Bab 263: 27
Chapter XXVII: Mission Start
(Michael P.O.V)
Michael leaned into his corner, watching as Harry paced the room. Michael's heart was heavy. It wasn't that he didn't understand Harry's anger; it was something he could at the very least sympathize with. But Draco's expression, his limply hanging body after Harry had left the pathetic snake's mind. It didn't sit well with anyone.
Rook, Michael thought to himself, his eyes never leaving Harry's form. If you keep going like this, you're not going to last long. His eyes shifted from Harry towards another surprisingly quiet figure. You're afraid of him right now, aren't you, Daphne? Angry, upset, irritated, there were a lot of expressions Michael had seen Daphne sent her best friend, but this was the first time he'd seen fear in her face.
Does she think he'll hurt her? Michael thought before shattering the thought, No, even if he completely lost his shit, I doubt Harry would ever truly hurt us. I mean, Astoria's still in one piece, that's got to count for something. He watched the way Harry's body trembled with the anger in his chest, Still, if you don't get a grip soon Rook, you're going to do something you'll regret, and no amount apologizing will be able to fix that.
The Room of Requirement's doors opened once more.A flock of Red-Heads now entering the room. Harry's eyes instantly zipped towards them, and Michael held his breath as he watched Tracey try her best to explain the situation. It only made sense to inform the Weasley's, after all, unlike the other S.P.I.R.E members, they were officially a part of the Order thanks to their parents.
"A Portkey?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed, "Exchange for Tonks?" It was clear that all the Weasley's seemed a bit less informed of what was going on then he'd first suspected. Then again, why would they know more, Harry thoroughly propped Draco's mind to the point the boy was made unconscious, and Draco didn't know that much about the exchange. "Do we know anything else?"
"No," Harry growled, holding up the note delivered alongside the hand, "All I know is that in a couple of hours, this thing is going to turn into a Portkey, and I'm going to get my sister back."
"By yourself?" Fred asked.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" George continued.
"You don't even know where that thing will take you, why would you go by yourself?" Ron muttered.
"It doesn't matter," Harry said, "Getting Tonks back is the only thing I care about. This thing could take me right into Voldemort's throne room, and I wouldn't care. I'm done waiting."
"You are aware that the Portkey is most likely going to be a trap, right?" Michael called out across the room. Harry nodded silently as Michael nodded, "Alright then, I might as well go grab my shit. I doubt this is going to as peaceful of an exchange as we'd all like once we get there." He yawned, "It may not be perfect, but some armor is better than nothing."
"You're going?" Harry said, his voice riddled with confusion.
"Of course I am," Michael said, "We all are." The room nodded in unison as Michael sighed, "You're walking on thin ice right now Rook, and part of me is worried you're going to crack any second, but I gave you my word that I'd fight with you, and I don't break my promises." He pushed himself off the wall walking towards Harry, the two now inches apart, "Whatever plan it is that you have, just try not to get us all killed."
"I'm going to need your help on that," Harry said, his quaking anger subsiding for a moment. "I'm not a pre-meditated plan kind of person, and honestly, right now I'm so angry that I can't even think straight. When I get there, wherever there is, I'm going straight for Tonks. If you are all insistent on coming, I need someone I can trust to lead when I can't." Michael groaned as Harry locked eyes with him, "I trust you, Michael, I need your help."
"Fine, but you're going to need to send Dobby to get my stuff," Michael said, his eyes never drifting from the raven-haired boy. He rubbed his fingers on his temples, watching as the elf quickly came and went, "This is going to be such a pain."
The room bubbled with tense silence as he closed his eyes. Dobby had come with equipment and sat comforting at Daphne's side. Something that Michael could only assume she desperately needed as Harry had distanced himself from the pack, both for his safety and theirs. Seconds passed like minutes, minutes like hours. Michael's head throbbed as he ran scenario after scenario.
No, because if we do this and they do that, it's a wrap. We need to keep this paring together due to- but if they do this- then what's our counter. If we go with plan A and they counter us, then plan B should go into effect, but if Plan B fails, what's plan C. Come on, think Michael, think. Claire's hand rested on his shoulder, relaxing his body as he watched each move take place on his mental chessboard. Not that it mattered much, he didn't even know the layout of the board; there wasn't much planning he could do with the information he had anyway. But that didn't matter now, they needed a plan, and the time was arriving quickly.
