Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 24: The Will to Survive

It was like something out of a dream, thought Harry, as he cautiously drew near the four kneeling beings. At first, Harry felt the temptation to pinch himself... to verify the fact that this was indeed real life.

He stopped next to Lucius Malfoy, who glowered at Harry with contempt. Within Harry's head, he could hear the voice of Malfoy's father... as Harry speculated what the man was likely to be thinking.

How could it come to this? How could I, one of the most powerful and wealthiest wizards in the world... be at the mercy of a fifteen-year-old boy.

Harry passed over Malfoy, now standing before Wormtail. The large man who had betrayed his father was sweating profusely, emitting a sort of sickening whine that made Harry just want to kick him. Following the same pattern, his voice entered Harry's head.

Not again... why is my lord so powerful, yet so helpless. Not again...

With a labored gait, Harry stood over Draco. Unlike his father who bore a murderous glare, and Wormtail who was only not throwing himself at Harry's feet for mercy because of the Dark Lord's presence, Draco looked down at the ground. Harry could not speculate what Draco was thinking, and did not want to.

And, Harry did not need any speculation as to what Voldemort was saying, for Voldemort spoke quite loudly and coldly.

"So, it appears that an age old truth has once again proven itself; it is better to be lucky than good."

Harry stared at Voldemort... who still bore with him a fierce pride in his white, skeletal form. His deep red eyes swam with untold power and his skinny, frail looking frame was still taut without defeat.

Voldemort leered devilishly at Harry as he leveled the wand at Voldemort's forehead.

"Unlike your parents, Potter... I will die with dignity and not squeal out your name, like pigs lined up for the slaughter."

A tear rolled down Harry's cheek, as his wand hand shook with rage and angst.

"The time for glorifying yourself... is at an end, Voldemort," said Harry slowly, with a shaking voice.

Voldemort smirked evilly, his red eyes narrowed and his snake-like face pointed in defiance. "Oh no, Potter... go ahead. Hit me with the Avada Kedavra curse. It won't be enough... I never run out of tricks. You will see me again; perhaps not for a year, perhaps not for ten years... perhaps not for fifty... but I always return."

Harry shook his head. "Not this time..."

It was not Voldemort, nor any of his followers that spoke next, but it was Ron, who screamed out into the night from behind Harry.

"Guess again," laughed Voldemort. "I am not going anywhere."

Harry whirled around as Ron's scream became a strangled cry for help. In the dark night, it appeared Ron had gained over two hundred pounds, swelling up to Dudley's size. Yet, when he staggered toward Harry, the sinister truth of the matter became clear.

A large, twenty-foot serpent was coiled around him, constricting... and squeezing.

"Give me your wand, Potter," said Voldemort's voice from behind him. "Or Nagini will grind your little friends bones into powder."

"Ron..." Harry mouthed as Ron, despite the massive weight of the snake, continued to stagger toward him. His blue eyes were widened in terror as he rasped and groaned. Nagini hissed loudly, and Harry could visibly see every part of the serpent tense up... and constrict his best friend.

"NO!" shouted Harry, walking over to Voldemort and driving a fist into his face. "You let Ron go... or... I will do it! I'll kill you, here and now!"

Voldemort's head spun to the right under the impact of Harry's fist, but if Harry had caused him any pain, it was well hidden. The Dark Lord turned his eyes back to Harry, laughing evilly.

"Nagini, on the count of three, snap his spine..." said Voldemort.

Ron let out a muffled gasp and a wheeze, as at last, his strength failed him. He topped over to the ground, giving into the snake.

Not, however, before rasping out three words.

"Harry... kill... him..."

"One..." murmured Voldemort, waving his finger in the air.

Harry held his wand in a shaky hand. "You'll... you'll kill him anyway... you showed me that with Herm..."

"Two..." simpered Voldemort, his face lined with amusement.

Tears were now flowing down Harry's cheeks. "Have you no honor!" cried out Harry in frustration.

"Three..." hissed Voldemort. "Kill him, Nagini."

