Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists

Disclaimer: I can only hope to attain the creative brilliance of J. K Rowling.

AN: This story is AU after OOTP.

He Has Descended Into the Secrets of All Minds

Harry and Hermione exchanged alarmed looks, as the pounding on the door repeated itself. She looked somewhat helplessly down at the glowing crystal cupped in her hands. Throwing a frantic look over his shoulder, Harry moved toward the door and opened it, one sleeve over his mouth and nose, as he tried to stop the flow of blood.

It was Lord Gryffindor. And whatever he'd been about to say was halted at the sight of his guest's decidedly bloody clothing.

"Harry, what's happened? Has there been an accident?" He asked, taking Harry's shoulder, and looking into his eyes.

"I'm okay," Harry said, in a voice slightly muffled by his sleeve. "Is there something wrong?" His eyes flitted over to Hermione as he said this; she was standing near the window, with her hands behind her back.

Don't you think we should tell him? Harry asked her.

About his family's most prized possession that we somehow got out of the treasury, with no plausible explanation of how we did that? Hermione's tone was dry and sarcastic.

I'm his family. He'll trust me, Harry defended, but Hermione's shuttered expression told him without words or other communication that she did not believe that to be necessarily true.

"The wards in the castle were just triggered. The men are mustering at the front gate. I wanted to ascertain your safety for myself, considering Lord Slytherin's bias against you."

"Slytherin's attacking your home?" asked Harry, looking somewhat dumbfounded, glancing at Hermione, who seemed equally as bewildered. Did Slytherin ever attack Gryffindor openly? He threw at Hermione, even as Gryffindor replied verbally.

"We have not yet been able to discover that. In truth, I have not been informed what caused the alarm. I merely came to converse with you, and am now bound for the treasury to ensure that it has not been breached."

Harry literally felt all the color drain dramatically from his face, and he was sure that guilt was emblazoned across it where the color had been.

"Can it - can it be breached?" he asked, stammering a little, and trying to keep his voice calm and mostly disinterested. "It certainly looked secure enough earlier."

"The likelihood that any person has the magical ability to penetrate the wards on the treasury and abscond with any artifact is quite small. However, the fact remains that doing so would cause an alarm to be issued. It must be checked."

Can you put it back? Harry asked Hermione suddenly, sounding a little panicky.

I don't know how I got it out! Hermione responded, just as shrilly. What happened to telling him?

I - I don't - Harry was torn between defending the point of view he'd held earlier and ditching it completely. He looked up at Hermione and saw that she'd closed her eyes in concentration, but opened them again almost immediately. Her hands were still behind her back. She shook her head slowly at him, and Harry did not need telepathy to tell that it hadn't worked.

Gryffindor had bowed his farewell to both of them, and was nearly to the door, when Harry blurted suddenly,

"Could this have triggered the alarm?"

Show it to him, he told Hermione, nodding at her. She withdrew her hands from behind her skirts, and held out the Claviomnis.

Something in Gryffindor's face twitched slightly, and his heavy eyebrows drew together to hood his eyes.

"Pray, how did you come by this? In what sort of Dark sleight of hand did you engage to retrieve this from my treasury? Are you in league with Lord Slytherin?"

"No!" Harry and Hermione cried almost in unison. Gryffindor stood motionless, his arms crossed over his muscled chest, clearly saying Prove it, without words.

"We were using the Dream Beacon, trying to communicate with some of our friends in our time, and - and it just appeared in my hands." Hermione spread her hands wide in an appealing gesture.

Yeah, he's going to believe that, Harry snorted. I almost don't believe it, and I was here the whole time!

You're not helping, Harry, Hermione said in her panicky voice of dismissal.

"You took it?" Gryffindor said, almost as if he didn't understand. Harry braced himself for a hex or banishment to the lowest dungeons.

"Please," Hermione said evenly, trying to calm down. "You can look into my mind, if you want. And you'll see that it's the truth."

"My skills do not equal Slytherin's," Gryffindor said, almost apologetically, before looking intently into Hermione's eyes. Harry felt the alien presence in her mind almost as soon as she did, but strove to keep his mind still and unobtrusive.

After a moment, Gryffindor's eyes cleared, and he appeared satisfied.

"I believe you," he said heavily. "But you can see why I must take such care in these times of treachery."

