|5.34| The Lost Prophecy

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GRACE'S FEET HIT SOLID ground again; her knees buckled a little and the golden wizard's head fell with a resounding clunk to the floor. She looked around and saw that she had arrived in Dumbledore's office.

Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the headmaster's absence. The delicate silver instruments stood again upon the spindlelegged tables, puffing and whirring serenely. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of their pictures. Grace looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: Dawn was approaching.

Grace stumbled across the room toward the stone wall as her legs gave away and she sild down the floor. The grief of her father's death came crashing back to her. The pain was unbearable, she would not think about it, she could not stand it. . . . There was a terrible hollow inside her she did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished —

"Grace. . ." said Harry quietly kneeling in front of her. 

"My dad's gone, Harry." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "H-He's d-dead."

Harry didn't know what to say, he too had lost Sirius. Both of them had lost him and there was nothing either could do bring him back or to make things better. 

Grace wrapped her hands around his middle tightly, as tears spilled from her eyes like a never ending rain. 

The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, was unbearable to Grace. If her surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside her, the pictures would have been screaming in pain. 

"I'm sorry." mumbled Harry into her hair. "It's all my fault."

Grace pulled away from him, but her arms were still wrapped around his loosely around his middle.

"No." said Grace in the softest voice she could manage. "It's not your fault."

Harry shook his head. "If I hadn't been so stupid, if I had just listened to Hermione — "

"I also didn't listen to Hermione. Harry, it's not your fault." said Grace, gently emphasizing each word.

"But — "

A picture behind them gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah . . . my great-great-great granddaughter and Harry Potter . . ."

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