Chapitre 35: Prophecy fulfilled
Voldemort reclined back in his seat at the head of the dining table of Malfoy Manor. Looking around him, he gazed at the assembled Death Eaters.
'Dolohov,'
The man in question understood the rest of the sentence even though it went unspoken. 'We have our people in place, My Lord. Our victims are fully under their control, and in position. Bones won't know what hit her when they attack. We only await your word.'
Voldemort was silent for a long moment, his eyes staring at nothing.
'Macnair,'
The bald moustachioed wizard stood up. 'The Gurg has consented to sending five more giants for our cause. With the current administration in power, it will take them three weeks at the most to enter Britain.'
'That should be no problem soon,' Voldemort said dismissively, now looking at the ceiling. 'And what news do you have for me, Severus?'
'Burbage has proven to be a source of information, My Lord. It seems that Potter holds the wards to the school.'
There was a lot of murmuring at this. Surprised, Voldemort looked at Snape. 'Potter?' he said with a hint of incredulity colouring his voice.
'Yes, it appears that Dumbledore trusted the boy a lot. Apparently his last act before he was ambushed was to hand over the wards to the boy. Also,' Snape hesitated. He had a good feeling that the Dark Lord was not going to like this information.
'What is it, Severus?' Voldemort spoke out silkily his red eyes narrowing.
'I do not know of the veracity of this bit of information, but according to the Blood Traitor teacher …' Snape paused. 'Potter holds the title of Lord Slytherin.'
It took a moment for the collective to register what the greasy haired man had said. Muted cries of surprise rang throughout the room.
'He what?' Voldemort whispered dangerously.
The sounds of saliva being swallowed broke the silence that followed as the assembled Death Eaters collectively gulped. Snape in particular wondered for a fleeting moment if he had done the smart thing in revealing this information.
But Voldemort did nothing. 'Call for the food,' he finally said, waving a negligent hand at Lucius.
As the food appeared, the Death Eaters heaved a unanimous sigh of relief. The Dark Lord wasn't about to fly into a violent explosion of temper … yet.
As he filled his plate, Voldemort absently noticed that Draco was quite distracted. Now that he thought about it, the boy had spent the entire meeting just looking down, hidden away between his parents. Voldemort scoffed. The boy was quite a weakling, unlike Potter.
Now there was a person with spirit. While he hated the boy with the burning fires of a thousand suns, Voldemort had to hand it over to the lad. He had the guts to stand up to him. Potter reminded him of himself when he was younger. If only he could win the boy over…
'We shall take care of Potter shortly.' Voldemort finally said. 'Severus, what have you found out on that front?'
Snape swallowed. 'The boy is still living at his relatives' home despite their arrest. The Order plans on moving him in two days, a week before his birthday.'
Voldemort watched idly as Rodolphus Lestrange contested Severus' information. Rodolphus was of the opinion that there was no way that the boy was staying there. Potter had apparently duelled with the veteran Death Eater and while the older man had escaped unscathed, something had unsettled him. It looked like a private meeting was in order to sort out what it was.
'Enough,' the softly spoken word was enough to quell the debate. 'I have a feeling that Severus might be right. If he is, then the boy and I will have our final meeting.' Voldemort allowed a small smile to play on his face. 'I sincerely hope that Severus is right, because I confess myself to eagerly anticipating this meeting. Should he be wrong … well, I will be quite disappointed.'
Lucius Malfoy II was nervous has he sat down at his dining room. This was the night that would either seal his fate for liberate him. His son had approached him a few days back with quite an interesting tale.
Apparently Draco had made an alliance with Potter over the school year. In exchange for the dark haired boy's help in Draco's task, Draco would aid Potter in bringing down the master.
Lucius couldn't help but feel proud of his son. For years, as he watched his son grow up, he had despaired over the future of the Malfoy line. Draco was openly arrogant and had become a loud-mouthed braggart, using his father's name liberally to get his way or to cow his enemies. That was not how a Malfoy acted.
A Malfoy was sly, a Malfoy was cunning. A Malfoy sidled up to the person in power and reaped the benefits. At the same time, a Malfoy would keep his options open so that when the tide turned, they would shift their allegiances so fast that nobody would ever doubt that the family was against them in the first place.
Their fickle loyalty was how they had stayed rich for so long ever since Armand Malfoy had landed in Britain along with William the Conqueror. It was that same trait that had everyone convinced that they had been for the separation of wizards and Muggles from the start, despite their initial opposition to the Statute of Secrecy. Lucius could very well remember the story of how one of his ancestors, his namesake, had nearly won the hand of the Muggle Queen Elizabeth I. Had the rest of the population known of this, as well as their business dealings with Muggles, the Malfoys' reputation would be ruined.
However, Draco was not like a typical Malfoy. The boy's Black heritage proved to be stronger. He was quick to anger and slow to forgive. Unfortunately, Draco also lacked the cunning and tact that the Blacks were reputed for.
But all those doubts had been erased this past year. Draco had grown. The ingenious way in which he had ingratiated himself to Potter while at the same time ensuring that his loyalty to the Dark Lord could not be called into question was inspiring.
But it also proved that Potter was no simpleton. The boy's use of the Unbreakable Vow to ensure Draco's silence till permission was given was quite interesting. This, coupled with how the boy had tricked him into unconditionally releasing his personal elf, showed Lucius that the Boy Who Lived possessed quite a bit of cunning.
However, it still did not change the fact that they were going up against the most powerful and terrible Dark Lord in modern history. While he could claim that he and Draco had purposefully led Potter here to his doom, should the Dark Lord emerge victorious, there was no telling how the Dark Lord would react to this news.
Lucius would have had more loyalty towards the Dark Lord and would have possibly informed his master, preferably now, as he sat at the table watching Snape and Macnair bicker, but he desisted. Service under the Dark Lord had become onerous of late. More so after the wizard had found out about the destruction of his old diary and the role Lucius had played in its destruction.
