Chapter Twenty: Dum tempus habemus, operemur bonum
The gentle rolling thunder of air shattered by multiple Portkey transits echoed in the otherwise silent forest as in groups of three Hermione's rescue team arrived.
Dumbledore, Harry, McGonagall. Tonks, Lupin, Bill. Molly, Fred, George. Hagrid, Aberforth, Flitwick. Professor Vector arrived a moment later with a shamed Kingsley and Sturgis Podmore in tow. Hestia Jones, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle. Mundungus did not come, though three more of the surviving Hogwarts teachers did. Though she might have graduated, she had been one of their best students ever.
"Harry?" Kingsley said softly. "I assume those of us who get the Daily Prophet have already seen the signal you will use?"
Harry smirked slightly at the older wizard. "Part of it. You'll know the rest when you see it." His gaze swept around the group, taking them all in, everyone one of them older, many by at least a generation. He mounted the broom. "Remember to be in position and ready to go three hours from now. If I'm not out in twelve hours, get out of here. I'm either dead and Voldemort still is, or I'm dead and, well… You'll need to prepare." He met Kingsley's eyes, and some of the Order members who had been more resistant to the mission. "I know some of you did not want to be here, that some of you think this is stupid and foolhardy, that we cannot take these risks. No one wants to give their life in a waste, I know that. But the greater the risk, the greater the reward."
The broom floated a little bit off the ground and Harry hovered. "I beat Voldemort not because I was a more powerful wizard, or a more knowledgeable one, or anything of the sort. I beat him because I had to win. And because I had love, and friends, and family." He smiled at the Weasleys, then Lupin. "I could not have done it without this team, and together, this team can and will overcome. We will prevail, and our risk, while foolish if we were to lose, will be the greatest triumph of Good in a thousand years. Thank you all for this." Green eyes took them all in one last time, and then he sped away, zooming towards the distance castle.
"That poor boy has given so much," Hestia Jones said, near apologetically, "that we should be more than willing to do as he asks."
Kingsley answered her, his face a mixture of shame, worry, and excitement. "He's not the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, Hestia. He's the Man-Who-Triumphed. He has done so much always considered impossible that I'll give him the benefit of the doubt to pull off one more miracle, though everything in my head and my training is screaming that it is a mistake."
"Sometimes we just have to listen to our hearts," Dumbledore said softly as Harry faded from view, his eyes on the speck of black that the young wizard was. "Let us get moving. It would not do to have our hero save the day and rescue his princess, and not have the cavalry arrive in time."
This prompted a chuckle from the male Weasleys, but the Muggle reference just left everyone else looking confused. Twenty people then faded into the forest, and its silence returned.
* * * * * *
Normally Harry would have reveled in the free sensation of flight, but there was no Snitch before him now, no Draco to knock off a broom, nor a Ron to cheer as Keeper. Only the far more elusive goal of destiny and honor, of a final confrontation for the fate of the world for a generation, lay floating before him.
I'm coming Hermione. I only hope we were right about their plan. And mine. Hell, I even hope that Draco was right.
After an hour of relatively slow flight, Harry grounded, looking up at the imposing edifice of Durmstrang castle and another memory of the future came rushing back to him, as the doors cracked open just enough to receive him.
As Harry's feet touched the ground, the massive protective doors of Durmstrang yawned open wide, revealing the darkness within. Shapes materialized from shadows, stepping out into the glimmering starlight. "How arrogant you have become, Potter, in the last two years, since that battle where your mistakes slaughtered your friends," came the sneering drawl of Lucius Malfoy from under one of the dark robes.
"In the last two years, I have broken and destroyed the most powerful and feared force of Dark Wizards the world has ever known, Lucius."
"You dare…" spat the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange, and Harry carefully noted her location as well, but she broke off at Malfoy's upraised hand.
"We are not broken, much less defeated, Potter, whatever you may believe."
"Of course you are. I killed Voldemort, and in the two years since then, I have culled another hundred and thirty of your number," Harry replied with a grin spreading across his features, the only ones visible on this clear night.
"There are still forty of us here, Potter. You have not faced that many of us on your own. Tell us where our fellows are so that we might retrieve them and rule as we ought once you are dead."
The laugh Harry gave chilled the air, and caused the Death Eaters to visibly tense with fear, as if a Dementor had come among them. "Lucius, Lucius, Lucius." Harry's eyes were beginning to glow a bright emerald green, as the white streak of his smile flashed horribly in the night. "You're right. I haven't faced forty of you on my own since the battle in the Department of Mysteries, where, if I recall, you all broke and ran. Of course, your ultimatum sounded almost exactly like what Draco said a year ago when you attempted to use your son as bait to trap me."
"Where have you put him, Potter? How did you make wards so strong we could not track through them?" Lucius was demanding, questioning him as a small child, not a man who had come this night with every intention of killing everyone else present.
"Draco is here, Lucius, with us right now." Even through the darkness, Harry could sense the man's shock. The death's head Harry's macabre grin became at that point rivaled the sculpted horror of the masks the Death Eaters wore, as he flicked his hand forward, dumping from the burlap sack there something round which rolled to Lucius' feet.
Silvery, pale blonde hair flashed in the moonlight, and grey eyes came to rest facing upwards, the horror of his son's brutal death, the end of his family line, confronting Lucius Malfoy at last. "There are no Death Eaters to rescue from my clutches, Lucius. I've killed every last one of them."
The last thing Lucius Malfoy ever saw as his shocked gaze, filled with horrified understanding, snapped up to face Harry Potter, was the green light that killed him.
The Death Eaters were expecting him, and Harry stepped inside, empty hands raised.
"Accio wand!" came a voice from the shadows, accompanied by a flash of long blonde hair.
