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.
A Silent Hidden Thought in the Folds of Oblivion
The small group stared at each other in horror, as they struggled to keep their feet on a cave floor that suddenly seemed to be afloat on an unseen sea. A couple of other outcroppings of rock bade farewell to the ceiling, and crashed on to the hard surface beneath, shattering and putting out copious amounts of dust and debris. The fine powder stung Hermione's eyes, and she heard Ron coughing.
"We could be in serious trouble here," Draco finally said off-handedly, still crouching protectively in front of Ginny.
"You think so?" Ron said sarcastically, wheezing slightly, but still managing to eye Malfoy with furtive suspicion.
"Damn," Hermione said tiredly, as most of their tunnel collapsed in on itself with the latest tremor. Harry and Draco looked at the destruction somewhat dispassionately. Hermione could feel Harry's mind whirling in furious tandem with hers, as they desperately tried to think of what to do next.
A crack began to thread its way across the floor, as sinuous and deadly as a viper. Others joined it, and the entire cavern began to pull apart, being rent in half by malevolent intent. Rock began to rain down on them in jagged chunks, larger now, and Ron let out a yelp as a sizeable piece hit his shoulder, rendering him unable to lift his left arm.
"If you're going to break out the incredible super-weapon, now would be the time, Potter," Malfoy called over the roar of protesting stone.
"It won't work," Harry said, looking glumly at the box that Hermione had retrieved from a small pile of rubble. "With Ginny out, we've only three purebloods. There are supposed to be four."
"At least," Ron posited, trying to sound hopeful, "Voldemort can't open the box. It looks like only you and Hermione can."
"You know what that means he'll do to them?" Malfoy asked him pointedly, and Ron's face grew grim, as he thought of the obvious and unpleasant implications.
"Maybe we should just…" Harry trailed off, as he stood to his feet with difficulty, swaying visibly. Hermione swallowed a protest, as he sidled closer to the rapidly widening chasm, the bottom of which was not visible, and peered in.
"I'm not willing to jump just yet," Malfoy protested.
"I was going to suggest that we chuck in the Claviomnis," Harry retorted, looking witheringly at the Slytherin.
"You don't think he'd send people after it? After he killed us all for making his life more difficult?" Malfoy raised one skeptical eyebrow.
The cave was really coming apart now, and Malfoy just managed to spring across the gap to join the others, with Ginny tossed over one shoulder. Now, at least, there was a deep rift between themselves and the cave entrance, although spellfire, unfortunately, would still be able to cross with no problems. Harry looked anxiously across to the still empty opening into the tunnel. It was not a comforting thought. The rattle of raining rock began to slow, and they exchanged worried glances.
"They'll be coming soon," Ron and Malfoy said in unison, then looking mildly disgusted with themselves for doing so. Harry felt his mind spinning as uselessly as tires in mud. His eyes flitted around the disintegrating walls, the chipping, uneven ceiling, and the sides of the deep chasm, descending into a shroud of shadow.
Then he thought he saw it. A sudden hope flared so suddenly within him that Hermione turned to look at him sharply.
"Look there! Do you see it? A darker outline…" he pointed down the chasm. Hermione followed his finger, squinting her eyes slightly, aided by the picture in his mind, and her face cleared, her eyes lighting, as she saw to what he was referring.
"I do see it. But what - ?"
"I need a rope. Can someone transfigure me a rope?" Harry was saying quickly. He could see the movement of shadows and the low rippling murmur of voices. They were coming.
Almost before he'd finished his question, Luna had deftly removed a shoelace, using her wand, and transfigured it into a stout line of rope. Harry used a Sticking charm, and lowered himself over the side of the gaping hole in the cave floor. His face was the color of chalk, and beads of perspiration broke out on his upper lip.
"What about Ginny?" he asked perfunctorily.
"I've got her," Malfoy returned, meeting his gaze squarely. Ron looked back and forth between them, affronted, but knew that his arm would prevent him from carrying his little sister. He finally settled for a warning in the form of,
"If you drop her, I'll kill you." Something almost human flickered briefly in Malfoy's eyes, but he said only,
"If I drop her, I'll let you." He waved his wand at Ginny, evidently doing something to secure her to him, and was second down the rope behind Harry. Ron followed, lurching unsteadily onto the rope, favoring his arm, and causing Luna and Hermione to gasp in alarm.
