Chapter Twenty-Four: Causa finite est.
"Get out of my way, Malfoy!" was the sound that recalled Harry Potter to consciousness. "That's not Potter, it is some sort of trick, some freak of nature!"
"He's not even awake yet, Bellatrix. We'll question him when he wakes up."
Harry grinned, and opened his eyes. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were standing between Bellatrix and Hermione, who in turn was standing between him and Bellatrix, blocking her from firing any spells at him. They were obviously taking no chances with their own lives here.
"Well, the Mudblood is no longer of use to us, we've tried this and failed. At least let me kill her."
"Bella," came the soft voice of Narcissa, "control your anger. Yes, we've failed, but there is no reason we cannot begin again. If it really is not Potter, perhaps he will still come for the Mudblood when he realizes his game has failed."
"No. I'm going to kill both of them right…"
"You're not going to do any such thing, Bellatrix," Harry said, sitting up. She was gaping at him, his voice pausing her action just long enough for him to flick his hand. A red stunner bolt threw the dark haired Death Eater to the floor as Harry stood once more on the bare floor. "Thank you for performing so ably, Mister, Misses Malfoy. But I'm going to have to ask you to go to sleep now."
The two light haired Death Eaters crumpled to the floor with no other visible sign of activity from Harry, and Hermione's mouth dropped open as she gaped at Harry in the candlelight. "Harry?"
"Hermione?"
"Is this really happening? I mean, who… who are you? What's going on? How…" Hermione was going on, questions tumbling out without pause, as she went into her inquisitive mode, but Harry cut her off by raising his hand.
"We'll have time for that later, 'Mione. Now, we have to get out of here."
"No… I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me who you are. Cause you're not the Harry Potter I knew, that much is obvious. I believe that voice we heard, I know those things were real, but… I'm not dead, so what the Hell is going on?"
"Hermione, please, trust me on this."
Hermione sat down on the stone bier she had been laid out on, and glared across the room at him. "Why should I?"
"Hermione, we really do not have time to talk about this. We have to get out of here now. I have no idea how much time passed while we were in the spirit realm, but it very well could have been so much that my backup has vanished. I would rather not fight over a hundred Death Eaters to get us out of here on my own if I can help it." At this, he curled his fingers around his wand, which had returned to his hand, and he produced another wand out thin air.
Hermione's.
"Where did you get this?"
"From Bellatrix's robe over in the corner. You're going to need it on the way out to protect yourself. You do want to leave, right?" Harry looked at her questioningly, prepared to stun her and carry her if he had to.
"Yes, but you're not my Harry."
Her Harry? That bore exploring, at a later point. "Am I not? I'm the same person you've been around for the last ten days, since Voldemort was defeated. All that is different is that you know the truth now, a truth I never would have told you by choice."
"So would you have lied for the rest of your life?" Hermione's voice was getting louder, more shrill, as her frustration was obviously mounting with Harry's obstructionist line of thinking.
"Yes. I had to… you wouldn't understand why." He glared at her slightly. "And don't be so loud, unless you want to bring every single one of those Death Eaters down on us.
"Try me," she said in a softer voice. "I think I'll understand."
"Not right now. When we get out of here, I promise I'll answer all your questions."
"Fine. So how do we go about getting out of here, since this is your show?" Hermione looked at him, a slight bit of sarcasm in her eyes and tone, still obviously upset with him over his presumption, his deceit.
"Do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you." He flicked his wand at the pile of clothing on the floor, his shirt appearing on Hermione, feeling his own jeans and shoes appear on underneath his robe. "That outfit you were in is just too distracting."
Despite her anger, Hermione blushed at the compliment, though it only appeared on the surface to make her angrier, and Harry turned around, waving the arm that did not have his wand at the door, which slid silently open. "Follow me," he whispered.
Then, for ten seconds, he failed to move, counting down inside his head, feeling his connection open again, sliding open a door in a room thousands of miles away. There was almost a physical snap, and…
He was connected, and the power was flowing through him…
The hood on his robe drifted up, and the shadows seemed to swirl around him, darker and more powerful, nearly physical things. The essence of magical power flowed away from him as he began to stalk forward, moving down the corridor with a lengthy, measured stride.
The doors to the main entry hall of Durmstrang blew open at his approach, revealing to them the assembled ranks of the Death Eaters, row upon row, probably a hundred and twenty in all, perhaps even all of the remainder of that order.
