Unofficial Portkey Archive

Darkness Descending by Andrewsquill

Darkness Descending


Darkness Descending

Chapter 8: Death of a lion.

They arrived back at Grimmauld Place with a soft pop and Hermione quietly led them into the house and up to Harry's bedroom. She was slightly worried about Harry because he hadn't made a single sound since his magical outburst at the Burrow.

She led him into his room and then the adjoining private bath. Once inside, she set him down on the edge of the tub before turning around and setting the invisibility cloak, the captured wands, and Ginny and Ron's wands on the countertop. With a quick tap of her wand, the tub began filling with warm water.

When she looked back at Harry, the sight that greeted her broke her heart and started her own tears flowing. He had tears streaming down his cheeks as his body shook with silent sobs. Kneeling down in front of him, Hermione gently pulled his wand out of his hand and removed his glasses before enveloping him in a hug and pulling him onto the floor with his back resting against her chest.

After a few minutes, his crying began to taper off and a strangled whisper escaped his lips, "Why? Why did they have to die?" before he began sucking in great gasps of air in a panic.

Hermione realized that Harry had never grieved for his parents either and the death of the majority of the Weasley family had just pushed him over the limit. Years of repressed emotions came pouring out in his grief and with it, she hoped, the barriers that he had built over time would be lessened.

Sniffling, Hermione whispered back so softly that he almost missed it, "Voldemort is the one to blame, Harry. Not you."

Her words of comfort were like a balm for his wounds and he allowed himself to finally relax in her embrace as the knot in his chest lessened its hold on his soul as he cried himself out.


Deep in the bowels of the Department for the Restriction on Underage Magic the Death Eater in charge had just finished putting the taboo in place in the unlikely event that someone would actually say the Dark Lord's name when the quill began scratching out an address on the parchment. Eyes wide in shock, she copied down the incomplete address, turned it into a memo, and sent it off to the snatcher dispatcher.

Mrs. Edgecombe had just finished making a list of all known blood traitors, half bloods, and muggle born witches and wizards floo addresses when the red memo landed on her desk. Grabbing the note, she quickly scanned its contents before calling out, "We need a group to head over to Grimmauld Place to apprehend someone that has spoken the Dark Lord's name."

A hulking, unkempt, and smelly man lumbered over to her desk and said gruffly, "I'll go and fetch the traitors. Just make sure my payment is ready when I get back."

"Okay." Mrs. Edgecombe squeaked in relief as the large man swept over to collect a few more men to accompany him.

"Where we goin' guv'na?" asked the tall, reedy, man in his cockney accent as they headed for the apparition point.

"Grimmauld Place. No exact address given so the house must be hidden. We'll hide in the park and wait for them to show themselves, and then we'll grab them." Thorfin growled before he disappeared with a pop.

With a shrug of his shoulders, the tall man grabbed his two comrades and followed Thorfin to Grimmauld Place with a loud pop of displaced air.


In the third floor window a small head poked out between the curtains and surveyed the park across the street. Kreacher scrunched up his face in disgust as he watched the poorly disguised wizards try to blend in with the vagrants that usually inhabited the park.

As the old elf turned away from the window, he mumbled, "Filthy wizards putting a taboo on a name and now they're bothering my master." while twisting the edges of his uniform in his gnarled fingers.

Making his way towards the basement, Kreacher's face broke out in a gap toothed grin and he began humming a disturbing tune. He had work to do before he troubled his master about the unwanted visitors.


"How long do we have'ta sit here? I'm freezing me bleedin' arse off!" grumbled the skinny snatcher as they sat disguised amongst the homeless in the park.

Turning his gaze on the whiny man, Thorfin hissed, "We'll sit here until we see some witches or wizards appear over there." while pointing at the line of row houses across the deserted street.

Confused, Miles blurted, "I don't see any wizarding homes over there."

Furious, Rowle lashed out with his ham sized fist and flattened his companion while muttering, "Surrounded by bleeding idiots." Louder, he said, "You must have been in Gryffindor."

When Miles still didn't understand, Thorfin yanked him up by his hair and turned him to face the houses across from the park while pointing to each one and counting to fourteen and waited for his moronic companion to make the connection.

It took a painstaking minute before Miles retorted, "You can't count either! You skipped the number twelve."

Disgusted, Thorfin tossed Miles to the ground, pinched the bridge of his nose while counting to ten, before whispering harshly, "Didn't you pay any attention during charms?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued ranting, "I skipped the number twelve because it's magically hidden. When you are concentrating on the houses, you are forced to skip the one hidden by magical means."

