Montane Hope

Chapter 14 (of 16)

Draco would have fallen to the ground when they landed if Moody and Tonks hadn't been holding him so tight. Portkey certainly wasn't his favourite way to travel. He looked around, finding himself in a circular room with windows all round and a huge metal and plastic contraption in the middle. Far below the waves crashed relentlessly over rocks.

Albus Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the room, running his hands over the lighthouse light and explaining how it worked to Severus Snape. Professor McGonagall was apparently listening also, but her eyes continually strayed towards a house that stood crazily at the top of one of the cliffs. It looked as though it might fall into the sea at any moment.

"Alastor, come and see this. One of the wonders of Muggle invention." Alastor Moody stumped over to him.

"Very nice, Albus. Perhaps you could attend to Tonks. She wouldn't stop at the school." No-one seemed to notice Draco's presence. He felt that he was being pushed to the side again, as he had been after Voldemort had appeared in the village. Even Snape wasn't bothering to look at him. Professor Dumbledore leaned over Tonks, moving the material gently away from her shoulder.

"Something bit you. What was it?"

"It's alright, really, it's nothing,' said Tonks, trying to pull the torn robe back over it.

"Nymphadora Tonks, that is a serious injury. Let Albus look at it - at once. You should have had it seen to at Hogwarts."

To Draco's surprise, Professor McGonagall winked at Snape after she had said this. Tonks had given her a pleading look, but then submitted quietly as Dumbledore ran his wand over the injury.

"Only way to deal with that sort," whispered McGonagall. "They think it's too girlish to give in to illness or pain otherwise." Draco was sure Tonks must have heard.

"Dog bite," said Moody. "She's too embarrassed to admit it was a common or garden terrier."

"How did it go?"

"No problem - and no Voldemort. Some of the Death Eaters are getting worried. We checked some of the caves further down the coast - that's where Tonks got her injury - but it's such a labyrinth we didn't make much progress. There's not even any way of being sure that they connect with the ones under the house."

"Do we know yet if they've gone down there?" asked Tonks. Albus nodded. He was finished treating the bite.

"The trapdoor is apparently untouched. I wondered myself when I saw that, although I really didn't think they'd all disappear into thin air. Voldemort is not quite that clever. No, the spells have been lifted and replaced. Only one of the students has the ability to replace those spells. That would suggest that Miss Granger was left behind in the house."

"Does she have a wand?" asked Draco. Snape and McGonagall turned to look at him as if they had only just realised he was there.

"No Mr Malfoy," said Dumbledore. "She does not. Calm down Minerva. If any student can cope with losing her wand, Hermione Granger can."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry Potter behind the scenes

If he was going to die, he hoped it would be quick.

Harry was sitting in a squashy armchair beside the fire. A plate of biscuits sat on the arm of the chair and 'Flying with the Cannons' had been abandoned face down on his lap. He looked at the clock and yawned. There was nothing to do here but eat, read and sleep. After nearly two days of it he was already fed up.

A loud thud startled him. Was that someone from the Order? It was surely far too soon for it to be the person he was waiting for. He walked downstairs with his wand out and checked the Muggle peep-hole Moody had insisted on installing. The door was protected with Muggle locks and chains, but no spells. Lazily moving the little flap aside, Harry looked through, directly into Voldemort's eye. He staggered back. The weeks of preparation couldn't help him now. You're going to die like your parents Harry. He replied to his own thought. I'm ready. If I have to go I will go, and I'll take him with me.

He slipped into the little room just beside the front door. The windows had been blacked and sealed from the inside so that no-one could see in. His heart pounded as he waited, listening to the creaks and snaps as Voldemort snapped the locks and chains, one by one, that closed the outside door.

He heard it swing open, creaking on its hinges. For one long heartbeat Harry waited, facing the door of the room. He was ready when Voldemort arrived.

*

Harry barely breathed, clutching the second wand in his hand. It's always the simplest spells that work best, he knew. Voldemort sat up, fury in his face.

"We meet again Harry Potter. You never learn, do you?" He stretched his hand out and Harry felt the Dark Lord's wand twitch in his hand. It grew hot as he held it. Deliberately he put his own wand in his pocket, taking hold of Voldemort's with both hands. He brought it down across his knee as Voldemort dived across the room, wrapping his long thin arms around Harry's legs. Harry was knocked backwards, but his hands were still free and he threw the snapped wand across the room before struggling until he succeeded in getting one leg loose and stamping on Voldemort's hand. He was pleased to hear a sharp intake of breath - evidently the Dark Lord was not immune to pain.

The rage built up in him like a furnace, as he aimed a nasty kick at Voldemort's head, stood on the other hand, then stumbled across the room, clutching at his wand which was, thankfully, still in his pocket. The Expelliarmus spell had worked better than he'd hoped, but he knew he couldn't relax now.

