A/N: Sorry for the delay, had some other things to do, plus I actually have a bit of a social life now. Yay! Thanks to Misstake for beta-reading this chapter. I promise not to write "Garry" again.
It had thus been three days since Harry had returned from the Ministry of Magic. Three days in which Woundhealer had been carried to the sight and reversed the damage that had been done; to the extent it could. Some had already died from lack of hydration. They had been in the Ministry for over five days before Harry had entered it. Five days before they had determined what could be done to save them. Five days too long, in Harry's opinion. Had they known the powers of Shieldbreaker then, he could have ended it decisively the first day. But then again, he counseled himself. They had believed his weapon to be Stonecutter, which would have afforded no protection at all against the powers of Soulcutter. He wondered again why Dumbledore had not sent him after Woundhealer in order to save the Ministry first. It would have made more logical sense to try and save the people who were dying first, would it not? But then again…who was to say which was a more dangerous situation; many trained wizards fanatical about serving Voldemort, or hundreds who were doing nothing, most of whom could be saved from death. While Harry cursed himself for not being able to save everyone, he realized he couldn't have expected that all would live. He wasn't all-powerful, despite all the strength that Shieldbreaker gave him. And yet… he had failed it seemed. After everything he had done, he hadn't saved everyone.
Harry had been amazed at all that Woundhealer could do. He had seen mental transformations in his friends, had seen Ron's grievous wounds healed, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened to those at the Ministry. As soon as the cold steel of mercy touched their flesh, the sallow complexion faded, their cheeks became full again, and the dead look in their eyes lifted. It was like each man had aged a decade in their time there, and Woundhealer had gifted it back to them. Soulcutter really did steal one's life, Harry reflected. He got a certain satisfaction when he remembered smashing it's dull metal into oblivion.
Harry returned from the locker room from Quidditch practice, very glad to have gotten the season back finally, after the delay. He knew it seemed morbid with all that had been going on to worry so much about sports, but they could be useful in times like these. Helped to keep his mind off other things like…
He felt a sudden chill, despite the just finished workout. Whenever he thought of those people in the dank gloom of the Ministry that day. He hadn't felt that way since he had first encountered the dementors. Like all the happiness he had ever had was suddenly bereft of him.
Harry found the common room occupied by several other students, the younger of which stared at him openly, in awe. His fame as the Boy-Who-Lived had only been accentuated in the recent days which his quests to find Woundhealer, defeating Voldemort again, and saving the entire Ministry of Magic, including Cornelius Fudge himself. Although there had been no official acknowledgement from the Ministry of Harry's actions, everyone knew what he had done.
Harry didn't really want to talk with anybody at that moment, so he just headed up to his dormitory, and decided to hide out there until supper. He didn't much care about the homework he still had left to finish for his classes. He felt like he was starting to lose himself again. Every time he thought about what had happened there at the Ministry, and what had happened during Voldemort's attack… He felt so lost.
There was a gentle tapping on the door. Harry turned, staring almost blankly at it. He realized who it would be a moment before the door creaked open. Hermione stuck her head in, her face looking curiously sad.
"Harry… What's the matter?" She stepped inside, walking slowly towards him.
His eyes darted about, not wanting to have to meet her gaze. He didn't want to worry her. But he knew that she already had felt it… She had always been able to look through him. "Hermione…have you ever felt just…I don't know, lost? Like you're not sure who you are anymore or why you're here or what you're even doing?"
She looked at him for a moment, slightly puzzled, then sat on a bed, inviting him to sit beside her. He did so, resting his head against her shoulder. She stroked his neck gently.
"Harry, this is about the Ministry, isn't it." It was not a question. "I know you've seen things which no one should, especially not at the age that you are. I know it's hard, because I've had to face some of these dangers with you. Harry," she turned to face him, holding her hand against his cheek to force him to look at her, "know that you are not alone at all. We are all here for you." She drew Harry to her and hugged him tightly. When she released him, she was stunned to see tears in his eyes.
"I wanted to help them, Hermione. I wanted to so much. But I couldn't do anything. All I could do was smash that fucking piece of metal into splinters. But it wasn't enough." He breathed deeply. "I never told anyone… But I saw Mr. Weasley in there. He was… Just like the others. Lifeless. Like they were dead."
She started for a moment at his use of such language. But she realized at the same time the enormous stress he was under. He was carrying them all on his shoulders.
"Harry, please. Don't disconnect. We need you to stay strong for us all, just for a while longer."
He stared at her, and his eyes burned in their sockets it seemed. "But I need you to stay strong with me, too."
In response, she held his chin and kissed him softly, and it seemed like her energy passed from her to him in that instant. Like somehow her love was supporting him. "You know I will, Harry. I always will be with you."
Harry held on to her, and didn't let go.
They reached the Great Hall for supper a few hours later. People had still stared openly at Harry, but he had ignored them this time, Hermione hanging on his arm, her body pressed against his. Whenever she was with him, he felt like he had not a care in the world.
