Chapter 17: Danse Macabre
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As Hermione lead him by the hand back inside the Great Hall, Harry wondered why had he been so scared to reveal his feelings in the first place. Now that they had gone through it… whatever the step that they had just taken was called… he realized that it was just the next natural phase in the evolution of their friendship.
They had already loved each other as only best friends could… now it was time to be in love.
Back inside the hall, Harry barely noticed that all the students had risen from their chairs and were now packed on the dance floor, looking ahead at the stage. The final performance was about to begin, and this was something apparently nobody wanted to miss. The five friends followed Ginny as she tried to find a spot big enough so they could sneak closer to the stage. It was proving to be quite the impossible task.
"About time you came! You've been gone for an hour!" Harry heard a voice called from somewhere to their right. He and Hermione looked simultaneously to find Roger approaching them.
"Sorry," said Hermione sheepishly, her cheeks showing a hint of pink that was not there before, "time flies."
"So I see," Roger replied with a playful grin, his eyes traveling from Harry and Hermione's intertwined hands to their swollen lips. "Especially when you are having fun." Patting a stunned Harry on the shoulder, Roger ribbed, "Damn it, Potter! When I told Mione you were bound to get your head out of your bum sooner or later and figure out she was the one, I didn't think it was going to be this fast!"
Oh, the calming effects of being happily in love… he didn't feel the need to break each and everyone of Roger's bones when he heard him call her by her pet name.
"Took him long enough," joked Hermione. Seeing the easiness with which those two treated each other, Harry knew he had underestimated the fact that Hermione could be good friends with others outside their circle. Roger indeed was her friend. "And speaking of fast…" she continued with a playful smirk, "How did it go with the Hufflepuff girls?"
"Already got two dates lined up," the Ravenclaw answered, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "It would be a shame if the fact that you broke my heart would stop me from spreading the love to all beautiful women out there."
"Have they played a song yet?" Luna casually interrupted, nodding toward the stage.
Roger shook his head tiredly. "No. They just got on stage … they are being a little too dramatic for my taste. They should just get on with it and stop with the drama. It's a band, not a theater troupe!" he shouted to no one in particular. Harry looked distractedly toward the stage. Three hooded figures stood there, their heads low, their backs to the audience, dressed in black cloaks that reached all the way to their ankles as an invisible chorus reached the middle verse of "Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi."
"Well, we might as well stay here," said Ginny grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing a very dirty look toward the packed dance floor, "there's no way we'll be able to squeeze in there."
"Don't worry, Ginny… I promise you front-row seats for their next concert," Neville offered with an easy smile. His girlfriend squealed, turned toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck and started to sway with the music.
"I'll be more than happy with last row seats if you can get a nice, dark corner where we can…" the little redhead trailed off, planting a small kiss on the corner of Neville's lips.
Neville blushed scarlet, but he didn't turn as red as Ron, who was fighting the urge to slap his sister's hands away from Neville, "For Merlin's sake, Ginny! Stop trying to corrupt him!"
"Your friends are insane," Roger said to Hermione in a matter-of-fact voice. Hermione just rolled her eyes in a "don't I know it" expression before she started to scan the crowd. Harry noticed the slight frown that appeared on her face while she continued her search of the place. Just when he was about to ask her if something was wrong, she spoke.
"Where are the professors?"
"They all left about ten minutes ago… apparently there was something wrong with the drinks, and they all had to follow Madam Pomfrey to the Infirmary… You should have seen Snape! His was no longer his ghastly shade of grey… he was downright green!"
"Lovely."
"Anyway, McGonagall said they were coming back later," Roger said absently, "So, do you take the right side and I'll take the left side?"
"Sure," answered Hermione, tightening her hold on Harry's hand. Harry squeezed back as he suppressed the urge to grin like a maniac; the fact that Hermione was going to work did not mean he couldn't steal a kiss or two.
"Alright," Roger nodded, "Just don't let me catch you neglecting your Head Girl duties because you've gone off to snog Potter." With a teasing wink, the Head Boy walked away.
"You know, Hermione?" I'm beginning to like the insufferable git," smirked Harry, wrapping his arms around her waist and bringing her closer, "although I say we risk his wrath and go spend some quality time on the hallway."
"Maybe later," Hermione purred, standing on tiptoe and letting her lips graze his cheek. When she pulled back, Harry bit his lower lip to fight the desire to kiss her again; her lips were already swollen and reddened from his previous kisses.
His kisses… just the idea of it felt like a dream… a wondrous dream he still had trouble believing had come true.
"But now, I want to see the show," she added, twisting around under his arms to face the stage. Harry tightened his hold on her, resting his chin on her shoulder, his head turned slightly so his nose grazed the crook of her neck, drowning in scents and sensations he was already addicted to.
He planted a small kiss on the exposed skin; she released a groan from deep within her throat. "You are distracting me, good sir," she whispered, resting her hands over his forearms.
"I can't help it… I don't have anything better to do," he answered, his lips traveling to her shoulder. He was determined to continue his ministrations until he felt a hard pinch in his arm. "Ouch! What was that for?" he complained, pouting childishly in a manner he hoped she found endearing.
Hermione looked at him over her shoulder and suggested, "Watch the performance." Then, giving him what he will from now on refer to as her naughty smile, she added, "We'll see what happens afterwards."
And with those kinds of promises of what was to come, Harry decided it wasn't such a bad idea to try and enjoy the show.
His eyes followed Hermione's to the stage, but what he saw was quite unexpected.
The three-cloaked figures were arranged like a pyramid, the two on the side a couple of feet behind the central figure, which was standing with its back to the crowd, the arms raised upwards by the time the song hit crescendo.
And there it was… hovering just above that figure - the prominent object of his dreams… his nightmares… for the last week.
The orb.
His scar burned. Images of what he had lived through for the last few days flashed before his eyes: the pulsing red sphere that swallowed the darkness, the gray cold mist, the voices, the red moon, the rain of blood, the earth that buried him, the globe that consumed him, the bodies of his friends hanging from the ceiling…
His love trapped in a spider's web.
Dead.
Firenze's words echoed in his head.
"It is a very powerful omen… what the heavens have decided to reveal to you, Harry."
His heart froze. And everything clicked into place.
They hadn't been nightmares.
They had been warnings.
"Something's wrong. We got to get out of here. We have to leave," he hurriedly whispered, desperately pushing Hermione away so he could search the pockets of his coat for his wand.
Hermione looked over her shoulder, a puzzled expression on her face. She immediately saw the fear behind his green eyes, and that was enough to provoke a tightening of her gut that she always associated with incoming trouble.
"Harry, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, helplessly watching as he desperately reached into his pockets and returned empty-handed.
"Where's my bloody wand?" he spat, keeping his eyes on the stage while thinking of the quickest way to reach the exit. He was sure he had slipped it into his pocket before coming to the ball. How could he have lost it?
