HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATH OF THE OLD RULE
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
CHAPTER 13
THE VERY ESSENCE OF COURAGE
The night was very dark, clouds hiding the moon and casting a menacing blanket over the eerie Forbidden Forest. From his vantage observation point in the middle a dense thicket of shrubs sitting atop a small hillock, the informant had an unobstructed view of the caretaker's hut and - especially - of the large back window through which much of the inside was visible. It was doubtful that anybody could see him, with his black cloak and hood and the total absence of light. He, however, could observe very well the comings and goings of the two individuals inside the cabin - feeling safe, they hadn't pulled the curtains, and so each of their face was plainly visible as they sat and ate together. It was a good thing that he could read lips. He would most certainly get a glimpse of what they were saying …
"Come on, both of you! I need something … valuable!", the spy muttered to himself, knowing full well that whatever conversation there would be would probably be of no value to him - or his employer.
But as he concentrated harder to read the lips of the young woman in the cabin, her companion suddenly bent across the table, to start kissing her passionately.
"Oh, great … Not again! Unbelievable, these two!"
Feeling reasonably confident, he took down his hood, and parted his long, greasy black hair to the side. He looked at the time.
"Damn! This is going to be a long night, man …"
Looking back towards the window, he saw that the couple had stopped kissing, but that the young woman was flustered and still laughing, as she was attempting to untie her ponytail to let her hair down. Thomas Winslow had rarely seen his Professor, Hermione Granger, so happy and unguarded. A profound pain crept up from the pit of his stomach, bringing him to his early childhood. There was a time when he and his older sister had been happy as such. And then, their family had been destroyed as Voldemort had raised to power … Victims of circumstances, they had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the middle of a battle between Voldemort's kronies and a band of young witches and wizards trying to stand up for what they believed in. Only he, Thomas, had survived.
He sighed heavily. His big sister would have been Hermione's age, by now. He missed her.
All of the sudden, he caught himself.
"Come on now, this is not the time for emotional reminiscing … I have work to do. I need a lure …"
Thomas Winslow grinned as he thought of what he was about to do the next day. He would, very deliberately, send an owl to Malfoy and invite him for a meeting for the following week.
"Same time, same place!" he laughed out loud, knowing full well that Malfoy would walk right into his worst enemy: Harry Potter.
Truth was, Winslow detested his cousin. He had been, during all their childhood, a pretentious and conceited little boy, who thought he had a lot when in fact he had really nothing - no friends, no standing, not even an ounce of talent. The only thing he had, in fact, was money - and his "daddy", to buy his way out of trouble and protect him when he bullied someone he couldn't face alone. And now that he was all grown-up, he had become an unbelievably arrogant, despicable, disgusting individual with no morals, no allegiance, and no well-defined path to follow. He lived the life of a playboy, seeking pleasure and living for himself above all, despite the pain he caused around him.
Thomas could not stand the sight of him. It had taken everything he had to pretend to become his ally. But tonight, he was triumphant. He had been monitoring the comings and goings of Hermione and Harry for a week now, and was pretty sure of the time he needed to set for the appointment.
Malfoy was sure he was leading his own little operation, to try to get even with Potter.
"What an imbecile", Winslow thought out loud. "An arrogant, narrow-minded, stupid imbecile! And he still has the pretension to think he can mess around with someone like Maldemort!"
Thomas Winslow still couldn't believe it. When Malfoy had approached him to do "spy" work, he had almost laughed in his face. But incredibly, Malfoy had been dead serious. After some thought, Thomas had nevertheless accepted. He hated Malfoy so much, and without a doubt this "alliance" would lead to a golden opportunity to bring about - once and for all - Draco's downfall.
He closed his eyes, and smiled with pleasure. Opportunity time had come at last, after so many years.
"It will soon be time for you to find out, dear Draco", muttered Thomas, "that I work for someone who is more powerful than you can ever dream of imagining. Time for you to see who my real allegiance is to …"
He couldn't help but start laughing coldly, hysterically almost, until he realized that if he couldn't be seen, he could still be heard …
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"Do you think it's safe for us to be here, Harry?" HermhHHh
Hermione kept looking left and right, trying to remain unnoticed. It was hard to do, however, sitting in a Quidditch stadium.
Harry turned to her, and winced at the appearance of her face. "Well, Hermione, after the charm you've put on yourself to look so … different, I doubt anyone could recognize you. I mean - and this is quite hard for me to fathom - you look like a black-haired version of my Aunt Petunia!"
Harry started laughing heartily, and added. "I will have to live with this image for the rest of my life, you know!"
Hermione gave him a genuine smile, but unfortunately it brought attention to the undeniably equine features of her borrowed face.
"Well, Harry Potter, you look rather ghastly yourself. I mean, did you have to go for the old and decrepit look?"
They both exploded in laughter, looking at each other's with fake expressions of disgust. Harry's hair was completely white, and a long Dumbledore-looking beard had been added to his features. An aging charm had given him the wrinkles necessary, and his eyes had been changed to grey. No one could ever have recognized them in this attire.
"All right, then!", replied Hermione enthusiastically … "I'm happy! I really wanted to attend Ron's first professional Quidditch game!"
Harry was also looking forward to the game, but remained uneasy nevertheless. The match had not been cancelled, despite the high security risks involved. That was why he had insisted they take the precaution of changing their appearance - just in case. Even though there were no Muggles at Quidditch games, not all wizards were well-intentioned, and one could recognize Hermione - or him - and report them. And this was exactly the venue where a trap could be set for either one of them.
"HERE THEY COME!" screamed Hermione, as players came out on the field from the team lockers.
The players were walking out of the dressing rooms, taking off on their brooms in perfect succession, and going around the stadium a perfectly rehearsed flying sequence. They all waved at the crowd, and after a few minutes came to a standstill, hovering in the air facing the crowd. The Cannons were on the side facing Harry and Hermione, and they saw Ron, shining in his gold and red uniform - they waved at him, knowing he couldn't recognize them under their disguise.
"This is so exciting!", Hermione said with enthusiasm. "GOOD LUCK!" she screamed out, but her voice was buried in the cheers and clapping of the crowd.
Harry was happy, but felt a mounting apprehension he couldn't really explain.
"Here's the Quaffle!", continued Hermione, who was apparently intent on commenting the whole game. Harry just then realized that he had never been at a Quidditch game with Hermione since the last World Cup - in all their years as students, he had always been on the playing field.
The referee was just about to blow the whistle to start the game when something really strange happened. Harry's scar erupted in pain, and he was immediately overwhelmed by an ominous feeling of foreboding - as if something dreadful was about to happen. Turning to Hermione, he saw she was feeling the same: her face showed worry, and she kept looking around her nervously.
"Hermione? Do you feel that?" Harry asked, not sure what the reply would be.
Hermione nodded, and replied shrilly, "Yes! Like a feeling that the end of the world is just around the corner? That something horrible is about to take place, and there's nothing we can do about it? I've had this feeling before, it - it was when I saw you laying down, motionless, on the grass last summer." She held back a tear at the mere thought of that incident.
Harry registered her answer by grasping her hand, and smiling at her through his missing teeth. He pulled her to him, and gave her a big hug.
"I love you", he whispered in her ear, and felt her clutch him more tightly.
After a few seconds, he pulled back, and looked at her gravely. "But yes, that feeling of dread I'm having is exactly like you described … Maybe - I think we should leave, Hermione. I don't know, I think we may have been compromised."
They didn't have time to wait long and ponder the question … All of the sudden, a blinding, apocalyptic flash of light overtook the entire Quidditch Stadium. The players were so taken off guard that many fell off their brooms, some of them plummeting from heights of fifty feet and more. Harry grabbed Hermione, and together they cowered behind the row of seats in front of them, not knowing what was happening.
After three seconds, the light completely subsided, as instantaneously as it had come. But the ominous feeling was still there, and Harry could feel his chest pounding, ready to explode. Cold sweat was running down his face, and his scar was still throbbing.
"HARRY!" Hermione, who had gotten back up first, screamed at the top of her lungs. "LOOK AROUND!"
Harry gazed up and saw immediately what she was talking about.
"Oh my goodness … What is - this?" Harry muttered, the truth of what had just happened slowly creeping in.
The scenery around the Quidditch Stadium had changed completely. Instead of the verdant hills and the picture perfect countryside background, there were, as far as the eyes could see, yellowish fields of wheat all around, with a few houses perched atop the hills and dirt roads leading up to them. In the distance, the country town of Chudley could be seen clearly, with her small buildings, numerous houses, and the gas station with a huge sign at the entrance of the town. Finally - and this was perhaps the worst - the highway was clearly visible along the town lines, and cars were passing by as commuters made their way back from the city to their homes in the surrounding suburbs and countryside. The sounds of cars colliding then became audible, as drivers were now distracted from the road in front of them by a rather impressive structure that hadn't been there seconds before.
Hermione was on the verge of tears. "HARRY! That means someone - a wizard, for sure - has counter-balanced the effects of the protective charms that keep the Quidditch Stadium invisible to Muggles! That means all of this … It means WE are … VISIBLE, to all Muggles, that the Stadium is visible, and I'm telling you Harry - Muggles have never seen anything like this before!"
Harry, having been raised by Muggles, had to concur. Then it hit him … Hermione looked like … Hermione! He looked down at himself and gasped - he too was back to his own appearance, his own self-protecting charm no longer working. Hermione had made the same discovery, and was looking towards him in a state of shock. Whoever was behind all this was one extremely powerful wizard.
Meeting his fiancée's eyes, he yelled over the mounting roars of the throng around them, "Take my hand, and whatever happens, DON'T let go! We have to try to find Ron, and then leave!" Harry was trying real hard to put on a brave face, but he had to admit he was beginning to be terrified.
They tumbled down the stairs from their booth to the ground level, jumping steps four at a time, astonished that people were mostly staying in their seats, unsure or too afraid to do what came next. Reaching the field, they started running towards the goal hoops where Ron had been stationed as the game had been ready to get under way, jumping over bodies of injured players. They found him, dazed and confused, trying to get up from a crouching position.
"RON! OVER HERE!", yelled Harry, as he and Hermione came running towards him.
Ron seemed to come to his senses as he looked up and saw his two friends. "Blimey, Harry! Hermione! What's happening? I was blinded and fell off my broom, but I managed to pronounce a hovering spell just before I hit the ground."
"We don't exactly know, Ron, but one thing is certain: the Stadium is now visible to Muggles, someone tampered with its anti-detection charms. Something really awful is going on, and my feeling is that we shouldn't stay here!!"
Hermione looked at Ron with worry. "Can you walk, Ron?" He was still on the ground, and hadn't made any attempt to get up. He did, apparently with no harm done.