They took seats across from Ron, who had already arrived. He also had in front of him an issue of the Daily Prophet. As Harry reached for the potatoes, his eyes caught part of one article in the corner. …was found dead, the apparent victim of a sword thrust through the heart. There was only one witness, who said the victim fell, and a cloaked man Apparated in and removed the sword from the body…
"Odd…" he muttered.
Ron looked up at him. "Isn't it though? The Chief of Magical Law Enforcement murdered, without anyone seeing it. His assistant has taken everything over. He's actually the one who discovered the body, too."
Harry looked at him, a visage of black puzzlement washing over him. "The Chief of MLE is dead? But… How?"
"Strangest thing… Sword thrust, straight through the heart, but they didn't find anything in the office."
Harry, now deeply suspicious, turned to Hermione, who seemed confused. She glanced between both of them. "What is it Harry?"
Harry pointed to the other article. "There, see?" Ron and Hermione both studied it. After a moment, they both looked back at him, faces sick with dread.
"Don't you get it? They were both killed by Death Eater by Apparition, I'm betting, and then the weapon removed again by Apparition of that same Death Eater! Ron, do you know if it's possible to Apparate inside the Ministry?"
Ron nodded. "Of course. If there were Apparition wards, it would make transit a lot more difficult for those who work deep within the building. I suppose it would be possible to Apparate inside the office, kill the Chief and escape. But it'd be hard to catch him unawares like that."
Harry thought for a moment, trying to think about how this would be possible. And what possible motive for the other murder was there? There seemed to be nothing indicating that he was anyone of importance.
But Hermione seemed to be muttering to herself, a sort of rhythmic mantra of sorts. Harry leaned in closer.
"…for thy heart! For thy heart! Who hast wronged me," she murmured. She looked up at Harry, seemingly startled by his sudden appearance. "A Sword, Harry. One of the Twelve. Farslayer. Don't you remember?"
Harry thought back for a moment, then heard Ron whispering from across the table. "Farslayer howls across the world, for thy heart! For thy heart! Who hast wronged me? Vengeance is his who casts the blade, yet he will in the end, no triumph see." He looked backed at Harry darkly, and his face seemed almost sinister. "Farslayer. The sword that can kill from across the world."
The three looked at each other, dreading what this meant. Anyone, anywhere could be struck down without a chance to defend themselves. Except maybe…
"Harry, do you think that Shieldbreaker could protect you?" Hermione asked quickly.
Harry looked at her. "It's worth a try. I would be Voldemort's most likely target it would seem. I'll go get Shieldbreaker. Ron, go tell Neville to get Coinspinner, we may well need some luck. Hermione, do you know if Woundhealer is still here?"
Hermione nodded. "I believe so. Everyone at the Ministry was healed, and Professor Dumbledore had it brought back here to Madame Pomfrey I think. I'll go look." She ran off, and Harry shoved himself from the table, racing up to Gryffindor Tower.
He passed through the portal and grabbed his Sword sheath, buckling it to his belt and running back out. He passed Neville on the stairs.
"Harry, what's happening? Not another attack?"
"Not yet, Neville. But there's danger out there. And it could strike anyone, anywhere, at any time. We have to be vigilant, and cautious. Get you Sword. I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore." Harry ran back down the stairs, leaving Neville about as confused as before. The blood was pounding in Harry's ears, either from the running or the fear, he wasn't sure.
Harry arrived back down in the Great Hall. There was a moment of shocked silence as he burst back into the room, grim look of determination etched on his face, posture that of an aggressive warrior ready for battle. Harry barely noticed the looks as he strode fast up to the head table.
"Harry, what is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore started with a clip to his questioning tone.
"Professor, I think, no, I know that Voldemort has Farslayer. Too many coincidences have been happening."
At this, Neville came in through the doors, still struggling with his own Sword. Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Harry, while I have no idea about how you came to this conclusion, I shall trust your judgment for the time being. What would you suggest we do?"
At this, Harry was momentarily deflated. As far as he knew, there was no defense against Farslayer, besides perhaps Shieldbreaker, or maybe Doomgiver.
Harry opened his mouth to say this, but at that moment, heard a howling, screaming noise. In an instant, Harry saw something spectral pass straight through his body and connect with Dumbledore's. It materialized suddenly then, and Dumbledore was thrown backwards, knocking over his chair. Embedded deep in his chest was a Sword. Farslayer.
People began to scream. Harry didn't hear them. He felt absolutely numb. Dumbledore had been killed right in front of him, and he had been powerless, despite holding Shieldbreaker at his side. It didn't seem possible. Harry collapsed to his knees.
"He's not dead!" came the cry.
Harry lifted his head. He managed to stand. The Professor was clinging to life, but even Harry could see that life slowly draining from him. Only moments now.
The doors flew open a third time. Hermione stood there, Sword in hand. Woundhealer!
Harry didn't think twice. She would never make it in time, running with that Sword. "Accio Hermione!" She flew towards him. He deftly caught her.