"HARRY! WHAT IS GOING ON?" asked Hermione, scared. There had been many years since she had seen such panic reflected in his viridian eyes.
The music stopped.
There were no teachers to call for help, no swords to wield, no shields to protect and no wands to hex.
Survival instincts took over.
"Come on!" Harry hissed, taking her by the arm and stomping the opposite way, making a beeline toward the exit. There was no time to waste, no time to explain.
His priority was Hermione. After she was saved, he'll worry about everything else.
"Harry! Stop! What is it? What's going on!" his companion asked, struggling against his grip in an attempt to make him stop and calm down. What was going on in his head to make him so afraid?
"Hey! Where are you two going? The party's just started!"
Harry recognized Ron's voice, but didn't lose momentum in trying to explain. Hermione, however, had a different idea.
"Ron! Something's wrong with Harry!" she said, trying to look back at her friend while her boyfriend continued to pull her arm on the opposite direction.
Ron shared a puzzled look with his sister, and both grabbed their respective dates' hands and started running after them.
"What do you mean something's wrong with Harry? What's going on?" asked Ginny worriedly when the four of them reached Hermione.
"He's not explain…"
"THERE'S NO TIME!" Harry finally reacted. He stopped for just one moment, his voice barely above a whisper, and said, "I've seen this, Hermione… that… that sphere… is trouble…"
They had reached the doors. He had just to push it and lead her outside, and she'll be saved.
Or so he thought.
There was a loud squelching sound.
He may not be the brightest bloke at Hogwarts, but he knew enough to know what that sound meant.
A part of him refused to believe it though - that same part that made him think that he could actually change what the future had in store for him. Stubbornly, he pushed at the door, first with his hand and then with his entire body, swallowing the screams he wanted to release.
It was to no avail; they had been magically locked in.
It was only then that he heard her…
She was laughing.
And her laughter didn't fail to provoke in him the same feelings that had arose in him the first time he had heard her laugh.
Fury. Repugnance. Hatred. Terror.
Harry, Hermione and the rest of their friends turned around at the same time, all looking for the source of the laughter and praying to be wrong.
They looked at the stage just in time to see the lead singer lowering her arms while turning around, and finally lifting the hood from her face.
The students gathered in the dance floor gasped in horror, also recognizing the woman standing there.
After all, who could forget the face of one Bellatrix Lestrange?
"Where is everybody going? The party has just begun."
There was no mistaking the wand she was twirling in her bony hand, nor the fact that, once her two companions lifted their hoods, her two favorite partners in crime, her husband Rodolphus, and her brother-in-law, Rabastan, were revealed.
"Trick or treat"
It was pandemonium.
The students that had been packing the dance floor started running toward the doors, trampling over one another like cattle; the musicians also jumped from the stage, heading for the exit. The three Death Eaters just laughed at them.
The coldness that had started in his stomach had spread to his very flesh and bone. He pulled Hermione to him violently and whispered in her ear, "Do you have your wand with you?"
"No," she answered breathlessly, "I couldn't… with this dress… Ron?"
"I don't even have pockets! I'm a walking carpet!" replied Ron, doing the very chivalrous but completely pointless act of putting himself between Luna and the stage. "Anybody else?"
The others shook their collective heads. Bellatrix and her gang had definitely caught them with their pants down. "Where's yours, Harry?" asked Luna.
"I know I took it with me, but I can't find it!" replied Harry. The students were now brushing past them, trying to push the doors with their hands or throwing their full weight on it. Like fishes trapped in a net, they pushed and pulled, fighting to escape, refusing to accept their fate.
"Can't we accio our wands?" Neville suggested. Harry didn't registered the fact that Neville's voice was the only one not trembling, and if he had been of sound mind to look at his friend, he would have seen quite a different man.
"That's not going to work," Hermione went on to explain, "The spell that sealed the doors… it was an imperturbable charm. It's sealed the entire room. No one and nothing can get in our out until it wears off."
Harry could barely hear her above the screams and cries of the students around them, who were feeding off each other's panic.
"SILENCE!"
Bellatrix hadn't used a spell, but her command was as effective as any enchantment, for an unnatural silence fell on the hall. Screams became hushes, cries nothing above shallow breathing. Some already understood that escape was impossible unless the devil herself granted it.
The cold, dead eyes of the Death Eater scanned the room slowly and purposely, until they finally settled on Harry. She then smiled that easy smile people share over tea and biscuits and said, "Nobody is going to get hurt as long as they stay out of the way. I want one thing and only one thing. And I intend to get it."
"What is it you want?" a voice from somewhere on the far left asked. Everybody turned to look at however had dared to raise his voice, and Harry was the first one to be surprised by the fact that it had been Roger. He was staring at Bellatrix defiantly, like only someone who had never had the displeasure of crossing her path could.
"Oh, my dear, I thought it was obvious," she answered, now smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. She then raised a bony finger toward the door and added, "I. want. Him."
You didn't have to be rocket scientist to know she had come to settle an old score with one Harry James Potter.
"Ron," whispered Harry urgently, "Take care of Hermione for me. Make sure she's…!"
"NO! You are NOT going to her!" hissed Hermione, grabbing him by the arms with such strength she was sure to leave a mark. For a second, he allowed himself to get lost in those beautiful eyes, wanting nothing more than to tell her everything was going to be okay, that this was just another nightmare, and that as soon as he woke up everything was going back to normal.
It would, of course, be a lie.
"She's got the upper hand, Mione," said Harry, cupping her cheek tenderly even amidst the bleak situation, "I got to play by her rules." Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Crabbe stand behind Ron and Goyle doing the same with Neville. The difference between them was that Crabbe and Goyle had their wands out and at the ready, and Ron and Neville were unarmed.
"Move it, Potter."
The voice which belonged to Draco Malfoy came from somewhere behind him. Harry slowly turned his head around to look at the Slytherin over his shoulder. "You," he hissed.
"I told you to stay away. Didn't I, Potty?" whispered Malfoy, his gray eyes filled with an emotion Harry had never seen before in his nemesis' eyes. Without the slightest hint of amusement, he continued, "She only wants you… as long as your mudblood and the others stay out of the way, they'll be safe."
Hermione hugged Harry by the waist and buried her face in his chest, mumbling over and over again, "Harry, please… don't… please… don't…"
"Draco…" Bellatrix called in a sing-song voice that was anything but friendly, "I don't have all night. Bring. him. here."
"You heard her, Potter. Move!" Malfoy spat, prodding Harry's back with his wand.
"Hermione," whispered Harry softly, "I got to do this." He raised her head gently with his hands and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. "Just stay out of the way..." he continued, kissing her lips tenderly, "It'll be okay."
"NOBODY IS GOING ANYWHERE!"
Harry let go of Hermione and turned around, only to realize that the Head Boy had managed to sneak behind Malfoy and now was pressing the tip of his wand to the back of Malfoy's head. Without taking his eyes off the Slytherin, Roger addressed Bellatrix, "Relinquish your wands or your nephew gets it."
The only reply he received was a loud chuckle.
"I am serious! Relinquish your wands or else!" screamed Roger. Harry didn't know if the others could tell, but Roger's resolve was diminishing by the second with the realization he was in way over his head.
"Really? What are you planning to do, little boy? Stun him? He'll wake up to find you dead. Bind him? Maybe cast an Unforgivable on him? Oh… that I'll love to see…" Bellatrix said with morbid curiosity. Positively giddy with glee, she finished, "Do it."
Malfoy was breathing hard, anger etched clearly in his face, but he had not lowered the wand pointing at Harry's chest. Roger's arm began to tremble as he pushed his wand harder against Malfoy's skull, trying to convey his seriousness.
"Do it."
"Crucio…" Roger mumbled between clenched teeth. As was expected, nothing happened. He pressed the tip of his wand even harder against Malfoy's scalp and repeated more forcefully, "Crucio." Nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, his blue eyes blazing, he screamed, "CRUCIO!"
And again, nothing happened.
"Boys…" Bellatrix said, turning her head slightly toward the two Death Eaters that accompanied her tonight, "let's show him how it's done."
"CRUCIO!"
Three distinct rays of light traveled from the Death Eater's wands and converged just before hitting Roger, sending him flying to one side, screaming all the way before his body collided face-first against the edge of one of the tables. His body fell near Seamus and Lavender, who started whimpering "He's dead… he's dead… he's dead…" as she buried her face on Seamus chest.
"Anybody who decides to play the hero will have the same fate befall on him," Rodolphus announced with eerie calmness.
Harry had thought it was not possible to hate Bellatrix more than he had grown to hate her after what she did to Sirius.
He was wrong.
Hermione's eyes were frozen in an expression of incredulity, fixed on the general direction of Roger's body, unable to see him but already fearing the worst. She was trembling from head to toe, her lips parted with her shallow breathing, and was too stunned to realize Harry had disentangled himself from her arms until he started to walk away. "HARRY! NO!" she screamed, running towards him. She had not taken two steps before Goyle released a vicious punch to her stomach that sent her to the floor, gasping for air.
Harry roared, turning around with the sole intention of pounding Goyle into a bloody pulp. And he would have if it hadn't been for Malfoy, who now pointed his wand at Hermione and whispered, "Don't give us an excuse, Potter."
Hermione's lungs were still burning for oxygen when she felt Ron's hands grabbed her by the arms. He pulled her up, resting her body on his as he whispered against her ear, "We'll find a way to help him…we'll find a way."
"Is she okay, Ron?" Harry asked, his eyes jumping from Malfoy to Goyle and back. If he got out of this alive, these two were going to pay dearly.
"I'm fine," Hermione answered breathlessly, staring straight at Malfoy's unwavering wand. Mentally promising that he was going to torture Goyle for laying a hand on Hermione, Harry turned around and continued to walk toward the stage.
He wondered at the expression on his fellow students' faces as they parted in front of him, making way for him to reach the stage. Some were surprised, others were terrified, others were sad, defeated, others were angry, and others… others looked at Harry as if he was already a dead man.
He was halfway toward the stage when he suddenly heard Dean's voice break the silence.
"He's alive! He's still alive!"
Harry stood still and, speaking directly to Bellatrix, said, "Let somebody help him."
Bellatrix's eyes slanted angrily as she hissed, "You are in no position to make demands, half-blood."
"I am if you don't want me to cause any trouble," he replied, sounding a lot more collected than he felt.
Bellatrix looked visibly ill at the proposal, but finally nodded her head slightly. On the next instant, Harry heard Malfoy's voice say, "You… help him." Looking over his shoulder, he watched as Hermione cut her way amidst the students toward Roger, followed by Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna, with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle close behind.
"Don't keep me waiting, little Harry," commanded Bellatrix, "Draco, keep an eye on Potter's friends."
And Harry went on his way.
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Hermione and Ginny crouched next to the body, one on each side of the Head Boy. Dean had been right; Roger was still alive.
His body was twisted in an impossible position; one of his legs was trapped under him, his left arm jerking in an automated bodily response. A soft gurgling sound emerged from his throat with every rise and fall of his chest.
Having learned first aid at the behest of her father, Hermione measured his pulse. She quickly realized he was getting weaker by the second.
"We're losing him," whimpered Ginny.
"Ron, Neville… straighten him."
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Harry slowly walked up the stairs to the stage. He needed to time to think, to try to form an escape plan.
He was coming up with nothing.
With each heavy step he found it more difficult to breath as a heavy weight took residence on his chest and refused to leave. He stripped off the mask that partially covered his face in an attempt to shake that horribly oppressing feeling, but it just got worse.
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Hermione lowered her ear until it hovered over Roger's lips. She could hear the horrible gurgling sound louder this time. Careful not to move his head for fear of worsening his injuries, she searched his wounded body, until she noticed a purple mark about an inch thick in the right side of his neck. It suddenly became clear to her what was so wrong with Roger.
"His windpipe is crushed," she explained, "we need to open up a passageway or he'll suffocate."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Ron asked, looking down at the Ravenclaw with pity. He and the others were kneeling around the body, while Malfoy and his goons made a wider circle around them.
"I need a knife," confirmed Hermione while Ginny and Luna struggled to get Roger's costume chest plate off him.
"Use this."
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Harry reached the landing without any idea of what his next step should be. He was unarmed, outnumbered and defenseless. It seemed that the only thing they could do was to play Lestrange's game until the Calvary arrives.
He could see Bellatrix much more clearly now… that black stringy hair, that ghostly pale skin, those taut cheeks, those hollow eyes, those bloodless lips curled in a perpetual sneer…
How he hated her… how he hated her for what she was and for what she had done.
It was only then that Harry noticed that she didn't have one wand, but two, and that the one in her left hand was an eleven-inch holly wand with a phoenix feather core.
His wand.
"Courtesy of Vincent Goyle," Bellatrix said, twirling Harry's wand in the air, "who's proven to be slightly more resourceful than his father… not that that says a lot."
He remembered how Goyle had bumped into him while he was dancing with Hermione earlier in the evening. The slimy son-of-a-bitch must have pick pocketed his wand then.
Bellatrix made a dramatic wave on the air with her wand, and a chair appeared in the middle of the stage, just below the hovering orb. But it wasn't like the other chairs found in the Great Hall, for it was metal, with thick leather straps in the front legs, the arms and on the top, secured with strong steel buckles. In fact, at any other time, the chair would have reminded him of the electric chairs used in old prison movies to fry muggles.
"You are the guest of honor in our little party," said Bellatrix in a low whisper, "so we saved you the best seat in the house."
Things were taking a turn for the worst.
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Hermione was looking over her shoulder at the object Draco Malfoy was offering her. It was a silver dagger. She couldn't believe what she was seeing; the same guy that had conspired to bring the Death Eaters into the castle and capture Harry, the same sadist who had not let one opportunity to torture her and her friends go by, was the same person offering to help.
