Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis

Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis
(aka Harry Potter and the Light of Dragons)

Chapter 2 - Attack

The dream started as dreams sometimes do. A montage of images. A house, a cavern, a dragon, a glowing crystal sphere, an ocean, a mountain. Finally, a single image remained. A huge imposing fortress, on a cliffside, high above raging waves. Dark clouds shrouded a night sky, obscuring the moon and stars from the dreamers view.

A single illuminated window in the fortress. The view point of the dreamer moved closer and closer, until the window filled the vision. Bars covered the window, and covered the view of the room within. Light streamed from the window, though the dreamer could not see in.

The view point continued to move, as in the way of dreams, and the bars and window were passed through, showing the room beyond. A large stone room, filled with books and magical objects. An aura of evil, enough to make the bravest heart shake seemed to cover the room, a darkness seeming to seep from the object and books in the room. A room full of evil.

Inside, a tall figure stood. Waiting. Skeletally thin in robes of pure black, pale, almost bone white skin, with scarlet eyes. The dreamer knew this person. Lord Voldemort. He Who Must Not Be Named.

The door to the room opened, and a short, balding man entered. His hair was greying, and his small eyes seemed on the point of watering, but the viewer knew that this man, as well, was dangerous. From the sleeve of his right arm, a silver hand was glimpsed. Wormtail. This man had betrayed many to serve his master. As soon as he had entered the room, the door was closed, and Wormtail dropped to his knees in front of his Master.

"Report," Voldemort's sibilant voice echoed through the room.

"Master, we have begun bringing back into the fold the lower echelons of the Death Eaters. Many of them had pretended to turn back to the side of Good, but they have been very quick indeed to return to us." Wormtail cringed as he spoke, obviously fearful of his masters reaction.

Voldemort snarled, "How can they have come back so soon, after being so quick to abandon me? I suspect that we will have traitors and spies amongst us. We will need to ensure that we find them and make very public spectacles of their deaths."

Wormtail muttered his agreement, eyes flicking towards the doorway.

"And the other? Have you found … Potter?" Voldemort whispered, almost seeming to caress the name.

"My Lord, we have located his general location, but ... he is protected. Wards and protectors. And other things. He is with his blood kin, and Dumbledore has used this in the protection of boy."

Voldemort hissed. "And your plans to get to the boy? Have you made any, Wormtail? Or should I ask Lucius to assist you?"

Wormtail cringed at the mention of the name of Lucius Malfoy.

"My Lord, I will find a way to get to the boy. I have a number of means that could gain us access, and I have a special surprise for him when we do get through the wards."

"I don't need to remind you of the price of failure, do I, Wormtail?" Voldemort, a cruel smile on his face, glanced at a small object lying on a nearby shelf. A circular piece of metal, about the size of a hand and covered with long thin spikes on one side. Voldemort obviously had fond memories of this object, but as Wormtail's eyes flicked onto the object, he almost collapsed in fear.

"No, my lord. No ... No … I will not fail you," Wormtail babbled as he cowered on the floor.

Voldemort smiled and waved his hand in a dismissal of Wormtail.

As Wormtail started to stand again, the dreamer felt the point of view shift, and then recede. The castle fell away, and the greyness of wakefulness replaced it. Finally, the dream ended.

=================================================================================

Harry rolled over, pulling the blankets up over his head.

"Go 'way," he mumbled from under the covers.

The tawny, brown owl hooted again. It was perched on the windowsill, feathers rustling in the breeze coming through the open window. In its claws was a small package.

Harry mumbled something else, indecipherable due to the pillow wrapped around his head.

The owl hooted once more, and then dropped the package on the desk and flew out the window.

Harry groaned, and sat up in his bed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He looked over at the desk and the package, and sighed. It was 3:00 in the morning, and with a cold wind outside, his small bedroom was like ice. There was no way he really wanted to leave his nice warm bed, even for a mysterious package sent in the middle of the night.

In his sleepy state of mind, Harry racked his brain for any possible solution to the dilemma. How to get the package and stay in bed? Finally, his brain produced a solution. Wandless magic, maybe that was the key… He'd read about wandless magic in a few of school textbooks, such as "Recent and Relevant Magical History of the 20th Century" as well as "Charms and their Application in the real world" to name a couple. He'd seen Professor Dumbledore perform wandless magic all the time. Maybe it was something he could do.

