HPNS- Chapter 9

Read Chapter 8 here or start at the beginning

DIRGE OF A WARRIOR

“The scores are tied with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw at ninety, and we have Gavin Davis heading for the Gryffindor goalpost!” announced a loud voice at the magical megaphone.

“Davis intercepted by Walter Stevens! He flies towards the Ravenclaw end… GO STEVENS!”

A multitude of supporters in blue screamed with anticipation. Stevens was almost there, his progress unblocked and the hoop before him, unprotected.

“BLIMEY! Fantastic bludger work from the Gryffindor beater Hastings! It gets Stevens straight in the head. Quaffle in possession with Angela Haynes! She’s moving steady… this is it folk!”

Angela scored a point for Gryffindor and did an excited loop-the-loop in the air. She looked up some ten feet above her and waved at a red-haired player hovering in and out of the others. He gave her a thumbs-up… Angela smiled as the wind blew her hair about.

“A moment’s intermission as Charlie Weasley flirts with the very eligible Angela Haynes” the voice on the megaphone informed the crowd. There was a burst of laughter and whistles in the stands and the legion of red-clad fans shrieked “YEAH CHARLIE!” Blushing crimson, Angela looked away in time to avoid a Bludger aimed at her and flew in hawk-shed formation with her team-mates as part of the strategy.

The commentator yelled “Ravenclaw Keeper Jones saves another attempt from Gryffindor! Five minutes to go for the match! Fingers crossed everyone!”

The formation broke apart and Angela floated a little watching Charlie’s progress. He looked down at her again this time and without warning dived straight at her with unimaginable acceleration.

“NO Charlie! NOT NOW! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” she screamed wildly.

He stretched out his hand as though to ask her for a dance mid-air… she had barely blinked when right before her eyes, he halted.

There was silence around the pitch. No comments came from the mega-phone. Charlie Weasley held Angela’s hand in mid-air, and a heart-beat later held up the fluttering Golden Snitch into the air with his other hand.

Pandemonium exploded in the air and the Gryffindors whooped, screamed and wolf-whistled.

As they touched the ground, Angela slapped Charlie on the back and whispered “See you this weekend Hogsmeade. Oh and keep your shirt on” she added significantly, watching the rest of the team yank Charlie’s robes, hair and possibly anywhere they could grab at him.

The Gryffindors won the Quidditch Cup again that night, seven years in a row… and henceforth, Charlie Weasley became a legend… for all the years to come.

***

Ginny sat by Ron’s bedside in his apartment and her tears flowed down her cheek silently. Hermione squeezed her hands in hers, and she leaned into her shoulders and cried. Harry meanwhile stood in the corner of the room, his face hidden by the shadows.

Ginny shook with pain, disbelief and rage… that one night… Charlie… she couldn’t believe it.

Ron was propped up on pillows, heavily bandaged and stared blankly at the ceiling. Downstairs in his apartment there were innumerable voices and the sound of a deep and loud lament. Ginny heard her mother wail inconsolably in the kitchen below. Hermione rubbed her back comfortingly as they sat together.

“Ron, y-you need to take your potion” Hermione said quivering and moved towards the dresser.

Ron turned to face her very slowly, his eyes empty of any emotion and gulped the ‘Blood-replenishing Potion’ that he was to keep taking every hour.

There was a pregnant silence in the room once more… no one moved or spoke until Harry suddenly sunk to his knees in the corner of the room onto the floor. For a couple of minutes no one disturbed the chill quiet of the air, and then Ginny got up walked up to him.

“Harry…” she whispered as he lowered his face further. She embraced him and felt his hot tears dampen her sleeve.

“Harry it’s not your fault” Ron said in a voice unlike his, “Ch-Charlie knew there was the risk… no one thinks it was your fault… you shouldn’t either”.

Hermione wiped her eyes vigorously. She got up abruptly and said, “We should eat. I’ll just go and get some soup, shall I?”

She walked down the stairs slowly and quietly made her way to the kitchen. Her heart cringed with pain and fear… she didn’t want to go down and face the others… especially Mrs. Weasley.

Charlie had died on the same mission she had been… Harry had watched him die… Ron had nearly been bitten by Greyback… Greyback had been killed… Theodore Nott and Goyle were captured… but Greyback’s death at Ron’s hands and the detainment of the two Death Eaters was being covered up by the Order to prevent suspicion in the Ministry…

The visions flashed in her mind as though she were watching a film. The past few moments had been so confused and rapid that her brain was in a blur. The red sparks had glimmered like death in the air… Order was contacted through Hermione’s enchanted coins… members at different locations flew back to headquarters… patronuses verified…bodies were brought and concealed… the dreadful message was sent…

Ever since she had arrived at Ron’s doorstep ten days ago, things had been anything but dull. And now… another member of the Order was gone… a Weasley was dead… she had never really realized how real this was… of how much jeopardy they were all in.

“Hermione, why’re you hiding there?” Tonks’ voice snapped Hermione out of her reverie.

“I-I just came down to take some dinner for the others upstairs” she replied, her tone deliberately steady.

