A Surfeit of Wands

Chapter Seven: Fugue

'Tonks!' Harry lunged forward, but Shacklebolt yanked him back. He watched helplessly as people streamed from the castle and ran towards her. Above him, the last Death Eater soared upwards in triumph, streaking away towards the west and the setting sun.

'Tonks!' Harry screamed again. There was no answer. She lay very still, a crumpled heap upon the ground. The foremost figures had reached her now, and two or three were kneeling beside her. Harry recognised Dumbledore's purple robes.

Lupin chose that moment to appear at the entrance. Taking in the situation at a glance, he pushed past Harry, who was still struggling in Shacklebolt's grasp, and ran towards Tonks. Dumbledore stood up slowly and shook his head once as Lupin approached, in a long slow movement that was somehow the end of hope for all of them.

Harry wrenched himself out of Shacklebolt's grasp and ran indoors, because crying wasn't something you did in front of other people.

--

Even the castle seemed somehow numb in the days that followed, as if Tonks' death had drained some vital spark from the stones themselves. The corridors were quieter, the rooms darker and more claustrophobic. In some ways, Harry thought, he didn't mind. He avoided company, finding solace in parts of the building that were rarely used. It had been deemed unsafe for him to fly, so at first he had sought refuge in the Library until, unable to bear the gaze of Madam Pince, which managed to be both watchful and sympathetic at the same time, he had fled, discovering parts of the castle that were entirely new to him, and that, he suspected, most people barely knew existed. Armed with the Marauder's Map and his father's Invisibility Cloak, he could spend as much time alone as he pleased. He looked in on Moody at intervals, wrapped in the Cloak, and watched Pomfrey and Snape as they tried remedy after remedy. Sometimes Moody looked worse after the treatment, sometimes a little better, but Harry knew from Snape's scowl and Pomfrey's frightened eyes that they were no closer to finding a cure.

He continued to turn up for meals in the Great Hall with the others, knowing that Dumbledore would insist upon it, and their conversation flowed through and around him as he ate, although he took no part in it. At times, someone - usually Dumbledore or Lupin - would touch him lightly on the shoulder and request the salt, or ask him a question, drawing him gently and temporarily into the conversation until he drifted away into his own thoughts again. At times, he thought, it was as if he and Dumbledore had entered into some secret pact - as long as Harry turned up for meals three times a day, Dumbledore would not bother him the rest of the time. He suspected Dumbledore always knew exactly where he was, regardless of the Map and the Cloak. He found he didn't care much about that, either.

He continued to attend Occlumency lessons with Snape, turning up at the dungeon each evening shortly after dinner and throwing himself utterly into the work. Neither of them was disposed to waste time on pleasantries; Snape would attack without warning, ripping into Harry's memories as Harry fought back with a passion and a savagery that left him surprised and not a little frightened. After each session he staggered back to the dormitory and fell at once into dreamless sleep.

On the rare occasions when Snape was not free for Occlumency, Harry spent the evenings on top of the Astronomy Tower, huddled in his Invisibility Cloak as the dusk fell away into night and the air grew chill around him.

--

'I thought I'd find you here.' Lupin's voice, calm and unequivocal.

Harry didn't bother to turn round. Bully for you, he thought. A small part of him wondered vaguely how Lupin had managed to track him down when he was wearing the Cloak, but he couldn't be bothered to ask. It was another of those things that didn't seem to matter anymore. He heard Lupin approach, close and closer still until the man was standing right behind him. He imagined he could feel Lupin's breath cool on the back of his neck and he twitched at the thought. He said nothing, staring straight ahead. Go away. Go away. I don't want you here.

'I've been looking for you,' Lupin said, his tone still pleasant and conversational.

I didn't want to be found. Harry hunched his shoulders and folded his body in on itself, staring fixedly ahead. Just go away. Leave me alone. Please -

He flinched as Lupin put an arm round his shoulders, slipping the Invisibility Cloak from him so that it fell from his body to the ground.

'Harry.' Lupin's voice, soft and gentle, was more than he could bear. Horrified, Harry felt a tear sting his eye, and he screwed both eyes shut until the danger had passed. I am not going to cry. Not here. Not now. He had done his crying alone in the dormitory, safe from prying eyes. He was not going to break down now, in front of Lupin. He was not.