"Ronald, do be careful. Durin's Bane has been known to inhabit the deeper places of the earth," Luna warned limpidly, following him down the slender length of rope, as blithely as if she did it every day.
"You read Tolkien?" Hermione blurted, unable to stave off her curiosity, even in their dire situation. Aided by Harry's magic, she threw a Protego toward the mouth of the cave, hoping that it would at least delay their pursuers a little.
Luna blinked up at her curiously.
"Who?" she asked, and Hermione decided to drop the subject. They descended slowly, in a halting and uncertain manner, and Hermione was sure that if they'd been doing this the purely Muggle way, all six of them would have fallen, especially Draco with his added burden of an unconscious Ginny, and Ron, who was trying to climb down on one good arm.
The rope flailed slightly, signaling that Harry had let go, and then pulled taut, as he held it, bracing himself inside the small corridor he had spied. Malfoy soon appeared, outlined against the lighter shadows of the chasm, and he handed Harry Ginny as he gingerly released the rope, finding himself on solid ground once more.
Ron teetered precariously at the lip of the new tunnel, and Malfoy had to catch him by one elbow. As luck would have it, it was the injured limb, and Ron hissed several impolite words under his breath, less happy about having Malfoy save him from a plummeting death than anything else.
The three boys waited tensely just inside the opening. Distantly above their heads, they could hear muffled shouts, and he willed them to go faster.
We're almost there, Harry, he heard Hermione's voice in his head. She sounded a little panicked, and he imagined that the noises sounded closer and louder, and therefore more frightening to her. He shouldn't have let her go last.
Don't be ridiculous, she sniffed. We're the most powerful, so one of us should have gone last. And you're the most valuable - Harry snorted mentally - well, you are! - so you needed to be secured first.
I was feeling a bit off on the way down, Harry admitted, I figured that if I fell, at least I wouldn't have knocked anyone else down with me. He could feel Hermione's irate worry at his off-hand comment.
Luna's ankles and slender legs soon dangled down, and within a moment, she had swung inside the corridor, landing as lightly as a trapeze artist or a ballet dancer. Ron watched her with some amazement, wondering how he had not noticed how lightly and gracefully she walked; it was elfin, the movement of faeries, and he had no doubt in his mind that she was descended from Nimue.
Harry could not help the flood of relief that swamped him, when the dim outline of Hermione appeared in the opening, swaying slightly from the serpentine rope.
They've just gotten in, she informed him breathlessly, landing unevenly and collapsing into his arms.
The rope! Harry said. From the circle of his arms, she aimed her wand at the rope and muttered an incantation. It released from its Sticking charm at the top of the chasm, and began to fall. Ron was standing closest to the opening, and he reached out and grabbed it, jerking it within the shadow of the overhang.
"Thank you for retrieving my shoelace, Ronald," Luna told him ethereally. Ron tipped a smile at her, and they all fell silent as the voices were louder.
It won't be long before they suss out where we went, Harry said, unnecessarily. We should go.
They hurtled, in an ungainly mass of arms and legs, led by the dimmest of lights from the tip of Harry's wand, unwilling to risk further light until they had turned a sharp angle in the corridor and the entrance was out of sight. When they had done so, Harry leaned against a wall, slightly bent, hands braced just above his knees, breathing heavily.
Harry… Hermione began tentatively.
I'm fine, he replied, before she had a chance to say anything more. There was near total silence, as the group listened intently for sounds of pursuit.
They heard nothing.
"I think we can risk a little more light," Hermione said, addressing everyone, though her eyes still cut concernedly over to Harry. "We should still move quickly though." She flicked her wand with a short, impatient snap of her wrist. "Lumos!"
They couldn't help but gape at the corridor in which they found themselves. It was not a rough, meandering, naturally carved tunnel, like the one which had led to the cave. The walls and floors were too squared to be natural, the passage ran straight as an arrow, and there were intermittent nooks in the wall, like stone shelves, that Hermione could only assume were for clay lamps or torches.
"Where the hell are we?" Malfoy murmured, having retrieved Ginny from Harry, and appearing no worse the wear for it.
"No bloody idea," Harry replied, gazing round at the signs of civilization. "But it's better than where we were."
They moved again, continuing to see bits of humanity, scattered coins, occasional shards of pottery. Once, they passed a dark chamber to one side, the air from which was cooler and had a faint odor of plastic. Malfoy paused.