A tall, thin man Harry instantly recognized as Antonin Dolohov stepped forward. "My lord?" His voice was questioning, soft, surprised.
"Yesssss," Harry hissed back, his voice sliding higher, growing cold and full of death, "it is I."
The rustle which greeted this pronouncement was nothing to the gasp Harry could hear from Hermione. She already thought he was not the Harry she knew, and now he was adding this on top of it. Brightest witch of the age or not, she was going to be horribly confused by the time this was over. As he took more steps forward, the Death Eaters parted before him, slowly turning to make a circle around him. Hermione, bless her, was still following him closely.
"If I might be so bold, milord, where are the Malfoys and Bellatrix?"
Harry turned with majestic grace, his burning red gaze sweeping across Hermione who shrunk away from it, before settling on Dolohov. "You may be so bold. They are resting from their participation in the Death Exchange."
Harry could see Dolohov blink, and fought down another inappropriate grin as the man asked. "And the Mudblood?" indicating Hermione with his hand. "Does she get the standard treatment?"
Harry's blood boiled at that thought. The Death Eaters standard treatment was not just death for Muggle-borns, especially the witches. "No. This one is mine, and mine alone."
He could sense their confusion, and knew instantly it had been the wrong thing to say, as Dolohov stepped closer to him. Too close. Even as powerful as he was at the moment, it was impossible to fool any of the Death Eaters if they got too close to him. And Dolohov had now. "You're not the Dark Lord. You're Potter," he snarled angrily whipping his wand out, slashing it through the air…
Unfortunately for him, by the time he let loose with the curse he had been trying to use, it merely rebounded from the floor as he flew upwards and away from Harry and Hermione, a translucent shield bubble popping into existence around them. A hundred curses slammed into that bubble, bathing the occupants in a flash of colors as Harry's wand pointed towards the ceiling high above them. "Aetherium Bombarda!"
The spell should have blown in the roof. It should have been the signal Harry had mentioned before, the signal for the Order of the Phoenix to come bail them out of trouble.
The only trouble was, nothing happened.
As the lights continued to pound against the slowly shrinking diameter of the bubble shield that protect the two young magical people from the deadly attack raining in at them, bending certain spells around the bubble instead of stopping them, Harry knew instantly what the problem was, feeling the strain of maintaining the protective field beginning to build. He was trying to do too much at one time. He looked frantically at Hermione, and shouted, above the clamor of the spells raining upon them, "Kiss me!"
She stared at him like he had lost his mind, for a moment, but Harry knew there was no time to waste. "I said to do exactly what I…" With each word, he took at step towards the young witch, and at the last, brought his mouth down on hers, rather forcefully.
Time stopped for them. Force instantly became softness on the part of Harry as his lips contacted those of the woman he loved, and the surge which shot through him was beyond merely indescribable. In that instant, the waves of color skittering over the shielding dome played against Harry's mind as fireworks, the reverberating clash of artillery all around them.
Some Muggles claimed electricity flowed when you kissed the woman that you loved, but Harry knew that this kiss, this first kiss, contained nothing but power, love… All the electricity in the world was pale in comparison.
Their lips parted, Hermione's eyes wide with shock at the jolt she had felt, as Harry pulled away spinning wand upright to point at the ceiling once more…
"AETHERIUM BOMBARDA!" The ceiling shattered, the explosion rolling down over them, the very ending of the world experienced at once around them. This had happened before, once, but then, seven floors had separated them from the powerful strike. It was a pulse of pure energy, directed downward from the sky, at the chosen point.
Magic all around them fell apart, wards collapsing, ghosts vanishing, thousands of enchantments failing as in an instant, Durmstrang Castle was turned from the proud yet small school for Wizards, and dark foreboding headquarters of the Death Eaters, into the ruin that Muggles would see upon observing it.
Harry's wand moved in a circle, counterclockwise, and then slashed down, up and to his left, and back to his right as he shouted his second spell. "In hoc signo vinces: Transit umbra, lux permanent!"
As the Death Eaters scattered throughout the hall, abandoning their attacks temporarily to shield themselves from the collapsing pieces of the castle, the darkness of the night filled with fire, and the Phoenix was born, glimmering brightly in the twilight of early morning, green snake writhing in its razor sharp beak of flame.