"Of course," Harry murmured absently, thinking of the particular `times of treachery' in which they lived. He checked his nose to find that it had finally stopped bleeding, but his sleeves were rusty and sodden.

"I apologize for my intrusion," Gryffindor said, half-bowing toward them. "I must go and tell my men to stand down, for surely it is this that has caused the stir in the protections." He held out his hand for the Claviomnis, and looked alternately startled and amused when Hermione hesitated.

"Lord Gryffindor, sir," she began a little shakily.

Hermione, don't! Harry said, with a warning tone.

"The - the Claviomnis - it - Harry and I have great need of a magical device that wields that kind of power. Might we not borrow it?" Her voice quavered slightly, and she swallowed as she stopped speaking abruptly.

"Borrow it to what end?" Gryffindor asked blandly. Hermione's eyes were flickering nervously toward Harry.

How much can we tell him? She asked.

This is your show. I told you not to do it, Harry said in a disapproving voice.

"Harry has been destined to defeat a Dark wizard," she blurted, almost all in one breath. Lord Gryffindor's eyes went slowly from her to Harry.

"Harry is a quite powerful wizard. I felt the intensity of it when first he stepped into my keep. I do not think he would need a magical device to aid him. You two, forgive me, are also quite young. I would be remiss if I were to entrust something to you that could so easily fall into hands that would use it ill."

"You don't understand - " Harry began, almost laughing at the thought of Voldemort being lumped in with any old run of the mill Death Eater.

"Then, pray, enlighten me," Gryffindor interrupted, the amusement gone from his face and his tone almost sharp. Harry opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

"I - I can't," he said. "I'm sorry. It puts the entire future of the Wizarding World at risk."

If you were to tell him that the most powerful Dark wizard ever known was descended from Slytherin, who knows what he would do? Hermione said, looking at him with approval. Harry did not appear terribly happy with his decision.

I hold Slytherin's fate in my hands, and he is still going to live long enough to continue his line.

Harry, he could already have children! Hermione reprimanded him. Gryffindor does. Would you kill them too? Harry looked at her, and sighed. Of course he'd not be able to be responsible for the deaths of children - or the children of those children, for where did it end?

Blood feud, he thought dismally.

You're doing the right thing, Hermione told him, although the glumness that still permeated her mind revealed that he didn't really believe her.

"I believe that you are descended truly from my line, and I do not question the miracle which revealed to me that magic in my family will not forever vanish. But I cannot in good conscience give you the Claviomnis. It is too powerful, too dangerous. In fact, it has been present at Gryphon Keep for much too long." Gryffindor's face was grim, and he bowed perfunctorily at them again. "I will take my leave, and travel at once to Normandy. I should be back by break of day."

The look on his face did not encourage any opposition. Harry and Hermione both remained silent, as the Founder exited the room.

"Why couldn't he - ?" Harry began, but Hermione was ready for his questions, practicality always reigning supreme.

"The Claviomnis is powerful, Harry. It built Hogwarts! We don't know what it's capable of - I don't think even Gryffindor knows. What if we couldn't control it? What if Voldemort took it from us?"

"He couldn't use it. It can't be used without harmony of purpose. That's how the Founders were able to create the school." Harry protested, feeling out of sorts and nervous. Hermione had seemed convinced that the Claviomnis was their key home, their reason `why', and she generally seemed to come out on the correct end of these things.

"People can have harmony of evil purpose, Harry," Hermione reminded him gently, and Harry supposed that she was right again. Voldemort could surely find enough pure-blooded Death Eaters to control the Claviomnis. Even though he couldn't use it himself, he thought, unable to suppress a smirk at the tainted bloodline that probably continually caused Voldemort vexation.

"I thought this was it," he said quietly, looking at her, where she stood by the window, frosted in the silver moonlight. "I wasn't sure about your methods, but I thought the Claviomnis…maybe you were right - it did disappear around now, and -"

"No, you must have been right," Hermione argued. "He's taken it to Normandy. And somehow it - it - is never seen again." Harry appeared lost in thought for a moment, but he suddenly looked up at her, eyes blazing, and said,

"Come on!" She looked at him in bewilderment. "He's got to get past the Anti-Apparation wards before he can leave. We can catch him. Let's tell him the story. He doesn't have to know that Voldemort is of Slytherin's line."

"Harry - " Hermione sounded unsure.