The Dark Lord's wrath was something that Lucius was glad to not experience as he had been captured and imprisoned by Dumbledore's people. However, the man had shown how cruel and devious he could be by marking Draco as a Death Eater, giving his only son a nigh impossible task and basically sealing his fate. The family would be better off without the maniac. He had sworn, the minute he had first laid eyes on his new born son, to protect Draco. No matter how spoiled his boy had become, Lucius still loved him. So he said nothing, and only observed, his expression carefully controlled, as his son discreetly took a mirror out, whispered a few words and put it back in.
Harry tucked his mirror inside his robes. Making some last minute adjustments to his basilisk hide armour, he turned to look at the leader of Flamel's little private army. Over the centuries, the immortal had secretly kept a bunch of hired hands to help carry out certain tasks. The group had no name, and the only people who knew the identities of the soldiers were their teammates.
The rough looking man, who went by the name of "Joe", tapped his ear, activating a useful device invented by the amaranthine alchemist. Thanks to a combination of the Protean Charm and a listening spell, the small discs of rubber that each member, including Harry, had in their ears could be used to communicate.
'Can everyone hear me?' Even though Harry did not understand the explanation given to him (something about bone conduction), he knew that to get a message across, all one had to do was tap the disc once and speak in a normal voice. And the person speaking need not lower his voice thanks to the silencing spell contained in the rune etched cloth covering the lower half of their faces.
Getting an audial confirmation from each one of the members assembled there, the leader continued, his voice heard by everyone despite the room itself being silent.
'We all know the plan. It's standard operating procedure: Burst inside and take out as many of those dark robed twats. If anyone inside is unarmed or not a threat, incapacitate them. If they have a wand or are otherwise armed (and I don't care if it's a bleedin' butter knife or knitting needle they are holding) incapacitate or kill, you got that?' Seeing nods all around, he continued. 'Good, you lot,' he pointed at a group, 'Are on extermination duty, as you know. There's a dirty great snake snooping around here and you have the easy job of killing it. Do it as quickly as you can. As for the rest of you, you know the drill: keep the kid alive, avoid the Dark Tosser and let the boy handle him.'
Seeing the team nod one final time, the leader said, 'Let's move out.'
Draco had been quite helpful. In their first meeting after Dumbledore's death in Muggle London, the blond had given him a map of the house and property, detailing where the Death Eaters were most likely to be as well as pointing out the secret passages leading to the house. He had especially marked the dining room, the place Voldemort generally held his meetings.
Harry had worked intensely with members of Flamel's private army for two weeks before deciding to make their move. Draco had also mentioned a major meeting that the Dark Lord would definitely be attending on this day.
Upon receiving a prearranged signal, Draco lowered the wards surrounding the manor for five minutes, giving them the opportunity to sneak in. Bursting out of the secret entrance, the party of twelve surprised the lone guard they had encountered. Harry had immediately identified the man as a certain traitorous friend of his father's. The Stunning spell had hit the coward before he could do more than open his mouth.
Stepping over the downed man, Harry casually shot off a bone breaker to each of the man's limbs, taking vicious glee in doing so. Even if the spell wore off, there was nowhere for Peter to go. Not after Harry had summoned and destroyed the man's wand.
'There are people in here,' a team member commented. Looking inside through a small window set in the door, Harry could see dishevelled forms within the darkened cellar.
One of the wizards, who Harry recognised as Florean Fortescue in the wand light, staggered to his feet as the door opened. 'Thank Merlin,' he rasped.
One of the soldiers came into the cell holding a bag. 'I found four wands on that Death Eater.' He extracted the items in question. The magical prisoners, two wizards and two witches immediately stepped forward to claim their magical foci.
'Find your way out of here through the passage,' Harry said, lowering his cloth, causing the prisoner's eyes to widen in recognition as he gave Mr Fortescue a Portkey. 'This will see you to safety. We would love to help, but we have a mission.' The grim look he gave to the door leading to the house proper was all that Florean needed to understand what the boy was talking about.
'Thank you, boy,' Florean said as he limped out of the dark cellar, helped along by two of the other prisoners. 'If you make it out of here alive, I promise you a lifetime worth of free ice cream at my shop.'
The prisoners slowly staggered and limped out towards safety, helped along by two of the soldiers.
'What about the Muggles?'
'What about them?' the leader asked, giving a sidelong glance at Harry.
Harry was silent as he took his time readjusting the cloth over his face. 'I don't see anything.' He finally said as he turned around and walked out. The Minister had told him the previous day about what had happened to Petunia and Dudley Dursley. To know that two of the three of his childhood tormentors were going to be free and be able to live relatively normal lives, thanks to the Muggle Queen, made him angry. The worst bit was that Petunia would only get seven years (which was the maximum sentence meted out in cases of child abuse) while Dudley would be put in foster care till he reached eighteen. This convinced him that the Muggles would always look out for each other, no matter what. So why should he look out for them? Let the Muggles handle these prisoners.
Joe smirked underneath his cloth as he and the rest left the room, ignoring the feeble pleas of the Muggles. Closing the door and casting a silencing charm on it to block any sound from escaping, he turned to the rest. 'Well it isn't exactly our duty to save anybody. It certainly isn't written in our contract.'
'Right, enough dallying, let's get a move on.' He flexed his gauntlet.
Harry was quite impressed with the item resting on the offhand of every one of Flamel's army. A prototype, again, developed by the alchemist, the gauntlet was made of a special alloy of gold. Reaching up to the elbow, it was etched in runes to contain two spells: the shielding charm, and the cutting charm. Making a fist with the gauntlet would trigger the first spell while a slashing motion would release the second. The number of spells it could hold was limited, however.
In addition to that, the fingers ended in wicked sharp claws. This, along with the reinforced nature of the metal made it a devastating weapon for close combat. A spring loaded retractable blade attached on the back of the wrist added extra reach for stabbing.
Harry refused those, stating that he was more comfortable with dual casting. He never mentioned to Flamel that both his arms were magical foci, meaning that he could theoretically cast spells with both hands.
However, he had not yet perfected the art of casting without a wand, still dependant on the movements to get a spell out. It was a weakness, he knew, but there wasn't enough time, and progress was too slow. Not that it mattered. He could probably pick up a stick on the ground (or anything resembling a stick) and continue if he lost his "wands".
