Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the 'Harry Potter' universe, nor do I make any claim to the lyric bits that I use.

A/N: Nope. Not another cliffhanger here. If you think that this ends in a cliffie, then you obviously missed something. Trust me, there isn't a cliffhanger here. Would I lie to you? In this installment, we look in on how Vernon is doing, we get a glimpse of Wormtail's motivations, and an explanation of Dumbledore's comment that maybe Peter has more of a part to play in the grand scheme of things. (unlike how in DH all Pettigrew did was off himself… he was no help whatsoever!) We also have Harry's reaction to Kotone's disappearance, and the attempt to rid the world of more of Voldemort's horcruxes. Remember, there is no cliffhanger at the end of this chapter! So please… sit back, relax, and enjoy!

-----~-----

Chapter 46: The Black Lake

Walking through the woods I have faced it,
looking for something to learn.
30,000 thoughts have replaced it,
never in my time to return.

I would give my life to find it,
I would give it all…
Catch me if I fall.

Excerpt from the song 'Texarkana,' by the band R.E.M.

Vernon Dursley was awakened by the sirens of a multitude of emergency vehicles on the street below the windows to his office. He thought it a pity, because he was having such a nice dream about a dinner party with a faceless, kindly old man who was shaking his hand while telling him that he was just the kind of leader the company needed to bring the business to the next level.

Vernon raised his head from his desktop with a dreamy smile plastered upon his face, along with a thin string of drool that connected his damp moustache with the small puddle of saliva on the blotter. However, the smile fell away as he caught sight of the time. He must have fallen asleep at some point in the afternoon and found that he slept well past closing time. Even worse, he was late for his customary 'meeting' with a certain someone.

He started upright and grabbed the handset of his telephone. He was dialing the number even before the phone reached his ear, but stopped when he didn't hear the tone of the numbers he was dialing.

"Bloody phones… always copping out around here," he muttered to himself as he slammed the receiver back onto the cradle and then began to hastily collect some things into his briefcase, all the while thinking how fortunate he was that nobody had found him asleep in his office. He didn't need any negative reports reaching the ear of the owner before he had the chance to butter him up with a fine, home-cooked meal and ply him a bit with an ample supply of brandy.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of his office into the dark hallway and turned towards the elevators. As he made his way to the lifts, he noticed that a few of the doors to other offices on the floor were left open. He glanced into them as he passed, and was surprised to find that the rooms looked to be somewhat in disarray. Papers were scattered on the floor, drawers to file cabinets were left open, and even a coffee mug was spilled across the top of the desk in the Sales President's office, giving the impression that the occupants of those rooms seemed to have left rather hastily.

As he waited for the lift, he could hear the sound of the telly in the break area further down the hall, and one of those high-pitched whines that announced a drill for the emergency civil defense warning system echoed eerily along the empty corridor. He always hated those annoying tests that constantly seemed to interrupt his favorite programs at the most inopportune moments.

He stepped into the lift and pressed the button to the second floor, which led to the pedestrian bridge that crossed above the avenue to the parking garage across the street. As he stepped from the elevator and reached for the swinging door to the walkway, he heard loud banging noises coming from the stairwell at the far end of the hallway. As he strode across the enclosed walkway, he muttered to himself about the 'incompetent nighttime cleaning crew' who always seemed to neglect emptying the rubbish bin beneath his desk, not paying attention to the throng of shambling corpses that were wreaking havoc along the street below.

He walked to his car, climbed inside and started the engine. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was much too late to both pay a visit to his 'friend' and also make it home in time to avoid any 'uncomfortable' questions. The excuse that he used with Petunia was that with his promotion came certain responsibilities, including having to put in extra hours supervising the later shift, and it seemed to be working fine… especially since his wife didn't even bother to meet him at the door since they had their little row. He was almost getting used to the take-out food he was forced to eat since Petunia refused to make him anything. He hoped the spat blew over before the planned dinner party, although he was sure she would put up a good show in front of guests even if she was still in a tiff.

Vernon switched on his lights, put the car in gear and motored down the ramp and out through the gate that led to the street. He was about to take his usual left turn, but saw a cluster of emergency vehicles stopped around the intersection at the end of the street. Wanting to avoid the delay of what he assumed was an accident site, he turned right instead and motored away from the scene. As he turned the next corner onto the thoroughfare, he could have sworn that he saw in his rear-view mirror one of the police cars being flipped onto its roof by a mob of people. Again, he found himself grumbling about rowdy footballers being sore losers. He couldn't wait to reach the peaceful sanctity of his Brentwood home.

He turned left on the main road that would lead him to the A12 to Brentwood. As he drove, he noted with incredulity the many heavily damaged and abandoned autos that lined the sides of the street. Some of the cars were even in the street itself, and a few of those he could tell were still running! It then struck him that his was the only moving vehicle on this normally busy road, especially so early in the evening.

A sick feeling started to build in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right… it smacked of that 'oddness.' His grip tightened on the wheel and he locked his eyes straight forward. At the next traffic signal he stopped at the red, not daring to look around. The light turned green and he was about to step on the accelerator when a loud 'thump' immediately to his right startled him. He turned his head and his gaze fell on what appeared to be a woman, with sparse grey hair and greenish, emaciated flesh clinging loosely to her skull. Her withered, pupil-less eyes seemed to look right through him. He just stared open-mouthed at the animated corpse until her bony fist connected with the window again, shattering it and sending jagged little cubes of glass all over him.

Her hand grabbed his suit jacket at the shoulder as Vernon stomped on the accelerator in panic. The wheels of the Bentley spun on the pavement, creating a thick cloud of smoke behind the car as he sped across the intersection and down the street. He could feel the sharp nails of the woman's bony hand digging into his fleshy shoulder. He heard the material of his jacket ripping under the force of her grasp. He began to swat at the hand frantically, trying to get the woman to release his jacket.

Vernon reared back his meaty fist and prepared to punch the woman square in the face, but when he glanced over, he saw that the woman was no longer beside the car… just the disembodied arm was there clutching at his shoulder. In blind fright, he grabbed the arm, wrenched it from his shoulder, and threw it out through the broken window.

His focus returned to the windscreen just in time to see a streetpole about ten meters directly ahead of his now speeding car. He stomped on the brake pedal and twisted the wheel to the right, avoiding a direct collision with the pole, but ended up sideswiping it all along the Bentley's left side. He heard the sound of grinding, twisting metal as three huge cracks instantly spread horizontally across the windscreen, and both the front and rear passenger windows shattered from the impact. In his rear view, he could see his tail bumper spinning along in the street behind him, sending sparks scattering haphazardly in its wake.

He could also see out of the corners of his eyes several lumbering figures shuffling from between the surrounding buildings. Not wanting to linger about, he wisely and hastily left the area, speeding along the street for a few blocks before turning onto the A12 heading East.

He was speeding along the nearly empty highway for about fifteen minutes before meeting up with what appeared to be the rest of the fleeing population of London. Cars were at a dead standstill, lined up in front of him as far as he could see. Some of the terrified people were frantically pulling their belongings from their cars, abandoning them and continuing on foot away from London.

Vernon placed the Bentley in park, turned off the engine and climbed out. He walked around and inspected the damage to the left side of his vehicle. He winced painfully and let out an aggravated grunt as he surveyed the ripped and dented metal that ran the entire length of the car. The left front corner of the car was mangled, with steam and smoke wafting from under the bonnet. The broken headlight was hanging from its wires, and he could hear the drip of oil patting on the pavement from somewhere under the car. He could also detect the smell of burning electrical wiring. He groaned sadly as he placed his hand gently on the crushed fender and gave it a loving pat.

He spun on his heel and approached the car directly in front of him. A young couple stood at the car's boot, the man was pulling a trunk from within while the woman, who was cradling an infant protectively in her arms, stood anxiously by. The woman gave a start as Vernon neared, but relaxed somewhat when she realized that, due to the sheer bulk of the man approaching them, he was probably not one of the creatures that was raiding the city.

With all of his usual tact, Vernon marched right up and bellowed importantly, "What the bloody hell is going on around here?"

The man who was struggling in the boot abruptly dropped the trunk onto his own foot. He let out a yelp and spun around with his fists raised. He immediately came to the same conclusion that his wife had, that Vernon was much too obese to be a zombie. He sat back against the boot and rubbed his foot as he said, "Where've you been, in a ruddy cave or sumthin'? It's been all over the news an' everythin'!"