"Are you going to kill me Harry?" Voldemort asked mockingly. Harry didn't answer. Any minute now... Voldemort gasped as 40 gallons of water, cascaded over him, flowing over the floor to Harry's feet. Recovering; he glanced up at the trapdoor that had sprung open overhead.

"Very clever Harry. Much more original than just killing." Harry backed towards the door, still covering Voldemort with his wand. He knew he'd missed his moment. He could only hope to successfully distract him again, and stun him while he was still in control of the situation. Hermione had warned him of the risks associated with luring Voldemort to this house.

Indeed, Voldemort looked amused, but he didn't break eye-contact as he moved towards Harry, effortlessly side-stepping the clouds of stinging thorns that pelted out of the walls in waves.

"You're good at tricks Harry. Most unfortunate you can't hide them. No-one can lie to the Dark..."

Kaboom.

Voldemort jumped forward, followed by a thick spume of smoke. Harry continued backing, he was now out of the room and nearly at the stairs.

"Get out of my house Voldemort," said Harry, finally finding his voice. "You're foul, you're evil. You deserve to die."

"My house, Harry," said Voldemort. "Part of my birthright. One of us will die Harry. It may not be the one that is most deserving. Life can be that way - as you would surely find out if you lived long enough."

The door Voldemort was standing next to fell off its hinges, rapping him sharply on the head. A Dementor charged out. Harry stood perfectly still; he could feel the air going cold. His hands felt clammy with fear. Voldemort recovered rapidly - rapidly enough to trigger an old memory in Harry's mind, a simple spell. What was it? With a thin-lipped smile he ordered the Dementor to "show young Harry what fear is." The Dementor turned, as if seeing Voldemort for the first time, and changed with a loud crack into - Harry Potter. Harry watched aghast. He'd expected the Boggart to change into Dumbledore. The Boggart/Harry raised his wand arm and whispered an incantation. Harry strained his ears to hear. He was sure the spell didn't resemble any of the dark curses he knew.

Voldemort had sunk to his knees, apparently dizzy again. Harry slipped off unobtrusively, leaving the Boggart and Voldemort facing each other at the foot of the stairs. With no wand Voldemort was incapable of preventing the Boggart from doing anything it wanted. He wandered into the kitchen, looking out of the window at the waves crashing below. The trapdoor was just behind him, leading to the dark tunnels he had begun to explore with Hermione back in the spring. There was no noise from the hall, and he wondered how long it would be before Voldemort realised that the real Harry wasn't in sight and came after him. Turning back to face the door, he focused on the plaque stuck to the door, above the 1979 calendar. Artemisia. He repeated the word, finding it calmed him. Dumbledore had told him to relax as much as possible - he'd been wondering ever since if Dumbledore had ever tried to do anything hard. Surely he wouldn't throw such advice around so flippantly if he had.

Artemisia.

Hours later - but probably only fifteen minutes - Harry was startled with a loud scream. What took them so long? he wondered. He returned to the hallway in time to see Hermione rush up to the Boggart and hug it - and closed his eyes in horror as she screamed again. He didn't see what the Boggart had turned into before it cracked loudly and advanced on Ron - in the form of something very similar to Aragog. Ron charged at the monster, wand out so that it backtracked hurriedly. It fled past Harry, who slammed the door shut behind it. "Thanks Ron," he said. Ron didn't hear him though, he was busy throwing up. Voldemort appeared to have fainted.

Neville pulled Ron by the arm, and they stepped gingerly round Voldemort. "Come on," called Hermione, leading the way upstairs.

"What are you doing Hermione?" asked Harry. "Are we supposed to just leave him lying on the floor?"

"Yes Harry. The Order of the Phoenix will deal with him when they come."

"We are the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione."

"Harry, you can't use a killing spell. You just about have to be in Slytherin House to even perform an illegal curse."

"And whatever he did, Harry," said Neville, "You're not going to Azkaban for his sake."

'THAT MAN KILLED MY PARENTS. WHY SHOULDN'T..." Harry's voice trailed away as he realised he was shouting again. He looked at Neville, seeing the pain in his friend's eyes. "You're right, Neville. We'll let Dumbledore deal with him."

"Er... shouldn't we..." Before Ron could suggest that they really ought to properly stun and secure their captive and conjure the pre-arranged signal, the door crashed open.

*

"Children. So nice that you all came. Miss Granger, I believe we have met before, most useful you were. Indeed," he folded his arms and leaned against the door. "You are very right Mr Weasley. If your companions had a little more, shall we say, intuitiveness, I might have been in trouble indeed."

Hermione glared at him.

