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Harry Potter and the Swords of Power by Darkstar
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Harry Potter and the Swords of Power

Darkstar

A/N: AUGH!!! I'm sooo sorry this chapter took so long. I was pretty busy, then my computer broke, it was terrible. But hopefully, I should be writing more, so the next chapters will come faster. It gets bloody in this chapter, so be warned.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and company, Fred Saberhagen owns the Swords Series. Me? I own nothing, and get no money whatsoever.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: SECRETS OF STEEL

Strangely enough, there were no attempts by anyone to even get a look at Shieldbreaker. Harry figured they were too scared of its abilities and what it might possibly be able to do. After all, most of the students knew virtually nothing about the Swords. Most of what they knew was that they had strange powers, and couldn't be destroyed or damaged.

Harry had his face buried in his pillow when Ron shook him roughly awake. Harry groaned and rolled over, a dribble of drool escaping his mouth. He barely noticed as he blinked his eyes, staring at the blurry form in front of him, which was nonetheless recognizable as his lanky red-haired friend.

"Wha? What is it?" he mumbled with a slur of sleepiness. He fumbled for his glasses and placed them on his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Ron waited for a moment for Harry to clear his head of weariness and began. "Minister Fudge is on his way here. The attack on the Ministry, while he doesn't believe it to be the work of Voldemort," said Ron with a dark look on his face which told Harry everything he needed to know about what Ron thought of that particular view, "he does believe that a certain item the Ministry has in its possession would be safer from attack here."

Harry stared at him, the effects of sleep dulling his thoughts momentarily. "Item? A Sword? Which one?" He was fully awake now.

"Stonecutter, Dumbledore tells me. They want to lock it in the deepest parts of the dungeons, protected by various enchantments and so forth. Dumbledore wanted you down in the Great Hall. Oh, and I'd wear your Sword. If Malfoy could support Voldemort the way he did, others might… We can't take risks."

Harry rolled out of bed and went about tossing on his robes. Ron had already descended to the common room by the time Harry had everything on, and strapped Shieldbreaker to his belt. It was dark in the dorm, with the sun hidden behind darkened clouds. He turned on a light, checking to make sure everything looked alright, before he went down the stairs to the common room. He found Ron and Hermione there. Also present was Neville, who looked rather haggard and sleepy, with bloodshot eyes. He also gripped Coinspinner's hilt tightly, as if it might flee from him at any moment.

Harry glanced at them all for a moment, before heading for the portal door. They followed him out, striding softly behind him and speaking no words. Harry's mind was racing as he paced silently through the corridors, despite the hard, unflinching look he wore on his face. Nothing seemed to be making much sense at this point. Minister Fudge hadn't even acknowledged Harry's actions in the Ministry only a few days ago, and had publicly lambasted him last year, and had bought into the rumors of Harry's supposed insanity the year before that.

Harry and his companions burst into the Great Hall momentarily, finding the tables against the walls with many Ministry officials standing in the center, including Cornelius Fudge, and a few people who were clearly Aurors. Also present was Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick. Snape still seemed absent. Harry's stomach dropped for an instant, thinking it was most likely at this point the Potions Master had been discovered by Voldemort and was dead. He shook off that feeling, knowing he had to ignore it for now. There were more important things to do. Harry strode imperiously right up to Fudge and Dumbledore, not looking in any direction but forward. There was a disdainful look on Fudge's face, as if he was stricken between collapsing in fear or showing open contempt.

"Well… Harry Potter. And what are you doing down here?" said Fudge in a voice that sounded braver than he looked.

Harry didn't allow himself to glare at Fudge, just maintained his icy cool expression. "I came here to ensure that that Sword doesn't fall into the wrong hands and safely is placed where it needs to be." Especially since you're too stupid to realize Voldemort is back, and he will want that weapon.

A Ministry official Harry didn't recognize cut in savagely. "And what makes you think you have a say in such matters?"

Dumbledore raised a warning hand. "I suggest we all calm ourselves immediately. Harry, while I am glad of your interest in this matter, you must aware that there is no danger, and very little that you can do at this time. Please return to your dormitories, all of you."

