A Surfeit of Wands

Chapter Ten: Promises

The two Death Eaters moved slowly round the cavern, searching behind every fallen rock and in every corner. Occasionally one would stop and peer at the wall, before running his - at least I think they're 'his', Harry thought; it was difficult to tell if the figures under the robes and masks were male or female - hands down the wall as if hoping to find Harry pressed flat against it. They know about the Invisibility Cloak, then. Harry grimaced, a sick feeling in his stomach. Another advantage gone. Throughout the careful search, Malfoy remained at the entrance, talking in low tones with the third Death Eater, blocking any hopes Harry had had of making a dash for freedom. He knew that Malfoy was paying keen attention to his surroundings, even though he appeared to be concentrating on his companion. Now and then he lifted his eyes to survey the cavern, his right hand never far from his wand.

The Death Eaters continued their systematic search, always keeping close to one another. Harry found himself wondering idly whether it would have been a better idea to have taken refuge in the very centre of the cavern, where the floor was clear of stones. He shrugged. With the kind of luck he had had recently, it didn't seem to matter. It's not as if I went looking for trouble this time. It turned up at Hogwarts and came looking for me. He knew that, realistically, it didn't matter where they concealed themselves. With the entrance blocked, they were certain to be discovered. It was only a matter of time.

The end came suddenly. One of the Death Eaters, trying to investigate the wall behind them, stumbled over the satchel, which lay forgotten beside Benjy Fenwick. He regained his balance, dislodging the Invisibility Cloak as he did so, and gave a howl of triumph as Fenwick's leg came into view. Harry hurled his handful of dust and pebbles into the man's face and dived at the second Death Eater, bringing him down, before hurtling towards the cavern entrance.

'Crucio.' The murmured word brought Harry to his knees, twisting and jerking. It hurt, but he had experienced far worse at the end of his fourth year, when Voldemort had regained his physical form in the graveyard at Little Hangleton. He gritted his teeth, realising that the pain would have been more severe outside the cavern, and tried to focus on resisting the effects of the curse. You can do this, he told himself furiously, concentrate! A booted foot caught him in the small of his back and sent him sprawling forward.

Lucius Malfoy lowered his wand and stared at Harry, grey eyes narrowed in thought. Harry stared back defiantly, determined not to drop his gaze before Malfoy did.

The Death Eater behind him kicked him again. 'On your feet!' Harry recognised Macnair's voice.

'Make up your mind,' Harry retorted. He struggled to his feet, using his bound arms to push himself up from the cavern floor, and shook small stones from his hair. Malfoy watched him, smiling faintly.

'Potter,' he said at last. 'You've caused us a great deal of trouble.'

Harry shrugged. 'You could always just let me go.'

A broad smile broke out across Lucius Malfoy's face. 'I don't think so. Not after I've been to so much trouble to get you.'

'About time you got something right.' He saw Malfoy's face darken and plunged on recklessly. 'I mean it can't be much fun with you mucking things up all the time, can it? Voldemort must be really desperate if he's relying on you to do all his dirty work for him.'

'Silencio.' The silencing charm lowered Harry's voice to a whisper, but did not silence him entirely. He gave Malfoy what he hoped was a contemptuous sneer and continued speaking. 'Must be dead embarrassing for Draco, having a dad who's completely useless all the time. You'd think - '

Lucius Malfoy struck him across the face.

Harry licked blood from the corner of his mouth as the two of them stared at each other. Malfoy took a step closer.

'Potter. Be quiet.' Both voice and tone were so unmistakeably Snape's that Harry jumped in spite of himself. Malfoy's gaze flicked over Harry and behind him.

'Severus. I was wondering precisely what you were doing here.' Harry didn't miss the edge to precisely. He tensed, wondering what Fenwick would say, and whether Malfoy would be sufficiently distracted for Harry to escape.

'Following Potter. Obviously.' The clipped words were spoken with apparent unconcern, but Harry knew that Fenwick was feeling his way through the conversation. He must know Snape's a Death Eater. Was. He wondered if Fenwick knew which side Snape was really on. Do any of us?

Fenwick moved past Harry to stand by Malfoy and Macnair. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 'And that's why you were curled up with him under an Invisibility Cloak?' One of the Death Eaters sniggered. Malfoy's hand was curved lazily round his wand, but the tip pointed directly at Fenwick.

Fenwick scowled. 'You are hardly a fool, Lucius. Don't assume that I am one. I had no idea who else was following Potter. Having found him and captured him for you, I am hardly likely to want to hand him straight back to Dumbledore or that idiot Lupin, am I?'

'I see.' The wand dipped as Malfoy's hand relaxed. Harry tried not to look relieved. He thought he saw a flicker of anxiety in Fenwick's eyes, and realised the other man had no idea what to say next. He doesn't know how well Snape knows me. How much Snape hates me.