Ascending the steep stairs, they stopped at a landing where there was another shallower staircase to the right ending at a wooden doorway. Here, half of them went further up, towards the drawing room, in search of Nagini. The other half, with Harry, went right towards what they knew were the kitchens.
Standing to one side of the door, Joe cast a spell with his wand, rendering the door transparent to the intruders. The spell revealed a host of Death Eaters sitting around a large rough table, feasting.
Taking a moment to memorise their positions, the hardened warriors blasted the door open, diving through the smoke and using the confusion to dispatch the Death Eaters.
Harry hung back. While he would love to join in on the fight, Flamel had advised against it. The alchemist had made quite a valid point: it would not do for Harry to become injured before he had to face Voldemort.
But staying out of the fight did not mean that he had to be useless. Drawing his wands and lowering the cloth, Harry started chanting an incantation in Parseltongue which was more like a rhyme.
'Death to life,
Life to slaughter
Arise, arise beasts of the forests
Arise, arise beasts of the fields
Forget your natures and become the wolf
To kill a wolf'
At once, all the meat that was set on the table came to life. The birds staggered up on bony legs while the centrepiece, a large boar, spit out the apple in its mouth as its crackling legs took its weight once more.
The dead creatures then fell upon the Death Eaters, using bones taken from their own bodies as weapons.
Harry watched with interest as a Death Eater was stabbed in the neck by two blackened ribs wielded by a pair of roasted chicken. The Parseltongue spells he had picked up from Slytherin's journals were archaic and long winded, but they were undeniably powerful. It would have taken many applications of modern animation charms to get such complex movement from inanimate objects.
The fight lasted a few minutes, the Death Eaters, despite their superior numbers, were caught unawares twice over, giving the intruders the edge. Two had been incapacitated, four were captured and the rest were dead.
'Not bad, Potter,' one of the soldiers, going by the name of Teagen said as he looked at the animated food. 'I see you still have some surprises up your sleeve. Though I think I am going to be vegetarian for a couple of weeks.' He grimaced as a headless grilled quail waddled by.
'If you don't mind,' Joe growled as he and the rest approached the door. 'There still is work to do.'
Voldemort was about to put a forkful of food into his mouth when he heard the noises coming from the kitchens.
Narrowing his red eyes, he and the other Death Eaters slowly turned to look at the door leading towards the room. With the exception of the Malfoys, everybody's hand now gripped a wand as they all got onto their feet.
The sounds of what was unmistakably a battle were now accompanied by screams of terror which were almost immediately cut off.
In the silence that followed, Voldemort jerked his head towards the door and said in a low voice, 'Selwyn.'
Keeping his wand steady, the Death Eater made his way forward. As he neared the door, Voldemort and the others raised their wands in preparation as they moved away from the table and got into a loose formation. Nobody noticed the Malfoys inching towards the back.
Selwyn was inches away from the door when it blew open, smacking him to the side.
Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise as a group of hooded masked individuals dove into the room, firing spells left and right. A part of him was intrigued at the golden gauntlets that allowed them to fire off spells. Though from what he observed as his Death Eaters fought them, the spells were limited.
Red eyes narrowing, Voldemort caressed his yew wand. He had a very strong suspicion about how these people had managed to gain entrance. He cast his eyes at the blond family standing behind him as he casually raised a shield that blocked a stray curse. Then again, if the Malfoys truly had a hand in this, the invading force would have been much larger.
However, these people were pretty good. Despite being outnumbered two to one, they were holding their ground. What was worse was that with the fall of Rabastan, they had already lost two of their number while their mysterious opponents (who clearly were not Aurors) had yet to suffer one.
With a flick of his wand, Voldemort brought a heavy platter in the path of an Avada Kedavra headed towards Bellatrix's back. With a flourish of his wand, he prepared to join the battle.
He was prevented from engaging the person who tried to kill Bellatrix when with a clatter of hooves, a roast boar followed by a myriad of dead birds rushed in and attacked him.
Snarling, Voldemort banished the swine into a wall with a blasting hex. Turning to the fowl without a pause he let loose another banisher. He was surprised when one of his targets nimbly dodged aside and threw a rib towards him. This was not normal behaviour for animated objects.
Voldemort gracefully stepped out of the way of the flying bone fragment. With eyes aglow and a snarl, he incinerated the birds with a whip of fire. This had gone on long enough. Turning to his Death Eaters his chilling voice rang out, 'Capture them, I want to find out how they got in.' A bone breaker fired from his wand caught one of the assailants in the arm, downing the man and making the Death Eaters fight with more vigour.
Just then the combatants froze as they heard a hissing noise come from the kitchens. Voldemort turned in surprise: That was Parseltongue.
'Men cut down in your prime,
Men cut down before your time…'
The sight of a curse flying towards him prevented him from hearing the rest. Whipping around, Voldemort fired off an organ liquefying curse at the person who dared attack him. He snarled when his opponent gracefully moved out of the way, causing the curse to splash against the far wall.
A hail of curses brought Voldemort's attention back to the entrance to the kitchen. Five figures rushed into the fray, throwing curse after curse at the Death Eaters, bolstering the ranks of the invading force and levelling the playing field. The newcomers fought as if they were unafraid of dying.
It did not take long for all involved to notice the unseeing eyes, the pale skin or the gaping wounds that did not bleed to realise that these reinforcements were actually dead.
'What magic is this?' Voldemort exclaimed as he banished one of the corpses only for it to spring back and resume cursing, jets of light pouring out of his wand. These were not Inferi. Inferi did not move this quickly, and it took days to create one. And most importantly, Inferi could not cast spells. Even if those spells were weak.
Harry stared from his position just inside the kitchens. He knew that this level of necromancy would not be possible if it weren't for the Hallows. Using Parseltongue to power the spell only felt right.
'Hello, Tom.'
Voldemort turned towards the voice. There, framed by the now destroyed doorway stood Harry Potter.
'Potter,' he breathed.
'I hope you like the little army I raised,' Harry said with a sweeping gesture of his hand indicating the dead Death Eaters fighting their live counterparts. 'It was a little spell my ancestor, Salazar Slytherin had learnt long ago. As you can see, he kept that a secret, passing it down only to his heirs. I hope you aren't afraid of them.'
Voldemort's eye twitched. He had searched high and low for Parseltongue spells, but was unsuccessful. Those who knew them had made sure to avoid him, denying him the knowledge. That Potter had such knowledge (no matter how archaic) infuriated him. This was his legacy! Salazar was his ancestor!
He also did not want to admit to the thrill of fear that ran through him upon seeing the walking dead. How had the boy known of his secret terror? He had taken pains to ensure no one knew about it.
Unless…
'The old man has been teaching you about me, has he?' Voldemort laughed coldly. Swiftly turning around, he obliterated the two corpses that were sneaking up on him. Whirling back, he said. 'Let's see how much he has really taught you.' With that, he slashed his wand at the boy.
The only indication of the spell's passing was the rippling of air in front of Voldemort as a wave of destructive magic designed to cleave living things in twain headed towards his lone opponent. The beauty of the curse was that physical shields could not stop it while it took a lot of power to get a decent enough magical shield that could withstand the curse.
Harry leapt towards the high ceiling, sailing over Voldemort and raining down curses as he passed by.
Voldemort sidestepped, blocked, and parried the curses with ease, turning around to face his opponent with a bored expression on his face. The spells were quite elementary, after all.
He was therefore quite surprised at the high powered piercing curse that rocketed out of the boy's wand with speed.
Calling up an advanced shield, Voldemort deflected the curse away from him, causing the spell to punch a hole right through the body of one of Potter's allies.
'Not bad, Harry,' Voldemort said mockingly. 'The old man has taught you quite a bit. Too bad he couldn't teach you one important thing; that I am immortal!'
Harry inexplicably smiled. 'Would you be talking about those Horcruxes of yours? Or was it something else?'
'What?' Voldemort snapped, shocked. Another thrill of fear passed through him. The old man had somehow discovered another of his secrets. Though he had a good feeling as to how that happened. His burning red eyes went straight to Lucius Malfoy who was cowering with his wife and son.
'You and I are going to have a discussion after I put down this whelp, Lucius.' Voldemort said malevolently. Turning back to Harry he snarled. 'So you found out the secret of my immortality, Potter. So what of it? I doubt you know how far I have gone, or where those items are, much less what they are.' Subtly, he palmed his yew wand for the wand he had taken from Lucius.
'Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's diadem,' Harry rattled off quickly as he conjured a slab of marble to intercept Voldemort's Avada Kedavra. 'Yeah, I got them all.' Absently, he transformed the debris of his conjured shield into metallic discs that took the brunt of the volley of curses that followed. 'I destroyed your school diary in my second year, and Dumbledore finished off the ring.'
Angered by this revelation, Voldemort fired off three Killing Curses in succession. The first two, thanks to a small twist he had designed, curved so that they would intercept at an angle, while the third one flew straight towards his target. The end effect was that Harry was now facing a phalanx of green death.
Unperturbed, Harry flourished both wands, bringing his offhand to bear for the first time. The trio of Killing Curses were shortly stopped in their tracks as three objects absorbed their energy.
Voldemort was brought to his knees as a high pitched wailing filled the room. The other combatants stopped their fighting, distracted by the sound. However the reanimated corpses (of which two were remaining) were not affected. The pair set upon a distracted Bellatrix Lestrange, pouncing on her and physically clawing at her, their magical cores drained. Voldemort's best Death Eater died of a broken neck, her eyes clawed out. The remaining combatants, Rodolphus and Dolohov soon followed her as their lone opponent, Joe, sent an Avada Kedavra at the former while slashing at the latter with his gauntlet.
Turning to the battlefield, Joe set about securing his surroundings, reinforcing the stunning and binding spells on the lone captured Death Eater after which he started searching for any surviving colleagues. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Potter and the Dark Lord. He was too drained and too weak to help the boy out. Potter was on his own for now. Besides, with the way the battle was escalating, he had to find cover. Quickly dragging those that he found were even remotely alive to a corner, he placed an odd device on the ground and called up a transparent heavy duty bunker shield. Hopefully this would tide them over for now.
Harry shook his head, ridding himself of the last of the ringing in his ears. 'I was about to tell you that I had not destroyed those yet.' He rasped. 'Anyway, it looks like you took care of that for me, so thanks!' Seeing that his opponent was still staring at the destroyed objects in shock, he brought both his wands to bear and fired off two Sectumsempra curses simultaneously.
But Voldemort was not beaten yet. With a twitch of his hand, the huge table, that was inexplicably still untouched, flew to intercept the curses. With a roar of rage, Voldemort banished the splinters towards Harry, followed by a blasting curse.
Harry quickly transfigured the splinters to cotton and bunched them together to form another slab of marble to intercept the blasting curse. However, the spell was too powerful. The shockwave from the resulting explosion as the stone intercepted the curse was enough to send Harry flying. Landing on the hard ground with a thump, he rolled to a stop near the doors that lead out of the room, groaning.
Voldemort approached his fallen enemy, snapping one of the wands on his way. He loomed over his downed opponent.
He laughed as Potter weakly raised his arm, his fingers reaching out. Slowly, he brought Lucius' wand to bear. He would show the boy mercy, all right.
Suddenly, bolts of lightning shot out from Potter's fingers, catching Voldemort by surprise. The Dark Lord screamed in pain as he was blown off his feet.
Shooting up to his feet in a burst of energy, Harry stalked forward. A rapidly sealing cut on his forehead had bled enough to give his face a ghastly look. Feeling the stiffness in his body fading, he silently thanked himself for having the presence of mind to do all those body enhancing rituals. Clenching his fists, he knew in a sudden burst of clarity when he had blasted Voldemort with the lightning that he could do without the crutch of those fake wands. Suddenly everything just seemed to click.
Voldemort was quick to get to his feet. The side of his face was mildly sunburnt, the rapidly fading pink patch standing out starkly against the otherwise pale skin. The wand that he was holding, however, was completely destroyed. Only a blackened stump remained.
Voldemort dropped the useless shard looking at his blackened fingers in disgust. He did not feel much pain there, as his body was already healing itself, the broken fingers rearranging and the skin renewing.