As Harry blinked quickly to clear his vision, he took in the scene that lay before him, bathed in unearthly light, shining down from the Phoenix Mark hovering over their heads through the shattered roof.
When he saw that perhaps forty to fifty of the Death Eaters were still on their feet, he grinned, and an unnatural wind whipped around him. He dimly heard Hermione speak. "It really is you, isn't it, Harry? Everything that happened…"
Harry interrupted her. Occasionally, her being the smartest girl he knew was a pain. Like now, as she was fixated on what had happened, and not on what was happening. "Hermione, yes, it is. Now, run. I'll hold them off." She did not move. "RUN!"
As Hermione bolted for the barely standing, shattered remains of the doors, skidding around debris that littered the floor, Harry spun around, the power billowing out from him, lifting chunks of the debris to swirl in the air. As the air currents twisted around him in a tornado, Harry released the chunks of stone, throwing them in all directions to force the Death Eaters to take action, before he exploded into motion.
The sword no one had realized Harry was carrying appeared in his right hand, sliding out of his robe sleeve in much the same way it had once slid from the Sorting Hat, replacing his wand, which moved to his left arm in a single, fluid motion. He charged, light exploding from the end of his wand, while the flames of the phoenix overhead lit his blade with fire…
As spells began to fire back at him, he deflected some of them with the mirror polished blade, swinging it about him defensively as a shield, additionally blurring the outline of his body and making him difficult to target.
The cacophony of a rainbow sped through the room, reflected away from Harry's body as he charged the Death Eaters, distracting them from the escaping Hermione. Dark robed figures dropped away left and right, occasionally venturing too close to Harry and dropping in a spray of blood. Harry could hardly keep up with his own movements, never feeling the impacts of spells on the blade, never feeling the resistance of flesh and bone to his strikes. As he wheeled to take on a different section of the Death Eaters, which were attempting to group together for mutual support, a series of crackling pops echoed through the room…
The cavalry, or, more specifically, the Order of the Phoenix, had arrived…
The Death Eaters three to two advantage meant nothing as the fight within the ruins of the castle was swiftly concluded, the surprise of the Order's sudden appearance, combined with the devastation Harry was wreaking on all before him ending the conflict once and for all.
As he breathed out heavily, he glanced down at the blade of the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and saw it gleaming with the crimson stain of blood. He was suddenly doubtful as to whether he had killed anyone or not, but he had felt no deaths during the fight.
Cleaning off the blade on one of the robes of one of the stunned Death Eaters nearby, he slid it back into the sleeve of his robe, fastening it in there with the same spell he had used before. Then he looked around, unable to see Hermione, and having not felt any death, Eater, or otherwise, he knew she was at least not dead. He could see no white in the between the rubble that littered the ground that had been the floor of the castle, and reasoned that she must have made it outside the castle. Which meant she was safe. He headed towards, then out of the broken pieces of wood that had once been the great entrance to Durmstrang.
Only to drop into a forward roll as a spell flashed by, glancing off the iron that held the pieces of wood together with a crash. His wand was back in his right hand as he came to his feet, and he began to smile as Hermione unleashed another spell in his direction, an arcing blue bolt of fire. This one came closer to its target than the last, upon which, Harry discovered with dismay, he was not actually.
It was Dolohov. Again. The Death Eater appeared to be tired, perhaps injured, as he barely erected a shield in time to deflect the blast, stumbling from the impact. That prompted a grin from Harry as Hermione moved forward, a slight breeze accompanying the dawn which burst into glorious ascension, finally overpowering his phoenix signature high overhead, the breeze ruffling the minimalist clothing Hermione wore, and tossing her hair about her face.
Another spell lanced out from the young witch as Harry watched, as always, impressed with her wand work, and he slid his wand back into his belt as Dolohov failed to block that one, barely dodging aside, still getting grazed and thrown by it, though. Hermione dodged the return spell, Dolohov's signature streak of purple flame, with effortless grace, and hit Dolohov square in the chest before he could get up with her next spell. The red blast of the stunner dropped him like a sack of potatoes, but something looked decidedly odd about the way it splashed against the Death Eater.
A high, cackling laugh drew Harry's attention, and Hermione's, to the woman fleeing across the castle grounds, as she sent a burning green bolt at the young witch, who dived aside, sending a stunner back at her. Bellatrix whirled about, fully focusing on Hermione, and Harry stepped forward, but neither of the women had seen him yet.
