A/N: Well, now that all the dust has settled, and Portkey is working again, I figure it is safe to add another chapter! So here you are, fresh from the computer, a new chapter for you to read. I will warn you now; you may not like the cliffhanger, NO! Don't scroll to the bottom! You have to read it! :D
I would like to take a moment to apologize to all those faithful readers who left me a review that I didn't answer. I lost over 40 reviews, and didn't get them back. If you leave a review for the past chapters, I will respond, I promise!
And now, on with the show!
Chapter 55
Harry Potter. How Nice Of You To Drop By
Harry walked along the darkened streets of Hogsmeade towards the castle. He could hear the rustle of the capes behind him, but he still felt incredibly alone. As he approached the gate, he could see figures in the shadows. He stopped in the middle of the road and waited until they recognized him. He could hear furious whispers and then the gate opened.
"Stay where you are!" someone called, and Harry thought it sounded like Crabbe.
Four figures came out, and in the dim light, Harry could see wands drawn.
"Good luck," he heard Neville whisper as he brushed past him.
Harry wished he could say the same, but the sentries were close enough to him now that they might hear him. As the four came closer, Harry could see that it was indeed Crabbe and Goyle, with their two fathers.
"Are you alone?" Crabbe asked as he pointed his wand at Harry.
Harry crossed his arms in a show of annoyance.
"Can you see anyone else with me?" he asked.
Goyle punched Crabbe in the arm.
"Stop asking stupid questions," he said.
"I was just following orders," Crabbe said. "He said to make sure Potter was alone."
Goyle rolled his eyes.
"Come on," he said as he waved his wand at Harry. "Lets go. They're waiting for you."
As Harry walked towards the castle with his guards, he worked on clearing all thoughts and emotions from his head. He knew what would be waiting for him, and he wanted to be as prepared as possible.
He walked up the front steps, and he suddenly felt like he was walking to his death. He stopped in front of the big doors and took a deep breath, which earned him a poke in the back.
"Get a move on," grunted Crabbe's father.
Harry pushed the door open, and the sound of raucous laughter could be heard from the great hall.
Crabbe and Goyle were taking turns prodding him, and it took all of his restraint to not turn and hex them. They had forgotten about his wand, and he was hoping to keep it that way.
As they came through the doorway and began to walk towards the front of the hall, the laughter died down. Harry looked around for the first time, and stumbled to a stop at what he saw. He had just walked into his nightmare. He could see the cages, full of people, against the wall on the far side of the room, and as his eyes were involuntarily drawn to the front, he saw his friends for the first time. He felt his stomach lurch as his eyes roamed over each one. He could tell Ginny had been crying, and Ron seemed to be unconscious, but when his eyes fell upon Hermione, the great beast in him roared to life at the pain he saw in her eyes. He suddenly understood the sacrifice his father made for his mother. He was more than willing to sacrifice his life if it meant that Hermione would live.
He started towards them, when movement to their left caught his eye. Voldemort had been sitting at the table, and he rose as Harry stopped at the bottom of the dais.
"Harry Potter. How nice of you to drop by," he said smoothly as a few people snickered.
Harry's four escorts had caught up to him, and Harry stepped back, whipped out his wand, grabbed Crabbe around the throat, and pointed his wand at his head. Crabbe struggled against him, eyes bulging, but all the training and hard work had made Harry stronger.
"Give Ron the antidote. Now," he demanded.
Voldemort stared at him for a moment before moving to sit in his chair.
"Tsk, tsk. Such theatrics," he said lazily.
Harry pointed his wand at Goyle.
"Stupefy!" he said, and Goyle collapsed.
Voldemort frowned in annoyance.
"The next time, I won't be so nice," Harry said as he pointed his wand at Crabbe.
Voldemort sat and stared at Harry, studying him.
"Now, you see, Harry, I don't believe that you could actually do much more harm. You don't have it in you, and frankly, I don't care if you kill him. However," he said with a lazy wave of his hand, "I did make a promise. Give the antidote, even if I think you are only delaying the inevitable."
