Chapter Thirty-Six
BLOOD
Author's Note: Having trouble uploading this one. I think it might be too long. Part two of two.
* * *
Harry was having trouble wrapping his mind around Krum's words. "Sorceresses? You mean witches?" he interjected, hoping that the Death Eater would elaborate, but all Krum did was glare.
"Master knew immediately that it vos Hermy-own-ninny that possessed the book," Krum continued. "Ve needed that book, so it vos not long before ve sent Master Marks after her. He attacked you-vere vos it again? The starivell that time?" He shrugged. "It does not matter-ve soon had the book of vards at our disposal. After securing these quarters beneath the castle once more, ve started to examine the protection barriers-but that project took the backseat to another."
"Azkaban," Hermione whispered.
Krum chuckled. "Thrilling, is it not?" he asked. "You are beginning to get my thoughts, as I long did yours. You enjoy it-as did I. I am not sure how I feel about that." He stepped forward, circling Hermione. Harry's breath caught as he laid a hand on her shoulder. She had trembled, but only once-it seemed as though she had adopted the boys' attitudes about giving him as little satisfaction as possible. It scared him almost more than her vulnerability had, but Harry couldn't help but be proud of her too. "Vell... actually, I do not like that."
The Death Eater slapped her-so hard that Harry could see the handprint on her face in the dark, from across the room. That was all it took. Anger surged through Harry-not enough to knock Krum nearly unconscious like earlier, but enough to send him stumbling backwards, away from Hermione. He dropped to his knees, howling, and Harry realized that he had also managed to give the Death Eater boils. One hand covering his face, his other arm flailed about until he managed to reach his pocket. He staggered forward, and it was Harry's turn to suffer-Krum had pulled his knife from earlier back out and driven it into the boy's leg.
"Azkaban," Krum choked, boils still covering his face. He took his time charming them away before yanking the knife from Harry. If possible, it seemed that it hurt more on exit than entry. Harry moved his hand automatically to the wound, pressing as hard as he could to stop the bleeding. "Next, ve raided Azkaban."
* * *
Azkaban Fortress
North Sea-April 23, 1996
"Secure the boats!" the Dark Lord shouted, but none of his servants heard him over the wind howling and waves crashing against the shore. It was entirely the wrong evening to storm the island fortress, but he had been insistent about coming any way. When his most trusted Death Eaters had pleaded with him to wait for the squall to pass, it had only encouraged him more. He was starting to agree, but he would never admit his wrong. It was a sign of weakness. "Can't anyone hear me? SECURE THE BOATS!"
"Master, ve cannot hold them back much longer!" Krum shouted from his right, referring to the dementors that they were battling. Scattered between the droves of dueling Death Eaters were fallen Death Eaters-the dementors had sucked their souls. "Ve must-"
"Forget it, Krum!" Voldemort shot back, conjuring a snake-like Patronus. "They are our natural allies! If we can just break their ranks and reach the prison, then Travers will have time enough to complete the ritual! They will come willingly with us! Now-SECURE THE BOATS!"
Krum did as he was told just as the Dark Lord had to jump out of the way to avoid a Killing Curse thrown by one of his own. He gritted his teeth in frustration, considering that it had come after his explication that such a curse would be ineffective on the dementors. He worried around to see one of his servants cowering several meters away.
"Master, I only meant-"
Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Avada Kedavra!" he bellowed, and the man's eyes rolled back in his head as the jet of green light hit him. That was enough for the Dark Lord. Hand-to-hand combat with the dementors was ridiculous, as was waiting for Travers. "Poneré!"
The eruption of noise and light that followed closely rivaled the storm that raged around the tiny island. The Dark Lord smiled, as he had always loved such chaos. He prided himself on remembering that particular incantation. It would reveal the true alliances of anyone in range enough to hear the noise, causing them to fight truly. The effect of the spell was instantaneous-the dementors stopped battling the Death Eaters at once and glided towards the fortress in the island's center. The magical barriers holding the prisoners dissolved.
"Release Dolohov!" Voldemort shouted. "Get all three Lestranges! Bring me Rookwood, Harker, Kirschbaum, Jellico, Leaderman, Livesley-" he rattled off one name after another, almost a hundred in total "-and Holtz! Kill all the others!"
The Dark Lord watched in satisfaction as his servants scurried off behind the dementors. His favorite thing in the world was to watch others hang onto his every word, though he would never admit that either. It was just tacky. He folded his arms across his chest as the beach cleared, the other Death Eaters much closer to the fortress. Soon, he was joined by Krum, who was panting.
"The boats are secure?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes," said Krum. "Master, did Travers's spell take effect?"
"I tired of waiting," said the Dark Lord. "I wanted to do it this way in the first place, you know, but he insisted on that fool ritual."
"Master, I thought that ve had a better chance of controlling the dementors in the future should we do it as he said," Krum responded.
"We'll deal with the dementors when the time comes," said Voldemort. He shot the young Bulgarian a look that clearly said the conversation was over. His focus once again on the fortress, he began smiling as imprisoned Death Eater after imprisoned Death Eater came down the hill. Some were walking freely towards the boats, but the majority moved only with the aid of their healthy brethren. Augustus Rockwood passed Voldemort on his left, stumbling absently towards the boats. His eyes wild, he wasn't focused on anything in particular.
"Master," he said called. "Master! Master! Master! Master! Master-"
"Get him, Krum," said Voldemort, having to shy away from Rockwood as he dropped to the sand, pounding his fists against a head-sized rock. "Lead him to the boats."
The Dark Lord watched Krum and Rockwood depart, the older man flailing and kicking all the while. It actually pleased him to see his followers in such a state. He had during his first reign recruited many servants fresh out of Azkaban for petty crimes, and he had found their slight madness most refreshing. Insanity was a virtue, as far as he was concerned.
It took half an hour to get all the former prisoners onto the waiting boats-Voldemort had insisted traveling that way to the island, knowing full well most of them would be unable to Apparate. Krum returned to his side just as the last prisoners wandered from the fortress. "Rockwood is onboard?"
"Ve had to secure him with the manacles," said Krum hesitantly. "Is that acceptable, Master?"