"Okay," Michael said as he opened his eyes, the morning light fading into the afternoon glow. "I have a plan." Harry stood rising from his hunched position for the first time in ours, the others falling in behind him. "Alright, here's the plan-,"
(Daphne P.O.V)
Daphne watched the shifting of the second hand on the Grandfather Clock. 11:58, now 11:59. She turned to Harry, hoping to see something in the boy's face that would give her some comfort, but was met with nothing but a blank look. Harry, Daphne thought to herself, Please come back to me. She felt a spark zip through her body as Astoria took her hand, "It's going to be fine, you know?" Astoria said, though her sister had hardly managed to fake the confidence that Harry could. "Michael's plan, it'll work. I know it."
Daphne nodded, catching Michael's eye as she whispered, "Dobby?"
Just as before, her elf popped to her side, "How can Dobby help Ms. Greeny?"
"You're going to be going with us somewhere. Once we get there, I want you to go to Grimmauld Place and bring the rest of the Order for back up. Okay?"
"Of course, Ms. Greeny. Dobby will wait with you now then." Daphne nodded as they passed the final thirty-second mark. Her heart had seemed to stop beating; her mind focused solely on fighting back the tremble in her legs at the thought of just how crazy what they were about to attempt was. Still, there was no going back now."
"Okay," Michael called out, "Everybody grab hold of Harry to the letter, and for the love of Merlin, please don't let go until I tell you." Daphne watched the blue-haired boy turn to face the clock once more, "It's showtime."
In the blink of an eye, the enlarged letter began to glow, before the group was thrown into a blue vortex. Violently, the spun. Had Daphne eaten, she was confident she'd have thrown up. For all the screaming that rattled through the vortex, however, Harry remained quite. The Boy-Who-Lived didn't even bother to look up from the letter. Harry was in a completely different world.
They landed with a groan, a bitter chill instantly overtaking their bodies as the sound of crashing waves filled their ears. Daphne's hands pressed up against the stone floor, forcing her to her feet as the grey sky above began to be encompassed by a light-blue bubble. "Is that-"
"An anti-apparition spell," Claire confirmed, watching as the blue surrounded them. "Look like Michael was right when he said it was a trap. They got us right where they want us."
"Dobby," Harry muttered, breaking his silence for the first time in what felt like forever, "Go deliver the information to Sirius."
Dobby nodded as he looked up at the sky. His body trembled, but no amount of snapping seemed to allow him to vanish. "Dobby can't apparate Mr. Harry Potter Sir. Dobby doesn't know why?"
"Hm," Harry said, watching as bubble full encompassed their force. "Looks like you really scared him last time, Kreacher. Now he's even prepping for House-Elf Magic."
"So we're on our own," Neville said, "That's not exactly great news."
"Bigger problem," Ron called out, as Daphne followed the redhead's gaze towards the jagged black stone fortress in their path. The top of the imposing walls cut through the darkened skies, and the sound of screams and maddening laughter ruptured through the walls. "This place is-"
"Azkaban," Astoria muttered.
"Hmm," Michael sighed, "Not a bad choice on their part." Daphne watched the Ravenclaw study the building. "The prison was already pretty short-handed on aurors after Harry and Daphne destroyed over half the dementors. The others fled to Voldemort's side when given the chance. If aurors were the only ones left manning the prison, waiting until midnight definitely gave the Death Eaters enough time to clean up what little resistance remained."
"The Death Eaters alone are strong enough to be a problem, but what kind of promises did they make to the residing inmates?" Michael's face turned hard as stone as he growled, "Our number of opponents may have increased significantly. If Tonks is really injured, getting out of here in one piece is slim at-"
"We're going to be fine," Astoria barked, "We managed to fend off a horde of werewolves and giants in one piece already, these are nothing but weakened criminals and thugs. There's no way we'll lose to people like that."
For all of her little sister's bravery, hardly anybody resonated with the belief. Regardless, Michael continued, "The divisions after we rescue Tonks will remain as follows. Harry's squad consists of; Daphne, Astoria, and Dobby. Tonks will join that party once she is retrieved."