The new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stepped in. "If you don't mind me saying so, Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Potter has proved himself to be quite resourceful in the past, and I daresay he understands You-Know-Who better than anyone but yourself. I believe it'd be best to let him stay."

Fudge glared at the mention of Voldemort, and began to say something heated.

Just then, Neville let out a yelp. His Sword had leapt into his grasp and was now focusing at something in the distance. Ron, standing next to him with a startled glance looked along the blade. "What is it Neville?"

Neville screwed up his face. "I dunno, Ron… I think… Somebody's coming."

The party moved to a courtyard behind the school to see a multitude of shapes approaching over the lake. It was Dumbledore who first determined what they were.

"Wizards riding brooms. They appear to be from Durmstrang." A wave of whispers rippled through the crowd of wizards standing around him.

"But… What are they doing here? Did you receive word Dumbledore?" inquired Fudge.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. This is unexpected. But something tells me they are not here on a peaceful errand." The shapes grew larger and eventually landed in the distance. Three figures, clearly older than the rest trudged towards the assembled body of wizards. They all wore grim looks on their faces. Dumbledore looked them over. "And what brings you here Graff? Or more correctly, what brings you here without your headmaster?"

The middle one peered up at Dumbledore in what he obviously thought was a shrewd manner. "He unfortunately did not see things the vay ve did. Sadly… This meant that many of our supporters remained behind. But ve still have plenty."

Harry quickly surveyed the crowd. He guessed over 200 wizards, all looking like they were at least in 5th year. Most of the crowd of Britons here were fully trained wizards, but there were less than 50. He self-consciously fingered the hilt of Shieldbreaker and felt a coursing of power from it, calming his nerves.

Dumbledore was speaking again. "Plenty for what?"

The wizard he had called Graff smiled toothily. "Oh, I think you know. You have brought the reason with you." He pointed amongst the crowd. Harry followed his hand, and was shocked to find it directed at Neville.

"Neville?" he whispered, "Why?"

Hermione grabbed his arm and spoke in a hushed voice back to him. "No, not Neville. His Sword. Don't you get it?"

Harry heard a coughing from behind him. It was the Chief of Magical Law Enforcement. "She's right, Harry. This could get ugly. I'm going for reinforcements." He smoothly made his way out of the crowd for the exit. Harry touched Hermione's hand lightly. "Hermione, whatever happens… Be careful. I don't like this one bit."
She gripped his hand in her own. "I will. You be careful too."

Fudge suddenly began to understand what Hermione had already determined. "You… You want a Sword?" he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Graff smiled unconvincingly, with a dark shadow hiding just behind his eyes. "Why, yes Minister Fudge. You see, ve have heard of these… veapons in our home country, yet ve find it very suspicious, shall ve say, that all of the Swords of Power have thus far turned up in England."

Fudge began to bluster. "Are you accusing me of something?" he demanded, pompously swelling himself up.

Graff laughed, although it was not a friendly one. "No, not at all Minister. We simply… Request, yes, that one of these Swords be placed in our custody, as a sign of magical cooperation between our countries, yes?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. Fudge would give in, he knew it, anything to avoid confrontation. He began to step forward, but felt Hermione place a light pressure on his arm. "Harry, please don't," she pleaded quietly.

Fudge's eyes scanned quickly over the opposition facing him, all of whom seemed to be toting glinting steel weapons of their own. Hermione, garnering Harry's attention again, nodded to them. "They've placed their wands in their swords. They can cast spells and use them as weapons."

Fudge gulped and began to speak, but Dumbledore interrupted him. "Cornelius, I'm not sure that…" He was viciously cut off by an angry gesture from Fudge.

"I'm in charge here, Dumbledore, and I'll thank you to remember that." He turned back to Graff. "Of, of course we would be willing to give you one Sword. In fact, we happen to have one, I believe called Stonecutter right here." He motioned for the Sword bearing Auror to step forward.

Harry tugged against Hermione's arm. "Please, Harry just let it go."

He looked sharply at her. "I can't Hermione. Please… Stay back. I love you." And when he said it, Hermione suddenly had a feeling it might be the last time. He broke free of her grip and stepped in front of the man who was bringing Stonecutter forward.

