A Reflection of Himself

November 1 dawned. It was one of those days when, even though the sun is out, no warmth comes from its light. One look at the sky from his office window was enough for Dumbledore to feel chilled to the bone. The sky was grey with cloud-cover, but in the midst of those clouds, a white-silver orb glowed dimly. It seemed even the sun was affected by the events of last night. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Dumbledore turned away from the window, took his seat at his desk, removed his half-moon glasses, and rubbed at his tired eyes. He supposed the most difficult part of his job as head of the Order was about to happen that evening. The Order had already been notified of the horrific events, but to make matters even worse, one of their own was directly affected by the events from Halloween night.

Not only was an Order meeting scheduled for that evening, but it would also be in a new location. Dumbledore felt that they were no longer safe meeting at Grimmauld Place, not since Voldemort had managed to enter Harry's mind and find out secret information. Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, had reluctantly agreed to allowing the Order to meet in the basement of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. The clientele were oftentimes described as suspicious and shady in the pub, but the meeting would be taking place after the pub had locked its doors for the night. Dumbledore cleverly thought that holding the meeting in a long-thought suspicious place would be a good cover-up. No one would ever suspect.

As the day passed, Harry wondered what news would be revealed at the meeting that night. Dumbledore had refused to elaborate further when he notified him that morning. In fact, Dumbledore had not told any of the members much of anything... just that there was to be an urgent meeting that evening and that there had been an attack. With curiosity and a looming feeling of foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach, Harry and the other Order members waited for the remaining hours of the day to pass. When darkness had fallen, and the clock chimed at the appropriate time a half-hour before the meeting was to commence, Harry left Hogwarts, accompanied by Lupin, and began walking across the frosted grounds to Hogsmeade.

Walking through the village was eerie. The streets were dark and desolate, nearly devoid of people. What a contrast it was in comparison to the many times Harry had frequented the little shops with his friends on a Hogsmeade weekend, hearing the laughter and conversations of passersby.

When Harry could tolerate the silence no longer, he asked, "What do you think we'll find out? Who do you think was attacked?"

Hearing Harry's words hang in the air unanswered, Lupin could do nothing but shrug. From within the confines of one of the pockets on his shabby coat, Sirius frowned, growing ever more impatient and anxious to hear the horrible news. Harry had voiced what many people were wondering. When they came upon the Hog's Head at the bad end of town, they filed into the backdoor, keeping their eyes ever-vigilant. Lupin hastily pushed Harry into the doorway first, then entered himself, and closed the door securely.

There in front of them was a narrow, long hallway, which extended to another door. Only a few spare sconces lit the corridor, and as they tentatively walked over the ancient floorboards, they creaked and rattled in protest. Breathing in the musty air, Harry had to try hard to refrain from sneezing. He idly wondered when the last time was this passage had been used. The stiff, stale feeling, combined with the tight space, made him feel hemmed in and claustrophobic. Finally, they reached the other door, and Harry extended his arm to open it. He glanced back at Lupin for reassurance, and upon Lupin's affirmative nod, Harry turned the handle, and with a click, the door squeaked open slowly.

Staring into the darkness that lay before him, Harry's eyes had to momentarily adjust before he could see the stairs. He proceeded with caution, feeling like he had just entered a forbidden place. One by one, Harry took the steps, afraid they might very well give under even his meagre weight. When he resolutely reached the bottom, he was thankful. Simply surviving the trek to arrive at the meeting place seemed quite a feat in and of itself.

Next time, Harry thought about simply apparating. True, that would mean having to walk across the grounds of Hogwarts first and then apparating only a very short distance, but he thought it better than this. Then, with a sinking feeling, Harry realized that he would not be able to apparate directly into the basement of the Hog's Head, anyway. No doubt there were wards by the dozen placed on the old pub.

As Harry found himself gazing around the room, he noticed an old man sitting impatiently in the dimly-lit room. At first glance, Harry would have thought it was Dumbledore in a very foul mood, but then Harry realized that it had to be his brother, Aberforth.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Aberforth barked. "Sit down, sit down."