"Nevile's group will be Hermione, Fred, and George." Neville nodded before Michael turned to Claire. "My team will be; Claire, Ron, Tracey, and Blaise. Both Neville's team and mine are going to be running interference. Buying enough time for Harry to channel enough of his magic into the Anti-Apparition spell to break it. Once that happens, we get the hell out of here."
"Does everyone remember the plan for the exchange? From what I predict, I don't think that we'll need to change that part." Michael called out. Daphne nodded alongside the rest of the students, "The mission objective is to retrieve Tonks and get out alive. Don't start fights if you can avoid them. I want everybody here at the breakfast table tomorrow, so watch each other's back, and please... try not to die."
The winds halted as Harry approached the black spiked gate, his palm outstretched. The coldness of Harry's stature made her core twist as with a growl; Harry pushed a jet of air from his palm, breaking the gate open. "Let's go," Harry said, not even bothering to take a look back as he broke open the final door and entered the foul prison.
Daphne's blood froze in her chest as the walls dripped a painted blood red. Her throat dried as she stepped over each discarded corpse that had been piled atop each other with no remorse. She reached her hand up to cover Astoria's eyes, but her sister pushed her hand away, taking in the view. The view so brutal Daphne hardly noticed the man that sat in the center of the first-floor on a transfigured, comfortable-looking, armchair.
"Crouch," Harry hissed. Barty Crouch Jr. rose from the chair with a twisted smile, licking his lips with satisfaction as he gazed upon the group of students. Yet, Harry remained still, his expression unchanged. "Where's my sister?"
"She's alive and in our care," Barty replied with equal coldness, "For now. Where's the Dark Lord's Prophecy."
"It's with me," Harry replied. Sweat beat down the back of Daphne's neck as she forced her calm facade to her face.
"Show me," Barty hissed.
"Not until you take me to see Tonks," Harry replied.
"You're not in a position to make demands, Potter," Crouch growled.
"I believe I am," Harry said, his demeanor unphased. "Within the Prophecy, there is the key to killing the Dark Lord, and I know it. You were there in the Graveyard; you saw how hard I fought to protect Cedric. If I really didn't have a way of killing Voldemort, do you think I'd have brought my friends along?"
"And I'm supposed to believe that you'd give up that knowledge to me so easily?" Crouch sneered.
"No, I expect you to believe that I'm someone willing to sacrifice a lot for the people I care about. Something that shouldn't be that hard to believe. But I promise you, should you kill Tonks and break the terms of our agreement, I will take great pleasure in ripping you and your lord to shreds."
Barty smirked, the sight forcing the hairs on the back of Daphne's neck to rise as the man turned. "Very well, Potter. Follow me; I'll take you to your sister. But try any funny stuff, to my fellow Death Eaters or me, and your sister's as good as dead."
"I'm not interested in any of you right now anyway," Harry said as he began to walk after the son of the former DMLE head, "I'm capable of killing all of you whenever I feel like after this is over. I don't need a sneak attack."
"Is that so," Barty said, as Daphne followed behind Harry, her boyfriend being led through a long and winding corridor. "If I recall correctly, you couldn't even hope to stand your ground against my Lord the last time you two dueled."
"Things have changed," Harry whispered, "I'm not the same person I was then." Daphne watched as Harry's eyes shifted in his sockets, "But speaking of Voldemort, he's not here, is he? I don't sense even a remotely unusual magical signature."
"No," Barty whispered, "The Dark Lord, he's on a more, delicate mission."
"What mission?" Harry asked, her boyfriend's composure making her feel uneasy.
"One of a sensitive nature," Barty replied, turning into another corridor, before embarking up another set of stairs. "And I'd advise against trying to probe my mind with legilimency, should I even detect the slightest foreign presence in my mind, I'll have my people kill Tonks before you even get to say goodbye."
Harry growled, but Daphne watched as the boy's expression shifted. Good Harry, she thought to herself, it's not worth the risk. Higher and higher, she followed her boyfriend and one of the Dark Lord's most faithful into the fortress. Imprisoned men hollered and called out to her, Hermione, Tracy, Astoria, and Claire as they passed, spewing the most raunchy of vulgarities.
