Search Home Read Write Forum Login Register
Clover didn’t come back that night…or the next. Needless to say, Christmas was a sorry affair. In fact, we didn’t even really attempt it at all. Clover would have just about died seeing us sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves while she was out ridding the world of all its evil. Sirius and I considered this briefly amongst ourselves before dismissing the thought to continue on with our brooding.

Later Christmas Day, Sirius received a rather disturbing owl claiming that Peter knew nothing of the Dark Lord’s beckoning. Almost immediately after, Sirius got word that Regulus knew a little more than nothing as he had gone immediately to be with his leader.

The three of us are currently sitting around in the formal room contemplating the grey storm cloud that seemed to constantly follow all of us around wherever we went. “I don’t quite understand why she absolutely had to go,” Sirius says miming what each of us are thinking precisely.

James considers this. “Well,” he says carefully, “she was just trying to do her job wasn’t she?”

Sirius bristles immediately. “Her job did not include bodily harm or…” he trails off without finishing.

I discover it’s my turn to speak. “What exactly happened Sirius, when she left?” I’ve been wondering that since the moment I learned of her disappearance.

He shrugged, “I walked into the kitchen and she was holding a piece of parchment and she said, ‘I have to go now Sirius,’ and, here’s the shocker, she went.”

I accept this answer and choose to ignore the sarcasm.

“Why are we all so uptight about this men?” James asks after a moment. “She’s come back every other time hasn’t she?”

Sirius and I look at each other with mutual understanding. “James, it’s like this every time she goes – she says goodbye, she’s gone for a few days, and she comes back. Sure, we worry about her while she’s gone, but I have absolutely never felt like she’s not coming back. This time…it just has a different feel to it is all,” I finish lamely, but Sirius nods like a punctuation point to my ending.

“Oh,” James says grimly. His mouth is set in a straight line with no hint of a smile in sight. Odd, I think. That’s the first time in a long time I’ve seen that.

“Well what shall we do then?” he asks.

Sirius slumps deeper in the burgundy winged armchair he’s sitting in. He looks so sad and pathetic it almost makes me want to slap him for being so ridiculously hopeless. And that, is the spark that gets me to my feet.

“We’ve got to go see Dumbledore,” I say determinedly and Disapparate right then, not even staying to see if the others intend to follow. For the first time in my life, I am clearly the leader. It scares the shit out of me, especially when something so precious is on the line. 

I end up on the boundary of Hogwarts. I had stupidly envisioned the Headmaster’s office in my mind, but clearly, I was…well, being stupid. I begin the trek up to the castle and it strikes me suddenly that I may have not completely thought this through. How do I intend to enter the castle? No outsider has managed to do it, ever, and here I think I’ll be able to? I actually laugh out loud.

Amazingly enough, the others opted not to follow me. Perhaps there intelligence preceded their actions unlike mine, which seemed to have failed me at a very inopportune moment. For some reason, my feet continue on carrying me to the big wooden double doors.

Which open.


I scurry through them for I don’t intend to give them the option of second guessing themselves and reach the eagle in front of the Headmaster’s office.

“Pumpkin pasty,” I attempt. Miracle of miracles the eagle starts to swivel. I make a mental note not to attack my intelligence prematurely any longer.

“Remus Lupin,” a booming voice sounds above me.

“Er,” I answer. I continue taking the steps one by one until I finally reach the voice that belongs to of course, Dumbledore.

We stare at each other for a few seconds. Actually, he more or less seems to be considering my worth right then and there, whereas I seem to momentarily be at a loss for words.

“Clover’s in trouble,” I blurt out.

His eyes burn like coals at my words. “Sit down,” he commands. I do.

He remains standing but leans against his rather large desk completely covered with whirligigs and parchment. “I know she is,” he says rather sadly. “I don’t know how you know, and I don’t really want to know although I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation-”

“There isn’t,” I interrupt.

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. The thing of the thing is that Clover seems to have gotten herself in a spot of trouble. I have reason to believe that Voldemort has begun to suspect Clover for what she is. No surprise there as he is quite clever these days.”

I want to scoff at him. Loudly. He does not seem to be taking this very seriously at all.

“I’m taking this very seriously,” he says eyeing me carefully making me feel about as big as a skrewt. “I’ve alerted the Aurors and they’re doing their best to get her out of there.”

“But why did she go?” I question.

“What choice did she have? She was damned if she did, damned if she didn’t wasn’t she?” I hope this is a rhetorical question because I don’t answer.

“Go home now,” he says quietly. “Stay where you are when you get there. I can’t be sending Aurors off in every direction tonight now can I?”

I consider this. “Um…no.”

“Okay then,” Dumbledore chimes, smiling half-heartedly.

“Okay then,” I mirror and leave going precisely the way I came and having accomplished nearly nothing.

“What?” Sirius shouted. “She is in trouble then? She could be in pain this very moment!”

I wave a hand vaguely in answer. I’m holding my snow globe in my right palm and shaking it every so often. So far, it hasn’t snowed. I find it curious that out of context that sounds as if I’m talking casually about the weather but really, I’m talking about Clover’s life.

“We’ve got to go!” he continues to bark.

“Dumbledore said to stay here,” I say calmly. I watch as the last bit of snow falls to the bottom of the globe sadly and pensively. So much is held in that tiny little grain, and yet, in the end, it is just a grain. What could such a small piece of the world accomplish?

I peer at it a single moment longer. I look up at the expectant faces of my friends – just two faces in a sea of faces.

“Alright,” I say. “Let’s go.”

Track This Story: Feed

Write a Review

out of 10


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!