Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 48 - Demonstration in Kind

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It was a strange scene, really. Harry, filled with fury, at the front stoop of Hogwarts Castle, snow billowing onto the tops of his boots, a faint red hue cast by the fiery planet Mars above. There was no other light save for the great spotlight of the full moon. The air was bitterly cold and, as Harry whistled a tune he didn't even know, a blast of steam shot from his lips. The tune disappeared with the vapors into an odd silence, and his audience, a dozen Death Eaters and their red-hooded apprentices, burst into laughter, some even applauding. Harry looked to the sky just as Mars appeared to crash into the moon in a grand celestial optical illusion. He half expected it to explode as he nonchalantly slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket.

"Very pleasant, Mr. Potter," Lucius snickered. "Wagner, I believe?" The red hue of the grounds grew bright then faded to white, and everyone seemed to follow Harry's glance instinctively looking to the sky. In that instant Harry quickly pulled a candy from his pocket, popped it in his mouth, and started to chew.

"Enough of this rot!" spat Lestrange. Quickly she strode up to Harry. "Give me your arm, boy!" She grabbed him by the left elbow. Harry had wanted nothing more than to see her die, but when she took his arm all he could do was muster another whistle. The movement of his lips, however, was quite natural and instead of blowing a note, he blew the candy directly at the black mask in front of him.

The explosion knocked Harry backward against the door, and shot Bellatrix head over heals down the steps, bowling over a half-dozen fellow Death Eaters in her path. Those nearest the pair had been blasted backwards and the others seemed dazed. Harry didn't hesitate as his hate gave way to necessity.

"Accio wand!" It snapped into his fingers. "Attonitu!" he called forcefully, using a spell he'd heard Goyle incant at DA meetings to blast a stunner at a group of adversaries all at once. It worked. Not as focused and lasting as a single beam, the enormous blast of red light blew all that were left standing to the ground. He ran down the castle steps three at a time, tumbling as he reached the bottom. Searing pain shot through his arm and he instinctively jumped to the right as a blast of red light shot over his left shoulder. He could hear their footsteps behind as he ran steadfast toward Hagrid's cabin. There was another blast, and this one hit him square. His legs gave out below him. He tried to stand, but was unable. He countered the Jelly-Legs jinx and stood to one knee just as a Death Eater took him by the arm.

"I've got him!" he called with a grin that Harry couldn't see, and one he'd never use again. For Harry, using a move that Gabriella had taught him, plunged his right elbow backward into the Death Eater's mask cracking tooth and bone. The man screamed reaching for his face. Harry turned to escape, only to realize the delay had cost him his advantage--he was surrounded again. Exhausted, he fell to his knees. Suddenly, there was a sparkle of blue light from behind one of the smaller red-hooded Death Eaters. In the cluster of cloaks, barely noticeable, a house elf had just materialized.

"The elves stand silently no more!" he cried out. A few hoods turned in his direction.

"Caesar?" Harry whispered, remembering the house elf he'd met in the kitchens while searching for Dobby. No sooner had the words left his lips than another sparkle appeared to his right, and then another directly in front of him. Soon some thirty to forty house elves had appeared from nowhere. Collectively, the Death Eaters began to disperse and back away. All but one.

"This is ridiculous!" she cried out. "They're ruddy house elves! Kill them! Kill them all!" She cast a beam of green light directly at the house elf in front of Harry. But he vanished and the light struck the ground leaving a large crater where he once stood. In return, Caesar threw a ball of white light at Bellatrix, which she easily parried with her wand. But then there was another, and another. Soon the air was filled with white balls of lightning flying at black cloaks, the occasional blast striking true. It was evident that the Death Eaters had a fight on their hands, a fight they hadn't prepared for. Caesar hurried to Harry's side.

"Run, Harry Potter, sir! The magic of the elves is strong, but will not last. Run!" A house elf was hit and flew through the air landing at Harry's feet, its eyes open and blank.

"Run!" cried Caesar again.

