Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

Chapter Seventeen: Clear Lake Manor

But Harry had already found what he was looking for, in a crude-looking clay bowl near the farthest edge of the mantelpiece. He grabbed a handful of the Floo powder and tossed it into the fire. The flames instantly burned a deep purple, and cast an iridescent violet glow over the room.

"Ready? " he said. "Follow me. " Straightening his glasses, Harry stepped into the fire.

"Clear Lake Manor, " he said, careful to enunciate each syllable.

***

Harry was careful to keep his elbows in, and not to fidget, and as a result he only wobbled the tiniest bit when he landed in a cloud of soot in the Clearwaters' stone fireplace.

It was dark inside the Clearwaters' house. The combination of the soot, the time of day (nearing evening), and being indoors with no lighting made it feel as though it were nighttime. As Harry might have expected, it appeared that no one was home.

Cautiously but quickly, since Ron and Hermione were likely to follow any second, he stepped out of the fireplace and into the large ballroom. For a split second he considered calling out, on the off chance that any of the Clearwaters did happen to be home, but instantly he realized how foolish this would be. Of course it would be best for all three of them to keep as quiet as possible. As Harry scanned the room, and peered into adjoining rooms to make sure no one was there, he heard a thud in the fireplace. He rushed over and found Ron steadying himself in the midst of his own cloud of soot.

"Come on, " Harry whispered, helping Ron out of the fireplace. They had taken a couple of steps into the ballroom when Ron spoke.

"So he's--You-Know-Who's--here, then? But, where are the Clearwaters? "

"Just have a look around. " Hermione's voice startled Harry--he hadn't heard her arrive. He turned around. She was stepping out of the fireplace, leaving an unfortunately sooty shoeprint on the pristine marble floor. "Doesn't look like anyone's been here for a few days, does it? They must be away. "

She was right. Harry had noticed it at once: no candles were lit, and all the furniture was tucked tidily under dust covers. Even the objects on the shelves were placed just so, and covered with a fine layer of dust, as if they hadn't been touched for at least a week.

"Makes sense, doesn't it? " Harry asked her. "Voldemort's trying to keep as low a profile as possible. He wouldn't come here while the Clearwaters were here. "

"But why would he come here at all? " Ron asked.

"Hmm, " was all Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. He moved to a large picture window overlooking the grounds, including the garden where Percy and Penelope were married last summer.

It was surrounded, just as it had been then and later in his dream, by a tall, ivy-covered wall, which prevented Harry from seeing into the garden from where he stood. The moment he turned back to Ron and Hermione, she spoke.

"We know this has something to do with Professor Green, right? Well, what if Voldemort needed her for his plan, whatever it is? Let's assume she's not in on it. If that's true--well, we know that it's very difficult to ambush a person at Hogwarts--just think how many times he's tried to get at you, Harry. But what if, knowing her family was away, he lured her here somehow? That might not be so difficult to do. "

Ron looked as confused as Harry felt. "But why would he need Green, Hermione? "

She shrugged. "No idea. " She turned to Harry. "You know more about this than either of us. What shall we do next? "

Harry turned back to the picture window. "We have to go there, " he said, pointing. "The garden. "

Hermione considered this for a moment. "Alright, but first let's get an idea what we're up against. "

They crept gingerly up the main staircase and peeked out the window at the first floor landing. There in the garden was the scene from Harry's dream: Pettigrew, Green, Voldemort, and a huge cauldron suspended over a crackling fire.

Ron and Hermione wore identical looks of shock, which soon faded into a somber sort of resolve.

"Pettigrew, " Hermione whispered.

"And--him. You-Know-Who, " Ron finished, a little shakily.

"That's what I saw in my dream, " Harry explained. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. But I have to try to stop him, you understand--I can't let him finish brewing whatever's in that cauldron so he can become immortal. And I don't know how much time we have before that happens. " He turned away from the window and looked from Hermione to Ron. "I reckon I shouldn't have brought you two here without telling you what you were getting into--if you want to just stay here, you'll probably be safer -I'd understand-- "

Ron and Hermione stared at each other, then at Harry. They looked scandalized.