Seeing Vernon's puzzled expression, the man let out a tired sigh and said, "London's been ordered to evacuate. They're sayin' that a bunch of terrorists, thousands of 'em, are dressed up like zombies and are assaultin' the city. Well, I'll tell you somethin'… I seen 'em… with me own eyes! Them's not costumes they're wearin'… I'm sure they're dead people… I don't know how the dead are walkin', but there ya have it… The skin fallin' off, the smell… cor, the smell of 'em… an' bleedin' fast they are, too!"

The woman started crying loudly, standing there visibly trembling as she held her baby close to her chest, saying through her sobs, "They got me mum! I was visiting her flat when they came through Hackney… burst through the yard an' grabbed her, they did! It was all I could do to get out with me own skin!"

The man took his wife in his arms and tried to calm her while he spoke, "The news says they came down from Essex, from Colchester through Chelmsford, destroyin' everythin' in their way. The Royal Army's movin' in, tanks an' all… Dunno what good it'll do against undead…"

"Essex?" said Vernon in a bluster, "That's in this direction! Why is everyone heading this way?"

"Well, now they're behind us back in London, Aren' they? They says that the 'terrorists' are keepin' in a mob, so this is the best way to go, innit?"

Suddenly, what the man said about the path the zombies took finally registered in his brain, "You said Colchester through Chelmsford? Have you heard if they went through Brentwood?"

"Aye, Brentwood's a right mess, or so I heard, although we were too busy packin' to pay it much mind, you unnerstan'…"

Vernon wasn't listening anymore. He had turned his back on the couple and walked numbly back to his car. He slowly climbed in the driver's seat, shut the door, laid his arms across the steering wheel and let his forehead drop on top of them.

"It's them ruddy freaks!" Vernon muttered angrily to himself, "I hope that Voldievore nutter wipes the lot of 'em out!"

-----~-----

Peter Pettigrew was told to stay put… to keep hidden… to remain in the secret antechamber beneath the muggle power station until he got the orders to do otherwise from the Dark Lord himself.

Peter Pettigrew had a bad habit of eavesdropping on his fellow Death Eaters. Although he wanted nothing to do with the Dark Lord's secrets, he had no qualms about obtaining juicy tidbits of gossip about his cohorts.

Peter Pettigrew overheard a conversation about the Dark Lord's release of the inferi, and he heard about the swath of destruction across Essex and into London.

Peter Pettigrew was no longer in the secret antechamber beneath the muggle power station.

He was in his animagus form, scurrying down a back street in Soho. With every smoking ruin he passed, with every mangled body he came across, his heart raced ever faster. He turned down a small alley off of Wardour Street and raced along the side of the building, but he could already tell, he could see the smashed door from the moment he turned the corner, but still, he raced on, hoping against hope.

As soon as he entered the doorway to the small basement flat, he shed his rat form and stumbled over the pile of broken furniture trying to make his way to the small bedroom whose door was leaning askew from one of its hinges. When he reached the bedroom doorway, he had to grasp the jamb to keep from falling to his knees in despair.

There, lying on the floor in a broken, twisted heap was his squib twin sister, Petra.

There, lying on the dirty floor was the true reason he became a Death Eater. The shame of having a squib in the pureblood family forced the Pettigrews to keep her a secret.

Unfortunately, Voldemort discovered that dirty little secret, and discovered where she lived in the muggle world. He threatened to have her killed if Peter did not turn spy for him. True, she was a squib, but she was also his twin, and the only family he had left.

It was probably just an unfortunate coincidence that she lived in the path of the inferi horde, but that didn't matter to him now… James and Lily… Sirius… and now Petra… dead. He betrayed his friends, lied, murdered… just to keep his sister safe.

Now, his reason for serving the Dark Lord was gone. He truly had nothing or no one left. He suddenly remembered the wasp caught in the spider's web, remembering how he saw himself as the trapped insect fated to die a long, slow, and agonizing death. He could almost feel the sticky strands choking him as he stared at his twin's lifeless body.

He knew what he had to do.

