(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 342: The Morning That Follows

Chapter 342: The Morning That Follows

1 November 1995, Hogwarts (Earth 2)

He didn’t have time to process the magnitude of Harrold’s message—not fully. Save Dumbledore or not. The more logical choice was to save the man, and yet something niggled in his head. Of course, that was when Dumbledore sent a Patronus to everyone to gather for an order meeting.

Sirius spent a bit more time than he expected in the Order meeting room, waiting for the other members to arrive. He barely noticed the passage of time, as he pondered on his choice. The difficult part was over. Voldemort was dead and Harrold had left. He was strangely sad about the latter. He had grown to love the young man, his godson’s counterpart. There was a cleverness to him, a sense of assuredness that reminded him strangely of his own grandfather Arcturus.

Merlin’s beard, he hadn’t thought about the man for years. He had died a few months after Sirius ran away from home, right after his wife perished after years of fighting dragon pox. He wasn’t even allowed to come to the funeral, even if he wasn’t particularly close to the man. His mother feared him and tried to limit their contact. But from the few days he got to experience with the man, he was scary and pretty expectant of his descendants. He was probably the only Black he knew who had a proper sense of humour.

Harrold reminded Sirius of the man. He was terrifyingly intelligent, had everything planned to every minute detail, and had a dry sense of humour that he only showed Sirius after they got comfortable with each other. Harrold played everyone like a fiddle, including bloody Voldemort himself, and that alone made him worth the friendship they built. He kept his promise; Harry was safe now. Voldemort and all his most powerful death eaters were dead. It was a massacre on a scale that Sirius had never seen before, an entire faction wiped out on a single night.

And yet, something still niggled in his mind. Why didn’t Harrold just heal Dumbledore? If this really was an innocent mistake, then he would have just removed the curse himself. And if Dumbledore happened to be some hidden monster, then he wouldn’t have given him the option to even save him. In the months since they met, Sirius had gotten a good picture of Harry. The young man would have killed Dumbledore if he was a threat, without even caring about anyone’s opinion. That was how Harrold was.

So, why give him the option? Sure, Harrold might have been biased when it came to Dumbledore, but there had to be another way. At least, he didn’t let Harry choose. That would have made Sirius mad; the boy had just gone through enough, especially sitting there and waiting for a killing curse to hit him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, that he didn’t notice Moony shake him slightly, “Oh, hey, Moony!”

Sirius turned and saw that almost everyone was there and had taken a seat. They were only waiting for Dumbledore to arrive.

The werewolf tilted his head with a worried expression on his face, “Are you alright, Sirius? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so focused. Ever.”

“Very funny. It’s been a while, mate. I have some butterbeer in the fridge if you want to hang out later. It’s the good stuff. With the kids in Hogwarts, Molly finally stopped yelling at me whenever I put some alcohol in there.”

Remus snorted at that, “You did have it coming. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that it was my fridge and that maybe the kids deserved a couple of nights of fun.”

“Well, you certainly made an impression. I didn’t know Molly could turn that red without some kind of magic. So, why do you think Dumbledore called us here?”

Sirius shrugged, “If I had to guess, it would be the fact that Voldemort and most of his Death Eaters were found dead in Azkaban.”

Lupin choked, “What?”

“I know. I had the same reaction this morning,” Sirius replied while tossing him an issue of the Daily Prophet.

He watched, suppressing the urge to burst into laughter, as Remus’ eyes got wider and wider the more, he read the article, until he mumbled, “Greyback’s dead.”

“Yeah, so are most of his captains and Voldemort’s entire inner circle. And well, Voldemort too.”

That seemed to be the exact time Dumbledore showed up. He entered the room with an intense look on his face, and sat down, “Good morning, everyone.”

The murmurs in the room died down instantly as Dumbledore raised a hand. “Thank you all for coming,” he began, his voice carrying a weight that drew everyone's attention. "We are here to discuss the article in today’s Daily Prophet. As many of you have read, last night, there was a disturbance in Azkaban.”

"Is it true, then?" Kingsley asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence. "Did... Voldemort really die?"

Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands on the table. “Let me explain. Late last night, a surge of magic from Azkaban alerted both the Department of Mysteries and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. When they arrived, they found the prison in chaos. The Dementors had vanished without a trace, leaving the place... eerily empty.”

Gasps rippled through the room, but Dumbledore pressed on. “More concerning, the maximum-security wing—the one housing the highest-ranking Death Eaters—was destroyed, almost as if by Fiendfyre. They found the remains of many Death Eaters, some were inmates, but many were people who were found innocent under the Imperius defence after the first war."

"They wanted to break out the rest of his inner circle?" Moody growled, his magical eye spinning wildly.

"It would make sense," Dumbledore replied gravely. “However, this entire situation makes me feel nervous. The DMLE is still working on identifying every victim and will continue investigating the scene. Even the Department of Mysteries have agreed to lend their hands, but they’re having trouble using their time-turners to get past the magical surge. However, this did confirm that whatever that magical surge was, it happened after the massacre occurred.”

"And... Voldemort?" Tonks asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Dumbledore nodded. "The body of a man bearing a striking resemblance to Lord Voldemort was found impaled and chained on top of the fortress. The DMLE is running every test they can, and so far, the bodies, including his, appear real—at least as far as their scans can tell.”

"Is he really dead?" Bill Weasley asked, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “Could it be over?”

Dumbledore’s expression darkened. “I fear it is not,” he said slowly. "Though this appears to be Voldemort's body, we must remember that the prophecy foretold that only Harry could defeat him. That has not yet happened, and until it does, we cannot assume that Voldemort is truly gone."