Harry sat up straighter in his bed, his eyes narrowing in concentration, focusing his entire mind on moving the package onto the bed. His entire world became the parcel, and that it would move to the bed.

The parcel gave a little hop on the desk, and then didn't stir.

Practice was obviously the key in this. Harry smiled to himself, slightly encouraged by the slight movement of the package.

With a grumble and a very large shiver, Harry pulled off the blankets and got out of bed, moving over to the desk in the dim light, and picking up the package. He switched on the desk lamp (the cover all cracked and stained) and looked at the tiny scribbled writing.

To The Boy Who Lived

The handwriting didn't look familiar, and Harry thought nothing more of it until he opened the box. Inside was a lock of curly brown hair, and a shiny, silver Hogwarts Prefect badge. Harry knew immediately whose hair it was. Hermione.

Gently, Harry picked the lock of hair out of the box. Beneath it was a small piece of paper.

Know that I can reach all those that care about you, all those you care about. This is a small demonstration of my power. The mudblood shall be returned, but do not interfere again with me, or she and the others you care about will suffer the consequences.

There was no signature, but Harry knew that only Voldemort would do something like this. Voldemort had Hermione. VOLDEMORT HAD HERMIONE.

Harry's vision clouded over in rage, he could hear a loud roaring in his ears. Faintly he could hear breaking and shattering around him.

Thoughts of Hermione ran through his head. Hermione looking for Neville's toad on the Hogwarts express, Hermione studying in the library, Hermione and Ron and Harry together in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry almost burnt with rage at the thought of Hermione being abducted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. How DARE they?

With a deep breath, Harry forced himself to calm down and actually try and think. He looked around himself, at the wreckage of his room.

All the lights had been destroyed, with glass everywhere. The window had been blown outwards, frame and all, and his bed looked like someone had picked it up and thrown it repeatedly against a wall.

Harry's eye's grew wide, realising he must have done this in his uncontrollable anger, realising how great his rage must be to cause destruction like this.

Quickly, Harry snatched up a piece of Parchment (still in one piece thankfully) and quill and scribbled a quick message.

Professor Dumbledore,

I just received a note saying that Hermione has been taken by the Death Eaters, and a lock of her hair was also included. Can you tell me if she's ok? Is there anything I can do?

Harry

Harry quickly gave the note to Hedwig (who was looking mightily affronted as she emerged from a bent and battered cage) after scribbling Professor Dumbledore's name on the outside of the note. Hedwig gave Harry a reproachful look and flew out the window and into the night.

Harry sat down on the floor, carefully brushing any broken glass out of his way. There would be hell to pay tomorrow morning when the Dursley's saw the room. He'd be lucky if he was only sent back to the cupboard under the stairs. Likely they'd either put him in the garage, or toss him out on the street. Funny, he thought they'd have come in by now to investigate the noise.

As Harry sat, thinking about Hermione, he heard a noise outside his door. Harry grimaced, waiting for the inevitable tirade from his Uncle and Aunt about the room, about him using magic, about anything they could think of.

The door exploded inwards, showering Harry with pieces of broken wood. As Harry rolled and leaped for his wand resting on the floor near the remains of his desk, a fireball the size of a basketball burst into the room and exploded into the wall. Pieces of plaster and wood blew everywhere, as suddenly half the outside wall of Harry's room was gone.

His hand picking up his wand, Harry jumped to his feet. "Petrificus Totalus," Harry shouted, magic bursting from his wand and out through the broken door. Not staying still, Harry leaped to the other side of the room, just in time as a bolt of pure energy (could it have been a lightning bolt or was it something else Harry wondered) was fired at where he had just been.

Harry was totally outclassed by an opponent who was definitely looking to kill Harry as quickly and messily as possible. His only option was escape, regardless of how cowardly he thought it was. There was no chance of getting past whoever was attacking him, so he'd have to go out through the window. Looking around, Harry was surprised to see just how much of the wall had been destroyed by the spells cast by the mysterious assailant.

Harry fired off three spells almost simultaneously, mind focused purely on escape. A jelly legs spell and a disarming charm fired through the door to distract his attacker, and a summon spell bought his broomstick to his hand. Throwing his leg over it, he flew directly for the massive hole in the wall.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry threw his broomstick upwards as sharply as he could, putting every ounce of speed he could into it. The incredible force as he accelerated almost made him blackout, but it was worth it as he half saw, half felt, the spell miss his broomstick by mere centimetres as he sped off into the night, aiming high above the trees.