"I really think you're right. The Claviomnis is our reason for being here. We've got to make Gryffindor see that." Hermione looked doubtful, but having no other viable options, she followed Harry from the room.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Ron emerged from the Great Hall of Avalon, shaking his head, and looking around in a manner of confusion, as if he had emerged someplace he hadn't expected. As he turned to go in search of Ginny and Luna in the upstairs portion of the house, he nearly collided with Draco Malfoy, who had entered the house from the front.

"Watch where you're going, Weasley!" Draco snapped, brushing at his clothes as if Ron had somehow soiled them. He took in Ron's dazed expression, and said, a little less rudely. "What the hell is wrong with you? Other than the obvious, of course."

"That thing - I saw - " Ron stammered, clearly trying to force the pictures in his head into some kind of coherence. Malfoy's eyes suddenly flickered with added alertness.

"You're not going to do anything girly like faint, are you, Weasley?" he said with distaste. That jab roused Ron enough for him to respond in kind.

"'Least I'm not screaming like I've had my nether parts injured. If you even have any."

"What did you see?"

"Why should I tell you?" Ron's face held a look of wounded belligerence.

"Then, let's find Lovegood and your sister, and you can tell them," Malfoy said, after debating whether or not to engage in a verbal duel with Potter's lanky best mate. He gave Ron a rather rough shove toward the stairs, and Ron glowered at him before trudging toward the library.

Green grass tufted around the large, smooth stones of a ruined castle.

Ron shuddered, and put one hand to his forehead. The images that the Oracle had shown him were incongruous and disconnected, seemingly random. He had been trying to form them into some kind of whole, and could not.

"Weasley, will you walk please, if you've not forgotten how?" came Malfoy's acid voice from behind him. Ron could not find the energy or desire to respond, and finished climbing the flight of stairs.

"Ron, what's wrong?" came Ginny's alarmed voice, as the two boys entered the library. "What have you done to him?" This accusation was leveled at Malfoy.

"You wound me, Weasley," Malfoy snapped, placing a hand to his heart sarcastically. "And after our tête à tête outside and everything." Ginny glared at him, her jaw jutting out angrily, and Luna watched the scene with interest. "It's not what I've done to your wooden-headed brother, but what the Oracle's done - " His admission was cut off by a gasp from Ginny, who came closer to her brother, remembering Draco's testimony about his vision. She laid her hand lightly on his arm.

"Ron, what did you see?" she asked him gently. Ron took a deep breath, appearing more confused than shaken.

"I - " he stammered, clearly at a loss.

A man dressed in scarlet closed a small box.

Luna tripped over one of the paving-stones in the ruins. Her head was bleeding.

"There was a … castle," he said, grasping for anything, and speaking with difficulty. "You fell, you were bleeding…" he looked at Luna, who was regarding him with a kind of subdued intensity, her eyes like glowing coal embers.

"Was it Avalon?" Ginny pressed. "Is Luna in danger?"

There was a brief glimpse of Harry. Four people stood in a circle.

"Harry - " He raised his hands in frustration, which burst forth from his mouth in a rush of words. "It's like trying to catch hold of mist. I - it was like a dream. It didn't make any sense at all. Harry was there. And there was white light, and - and a castle. But it was all - all ruins. And - and - "

Luna's eyes were shining.

"You were seeing the future."

"Figures that Weasley gets a true read on the future, not just some `well, this might happen' nonsense, and the git doesn't even have the brains to tell us what is going on," Malfoy snapped.

"Mindy!" Ron blurted suddenly, and the silence that fell was nearly comical.

"Who?" Ginny asked, one eyebrow raised, and Ron colored a little.

"I don't know. I kept hearing that name, over and over again - Mindy - I think it was Hermione."

"You think Mindy is some kind of kinky nickname of Granger's?" Malfoy was not even trying to hide his laughter. "Is this from some personal experience?" Ron flushed painfully again.

"It was Hermione's voice saying the name, you great sod!" Ron said, annoyed beyond words.

"Maybe that means they're coming back," Ginny said hopefully, looking to Luna for validation. The blonde's blue eyes were as enigmatic as ever, and they subsided into an uneasy silence. "Well, I - " Ginny began again, a little awkwardly, shoving her hands into her back pockets.

She was cut off by an exclamation from Ron, who knocked an open book off of the library table, with one flailing arm. He scrambled for the book, which had fallen pages down and been knocked beneath the table, and stood up with it cradled in his arms, smoothing the bent and wrinkled leaves.