Daphne hardly paid the words any mind; rather, she counted the imprisoned wizards. Each of them capable of destruction worthy enough to place them on level five of Azkaban. One hundred and ten, no, now one twenty, the number of possible opponents was beginning to feel absurdly large.
Michael and Neville each pulled their significant others closer to their sides, but Harry had shown not even the modest amount of concern for her or her sister as they marched deeper into the prison. Harry, are you even still in there. She swallowed hard as Harry and Barty came to a stop before a large chamber door. The warden's home.
The history books told of a Dark Wizard by the name of Ekrizdis, who founded Azkaban. Before its use as a prison, the vile island had been used as a torturer's playground. Ekrizdis had killed and tortured countless muggles here and somehow managed to sleep so soundly at night. Even with centuries passing, the room, it made her feel nauseous.
A snap of Crouch's fingers had opened the door, revealing a room decorated with chains and dripping with the aroma of blood. Though, in truth, the warden's room hadn't differed much from the new decor of Azkaban. Complete with another ten lifeless auror's corpses discarded on the ground.
"Proudfoot," Daphne's eyes sharpened at Harry's random name drop.
"What?" Daphne asked in confusion, finding the bleeding carcass that Harry's eyes had become fixed upon.
"His name is Richard Proudfoot," Harry whispered, "I never met him, but Tonks always talked about him. They were friends in the academy."
"They were indeed," Barty muttered as he licked his lips once more, "Even with her broken mind, the girl looked almost ready to cry as we tortured him to death in front of her. I almost thought that she hadn't completely cracked for a minute. After all, vegetables don't feel."
The gnashing of Harry's teeth had become audible to Daphne's ears, but the boy did his best to remain measured. "I won't ask again, Crouch, where's my sister?"
"Yes, yes, your sister," Crouch said, clapping as a group of Death Eaters appeared from the side room carrying Tonks' bruised and beaten body. "Always such a one-track mind with you."
Daphne shivered at the sight of Tonks' injuries. So many broken bones, and look at all those black spots. Internal Bleeding? She should be screaming in pain, but she's only mumbling? I can't even hear what she's saying. What the hell did they do to her head?
"Well," Crouch said, "You've seen your sister, and she's still alive. Which, considering the Dark Lord's policies, is pretty merciful. Now that you've seen her- show me what I want."
Daphne watched as Harry turned to Michael, the two sharing a nod as Harry pulled the small glowing orb from his pocket, enlarging it with a wave of his hand to its standard size. The blue mist swirled in its glass container as Harry took a step forward.
Crouch, had met his step, dragging Tonks behind him like she was a disobedient dog. One step, and then another, Daphne's heart felt ready to beat out of her chest. Slowly she lifted her wand alongside the rest of the group, matching the Death Eater's position. Harry grip on the prophecy tightened as he placed the sphere into Crouch's hand, Harry's hand breaking Crouch clasp of Tonks' torn clothing.
Here it comes, Daphne thought as Harry released his prophecy and pulled Tonks away, floating her wandlessly towards their side. "Now!" Harry shouted, slamming his foot down, creating a wall of the ever-burning flames between themselves and the Death Eaters.
"Switch!" Michael shouted, snapping, the Prophecy orb being replaced by a small boulder as Michael gripped the glass tossing it to Harry. Daphne watched as Harry caught the prophecy, conjuring a shield as he stepped back towards the group. "Perfect," Michael smirked.
"S.P.I.R.E!" Harry bellowed as he tossed the prophecy to the ground shattering the orb to dust. "Light the fuckers up!" The mission had begun.
(Voldemort P.O.V)
Verney stumbled as the beaten vampire guided him through the palace. Still, Verney's endurance only further served to solidify his decision. The foul beast was nothing more than a grunt in the ranks of the vampire's dominion, and a legilimency probe that would have killed an average wizard was shaken off by even a lowly vampire like him. As painful as it was to admit, the vampires would be far better allies than enemies.
The castle itself was incredibly well maintained, far more so than his putrid father's manor. Perhaps if things went well, he'd consider moving his forces here. No, he quickly killed the thought, the manor's position is far more beneficial. Plus, the decor of the castle only filled him with sickness as the same Gryffindor red seemed to be stitched into every fabric in the castle.