'I see that you have done some rituals, Harry,' he said as he saw his younger nemesis healing at a similarly accelerated rate. 'Though I also notice that they are the pathetic weaker versions of what I used. You don't heal as fast as I do.' Smirking and drawing out his yew wand, Voldemort spread his arms and said loudly. 'I have done far more than you, than anyone! You might have destroyed five of my Horcruxes, but so what? You don't have them all! I cannot be killed, Harry. And once I am done with you, I will – urk'
He was interrupted by a sharp pain as he felt cold steel slide into his back. Snarling in anger, Voldemort whirled around, backhanding the backstabber. His eyes flashed an unholy red as he beheld the crumpled form of Draco Malfoy. 'You dare,' he whispered in a deadly voice. 'You are just like your traitorous father!' He shot off a Cruciatus Curse, 'And just as incompetent! I should have ended the Malfoy line a long time back!' With that he whipped his wand forward and shot off a Killing Curse.
Draco just watched the curse approach as if in slow motion. He knew there was no way that he could move out in time. He closed his eyes, waiting for the curse to claim his life…
…Only to open them when he heard the sound of a body falling. Looking around, he saw the lifeless eyes of his father. Lucius Malfoy, in one desperate act to save his son and heir, had sacrificed himself.
Harry watched the scene in shock and disbelief. It was true that he had given Draco the knife when he had met the blond, but he did not expect something so brazen. Nor had he expected Lucius to do something so … self-sacrificing.
The Dark Lord snorted as he looked at the fallen form of his greatest benefactor and principle financer. 'Looks like slippery Lucius does have some Hufflepuff qualities,' turning back to Draco, he said. 'Time to die'
Before Voldemort could utter the first syllable of the Killing Curse, Harry had recovered enough to blast the Dark Lord away.
Voldemort twisted and landed on his feet. Yanking the stiletto out, he looked at the handle. 'The Potter Crest?' he gave both the boys a hate-filled glare. 'I see that you two have been working together. No matter,' discarding the dagger carelessly, he brought his wand to bear and shot off a multitude of curses.
Draco could only watch as the two wizards fought each other. The Dark Lord was a terrible sight to behold as he cast curse after curse in rapid succession. Blocking, parrying and dodging at the same time with ease and lightning speed. He made Bellatrix Lestrange looked like a slow moving, graceless first-year.
Harry was no slouch either. Mainly using transfiguration and charms, he weaved magic around him as if he was born to do so. What was even more surprising was that he was not using any wands. Jets of colourless magic were rippling away from his palms to Voldemort who, regardless, was quick to recover from the display of wandless magic.
The magic they were throwing around flew at a furious space. Curses were blocked in a trice by slabs of stone. The shards that formed were transformed to spinning knives in a breath. Those, in turn, were burnt into a cinder in the next breath. The flames then took on demonic shapes only to be doused by water which was frozen into an icicle and returned.
The combatants did not stay still either. Both of them were moving, using their environment to their advantage. Wood, stone and even corpses and viscera were used in the furious battle that waged.
All Draco could do was find shelter and cower with his mother.
But in the end, Harry's inexperience was to be his undoing. Voldemort crowed in triumph as he caught the boy with a banishing charm. Capitalising on this, he sent a Cruciatus curse at the boy.
'How many times do I have to tell you, boy,' he said as he walked to the panting figure in front of him. 'I. Cannot. Be. Killed!' He punctuated each word with a short dose of the Cruciatus as he neared.
Finally thinking that he had the boy beaten, he leaned closer. He first planned on ripping the secrets the boy knew from his mind. To be able to cast such awesome Parseltongue spells (and that too without the aid of a wand) was great power. The knowledge would make him unbeatable. Then he would make the boy scream. Finally, after that, he would kill the brat.
Suddenly, with a burst of energy, Harry stabbed him in the stomach with another stiletto. He then fired off a wandless banishing curse with his other hand point blank, sending Voldemort flying.
Both the adversaries staggered to their feet. Their enhanced bodies sported numerous bruises and cuts, the accelerated healing being unable to cope with the rigours of battle.
Voldemort yanked the stiletto out. 'Another one?' he asked derisively. 'At the very least you could select a more suitable weapon instead of something that frail women use.' He tossed the dagger aside contemptuously with a sneer.
'True,' Harry replied, panting holding his side. 'But those were the only ones I could find with a hollow blade and goblin made. After all, nothing else,' he paused to take a breath, 'can withstand the effects of basilisk venom.' He gave Voldemort a blood stained grin of victory.
As if on cue, Voldemort could feel a burning sensation emanate from his back where he had first been stabbed. He staggered with the pain. His body had been working overtime to rid him of the venom while he had been embroiled in battle. The second stabbing had only increased the venom inside.
'Still,' he said straightening up and ignoring the pain in his stomach. 'That makes no difference. I cannot be killed, Potter!' The two combatants then started circling around, waiting for the other to make the next move.
Draco looked on with a hint of despair. Despite everything Potter had said, the Dark Lord seemed quite certain of his immortality. He glanced at Harry, wondering what his reluctant ally had to say.
The look of confusion on his face was mirrored by the one on the Dark Lord's face as they both wondered why the black haired wizard had stopped and stuck a finger into his ear.
A big grin slowly spread across Harry's face. As he started moving again (unconsciously mirrored by the Dark Lord) he said. 'So you cannot be killed, is it? Despite the fact that I destroyed five of your Horcruxes, you still are quite confident that you are immortal. That means … there is one more left! It's the snake, Nagini, isn't it?'
Seeing the look of dread momentarily steal across the Dark Lord's face, Harry laughed. 'Oh don't worry, I won't be rushing off to hunt it down …' he paused with a knowing grin on his face. 'After all, you didn't think I came in with just five people, did you?'
This time it was Voldemort who stopped in shock. 'Oh yeah,' Harry gloated. 'A party of six highly trained wizards has been tracking down your snake all this time while the six of us have been keeping you and yours busy. And as of five minutes ago, Nagini has ceased to exist.'
With a sense of disbelief, Voldemort saw Harry's eyes shift towards the now broken windows looking outside to the grounds. Turning his gaze there, he saw, with a stab of horror, six more of the masked invaders holding the head of his familiar aloft.
'You're mortal now!'
