Tested In Fire

For those who help me out when I'm in a bind.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Silver Hand

Harry was in trouble, and he knew it. The searing pain in his scar couldn't possibly bode well for him; it never did.

He was pacing his room quickly, trying to work out what to do, when Sirius entered.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here. I've just received word. The Death Eaters are coming, moving in from all sides of the Lodge. Grab your cloak, we haven't got much time."

Hagrid's words came back to Harry, who could still remember just the way that his mentor had looked when he had tried to explain to that small orphan boy with knobby knees just exactly who he was. "Nobody lived once He decided to kill 'em."

"There's a Portkey in my bedroom that will take us to a location just outside of Hogsmeade. I don't know if they've breached the security wards of the house yet, but I'm going to assume that they have. Stay behind me, and we'll try to get us both out of here alive."

"All right."

They both exited the room and ran out into the corridor.

"They haven't breached the security wards, thank God," Sirius whispered.

"ALOHOMORA!"

"That comment may have been slightly premature," Harry whispered back.

"Come on, they don't know where we are yet. All we've got to do is get to the Portkey."

They managed to make down the corridor to Sirius's room without getting attacked. Almost.

"Potter!"

Harry turned, and could not believe his eyes. Both Malfoys stood there, with their wands outstretched.

"Shall we duel?" Draco asked, with a cruel grin on his face.

Sirius started forward. "Harry..."

"It's all right. I'll handle it. Actually," Harry said as casually as he could, "I'm sort of pressed for time, so I hope you don't mind if I make this short."

Draco smirked. "Yes, well, I had planned on killing you slowly, but if you insist..."

"I don't have time to die today, Malfoy. See me next week." Harry's eyes caught hold of a large vase sitting in the corridor.

"Are you just going to stand there all day, Potter?" Lucius asked mockingly.

"No, actually, but I doubt you're going to do much standing after this. Wingardium Leviosa!"

The vase rose, and when Harry lifted the spell, came crashing down on both of the Malfoys' heads.

"That was nice," Sirius muttered.

"Thank you."

They reached Sirius's room, and Harry's godfather locked the door.

"The Portkey is that bowtie sitting on the dresser."

"A bowtie?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Dumbledore gave it to me. That's what the meeting was for."

"Oh." Harry shook his head. As fond as he was of the Headmaster, sometimes he thought Dumbledore was a bit odd.

"Grab the Portkey on the count of three, all right, Harry?"

"All right. One."

"Two."

The two men exchanged a quick glance. "Three."

They both grabbed a hold of the bowtie. Just as the world spun around Harry, and he felt himself being pulled from the pit of his stomach. Just before he went whirling through space he heard the noise of the Death Eaters breaking into the room, but they were too late.

As Harry examined his new surroundings, he heaved a sigh of relief. He could see Hogwarts in the distance, and it was only a matter of time before he and Sirius made their way up. The little town of Hogsmeade was quiet and subdued in the evening air, and it actually looked quite cheerful.

"Don't get too comfortable, Harry Potter."

Harry turned to face the voice, and he felt a sinking. It seemed his stomach was dropping all the way to his toes. He recognized the face, and he recognized the voice, but the attitude was entirely different.

"Pettigrew."

"What are you doing here? How'd you find out about the Portkey?" Sirius demanded.

"Your security isn't as tight as you think it is. Call me Wormtail. I've come to collect you for the Master."

"You'll do no such thing, Wormtail." Sirius was angry, and vicious. "You'll have to go through me first."

"How terrifying," Peter said mildly. "How utterly and completely horrifying. Perhaps I should just give up now and go home?"

Sirius blinked. "That would be nice."

Peter sighed in response. "I would like to, very much so, Sirius. But you see, Voldemort has requested that I bring him Harry Potter. I could hardly refuse him, now could I?"

Sirius snarled. "Just like you couldn't refuse him fifteen years ago when he asked for James and Lily, you treacherous bastard."