Harry watched as Snape forced the contents of a glass vial down Ron's throat, and he had to tamper down the desire to hex the potions master where he stood. Ron coughed and sputtered, and as he slowly lifted his head to look around, Harry relaxed in relief. As he let his guard down, Goyle senior grabbed his wand from behind and Crabbe pulled himself away. Harry mentally berated himself as he watched Goyle senior put his wand in Voldemort's hands. Voldemort held it up in front of him, and then snapped it in two.
"Oops," he smirked as he dropped the pieces. "How clumsy of me."
The Death Eaters laughed as Harry watched his trusted companion for the last seven years bounce on the floor, it's last few sparks sputtering weakly, and then dying.
Voldemort turned to Crabbe senior and frowned at him.
"Your son is useless," he said.
"Sorry," grunted Crabbe senior.
"I have no use for stupidity," Voldemort said as he pointed his wand at Crabbe. "Avada Kedavra!"
Crabbe fell backwards, his face a death mask of shock.
"Avada Kedevra!" Voldemort said again as he pointed his wand at Crabbe senior, who died next to his son.
"You," Voldemort said as he pointed his wand at a quivering Goyle senior, "have redeemed yourself, for now. Get your son out of my sight, and make sure he understands his friend's stupidity."
Harry watched in amazement and shock as the bodies and the Goyles were removed from the room.
"And now," Voldemort said as he caressed his wand, "we say farewell to Mr. Potter."
"My…my Lord?" Pettigrew said as he stumbled forward.
Harry frowned. It had looked like he had been pushed, but when he looked to where he had been standing beside Snape, the potions teacher just glared at him.
Voldemort sighed impatiently and lowered his wand. "What is it Wormtail? Can't you see I'm busy?"
Pettigrew glanced quickly at Harry, and then bowed to the Dark Lord.
"Sorry…sorry. I just thought that, since your entertainment had been interrupted, and, well…Harry Potter has caused you a lot of trouble, perhaps he could…entertain you?"
Voldemort pondered this for a moment, tapping his cheek with his finger.
"Exactly what did you have in mind?" he asked.
Pettigrew glanced nervously at Snape.
"A dueling match, perhaps?" he squeaked.
"Really? Do you think you could beat him?" Voldemort asked, amused.
Pettigrew's eyes went wide.
"Me? No…no sir! We… I was thinking of another contender."
"And who might that be?" Voldemort asked.
"Draco Malfoy," he said quietly after a moment.
The Death Eaters erupted into laughter again until Voldemort cut them off with a wave of his hand. Draco, for his part, cast a glance at Snape, before patting his mother's hand in assurance.
`What's going on here?' Harry thought.
"And how are they going to duel? Poor Mr. Potter's wand is broken," Voldemort asked.
"How about…swords, my Lord?" Pettigrew said.
"Hmm, intriguing. Set it up, Wormtail. We shall be entertained."
Draco unhooked his robe and went to stand by Voldemort, his eyes on Harry.
Harry though, was watching Snape. He still didn't trust him, and almost expected to see a dagger for him verses a sword for Draco.
As Wormtail came running back with two rapiers, he tripped, and the swords clattered to the ground. Snape, who had been standing nearby, stooped to pick up a sword, and after running a hand down the blade, handed it to Draco.
"Do try to be careful," Snape said as Wormtail scrambled to give the other sword to Harry.
"My Wizarding debt has been paid," Pettigrew muttered under his breath as he handed the sword over.
Harry stared at him in confusion, but Pettigrew only bobbed his head and moved back. He looked at his sword, trying to figure a way out of this mess. When he looked up, Draco was staring at him.
"Scared, Potter?" he asked with a smirk. Draco began to swing the blade in a series of figure eights as he tested the heft and balance of the blade. He increased the speed until the sword sang through the air.