"There used to be a Cooling charm cast on this room," he remarked.
"How do you know?" Ron asked quizzically, almost not sounding derisive.
"Can smell it," the Slytherin replied laconically.
"We're in someone's cellar," Hermione hypothesized, as they continued to move, passing sporadic openings in the main passageway, all leading to small rooms of indiscriminate purpose, though one's numerous carved crannies seemed to suggest a history of wine storage.
There was still no sound of pursuit, as they came to a parting of ways, where the corridor split off to the right and left, with a crooked flight of flagstone stairs straight ahead.
"I guess we need to go up," Ron said, as they stopped at the junction. Hermione held up one hand.
"Wait! Look," she pointed to the right, and they could dimly see another flight of stairs at the end of the hallway.
"How do we know which ones?" Ron wondered. Luna wandered briefly in each direction, her head cocked, as if
listening intently to something nobody else could hear. Finally, she turned back to the group, and said,
"This way," indicating the staircase to the right. "The air smells cleaner this way. And there have definitely been Fire-Breathing Cave Newts nesting that way," she swung her arm to the left. "We do not want to run into those. They like to nest in hair."
"Toss `em Granger then. That should house the lot," Malfoy snickered, and Harry's hand moved reflexively on his wand.
Don't rise to the bait, Harry, Hermione reminded him calmly, though he could see the flush staining her cheeks, even in the wandlight.
They started toward the far staircase, led this time by Ron, who had turned toward the indicated corridor almost immediately upon Luna's recommendation, a fact that Harry found both amusing and revealing.
The staircase was crooked and uneven, but unmistakably fashioned by human hands - or wands. Each stair had a shallow bowl shape in the center, worn down by centuries of human feet.
We've got to be at the ancestral home of Lord Gryffindor, Hermione said. It had to be nearby, if I was able to call the Claviomnis, and who else would have Cooling charms in the cellar?
You're probably right, Harry answered, but his voice was grim. But that also means that Voldemort probably knows where this comes out. He's likely already been here looking for the Claviomnis.
The flight of stairs ended in another corridor, this one more liberally paved with stone. It wound upward to two other staircases, leading in opposite directions, and Luna again pointed the way. At the top of that staircase, they paused.
The air had changed subtly, and all of them could tell, though they would have been hard-pressed to describe exactly what they found different. The ratio of light and shadow also appeared slightly altered. Harry met Hermione's hesitant gaze.
We're almost to the top, she guessed, and he nodded. Malfoy cursed suddenly, as Ginny moaned and shifted on his shoulder, throwing him off-balance. Gently, he lowered her to the floor, propping her against the wall, and leaving his arm around hers for support. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, and he brushed away strands of hair clinging to one cheek.
"You all right, Weasley?" he asked, almost solicitously. Ron's eyes were like skewers.
"Feels like a Bludger…bouncing around in my skull," she said thickly. "What happened?"
"Death Eater Special," Ron muttered darkly, still glaring at the Slytherin, and kneeling down next to Ginny. "Can you cast anything?" Ginny looked at him without comprehension, her brow rumpling quizzically, but she attempted a Lumos charm. Weak light sputtered from the end of her wand, before disappearing altogether.
"Evidently not well," she answered tiredly. "Are they behind us?"
"Actually," Harry said, clearing his throat awkwardly, "we think they're in front of us."
"And you were planning on telling us this when, exactly?" Malfoy queried, his eyebrows soaring.
"We're obviously in the ruins of Godric Gryffindor's Norman castle," Hermione spoke quietly. "You don't think Voldemort's already scoured this place looking for the Claviomnis? He's probably cut off our access to the cave, and is just waiting for us to emerge at one end or the other."
"We're going to have to use it," Harry blurted suddenly, surprising even Hermione, as the thought bloomed rapidly in his mind.
"Harry, I don't think - " Hermione began, but he interrupted her.
"You said it earlier - the Power He Knows Not. What if this is it? The Claviomnis may be our only way of getting out of here alive. I'm pretty sure that all of us - " His gaze raked over all of them, and came to rest on Malfoy. " - could muster up enough harmony of purpose to destroy Voldemort."
"If we need four purebloods, and Ginny can't - " Hermione said, but was this time cut off by Ginny.
"What about Harry? If he's the Heir of Gryffindor, surely his blood can't get much purer than that." Harry and Hermione exchanged wondering glances; neither of them had thought of this, but almost immediately, Harry was shaking his head.