"Weasley, what the hell?" Malfoy said, his expression clearly thankful that his vision, though bothersome and frightening, had not made him completely mental.

"This!" He said, pointed at an engraving in the book. "I saw this!" Malfoy leaned around Ron's arm with poorly concealed interest.

"It's a box," Malfoy said flatly, and lifted the book to examine the front cover. It was the tome about Godric Gryffindor, the first one Harry had pulled from the shelves and handed to Ron.

"I saw this box. A man in red had it - he was - he was closing the lid." Ron said, with some elation.

"He was closing a box?" Malfoy returned, deadpan. Luna and Ginny had taken the book from Ron, and were reading the caption that went along with the picture.

"Not any box, that box," Ron said stubbornly. Malfoy put his fingertips to his temples, as if he had a headache.

"Merlin save us," he muttered.

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Harry and Hermione clattered out a side door, finding themselves rather abruptly on the lawn, Harry all but dragging Hermione behind him. There was no one in sight.

"I told you we should have gone out the front gate," Hermione said dryly.

"Gryffindor said there were men stationed at the gate. What if they hadn't let us out? It was easier to Stun that one guard by the side door."

"Except here, there's no Lord Gryffindor," Hermione said, as if she were pointing out a patently obvious fact to a very small, rather slow child. Harry shot her an annoyed look.

"There's only one way he would have gone - toward the bridge," Harry said, pointing in direction from which they had first arrived.

"We don't even know how far the wards extend," she protested, as they hurried toward the front corner of the castle. "He could already be gone."

They peered around an outcropping of stone, and Harry smiled triumphantly at her. "But he's not," he said, and Hermione followed his gaze, to see Lord Gryffindor striding through the front gate at that very moment, headed for the bridge. Hermione could just barely make out motion on the bridge, a glint of moonlight on armor.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and Hermione could feel his presence stretching out.

"The wards stop at the river," he said, opening his eyes. Hermione stared at him wide-eyed, the question clear in her gaze, how? "I can feel them." He cocked his head for a moment, as if assessing the ability. "That's new," he added, laconically.

"When he crosses the bridge, he'll be gone," Hermione supplied the bottom line.

"Look," Harry said, suddenly, pointing to a place where the river looped round, a silver-white ribbon in the moonlight, much closer to them than to the bridge toward which Gryffindor was making. "If we can get across the river before he does…"

"Harry!" Hermione said with a long-suffering tone. "I - "

"Come on…it's summer! That river is tiny. How deep could it be?"

"Haven't you had enough underwater escapades to last you your lifetime, since the Second Task?" Hermione asked, even as they began sprinting toward the river, a small orchard between them and their goal providing them with some cover.

They slid down the pebbly banks of the river before Gryffindor had covered even half of the distance. The rocks seemed to rattle very loudly in the stillness. They could just barely hear the murmur of the soldiers on the bridge, their voices being carried on the slight breeze.

"Come on," Harry said, tugging at Hermione's hand, as she hesitated on the bank. He put one foot into the water, where it lapped about halfway up his shin. He winced at the temperature.

"Consolido!" Hermione said suddenly, pointing her wand at the surface of the water, where it shimmered slightly and seemed to fog over. She stepped over a small area near the shore that had remained liquid, and walked lightly and gracefully on the surface of the water to the other side. She was unable to keep the gleeful smile from her face, as Harry followed her.

"You couldn't have done that before I stuck my foot in it?" he asked her petulantly, and she laughed softly.

The far bank was steeper, and both Hermione and Harry had to use their hands to clamber up, clutching at rough stones protruding from the dirt as hand- and footholds. Harry climbed up, giving Hermione a hand, and then turned toward the bridge.

He could hear the murmur of voices again. Someone was emerging from their end of the bridge, still many meters away. Even as Harry made the conscious decision to Apparate to Gryffindor's side, and had communicated it to Hermione, there was a loud crack that seemed to resound off of the surrounding hills.

Lord Gryffindor had Disapparated.

Harry and Hermione stood there, motionless, hand in hand, near the riverbank, both of them unsure of what to do next.

"So," Harry said, "do we Apparate to -?" He turned to Hermione who was a little behind him, and stopped abruptly halfway through the motion, as he was now staring down the long, metallic shaft of a sword.

