Disclaimer: I am certainly not J.K. Rowling, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters but I do own the Comptons and the plot, okay?
The Compton Diary
This seventh page is written in the blotted script of Bernard Compton.
Wednesday 20th March 1998
It happened last night.
They came and took him.
My head still hurts and my Alice still sleeps.
Harry knew. He tried to warn me.
My nose is raw with the cold sea air and the skin on my face is salty.
There were many of them, though one arrived before the rest. His name was Lupin. He was one of them. One of Harry’s kind. I can remember now, how I first became acquainted with them. It was during the war, of course.
Lupin came yesterday evening. Harry seemed to be well acquainted with him, and though not surprised at his sudden arrival, seemed vaguely displeased with him.
I was in the kitchen, and when the new man arrived he greeted Harry like a brother, and there was great concern in his eyes. He wanted to say something, but then noticed me, sitting at the table. Harry told me that this man’s name was Lupin. I thought it quite an odd name, but his are an odd sort. I retained an air of calm oblivion and he saw no harm in me. I noticed that he too carried a stick in his belt, and what struck me at once was how worn his cloak seemed. The robes made little impression on me; I have seen them before.
Alice came in from the gardening, her gloves caked in mud. She was somewhat overwhelmed by the new guest, and she asked what he was doing in our home.
He said he had come to take Harry.
At this Harry suddenly glared at him, as if to convey that his deepest desire was to stay. He then looked at me sadly.
Alice questioned this abrupt statement. Harry stirred at this question, and told her that he had to. His eyes were suddenly quite fearful, and he smoothed his hand over his forehead. He walked defiantly out of the room, muttering something to Lupin, as he took a brown package from him.
I sensed something bad about this man, as if he could all of a sudden launch attack at either of us. I felt the old hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I remembered the last time I had been around such men as he.
Yet his eyes were kind, and full of caution. He was young, though his skin was rather lined, and his hair was greying.
“You’re just taking him away?”
My mouth felt dry. I knew hardly anything about Harry, but now I could not imagine our home without him.
He sighed.
“You are in grave danger. He cannot stay with you any longer.”
I felt eyes at the back of my head, and turned to see Harry in the doorway behind me.
“Are you ready?”
Harry was pale. He was wearing different robes now. They were plain black. He nodded. He held his own stick in his hand.
Lupin now turned to him, his own stick ready.
“You understand that we have to do this, don’t you?”
Harry nodded, but I saw him swallow, and he was reluctant to meet my eyes. He spoke as if to himself, staring at the wooden floor.
“It doesn’t mean I’ll forget about you.”
They raised their sticks at Alice, and in a flash I was between her and them, my fist raised. I roared at them. They would not touch her. I would do anything for her.
Alice remained still; no reaction showed on her face as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
Harry now directed his stick at me. His was not angry; but his words were drumming into my skull like a heavy winter storm,
“You don’t understand. They’ll hurt you. I have to leave; you can’t get hurt because of me; we have to make you forget!”
Of course I didn’t understand. I had no idea who “they” meant, and as I turned my eyes to the window I saw dusk settling in the air, turning the garden grey.
Only now do I understand why Harry’s eyes widened suddenly as he spun around to face the door, only now do I understand why he and Lupin wanted him out of our memories, only now do I know why we were forced into Harry’s room and locked in.
I stumbled onto the bed as the door locked. Alice’s expression was blank. I wished her face would change, and then I recalled that mountain cave, closely surrounded on all sides by walls, just like this room. The walls seemed to close in, and I knew we were doomed.
In my panic, I ran to the window. But when I reached it I saw that there was no window, only wall. I turned again to the door, and I felt my heart go still when I realised there was no door either, only cream walls at every turn. Alice sat on the bed.
I wanted her to look at me.
“Alice!”
A cried her name again and again, and then I was on my knees, the doorless, windowless room growing even smaller.
Then I heard it, the inevitable bursts of energy, the crashing and the cackling of evil men. I felt the floor shake, and I thought the walls were coming down. I was in a tired heap on the floor, hearing the sounds of my friends dying around me. The sounds grew distant now, and I wondered what sort of terror I must face in the next hour. The white ceiling plummeted towards me, and I was screaming.
I don’t know how long I knelt there, the floor swaying in motion with the violent sounds outside. I only became vaguely aware of Alice’s presence when she pointed at me.
“Look there.”
It was the first thing I heard her say, and as I sprang from delirium to sheer nausea I followed her pointed finger, to beneath the bed. I gasped as I saw the pool of dried blood, blurring in my watery eyes.
Alice was crouched beside me, comforting me as she would a small child. I realise too late that the room was no prison, it was a protection.
The fighting ceased.
We could no longer hear it. The screams, the laughter, the terror, seemed to be emptied from our home. I looked up from Alice’s kind shoulder to see that the door had returned. It swung soundlessly open, and as I stumbled to my feet, I gazed out, to see who was there.
The living room was a mess. The darkness made silhouettes of the scattered pieces of furniture, completely blown apart. There were holes in the walls, and the television had been reduced to ashes. The bookshelf had fallen, scattering books and photographs all over the carpet, which was now drenched in some places with the smell of blood. The only thing that remained unbroken was my old gun. It lay in the corner, and the smell and scattered debris reminded me of those old times. I picked it up, knowing that the barrel was loaded in case of emergency.
I held Alice’s hand as we walked through the devastation that had once been our sitting room.
It felt like a bomb had fallen.
Silence muffled our thoughts. The darkness blanketed us, and I gazed out the large hole where an entire wall had been reduced to rubble. A soft wind blew towards me, and I shivered.
I should have stayed there. Instead I found myself running through the rubble. I needed to know. I needed to see what Harry was. The muddy grass took hold of my slippers and drenched my socks as I ran. I heard Alice calling after me, but for once I took no heed. I ran to them, the dark figures on the cliff edge.
I immediately lay down, flat out in the grass, in an effort not to be seen.
The wind became bitter as I approached the group. It swept through me like a knife, and my chest was heaving. I saw several of these mysterious men with sticks, their forces I never dream to command. Many wore masks. They fought in scattered groups, each conjuring their own flashes of power, sending it to the other. There may have been ten of these beings fighting on the cliff, but one stood out to me.
Harry fought bravely against too of these beings. His skill and excellent reflexes were clear to me. I felt a strange sense of pride as I watched him, but I panicked when he fell. One of the beings bore down on him, their stick pointed directly at his chest, as I had seen done many years ago. He watched, helplessly, as the stick was lowered towards him.
My fingers tightened around the gun in my hand. Hastily, I aimed it towards the being and shot.
My victim did not fall, but the resounding crack of the gunshot was sufficient to distract the figure, and it gave Harry enough time to shoot his own force at it.
His force made it crumple to the grass, and I watched as the crowd thinned, each figure dissolving into the air. Finally, only two remained standing.
Harry and Lupin still stood at the cliff edge, and their faces were directed towards me. I looked across the empty space between us. Harry raised his arm and waved. I lifted myself from the mud, but when I looked up again, they were gone.
The air was full of a fine drizzle and the sea was all I heard. I turned to go back to my destroyed home.
Alice was there to greet me.
I held her close, my body stiff with cold. As I looked around the cottage I was overjoyed to see that there was no sign of damage, that the sitting room had in one instant been restored to its former glory. I do not try to comprehend how magic works, but I know that there has been plenty in my life.
She was exhausted, and I did not tell her what I had witnessed. This past week has been as clear as crystal to me, and I know it will remain that way forever.