Voldemort was barely able to dodge the curse that accompanied the shout. Getting back to his feet, he reassessed his situation. The chances of victory now were slim. His Horcruxes were destroyed, his inner circle was gone and Potter was quite able to take him on with magic that was unknown to him. He had to regroup. Heal. Find more willing allies, make more precautions (he realised now that depending solely on Horcruxes was foolish) and then … he would come back. For he was Voldemort!
Draco watched with a mixture of disbelief, dread and joy as the Dark Lord sprinted towards the windows and took to the skies his robes flapping behind him as he neared the ward-line.
Disbelief soon took over the other two feelings when Harry followed suit, shedding his outer robe and summoning the goblin made knives on the way. The Dark Lord knowing something as awesome as being able to fly unassisted was one thing. That his schoolmate could do the same was staggering. Slowly getting to his feet, he moved towards the open windows, followed by his mother and the last standing member of Potter's incursion group.
They couldn't see much of the aerial battle, except for the flashes of spell fire that lit up the night sky.
Harry was quick to catch up to Voldemort. While the Dark Wizard had a head start, Harry was a natural flyer, knowing all about the nuances of flight thanks to the frequent times he had gone on his broom. He also was not hampered by the drag caused by bulky flapping robes as his armour was form fitting.
Grabbing an ankle, Harry swung the surprised older man down and away from the boundary of the anti-apparition set up around the grounds.
Voldemort's eyes widened in further surprise when he saw that Potter too could fly. Cornered, he brought his wand to bear and started firing curses indiscriminately, hoping to drive the boy far enough away so that he could escape. Hopefully he would be able to kill the brat. To conserve his waning strength, he stuck with cutting and banishing curses.
However Harry was not content to just hover. Twirling, twisting and diving, he dodged each and every curse while making sure that Voldemort could not escape. Using skills that proved why he was the youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a hundred years and the best the school had to offer, he circled Voldemort, slashing at the dark wizard with the poisoned knives as he passed the man by leaving behind an ever growing number of small cuts and nicks.
Soon, the poison from number of scratches and cuts dealt by the poisoned blades became too much for Voldemort to fight off. Defeated, the Dark Lord's body started shutting down, much to his terror.
Seeing his enemy sufficiently weakened, Harry went in for the kill. With both his hands, he cast a powerful banisher, putting as much of his strength as possible.
The force of the spell was enough to blast both the combatants in opposite directions.
Draco and the other spectators scattered as they noticed a figure come hurtling towards them.
The body impacted the ground forcefully, sending out a large plume of dust.
Moments later, the dust was cleared away by someone, revealing the figure of Harry Potter slowly descending. It was then that they realised that Voldemort was finally defeated.
'The venom finally got to him,' Harry said. 'He's one tough old sod.'
Slowly walking to the fallen form, Harry made a slashing gesture, separating the head from the rest of the body. Once that was done, the Boy Who Lived (and whatever ridiculous title the populace were sure to give him now) fainted next to the headless corpse of the darkest dark lord in modern history.
All over the nation, Death Eaters were looking in shock at their Dark Marks which, unlike before, did not fade, but disappeared altogether. People started snapping out of trances and the Imperius curses placed on many Ministry Officials fell.
By the time the sun rose a few hours later. Word had spread: Voldemort was defeated. He met his match once more at the hands of Harry Potter. And this time he was gone for good.
Vernon Dursley was rudely jerked awake. One look at his surroundings gave credence to the living nightmare he found himself in.
It had been two whole weeks since those people had come barging into their house. The three of them did not have much of a chance to react before they were shackled and taken to an unknown place.
From there, they were separated. Vernon had yet to see his wife and son. All he could see were the unfriendly faces of his guards who sneered at him, refusing to use his name and instead just calling him…
'On your feet, Muggle,'
Vernon did not even need the threat of a spell as the wand was enough to get him scrambling up. The last time he had tried being defiant had led to some painful results.
He had spent a whole hour demanding a lawyer and his release before the guard poked a wand at him, freezing him in place. He had felt each and every moment of the next few hours locked in position as the red-robed man leered at him.
As soon as Vernon was on his feet, the guard walked through the barred door. This unnerved him. It was not normal. Nothing about this place was normal.
As soon as the jailer got near him, Vernon saw his chance, lunging forward, he brought his hands up to strangle the man. Hopefully he would be able to wrest the wand away from the freak and escape this hellhole. He was a subject of the crown, dammit! These freaks had no right to hold him.
Suddenly, he crumpled in pain as agony passed from his thumbs up to the rest of his body.
His victim-to-be smirked. 'You thought those rings on your thumbs were pretty baubles, did you? Stupid Muggle,' He flicked his wand, sending Vernon flying into the fall behind him. 'Unruly aren't we? It looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson.' Turning around, he shouted out, 'Oi, we have a hostile one on our hands.'
Immediately, two more people walked through the door. 'Hey, inne the one who loves beating up children?' one of the newcomers, a large brutish man said.
'Yeah, this is the scumbag that's Potter's "Uncle".' His companion, a man with sharp birdlike features replied.
'Not Harry Potter?' Seeing nods, the large man became visibly angry. 'Harry Potter saved a lot of families twice over by takin' care of You Know Who. I don' like it when people mess with 'im.'
'Nor do I,' the birdlike man said. 'Thanks to Potter, my uncle's not forced to become a murderer.'
'Let's teach him a lesson, eh lads?'
The next few moments of Vernon's life were painful as he was hexed, cursed and jinxed.
'I think this is enough for now, lads.' The jailer said idly. He flicked his wand once, making the curse marks fade. 'Now that we've prettied you up, let's go, Muggle. You have a trial to attend to.' Another flick and Vernon was helplessly floating along as the three wizards followed him.
'Too bad we couldn't get one of the dementors to escort him. Where are they anyway?' The birdlike man asked.
'I dunno,' the large man shrugged. 'Oh well, this is you,' with that he and the birdlike man opened a large door.
Vernon looked around in terror as he was lead into a packed dungeon. He struggled as he was lead to a menacing chair with shackles and chains wrapped around it. As soon as he was thrown onto the chair, the restraints bound him down tightly.
'Sorry for the delay, my lords and ladies,' his guard said. 'But he was being uncooperative.'