"I proved them for that very purpose," said Voldemort with a smile. "We will return with the others to Scotland, and I will ask that you spend the night at the home rather than at Hogwarts. I will go with you to the school tomorrow, in time for afternoon lessons. I would hate for Miss Granger to grow complacent if relieved of the headaches and nausea for too long."
* * *
"And now our ranks are complete once more," Krum finished. He had been pacing with his hands clasped together behind his back again, which actually was keeping with his behavior all evening. New was the bloody knife laced between his fingers. "The prisoners ve freed had been contained for upvards of fourteen years. Raving lunatics, every last one. To have that unequivocal brilliance-it vos vell vorth it." Chuckling, he added, "Not to mention the dementors.
"Ve knew ven ve attacked Azkaban that there vos discontent in the Minister's Council. It is hard for vizards living their second century to take orders from a sorcerer half their age. Ve figured that they vould vote Bom out of office right then, but it seemed that they vere so fearful for vot happened that they vere villing to try even his newfangled approach to defense. Master began making threats. He vos tired of varning people-if Azkaban had not done it, he did not know vot it vould take."
"Sent Harry those pictures," Ron muttered, more quietly than some of the trio's earlier interjections. The look of pain on Harry's face probably had him playing it safe.
"Yes, Master vanted to send a-" Krum spun around suddenly. "Vot did you say?"
"Not him, me," said Harry, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. He didn't want Krum paying any more attention to his friends than necessary. "He sent me those photos, didn't he?"
"Not you," said Krum, his brow furrowed. "Dumbledore."
Now Harry was confused. "Then who sent me the photos?" he asked honestly.
"Something ve have in common," the Death Eater replied, inserting a menacing smile. "No, those photos did not come from us, though trust that ve, like you, vould like to know vere they did come from. Our target vos the headmaster all along-no living relatives, ve decided to target his oldest and closest friend-Samarus Pericle. I believe it vos his replacement, Malfoy, that actually did the honors. An injection-Black brackish, the drug he vos so outspoken against. Ve thought that made for a nice touch."
Krum clasped his hands together, in front of him this time. He stretched his arms before continuing. "Vonce ve had Malfoy in place, there vos little ve could do about the political situation but vait-ve knew that Lucius vould stir things up enough that the rest of the council vould get scared and relieve Bom of his duties, but ve knew that it vould take time.
"So ve concentrated on other tasks in the mean time. Vith full ranks, ve vere able to begin eliminating Muggles. Master's vision is very specific, and impure blood is not of the details. Ve began in Grand Harmony. An unusual number of Mudbloods haff hailed from the area in the last century, and that is most unacceptable. Our numbers that evening vere dismal, though it is my understanding that ve did manage-" Krum smiled "-to destroy one impure family."
Harry's stomach turned thinking about Mr. Finch and little Jessica. Remembering his conversation with Justin in Hogsmeade weeks before, it turned again. He figured that the dementor attack on Hogsmeade would be the next topic of conversation.
But the Death Eater surprised him. "But I am sure Potter told you all about that evening. To Master, his dreams and visions vere a bonus-Master is a fan of mental anguish." He chuckled. "And that vould be vot the two of us haff in common. Hermy-own-ninny, do remember that nightmare you had? The evening you vere so displeased vith your boys for procrastinating on their Defense essays?"
Hermione nodded, sucking in her breath as Krum settled behind her, playing with her hair. "Did it feel real, Hermy-own-ninny?" he breathed, dropping his head to whisper in her ear. "Ven vos it that you realized it vos? The next morning, in the shower, no? That vos ven you saw-" he licked his lips "-the rest of the bruises."
Harry's heart sank when Hermione averted her eyes, not understanding how the Death Eater had managed to violate her again that night, not understanding how anyone could get pleasure from something so sick and twisted. He must have worn his hurt openly, because Krum's smile widened. "And how you helped, Potter," he said. "Your invisibility cloak-I hope you do not mind my borrowing it vithout asking. After all, you had allowed it to sit in a drawer in Filch's office for days, maybe even veeks. I am sketchy on the details-you can understand, right. It is hard for me to think of anything right now, remembering the way it felt to first enter her dreams and then to enter-"
Krum was thrown across the room before he could finish his statement or say anything else equally as vulnerable. Harry couldn't explain it. He had thought he was more upset and shocked than angry. The Death Eater's eyes flashed as he picked himself up. He had his knife in his hand once more and was about half a second away from sticking Harry again when Ron spoke up.
"That was all me, you bastard," Ron said coolly. "I care about her also, or did you forget? Can't you tell that he's much closer to violently ill than angry?" He shook his head. "You make me sick."
The Death Eater sucked in, yanking the knife back and throwing it at once in Ron's direction. Fortunately, the redhead was able to shy away from it, and the knife clattered loudly against the back wall and thudded against the floor. Krum didn't retrieve it. Instead, he returned to Hermione, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I could snap her neck right now," he said, bending his knees to lower himself. He craned his neck around to look at Hermione. "But I do not think I vill. I am getting to the good parts. Do you not vant to hear the good parts?"
"Please... I can't... you're hurting me," said Hermione in lieu of a response. Harry glanced away, imagining that the Death Eater was tightening his hold on her.
"Vere haff I heard that before?" Krum hissed, and he clucked his tongue. "Right-I heard it that night, and in the forest, and vonce before in this very room. Stop pretending I do not live to hurt you." He shoved her forward as he let go of her. "Ve vere talking about vot happened as ve vaited for Bom to be removed from office, no? Vell, there vos the attack on Fenny-" he smirked as he glanced towards Ron "-vere I seem to remember blasting at your father's leg. And after Fenny-Hogsmeade."
Krum shook his head. "Ve overestimated the progress ve had made vith the dementors. Ve thought that they vere clear on the fact that you, Hermy-own-ninny, vere not to be harmed for any reason, but then their touch made you lose your powers. Bom had been removed from office, but everything else had started to slip-the Affinity of Relations, Marks. The afternoon he attacked you, Potter, out of personal vendetta rather than overall gain. Marks vos supposed to open the book for us again, then return it to me. Instead, he dropped it vere the Agouti boy vould find it and return it to you.