A minute later, Wormtail was sitting at a desk in a small dirty flat at Spinner's End. He knew, as well as all of the other Death Eaters, that Snape would never be foolish enough to return to this place. He took the two small sheets of parchment that he had been writing on, charmed them individually, and then stuck them together, one on top of the other. He hastily stuffed them in a parchment envelope, then stood from the desk and made his way up to the attic loft. As he hoped, he found Judas, Snape's horned owl, and attached the envelope to the owl's leg.

"As quickly as you can, bring this to Harry Potter. Make sure he reads it, and after that… you're free to go wherever you like, just as I'm about to do."

Wormtail launched the bird from his arm out through the attic window, and then after a moment's thought, made his way down to Snape's wine cellar and helped himself to as much of the expensive elf-made wine that he could charm down in size and stuff into his pockets before apparating away to only he knew where… hopefully to a place where he wouldn't be found before he had the chance to drain at least a few of the bottles… he didn't think he could face the end sober.

But still, with that bit of information he sent off, maybe… just maybe… Harry could undo at least some of his mistakes. Maybe… just maybe… that small act would lend him enough karmic redemption to not end up in the same Hell as Voldemort…

Maybe…

But he doubted it.

-----~-----

Harry was sitting on the sofa, staring down at the empty spot on the polar bearskin rug where Kotone usually settled herself. He could see the outline of her body embedded in the matted-down fur as he slowly rolled Kotone's wand between his hands.

He had Hermione open the envelope, where she found Kotone's wand and two halves of a sheet of parchment, one intended for Harry and the other for her. It was difficult reading what Kotone had written, she had a hard enough time speaking English, so it was understandable that her written English was something less than atrocious. Still, Hermione was able to decipher what was written and read the short note to Harry as he sat there on the sofa.

The note for Harry simply said that Kotone had a job to do for the Oni, and that he would see her again 'soon.' She also said that Harry should keep her wand… she couldn't use it, and it would be better for him to be seen with one while performing magic with the glove… and she told him that she loved him.

When Harry asked what was in the note for her, Hermione paused for only a moment before saying, "When we were deciding what to get you for your birthday, she agreed to give me something to give to you if I would help her make that gauntlet for you. That was before I arranged for the adoption papers…"

Hermione's voice trailed off when she saw Harry's expression fall into an angry scowl, obviously quite put out that a race of supposed powerful 'dark hunters' was somehow relying on a little girl to perform some sort of service for them.

Harry couldn't help but to feel that Kotone was in danger. Something was niggling at the back of his mind that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He had no idea what she was doing or when she would be back… 'soon' really didn't say much.

In a hopeful attempt to calm Harry down, Hermione walked towards the nursery where they had stored Kotone's trunk while saying, "Well, since it is technically your birthday, I think you should have the present that I was supposed to give you."

Hermione opened the trunk and pulled out Kotone's ratty old teddy bear. She suddenly remembered that she had seen that bear before while at Grimmauld Place… the bear that seemed to change its expression when she held it. Her first instinct was to drop it back into the trunk, but instead carried it face-down out into the main room.

When Harry saw her walk out of the nursery with the toy bear in her hands, he couldn't stop the slight, teary chuckle from escaping him, "She wanted you to give me her teddy bear?"

Hermione was wearing an odd expression as she sat down on the sofa beside Harry and set the bear face-down on the rug. She couldn't bring herself to look at the bear's face.

"Not the bear itself," explained Hermione, "but what's inside of it."

She reached down and found the tab of thin, rusty zipper at the back of its neck. After a brief struggle, she managed to slide the zipper open enough to reach inside.

"Do you know what's in there?" asked Harry curiously.

Hermione gave him a nervous smile and said, "No, not really."

Hermione took a deep breath, spread the opening apart, and then reached into the bear. She was very surprised that she couldn't feel any of the stuffing, it was like she was reaching into an empty cloth sack. She reached in a bit deeper and felt something soft and fuzzy brush against her fingertips and felt a slight sting similar to an electric spark. She gently closed her hand around it and pulled the object out of the bear. Instantly, the bear seemed to deflate as if the stuffing had suddenly vanished. She lifted her hand between them and slowly opened her fingers.

