A/N: It's been a while hasn't it...I'm not going to make excuses because all in all it doesn't make that much of a difference to you.
I want you to know that if you see any mistakes then they're entirely mine as I don't have a beta anymore. Feel free to shout them out if you see anything.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
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Ch43: THE SACRIFICE
PART ONE
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
(The End by the Doors.)
The first thing Harry thought when he landed on solid ground again was that the Stone Edge was exactly as he remembered it: Dark, majestic, massive, looming and intimidating. The next thought that came to his mind was that this might be the last time he ever Apparated. A sharp wisp of wind went right through his thin sweater, and Harry crossed his arms in an attempt to not lose all his warmth. It was futile, however. He could've had a huge winter coat and he would still be cold; it was something about the place that chilled him to the bone.
He wasn't sure what to expect. Were they waiting for him? Did anyone aside from the Dark Lord know he was coming, and had they prepared a trap for him?
Most likely, thought Harry darkly.
He broke into a run and let his feet carry him to the entrance. He was already late. Merlin knew what they would do to Hermione if they thought he wouldn't show up. The thought of his brilliant ex-girlfriend made his heart clench and his feet run faster, and soon he was inside the building. The door closed behind him, shutting out almost all light. It was like a sign; a sign of how his life would become. No freedom, only darkness.
Harry squinted to make out what was in the hall. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he had not expected to see what he saw. Which was next to nothing: the hall was bare, completely stripped for furniture and decoration except for the picture frames which hung alone and silent one after one on the wall. All the portraits had left their pictures, so not even their breathing could be heard. Harry tried to not let the silence freak him out. After a few hesitant steps, he shook his shoulders, forced his chin up and began to walk quickly further into the castle. The sound of his quick, trotting footsteps echoed back to him from the walls.
Harry knew exactly where to go: as the Dark Lord loved irony and playing games, it made sense to Harry that the Death Eater meeting would be in the same room as Harry got his Dark Mark all those months ago. So he decided to head that way, using all the shortcuts he knew. He refused to think of what kind of danger that was waiting for him. It would only make him want to try to delay the inevitable and that would do more harm than good ... all that mattered was Hermione. He just hoped she would manage to find her way out of the building without him.
Harry realized he was almost at his destination and slowed down a bit. His body suddenly felt very heavy. It was impossible for him to breathe properly, like something was pressing his chest back towards his spine. He was gasping for air, yet it never seemed to fill his lungs completely.
Pull yourself together, he told himself sternly, but he couldn't help it; he really didn't want to go in that final room. He guessed it was selfish of him - especially since it was his fault that Hermione had been captivated in the first place - but in his opinion he had a damn good reason to be scared.
Harry had stopped outside the door to the room he was almost certain everyone would be in, and for a few seconds he allowed himself to simply gaze at the heavy, dark wooden door, taking in all the details and collecting his breath until it was finally steady again. His hand rose to touch the doorknob, but then he thought better of it.
Better show he was a wizard to be reckoned with. If he was going to enter, he should do it with style.
The door opened with a bang, making dust and splintered wood fly everywhere. Harry let his wand arm holding the wand he still had from the Dark Lord fall to his side. He had put a bit too much force into the spell than he intended.
Harry stepped in and the door closed automatically behind him. It was still whole enough to keep him trapped in if the Dark Lord wanted him to be. Harry jumped in surprise from the sound of the door clicking shut, but if someone saw him do that he didn't know. The room had gone completely dark when the door had closed and no sound could be heard.
But it was another type of silence this time, one that was heavy and foreboding. Harry closed his eyes for a moment to collect the last shreds of courage he had left in his body and thought one single word inside his head: Lumos.
His wand ignited.
At first it was hard to see anything at all because the light from his wand contrasted so sharply against the dark that it was blinding. However, as soon as his eyes had adjusted he could make out dozens of white Death Eater masks in front of him by the wall on the other side of the room. Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed he had gotten it right on his first try. He knew one thing though: This was it. The beginning of the end.
As soon as he thought that, all the torches in the room ignited at once. Had the situation been less grave Harry would've rolled his eyes of how dramatic the Dark Lord tended to be. Unfortunately, this time the effect had its desired result; namely in making Harry even more nervous than he already was; something he hadn't thought possible.
Harry spotted the Dark Lord to his left. It was easy enough; although the room was about as big as the Great Hall back in Hogwarts was everyone else were wearing their Death Eater masks. The sight was so familiar to Harry that he couldn't help but feeling as though he still belonged there. His head turned to his old Lord and instantly he dropped to his knee and bent his head and upper body into a respectful bow. Harry cursed himself immediately afterwards. What had made him do it he didn't know, but in spite of still wearing the Mark he was not a Death Eater anymore and bowing to the Dark Lord was not the way to show it.
Harry rose to his feet and glared at the Dark Lord's snakelike face spitefully ... and was instantly hit with the Cruciatus Curse.
The pain was absolute, but Harry had expected it so he bit his teeth together as hard that nothing but a whimpering sound could come out. When the curse ended - after what seemed like twice an eternity - Harry found himself on the cold floor, numb from head to toe curled as an infant. It made him feel angry and humiliated, but he didn't have the energy to make a comeback that he was lose anyway. He was suddenly overcome with a desire to give up and forget about everything. It would be so nice to close his eyes and sleep for a while.
He just hoped Hermione didn't see him like this...
The thought of her made him look around. It took a while for his eyes to be able to focus, but when they finally did all he could see was the Dark Lord and row after row with death eaters in their robes and masks, observing him silently. Where was she?
Harry tried to form the words so he could ask, but the combination of his fuzzy head and the sore jaw he had gotten from pressing his teeth together so hard made it too difficult to form any words.
"Now, now, now, look who has decided to crawl back to his master. This brings back fond memories, does it not?"
Harry curled his fingers and glared right up into the crimson eyes of the man who had marked him. He wished he could find the courage to say something offensive.
The Dark Lord smirked. "Do you hate me, Harry? Oh, but your fear is greater. It keeps you from doing anything you will regret. My, my, you are becoming less and less Gryffindor for every day, even without my guidance..." The Lord held up a bit of his robe, so the hem got more visible. Harry knew what that meant and dared not refuse, in fear of receiving more of the Cruciatus Curse. He scrambled to his feet, but failed, and he was forced to crawl over to where the Dark Lord stood so he could bring the hem to his lips and kiss it.
Amused chuckles went through the crowd and Harry could feel his face burn. He was such a coward. The Dark Lord was right; he was nothing like a Gryffindor anymore.
"Give me my wand, boy," ordered the Dark Lord, his voice more dangerous. He held out his hand expectantly. Harry placed the ebony white wand in the palm of the Dark Lord's hand with shaking fingers, and wondered briefly whether he would ever get his own wand back. He knew better than to ask for it, however.
The Dark Lord spent a minute or so to play with his wand as though to get the feeling of it again, and then he stroked the fine wood up and down lovingly. It was morbid and fascinating at the same time for Harry to watch; it was impossible for him to take his eyes of the scene. Suddenly the Dark Lord locked his crimson eyes with Harry's dark green.
"You remember everything now, I presume?"
Harry nodded stiffly and forced himself to speak up. "Yes."
The older wizard waited.
"My Lord," Harry added after only a moment of hesitation. If he hadn't, he would only get Cruciated again and he wanted to save what was left of his strength.
"You must remember a lot of handy spells and good techniques then, do you not?" muttered the Dark Lord. "After surviving all those years..."
Harry nodded again, wondering where this was headed.
"That should make you even more powerful than before then." Harry could tell it wasn't a question from the way the Lord said it. "Good. You will be an ever greater asset to me this way."
Harry looked away and his heart clenched harder in worry. Where was Hermione?!
The Dark Lord seemed to know what he was thinking and smirked. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. Cannot have you come all the way down here without seeing your Mudblood girlfriend, can we?"
Harry gave him a worried glance. He didn't like the sound of that.
Voldemort snapped his fingers, and two Death Eaters Harry didn't recognize immediately because they had their robes and masks on quickly darted through the only other door in the room.
Then they waited in silence and the Dark Lord played some more with his old phoenix wand. He seemed to enjoy the silence, but Harry couldn't stand it. It was driving him crazy. However, when the door finally opened Harry couldn't be sure if ten minutes had passed or just ten seconds.
Harry's eyes searched wildly for Hermione. He spotted her almost immediately, but gasped of what he saw and really shouldn't see; her naked body.
Not even when they had been dating had he seen her completely devoid of clothing, and while she looked beautiful even know as she probably was at her worst Harry saw two red humiliated spots on her tear strained cheeks. Something in the back of Harry' mind snapped and with an animalistic snarl and a growl he started towards her in a desperate attempt to reach her before they could do her anymore harm. Her body should never be an object of the Death Eater's amusements! Suddenly Harry lost his balance and he felt roughly to the stone floor, his arms shielding his face. His feet had been glued together by a curse.
"Hermione!" he breathed, got up and tried to run again, but his feet wouldn't part and without his wand he was helpless in reversing the curse. He didn't intend to let that stop him however so he tried to crawl instead. All thoughts or worries about looking pathetic were gone now as he saw what Hermione was going through.
Cackles of laughter echoed through the hall. Harry looked back up at Hermione desperately. He wanted nothing more than to cover her up with his cloak or a big sweater - anything to save her honour. Hell, he would've died on the spot if it meant that she would be safe in her bed back at Hogwarts; with teachers and students watching over her.
She had seen him, he could tell, because her body had suddenly gone rigid and her anxious and hurting dark eyes looked right at him. Then she broke his heart even more and tried to hide behind the two Death Eaters holding her as though she didn't want him to see her like that.
Harry made a whimpering, dog-like sound in the back of his throat and tried to get back at his feet, but suddenly he felt a nauseating jerk in his body and then he flew across the floor and landing right in front of the Dark Lord's feet. Harry was shaking with anger and he shot the Dark Lord a glare that had to be the closest thing a human could come the look of a Basilisk.
"What have you done to her?!" he hissed.
The Dark Lord did not look the least intimidated and seemed to find the whole situation rather amusing. "Done?"
Harry could feel the dark magic he had in his veins roar; like a beast begging to get loose. The entire room shook for a moment, and then all the lights went out.
The Dark Lord lightened them again with a quick wave of his wand arm, and when he met Harry's look Harry was surprised to see them widened, as though in surprise or even fear.
Harry felt a flash of satisfaction - he knew his magic had been the cause of the shaking - but it was quickly subdued when he reminded himself it had been accidental magic and not magic he could actually control, much less direct to hurt the Dark Lord without causing damage to himself or to Hermione. Instead he tried to calm himself with a few deep breaths and then he steeled himself for what he was about to ask:
"What do I have to do for you to let her go?"
The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed with triumph over Harry's question. It was obvious now that he had been waiting for Harry to ask just that. The Lord's claw like fingers entwined with each other and then curled; fingernails that were too long and rotten scraped across the corpse-looking skin. It was a pretty nasty sight.
"I will let her go on one condition," began the Dark Lord quietly, but everybody in the room heard him. "If you, Harry, fight us one by one and win. It will be the perfect way for me to see what you are capable of doing."
Harry felt his stomach drop and he quickly scanned the hooded figures in the room. They were so many - thirty perhaps - and they all knew so much dark magic; there was no way he could win! He glanced nervously at Hermione and noticed that she was still hiding her body from him behind one of her guards, but he also noticed that her face was peeking behind one of the guard's shoulders just enough to allow her to look back at him. She nodded slightly, telling him he could to do it ... that if anyone could win it had to be he. Harry felt a rush of gratitude fly through him. He didn't think he could win, but to know that Hermione believed in him meant everything. Harry wanted nothing more than to rush over to her, take her in his arms and wrap his cloak around her, and hold her so tightly that they would be one; in their own little world where they were safe and no one could seperate them. But then the reality came back crashing into him, reminding him of where he was and the situation he had gotten himself into. He wondered - for a fleeting moment - why Hermione didn't try to escape; the Death Eaters didn't seem to hold her very tightly.
"I am quite curious of how powerful you are with all your memories intact," continued the Dark Lord, just as quietly as before; his words smooth as silk, yet sharp as a razor. Harry reluctantly tore his eyes away from Hermione and shot the Dark Lord a nervous look. His mouth felt dry again and he cautiously licked his lips. The Dark Lord smirked. "You have always had power, boy; you have simply not used your full potential before. However, with the right motivation..." The Dark Lord's evil eyes glittered towards Hermione, who whimpered and turned her face away. "...we should all be able to see just how much you can do for us. Did you think you could just quit, Potter? After what I made you?"
Harry realized the Dark Lord was about to reveal the fact that he had been marked as a Death Eater to Hermione and he was stricken with a paralysing fear. "No! Please -"
"Crucio!" hissed the Dark Lord suddenly, hitting Harry with the curse. He didn't hold it for long this time, however, just enough to get his warning across. "Remember who you are talking to! You shall address me properly!"
"Harry, what does he mean?" asked Hermione, speaking for the first time behind one of the two Death Eaters holding her. She sounded anxious and afraid; Harry had rarely heard her voice so uncertain and light before.
"Oh, bring her in front of you already!" snapped the Dark Lord impatiently. "I want to see the Mudblood. All of her, when I reveal the news." Then he turned to Harry and stepped closer. "Would not you, Son?"
Harry realised he was shivering uncontrollably. He wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from Hermione as the two Death Eaters holding her pushed her between themselves and to the front, where she fell to the floor with a grunt from the force. The sound of metal chains brought Harry's attention away from her naked body and to its source. Disbelief made it hard for him to perceive immediately, but suddenly he saw why he had heard that sound: Hermione had a collar around her neck. And not only one, but two chains were hooked on to it; being held by the two Death Eaters on each side of her. She couldn't run even if she tried to and everyone in the room knew it. In spite of himself Harry couldn't help but thinking it was an excellent way to hold someone captive on and that he should remember it for later. A surge of dark magic that had been built up from all the times he had used Dark Arts rushed through his body, telling him to curse everyone he disliked in the room and start the battle early. If only he had had a wand! He could make everyone pay for what they did to his Hermione! Harry's skin prickled with anticipation at the thought ... but his renewed anxiety for his best friend won over the urge, and he remained still.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" asked the Dark Lord dangerously, and it took Harry a moment to realize the Dark Lord was talking to him, and it took him yet another moment to realize what he had asked in the first place.
"I, er, uhm..." Harry glanced at Hermione's crouching body and then he looked quickly over to where the Dark Lord was standing. "I..."
"Speak up!"
"I would rather not, Sir."
"Why are you being polite to that monster!" hissed Hermione from where she half laid, half stood, and was roughly kicked by the Death Eater to her left. She fell sideways with a muffled groan, before covering as though she was afraid to get cursed as well for her disrespectful words, but no curse came. The Dark Lord paid her no attention; his eyes were boring into Harry's furious ones, adapting a curious look.
"Do you not find your Mudblood girlfriend attractive?"
Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Was it a trick question? He didn't know, but he thought maybe it was and decided to lie; quickly throwing up his Occlumency shield further.
"No," he said.
The Dark Lord's arm had been on its way up as though to emphasise a point he was about to make, but stopped in mid motion.
"No?" the Dark Lord sounded disbelieving, and genuinely surprised. "Do you truly not wish to see her? All of her?"
"No," Harry repeated, making his voice clearer and stronger. He couldn't have sounded more convincing, yet his answer could never have been further away from the truth.
"Peculiar," murmured the Dark Lord and walked a few steps forward, closer to Harry. "Very peculiar indeed." His eyes moved across the Death Eaters standing around them. "I happen to know quite a few of our members who would like that very much."
Hermione had been frozen for a while from her spot on the floor, but Harry could see - even from where he was standing - that her jaw had tightened at these words, and his stomach clenched so painfully for her he could scarcely breathe. Again he wondered what they had done to her, and a new desire to use the Dark Arts on her watchers engulfed him.
"Are you gay?" a Death Eater called out from the crowd, unwisely, and he was instantly Crucioed by the Dark Lord, although the Lord himself never took his eyes off Harry. The curse was lifted after a few seconds as it was only meant as a warning. Two crimson eyes scanned Harry for a second, and the Dark Lord said:
"No, our Gryffindor serpent is not."
Harry stood still and waited for the Dark Lord's next move. All this waiting was driving him crazy, and he got more certain by the minute that the Dark Lord had to be truly enjoying himself in those situations where everyone waited for him to move with awe, respect and fear. That had to be the reason all the major meetings like the one he was in and where everyone was collected dragged on to what seemed to him like forever. What was more, however, was that all the waiting was ragging on his nerves.
"She is your girlfriend. How could you not be attracted to her?" asked the Dark Lord suddenly, bringing them all back to the previous topic.
Harry forced a shrug. "We broke up months ago, before I even came here, My Lord. Time change and we grew apart."
He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. What he didn't realise, however, was that in his attempt to make his lie sound as convincing as possible, he had made one irreversible mistake.
"My Lord?!" gasped Hermione, and the little colour she had left in her body disappeared leaving her completely white. "What do you - what did he -? No, Harry - it's not possible, you aren't ... tell me you aren't!"
Harry's stomach plummeted like lead when he realised his mistake, and with wide eyes he turned to look at her again, wanting to say something, anything to assure her, but no words came to him. His body had become efficiently numb and his mind was devoid of any words or thoughts; blank as a new sheet of paper. He felt as though he was standing outside of himself, a mere bystander who could see that something horrible was about to happen, but unable to stop it.
"Harry? Harry!" Her voice brought him back, but he was still as unable to find something to say as before and he looked away from her in shame.
The Dark Lord placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and smirked. Harry wanted to shrug the hand off, but couldn't bring himself to do it as he was frozen with fear and shame. "Did it just occur to you, Mudblood? I have been told that you are intelligent in spite of your blood. Surely you must have guessed before now what your Gryffindor hero has become?"
Hermione shook her head in denial, tears streaming down her cheek. "N-no, it was never an option, he's Harry..."
Harry's throat tightened. Not only did she have to hear him say he didn't want her anymore or found her attractive, now she was also told that he had become everything she was fighting against and he didn't even try to deny it.
"Harry!" she cried in despair, and he forced himself to look back at her yet again, knowing she was fully capable of seeing the truth in his eyes. Her face had gone from ghostly white to beet red and her eyes were swollen and shiny. Her hair was flying everywhere in wild, frizzy curls, only partially covering her breasts ... and even in a situation like this he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was, on the outside as well as her inside: in spite of all the evidence against him she still refused he could be a Death Eater.
Her faith in him was astounding, and sadly also very naïve.
Hermione had not given up. "Tell me it's not true! Tell me you're not one of them! Tell me!" she demanded again, hysterically. Harry closed his eyes briefly before reopening them, peering back at her just as desperately as she was peering at him in an attempt to convey to her, somehow, the reason for it all ... that had he known better, he would never have taken the Mark.
Hermione's face remained uncertain.
"I cannot," he said finally, and his words rang heavily through the room.
Hermione's eyes welled with new tears. "I don't believe you!" she sobbed. "You're not like that ... you're not! I love you!" she said, like that was reason enough.
Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He remembered, as though it had happened decades ago and not only half a year, that there had been a time when she hadn't been ready to say it. And now she had, in spite of everything. The urge to curse everyone else in the room faded a little, like it wasn't as important anymore. Yet, at the same time it made him incredibly sad, because he knew that the chances of him making it out of the Stone Edge with her were very slim, even if he did win.
The Dark Lord made a disgusted face. "There is no such thing as love!" he spat, removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and threw a curse that would cause electric shock at Hermione. She had been kneeling, but when the curse hit her she yelped and fell backwards.
Then the Dark Lord waved his wand in another motion that was all too familiar with Harry. "CRU-"
"NO!" Harry yelled and started forwards to knock the wand away from the Dark Lord's hands, before stopping abruptly when the Dark Lord didn't finish the curse.
"Ah, so you do care..."
"I never said I did not, My Lord," Harry defended himself, though he suspected it was futile, "just that I am not attracted to her. She is still my friend and I do not wish her any harm."
The Dark Lord seemed to accept Harry's words and smirked evilly. "Are you willing to fight for her freedom, then?"
Harry nodded. Fighting for Hermione's freedom had been the entire reason he had come in the first place. He couldn't stop a renewed feeling of dread to settle in him, however. It seemed to Harry that he had been working up to this moment his entire life. The final battle. This was it.
The Dark Lord held up both his hands, and the door behind Harry bolted itself so it was thoroughly sealed and no one could possibly get out. Harry spotted his holly phoenix wand in one of the Dark Lord's hands, and the wand was given to him silently. Harry wasted no time in getting it and a rush of relief went through him when he finally had the slim, fine wood in his hands again. Then, the two chains fastened to Hermione's collar glowed blue for a moment before disappearing and she was released.
Hermione seemed to doubt her new freedom for only a second. She threw herself to her feet and ran to Harry, only partially covering her private parts with her hands and arms. Harry quickly pulled off his robe so he could cover her with it. Hermione ran into his arms with a muffled cry, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. Harry wrapped his robe around her body like a protective blanket and he hugged her back, and holding her had never felt so good ... but then she pulled away, her eyes still puffy and shiny from tears, and she glanced down at his left forearm where his Dark Mark stood out as a horrible glaring tattoo against his pale skin. No robe was covering the truth anymore.
Hermione didn't say anything and stood still, unmoving. Harry could only watch her helplessly as she thought; he doubted it would be a good idea to reach out to her in any way. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, it might send her into hysterics. He could see it in the way she kept her eyes down and away from him to avoid his gaze, and the way she stiffly and slowly took her arms in their rightful sleeves so she could wrap his robe even more tightly around herself.
Harry wished she would say something.
The Dark Lord pointed out three Death Eaters from the large group surrounding them, and as they answered Harry didn't recognise one, so he supposed they had to be new recruits. Harry knew what the Dark Lord was trying to do: tiring Harry out for the good ones. What was worse, however, was that Harry knew it would work.
His lips, mouth and throat suddenly became dry all over again, and his heart was beating painfully against his chest. All the Death Eaters except the three the Dark Lord had chosen stepped back so they were standing against the walls. Harry turned to face his three opponents. They had their masks on and for a brief moment Harry tried to look through the masks and to the human beings hiding behind them - where they there at their own free will? Or had they been Imperiused? Where they perhaps someone's husband or father? If he did something that hurt them, would he risk destroying a family?
That is your old self talking, Harry scolded himself and took a deep, shaky breath. Do not think about that. It is about surviving now. Everything is allowed.
He took another deep breath and looked sideways at Hermione, who had turned as well and was now facing the same way as he just had, towards the centre of the room. He didn't want her to see the way he had learned to fight since Halloween and he knew he would have to use Dark Arts at some point, but somehow he was glad to have her there. It might be the last time she stood by his side like this, and even if she would rather be anywhere else in the world it warmed his heart. He wanted her to be released and he would fight for her freedom until he did not have one living cell left in his body.
Hermione did not have a wand. It would be entirely up to him to do it.
Adrenalin pulsed through Harry's body all the way down to his toes, and he watched in a kind of detached way the Dark Lord as he clapped his pale, bony hands together like a gleeful child waiting to open Christmas presents. The clapping sound echoed back from every wall in the room, like a bell of doom.
Then the Dark Lord raised his arms high up in the air, and shouted:
"Begin!"
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