"After the book vos yours again, things really got out of hand. I had lost complete control of the Affinity at that point. You kept realizing things, one after another. It seemed as though it vould be our end-you even heard me curse as I realized vot vos going on. I vos almost out of your head by then, so I am sketchy on the rest of the details. You must have investigated the book of wards and somehow realized that you had been memory charmed. That realization-vell, that von I could feel. Master vos upset, to say the least, sure you vould take our secrets straight to the Headmaster.
"But ve overestimated you," the Death Eater chuckled. "You had to have closure. You sensed the urgency I had about getting to you before you could get to the headmaster, and it resonated as urgency to come down here. This encounter, it vos not planned, but it vill vork out quite nicely." He was smiling more now than he had been all evening.
"Today, ven ve raid Hogvarts, ve vill not haff to vorry about Potter attempting to save everyvon. Ve vill not have to vorry as much about Dumbledore, either-he vill be too concerned trying to find the three of you to realize vot is happening before it is too late. Ve vill destroy the school, kill the Mudbloods and most of the half-bloods, force the purebloods not yet on our side to chose. And then, because you vill be dead, Potter, Travers will be able to perform the ritual to open the gates, and Master vill haff all the power he can stand."
And Krum laughed. "Stupefy!" he shouted, whipping his wand from beneath his robes. The stunner hit Ron with tremendous force, knocking him back several feet. The redhead lie still, but the Death Eater was not finished. "Master is coming," he breathed. "He vishes to be the von that kills you, Potter, the von that puts Veasley under the Imperius Curse, the von that presents me vith Hermy-own-ninny. But since he is not here yet-"
The Death Eater howled as he had many times before that evening, lunging at Harry. He yanked the boy up from the floor and threw him into the wall. Again and again, he slammed his head into the wall, until Harry could no longer make out the stone chamber or any of its details. His mind went blank, and his unconscious body slid down the wall when Krum released his shirt front.
* * *
Harry's eyes fluttered open, his hand at once darting to the back of his head. Sure he was going to make contact with a rather large lump, he was quite confused when stopped far from where his head ought to have been. "What's going on?" he groaned, trying to sit up. No luck there either-if only if head would stop spinning. "I-"
"Shh," someone whispered, and Harry felt a hand smooth over his hair. "You didn't need to be touching the back of your head. It'll only make it worse, you know. Ron! Ron, I think Harry's coming to!"
Harry gave up trying to open his eyes, at least for the moment. He tried to focus on the footsteps he heard in the background, then on the whispering in the foreground. Someone else crouched down beside him.
"Harry! Harry! Dammit, mate. I know you must be able to hear-" Whoever was talking paused. "Actually, Hermione, I'm not sure if he can. Are you sure he said something?"
"Yes," the first voice shot back. "Harry, please. You have to wake up. You have to."
Again, Harry groaned, and the same hand as before moved to smooth over his hair. Hermione. It had to be her, and Ron. Focusing on her image, Harry forced his eyes open. Sure enough, Hermione was hovering above him. Her legs were tucked sideways beneath her, and his head seemed to be resting in her lap.
"Hi," Harry managed. Prompting Hermione to cast a scathing look over her shoulder at Ron.
"See?" she said pointedly. "How's your head, sweetie?"
Harry shut his eyes as he lifted his head from Hermione's leg. He reached back quickly, this time getting to the bump on his head before she could stop him. He winced as his fingers made contact. "Lumpy. What was I out, ten minutes?" The trio's other two minutes exchanged a look. "Ten minutes and the two of you had already started bickering?"
Ron cleared his throat. "It's actually been the better part of an hour, mate," he said, adjusting his watch on his wrist as he straightened. He extended his hand to Harry, who gave Hermione's hand a quick squeeze before grabbing hold. If the room had been spinning before, which it had, then it really began as Harry stood. "All right?"
"Fine," Harry managed. He pulled away from Ron but then had to grab for the wall with one hand. The other was already pressing against the stab wound in his leg. "An hour?"
Ron shrugged, toying with his watch again. "Well, it seems like it's been that long at least." He shook his head, holding his arm up. "He broke it earlier, and we all know yours isn't ever working, but Hermione reckons it's almost dawn."
"Dawn. Wow," said Harry. He shook his head despite it not being a good idea. Wincing again, he asked, "I get that he wanted me knocked out, but why'd he insist on actually knocking me out?"
Hermione gave him a small smile. "I guess you would have preferred getting stunned, like Ron?"
Harry squinted in Ron's direction. "You always get the Stunners," he complained.
"Yes, well, Hermione got left alone to play nursemaid," said Ron bitterly.
"Oh?" Harry wondered, breathing a sigh of relief a little too soon. When Hermione just shrugged, it worried him slightly, but he knew better than to press for more information. He pressed harder against his wounded leg, wincing more with every second that passed.
"Harry," Hermione said softly, "you should probably sit back down."
Harry didn't have the strength to argue with her, or to bat away Ron's helping hand. The redhead lowered his friend back to a sitting position, and Hermione scooted closer to him. "Hold still," she said, touching one hand to his very injured cheek. With her other hand, she grabbed a rag and a vial of clear potion from the floor next to her. Transferring a bit of the liquid to the cloth, she wiped gently at his cheek. He started to shrug away despite her instruction to hold still.
"What are you doing?" Harry demanded.
Hermione gave him a very motherly look as she wagged the vial in front of him. "It's a healing potion. Since you have the Dark Mark carved very crudely into your cheek..." she trailed off pointedly.
Harry let her touch his cheek again. "Where did you get it?" was all he wanted to know.
"Prefect's bathroom," Hermione said, shooting him an apologetic smile. "I know, I know... I said that I was fine with your healing charm, but I had found this, and it wasn't quite healed, so I grabbed it and took it with me to the washroom."
"Oh," said Harry, knowing that he should probably feel some sort of hurt over her admission, but there was none. "He carved the Dark Mark into my cheek?"
"Er," said Hermione, grimacing. "Maybe?"
Harry just shook his head. He waited for her to finish and tried standing again, very relieved when it did not inspire even half as much dizziness. "Where are we on getting out of here?"