There in the palm of Hermione's hand rested a small ball of what appeared to be silky fine fur that stuck straight out in all directions. It almost resembled one of the twins' miniature puffskeins, except for the fact that it was glowing and floating an inch above her palm.

"What is it?" asked Harry as he stared at the odd little ball.

"I… I think it's… no, it can't be…" Hermione whispered as she leaned her face closer to the glowing fuzzball, "Do you remember from Professor Lupin's class what hinkypunks are?"

Harry thought for a moment and said, "Yeah, I remember… they're the little monsters who carry lanterns around boggy areas. They use the lantern light to lure lost people into the bogs to die…" Harry recalled something else about them from the class and said, "and they're especially dangerous to wizards because they can reflect whatever spell you use on them back to you… pleasant little critters, they are… is this one of them?"

"Hinkypunks aren't entirely corporeal," said Hermione as she studied the creature in her hand, "their bodies are made up of mostly mist and bog gas, and they don't really carry lanterns… they carry one of these."

"A glowing Pygmy Puff?" guessed Harry as he also moved closer.

"It's a Wisp, or as it more commonly referred to, a Will o' Wisp. Hinkypunks don't really reflect spells, they carry one of these to absorb the spell, and then command the Wisp to release it back from where it came… watch."

Hermione drew her wand and released the wisp, which remained suspended in the air before them. She pointed her wand at the wisp while her brows furrowed in concentration. A small spark of pink light jumped out of her wand and hit the Wisp. Harry was surprised to see that whatever spell Hermione had used didn't seem to affect the creature at all, except for the fact that it seemed to glow a bit brighter. A small, mischievous smile appeared on Hermione's lips as her brows furrowed again. Suddenly, the pink spark shot out of the wisp and hit Harry in the chest, taking him by complete surprise. Immediately, Harry found himself on the floor, rolling around in a fit of laughter. After almost a minute of loud, side-splitting laughter, he managed to cast a 'Finite' with his glove to end the tickling jinx.

Hermione watched in amusement as Harry rose unsteadily to his feet, panting heavily from his laughter. Her smile faded, however, when she reached out and grasped the floating Wisp. She extended her hand to Harry and opened her fingers, offering the creature to him.

"Kotone said in her note to me that since I had managed to find a gift for you after all, that this should be a birthday present to you from the both of us."

Hermione watched as Harry reached out for the Wisp. She noticed his hand jerk slightly as he touched it and assumed that the 'spark' occurred whenever ownership changed. She saw a look cross Harry's eyes, the same look that he had when she first saw him on the Hogwarts Express those many years ago. He was worried, scared, and somewhat lost. He turned his worried eyes up to hers and asked, "She is coming back to us, right?"

Hermione felt a small lump appear in her throat and had to swallow it down painfully before she could answer, "She said that we'll see her again… soon."

Harry's eyes dropped to the wisp in his hand and he simply nodded. He tucked the creature along with Kotone's wand into his pocket.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she looked at his troubled expression. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him what she hoped was a comforting hug. She felt his arms wrap tightly around her shoulders and he held her in a firm embrace. She thought she knew what he was thinking as he held her tightly… is she going to be the next thing he loves to be taken from him?

She tightened her own embrace and rested her cheek against his shoulder as she placed a feather-light kiss onto his neck and softly said, "I'm not going anywhere, Harry. The hordes of Hell itself couldn't drag me away from you."

Hermione felt his head nod against her hair in acknowledgement. She heard him heavily sigh before he loosened his embrace and moved slightly back from her. His eyes had lost the worried glaze, in its stead was a hard, determined glint.

"We've got some work to do. If they bring her back here while we're gone, then she'll be safe enough until we get back. Do you feel up to banishing a few bits of the Dim Lord?"

Hermione's eyes widened, "Wha… what did you call him?"

Harry smiled as he walked to the pile of stuff behind the sofa and began collecting some things that they might need as he innocently answered, "What? The Dim Lord? That's the name that the twins had come up with… I dunno, it kinda stuck in my head… so, are you up for it?"

She nodded with a half amused, half horrified expression as she watched him stuff his father's folded invisibility cloak into a small bag and then lifted his Firebolt, shrunk it and placed it in with the cloak. He handed the bag to her and then took her hand in his. An instant later, they both silently disappeared in a dim flash of blue light.