Ron let out an agonized wail, as the serpent tightened his coil around Harry's best friend, causing his cheeks to puff up and his eyes to bulge wide. It was clear that Voldemort was not bluffing. The snake continued to tighten the coil, and a sickening crack was heard... no doubt a few ribs... causing Harry to loose the last of his resolve.

Harry screamed, for despite no magical bond between him and Ron... he felt like it was him about to die.

"STOP PLEASE!" begged Harry, waving his hands frantically, unable to bare the thought of loosing his best friend. "Get up, leave...fly away... Apparate out... take your followers with you... I don't care. Don't kill him!"

Voldemort rose to his feet, glaring down at Harry from his grand height. There was a lengthy pause between the Dark Lord and The Boy Who Lived. After a moment, Ron's cries faded with volume into a low moan, as Voldemort waved his hands in Nagini's direction. The snake had loosened up his hold on Ron.

"I find your terms... acceptable, Harry Potter."

Wormtail and Lucius both stood up as well, silent in their Master's presence. Draco eventually stood as well, unable to look at Harry.

"Grab hold of Wormtail's hand," Voldemort instructed. "It is a Port Key back to the... base of operations, when I desire it to be."

Lucius and Wormtail both complied as Lucius grabbed hold of the silvery metallic hand. Wormtail grabbed his artificial hand with his real one, as Voldemort clasped a free spot as well.

And then, all three looked expectantly to Draco.

"Come. Now," demanded Voldemort.

Draco turned away, not saying a word.

"Draco..." said his father with concern. "Grab on... we a leaving now."

Draco walked away toward the side of the summit, looking down. At first, Harry thought that Draco was considering jumping for reasons of guilt, however, he turned back, staring at his father.

"I'm done with this. Smoke you, and your pathetic schemes." Draco scowled, a fierce pride shining through with his words.

Voldemort sneered at Draco. "You miserable little traitor..."

Draco glared hard at the Dark Lord. "Never once... did I... Draco Malfoy... swear allegiance to you... now, you better leave before Potter changes his mind, since, after all, you are at his mercy once again."

At first, Harry thought Voldemort might very well abandon Wormtail's arm in favor of rushing Draco, however, he held his rage in check.

"Son, get over here now!" said Lucius angrily, but with a pleading twinge. "You have no place to go... you are wanted by the Ministry, you are expelled from Hogwarts... if you turn your back on Our Lord now... you will wind up in Azkaban for certain."

Draco looked to Harry, whose face remained stony with indecision. He looked to the tangled form of Ron... and then, to the stars above.

"I've been in Azkaban all my life," said Draco. "Get out of here, Father... seek to please that monstrosity of a Dark Lord, and see if your dreams come true."

It happened so quickly...

Voldemort scowled so deeply, that Harry thought Draco might turn to stone. "You and Potter, young Malfoy... you and Potter will never spend a minute in Azkaban... I will insure you both die miserable and painful deaths."

Voldemort then turned to Harry, completely livid from Draco's betrayal. "And let the death of another be on your conscience, Potter. Only this time Potter... you will know true loss."

Harry's face drained completely white.

"Nagini..." said Voldemort, his voice drawling over the raging, dark wind. "Kill the spare..."

"Draco!" shouted Lucius desperately. "Draco, please grab on!"

Harry suddenly leapt back to awareness as both Draco and him leveled their wands at Voldemort at the same time.

Ron screamed in agony, and was abruptly silenced as a snap cracked through the air like the whip of death.

And then... Ron was very silent.

"Stupefy!" cried out both boys...

... however, they only hit air as the metallic arm of Wormtail swallowed up the three men... and dropped to the ground, for the body that supported it was gone, along with the Dark Lord and Lucius.

"Ron!" cried Harry as a rushed over to where Nagini had been. The mysterious serpent, which had appeared out of thin air, had returned to it... leaving only a very battered looking body behind.

Harry dove next to Ron, grabbing him.

"Harry..." muttered Ron weakly, his eyes fluttering and focusing on Harry. His body was limp... so limp... and weightless, as if all the tension and fight that Harry knew to be a part of Ron was gone. He blinked wearily at Harry with fading blue eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"Shut up, shut up," scowled Harry. He snapped his head up... looking for help... looking for anything to help him, but spied only one person.

"Malfoy, please! Help!" cried Harry, turning back to Ron, who's life was fading fast.

Draco looked at Harry and turned his back, walking away. "Nagini crushed him, Potter..." he replied coldly, "He's dying."

With a slow trudge, he approached the entrance of Narhassa's Lair, leaving Ron and Harry to speak for what Draco clearly thought to be the last time.

"I'm sorry..." continued Ron, as a drop of blood formed at the corner of his mouth. "You are... my friend."

"Stop talking, Ron," sneered Harry forcefully, grabbing Ron's head and cradling it on his lap. "You aren't going to die! You can't die! I won't let you..."

Ron closed his dim blue eyes and his head lulled back. Harry could see his best friend slipping away from him. Loosing all semblance of control, Harry buried his head into Ron's forehead, his scar pressing down hard against Ron's skin. Harry could feel his scar throb with pain as he touched Ron's quickly cooling skin. It was as if the marking upon his forehead was absorbing Ron's essence itself, leaving only a cold shell behind.

"Tell Hermione... that... I..." trailed off Ron, but he never got to finish the sentence before he fell silent... and motionless.

This cannot be happening... it is insane...it makes no sense... Ron did nothing to anyone...

"Wake up, Harry," he whispered to himself. "Wake up... this is a nightmare..."

All the tricks in the world could not dispel this horrible dystopia.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Sean and Hermione appeared over the summit of Ben Nevis once again, having recovered from their fall and their own shock.

The scene before them was one of pure trauma. Harry cried bitterly over the body of someone who had fallen; Voldemort and his gang where nowhere in sight... and there was one other boy, with his hand against the Griffin statue, staring down at his shoes.

Sean landed the broom speedily, and both rushed to Harry's side.

"Oh God!" screamed Hermione as they saw the light of the moon reflecting off ginger hair, which lay matted upon a rock. "This is a trick; Voldemort is tricking us into thinking its him!"

Hermione nearly tackled Harry as she rushed to Ron's side in her attempt to prove that the body on the ground was not Ron... but some horrible ploy, used to demoralize them. But, after a single second or two of inspection, Hermione broke down into anguished sobs once again, burying her face into Ron's deadened shoulder.

Sean wiped the tears from his own eyes as the scene tugged at his own emotions. He could not draw any closer, however. Instead, he drew away and approached Malfoy, who glared down the stairwell, descending into the lair of Narhassa with an emotionless, intense expression.

"Why... are you so depressed?" asked Sean, sniffling and again wiping the tears out of his eyes. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Draco looked over his shoulder at Sean, his intense gray eyes piercing him deeply.

"Just because I'm the a Slytherin, the son of a coward and good looking doesn't mean I get my jollies off seeing corpses," Draco stared at Sean with no hint of sarcasm in his eyes. "Ron Weasley was my bitter enemy... so don't expect me to shed any tears."

Sean stared up at Draco. "It was your betrayal that brought them all up here without a weapon!"

"Oh yeah right," snorted Draco. "Like the sword was going to stop Voldemort from having his twenty-foot long python crushed his spine."

The smaller boy stared at Draco. "I guess we will never know, huh?"

Draco did not reply. "Sod off... if Redetyor wakes up Narhassa, many more will join Weasley. Go get what's left of the Dream Team and tell them we still have a job to do."

"WE?" snapped Sean. "Why the hell would we trust YOU?"

Draco calmly reached into the back of his robe and withdrew a small backpack from beneath the folds. He unbuckled it quickly and withdrew from it... the Sorting Hat.

"Give it here!" shouted Sean, his hands flaring again with electric energy.

Draco unfolded the extremely large hat, and, to Sean's curiosity, reached within. To Sean's further amazement, Draco drew out a long, silvery blade. Sean's jaw dropped as he tried to speak.

"Go get Potter and Granger," said Draco, testing the balance of the blade. "Tell them we keep moving or Weasley died for nothing."