"Yeah, I'm okay, I was just dizzy from the fall, I had to wait a few minutes."
Harry looked at them both, and screamed in alarm. "We have to go, now! Hermione, don't let go of my hand. I'll run first, and Ron, keep behind us to protect our rear. Whatever's coming will be deadly, I'm sure."
All of the sudden, a deep buzzing sound coming from all directions became perceptible. It was a low rumble at first, but as the seconds went by, the sound grew stronger and stronger, soon becoming a deafening roar. Looking around, Harry could see barely anything, other than clouds of dust apparently lifting from the field all around them in the distance.
It was Ron that saw them first.
"Mate! Helicopters! Tens of them! They're coming for … the Stadium!"
Harry squinted, looked again, and saw them too. They were coming from three directions at once, as if coming to close a circle around them. The manoeuvre was perfect, the combat helicopters flying low to keep the sound of their engine unheard until the last minute. They were now barely a few kilometres away - it was the textbook way to launch an attack without leaving any time to react. They would be on them in a matter of minutes.
Harry immediately took off and started running towards the village of Chudley, screaming, "LET'S GO TO THE VILLAGE, IT'S OUR ONLY CHANCE TO ESCAPE!" He almost pulled Hermione with him until she caught up with his pace. As he ran, Harry took out his wand and started looking around in front of him. Ron had done the same, and was running in the back of them, occasionally turning around to fend off any attacker.
Then Ron stopped cold. "HARRY!! Ginny! She was also here, with Neville! We can't leave them back there!"
Harry gasped and turned around instantly. How could he have forgotten?! They had left the castle together, even though they were to be seated in different sections.
"LET'S GO BACK - NOW!" Harry started running as fast as he could, followed by Hermione and Ron.
The crowd was now in a state of panic - there were screams and shrieks as people had finally decided to get off their seat and run for cover. It was somewhat too late, however. In perfect synchronization, small flashes of light started igniting successively from each helicopter in the formation advancing towards the field. Seconds later, explosions started destroying the stadium and carving huge craters on the field as attack rockets successively hit their targets, sending thick clouds of earth and dust in the air and making it impossible to see five feet ahead. It was a desolating stage, smoke, dust and fire everywhere, people being projected in the air, deafening noise coming from the helicopters, and exploding rockets amongst the screams and cries … In a matter of minutes, the entire plain had become a bloody, chaotic combat zone.
As they reached the field again, Harry started looking around, screaming, "GINNY! NEVILLE!" It was of not much use, given the pandemonium and the level of noise that had overtaken the place.
"OVER THERE, HARRY! That's the section where we were sitting. They were in the one right beside!" Hermione said loudly, proceeding to move in that direction despite the smoke and fire.
Ron was besides himself, looking right and left, and then looking again. "How can I be caught TWICE in a situation like this in just three days?!! GINNY! Where are you?"
After five minutes, Harry screamed to the others. "We can't stay much longer, we're in too much danger!" The first helicopters were landing, and armed soldiers were starting to jump out of them, ready to pounce on any civilian or wizard.
"HERE! THEY'RE HERE!" It was Hermione's voice, and Harry panicked for a second, looking in the direction of the sound but not seeing her. She suddenly emerged from a cloud of thick, black smoke, trying to help a wounded Ginny who was barely conscious and struggling to walk. Neville was right behind them, trying to fend their would-be attackers.
The short staccatos of automatic weapons bursts were now starting to be heard amidst the racket of the whole scenery.
"NEVILLE!" Harry screamed, "At last! Quick, come here! We have to -"
But unexpectedly, out of the thick black cloud of smoke on their left, emerged three armed soldiers - about twenty feet directly in front of Hermione who was almost carrying Ginny. They instantly reached for their weapons, already at their side ready to be fired. Neville lunged forward to shield them, extending his wand at the same time and shouting "Expelliarmus!", just as a flash of fire spitted out from one of the semi-automatic rifles followed by its dull staccato beat. The soldier's weapon on the far-left was immediately thrown in the air away from its owner, but that wasn't nearly enough.
Completely powerless, Harry screamed at the top of his lungs as Neville's body - as if in slow-motion -jerked five times in mid-air as he was being riddled with bullets. With the surprise of the attack, Hermione had fallen flat on the ground behind her with Ginny, who was now completely knocked out. Ron, about ten feet away, and Hermione, who had gotten back up on one knee, could do nothing than watch the horror in front of them. Neville's limp body fell on the earth with a heavy thud, blood spluttering ghastly all over his torn clothes.
"AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry had moved forward in a rage and the three curses were thrown within a second. The extremely powerful jets of green light hissed as they crossed the air, and the soldiers were thrown back fifty feet, falling limp on the battlefield, dead.
For a moment, time stood still, and nobody dared move. The whole incident had lasted five seconds at most, but there seemed to be a lifetime contained in it.
Coming back to reality and quickly glancing around for signs of more soldiers, all three friends jumped the gap to Neville, who laid on the dirt covered in blood. His face was ashen white, his eyes squarely open but fixated towards the sky with fear … His body was staring to convulse in a rather repulsive fashion.
"HHHar - rry, I'm - I - soo sorry … I wasn't -" He gasped for air as blood spluttered out of his chest from his shattered aorta, in synch with the pulse of his weakening heartbeat.
"Don't talk Neville, don't talk … You'll be all right, just don't move …" Harry realized, however, as tears flowed in rivers on his face, that death was already knocking at Neville's door.
"Er, er - Harry … You know …" (he coughed some blood) " I - I never thought I could do great in life - until I met you …"
Hermione was howling as she frantically tried to patch Neville's chest with her wand, pronouncing every healing spell she knew or had read about. She had miraculously managed, somehow, to close two of the most lethal bullet wounds. But the third one was far beyond any of her abilities.
Neville continued, his voice now a hoarse whisper. "You, Harry, made - made - made me who I am today!" Neville's convulsions were now uncontrollable, and blood was coming out from the corner of his mouth and both his nostrils.
"Th … Th … Thank you. It's been a real - honour kno - kno-wing you … Please, tell Gran I love her very much! AAARGH!"
After coughing more blood, Neville's body arched and stiffened in a final spasm, and then, quietly, almost peacefully, his heart stopped - and he let out his last breath.
Harry, in tears but reacting to the scene around him, instinctively grabbed Neville's body and threw it - with apparently little effort - over his shoulder. He was acting on pure adrenaline, his emotions now totally shutting down. His survival instincts were, after all, far more developed than any other wizard.
"COME ON GUYS! WE MUST LEAVE! RON, GRAB YOUR SISTER! HERMIONE, YOU STAY CLOSE TO ME! LET'S RUN LIKE YOU'VE NEVER RAN BEFORE!"
He turned around and started running towards the village of Chudley, their original intended destination, doubting they could make it. But then, as he noticed two or three injured Quidditch players on the ground around them, he was struck with an idea that would prove life-saving."
"BROOMS! Ron, Hermione! Grab one, it's about our only chance!"
They all managed, in two or three seconds, to grab a broom on the field, and they all took off.
"WWHHAAMMM!"
The concussion of the explosion blew Harry forward and he almost nose-dived, but he miraculously managed to stay airborne, Neville's body still on his shoulder. Not so fortunate, however, was Hermione, who was easily the worst flyer of them three. She violently crashed face first on the dirt. Harry saw Ron ahead, Ginny on his shoulder, hovering about ten feet from the ground.
"HARRY! PLEASE HELP ME!" Hermione moaned, as more explosions started to reach their immediate vicinity. A couple of the helicopters were still up in the air, firing rockets around the field to cut all escape routes to would-be survivors. Harry turned around, and saw in horror that Hermione's shirt was soaked in blood. He ran back towards her, thousands of crazy thoughts flooding his brain. His emotions were back, threatening to cloud his judgement.
"Blimey Harry! Make it quick! I see more helicopters landing!" Ron's face was stricken with fear and panic, and he had a hard time holding Ginny securely.
"Hermione! HERMIONE!", Harry whimpered, his face black with soot and wet with tears, grabbing both her hands. "Are you okay? My goodness, you … you're - bleeding!" She looked down herself, and saw through a tear in her shirt that she had suffered some kind of laceration on her side. She felt her flesh with her hand and winced in pain, but then sprung back to her feet.
"I - I - I think I'm okay!" she whispered, her face twisting with agony. "It - it doesn't hurt that much … It's - it's just a bad bruise, shrapnel I suppose! Let's go Harry, we're almost out of there!"
Harry wondered if Hermione wasn't just covering a more serious injury, but there was really no time to ponder. He helped her back on her broom, and they both took off quickly to join Ron, who was deploying phenomenal effort to just remain in mid-air on his broom holding the unconscious Ginny over his shoulder like a huge sack of potatoes.
"Blimey, guys! Let's fly out of here, quick! I DON'T FEEL LIKE DYING TODAY!"
They bent over their brooms and took off, staying low, and in seconds they managed to land on the roof of the gas station at the entrance of the village. It was easy enough to remain unseen with all the thick smoke covering the area.
They immediately laid flat on their stomach, completely hidden from view behind the huge neon light sign posted a the front of the gas station. They had escaped not a minute too late: from both sides of the field, military troops were marching in, firing rounds of ammunition on anything that moved and any survivor - but Harry doubted there were many left.
Harry turned to Hermione, relieved to be momentarily out of danger.
He gasped as he saw her. Lying in a growing pool of her own blood, Hermione had lost consciousness.
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"I KNOW ABOUT THE PRECARITY OF OUR PREDICAMENT, MOTHER!"
Malfoy had yelled in utmost desperation. He and his mother were holed up in Hogsmeade, in the dark, musty basement of the Shrieking Shack. It had been how Malfoy had been travelling to Hogwarts without being detected by anyone.
After many weeks in hiding, Narcissa Malfoy was starting to doubt whether this was a better alternative than enduring her husband.
"Draco, let's be realistic … From what I've gathered in my few trips in town, there is a global war going on, and your father is masterminding it. Do you really think he's not eventually going to find us?"
Draco looked at his mother with impatience, rolling his eyes.
"I told you from the start, I have a plan … I will bring Harry Potter to him, and then, when he's caught off guard by this `offering', I will kill him. And then, we'll be free to do whatever we want, at last."
His mother raised an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, do you plan to `capture' Harry Potter? I mean, you haven't exactly had the upper hand against him over the years, have you?"
Draco hissed in fury.
"I will get him! I have spies, Mother! I know each one of his coming and going, I will catch him unaware - him and his Mudblood girlfriend! They are my ticket to get to Maldemort, and then …"
Draco looked at the stump at the end of his arm, seething with rage.
"I'll make him pay for this, and for everything!!!"
Narcissa let out a deep sigh. "Well, Draco, I hope for our sake that your plan works … Seriously! We cannot stay hidden here forever! And I think we're no longer safe in here … I was in town the other day, well hidden under my cloak, but I saw three suspicious-looking wizards that seemed to be speaking Romanian. I think they were probably looking for us.
A hint of worry appeared on Draco's face, but immediately he frowned and looked away from his mother's gaze. "I think we should be fine soon, I received an owl from my informant at Hogwarts this morning. He wants to meet with me next week, so that means he has important information about Potter."
His mother, once again, looked at him with some doubt. "Are you sure, Draco, that this person can be trusted? You don't exactly command loyalty, Draco …"
Draco smiled faintly. "Don't worry, mother! I have every reason to believe that this guy will cooperate fully with me!"
Narcissa suddenly turned to him with pleading eyes. "Have you considered going to Dumbledore? We could join forces, no? We ARE fighting the same enemy! And later, we could just distance ourselves, sort of …"
Draco looked at his mother in disgust, and spat on the ground.
"NEVER! I will never lower myself to Dumbledore's level - loving Mudbloods, giving them opportunities …"
He turned around, and left the room.
His mother, looking at him with a deep sadness in her eyes, murmured, "You are a lot more like your father than you think, Draco …"
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"HERMIONE!!" Harry screamed, not bothering to see if he could be heard.
Ron turned around and shrieked. Mouth gaping, he came to Hermione's side and put his head on her chest.
"She's alive, Harry, but she's losing blood. We must leave!"
Harry looked at him, desperate. "Ron, we now have three bodies to carry … That's physically impossible, and I'm not leaving Neville here!"
Ron looked around, and then pointed a finger towards the gas pumps.
"Look, Harry! That huge banner! We could tie the corners of it to both end of each our brooms, and make some kind of stretcher, and fly together."
The banner was, as if to taunt them and mock their predicament, advertising "SPECIAL! GAS PRICES TO DIE FOR!"
Harry immediately pointed his wand, and shouted, "Accio banner!" The ropes holding it broke, and it came to them immediately.
They proceeded to lay the bodies side by side on the banner, and Ron, with a quick spell, had the four ends securely tied to both their broom.
"Ok, let's fly together", Ron concluded, as they both mounted their brooms. "One, two, three, let's go!"
They both kicked hard from the roof, and the strange flying ensemble they now formed slowly lifted from their observation point. It took a few moments for them to synchronize their flying, but then, they slowly lifted away towards the cover of the clouds.
Harry was getting back his cool, and started thinking objectively. They needed to make it to Hogwarts, that was the only place where they would be safe. He screamed to Ron.
"Ron, let's head North, and get to Hogwarts as soon as possible!" Ron showed him a thumb up, and motioned him to lay flatter on his broom. As they both did in unison, they picked up speed, all the while making sure they kept a proper angle so that the bodies didn't slip off the banner.
As the clouds passed by and the afternoon went on, Harry's mind got caught up once more in his emotions - he could already picture himself at Hermione's funeral, and started crying loudly - his sobs could not be heard over the howling of the wind.
After what seemed like an eternity, the turrets of the castle finally came into view in the distance, and Harry glanced at their friends. Hermione's eyes opened briefly, but closed immediately. A wince of pain appeared on her face, and Harry sighed with relief. She was still with them, at least. Ginny seemed totally out of it, and hadn't moved since the battlefield.
They initiated their descent towards the main entrance of the castle, where they saw Dumbledore already pointing at them while talking quite loudly to Madam Pomfrey and her assistant and giving orders to Severus Snape and Remus Lupin at the same time. He had known, it seemed, of their arrival.
They landed, and Ron immediately screamed, "We're safe, Harry! We made it, Blimey I can't believe it! We made it!" And then, as if completely exhausted by the flight and the ordeal, he just collapsed on the grass and didn't move.
Harry, however, managed to keep it together a bit longer.
"Professor", he tried to look at Dumbledore's light blue eyes, but found he couldn't. "Neville didn't make it, he's … He's gone!"
The Headmaster went to Harry, and put his hand on his shoulder. "I know, Harry, I know …"
Harry then turned towards Madam Pomfrey. "I think Hermione's in more critical condition, but Ginny's been knocked out! I don't - we tried to - please take good care of them!"
Not quite knowing what he was doing, Harry then took off, to the surprise of everyone there. He ran like mad towards the Forest, looking once or twice over his shoulder and relieved nobody had gone after him - he no longer felt like talking to anyone. He entered the thick woods, and slowed down his pace, walking for a while under the cover of the trees until he reached a clearing. He then fell on his knees, and started screaming and yelling, and collapsed as violent sobs overtook him. Exhausted, he finally fell in a semi-sleep on the soft moss-covered ground at the foot of a towering oak tree, still overtaken by intermittent shakes.
He was now in a dark room, with no light. There was total silence there, and all he could hear was the sound of his own breath, and the thumping of his heart. A soft, familiar voice was calling him … "Harry! Harry! I'm here!" Looking left and right, but not seeing anything, he started running forward, in total darkness. The voice kept eluding him, but after a while, it became clearer, and a bright light suddenly shone in front of him, somewhat like the beam of a spot on the stage of a theatre. There was tall metal post in the center, to which a young woman was tied with heavy chains. She had her back turned to him, but he recognized the thick, curly brown hair at once. Slowly, he walked around to face her. Hermione Granger couldn't move, but she was more beautiful than ever, and her eyes were looking straight at him. She smiled when she saw him, and spoke softly.
"Harry, my love! You came to save me! Again!"
Harry tried to move towards her but all of the sudden, he was paralysed - just then, a very ugly character came out from behind the post, with serpentine eyes and a sallow, dead-looking face. It was Lucius Malfoy-Maldemort, a sickening smile plastered to his repulsive face.
"This could all end, you know … How long are you going to gamble with her life? Don't you `love' her, Potter? Let's finish this off like men - face to face, just you and I. Let's finally see, once and for all, who is the most powerful wizard …"
Rage and turmoil welled up inside Harry, but as he tried to speak, he found he couldn't … It was Hermione who spoke next.
"Listen to him, Harry … I love you, and I know you love me, but how many more must die? My parents are dead, Harry. Neville too … Please! I know you'll do the right thing, my love!!"
Harry's insides were screaming, but all of the sudden, he started being sucked backwards, and there was nothing he could do about it, the light vanished, and darkness was upon him again …
Harry opened his eyes with a start. Darkness had fallen upon the Forest, but a strange, eerie moonlight was allowing him to see relatively clearly around him. A calm stillness had come upon him, and a clear vision of the days ahead settled on his heart.
He got up, and resolutely headed back towards the castle. It was time to put an end to all this madness, once and for all.
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The London Times - Saturday, October 31st.
"WAR ESCALATES - 1 MILLION ALREADY ESTIMATED DEAD IN EUROPE!
"Yesterday, an airborne fleet of heavy bombers from the Romanian air force systematically littered the inland corridor from Romania to the English Channel with powerful chemical mega-bombs, transforming vast parts of the countries of Germany, France, Belgium and the Netherlands into nothing more than wastelands. The operation aimed, it seemed, at opening up a corridor for troops and artillery from the Romanian alliance to circulate freely from Eastern Europe to the coast of the English Channel, and from there to launch a massive offensive towards the United Kingdom. So far, it has accomplished its gruesome goal, as a huge military camp is being erected on the shores of the Channel with a clear view of the English coast.
In the chaos surrounding this global armed conflict, the best estimates are putting the number of casualties at about one million, mostly civilians.
Sadly, any form of resolution to this war is nowhere in sight, as leaders from the United Nations have not been welcomed by the military leaders of Romania. To date, no cause has been put forward for this devilish endeavour of Machiavellian proportions - other than the personal vendetta of Romanian leader, Antonin Dromilescu, against Great Britain.
Never in history has there been such a violent, fast-escalating and unjustified global war. Furthermore, there seems to be a complete paralysis among many Government Officials - in all countries - to launch forward to some kind of negotiation process. It's as if a mysterious force is stopping every sensible country from acting or speaking out.
Alongside the United States to officially join Great Britain in defence against Romania's offensive, the countries of Canada, Norway, Finland, Denmark, Sweden, France, Spain, Belgium and the Netherlands have all agreed to supply troops and equipment. The "Romanian alliance", as it is now referred to, is made up so far of old Eastern Block countries, including Hungary, Austria, Czech Republic, Poland, Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania."
To date, Russia, Turkey and the entire Middle-East have remained neutral in the conflict, but this could change very quickly, as some of them have had quarrels in the past with the countries already involved."
Albus Dumbledore had never looked so grave as he prepared to address the students. Once again, Harry noted that he looked old … The events had taken a turn that no one could have seen coming - not even his beloved Headmaster. And it seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders.
The atmosphere was tense and the mood sombre as students sat in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast as they did every year. But joy and laughter were conspicuously absent from the gathering this time. There was a heavy silence as students worried about their family, the future, and the deadly war that was intensifying with each passing day. Nobody, it seemed, wanted to put an end to the conflict - but attacks kept coming, battles were still being fought, and the world stage seemed paralysed with fright. Quickly, the times were becoming uncertain, fearful … dark and grim.
The staff table was less crowded than usual. Harry, Hermione and Ron were there, but other teachers were noticeably absent. Harry suspected they had gone either on some missions for the Order of the Phoenix, or to rescue relatives. Harry and Hermione were now pretty much confined to the castle and the grounds, since the warrant for Hermione's arrest was still very much in full circulation.
Harry looked around, and pain struck him as he saw Ginny's seat empty at the Gryffindor table. She was still fighting for her life in the hospital wing, after having barely escaped the attack on the Chudley Quidditch Stadium. She had suffered a severe head injury, and despite the excellent care she was receiving, she persistently remained in a deep coma.
Harry welled up when he looked at the seat beside Ginny. That one, unfortunately, would forever remain empty. Harry's eyes filled with tears as he thought of Neville's ultimate sacrifice - he had saved both Hermione and Ginny's lives that day, and possibly his and Ron's. But he, himself, was gone.
Harry wondered painfully if he could ever forgive himself for not reacting quickly enough. Or, even worse, for forgetting to find Ginny and Neville in the first place.
He glanced sideways at Hermione, who was still heavily bandaged from her navel to the base of her ribs. He owed Neville his future's wife's life … She had almost died twice during that battle. Harry could not take this much longer …
"Soon", he muttered under his breath, "I will put an end to all this - for good …" Since his afternoon in the Forest, Harry was starting to accept what his fate should be - and he was increasingly determined to seeing it come to pass.
Just then, the Headmaster cleared his throat and began solemnly.
"I want to welcome you all, once again, to our Halloween feast." He let out a deep sigh, paused for a few seconds, and continued. "I would have hoped, however, for this feast to take place in more festive circumstances …"
He looked around and perused through the crowd. Students were hanging to his every word.
"First of all … I would like us to raise our glasses to courage … We salute the heroic exploit of our fellow Gryffindor graduate, Neville Longbottom. He made the ultimate sacrifice by dying to save his friends - and that, I must say, is the very essence of what Godric Gryffindor and the house that bear his name is all about."
Dumbledore choked, and held back tears. He continued with a somewhat broken voice.
"So here's to you, dear Neville - may your journey be safe, peaceful, and way we see you again, soon."
Fawkes the phoenix was perched on Dumbledore's shoulders. He suddenly broke into a song, which sounded very much like a funeral ode - it was breathtaking in its melodious sound, but yet managed to express the unfathomable sadness of this unfortunate event. The song lasted several minutes, and no one dared move or speak before it slowly died down.
Dumbledore raised his glass. "To Neville! To courage! To friendship!"
As students paid tribute, not one eye in the place remained dry, except perhaps for a few Slytherin students who kept a stoic face. By some charm that only Dumbledore could have thought of, images from Neville's life appeared in mid-air over all of them, and they all smiled and cried at the best - and worst - moments of their departed friend's well-lived life.
Harry turned to Hermione's whose hands were covering her face … Her body shook slightly from the sobs that were overtaking her. He put his hand on her back, and she quickly turned to lean on his lap. He himself was crying, tears flowing freely on his cheek as he remembered Neville's last words:
"Harry, I never thought I could do great in life - until I met you. You made me become who I am today … Thank you. It's been a real honour knowing you!"
He whispered to himself, "No, Neville, it's been a treat knowing you … You were always far more courageous than anyone else in this school - including myself."
But Dumbledore spoke once more, this time on a more official tone.
"As you all know, war is upon us. And any war, whether for a noble cause or not, is extremely painful, and terribly pricey. Human life is the price - people die, people suffer, we wake up missing a father, a mother, a brother, a sister …" Dumbledore looked at Ron, who was stricken with worry and fear that Ginny wouldn't make it through another night.
Dumbledore's face then took an expression of anger and disgust, and he spoke with more determination.
"What's most enraging, as I speak to you today, is that we now know for a fact that this war has no cause at all, except the eradication of all Muggle-born wizards …"
There were expressions of shock and disbelief amongst the students.
"Yes … Some of the world's Governments are being controlled by Dark Wizards, who will stop at nothing to get what they want - until they are stopped, that is …"
He paused, took a drink from the glass of water beside him, and then continued.
"That is why, on this Halloween night, I have to inform you that due to the extraordinary circumstances befalling us, I've had to make a very painful decision, that can no longer be delayed … The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will become, for the time being, a safe-haven for all wizards and their families who wish to be protected from the downfalls of this terrible ordeal. The school year, as of tonight, is officially suspended until further notice."
Many students stood up at once, aghast with disbelief. But as Dumbledore had spoken, he had motioned someone to the side of the Great Hall. Doors suddenly opened, and parents of students came flooding in, running to their children and hugging them with laughter and tears of joy. After a few minutes, not one student was alone in the Great Hall, and the mood had become somewhat more festive.
Dumbledore raised his hand once more, and continued as a hush fell on the hall.
"You will notice that the grounds outside have started to be adorned with tents of all sorts, as families of students and other wizards install themselves at school. I remind you that the charms protecting Hogwarts are rooted in magic more powerful than any other, and that this institution has withstood many World Wars without any harm. You and your loved ones will be safe here."
Harry had a sudden thought of Hermione's parents, and bending over, he hugged her with all his might. She seemed to have had the same thought process, and looked up at Harry, her face wet with tears.
"Thank you for being there … I don't know how I'd get through this without you …"
As he softly stroke her hair, Harry remembered vividly the first time he had rescued her life as she was cowering in the girl's bathroom in front of a giant mountain troll. He would have never guessed, at that time, how Hermione Granger's life and his own would forever become intertwined. But one thing had quickly, and always thereafter, been clear: from that point on, he had needed her, and she had needed him. And this would forever remain - despite whatever the future held for both of them.
And she needed him now - more than ever.
A fact which, unfortunately, made his choice so much more difficult.
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"Professor, it's the only way! People have to stop dying because of ME!" Harry was pacing Dumbledore's office, furious.
Dumbledore looked at him with his piercing light blue eyes. "Harry! There are things that you do not yet comprehend … Whether you die or not will NOT stop the madness that is now upon us."
Harry snickered in disagreement.
"YOU'RE WRONG! It's me they're after! It has always been me, for the last eighteen years! I'll give them what they want! Better that one person dies, than all of us! Hermione's parents are gone, Neville is gone, who's going to be next? Ron? Hermione? Ginny? You, sir?"
Harry was starting to bitterly regret sharing his plan with Dumbledore … He had planned to go alone to try to challenge Maldemort and his associates, dying in the process if he had to. That was the resolution he had taken during his afternoon of anguish in the Forbidden Forest. It seemed to him like the most logical choice.
The Headmaster waited for a few minutes, and then spoke with unprecedented authority, to the point that Harry was taken aback.
"Dark Wizards, Harry, seek power! Nothing less, and nothing more. You are but a parenthesis in their quest to the ultimate victory - ruling the world we live in. Voldemort made it his personal quest to defeat you because he could not stand to have been stunted on his way to conquering our world. He had a personal vendetta against you, for personal reasons. But had he succeeded in defeating you - and even if Maldemort ever managed to vanquish you - their quest and thirst for power would have NEVER ended! That is a lesson you must never forget ... Some things, Harry, extend beyond you."
Harry sat down, and pondered the thought for a moment.
He looked up at Dumbledore. "But what's the point then? There will always be power for the taking, and that means that this - situations like this - will always arise!"
"The point, Harry, is that for thousands of years, wizards of good will have stood for justice and peace, and have succeeded! Voldemort was the first to reach the level of power he did in more than a hundred years, and even then - goodness triumphed over him! YOU triumphed over him … If people like you give up, all hope will die - and whether you want to admit it or not, you will be giving up and fail everyone who looks up to you if you go on with that … plan of yours!"
Dumbledore pulled a chair, and sat besides Harry, putting his hand on his shoulders. He looked at him with a warm smile.
"People have stood by my side for years, thinking that the powers I possess and for which I stand for are, in fact, what insures their well-being and security … But it is the values for which I stand, in fact, that keep people loyal to me and Hogwarts. And it is the same good, unchanging values that will one day make them loyal to you, Harry."
Harry turned abruptly to Dumbledore.
"What? What exactly are you saying? I cannot even imagine becoming half of what you are, Sir!"
Dumbledore laughed. "I am very old, and I hopefully have many, many years still in front of me, Harry … But I am not eternal … The time will come when I will have to pass on - and when that time comes, you will be ready …"
"But -" Harry tried to protest, but Dumbledore motioned him to silence.
"Rest, I believe, is necessary for all of us. We will revisit the subject, don't you worry … But not tonight … Go Harry, you have a young woman that desperately need your support, and love. If you were to only spent the rest of your life caring and loving her, you would have already accomplished much more than any Dark Wizard could ever dream of …"
Harry left Dumbledore's study in a daze, completely confused and befuddled.
But then again, it was something almost normal whenever he talked with Albus Dumbledore in private.
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It took a long time for Harry to make his way to Hagrid's cabin that evening. He was walking by himself, but a tent stood in his way every ten or fifteen feet, with tens of wizards that kept insisting he stay for tea, or have a chat - people wanted to know about the war from people who had seen it first-hand.
"You sure chose the ideal time to stay at the library, Hermione Granger", he muttered to himself, looking at the throngs of people on the grounds. Hermione was usually more skilled than he was at politely declining unwanted invitations.
She had remained behind at the library, determined to read up on healing charms and study them attentively. She had decided she would not be caught off guard and left powerless like she had been on the battlefield, unable to do anything for dying Neville.
As he walked, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione, and of the way things had turned out since the summer. He still caught himself, sometimes, gazing at her and finding it hard to believe that she cared for him the way she did. Often, he wondered why in the world it had taken him so long to see his own love for her - seven long years - when she had known right away, though she had refused to give in to it.
And now … He loved her so much that he couldn't even imagine living without her. She had just had another brush with death, and Harry just couldn't allow it anymore. There was, Harry thought, possibly only one way to insure her safety … But now, after talking to Dumbledore, he was uncertain if that was the solution.
He desperately needed to think.
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! HARRY POTTER!"
Harry came out of his reverie, and turned to his left, where someone with a vaguely familiar voice was apparently calling him.
Swallowing hard, he mustered the strength to make nice as Sybil Trelawney approached, accompanied by another woman who was quite the colourful character, to say the least. She was dressed artistically with numerous - and clashing - colours, somewhat reminiscent of a flee market fortune-teller. But it was the turban that one could not fail to avoid looking at - it was at least four feet high, and adorned on all sides with stuffed birds. The whole apparatus must have weighed at least ten pounds.
"Harry, I would like to introduce you to my mentor, Mrs. Maggie Rochonovitch … She's a renowned seer from Russia, and she taught me everything I know!"
Which is not much, Harry thought to himself. Professor Trelawney was looking at her with an admiration not at all dissimilar to the way Parvati and Lavender had admired her back during their school days. Harry graciously smiled, and shook her hand.
"It's a pleasure meeting you, but I must be going … Very important -"
"Oh, Harry! Come to our tent and have a cup of tea! You must hear Mrs. Rochonovitch's stories, they are just incredible!"
Unable to say no, Harry reluctantly went inside the tent, which was hot and filled with the typical smell of burning incense. Many times, Harry just kept himself from falling into a deep stupor, listening to unending tales of fulfilled prophecies and about the rare and extraordinary gift of "seeing".
Finally, after nearly an hour, Harry was able to excuse himself and continue his journey - that's what the usual five minutes walk had become - through the tents towards the cabin. He managed to make it after shaking more hands, and making some polite excuses about having to prepare for an important meeting. He couldn't wait to be in the cabin, alone, to try to shut out some of the noise and have a moment to think for himself.
Wearily, he climbed the steps towards the back entrance of Hagrid's cabin, and opened the door.
He gasped, and white hot anger immediately ignited from the pit of his stomach, exploding within him, making his hands shake and his scar hurt. In a split-second, his wand was in his hand, ready to strike.
In the middle of the kitchen area, standing near the fireplace, looking as white as a ghost and wearing a shocked expression on his face exactly as if he had just seen one, stood Draco Malfoy.
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