"No," he said, "even if - if I could, I think - I think I'm going to be needed elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?" Ron sounded incredulous. Harry looked at Hermione again, wordlessly transmitting his thoughts to Hermione and watching her slowly nod, wide-eyed but determined.
"While the four of you activate the Claviomnis, Hermione and I will draw their fire."
"Like hell you will!" Ron burst out. "The two of you are going to take on Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"
"Ron, with this - this bond we have…" Hermione said haltingly, but Harry said,
"It's not up for debate, Ron, and there's no time to - " Malfoy threw up one hand with a warning hiss, and they all fell silent. There was indistinct noise somewhere ahead of and above them.
"Should we stay down here?" Malfoy asked, "With the -" he gestured toward the wooden box housing the artifact.
"We're not sure what it's going to do," Hermione whispered back. "It might be safer if you were out in the open, rather than in a subterranean passageway that could fall in on you."
"Out in the open where people will be trying to kill us," the Slytherin pointed out acerbically, but he appeared to agree with Hermione's assessment. "Are you sure you two can - "
"We can read each other's thoughts and magnify each other's magic," Hermione informed him bluntly. "I think we have a good chance."
"Are we going to be able to count on you, Malfoy?" Ron asked roughly.
"Have you forgotten what house I'm in, Weasel?" Draco smirked, enjoying pushing Ron's buttons because he could, despite the situation. Ginny made an involuntary noise in the back of her throat, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other again, as everyone's attention was drawn to the redhead sitting against the wall.
Do you think we could - Harry wondered.
I think we should try, she replied, and by common consent, they knelt before Ginny, each placing a hand on her arm. Moving in perfect synchrony, their eyes slid shut, their mouths moved, but no sound was heard. Ginny stiffened, and her eyes shot open in alarm or shock.
"What are you doing?" she dimly heard Ron, but couldn't fasten onto his voice because of the warmth that was pouring into her, diffusing out of her. She felt as if she were alight from within, pure light streaming from her fingers and her hair, painlessly surging, life thrumming through her with such force and intensity that she could feel the power of it. It was thrilling, frightening, bewildering, like hanging from the edge of a precipice, but somehow knowing you weren't going to fall.
When her vision focused again, once more aware of her surroundings, she saw two pairs of concerned eyes fixed on hers.
"Merlin's Beard," she heard herself say, "what was that?"
"That was - that was us," Harry said lamely, for lack of a better explanation, looking apologetically at Hermione, who rolled her eyes at the inadequate description.
"You should be able to cast now," Hermione added helpfully, patting the other girl's arm, as she put her hand in Harry's. He lifted her easily to her feet, and they both pretended not to see Malfoy giving Ginny a hand up as well.
They repeated the maneuver they'd conducted in the cave to open the box, and handed it gravely to Luna.
"You know what to say?" Harry asked the Ravenclaw seriously. She looked at them, her blue eyes as somber as they'd ever seen.
"I've always known," she replied cryptically, and together, the six of them made their way toward the surface of the earth, where death surely waited watchfully.
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They clambered over rubble to emerge from a half-buried doorway set into the side of a hill. A quick Freezing charm by Hermione fixed the scattered debris in place, so that the Death Eaters wouldn't be alerted by the scuffing sound of skittering stones. With unspoken consent, all of them crouched in defensive postures, wands ready, eyes searching for those who would do them harm.
They saw no one.
Carefully, Harry moved beside the low opening that they had just vacated, and peered over the crest of the hill. A large moon clearly defined the Death Eaters, who were strewn about the top of the hill, most of them appearing near a set of large, half-toppled columns. They seemed to be waiting for something. Moving slowly and silently, Harry rejoined the others.
They're waiting for us at the top of the hill, Harry informed Hermione. I think they're waiting for us by a main entrance, maybe where that other staircase came out - thank Merlin for Luna. And they've set up Anti-Apparation wards - so it wouldn't matter even if we could all Apparate.
Hermione turned away from him, looking down the sloping shoulder of the hill, searching for a place with enough cover that they could allow the Claviomnis to do its work. And then she saw it.
Jerking her head up, she turned to see that Harry was whispering intently to Luna, obviously relating to them what he had just told her. She hurried to his side.