Vernon did not hear that, he was too busy looking around him. He could not believe the number of that kind of people. A section of people to his left were writing on funny paper with funny feather pens. Reporters, he guessed. Another section to his right were whispering and gossiping as they looked at him now and then. What concerned him most was the group of people in front of him. They, like everybody else, were wearing those dresses. Only theirs were all a shade of purple that indicated a uniform. Vernon knew there and then that these were the judges.
Each and every one of those people was giving him a look of deepest loathing. A look he generally directed at the boy.
And speaking of which…
Vernon's piggy eyes narrowed as he saw the face of his hated wife's sister's son sitting there with a superior look on his face. Now bound and shackled to the wooden chair, sleep deprived, scared and terrified, he fell back to something familiar to him.
'Boy,' he growled. 'Come down and release me this instant or there will be hell to pay.'
In retrospect, Vernon realised that he should not have said that in such an environment.
'I would like the court to record the fact that the Muggle has threatened my person publicly as evidence for my case.' The boy said, standing up.
'Duly noted, Lord Potter,' a wizened old man said.
The form of address was enough to shock Vernon into silence.
'Vernon Dursley,' a strong-jawed wizard said. 'You have been charged with the following: Slander of a member of an Ancient and Noble House, Theft from an Ancient and Noble House, long term torture and multiple counts of attempted murder of a wizarding child, and, as of now, attacking an Auror and contempt of court.'
'You can't do this!' Vernon shouted out. 'I am a subject of The Crown! I know my rights! I want my lawyer!'
The entire dungeon, including the purple robed wizards laughed. Those seated on his right openly jeered, making rude gestures and calling him names he could only understand due to the tone that accompanied it.
'Order, order!' the speaker said, issuing bangs from his wand. As soon as the room had been quietened, he continued. 'We too are subjects of The Crown, Muggle.' He gestured behind him where everybody could see the Royal Cypher. 'And as it is one of ours that you have wronged, we get to try you. Her Majesty knows this and approves.
'Now as I was saying. The Court has seen the evidence and will be making its decision.'
Desperate, Vernon spoke out once more. 'Don't I get a say in this? What about my side of the story? I plead not guilty! I demand a fair trial!'
He shrank back as the gathering got vocally upset at his statement.
'Filthy Muggle!'
'How dare you make demands?'
'Off with his head!'
'Have him Kissed!'
'The Wizengamot would have heard your side of the story, Muggle,' the speaker said after he managed to quieten the room, 'If you had bothered to come in time. However, you are too late. Due to your lateness, you have been tried in absentia. Now the Wizengamot shall make its decision. Those in favour of conviction!' he roared.
Each and every one of the purple robed wizards raised a hand.
'Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?'
No hand went up. It was clear that the collective was unanimous in their decision.
'Vernon Dursley, you are hereby sentenced to spending the rest of your life in Azkaban. Your property and assets will be seized to pay the fines owed to the court and repay the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Dementors, take him.'
At this, the members of the public got to their feet and started clapping. The sound along with the looks on their faces leant an ominous air to the whole scene.
Vernon strained against his restraints as he shouted 'No!' over and over again. His protests were cut off by the entrance of the dementors.
The magic of the restraints that had been placed on him were enough to allow the hapless Muggle to see what was coming for him. He shrank back in terror as he spied the pair of monsters coming towards him.
Unbidden, the incident from two years back came to his mind. Petunia had spoken about them. They were the prison guards. The prison he was going to be spending the rest of his life in.
Nicholas Flamel smirked from his place in the Wizengamot. The conviction of the Muggle was the best thing to have happened to him and his cause. He knew that his fellow wizards and witches, no matter how tolerant and kind they were, had little regard for Muggles. It did not take much to turn them all into hating the Muggle. Especially with the proof that had been shown to them. While Vernon Dursley was not the first Muggle to be tried by the Wizengamot, he was the first to have been tried for such heinous crimes. Even Voldemort and the Death Eaters were not accused of that! Sure, they had killed children, but one could never accuse them of such crimes.
Nicholas could capitalise on this … He definitely should capitalise on this…
Severus Snape waited in the interrogation room for his visitor. Convincing the Aurors and the Minister to arrange this meeting was not easy. He hoped that this meeting turned out well.
The door opened to admit the person who he wanted to meet.
'Listen up, Potter,' Snape began without waiting for the boy to speak. 'I need your help. I have been a spy for Dumbledore. It was on his orders that I had to kill him.'
'Really?'
'Yes,' Severus replied impatiently. 'I have proof as well.' He really did not want it to come down to this. But that surprise attack had caught him off guard. Even though he had tried to escape, he and (he later found out) Wormtail had been caught. They, along with Selwyn were the only Death Eater survivors.
'Where is it, then?'
'I was getting to it,' Severus growled at the impertinent brat. 'It's located in my house in Spinner's End. There is a secret room behind the bookshelf. Now, since you obviously aren't too smart, let me spell out what we are going to do. Once my innocence is proven, I will be more than happy to never see your face again, Potter.' He gave the boy his best look of loathing.
'OK,' the boy replied after a long moment.
So Snape began to outline his plan. If things worked out the way he intended them to, he would be considered a hero. Then he could move into the place Albus had set aside for him and spend the rest of his life in peace as the world spoke of his name with the same reverence as they did of Potter.
'The accused wishes the use of Veritaserum.'
'Does he?' The court buzzed in the background as the Chief Warlock raised his eyebrows. 'I presume that the accused understands the risks involved? His statement under the serum will be considered to be the ultimate piece of evidence that shall decide his fate. Furthermore, he will not be able to retract whatever he said under the influence of the potion.'
'He does, Chief Warlock. The accused is confident that the serum will help uncover facts about the incident that will show the murder of Professor Dumbledore in a new light'
'Very well, does the accused wish to nominate his interrogator or shall the Wizengamot decide?'
'The accused wishes to nominate Harry Potter.'
The court murmured again. Not only had Snape called a boy who had yet to claim his seat, but he had also called the one person who had destroyed Voldemort and was rumoured to be very close to Dumbledore.
