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Amoris Infinitas by Persephone Lupin [Reviews - 4]

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Chapter 12: Aftermath


Only now did Harry become aware of people running up the hill, calling his name.

“Harry! You’re alive!” shouted a breathless Ginny, who flung herself into his arms, sobbing unrestrainedly.

More people came – Remus Lupin, supporting his limping wife; the twins; Mad-Eye Moody; Ron and Hermione running at him and almost toppling him over in their attempt to hug him and Ginny senseless ... They all looked bruised and singed and worn-out from the fight, but they were alive and not seriously hurt.

“Wow, Harry, that was the most bloody brilliant fireworks –”

“– we have ever seen in our lives,” congratulated Fred and George in unison, clapping him on the shoulder.

“‘e iz relly gone, Voldemort, iz ‘e?” asked Fleur, whose silvery-white dress was torn and splattered with blood, although judging from the graceful way she moved, it couldn’t be hers, at least not all of it.

Harry nodded dazedly. It was true. Voldemort was gone. Truly gone. Once and for all. He had done it ...

“And look whom we’ve got here,” came a triumphant voice from behind him. “The traitor. Congratulations, Harry, two at one blow.” Alastor Moody had levitated the dead Hippogriff off the cloaked figure that lay sprawled on the ground and was now inspecting the body. “Damn, Lupin,” he suddenly muttered to the wizard standing beside him, “I think there’s still some life in the bloody bastard. Shall we finish him off?” He pointed his wand at the unconscious man, his magical eye rolling back and forth angrily.

Lupin looked down at the prostrate form of his once-classmate. Moody was right, the man was still alive, his chest rising almost imperceptibly and at irregular intervals. A wave of hatred washed through the werewolf, effectively drowning any spark of pity. I trusted you once, Lupin thought, clenching his fists with utmost loathing. How he had longed to get his hands around Snape’s neck all those last months. And the Ministry openly condoned the execution of traitors. However – “No, Moody,” he said grimly, having made up his mind. “I want to see him in court. And then it’s the Dementor’s Kiss. And good riddance.”

“You sure?” said Moody, sounding somewhat disappointed. “Then you better make sure he doesn’t snuff it here and now. Doesn’t look too good to me.” As if to prove his statement, Moody kicked Snape in the ribs. No reaction. He swung back his foot to try again when suddenly he was thrown off balance and pinned to the ground by invisible hands.

“Leave him be,” gritted Harry through his teeth, his wand trained on the old Auror. “You touch him again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Harry, calm down. The fight is over.” Lupin stepped forward, his hands held in a pacifying gesture. But Harry ignored him. Pushing his former professor out of his way, he strode over to where Snape lay and crouched down at his side, oblivious to Moody’s grumblings and the others’ stares. Snape was breathing, that was all that counted at the moment.

“We must get him to St. Mungo’s.” Harry looked up at Lupin pleadingly. “The snakes ... the snakes bit him, and I’m sure there are more injuries. Please, Remus. He must not die!”

Bewildered, Lupin stared at Harry, who was starting to sob quietly while he gently brushed a strand of blood-matted, greasy hair from Snape’s deathly pale brow. “Remus, please ...”

Lupin nodded. “OK, Harry. You get some rest; you must still be in shock,” he said, half turning to Molly Weasley, who had arrived on the scene, “and I’ll take care of Severus.” Reluctantly, Harry rose to his feet and made room for Remus to kneel down beside Snape. Lupin carefully hoisted the dying man into his arms and Disapparated with a soft ‘pop’.


***********************************************


The Burrow was in a terrible state, inside as well as outside. All the benches and tables were turned over, some of them burnt and shredded. Broken plates and glasses, and ripped-off garlands and lanterns were strewn all over the lawn that was so riddled with curse-holes that it looked like nothing so much as a Swiss cheese. Inside, it wasn’t any better. Most of the furniture was damaged and singed, the windows smashed, and the doors unhinged or blasted away, as were some walls.

Arthur Weasley was staring at the ruins of his home, a thick bandage around his head. A curse had hit him right in the beginning of the battle, and he had been unconscious through most of it. In the general confusion, nobody had realised that with Mr Weasley out cold, the Aurors would not be alerted. It was Ginny who eventually became aware of the calamity and brought the Aurors in. The battle had fired up dramatically, and soon, the Death Eaters were outnumbered. When suddenly the fireworks appeared above the hill, there were only a few of Voldemort’s followers still on their feet. Filled with dread and foreboding, they made off at a run, chased by determined Aurors. They would not let anybody escape ...

“Come, Arthur,” said Molly gently as she came back from the hill with Harry and the others in tow. “It’s over. Let’s get inside and find a place to sit. And I’ll try to make some tea. It’s nothing we can’t clean up and repair.”

Arthur nodded, giving her and Harry a small smile. Molly was right, as always. The damage to the house could be repaired. What was far more important was that all of his family – and that included Harry and Hermione as well – were alive and Voldemort was gone. Only Percy would have to stay at St Mungo’s for a few days after having been under the Imperius Curse for months. McGonagall, too, had ended up in hospital, as had a few others, but all in all, there had been few casualties on their side. It could have been far worse. Mr Weasley glanced at the shrouded figures arranged along one side of the house. Auror Dawlish was dead, as were Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge from the Order, and several Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange among them. She had killed herself before she could be arrested.

Following the others, Mr Weasley entered the house.

Shortly afterwards they were sitting around the fireplace, drinking tea and hot cocoa. Together they had made makeshift repairs to the kitchen, while the Aurors had transported the captured Death Eaters off to Azkaban, and now the room was almost inhabitable again. Harry was very silent, and although the others were eager to hear what had happened on the hill, they did not push him. They were just glad they all had survived. Almost all ...

From the edge of the forest the wind carried a faint howling to their ears. Hagrid was wailing for his dead Hippogriff.



TBC

Amoris Infinitas by Persephone Lupin [Reviews - 4]

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