To Kill a Person

E. Elizabeth

"Hold. You hold!"

"Wait, Harry!"

He turned around. Really, the idea was for them to follow him, back him up, take care of a few things while he took care of others. It was the end of their sixth year, and it should have been happy with the knowledge that soon, everyone would get to go home. Should have been. Something always happened at the end of the year. "Hold," he said again to the others. It was his hope that eventually, someone from the castle would find them. There would be trouble, but at least they'd be safe.

So he turned from them, and along with Ron and Hermione, headed into the forest.

Chapter One

They hadn't been safe. Even with the whole summer to think about it, he couldn't come to terms with the fact that he'd just left them there to die. Well, not all of them had died, actually. They'd all been hurt in varying degrees. Seamus was minus two fingers on his left hand - or right, it didn't matter. He'd been hurt. That's what mattered. Neville was still in St. Mungo's, but he'd be all right in a few more weeks, they said. He'd miss the start of the term, but Harry knew he'd catch up. Susan Bones broke an arm and a leg, ironically enough, and Terry Boot lost an eye. It was amazing how the boy looked now, though... As if he'd never been injured at all. He turned his head to the right a bit when he spoke to anyone, but that made sense. If you're going to look at a person, you don't just want to see half of them.

No, only one had died. Harry remembered her voice, too - the one that told him to wait. Actually, lots of people told him to wait, but it would have to be Amber's voice he remembered. If it had been Neville, he would have remembered Neville's voice. If it had been Luna, then Luna's. Though Harry didn't consider anyone a 'nobody,' Amber Matthews had been about as close as she could get to one. She was a new member of the Defense Association; just joined about midway through last year, actually. The girl was terrible with duelling, and couldn't summon a corporeal Patronus. For a Hufflepuff, she was pretty smart, though. That's probably why he let her go in the first place. After living a couple days with her injuries, though, Amber just couldn't make it anymore.

And now that he'd failed Cedric, and failed Sirius, and failed a whole bunch of people he'd rather not think about, he'd finally failed a girl. Some would think that in a war, chivalry would be dead, and that you'd really only think about the people you ended up with, rather than the gender they happened to be. Harry couldn't help it, though. Even though he'd seen people die now, he'd never get used to it. Not ever. He knew what he had to do. He knew that he couldn't ever give up his dream...

...At the same time, he was slowly becoming more and more jaded. He felt as if he were pushing Amber's death aside, trying to cope with it without feeling it. Actually, he hadn't gone to the funeral, and he regretted that now. At the time, he felt that if he could distance himself from it, it wouldn't seem as real, and he needed it to not seem real. Was this what all Aurors did? It wasn't that he was an Auror yet, but he was definitely heading down that road. Did they just learn how not to feel? He couldn't think of Tonks just... not feeling. Or Moody. Then again, Tonks did distance herself, in a way. She never looked exactly the same twice, and Moody... Well, Moody was crazy. Would Harry find his niche as an emotionless shell?

Ginny squeezed his hand. She'd been holding onto it for some time now, and Harry knew it. It's just that he'd chosen not to respond to it until she made it known. Looking over at her, he gave a little smile that didn't last long, then went back to walking through the old wooden doors of Hogwarts and into the entry hall. The year seemed emptier, even with all the people running around, even with all the laughter and 'glad-to-be-backs' from friends... There was still a definite emptiness to it all. It was in the sad smile one of the Hufflepuffs offered Zacharias. It showed up in Michael Corner's bowed head as he walked through the door behind Harry and Ginny.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Ginny said.

He was required to say, "I know," so he did.

"Let's go to the Great Hall," she continued. "The Sorting..."

Harry nodded, offered another smile, and allowed Ginny to lead him. In some corner of his mind, he knew he'd get over all this, but that was so far pushed back that he could only see the current situation: That was, he just wanted to let things happen, and continue to not let them bother him. It was nice not to argue, and to just nod his head and agree, and let other people make those choices for him. In short, he didn't care. Not at all.

"She was a nice girl," Ginny went on. "And this is your seventh year. You should try to at least enjoy it. There's nothing you can do for her now." Harry nodded again, turning to look at her.

"I just need a little time. Everyone does, I guess. Look, if I'd sent everyone back..."

"We went with you because we wanted to, Harry. Amber did, too, and I'm sure she wouldn't want you moping about her. She's in a better place now, or so they say." Ginny was quiet for a moment. "Do you think people go somewhere when they die?"

Harry nodded again. "I talked to Nick once. There's something, but he's never seen it. They're like echos, ghosts are. They're... Well, I guess they're like a piece of a person. Like all their memories, at least as far as I can figure. Something holds it to the earth and won't let it go. That's about all I figured out. He seems to want to go there."

Ginny arched her eyebrows. "Why doesn't he?"

Blinking, Harry stared at her for a while as he was jostled by a pair of Hufflepuffs heading past them and into the Hall. "Why doesn't he what?"

"Leave."

Honestly, the thought of a ghost just leaving hadn't even occurred to Harry. "Well, if it's even possible, Nick would have done it by now. He's miserable, as far as I can tell. A nice guy, for a ghost, but he's miserable." Harry went back to his stony silence as the two of them strode into the Great Hall. It seemed Ginny knew, or at least suspected, that the boy was trying to give her a hint. Perhaps it was the repetition of the word 'miserable' that did it, and Harry definitely was as much. He hadn't been able to get it out of his head all summer. Not that anyone really noticed, though his Aunt Petunia did ask him what was wrong at one point in July. That was after they'd forgotten his birthday.

