Shattered Memories

Harry and the others were sitting in the Drawing Room. They were all thinking about what they had just heard and were waiting for someone to speak. The grandfather clock in the corner was the only noise, the slow ticking of time passing the only sound daring to break the silence. Ron and Ginny were sitting on the moth-eaten sofa across from him, both watching Harry with pale faces. He was staring into the fire, watching the flickering flames with a full mind.

Harry had known Azkaban would be attacked eventually, but now that it had finally happened, it didn't seem real. This was the first major, public attack since Voldemort had been brought back, and now the whole Wizarding world knew. And they couldn't ignore it. Cornelius Fudge could no longer say Harry and Dumbledore were just trying to take over the Ministry. He now had a whole community of scared witches and wizards on his hands, all frightened that Voldemort was going to kill them while they slept.

The ringing of the doorbell drew Harry's attention. He tensed as footsteps could be heard heading to the front door and the many locks slipped open. Harry quickly jumped up and ran to the door, pulling it open and looking down, over the banister.

It looked as if an emergency Order meeting had been called, as he could see many familiar faces spilling onto the landing. He could even make out the bright pink hair of Tonks and the many redheads of the Weasley's. Ron and Ginny soon joined him, and the three of them watched as more and more Order Members walked through the tall black doors and disappeared down to the kitchen. Soon, the landing was left clear and Harry, Ron and Ginny returned to the Drawing Room.

"I wonder what actually happened." Ginny said as she curled up in an armchair.

Harry nodded, "Me two. I hope no one died," he said sitting down next to Ron on the couch.

"What else did you over hear?" Ron asked his sister.

"Nothing, they just said that You-Know-Who attacked Azkaban and all the prisoners escaped!" She said, sighing.

Harry groaned loudly. "What's wrong?" Ron asked quickly, probably thinking it was his scar again.

"That means all the Death Eaters we helped capture last year in the Ministry escaped!" He said, punching the armrest.

"Oh no, Malfoy!" Ginny said in anguish.

"Imagine what the little prat is going to be like this year. I told you, you would be dead, Potter!'" Harry said in a perfect imitation of Draco Malfoy's drawl. Ginny chuckled slightly.

"I hope they tell us soon," she said.

"Knowing Dumbledore, he probably wouldn't tell us at all!" Harry said angrily, hating the old man for keeping so many things from him.

"What's got you so angry at Dumbledore?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Yeah, it's as if he betrayed you or something. You've been like it for ages!" Ron finished, looking at Harry quizzically.

Harry sighed, "He did, in a way..." He mumbled, staring back into the fire.

"How? What did he do?" Ginny asked again. Harry shook his head.

"It's nothing; you don't need to know..." He said, trying to make them forget it, but they wouldn't.

"So we don't need to know nothing?" Ginny said, raining a thin, red eyebrow. "Maybe we do need to know something?"

Harry groaned and murmured, "Forget it!"

"Forget what?" Ron said, following Ginny's lead.

"Nothing. Can we just talk about something else? Hermione will be here tomorrow, who wants to bet that the first thing she says will be about OWLs or studying?" He said, trying to change the subject. Ron and Ginny glanced at each other but let lay the topic Harry definitely didn't want to talk about.

"She'll say something like: Oh, have you two received you OWL results yet? Or: This year is going to be really hard, I think we should start studying for NEWTs right now!" Harry and Ginny laughed as Ron grinned goofily, while Harry sighed in relief that his friends didn't keep pushing about his riff with Dumbledore.

It's not as if he didn't want them to know, but he hadn't really come to accept it yet. The prophecy had changed his outlook on life now and the more he thought of the prospect of his killing someone, it made him sick. He did not even think he could kill someone whose soul was as tainted as Voldemort's.

The words ran through his head like a fast moving stream; the prophecy the water, drowning him slowly and painfully. It all made sense now. Why Voldemort went after him as a child, why Neville's parents were tortured and the boy was left to grow up alone. Why so many people were killed and families destroyed. Why Harry was forced to live with his relative's, each summer like a prison sentence and Hogwarts his only parole. And why he had been targeted by the Dark Lord for so long, why he was always the one in the midst of the danger. It was all because of the prophecy: five phrases condemning Harry to a life of death and pain.

OoOoO

The rest of the day was spent moping around the house, playing a few games of chess or Exploding Snap or reading up on a few of their school books. And still the meeting led on. It was nearing six o'clock when the kitchen door swung open and the Order members began to slowly trudge back up the stairs, across the hallway and to the front door; not knowing that they were being watched by three teenagers.

Harry sat on the landing between the first and second floors, watching everyone disappear into the fading daylight. Tonks spotted him and gave him a small smile, tapping her nose as it changed into a small, pig-like snout. He smiled at her and waved as she left the house. She was the only one that gave him a second glance, although Severus Snape caught his eye and sneered briefly, before wrapping his cloak about him and walking out the door.

Mr and Mrs Weasley decided to stay, as Arthur had finished work and Molly had collected everything she needed from the Burrow. Once the door shut for the last time that night, Harry quickly clambered down to the landing, passing the burnt wall and followed the stairs to the kitchen, Ron and Ginny at his heels.