"Well, I came out of it about twenty minutes ago, and Hermione's had me throw every opening, unlocking, and unsealing charm at it that we've learned in the last five years-and some we haven't-at it, but nothing." Ron sighed. "It's definitely that Ferm-it thing."
"Fermiat," Hermione corrected quietly but offered nothing more. Her concern of earlier gone, the stupor that replaced it was completely unlike her, even taking the situation into consideration. Harry took a deep breath, having to steady himself this time, before kneeling beside her again. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a hand she quickly covered with her own.
Yet she wouldn't turn and face him.
"You all right?" Harry said softly.
"Yes. Fine."
Harry's heart sank. Even more quietly, he replied, "You aren't all right."
"Harry, please." Suddenly she turned, knocking his hand away from her shoulder. "There actually might be another way, but I-never mind. It-you'd have to-"
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Help me up."
This time, Harry raised an eyebrow. He and Ron both moved to either side of her, neither of them really in any condition to offer assistance alone, and they each helped hall her up on one side. She stepped forward on shaky legs, running her hands across the stone wall, just as Ron had earlier.
"No. Never mind," Hermione sighed, teetering unsteadily. "Not going to work."
"What's not going to work?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"Nothing." The boys exchanged nervous glances. "Look, I thought there might be another way, but-no."
"What was it?" Ron wanted to know.
"It won't work," Hermione snapped.
Sensing a row, Harry stepped between the two of them, only to find that sudden movements still weren't such a good idea. Gritting his teeth, he put both his hands up.
"Fighting isn't going to get us out of here," said Harry cautiously.
"Neither our getting along," said Hermione softly. "We're stuck here, and there's nothing we can do to get out. Voldemort will destroy the school in a few hours, then he'll come for us. Or he'll come for us and then destroy the school. Either way-we're dead." Tears glistened in her eyes.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione?"
Needless to say, Ron had both Harry and Hermione's attention. "Come on, haven't we been in mortal peril loads of times before? We got out alive then, and we'll get out now. Or-" Ron muttered this part "-our dead bodies will eventually add something to this room's décor."
Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know what's gotten into me." She looked away, and Harry noticed for the first time the black eye she had acquired while he was unconscious. "I-I don't know."
Ron touched his chin, then nodded. "You were saying something about another way?" He glanced at Harry, who shot him an appreciative look.
"There is, but-" Hermione shook her head, shaking her hands in front of her also. "There's a privacy charm that works much like the Fermiat charm, but it's... not so easy to deactivate. It doesn't involve magic, it involves-"
"Blood." This time, Harry had the other two's attention. Hermione nodded, and Harry at once held out both of his arms, which were covered in cuts and scrapes. "So, how does it work? Do I just dribble a little bit on the wall?"
"In theory," said Hermione. "but-you'd have to shed your own... Harry, no. I'm not sure if what I have in mind will work, and I won't have you slicing yourself up until I've had a chance to consider the magical prop-"
"I really don't think we have time for that," said Harry, casting a glance at the room's back wall, which earlier experience had taught him could dissolve at any moment. He'd first pulled out his penknife, then started to replace it, then decided against it. He winced as he slid the blade across his palm. He started to put it back in his pocket and step toward the door, but Ron stopped him.
"Any chance it'd work better if we both tried?" The redhead glanced back at Hermione.
"No-you-ugh! I'm not sure if this is going to work, and you're both just-look, I was only considering that the two spells have almost the same written form, and that blood will deactivate the privacy charm because someone willing to shed blood to reveal something probably deserves to have it-"
"Works for me," Ron interrupted, and, with a shrug, he too sliced his palm open. Wearing the same grimace as Harry, he lifted his hand. "Want to test Hermione's th-" A drop of Ron's blood escaped his cut, and it had hit the wall to no effect. "Never mind."
"Reckon that leaves me. Here goes." Harry had already lost faith in Hermione's idea, but still he squeezed his hand into a fist to smear his blood about. He pressed his palm to the wall, and the wall began to move.
* * *
Much more slowly than they surely disappeared, the doors of the chamber began to reappear. The trio wasted no time. The boys were already on their feet, but Hermione had sunk back down to the floor during her explanation of the blood rite. Ron was a little steadier on his feet than Harry, so he grabbed hold of Hermione and hauled her up.
"Wands," Harry managed, despite his shock. He turned to Ron. "He's got mine, that I remember, but what happened to yours?"
"I was using Hermione's," said Ron, shrugging as he handed the thin piece of wood to Harry, who pocketed it once again. "I think I might have dropped it over there." He nodded in the direction of the room's far corner, unable to point for holding up Hermione.
"Got it-" Harry started, heading in that direction. A loud tearing noise interrupted him.
"On second thought, he probably took it with him," said Ron quickly. "I'll just... get another!"
The ringing noise Harry had first heard when he came to gone, he was now fairly certain that he was able to hear his own heart beating. Forgetting his palm was so bloody, he placed a hand on Hermione's back as the room began to shake. "Go!"
Thankfully, the doors had finished forming. Ron and Hermione stumbled through them first, and Harry pulled them shut behind him. The rumbling intensified, a mist formed, a far-off wailing began. And hadn't the door seemed somewhat wrong as well? Ignoring the pain he was in, Harry again urged his friends-and himself-forward. "Come on-we have to get out of here!"
Forget mist. The room was now enveloped by a very thick fog. They got through one room, and one more, running, moving as fast as a six-legged cluster of bodies could. One more room, but Hermione stumbled, dragging Ron down with her and causing Harry to trip.
Before the room had felt like it was spinning. Now it actually was. Great gusts of air swirled around them, making more noise than wind was ever meant to. Maybe the blood-letting wasn't the best idea. Maybe they had opened something much greater than the doors.
Maybe they were just back where they had started.
"Didn't we just leave here?" Ron muttered, picking himself up. "I mean, not more than thirty seconds ago?" He helped Harry up but didn't make a move towards Hermione until she cleared her throat. "Sorry. Forgot."
"That's all right," said Hermione primly as she was passed from Ron to Harry. He wrapped an arm around her back as she rested both her hands on his one shoulder. "I... I really don't know where it went wrong."