"You mental or something? " Ron finally said. "There's no way we'd let you go out there alone! Besides, there are three of us and three of them--Hermione and I even the odds a bit, don't we? " He gave them both a sardonic smile. "Plus, we've got a tactical advantage--the element of surprise. Come on, let's go. "

They had an easy time finding a back door and slipping out soundlessly. Once they were outside, they looked around. Overhead, a thick blanket of clouds obscured the sky, and made it seem colder than it really was. Keeping cautiously to the side of the house--Harry now wished he had thought to bring his Invisibility Cloak with him--they followed a narrow strip of grass to the back lawn.

The garden wall was surrounded on all sides by several yards of rolling grass that was just greening up from a wintertime of hibernation. The grassy lawn, in turn, was surrounded by a thick wood. Ahead of them, the wood extended all the way down to the cliff overlooking the large lake.

Ron and Hermione followed Harry as he crept quietly up to the back garden wall. Harry thought he remembered exactly where the opening in the wall would be: if they followed the wall around the corner to their left, they would be standing directly in front of it. Slowly they edged their way around, pressing themselves flat against the rough ivy-covered stone, to find the opening to the garden exactly where they had expected it. When they stood just outside it, they could hear voices.

"--ready soon. Then the Basilisk venom can be added-- "

The voice was Pettigrew's. And from the agitated sound of it, he seemed to be nearly finished brewing whatever potion they had seen in the cauldron.

Harry was unsure what to do. The three of them couldn't very well burst into the garden and take on Voldemort just like that. In fact, Harry didn't have any idea how he was going to ascertain whether Professor Green was a Death Eater or an Imperius victim, much less help her, if she needed help.

Ron seemed to read his mind. "Do you know any way of getting a person out from under the Imperius curse? " he whispered. Harry and Hermione shook their heads. He looked from Harry to Hermione and said, "Harry, I don't think we've thought this through. "

Ron was right; they hadn't. They weren't even wearing their cloaks. Normally they wouldn't have needed them at this time of year, but they were already shivering--tonight would be very cold.

Harry peered covertly around the corner, through the archway. He could just see a sliver of the great cauldron; the hem of a robe; a hand with a wand in it. Then, suddenly, Professor Green moved partially into his line of sight. He carefully considered her dull, unfocused gaze, and wondered whether Snape and Dumbledore were right about her being cursed.

Suddenly Harry felt a strong, sinewy hand clasp itself over his mouth. He was just about to yell, when he turned and caught sight of the hand's owner--Snape. He looked even more cross than usual.

"Have you any idea how much danger you've put yourselves in? " he whispered fiercely as he steered Harry and Ron, whose mouth was covered by Snape's other hand, away from the garden, back around the side of the great house, and into the shadow of the forest.

Only when they were well inside the wood did Snape remove his hands from their mouths. Hermione had followed, looking alternately relieved and horror-stricken.

"I returned to my office just in time to see Miss Granger disappear into my fireplace, " he hissed. "I assumed that an errand taking five minutes' time would not have required me to lock my office door. But I should have known better than to leave it unlocked, even for a few minutes, with you three on the loose! It took me several minutes to track down exactly where you had gone. " He leaned toward them, his voice lowered dangerously. "Do you have any idea what you've nearly done? If you'd been discovered--you're lucky I came upon you when I did! "

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Professor, Harry tried to find you, but you weren't in your office! "

"Silence, Miss Granger! " Snape nearly shouted, momentarily forgetting to keep his voice down. He immediately lowered his voice to a whisper again. "That is of no consequence, at any rate. Now that I know the whereabouts of the Dark Lord and Professor Green-- " thanks to me, Harry thought grumpily-- "I must act. I cannot allow her to remain under the Imperius curse. "

"Professor Snape. " Harry regarded Snape levelly, remembering with a touch of regret their argument earlier in the day. "How do you know for sure that she's under Imperius? If you're wrong-- "

"I am not, " Snape interrupted, returning Harry's level gaze with his own. His voice had a hint of threat in it, and it was clear that he did not intend to explain, or allow an argument.

Harry was considering this, and had just decided that it wasn't worth arguing with Snape, when he heard a voice--or perhaps it was two?-- shouting through the wood, "Stupefy! "--and the world went black.