"Minister Fudge," he began, "I may not have any authority here, but I do know one thing. We cannot let these Swords be spread across the globe. They are far to dangerous to be handled idly. In fact, I would personally be willing to give up my own Sword so that it might not be used for good or ill."

Graff stepped forward quickly. "If you vould give it up, then might I-"

"I didn't say give it up to you," Harry said coldly. "The only way you are getting Stonecutter or Shieldbreaker is if you pry them from my cold, dead fingers."

Fudge made a soft gurgling noise of terror, while Graff's falsely jovial face turned to cold fury. "If that is the vay you vish it, Mr. Potter." He and his companions spun away, returning to their group.

Fudge noticeably relaxed a bit. "Well, maybe they won't fight after all."

"I would not count on that, Cornelius," murmured Dumbledore, pulling out his wand. "I would advise you to prepare to defend yourself."

All around Harry, wizards were pulling their wands. Harry lifted Shieldbreaker, as its pounding began. He could see the Durmstrang wizards stiffening and placing their weapons at the ready. Harry tensed.

All at once, hundreds of curses and jinxes exploded across the clearing. Harry could hear a dull rush of magical energy flowing about him as his side fired back. The Durmstrang students charged, blasting all the while.

Dozens of jets of light arced towards Harry, yet none could come within the arc suddenly drawn by Shieldbreaker. With a furious measure of hammer strikes, it dissolved their energy upon its blade, spinning and twirling with impossible speed. Harry could feel his hands binding to the hilt as the energy of the Sword moved him forwards.

More spells burst about him, yet none came close to hitting him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville somehow avoiding all attacks with the luck of Coinspinner, while Ron seemed unaffected by any spell which actually struck him as the mill saw wail of Townsaver pierced the air.

Harry was given pause for just a moment when he glanced to his right. Dumbledore was under constant assault, yet somehow, the old man moved with the speed of a jungle cat, deflecting spells this way and that, simultaneously firing his own curses back at the attackers. The sheer force of some of his spells sent a wave of energy washing over Harry.

Harry turned back to face the attackers and found one standing right in front of him. The boy pointed his sword point directly at Harry. "Stupefy!" Shieldbreaker, almost disdainfully Harry imagined, batted the spell away. The other boy, who could not have been more than 17 gaped openly at Harry for a moment, then rage clouding his face, struck. Shieldbreaker instantly parried with a note, and the next strike shattered the boy's blade into shrapnel, the breaking wand inside exploding in a coruscating wave of light and sound. Before Harry could even think about stopping, Shieldbreaker swung back around, slashing through the other boy's torso, spilling his blood on the grass. With a horrified look on his face, the boy collapsed to his knees and fell head first and did not stir.

Harry would have stood stock still for a moment in absolute shock, but Shieldbreaker remorselessly pulled him forward into the fray. He was met by two other boys, who raised their weapons harshly and moved to strike. Harry leapt back, trying to keep them out of Shieldbreaker's reach. "Don't come any nearer," he pleaded, "I don't want to hurt you."

That gave the two pause for a moment. One noticed the scar on his forehead. "You may be the famous Harry Potter, but you're still just a man," he sneered, and began to move forward again, the other just behind him.

On the contrary, thought Harry bitterly, with this Sword in hand, I am far more than a man, but also far less. I am a killer. A brutal, merciless, invincible killer.

The first boy fired a curse, which was deftly blocked by a swipe of Harry's Sword, the backstroke parrying a thrust from the other boy. The Sword snapped up to guard a slash by the first, swinging back around to block the next, the force of that blow knocking the second back. Then Shieldbreaker went on the attack, and swung a blinding arc at the first boy, who brought his gleaming weapon to meet the slash. But where the two met, only one remained. Harry screamed in utter horror as the Sword swung back around, slicing off the boy's arm at the elbow, wrenching through flesh and bone alike. His cry of pain was cut short by his gasp as the great Sword transfixed his body. The life drained from his eyes as he slid off the blade.

The second boy lay on his back on the ground, eyes wide with terror. He fumbled for his sword, sending curses at Harry. But nothing could penetrate Shieldbreaker's pounding swipes. Shieldbreaker slowly pulled Harry forward. "Run," Harry panted, trying to hold back, "just run." The boy stared for an instant, and then scrambled to his feet and stumbled away.