"There," she whispered to them, pointing a short distance down the hillside, where a spur of land jutting forward to join it, creating a small, sheltered green bowl that would be hidden from all eyes, unless one happened to be looking straight down from the top. She saw the grim looks in their eyes, as they followed the meandering line of the hill and realized the same thing. Her gaze collided with Harry's meaningfully.
It would be their job to make sure that didn't happen.
Quickly, Harry and Hermione joined hands, palms up, interlacing their fingers like a woven basket, and cupping the box therein. The click of the latch unfastening sounded to them like the report of a rifle. The wind carried voices to them from the summit, but the words were tossed together, indistinguishable.
Harry nodded to the other four, while Luna hastily attempted a healing charm on Ron's injured arm. Go, Hermione saw him mouth. As they began to pick their way the short distance down the slope, Harry grabbed Ron's elbow, and whispered something intently in his ear.
Harmony of purpose, Ron, don't forget, she could feel him saying, though she was hearing his voice within her head, rather than via her ears. It won't work if there's no unity. Ron nodded seriously, and then turned, moving downward, lithe and quiet, his hair a dash of color in the gray tones of the landscape that slowly faded with distance.
Hermione faced the top of the hill, looming above her in stark relief with the sky. As she took a step, she felt Harry catch her arm, and she looked at him curiously. He inclined his head in the direction of the doorway, almost rendered impassable with debris.
What are we going to do? She asked him, her brow furrowing quizzically.
We're going to exit where they think we're going to exit. And she understood. If they were seen at this point, if the battle was joined on this side of the hill, then the discovery of the other four would be almost inevitable.
How long is it going to take for them to activate the Claviomnis? Harry's responding sigh was grim and fatigued.
I have no idea.
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The four purebloods were nearly to the small pastoral clearing that Hermione had indicated. Ron noticed that there were flat white stones arranged in some kind of pattern, the darker grass tufting between them. He wondered if it was a path, or perhaps the remnants of a foundation of some kind of outbuilding.
"It was a chapel," Luna said quietly, as if he'd spoken aloud, and he visibly started.
"How - how do you know?" he stammered, trying to speak nonchalantly.
"See the cross shape? It was built years after the Gryffindors left Normandy, but this place was a place of worship, even before they built the chapel here." She pierced Ron with a searching blue gaze. "I was here once… long ago." The hair on the back of Ron's neck stood on end, and he felt as if ghostly fingertips had just tripped up the length of his spine. Luna seemed at once both young and old, whimsical and terribly wise. Ron felt like a sodding, shallow git, awkward, lanky, and stupid, completely unaware of the large, interrelated, and complex world of space and time in which he resided. He felt himself shrinking under her gaze.
And then the feeling vanished completely, as the toe of Luna's shoe caught between two of the stones, and she fell, with a surprised cry that she tried to bite back, curling the box bearing the Claviomnis in toward herself, but unable to keep from striking her head.
"Merlin's Beard, Luna!" Ron said in alarm, springing after her to help her to her feet. "Are you all right?" He lifted her gently, as she pressed her fingertips to her scalp and they came away red. "You're bleeding!"
"I'm all right," she said vaguely, seeming a little dazed.
A man in scarlet robes was closing a box…
Luna tripped on a paving stone and hit her head…
Four people stood in a circle…
Ron must have made some kind of noise, because Luna looked back at him with detached curiosity, her fingers playing over the surface of the magical stone, assuring herself that it was intact.
"What is it?" she asked.
"This!" he exclaimed, incoherently. "This is what I saw." A thin, enigmatic smile danced briefly across Luna's face.
"Good," she said. "That means - " she turned back towards the main body of the ruined chapel, but her movement was arrested by the point of a wand stuck in her face.
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The small square of night sky stood out starkly against the blackness of the passageway they traversed.
Are you ready? Hermione asked anxiously, squeezing Harry's hand in hers.
No, Harry said honestly. Haven't you heard the part of me screaming that I'm a bloody idiot and about to get myself killed?
I thought that was me, Hermione joked, and felt Harry's laughter at her gallows humor in her mind.
They're going to try and disarm us as soon as we're in sight, he said, more seriously now. We need a Protego charm up before we're even fully out of the passageway.
They'll detect it….
Can't be helped.
They were closer to the entryway now. They pressed against the wall, as the dark shadow of a Death Eater crossed in front of the opening, momentarily blocking the nearly negligible light. Hermione could feel his eyes graze her face lightly, even in the shrouding darkness. The touch of his mind to hers was like a caress, a kiss.