Voldemort quickly refocused his mind. If even a grunt could cause him a minor difficulty, he needed to be on his guard. Nothing had registered exactly as a threat, but he'd instantly realized there were far more powerful magical signatures littered through the castle. The majority of which stood behind the large wooden door he and Varney had stopped before.
Voldemort flared his magic, chilling the room around him. His power was absolute; it needed to be known. Verney bowed before the door, his head glued to the floor as he whispered, "Lady Sanguina, a visitor has arrived to speak with you. He has passed the test of merit. Will you allow him entrance?"
"Enter," The melodic voice of a woman called out. The doors swung open, and Voldemort found himself in the castle's great hall. Discarded bodies filled the floor, drained entirely of blood. With other muggles laying paralyzed upon the table, the vile creatures' fangs in their neck.
Voldemort pushed the grunt aside, stepping into the room unassisted. The yellow eyes of the woman locked with his as she rose from her throne. The woman pulled down her hood, revealing a river of flowing silver-hair. She was pale like fresh snow, and slim, her height perhaps only an inch or two taller than Bellatrix. But she walked in a manner that differed from one of his most loyal significantly. Bellatrix did everything for his approval, but this woman, if she could even be called one, walked with unquestionable authority. She walked like him.
She descended the steps of her throne, meeting him on level ground. "Lady Sanguina, why do you lower yourself to this mortal's level," her crowd of vampires bellowed. "He's just a lowly wizard. We can-"
"Silence," Sanguina whispered, "None of you would be capable of challenging a wizard of such power. I sensed your arrival the moment you set foot in Romania, you are the one they call Voldemort, are you not?"
"Lord Voldemort," He hissed, "It is only fair that we show each other proper respect during negotiations. Wouldn't you agree, Lady Carmilla?"
"I suppose," Carmilla whispered, "But I must say, I'm quite intrigued by what you have come to negotiate. We of the living dead share very little interest with you mortals. We have no interest in gold; we cannot eat your foods, we are not driven by lust, and few oppose our power. I do wonder what you have to offer?"
"I offer you dominance over Romania and power over Britain," Voldemort spoke. "I wish to create a world where wizards rule supreme, and the bastardization of magic comes to an end. Help me win victory of Britain, and I will ensure your people no longer need to live in the shadows. Do this, and I will have my soldiers burn Romania to the ground so you can create a civilization built upon your race's dominance. What I offer you is an alliance."
"Hmm, I must say the offer is tempting, but my people will only follow one of their own. We bow to no mortal; we bow only to the bloodline of the great Alucard. The blood which runs through my veins."
"Join me," Voldemort whispered, "And I will make you my second. You need only listen to my commands when rarely given, and you will be granted full reign over my armies for your own use."
"Unless you overrule me," Carmilla said with a smirk, "Your way with words is quite impressive. But I don't subscribe to covenants of words." The vampire summoned a knife to her hand. "For far too long, my people have lived in the shadows, cast aside by the Romanian Ministry; you offer us assistance to destroy the ministry after the completion of your war. It is indeed a tempting offer. We will join you on these conditions. I remain the sole ruler of Romania as you rule wizarding Britain. We will assist you in your cause, but as I said, my soldiers will only follow one of their own. They must have faith that their leader will stand equal to you."
"I have already offered you a place as my second," Voldemort growled.
"Yes, but I propose another safeguard," Carmilla said, cutting her thumb, allowing the blood to fall into a glass tube. "A union of our blood. From this combination, a child will be born, half of your bloodline, half of mine. That child would fulfill the condition of being of Alucard's blood while also remaining your rightful successor, and right hand."
A successor, Voldemort scoffed at the notion, only those who die need successors. This foul beast thinks far too highly of herself. But if what she is saying is true, then a child of Alucard's blood could be a powerful tool in the future. Yes, perhaps I will participate and secure the vampires' loyalty. And after the child is born, should Carmilla fall in combat, well, I suppose there is nothing that could be done about that.
"Very well," Voldemort hissed, taking the blade from Carmilla's hand, forcing the devious grin behind his stone-faced mask. "Let our alliance begin in earnest, now." He watched as the steam rose from the vile, his blood mixing with that of the living dead. Forgive me, Great Salazar, I am only doing what must be done to fulfill our legacy.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone