Last Mistake

Chapter eight - Tip of the wave

"I heard about your little arrest party," Leward said casually. "Did you catch him?"

Dondres didn't even spare a glance his way before walking into his office and slamming it shut with a loud 'bang!'

"I guess that's a 'no'."

Shrugging, his attention returned tothe cup of coffee he was making. Sugar and cream flew from the counter to his cup as a bewitched spoon began stirring all the added contents magically.

"Way to salt the wound, Lee," someone said over his shoulders.

"I was only asking," he replied, turning around with his hands up in mock surrender.

The young man, in his twenties, no doubt, wore an unconvinced expression on his face with his goatee hanging from his chin distractingly.

"All I'm saying is that you ease up on him. Merlin knows we, as in those working under him, always get the wrath of whatever bad mood he's in."

Leward was staring at the distraction, seemingly deaf to what was being said.

"Is that new?" he asked.

"What?"

"That patch of hair on your chin."

The man in question rolled his eyes at the description.

"It's a goatee," he corrected. "And it's been there for a while. I'm surprised you hadn't noticed it already."

"I hope your brother isn't giving you too hard a time about it," Leward said.

"Believe me, he already did. That suck-up. Speaking of my brother, he's looking for you. Something about that evidence he found yesterday."

"Oh right. Thanks."

The young man grunted and walked away.

Meanwhile, Leward made his way over to the young man's brother.

"Hey, I was looking for you."

"I heard. So, what do you need, Nate?"

"The results of the blood on that shirt, what else?"

"Is that all?" He pulled a folder from under his arm and handed it to him. "It's all in there."

"Thanks," Nate replied as he opened the file to look at the results. He looked back up at Leward a second later.

"I don't understand how the blood on that shirt could belong to-"

"I know, it doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"Hey, I'm just the auror. You're the investigator," Nate said, handing the folder back. "You might want to show that to Dondres, just as procedure, but other than that-"

"It's all up to me to figure out why."

"Now go away since you're getting paid."

"And you're not?"

"Hardly."

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Sparks of lightning and thunder rumbled above the students as they all hurried to find their seat in the Great Hall. The entire staff and professors were all present and accounted for and they patiently waited for the last group of students to be seated. Dumbledore stood and immediately, the sky calmed and the lightning subsided.

"Before we begin our wonderfully prepared supper, I would like to ask that we all indulge in a moment of silence for those that have graciously sacrificed for the worthy cause against Voldemort. For without them, this peace we now reside in would never exist."

Not a sound was heard for the next few minutes as everyone thought of how the times have changed and who has come and gone in just a short amount of time.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore, ending the moment of silence. "Now, I couldn't help but hear of the numerous rumors that have aroused the excitement in everyone today. I shall put a stop to some of these rumors now. I'm afraid we will not be having a ball nor will there be a reconstruction of the Quidditch Patch as I see there is nothing wrong with it. And no Mr. Kelney, we will not lift the rule to allow the testing of your inventions on the first years."

Dumbledore smiled at the second year who is the well-known prankster of his year.

"As you know, our former Deputy Headmistress unfortunately passed away during the battle with a group of Death Eaters. Her contributions will not be forgotten. Now, after much thought, I have come to a decision. I would like to congratulate Professor Severus Snape as our new Deputy Headmaster."

There was a mixed reaction from the students. Of course, many of the applause came from the Slytherin table, while groans can be heard from a majority of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table.

"I'm sure my decision will be a asset to the professors and the students for the rest of the year and more. And now, without further ado, dinner is served!" said Dumbledore, as food magically appeared on each table.

After dinner, Remus headed towards the teachers' quarters. There was a common room just like those of the students and many professors were having quiet discussions between themselves. He casually waved to those that saw him and he astutely made his way towards the guestrooms in the back. Not many stayed there since the professor each have their own sleeping quarters behind their offices.

Remus stopped at a nearby door and knocked. It was opened a second later by Madame Promfrey, who had an annoyed expression on her face. She lightly pushed Remus outside the door and closed it behind them.

"How is he?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. He won't let me near him or his eyes."

"What?"

"I suggest someone have a talk with him because I'm all out of talk. Call me when he's ready to be examined. I'm sure there is something I can do to help him but if I don't, then another healer will. But as long as he keeps it to himself, no one will be able to help him."