-----~-----

Pigwidgeon was tired, but he was also excited. Night had been steadily settling, but he could still make out the spot of land on the horizon. He doubled his efforts, seeing that his destination was so near. All he wanted to do was to stuff himself with as many treats as he could beg, fill himself to near bursting with some clean, salt-free water, and get some desperately needed sleep.

He was so close… he could see light coming through a skylight on top of the small house. He noticed that the front door was open, and he could tell his destination was just on the other side of that door. He swooped down from treetop level and glided through the open doorway… just in time to see a flash of blue light.

He instantly became disoriented. He tried to fight the natural instinct to circle around to get a bearing on his new destination, but in the process of fighting the instinct, he managed to fly directly into the fireplace in the wall on the far side of the room.

He came rolling out of the hearth onto a white fur rug, leaving a trail of soot leading from the grate to where he finally stopped.

Pig remained on his side… silent and motionless, except for the very rapid rise and fall of his little chest… his eyes staring blankly at some invisible something that was a mile away. After a minute, he began to emit strange, high-pitched squeaking, and if anyone was around that could speak owl, they would have heard continuous, hysterical, eerily insane laughter.

-----~-----

They appeared on the marshy bank of the black lake just a few meters away from Dumbledore's white marble tomb. Harry immediately began striding purposefully towards the tomb while Hermione's head quickly looked around as she tried to get her bearings.

Harry was just approaching the tomb when he heard Hermione gasp and say, "Harry! We're on Hogwarts grounds!"

Harry turned his head back to her and said, "Yeah, I know. I figured that the horcrux in the tomb would be the easiest to get rid of… we know there are none of Voldemort's protections here, and…"

"Harry!" hissed Hermione, "You can't Apparate anywhere inside of Hogwarts… including the grounds! The wards just don't allow it! It clearly states in…"

"Hogwarts: A History. Yes, I do remember you telling us that… repeatedly…"

"But you just did it!" said Hermione in a strained voice that held an almost comical squeak.

Harry briefly looked around, as if he had just noticed where they were and calmly said, "Yeah… I suppose I did… come on, let's get this done before we're found. We still have the lake to contend with after this."

Harry patiently watched as Hermione absently shook her head and seemed to collect herself. She walked up to the tomb and sat down on the soft grass in front of it. He watched in fascination as Hermione entered her state and assumed her transformed appearance. The whole area around the tomb seemed to darken as the charcoal-grey mist appeared and skirted the ground around them.

Not wanting to miss anything, Harry closed his eyes and entered his own state. He expected to get the same sensation that he had during the ritual that he performed earlier, but he didn't feel any different than he usually did in his state. The sensation of total awareness didn't come at all, just the feeling of time slowing around him.

The banishing ritual went quickly and flawlessly. With each blood-rune that Hermione deftly drew, the writhing, smoky serpent responded exactly as expected. After the glowing rift closed and the last of the resounding echoes of the bell faded across the lake, both Harry and Hermione emerged from their respective states.

Hermione turned her head and cautiously looked at Harry, and she visibly relaxed when she saw his proudly smiling face. Oddly enough, she felt none of the fear or the guilt that usually came to the surface after performing that ritual… and she knew it was because of Harry's acceptance of what she was. At that moment, she could have easily pounced on him and snogged him to within an inch of his life. Instead, she rose to her feet, wrapped him in a grateful hug and sighed into his shoulder. Performing the ritual was not only getting easier… it was getting better.

They were forced to break their embrace when the sound of whispered voices came drifting down from the direction of the castle. Harry quickly withdrew his cloak from the bag and covered both Hermione and himself just before a group of witches and wizards came into view. They all were moving cautiously with their wands drawn and lit as they scanned the area.

They heard the hurried whisper of a woman, "I'm telling you, I heard a bell… a big one, like in a cathedral, or Big Ben or something!"

"What in Merlin's name is that awful smell?" came a male voice from within the group as they headed towards the tomb.

