"Ron, NO!" Hermione screamed, but it was too late. Harry's knees buckled as he prepared to dodge, but he moved too late. As he fell to the side, the curse had already begun to take effect. The pain pierced his body, causing him to thrash on the hard, jagged ground, which caused even more pain. He felt a particularly sharp stone jutting out of the ground tear the right sleeve of his robes. A warm liquid seeped out and he could feel it trailing down his arm. He heard Voldemort laughing nearby as a scream welled up in his throat. As he couldn't hold it in anymore, he heard Ron laughing, a soft, emotionless sound. In a split second, Harry decided that he would not scream, to not show his weakness to the man he hated most in the world.
After a few more moments of excruciating pain, Harry was able to open his eyes. Groaning inwardly, every bone in his tired body aching, and shaking all over, he raised himself to his knees. He saw a blur of movement. Blinking rapidly, he saw Hermione moving forward.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
"Stand back, you silly girl!" Voldemort growled with a wave of his wand. Hermione went flying back, then abruptly stopped, suspended in midair at the edge. The look on her face of pure panic caused Harry to get to his feet.
"Let her go," he said, trying to be as calm as possible. "And let Ron go too."
"Easier said than done," Voldemort said, then cackled. "You would like for that to happen, wouldn't you? Unfortunately, I am the master around here, so what I say goes. And I say, Crucio!"
Harry leapt out of the way just in time. He felt a slight breeze by his left ear as the jet of red light went past. As Harry didn't have his wand handy, all he could do was dodge as Voldemort uttered curse after curse.
"Last time we met," he continued, almost lazily, "I gave you the chance to duel against me, as an equal, if you will. You were fully armed, as I was, and even though you had a much lesser knowledge of magic than me, I still gave you a chance. But that is where I failed. You thwarted me once again, Potter."
"The information that Lucius asked his son to collect on you proved very helpful, by the way. He will be rewarded. Now let me see." he paused to flick his wand. A sheaf of parchments appeared in the air. He glanced at them. "I notice you went to meet.a large, shaggy black dog on your last Hogsmeade trip. Hmm.I will have to look into that." After surveying the papers for a few more moments, they disappeared with another flick. "Nothing else I didn't already know."
"I realized my flaw last time. So this time, it is going to be a little different. Weasley," the Dark Lord turned to Ron, who had not moved, "get rid of this useless stick of wood. Now." He handed Ron Harry's wand.
Ron bowed, and Harry felt anger surge through him. Ron strode in the direction of the edge, and Harry realized what he was going to do.
"Ron!" he suddenly cried, but to no avail. The redhead continued to walk toward the edge of the cliff. Harry followed Ron, but stopped when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Voldemort slowly move toward the suspended Hermione, who seemed to be struggling with the invisible chains binding her arms.
"Ron, don't do it!" Hermione called, a note of desperation in her voice as Voldemort drew closer to
her. Harry groped around for a plan, anything to scrounge up at the last minute. He needed the wand in order to
distract Voldemort from Hermione. In order to get the wand, he needed to break Ron out of his trance.
"My Lord?" A quavering voice suddenly sounded, making all the heads turn or look up. Voldemort wheeled
around, his eyes emitting red sparks now.
"What?!" he spat, eyes darting around the circle of Death Eaters, who at once bowed their heads again.
"I-I was just about to say..." the voice quavered.
"You dare to interrupt me, Nott. This must be of utmost importance, then," Voldemort said dangerously after a moment's pause.
"Y-y-yes, Master," Nott replied fearfully and raised his head some. Harry cast a glance at the hooded man, then froze as they locked eyes. Something about those eyes struck Harry as familiar.
"Master, wouldn't it be better to torture the girl before killing her?" Nott suggested weakly. Harry stared at the man, who had cast his eyes on the ground. Now, he looked up again and his eyes darted fixed on Harry with a steady gaze, then darted from Harry to Ron repeatedly, then fixed on Harry again.
"Nott," the Serpent King said steadily, twiddling his wand between his thumbs.
"Yes, Master?" Nott spoke hesitantly, his eyes remaining fixed on Harry but his head bent. As Harry stared defiantly back, it dawned on him. But how was he supposed to believe a Death Eater?