It was Salazar Slytherin, and he had his staff in his other hand. His teeth glinted in the moonlight, as he smiled mirthlessly at them. There were several men behind him, all dressed in dark cloaks, clearly making effort to go unseen.

"Well, well," Slytherin said smoothly, not removing his sword from its proximity to Harry's breastbone. "Lord Potter and his new wife venturing out for a rendezvous?" Harry met his leering comment with silence and a level, defiant gaze. "It is ill-advised to go beyond the boundaries of the keep after nightfall. Who can foretell what manner of untrustworthy brigands might be about?" His lips jerked upward in a tight-lipped smile, and one of the cloaked men behind him snickered.

Hermione, we've got to get out of here. Apparate to the bridge. Surely the knights there would help us fight. He could feel her doubts, her fears that they had unwittingly begun a war between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but she did not heed them.

All right, she answered back simply.

When they tried to Apparate, they were knocked to the ground by the repercussive shockwave. Slytherin and his men were laughing, as Harry got back to his feet, and helped Hermione up.

"I always find it beneficial to prepare myself for all eventualities. Especially when dealing with those of whose loyalties I am not certain." He looked not at Harry, but at Hermione, who lifted her chin, but remained quiet.

"You don't need to question the lady's loyalties," Harry remarked calmly, drawing Slytherin's full attention for the first time.

And yours? Do I need to question yours? The voice rang suddenly in his mind, reverberating in his skull so loudly that he had to bite back a cry, bringing his hands up to the sides of his head.

Harry? He could hear Hermione's frantic voice in his head as well, and the sensation of it abated some of the pain.

Does your Lord Gryffindor know you been conspiring against him using covert magical powers? came Slytherin's voice again. Harry felt as if he were drowning; his scar throbbed, and Slytherin's voice pulsed painfully inside his head.

Not… conspiring… Harry ground out, struggling to remain conscious. Slytherin thrust the staff he carried under Harry's chin, and forced his head up, so Salazar could look him straight in the face. Harry was on the verge of collapse, and grunted with pain and effort, as the cloaked men dragged them further downriver, away from the bridge, to the secretive darkness of a copse of trees.

Once they were under the cover of the trees, Slytherin lit the tip of his staff, and shone it near Harry's face.

"Lilliane's eyes," he commented clearly, a myriad of disparate emotions parading across his normally guarded face. "So it is true."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione cried out, quite forgetting herself, wrapping her arms around Harry, and trying to help him stand.

Harry, are you okay? What happened? Harry's eyes rolled up whitely in his head, as he tried to look at her.

Can you hear him? He's so loud. My scar…

It doesn't hurt me, Hermione admitted quietly, but any further comment was forestalled by the foreign, unwelcome presence of Slytherin in his (their?) mind.

Yes, your scar. It is curious. I have never seen its equal, Slytherin said in a soft voice of fascination, or at least, so it seemed to Hermione. Harry cried out loudly, and slumped to the ground, his dead weight too much for Hermione to hold up.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a distressed voice, kneeling beside him. He roused again, and struggled to communicate. "Can't you see you're hurting him?"

"Did it concern either of you so much when you invaded the recesses of my mind?" Slytherin asked, his voice low and dangerous, with a petulant note in it.

"Is that what this is all about?" Harry rasped, finding and clutching desperately at the power of speech. Slytherin looked amused, and he sheathed his sword, draping his arms behind his back, as he prepared to pontificate.

"Initially yes, Lord Potter," he said, his smooth cultured tones betraying him only when he bit off the title. "I must admit that now, it is merely my curiosity that overwhelms me. Who are you? Gryffindor's line is dead. His living son is a Squib, his other son killed in battle. His only sister died long ago." The curious shadow passed across his face again.

"You were in love with her," Hermione observed in a wondering voice, and a spasm of emotion contorted Slytherin's already unlovely face.

"I imagined myself to be so, yes," he replied, mastering his feelings once again, evidently pushing anger to the forefront. "Love is for the weak."

But about you there is much I wish to know, came the unrelenting voice. Your scar? Why does my presence in your mind channel pain through that scar. Who gave that scar to you?

The abrupt question sent a stab of fear through Harry and Hermione that was so instinctive and unstoppable that they both knew Slytherin had felt it too. Harry tried desperately to close his mind, but even with Hermione's strength bolstering his, they were not fast enough.