Sean swallowed a lump in his throat and turned from Draco, running back.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ron...

Even before Hermione, there was Ron. Ever since the first train ride to Harry's new home, Harry and Ron had been inseparable. They laughed at the same time, they snorted at the same time... he was the brother Harry never had.

Ron...

The wide-eyed boy who had given Harry confidence in times where there was none to be had... inspirations when there was nothing but bleakness... and friendship when it was in short supply.

Ron...

The Boy Who Knew Sacrifice; who had allowed himself to nearly die their first year to get Harry through to the Sorcerer's Stone in his chess game... who had stood up to Sirius Black with a broken leg... and now, who had stood at his side while he faced the Dark Lord, no longer afraid.

First, there was James Potter... than Lily Potter... than Cedric Diggory... all names that brought shame to Harry's mind. However, Harry knew now, and for the years to come, the name Ron Weasley would be burned in his soul forever. He would not forget this day, as long as he lived...

... and he would have his revenge.

Harry knew Sean had approached him from behind; he knew Hermione was still crying on his shoulder... and he knew Ron was dead, lying in front of him, with a peaceful look upon his pale face. His freckles seemed to have melted back into his skin, graying over with death.

Harry calmly lifted his head from Ron's, staring down at his best friend. He put his grabbed the red-haired boy's still warm wrist, and grabbed his hand, as they had done some many times before; just a shake, nothing more.

What am I going to do now? thought Harry, paralyzed with confusion.

And then, the answer seemed to enter his head... in a distant, but soft voice.

Take my wand, Harry, said a voice inside his ear... the voice of a dead best friend.

Harry glanced over to the side, and saw Ron's wand, lying upon the ground, neglected and abandoned. As he released Ron's hand, he methodically scooped up his best friend's wand.

Whoa... can you actual...

Harry blinked, shaking his head.

"We are going to do this together, Ron," he said softly, looking at the wand, and then back down to his friend.

Without another word, Harry rose and nearly bumped into Sean, who was about to clear his throat and speak. The raven-haired boy looked down at Sean, with determination written in his eyes.

"Comfort Hermione..." he said lowly, his voice a little more than a growl of angst and sorrow.

Sean looked at Harry. "I'm coming with you, Harry. I'm not going to let you face what's down there alone."

Harry glared at Sean coldly.

"Where I am going, and what I am going to do... I do not want you to see, hear, or be a part of."

Sean glared at Harry. "If you think killing every Narhassa student, and slaying Redetyor and Jessica will bring back Ron... you are wrong!"

Harry grabbed Sean by his shoulders and practically lifted the shorter boy into the air. "Ron's death will be justified... and it will be justified with blood!"

"Harry," said Sean, grabbing Harry's shoulders as well, though he could not hold with nearly the same strength. "There is nothing I can say to console you... but I know my friend, Harry Potter, is still in control. I can see it in your eyes. If you kill these students in cold blood, you will never forgive yourself."

Harry's eyes remained stony. "Look, Sean... I want you to take Hermione... and leave. She needs time to mourn, and I want you there to stop her from doing anything stupid. I have no time to mourn," snapped Harry, looking bitter. "I'm the Boy Who Fucking Lived... and I have to save the fucking day."

"Harry..." stammered Sean, shaking his head. "I don't want to loose another friend tonight..."

Harry released Sean's shoulders and pushed past him, continuing the rest of the way to Malfoy. "You won't. Now, see to Hermione and get out of here."

"Take care of yourself, then..." said Sean shortly.

It felt bad to know that he had not a single shred of good will left in his bones; he could not even reply to Sean.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"You have guts, Potter," said Draco, holding the sword of Gryffindor over his shoulder. Harry, with his face set into a scowl, his hair in complete dishevel, and his cheeks still drained and lurid in the pale moon light reminded Draco of a man risen from the grave, with only one thought on his mind... destruction.

"You..." growled Potter low, tears still flowing down his face. "You... have so much to pay for."

Draco lowered his eyes, his confidence failing him. "I'm ready to start."