"Thanks for trying though."

Madame Promfrey shook her head and headed out. Remus signed and knocked on the door again, mentally preparing for what he'd have to say.

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"It's happening all over again. They're going to come after my friends, after Sirius, and after my 'enemies'?"

"And you," she added.

"And me," Harry repeated. "How do you expect me to stop them? I'm invisible and transparent. Unless I can stare them to death, there's nothing I can do. And what if they've already gotten to them?"

"That's why I'm going to help you."

"Help me how? What can you do?" he asked, frustration creeping into his words.

She ignored his tone of voice, knowing that she shouldn't get offended.

"First, we'll find a way to get in touch. The least we can do is let them know what's going on. I'm sure someone caught on to something. Then, I will teach you to solidify your movements for as long as possible."

----------

There was no answered after several knocks. Finally, Remus decided to let himself in since the door wasn't locked. Once inside, Remus noticed how dark the room was. Luckily, he was able to adjust to it quickly due to his werewolf abilities.

As he walked further into the room, he saw a lamp on the desk as the only source of light that is illuminating the room. Sirius was sitting in a chair in front of the desk and he was fingering a small package. He now also wore a pair of sunglasses that covered his eyes. A longer cane replaced the stick he used previously.

Remus wasn't sure how to approach Sirius. They hadn't seen each other for quite some time and although Remus sent letters daily, Sirius' replies were always limited to a sentence or two at the most.

"Remus, you don't have to stand so far away."

"Uh...yeah," said Remus as he walked closer. He took a seat on the side of the bed. "How did you know it was me?"

"Because I recognized the sound your shoes make when you walk," Sirius said in a bored voice.

"Oh..."

"No, I don't pay attention to the sounds you make when you walk. But if it's not you, who else would hesitate when they want to talk to me?"

Remus didn't answer. He felt awkward and out of touch with the man sitting in front of him. He used to know him like the back of his hand, but things are certainly different than before...

"So what happened?" Remus asked, after some silence.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is what happened when Madame Promfrey came to examine you? She told me you wouldn't let her."

"There's nothing she can do," Sirius said, offhandedly.

"How would you know? You're not a healer and maybe she's just a school nurse, but she at least know more about it than you do."

Remus sighed. It was hard watching Sirius this way. It was difficult enough trying to decipher Sirius' thoughts when he wasn't hurt and now it's even more difficult when Remus couldn't see Sirius' eyes. They usually told him what Sirius was feeling and he felt lost without them staring back at him.

"I don't know what's going through your head, but whatever it is, you need to work it out. It scares me to see you like this and I want you to have all the help that you can get. It's not hopeless, not if you don't make it so," said Remus.

"I don't want to talk about this," said Sirius, evasively.

"Why not? Don't you care at all about your own well-being? Don't you want to be able to see again?" asked Remus, exasperated.

Sirius didn't answer right away.

"I don't know."

Remus sensed something was wrong when Sirius took so long to answer. He gently took off the sunglasses that Sirius wore. They stared back at him with those white empty orbs.

"Padfoot, I know you're afraid. I am too, but you'll never know if you don't have them examined. I'm sure there's a way to fix it. You have to stay optimistic."

Sirius closed his eyes, holding back his mixed emotions.

It really wasn't the prospect of being blind that scared him most; it was what he saw that haunted him. While most would think that he would see black only, they couldn't be more far from the truth. Being blind made it harder for him to push away the images of his past and Harry. That's why he never slept for long periods of time.

"I'm here for you if you need me Sirius. But you've got to take a chance. It's the only way," Remus said, his hand on Sirius' shoulder.

He wasn't ready to face it, but he knew what he had to do.

Sirius fumbled for his sunglasses and Remus handed it back to him. He then grabbed his cane and stood up shakily. Using the sound of Remus' breathing as direction, Sirius walked closer until he was only a few inches from Remus. He faced Remus directly with his eyes opened.

"If I'm going to be examined, I want a real healer to do it."

"That can be arranged," Remus answered, stiffly. He was trying to stare at anything but those eyes.

Sirius put his sunglasses back on and he walked away from Remus and towards the fireplace that was in his room. He reached on top of the fireplace, feeling for something. Remus walked over, not sure whether that was a dismissal or not. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Sirius was searching for and put it in his hands.

"Don't drink too much," Remus said, as he headed towards the door.

"Don't tell anyone else that I'm here," Sirius called after him.

Remus didn't question him. "I won't." He left the room, leaving Sirius at the fire.

Sirius threw something into the fire and a head popped into sight.

"Black, glad you're alright. I was beginning to worry," the head in the fire said. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere safe. Now, tell me why they're after me."

----------

"Would you please repeat your plan to me?" asked Harry.

Eavan had been muttering incoherently for the past minutes and Harry was unable to catch a single thing from her. Harry sighed. She was still muttering!

"Eaven," he called, silently but firmly.

Suddenly she whipped her head in his direction and seemed genuinely surprised to see him there.

"Hogwarts!" she burst out.

"What about Hogwarts?"

"That's where you'll try to contact someone. I assume there are people there that you know."

"Yes, Remus is a professor there."

"Great!" she said, dragging Harry over to her. "Then we'll go now. This is going to feel somewhat like apparating, only faster."

Somehow, Harry wasn't too receptive of her enthusiasm. Since their mutual agreement to start over, Eavan has been less subdued and more outgoing. Harry, however, wasn't quite sure which side of her he preferred.

Before he had a chance to ask what she was going to do, a large hole opened up from where his feet supposedly stood and swallowed him inside. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been 'dropping' but his face was flushed and his hair was flailing all over, making him more disheveled than ever.

For a while, he was sinking in a whirl of darkness and the only thing that kept him conscious of what was happening was the hand that held his own. They were falling at a speed that made his stomach launch uncomfortably. Harry was sure that that was not a good thing if he could actually 'feel' his stomach when no such thing existed.

In Harry's opinion, it seemed like forever before they stopped falling. When they were stilled, Harry leaned against whatever that happened to be holding him up until his head and the world stopped spinning. After regaining his balance, he muttered a hushed 'thanks' to Eaven for keeping him upright.

"You'll be fine," she said, shortly.

'Yeah, thanks for asking,' thought Harry.

"Take a breather. I expect you'll feel more comfortable next time. Traveling with seconds can wipe you out the first time around."

"What do you mean traveling with seconds?"

"I mean exactly what I said. From the time we left to the time we got here only took about one second...or less. I'll teach you how to do that later," she said, casually.

Harry blanched at her last statement. He didn't want to do that again.

"Now let's find that Professor of yours," she said, cheerily, and much to Harry's dismay.

"This way," Harry said, once he realized where they were. He still had no idea how they were going to accomplish a communication with the living and it seems that Eavan wants to keep that information from him till the last moment.

----------

"What are you doing up?"

Ron didn't have to look up to know that Hermione was standing in his doorway.

"I thought you're weren't talking to me. What happened? Got tired of the silent treatment so soon?" he asked, bitingly.

"Is this about George?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's bitterness.

"Just leave me alone. It's none of your bloody business anyways," Ron said, not once looking up.

Hermione didn't want to lose it again, so she decided to leave, but not without having the last word.

"I'm here even though I'm still mad at you Ron. I'm putting aside my anger to ask you what's wrong, because I care. But if you don't want me to care, then I won't."

Ron didn't even flinch when Hermione left. He would probably end up apologizing later, but right now, he was too overwhelmed with his emotions to care. The envelope only had one word on it: Ron.

With shaking hands, he tore it opened to pull out a letter written in the messy scrawl of his older brother.

Dear Ron,

As much as I hate how impersonal and cold a letter seem to be, I couldn't do this any other way. I'm not usually the brother that you look to for advice, but I think just this once, you need to hear something that wouldn't be the same coming from anyone other than me. I've never mentioned Fred since it happened and it's going to be hard for you to read this letter as much as it took me writing it.

I don't blame Harry. Neither should you.

I know, you're thinking, 'why not?' I've asked myself that same question far more times than you can imagine. And you know something? That question led me to many other questions. What would I have done if I were in Harry's place? How would Fred feel if a different choice was made, where he lived while many others died in his place? Well, I've thought them through and the answers somehow made me feel a whole lot better than when I was hating Harry as much as you and the rest of the family was.

Every time I thought of Harry, I saw red. It wasn't just anger, it was also hurt. Yes, hating Harry hurts because he's the wrong person to blame. When I asked myself, 'what would I have done if I was Harry at that moment, having to choose between a friend and billions of people with Voldemort breathing down my neck?' I honestly couldn't imagine what I would do. If I chose Fred, I would've been the most selfish person in the world.

But you say, he's family, my twin, and my brother, how could I let him die? Then I will tell you, I can't choose Fred because I know it would cause him even more pain if I chose him. I know Fred better than anyone and if Harry had made a different choice, I know that Fred would be too miserable and guilt-ridden to live. I know I would rather not live if my life can spare billion of others. We may have been pranksters, but I know there's a reason other than the long-standing Weasley tradition that we were put in Gryffindor and I think Fred showed us that.

I'm not saying all this just because of Harry. I'm saying all this because I don't want you to have to hate your best friend for the rest of your life thinking that he betrayed us. Think about it, all right? Just think about everything I said. I know it's easier said than done. Believe me, I'm trying to take my own advice. Maybe when I can finally accept it all, it'll hurt less. Because that's all I'm trying to do right now. To stop the pain.

Consider this my one brotherly advice to you and I hope this'll last you your lifetime, because I'm ready to drop the Percy role and go back to being your way, way, way less serious brother. It's less tiring when you're the fun one. Trust me.

I'm going away for a while to see a friend up north. Don't worry, I told mum and dad in their letter too so you won't have to. I'll be back. Take care and don't forget about what I said.

Your brother (the fun one),

George

Ron wiped the tears from his eyes. He didn't know why he was crying, but he was. He would never have imagined that George had it in him to be so wise and profound. Much of what George said made sense. He doesn't blame Harry. Ron wanted to believe George so bad that Harry wasn't to blame, but it was hard.

Every time he thought about Fred, he thought about how he died and how Harry had killed him. Yes, Voldemort had a major part in it, but for once, the spell that took his brother away came from Harry's own wand and not from Voldemort's.

"How can I get pass that?"

George was right; it was easier said than done. It would take time. Lots of time.

As he was about to throw it away, another letter dropped from the envelope when Ron tipped it upside down. Ron looked at the neat writing. It looked like a bank statement.

Dear Mr. Ronald Weasley,

We hereby inform you that a new account has been made in your name by one, Mr. Fred Weasley. At the present time, a total of 20,000 Galleon is on hold to be deposited in your new account upon activation. There will be a continued payment and increase of 1,000 Galleon per month by Zonko's, Inc. for as long as the company stands. Should Zonko, inc. be terminated, so will the agreed monthly payment. You must make a visit at Gringotts within 10 days of this statement to activate and confirm your acceptance of your new account. If you have any questions regarding this matter, feel free to contact us by owl or any other means of communication. Thank you for your time.

Herick Bakcok

Manager of Account, Gringotts, Diagon Alley Branch

Ron's mouth dropped opened at the amount stated in the letter.

----------

The sky blackened throughout the night and into the early morning. Some of the occupants of the castle nestled comfortably in their beds sound asleep. While a few others couldn't sleep as hard as they tried. Sirius was one of them.

Even after a whole bottle of whiskey, he couldn't jolt the thoughts from his head. His high alcohol tolerance allowed him to stay awake through the night. With nothing to do, he found himself focused on the small burdensome package on his desk. A sudden surge of blind courage led him to be left with a messily ripped piece of wrapping paper and the contents within lying openly on the desk.

Sirius couldn't see it, but as soon as he felt the silky-smooth material in his hands, he knew just what Harry had left him. An old ruffled parchment fell onto his lap, he too knew what it was: The Marauder's Map. Sirius now held in his hands, Harry's most prized possessions and he knew just how much these two items has meant to Harry. They have also been used as weapons in the war. Sirius couldn't remember how many times Harry had used James' cloak to gather information from the enemy.

'They should be in a museum, not with me' Sirius thought, undeservingly.

He knew from the weight of the package that there was more. However, he also had a feeling that whatever else was there would be harder to accept than the Marauder's Map and the invisibility cloak. Right now, he just wasn't ready to 'see' it all.

Sirius covered the rest of the package back with the ripped paper and placed them securely in a desk drawer, one that he can lock.