Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 38

March 1 –finale

The longest and most painful moments in your life are the ones that immediately follow the sudden revelation that someone close to you has just died in a war.

When someone dies of natural causes, naturally the reaction to such a death must be silent shock and grief. When someone dies in an accident I’m sure there must be some kind of feeling of a great injustice…

But as someone who has only ever known death through the tainted eyes of murder and war… nothing quite compares.

The moments following the news of a family member, or a close friend, or even just a co-worker’s death are always the longest and most painful moments you’ll ever experience. You feel an overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

Why? Because you know somehow, even if it wasn’t possible at all, that you could have done something to stop it. That somehow you are to blame. You know that somehow you could have acted so that things had come out differently, but didn’t. Or were too late.

You blame yourself. And when the moment finally comes when you realize that it wasn’t your fault… you blame everyone else.

You become so consumed by your loathing and vengeful desires that it is all you can ever act on. You become an agent of revenge and hatred…propagating the problem.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, but no matter what it’s going to kill you.

But I found that, looking at the motionless body of Neville Longbottom as Remus laid him in a room to himself, carefully casting spells to stop him from decaying (a thought that brings up more than just my lunch in my throat), I didn’t care if revenge would kill me eventually.

Because I’m going to get it.

I will exact my revenge on Bellatrix Lestrange. I will destroy her –not murder, annihilate –for everything she’s done.

I held Harry close, running my fingers down his neck soothingly as we walked back into the sitting room at Grimmauld Place to go back over everything that had happened… and see what it was that went so bloody wrong.

The She-Weasel and Luna were lying in their room, given potions for dreamless sleep. The Imperius Curse was lifted on Weasel and Lupin administered some of the Glumbumble’s fluid excretions to Luna to assuage the effects of the Alihotsy.

She would soon be back to her usual mad self.

Back in the sitting room, Remus and Tonks administered quick first aid to each of us with different wounds. Luckily (if you can call it that) the rest of us didn’t sustain any dangerous injuries.

None of us spoke. We were silent and staring off at nothing as we let ourselves be aided and took potions to help calm the rampant emotions and numbing misery.

“Perhaps you should all get some sleep now,” Tonks suggested. “We can talk in the morning.”

“No,” Harry said immediately and firmly. “We have to do this now.”

I turned to him. He was right. There was no sense in putting it off. We needed to figure some things out now. Sending us to sleep would just give us time to let our minds wander back and forth from the horrifying images of Longbottom’s death to all the worst possible scenarios.

Nothing about that was comforting.

I never thought I would feel this way about anyone, least of all Neville Longbottom. Not counting Harry, I didn’t think I could give a damn at all about anyone else’s death.

Just goes to show you that you don’t even know yourself until you’ve been put to the test.

“What exactly… happened?” Granger asked. She had bandages around her arms and there were thin cuts on her face. Her hair looked as though the tips had been singed and there was a deep purple hue around her eye.

I vaguely remembered seeing her like that once before in Madam Malkin’s. I’d told her I wanted to send flowers to whoever caused it.

Needless to say, now I feel a bit different.

Almost wish I didn’t. If I were still just the same old Draco I was before, I might not hurt so much.

But I was always this Draco, I think. I just never let him out.

And now that I have, can I ever really lock him away again?

“We should start from the beginning,” Remus said wisely. “What happened after you all got to the Orphanage?”

We all looked thoughtful for a few moments, trying to recall all the little details of the day. For some reason, it seemed so much easier than it should have been.

“We got there and saw… nothing,” I began. “Just the ruined building, spindly trees poking out of the grey ground… no sounds but the wind and nothing but the gates in the distance.”

“Come to think of it,” Harry admitted. “We didn’t see you three anywhere. Where were you??”

“We were patrolling the perimeters and casting the intricate Disillusionment charms,” Moody replied gruffly, sensing the accusation in Harry’s voice. “Of course you didn’t see us. We used Invisibility spells. Safer that way. You lot should have dome something similar.”

“They wouldn’t have been able to see one another if they had used those spells,” Remus shot Moody’s suggestion down. “That really wouldn’t have been all that much safer, would it?”

“Well it would have made it much harder for Weasley to get attacked,” he sneered back.

“This is not helping,” I warned dangerously.

“You are right, Draco,” Remus agreed as pleasantly as he could, despite how badly he seemed to be taking the death. “We just mean to say that we were indeed there, surveying the area carefully.”

“Then how did they get in?!” Harry snapped. I tensed. This was not Remus’ fault. No one in that room was to blame. I’d like to think I’m particularly good at spotting traitors and I did not see any.

“They Apparated,” Moody answered angrily.