Sirius, leaning forward, snapped, “So you’re saying he might still be out there? Do you have any proof beyond a prophecy, Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore met his gaze. “The prophecy is not to be taken lightly, Sirius. It has guided us through these dark times. Until Harry has fulfilled his role, fate will not be so easily thwarted.”

“Then he’s not dead,” Remus said quietly. “No matter what the Prophet says.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes sweeping across the room. “It is impossible to stop fate, especially when prophecies are involved. We must prepare for what comes next.”

Sirius couldn’t believe it. Was Dumbledore really not going to address this? “You’re joking, right? Voldemort’s body was found dead by everyone and you’re not even considering the fact that he might be dead.”

“I hope he is dead, my boy,” Dumbledore replied, “But I don’t find it likely that luck was so much on our side. We already got extremely lucky fourteen years ago, when his curse rebounded on him. I do not think we can afford to rely on luck once more.”

Everyone agreed and Sirius was getting frustrated. It might be because he knew for a fact that Voldemort was dead, that they were free of the monster forever. It might be because he knew how the dark lord cheated death and knew that his Horcruxes were destroyed. But this entire meeting was rubbing him the wrong way. He was going to blow up at him, only for the unexpected to happen.

However, of all the people who spoke up for him, Snivellius wouldn’t have made the list in a thousand years. However, the potion master of all people spoke up, “The dark mark is gone. It was burned off yesterday, in the middle of the night. I knew that there was a raid last night and I was told that I was to be called in afterwards with dozens of healing and nutrition potions ready, yet I was not summoned. The Dark Lord might have perished. Even after Godric’s Hollows, the mark had simply faded but was not fully gone. Not, like it is now. As much as I hate to admit it, Black might have a point. The Dark Lord might be dead.”

Dumbledore gave the man a dirty look, “I have had the misfortune of assuming that Lord Voldemort made mistakes in the past and I have paid heavy prices for those assumptions. This could very easily be a trap, a way for Voldemort to get us to lower our guard, making us think that he is dead, that his followers are gone, only to take us all out at once. This might be a trap, not for the ministry, but for us, for the Order of the Phoenix. Another proof of this is the disappearance of Harrold Smith.”

Wait what? Almost all order members were looking around in confusion, but a few had incredulous looks on their faces, “Harry’s friend in school?”

“Yes, a new student. He also happened to be a very powerful seer. He was hoping to run away from the conflict that he predicted would start in June, by moving to France. He was an extremely hesitant young man, but I was able to get him to open up about a few of his prophecies, which greatly aided me when it came to anticipating Voldemort’s movements. However, yesterday was the last time the boy was seen by his classmates and my attempts to find him were very unsuccessful. This brings us to two possibilities, either the boy ran away, knowing that something bad was coming, or he was taken by someone who knew of his abilities and was powerful enough and knowledgeable enough to kidnap him from Hogwarts itself. There is no reason for him to give up on his OWLS, which he needed to be accepted as a citizen in magical France.”

It was a very nicely constructed argument. It was completely wrong but pretty logical. Harrold was a seer, but getting his OWLS was just his pretence to be in Hogwarts to make sure that everything went according to plan. He had no plans on actually staying until the end of the year, and that alone brought down Dumbledore’s arguments in seconds.

He could see everyone slowly starting to be convinced.

Unfortunately for Dumbledore, Sirius wasn’t having it, “You’re telling us that because some teenager disappeared, that Voldemort is still alive. We’re talking about a teenager. They’re not exactly the most stable bunch. I ran away from home when I was around his age and Voldemort attacked Diagon Alley right after. That doesn’t mean I was some kind of seer. You need to accept that we might just be that lucky, Albus. Someone might have killed Voldemort, or he got himself killed in some kind of ritual.”

“Voldemort is still alive,” Dumbledore retorted loudly, his magic slowly suffocating the room, “He’s still out there and I will refuse to even entertain the possibility of him dying until I have personally seen Harry Potter slay him himself.”

“You’re serious about that, aren’t you?” Sirius asked, feeling his breath leave him at the realization.

“The prophecy is very clear. My main purpose is to prepare young Harry for that confrontation and perhaps even weaken Voldemort beforehand. Harry Potter must strike the final blow. Fate has mandated so.”

Sirius nodded and the magical pressure lessened, and the rest of the meeting was barely more than a haze. He understood now why Harrold left it up to him. Harry’s safety was his responsibility. Sirius had promised James and Lily that he would protect him. He would have fought Voldemort to save him and sacrificed his life for him. But that was easy, that was what he expected. He never thought that he would ever need to betray the trust of a man he genuinely respected to make sure that his godson was safe.

He couldn’t let Dumbledore keep pushing Harry to become the martyr he was building him up to be. He couldn’t let the man influence him, making his life revolve around Voldemort once more, especially since the dark lord was dead. As long as Dumbledore lived, he would meddle in Harry’s life, and push him to become the saviour he wanted him to be.

After the meeting was over, Sirius took out the piece of parchment that held the counter curse to the one Dumbledore was suffering from and burned it with a flick of his wand.

He would protect Harry from everyone, light and dark alike. It was his duty as his godfather.

AN: I know that some of you are excited to get back to Harry, and I was planning to next chapter. However, this one kinda got away from me a bit. I promise the next chapter will be the final epilogue for this arc and we'll go back to the EM Harry. Anyway, I sort of wanted to portray Dumbledore as obsessive over the prophecy and Sirius realizing that he'll never leave his godson alone. I hope I pulled it off and that the chapter came out like I wanted it to. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.