"Oh." Miles said dumbly from his seat in the dirt before the confused look returned to his face and he said, "I don't get it."

"Unbelievable." Rowle muttered before pointing at the houses and saying sharply, "Your job is to watch between number ten and fourteen. If you see anything remotely odd, give a shout." When Miles continued to look up at him in confusion, he barked angrily, "Watch the area between house ten and fourteen!"

Miles gulped nervously and squeaked, "Okay." before turning his attention to the row of townhomes across from the park trying desperately to ignore Rowle's mutterings about `must not kill the help.'


Harry had finally calmed down and was idly tracing his fingers up and down the length of Hermione's forearm and down to the back of her hand while his other hand was caressing her left knee in a similar fashion. He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't even know what his hands were doing, let alone what affect his ministrations were having on Hermione.

She was slowly being driven to distraction by Harry's touch as she held him against her body. Tentatively, she leaned her head forward and placed a tender kiss on his neck just below his right ear. Harry stiffened momentarily before he relaxed back into her embrace and tilted his head to the side to allow her better access to his neck. Encouraged by his response, Hermione began trailing kisses, and the occasional nips with her teeth, down towards his collar bone which elicited a moan of pleasure from Harry.

Emboldened by his response, Hermione slowly lifted her arms free while continuing to kiss and suckle on his neck and started to unbutton his shirt. Harry's other hand migrated to her other leg and he began rubbing her legs slowly from ankle to knee. He paused for a moment to remove her shoes and socks and then ran his hands up the inside of her pants, lightly dragging his fingernails across her calves as he slid his hands up her silky smooth legs.

Hermione's breath had quickened and her body began to burn with desire as Harry's surprisingly gentle fingers on her bare skin made her fumble with the last few buttons on his shirt. Her task finally complete, she slowly dragged her palms up his exposed chest all the while enjoying the feel of his muscles rippling beneath her fingers as she explored his body.

Harry's breathing was heavy with desire and when Hermione unbuttoned his belt and trousers, he spun around onto his knees and captured her mouth in a heated kiss while pulling her tight against his body and onto his lap. Slowly, he snaked his hands beneath her jumper and began to slowly rub them up and down the length of her back.

When Hermione ground her hips against his, Harry groaned in pleasure, grasped her bum and pulled her even harder to him causing her to moan into his mouth with pleasure. Breaking contact briefly, he pulled Hermione's jumper off before shrugging his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and pulling her back to him. Her bra followed suit shortly afterwards and the feeling of her bare breasts against his chest nearly drove Harry over the edge.

Burning with desire, Hermione dragged Harry up to a standing position and tugged his pants down while he was fumbling with her belt. She leaned back from his lips slightly and could see his desire burning in the emerald pools of his eyes. Gently, she grasped him with one hand while kicking her jeans off and stepping backwards into the tub while pulling him in after her.

She guided him down into the warm water so his back was against the side and straddled his hips. Rocking forward slightly, she gazed into his shining eyes and whispered, "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Hermione." He whispered back while looking into her eyes as he pulled her into his arms.

Hermione steadied herself by placing her hands on Harry's shoulder and slowly slid down the length of him until their hips met, her eyes never leaving his rapidly widening ones. Shuddering with the pleasure and pain, she leaned forward and kissed Harry tenderly while she adjusted to the new sensations.

Harry's eyes were wide in wonder as he looked into her cinnamon colored eyes and he didn't even try to stop the moan that escaped from his throat when Hermione had impaled herself upon him. Breaking the kiss, Harry slowly pulled her into a hug while burying his face in her hair as he moaned in pleasure again. After a few moments, he leaned back slightly and asked tenderly, "Are you okay?"

Nodding her head, Hermione answered softly, "Yes." before kissing him deeply while pouring all of her love, and magic, into the kiss.

Feeling her magic reach out to him, Harry responded in kind, the images from his dreams about Hermione were at the forefront of his mind, fueling his magic and love for her.

As their magic mixed they both felt complete, even more so than when their wands chose them. Looking into each other's eyes, they both said at the same time, "I love you."


Voldemort was resting in the Malfoy's parlor when his mental defenses were assaulted with such ferocity that he had to bite back a groan of discomfort. With a tremendous effort, he schooled his features into a blank mask and hissed menacingly, "Leave me, I wish to be alone."