'Harry,' Lupin said again, and the arm around him tightened. 'Is there anything I can do?'

It was too much. Harry could have dealt with anger or regret, but not this unexpected kindness. He swallowed, feeling a solitary tear roll down his cheek, its trail cold and damp on his skin. He waited until he could be certain that his voice would not betray him, then whispered, 'It was my fault.'

'No.'

'She died because of me.'

'True.'

Harry turned round, very white. He stared at Lupin.

'True,' Lupin repeated. 'And she would have done it again, in a second. Any of us would.'

'That's not - I mean - ' Harry fumbled for the right words. Lupin helped him out.

'You're thinking that it would never have happened if you hadn't talked Kingsley into taking you along with him. Well, maybe that's true. Maybe it wouldn't have, not there and not then. But we couldn't have kept you locked up forever. Sooner or later, you would have had to leave here - and they would have been waiting. We've had people following you every time you left the castle - ' Harry looked up in surprise at that and Remus nodded. 'Even when you came out with me to Mold. Tonks was watching us. You were lucky both Tonks and Kingsley were with you this time.'

'Tonks wasn't lucky,' Harry said angrily. 'She -'

'- made her own choices.' Lupin interrupted. 'She was an adult, and an Auror, and she knew what she was doing. This is a war, Harry. People die.'

There wasn't much you could say to that, so Harry bit his lip and said nothing. After a moment Lupin continued, more gently. 'Nobody wants it to happen. And Tonks - she loved life more than anyone I've ever known. Almost anyone... It seems as if it's always the people with most to lose who get taken. But it happens, Harry, and it'll happen again. Sometimes you have to stand back and let people make their own choices, however much it breaks your heart to do so.'

'It's just - ' Again Harry struggled to find the words, and this time Lupin did not help him out. 'It's just - ' He turned to look at Lupin. 'People are being killed because of me. All because of me.'

'Not quite all because of you. Voldemort has a part to play too.'

'You know what I mean.'

Lupin nodded. 'Yes. But you're going to have to live with that. Like it or not, you're our best hope for defeating Voldemort and as long as that's true, people you care about are going to risk their lives for you and do so gladly. People you don't even know will give their lives for yours, because they believe in you. That's quite a responsibility.'

'I don't want it,' Harry said suddenly. 'I wish it had been someone else.' Neville, he thought. Please God, let it be Neville after all. Not me.

Lupin's lip curled. 'I didn't much want to be a werewolf, either. Accepting the difference between what you are and what you would have liked to be is part of growing up.'

'Does it get any easier?'

'Losing people? No.' Lupin shook his head. 'It never stops hurting. That's how you know you're still human.' He turned away and stared out across the grounds, as Harry had done only a few minutes before. 'It's a beautiful night.'

'Not bad,' Harry conceded, accepting the change of subject. He walked over to stand tentatively beside Lupin. It was getting dark now, and he could only half make out the shapes of things that were so familiar and comforting by day - Hagrid's cottage, on the border of the Forbidden Forest, the Whomping Willow, tall and uncompromising against the skyline. In the light of the waning moon, the water of the lake was as black as spilt blood. Harry shuddered.

Beside him, Lupin said, 'I used to come up here, you know.' He stretched, flexing his shoulders, and the sleeves of his robes pulled back, revealing deep, angry gashes on his forearms. Harry kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, anxious not to be caught staring.

'You did?' he said, interested in spite of himself.

'Mm. When I was your age. Younger. It was somewhere to go. Somewhere private. Where I wouldn't be bothered.'

'I used to go flying,' Harry admitted. 'Quidditch practice. Did you ever - ?'

'Fly?' Lupin shook his head. 'Your father and Sirius were the fliers. I can handle a broom well enough when I have to, but I don't fly for pleasure. And as for Quidditch ...!' He gave a theatrical shudder and Harry grinned.

'I love it,' he said eagerly. 'It's like nothing on earth, like being - ' He hesitated.

'Free? As if all your problems had just melted away?' Harry glanced at Lupin in surprise. 'That's what Sirius used to say. When things got to him, we always knew where to look.' He smiled, and this time there was no sadness in it.

'What were they like?'