But instead of running, Harry placed his hands on the house elf and closed his eyes. He'd just charged the stone and could still sense the power of the Heart of Asha within him. The sounds of the battle raging around him slipped into silence, as he saw the flickering light of the house elf's soul begin to wane. With his mind, Harry reached out toward the ball of energy and took it in his grasp. He could feel the energy flow out of him as the flickering light grew bright. Harry fell backward into the snow, the house elf beside him heaving in a new born breath. Caesar stared in amazement. An instant later, Caesar's wide eyes narrowed as he turned to his opponents with an unimaginable fury. He cried out as the air filled with a tremendous blast of light. Harry heard a number of Death Eaters scream in pain, one of the screams was familiar.

"Draco?" Harry whispered, turning toward the sound.

"Run!" Caesar commanded. This time Harry looked up at the sky, the full moon staring down on him. The stars seemed to spin on a giant turntable, but for the first time in a long time there was no red eye threatening him from above. Taking in a deep breath he flipped to balance on all fours, a wave of dizziness passing over him. He took to knee, and then foot, and soon he was running toward Hagrid's cabin.

"Don't let him get away!" Bellatrix cackled from behind. "Lucius! Don't --" Another blast filled the air cutting her words short. Harry was only fifty yards from the cabin when he knew. A deepening cold filled him from the inside. The Dementors had returned. They swarmed the battlefield like buzzards, blocking out the moon. He was already weak and he stumbled into a pile of snow, his face cold and wet. He turned onto his back and, his hand shaking, held his wand into the air.

"Expect-to... Expecto P-P-P..." he fumbled. His hand dropped in the snow. He needed help. He couldn't do this on his own. He struggled to bring his head up, only to see that the house elves were beginning to lose the battle at the castle steps. "I've failed," he whispered.

A hideous black figure swooped down close, and once again echoes of long forgotten screams began to fill Harry's mind. Screams? Or... howls? The creature's decaying hand reached for Harry's face, so close Harry could smell the stench of decay, and then with a thud it vanished in a flash of fur. A large light-brown werewolf had pounced, pinning the Dementor in the snow and tearing at its flesh. There was another howl directly behind Harry. He turned to see an even larger werewolf, white with stained jowls, walking toward Harry as if he were the next snack. Then in the air some thirty feet off the ground he saw Ron hovering. The white werewolf pounced toward Harry and then bounded by in a sprint to the castle steps.

"Run to the forest!" yelled Ron, his voice pitched high. He looked exhausted, but his face shone with determination.

"Where's Fred?" Harry yelled back, but Ron was gone, tracking the white werewolf toward the castle. In the glow of the moon, Harry saw some seven werewolves follow Remus and the white werewolf toward the castle. Not wishing to take a chance that Ron would lose control, Harry began as best he could to run. Racing, falling, racing to the forest, he had just passed Hagrid's cabin when a voice from high over his left shoulder called out.

"Harry!" He knew instantly it was Hermione.

Spinning around he looked up to see her flying on a broom, holding on to George's waist. Behind them were another dozen or so brooms. The sense of hope instantly filled Harry's heart. Flying in lead was Mr. Weasley, and on his right was Mr. Fudge. To Harry's surprise there was a mix of adults and students including Gryffindor's head boy, Lloyd Wade. Other than Mr. Weasley, he saw no members of the Order that he knew. What seemed most odd was the sight of Colin Creevey. He was riding an old Comet with one hand and holding his camera in the other. As the group passed over Hagrid's cabin, they pivoted toward the castle. Harry had never seen Mr. Weasley fly a broom, but as he turned toward the raging battle he moved with a grace worthy of any Chaser. While most of the formation moved to the battle, Hermione, George and Colin landed next to Harry.

"We've got to get you to the forest!" George called out, just as Colin's camera flashed in Harry's face. "Where are Ron and Fred?" A blast of red light erupted at the steps sending a werewolf flying through the air and landing with a yelp.

"I don't know where Fred is," Harry answered trying to regain some semblance of cogent thought. "Ron... Ron's leading the werewolves." He pointed to a small figure hovering over the fray. In the same instant, beams of red showered down from the wizards riding brooms.

"Is he mad?" George screamed remounting his broom. "Hermione, get Harry to the caverns. He's the one they're after. You know the way." George was about to push off when Colin grabbed his arm.