"Great," Harry thought, "the Malfoys maintained a dueling tradition." Harry held his sword up in front of him, as old memories came back. The last time the two of them faced off, they were dueling in front of the students of Hogwarts.
"You wish," he replied.
Several minutes passed as the two wizards remained staring at each other, as if waiting for some proper, as yet unspoken signal. Harry spared a glance at the cages. The Death Eaters were being pulled away, curious about the impending fight. He needed to stall…
With incredible swiftness Draco lunged at him. In his surprise, Harry barely blocked the stab, riposting with a counter slash that Draco parried. The attack continued, and Harry parried again and again, using the opportunity to move around Draco. They continued to trade blows, the metal clanging ominously, with Harry backing away from the cages, pulling his audience with him. The jeers, laughter, and catcalls were becoming deafening, but Harry didn't care; it was hiding the activity going on behind the cages. He saw McGonagall disappear under the cloak, and then watched as the polyjuiced McGonagall stood up in the cage. It was only a matter of time now…
Draco took advantage of his momentary distraction to bring his sword over and down. Harry somehow managed to deflect the sweeping blow. In return, he slashed with such power that he turned in a complete circle.
"Looking for somewhere to run?" Draco taunted as he lashed out at Harry.
"As if I had a reason to run from you," Harry said. "You're a Death Eater puppet. Just like your father."
Draco flushed in anger and once again he lunged forward, feinting, and then slashing in a deadly downward arc with the sword. . Harry caught the stroke with his blade, but the power of Draco's attack forced the point of his rapier down. The blades rang as Draco's sword slid down his opponent's. Malfoy rolled his wrist as his sword dropped off the point of Harry's. With blinding speed he reversed the direction of his slash and cut Harry across his thigh. The Gryffindor looked down to see a rapidly growing blood stain on his robes. Draco smiled in triumph.
Harry blinked once, shook his head, and tried to clear his eyes, which had begun to water with the pain. Sweat beaded up on his forehead, and his eyelids fluttered again, his body suddenly feeling heavy.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Had enough?" Draco sneered, and the crowd laughed.
Harry held his sword in front of him, trying to focus on Draco. What was wrong with him? He vaguely wondered how much blood he could afford to lose.
He feigned an attack, then sidestepped and slashed at Draco. Draco parried the blade and lunged forward. Harry stepped aside in the nick of time, but Draco kept coming after him, making him stumble back. Draco caught him again on his arm, which caused him to lose his concentration once more. It was getting harder to focus, and Harry was having a difficult time making his body do what he wanted it to do. He took a wild swing at Draco, who just sidestepped, and ended up behind Harry, the sword held across his neck. He began to slowly apply pressure to Harry's windpipe. Harry gasped and tried to push his arm away, but with his strength failing, it was getting harder to do. He could hear the jeering laughter, running through the haze in his head, and above it all, Hermione's cries, begging them to stop.
Harry felt his heart lurch at the sound of her voice, and his eyes involuntarily sought her out. She was crying now, and Harry struggled, wanting to get to her, to ease her pain. Nothing else mattered.
"Hermione," he whispered brokenly. He didn't want this to be the last thing he saw.
The blackness was closing in on him, and he collapsed to his knees. He could hear Draco's labored breathing behind him.
"Do you trust me?" he whispered into Harry's ear.
"I will never trust you," Harry gasped.
"Well then, at least that will make this a whole lot easier," Draco said. "Say goodbye, Potter."
The sword slipped from Harry's hand to clatter to the floor as the last of his strength left him.
"Hermione," Harry whispered again, as his eyes fluttered closed.
He couldn't breathe anymore, there was nothing left that he could do; his body had nothing left to give. The last thing he heard as he collapsed on the floor was a woman's scream, but it wasn't his mother's this time, it was Hermione's.
Draco stood over Harry's lifeless body, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Snape came forward and rolled the body over and checked for a pulse.
Snape swallowed hard before looking up. His eyes darted to Draco before settling on Voldemort's face.
"He's dead, my Lord," he said.
-->