Actually, Harry was in a reasonable mood today. He even smiled as he and Ginny sat down next to Ron and across from Hermione. Perhaps it was that he felt like he couldn't forget, as he certainly seemed to want to. In fact, for several minutes, he just reveled in the company of the others before remembering he was supposed to be moping. It was then that he wondered if maybe Ginny was right, and he should just accept it. His reasoning was bouncing all over the place today.

And then Ron asked, "Did anyone go to that Hufflepuff's funeral?" He could be a bit insensitive at times. Harry went back to frowning, though not before he noticed that Ginny shot him a Look.

"Her name's Amber," she said. But no one answered an affirmative to the question as to whether or not anyone went. Ginny went on. "I heard it was nice, though. I got a letter from Hannah over summer, and she and Ernie went." She leaned in a little closer to Harry. "It was a nice service, from what I heard."

"If she'd just been a little quicker..." Hermione muttered, looking at the clean golden plate in front of her. Soon, it would be piled with food. For now, it appeared to be a very good thing to stare at uncomfortably. They continued speaking in hushed tones as the first years were called forward for the sorting, though none of the names really seemed to register at all. Perhaps he just wasn't paying any attention. There were applause, though, muted, from each of the four tables. It was a nice reception, all in all, and as the others chatted, Harry turned to watch as Professor McGonagall finally took the old hat away for another year.

Harry attempted to think of something to say, but it was then that Dumbledore summoned everyone's attention to the front of the Hall again. He always seemed older, every year. There wasn't ever any loss of vitality or spirit in his eyes, but in some ways, the old wizard just seemed to creep further and further along in years. True, he'd already lived a very long time, but it was almost as if that spark was finally starting to dwindle, just the slightest bit. He was still a pillar of strength, at least as far as Harry was concerned. After all, the war was weighing heavily on them all.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together once, then again, and the entire congregation of students fell into near-silence. Though the room was quite large, the headmaster needed nothing to boost the sound of his voice. It carried, and with it always came a message that everyone would do well to abide. Not that a lot of people ever did. Harry included.

"I'd like to welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts. As worried as you all may be, I'd like to reassure you that while you are inside these castle walls, you are safe. Of course, 'inside the castle walls' may have a few of you scratching your heads, so I will get this out of the way as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Due to there being several unavoidable dangers on the school grounds, Quidditch will have to be put on hold, at least for now." There was not a student in the hall who didn't groan at the news. "Care of Magical Creatures classes will be held in the dungeon under Gryffindor tower. Herbology classes will be held in the South tower, which is perfect for such a class, with its many windows." Dumbledore turned to offer a smile to Professors Sprout and Hagrid. "I'd like you all to be very clear on the point that it isn't just the forest that's off-limits this year, but the very grounds themselves. Unless you are in the presence of an escort and have explicit permission, you are to stay within the castle, or in the inner courtyard."

It would definitely make things difficult, that much was certain. Still, Harry found himself not caring as much as he usually would have. The headmaster continued. "Before we get onto more serious matters, like eating, it is my pleasure to introduce your new Defense Against the Arts instructor, William Medley, whom I trust will receive a warm welcome from you all."

Again, there were muted applause. Several people exchanged worried looks... Defense teachers didn't tend to last long around Hogwarts.

"I must reiterate the warnings conveyed in past years," Dumbledore went on. "It is absolutely imperative that we show a unified front, as failing to do so can be detrimental not only to yourself, but to the people you care about. I can't lie, and I won't. Though you'll find that some try to cover it up, you must understand without a doubt that we hold classes in the midst of a war. There will be casualties." If it was possible, the Hall fell quieter for a moment, and the elderly wizard allowed that to hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "We do our best to protect the ones we love, and that's all we really can do.

"And lastly, you might notice a peculiar face about the corridors as you go to classes. She's a bit shy, but don't be afraid to say hello. I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Dumbledore smiled, and with the end of his speech came the enormous start-of-the-year feast.

As Hermione loaded her plate with meats and potatoes, she asked, "A peculiar face. What could he have meant by that?"

"Take a look over at the Slytherin table," Ron answered, lifting a breadroll to point in that direction. "I don't know about you, but I see a lot of peculiar faces right there."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Somehow I don't think that's exactly what he meant. It's probably just a cat. Maybe Filch got a new cat." She added some fresh cooked vegetables to her plate. "Then again, if it's as bad as the other one, I don't think she'll much appreciate us saying hello."

"Think Snape will be as toxic as he was last year?" Ron went on, the subject of the peculiar face forgotten, for now.

"Do you think he won't?" Harry had to wonder. "Last year, we had homework up to our ears, and we have NEWTs at the end of this year. I won't be surprised if he's worse."

"Of course we're going to have more work." Leave it to Hermione to rationalize it. "We're leaving school in June. You have to expect it. There's still a lot to teach us in one year, so I'd be rather disappointed in the administration if they went easy on us."

The only one not staring openly at Hermione was Ginny, and she was smiling knowingly into her plate as she cut apart a potato. Even Dean and Seamus stopped talking to turn and look at her. She looked offended. "What? You didn't expect this year to be easy, did you? Honestly, the lot of you..."

Dinner was pleasant. Harry left hand-in-hand with Ginny, thinking maybe his constant bad mood had been the fault of the Dursleys. Back at school, even with danger so close by, he felt at home. Sure, there was still a heaviness, but he felt like he belonged, and that the problems were still problems, but they could be dealt with in time. Things would be all right. Hope. That's what he felt. Hope. And it felt good.