There was a moment of silence and then Lupin said softly, 'They were... alive. I never knew anyone so full of life as Sirius and your father. Every day was a fresh challenge to them, a new opportunity, and they relished it. To look at them, you'd never have guessed that they had their own worries and fears, just like everyone else. They seemed invincible.'

Invincible. Harry gazed down at the ground. 'They weren't, though.'

'What?' Lupin glanced at him. 'No. No, they weren't.'

If I hadn't been born, they might still be alive. Harry watched his hands as they rested on the rampart, knotting and unknotting. Beside him Lupin said quietly, 'They wouldn't, you know.'

Harry dragged his head round to look at Lupin in surprise. 'How...?'

Lupin shrugged. 'It was pretty obvious. You can't change the past. Don't blame yourself for it, either.' He took one last look from the top of the tower, across to the Forbidden Forest. 'It's getting chilly. Shall we go back down?'

--

Things seemed slightly better after that. Harry slept well that night and awoke feeling more refreshed than he had done for days. Everything around him seemed suddenly to have regained its colour, and breakfast tasted like- well, he thought, like breakfast, not cardboard. He gulped down his pumpkin juice and ate buttered toast and marmalade with the others, astonished to discover that he was hungry.

Dung Fletcher was at the far end of the table, conversing in a low voice with Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt. He pushed his half-finished bacon and eggs away and placed a black silk top hat on the breakfast table. Harry watched with interest as Dung began muttering and waving a hand over the hat. A pink nose sniffed the air, and then the head of a handsome white rabbit appeared, looking around the Great Hall with incurious eyes.

Smiling inwardly, Harry got up and went to sit beside the group. Dung wiped his mouth on his cuff and grinned a welcome, revealing stained yellow teeth.

'Mornin', 'Arry.' He turned back to Shacklebolt, his voice low and persuasive. 'I ain't kidding. Wandless magic!' He waved his hand again and the rabbit disappeared, to be replaced by a set of gaudy orange and yellow chiffon scarves, tied together at the ends. 'Five Galleons and it's yours, Kingsley. Can't say fairer than that, can I?'

'Let's have the rabbit back,' murmured Lupin. With another sweep of his arm, Dung obeyed. As he was doing so, Harry saw a glance pass between Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt placed a hand on Dung's arm and engaged him in earnest conversation. While Dung was distracted, Lupin transfigured the rabbit into a teaspoon, slipping the original spoon under a napkin.

Dung turned back to his magic hat. 'And that's not all - ' His jaw dropped. 'Where's it gone?'

'It went that way.' Lupin made a vague gesture towards the far end of the Great Hall. 'Hopping,' he added helpfully. Dung grabbed the hat and bolted. Lupin raised a quizzical eyebrow in Harry's direction. 'He will keep forgetting that my father was a Muggle. I had a magician at my sixth birthday party.' He picked up the teaspoon and contemplated it. 'Now what on earth shall I do with this?'

--

Harry visited Mad-Eye Moody that afternoon, sitting beside the bed and watching as he slept. There was colour in Moody's cheeks and his breathing was deep and even. On the bedside table, the artificial eye whirred angrily in its glass of water; it fixed its gaze on Harry as he came in and stared at him until he became uncomfortable and threw a handkerchief over it. It looked as if Snape and Madam Pomfrey between them had finally succeeded in identifying the unknown poison and finding a cure. Harry wondered how long it would be before Moody was up and about again. Quite a while, he suspected, leaning in to peer at the sleeping man. Moody's face was worn and lined; without his magic eye, he looked vulnerable, almost naked. He looks worn out, Harry thought, settling back in his chair. The way I feel. Does everyone feel like this? How on earth do they cope?

Quick footsteps in the corridor outside signalled Lupin's entrance to the ward. Harry sat up and jerked the handkerchief off the glass as Lupin crossed the room and came to stand beside Moody's bed.

'He's asleep,' Harry said without turning. 'He looks better.'

'Yes, he does, doesn't he?' Relief was evident in Lupin's voice. 'Pop - Madam Pomfrey said she thought he'd turned a corner last night, but she couldn't be certain till today. Dumbledore's on his way over.' He tossed a small book over to Harry, who caught it in both hands. 'See what you make of this.'

'Folk Tales of Wales,' Harry read aloud. 'It's the book from Bridget Meadowes' house.'

Lupin nodded. 'She might have been reading it while waiting for her visitor. The Bridget I remember was fanatical about putting things away after they'd been used.'