The Death Eaters present didn't even bat an eye at their master's command. Instead, they hastily made their way to other parts of the mansion lest they incur their master's wrath.

Once he was alone, Voldemort warded the room to prevent any outside disturbances before sinking down onto the couch with a grimace while snarling, "Get out of my head, Potter."

To his shock, he found that no matter how hard he tried, Voldemort could not throw Potter of his mind. To make matters worse, the boy wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He was unable to stem the tide of foreign emotions pouring into him through their connection and for the first time in decades Voldemort felt a flicker of fear.

Finally, around four in the morning the stifling emotions from Potter stopped and he felt the boy's presence leaving his mind. Concentrating hard, Voldemort began to shore up his mental defenses while preparing to return the favor in spades.


Hours later, the young couple was asleep in the master bedroom recovering from the day's events and their evening of love making. The early rays of sunlight were just starting to filter through the drapes in the room, bathing everything with a golden hue.

Harry slowly cracked open his eyes, he had never been able to sleep much past dawn due to his upbringing, and was greeted by a site that he hoped to see for the rest of his life. Hermione had her head on his chest while their legs were intertwined.

Silently, he watched the most important person in the world to him sleeping soundly. The sunlight was giving her hair a golden hue, almost like spun honey, and her face was cast into a light shadow. Squeezing her slightly to his chest, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "Thank you."

Not wanting to wake her, Harry slipped into a light meditative trance and began practicing what little occlumency that he knew. He lost all sense of time as he focused inward, trying to reach his center, when he was assaulted by the presence of another in his mind.


In a dingy alley in Surrey, not too far from Privet Drive, Severus Snape had just put Mundungus Fletcher under the Imperius Curse. Looking at the not too different from normal expression on his victim's face, Snape sneered in disgust before whispering in his silky voice, "You will suggest to Mad-Eye that when they go to fetch the boy that Potter leave his relative's house using polyjuice to disguise him as someone else. If Moody doesn't agree to that, then suggest having six or seven people use polyjuice to impersonate Potter instead."

Fletcher gave a nod of understanding before heading to the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Severus watched the drunken fool leave to carry out his orders before disappearing with a much softer pop.

The smell of stale tobacco and alcohol lingered in the alley long after both of its occupants had disappeared.


Mundungus stumbled his way up to the front door of Mad-Eye's house for the meeting of the Order. Just as he was about to knock, he was yanked inside and held at wand point by the grizzled old retired auror.

Staring cross eyed at the wand pointed between his eyes, Fletcher blurted, "Blimey, Mad-Eye! Point that thing somewhere else would ya'?"

His wand didn't move an inch as he checked over the last member of the Order to arrive for the meeting. Moody's electric blue eye was spinning in every direction while his normal one was fixed on Dung. After a few moments he growled, "What kept you?"

"I was checking on the Potter boy!" Fletcher blurted fearfully as sweat trickled down the back of his neck adding to the fear of being held at wand point by a crazy, curse happy, old nutter.

Satisfied, Moody shoved Mundungus towards the parlor where the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix were gathered to go over the plans to fetch Harry Potter.

"Okay. Let's get down to business." Moody rumbled in his sandpaper voice as he eased himself into a chair while his electric blue eye spun in all directions. "Right now, we have just a few days left before the protections that Dumbledore placed at the Dursleys fail." Satisfied that everyone was paying attention to the matter at hand, he continued, "The issues we face are when to remove Potter and how. Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Various ideas were tossed about for fifteen minutes until Dung put forth the first of Snape's ideas. "Why don't we just slip Potter some polyjuice and have him walk out the front door?"

Bedlam ensued for the next ten minutes as the pros and cons of Fletcher's suggestion were debated loudly. Eventually, Mad-Eye had decided that they had argued enough and yelled, "All right, enough with yer yammering! We need to get the boy out of there and this is the best way. I want twelve volunteers to meet here tomorrow evening for a check before we go and get the lad."

As people began to filter out of Mad-Eye's house, not a single member of the Order realized that Moody hadn't actually said which plan they were going with before departing to complete their part in the preparations. Finally, it was just Minerva, Remus, Hestia, Diggle, Kingsley, Tonks, and Moody left and they all switched to the parlor to be more comfortable.

Not one for beating around the bush, Moody grumbled in his scratchy voice, "Okay. Now tell me what really happened at the Weasley home last night."

Kingsley actually managed to turn a slightly darker brown as the blush crept up his face while he mumbled out, "I don't know, I was stunned and lost my wand while I was sneaking up on whoever was holding Hestia hostage."