"Maybe it's a trick of the light," said Harry hesitantly.
"More like it's a trick of Krum's," Ron scoffed. "Hermione?"
"I just said that I didn't know," she replied. "Maybe-"
"Maybe dear Vihar was wrong." A new voice had chimed in. "Maybe you are aware of your birth rite. Maybe Dumbledore has explained to you the power running through your veins. "Maybe-" Through the fog, a pale hand of long fingers and cold skin emerged. It was attached to a long, lean body, at the top of which sat the most horrible head imaginable-bald, with a distorted face of cracked lips and scarlet eyes. Krum's master. The Dark Lord. Voldemort. "Maybe you thought you could escape."
Voldemort, more a creature than a person, had somehow materialized before him. That, Harry supposed, was a trick of the light. He knew that they had spent plenty of time with the book of wards to the castle, but he highly doubted it hand been long enough to dismantle the Apparation protection. The Dark Lord chuckled, probably at the look of surprise on Harry's face.
"Potter," he said.
Harry took a deep breath. Ignoring Hermione's tightening grasp on his shoulder, he replied, "Voldemort."
The Dark Lord's eyes flashed. "Weasley. Granger. Step away from your friend." Sensing what was to come, Harry shoved Hermione into Ron when they did not obey. He said nothing, just braced himself for the Cruciatus Curse. As Voldemort raised his wand, he tried to appear unaffected, but he couldn't help but wonder how many times one could endure the curse before his body went out or he went insane. "Nonte."
Not the Cruciatus Curse. Just as bad.
Harry's knees buckled, his breath caught. He first went numb as something bound his hands, but the icy cool sensation soon passed, replaced by fiery hot. It was as though someone was driving scorching pokers into his body. He continued choking as one hole after another was burned into his chest and stomach. Finally, the spell stopped burning his flesh, but there was more for him to endure.
Seconds later, Harry's arms were pulled out in front of him, and they were soon covered from wrist to shoulder with deep gashes. The invisible force that had grabbed his arms then dropped them, yanking his head back. He could have sworn that there was a blade at his throat then, but the sensation passed quickly. The same something as before hit him hard in the face before shoving him to the ground.
Voldemort just stepped forward and yanked the boy up, examining his handiwork. "Pity," he muttered, stepping back. "I hadn't meant to mar you so badly, but it's just so hard to find the right incantation. Now, why don't we try again? I'll even guide you through the greeting process-I will speak to you, and you will kneel and call me `Master.'" His face froze in a smile so caricature that it could have been on a child's doll. "Potter."
When Harry dropped to his knees again, it was actually in pain, not of obedience. He was twitching, sweat dripping from his brow, but he wasn't about to give in to the Dark Lord's demands. His hands again bound behind his back, he forced as much expression to his face as possible. "What... was that?" he gasped instead.
"Not going to play by my rules," said Voldemort, shaking his head. He had Ron and Hermione scrambling farther into the room's corner as he circled Harry. "But, if you must know, that was a torture charm made popular by an Asian wizard in the fourteenth century. I forget how convenient it is-binds the hands, buckles the knees, freezes the body, drives red-hot pokers into the skin, slashes, threatens, elbows... it makes torture so much easier. I can't recall how long it's been since I used it last." The corners of his mouth turned upward in smirk. "Well, when I was torturing your father to death, yes, but since...
"Now," said the Dark Lord, beginning to pace. "Krum tells me that the three of you have made real nuisances of yourself, breaking memory charms, entering our chambers, stirring things up. He's not without bruises, so he isn't too pleased, but I just don't think it has sunk in yet how much easier the three of you are making things.
"I figured that tomorrow would just be a nightmare-headaches all around, what with Potter trying to sneak people out `secret'-" he actually made air quotes at this point in the conversation "-passages to Hogsmeade, Weasley and his siblings bringing shame to purebloods everywhere, Granger-well, up until the dementors took your powers, I figured you'd run about playing nursemaid, but anymore I'm not sure.
"Three separate kills. I figured I would have to waste precious time on each of you, but not anymore. And you've even taken care of Dumbledore and many of the other able professors for me-someone will notice your absences, and soon all of Hogwarts will be engaged in your search. I'll just be able to... walk... right... in." His eyes appeared more catlike in appearance as he hung to the shadows. "Just... just imagine for a moment, how different this hour would be had you gone to Dumbledore instead. I'm sure it would have worked Vihar up so much, to receive just a glimpse of what you were doing, that our plans would have come to the girl."
The Dark Lord had left Harry wheezing in the room's center, cornering Hermione instead. He forced her against the wall and lifted her chin akin to Krum. "Coming down here," he said, shaking his head, "everyone benefits, with the exception of you three. I'll have to kill Potter, of course, and I reckon even Weasley's spirit can be destroyed with the aid of magic. Krum has asked to keep you for his own use, which I have no problem with."
Shaking his head, Voldemort continued, "I never understand that. So many of my boys have similar fixations, though usually not with any particular girl like he does. Personally, I find it a bit disturbing, very twisted, incredibly sick, but when one does work of Krum's caliber, you learn to overlook." He drew his wand, but instead of inflicting pain, he said, "Frendius."
Harry finally managed to catch his breath in time to watch the bruise around Hermione's eye fade. The Dark Lord dropped her chin, patted her shoulder, and focused on Ron. "Weasley-why do you shake in fear when Krum tells me you were more problematic earlier than even Potter? When Granger trembles less when the touch is mine rather than Krum's? Is it that you feared me years before they even knew my name?
"You don't have to fear me," Voldemort whispered. "Other purebloods look down on you, but not I. I care not for your riches-I care for your blood. I have always felt that the Weasley family's hard times were most unfortunate. Your parents might have denied the blood traditions, but I am sure you know just how pure your linage runs. Weasley, I can redeem you. I can overlook your foolhardy bravery if only you'll agree to charge at my command, not Dumbledore's." He motioned for Ron to rise. "Call me `Master' and say you'll serve me, and I'll burn the Mark into your flesh."
Both Harry and Hermione watched, horrified, as their redheaded friend did as he was told. Their was something about the Dark Lord's tone and the way he carried his wand that had made Harry realize he was working some kind of manipulating magic on Ron, but he still hadn't expect his friend to-
"Master," said Ron.
Harry's heart sank as Voldemort's thin lips stretched into a wide smile. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes-"
The redhead interrupted him by swinging a hard punch in the Dark Lord's direction. Ron's fist collided easily with Voldemort's face, and Voldemort yowled in pain. His hands flew to his face, giving Ron an opportunity to duck around him. Harry was grinning stupidly, but Hermione wasn't.
"You're going to get yourself killed," she hissed, stumbling over to where Harry kneeled still. She had a hand on his shoulder, their roles reversed as she helped Ron haul him to his feet. Hermione's attention, however, was not on Harry. She glared at Ron. "Why did you do that?"
"I think I broke something," said Ron, cringing as he rubbed his hand, ignoring Hermione completely. He glanced at Voldemort, who was still clutching his face. "Not sure if it was my hand or his jaw."
Harry couldn't stop stressing his amazement. "I thought you-"
"He's going to have to throw something worse than a Macero command to get me on his side," said Ron savagely. Hermione shot him another look. "What? I can't just know some-fine. It came up when I was researching the Belwit Curse."
"See?" said Hermione. She would have had more time to look smug if the Dark Lord hadn't chosen that moment to stop hollering and start blasting everything in sight.
"I'll kill you," Voldemort growled, advancing on Ron. His wand discharged several spells and charms, breaking apart the back wall. A ragged piece caught Ron in the face, ripping into his flesh, and a full brick discharged and almost caught Hermione in the side of the head. Startled, she lost her balance and fell before Harry could catch her. "I'll kill all three of you. It's Potter that I want, Potter that I need, but you've made me mad. You could have stood beside me, Weasley, could have joined my inner circle, and I would have let the girl live despite her disgusting heritage. Not anymore.
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted. "Stupefy! Relashio! Nonte! Serpensortia! Imperio! Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"
Magic flew around the room. Harry caught two of the four Cruciatus Curses; the other two tore apart one of the room's side walls. A fire started in the room's center, and the Ron was currently enduring the same curse of torture Harry had. Snakes slithered all about the room, and the Dark Lord began speaking Parseltongue to them. The Imperius Curse, fortunately, hit no one, but the effect it had on the room was tremendous-it began to rumble, chunks of wall falling all around them.
The back wall dissolved, and Krum rushed in, probably having heard the noise. The Death Eater took only seconds to take in the situation before raising his wand. "Finite-"
"No!" Voldemort interrupted. He continued hissing to the snakes, and they began to circle Hermione. The snake-conjuring charm seemed to be the only thing that Hermione's fall hadn't protected her from. Harry, coming out of the second round of the Cruciatus Curse, strained to make out the commands, but he was too tired. He picked himself up only to stumble backwards into the wall.
Something poked him in the back.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, drawing Hermione's wand with a shaking hand. He prayed that it would work, what with it not being his and all. But he had no reason to worry-Voldemort's wand rocketed through the air, Krum's following slightly behind. Harry caught both of them but let go almost at once. One of the two had burnt his hand. With Harry's luck, it was the one that rolled away. Not allowing himself to dwell on that thought, he stomped on the second wand. The thin piece of wood snapped cleanly in two. "Finite Incantatum!"
There was silence, but not for more than several seconds. Voldemort lunged at Harry, closing the distance between them surprisingly fast. The Boy-Who-Lived had thought perhaps the Dark Lord was still somewhat weak, considering how long Ron's punch had stalled him, but the very opposite was true. With amazing strength, he pinned Harry against the wall and plucked Hermione's wand from his hand.
"No matter what, you die," Voldemort hissed. "I was going to let you fight for your friends, however. Not anymore. I'm going to kill you, and with your own wand. Didn't you know? Brother wands? It will work just as well for me as it does for you." Harry hadn't time to correct him before he raised Hermione's wand. His lips curled upwards in smile, and Harry braced himself, hoping against hope that maybe his friends would still find a way out. "Avada Kedavra."
The green light hit Harry half a second later and reflected off him in half a second more. It shot across the room, widening its path with every inch it traveled, and hit Krum square in the chest. The Death Eater's eyes bulged. He crumbled and lie still.
Now it was Voldemort's eyes that widened. "What... Vihar?" he questioned, the pain in his voice real. He started towards the fallen Death Eater, but he didn't get farther than a step before he turned and grabbed Harry's neck. "You... what is your magic?"
Harry could hardly swallow. "Don't... know..." he choked.
The Dark Lord held up Hermione's wand with his other hand. "Your..." his eyes flashed. "Not yours. Hers. And since she won't be needing it-" He snapped her wand in one easy motion, discarding both pieces. Never relaxing his grip on Harry's throat, Voldemort yanked the boy with him as he backed up to the room's other wall. He picked up the first wand, the one that had rolled away from Harry when he dropped it, and pressed it into the boy's stomach. Harry tried to squirm away, but it was no use. "Guniet."
Voldemort backed away from Harry, and the boy slid down the wall. His hand moved automatically toward his side, only to find that there was much less flesh there than there should have been. He blinked several times, his hand smeared thick with blood when he pulled it away. Harry felt as though he had been ripped apart as the Dark Lord knelt. He grabbed at the boy's collar.
"You could have gone quietly," he said. And he stood, and he sashayed out of the room, back to where the doors Vihar had created still stood wide open. He gave the trio one last look before closing them, focused very much on the room's forward wall. "I'll be back."
Hermione was first to his side. "Oh God," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks already. "Harry?"
Ron had reached them by then, limping even more than she was. He, too, crouched beside them. "Get his shirt off," he ordered, already unbuttoning it. When that had been shed, Hermione reached gingerly for Harry's undershirt. Harry, meanwhile, did not even have the strength to fight them off.
"Oh God," Hermione repeated, and Harry found he was having trouble focusing. "He..."
"What," Harry managed then, "what did he do?"
"Guniet," Hermione whispered. "It's an incantation, like a Muggle gunshot. It... it rips into... it always..."
"Kills," Harry finished when she could not. He could feel her hands on his stomach, right above where he was wounded. He finally managed to grab one of them, giving it a tight squeeze. "Help me up," he demanded.