"Now, now, Sirius, we mustn't get upset. It's nothing personal, after all."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "Like hell, it isn't personal. You don't get much more personal than handing my best friend and his wife and child over to a murderer."

Peter tsked. "Please, Sirius. I simply wanted to advance in the ranks of my peers. You understand how it is."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "No, Peter, I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, then, let me explain it to you. You, James and Remus were so smart, and I never could get anything right."

His face was glowing, his eyes were rapt, and his hands were shaking. He looked very much like a demon, and Harry held back a shudder. This was not the Peter Pettigrew he had met on previous occasions.

"I would be something with Voldemort. I could make my own decisions! I could finally do something right."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Let me ask you a question, old friend. How's that working out for you? James, Remus and I never chopped off your hand, did we?"

Peter gritted his teeth.

"We never insulted you, did we?"

Peter tossed his head.

"We never gave you a drug," Sirius guessed, and watched Peter's eyes snap. "Potions are all well and good, but the power is only an illusion."

Suddenly, Harry understood. This wasn't the real Wormtail. Voldemort had given him something to make him more vicious.

"You know nothing," Peter spat.

"And you know what else we never did? We sure as hell never had you kill anyone. I don't see how your situation benefited from joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. With the Marauders, you were someone. You were important. You just could never get that through your head."

"I have a new hand now, Sirius. I can deal with the insults, with the killing, because now I have power."

He flexed the silver hand he sported for Harry and Sirius to see.

"Yeah, of course you have power. You have an illusion of power. You mean nothing to Voldemort. Nothing, and he would sooner see you die than actually do anything that would help you."

"Yes, well, our talking time is up. I highly regret what I have to do now, and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies."

"I can never forgive you for killing James and Lily."

"No, not about that. I'm afraid I don't owe you an apology for that one. I meant that I will regret having to kill you now."

Peter raised his wand, and Harry saw his opening. He charged Peter, knocked his wand from the silver hand. A quick punch to the pressure point was all it took to knock the former Marauder unconscious.

"Grab him," he said to Sirius, who was looking rather dazed. "Make sure he stays out of it. We've got to get to Dumbledore, and Hogwarts, quickly. We've got quite a hike in front of us."

**

"Please don't do anything stupid. Please don't anything stupid," Ginny mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Harry Potter, if you get yourself killed, I will never speak to you again."

Finally Dumbledore's face appeared in the fire. He looked charming and rested. His eyes twinkled brightly. Ginny rather suspected that his happy expression wouldn't remain in place for long.

"Professor Dumbledore, I've had a vision."

"Hello to you too, Miss Weasley."

In spite of herself, Ginny smiled, but refused to be distracted. "Harry's in trouble, Professor. Lupin Lodge has been attacked."

The Professor blinked, and for once in her life, Ginny believed that she had told the Headmaster something that he hadn't known previously.

"Our intelligence shows Voldemort to be at another location at this time. That means that only the Death Eaters are involved, for now." Dumbledore sighed. "We had suspected an offensive move by Voldemort, but we were unaware that the Death Eaters had learned of Harry's true location. The last information that I had received implied that they were looking for him. This is an interesting development."

"Professor, you've got to do something to help him!"

"Sirius has a Portkey," the professor intoned quite calmly. "I imagine they were able to escape to the edge of Hogsmeade. I'll send a team of professors down to recover them."

"Aren't you the least bit worried?" Ginny's voice was almost a whine.

"Ginny Weasley," her mother reprimanded her. "Professor Dumbledore doesn't have time for this. Hermione, you tell him your news."

"Professor, I've worked out where we've gone wrong all this time with the spell. It's in the prophecy, even."

Dumbledore smiled. He felt some of the weight lift from his shoulders. "And what is the answer, Miss Granger?"

"It's love, Professor." Hermione assumed her lecturing tone. "In the prophecy, the prophets are always talking about how it is the love of the Stag and the Flower for the Gryphon that defeated the Dark Lord the first time."

"That is true," Professor Dumbledore agreed. "But what is the practical application?"