"I'm not sure… i' smells like rotten eggs and firewhiskey farts!" came another gruff male voice that could only have belonged to Benjamin Bones. Harry let out a small sigh of relief, as he had been afraid that Ben might have been a casualty of the Death Eater raid in Diagon Alley.

"Brimstone," said the voice of Minerva McGonagall, "and sulphur… I wonder what it means?"

"Do you think it has something to do with the ward breach?" asked Ben.

"I don't know… this is the area where the breach occurred. I can't see how the anti-apparition ward could have been subverted. It's never happened before."

The group spread out and searched for several minutes. A few times, they came so close to where they were hidden beneath the cloak that they could see the beads of perspiration on the person's face in the dim wandlight.

Ben approached McGonagall and said, "We can't see anything out of place here, and you have a castle full of guests to attend to. Have Simmons set an extra patrol inside the castle, I'll hang out here for a while with Coddington, just to make sure. If we see anything we'll send a patronus."

McGonagall nodded and gathered the rest of the group before heading back to the castle. Harry watched as Ben and the other auror position themselves on either side of the tomb before they cast disillusionment spells on themselves as they faded from view, leaving only two shimmering outlines where they were standing.

Slowly and quietly, Harry and Hermione made their way along the shoreline until they were sure they were out of view of the two aurors.

"One down, one to go," whispered Harry as he pulled the cloak from over them.

Hermione's eyes glazed over as she watched Harry shrug out of his clothes until he was standing before her in nothing but his boxers. He reached into the bag and pulled out his Firebolt. He dispelled the shrinking charm, climbed onto the broom, and then held his hand out to Hermione, obviously wanting her to get on the broom with him.

Oh, how she wanted to be on that broom with his arms cradled protectively around her. The randiness that she was feeling when he was disrobing was nothing compared to the desire that was churning within her at the thought of his barely covered manhood pressed against her bum. She had no qualms about riding a broom, but she thought she could be of more use if she was with him, and not just on the broom waiting for him.

Hermione took a deep calming breath, then shook her head and said, "I'll be with you, but I'm not getting on that broom."

Hermione sat down on the grass and pulled Harry's cloak over her. Harry wondered for a moment what she meant, but then saw the telltale mist covering the ground around them. She would be with him, but not in her body.

Harry kicked off from the ground and glided low over the water towards the center of the lake. He stopped just over the spot where he knew the fountain was positioned. He cast the bubblehead charm on himself, then leaned off the side of the broomstick and gently lowered himself into the water. He watched the Firebolt hover unmoving in the air just a foot above the calm surface. Once he was sure the broom wouldn't drift away, he ducked beneath the surface and began swimming straight downward through the deep, dark water towards the Mervillage.

He was thankful that it was the middle of summer. The water was chilly, but nothing compared to the biting cold that he experienced during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. If it wasn't for the gillyweed he used, he was sure his limbs would have seized up from the bone-chilling cold before he even got close to his 'treasure.'

He was broken out of his thoughts as he neared the Mervillage. He saw a few of the Merfolk eyeing him cautiously as he swam towards the center of their village, but none of them made a move towards him. He did notice a pair of armed Mermen carrying vicious-looking war forks while each of them rode a hippocampus. He recognized the beasts from one of his Care of Magical Creatures books, but had never seen any of the strange fish-horses in person before. He didn't even know that there were any in the Mervillage.

As he neared the growth-covered fountain in the center square of the village, he was oddly comforted by the fact that Hermione's spirit was there with him, even though he couldn't see her. He could somehow feel her presence, though, and he imagined that she was gliding beside him, watching his every move.

Harry swam right up to the top of the fountain, and immediately recognized Hufflepuff's Cup resting in the center of the top tier, exactly where he had seen it in his spirit form. The concern about touching the cup briefly crossed his mind, but he knew that the reason the locket horcrux invaded him was because of the piece of Voldemort's soul that he had at the time… the soul shard that was no longer with him. Confident that the horcrux in the cup wouldn't possess him, he slowly extended his hand, grabbed the handle, and waited.

Nothing happened.

He sighed in relief into the bubble surrounding his face, and then lifted the cup from its resting place.