"Why are you doing this?" Hermione hissed, anger blazing in her eyes. Was this another one of his games? How dared he play with Roger's life! With all of their lives!
"Look, mudblood," sneered Draco, "do you want to save him or not?" Without waiting for answer, he threw the blade in her direction.
She caught it in midair and, not wanting to waste another second, turned toward Ron and said, "I need a tube."
"A tube?"
"Yes… something narrow, but with a hollow center… like a straw, or a…"
"Got it," Ron nodded and stood up. Ignoring Crabbe's order to stand still, he ran directly to the table with the Honeydukes sweets, picked a caramel lollipop, and ran back, biting into the candy until only the small plastic tube remained.
"Good idea," Hermione whispered with as much pride as she could muster in the bleak situation when Ron handed her the tube. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to reassure herself that this was the only way.
Opening her eyes and looking down at Roger, Hermione continued to say, "Luna, I need you to hold Roger's head still … Neville, Ron… you two take the arms… make sure he doesn't move an inch. Ginny, hold this." She handed Ginny the small tube while the others move into position.
"I'm sorry, Roger," she said as she unsheathed Malfoy's knife, "but this is the only way." Ignoring the fear and trepidation she felt, she pressed the tip of the knife against the hollow of Roger's throat and pushed. The blade broke through skin and flesh until blood spurted from the open wound.
"Ginny!" she called. The shaky Ginny immediately handed the tube to her friend, who plunged the tube into the wound. There was a distinct hissing sound, and she tentatively reached with her fingers to the top of the hollow tube, and sighed in relief when she confirmed that air was coming in and out of Roger's lungs.
But she knew it was too early to call victory; Roger needed to get to St. Mungo's and he needed to get there fast.
She looked over her shoulder at Malfoy, who was looking at Roger's wound with a mixture of disgust and awe, and said, "He needs professional medical attention. If you plan to keep us here for long, you'll have to find a way to sent him to St. Mungo's."
"Don't worry, Granger" replied Malfoy, nodding toward the stage. "This won't take long."
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It was ironic that, while Rodolphus and Rabastan were fastening the leather straps to his arms, his legs and his head, Harry was thinking about how in the world the most magical day of his life could have disintegrated into this. Couldn't destiny allow him just one night of true happiness?
Of their own accord, his thoughts went back to the image from his dreams - Hermione trapped in the terrible spider's web.
He was the one now who was trapped in Bellatrix's clutches. Why was Hermione the central figure in his dream? Why was she the one in danger?
Did it have something to do with the awareness of his feelings for her?
Or was there something else… something far more terrible?
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"We've done everything we can for Roger," whispered Hermione to her companions, "the question is: what are we going to do for Harry?"
They were huddled over the Head Boy's body. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were so distracted by Bellatrix's show they didn't seem to be paying any attention to them. The knife lay on the floor next to Roger's head, forgotten by both its owner and the girl that had used it to save a life.
"We can't do anything without wands," Neville replied, not a trace of fear in his dark eyes.
An anxious Ginny started to say, "Why don't we wait for the professors to come? Maybe the Order has already been…"
"They have no way of knowing something's wrong," answered Hermione. "Dumbledore's out of the castle, the rest of the teachers are sick and in the infirmary… possibly poisoned by Bellatrix… and thinking we are just enjoying the last musical act of the night." Her voice trembling slightly, she finished, "let's face it… we are on our own."
"There's no other way," Ron finally spoke, his eyes locking with those of his best friend, "we have to wait for the chance to take their wands from them."
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"Do you know why you are here, little Harry?" asked Bellatrix in a tone that indicated she actually expected him to answer that.
"I assumed it was because of my animal magnetism," Harry replied dryly, his mind momentarily distracted by the insignificant way the metal buckle dig into his forehead.
"I wouldn't be joking if I were you," responded Bellatrix, "In fact, if I was you, I would start begging… right about now."
She smiled. He didn't.
Slowly, almost languidly, the tall woman started to walk in circles around Harry and continued, "You've been a thorn in the Dark Lord's side since you were born. By some twisted stroke of luck, you almost destroyed him when you were just an itsy-bitsy boy." Her smile grew, her voice heady with pleasure, "But now, the Dark Lord is back, more powerful than ever he was, ready to bring noble Salazar's utopia to life, where mudbloods and their supporters alike will join their beloved muggles in taking their rightful place in the world… as our slaves."
It played like a scene from a bad movie, where the enemy revealed his villainous plan, giving the hero enough time to devise a masterful plan to stop the nemesis.
But this was no movie, and Harry was no hero. He didn't have a masterful plan to stop her, and he doubted there was a happy ending in store for him.
"And I'm here to make sure history doesn't repeat itself," Bellatrix finished.
"I've gathered from this little rant that Voldemort sent you to kill me."
"How dare you say his name!" screamed Bellatrix, taking a step toward him and lowering her head so her face was barely an inch away from his.
He saw many things behind those dark eyes: intelligence, power, devotion, madness… and evil.
He quietly answered, "I don't fear him."
"You should," she hissed. It seemed to take a lot of willpower to restrain herself, but she finally took a deep breath and a step back before continuing, "But to answer your question… no, he didn't send me to kill you."
"How generous of him," Harry sarcastically mumbled.
"You should know by now, young Potter… there are things far worse than death." Looking up at the object hovering above their heads, she asked, "Do you know what that is?"
He thought of asking if it was the latest fashion craze for paranoid psychotic witches, but decided it was wiser to keep his mouth shut.
"You should consider yourself lucky," continued Bellatrix, her voice filled with icy wonder. "Not many have stood in the presence of the Carcer Lamentatio Anima.
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Ron knew there was something very bad about that thing when he heard Hermione and Luna gasp simultaneously. "What?"
"Do you know what that is?" asked Luna, pointing at the sphere floating over Harry's head.
"I wouldn't ask if I knew!"
"The Carcer Lamentatio Anima…" Hermione whispered with unmistakable fear in her voice, "the Orb of the Wailing Souls."
Harry… her Harry… dear Lord, this was not happening! It couldn't be happening!
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"I'm afraid the dramatic revelation has been lost on me," Harry countered, annoyed at the delighted look on the Death Eaters' face.
"Don't worry…" cooed Bellatrix, reaching up with her hand and tracing one of her nails over Harry's scar, "you'll find out soon enough."
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"That… that thing exists?" Neville asked in a whisper.
"Can someone please tell me what the fuck it means?" Ron hissed, annoyed that everyone seemed to know the answer but him.
"When wizards die, their souls… their anima… transcends," Luna started to explain, "But some… some choose to remain behind… and they become ghosts."
Ginny hurried, "Skip the part we already know, Luna"
"But what you don't know," the Ravenclaw continued, "is that some have no choice but to remain behind. They are those wizards whose anger and rage and hatred and pain at the moment of death were so strong that it could not be vanquished. Those are the damned… wraiths whose only pleasure is to inflict suffering upon the living."