***

"Enervate. "

Harry opened his eyes. It took them a moment to focus properly, and as they did so, a gnawing, sickly feeling crept over him. He realized that his scar was throbbing. Even before he was fully conscious, he instinctively knew that something was very wrong.

The images that swam into focus proved his instinct right. It was later in the evening now, almost completely dark; but the sky had cleared, to display a bright half-moon. The only other source of light was a fire, located a few feet away, under a very large cauldron.

Harry was seated on the ground in a corner, the ivy-covered back garden wall to his right, his back against the adjoining wall. To his left sat Ron, Hermione, and Snape. And before him stood three figures: on the right, Professor Green, who regarded the four seated figures with a kind of vague curiosity; on the left, Peter Pettigrew, who fidgeted nervously and seemed to be trying not to look directly at Harry. And in the middle- that pale white skin; those long, spidery fingers; that thin, lipless gash of a mouth forming itself into a malicious smile--stood Voldemort.

"You, " Ron whispered.

"Oh no, " Hermione uttered almost simultaneously.

Harry tried to stand up, but found that he was bound tightly by vines like the ones covering the garden wall. He was reminded fleetingly of Quirrell's spell in the dungeons at Hogwarts his first year: the spell that had bound him with ropes that had seemed to appear out of nowhere. Voldemort must have used a similar spell to bind Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Snape--for they, too, were covered and with vines that snaked around their limbs and held them immobile.

A very large snake--Harry recognized it as the one that had circled him in the graveyard last year--slithered up to Harry and stared at him intently. Harry struggled against the vines, but they held him fast.

"Not yet, " Voldemort whispered to the snake, "but soon, Nagini, very soon. "

Voldemort's gaze moved from the snake to Harry.

"Harry Potter. Now, this is puzzling. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit? Did you miss me so much that you decided to make our meetings an annual tradition? Or were you perhaps brought here by someone else-- " He turned his gaze on Snape, who looked as though he were still waking up from the Stunning Spell.

"Yes, Master, " Snape muttered. His voice sounded strangely obsequious--Harry had never heard him use this tone, not even with Dumbledore. "I--ascertained your location and contrived to bring the Potter boy here to you. These two friends of his happened to be in the way. "

"And how did you find me, Severus? Lucius? "

"Yes, my lord--as soon as Professor Green disappeared, I went to Lucius and he told me-- "

"LIAR! " Voldemort pointed his wand at Snape. Harry's head pounded and his heart lurched; he had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming next. "Crucio! "

Snape's entire body convulsed, and he screamed in agony. Ron and Hermione cringed and looked away, their eyes shut tightly. After what seemed like years, but must have only been a few seconds, Voldemort raised his wand. Snape stopped trembling and sat motionless and silent.

"You always were an effective liar, Severus--a trait which I found singularly valuable when you were in my service. But now that you presume to lie to me, I am less inclined to look favorably upon it. Though I did tolerate it for quite some time, to be sure. " He crouched nimbly and looked Snape in the face at eye level. "Let us be honest, shall we? We both know that you are no longer a true Death Eater. I have known as much for over a decade; I merely found it convenient to play along with your facade for the past few months in order to obtain the necessary ingredients for my potion. " At this he looked over his shoulder at the great cauldron, from which a light haze, now colored a violent shade of fuchsia, had begun to rise. "Now that I no longer require your services, we can dispense with the charade. "

Snape said nothing. Voldemort reached out a ghastly white, long fingered hand and gingerly placed it around Snape's throat.

"Tell me, Severus, " he said casually. "Who knows that you are here? Did you happen to leave a note for Albus Dumbledore--your real master--before you stepped into that fireplace? " Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Voldemort tightened his grip before Snape could utter a sound.

"A word of warning: do not lie to me. " Voldemort's voice was as deadly cold as the steel of a knife blade.

He released Snape's throat and crouched, waiting. "No, " Snape finally responded, hoarsely. "No one knows we're here. " Voldemort considered this for a few seconds, then appeared satisfied, and stood.

"My lord, " a squeaky voice interjected. Voldemort turned to face Pettigrew. "Perhaps it would be wise to call the others. They could help us handle these--intruders. You know how difficult that boy can be-- " He motioned toward Harry.