Remus was sitting at the other end of the room with Albus Dumbledore, both talking quickly as Arthur listened on, a grave look on his face. Molly Weasley was at the stove, already having dinner on. Remus looked up when Harry entered and his brow furrowed when he caught the look on his face. Dumbledore looked up as well and a light twinkle graced his clear eyes.

"Hello Harry, dear." Mrs Weasley said, putting down her wooden spoon, walking over to him and giving him a tight motherly hug. She did the same to her children and was soon back at the sink, with the potatoes peeling themselves.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said, quickly placing a piece of parchment into his robes, but not before Harry spotted it.

"Hi, sir." Harry greeted, sitting down a few seats while Ron sat next to him and Ginny on the other side of the table.

"We actually have some rather bad news, Harry," Remus said wearily, running a scarred hand through his hair.

Harry nodded and said, "We already know." All the adults looked at him as if he had grown another head.

"You - you already know?" Remus stammered, looking to Dumbledore for support. But the old headmaster was smiling, with his trademark twinkle hidden behind his glasses.

"And how, may I ask, do you three know about this exclusive information?" Mrs Weasley said, her temper rising. Both Ginny and Ron cowered at the look she was giving them, but Harry only shrugged.

"We have our ways," was his cryptic answer, giving Dumbledore a sly glance. Ron gave him an awestruck look, as if he was the bravest person he knew to stand up to his mother. Both Mrs Weasley and Remus were staring at him crossly, while Dumbledore looked slightly amused and Mr Weasley had a small smile on his lips.

"And what have you learnt, using your ways?" Remus asked clearly, raising an eyebrow.

"That Azkaban was attacked and all the prisoners escaped," Harry answered.

"Well, you don't know all the facts then," Lupin then said, placing a hand on his head to sweep back his scraggy hair.

"Did anyone get hurt or killed?" Harry asked quickly, hoping the answer was no. But by the looks on their faces, he soon realised his answer.

"Four Aurors were killed and two Death Eaters. One of the Aurors was apart of the Order, a new member, Allison Morgan. She was a good person, and had a husband and child. She shouldn't have died." Remus said shakily, sighing as if in defeat.

"Who were the death eaters?" He said. It seemed so unfair that only two death eaters were killed and to the four Aurors.

"Jugson, Macnair and two new recruits, Jonathon Smith and Wilson Taylor. They had a whole party with them as well, around thirty and came upon them by boat. The guards didn't even know they were there and didn't have enough time to sound the alarms. It was more like a slaughter. Frank Dermbridge was only stationed there for today because one of the guards called in sick. He had his own family, three kids and a wife."

Harry was completely shocked and sickened at the news. That was four more families destroyed because of Voldemort, four more than there should have been. He felt so angry at the moment that the room temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, a fact that all of them noticed. But before they could try to calm him down, Mrs Weasley shoved a plate of sausages and mashed potato on the table in front of him, and said, "Eat."

Harry nodded and immediately felt his anger subside, although his scar began to throb, faintly but it grew to be annoying. They ate the dinner in silence, with Dumbledore leaving halfway through, saying he needed to get to the Ministry and file a few reports. Remus walked him to the front door, where Harry could hear there their hushed conversation from his spot at the table.

It was nearing eight o'clock when they headed back upstairs, with their minds full of the days events and stomachs full of Mrs Weasley's delicious food. Harry and Ron wished Ginny goodnight at the first floor and continued up to their own room. When they entered, Harry sniffed the air and almost gagged.

"Merlin," Ron said nasally, pinching his nose, "It smells like something's died in here!" And Harry agreed with him. The two entered cautiously, Harry keeping a tight hold of his shirt against his mouth and nose. Harry quickly lit one of the gas lamps to illuminate the dark room. Books and closed lay strewn across the floor, as well as sheets of parchment and old chess pieces. Ron's face was oddly pale against the soft orange light, and he was looking at each corner closely as if he would find a rotting corpse.

Harry crosses to the window on the other side of the room, and swiftly opened it, relishing in the cool night air. Now was the mission to find out where the smell was coming from. Ron started to look under his bed, a fearful look on his face, while Harry did the same to his. But all that was under his was a couple of socks and an old bag or Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. He straightened up and shrugged to Ron who was staring at the wardrobe with wide eyes. Harry looked to it as well, and started for it, before Ron made a strange noise and moved towards him, holding up a rolled-up newspaper. Harry laughed from under his shirt and motioned for him to follow.

He stood before the old wardrobe, with Ron over his shoulder, holding the paper up like a dagger. Harry rolled his eyes at him, adjusted his shirt and reached for the rusted doorknob. As soon as he turned it and the rickety door opened a crack, both of them knew that this was where the smell originated. Harry gagged on the strong odour of decay while Ron actually got rid of his dinner on the floor beside Harry's bed.

Harry clamped his hand tightly over his mouth, his breathing hollow and rugger as he attempted not to breathe in any of the rotten air. He moved closer to the door and with one swift movement, pulled it open and jumped back as something rolled out after him. Harry had not gotten a good look at it as he tripped over Ron's hunched form and landed with a painful thump on the floor. Luckily, though, he missed Ron's regurgitated dinner by a few feet and still managed to climb to his feet as his friend threw up once more.

