Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Nineteen

The first thought that crossed his mind after the initial horror was 'Why?'. Why Hagrid? Then the second thought kicked in. What if whoever had done this unspeakable thing was still loitering nearby? Extracting his wand from his pocket, trying to make as little noise as possible, Harry swallowed. He reached out his other hand towards Hagrid, and then dropped it again weakly. He prayed that he was dreaming. Then he reached out again and touched Hagrid's huge hand. The skin was rough, calloused, and very, very cold. Colder than Ginny's had been when he'd found her in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry swallowed again, fighting back the urge to be sick. His knees were trembling. He prowled the Hut swiftly and silently, checking under the bed, even inside Hagrid's huge chest of drawers, but there was no murderer lurking in the shadows.

Now lay the immediate problem of what to do. As the storm broiled in the dark night sky, Harry pondered his situation. He knew that it did not look good. How could he explain why he had been sneaking around the grounds against rules, how could he explain the cloak and the map, Hagrid and Madame Maxime? Everyone would suspect him as usual. He would tell of course, but not until he had hidden his cloak and map. He paced over to the fireplace, and to his relief discovered the map, untouched, where he had left it.

Then he examined the hut carefully, to make sure all signs of his presence were gone. A quick charm removed his wet footprints, and it was only then that he remembered Fang. With a lurching stomach, Harry walked to Fang's basket. Fang was not snoring or twitching in his dreams.

"Fang?" Harry whispered miserably, his voice breaking. Fang did not move. It was this that finally dissolved Harry's last shred of calm. The salty tears began sliding down his cheeks and into his mouth. Who would kill a dumb animal? What was the point? Only someone who took pleasure in killing, only... Only a Death Eater, or Voldemort himself.

Stumbling from the hut and running back to Hogwarts sapped the last of Harry's strength. He ignored Filch and Mrs Norris as he shot past them in the Entrance Hall.

"Boy! Potter!" Filch bellowed after him, trying to keep up with Harry as he sprinted. He let Mrs Norris drop to the ground and chase Harry too, but he was too preoccupied to notice. When he reached the first floor, he bolted past Megan and Hermione, who were just switching duties. He nearly knocked Megan Jones too the floor as she tried to ask him exactly where he thought he was going.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, but he did not acknowledge her at all. Emotionally exhausted, he flung himself up the marble staircase and down the corridor at breakneck speed and pounded on the door to McGonagall's office.

"Yes?" she queried, opening the door.

"Hagrid's DEAD!" Harry whispered, feeling amazingly young and insecure.

"What?" McGonagall gasped. She did not doubt him. The streaming eyes, drenched clothing and air of utter despair that hung around Harry was evident. Then she was galvanised into action. As Harry leaned back against the wall and sank to the floor, she was shouting directions to students and staff alike by making her voice echo round the corridors as it had done during his second year.

Hermione caught him up, and slid next to him, listening wide eyed to McGonagall. She didn't say anything to Harry, and he was grateful. All he wanted was for everything to go away.

Teachers came thronging, asking questions, and then within ten minutes of his return to the castle, Harry was being taken back to Hagrid's Hut once more. He just clutched his Invisibility Cloak, which was rolled up inside his jumper, along with the map, and thought about the last few hours he had spent with Hagrid, and how he was never going to see him again. In bitter anguish Harry remembered how Hagrid had joked that he never wanted to leave again. Some cruel god had granted his wish.

He didn't know how long he was there, in that room with the two huge bodies just sitting there, as if in slumber. He had steeled himself to the Professors' cries and gasps, and he watched them numbly as they examined the entire home for clues. Eventually, Flitwick levitated the bodies out as Snape and McGonagall were questioning Harry for the umpteenth time. Fang was removed last, Flitwick shaking his head as he floated the corpse out.

"He was licking the dregs from the teacups yesterday," Harry said sadly.

"What?" Snape demanded sharply.

"Serverus, be more gentle with the lad, it's been a terrible shock!" Professor McGonagall chided gently.

"No - the dog's dead, and it drank from the same cups as they did? What if Potter and his friends have also been poisoned?" Snape explained, delivering the words in a clear hiss.

"Hagrid and Madame Maxime didn't have tea from the same kettle as us. They'd already drank theirs when we arrived. Those two cups were the ones Fang drank from, and ours are on the draining board. Hermione insisted we wash them up, to be polite," Harry managed to say. He could see how it had been done now. It sickened him. "May I go now?" he asked wearily of the two anxious teachers. They stopped debating and eyed him, Snape with disinterest, and McGonagall with distress.

"Madame Pomfrey will supply you with a sleeping potion," McGonagall instructed. "You can rest tomorrow. So can Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. I will speak to you again in the morning." She nodded curtly, and beckoned Madame Pomfrey over.

"Professor McGonagall? What about Ginny Weasley? She might be upset too," Harry muttered indistinctly. Snape sneered.

"Yes, the same goes for her. Now, away!" McGonagall whirled off to speak to Professor Figg, and seemed to forget Harry. He let himself be ushered away by Madame Pomfrey, and ignored the rest of the Gryffindor's questions as he traipsed through the common room to his dormitory. Most of them had obeyed the instructions to go to their dormitories, but a few of the elder students had decided to see what was going on. Once they saw the state Harry was in, they let Ron guide him to bed, and left him to sleep.