"I'm going with you," he said with a calm and commanding voice. It was a tone, Harry had never really heard in the younger Gryffindor. He seemed so much older than Harry remembered. George rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"We've been over this, Colin. You're not to --"

"I've got to record this, George," interrupted Colin. "We need to have proof, and I intend to get it."

"Then you better take your bloody pictures fast, because I'm not waiting around to see if they say cheese." Colin mounted his broom, camera in hand, and together with George flew to the battle. Harry suddenly felt the urge to join and stepped toward the steps, but Hermione held him back.

"That's just what they're after, Harry. Merlin, look at you! A stiff wind would knock you over. Come on, you've got to follow me. It's not too far in." She began to run toward the Forbidden Forest, and Harry followed at her side.

"Where... are we... going?" asked Harry, gasping for air. His body was reaching its limits. It wouldn't be long before he could go no further. There was a swoosh from behind, and Harry turned brandishing his wand only to see Ron nearly fly him over as he dashed into some lower hanging branches in the thickening forest. If Harry was near the end of his rope, Ron had fallen off. He landed hard on the ground, his face white, and his hands still tightly clutching his broom. Even in the darkness, Harry noticed a thickening extension of the scar that wound its way about Ron's ear.

"Ron!" Hermione cried. She ran to his side and sat him up. His eyes wore a glassy gaze as Hermione held him in her arms and stroked his hair. "Baby, are you all right?" The haze seemed to lift from Ron's eyes as he looked back at her. Realizing who was in front of him, he quickly wrapped his arms around her kissing her neck.

"Tired is all," he whispered weakly, with the faintest smile. Their foreheads touched and then they gently kissed -- clearly not their first.

It was odd seeing his two best friends embrace each other with a passion he had never seen. He couldn't ever remember Ron so much as touching Hermione, and yet it seemed so perfect. Another howl filled the night air, followed by a scream not of a Dementor, but of a human. The baleful note seemed far closer than it should have been.

"Er... this is beautiful and all, but, Hermione..." Harry beckoned. Hermione, still holding tight to Ron, looked up. Even in the filtered moonlight striking the forest floor Harry could tell she was embarrassed.

"Oh, yeah, right. Erm..." she said standing and brushing the snow from her knees. It was as if she'd left the planet for a moment, oblivious to what was happening around them and had just returned. Harry reached down and helped Ron to his feet. "We were just --"

"I know," said Harry, saving her the explanation. "Ron told me. I think it's brilliant," he said with a smile, and with his acceptance a tremendous relief passed over Hermione who returned the smile. Then, suddenly realizing their predicament, she grabbed Ron's hand.

"Come on! This way!" She darted deeper into the forest, Ron and Harry in tow.

"Ron, where's Fred?" asked Harry, barely able to keep up the pace.

"He should be here already," said Ron over his shoulder.

"Where's here?"

"Here is here," Hermione answered coming to a stop. The forest had thickened, and they were standing at a large outcropping of rocks some thirty feet high that extended as far as he could see in any direction. Harry had traveled this path into the forest before and he didn't remember such a wall. Looking at the manner in which Hermione was surveying the craggy face, he thought she was going to have them climb over it. Instead, she pulled her wand and pointed it at one of the stones.

"Norbert," said Hermione, and the rock wall began to rumble. A small fissure appeared on the wall's face into which Hermione stepped and disappeared. Ron went next, then Harry. It was just barely large enough for him to squeeze through, the frames of his glasses scraping against rock. He was nearly in when he felt his hand catch on something from the outside.

"Ouch!" he yelped jerking his hand inward, losing his balance and falling to the earthen ground of the cavern.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, brandishing her wand, and distracted by his cry. Harry looked down at his left hand which was now dripping blood. By the light of torches evenly spaced about the cavern wall, he could see his index finger was gashed.

"Must have caught it on the rock," he winced as the crevice closed behind him. Hermione knelt down and bathed it in blue light, and the wound slowly sealed.

"That was pretty bad, Harry," she said helping him to his feet. "You'd better let Madame Guérir have a look when we get in." When Harry stood, he finally had a chance to take in his surroundings.