He knew Bellatrix was far more dangerous than Dolohov on his worst day, and he was not about to lose Hermione again. And Bellatrix was playing for keeps, he realized, as yet another Killing Curse broke through the rosy fingers of Dawn. Hermione had apparently figured this out too, and shot off three stunning spells in quick succession, obviously hoping Bellatrix's shield charm would fail to stop all three. Harry watched with interest, but his young love seemed to be holding her own, and he just kept himself loose and ready, able to step in at any moment and save her.
"How did you get out of there?" Hermione shouted across at Bellatrix. "I saw Harry stun you."
This only prompted another round of laughter from the mad dark witch. "That only matters when you have not been stunned as much as I have. You begin to build up an immunity to it, it wears off faster, you little Mudblood. And now, since your lil' Potty boyfriend is inside, and left you all alone, I'm going to make sure he has heartbreak to come out to." Yet a third green blast screamed across the grounds towards Hermione, who easily ducked under it.
"You're too slow, Bellatrix, and you talk too much." As she spoke, Hermione shot out her blue flames again, followed by a copy of Dolohov's purple ones, and the red glare of a stunner. Bellatrix turned them aside with a snarl, and the battle joined up once more. Harry stood there, admiring Hermione, his gaze focusing on her so he could feel the threats, opening himself up to the magic, the love, the power, which he could claim as his own. She was safe, nothing really threatening her, though one powerful blast did stagger her, she was easily holding off the female Death Eater, and pounding back at the raven haired woman as the opportunity presented itself.
It was then that movement caught Harry's eye, just as a stunner splashed off a shielded Hermione and he realized what had been wrong with the blast that had downed Dolohov. The man was up and moving, not actually stunned, but faking it, moving much better than he had been when fighting Hermione before, smoother, more fluid… lethal.
Harry flicked his fingers at the man, and tore the wand from his grasp, then next rotation, grabbing him in an invisible grip and sending him flying towards the young wizard through the air, slammed onto his knees as he landed. Harry's sword was pressed into Dolohov's throat. "Don't you know, Antonin, that it's hardly considered appropriate to use the Killing Curse to someone's back?" The man tried to rear back and snarl at Harry, but a slight increase in the pressure of the blade cut him off mid-sound. "That's what I thought. Time to sleep, Antonin." Like the Malfoys, Dolohov dropped bonelessly to the ground at these words.
Harry went back to watching Hermione's duel with Bellatrix, admiring the curve of her calf as she bounced sideways on her toes, the muscles straining beneath the skin as she fought to stay upright for just the required length of time to fire off the spell before hitting and rolling along the ground.
Realistically, Harry knew, he should not really be admiring the view as his shirt Hermione was wearing shifted higher on her thigh, baring pale skin in the midst of her roll, but as long as he was monitoring her, he was confident she was in no danger. Instead, despite the huge number of curses Bellatrix was letting fly, it was pretty clear Hermione had gained the upper hand while he had dealt with Dolohov. The white fabric Hermione wore was stained with grass, but Bella's robes were slick with blood, and her aim was slightly off, as if she had hit her head. And given the blood matting her black hair, it was possible that she had.
Another spell slammed into grass, throwing up a spray of dirt, but it was two yards from Hermione, and the younger witch began to pour it on. Harry knew she could win at this point, and watched for the inevitable conclusion. Before his change, even he was usually defeated in the mock duels at school by Hermione using this tactic, if he let her get the chance. Pure white light streamed from Hermione's wand, continuous, with slight colored pulses to it, nearly impossible to see, a continuous stream of spells packed so tightly the colors mixed. Bellatrix tried to hold, tried to stand, but it only took a moment for her to miss the first block. The next miss happened even faster, and finally the female Lestrange dropped onto the ground. A series of two stunners made sure she would not get up any time soon.
Hermione turned around, and surprise rushed across her face as she saw Harry standing there in the early morning sun, sword still in his hand, wand in the other. He grinned at her as she walked gingerly towards him, sweat matting the t-shirt to her body, walking on her toes like a dancer, graceful movements only betraying the merest hint of the exhaustion Harry knew she had to be feeling after that display. "How long have you been standing there?" she demanded as she got within a few feet of him, placing her hands on her hips.