Waking up the next morning was not one of the more pleasant experiences of Harry's life. The sleeping potion had let him sleep, but it had not rested him. He felt exhausted still, and twinges of a headache were crowding his busy mind. He had seen dead people before, he had brought Cedric's body back with him after watching him die, but it wasn't the same.

Seeing someone you regarded almost family dead and knowing that Voldemort had done it was bad enough, but when Harry considered the past, he felt like a failure. What use was it being The Boy Who Lived, if everyone else was going to die?

His actions were robotic. Everyone was very good to him; of course, they had been told to be good to him. Most people probably thought Harry was the one who murdered them, and poisoned Dumbledore. But one thing made him feel better, and let his mind rest more easily. As he sat alone at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast, a group of students entered. He didn't look at them, but was aware that one of them was walking straight towards him. He assumed it was Ron, come to berate him for sneaking off alone again.

"Harry," said the person miserably.

He almost choked on his toast.

"Harry?" she repeated, sounding doubtful.

Harry turned to look at Ginny. His gaze was devoid of all emotion. He inspected her carefully, and then looked around for Malfoy. Malfoy was, in fact, stalking over, pale with anger, eyes gleaming maliciously.

"Virginia, don't talk to him," he ordered. "Can't you see the little cry baby wants to be left alone? Poor little Potty, nobody loves you any more!"

Harry ignored the comments with ease. He watched Ginny's reaction with interest. Her face darkened, giving her an even stronger resemblance to Ron, and something inside her snapped. She spun on her heel and glared at Malfoy. "Malfoy, shut up and sod off!"

Malfoy flinched angrily. "Did you not hear me? Get away from him!"

"Did you not hear me? Shut up and sod off!"

"All right. I don't know why I'd want a stupid, ugly, penniless, red haired urchin like you anyway. Run back to your stupid Scarhead and have a good old sob together. I don't care!" With that, Malfoy turned and retreated to the Slytherin table and sat with Crabbe and Goyle, stabbing his sausages and bacon with vicious rage.

Ginny sat as if her knees had given way. She looked blankly at Harry and then smiled a watery smile. "How are you?" she asked, as if none of that had just happened.

"That's a stupid question," Harry answered. He passed her a piece of toast silently, and she nibbled at it, smiling her thanks.

"It was, I suppose." She paused, and stole a quick glance at Malfoy, who had regained his composure, and was telling some amusing story to the rest of his Housemates, who were roaring with laughter. "He's probably telling them I kiss like a fish or something," she muttered.

"And how I was so overcome with grief at his hurtful words that I wept," Harry added, embroidering the story somewhat.

"He's usually much better at insults, isn't he?" Ginny mused thoughtfully.

"Mmm," Harry said into his toast. He was thinking about Lucius Malfoy. He was a Death Eater, and he had been sneaking about in an Invisibility Cloak outside Hagrid's Hut, and then there had been murders. But how could Harry prove it? He wondered if Malfoy knew. He had wondered perhaps if Ginny knew anything about it, but her reaction to him had made him realise she was just as shocked and distraught as he was.

"Lots more people are leaving, you know. The parents aren't convinced it's safe here any more," Ginny said quietly.

"I'm not surprised. I'm not convinced it's safe here any more," Harry replied. His throat closed and his eyes threatened to shed tears again. He looked upwards, blinking them away, and swallowed.

"Harry," Ginny said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"My parents, nearly Ron, Hermione and yourself, Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore, Dennis, Colin, Malcom, Owen, Natalie, Lisa and Mandy, now Hagrid, Madame Maxime and Fang. All these people have suffered because I can't defeat Voldemort! Not to mention all the others who are going to suffer!"

"Harry! Who ever said it was your job to defeat him? None of this is your fault. Stop trying to take responsibility for everything. You are not to blame for this. You can't fix all the wrong in the world, so don't try. Just remember that you're not alone. You've got all of us, we're here for you." Ginny put her arm around his shoulders and leant her head against his.

"But if someone doesn't stop him, none of you will be here for me, because he'll kill you all. Someone has to stop him, and it isn't going to be Fudge, or Dumbledore. Who else is left?" Harry whispered bitterly.

"There's always someone else," Ginny replied.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted tremulously. She and Ron sat down on the other side of him.

"Shut up, you stupid git," Ron said.

"Harry, I have to agree with him and Ginny. We'll always be there for you, just like you'll always be there for us," Hermione added. "Although I don't agree with calling you a git."

"Anyway, we've got Trelawney next, so we ought to set off now to get there in time. McGonagall told us you got lessons off today, and that we did too. I don't know about you, but I'd feel stupid moping about feeling sorry for myself," Ron said quietly.

Hermione began to sniffle lightly. "It's just all so sudden!" she wailed. "And sadistic! We had tea with them, and Fang... and now we'll never see them ever again!" She buried her head into Ron's shoulder and cried unabashedly, not caring that they were attracting quite a lot of attention from the other students in the hall.

Harry felt slightly more optimistic, and his grief and anger subsided a little. "Come on then," he said to Ron, whilst giving Hermione a squeeze on the shoulder. She smiled weakly at him and Ginny, and then stood up, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. Ginny smiled at Harry and joined her friends. Ron stood up next to Harry and Hermione, reminding Harry yet again how short he was.

"Let's go see Mystic Meg," Harry sighed. Hermione smiled at that, but Ron looked confused.

"She's off a Muggle TV show," Hermione told him. He nodded, still looking mystified.

With that, the three of them left the Great Hall, Harry reflecting that although they didn't have Hagrid any more, at least they had each other, and that was the way it would always be.