“That’s it?” I demanded furiously. “They just Apparated?! I thought you were putting up wards and defenses! How the bloody hell could they just APPARATE inside if you were PROTECTING US?!”

“Alecto Carrow showed first,” Tonks admitted. “We saw her do it and immediately caught her. I changed my outfit to match hers and modified my image so that I could impersonate her. Remus and Mad-Eye then took her to the Ministry.”

“We had no time to waste,” Remus admitted sadly. “It took two of us to bring her in to the Aurors there to be dealt with accordingly. We had to leave Tonks there and by the time we returned Ginny was already attacked and more had arrived. Tonks couldn’t blow her cover that easily and try to stop them. We had to wait for the right moment.”

“So who attacked Ginny then?” Weasley demanded, his face full of fury.

“Rudolphus Lestrange,” Tonks answered. “Upon the suggestion of his wife.”

“And you did nothing to stop it?!” Weasley burst out, balling his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“Ron, please!” Tonks pleaded. “I did! I tried to convince him to attack someone else instead… someone who would have a better chance of fighting off the curse. I thought Hermione might be harder to control but Bellatrix insisted. It took everything I had not to curse him on the spot.”

“She probably knew something about the Weasley weakness,” I suggested quietly. “Though I have no idea how.”

“What happened after Ginny was attacked? And why didn’t they get Ron? He’s a Weasley too,” Harry rambled, looking as though he was trying very hard not to burst and destroy everything that was in his path.

“Ginny was on her own,” Tonks continued. “I don’t know why, but she walked off to the side and came around the building. That’s when Rudolphus attacked her.”

“Why was she alone?!” Harry was livid and unintentionally blaming everyone through his anger.

“She wanted to go around the building to see if there was a back exit,” Granger admitted, her face turning a shade of pink. “Ron wanted to go with her but she insisted he stay and help me with the door.”

“It wouldn’t have been safe to leave Hermione alone either,” Weasley conceded, suddenly looking very culpable. But this wasn’t his fault either.

None of them were going to see that.

“Alright,” Harry hissed through his teeth. “Then what happened? How did you two get caught??”

Granger and Weasley looked at one another.

“They came from behind,” Weasley said with little emotion in his voice. It was hollow and distant. “We didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.”

“I don’t know how they did it but they moved like wind,” Granger said with a similar timbre to her voice. By the look in her eyes I’d say she was about to cry. “Oh, Harry! I feel like such a fool!”

Harry’s jaw clenched and he looked as though he wanted to try and say something comforting but couldn’t manage. He was glaring at the ground before him with a mixture of anger and guilt.

“We all let our guard down,” I admitted forcibly.

“We were no more prepared for it than you were,” Harry finally admitted.

“But how did they know we would be there?” I asked, frustrated. Even if what Harry had suggested –that they were waiting for us in order to ambush us –how could they have known that we would go there on that day? Surely they haven’t been staking the place out for this long? It didn’t feel right…

“I told you they would ambush us!” Harry retorted, though his rage didn’t come across completely.

“I just can’t believe it,” I whispered, trying to mull it all over in my head.

And Snape’s words as Harry and I fought were just… odd.

He was so unwilling to hurt us at first. He could have easily tortured us to get the cup. He could have used any one of his spells… or killed us on the spot and be made an even greater hero in his master’s eyes… but he didn’t.

He continued to… to teach… even through it all.

And not once did he try to use a deadly attack on Harry… or me. What for? Was it the sadistic pleasure he took in dueling with us and pushing us past our limits?

Or was it something entirely different?

“Where is Carrow now?” I asked suddenly. “And Nott. You took Nott as well.”

“They are both in Ministry custody,” Moody explained with a derisive snort. “As if that’ll hold ‘em. But we’ve got nowhere better for ‘em right now.”

“Nott,” Remus said quietly. “Theodore Nott. He’s dead.”

I got very quiet and stared at nothing. My eyes were empty and distant as I tried to imagine what I felt.

What did I feel? Relief? No… I wasn’t relieved he was dead. I wasn’t afraid of him. I hated him with every fiber of my being… but I wasn’t afraid of Nott. I would never give him that satisfaction.

Joy? No… I wasn’t happy either. How could I be? I’d killed someone… no matter how much he deserved to die.

“Draco…” Remus said quietly, looking intently at me. My head snapped up and before I could stop myself I said it.

“He raped me,” I stated bluntly and with no emotion. “He raped me and destroyed me and so I killed him.”

Everyone was silent and staring at me for a moment. Harry shifted closer and wrapped his arms around me. Though the movement was rough, I welcomed it. I needed it. This was not a moment for tenderness.

“Draco you… killed a man,” Tonks repeated quietly, in shock.

“No he didn’t,” Harry piped in. “He didn’t kill a man. He killed a monster.” He looked around the room. “And I have to kill Voldemort. Will I be a murderer? Yes. But I’m told that’s what I need to do. That’s what you are all asking of me. Does that justify it? Maybe not but it sure as hell makes it understandable. Forgivable… maybe.”

“This is a war,” Granger continued. “People are going to die on both sides… and we will have to be the causes of some of those deaths, whether we like it or not. It’s not right but we each face the burden of our actions and I don’t think it’s possible to say that anyone out there would not have done the same thing in Draco’s place… or indeed wouldn’t do the same thing in Harry’s.”

“We weren’t about to arrest him, Hermione,” Remus explained calmly. “And given the circumstances as revealed, the otherwise harsh reaction seems much more easily explained.” He turned to me with a sad expression that reminded me of a puppy. “I didn’t know, Draco. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” I answered abruptly before I could stop myself. Remus was obviously not referring to the same thing I was.

“Never quite the same are we?” Moody asked with no hint of disdain. “After the first murder, I mean.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know how to answer that. So I didn’t. But he seemed to understand no less.

Everyone got quiet again, as was inevitable. The events of the past twenty-four hours kept replaying in everyone’s mind, in bright flashes of colour as though it was all just a very surreal and very haunting dream.

No one knew what to say anymore, but did anything really need to be said?

“What happens now?” Harry finally asked. His anger seemed to have ebbed as we sat there in the silence, but his grief and anxiety echoed powerfully on the air. “I mean… I want to have a funeral for Neville.” His voice wavered as he spoke, the words still not quite certain as they fell from his lips. He didn’t want to really accept the idea that his friend was dead and gone. That he would never speak with him again.

No one ever did.

“How can we do that? And where?” I asked, feeling Harry’s need for this closure. Perhaps much of my sudden feelings for Longbottom stemmed from how much I love Harry… and how much –despite my best efforts –my love for him makes me care about those he cares about…

“I think we need to wait,” Remus told us carefully. “I don’t think it is safe for any of us to have a funeral for Neville right now. He deserves to be laid to rest when it is safe for him to do so. Who knows what kind of depraved things Voldemort could do with him if he got wind that he is your friend, Harry.”

I flinched at the thought. I knew exactly what Remus was talking about but it still sounded so crude and indecent to actually voice the thoughts. Remus looked disgusted with himself and Harry’s cheek muscles tensed as he clenched his jaw. He took a moment to calm his breathing.

Granger had her hand over her mouth in horror and Weasley looked ill again. With good reason this time.

“Will he stay here?” I asked, hesitating a bit first. I was rather uncomfortable with the idea of having a dead body (no matter who it belonged to) staying in the same house as I was.

“No,” Tonks explained. “Tomorrow I will take his body to stay with Aberforth. He will lay to rest next to the other Order members that have been lost so far.”

“Then what?” Weasley asked.

“What do you mean?” I retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well,” he began. “We’ve destroyed all the Horcruxes except the snake and Voldemort… what do we do now?”

“We need to figure out where Voldemort is,” Harry thought aloud. There was an eeriness around the room. No one’s voice was quite with them… no one’s eyes were focused. No one was wholly themselves. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

I was the only one who killed today.

“Once we do that,” Granger continued. “I suppose we don’t have any other option but to confront him.”

“We need to ambush him,” Harry said harshly. “We need to ambush him like his bloody followers ambushed us.” He took a few deep breaths before burying his face in his hands with a groan. “But how do we DO that?! There are still so many questions unanswered! So many things I still don’t know!”

“There are still people missing,” I added, thinking back over the events of the past few years. “Still actions that are unexplained… and where do we start with looking? How could we ever know exactly where Voldemort and the Death-Eaters have been hiding?”

“You’ve been there, haven’t you?” Granger asked innocently. I scanned her voice for disdain but there was none.

I sighed and shook my head.

“I don’t know if where they took me was anywhere near their actual headquarters,” I admitted. “And I didn’t see any part of the place except the room Voldemort threatened me in.”

“And what has he been plotting?!” Harry cried out angrily. “He’s been kidnapping and killing Ministry members but most of them are from the Department of Mysteries. He’s started a war with Muggles but hardly seems to really care about that. I don’t understand what he’s getting at!”

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly called from behind us. “I think I know someone who may have the answer to those questions. Though one would think that the infamous Order of the Phoenix would be better informed than this. Clearly I overestimated you.”

I spun around, expecting to see some unwanted intruder standing there, but there wasn’t. My eyes scanned the dark wall until I found the source of the voice.

On the wall, where there usually hung an empty frame, was now the painting of a very familiar man. He stood, looking down his nose as us with a disagreeable grimace on his face. It was as though he was here much against his will and was determined to make the worst of the situation just to prove his displeasure.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked before I could stop myself. I don’t appreciate being treated in a condescending fashion. Not by anyone.

The man in the portrait looked alarmed and affronted.

Good.

“I, you insolent child,” he began with his arrogant air. “Am Phineas Nigellus Black! Former Headmaster of Hogwarts!”

“Former,” I commented with my signature drawl. I was not going to be treated like an infant. “Ah yes. You were the one no one liked.”

“Why, I never!” he exclaimed but Remus cleared his throat.

“Did you have a message, Phineas?” he asked, trying to divert the portrait’s attention. The picture huffed at me and turned to Remus.

“Dumbledore requests an audience with the likes of you all,” he spat, his voice full of disdain.

“Dumbledore?” I asked before I could stop myself. How was that possible? Dumbledore is dead…

I saw it happen…

“His PORTRAIT,” Black sneered at me in his condescending manner. I snarled.

“Right now??” Harry asked. He didn’t seem to mind the rudeness I was showing the portrait.

“No, you twit,” the portrait snapped. “If you’d all let me finish without any further interruption than I can be out of here and as far away from you lot as possible very shortly.” I glared at him. What gall he has for a painting. So easily burnt and turned to ashes. “He requests your presence at Hogwarts in several days. Headmistress McGonagall will send message by Patronus to alert you. He has much to reveal.”

And without another word, the portrait was empty again and nothing more than a frame.

“Dumbledore,” Harry muttered, thinking hard as he stared at his hands. “Why has he waited this long to contact us if he has so much to tell?”

“The portraits are bound by the knowledge that their body had before death,” Remus explained. “And by the intentions of that person. Perhaps he could not reveal to us all he knows before now… perhaps it wasn’t safe. Who knows… Dumbledore has always acted in very mysterious ways. No one has ever questioned him and those who did are no longer around to tell about it. Fudge is a good example.”

“I think you all should get to bed now,” Tonks said suddenly. “It’s been a long day…”

We nodded and made our way out of the room, but I wasn’t sure how to feel as I got back to my room with Harry and divested to get into bed.

How should I feel? I killed a man today… and witnessed the death of an innocent friend (for there is nothing else but that to title him) and just received word that I was going to speak with the man whose death I am ultimately the cause.

If anything, I should not feel good.

But I didn’t feel terribly bad either…

-------IIIIIII-------

A/N: This chapter is… numb. That’s how I see it. That’s how I see the first little while after a death… everything is numb. Reactions are erratic and uncontrolled but the most prominent feeling is numbness. The explanations and bits here are meant to lead into the ending of the story.

I foresee about five more chapters… perhaps a few more… perhaps one less. I don’t know exactly but it’s coming steadily to a close… and I’m a little sad… but also rather proud as I like the way most of it turned out and have finally managed to plot out the final battle… which took forever to do as I was trying to make it… plausible… and not completely mad.

Though it might be completely mad anyway.

Ah well.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support and I am still so sorry about the last chapter. The reaction was mainly positive (if you can call it that, considering) though still… I feel guilty for having done something so bad. But that’s what needs to be done right? I’ve never been one to think along the lines of “it’s a war, people have to die” because I hate to believe it, but in fiction I suppose I don’t have much choice but to use things that are in fact real. I can’t just pretend that war isn’t terrible and that only the ‘bad guys’ will lose and suffer. Because they don’t. They never do.

It’s hard to have to write that. And I know that things like these are meant to be escapes… to get away from the real world angst and pain… but I was trying to follow a sequence of events that was plausible for book 7 and that involves deaths and unpleasant things.

Which scares me… what with book 7 coming out so soon and all.

Also, I just want to highlight something I didn’t before about Ginny. I know I said already that the way she has acted was more or less subjectively depicted by Draco (as he does not like her much) but it’s also this… I’m not just writing Ginny as evil or treacherous. I’m trying to write her as I think she would react to the given situation.

She probably sees herself as a kind of ‘wronged woman’, which, given the situation, isn’t totally unrealistic. She was with Harry and happy and in love and then he suddenly breaks it off to protect her. Ok, noble intentions even if they are stupid, but alright. But what likely hurt more was not that only that Harry had started seeing someone else after this fact and did not decide to break up with them to protect them as well, but that this person was a GUY and Draco Malfoy –sworn enemy of all Gryffindors and evil bloody git.

To her anyway. So, on some level, it’s understandable that she is just venting her anger. But she’ll come around.

Sorry I just wanted to give a little more insight into that. I hope it helped, or at least… didn’t make things confusing haha

Love you all sooooooo much for following me along this crazy road!

Adoration and treats to all!!