Harry reflected that Hermione looked extremely beautiful wearing his shirt and nothing else, but thought that would be not the appropriate thing to say at the moment. "Well, I came out of the castle a moment before you thought you got Dolohov."
"And you didn't help me? And what do you mean, thought I got him?" Her gaze drifted down and saw Dolohov crumpled at Harry's feet, shifting instantly to the sword, which was unadorned with blood. Her eyes visibly softened at that.
"Well, he fooled you into thinking you had taken him down, and tried to hit you from behind while you were fighting Bellatrix. I knocked him out like I did to the Malfoys. And I didn't help you because you looked like you had everything under control." He smiled at her. "Very nicely done," he added.
Hermione blushed at that. "Thank you, Harry. You didn't do too badly yourself."
Another voice interrupted their moment. "Understatement of the year, that." It was Kingsley, accompanied by Hestia Jones. "It would appear I have apology to make, Mister Potter. You were right, and I was wrong. I'm sorry for that."
Harry shook his head. "I understand why you acted as you did, Auror Kingsley. Perhaps I would have acted the same way in your place." He reached out and gently grasped Hermione's hand. "But I had my reasons for doing what I did." He pulled her closer to him, and felt no resistance, then felt Hermione's head drop onto his shoulder. He blinked in surprise, then smiled at the two older people. "Hadn't you better tell everyone you found us?"
Hestia blinked, and stood up suddenly. "Oh, right, of course." She twirled her wand, and sent a silvery Patronus shooting back towards the castle. There was a bit of silence, and Harry took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Hermione's waist, and felt her shift closer, leaning more of her weight onto him. Obviously quite tired.
Finally, Kingsley could take it no longer, and asked the question. "That was an Aetherium Bombarda, wasn't it, Potter?"
Harry looked at him in surprise. "You know it?"
Kingsley nodded vigorously. "Auror Teams use them to break into heavily defended places. It was one of the tactics I had suggested to Dumbledore to getting into Durmstrang originally. Did you… how did you get the Death Eaters to do that to themselves?"
Harry had the grace to look embarrassed. "I didn't. I did that."
Kingsley gaped. "On your own?" Hestia merely looked confused.
Harry nodded.
Kingsley's mouth moved for a moment, then he blew out a heavy breath. "And then you took on fifty Death Eaters on your own? We saw Miss Granger rush out the doors before we Apparated in." Harry nodded again, and Kingsley merely stared at him, taking a moment to find his voice once more. "Well, I think you might be able to skip Auror training, Potter, if that's still what you want to do."
Harry shrugged. "I don't know right now. I've got plenty of time to make that decision, though, don't I?"
Kinsley nodded as finally Dumbledore, Tonks, Lupin, and McGonagall strolled up to the small group. Dumbledore smiled. "You had no trouble then, Harry?" he asked in his soft, confident voice.
Harry shook his head. "None at all, though I think I could sleep for a few days." He realized Hermione had been growing steadily heavier on his arm, and he was leaning in her direction now to support her. She was already asleep, apparently. "How long was I inside?" he asked as he lowered Hermione onto the ground, sitting with her head in his lap.
"Depending on how quickly they put you out after you arrived, roughly nine hours."
"So another couple of hours…"
"And we would have left, as per your instructions." Dumbledore laughed at the distraught expression which crossed Harry's tired face. "Not really. We would have come in after you. You had to have your chance, but there was no way we could allow Voldemort to return again." The twinkle vanished from his eye, then returned. "Neither of you are injured?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "Then I suggest you take Miss Granger home, Harry. We will finish up here. Get some sleep. I will stop in later and check on you both." A slight wave of his wand pulled a blue glowing branch to them. "I suggest you tightly hold Miss Granger's hand."
Harry did so, and then grabbed the branch Portkey firmly, and with a swirl of darkness, the early morning of Eastern Europe vanished to become a moment later the darkness of the wee hours in Britain.
It only took a moment to levitate Hermione onto the bed and to strip off his dirty, blood splattered robes, before he collapsed with exhaustion, his arm dropping across the soft warmth of the witch he loved.
Author's Note:
Chapter Title:
Causa finite est : The cause is finished.
Spells:
Aetherium Bombarda : Derived from 'Aether' (space) and bombardment
In hoc signo vinces: Transit umbra, lux permanent : In this sign, you will be victorious: Shadow passes, light remains.