=================================================================================

The dark cloaked figure stepped into the wreckage of Harry's room. The occasional spell was cast, moving large pieces of wood and plaster around, as the figure searched the room for something.

Finally, the figure bent down in front of the largest pile of rubble and retrieved something small and shiny.

With a small 'pop' the figure vanished.

=================================================================================

Harry flew high into the night sky, urging the broomstick on as fast as he could. He wasn't going in any particular direction, but simply fled the vicious attack. The cold night air whipped the loose sleeves and pants of his pyjamas as he bent low on his broomstick, looking back for any pursuers or another attack.

As Harry fled, he finally began to think a little more rationally about the attack, and realised he had obviously left his attacker behind. He was sure that there had been only one attacker, otherwise they would have definitely overpowered him, or likely attacked him as soon as he tried to flee.

Harry gradually angled the broomstick down towards the ground, and eased off the speed. He was over a residential area, with house lights and streetlights speeding by underneath him. Carefully looking around, Harry landed in a small, dark street.

Once his feet had touched the ground, Harry jumped off his broomstick and dragged it into the shadows underneath a large tree. Panting loudly, and trembling, Harry half collapsed, half sat down on the pavement beneath the tree.

Who had attacked him? Why? And most importantly, what about the defences and protection that he was supposedly surrounded with? That was the only reason why he went back each year at the end of the school term, but someone had been able to attack and almost kill him. How could they have breached those protections without some kind of warning, someone coming to help Harry?

Harry wiped his hand across his forehead, realising that sweat was streaming down him. He felt hot and cold at the same time; he still felt his heart beating at a million beats a minute.

With a deep breath, Harry forced himself to look around and check out where he was stranded.

The small dark street seemed very long, almost an alley. It seemed that houses only backed onto this street with back fences creating the alleyway, so there were no streetlights. Only trees lined the street, with moonlight casting shadows at strange angles. A couple of gates into various residences were in Harry's line of sight, but they would most likely be locked.

What to do now? Harry could definitely claim that using his broomstick to escape didn't violate the underage wizarding laws, but now he was out of immediate danger, he probably wouldn't be allowed to use magic (or his broomstick) again.

Hailing the Knight Bus was an option, but it might just alert whoever was looking to kill him. Surely that would be the obvious escape route, and who knew if the mysterious assailant was working alone. Maybe the best option was to head for London and find his way to the Leaky Cauldron. From there he might be able to floo to the Weasley's or Hogwarts or something. Surely he would even be safer in Diagon Alley than standing in the shadows of an alley in the muggle world, unable to use magic.

With a grimace, Harry wondered how he would hitch a ride to London in his pyjamas.

=================================================================================

Morning dawned on a very tired Harry trudging alone a small road, winding through some fields, far from the nearest muggle town. His feet on autopilot, he hadn't even noticed the scenery changing, simply concentrating on moving one foot after the other. The dusty road seemed to stretch on forever, disappearing off in the distance amongst fields of green grass and tall trees.

Harry's eyes kept trying to close on him, no matter how hard he tried to keep them focussed on the road in front of him. As they drifted closed, he would stumble, bringing him back to full wakefulness for another couple of minutes.

With his broomstick over his shoulder, and wearing oversized flannel pyjamas, he definitely looked very strange and out of place. Harry was very glad that he hadn't seen anyone while he'd been walking, he looked like a clean Victorian era chimney sweep.

As Harry's eyes drifted closed again, he stumbled hard against a large stone, gashing his toe and foot rather badly.

"Dammit!" Harry could have screamed in frustration. He was tired, angry and hungry. His feet hurt and it had been at least an hour since he last stopped for a rest. With a grimace, he stumbled over to the side of the road, and sat in the shade below a tall tree.

Bending over to look at his foot, Harry was surprised at just how much blood seemed to be pouring out of his foot.

Should he risk performing a simple healing charm, or should he just bandage it with something and hope it's ok? The Underage Magic law was really the only reason why Harry hadn't performed any magic at all this morning, and finally, in his frustration, tired at being exhausted and dirty, Harry decided he was going to take the risk, and if he got an owl delivering a warning, at least he could use it to tell someone where he was and what had happened to him that night.

Pulling his wand out from the waistband of his pyjamas, Harry performed the simple "Medicor" charm, and watched as the cuts on his toes and foot slowly closed up. It felt very strange, Harry decided, having the skin essentially growing back into place at an accelerated rate. Very ticklish.

Once the skin had healed, deciding that now would be a good time for a quick break, Harry walked over to some nearby bushes. They kind of looked like some pictures of blackberry bushes he had seen, and as he was getting very hungry, anything he could find to eat would hopefully help keep him going. Squatting down behind the bushes, out of sight of the road, he began to look for any edible berries.

=================================================================================

In a dim, dark stone chamber, two figures stared intently at a map resting on the marble table before them. The room was huge and lit only by a large flickering flame of light magically hanging near the entrance, and a number of small magical balls of light sitting on the table. The polished stone floor had a huge engraving of a stylised teardrop near the entrance, two thick metal doors, an engraving that someone entering the room would walk over and definitely notice. The teardrop looked like an endless pool of water that had been shaped, though at second glance, even though the water seemed to move and ripple, the teardrop itself did not move and was completely solid.

A single point of light flashed on the map, and the figures bent over it quickly, peering intently. A single muttered word and the map grew larger on the table, showing an exact position of where the flaring point of light had appeared, and was now fading.

"Potter has revealed himself," the voice was harsh, impatient and deep. The words literally dripped with malice and hatred.

The second figure spoke in a soft, echoing whisper, "Send the Hunter to deal with the boy. This time, use the Hounds to ensure there are no mistakes. Even Potter …" the second voice paused momentarily as if considering, "even the GREAT Harry Potter cannot stand against them. Tell the Hunter to return once he has loosed the hounds. There is no reason to worry if the Hounds fail, as our plan is still running smoothly, and one way or another, Potter will fall into our hands. And then, he will SUFFER."

"Your will, my Master," the first figure bowed slightly and strode towards the entrance.

The second figure leaned forward, gaze focused on the sparkling silver Hogwarts Prefect badge in the centre of the table.

=================================================================================

The sharp thorn pierced his finger, and Harry bit back a yell. So far he hadn't found any edible berries and had pricked most of his fingers trying to move the branches..

A sudden noise on the road got Harry's attention, simply because it was like nothing he had heard before, either in the muggle or magic world. It sounded like an echo of a door opening, but with something different about it.

Harry stayed low, the recent attack on his very fresh in his mind, and moved a number of branches out of the way so he could see the road. What he saw didn't make any sense to him.

A single flame burned bright and high on the road with nothing appearing to fuel it. It was obviously a magic fire, but Harry couldn't see anyone who could have cast the spell. And why have a single flame burning on a road? It didn't make sense.

Suddenly the flame moved, and Harry again looked around for whoever was casting the spell. Still no-one in sight. Something was definitely up, and Harry wasn't going to budge until he knew whether it was a friend or foe that was casting the spells in his vicinity.

The flame moved in a horizontal line leaving a straight line of fire where it travelled. Once it had moved about a metre, it stopped, and then moved again, this time straight up into the air, again leaving a trail of flame behind it. This continued as it quickly made a rectangle of flame, standing in the air.

Harry had never seen anything like it in his life. And why would someone do something like this? There didn't seem to be any rational …

Harry's train of though was interrupted as suddenly a glowing, rippling light appeared between the lines of fire. It was almost like a sheet of liquid light. From this light, emerged a man. The man was covered from head to toe in an enormous black cloak, covering his face and all his extremities. Only by the way he moved Harry knew that it was a man. It was a very purposeful stride, almost arrogant in the way he moved. No woman could move like that.

Harry's scar twinged a little, as it sometimes did, as he stared at this man and the glowing .. gateway .. portal … doorway .. whatever it was. Harry decided that it must be some kind of doorway, a magical means of transport that he had never heard about

The man was now clear of the gateway and a hand, encased in a old looking leather glove, emerged from under the cloak, holding a wand. A few muttered words, no matter how hard Harry strained he couldn't quite catch them, and the man cast a glowing mist out of his wand. The mist hung in the air for a moment, and then dropped to the ground in two separate areas. The mist swirled, as if a strong wind was blowing them, and took on the forms of two huge dogs. Slowly, colour seeped into the forms until finally, the two dogs were fully fleshed and salivating, as if eager to do their summoners bidding.

Harry had no illusions that he had seen anything except some very advanced magic. He had never heard rumours of any of the spells this wizard seemed to be casting, and it worried Harry as this was obviously someone who would be working for Voldemort. Anyone who dressed like that, arrived in such a strange way, must have something to hide, and the obvious thing was being a Death Eater.

The figure clicked his fingers, and the dogs looked attentively at him.