'I'm not my dad,' he said in a loud voice. He stared angrily at his former captor.

'Potter - ' The tone was a warning. The eyes flashed encouragement.

'That's why you hate me, isn't it? I remind you of him.'

Malfoy threw back his head and laughed. 'He seems to have you there.' He looked at Harry again. 'But you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak to a Pureblood wizard. I'll make sure of it. Pass me that knife, Severus.'

'What do you intend?'

'I think it's time he learned some manners, don't you?'

'Snape' demurred. 'I've waited a long time to hear Potter scream. I would rather not waste the opportunity.'

'Oh, don't worry. I won't spoil him.'

Fenwick nodded and made as if to pass the knife to Malfoy, then fumbled and dropped it. For the briefest instant, Malfoy's gaze left Harry, as did Macnair's. Fenwick grabbed Macnair, shoving him bodily into Malfoy and knocking both men off balance. As Macnair went down on top of Malfoy, Harry darted past them and into the passageway.

He heard a cry of rage from Malfoy, followed by a scream of pain. Fenwick. There was nothing he could do.

This time it was a Stunning Charm which brought him down, and he crashed headlong onto the rocky floor of the passage, the breath knocked from his body. He lay there winded and gasping, unable to move.

A robed and masked figure grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him back into the chamber, flinging him down in front of Lucius Malfoy. Here we go again, Harry thought. Get on with it

Malfoy kicked him once, hard, and Harry gasped with pain. Arrogant grey eyes looked over him and Malfoy's lips curled upwards in a smile. 'Well then, Potter. Let's not stand around waiting. You have an appointment to keep.' Abruptly, he turned away, and the Death Eater who had thrown him to the ground yanked him back onto his feet and pushed him forward.

The journey back to the surface seemed to last a lifetime. Occasionally Harry lost his footing as he stumbled along the uneven ground; unable to break the fall with his hands tied, he landed heavily, to the amusement of his captors. Thuds and jeers behind him told him that Fenwick was receiving similar treatment. His head throbbed and he felt dizzy and unwell. Once he retched, and tried to vomit, but nothing came up. There was a low laugh behind him, and a joke which Harry did not catch, and then they were off again, staggering through the darkness. It was almost a relief when they emerged into the outermost cave with its pathetic heap of dried bedding. One more shove and he was through the entrance, standing on the open hillside. Macnair held him in a brutal grip. In the valley below, red, orange and white lights twinkled in the village, sparkling like the contents of a sorcerer's jewelbox.

'Time to call off the search. I'll alert the others.' Malfoy pushed his way forward and stood silhouetted on the hillside. Raising his wand high, he cried, 'Morsmordre!' in a voice that seemed to reverberate from the clouds themselves. Green light curled from the tip of his wand and arched lazily upwards, exploding into a giant skull which lit up the hillside, blotting out the stars. The Dark Mark. Harry bit his lip.

'Stupefy!' The jet of red light and the hoarse cry were simultaneous and Malfoy dropped as if he had been clubbed. Harry wrenched himself free from Macnair's grasp and ran. From the sudden draught on his neck, he knew that Macnair had taken a swipe at him and had missed. He turned left, heading for Lupin and safety.

Jets of light sliced through the night air behind him. He heard Macnair mutter a spell he did not recognise, and swerved. A streak of purple flame shot past him.

'Harry. This way, Harry.' Lupin's voice, much closer now. Behind him, he heard a cry of 'Enervate!' from someone he did not recognise, and then Malfoy's voice again. A searing pain shot up his left leg and he collapsed in a heap on the grass. He was dimly aware of someone running past him, and then other figures joined the fray from all sides. The Death Eaters searching the hills were beginning to arrive. Harry rolled himself into a ball, clutching his injured leg and trying to control his ragged breathing. Among the voices casting spells below him, he fancied he heard Hestia Jones and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Looks like the cavalry's here.

A spell shot past him, a spell so powerful that Harry felt the air around him shimmer with its energy. A shower of golden sparks fell onto a group of Death Eaters, enveloping them in dancing flames. They flapped and beat uselessly at their robes as the flames took hold, forgetting completely about the battle raging around them. Something red and gold streaked across the darkness towards Harry, and he tensed, ready to try and evade the spell, before he recognised Fawkes. Fawkes. That means Dumbledore's here. Harry found he was laughing with nervous relief. There were cold tears on his face. That means it's over. It's over. The phoenix landed elegantly beside him. As the scarlet head bent over his wounded leg, Harry reached out and touched the phoenix clumsily with his bound hands. He was safe. He sat up and took a renewed interest in the battle.