"And you are saying that, because…" Ron pressed, not really liking where this metaphysical trip was taken them.
"Because, according to popular legend, the Dark Wizard Grindewald found a way to imprison the souls of the thousands that fell prey to his hand". Looking up at the orb now reflected in her pale blue eyes, she finished, "That's what the Carcer Lamentatio Anima is… a prison for the damned."
-----------------------------------------------------
"Bellatrix," Rodolphus decided to interrupt his wife's contemplations, "the sealing spell… it - won't last for much…"
"I know that!" she turned around to face him, furious, "Don't ruin this for me!" Outstretching her hand toward her brother-in-law, she called "Rabastan!"
Her follower reached into the pocket of his black robes and pulled out a dark knife made out of obsidian stone.
Eyeing the knife that appeared on the periphery of his vision, Harry said, "I thought you said you weren't going to kill me."
"I'm will not," Bellatrix said, looking at him with glee, "but I can't answer for my guests"
"But… how? Why?" Ginny groaned.
"And what is she going to do to Harry with it?" Neville added.
Not so surprisingly, it was Hermione who answered. "They say the souls answer to the call of blood. If they are summoned and blood is shed, then they will swallow their victim… ending with the sacrificed becoming wraiths too."
"I thought it was a myth," Neville said, shaking his head as if to clear his mind from the insanity around him.
"You thought wrong," said Hermione before she turned to Ron and added, "We have to act now!"
Ron was thinking along the same lines, "Okay, here's what we'll do… Ginny, Hermione, you take Malfoy. Neville, Luna… Crabbe… I'll take Goyle. Wait for my signal."
-----------------------------------------------------
Bellatrix raised the knife over her head, prompting Harry to watch with a mixture of anxiety and detachment how the tip of the blade touched the hovering orb. To his amazement, the material of the sphere gave in slightly, and he absently realized it was not made of crystal, but of an organic membrane, like the wings of a bat. It began to pulse when Bellatrix lowered the blade.
It was only then that he realized that that thing was alive.
"How does it feel, little Harry?" Bellatrix whispered with that smile that could send shivers down a dead man's spine, "How does it feel that - after 17 years of miserable existence - you will finally reunite with your mummy and daddy?"
Securing the knife with one bony hand, she reached down and violently tore open his jacket and dress shirt, exposing his chest and stomach to her assailing eyes. A look that could only be described as filled with lustful perversion appeared on her face.
"My… my… what a shame," she whispered, letting one of her hands rest on his stomach and raking her nails over his tense muscles. "This is such a waste on a half-blood."
Somewhere in the back of his awareness he made the connection to Hermione, and how her nails had felt on his skin. The sensations occupied the absolute opposites in the spectrum of emotions, for what once had consumed him with desire and longing, now sickened and repulsed him.
He wanted to make Bellatrix feel as defiled as he did.
Harry spit directly to her face; the gooey spit landing just above her right eyebrow. Her obscene smile twisted into a sneer that would put her nephew's to shame.
"You fool," she spat. "I'll show you what happens to naughty little boys."
And with that, the knife started to come down.
-----------------------------------------------------
Bellatrix and her knife had captured Malfoy and his companions' undivided attention, and there was no better time for an offensive than the present.
"NOW!"
It all happened in a flash. Before the Death Eaters knew what was going on, Neville had grabbed Crabbe in a painful headlock, allowing Luna to punch him in the stomach before yanking his wand out of his hand. Ron did the same with Goyle, hitting the young man squarely on the back of his head and sending him face first to the floor, unconscious.
By now, Malfoy had turned toward them and was pointing his wand straight at Hermione, but a vicious tackle coming from Ginny knocked him down. Hermione kicked the wand out of his hand and lunged for it, quickly grabbing it before twisting on the floor and pointing it at the stage.
"INCARCEROUS!"
"STUPEFY!"
"PETRIFICUS TOTALLUS!"
Three different spells shot out of their wands and traveled in an instant toward the stage. Ron's ray hit Rabastan, who was soon tightly wrapped in ropes. The Death Eater lost his balance, and fell to the floor with a muffled thud. Rodolphus was luckier, for he ducked behind a set of drums. The musical instrument was obliterated by Luna's hex, but Lestrange remained unscathed.
Of the three followers of Voldemort, it was Bellatrix that reacted as only the Dark Lord's favorite child could. Before Hermione's spell could hit her, she yelled "Protego!" and a blue magical shield appeared in front of her. The Gryffindor's spell hit the shield, and just as soon Bellatrix countered with a Crucio.
Harry screamed as he watched the spell hit his girl on the chest. She fell on her knees on the floor, screaming and writhing in pain, the wand she had clutched tightly in her hand now sliding to the floor, forgotten. "NO! STOP!" he screamed, feeling more useless than ever before as he watched Malfoy reclaim his wand.
"Hermione!" Ron yelled, readying his wand to attack Bellatrix. He didn't notice that Rodolphus already had Luna in his sights, until he heard his counter spell. Luna's wand quickly flew through the air and landed right in Lestrange's hand.
Bellatrix proved to be faster than Ron, for she yelled "INCARCEROUS!" and hit the redhead before he could attack her. Like Rabastan before him, thick tendrils of rope covered from feet to neck, like an artificial cocoon. Neville and Goyle made a simultaneous run for Ron's discarded wand, but Crabbe thwarted Neville's plan when he met him halfway, delivering a nasty kick to his knee.
"You stupid, stupid children!" Bellatrix hissed, glaring at the students in the hall with such malice that it was enough to make them all fall back toward the doors. Meanwhile, Rodolphus freed his brother from the binding spell. "I told you to behave!" she shrilled, "Why couldn't you just be good for once? You need to be punished! DRACO!"
"Yes?" Malfoy answered in a low voice, his wand trained on the kneeling Hermione. His voice sounded detached, even for him, as if he had decided to emotionally distance himself from the events around him.
"You know… you are the first one that deserves to be punished… you were told to keep the students away, and you failed… The Dark Lord will be very unhappy with your performance… I'll leave your punishment to Him," said Bellatrix, sounding criminally joyous about the prospect of Malfoy's punishment. "Now, let's move on… that little dog at your feet… is that Potter's friend? The mudblood?" she asked of him.
Draco nodded in reply. His expression was twisted with obvious rage, but at whom he was angry at was not something that was evident at the moment. Luna tried to get near Hermione, who was moaning pitifully, until Goyle pointed his wand at her, and she backtracked, choosing to kneel next to Ron. She trade glances with Ginny, who was struggling to help Neville to his feet.
Bellatrix now turned her attention back to her captive.
"Do you care about her?" she asked Harry. He tried to keep his expression blank, his eyes unemotional as he attempted to recall all he had learned from Snape's Occlumency lessons. He knew that it would be a huge mistake to show this woman how much he really cared about his best friend.