"Help us like last time, you mean? " Voldemort answered, shooting Pettigrew a withering look. "I think not; they would only get in the way. I will call them when I need them. I do not need them now. " Pettigrew nodded and stepped back, as though willing Voldemort to turn his gaze elsewhere.

"Well, this is a rather interesting turn of events, " Voldemort said, almost cheerfully. He turned to face Harry--as a searing pain shot through Harry's skull.

Voldemort began to pace up and down before the four of them. "Harry Potter, it seems that you have come in search of me for once. How--convenient. I must say, this is unexpected good fortune. Of course, I will kill you--all of you. Except, I think, for one. " He paused, eyeing Snape, Hermione, and Ron in turn. "Yes. I would like to send just one witness back to Dumbledore with the news of my triumph. "

"Send them back, " Snape growled suddenly. "I betrayed you, it's true--keep me and send these hormone-addled imbeciles back to Hogwarts. They will pose no threat to you there; they're far too thick to be of any use to Dumbledore-- "

"Silence, Severus! " Voldemort interrupted. "Your magnanimity is touching, but I did not ask-- "

"Send Hermione! " Ron blurted breathlessly. "You can keep the rest of us, just send her back--she's got a good memory, she'll tell Dumbledore everything you want her to-- "

"Ron, shut up! " Hermione muttered.

"SILENCE! " Voldemort yelled, his face contorted with rage. Ron and Hermione fell silent. Voldemort turned to Harry. "I think I know one who will certainly not leave this garden alive. Stand up, Potter. "

Voldemort waved his wand. At once, the vines unwound themselves from Harry's limbs; he stood, facing Voldemort.

"As I recall, there is the little matter of a duel to be settled between us, " Voldemort drawled, reaching into his robes and pulling out his wand. "No Portkey in sight this time, Potter. I will defeat you, and one of our three friends will take the news of your death back to that insult to the purity of the wizarding race, Albus Dumbledore. He, in turn, will spread the word--and the entire wizarding world will live in fear of me once again! " Instinctively, Harry drew his own wand. But Voldemort did not point his wand at Harry; instead, he reached back and, still training his murderous gaze on Harry, motioned Professor Green forward. She drew her wand.

Voldemort's eyes glittered. "Apparently our wands prefer not to fight one another, Harry. And using another wizard's wand would put either of us at a disadvantage--and we cannot have that. No. " He turned to Professor Green. "However, using another wizard--or in this case, a witch--puts me at no great disadvantage, I think. "

Harry shook his head. "I'm not fighting her. Or you. "

Voldemort laughed. "Fine. You'll make it easy, then. " Harry turned to see Professor Green's face twisted in a sadistic smile that, except for the distant gaze, was an exact reproduction of Voldemort's own expression. She pointed her wand at Harry.

"Crucio! "

Harry flung himself on the ground and rolled out of the way. The curse missed him, hitting the garden wall a short distance above Hermione's head. She gave a startled cry. Alarmed, she and Ron struggled fiercely, but vainly, against the vines binding them.

Harry stood up and backed away carefully--he was no longer standing in front of the others, so at least now they were less likely to be hit by curses that he dodged or deflected. Professor Green advanced, following him as he backed toward the other end of the garden. Reluctantly, he pointed his wand at her. He was convinced now that she was cursed, and he preferred not to harm her if he could avoid it. "Expelliarmus! "

She deflected the spell easily, with a slight flick of her wand, and continued advancing on him. He took a step back--and felt the rough stone wall press against him. He had nowhere to go; she was standing between him and the archway. He was trapped.

"Professor! " he cried. "You have to fight! You can't let him make you do this! "

She stopped and stood for a moment, frowning in an expression of mild puzzlement. She looked around distractedly. Behind her, by the light of the fire Harry saw Voldemort raise his wand again and mutter something. Green shuddered, and looked at Harry once more--the glazed expression had returned. She pointed her wand at him. He realized that she was going to be a difficult target for the Disarming spell; his best bet would be to try to disarm her physically.

"Crucio! " she shouted again.

