Chapitre 59: Chapter 59
The two older Weasley children bore down on him.
The moment they were in range he shot off duel stunners from the tips of his fingers weak, far weaker than normal. His control was shot. He could barely muster the ability to swat.
The two Weasleys gasped, eyes widened in shock. They dodged. They fired.
He dodged. He shielded. He fired. They dodged.
"Fuck!" one yelled.
"Go round. Circle her!"
A stunner barely missed him. He stumbled, felt another stunner slam into his shield, felt the shield fail, saw his opponent's look of triumph, realised his hands were instinctively catching his fall. His eyes widened.
Time slowed. He could see the way the wizard's wand was angled, the way his cloak whirled at his sudden halting motion, the way his dragon tooth earring bounced. The way his long ponytail curved. Saw the faint glow of red build on the tip of his wand.
His heart seemed to stop.
Then, suddenly, a flash of red shot from the trees and hit the young man in the side. The triumphal look blanked, and he fell to the ground.
Harry blinked. Time returned. He found his foot, spun to his second adversary, and sent two stunners at a hastily cast shield. They smashed into it, still weakened, but now strong enough. The first absorbed, the second shattered. The spell hit and the second young-man hit the ground with a finalistic thud.
Harry's breath returned. His heart hammered. He spun, eyes darting around for other threats, adrenaline still surging through him.
His eyes spotted movement, and his world re-aligned itself. Relief flowed through him. His trunk fell from his mouth. He laughed. Through the trees towards the Burrow, he spied a familiar lone retreating figure, long red hair waving behind her like a roaring fire.
Sometime later, Harry, still wearing Ginny's form, apparated into his fidelius-hidden cliff vault. Everlasting torches flickered light and warmth across the stone walls and wooden furniture.
There had been no further distress signals on his ring, but the events of the past hour had certainly been a wake-up call. The moment he'd escaped The Burrow, he'd immediately gone to the available hiding spots of Voldemort's soul anchors to grab what he could. Now more than ever, he knew he couldn't afford to just sit around and allow history to repeat. And in his hands was the cold, hard proof.
His left hand clutched the Gaunt ring, sans withering curse. It had been the work of a moment to bypass the security systems, and snatch the ancient heirloom. Voldemort's memories made sure of that. His other hand though… his other hand clutched the locket. And it was fake. His high-pitched female scream of frustration had startled even him, bouncing and echoing off the inferi-filled cave walls. He was going to have to find some way to track or find the missing Horcrux, but that wasn't happening for a while.
Trunks lined the wall of his vault, one contained his drug supplies, another contained a back-up stash of galleons, another held a stash of muggle money, another, a supply of potions, and yet another, an assortment of clothes. A final trunk, in the corner, was empty and lined with lead and acromantula silk.
Harry
opened
the
final
trunk's
first compartment and dumped the oddly bland ring inside. By this time next year, he'd have a second soul anchor. He straightened and started to feel the sensation that told him the polyjuice was wearing off.
He opened the clothes trunk and rummaged around for a suitable selection. His fingers closed over a long leather coat and he grinned, fingering the thestral hide duster he'd bought from the Mongolian craftsman some years before. He wouldn't be tall enough for that for at least two more years, and the coat seemed to suck at holding a re-sizing charm. But when he was tall enough… he smirked.
He pulled off Daphne's dress just as it started to tighten. His muscles reformed, his hair receded to his normal messy mop, and his eyes lit up Avada Kedavra green. He quickly tugged on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, followed by an informal open-robe.
Harry stepped back and surveyed his tiny safe house. He had just under a month before Hogwarts started. He might as well pack everything he'd need now while he was here.
The hearth of Greengrass Manor's family quarters blazed merrily, spreading warmth through the room and into Harry's cold body.
"So, you were on your way to save the day, turned into a girl, and your first thoughts were you needed to dress the part?" Daphne giggled.
Freekey sat on Daphne's shoulder, nibbling on a macadamia nut. Harry smiled a thin smile. "Yes well, I couldn't give any clues, could I? Besides"—he continued, looking contrite—"it did look wrong."
Daphne reclined back in her comfy armchair and regarded him. "Well, that was quick thinking on Weasley's part at least. If she hadn't hidden your cloak and wand when she did they could've linked you to Lord Slytherin through memory examination."
"Yeah." Harry rubbed the back of his head. "That was far too close for comfort."
"She did say your name though…"
He shrugged. "They already knew someone called Harry was involved, so it wasn't too bad."
"And the containment ward?" Harry shuddered. "That thing was a monster. It isn't normally possible to power a ward that strong so quickly. The only explanation I can think of is that the curse breaker tied the ward directly into The Burrow's own perimeter wards." He snorted. "If so, I could've just apparated straight out when I broke it. As it was, smashing that thing almost completely drained me. I was weak, vulnerable, and not thinking straight. Add to that the lack of wand, and the need to keep my signature moves secret, and there you have it." His face contorted in disgust. "The perfect recipe for me being almost beaten by two kids who just graduated."
Daphne's eyebrows knitted together. She looked puzzled. "What caused it though?"
"What?" "Your reaction. I mean, you've never lost control like that before. Have you?"
He thought back to what happened the moment he'd realised he couldn't escape from the containment ward.
"I… I don't know. You're right. I don't know what happened. It just felt like I was trapped. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I felt powerless. I've never reacted like that. Not even in Azkaban or while at the Dursleys." He shivered. "I couldn't even breathe properly. It wasn't a good feeling." He looked at his feet, and continued in a whisper. "The closest I ever felt like that was when I was at Hogwarts, before they locked me away."
Daphne was quiet for a moment. She stood, plopped down beside him, and took his hand in hers. "Harry, look at me." He raised his gaze to meet her ice blue one.
"You saved me from a life of imprisonment, Harry. And I will do everything I can to ensure you never have to go through that again."
He smiled weakly at her. "Thanks, Daph."
"I mean it, Harry. You have me with you this time. And Granger." She frowned briefly before her face changed back to concern. "And the others next year, too. You aren't alone this time."
He smiled again, and this time allowed it to spread over his face.
His focus snapped from Daphne's face, distracted by a sharp tapping from the nearby window. "Oh," said Daphne, "speak of the fey." She stood and let in Hermione's new pet.
The beautiful snowy owl, formally known as Snowy, now known as Hedwig, alighted on the low table and stuck out her leg.
Harry detached the letter and read it. Hermione was so enthusiastic about getting to Hogwarts, so ready to prove herself. They all knew it was going to be tough. They knew they were walking into a multi-year battle for control of the wizarding world, but that didn't squash her spirits. If anything, she seemed even more focused than last time around — sharper, more aware — and while he knew a lot of it was down to his own meddling, he couldn't help but respect the witch.
Daphne stood to his side, reading over his shoulder. "Sounds like she's doing well."
"Yes." He looked around at Daphne. "She's about as ready as she'll ever be." He looked down at the letter again, and to the table where Hedwig and Freekey were nipping and scratching at each other. He rubbed the letter between thumb and forefinger, and spoke softly. "I think we all are."
.
.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone