Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight

Chapter 25: The Last Straw

"What were you thinking, Harry? How could you have let him catch the Snitch like that? Did you even see it?" Ron didn't even give him time to respond. "Obviously not!" He threw his towel into his Quidditch locker.

"Lay off, Ron. We won, didn't we?" Ginny said.

"Don't stick up for me," Harry barked.

Offended, Ginny turned scowled at him and headed to her locker. "Fine. I won't."

"So what kind of excuses do you have this time, Harry?" Ron demanded. "A bewitched broom?"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled. "I don't know what the hell happened out there. I was distracted."

"Distracted? How could you be distracted? It's a game of Quidditch! You don't give up in the middle of it!"

"Don't lecture me about the rules of the game," Harry spat. "You only blocked, what, two goals and let the other slip past?"

"Cut it out, you two," Jack Sloper said suddenly. "This isn't helping. I think we should all just come to realize that Harry can't catch the Snitch every time. I mean, he was bound to lose eventually."

"But to Malfoy?" Ron questioned. "Malfoy's got the speed of a turtle. He's as blind on the field as a bat. Not to mention he has the agility of South-African sloth."

Harry slammed his locker door shut. "I don't know how it happened."

"Maybe if you would have shown up for practice..." Ron began, but Harry shot him such a look that he quickly stopped talking.

"There has to be some other explanation. Maybe Malfoy bewitched the Snitch or something."

Harry draped his Quidditch bag over his shoulder and turned towards the door. "Jack's right," he announced sadly. "I was bound to lose sometime."

* * *

Harry was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon, and suspected he would feel that way for a good long time. Despite the fact that Malfoy had caught the Snitch, Gryffindor still won the game, so Harry had to muddle through the celebration in the Gryffindor common room. His Occlumency training was proving to be very useful. He tried to appear as cheerful as possible, but on the inside, he was ashamed of the game.

He could tell Ron felt the same way. He was prompted to give a speech at the party, which turned out to be quite convincing. However, when Harry met his eyes, he could tell that Ron was disappointed in him. His best friend's feelings were what shamed him the most.

That night was the first D.A. meeting, rescheduled from Harry's last minute trip to London with Nora. His nerves were on edge again. He had spent the few hours before the meeting in the library, gathering last minute ideas and avoiding the party back in the common room. Harry was beginning to regret scheduling the meeting on the same day as the Quidditch game. He didn't want to have to face his peers, let alone Cho.

But as always, time passed quickly when he was dreading something. Harry glanced at his watch and realized that if he didn't hurry he'd be late for the meeting. He hurried out of the library and up to the seventh floor. He looked for the portrait of Barnabus the Balmy teaching trolls to dance. Concentrating hard on the room he needed, he walked up and down the corridor three times. Suddenly, the door appeared, and he quickly went inside.

"Oh, Harry, we'd thought you'd forgotten," Hermione said breathlessly as he entered the room. It was decorated in usual meeting décor, complete with cushions and other items for magical practice. She had the list out on the table, which she and Ginny were going over. Ron was sulking in a corner.

"I'd never forget," Harry replied. "I was looking up some last minute things in the library."

"You mean you weren't hiding?" Ron questioned. Hermione and Giny both glared at him.

Harry decided to ignore his comment. "I thought we would start out with a review from last year - some defensive spells. And I'd like to see how everyone's doing with their Patronuses."

"Mine is excellent," Colin Creevey said as he and his brother, Dennis entered the room. "I've been practicing since we met at Hogsmeade."

"Mine is coming along," Dennis added. "It's a Plimpy, but I can't seem to get the legs right."

Harry grinned. He was beginning to feel much better. Teaching D.A. could be a bit nerve-wracking, but it was a lot of fun. He always felt like he was accomplishing something good. Something that would prepare everyone for the battle to come.

As more people arrived, Harry was beginning to feel more at ease. Despite his own adventures, this year had been relatively uneventful for everyone. There was no Triwizard Tournament, no Umbridge lurking around every corner. People were laughing and having a good time, happy to see one another. Cho was even greeted with a smile when she arrived.

The meeting went rather smoothly. After separating into pairs, Harry began instructing his eighteen students. They started out with a banishing charm, using the cushions for comfort. Next, they worked on a silencing charm. Professor Flitwick had spent quite some time on it earlier in the semester, and Harry wanted to review it with them. It had been of some use to Hermione when they were battling in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last year.

For the final lesson, he wanted to see everyone's Patronus. He wished he could produce his own for the demonstration, but he just didn't have the heart. He was afraid he didn't have enough happy thoughts left. Ron was barely speaking to him, he had a whole two week's worth of Muggle Studies detention, and he had to find time for Occlumency. Malfoy had caught the Snitch before him and he had been embarrassed in front of the entire school. Not to mention that Eva was so angry with him she would probably never speak to him again.

But somehow, even picturing her pissed off at him seemed bring a smile to his face. She was beautiful when she was angry.

He had Ron and Hermione demonstrate the charm. The Harry had the rest of the group perform in pairs, and then the two of them sent them in groups of four back to their common rooms with the help of the Marauder's Map. Oddly enough, the last pair was Seamus and Cho. Cho produced her swan, and Harry couldn't even deny that it was gorgeous. Elegant and smooth, just like its owner.

"Harry," Cho said quietly, "could I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"

Harry felt his heart beat rise inside his chest. "Er... sure."

She led him over to a secluded corner of the room, away from the scrutiny of Ron, Hermione, and Seamus. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the chandelier overhead. "I don't know how you'll feel about this, but both Marietta and Michael want to know if they can come back to D.A."

"How do they even know that it still exists?" Harry questioned accusingly. "Did you tell them we were still having meetings?"

"No," she snapped, offended. "They've still got their coins. They both knew the meeting was tonight."

He frowned. Hermione was supposed to take care of that. He glanced over at her by the doorway, but she and Ron were lost in each other's eyes. Perhaps she was a bit distracted lately.

"Just think about it," Cho said. "Marietta's learned her lesson. She knows what side is right. And Michael... well, he's not that bad."

Harry grunted. "From what I hear, you think he's just fine."

"We're not a couple anymore," Cho replied, brushing her hair behind her ear nonchalantly. "We're just friends."

"I don't care about that," Harry said curtly.

Cho smiled. "Are you sure?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. If there was anything that he was certain of, it was that Cho was not going to take him on another one of her emotional roller-coaster relationships. "Positive."

She took a step back. "I...I see." It was clear that she got the message. "Well, just think about it." She turned around, her hair and hips bouncing behind her, and left with the last group of Ravenclaws.

Harry ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He sighed and returned to his lesson. It was apparent that Seamus, who had never had much practice, was struggling with his own Patronus.

"Expecto Patronum!" Seamus shouted. A thin, wispy cloud came out of the tip of his wand, but it made no shape. He sighed. "It's no use. I don't even know what mine is, only that it's hairy."

"You just... you need to think of something that makes you happy."

"I am," Seamus replied. "It's just not good enough."

Harry could understand how he felt. "There's got to be something."

"Wait, I've got it," he said suddenly. "Did I tell you that Eva wrote back to me?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head.

He grinned. "Expecto Patronum!" With a flick of his wand, the silver phantom appeared, and it was quite hairy. It was almost human form - no, Harry realized, it was an ape. But it wasn't clumsy or wild. It had long, silky hair and dark eyes.

"I know what it is!" Seams cried. "It's a Demiguise! No wonder I couldn't see it before. They're practically invisible. Their coat makes excellent invisibility cloaks."

Harry smiled. "Brilliant." He paused, trying to sound as casual as possible. "So how is Eva?"

"She's all right," Seamus replied. "Not too fond of you anymore, though."

Harry felt his heart sink into his gut. He didn't know why he should be surprised. Of course she was still angry with him.

Hermione cleared her throat from the doorway. "We need to get out of here."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Some of us have extra homework."

* * *

Harry lay in his bed that night for what felt like endless hours. He had been the first one to bed after the D.A. meeting, yet he still had not fallen asleep before the moon reached its highest peak in the sky. Winter was on its way, and the northern wind was loudly beating against the windows of the dormitory.

Or was it just Neville's snoring?

Harry couldn't be sure as he tossed and turned, entangling his legs in his bed sheets. Wide awake and uncomfortable, he knew it was no use trying to get any sleep that night. He felt exhausted, yet sleep would not come to him.

He was worrying about so many things. Ron had been so angry with him ever since the field trip, and the game earlier that day only made it ten times worse. He had also wasted a few thoughts wondering about Marietta Edgecombe and Michael Corner and whether he should let them come back to D.A. He would need to discuss it with Hermione and Ron - if he would ever speak to Harry again.

Harry was dreading the heckling that was bound to come from Malfoy on Monday in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Losing to him was something that Harry didn't even get a chance to prepare for.

And for some reason, whenever he finally did drift off to sleep a little, in the space between his consciousness and his dreaming, he would see the image of his father, pleading with him. "If I fail, she's all yours. You have my word." And then an out-thrust hand. Harry's own reaching to shake it.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He was beginning to regret every trying to use Legilmency on Snape. He didn't know what had ever possessed him to use that incantation. Clearly, it was a mistake.

With the image of his father so fresh in his mind, Harry couldn't help feeling lonely. It was times like these he wished he could talk to Sirius. He thought of the pieces of the broken mirror carefully packed into a corner of his trunk. If only he could look into it and see Sirius. If only he could hear his godfather's voice one last time.

Harry hadn't realized how close he was to crying until he felt a single tear roll down his cheek to his lips. The salty taste startled him, and he quickly wiped it away. Embarrassed and looking for the distraction, he decided to check in on Remus.

When he pulled the Moon Guide out of his pocket, it was very dark, but Harry knew from his calendar that the full moon wasn't until the next night. He wondered if Remus was reading again. Or perhaps he was actually asleep.

He put the dark circle up to his eye, and whispered, "I solemnly swear I only want to watch." As he peered inside the Moon Guide, the spectacle opened his vision to a room that looked vaguely familiar. There was a large picture window on one side of the room and blankets spread out upon the floor. Remus was perched in front of a fireplace, staring intently at a picture on the mantle. He had a glass of liquor in his hand and every few seconds he would take a sip. His eyes were red. Harry didn't know if he should be watching. It looked as though Remus was drunk.

There was a knock on the door and Remus sadly put his glass down on the mantelpiece. He was dressed in his shabby clothes, looking as pale as ever before the full moon. He walked over to the entrance and pulled the door open, the breeze disturbing the cozy fire.

"I should have known you'd come."

"I didn't want you to be alone." The cloaked figure stepped inside, uninvited, and pulled her cape off.

Harry gasped. It was Tonks, in her normal form, not some McGonagall look-a-like. She went over to the mantle, took down the glass, and sniffed it. She took a quick drink. Harry gasped as she threw it on the fire. "Drowning your sorrows, I see."

Remus smiled. "I didn't even start yet. You're just in time. Fancy a drink?"

"I didn't come here for a drink."

"Then what did you come here for?" Remus demanded. "I've said all that needs to be said."

"But I haven't," Tonks replied angrily. "You can't expect to write me some letter filled with excuses and just leave things the way they are, can you?"

"I don't know what I expect anymore." Remus groaned as he sat down in his armchair. "I'm old, Tonks. Too old."

"That's the Firewhiskey talking." She plopped down on the ottoman across from him and reached out for his weathered hands. "You're cold," she said, and began rubbing his fingers in her palms.

"I'm not cold," he muttered. "I'm old."

"Stop that nonsense."

"It's not nonsense!" Remus ripped his hand away from hers and stood up from the chair. "Tonks, I don't know what you're playing at here, but it's not going to work. You can't just waltz in here - when I'm drunk and weak - and try to seduce me on a night like tonight." He paced around the room, the flames from the fireplace reflecting the wildness in his eyes.

"Well, you can't expect me to sit around in my office knowing that you're holed up here all alone on a night like tonight!" Tonks exploded.

What was so special about tonight? Harry wondered.

"I'm an old man," Remus said again. But this time, there was such sorrow in his voice that Harry barely recognized it. "You're the youngest Auror in Britain, Tonks. You don't need an old man like me around."

Tonks stood up walked over to him, her eyes clouded with concern. She wrapped both arms around his waist and hugged him closely, embracing him. "It doesn't matter how old you are, Remus. I'm still going to love you."

Remus frowned, but held her tightly against his chest for a few moments. "We can't do this," he said again. Tonks pulled away and stared at him incredulously. "I won't hurt you. Not again."

"And you won't," Tonks replied. "Remus, it was different before. I'm involved now. I'm in this just as deep as you are. I was the one who captured her!" she exploded. "I put her back in Azkaban!"

"You think she'll just stay there?" he demanded. "Azkaban is nothing without the Dementors." He walked over to the fireplace mantle, then moved the picture closer into the light, straightening it. Harry realized what the photograph was. It must have been taken before he was born, and it was of the Marauders. Remus, Sirius, Wormtail, and his father all sat together in the photograph, huddled around a game of Wizard's Chess. "Do you really think that Bellatrix will waste away in Azkaban? You know she's stronger than that. Voldemort will rescue her. He will take her back at any cost."

"That's only more reason to stop this nonsense!" Tonks exploded. "We're stronger if we're together, not if we're apart."

"I used to believe in strength in unity," Remus continued sadly. "There used to be four of us," Remus continued. "First we lost James. Now Sirius. Peter left us some time ago. I could be next. I'll not let you bury me as I have buried them."

"Remus, that was different. Peter was the culprit of their demise."

"No. He wasn't. Voldemort was. If only I could have stopped him. If only I could have done something..."

"You can't blame yourself for the past," Tonks hissed. "You know it's not your fault."

"I do know that today is Sirius's birthday, and that he should be here celebrating with James and Lily and Harry, not in some undead dimension of voices. I know that Voldemort has been playing with us for far too long, and that the time for the final battle is drawing nearer with each day. I won't let you get involved. I don't care what it takes. I'll do everything I can to protect the people I love."

Harry suddenly felt sickened inside. Sirius's birthday. It was his godfather's birthday and he didn't even know it. And all Remus could talk about was how he was next. How he wouldn't allow himself to get close to the woman he loved because he was too afraid he would break her heart in death.

He yanked the Moon Guide away from his eye, and whispered hoarsely, "I have seen all there is to be seen."

His own bed suddenly felt foreign to him. Hogwarts, his safe haven and home for the past six years, now made him feel as though the walls were closing in on him. Every corner he looked in reminded him of his battles with Voldemort. Of the dead. Of Cedric. Of Sirius. How many more people would have to die? How many more nights would he wake up to the sound of his mother's screaming? To a voice beyond on a veil? To the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange?

As his anger boiled inside of him, he felt he would explode if he didn't get out of the common room. If he didn't get away from all of his memories and nightmares and visions. Watching Remus had been the last straw. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to get away. But where could he go? Who could he go to?

And the answer came to him. There was only one place he could go. There was only one person who would listen to him - he hoped.

Eva.