"What?" Hermione replied, startled. "Harry, we can't move you."
"It's not that bad," said Harry honestly. He was shaking horribly, he knew, but the pain had subsided. He knew he was losing blood; he wasn't sure how rapidly. All he knew was that he had finally managed to focus his eyes, only to see an open door. That's what Voldemort's intense last look was for. He had actually provided them a way out. "It's..."
But Harry had tried to stand on his own and gotten no where. Minutes before he had been almost prepared to die, staring down the wand Voldemort held, knowing that the Killing Curse was to come. He willed himself to think that this was no different. He batted Hermione's hands away when they moved towards his midsection this time. "The doors are open. You... you have to get out."
"We're not leaving you," said Hermione fiercely.
"No, we're not," Ron chimed in. It was only the second thing he had said since rushing to Harry's side. "I'm not going anywhere, not when-" the redhead turned his head "-it's my fault."
"What, your punch?" Harry choked. "I... enjoyed... that. You have to do... what you have to do." He could see now that his blood was everywhere. Hermione had backed away from him just enough for him to see that just trying to examine his injuries had covered her up to the elbow in it. "So... get out of here."
"We're not leaving you," Hermione repeated, more firmly this time. "Ron, hand me his other shirt, will you?"
Ron must have done as he was told, as Harry soon felt Hermione press the garment against the wound. She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "It's going to be all right," she said, but Harry had to wonder if it was really for his benefit or hers.
He managed a small smile and glanced up at her. "No it's not," he said quietly. The wave of pain that hit him earlier subsided, he was starting to feel numb all over. He found it easier to talk. "The two of you need to get out of here. I doubt... Voldemort... will linger... in there... much longer than I linger here."
"Don't talk like that," Hermione said. "You're going to be fine."
Harry just shook his head. He glanced at Ron, who was staring at him with equal parts despair and admiration. "Get her out of here."
"Harry-" Ron started.
"Do it," Harry interjected. He smiled when the redhead opened his mouth, closed it again, and nodded. "See you, Mate."
Ron stood up. He grimaced when he put weight on his one leg, but it was clear that a little pain wasn't going to stop him. He reached for Hermione's armpits to haul her up, but she squirmed away.
"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Surely you aren't serious about leaving him."
"Hermione," said Ron, glancing at Harry, who nodded. "It's what he wants."
"It's not!" she sobbed, squirming away from him for a second time. "How can it be?"
Harry's vision had been blurring for a good thirty seconds now, and he finally gave in, closing his eyes. "Hermione, he's right. It'll be easier for me if I know that the two of you made it out at least. Please?"
"No," Hermione muttered, her sobs coming in great gasps now. "Harry, I-I-" she said, grabbing for his hand. Despite wanting her to go, Harry couldn't help but take it. He tried to ignore the way her fingers settled on his wrist, right where she could feel his pulse.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry heard Ron say. "We'll just... we'll just go get help. You'll see, it'll be okay."
"No it won't!" Harry imagined she was biting her lip. "Not if... not if... Harry..." He heard her take a deep breathe, felt her lips touch his forehead once more. "I love you," she whispered.
She said something else, and so did Ron, but Harry couldn't make it out. He felt his expression change-he imagined he was smiling. The numbness had been replaced by the nicest warmth. More time passed, but he wasn't sure how much. It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but it didn't matter. He managed to squeeze Hermione's hand again. For a second, he could have sworn he felt a tinge of energy pass through him, but in the end, he slipped silently into blackness.
The Boy Who Lived had passed.
* * *
Hermione had felt Harry's pulse slow, then stop entirely, long before she had the heart to announce it to Ron. Admitting it made it real, but even then she couldn't bring herself to say that Harry had died. "He must have lost too much blood," she said in a small voice.
Ron only nodded. "Yes," he said finally, not even bothering to hide the tears escaping his own eyes. "He must have."
Wordlessly, Hermione dropped Harry's hand, leaning over his still body to kiss his forehead one last time. She tried telling herself in that moment all the things her grandmother had told her as a little girl, when her aunt died and her one grandpa and her beloved pet cat, that Harry had gone to a better place. She glanced up at Ron. "Help me," she whispered.
The redhead did as he was told, helping her up. He had to catch her even then, because her legs had started to buckle beneath her. It was odd-she could have sworn that she felt something pass through her seconds before Harry died. Apparently, though, she had mistaken exhaustion for energy. Once standing, she had to turn her head away. Ron did not.
"See him, right," he muttered. Ron shook his head. "We have to get out of here."
"Yes," said Hermione, but they lingered for another thirty or so second before heading for the double doors. Ron was helping Hermione through them when they slammed close, knocking her off her feet and him clear across the room. The doors on the other side of the room reappeared, and the Dark Lord stepped back into the chamber. He was holding onto his wrist as he stepped over Vihar's body.
"Time of death," Voldemort announced, "was 3:06." He smirked. "That is, of course, taking into account the time replacement spell I used to keep the three of you in here earlier. How does it feel now, now that the trio's down to two?"
Ron had picked himself up off the floor. "You-"
"Stupefy," the Dark Lord commanded, turning his wand on the redhead. Cut off, Ron fell over backwards. "What is that," he murmured, advancing on Hermione, "the third time tonight? The fourth? Too many Stunners will stop a person's heart, you know, and we don't want that."
Voldemort tossed her something then. "Potter's wand," he said, his voice cutting. "You can't, of course, use it, but I thought that I might-"
Sparks had flown from the wand when Hermione caught it, and something inside her snapped. She picked herself off the chamber floor and advanced on the Dark Lord, forgetting entirely how her leg hurt when she put weight on it. Her arm was shaking as she extended it, but she managed to hold firmly to Harry's wand.
"He didn't deserve to die," Hermione said angrily. She hated the way the word `die' felt coming out of her mouth, but it was the kind of hatred that drove her to get going. "Harry is a good person, and while I might not be ready to refer to him in past tense yet, I am ready to make you pay for what you did to him."
"And how do you intend to do that?" Voldemort wanted to know. He was chuckling.
"Like this," said Hermione, her voice cold. She lifted Harry's wand higher. "Crucio."