"Most embarrassing, isn't it Miss Granger. Not like the cleverest witch in Hogwarts to overlook a little thing like that." He stepped forward.

"You stay away from me," she hissed, backing against the wall.

"I'm frankly, rather surprised to see you here," he said, continuing to advance on her, though Harry noticed that Voldemort wasn't letting him out of his sight. He seemed barely aware of the others. Harry nodded at Ron, and Ron pointed his wand at the ceiling. Another trapdoor opened, showering Voldemort with woolly pompoms. Voldemort swept them off, turning back to Harry. "I expected better from you, Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived and the cleverest witch this century, and you try to smother Lord Voldemort with pompoms."

Harry held his gaze, while behind his back Hermione nodded to Neville. A bludger squeezed its way painfully out of Neville's wand, catching Voldemort in the back and knocking him over. Harry ducked. Ron jumped to the side. "Call it back," hissed Hermione, flattening herself to the floor. Voldemort rolled over, just missing it as it tried to smash his back again. Harry raised his wand, slowing the bludger down as it headed for Neville, then Hermione ran forward and grabbed his wand. With the bludger safely back inside the wand Neville was holding they started breathing again. Voldemort stood up, holding his back. Harry found he got a perverse pleasure from watching his enemy suffer, something Voldemort was no doubt aware of.

"STUN," roared Harry. 'Never mind us, stun him."

He already had his wand out, and watched the three spells streak towards their intended victim, but Voldemort threw himself to the floor. Neville aimed another stunner in his direction, which he rolled over to avoid.

Now who's the one playing hide and seek. Harry might have laughed if he hadn't been so scared.

*

That second's inattention, he realised immediately, was dangerous. The Dark Lord took advantage of the lull in action to suddenly lunge at Neville. Neville stepped back in alarm, avoiding the out-stretched hand but dropping his wand in haste. Immediately he stooped to grab it as Harry, horrified, raised his own wand to summon it. Both were too slow. Voldemort used the wand to cast a spell that threw Neville painfully into the wall, disarmed Ron with another spell and physically grabbed Ron. Harry hesitated a second too long, reluctant to hex Voldemort in case he hit Ron instead. Holding Ron and Neville's wands in one hand, Voldemort started dragging Ron downstairs. Harry raced after them, helplessly watching as Ron struggled but failed to break the older man's grip. Neville and Hermione, both wandless, hesitated a second before following. The three of them burst into the kitchen in time to see a Boggart/Harry trip through the open trapdoor and down the steps. Harry plunged into darkness after them, gripping his wand tightly. As the last glimmer of light vanished, he concentrated on the scraping sounds ahead, stumbling down the steps as soundlessly as he could.

*

Neville jumped back from the trapdoor in alarm as it slammed shut. Time froze for an instant as he caught his breath and Hermione stopped, looking at the perfectly sanded floor where the trapdoor had been a moment ago. It seemed, as so often her life did, as if she had been once again caught in a storybook, an actress on a stage lit by an un-natural light, caught up in events that couldn't be real. She saw Neville kneel, passing his hands across the floorboards, his form outlined in a glowing silhouette by the afternoon sun shining though the window. His voice jolted her back to reality.

"I don't know how to open it Hermione. It's gone. They've gone."

"I don't have my wand." She felt like stamping her foot in frustration. Instead she ran back to check the hall and the next room, carefully avoiding the traps that she knew were there. Before long she found what she was looking for - but she nearly cried when she realised that the wand was irreparably broken. Still, there was a portion of undamaged phoenix feather poking from one of the fragments and this she took, discarding the other bits as the useless pieces of wood they were.

She returned to the place where the trapdoor had been, holding the wand fragment with both hands as she muttered every 'opening' spell, and every derivative of them she could think of. Ten minutes later Neville was still sitting there, his arms around his knees as she whispered in exasperation over the smooth floor.

"The thing's broken! It's hopeless."

"Try again," Neville urged. "We've got to get to them."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Artemisia." She visualised the crashing waves below, the dark, labyrinthine tunnels. "Artemisia."

"How did you do that?" Neville asked, as a dark, jigsawing gap began to widen in the floor between them.

"A moment of connection," Hermione said, hurrying forwards.

"A what?" His voice echoed off the walls surrounding them. There were no steps, just a gentle slope.

"Never mind," Hermione said. "This isn't the place that was here before. Grab my hand, we can't get separated."

"Harry! Ron!" The shout bounced around them, making Hermione wince. He couldn't know, of course.

"Neville. Don't make any more noise. I don't know where we are, or what's down here." She heard a crash in the distance, and jumped again. It had to be the sea, she told herself, the waves crashing on the rocks below. But she knew it wasn't. The trapdoor had shut again. There was no way back.