Snape calmly let the Auror administer three drops of the potion. The proof Dumbledore had arranged for him, regrettably, was inadmissible in the Wizengamot. But it was enough to convince the child. Dumbledore had assured him that Potter would do what was right, and that the prestige and influence he would wield would be enough to keep the former Potions master out of jail.
As soon as the last drop of the liquid disappeared in the man's throat, Harry began.
'What is your name?'
'Severus Tobias Snape.'
'Did you bear the Dark Mark?'
'Yes,'
'Did you serve the Dark Wizard known as Lord Voldemort at any point in your life?'
'Yes,'
'Were you the one who cast the Avada Kedavra at the wizard known as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?'
'Yes,'
'And this was after you heard that the Dark Lord Voldemort had ordered the death of the aforementioned wizard?'
'Yes,'
The court erupted in anger. Dumbledore clearly had many supporters and well-wishers in the long time he had lived.
'Describe that night for me,'
'I was in my study when Professor Filius Flitwick came rushing in squeaking about Death Eaters and an attack on Hogwarts.' Even though Snape's tone was monotonous, Harry could see a glimmer of worry in his eyes. 'Knowing what this meant, I asked him about the whereabouts of the attack. As soon as it was revealed to me that it was in the Astronomy Tower, I immediately Stunned Filius and headed there. I slipped past the combatants and crossed a ward that had been erected to prevent anyone not bearing the Dark Mark from entering. Ascending the stairs, I burst in on the Carrow siblings, Rowle, Yaxley, Greyback and Draco Malfoy surrounding Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked into my eyes and pleaded … he begged me to end his life. It was then that I cast the Killing Curse.' Harry thought he could see a look of triumph on the former Potions Professor. Too bad that the man did not know that Harry had seen the whole thing.
'Did Professor Dumbledore specifically say those words out loud?'
'No,'
'Oh? What did he say then?'
The worry had settled back in. 'He said, "Severus … please…".'
'No further questions, Chief Warlock.'
The Chief Warlock signalled the Auror to lead the drugged prisoner off to a holding cell to recover from the effects of the Serum.
While Veritaserum compelled a person to tell the truth, it had a major limitation that the questioner had to be very specific in wording his questions. Should they be worded differently, the answer could be far from the actual truth. It was one of the reasons that the potion was not used in trials without the explicit permission of the accused. It was also a fact that Severus Snape realised just as the last of the effects of the potion wore off.
'You foolish boy,' he snarled as soon as he saw Potter outside the bars of his cell. 'Did you not understand the proof that you found in my house? How moronic are you, boy?'
Harry waited patiently for Snape to finish and the Auror guard to leave. Once the door closed, he waved his hand and set up a few privacy wards. Turning to the greasy man, he smirked. 'What evidence would that be?'
'The phials of memory hidden in my house!' the older man snarled, gripping the bars of the cell, and pressing his face between them in his anger. It looked like he was trying to get out so that he could strangle the person on the other side.
'Yeah,' Harry drawled. 'While those memories are compelling, I, and well, you also, have to factor in the following: One, you are an Occlumens, and therefore, capable of modifying those memories. Two, even if those memories aren't yours, there is no proof that they were Albus Dumbledore's either. So they aren't really admissible as evidence. Especially seeing as I destroyed them. Three, even if I agree with that evidence, and I actually do, it does not necessarily mean that I will help you.' He smiled mockingly at the expression on the man's face. 'After all that crap you put me through for all those years, you really think that I would actually help keep you out of prison or prove your "innocence"? That I would, despite knowing the truth, help you?' He snorted. 'Wow, those potion fumes must have really messed with your mind!' Harry gave the man a look of deepest loathing.
'What, nothing to say?' he mocked. 'I am yet to hear one single comparison about how much like my father I am. That generally is your backup material when you don't have any other way to insult me. Kneazle got your tongue?'
As Severus looked at the young man standing in front of him an epiphany hit him.
'No,' he finally said. 'No, you aren't like your father at all.'
Looking at surprised expression of the person standing opposite him, he was even surer of his statement. 'James Potter would not have done something so … underhanded. He would not have been as petty and vengeful as …' he paused. In his mind, the words 'as me' rang out. For the first time, Snape realised that he was wrong to have held onto the past and been so petty and vengeful. That judging Harry Potter based on his memories of James Potter who was long dead, and vocally comparing the son to a dead man, sometimes even going to the extent of taunting and belittling that memory, was not right.
Severus closed his eyes as he realised that his behaviour towards Harry Potter could be compared to the way James Potter and friends had treated him. Only, the way he had acted was far worse, as at least James was his peer. Harry, on the other hand, was his student, and a child.
He was worse than a bully. Even if the lad was spoiled and an attention seeking brat, it did not excuse his behaviour.
'As petty and vengeful as you, you mean?' Harry's voice broke through his internal musing. Looking up, Severus could see a mocking smile on the teenager's face. 'Well, I did learn from the best, after all. You know, I once heard that the way an adult in a position of authority, like a parent or teacher, acts in front of a child, shapes how that individual will behave as an adult. I would suppose I would be more like James Potter, if he was alive. But unfortunately, he isn't. And we have you to thank for that. So … thanks for giving Voldemort the prophecy and causing the death of my parents.'
Severus was shocked. How had the boy learnt that bit of news? Albus would not have told him. He knew that much. Whatever his faults, the old man always kept the promises that he made.
'Oh and one more thing.' Brought back to the present, Severus focussed on the boy who was now at the entrance of the cellblock. 'The reason I originally came down to talk to you. The Wizengamot has made their decision. It's the Dementor's Kiss for you. You will be notified of the execution date an hour in advance. I believe that is the custom. Goodbye Snape! This is the last I'll see your greasy, hook nosed face again! And I always wanted to tell you this,' Harry took a deep breath. 'You are a petty, vengeful, immature, creepy, greasy, selfish, greedy, foul-mouthed, incompetent, imbecilic, biased, overgrown, bitter child in a man's body, forever trapped in the memories of your past and incapable of growing up.' Taking another breath, Harry continued in a normal tone. 'I hope you enjoy the first and only kiss that you will be getting in your life. Goodbye!'
Severus only heard the door slamming shut behind Harry Potter as he sank down on the floor.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone