Chapter Seventeen: To Put a Stopper in Death
The Apparition was uneventful, despite the size of their party, which had grown from the three Harry had expected last night to an even eight, including all four Weasleys and Tonks. Walking out in the open, Harry was relieved when no one tried to approach them like had happened in Diagon Alley. Of course, by now word would have spread through the wizarding world about what happened in the Alley, and the displays of power Harry had put on there.
Of course, the darkness of the aura around the eight brooding, silent people could have been enough to keep anyone away as the group walked through the village on their way to the castle. Entering the grounds, Harry felt a slight tingle travel through him, something he had not really noticed before, as they pierced the wards.
Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting for them at the main doors to the castle, smiling, at least until they took in the chill that hovered over them. Dumbledore frowned slightly. "What brings us the pleasure of this visit, Molly, Remus, and the rest of you?"
Harry spoke from the front of the group. "I've volunteered to show the Weasley's how Ginny died, if you do not mind me borrowing your Pensieve, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled. "You are welcome to borrow it for that, Harry. Indeed, you might wish to get your own, as I imagine you have many memories and thoughts you need to examine." His eyes twinkled slightly at the secret the two of them shared.
"Perhaps, Professor," Harry replied softly as Hermione, a couple of steps behind him, spoke.
"I'm here to borrow a book from Madame Pince to read about that thing the Death Eaters were planning on." She very carefully did not mention the phrase 'Death Exchange' in front of the Weasleys, Harry noted idly as Dumbledore nodded.
"Very well. Welcome back to Hogwarts, even if it is just for a short time." He turned and led them inside. "If you'll follow me up to my office, we'll get the Pensive and you can view Harry's memory." The gargoyle leapt aside at Dumbledore's approach, and the group trooped up the curving staircase to the top of the tower.
When Harry extracted the memory from his skull, he watched Hermione's eyes widen in surprise, unaware that he knew how to do that, and echoing shock in everyone else's but the Headmaster's. As it swirled away into the Pensive, Harry leaned forward and touched his nose to the liquid before being sucked in.
The memory was frozen in time as the rest of the party, one by one, arrived. The Weasleys, Hermione, and Dumbledore. "I hope you don't mind the liberty, Harry," he said softly as he appeared. "I am most curious about this as well." Apparently Remus and Tonks had elected to not watch, and the Deputy Headmistress had peeled off on their way to the office, claiming that she needed to do something.
The tableau was set before them, Harry standing idly in the middle of a group of bodies, the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army strewn around the circular room of doors. Some were breathing, and some were not. Various dark shadows milled about the edges of the scene, Death Eaters waking their comrades. Red hair flaming above her face, drawn and tired looking, her cheeks flushed and clashing with her hair, Ginny stood above the downed body of Hermione, shaking with fury as motion resumed.
As her wand came up in anger, a cool aristocratic voice echoed through the nearly silent room, shouted from under a Death Eater's mask. "Ginny, stop."
Harry was standing limply in the middle of the room as Ginny wheeled angrily towards Draco. "Why should I? It's her fault, you know?"
The chuckle was harsher, darker than Harry remembered it, full of evil and a desire to inflict as much pain as possible. "Your revenge will be so much sweeter if you make him do it."
A beat passed until Ginny finally lowered her wand, and focused on Harry directly. "Kill the Mudblood, Harry. Use the killing curse on Hermione, so she won't wake up this time."
A gasp came from those standing, watching the replay. Harry thought it was from Hermione. He knew the tears and crying were from Misses Weasley.
Harry slowly raised his wand arm, his eyes gleaming as it wavered downwards, then hardening with determination as it drifted back upwards, still wavering as he fought the curse. "Avada Kedav…" It wavered more, shifting its target, as he finished the second word, "...ra!" The green light speared outward and struck Ginny full in the chest, tossing her already dead body back limply, the wood of her wand echoing strangely as it hit the floor.
The memory ended, and Harry blinked to clear his vision as reality returned abruptly. He leaned heavily against a nearby table, taking in the looks of the people around him, their mingled horror and pain, and lowered his head. "So now you know," he whispered.
It seemed that no one had heard him, though. Molly Weasley was weeping openly on the floor, crying into Fred's shoulder, and Harry clearly heard her say to the twin, "I want to go home now." As her family slowly moved to comply, Dumbledore stood silently, Hermione watched Harry with near impassivity, and Remus and Tonks tried not to be in the way.
The whirl of fire reached Harry's ears, once, twice, a third time, and a hand clapped onto his shoulder. Bill's voice spoke to him. "I wish it hadn't happened, Harry. I loved Ginny. But you did the right thing. There was nothing else you could have done, so don't blame yourself. Mum will forgive you in time." Then there was the last swirl of fire, and the Weasleys were gone.
"Bill is right, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "You must not blame yourself for the choices of others. I believe you came here for a reason, though. The answers you seek for that quest should be awaiting you in the library."
"I'll be along in a minute, Harry," Hermione said. "I need to ask Professor Dumbledore a somewhat private question."
"Alright. I'll wait for you in the library." Harry smiled faintly, and with Lupin and Tonks trailing after him, wound his way down the curling stairs and set off to the library.
* * * * * *
When Hermione entered the library a bit later, her face had an odd look on it that Harry did not recognize at all, and one that quickly vanished when she spotted him sitting there with the large tome she had wanted from Madame Pince, To Put a Stopper in Death. It was crack open across a table, and Remus and Tonks were sitting at a nearby table, going through some small book on something, politely ignoring the two youngsters in favor of their own conversation.
As Hermione sat across from Harry and held out her hand, Harry smiled grimly, sliding the book across to her. "You're not going to like this."
Without paying much attention to what she was reading, Hermione began to read aloud. "The spell requires the blood sacrifice of thirteen house elves…" Her expression became dark and clouded. "Thirteen house elves!?" She glared at Harry. "How could they?"
Harry was laughing slightly. "Turn to the next page, Hermione. That's where the section on the Death Exchange starts. That spell is for capturing the souls after a magical battle and keeping them from departing this realm."
Glaring at him still, Hermione flipped the page roughly, with a huff, and began to read again. "The Death Exchange is an ancient magical ritual used to bring a person back from the other side within a lunar month's time of their death. It requires the sacrifice of one life for another, a life that could have been lost at the time the life that was lost departed." Hermione looked up. "No wonder they need you. Once Voldemort learned the prophecy, he must have been preparing this just in case."
Harry nodded. "I can guess. I wonder why they didn't do this bef…" He broke off suddenly, but this slip was not so easily covered.
Hermione looked at him. "What do you mean? Didn't do this before? When you were little?" She missed the relief that flared in his eyes as proved an excuse for his slip without realizing it. "Probably because they did not know of it, or they had to set up for it some how. Voldemort wasn't really dead then, either, was he?"
Harry shook his head, and Hermione frowned, her nose dipping back into the book. "The person who gives up their life to save the other must be a willing participant in the ritual, with nothing holding them back. Their life must be freely given to be exchanged with the departed's. The only people who are eligible to participate in the Death Exchange are those who's theoretical manner and time of death would have closely resembled that of the deceased's." Hermione looked up again. "Well, that's simple, then, Harry. You just refuse to cooperate with them."
"I don't know if I can do that, Hermione, if they were to threaten you… or another friend." He hoped the pause was barely noticeable. "Keep reading, there had to be something else we can do."
Hermione looked long and hard at Harry for a moment before she lowered her head once more, her eyes darting back and forth over the pages. "The ritual requires four people, and if possible, the body of the person whom the others are trying to retrieve from death's grasp. Four stone biers are laid out at the corners of the pentagram, with the body on one of the bottom points, the Advacati, on the sides, the Speaker at the top, and the person who is giving up their life on the other bottom corner. If possible, the Advacati should be someone who was close to the two being exchanged during their lifetime. The Speaker can be anyone."
Harry's eyes darkened. "I bet Voldemort's Advacati is Bellatrix, then, or Lucius."
"I'm the brightest witch of my age, Harry," Hermione said with a little laugh. "I'm not going to take that bet."
Harry grinned, despite the dark topic. "Smart girl. If this goes down, somehow, they'll probably try and make you be the Advacati for me."
Hermione nodded. "I had guessed that too, hence their interest in me."
"I still haven't heard any other way to beat this plan of theirs, though. Keep going."
Dipping her eyes away from Harry, and trying to disguise the growing worry in her voice, Hermione once more began to read. "The Advacati are placed under the spell first, and enter into the realm beyond life only partially, then the Giver," her eyes flicked up at Harry, "enters the spirit realm fully. Should any physical trauma occur to the body of the Giver, the spell will be instantly broken, and they will return to the physical world, and be unable to undergo the ritual until they have healed." Hermione looked up again. "Well, we could just get someone inside to stab you during the ritual."
Harry's eyes darkened into frozen green glass. "I think not."
"I was only kidding, Harry," she said meekly, her fear growing by the minute as she continued to read about this fascinating and dangerous ritual. "While it is unclear what precisely occurs in the spirit realm, the title of Advacati gives some clues as to the activities which take place there, presuming some sort of proving for the Exchange. I don't think I could do that for you, Harry."
Harry smiled. "That's good to know, I guess. But I'm not sure it would really matter, since we don't know what happens in the spirit realm."
Hermione shrugged slowly. "That's true." She looked back down and her face paled. "There isn't any more information in here, Harry. Just a list of known times a Death Exchange has been completed, and the spells that the Speaker would require." She looked him in the face. "What else can we do?"
Harry's face grew pensive for a moment, then he frowned. "Reread the part about the requirements for the Giver."
Hermione complied, and as she finished, Harry smiled. "That's it. That's how we'll beat it, if we have to." Hermione looked confused, but then, she was unaware of what had happened in the Death Room of the Department of Mysteries.
Harry explained, and her eyes got wide, and her fear vanished.