They were in a great stone tunnel, if it could be called that. Spanning at least fifteen feet across it was some twelve feet high. The torches revealed the passageway gradually sloping down and turning to the right. Harry touched the damp walls, and found them stone. The floor was rock as well, but had been layered with dirt and debris like the entryway of a Hagrid's cabin. Harry also noticed snow, tracks of snow that seemed to be recent. More than a few had been this way in the last few hours.

"Come on," said Hermione, with a voice that had noticeably lightened now that they were safe. "Follow me."

"You like saying that, don't you?" Ron poked.

"I don't often get the chance," she said, grinning. "And when I do, you don't often listen."

"Like I didn't follow you all around Hogsmeade looking for 'just the perfect blouse," Ron whined mimicking her voice. He was trying to start a fight, but his heart, or energy, just wasn't in it.

The path turned left, when Hermione suddenly stopped. She pulled her wand pointing it at the empty tunnel ahead. "Selectra!" Where once had been emptiness, a giant spinning tumbler appeared before them. Hermione dialed in a number to the left, then right, then left again, and the tunnel flashed bright blue, and seemed to spin. When it stopped they were in a grand cavern some fifty feet high and one hundred feet wide. It was as if they'd been moved by some magical elevator. More tunnels shot off in multiple directions, but they stepped into the grand cavern. There was furniture here, and in the far corner the Wireless Wizarding Network was broadcasting information about the attack on the Ministry and at De Gaul Airport in France, only no one was watching.

"What is this place?" Harry whispered in amazement. The words had just left his lips when he noticed movement about the entrance of one of the tunnels. He began to raise his wand when Hermione held his arm. There, hiding behind a barricade, was a group of about a dozen students, wands at the ready. When the hiding students realized who it was and that it was safe, relief spread over all their faces. Anthony Goldstein was first to emerge.

"Well, I figured you to be a soulless zombie by now," Anthony shouted out to Harry. The other students followed Anthony, who was smiling broadly, across the cavern chamber to meet the three newcomers. But as he came close to Harry the grand look of confidence left his face and was replaced with a look of concern. He leaned toward Harry's ear. "When Fred came and told us you'd gone into the castle, I thought for sure..." his voice trailed off as he shook his head. Harry held out his hand, and Anthony took it pulling him close. "Thank Merlin you're okay. The first years are pretty scared." Anthony took a deep breath and turned wearing a broad smile again. "See!" he called. "I told you he'd be fine." All their moods seemed to brighten.

"Fred," asked Ron, "where's Fred?" At the question, Anthony's face turned a bit ashen.

"He's with Madame Guérir down at the medical ward." There was something more, but Anthony did not say what it was. Ron, however, heard what Anthony was thinking.

"That's not possible!" he yelled. Ron spun, frantically looking at his options. "Hermione, which way?" She pointed to a tunnel leading to the right and he began to run. At this point, Harry didn't feel much like running. He'd been looking lustfully at one of the couches in the great antechamber. His body ached, his head was numb, but he ran knowing Ron would do the same for him.

Thankfully, the stone passageway to the medical ward was short. After only a minute they arrived at a large white door emblazoned with a red staff and serpent--the Caduceus. Ron pushed in first. The ward, to Harry's surprise, was large, larger in fact than the hospital wing at Hogwarts. There was row after row of empty beds, except for one in the distant back. There stood Madame Guérir speaking with Professor Flitwick, their faces grim. On the bed next to them sat Fred. His shirt was off, and except for looking a bit pale, he seemed fine. When they came closer, Harry could see that Fred's left arm was bandaged. Ron was at his side in an instant.

"Hello little brother!" said Fred with a smile. "Harry! I told them you'd make it," he said, pointing at Madame Guérir and Professor Flitwick with his good hand. The two adults seemed caught between shock and amazement. "Ron, I think I'm done here. Hand me my shirt." He pointed at a blue button down shirt set out on the back of a chair. It was stained in blood, the left arm shredded.

"Tell me it's not true!" Ron yelled almost in tears. Fred's smile flickered for an instant then came back full. Harry and Hermione stood confused. Clearly, they had missed something. Fred put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"It's not so bad, Ronnie. Although, I'm not sure how George is going to take it. Being the most handsome, I've always been sort of the face man for the store. He likes working the numbers and coming up with the great ideas. In fact --"

"This isn't about the bloody store!" interrupted Ron. "It's about you! You were right. It was bloody insane. How could I have been so stupid?" Ron buckled over onto the bed and began pounding it with his fist. Fred stood up and grabbed his brother.