"No time to explain, the Sword, quick!"
Hermione instantly realized the gravity of the situation and immediately drew Woundhealer, stabbing it deep into Dumbledore's body. He gasped out loud.
"Now, remove the other Sword first." Harry was surprised at how calm he sounded. Hagrid pulled Farslayer out and tossed it aside.
The healing powers of Woundhealer instantly restored Dumbledore. He groaned slowly and began to sit up. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a student lifting Farslayer.
"No!" he croaked, "Do not-"
But his words were lost as the student, blinded by his sheer anger and desire for vengeance against this attack on his Headmaster, cast the blade towards the person they knew must have sent it: Voldemort. Trailing spectral light and howling, the blade leapt from the boy's hands and phased through the castle wall. It would reach its target in an instant. No one moved. But then, something went wrong.
Harry felt Neville tug at his sleeve. "No. It's too late!"
Harry turned in time to see Coinspinner quiver in warning. The howling sound returned, too quickly for the blade to have been cast again. Voldemort had Doomgiver! Harry remembered.
He moved, but not fast enough. The gray steel of Farslayer returned, striking down he who had cast it. Returning the action on the one who acted. Instantly, Hermione was at the dying boy's side. She plunged Woundhealer into his flesh, and removed Farslayer. His mortal wound disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, leaving pinkish skin over the where the gaping gash had been. Instead of tossing aside Farslayer, she carefully picked it up and held it, looking at the blade.
There seemed nothing unusual about it besides the mottling that all the Swords had. On it's hilt were three concentric circle… A target. Harry stepped in closer to her, eyes fixed on the gleaming metal which had claimed two lives already, and had almost claimed two more. He could see now, why he who cast it would see no triumph. The weapon could be thrown back at them. That was why the Death Eaters had Apparated in to recover the weapon. But Dumbledore had been too good of a target, apparently. Voldemort had been willing to risk losing Farslayer to kill his arch-nemesis.
"I thought so," Harry murmured.
Hermione turned to him. "What was that Harry?"
His eyes flashed dangerously, as he considered what might have been had Hermione not arrived in time. "I knew that Voldemort probably had Doomgiver. And I also suspected that Doomgiver might protect a user from Farslayer here. He intended this to happen. Dumbledore dies, we try to kill Voldemort, and someone else here dies. Then we could try killing someone else there. But then it's only cast back here. Massacre on all sides, but we don't know all of Voldemort's followers. He has the advantage."
An older student stepped up. "But why not cast it back at one of the Death Eaters? At least we take them out?" There were murmurings of approval in the crowd.
"No," murmured a low, weak voice. Dumbledore struggled to stand. "We must not. This is a weapon of vengeance; it says so in the verse. There is an old saying in the Muggle world. 'When setting out on vengeance, dig two graves.' At least one will die on both sides. I will not allow this. This is a weapon far too dangerous to remain in existence." He gazed directly at Harry as he said this last. Harry's hard eyes bored back, and he nodded swiftly.
Harry drew Shieldbreaker from his scabbard, feeling its power ebb through him. "Hermione, set down Farslayer and step away. Everyone step away."
All surrounding him looked around incredulously. They could only wonder at what was happening truly. They knew what Harry had done, but not how. The powers of Shieldbreaker and its fellows were still a guarded secret. But at the urging of the teachers, they backed away.
Harry stood over Farslayer, gazing upon its glittering surface that seemed to mock him with its invincibility and its powers. He smiled grimly, knowing that its power wasn't a match by any means for that which he currently held. He raised Shieldbreaker, and the pounding began, like a might, unstoppable piston beating out an irregular rhythm.
He focused himself and brought the Sword down hard against its brother, the beat echoing up and up, faster and faster, until the magical steel blades met, and the Sword of Vengeance passed from existence with a mighty boom.
The students stood or sat stock-still, in utter disbelief at what they had just witnessed. The mighty power of Shieldbreaker. An awesome power to destroy, even that which they had believed indestructible. Harry took one look at them, and brushed past, back up to the dormitory. Again, he did not want to face their scrutiny. And he knew now, there would be some who would try and take Shieldbreaker from him, now that they knew its power.
Hermione trailed him out, holding Woundhealer in her hands, while the shards of Farslayer smoked upon the floor, its blade shattered by the matchless magic of Shieldbreaker.
A/N: OK, time to thank all you reviewers! Thanks to: Takeda Lee, Batgirl, HermioneGrangerSnogsHarryPotter, Stacey, Ranma, yurimionepotter, Alexia Potter, Emma, misstake, SoulShine, Sarahkitty, Spencer Nassau, Clyde, Da Krittik, and Clair.
Questions…
Yurimionepotter: Voldemort figuring out Snape? That's a good question. I haven't decided yet. I've pretty much just put him out of the way for now. Yes, some people are going to die. Main characters? I don't think I'll kill any of them. I will be putting in some more H/Hr as it comes along. Draco… You'll find out very soon.