Harry through a disgusted look at Ron, who shook his head weakly, clamping a hand over his nose and mouth. Shanking his head, Harry turned back around to see what had fallen from the wardrobe. At first, he thought it was an old, shrivelled, rubber bag, but on closer inspection, he discovered it had odd attachments that greatly resembled arms. He took a step closer as the smell grew more intense, and he finally realized that it as not an old bag, but was once a living thing.

And as he leaned a little closer, Harry discovered, with a sudden lurch of his stomach, that the thing was wearing what looked to be a mouldy loincloth and was clasping, with incredibly thin bone-like fingers, an old photograph of the late Mrs Black.

"Kreacher..." Harry said loudly although it came out as a muffled shout, to Ron, who looked up from his mess on the floor to Harry then at the dead house-elf, before depositing more of his dinner onto the floor. Harry climbed to his feet, struggling against the urge to throw up, and scrambled from the room, down the stairs into the kitchen. Remus and Mrs Weasley looked up at him with startled gazes, before taking in his sweaty and pale face.

"What happened?" Remus said quickly, his voice strong and caring. Harry shook his head, gulping down the cool, clean air of the kitchen.

"In my room - Kreacher - Ron!" Harry managed to blurt out as Mrs Weasley's face went pale and Remus's grew angry.

"What has that little mongrel done now?" Lupin snarled angrily, following Mrs Weasley quickly from the room. Harry stayed in the kitchen for a few moments longer, enjoying the feel of fresh oxygen in his lungs, before running back out after his old professor. He caught up with them just as they entered his and Ron's room. Harry took a deep breath and covered his mouth as he followed them in.

"Sweet Merlin!" Remus said loudly, immediately putting his hands over his face. Mrs Weasley stifled a cry and pulled her apron up to her mouth, moving over towards a green Ron. Harry glanced at them before watching Lupin move towards the wrinkled form of Kreacher, dead and rotting, on their bedroom floor.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Lupin said, gagging slightly as he gushed out the words. The house-elf rose off the floor, its lifeless limbs flopping down passed its sides and the photo frame falling, to smash upon the ground. Once Lupin had levitated the dead creature from the room, the smell immediately decreased in strength, but it was still present and just as foul.

"Scourgify!" Mrs Weasley said as Ron's mess cleared away. Ron was still looking pale but most of the green had vanished, leaving him looking peaky. Lupin returned a few moments later, a grim but satisfied look on his face. Soon, both Mrs Weasley and Lupin had their wands out and were blowing the smell out the window, using a strong wind from their wands. About half an hour later, the odour was completely gone, although Ron swore he could still smell it.

Harry changed quickly and lay down on his bed, wondering what Lupin did with Kreacher's rotting corpse. He briefly hoped he had fed him to Buckbeak, before thinking that it would probably poison the poor Hippogriff...

OoOoO

Harry awoke in the morning to a clear day and a smile on his face. Hermione would be returning that day, and he would finally be able to do something other than play chess all day. It seemed that all three of them, especially Ginny, were looking forward to having her back. Ginny had been stuck with just the boys for two weeks and she was desperately seeking female company. And Harry discovered, with humour, that Ron seemed to be very happy she was returning. Of course, he wouldn't confess this to Harry, saying he was just glad Kreacher was dead.

The next morning at breakfast was a very joyful one. The death of Kreacher seemed to lighten both Harry and Lupin's moods, and that made everyone happy for some reason. The attack on Azkaban still hung in the air but there was nothing they could do at the moment so it was best to enjoy the time they had.

Most of the Weasley's were home today, because it was the weekend, except the twins and Bill, who were working in Diagon Alley. Apparently, Fred and George's shop was a big success, and they had already made a small fortune. They were very close to running Zonko's in Hogsmeade, out of business, and they seemed very ecstatic about this fact. They were planning on opening up another shop in Hogsmeade, to be closer to Hogwarts during the year when they were allowed in the village.

At around eleven, the doorbell rang. Harry and the others quickly raced up to the stairs and opened the door. Hermione squealed and dropped her things, jumping inside and wrapping Harry in a tight hug. He smiled and told her he actually had to breathe. She let go of him, grinning madly, and gave both Ron and Ginny the same hugs. Ron's face was left bright red when Hermione let go of him, a fact Harry smirked at.

"Oh, Harry, are you okay?" She asked, as soon as she had brought her stuff inside. Harry nodded and said, "I'm fine, Hermione, you're looking good." She had been on vacation with her parents and was now supporting a light tan and her hair had been straightened again. She smiled at him and said. "You think?"

"Definitely!" Ron answered, immediately realising what he said and went beet red. Hermione went slightly pink and allowed Harry to help her with her things upstairs. Once they were back in the kitchen, they filled Hermione on in what had happened so far. She laughed, winced and gasped in all the right places and was left looking pale.

"So, it has finally begun?" She said, glancing around at the others.

Harry sighed. "Yes it has, yes it has."