Voldemort just kept laughing. "Besides being magical, you'd have to mean-" He shrieked in pain as hit the floor, his limbs twisted around him. Hermione's arm was still shaking, but it did nothing to keep her from directing the curse to the Dark Lord.
"I mean it," she shot back, finally pulling up the wand.
"You," Voldemort hissed, glancing at her as he picked himself up off the floor, the curse having thrown him face down against the chamber. "You can't-" his eyes narrowed. "His magic. He passed his magic to you when he died."
"Since you're so hell-bent on getting his blood," Hermione said, "just be glad it wasn't that."
"You're in my way," the Dark Lord replied. "He loved you. And you loved him. And-crucio!"
Hermione felt a surge pass through her, and she dropped Harry's wand. However, the surge she felt was not the tortures of the Cruciatus Curse. With a wave of her hand, she cut the light pouring from the tip of the Dark Lord's wand. His wide eyes only widened, and she took a deep breath. That's when it hit her-she had received Harry's magic. That was the surge she had felt. More were coming now, as magic coursed through her veins once again. She waved her other hand, creating a silvery film that quickly surrounded her.
"I've read a lot of books," said Hermione, tears streaming down her cheeks, "a lot of books on every subject, including Harry. Not one of them tells me why you wanted him dead. Tonight Krum tells me that there are some gates, some stupid forgotten gates that only can be opened if Harry dies, and I've never found them in any of my books either." She stepped forward, extending one of her hands in Voldemort's direction. The gesture had him backing cowardly up. "I want to know one thing-if they're so forgotten, Voldemort, why do you know about them?"
"Magic," said the Dark Lord, trembling. "Did you ever stop to think about the origin of magic? Why there are Muggle-borns and squibs? There is another realm... a realm where magic is stored. There are gates... very old barriers that separate this world from that world. Before... before they were put up, there were no Muggles. But there's only so much magic in this world... magic is a constant, you see, and as the population grew, there was not enough to go around.
"Everyone was still magical, but as centuries passed, everyone had less power. Soon it would be that no one had any, so the forces that control such things stepped in, creating the gates and appointing a gatekeeper to dispense magic to the worthy. Several more centuries passed, with everyone at first accepting that the Keeper knew best. However, it soon became difficult for the Muggles and the Magicians to get along. The Muggles were jealous, the Magicians arrogant.
"A war broke out between the two groups. The Muggles tried to storm the gates, which at the time were still physical barriers between the realms. Most of the Magicians only cared that they would no longer be superior. A wizard artisan in Hogsmeade-the village nearest to the gates-realized that there would be much bigger problems. He single-handedly protected the gates from the Muggles, and the forces stepped in to create a new system.
"The physical gates had been destroyed, and it seemed that there was no longer an entrance to the realm. It had to still exist-after all, wizards were still being born-but people soon realized that they had no way to access it. They forgot about it, until a little more than a thousand years ago-a new establishment was being built, and some old ruins on the site caused quite a stir. Everyone knew that there was something about it, something that made magic more possible in the area.
"Then Rowena Ravenclaw-yes, the establishment was Hogwarts-managed a rough translation of the ruins. A prophecy had been written there when the gates had been destroyed. They existed, still, between the world and the realm, and could only be accessed through ritual. But in order to perform the ritual-"
"The artisan hero and his bloodline had to be destroyed," Hermione finished. She had cried all the tears she could, but one more managed to escape her. "Well congratulations. You did it. You killed Mr. Potter's family, you killed him, and you killed Harry. I guess you can perform your ritual now."
Voldemort stopped trembling. "Actually," he said. "I can."
Hermione hadn't realized that the silvery film she had put up had dissolved. She only narrowly avoided the Dark Lord when he lunged at her. She stumbled but managed to grab Harry's wand again. "Expelliarmus!"
Nothing happened.
"Pity," said Voldemort sadly. "I guess the transfer of magic was only temporary. Now, there's something else about the destruction of the Potter bloodline-the ability to protect the gates can be extended-through love. Fourteen years ago we figured that once James Potter had been killed, Lily Potter would lose the ability. I thought I could allow her to live long enough to perform the ritual, but now I know it isn't so. Had I spared her, she would have kept the ritual invalid still, and I would be that much further from the power I deserve. And, since Harry loved you-Avada," he whispered, "Kedavra."
Time seemed to stand still. In reality, the green light was moving towards her at incredible speed, but to Hermione, it seemed to go incredibly slow. She braced herself, instinctively throwing an arm up to shield her face.
The light shattered.
For a second, the room was still, but then a roar cut through the silence. Sparks of green left over from Voldemort's attempt to kill her erupted as the chamber began to spin. Hermione found herself first on her feet, then being lifted into the air. The Dark Lord began to scream as the room rotated faster and faster around them. Having trouble telling if the revolutions were real or aftereffects of the spell, Hermione began to feel nauseated.
"Potter," Voldemort hissed as he was plucked from the ground. The green light went blue, then purple, then red. With another loud explosion, the room froze, Hermione hovering a good foot off the ground and the Dark Lord caught in a whirlwind of light and noise. The light cracked, and he disappeared with it. "POTTER!"
Hermione could hear his scream long after he departed. Suddenly, the room cleared of the overhanging fog, and she was thrown onto the ground. Her landing snapped her wrist, but she was far beyond noticing the pain. She still held tightly to Harry's wand.
Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't make the other three bodies any less noticeable. Dead Krum, dead Harry. Hermione glanced across the room, praying that the same wasn't true for Ron. She knew that he had only been stunned, but she had no idea what kind of magic she had just performed or what its effects might be. She shivered, her arms still covered with Harry's blood and her clothes still torn from when Krum had knocked the boys unconscious to rape her again. She looked around the chamber for signs of life once again, but there weren't any. It was just her, alone, in the rubble.
She had thought she had cried all her tears, but it wasn't true. More came as she hugged her knees to her chest. That was when Hermione noticed the feather in the center of the room, where the tunnel of light that had consumed Voldemort had originated.
There were more pressing issues at hand, but Hermione had to know. She raised Harry's wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," she whispered.
The feather floated higher than any she had floated before.
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