Harry nodded like a child afraid to disobey and took a seat. Dumbledore could command so much simply by his presence, but his brother needed to use his voice to have the same effect. Despite some physical resemblance, the similarities ended there. Harry wondered how they could even be related, but then his mind quickly thought of his own mother and how very different she had been from his aunt Petunia. Blood could only mean so much, he supposed.

It was with heavy hearts that the rest of the members entered the room. The atmosphere was too convenient for their current collective mood, mirroring all-too-well the feeling of helplessness and despair. Harry wondered how they could be brought to such a low, but then he understood. Snape was not the last one to arrive this time. At the bottom of the stairs appeared the lone form of Nymphadora Tonks. One look into her eyes was enough to tell Harry... In those empty eyes spoke the volumes of loss, sadness, anger, hopelessness, and grief that she was experiencing in every part of her body. Trembling, Tonks stepped toward Dumbledore, who immediately took the young Auror into his comforting arms, embracing her as if she were his own daughter. In a way, she was. To Dumbledore, every member of the Order was like a child to him, even if they didn't realize it, for, to him, they were his all and his everything. They were the ones amongst thousands of wizards and witches who had given themselves fully to his cause. They truly believed as he believed, and they constituted a rare and precious thing to be found in a world far too full of lies and deceit: true loyalty from the heart.

No one could hear what the aged wizard murmured in her ear, but they stayed that way for a long time, everyone looking on in admiration and sympathy. Finally, her tears subsided, Tonks sat down next to Dumbledore, all the while her gaze fixed on her lap.

With a hand on her back, Dumbledore glanced around the room. Finally, he spoke: "I think it goes without saying who has suffered the most. You have all just witnessed what loss can do to even one of our own. Yes... that is right. On the eve of Halloween, Andromeda and Ted Tonks were attacked and murdered by about half a dozen of Voldemort's Death Eaters."

Dumbledore gazed down at Tonks like a loving grandfather and murmured, "I am truly sorry, my dear. They were wonderful people and deserved better."

Tonks choked back a sob upon hearing the words "attacked" and "murdered." There was no way to say the truth that would make it any less bearable, but the truth, raw and harsh, was the best thing. Sitting next to Tonks on the other side was Lupin, and he felt a pang in his heart. He knew all too well what she was going through, for he had lost his parents in much the same manner during the first war. Thinking back on those times, Lupin realized that he had been nearly the age Tonks now was, and like Tonks, his mother had been a witch who had married a Muggle man. The similarities were disconcerting... at say the very least.

Several of the women gasped and felt their eyes begin to tear up, while the men stared resolutely at Dumbledore, wondering what he would say next. Everyone wondered what Dumbledore could possibly say that would ease the pain, and all the while, looking into each and every one of their saddened, desperate, anguished eyes, Dumbledore wished, more than ever, that with a mere wave of the wand, he could solve all their problems, heal all their wounds, ease all their woes and suffering. But he knew it was not so.

Sirius wanted to jump out of Lupin's pocket and comfort his dear cousin. Andromeda had always been his favorite cousin, as she was the only decent one from the bunch. He remembered with an embittered, hardened heart how during family gatherings Andromeda would be mocked cruelly by her two sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa. While Bellatrix was simply downright evil, Narcissa was incredibly vain. Sirius remembered trying to comfort his cousin on several occasions, even though she was a few years older than him. To think that she was now dead felt like someone had taken an icy fist and ripped his heart right out from his chest.

Harry, meanwhile, sat there, completely and utterly stunned beyond words. Attacks were becoming more and more pronounced and common as the war wore on, but to see the effects of such loss on the face of one of their own made everything all the more real. Harry had to control himself from jumping out of his seat and demanding they all go and seek out Voldemort right then and there. Hell, he would have gladly taken the responsibility solely upon himself if no one else would accompany him, but just as Harry felt the urge to finally speak, Dumbledore resumed talking.

"It is unfortunate that we are running out of options," he declared heavily. "I fear to say that this war has escalated to the point where we are truly at a loss... until Voldemort comes face-to-face and stops hiding in the shadows. He will continue to use any means necessary to spread his hatred."

"Absurd!" Moody growled, standing up. "Albus, are you off your bloody rocker? I don't care what you say... We still could be doing more, making more of an effort... Wards can still be increased, I believe, along with the power of protection offered by skilled and professionally trained Aurors."

"It is true," Kingsley added, "that since we do have the support of the Ministry now, we can perhaps convince others to join our ranks. I can see what I can do to ensure more Aurors are stationed wherever need be."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is true, Kingsley, and go ahead to do so, but as for increasing the wards, Alastor, we are running out of spells to perform. Every time the wards are strengthened, Voldemort seems to find a way around them. If anyone has any ideas, I invite you to give them. Maybe I am simply not thinking of all our options in my ever-growing years."

"What other choice do we have but to fight?" Harry finally asked, challenging the group with his very words. "I say we bring the battle to Voldemort. How much longer are we going to wait like lambs going to the slaughter?"

Harry's young, energetic mind was restless. He knew what they would say before he even spoke, and Dumbledore's words came as no surprise when he responded, "Harry, my boy, we have been through this before. Trying to track Voldemort is an impossible task. We are at his mercies now, but we must and will be prepared for when he chooses to strike."

"We haven't been prepared from what I can see so far," Harry challenged. "Why aren't our spies gathering any useful information as to his plans and whereabouts?"

"Because, Potter," came Snape's quiet voice, "the Dark Lord has not summoned us."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "Well... there must be something we can do!" he sputtered insistently.

Dumbledore shook his head. Harry was reminded all-too-well of his meeting with the Headmaster in his office on his first day back at Hogwarts two months previously. Just as he had felt then, Harry felt the overwhelming urge to literally shake the old man, who he was beginning to think of as being an old fool, especially if he continued to act in this manner.

The rest of the meeting passed uneventfully, and upon its conclusion, the members of the Order murmured their apologies and expressed their condolences to Tonks for her loss. When Snape came to her, Tonks thought her eyes to be deceiving her for a moment, for she had never seen such a haunted look in the Potion Master's black eyes before.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," Snape whispered, looking only briefly into Tonks's astonished eyes. Before she could reply, he turned away and left the room so quickly, she thought he had apparated away.

Harry hugged Tonks and said determinatedly, "Don't worry, Tonks. I'll make sure that monster never hurts anyone ever again."

Tonks could only nod at Harry's words. She knew he meant well, but no amount of revenge could ever bring back her parents. Dumbledore offered his sympathies one last time and returned with Harry to Hogwarts. The room had emptied of everyone save Lupin, who was gazing at Tonks in a whole new light. The way the dim candlelight danced across his tear-stained face only made her appear more beautiful to him. He had always thought her to be a lovely young lady, with a lively spirit and a kind, caring heart, but now he felt like they shared something. Only she didn't know it... yet.

"You're not alone, you know," Lupin said gently.

Tonks sniffed but did not say anything.

"I know you don't know this, but I lost my parents in the same way... only that was years ago," Lupin whispered, recalling those horrible memories. "I... I don't mean this to sound selfish, but I do understand how you're feeling, Tonks, and if you want to talk to someone, just know that I'm here for you."

Tonks couldn't stand to listen to the gentleness of his voice and felt herself crumble under the weight of Lupin's well-intentioned words. Falling to the floor as if all energy had left her, Tonks buried her face in her hands and began crying all over again. In an instant, Lupin was at her side, and before either of them could comprehend what was going on, Lupin was wrapping his arms around her smaller form, totally encompassing her frail frame, whispering little nothings into her ears.

There, together on the damp, uneven floor in that dark basement, hope and comfort were renewed. In such an unlikely place of such cold, warmth was found. It was as if Lupin was transferring some of his strength to Tonks, and after several long minutes, Tonks looked into Lupin's soft eyes.

"I always hated the name they gave me," she mumbled, releasing a small, mirthless laugh. "Nymphadora... I used to spit it out, saying, 'Who would give their daughter such a horrid name?' And now, wouldn't you know? I regret ever saying those horrible words. They were my parents, Remus! They loved me, and I... I had the nerve to complain about the name they had chosen to give me."

"I think it's a beautiful name," Lupin replied softly, with total sincerity in his voice, leaving Tonks no room to doubt his words.

"You do?" she asked, truly surprised.

"Yes, Nymphadora."