"Hold it right there!" he snapped. "It was a bloody brilliant idea, and don't you ever... EVER blame yourself for this." He held up his right arm. "We're all here, and we're all alive." He turned to Harry. "Did you get it?" Harry patted the pack hanging from his shoulder and nodded. "There, you see! Success!"

Ron wiped tears from his face and then wrapped Fred in his arms. Suddenly, Hermione gasped, the blood draining from her face as she held her hand to her mouth.

"You were bitten," she whispered through her fingers. Fred grabbed his shredded shirt and held it up in the light.

"Tore up, more like it." He waved his wand, muttered a spell, and the shirt was like new. Even Professor Flitwick was surprised by the display of magic, but instead of speaking to Fred, he turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter," he interjected, trying to find a way into their difficult conversation with an even more difficult question. "You were in the castle?" Harry nodded. "Professor McGonagall... she was just leaving the castle into the catacombs when we had the cave-in. An errant blast from my wand I'm afraid." He paused. "Did you... see her?"

"Her and about a hundred Dementors," Harry answered excitedly. Everyone's eyes widened at the tale Harry told, not too unlike the real story. "She was brilliant! She took them all out at the entrance to Gryffindor tower. A hundred black guts splayed out on the floor. Now I know why she's the House Mistress of Gryffindor! She was sleeping in the common room when I left."

"Sleeping!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick almost scandalized. "We're in the midst of one of the greatest battles of our time, and she's sleeping!"

"Well, she was pretty tired," said Harry almost smirking. "A hundred Dementors and all." Professor Flitwick considered this for a moment, and nodded his head in satisfaction.

"At least she's safe," Professor Flitwick muttered turning again to Fred, now dressed and brandishing his wand.

"I'm going back out there," said Fred earnestly. Ron and Madame Guérir began to object simultaneously and Fred held up his hand to silence them. "It's my last night to see a full moon and remember it as something beautiful to behold. Besides, Merlin only knows what sort of trouble George has gotten himself into again."

"Then I'm going with you!" exclaimed Ron.

"No you're not!" Hermione shot back emphatically. "You can barely walk, Ron. And your... your..." she simply stared at the deep red scar now winding its way about Ron's ear. It seemed to have thickened since Harry first noticed. "You're not going anywhere!" Harry was glad that Hermione had taken a stand. The room was starting to spin a little, and he didn't think he could say no if Ron asked him to go along. Instead Ron, somewhere between fatigue and exhaustion, gave in.

"Be careful," he said to his brother, who flashed him a smile. Fred patted his younger brother on the cheek, and left the hospital ward.

Harry suddenly felt the floor give out from under his feet, and everything went black. What felt like a moment later, he opened his eyes and found himself in one of the ward's beds. Lying in the bed next to him, Ron was asleep on his stomach. His shirt was off, and Madame Guérir stood over him with her wand bathing his back in an orange light. The scars that had been diminishing over the last many weeks were once again raised and red.

"Is he going to be okay?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," said Madame Guérir simply. "Madame Pomfrey has been treating these scars and she is away for the holiday. This..." she pointed at the twisted, branching scars that spread out across Ron's back, "this is new to me."

Harry sat up, his head much clearer. He expected to see Hermione sitting nearby, but except for its two patients and the healer, the ward was empty. "Where's Hermione?" he asked.

"She and Professor Flitwick went to help clear the cave-in," she said, shaking her head. "A nasty mess that's going to be. And to trust it to a giant." Madame Guérir sighed heavily.

Harry sat up and rubbed his face. His head didn't ache, and he seemed to feel much better. Picking up his glasses he stood on the floor.

"No, no, no," Madame Guérir chided. "Back in bed."

"Where's the cave-in?"

"Mr. Potter, you will get back in your --"

"People are dying above our heads because of me!" Harry yelled. "WHERE'S THE CAVE-IN?" Madame Guérir looked deeply into Harry's green eyes. She found anger, and fear, and sadness. But she also saw bravery, and determination, and loyalty. The corners of her lips turned upward into the faintest hint of a smile.