Although it was still night, the darkness was beginning to fade, and the half-light that precedes dawn made it possible to follow what was going on. Light flared here and there as spells were cast, illuminating the casters' faces in fantastic colours. The fight was moving steadily up the hill and several of the Death Eaters were a good deal closer than they had been only moments ago. He wondered if Fawkes had given away his position. From his vantage point, Harry could make out Lupin, Hestia, Shacklebolt and a fourth Order member whom he thought might be Dung Fletcher, battling furiously. Lupin was duelling with a quiet intensity against Lucius Malfoy, so fast that his wand was a blur. Shacklebolt was making heavy weather of his battle with Macnair; his wand movements were slow and unfocused. His arm must still be hurting him, Harry realised. A moment later a curse hit Shacklebolt in the chest and he fell; Macnair laughed in triumph and was toppled in turn by a well-placed Stupefy from Hestia Jones, who immediately dropped into a crouch behind the fallen Death Eater, using his body as partial cover to fling curses in all directions. Harry grinned. Textbook stuff. Dung was fighting two Death Eaters at once; a third, unnoticed, had raised its wand to take a clear shot at him, but a thin strand of rope appeared from nowhere and wrenched the wand away. Disarmed and helpless, the Death Eater dived for cover. Harry saw Dumbledore step into the fray.

Unlike the others, he did not seem to bother with protective spells. He raised his wand slowly and gave an almost careless flick; the Death Eater he was aiming at jerked backwards and toppled, rolling away down the hillside. Before his first target had hit the ground, Dumbledore had turned away and was taking aim at a second. A stream of green sparks shot towards him from Malfoy's wand; Dumbledore blocked the curse with the tiniest of gestures and the sparks dissipated harmlessly an inch in front of his face. Harry saw his expression for an instant in the emerald light and flinched. In the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore had been pale and furious; the deadly calm on his face now was the most terrifying thing Harry had ever seen. He watched as Dumbledore said something to Malfoy, and Malfoy brought his wand up in return. Before he could cast a spell, it was torn from his hand. Ropes surged from the end of Dumbledore's wand, wrapping themselves ever more tightly around the struggling Malfoy. Harry pressed his hands against his mouth to stop himself laughing out loud.

And then a shape rose up out of the darkness directly in front of him. The Invisibility Cloak slipped to the ground as the Death Eater climbed to his feet and stood towering over Harry. He leaned forward, so close that his stale breath floated across Harry's cheek. Eyes gleamed behind the mask. Harry did not need to see his face to know that the man was smiling. Far below him, as if in a dream, he saw Lupin glance in his direction, freeze, and then begin to run. Too late. Harry raised his bound hands to protect his face, knowing he was helpless.

The wand came up. Harry closed his eyes.

'Avada - '

There was a cracking sound as the ring on Harry's finger split asunder, and then a thud, followed by furious snarling. The Death Eater screamed. Harry opened his eyes to see the man spread-eagled on the grass, an enormous silver dog on top of him tearing at him with its teeth. The ripping and growling continued for some seconds, the screams growing weaker and weaker until at last there was a single bubbling gasp from the Death Eater and then no sound at all. There was a final growl of satisfaction from the dog and then it turned and trotted up to Harry, thrusting a bloodied muzzle into his hands and whimpering softly.

'Sirius?' Grey eyes stared into his, and the dog thumped its tail on the ground. Then it backed away and turned round. And stopped dead.

Lupin was hurrying up the hill.

For a moment it seemed to Harry as if the world had stopped spinning. The man and the dog stood frozen, staring at one another. Then the great silver dog gave a heart-rending howl, leapt into the air and vanished.

Lupin reached out to Harry without speaking and helped him up, slicing his bonds with a single downward stroke of his wand. Harry picked up the Invisibility Cloak and the two halves of the ring, and they walked back down the hill together, Harry trying to look anywhere, everywhere except at Lupin, so he could go on pretending he hadn't seen the look in Lupin's eyes.

--

When they rejoined the others, it was all over. The Death Eaters stood in a small group, roped together and watched by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was leaning heavily on Hestia Jones. Macnair lay a short distance away, still unconscious. Dumbledore was speaking to Dung Fletcher, who was mopping blood from his brow with the dirtiest handkerchief Harry had ever seen.

Dumbledore turned away from Dung as they approached and came over to meet them. He ran his eyes assessingly over Harry, the relief evident on his face, then looked up at Lupin.

'It looked like his Patronus.' Lupin answered the unspoken question.

Dumbledore nodded. He said nothing.

'He must have bound it into the ring,' Lupin continued. He shook his head and a small, sad smile crossed his face. 'I was just thinking - I never saw him cast it after we left Hogwarts.' His voice broke and he passed a hand over his forehead before speaking again. 'His Boggart was always a Dementor, after he came back. I thought it was because of Azkaban. I never realised - ' He fell silent. Harry stared down at his bloodstained hands.

