Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company are owned by the illustrious JK Rowling. The Swords of Power are owned by Fred Saberhagen. A few bit characters from other chapters are more or less my own.
A/N: Yes, I know, it took forever for this chapter to come out. It's not like college is easy, you know. But in the end, the pokers and prodders got the best of me. And thanks to Nic for beta-ing for me. You're the best, "sis."
This chapter is dedicated to those determined souls who managed to get me to update. Thanks guys… I think.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: CHANCES AND CHOICES
There was a muted silence in the Gryffindor Common Room that evening. Dumbledore, Fudge, Reynolds, and a few members of the Order had gone to check conditions at the Ministry. They hadn't yet returned, after being gone for over two hours already. Harry sat, a stony look of despair etched on his face, staring into the fire. All this pain, all this destruction, all this death in the past several weeks. All because of these pieces of magical steel.
He recalled the words of Mr. Ollivander, who had sold Harry his wand. The Swords had great power. But the way they were being used, leveraged for simple human ambition and greed; that was terrible, horrific. These tools which could be put so such great use, benefit humanity so much were pawns in a shell game being played between good and evil. And as he pondered, he really had to ask himself if such power was something humanity was meant to possess? He wasn't sure. Earlier, he had been so drunk in the power they had given him, but now, he found himself realizing that was the true danger behind them, that they did give one such a feeling of power. How then, did he stop himself, prevent himself from becoming that evil he despised? Did that condemn him, no matter what Hermione said?
"Sometimes we're given another chance."
Harry blinked. As much as he did not wish to admit it, Snape had actually been right for once. Hermione knew he wasn't evil, wasn't like Voldemort. So did Ron, and Dumbledore. They had given him another chance.
Hermione sat beside him. "Hey," she said, grasping his hand. He turned to look at her, smiling slightly. She smiled back at him. "Well, that's an improvement at least. You should smile more, Harry."
"I know. It's just hard sometimes, with everything that's happened. The waiting isn't helping either. I mean… I just want to know what happened. How can he keep hitting us like this, so fast? It doesn't seem possible."
"He's no doubt feeling pretty confident right now. He does have Shieldbreaker and Doomgiver now, after all," commented Ron.
Harry nodded. "That's true. But you'd think he'd need time to recuperate from his losses. We hit him pretty good here, didn't we?"
Ron looked down for a moment. "You-Know-Who doesn't exactly care about other people's lives, Harry." Harry had to agree with that. Voldemort certainly didn't care about other's lives at all. Ron cleared his throat. "So, Malfoy was evidently pretty deep into the Death Eaters, wasn't he?"
"I think it's more that… You wouldn't be able to take Doomgiver from him," said Hermione, thinking deeply. "If you did, it'd reciprocate, and not allow itself to be taken anyways, wouldn't it? He probably got to go in exchange for the Sword. Whether he cares about life or not, he doesn't spend his followers utterly needlessly."
Harry pursed his lips, weighing this. "Yeah, that seems fairly reasonable. I guess it doesn't really matter, does it? We've got him locked up."
Indeed at that very moment Draco Malfoy was locked up in the Hogwarts dungeons, which were getting quite a bit more use lately than it had in some time.
Ron grunted his assent, as the portrait hole swung open, revealing Remus Lupin. Harry stood up as he approached, as did Ron and Hermione. Harry noticed Neville hovering a distance away, and beckoned him over. Neville hesitated, then approached.
"Harry," began Lupin, "I know you would want to be notified as soon as possible, so I got Dumbledore to allow me to come tell you. Come with me." With that, he led them out into the hall. They trailed him to a nearby office. Lupin closed the door behind them.
"Well, I won't try to sugar coat it. The attack was bad. Really bad. We're still not sure how many have been killed or wounded, but it's a lot. Your father's fine, Ron, so don't worry about that. Voldemort was there, with Shieldbreaker. He alone caused an extreme amount of damage. Nobody was able to get close enough unarmed to attack him, not with his Death Eaters around him. Doomgiver protected the core of his forces, too. It was a straight out slaughter."
Hermione closed her eyes, her hand reaching for Harry's and gripping it tightly. He held on tightly, setting his jaw. Ron stood there stonily, eyes cast downward slightly. Neville reacted with bitter silence.
"It gets worse."
Harry looked at Lupin. "Worse? How could it possibly get worse than that?"
Lupin had a tired look on his face. "You'd be surprised. Voldemort has apparently trained some dragons to follow his will. He's assigned dragon riders to lead them into battle. As you know, it's almost impossible to kill a dragon. They're far too magical, their scales too thick and sturdy."
Hermione nodded. "Historically, Dragonslayers have had the highest casualty rate of any profession, even higher than Aurors or other highly dangerous work."
"Whoa, wait a minute, what did you say?" asked Harry incredulously. "Dragonslayers? There are people who kill dragons for a living?"
Hermione nodded and Ron chimed in to the conversation. "Yeah, it's kind of one of those things kids dream about doing, but in actuality, it's really tough work. There aren't many dragons that need to be hunted down, but there're enough, and the money's good… If you survive."
Lupin nodded. "Which is why our situation is becoming much more dire. Voldemort knows he has the power to counter face the Ministry head on. Although all the Aurors who were injured in the battles at Hogwarts have now been healed thanks to Woundhealer, several have been killed, and we have no weapon against Doomgiver or Shieldbreaker. And these dragon riders…" Lupin shook his head.
Harry cursed, turning away from Lupin. If it wasn't one thing it was another. How was Voldemort focusing all this power here and now? How had he rebuilt his forces so quickly?
But Harry knew, in the back of his mind, what the truth was. Voldemort had not assembled so massive an army. Rather, he now had the backing of the Swords, weapons which there was no counter to. His losses must have seemed irrelevant compared to the gains he made. Now he was concentrating on causing all the carnage he could. They themselves still possessed Woundhealer, Wayfinder, Townsaver, Stonecutter, and now Sightblinder. An enormous cache of power right there. But against Shieldbreaker, they were reduced to nothing but well forged swords. Any weapon was rendered useless in the face of its hammer blows.
All this death, destruction, pain, and grief over these items of extreme magical power. He shuddered as he thought about what the Swords had done to him, to all of his friends. He had become a killer. Ron had killed too… Why wasn't he all broken up? his mind wondered. And yet again, the greatest question of all swirled in his thoughts.
Were the Swords-was this power-something humanity was meant to possess? Could humans resist the temptation of this ultimate power that they represented? Or would they simply succumb to the evil lurking in the dark places of men's hearts? Harry didn't have all the answers. But he did know one thing; that he hadn't handled the power. That to simply be able to do something did not mean that one should. No matter how much power one had, that did not give them the right to use it to subjugate all lesser people to their will. That was where Voldemort stood, and Harry was no Voldemort. Hermione knew this, Harry mused. That indeed was a difference between him and the Dark Lord. That he regretted the deaths he caused, and he appreciated that power alone was not a license.
He turned his attention back to Lupin, quieting his emotions and suffusing himself with calm. "So what do we do now?"
Lupin breathed deeply. "We don't know yet. There's so many variables, so many things that have to be taken care of first. Dumbledore's calling the Order together to try and work out a plan, but truthfully Harry, I have no idea what we're going to do. We just have to hope a solution presents itself."
Ron spoke up. "Is the Order coming here?"
Lupin nodded. "This is the most secure facility. Normally the Order is spread. Were we all to congregate in one place too often, we would be easy prey if Voldemort ever found out where we hid. We have our safehouses around the countryside, obviously. But as far a permanent headquarters, we're better off mobile."
Hermione frowned, deep in thought. "Wouldn't it be possible to protect someplace with the Fidelius Charm though? Even Voldemort couldn't penetrate that if you chose someone he could never coerce."
"That is true, Hermione. Dumbledore did consider that, and in fact, many of our safehouses are protected by that Charm. But Dumbledore appreciates that even he might be able to be forced into giving up information. He didn't want to take that risk." Lupin paused. "In any case, I had better be going. I have some work to do, and the Order will be arriving tonight. I'll try to see if Dumbledore will let you sit in," he added with a small smile. With that, he turned on his heel and departed, leaving the four of them alone.
They stood in silence for a moment, considering all that Lupin had told them. Harry noticed Ron leaning against the wall, arms folded and brow scrunched in deep thought.
"What's on your mind, Ron?" he asked.
Ron looked up, jolted out of his thoughts. "Well… Why can't we just use Wayfinder to find Voldemort and take him out, you know? You used it to find me and Hermione," he added, jerking his chin at her.
Hermione frowned. "I don't think that would work, Ron. Shieldbreaker, which we can presume Voldemort has with him at all, overrides all the other Swords as far as we can tell. It simply wouldn't work. Besides which, I don't know if we even have the available manpower at this moment."
Harry grimaced. "You're probably right, Hermione. All the injured Aurors are back on their feet… But the numbers we've seen Voldemort throw at us are pretty impressive too… And he has Shieldbreaker and Doomgiver."
"Those damn Swords," Ron growled, "are dictating our actions at every bloody turn. It's like they're ruling our actions instead of the other way around!"
Grimly smiling, Harry nodded. "Exactly… Which is the reason why when this is over, I'm giving up whichever Sword I have in possession. And I encourage the rest of you to do the same."
Ron blinked. "What was that?"
Neville swallowed. "I think you're right Harry… If… If I get another Sword, I'll give it up in the end, too."
Harry traded a grateful look with Neville. "Don't you see, Ron? I don't think we were meant to have things of this nature. They're too powerful for mankind to be trusted with them. They should be buried. And buried deep."
Ron looked at his feet, scratching his head. "I can see your point, Harry, it's just… I guess it made me feel special, having a Sword."
"Oh, Ron," said Hermione quietly, "you don't need a Sword for that. You were you. That's enough for us."
Ron looked up at her, his old grin returning to his face after a moment. "You mean that?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course, I mean that, Ron. We're your friends, and you're special to us, even when you're being a prat."
"Now, when am I ever a prat?"
"Frequently."
Despite himself, Ron laughed loudly, joined by Harry and Neville a moment later. Hermione visibly tried to hold back, but a grin crept onto her face, and soon enough she joined their chuckling.
"Alright then," said Harry with a sigh, "we had better get some rest. It's been a long few days."
"Yeah, and besides, isn't Quidditch starting soon?"
"How on earth can you think of that at a time like this?"
"Well, it's better than thinking about how behind we are on homework."
They busied themselves with work for the rest of the night, the quiet in the common room lending itself to intense concentration, though Harry did notice the silence was still rather unnatural. People started turning in around 11 at night, Neville departing at near midnight. Eventually it was only Harry, Ron and Hermione in the common room, although Ron was unconscious, facedown in his Charms book.
Harry glanced over at Ron, a small smile creeping over his face. "Do you reckon we should just leave him there?"
Hermione smiled back. "Perhaps. He does look rather peaceful there." She looked up, to find Harry staring at her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"
"No, I was just thinking… About how beautiful you are."
Hermione blushed faintly. "Well, thank you, Harry." She paused. "We really haven't had much time together lately, have we?"
Harry sighed slightly. "No… It's just been so… I don't know, hectic I guess is the word. With Voldemort and all… I really have wanted to spend time with you, Hermione. I love you… But there just-"
"Hasn't been time, I know. And I love you, too, Harry. But there'll be time. We have our entire lives ahead of us. We were lucky, you know… Things like this, what's happened between us… They don't happen often." Her hand sought his, gripping it tightly. He squeezed back, leaning in to kiss her. She bent forward, their lips meeting, lightly, before pressing more firmly. Her hands ran up his arms to rest on his shoulders. He was just reaching across the table to wrap his arms around her waist when the portal door swung open.
Standing in the entrance was Remus Lupin, a shaggy black dog beside him. Any irritation Harry might have felt at being interrupted vanished as a grin spread across his face at the sight of Sirius. Hermione smiled as well, and gave Ron a poke in his side, startling him awake.
"Wha? What happened?" he said in a yawning sort of fashion. "What time is it?"
"You fell asleep, Ron. It's past midnight," Hermione informed him before turning back to Lupin and Sirius.
Clearing his throat, Lupin wasted no time. "The meeting's about to start. Dumbledore agreed to let you all come; we're here to collect you and bring you up." He looked around. "Did Neville go to bed?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, he was dead tired… He'd want to be there, I think, but we'll let him sleep." The others assented and got up to follow Lupin and Sirius, who wagged his tail and took up the rear.
Lupin led them down from Gryffindor Tower, to a part of the castle near Dumbledore's office, heading into a door Harry was sure he had never noticed before. Seated around a conference table were over a dozen wizards of varying ages. At the head of the table was Dumbledore. Harry recognized only a few of them, including McGonagall, Birmingham, Mrs. Figg, and Mundungus Fletcher, who appeared to be asleep. Sitting in one corner, arm in a sling, was Arthur Weasley.
"Dad!" cried Ron, running over to him. "Are you alright? We heard about the attack, but no one said anything about-"
"I'm fine, Ron. Now, please, sit down and pay attention. Dumbledore decided you three should be here, and I think you should listen to what goes on here."
Ron nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off his father. Harry noticed that he appeared to be rather worse for wear, face dirtied, fresh cuts bandaged. Remembering what Dumbledore had announced about the attack, he knew even so Mr. Weasley was one of the lucky ones.
He sat between Ron and Hermione, fixing his gaze on Dumbledore. Sirius had transformed back and was sitting across from him. Dumbledore looked at Harry for a moment before beginning.
"As I'm sure you're all aware, Voldemort launched an attack against the Ministry of Magic earlier today. Many lives were lost. Final tallies are still coming in, but it doesn't look good, to say the least. Some of you might already know that Severus Snape, our principal intelligence asset within Voldemort's organization, was discovered and is currently in the Hogwarts medical ward. This leaves us seriously in need of knowledge about Voldemort's activities. To add further to the current crisis, Voldemort has trained several dragon riders. Now, there are some options with dealing with these situations, but some are less viable than others. Are there any suggestions, first of all?"
Lupin leaned forward. "Did Snape make contact with any potential double agents before being captured? I think at this point, it'd be impossible to recruit any new contacts within Voldemort's circle unless they've already been approached and might help us."
Sirius nodded. "Though now, Voldemort certainly is checking his ranks, and we have to consider Snape might have been under observation for some time before now. Anyone who might claim to be interested could also be trying to infiltrate the Order."
"Yes, I have considered all this. I need you three," he said, indicating Lupin, Sirius, and Mundungus, who was still sleeping, "to make a few very discreet inquiries for me. I'll talk to you after the meeting. As for the dragon riders…"
A tall wizard Harry didn't know spoke up. "If I could, Dumbledore?" The old headmaster nodded. "I've been hearing rumors of a dragon hunter in the Ukraine region, who took down a few dangerous dragons recently escaped from the preserve in Romania. I haven't been able to find out much about him, but what I've heard is that he's the best there is. He might be able to help us."
Mr. Weasley sat up. "My son Charlie works at the preserve. I could ask him to check around, see what he can sniff out."
Harry's head was so spinning with information that he barely noticed Dumbledore making a few other announcements. He felt Hermione's hand squeezing his own, and he turned and smiled at her. The next thing he knew, chairs were clattering, and people were standing. The meeting was over.
"That was fast," commented Ron.
Sirius grinned at him. "Well, we don't have all day to sit around eating tea and crumpets, now do we? Come on, I'll fill you in on what you missed," he said, winking at Harry.
Harry flushed a bit at having been so blatantly not paying much attention. He followed Sirius and Lupin out the door. "So, er… What did I miss then?"
"Sirius and I are heading to the Ukraine. We need to contact this dragon slayer and get his help, and quick. Arthur's coming along too, so he can get in contact with Charlie to help us, who knows the area a lot better. Hopefully it won't take long," added Lupin.
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, people like that are always talking about their glorious kills and so on."
Lupin appeared to struggle to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Which is, of course, why we don't know who he is, Padfoot."
"Oh, shut up, Moony."
"Wait." They looked at Hermione, who had her eyes closed in thought. She looked up, opening her eyes. "You might try looking for someone carrying a Sword."
"A Sword? Why is that; Dumbledore never did fill us in on all the details."
Harry saw Ron's face dawn with realization a second after his own. "One of them is called Dragonslicer," said Hermione. "And from what we know of it, it would certainly make hunting dragons far easier."
"And it could also explain why we've never heard of him before; if he just acquired the Sword and learned its powers, we'd not have known," remarked Lupin thoughtfully.
Sirius looked at the three of them. "Well, anyways, it's late, and you three should probably get to bed. Oh, and Harry? Don't worry."
Harry started. "What's there to worry about?" he asked sardonically, "It's not like Voldemort has weapons of unbelievable power or anything."
Sirius gave him a devil-may-care grin. "Well, it's not like it can get any worse, right?"
Despite himself, Harry laughed. "Alright then. Good luck."
Dumbledore's voice came from behind them. "Yes, luck is always good to have, I've found. Failing that, it's always nice to have a backup plan, too." His eyes twinkled as he held out Wayfinder to Lupin. He took it and nodded to Dumbledore, and he and Sirius left.
"Harry?" Harry turned to look at Dumbledore. "You godfather is quite right you know. Things cannot possibly get much worse… And I do not think that they will."
Harry frowned. "Why is that, Professor?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Why, because I believe, Harry. And you will find that when things look their bleakest, it is always important to believe. You may find someday, that belief will be enough to get you through the most difficult of trials. And if I remember correctly… It already has." His gaze shifted to Hermione.
I'm going to save her. I will save her.
It seemed eons ago he had spoken those words to Ginny in the dungeons, before embarking on his mission to find Woundhealer. He had believed then… More than that, he had known.
He looked up at the Headmaster. "I do believe, sir." He gripped Hermione's hand tightly, drawing strength from her touch. "I won't fail. I can't fail."
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed, SoulShine, XhaLe, harryherm84, Rain, ariene phoenixfyre, NiaSphinx, slyphiad, akcutten, and iwpotter.
XhaLe: About Woundhealer… Well, sometimes I forget things. And give them a break, they were in the middle of a massive battle. The Nietzsche quote… Well, I would have, except it was in dialogue and seemed a bit inappropriate. I might go back and change that later though.
Ariene phoenixfyre: Yep, Mr. Weasley was there, slightly injured in it.