Shackelbolt's statement was enough of a shock to cause both of Moody's eyes to focus on him at the same time. After fifteen uncomfortable seconds, Moody shifted his gaze to Hestia and gruffly said, "Well lass, out with it. How did your attacker get the drop on you?"

Hestia turned towards Diggle and glared at him while snarling, "This idiot doesn't know the meaning of quiet. He yelled out that he had found some bodies and before I knew it, my wand arm was wrenched up behind my back and a wand tip was pressed into my neck as my wand disappeared before my eyes."

Diggle rubbed the back of his sweaty neck with a kerchief before hastily stuffing it back into a pocket and blurting, "I keep telling you that I'm sorry!" while looking at the sling that was supporting Hestia's shoulder. Fidgeting in his seat at all of the attention, he further babbled, "I never saw where the bloke that grabbed you was hiding though. He just appeared and before I could do anything, I took a stunner to the face."

Jones continued to glare at her comrade while he fiddled with the hem of her robes. She was angry that someone had gotten the drop on her, or could have killed her, due to her partner's carelessness and her own inattentiveness. Hestia realized that the minute Diggle shouted she should have moved for cover.

Reviewing the memory of the incident in his mind, Remus said softly, "It had to be Harry with Hermione under his invisibility cloak. Harry never fired a spell or the ministry would have come crashing down on our position in droves."

"Tha's all well an' good, Remus," Minerva barked in her thick Scottish brogue before continuing, "but how did those two end up there in the first place? I though' we had a watch on his relative's house?"

"We did." growled Moody angrily. "It was supposed to be Dung." After a few minutes of silence while everyone contemplated what had happened, he continued, "I think it's safe to say, that whatever Dung was involved in should be considered compromised as well as his suggestion for retrieving the Potter boy."

While the group tried to figure out everything that Mundungus was involved in, Moody and Kingsley were working on what kind of trap to spring on the Death Eaters that were probably going to be laying in wait when they used Dung's plan.


"Harry Potter." Voldemort hissed as he made his presence known inside the mind of his prophesized nemesis. "I'm going to make your suffering legendary before I finally kill you for what you have done."

His muscles tensed immediately when Voldemort invaded his mind and his grip on Hermione tightened so much that she woke up suddenly.

Recognizing the signs, Hermione realized that Harry was locked in some type of mental connection with Voldemort. Climbing on top of him, she straddled him and grasped his cheeks gently in her hands while leaning down and kissing him tenderly.

Feeling calmer and in more control all of a sudden, Harry replied harshly, "I don't think so, Tom. I'm going to kill all of your followers before I even come for you. People are going to think of the half-blood Tom Riddle and laugh at his made up name by the time I'm finished with you."

Harry could sense the rage building in Tom but before he could do anything, Harry roughly shoved him from his mind and opened his eyes to find Hermione's brilliant orbs inches from his. Smiling up at her, he said warmly, "Thank you. I was able to push Tom out with your help."

Hermione smiled beautifully at Harry while grinding her hips into his. When Harry moaned, she whispered huskily into his ear, "Why don't we give him further incentives to stay out of your mind then?"

Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Harry smiled and rolled Hermione onto her back and whispered, "As you wish." before planting a soft kiss just behind her ear that he knew turned her knees to jelly.

Sensing his master's mood, Kreacher put warming charms on breakfast and returned to his preparations in the basement.


Voldemort slumped into the wing backed chair and rubbed his temples trying to relieve the headache that the Potter boy had just given him. In a fit of rage, he whipped up his wand and wordlessly disintegrated the large couch by the fire before turning his wrath on the remaining furniture in the room.

His anger quenched, Voldemort looked around at the destruction and calmly waved his wand in an arc causing the damaged furniture to repair itself. Satisfied with his spell work, he got up from his seat and headed towards the kitchen for a spot bangers and mash for breakfast. Hopefully, the food would take his mind off his recent troubles with Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die.


Rufus Scrimgeour, the newly elected Minister of Magic, was sitting alone in his office nursing a fire whiskey while mulling over the Harry Potter problem. He needed the boy to help his administration look like they were being proactive in the fight against You-Know-Who but the boy was being surprisingly adamant in his refusal to help.

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door that startled him from his revelry. Rufus glanced up at the clock on the mantle and was surprised to find that it was already early morning. Since taking the job of Minister, he had been working sixteen hour days and sleeping in his office.