"Potter," the man said in a deep, gruff voice filled with anger.

Immediately, the dogs started to sniff around. Harry felt panic start to set in. He couldn't stand against these two dogs and the wizard at the same time. However, the wizard, after a short time watching the dogs sniff, strode back into the doorway, which promptly vanished in a silent implosion of fire.

Great, now he was only facing two huge dogs. Harry grimly drew his wand and made ready to defend himself. He knew there was no way of escape on foot, and flying would make it easier for the wizard to attack if he reappeared. For all he knew, the wizard was only invisible and waiting for Harry to show himself in an escape attempt.

With a short bark, that sounded more like the echo of a bark than a bark itself, one of the dogs started towards the bushes he was hiding behind. Harry aimed carefully and fired the full body bind spell at it. The spell hit the dog in the head, but rather than collapsing, the dog reverted back to mist, which then completely drifted away in the wind, leaving only a slight burnt mark on the ground. The second dog, however, didn't waste any time and bounded towards Harry with incredible speed.

Harry aimed his wand at the approaching dog, eyes focus on the huge mouth with incredibly sharp teeth, that was approaching. He felt as if time slowed down, but he couldn't raise his wand fast enough, couldn't utter the spell fast enough. He knew he was going to die.

Out of nowhere, a huge mastiff barrelled into the side of the dog, pushing it to the ground and rolling over. The two dogs began to fight, with the mastiff ripping huge, vaporous holes in the dog. Finally, as the mastiff's teeth touched the dog's throat, it vanished.

Harry leapt up and ran towards the mastiff, which promptly transformed into the gaunt, untidy figure of Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather.

"Sirius! Are you ok? Thanks for saving me, I tried and I got the first one and …" Harry babbled at Sirius as he reached him and leapt into a hug with his Godfather.

"Harry, calm down. I'm ok. What the hell is going on around here?" Harry could feel Sirius holding him tight.

Finally Harry relaxed his grip on Sirius and Sirius let go of Harry, and they stepped back.

"Harry, what's going on? I got an urgent owl from Dumbledore saying you had disappeared. He's got dozens of people looking all over the countryside and the nearby towns for you. We all suspected that Voldemort had gotten to you."

Harry looked at Sirius, noting the worry lines that seemed to be etched into his face. With Harry disappearing like he had after being attacked, of course everyone would assume that Voldemort had gotten him.

"I'm fine, Sirius. Someone attacked me at the Dursley's but I escaped on my broomstick. Once I landed, I decided I'd try and get to Diagon alley, but I guess I didn't think about how far it was, or where I was really going. I'm buggered if I know where I am now."

"You're only about 2 miles from Little Whinging."

Harry grimaced, "And I've been walking for hours. Anyway, this guy appeared out of a, fiery doorway, I guess you'd call it, and summoned those two dogs out of mist. I got one, and luckily you arrived here to get the second."

Sirius frowned, "It's only luck I got here when I did. I guessed that you must have used your broomstick when I couldn't smell you on foot anywhere around the Dursley's, luckily I picked the right direction and found your trail."

Harry grinned, "Thanks for coming and finding me. I've missed you."

"No time for that Harry, we need to get you out of here. Take this portkey," Sirius handed Harry an old tin can. "I've got to round up the people looking for you, and we've got to get back to what we've been doing. I'm sorry I haven't written to you, but I promise I'll write to you as soon as I can. Maybe I can see you. Anyway, the word to activate the portkey is "crunchy"".

Harry smiled, "Thanks Sirius. I've missed you, but I understand." Picking up his broom, Harry activated the portkey.

A hook seemed to penetrate his navel, and with a sharp tug, he was elsewhere.

=================================================================================

As Harry disappeared, Sirius sighed. He had never heard of the kind of magic that Harry had described, but he knew that Harry had told the truth. The fight with that ghostly dog proved that. He felt cold all over when he thought of that dog and what it could have done to Harry.

Sirius looked around, noting the two blackened spots where the dogs had disappeared from and shivered. It seemed that Voldemort had gotten some powerful new spells. It worried him as they hadn't heard anything about the new magic, or the attack on Harry. Could Voldemort have already discovered who their operatives were? Should their spies be pulled out of their Death Eater disguises now, before anyone was captured or killed?

So many unanswered questions, and in this war, unanswered questions could get a lot of people killed.

Sirius transformed back into his animagus form, a huge mastiff dog and bounded down the road.