Ready? A slow nod. She closed her eyes and pushed outward, feeling her magic mesh with his. She could feel his wand in her fingers; he could feel her heart hammering in his chest.
Now!
The resultant outswelling of the Protego charm blew the sentry out from in front of the ancient doorway.
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"Malfoy!" Ron's voice was a frightened, angry shriek. "What the hell are you doing?" He could feel his pulse roar in his ears. Were they wrong? Had they really been so wrong about Malfoy this whole time?
"Draco, don't!" He heard the steady, warning tone of his sister, and relief poured into him as he realized that her wand was trained at the back of his head.
"She lied," Malfoy said, speaking as if the thought had only just occurred to him. He was still keeping his wand on Luna, though Ron had raised his as well. He had no chance of succeeding.
"She has not!" Ron defended angrily.
"Drop your wand, Draco," Ginny said, her voice sounding resigned, sad, angry at him for doing this, and angry at herself for believing he could change.
"Ginny, wait," Luna's cool voice interrupted all of them. "Let's hear what Draco has to say." The Weasleys were incredulous.
"This is not exactly the time for tea and conversation, Luna," Ron spluttered.
"Ron's right, and we've no tea right now anyway," Luna said, almost apologetically, to Draco. "So… you'd better hurry."
"You said that - you said that backing the Dark Lord would lead to my mother's torture. You said that turning away from that path would prevent it. She was tortured anyway. She - she - " The extent of Narcissa's betrayal was so raw and deep and new that Draco couldn't even articulate it. Luna had been nodding affably the entire time he was speaking.
"Luna, we don't have time for this!" Ron could feel his heart rate increasing as blood poured into his face.
"Turning away from that path prevented the instance of torture which you saw in your vision," Luna answered, her voice maddeningly calm. "And I never said that turning away from that path would result in your mother's love and blessing, did I?"
Ginny's arm dropped to her side, bonelessly, her wand no longer pointing at Malfoy, but at the ground. Ron snapped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth, once he realized that it was hanging open. Malfoy's eyes were glazed, and his fingers trembled convulsively around the handle of his wand.
"You knew," he said, in a hoarse whisper. "You knew what would happen."
"I didn't know," Luna said, almost inaudibly. "One never knows; one just sees the myriad of … possibilities."
"Possibilities…" Malfoy said, dropping his wand in the grass. He let out a harsh sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. He felt his knees give way, and he was sinking, the soft grassy glade rushing up toward his face.
A sharp hand was under his elbow, wrenching painfully, yanking him upward. His blurred vision sharpened until he could see the glowing visage of Ginevra Weasley, all frightened eyes, wind-tousled hair, and determined mouth.
"Draco, for the love of Merlin, pull yourself together and pick up your wand!"
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The fallen sentry immediately garnered the attention of the Death Eaters, and Harry and Hermione knew that it was now or never. When they burst into the open spaces of the hilltop, the Protego charm already in place, the pain that shot through Harry's scar like a knife-slice felt blinding. He saw white stars in his vision, and would have gone to his knees, if not for Hermione in his mind, siphoning off the pain, her presence a soothing balm.
Okay? she questioned.
Better... he offered up shakily.
They moved intricately, in perfect unison, never misstepping or blocking the other's shot. When the Death Eaters began to realize that it was Hermione who held the shield in place, winking it out rapid-fire so Harry could cast, they switched.
But the end was not assured. The sheer number of Death Eaters kept them constantly on the move, so that they could not be outflanked. The pain in Harry's scar told them he was near, but so far, they had not seen him. Harry began to worry, and Hermione could feel the uneasy ebb and flow of his concern.
Where the hell is he?
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"What?" Draco stammered, staring at Ginny as if she had not spoken English.
"You heard me," she said, biting off the words clearly. "Pick up your bloody wand."
"Why?" he asked, mostly just to be obtuse, just to punish someone else since his entire life was spinning out of his control, headed down the wide, welcoming maw to Hell. "What's the point anyway? We're all going to die."
"Don't you want to take some of them with you, if we do? Damn it, Malfoy, you great sodding ponce," Ron said theatrically, if not particularly helpfully.
Ginny regarded Malfoy for a moment, with large, somber eyes. She appeared divided for a moment, but then stepped toward him, laying one hand softly on his arm. She leaned toward him, and whispered something in his ear that neither Ron nor Luna could hear.