Sleep had eluded him last night while he was trying to formulate a plan to gain Harry Potter's help and do the most damage to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his quickly growing number of followers in the ministry.

Tossing back the last of his whiskey, Scrimgeour belched out a three foot flame before calling out hoarsely, "Come in."

When the door opened, in walked the newly promoted Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pius Thicknesse and one of his other aurors whose name Rufus couldn't remember. The Minister waved Pius into a seat while the auror took up a standing position by the wall off the side of the desk.

"Good morning, Pius. What progress have you made towards getting the Potter boy to help us?" Scrimgeour asked genially once his underling was seated.

Thicknesse's deep voice seemed to shake the desk as he replied, "I have, sir. Last night, I was finally able to place wards all around the boy's residence that will alert us if anyone enters or leaves the property that is not approved by me."

A bit shocked at the underhanded, not to mention patently illegal, methods is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was willing to go to secure Potter's help, Rufus asked, "And how do you plan on tracking the boy if he leaves the property, hypothetically speaking of course?"

"Well, we are going to have a large contingent of people stationed around the property on the ground and in the air." Thicknesse answered while covertly drawing his wand from his robes.

Alarm bells were ringing in Rufus' head at Pius' proclamation but he was prevented from going for his wand when the auror stationed off to the side of the desk immobilized him with a flick of his wand.

When the body bind took effect, Scrimgeour's body stiffened like a plank and he fell from his chair with a thump, cracking his head on his desk on the way down. His vision was obscured by the blood flowing into his eyes as he lay motionless on the floor behind his desk.

Auror Dawlish walked around the desk and with another swish of his wand he levitated the petrified minister into the middle of the room before dropping him unceremoniously back to the floor. With a quick jab towards the body on the floor, thick ropes shot out of his wand and bound the Minister's hands and feet before stepping back a few paces and releasing the body bind spell.

Rufus let out a groan of pain as he rolled onto his side so he could see his assailants. Taking a closer look at the pair, he recognized the signs of the Imperious Curse in both men. "Well." he growled angrily, "Get it over with you bloody weak minded fools."

Thickness looked down at the soon to be dead Minister and turned to Dawlish and said, "Do it."

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Dawlish while pointing his wand at the helpless man on the floor.

Just as the jet of green light snuffed out the life of The Minister of Magic, Thickness pointed his wand at Dawlish and shouted, "You traitor! You killed the Minister!" With a quick slashing motion of his wand, Thickness removed the auror's head with a severing curse and then vanished the ropes binding Scrimgeour.

Delores Umbridge was in the office down the hall when she heard the shouts coming from the Minister's office. As quick as her bulk would allow, she waddled down the hall and straight into a nightmare. There was blood all over the ceiling, walls, and the carpet from the headless corpse on the ground. Pius Thicknesse was standing with his wand drawn and a look of utter sorrow on his face.

Stumbling over to the tall man, she screamed, "What happened here?"

Delores' screams alerted the other witches and wizards that were at the office early and they came running to investigate. As the crowd at the door grew, Pius turned to face everyone and said gravely, "The Minister has been murdered." There were a few gasps from the crowd and a few gagging sounds as people took in the horrible scene in front of them.

"Then whose body is on the ground over there?" shouted one of the secretaries before covering her mouth in horror.

Thicknesse turned to face the growing crowd, his wand still drawn as if in defense of the fallen, and said solemnly, "That was Auror John Dawlish. I entered the room just as he cast the Killing Curse on the Minister." Ignoring the gasps, he continued with a sad expression on his face, "I hit him with a cutting spell but I was too late to save the Minister."

Alerted by the commotion in the Minister's Office, a team of aurors arrived and began processing the scene in front of them and conducting interviews of the assembled crowd. "Excuse me, Sir." said Auror Tonks as she sidled up to her new boss. "Can you please tell me exactly what happened here?"

Taking full advantage of the ever growing crowd, Pius retold his story clearly and in a slightly louder tone of voice than normal. He had been instructed to become the next Minister of Magic if possible and even though he was under the Imperious Curse, he was a political animal and he was putting those skills to work.

There were several members of the Wizengamot and their staff in the crowd milling about the crime scene and Thicknesse was playing on their fears and sympathies while casting his actions in the best possible light. Before the day was done, he would have a sizable number of people pushing for him to be the next Minister of Magic.

A few visits from some of his associates to the members of the Wizengamot that were not in favor of his election would pave the way for his ascension into power for Lord Voldemort.