"Go to the antechamber and look for the largest tunnel."

Harry nodded and started for the door. "Madame Guérir, take care of him, okay? He saved my life tonight." She gave Harry a wink, and turned back to her patient.

Harry wound his way down the tunnel to the antechamber. When he arrived he found most the students had gathered around the Wireless. Anthony saw Harry walk in and beckoned him over.

"They're talking about Hogwarts, and they've got pictures," he said in a very concerned voice. The Wireless projected the images in the air, much like the three-dimensional projection Harry has seen in the Marauder's Eye. "How, in Merlin's name, did they get pictures?" Anthony asked to the air.

"Colin," Harry whispered to himself, staring at the sight before them. There were two images being sent over the Wireless. Both were taken about the castle steps. One showed a great white werewolf pinning a Dementor down to the ground, tearing at its throat. The site was grisly and many of the younger students screamed. The second shot was of a Death Eater, a bolt of green emanating from his wand. The curse was aimed at a wizard on a broom, but no one could tell who. What the students did see was that the spell hit its target. The wizard, whoever he was, fell from his broom and out of the frame of the photo. A shiver ran down Harry's spine, and he suddenly felt very cold. He turned away looking for the tunnel leading to Hermione.

"They've sent more wizards from France," said Anthony encouragingly. "They'll have the Death Eaters cleared out before long."

"But at what price?" Harry asked. He put his hands in the pockets and realized he still had Draco's parchment. "Bloody traitor," Harry whispered to himself, his fingers curling around the paper and crushing it. Then he turned to Anthony. "Is that the way to the cave-in?" He pointed at the largest tunnel opening into the antechamber. Anthony nodded.

"It's a few hundred yards down, Harry. Stay to the left, and stay away from the giant."

"Giant?" Harry asked.

"You'll see," Anthony answered, rolling his eyes in his head. Suddenly one of the first years called out.

"We've won! They're fleeing!"

Both Harry and Anthony turned back to the Wireless. A reporter was declaring victory at Hogwarts. All Dementors had been killed, fled, or been captured, and nearly a dozen Death Eaters, or their apprentices, had been apprehended. "A record outing for Arthur Weasley," asserted the reporter. The news then turned to activities at the Ministry, and Harry's attention waned. It sounded as if the goblins too had been taken care of.

"It's over," Anthony breathed in a sigh of relief. Harry nodded, relaxing somewhat, but the chill in his bones remained.

Slowly, Harry made his way toward the cave-in. The tunnel entrance was much larger than the others, but it narrowed a bit as it wound its way toward the castle. Nonetheless, even at its narrowest the ceiling was some eighteen feet from the floor. For some reason there were fewer torches here lighting the walls and, feeling uneasy, he reached for his wand instead grabbing Draco's parchment. Seething, he pulled the crushed paper from his pocket. "How could you, Draco?" he hissed under his breath. He glared at the outside of the parchment, and fell against the stone wall. "I trusted you. I thought..." He made to rip the parchment to shreds, but stopped. Breaking the wax seal of the Malfoy crest, Harry opened the parchment. It was no holiday greeting.

---

King Potter,

I know spending another Christmas at Gryffindor brightens your miserable life, but I thought it time for another demonstration. When Christmas Eve arrives and you feel the need to join me for a smoke under our favorite tree, don't. The pieces are in motion; Weasles will understand.

DM

---

"A warning," Harry whispered. The Death Eaters thought Harry was staying at Hogwarts again for Christmas, or had Draco told them that? If the note in Harry's hand had been intercepted, they might have read it as a warning too. It could have meant Draco's life. Harry held the parchment up to one of the torches and watched it burn and turn to ashes. Harry shook his head. Once again, he had made a royal mess of things. He looked up at the stone ceiling. How many had died because he was too stupid to realize that Draco would never send him a note unless it was important. How many times had Draco reiterated their need to maintain the charade of their animosity? And then he sends a Christmas card?