Slytherin's intrusion into his mind was even more painful that the projection of his thoughts, and Harry arched his back, sending air hissing through his teeth reflexively. Slytherin sifted Harry's thoughts and memories like they were grains of sand sliding through his fingers. Harry was struggling to keep up, doing his best to send innocuous and irrelevant material to the forefront. The pain in his scar was livid and white-hot, and he felt his efforts grow feeble.

A faceless voice cried out, eerie and disembodied, "Not Harry! Not Harry!"

Draco Malfoy stuck his hand out to shake Harry's, clearly put off when Harry refused to return the favor.

A blue and white Ford Anglia landed in the branches of a writhing willow tree. There was a sound of splintering wood.

Sirius fell through the veil. Harry strove to push that thought away, but Slytherin sensed his hesitation and followed that line relentlessly. Sirius… Sirius fell through the veil. He was standing with Dumbledore in the main atrium of the Ministry. The wizarding statue serenely spouted water behind them. And then Voldemort was there.

There was a sudden commotion and Harry opened his eyes, drawing one hand across his pale, clammy brow. Two of the cloaked men were helping Slytherin up, and two others loomed menacingly over Harry.

Slytherin was no longer in his mind.

Did you… did you…? Harry asked. He could feel the soothing hum of Hermione's satisfaction buzzing in his mind. Thank you.

He stood to his feet, albeit in a wobbly fashion, and Hermione resumed standing next to him as well. Slytherin faced them down once again, calmly donning his veneer of civility and dignity again. He clasped one hand around his staff, almost casually, and examined the fingernails of his other hand with studied concentration.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she did not remove her gaze from him. Harry was gauging the wards.

Two meters, he said. The wards go out two meters. Do you think you can run? Get out from under the wards?

Where would I go? Gryphon Keep isn't going to be safe without Lord Gryffindor there, and we don't need to cause open warfare between two Founders. Besides, I'm not leaving you!

Go back to Avalon. Maybe the castle itself would help protect you.

I'm not leaving you! She repeated again, and her voice in his head sounded a little shaky. Harry looked at the two men standing so close that they were nearly touching him.

They're not watching you as closely. You could possibly get that far. They'd be on me before I could move a muscle or draw my wand.

Harry, I -

Agony. Unbelievable, soul-shredding, muscle-ripping agony. Harry felt as if someone had buried a cleaver in the middle of his head. And just like that his contact with Hermione was gone. Not repressed, not blocked, but gone.

When he had voluntarily blocked himself from her, during their training with Snape, it had felt odd, vaguely disquieting, unusual - like the socket of a missing tooth that one is accustomed to having there.

Now, it was as if he'd had a limb severed. Blackness floated around the edges of his vision. He felt as if consciousness was a cliff's edge, and he was hanging on by his fingertips. His mind flailed about frantically, looking for the presence that he had grown so used to.

Hermione? Hermione? He asked.

Low, malevolent laughter was his only answer, and the pain in his scar began to throb anew. Slytherin casually buffed his fingernails against the soft, dark green cloth of his cloak.

There is no need in either of you listening in on a private conversation, Slytherin said loftily.

Please, Harry pleaded, beyond pride, please, just let her go. Your quarrel is with me. I was the one entering your mind.

As you are the one destined to try and eradicate my heir? Slytherin asked calmly. Have you traversed a millennium to begin the feud with me? Harry was startled and badly frightened that Slytherin had somehow managed to glean that out of his mind.

I have no wish to kill you, Harry replied sullenly.

Your mind says otherwise, Lord Potter, Slytherin hissed, full of venom. The pain was becoming intolerable. They had started moving through the trees, and Harry stumbled, barely able to stay upright. I see I am causing you discomfort. Perhaps I should speak with your lovely wife - ah, but you are not actually married! How unutterably common of you.

Leave her alone! Harry gathered all of his effort, and used it to thrust Slytherin from his mind one more time, imagining the gigantic steel doors clanging shut decisively.

Then he heard a little voice, Harry? It whispered.

Hermione? He replied cautiously, half-afraid he'd be calling Slytherin's wrath back down on them both. He felt her wince as one of Salazar's knights pulled her along behind him roughly.

Is - is this what you did that day in training with Snape? Her mental presence was not as strong, her connection sounding forced, tinny, and far away.

I think so. What are we going to do?