'How very touching.' Harry jerked his head up to stare at Malfoy. Lupin took a step forward, hand clenched around his wand, ignoring the restraining hand that Dumbledore laid upon his arm.

'Come closer, Lupin. Why don't you?' Malfoy smiled. The half-lidded eyes were cold and assessing.

Lupin shook his head. 'You're not worth it.'

The grey eyes snapped open. Malfoy stared at Lupin for a long moment before he said softly, 'You're a lucky man, Lupin. One day I'm going to give you what you really want.'

Lupin laughed harshly. 'What's that, Malfoy? My hands around your throat?'

Malfoy smiled again. Raising his hand, he pointed a finger at Lupin. 'Avada Kedavra.'

'That's enough, Lucius. Silencio.' Dumbledore turned to the others. 'I have always been told,' he observed cheerfully, 'that if you have nothing pleasant to say, then it is best to say nothing at all. Now then. The warders at Azkaban will be glad to see Lucius and Walden again and we must get Poppy to look at that leg of yours, Harry... Harry?'

'Over here!' Harry called urgently. He knelt at the entrance to the fairy cave, his back to the others. He heard the sound of hurrying feet and then Lupin was beside him.

'What is it, Harry? Oh, Merlin - Benjy.' Lupin looked round, his face grey. 'Albus!'

'No,' Harry protested, but it was too late. Dumbledore was kneeling beside him, cradling Fenwick's shattered body in his arms. The Metamorphagus opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his old friend and mentor.

'Albus.' Blood spilled from the corners of his mouth. Harry made a frantic movement towards him, but Lupin pulled him back, shaking his head gently.

'I'm here.' Dumbledore's voice was very low.

Fenwick smiled. 'Tell me,' he whispered, 'why didn't you come back? Why didn't you come back for me?' His features were dissolving now, shifting in and out as the pain took hold. Harry caught glimpses of Lupin, Snape, Moody and others he did not know, one after the other, each bleeding into the next and all of them distorted and out of focus as he viewed them through the thick glass of the years.

'They told us you were dead.' Dumbledore stroked the dying man's hair as he held him. Harry watched, mesmerised by the anger, pain and love in Dumbledore's eyes.

Fenwick shook his head. 'You left me.'

'No,' Dumbledore murmured, but it was too late. Fenwick's head tipped back and he sighed once, his features relaxing back into those of the man Harry had known for such a short time. Dumbledore closed his eyes for a second and then laid the body gently down on the grass, its blue eyes staring sightlessly up into an endless sky.

Epilogue: Whatever It Takes

'They're here.' Lupin's voice broke the stillness of the empty classroom. 'Coming up the road now.'

'I'll be along in a minute.' Harry didn't turn round. I wonder how many of them can see Thestrals now, he thought absently. He gazed out of the window for a moment more, looking out across the lawns and the Quidditch pitch beyond, running his finger along the rough sandstone of the Gothic arch. Neville. Hermione. Luna. Ginny. Ron.

He took one last look out of the window, at the sky impossibly blue above him, unmarked by clouds. Across the blue a white line blazed; the path of a solitary jet en route for the States. Harry grinned. He could have seen the plane as it passed, had he been looking, but could not have been seen in return. There had been a certain comfort in invisibility once. No longer.

'Whatever it takes.' He spoke aloud without realising it, and turned his gaze downwards to the two bright scraps of paper on the old wooden desk. The two photographs smiled up at him. He ran a gentle thumb across the first one, smiling slightly as the people in it squeaked in indignation and moved out of the way. His parents waved at him. Sirius stood behind them, winking at Harry; he had one arm round Lily's waist while the other made an obscene gesture at James. Their happiness was infectious and Harry found himself grinning back. He looked at the others in the photograph, wizards and witches who had given their lives without regret in the fight against Voldemort, and at others still who had not died, but had spent the better part of their lives fighting ceaselessly for what they believed was right.

He looked at the second photograph. Molly had taken it during the summer and Hermione had sent him a copy. The new Order of the Phoenix grinned at him. Lupin and Moody, older and more careworn. Diggle and Doge. Emmeline Vance, standing beside Hestia and smiling faintly as if she had no idea what she was doing with such an undignified crowd. Dung Fletcher. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Tonks. Ron and Hermione were in the front row. Ron's eyes were fixed on Hermione. Hermione stared straight ahead, her arms wrapped around Crookshanks, pretending not to notice. The tiniest of smiles flickered on her lips.

'Whatever it takes,' Harry said again, more loudly this time. He had no illusions that they would all survive the second war. The forces ranged against them were too deadly for that. But his friends had made their choices and he would respect them. However big the responsibility, it was also a gift, and one he could not refuse.

He squared his shoulders self-consciously and then relaxed, grinning at his own pretension. He shook his head as if to clear it of dust, swept the photographs into his pocket and went to meet his classmates for dinner.