Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and his associated characters in any way shape or form. I wish I did. Having all that money would be nice. The Swords of Power are owned by Fred Saberhagen. I'd like to have his money too.
A/N: A long time coming. Yet I wrote over half of it in three nights. Stupid me. Thanks to VirtualFaerie/MalfoyMyFerret for the beta.
CHAPTER TWELVE: CROSSING THE LINE
Harry stood slowly, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her up. He saw Neville approaching him. His Sword, too, was bloody. Ron looked at him.
"You alright Neville?"
Neville looked rather pale, but nodded. "I… I'm fine. I dunno about the… the person I stabbed though." He gulped and looked sick. "They could die." He turned a plaintive and almost panicking look towards Harry. "I didn't want… I never wanted to be a killer."
Harry could only nod, as he looked down at Shieldbreaker, its blade covered with the blood of 7 people, all, he was sure, now dead from their wounds. It suddenly hit him in the stomach to realize what he'd done, and he felt again like vomiting again. Instead, he only fell to his knees, shaking hard.
"Harry?" It was Professor Dumbledore. "What's happened?"
Harry was silent for a long time, unable to speak, to tell Dumbledore what he had done. "I… Professor… I've done something horrible."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment. "You struck down some of the Durmstrang students, yes?"
"Struck down?! I murdered them!" Harry screamed, collapsing in on himself. Hermione was instantly at his side, holding and rocking him gently. He tried to hold back his tears, but they could not be abated. As the salty drops flowed down his cheek, he imagined they tried to wash the blood from his being, but failed.
Ron looked down at Harry, unsure. "There was nothing you could have done," he offered. "The Swords they…they control you somehow. They direct you with a mind of their own."
Harry couldn't bring himself to look his friend in the eye, for fear of what Ron might see in his own. "Do you think that matters?" he whispered. "Does it make a difference?"
Hermione looked at him solemnly, her face as drawn as he had ever seen it. There was an aching sadness behind her eyes, a look that told him she shared in his pain. "It makes all the difference," she said softly.
There was silence for a moment as they all stood in a loose circle. Ron spoke up. "Harry, do you have any clue why you couldn't hurt Graff? I mean… Shieldbreaker can bloody kill anything, why not him?"
Harry shook his head. "No idea. It just… It wouldn't hurt him."
Hermione furrowed her brow in thought. "Harry… What was the verse in the Song of Swords for Shieldbreaker?"
Harry shook his head slowly, wondering for a moment how this could be important. He thought back to that day in Dumbledore's office when they had discovered the writing on the sheaths. "I shatter swords and splinter spears, none stands to Shieldbreaker, my point's-"
"Wait," muttered Hermione. Her forehead crinkled, and she thought hard. "Harry, did Graff have any weapon at all?"
Harry stared at her momentarily, confused as to how this was important. "No, not that I could see."
Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at Shieldbreaker as it glinted in the soft light filtering through the gray clouds. "None stands… Don't you get it Harry? None is able to stand. As in no weapon. If you're unarmed, Shieldbreaker can't hurt you!"
Harry stared dumfounded at the weapon, as a slight trickle of water began to fall from the sky. For all its power, Shieldbreaker did indeed have a weakness, and a terrible one at that. Harry felt a trembling as he recalled again how close he had been to dying. Black spots had appeared in his vision; his limbs had felt so numb. He felt as if his strength had been sapped away from his body slowly. His face stared off into an infinite distance, barely hearing Ron speak.
"And because it seems to bond to your hands during battle, you can't throw it away under those circumstances."
"For a Sword with so much power, that certainly is a glaring weakness," came a soft voice from behind them. Harry turned his ashen face towards the figure. It was the chief of Magical Law Enforcement, returned with several more Aurors. "Sorry we didn't get here in time to make a difference. But it's a little hard when you can't Apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds."
Dumbledore turned to him. "Quite alright Reynolds. The situation has resolved itself… Albeit in a much more brutal fashion than we would have preferred." He turned to look at the bodies dotting the field. "We took as many of them alive as possible. Unfortunately, there were some who did not survive…On both sides."
Reynolds set his jaw and nodded. The breeze rippled his cloak about him. He turned to the Aurors he had brought along with him. "Help get the wounded out of here and to St. Mungo's."