"You are under my service, are you not?" Voldemort asked calmly.
"'Til the end of time, my Lord," Nott replied. The eyes never left their gaze. Harry was having a battle within himself. He had a precious few moments. He could either listen to Nott the Death Eater and get Ron, who was only a few steps away, or ignore him and lose his wand, the only weapon he had against the evil man who had made his life miserable. Thereby, he would lose his two best friends in the world.
"Then why are you giving me suggestions?" Voldemort asked smoothly, glancing up at Nott.
"Just to aid you in the best way to anguish the Mudblood, Master," Nott answered. Harry's time was running out. He had to make up his mind fast.
He leapt. He flung himself forward with his arms outstretched, and caught Ron around the ankles, bringing him down with him. Pain shot through his already aching muscles, and to top it off, his scar was starting to pound again. He heard a clatter as his wand went rolling off and, as he glanced up, saw it come to a stop at mere few inches from the edge.
"Get off me, Potter!" Ron spat, struggling to stand up. Harry had never heard such biting tones from Ron, and neither had his best friend ever called him Potter. It was a change for the worse.
"No, Ron! Snap out of it!" Harry answered, not letting go of Ron's ankles.
"Stop! Let me go!" Ron struggled against Harry's grip. But Harry wasn't going to let go so easily. With some difficulty, he stood up, still holding onto Ron's ankles.
"Potter, Potter, Potter," Voldemort's voice was in Harry's head. Ron stopped wiggling to look up, a grin on his face.
"WHY on Earth do you have to make things so difficult, Potter?" the question was immediately followed by his sudden appearance right next to Harry.
"To stop you," a voice came. A hooded person had stepped forward, wand out and ready. Through the darkness of the hood, Harry could make out the same darting eyes, the eyes he could've sworn he had seen SOMEWHERE before. "Crucio!"
With a look of mild surprise, the Dark Lord easily sidestepped the jet of red light, which went flying over the edge, and walked to the lone Death Eater. Harry fell to the ground on his knees beside Ron and whispered urgently, "Snap out of it Ron! Remember me? Harry? Your best friend? Remember Hermione, helpless over there?" He looked at Ron, who showed no change of emotion except for the snarl that contorted his features.
"Defying your own master, Nott?" Voldemort asked, a mix of surprise and expectation in his voice.
"Remember Hogwarts? Remember Hagrid, Ginny, and your mum and dad, and all the food you could eat?" At this, something familiar seemed to flicker in Ron's blue eyes.
"Well, if that's the way you feel, maybe a taste of your own medicine might change your mind? Mind you, that's not where I'm going to stop," the Dark Lord stated softly.
"Remember Lavender?" Harry asked desperately, and at this, Harry noticed a change in Ron's eyes as well as his features.
"You're good, Ron. You don't want to be evil. You hate this. You've been put under a spell. Wake up. Get out of it, Ron," Harry plunged on. In the anxiety, he slapped his best friend hard across the cheek, leaving a red mark.
Ron sat up slowly, then blinked several times. One hand went up to his head.
"What is this place? Harry? What are you doing here?" he finally said, shaking his head rapidly. Harry grinned, happy for a brief moment. He could've hugged Ron, but there was no time.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, still chained. She had noticed the change in Ron's behavior. Harry shot her a warning look to tell her not to draw any more attention to them.
"Crucio!" Voldemort cried from beyond, and Harry quickly stood up, helping Ron up as well. A strong breeze blew suddenly, and the hood of the Death Eater flew backwards as he squirmed on the ground in agony. Harry remembered and quickly turned around to see his wand teetering dangerously, the wind making up its mind as to what to do with it. He lunched forward and grabbed the cool wood just before it completely fell over.
He felt an indescribable power renew his senses. He was armed again. He had as much power as Voldemort. With this, he muttered, "Stay here" to Ron and slowly walked forward. As he neared, his eyes grew wide. Nott had changed appearance. He was.Arabella Figg. Her gray hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, her old, sallow face twisted in torment, Mrs. Figg, Harry's old babysitter, lay on the ground, suffering.
"Mrs. Figg!?" he would've exclaimed, but the shock kept his mouth glued shut.