Harry was cursing himself when he heard rumblings from further down the tunnel and the earth shook beneath his feet. Dust fell from the ceiling covering Harry's glasses with a thin film. He pulled them off to wipe them with the tale of his shirt, when his mind turned to giants. He wondered if maybe --

Suddenly, the fingers of his right hand clenched in a fist about his glasses, bending the frame as a searing pain shot up his shoulder and into his neck. He spun to look behind when he saw them appear from nowhere. In a blurred haze stood a tall man in a black cloak, his hood shredded away to reveal his long white hair. Next to him was a shorter figure, his left hand grasping at the red hood on his head. This time Harry was ready. He dropped his crumpled glasses to the floor, and in a sweeping motion pulled his wand as Lucius Malfoy began his spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" Harry called out, and the spell ricocheted back and struck Lucius, his wand flying backward. The figure in the red hood sent a shot of red light, missing Harry wide to the right and striking the wall in a loud explosion. Deliberate, Harry thought, just as the shards of rock struck him from behind. The pain was unexpected, and he lost concentration long enough for Malfoy to regain his wand. The quarters were tight, tighter than Malfoy was comfortable with.

"Let's not bring the rocks down on top of us, Potter," said Lucius mustering his kindest drawl possible. "The Dark Lord is not going to kill you. He just wants to... talk." They began to circle each other like wrestlers in the ring, the smaller wizard two steps behind Malfoy. "Frankly, I don't see what he sees in you, and I don't care." There was a tinge of anger mixed with frustration in Malfoy's words. It was clear that Lucius Malfoy had the same thoughts as Severus Snape in this regard.

"Oh, we've already spoken," lied Harry flatly. "Didn't he tell you? You are his left-hand man, aren't you? He wants me to be his second in command instead, and I said no." The words raised an eyebrow, but nothing more. Lucius was far too experienced to show his cards with his face.

"Then I guess I'll have to persuade you to come along civilly," he said smoothly. In a blink, a blast of red was streaming toward Harry's chest. But, just as quickly, he parried it sending the energy into the wall, and showering them in another blast of stone. A gash appeared on Lucius' face. Even without his glasses Harry could see the dripping red against Malfoy's pale white skin. He could also see the anger in his eyes as he roughly wiped the blood with his sleeve. The smaller wizard in the blood-red cloak, still followed Lucius like a shadow, and said nothing.

Lucius sent out another stunner, and again Harry deflected it. What he wasn't ready for was the blast of white light streaming from the other wizard's wand. It hit Harry squarely in the chest and sent him flying off his feet. "Excellent, boy!" Lucius exclaimed. In seconds, Harry's legs were bound and his wand was in Malfoy's hand. "The famous Harry Potter," Malfoy sneered. "Time to meet your maker."

"Hello?" a voice called from down the tunnel; it was Hermione. Harry made to speak, but Lucius silenced him before he had the chance. Harry tried to break free by working magic without a wand, but with his hands bound he was unable.

"Firenze? Harry?" the voice called out again, echoing down the tunnel. Hermione appeared around the corner carrying a torch in one hand. She was completely unprepared when she saw the Death Eater. Lucius began his incantation.

"Avada Ked--" but the blast of white light from the smaller wizard came first. As with Harry, it hit Hermione squarely in the chest, and dropped her instantly. It was he who bound and gagged her, but not until she let out one cry for help that reverberated down the chamber. Another spell and she was out cold, but alive.

"She's seen me!" Lucius spat, coming up to her with his wand. The younger wizard grabbed his arm and pulled him close whispering something in his ear. Lucius nodded. "True," he said, and then he began to chuckle to himself. "Very true." There was a rumble in the tunnel, and then another and another. It was as if someone was pounding on a great drum, and the great percussion grew louder and quicker with every beat.

"Come on," Lucius hissed. "Grab the cloak and let's go." He cast a locomotor spell on Harry raising him some three feet off the ground. The pounding continued growing louder, dust and rocks falling from the ceiling. The younger wizard retreated a few yards down the tunnel toward the antechamber when the noise stopped. Locomoting Harry, Lucius had taken only a few steps after him when a loud, almost childlike voice stopped him cold.

"Hermy?" Harry couldn't move to see. He didn't need to. "Hermy!" This time the voice had a tinge of anger in it. The ground shuddered again. "You hurt Hermy!"