But it was all in vain. "Oh!" The corners of Bellatrix's mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. "Don't bother to answer… I can see it in your eyes. You just don't care about her…" Her eyebrow arched with something close to surprise as she finished, "You love her."
As if things hadn't been bad enough, Bellatrix had found his Achilles' heel.
"And we all know what happens to the people you love, little Potter." Bellatrix added. With that, she trade knowing glances with Rodolphus and Rabastan, prompting the three of them to raise their wands and point them straight at Hermione.
"LEAVE HER AL…!"
"CRUCIO!"
"CRUCIO!"
"CRUCIO!"
One after another, Hermione was hit by the cruel spells of the devilish trio. She screamed from the sheer agony, but her cries were mixed with the screaming of Harry, Ron and her friends, who were unable to do anything but watch in horror as Hermione fell on the floor, twisting and turning, trying to fight against the unbearable pain that was now cursing through every limb and every organ and every cell of her body.
"STOP IT! STOP IT! YOU ARE GOING TO KILL HER!"
Harry screamed over and over again, but no one seemed to hear him. He struggled against his bindings, feeling as the material cut through the skin in his wrists and his legs. Blood trailed from his wounds as tears trailed down his cheeks.
He felt like he had felt on his dream, as if he was drowning, and the earth was swallowing his screams and cries for help. He called for anyone and everyone: Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, Buddah, Jesus, God… but none of them intervened.
"STOP IT! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
"Do anything?" Bellatrix spat, the ray of energy emanating from her wand still connected to Hermione's body. "There's nothing you can do! You are over! Finished! This is your last night and is going to be a night to remember."
And in that state of hopeless despair, a thought suddenly occurred to Harry; he knew something the Dark Lord was dying to find out.
"I'LL GIVE YOU THE PROPHECY!"
The Death Eaters' heads snapped in Harry's direction as Rabastan yelled, "You lie!"
"I'M NOT! I'LL GIVE IT TO YOU! JUST LET HER GO!"
It worked.
Bellatrix slowly lowered her wand, and her husband and brother-in-law followed her lead. Harry watched as Hermione's body stopped its violent convulsing, and finally stood still, a twisted heap on the floor. Ginny ran to her, crouching next to her friend's body and touching her face with gentleness. Hermione remained unresponsive. Neville limped toward them while Luna struggled to help Ron reach his fallen friend. The youngest Weasley stifled a sob, fearing the worst, but decided to lower her head and whisper God-knows-what next to Hermione's ear.
Harry finally breathed when he saw her golden brown eyes slowly flutter open, seemingly unable to focus. But she was conscious.
"WELL?" Bellatrix impatiently called his attention back to her. Harry knew he was now holding the upper hand, but conflicting thoughts about the wisdom of this action popped into his head.
"You have to give me your word," Harry hissed, "that you will leave my friends… and every person in this hall… alone. You will do what you came to do to me, and leave… is that clear?"
"Draco, keep an eye on the whelps. And this time, make sure they don't cause any trouble," Bellatrix ordered with poisonous sweetness. Turning to Harry once more, she asked, "And you… you would believe my word?" She seemed to be amusedly surprised that he would be so gullible.
And she was right, for he didn't trust her. However, he knew of something these three trespassers were running out of: time. If he could keep them distracted long enough, maybe the room sealing spell will be broken, and help would finally arrive.
"I don't have a choice now, do I?"
"You don't," said Bellatrix as she slowly walked toward him, "But I was in that room two years ago, Potter… I know the orb with the Prophecy was destroyed."
"I know what it said," he replied. Forcing himself to smile tauntingly, he added, "Come on, Lestrange. It's something that involves your boss… something that will make Voldemort extremely pleased to know. So… do we have a deal?"
"Oh, just spit it out!"
Harry had barely opened his mouth to reply before he heard a faint "No" coming from the middle of the hall. His eyes were drawn to Hermione, who had assumed a sitting position thanks to help of Ginny and Luna. She was shaking her head gently, muttering "No" again and again.
`Sorry, Mione. I can't let her hurt you.'
Somewhere in the back of his head he registered that to tell Voldemort about the secret of the Prophecy would be to tell him that the only way the Dark Lord could insure his survival was to see Harry dead. But then, he was in no better position right now. Sooner or later he was going to die, and damned if he let anybody else take the fall for him.
"The one with the Power to vanquish the Dark Lord -"
"HARRY! NO!"
Everyone was stunned that the one who screamed such a forceful order was not Harry's best friend, Ron, nor his girlfriend, Hermione, but the gentle and soft-spoken boy known as Neville. Bellatrix turned her head slowly to face whoever had dared to interrupt.
"Neville," Harry pleaded, not liking one bit the smile on Bellatrix face at the sight of the boy. "Stay out of this. This is not your…"
"Ah," she interrupted him, "I see… round-face, not-quite-there gaze… trembling voice… and obvious lack of spine… you must a Longbottom!"
Neville ignored her hurtful taunting. "Harry, you can't do this… you can't let You-know-who know about the Prophecy!"
"You know, your mummy and daddy are old friends of mine… how are they, by the way?"
"If you do that, everything will come to an end."
"Neville! Just shut up!" Harry screamed at the same time that Ginny tugged at Neville's hand, pleading for him to sit back down.
"You should have seen Alice screaming, "Not my boy! Not my baby boy!" over and over again as she writhed in pain on the floor of that flea-infested house they were hiding in," Bellatrix continued, "And Frank… poor deluded Frank… he thought that he could fight us all out of the pureness of his heart."
"We prefer to die now than to let him win! You hear me, Harry?" Neville screamed, his body trembling with determination, "We choose to die if it means he'll be stopped!"
"The Potters had it easy… but not your parents. We took our sweet time… talking… to them…"
"My parents gave their lives to protect the secret, Harry. Don't let their sacrifice be in vain…"
"Maybe I should go to St. Mungo's and pay them a visit… you know? Reminisce on the good old days."
"FUCK YOU, BITCH!
If people had been surprised before, it was nothing compared to the shock that they felt now as they stared at Neville and Bellatrix. Even she seemed to have been stunned into silence. A deafening hush fell on the room, later broken by the Death Eater's hiss, "What did you say?
"You heard me," Neville replied coolly, "you are nothing but Voldemort's whore."
Harry had never heard Neville called the Dark Lord by his name before, but he knew he had never heard that name muttered with such fury before. It had never occurred to Harry that, if there was anyone who might hate Voldemort and Bellatrix as much as he did, it was Neville.
"You pathetic fool!" Bellatrix shrilled, "I'll show you manners! CRUCIO!"
The other two death eaters joined her in the hex and Neville, like Hermione, was hit with the Unforgivable curse with such force that he was literarily knocked off his feet. He flew back over the heads of the students for at least eight meters, until he impacted the oak doors and fell on the floor with a loud thud.
Harry's friends screamed.
Neville didn't.