"You could have just asked, Narcissa." The shadow gave a start, and Harry grinned at his correct guess. "You might as well take me into the chamber where this is to take place, so I can get this over with."
The voice from the shadows came again. "Follow me, then, Potter."
Harry grimaced at the petty power games as the older witch still did not reveal her location. The darkness in the castle was becoming quite annoying, and he muttered, "Lumos." The end of his wand, in Narcissa's hand, lit up, and she paused to glare at him.
"Very funny, Potter. The Death Exchange requires that there be no light but fire present in the chamber, so if you please, refrain from doing that again. Nox." The light went out, and Harry followed by listening carefully to the echo of Narcissa's heels on the bare stones that made up the ancient castle. Her words were slightly disturbing, in that they implied the Death Exchange was already in progress.
Maybe he should have had Hermione read him the actual ritual, rather than just the synopsis of the whole event. A door cracked open, and light streamed from it, causing Harry to blink as his eyes adjusted to the flames giving birth to the silhouette of Narcissa Malfoy and gleaming from some uncontained hair.
The flagstones gleamed harshly in the light, and a dull brown outline lay on the floor, dried into a pentagram. "Human?" Harry asked softly, and received a harsh chuckle in reply from the dark witch.
"I suppose you could call that rat human, if it weren't an insult to even Mudbloods. Wormtail was more than eager to serve his Master in this way once more."
Harry could not help it; he smiled darkly. "I never particularly cared for him myself. Perhaps we don't have to disagree on everything."
"No, Potter, just most things. Fortunately, in a very short time, you will be dead, and your opinion will no longer matter even to you, as it has never mattered to the rest of us." The voice came from within the lit room, standing somehow shadowed on the top point of the pentagram. It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
Harry's grin grew wider. "Somehow I knew you would be the one who was too afraid to undergo the ritual for Voldemort, Lucius." His eyes swept over the biers adorning the other four points of the pentagram, taking in Bellatrix's body, the black hair laying out as her chest rose and fell with a slight motion. On her chest was drawn the Dark Mark in the same blood it appeared that adorned the floor, and Harry tore his eyes away from it to look at Hermione. She too was dressed in a filmy drape that revealed the massive lightning bolt drawn in blood across her torso. A bloodied bandage adorned her arm, so while not healed, she was not still bleeding either.
The sight reassured him, and he stepped forward. A claw-like hand shot out and stopped him just short of the pentagram. "No shoes, Potter, nor Muggle clothing, inside the ring."
Harry frowned. "You must be joking. The only reason I'm doing this is to get Hermione back, so before I go any further, I want to know that one, she's alright, and two, she'll stay that way if I do this."
"Of course she is," Narcissa snapped impatiently. "But she's already in the spirit realm for the exchange. So you had best hurry and get ready to do this."
"On one condition."
Narcissa and Lucius stared at him. "Fine, what is it, Potter?" the male Malfoy spat after a moment.
"Both of you swear and oath on your family lines that you will do everything in your power to not let Hermione come to any harm, so that she dies of old age."
"Fine," said both of the Death Eaters together, and Lucius nodded at Narcissa first.
The blonde woman took the lead. "I, Narcissa Black Malfoy, swear on the pure blood of the Black Family line, that through my action or inaction, no harm shall come to Hermione Jane Granger, so that she dies of old age." Harry's eyes widened at the use of Hermione's middle name, which implied that the Death Eaters knew more than he was aware of about them. Scary. "Good enough, Potter?"
"More than." Green eyes swiveled to Lucius. "And you?"
"I, Lucius Malfoy, pure-blooded descent of the ancient line of Malfoy, swear that through neither my inaction nor my action shall I allow any harm to come to Hermione Jane Granger, so that she dies of old age." Lucius smirked at Potter. "You know the Dark Lord will probably just kill us now that we've made these oaths, and then slaughter her, once he's returned to us?"
"Of course I do," Harry responded calmly. "But your actions will give her a chance. That's all I'm asking for." And since I don't plan on him coming back, there's no threat to her, assuming the two of them can handle Bellatrix if she wakes up before I do. They can't break those oaths without dying. Great thing about blood oaths, that. "Now I suppose I'll participate in your stupid ritual."
Shrugging out of his robes, he revealed himself dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, as well as trainers, all of which he stripped away, feeling the deathly chill in the air as he did so, before finally he was naked, even removing his glasses. "Do you mind if I put the robe back on? It's a bit cold without it. If I'm going to die, I can at least be comfortable."
"Stop delaying," Lucius snapped. "Put the robe on and climb up on the bier so we can finish this once and for all."
"Yes, Lucius, once and for all," Harry replied, barely managing to conceal his grin. He entered the pentagram slowly, then mounted the bier, laying out on it to discover it was just the right length for him, an inch longer above his head and below his feet. He closed his eyes. "Let's get on with this."
Lucius began to speak, low fast words in ancient Latin, reciting the spells which were needed. As Harry looked up through his closed eyes, the dancing of a thousand candle flames in the chamber shone through them, and then began to fade as Lucius finished the spells that bound his body to life until his spirit was last claimed by the exchange.
Then the last words Harry Potter heard on this Earth were, at least as he translated them, "Protectors of Time and Space, Guardians of Night and Death, Givers of Life and Goodness, Sources of Evil and Hate, Bringers of Light and Knowledge, unto you we send this soul, a spirit willing and ready, in exchange for one who died, our Master departed, The Dark Lord Voldemort. For him, we exchange Harry Potter, whose death will bring us life."
Then the flames Harry could dimly see exploded into a nova of brightness, crashing through his eyes, blinding him, sucking him in, pulling at him with invisible fingers…
Then everything went black.
Author's Note: The Chapter title translates as "While we have time, let us do good."