The book fell open in Harry's hands and he glanced idly at the page. The Dwarf's Revenge. It meant nothing to him. Shrugging, he put the book down on Moody's bedside table.

'When did you find out about the poison?' he asked.

Lupin shot him a sharp look. 'Yesterday afternoon. Late. Professor Snape had a brainwave and rushed off to look something up. It looks as if he was right.'

'What was it?'

'Something unexpected.' Lupin frowned. 'It's a poison the Death Eaters were developing, sixteen or seventeen years ago. Professor Snape's not sure if it was ever used. I've never heard of it, and Madam Pomfrey certainly hasn't seen it before. Even Dumbledore didn't know what it was. The funny thing is, it should have killed Moody. We had no idea what we were doing; we weren't going to find an antidote in time. Professor Snape thinks the stuff on the dagger had been lying around for some time. If they'd brewed a fresh batch, Moody would be dead.' He shook his head. 'We were lucky.'

'You said you didn't understand why Moody had been attacked - ' Harry broke off, realising too late that he had given himself away.

Lupin regarded him without speaking for a long moment, then observed, 'You get a lot of use out of that Invisbility Cloak, don't you?' Harry flushed. 'Never mind. Yes. I don't think that telling you can do any harm.' He drew up a chair and sat down, crossing his long legs in front of him. 'It seemed to me that there were things about this... situation... that didn't add up. I couldn't reconcile the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade with the way Caradoc's things reappeared. And then Bridget's murder... it didn't make sense. It still doesn't.'

'There was a D on the calendar,' Harry prompted. 'And the extra wand.'

'The wand belonged to Dorcas. Whoever had it used it to kill Bridget.'

Harry felt sick. 'That's horrible.'

'Mmm. Someone has a very nasty sense of humour.' Lupin shifted in his chair. 'But it does stop us getting anything useful out of a Prior Incantato. Shacklebolt tried one straight away.'

'She must have known something,' Harry guessed. 'There was no other reason to kill her.' He was silent, remembering the forlorn body on the sitting-room floor.

'More reason than you think, perhaps,' Lupin said quietly. 'She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, before you were born. Until Dorcas and Caradoc died. Sirius and I kept in touch for a while, but she made it obvious she didn't want to see any of her old friends. I wish now... well. Never mind.'

Harry looked thoughtful. 'She wasn't in the photograph.'

'No. Plenty of others weren't either. Maybe you'll meet them, maybe not.'

Harry considered that. The thought that there were more Order members out there was reassuring and he filed it away for future reference. He wondered how many there were and if he had met any of them without knowing it.

Something struck him and he turned his attention back to Lupin. 'Somebody was watching Geraint - '

'Geraint's fine, Harry. Don't worry about him. If I'm right, he's not in any danger.'

'Why not?'

'I said everything didn't add up?' Harry nodded. 'On the one hand - Caradoc's things, the attack on Moody, Bridget's murder all seem to point to someone who's working out a grudge against old members of the Order. Although why Bridget... So does using the old poison. And if that were true, then Geraint would be safe. So would you. But then there's your photograph. I can't fit that in at all. It's as if there's two different things going on at the same time, and they've got tangled up.' He shook his head. 'I don't know. I just don't know what's going on. Maybe - ' He broke off as the sound of rapping came from behind them. It sounded as if someone was banging on the window with a rock.

'That's my owl!' Harry jumped up and rushed over, flinging the window open before the teacup-owl could do itself an injury banging its china handle against the glass. The owl shot past him in a whirl of damp air and feathers and out of the far door. In the corridor outside he heard Pomfrey's startled exclamation and Dumbledore's laugh.

'Care to explain?'

Harry jumped. He had forgotten about Lupin.

'It's my owl,' he repeated in embarrassment. 'I made it when I got trapped in the café with the Death Eaters.' He explained what had happened, secretly rather pleased at the way Lupin was staring at him in amazement. 'Only I'm not really very good at Transfiguration,' he ended. 'Hermione's owl would have been much better.'

'If Hermione had thought of it,' Lupin commented. 'I'm impressed. It sounds like you were in a tight spot and you handled it very well. James would have been proud of you.'

Harry flushed again. He felt suddenly as if he were ten foot tall.