Harry turned, dodged the curse, and in one fluid motion closed the distance between them. He moved to kick the wand out of her hand, but she anticipated this and stepped back, causing him to miss. Just as he regained his footing, she advanced and, before he knew what had happened, she jerked his wand out of his hand. He stepped back--and tripped over an azalea bush. He fell backward, his hands reaching behind him to break his fall. She pocketed his wand, still moving toward him.

He quickly untangled his legs from the nearly leafless branches of the bush. Professor Green spoke in an impatient tone that could have been a spot-on imitation of Voldemort. "I said, 'Crucio!' "

A surge of panic coursed through Harry--he had to find a way to protect himself against those white-hot knives of pain. He put his hands out to shield himself, causing him to drop onto his back in the dirt. The curse that issued from Green's wand, to his amazement, appeared to bounce off an invisible barrier between them and shoot off into the inky night sky.

Green regarded him curiously for a second, then reached down and picked him up by the throat. He struggled, clawing at her arms, kicking out wildly, and even landing some square blows. But she didn't so much as flinch; she didn't seem to feel pain at all. And he couldn't extract himself from her grasp, she was too strong. Still smiling contentedly, she pointed her wand at Harry's throat and carried him back to Voldemort. Harry punched and kicked out savagely, but it had no effect. He could hear Voldemort's high, soft laughter as they drew closer.

Harry had to do something, anything--he couldn't allow himself to be killed like this. Not even by Voldemort, but by someone who, if she somehow lived through this, would herself be tormented by the memory of what she had done.

He reached out hopelessly--and his hand closed around something she was carrying in a sheath at her side. He looked down and saw it, next to a small leather pouch, attached to a belt tied around her waist. It was a knife.

He heard her begin to utter a curse. Without thinking, Harry drew the knife and struck out with all his strength.

"Avada Ked-- " she began, but broke off in a terrible squeak. She let go of his throat, and Harry dropped to the ground. He looked up.

Green's eyes were fixed on the knife, which had been plunged into her heart, all the way up to the hilt. Behind her, Voldemort swore and lowered his wand. Gasping irregular, rattling breaths, Green looked from the knife to Harry. The glazed-over expression was gone, and Harry could tell that she was registering with perfect clarity what she knew to be the last seconds of her life. Her eyes held his in a helpless gaze, her mouth open in an unframed question. Then she staggered several steps and fell on her back in front of Ron, Hermione, and Snape where they were bound.

Hermione burst into tears. Ron gaped, horrified. Snape's face was the picture of uncomprehending shock: he simply stared at her, his mouth open, his eyes wide. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a single syllable, a soft no almost like a breath.

Professor Green drew a final long, rattling breath, and fell silent.

"Idiot girl! Wormtail, watch him, " Voldemort ordered as he walked to the spot where Professor Green lay. Blood coursed extravagantly from the knife wound, tracing tiny red rivulets over her neck and soaking her robes. Her eyes were fixed in a lifeless gaze that reminded Harry with sickening force of Cedric.

Pettigrew advanced and trained his wand on Harry, exerting a visible effort not to look away. Voldemort stood over Green, surveying her angrily. Before she had even stopped twitching, he placed one boot on her shoulder and savagely yanked the knife out. She shuddered once and was still.

Voldemort calmly considered the blood-covered knife in his hand. "Pity, " he said casually. "She might have been of great use to me alive. Still, I have what I needed from her, don't I? " As he said this, he looked at Pettigrew, who nodded distractedly. While Pettigrew kept his eyes, and his wand, on Harry, Voldemort walked over to the bubbling cauldron and dropped the knife into it.

Harry was pierced by a terrible pang of remorse--he hadn't meant to kill Professor Green, only to keep her from killing him. His right hand was stained with blood; horrified, he wiped it on the corner of his robes. Harry looked up to see Pettigrew still woodenly pointing his wand at him, as Voldemort turned away from the cauldron.

Harry felt rage boil up within him, like the liquid simmering within the cauldron. None of this should have happened; it was all Voldemort's fault. He had ruined and destroyed far too many lives. He could not be allowed to become immortal. It was too cruel that Harry had no way of stopping him.