Suddenly, streams of magic resembling great bolts of red, forked lightning arced out from the fountain. The bolts of magic seemed to seek out and connect with each of the denizens of the Mervillage. He glanced around quickly at the Merpeople nearest him, and saw their blank, emotionless expressions, and their brightly glowing eyes that seemed to radiate a red light. He saw the other Merpeople emerging from the dwellings surrounding the square, all armed with spears and war forks. He saw the hippocampi-riding Mermen racing towards him with their weapons raised ominously. It was all happening dizzyingly fast, the way the entire population of Merpeople was advancing on him menacingly.

Harry tucked the cup under his arm and held out Kotone's wand threateningly, remembering how scared the Merpeople were when he used magic during the tournament. The sight of the wand didn't seem to faze his attackers at all, telling him that whatever it was possessing them overrode their natural instincts and fears. Things weren't looking very good for him.

He briefly closed his eyes, willing himself into his state. He instantly reached the point where he could 'see' all around him, but what he saw didn't bode well. The two Mermen on the hippocampi were just a few meters away from him. He didn't have time to fully achieve his state, so the actions around him were somewhat slowed, but not to the point that he could move independently. The fact that he had the water resistance to contend with wasn't helping him, either.

He barely had time to roll away from the sharp tines of the first war fork, and ended up right in the path of the second. He felt one of the twin tines pierce the bicep of his left arm, the force of which spun him to the side awkwardly and caused the cup to fall free. The Merman wrenched the war fork upwards, tearing open a large gaping wound in his arm. Shock dulled his comprehension as he absently watched bits of flesh, muscle and sinew billow out from his injured arm.

"Reducto!" he thought frantically and saw the force of the bludgeoning spell billow out from his hand, connecting with the chest of the second Merman. A cloud of greenish blood trailed after the Merman as he slowly drifted towards the lake bottom. The first Merman had already turned his hippocampus back towards him and was charging again.

Harry had the briefest moment to enter into his state more fully, and finally felt the sensation of speeding himself up through time. He didn't know how the spell popped into his head… he wasn't even sure he could do it as he had only seen Hermione perform it on one occasion before. He raised his hand towards the charging Merman and without even thinking the incantation, a small white spark of magic left his hand and hit him in the arm that was carrying the war fork. As if in slow motion, he saw the tines of the weapon drop down as the Merman's arm bent unnaturally until the war fork was flailing uselessly behind him.

A second spell left his hand, knocking the Merman from his mount. Unfortunately for Harry, the hippocampus continued to bear down on him. He avoided a direct collision by frantically spinning to the side of the beast, but the razor sharp fins that lined the side of the hippocampus tore a wide gash in the right side of his torso. By that time, what appeared to be the entire population of the Mervillage had surrounded him and were closing in on him quickly.

Spells left his glove and channeled through Kotone's wand. He saw dozens of Merpeople fall lazily towards the bottom of the lake, some appeared burned, others had clouds of blood trailing down in their wake from the deep gashes or missing limbs. He felt horrified that he was causing such destruction on a village of people who were clearly not acting of their own accord. Still, he had to keep fighting… he had to survive, but he was losing a lot of blood, and his movements were becoming increasingly sluggish… and he was coming dangerously close to being overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. When he felt a spear penetrate the back of his left thigh, he knew he was in serious trouble.

Clouds of red and green were obscuring his vision, and along with the searing pain in his arm, leg, and along his side, he felt his consciousness slipping away. He thought he saw a large shadow pass above him, but it was getting much too dark and cloudy to really see anything. He felt a jerking pull from around his abdomen, but it was nothing like the feeling one gets when using a portkey… it was probably the thrust of another spear.

His last thoughts before the darkness enveloped him were that he had failed, and that he would never see Hermione or Kotone again.

Well, maybe not 'never,' but not in this lifetime.

-----~-----

A/N: Fun Fact: I thought about ending Pig's torture, and originally wrote him arriving just before they left, but I'm having way too much fun driving him crazy!

PS: See? No cliffhanger! Really! This is not a cliffhanger! (I know it really is a cliffhanger, but if I say that it's not often enough, then it won't be! Come on, give me a break! This is well over 7000 words as it is, and would you have preferred me to end it just as Harry got to the fountain? Let's face it… no matter where I end it, it will be a cliffhanger whether I want it to be or not! (Which I don't, truthfully!))