"I should've known. Figg. About time you showed up," Voldemort said, devoid of shock. At that moment, Harry realized that Mrs. Figg had been trying to help him with the signals with her eyes.
But still, why is Mrs. Figg here? How can Voldemort be so calm about this? Could he have known previously that she was going to be here? Did she use Polyjuice Potion to disguise herself as Nott?
The questions racing through his mind at a mile a second, Harry forced himself to stay calm, to not start shouting out randomly. As he watched, Mrs. Figg stood up slowly and Voldemort regarded her with a cold stare.
"Your turn of torture ends now, Voldemort," she spat his name out as if it were a poison.
"How are things with you, Arabella? Good, I presume? It's a pity I should bring that to an end," Voldemort said with a smile. Harry couldn't believe it. What kind of sick pleasure could Voldemort receive from killing innocent people?
"No!" Harry suddenly found his voice and stepped in front of Voldemort. "You can't kill her!"
"Since when, Potter, do you tell me what I can and cannot do?" Voldemort asked in an amusing voice.
"Since now," Harry found himself saying. "You've murdered too many innocent people, especially the ones who mattered most to me. I can't bring them back, but I won't let you go on." He sounded braver than he felt, but raised his wand readily.
"Sentimental. Avada Kedavra," Voldemort said in an indifferent tone. The green bullet of light that issued from Voldemort traveled slowly in Harry's mind, inching closer to him as he racked his brain for a counter-curse. As one occurred to him, he was pushed roughly so that he fell to the floor. Above him, a blinding light illuminated the surroundings for a brief moment before everything returned to its dull color. Harry heard Hermione scream, and as he shakily go to his feet, he noticed a limp body next to him. Mrs. Figg lay motionless on the floor.
"And now, YOUR turn. But instead of killing you right away, I think I will make you suffer, much like you have made ME suffer these past fifteen years," Lord Voldemort announced. "Abalienum," he voiced. Harry felt numb and limp, much like a puppet. He tried to move his arms and legs, but it was like his brain had forgotten how to work. His eyes still saw, but everything had a surreal quality to it.
Fight it, a voice said in the back of his mind. He tried, but the spell was too powerful. Helplessly, he saw Voldemort wave his wand, then felt his slack body flying backwards. Before he could figure out what was happening, he was suspended like Hermione, a few feet away, in the exact same position.
"If I wave my wand, you two will be on your way to a watery grave," Voldemort laughed his cold, mirthless laugh. It sounded distant to Harry's ears. He felt his brain being clouded over.
Abruptly, he didn't care anymore. He didn't care whether he fell into the cold water below, didn't care whether Hermione or Ron died, didn't care that the invisible chains were cutting into his wrists. He didn't have a care in the world.
"Harry!" Harry heard his name being called, but could care less. He felt all the emotion and feeling seeping away, replaced by ignorant bliss.
"Come on, Harry!" a redhead had scrambled to his feet and was in Harry's field of vision now. He had a long stick made of a light-colored wood in his hand, and was turning to Voldemort and saying in an echoing voice, "Let him go! Or I'll."
"You'll what, Weasley?" Voldemort asked amusedly. "Fight me?" the circle of Death Eaters laughed in unison.
"A-Avada Kedavra!" Ron stuttered. Voldemort easily dodged this and stepped closer to Ron.
"One more chance, Weasley. Then you get to join the precious two up there."
"Not a chance, V-v-Voldemort," Ron stumbled backward.
"Afraid to say my name? Potter isn't. See where he is now?"
"Lacarnum Inflamare!" Ron bellowed, his wand pointed at Voldemort's robes. A piercing blue flame erupted on Voldemort's robes, causing him to yell, "you stupid boy!" and thrash his robes in attempt of putting the fire out. Several Death Eaters rushed to his aid, but he bellowed, "Get the boy, you fools!"
Harry did not care what happened to Ron. To his side, he could hear Hermione yelling his name.
"Harry! Come on, Harry! Snap out of it! Please, Harry! Ron's in trouble! We can't do anything. You're the one who has to help us so we can help you! Fight it, Harry! Wake up!"
What's the use? Harry thought lazily to himself.
"Harry!" Hermione pleaded. "Harry, come on! Come back! For Ron! For me! Because I love you!"