"What's wrong, Harry? " Voldemort taunted him. He looked from Harry to Professor Green and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, yes--sorry about your teacher. Entirely my fault, that was. I suppose I underestimated you. " Voldemort raised his wand; a few feet in front of him, Pettigrew still stood with his own wand trained on Harry. Voldemort continued. "Well, enough dawdling, I think. I am her second, after all, and I suppose it is time to end this duel. You know, that was an impressive display of wandless magic. Pity you won't be able to deflect this. " He spoke the last word deadly soft, ending in a hiss.

Harry knew what was coming, and he knew that Voldemort was right. He wouldn't be able to deflect the Killing curse; no one in history had ever been able to do that. The only thing that could possibly defend Harry against Voldemort now was his own wand--and that was still tucked away in the pocket of Professor Green's robes. Harry took a deep breath, and moved toward her.

"I think not. Wormtail! " Voldemort shouted, and Pettigrew, his wand drawn, stepped between Harry and Professor Green. Now that they stood face to face, Harry got a good look at Pettigrew. He was sweating copiously. What little hair he had once had was all but gone, and his eyes were sunken into his skull. He had lost a lot of weight since that night in the Shrieking Shack.

"Master, " Pettigrew squeaked. "Are you certain that this is the best way? Perhaps we should keep him alive-- "

"Quiet! " roared Voldemort, who kept his wand aimed at Harry's throat. "Wormtail, I am beginning to doubt your loyalty to me. "

"No, my lord, " Pettigrew mumbled, somewhat desperately, and grew silent. Harry considered physically pushing Pettigrew out of the way and diving for his wand, but realized that doing this would once again put Ron and Hermione in the path of any missed curse that Voldemort might aim at him.

"Finally, Harry Potter. " Voldemort smiled wickedly, and his voice was almost a whisper now. "Finally, I will see you dead. "

Harry stepped backward. He refused to turn his back and run, but he still instinctively wanted to put as much distance between himself and Voldemort as possible. This is good, he thought. Ron and Hermione are out of the line of fire now, and that's good.

"No, my lord! " Pettigrew exclaimed, entirely against his will. His eyes were wild with fear, and he walked toward Harry as though pulled by an invisible force.

But he would not get to Harry in time to make any difference. As Voldemort began to form the words, Harry heard the rushing sound, and before the Dark Lord had spoken the third syllable of the Killing curse, Harry thought he saw green light begin to fill in the edges of his vision. He shut his eyes tight, and waited.

Even with his eyes closed, Harry could see the blinding flash of green. It began, he noticed, even before Voldemort had finished pronouncing the curse. Harry shuddered in an unexpected fit of protest at the unfairness of it: his life was already being cut horribly short--to have it shortened any more, even by a mere fraction of a second, was too much of an injustice.

And then, as soon as they had come, the wind and light were gone. Harry stood, his feet planted firmly. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

At first he couldn't make sense of it--everything appeared just as it had before he had closed them. Then a possibility occurred to him: was he a ghost? He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He held his hands out in front of him, and clasped them together. No, he was solid. Somehow, he had survived.

Before him, the Dark Lord stood motionless. To his left, but unnoticed by him, Snape, Ron, and Hermione were untangling themselves from the vines which had bound them a few seconds ago. The vines looked brittle now, having taken on a very dead-looking brown color. On the ground before the three of them, forgotten by Voldemort, Professor Green half sat, half leaned back on one hand, pointing her wand at Voldemort with the other. That was why the curse had come before Voldemort had finished uttering it: she had cursed Voldemort before he had had the chance to curse Harry.

But Voldemort wasn't dead. At worst, he merely looked as if he had been stunned by a jolt of electricity, and was now recovering from the temporary discomfort of it. He blinked, and looked around.

Between Voldemort and Harry, Peter Pettigrew lay crumpled in a heap on the ground. He was completely unmarked--but unmistakably dead. Just as Harry noticed him, Voldemort saw the lifeless body, too; a slow, lipless smile spread across his face. Then, he began to laugh.

In the glow of the firelight, as Voldemort turned to look at Pettigrew, Harry saw something on the right side of his neck, just below his ear. It was a small, thin scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"A scar--that's it! " Hermione blurted. "The scroll--the glyphs--the protective charms--why didn't I see it before? The curse doesn't create the scar; the scar blocks the curse! "

***