They nodded at his orders and helped carry the figures off. Reynolds moved off to help, returning a short time later. Within 10 minutes, the plain had been cleared of the casualties and only a handful of people were left; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dumbledore, Reynolds, Fudge and about a dozen others.
Harry looked about once more, then stood as the wind picked up and a light rain began to fall from the gray skies, sunlight reduced to a trickle filtering through the clouds. Harry shivered as he plucked Shieldbreaker from the earth, turning the harsh steel over in his hands, eyes piercing to the core of its terrible magic.
He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "It's time to go Harry. No need to remain here any longer." He nodded slowly to Dumbledore's words. He began to turn away, back to the weathered castle, pacing after the retreating figures before him.
A hammer struck.
Harry froze instantly. Another hammer blow rang out.
Hermione spun to gaze at him, her eyes wide. Dumbledore looked grave, eyes casting about the sky. Another strike of the hammer.
Shieldbreaker thrummed its power in Harry's hands. His grip was still loose, he noted. His hands had not yet bonded to the hilt. More important at this moment was that there was an enemy nearby. It seemed impossible. Just minutes after a previous attack, with their strength drained already, another attack on its way? Harry narrowed his eyes, had to blink them to rid the raindrops from his sight. There was some sort of treachery afoot.
Harry's eyes cast about, desperately trying to find the opponents Shieldbreaker told him must be there. Then he saw it. Movement just 100 yards away. Visibility was down to virtually nothing in the now driving rain pelting him. But through all the dank gloom, he saw the eyes. The red eyes of his most terrible enemy.
"Voldemort."
The black figures which rose from the field were indeed Death Eaters, new and old. Harry counted at least 40, against the score of Aurors and others that stood with himself. And Voldemort himself was there.
Suddenly, Harry spotted a smaller figure. He caught a glimpse of hair so blonde it was practically white. Malfoy. It had to be.
Harry growled low in his throat, started to move forward, only to find a soft yet firm hand grip his shoulder.
"No, Harry, you can't. You have to help the rest of us. Malfoy isn't worth it, not now." Hermione's brown eyes stared wide into his own. She was frightened, he could see it etched in every inch of her face. And he knew she should be; he had seen what Voldemort could do.
But there was something else. Voldemort, for all his power, was nothing against Harry in this instant. With Shieldbreaker, he was invincible. Voldemort would never attack him unarmed. He could end it now.
As if reading Harry's mind, Ron spoke up. "She's right Harry. You may be almost invulnerable with that, but that can't protect us all. We need your help." There was only the slightest quaver in Ron's voice that betrayed his own fear. Harry cast a glance over the assembled company. Many wore a look he had never seen before, and it sent a chill down his spine. (Impossible! He was invulnerable!)
They looked like men preparing themselves to die. Most of them did not expect to survive this battle. Death hovered about them in the air, a stink that would not go away. And Harry felt their bleak manner leaking onto him.
"Dumbledore!" A hissing voice rang out across the drenched field. "It ends here, old man!" And Voldemort brandished before him a Sword… Harry knew which it must be. Doomgiver, the Sword of Justice.
Dumbledore appeared the only calm person around them. "We stay together. Attack only when you have an opening. If they start using the Killing Curse, scatter. Remember you can't Apparate." He lifted his wand, ready to do what must be done. "Good luck."
Just then, a limp shape was thrown from the front ranks of the Death Eaters. Even at this distance, Harry recognized the hook nose and sallow face.
"Professor Snape? Merlin…"
"I think he's still alive," whispered Hermione, "His chest is still moving."
Harry spun, looking for a likely candidate. "Er…" His eyes landed on someone and he made a snap decision. "Neville, I need your help. I'll cover you, and you get Snape out of there."
Neville looked at him, eyes darting, face flushed. He nodded. Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Can you give us a little cover?"
It was Reynolds who answered. "We'll do what we can. Good luck Harry." He directed his wand towards the oncoming Death Eaters, now less than 50 yards distant.
They all had their wands out and ready, faces obscured behind their hooded robes. Voldemort hissed his order without further preamble. "ATTACK!"
The air was suddenly alive with curses of all shapes and sizes. These were no mere students now. These were all highly trained wizards doing battle. There was a return volley from the Ministry side. The bolts of light blasted across the field with the intensity and speed of a machine gun. It would be impossible to block them all.
But not for Harry. Dodging curses where he could, and blocking them with Shieldbreaker when he could not, he and Neville moved towards Snape's unconscious figure, off to the side of the battle. They were almost there. Harry checked; his hands were still free of the blade. He hadn't drawn blood yet this battle. He cast a quick look back. And it wasn't good.
Several Aurors were down, how many dead, he couldn't tell. Before them, many Death Eaters had also fallen. Dumbledore stood in the thick of it all, doing what he could to keep the others from breaking, disabling Death Eaters left and right. Ron himself stood in the center, just to Dumbledore's left, unharmed by even the Killing Curses which came his way. The shriek of Townsaver rose as he slashed through the attackers. Harry could see his face holding the icy concentration and heated rush of combat. He'd regret it later as well, Harry knew. He saw Hermione creeping carefully up behind Ron, Sword in hand. She held it horizontal and… stabbed Ron in the back!
"Bloody hell!" Harry yelled. Then he realized what it was. Hermione still held Wayfinder. She had run Ron through with Woundhealer. It would keep him from dying when the battle was over, and Townsaver's power left him. He turned his attention back to his task. Neville had reached Snape and grabbed his collar. He started slowly dragging him away from the battle. He looked and Harry and nodded. With a curt nod and a grim face, Harry turned back to the scene….
And found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy.
"So, Potter," he spat, "we meet again."
"You need new lines, Malfoy. That's got to be the oldest one in the book," Harry said with a sneer of his own. "I don't want to kill you, but if you force me, Merlin help me, I'll do it." And it suddenly stunned him how easily the words came. He would feel no remorse in killing Malfoy. None at all. An almost imperceptible shiver ran down his spine.
"Oh no, Potter, you won't be finishing me off today, I assure you. You see," he lifted his wand, "I happen to be unarmed." And with that he tossed it aside. An evil smile creased his narrow face.
Harry's eyes widened. How could he know? He had no time for that. He tried to throw away Shieldbreaker, to find his right hand was sticking to it. It drummed out its beat, insisting on combat. Harry did not listen. As Malfoy approached, he tried to leverage his hand off. Finally, it slipped away, and he cast the weapon aside as quickly as he could. Just as Malfoy leapt on him, he delivered a fist to the other boy's face.
"Oomph!" Malfoy was knocked down, but sprang to his feet quickly. He looked at Harry with a bloodied lip. "You'll pay for that, Potter."
"I don't think so!" Hermione was suddenly close by and she tossed Wayfinder at Harry. Harry deftly caught it, and shifted to face Malfoy. "Unarmed won't help you now. And don't think I don't know how to use this. Surrender."
Malfoy cast a look at his wand, only to find it coming to rest in Hermione's hand, having just summoned it. She pointed her own wand at Malfoy.
His face was twisted sickeningly, as if he couldn't believe his situation. He dropped to his knees.
"Stupefy!" Hermione Stunned Malfoy. "Don't want him running away later, and we can't bother guarding him." She looked around quickly. "Where's Shieldbreaker?"
Harry looked around too. He wasn't sure where he had thrown it, in his panic to rid himself of the weapon. Had it been his left, his right? He wasn't sure. "Well, it has to be nearby, doesn't it? I couldn't possibly have thrown it too far."
He was interrupted though, by the shadow that fell across him. He whirled. It was Voldemort himself. And he clutched in his grip Shieldbreaker.
Harry froze for a moment. This was something he was unprepared for. He had barely a thought of defending himself. But then he saw something. The Voldemort did not wear a Sword belt as the one he saw earlier had. He had one shot; he'd have no chance against Shieldbreaker or Voldemort in either case.
"Show me Voldemort!" he commanded of Wayfinder. It spun him away, to show Voldemort standing behind his minions.
Harry barely dodged the first thrust then, its leading edge biting through the damp air. He aimed his own wild attack, aiming to take off the man's head, but missed, slipping on the muddy ground. Hermione shot a curse at the man, whoever he was. The man apparently deemed Hermione a greater threat, because he dodged her spell and leapt towards her.
And was suddenly struck in the back by a blast of green light. Harry spun. A Death Eater had tried to use the Killing Curse on Hermione. But this Death Eater had inadvertently got in the way. The man fell and the Sword, sure to be Sightblinder, fell from his grasp. Its illusion faded, revealing a short, fat bald man. Wormtail. His shocked expression stared blankly out of dead eyes.
Harry scanned the battle again. The fight was pretty much at a stalemate by this point. The Death Eaters couldn't get by Ron to destroy the rest of the Ministry forces, and Ron couldn't use Townsaver on attack effectively. Harry and Hermione rushed back to the group, forgetting for the moment about Shieldbreaker, pausing only to scoop up Sightblinder.
"Professor," breathed Harry, "what's our next move?"
Dumbledore turned a face dirtied from the battle to him, dirty yet still with those twinkling blue eyes. "We wait Harry. The Order is on its way. They will be here shortly."
Harry's eyes widened for a moment. In the midst of all this, Dumbledore had managed to get word to the Order? But what about all those other witches and wizards who had just been here? Surely the battle was making a ruckus. Harry pointed this out to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore shook his head. "They're deep within the castle. The hospital wing is on the opposite side of the grounds. Nobody will have heard anything. And we can't spare a single man to go as a messenger." With that, he let loose a rapid quartet of spells, knocking down another Death Eater.
The battle seemed almost as if at a standstill. People were being disabled now and again, but both seemed to have moved to defensive postures. Voldemort's main Sword, Doomgiver, was limited in its uses as an offensive weapon. As long as they did not direct attacks against Voldemort, they were safe from its power. Townsaver, likewise, was defensive. The Death Eaters dared not approach Ron and his blood-streaked Sword, but they couldn't get past him to face the others. All efforts were frustrated.
Harry peered through the pounding rain, shivering uncontrollably. He was soaked through, and his glasses fogged somewhat. Suddenly he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He turned. It was his godfather, Sirius Black. "Didn't expect us to miss the fun, did you?" he asked with a wolfish grin. Right behind him was Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.
They drew their wands and let loose. The blasts of light coruscated through the rain, striking enemies and sending Voldemort's forces falling back. One of them tripped, though not hit. He looked down and grabbed at the ground, then ran over to Voldemort. Voldemort took one look at the man...And the Sword he carried. "Retreat! We have what we came for!" The Death Eaters didn't have to be told twice. With that, they turned tail and fled into the gloom, picking up as many of their fallen as they could, but leaving most.
The Ministry wizards broke out in cheer. Harry could hear Fudge stammering an apology to Dumbledore for ever doubting him. But Harry barely paid attention. He felt Hermione grab him and pull him into a hug. "We made it Harry! We…" Her voice trailed off at his sullen expression. "What's wrong?"
"We lost Shieldbreaker. I know it. There's no other reason for him to have left. They have it."
He cast a look around. Saw Neville, crumpled on his knees. He was Swordless. And he was in terrible grief. Yet there still seemed a flicker of his earlier heroism. Harry blinked, and jogged over, Hermione behind him with Ron approaching from the other side, removing Woundhealer from himself as he went.
"Neville, what-"
"It left me. I only let go of it for a moment. Slipped in the mud while carrying Snape back, almost got hexed while I was down. But… it had disappeared." He turned his round face up to them. "Coinspinner's gone. And so is its luck."
Harry felt his own knees go weak. He fell to the ground, letting Sightblinder fall from his grasp. They had won the battle, but at a terrible price. He had become a killer this day. Who knows who now lay dead. Coinspinner had abandoned Neville for parts unknown. And now the mightiest of all Swords, Shieldbreaker, lay in the hands of Voldemort.
A/N: If you're confused why Hermione still saw him as Harry while he was holding Sightblinder, it's because she trusts Harry, so saw him for true. Reviews. Thanks to: Eric Wilke, micah, VirtualFaeria/MalfoyMyFerret, gdssofdarkness, padawanleia, Batgirl, WhiteLight, weatherbee, yurimionepotter, Xhale, SoulShine, akcutten, perenelle, and slyphiad.
Questions:
Xhale: Admittedly, yes, I've made a couple errors. They are nobody's fault but my own. But I'll try to satisfy you. The thing with Harry, well, he was planning on staying down there until she showed up or he fell asleep. So his note would say so. If he was still awake, the note wouldn't have been seen. With Lupin…You'll recall that he was at the Ministry. However, he wasn't in contact with Dumbledore after that point. Which is why they didn't know.
SoulShine: Brass knuckles are a weapon. No weapon at all is the only thing that works.