Ron didn't know what his little sister had told Malfoy - and wasn't sure he wanted to know, truth be told - but the Slytherin's icy eyes seemed to clear somewhat, and he did retrieve his wand.
He flicked his eyes toward where Luna stood, holding the carved box, and swallowed. The muscles moved reflexively in the column of his neck.
"Let's do this then."
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The curses flew swift and deadly, resounding off of Hermione's shield with a satisfying noise, like a majestic chord of music. It was clear that they were quickly approaching a stalemate. The Death Eaters never seemed to run out of spellcasters, but few of their spells could make it through the Protego shield. The ache in Harry's forehead had increased to a throbbing pitch that was impossible to ignore, even with Hermione's help, and they were both aware of the knife's edge on which they danced.
Move to the left, Harry, Hermione instructed. We're too close to the edge here. Harry had felt the expanse of gaping nothingness behind him, and was only too glad to comply.
And that was when the cleaver reappeared in his brain - the one that he had felt both a thousand years ago and yet only a couple of days ago, the one that he had hoped to never feel again.
The scream of agony resounding in Hermione's mind, and she tried frantically to ease it, to take some of it onto herself, but every other sense she had seemed overwhelmed by it.
The Protego shield dropped.
Their wands soared through the air away from them.
Someone laughed.
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The four teens stood in a circle, each touching a face of the stone with his or her right hand. Nothing was beneath the stone, but it was held in place by the pressure of fingers, bracing the stone against fingers of the others.
The eerie wind appeared in the glade, ruffling the grass and the trees. A soft, sighing sound swelled up around them.
Luna's hair floated and rippled around her head and shoulders.
She opened her mouth and began to speak.
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"So we come to the end of all things, Mr. Potter," came Voldemort's snake-like voice, sounding sibiliant and satisfied.
"Yes," Harry said calmly. Inwardly, his mind was whirling. Hermione sat beside him quietly, her mind focused on keeping Voldemort out of Harry's.
What the hell is taking them so long?
"Tell me where your friends are."
"You know I won't do that. You're going to kill me whether I tell you or not." Voldemort's lips split over yellowed teeth, and he smiled.
"You're right," he said candidly. "Your fate is certain. But what of hers? She is as doomed as you are, but… I can make it painless, or I can make it agony." He leaned almost casually on Slytherin's staff, and pointed his wand at Hermione. He flicked it upward, and Hermione began to rise through the air.
Hermione!
Don't tell him, Harry. I don't care what he does to me.
Limbs trembling and eyes stinging with hot tears, Harry turned his attention inward, focused on keeping that excruciating, severing pain out of his mind, knowing that if he failed - if Voldemort discovered and stopped the empowering of the Claviomnis, then he'd condemned them all to death
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A flowing, unearthly sounding language tripped from Luna's tongue, as sweet as phoenix song. Ron could not understand any of it, but a strange, triumphant feeling coursed through him. He could feel the smooth surface of the Claviomnis beneath his fingers, he could feel the silver-white heat of Luna's quizzical gaze on his. He realized that his eyes were closed and hers were too, but he could see her as clearly as if she were in his mind with him.
And maybe I am, Ronald, came her musical voice, echoing in his mind, even as he distantly heard her voice, rising and falling in the cadence of the ancient language.
He realized that he could feel the presences of Ginny and Malfoy as well, that he could see them in his mind's eye.
White light was everywhere, surging through them, around them, over them. Ginny's hair was flame, Luna's spun gold and Malfoy's shining white. Images begin to spin past him, as if unraveling from a large spool. Ron felt strong, invincible…he could do anything, he could make anything happen. Anything and everything and nothing was possible - if he willed it to be so.
It made him feel dizzy. Euphoric. Alive.
There was a large manor house on an expanse of green lawn that he somehow recognized as his own. Arthur Weasley was the Minister of Magic. He had Luna twined in a sinuous embrace, kissing her passionately. The Gryffindor house cup - no, it was the Slytherin house cup. Lucius Malfoy lay at his feet, eyes wide in the stare of unmistakable death. Someone was kissing his sister, he couldn't see who. A beautiful blond woman smiled radiantly, enfolding Luna into a tender embrace.
The images moved faster, and Ron realized suddenly that they hadn't all been from him. He could only catch glimpses of things now, out of context and hodgepodge. A Death Eater's mask, a vault at Gringott's, a baby, destruction of Hogwarts, destruction of the Muggle world, Muggles cheering, Harry Potter's wide grin, a sunset, a wedding, a….
Focus!
Luna's voice called him back, and they all tried to remember what they had been doing in the first place.
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Harry felt real fear rise up into his throat, as Hermione floated away from his side and into the circle of Death Eaters. There was laughter, interspersed with a few lewd comments.
Someone cast a Crucio, and Hermione screamed.
Harry thought his heart was going to rip from his chest, as he clumsily tried to ease her pain and keep the mental shields up at the same time.
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The green-topped staff of Slytherin suddenly slammed into sharp relief in the mental circle of the other four. Ron seized onto it gratefully, as he remembered what it was they were trying to do.
He visualized the destruction of Voldemort, as the twisted, snake-like excuse for a human exploded outward in a bloom of light, mouth open, fingers splayed wide, denying what was occurring even as he ceased to exist.
The picture was going to spin past them, whirling on some surreal and never-ending carousel like the others, but he reached out and caught it. The four of them held it fast, and the colors grew brighter, more defined, more real.
The Claviomnis began to tremble.
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Hermione's mind groped her way back to Harry's, trembling and shaky.
Are you all right? he asked, trying to draw off some of her fear and pain.
I'm - I'm okay. But he could feel the tendrils of pain that still curled around her.
And then something caught his attention, something hot and pure and bright and ferocious with energy.
Hermione, I think they're doing it.
There was no response save for wails of agony, as they cursed her again.
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The heat from the stone seared the pads of their fingers, but no one drew away. A new scene was added to the destruction of Voldemort - the destruction of the Claviomnis itself.
There was a mental scuffle. Malfoy seemed against it, unwilling to give up access to that kind of power. Ron knew instinctively that it would be what Harry and Hermione wanted.
He pushed for it. There's no time. Harmony of purpose, you git.
No time.
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Even as Harry felt it building, felt the magic moving toward Voldemort with invisible purpose, he knew it wasn't going to be enough.
Voldemort looked up, slit-like nostrils flaring, eyes alert. He could feel it too.
Hermione, are you with me, love? Can you hear me? Push everything you've got at him…everything - or it's not going to work.
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The light was everywhere, liquid fire, blinding, and they could not escape it, could not shut it out by the closing of eyes. The picture grew clearer, almost lifelike, and then began to split apart.
Luna's voice moved faster, rose higher, spitting out syllables at an unrelenting pace.
The pain in Ron's fingertips was agony.
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"What are you doing, you fool?" Voldemort spat, but Harry had seen the flicker of worry in his eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said calmly. The surge was building; Harry could feel it; Voldemort could feel it.
The Dark Lord raised Slytherin's staff toward the moon, shouted an incantation.
Nothing happened.
Smoke began to billow from the hem of his robes.
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For an instant, Harry got a flash of four people standing in a circle. He could see Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Malfoy. He could feel their determination; he could see the white-hot power of the Claviomnis spewing out in all directions. He took that power and amplified it, built upon it, magnified it, and…
He could feel Hermione's welcome presence in his mind, as she began to add her magic to his own.
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Suddenly, there was silence. Luna's voice stopped, and Ron felt as if he were suspended in a strange vacuum.
The light extinguished; the heat snuffed out.
Four pairs of eyes snapped open, wide with uncertainty and amazement. The Claviomnis fell to the earth unheeded, a dull dark glass, where it had once been fiery scarlet. It splintered into several thick, dull pieces.
"Did it work?" Ginny asked anxiously.
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Voldemort's step faltered, when the hem of his robes began to smoke more copiously. His eyes snapped to the useless staff and then over to Harry, almost accusingly, and Harry smiled.
Voldemort's howl of rage echoed off of the surrounding hills.
And then the light consumed him, licking at his robes, streaming from his eyes and ears and fingers, muting the cries of fury and denial.
He dove at Harry. The edge of the cliff was so close…too close.
Hermione scrambled to her feet with a noisy scuffle of gravel. Nobody seemed to be paying her any mind at all.
Harry and Voldemort seemed to hover together for one moment in a glowing prism of light, before they vanished over the edge of the precipice.
TBC
Okay, here we go. This got really long, but I didn't feel it warranted two separate chapters. Hope you enjoyed it.
Epilogue left.
(And don't anybody freak out… you know I didn't kill Harry!)
lorien
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