All around Harry the battle seemed to be a dull roaring sound. He stood for moment, not wanting to do anything, not wanting to kill again. But then he saw it. Hermione was being backed up, faced with five Durmstrang students. Thus far, she seemed to be alright, but she couldn't hold them off for long. His blood was pounding in his ears and he didn't even notice his legs carrying him at a sprint for her. Just before he reached the first student, his mouth opened in a horrible battle scream, seemingly of its own volition. The boy turned, yelped a short warning, before he was cut down by the blinding flash of Shieldbreaker's edge. The others turned to face him and leapt to the attack. The slashed as a unit, but somehow, none could come close to Harry. The Sword flashed all around his, drawing an arc of gleaming steel, blasting their weapons into twisted fragments, carving up their bodies indistinguishably. In seconds, it was over. Harry stopped and turned to Hermione, when he realized his robes were spattered with blood.

She stared up at him, mouth slightly open, a silent gasp escaping her lips. Harry could see how he was reflected in her eyes, and he felt like he wanted to retch. He tried to throw away the Sword, but it was magically bound to his grip. He felt like falling to his knees, but somehow couldn't.

He spotted movement in the corner of his eye. Graff had just blasted back one of the English wizards and had turned for Harry. There was a manic glint in his eye. "You may have defeated some of my students, Potter, but you vill not defeat me." He sent spells flying at Harry.

Harry, helpless to do anything, let Shieldbreaker's magic flow as it slashed apart the jets of light fired by Graff. Graff's eyes narrowed as he closed on Harry. Just then, Graff was struck by a Disarming Curse, sending his wand flying. He stood for a moment dumbly, and went diving for his wand. He missed it by several feet, and found Harry blocking his path.

"You did this," Harry muttered darkly, "It was because of you all these people are fighting and even dying today. Your fault." He let Shieldbreaker's magic take him and slashed at Graff with all his might. But something happened. Or rather, nothing happened. The steel of Shieldbreaker had passed harmlessly through Graff's chest, leaving no mark.

Graff started with intense shock. Harry blinked, and attacked again, but once more, the blade had no effect. Graff, seizing his opportunity, attacked Harry barefisted. Hermione screamed nearby, but seemed rooted to her spot. Harry felt his energy being sapped somehow, growing weaker and weaker as Graff wrestled with him. Suddenly, there was a flash of steel behind Graff and he screamed, releasing Harry and dropping to the ground. Ron stood behind him, Townsaver in hand.

"You looked like you needed a hand, mate," he said, with a sardonic smirk.

Harry breathed heavily. His fight with Graff seemed to have drained him. All around them, the fight seemed to be dying down. Harry spotted Dumbledore in the midst of it all, disabling opponent after opponent effortlessly. The pounding of Shieldbreaker slowed and quieted, eventually stopping a minute later. He let it slip from his hands, the point resting in the dirt.

Harry felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you alright?"

He turned to her, swallowing hard. "I thought I was going to die there, when Graff attacked me." He stared hard at her, his eyes filled with what might have been. She looked back, lower lip trembling slightly, before she reached out and embraced him. He held her tightly and bent to kiss her. He heard her sob softly as their lips parted contact, and looked to see her eyes brimming with tears.

"I don't ever want to lose you," she whispered.

"I don't ever want to leave you," he murmured back. He held her tight, robes soaked with blood on that open field, dark clouds filling the sky with gloom.

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed, and who will review THIS chapter! Thanks to: Sarahkitty, HermioneGrangerSnogsHarryPotter, yurimionepotter, Hallie, SoulShine, AnimeFanatic, padawanleia, slyphiad, micah, Alexia Potter, Batgirl, Eric Wilke, XhaLe, and akcutten.

Questions:

Sarahkitty: I have plans for Shieldbreaker ;)

Yurimionepotter: Draco is not there. He's off with the baddies. He'll be back later, though

AnimeFanatic: Well, as much as I'd like to say, I must keep up my streak of ambiguousness and say you WILL find out eventually.

Batgirl: Sorry, not much Hero!Neville right now, but there will be some later. A couple things have to happen first.S