"A shield, using the love between the Maiden and the Gryphon, sort of the like the one that was used by Harry's mum to protect Harry." Hermione bit her lip. "Actually, that's the simplified version of what we're really going to need to pull this off. We need an energy source. I've done the calculations, and Ginny and Harry don't have enough energy between the two of them to perform this spell. We need an outside energy source, a willing outside energy source to be exact."

The professor's smile turned grim. "I believe we can supply that."

"Harry and Ginny would have to take the energy from the source and then use that to force the capturing beam with their wands. They'll have to use their own personal energy to build the shield, as their love would be the most powerful source for this purpose."

Ginny bit her lip. "So you're saying that we'd have to take energy from somebody else, cast one spell, and then set up our own defense?"

"It's the only way that the spell will work properly."

"There's still an incredible amount of danger involved," Mrs. Weasley said, not quite able to control her mother-hen feelings.

"Yes I know, Molly, but they're the only ones who can do it," Professor Dumbledore reassured her, with regret in his eyes. "If there was any other way to handle it, that option would be grasped, but there are no other options, and if we don't get rid of Voldemort soon, he will reach his full potential. The magical balances will tip, because I won't be here to correct them. We're running out of time."

"To better insure Harry and Ginny's survival, we should attack Voldemort when he's not ready for it," Charlie called out from the back of the room. "An immediate counter-offensive might be the way to go."

All the eyes in the room turned to him.

"I agree," Bill supplied, his voice quiet. "Voldemort's arrogance is based on the fact that no one would dare attack him, especially with his force so concentrated. I can call the Order and have them inside here Hogsmeade within ten minutes."

"Wait," Percy interrupted. "We've got to make sure Voldemort turns up. It's no good taking on the minions if their leader isn't there."

"We need bait," Ron said.

"I think that fact that Harry and I will be there will be bait enough for Voldemort," Ginny countered.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and seemed to consider his options.

"I will go as bait," he determined finally. "I am nearing the end, anyway."

"No," Arthur Weasley said. "We need you alive, Albus. More than anyone, we need you alive."

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"Perhaps we could be of service," Fred offered.

"What?" Molly's shrill demand made both boys wince.

"Well, we are card carrying members of the Order," George said with a grin and a shrug. "Believe it or not."

"It's about time we started to pull our weight around here," Fred said with mock seriousness.

Everyone in the room glared, daring the twins to make their point.

"We might have something up our sleeves that could attract Voldemort," George said and chuckled.

"Might?" Fred asked, seemingly outraged. "My dear brother, all Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products are guaranteed to work, or your money back."

George rolled his eyes. "That's right, Fred. Well, anyway, we've got this, um... illusion that might convince the old bastard to turn up."

"George Weasley!"

"Sorry, Mum."

"What is it, exactly?" Dumbledore wanted to know, his eyes shining with amused curiosity.

"Well, it's a firework that looks like the Dark Mark... sort of," Fred said, his voice quieter than usual.

Bill guffawed and Charlie covered his mouth.

"I'm not even going to ask why," Ginny mumbled.

George shrugged. "You never know when such things might come in handy."

"I like it," Bill said finally. "I'm sure that Voldemort will, too."

Fred and George grinned. "That's the plan."

"All right then," Hermione said bravely. "It's all set. We'll come up to Hogsmeade with you all..."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I must ask you and Ronald to stay at The Burrow."

Ron's eyes snapped and Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm afraid we can't obey, sir. Harry and Ginny will need us."

Ron gaped. His strict rule-following girlfriend was actually defying Dumbledore! He had never felt prouder in his life.

"I guess that's true," Dumbledore said, and it was evident how tired he was.

"Do you have something to capture Voldemort in?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Hermione said with a grin. From her pocket she pulled a necklace on a chain. "It's a silver hand, like the one he gave Wormtail. I think it's the ultimate sign of imprisonment."

Ron gulped. "Your sense of humor is impeccable."

"Thank you."