He underestimates you, she said contemptuously. They haven't even tried to disarm us yet. He thinks we're no match for him.

Aren't we? He sounded fatigued. If we even take a couple of them out, the others will disarm us. We can't take on all of them. You shouldn't be here. Slytherin could break back into my mind any time now.

Did it hurt very much? She sounded apologetic. I'm awfully sorry.

It's okay, Hermione.

I was thinking… she began, talking slowly, as she was wont to do when she was thinking aloud. Harry could feel the strain in his mental shields growing. Slytherin was going to get through.

Hermione, he's coming. He stumbled again, and nearly fell, as the knight guarding him pulled him up with brute force. Out of the corner of his eye, from where she was flanked by a pair of knights, he saw her fall, landing heavily on her right side, apparently unconscious.

The labor to gain entry into his mind had ceased, as Slytherin's attentions were occupied with the fallen form of Hermione.

"What did you do to her?" Harry cried angrily, fighting against the restraining arms of his captor.

Harry, I'm okay, came the far away voice of Hermione's secret connection.

Thank Merlin! he breathed gratefully, relaxing for a moment, only to remember that he'd better keep up the ruse by continuing to struggle.

Here's what we do, she said clinically, and he marveled at her calm. In a moment, I'm going to rouse. While they're all occupied with me, you need to draw your wand. One of the knights said,

"She's fainted." Slytherin instructed him to pick her up, and the knight did so, slinging her over his shoulder carelessly. Harry didn't see how she was remaining so limp.

Hermione, we aren't going to be able -

Listen to me! Her voice was sharp. We need a Stunner. But don't fixate on it as a narrow beam aimed at one person. We need to make it a broad field spell, like a Protego shield…only not... She trailed off, at somewhat of a loss to explain herself clearly.

You mean one that will widen out like the Patronus charm, and get everybody at once? Harry asked. Can that even be done? The strain was growing again; Slytherin was trying to penetrate the walls blocking off Harry's mind.

Not normally, but these are not normal circumstances, and you are not a normal wizard. There was admiration in her tone. I'll add my magic to yours. It probably won't be a very strong Stunner, but it will at least buy some time.

Hey, won't it Stun us as well? The thought occurred to Harry rather suddenly, and he waited expectantly for Hermione to negate it. Instead she merely said in a worried tone,

I hope not. Before he could properly reply to this disheartening piece of information, he heard her groan and stir, struggling against the knight who was carrying her and nearly toppling him over. He muttered a curse at her, as the others laughed, and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.

Harry felt a hiss of pain in his mind.

Hermione, are you all right?

Now, Harry! He did not stop to question her, but whipped his wand from his pocket in one fluid motion. He could fill the surge of magical power coming up from the "tunnel" between Hermione's mind and his.

"Stupefy!" he called. Hermione ran to his side, as the knights - Slytherin included - -began to converge on Harry. A bright light that swelled quickly into a translucent membrane emanated from the end of Harry's wand. He pulled Hermione protectively behind him, and watched with amazement as the glowing field took out every last man.

"It worked!" Hermione said, leaning against Harry, and sounding a little more surprised than Harry would have been comfortable with. Harry dropped his wand to his side, feeling inexpressibly tired. That had been very draining magic, and the pain in his head from his encounters with Slytherin was still a dull, persistent ache.

"Get a sword," he said, disarming the soldier nearest to them. She did so, and neatly began tying the men up, with quick, precise flicks of her wand, as if she were conducting an orchestra. Slytherin was already beginning to stir.

"Come on!" she hissed, fluttering her hands frantically at Harry, who stopped a few paces away from the cluster of restrained knights, and turned back. He hesitated for only a moment, before returning to the scene of the fray and picking up Lord Slytherin's staff.

Hermione eyed him questioningly, but he could not give voice the reason that had compelled him to pick it up.

"Okay, now let's go," he said.

"Where?"

"Back to Avalon."

TBC

I hated to have it so much longer than my other chapters, but I figured if I put a cliff-hanger anywhere, people would start hunting me down. One more chapter ought to wrap this up - and it looks like there's going to be plenty of room for - dare I say it? - a sequel.

But this story has really tasked my patience, so I'm going to take a break from this `verse, and finish "Resistance" before beginning a sequel.

There was a lot of "mental" stuff in this chapter. I hope it wasn't too weird.

Cheers!

lorien

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