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"Help him!" Ron ordered to his stunned companions. Luna helped the now hysterical Ginny to her feet, and the two of them made their way through the students towards Neville.
"Did you see that?" Goyle said with childish excitement.
"He looked like a puppet!" Crabbe joined in.
"Shut up!" Malfoy hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes going from Ron and Hermione toward the stage, biting his lip with uncharacteristic anxiety, his only comfort the knowledge that this will soon be all over.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Now, where were we?" said Bellatrix as casually as if she had just slapped an annoying fly with out of the way.
Harry could hardly breathe; first Roger, then Hermione, and now Neville. How many more will be hurt before she got to him?
-----------------------------------------------------
"Mione," Ron said, wriggling his way on the floor to get closer to his friend, "tell me you have a plan…"
Hermione forced her eyes to focus on the Boy-She-Loved. Yes, she could see it behind those green eyes… he was lost. Neville's words had left a mark in him. At that same moment, his eyes turned to her and their gazes crossed, and she saw how the thought that another one of them might be hurt because of him was consuming him.
He would rather let the deaths that came before be in vain than to add one more soul to that wretched sum.
It was a burden that never should have fallen on the trembling shoulders of a 17-year-old.
"What are we going to do?" Ron pressed.
It was then that she saw it… just a few feet away from her hand. The smooth surface glinted with the light that came from the orb, like a beacon in a stormy night.
"Mione, talk to me… what are we …"
She didn't answer her friend, but forced her body to roll over, and started to move on all fours toward the shiny object. Malfoy and his consorts were once again distracted by the happenings in the stage, and Hermione found there was no obstacle between her and her goal, as if The-Powers-That-Be agreed with her.
She had a single thought in mind: two years ago, she had sworn she would protect Harry at all costs.
At. all. costs.
Surprisingly, she didn't feel scared, or hesitant, or insecure. The only thing she truly felt was regret; regret that the happiness Harry and she had shared was so short lived.
She just hoped that her beloved would forgive her for once again taking the choice away for him.
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"Love, we have to hurry," Rodolphus said, "The room-sealing spell… it's going to vanish in a few minutes. We have to act now!"
"It's not my fault Potter's friends keep sticking their noses in where they don't belong!" she spat at her husband, sending him a look that could sent grown men home to their mothers.
Turning her attention back to Harry, she hissed, "You have one more chance… make it quick!"
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but before any word could escape from his lips, he was interrupted by a loud boom came from the direction of the doors. They simultaneously looked back to find that the doors were bending slightly before returning to their closed positions. It did this once, twice, three times before Rabastan yelled, "Someone is trying to break through!"
-----------------------------------------------------
As he watched Hermione slide away, it dawned on Ron that he didn't know what to do anymore. Here they were in an increasingly hopeless situation: his best friend was tied to a chair and being threatened by the right hand of his archenemy, his other best friend was non-responsive, his dorm-mate was seriously injured, maybe even dead, and he was tied in such a way that he couldn't even stand up and assess the situation.
The loud booming sound that came from the doors reached his ears as the last glimmer of hope had started to fade. That sound and the expression of terror on the Death Eater's face could only mean one thing.
The Calvary had arrived.
`Hang on, Harry… just hang on'
He turned his head and searched for the injured Hermione, "They're here! They're…"
A very unexpected sight greeted him.
Hermione had managed to stand up, her shaky legs barely supporting her, and her arms were locked over her head in a position that looked barely possible in her weakened state. But the most unexpected thing was that, in her small hands, Malfoy's knife was clenched.
But what was she going to do with it? Malfoy and his gorillas were too far from her, and anyway, he doubted Bellatrix would care if Hermione took one of them as hostage and tried to bargain for Harry's life. The demoness would kill her own nephew before letting his The-Boy-Who-Lived slipped through her fingers again.
It was then that an almost imperceptible detail clicked in the back of Ron's head: the blade was pointing downwards.
And it was only then that Ron realized what Hermione intended to do.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Sorry, Potter… we'll have to cut our conversation short."
There was no fear in Harry's spirit; at least, with help just outside the door, the students were safe. His friends were safe.
Hermione was safe.
He didn't know what Bellatrix had in store for him, but he knew it would be nothing compared to the guilt he would feel if one more life was wasted in his name.
Bellatrix once again raised her arms over her head and, looking up at the orb that hovered above them, started to chant.
"O mors aeterna, me audi,
sanguinemque vivum sapi
quem in nomine tuo profundo!"
A strange howling sound started to emanate from the orb. A thunderous chorus of voices screeched so loudly that most of the students being kept hostage covered their ears and dropped to their knees, huddling together as if that would offer any protection.
"Et veni et adroga
hunc animum miserum..."
The look on Bellatrix's face was one of pure and unadulterated madness. Yes, she was finally getting her wish for the last sixteen years: to take down The One who had almost destroyed her Lord.
"...totum devorarent!"
The blade came down, it's intended target the spot just over Harry's heart.
But it never reached its goal.
Instead, Harry heard someone scream something that sounded like "NO! STOP!" over the voices from the orb before a blinding flash of white light inundated the hall.
It took him a few seconds to open his eyes again. He blinked erratically, seeing nothing but blurry shapes and shadows, trying to focus and absently wondering why the blade hadn't struck yet.
To his surprise, he found Bellatrix and her companions in the same state of confusion that he was as they stared up at the orb with frightened expressions.
Finally, Harry managed to focus on the sphere, only to realize that it was now pulsing at a frantic pace, while a gray and formless mist started to trickle from its surface toward the floor.
"THEY ARE COMING!" Rodolphus yelled.
"B-b-but... Potter's blood! It hasn't... hasn't..." Rabastan stammered, his gaze alternating between the orb and the blade on Bellatrix's hand.
"I don't understand," Harry barely heard the witch mutter, "the spell… it wasn't supposed to be triggered until… until…"
A fourth voice joined those of the Death Eaters with an almost inconspicuous, "God… why" But unlike the voices of Voldemort's followers, Harry felt the unadulterated pain in that voice, the barely contained tears, and the anguish that was ready to explode.
And, to his horror, he realized that the voice belonged to Ron.
"The mudblood…" Rodolphus pointed an accusatory finger at the dance floor, "THE MUDBLOOD! IT WAS SHE! LOOK!"
`Hermione'
Harry's eyes immediately jumped to the middle of the hall, where a lonely figure stood just a few feet away from Malfoy, Ron and the rest of the students. It was Hermione, a grimace on her face as she looked up defiantly at Bellatrix. Her hands were over her stomach, so weak her legs were barely holding her up, but with eyes that burned with determination.
Fearless.
And then, her eyes shifted from Bellatrix to his. And her expression softened.
Such devotion. Such love. Oh, why had he not noticed before?
So much time wasted.
Her lips moved ever so slowly as she mouthed a message meant only for him.
I'm. sorry.
"Hermione… Hermione…" Ron continued to mumble.
