What Must Be Done
By Xelan
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
A/N: Special thanks to the good folks at Seel'vor's Group. Individual thanks to Dale D., Andrew C, and Jack T.
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Ron paced back and forth in a frenzied pace, alternately running his hands through his rough red hair or wringing those same hands fitfully. In a plaintive, frightened voice he would periodically call Hermione's name toward the closed door and up through the floor boards every time Hermione's screams sounded. Angry and full of fear, Ron rounded on Harry who was no less affected inside, but was seemingly just sitting on the floor with his back against the wall with his eyes closed.
"They've taken Herms... Look at you, just sitting there. Merlin, I haven't a clue why she'd choose you over me. We have to DO something! Get off your arse and do something!"
Harry said nothing but lines of concentration could just barely be made out in the dimness of the room.
"You bloody coward! I knew we should never have trusted you. I told Herms dozens-no-hundreds of times that you didn't have a clue what you were doing. That it was all dumb luck!" Ron paused his tirade for a moment, his breathing hard. Having caught his breath, his voice dropped down and he leaned in close. He was no longer shouting, but he sounded infinitely more snide and condescending. "And she defended you... did you know that? Starving and freezing, jumping at shadows and working herself senseless, she actually defended a rat bastard like you."
Ron pulled back from the sitting figure and he coughed as if to clear his throat.
Luna, badly hurt and barely conscious picked that particular moment to come to. She quickly took in the situation. "Ronald- don't..." was all she was able to say before the pain forced her back to unconsciousness.
"Not even wizard enough to fight me for her are you? Just wait until she hears how you did nothing to save her. You can be sure that I'll tell her every sodding detail. It's not like you deserve her. You didn't spend time persuading Mum to have me made prefect, or to have you two separated over the summers. I've spent years manipulating Herms so that even if she chose you, she wants me. She's my girlfriend in everything but name and I figure that if she survives the torture curse she'll be easy enough to manipulate."
Ron spat at the ground right in front of Harry. He'd meant to hit Harry, but he didn't have a lot of practice and missed.
Ollivander was in great pain but had been conscious throughout Ron's little tirade. It was at that moment that he chose to speak. "You, Mister Weasley, are a very evil young man."
"What would you know about it, you old goat?" The angry, foul redhead shot back.
"I've see many young witches and wizards throughout the years. Some have grown up to be great and some have grown up to be great and terrible. You, I think, have neither grown up nor are you great. And in the end, all that shall be remembered of you is that you were terrible; terrible as a friend and likely terrible as a lover."
"Bugger off you crazy-eyed, old man --like you know anything. You have no idea how I've suffered being friends with this cowardly, glory-stealing bastard!" Ron pointed at the unmoving Harry.
Unmoving, at least to the unobservant or perpetually angry, Harry's expression had taken on a grimace and his eyes were shut tight.
Ollivander was silent for a moment as his eyes took in more than Ron noticed about their silent companion. "Crazy I may be, but there has been an Ollivander selling wands for thousands of years and we are more perceptive than you might suspect. What I do know is that Miss Granger will be lucky to come away from her torture alive, let alone sane. Why exactly are you so sure of yourself? You are a prisoner just as certainly as we are."
Ron scoffed. "I'm a pure blood."
Ollivander was not impressed. "As am I," the elder wizard responded.
Ron rebutted. "The Dark Lord wanted something from you. If you'd cooperated, you wouldn't be stuck in here. All I have to do is make sure they know who I am and what I can tell them and they'll welcome me. 'Bout time I got some recognition aside from being 'the sidekick' of The-Coward-Who-Lived. One way or another, I'll get out of this, and Herms will be grateful. And even if she isn't..." Ron walked over to the immobile wand maker. "See this bottle here? I've been saving it for a special occasion. See, normally Herms is too good to get potioned since my botched jealousy potion attempt last year, but after some Cruciatus, I'll bet she won't mind a little Amortentia."
Ollivander's eyes were distant for a moment and for a second Ron thought he might have up and died on him. "I see I was mistaken." Ollivander said. "You are more evil than terrible. One might go so far as to say terribly evil." The old man closed his eyes.
Ron snorted at that. "Herms was the one good thing Harry had going for him and she's gonna be mine. She'll open her mouth, spread her legs and get down on her knees for me and there's noth--"
Ron felt something land on his shoulder and moved his hand to brush off the debris from the ceiling. Instead, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see a fist grow wide in his sight.
-THWOK!-
Ron actually spun like a pinwheel in the narrow space and landed in a heap with his head at an odd angle. Ron's sputtering magic the only thing keeping him alive--for the moment.
Harry turned and walked to the cellar steps and pounded on the door. "Wormtail! I'll talk! Open the door!"
Several tense moments passed and then they heard the lock on the door click and a squelching sound as the door unsealed. "What is it, Potter?" the rat man snarled even as he realized there was something wrong with the boy's eyes.
Harry glared at the pathetic excuse for a wizard. He outstretched his hand and Peter began to cough. "Wha--wa are you..." and his hands were clawing at the iron like invisible grip squeezing at his neck. He clawed at his very skin and his tongue and cheeks bulged dangerously as his face turned a darker and darker purple. The saliva in his mouth gurgled and sputtered as the last wisps of air exited his crushed airway and he dropped to his knees and slowly slid down the cellar stairs coming to rest with his forehead upon the floor. Dead.
Shaking his head as if to clear it Harry did a wandless, silent, summoning spell to retrieve Pettigrew's wand. Wand in hand, he cast a mobilicorpus on Luna and Ollivander and moved up the stairs and through the house following Hermione's screams.
Leaving the two helpless ex-captives in a room he had sealed off, he confronted Bellatrix and her Death Eater cronies.
"Aww has wittle baby Potty wotty come to rescue his widdle girl friend?" She laughed cruelly and applied the Cruciatus to Hermione again.
Her voice hoarse from screaming, Hermione could still see a little though darkness was closing in on her. "Run... Harry... Run..." she managed before the all-consuming pain hit her again.
Harry's eyes burned red at the sight and he squeezed his left hand into a tight fist even as his right hand shot forward almost as if his wand was a lance.
Two Death Eaters had been flanking Bellatrix and more were in the outer rooms. She was supremely confident. That is, she was supremely confident until the Death Eater to her right screamed in a garbled cry as his heart was crushed into a red, meaty paste and the Death Eater to her left had his clothing transfigured into an iron maiden below the neck. His face still showing the shock as ninety-nine razor sharp blades punctured him from neck to toe.
Shocked beyond her insanity for only a moment, she did not immediately touch her wand to her Dark Mark. Then Harry began to move toward her.
He did not run, he did not walk, but instead he strode forward like a lord crossing to seat himself upon his throne. Bellatrix was breathing shallow, rapid breaths. Something was familiar about this. Something... something made her want to kneel and avert her eyes. Something was wrong with the Potter boy's eyes and she needed to call her Master. Slowly her wand inched toward her Dark Mark.
Then, in the span it takes to blink an eye, Potter was there. He was standing just to her right within striking distance. Bellatrix tightened her grip around her hidden dagger and prepared to stab deep into the boy's side.
"You have displeased me..." Came a gruff voice issued from Harry's lips and Bellatrix knew what was familiar and what was wrong with the boy's eyes. Harry's hand had descended on her forehead. She didn't even realize she had fallen to her knees. Her wand dropped to roll about the floor, dagger stuck tip first in the hardwood boards, and Bellatrix slack jawed as a commanding presence filled her and left her helpless.
Harry knelt down next to her in one smooth motion. "You are a disappointment."
Amazingly, Bellatrix's eyes began to water.
He picked up the fallen dagger and then pocketed her wand. "You must die now."
Bellatrix wanted to close her eyes, but the presence wouldn't let her.
Harry swung forward with the dagger. The movement perfectly poised and balanced, he slammed the dagger into the insane Witch's face right between the eyes at a slight angle. The sharp point and terrible force behind it easily pierced all that stood in its way and slid deep into her brain. Gasping and involuntarily sputtering, she slipped backward as the knife's weight was enough to tip her over. Her lifeless head lolled to the side.
Harry moved to Hermione in one frantic motion and cradled her twitching body. "Love... Hermione, speak to me." Hermione opened her eyes slowly. Her entire being ached and her body was one gigantic bruise, but Harry was calling her. He needed her, so she fought her way back from the Dark. Looking at his worried face, she blinked her eyes. Her eyes were still very sensitive to light and each breath seemed to be filled with broken glass, but for just a moment she thought his kind, caring, emerald eyes had been tinged red.