Tonks looked at her sadly and said that she had picked some food from the Leaky Cauldron for everyone. Hermione followed her into the kitchen and predictably found Mrs. Weasley bawling in her husband’s trembling arms. Her fingers shuddered as she arranged a tray of radish soup and bread to take upstairs. She dropped a bowl and it clattered on the floor. Mr. Weasley looked up with a jolt. Apologizing almost automatically, Hermione cleaned the soup and walked up to Mrs. Weasley on the chair.

She knelt on the kitchen floor before her, took her hand in hers and said “M-Mrs. Weasley… I know a place where we can lay Charlie’s body at rest. It’s quiet and beautiful… not very expensive… my Grandmother was buried there. I’ll sponsor it for you… please d-don’t cry”.

Upstairs Harry sat still on the floor in Ron’s room… the soup that lay forgotten was getting cold in his hands. His eyes continued to prick at the corners and his heart was heavy. He looked up to see Hermione solemnly and patiently feeding Ron his soup. Ginny occasionally raised the wooden spoon and took a sip, from where she sat besides Ron. She paused only to wipe her stained face, staining it even more.

There was a poison spreading in Harry’s body. He wanted to throw himself off a tall building and put and end to everything. He wanted to disassociate himself from everyone… everything… run away from the world… it was much easier to run.

He wished he could stand in front of Voldemort and scream till his lungs exploded… wished that Voldemort would torture him till he lost his mind… till he died… till he saw his mother and father again.

Harry knew that the Weasleys would never condemn him for Charlie’s death. But it was his own conscience that would consume him, up until he would breathe his last.

This wasn’t over… it certainly wasn’t. In fact it was thickening every moment…

Harry could picture Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Lupin… all of them between him and Voldemort. He had tried to stop it… stop them…but he had failed. Charlie was dead… and there was absolutely nothing that Harry could do to make it up to them… nothing.

***

It was midnight the next day but Ron lay awake in his covers. He could still hear the howl of the werewolf in his mind… inhale the stench of blood.

His head ached with the memories that were raw and vivid, and on top of it was an unbearable feeling of loss… isolation and emptiness. He couldn’t sleep… hadn’t slept anyway for nights.

Moreover, the wound on his back refused to heal and he could feel the cuts stretch and sting as he moved.

Tossing off the bed sheet, Ron hastily dressed and threw on his traveling cloak. Taking a carefully measured dose of his potion, he clutched his wand and walked up to the door.

Sealing his apartment with protective charms, he apparated to make his way for the Burrow… on his way to reach home…

He arrived at the doorstep a moment later, knocked, and soon enough a light appeared. His father’s figure was illuminated against the backdoor. After a quick exchange of confirmative questions as was part of the Ministry procedure, Ron entered his old home, the burrow of memories.

“Ron are you alright? You shouldn’t be out this late” his father asked him, as he quietly sank into his favorite couch by the fire.

“Dad, when and where are we having Charlie’s funeral?” Ron asked quite plainly.

There was a short pause after which, Mr. Weasley gathered himself and answered “Montgomery Lane. There’s a cemetery there and your mother and I have decided to have it day after tomorrow. Hermione thought it would be a nice place and offered to sponsor it” he said, his voice heavy with pain and fatigue.

“Hermione offered to pay for Charlie’s funeral?” Ron asked loudly; in spite of himself “Dad… it’s mental. She shouldn’t have to do it… you’ve still got four earning sons”.

Mr. Weasley sat next to Ron. “You’re not counting Percy of course…”

Ron gave a non-committal grunt, “Does he even know about Charlie?”

Mr. Weasley chose not to reply to the insensitive question. Instead he said “I’ve had a talk with Hermione. We’re having a quiet, private affair and I’m employed myself. Molly and I will manage this ourselves, you needn’t worry”.

There was a hiatus as Ron observed his father’s weary face… the idea that had been in his mind all night suddenly protested loudly within him.

“Dad, Dwindle’s offered me a bonus of hundred Galleons for capturing Macnair. I want you to use the money for Charlie’s funeral and we’ll give him a great one… one that people won’t forget too easily” Ron said steady and determined. When Mr. Weasley opened his mouth to protest, Ron interrupted him “Dad, Charlie would have done the same for me… and we’re all a family. I just need to do my bit… I need to do this for him…”

Charlie Weasley’s funeral was needless to say, a splendid and somber affair.

Besides Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys, Hagrid and the Hogwarts staff was present as well. As were all of Charlie’s friends and colleagues from work, seniors and juniors… the old Gryffindor Quidditch team… Angela Haynes… and they all raised their glasses to him.

They applauded and eulogized his courage, talent and spirit. Charlie Weasley had died a hero.

And Mrs. Weasley wiped tears from her face, not those of sorrow, but of love and celebration. It wasn’t the end… but a whole new beginning. As she bade her final goodbye to her darling son, the apple of her eye… she squeezed the hands of a son whom she had reclaimed… who had actually returned…one that she thought had left them forever.

Percy Weasley stood beside her, his hands clasped with prayer and respect for his elder brother. He walked up to the grave and lay down the Golden Snitch on the freshly dug soil. As he turned around, he faced his family once more… some of those faces accepted him while some were not so forgiving. Nevertheless, it was in their grief that they were finally reunited…

Read CHAPTER 10- The Lull after the Storm here