The gray mist had reached the floor, and now, like water from a cascade, was pouring down the edge of the stage and into dance floor.
Towards her.
And it was only then that Harry finally understood what had gone so very wrong this time.
He felt as if he was being swallowed by an all-encompassing darkness he would never be free of.
This could not be happening. Not this. Never this.
Hermione returned her attention toward her beloved's tormentor before speaking.
"They are here… for me."
And before Harry could scream, she sliced the blade she had stuck to the side of her stomach all the way to the opposite side. Blood cascaded from her wound, down her dress and onto the floor, but she kept on going, even when Harry screamed for her to stop, even when Ron begged her to cease, even when Ginny and Luna cried out to a god that seemed to have turned his back on them.
Until… finally… she pulled the blade out of her stomach, spraying Ron and the shocked Malfoy and anybody nearby with her life essence. Her knees gave in, and she collapsed on the floor just as the mist reached her, encircling her as the voices roared.
The doors once again budged, a white flash coming from underneath it. But the seal was not broken yet.
The students screamed and retreated further toward the exist, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the mist when they witnessed as translucent and spectral hands started to appear out of nowhere. These hands began to claw at Hermione, tearing her dress, grabbing her hair, circling closer and closer until Harry could barely see her.
And she didn't fight back. She just let herself be touched and mistreated and punished, taking it all without a complaint. She never once screamed, she never once pleaded, she never once begged. She just knelt there, her eyes barely opened, the rise and fall of her chest becoming more erratic with every breath she took, blood pouring freely from her wound and trickling down the side of her mouth and into her hands.
The same hands he had held for countless of times since they were children. The same hands that had protected him, comforted him, held him, stopped him, hurt him, and caress him.
Now stained with blood… her blood.
Struggling to remain awake, Hermione looked for him. And when her eyes finally found him, she whispered what was an unmistakable "I love you" before succumbing to the dark.
And he knew that, no matter how this night ends, he would be joining her.
"no… No… NO! TAKE HARRY! TAKE THE BOY!" Bellatrix screamed at the wraiths, raging with anger. But the voices didn't hear her, judging by the way they took Hermione in their vaporous hands and raised her over them. The mist carried her as it slowly made its way back to its home.
That's when IT happened.
Harry felt a burst of energy inside of him, a power like he had never felt before, originating from his chest and traveling throughout every limb in his body until it finally was expulsed from within.
Before anybody realized what was happening, the binds that held Harry to the chair caught fire, instantaneously becoming nothing but ash. He stood up with a roar just as Rabastan, who had been standing behind the chair, noticed that he was free. Harry turned around and snatched Rabastan's wand right out of his hand before landing a nasty punch right to the Death Eater's face that rendered him unconscious.
Bellatrix raised her wand at him and screamed "AVAD…" before Harry turned to her and used Rabastan's wand to release a stunning spell that sent her flying through the air and crashing against the chairs of the orchestra.
"TARANTALLEGRA," Harry screamed, his wand turned toward Rodolphus, whose legs immediately started flailing wildly. He collapsed on the floor, convulsing like a cockroach that had been sprayed with venom.
Harry's eyes searched for Hermione. The mist was still carrying her, her legs held together, her arms perpendicular to her body.
She was beautiful. So pale… so tranquil… so perfect.
And dead.
It was not the time to cry. It was the time to reclaim what was his. It was the time force himself to think about the happiest moment in his short life.
It was easy to find it. It had been less than half an hour ago.
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In his mind, he saw his Hermione as she had been in the balcony... closing the distance that separated them, tearing down the last barrier in their friendship as she pulled off the mask from his face. He felt the tips of her fingers as they softly caressed his face, tracing the edge of his scar, his nose, his eyelids… he felt her hands weaving into his hair and pulling him down tenderly… and he felt the ghost of her lips on his, sending divine chills to every part of his body.
Making him feel loved.
Making him feel alive.
Yes. This was a memory to hold on to.
He opened his eyes, raised his wand and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The silver stag materialized in front of him, and immediately stood its ground between Hermione and the orb. The wraiths united their hellish voices in a scream that chilled the others to the very bone, but held no power over the Patronus.
With its powerful antlers, the stag opened his way through the mist, immune to the attacks of the wraiths. Finally, the Patronus reached Hermione and, as he destroyed the souls underneath her body, let her gracefully fall onto his back.
The remaining souls went back to their prison. The sphere flashed once before falling onto the ground with an incongruous clink.
The stag slowly turned around, careful not to drop the girl as it walked back to Harry. When it was standing in front of the boy, it kneeled on its front legs. The body of the girl gently rolled onto the floor and landed at the boy's feet.
Harry's eyes never left Hermione's face. He never noticed that Bellatrix had regained consciousness, and that she had raised his wand at him. He never heard Ron's shout of warning. And he never heard the Death Eater's last words.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
He never saw the flash of green light that hit him squarely on the chest.
He never felt as his feet lost contact with the floor and his body flew backwards.
The doors burst open. But Harry did not hear the explosion, for there was room for only one voice inside his head.
"Books! And cleverness! There are more important things -- friendship and bravery and - "
And love. It took him six years to figure it out, but he finally understood.
"You solved it! You solved it!"
Not this time. This time, he had failed.
"You're going to be fine."
He fell.
"Harry, you were brilliant! You were amazing! You really were!"
And he continued falling.
"I know you're in there! Will you please come out? I want to talk to you."
And falling.
"There is no me without you, Harry. It is not a matter of choice… I'd die without you."
Yeah. He definitely knew what that was like.
"I love you."
Fallen.
Into darkness.
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A/N
Hi everybody! Long time no see, eh? Well… mea culpa. I have absolutely no excuse for the many months that this chapter has taken except that RL got in the way, plus I wasn't really happy with the first few drafts of this chapter.
First of all, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE STORY! There's one more chapter left. So, stay tuned! Now that we got that out of the way...
This chapter was probably the most difficult thing I'll ever write. I know it may be confusing to read, but keep this in mind: the timeframe of the events in this chapter is anywhere between 10 - 12 minutes. I wanted to transmit some of the confusion and anxiety that they experienced in this few minutes, and that's why it's a bit more unstructured.
The Latin incantation Bellatrix intones when she's about to call the spirits roughly translates to this:
"Hear me, eternal death,
Taste the living blood
That in your name I shed.
Come and claim
This wretched soul.
Let your darkness
Swallow him whole."
Peachy, ain't it? Special thanks to Silvestria for her amazing Latin skills.
I really want to know what you think of this chapter, so, please, leave me a review/constructive criticism if you can spare a few minutes. I want to improve, and you're the ones that can tell me what I have to work on. And to those who think that the events that transpired in this chapter were a bit out of the blue, I invite you to read again the story. You'll be surprised.
Love,
Anasazi
PS. The name of the chapter is taken from the song Danse Macabre, by Camille Saint-Saenz. It translates to Dance of Death. Romantic!
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