Lucius broke the spell on Harry which sent him falling helplessly to the ground. Still holding Harry's wand in his left hand, Lucius cast a stunner with his right. It bounced off Grawp like a dried out spitball.

Using both wands, Lucius cast stunner after stunner, but the giant only grimaced in pain. Finally, he thought to use the killing curse, but it was too late. Grawp reached out and grabbed Lucius by the left arm near the shoulder and held him up, dangling like a rag doll. The younger wizard in the red hood began casting spell after spell, but none had an effect on the giant. Grawp stared intently at the wands in Lucius' hands and seemed to realize that these were the cause of the stinging red light. He grabbed Lucius' right arm and, still holding his left, slowly began to pull.

"Stop it!" the younger wizard pleaded. "Stop it!" Again, he blasted and blasted, but then, exhausted, fell to his knees. By now, Lucius was screaming. It was a sight Harry wanted to turn away from, but his eyes denied it. There was a sickeningly loud pop, and then a ripping sound as Grawp pulled Malfoy's left arm from out of its socket, and threw it to the floor. Blood began to stream down Malfoy's side and onto the stone floor. Seemingly satisfied with his work, Grawp dropped his unconscious adversary and turned back to check on Hermione.

The apprentice was at Malfoy's side, bathing the wound in blue light, but the flow of blood continued unabated. His hands began to shake. Harry, watching the hazy macabre scene, felt his voice return.

"Let me loose so I can help." The younger wizard rose to his feet, and quickly stepped toward Harry pointing his wand, hands shaking, directly at Harry's head.

"You idiot!" he spat through his blood-red hood.

"I can help," Harry said coolly. "Hurry!"

The cloaked wizard raised his wand high to cast a spell in fury, then dropped his wand at his side. He flicked his wrist and freed Harry from his bonds. Harry ran to Lucius and held his hands over his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. He closed his eyes and focused past the wound and into the Death Eater's source of energy. In Harry's mind he could see the light was still strong but seeping away. Reaching with his hands, Harry took hold of the light. Energy flowed from Harry's body, and a flash of green filled the tunnel. He felt himself return and found the blood drying around his fingers, the wound healing, and Lucius sleeping. A great sigh fluttered the red hood of the young apprentice at Harry's side. Weak, Harry slumped to the floor on one elbow. He breathed in hard trying not to pass out.

The sound of footsteps reverberated about the chamber. Others were coming from all directions. In defeat, the young wizard reached up and pulled the hood from off his head. It was Draco Malfoy. His face was alabaster and the scar on his cheek shone red in the torchlight. His hair, drenched with perspiration, hung limp about his shoulders. His conquered gray eyes looked down the tunnel toward the footsteps of his impending doom.

"Why did you come?" Draco asked, overcome with exhaustion and almost in tears. "Why?"

The room seemed to darken as Harry collapsed to his side. He looked up at Draco who knelt down at his father's side. He had been right, Harry was an idiot. Draco had risked everything, and now he'd be hauled off to Azkaban with his father. The footsteps grew closer. But now it was Harry's turn.

"Run," he breathed. Draco sat frozen. "I said run."

"I can't," said Draco, shaking his head. "I --"

"Damn it! Run before it's too late!" Draco looked down at Harry, and for a moment the two boys held each other's gaze. Then, Draco nodded and a small grin cracked his lips.

"Oil and water, eh?" said the blonde. He pulled back his cloak, reached into an inner pocket, and unfurled a large, shimmering cloth. In an instant, he had vanished. Harry rested his head against the stone floor as the footsteps arrived, and all went dark.

A moment later, he woke to a shriek from Hermione. She was standing next to Professor Flitwick, staring in horror at the severed arm lying in a pool of blood on the tunnel floor. Grawp was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry!" Hagrid cried out, scooping Harry up in his arms. "Are yeh alright?"

Drained, Harry looked down at the tunnel floor. Not only was Draco gone, but so too was his father, Lucius. With Harry's help, the man willing to kill his best friend had once again escaped.

"Who did this? Where did they go?" Hagrid asked.

So many questions, Harry thought. So many questions, and none with any meaning. The real question was burning its way into Harry's mind. A question he couldn't ask out loud, and was too afraid to answer even to his own conscience. What had he just done? An instant later, all was black.