Harry looked at the sword of Gryffindor, the flat of the silvery, polished blade resting on Draco's shoulder. He did not question it and nor did he ask for it.

"Hermione and Sean are leaving," said Harry, his face paving over with indifference. "I do not want them to see what I've become... but I trust you won't mind."

Draco cackled with amusement and swung the sword of Gryffindor out, testing its balance. "I don't spook easily, Potter. Living under the same roof as Father Lucius, Mother Narcissa, and Uncle Voldemort for the past week has officially made me worth my weight in cat scans... when we get off this bloody rock, I'm probably going to commit myself to St. Mungo's."

Harry showed no sign of even hearing Malfoy's possible joke, instead, he just stared at Draco with an unreadable, indifferent mask.

Malfoy matched Harry's stare with his own, fierce, pointed countenance. "I have chosen my side, Potter. I am against Voldemort... and I am against Redetyor. I think this means we are on the same side."

Harry's eyes trailed slowly from Draco's face to the sword, slung casually over his shoulder.

"I see you've found some bravery beneath your worthless hide, or else you would not be wielding that sword."

Malfoy extended the sword of Gryffindor to Harry. "Want it?"

Harry shook his head. "No... it will not let me wield it right now. You holding the sword now is proof of what I suspected all along."

Draco stared at Harry expectantly.

"It doesn't require a blood relation to Gryffindor to use his sword ..." said Harry smoothly, his emotions staying clear of his voice, "... just those who would do as he would in spirit. Anyone who is acting selflessly against evil can wield his sword."

"Then, wield it," said Draco. "I'm sure you have the memo somewhere: A Malfoy keeps a short supply of selflessness."

Harry shook his head, declining his offer.

"I... know what I'm fighting for now... and it isn't selfless. It is for revenge," said Harry, his voice lined with misery and defeat.

"Redetyor, Jessica... the Students of Narhassa... and then Voldemort... they will pay... they will all pay for tonight. They will scream Ron's name as I strike down each of them! I will send them all to hell tonight... and they can tell the devil that Ron sent them..." Harry's eyes practically flared with emerald fire as he stared at Draco. "... it's time to burn them... BURN them all."

Harry lowered his head, clenching his fists with anger as Malfoy arched his silvery brow in a display of astonishment.

"Well said, Dark Lord Potter," drawled Draco, in a mocking tone. "I'll hold the women while you ravage them."

Harry glared for a moment at Draco, but Malfoy's sarcastic humor was very much lost on the more than slightly traumatized boy.

Without a word in his own defense, he extended his hand to Draco. "You saved my life from the stream... You tried to save Hermione... you chose certain death to walk away from Voldemort... I will trust you, again, for these reasons."

Draco nodded, his face a mask of pallid indifference. "I'm so glad that's settled. Now, onward my messy-haired companion... we have virgins to rape, boys to slaughter, ex-girlfriends to bludgeon to death with rocks, scum to purge and fallen angels to smack up."

Despite Malfoy's obvious sarcasm, Harry pointed two wands at Draco.

"Don't tempt me... I'm a bit unstable right now, in case you haven't noticed."

With a snort, Draco began to descend down the stairs. "Thanks for telling me that little secret of yours. Feels good to be in the inner circle of trust."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Lumos," muttered Harry as they began their descent down the spiraling staircase of Narhassa's Lair, lighting their way. In his other hand, he clutched Ron's wand... perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but it seemed to be alive with its own unique power.

The sound of a constant rumbling filled Harry's ears, emanating from below. A heavy, hot wind was gusting from beneath them, causing beads of sweat to appear upon Harry's brow. The air smelled awful, a mixture of rotten eggs and thick must. Harry's skin bubbled with a rage that needed to be expressed as he descended down through the thick blackness.

The hum of energy continued to emit through Harry's head as the Slytherin and the Gryffindor continued their descent into the darkness. The ancient stone walls were raw and uncut, with sharp, jagged rocks protruding from the tunnel. It was almost as if this spiraling descent was crafted using a giant corkscrew.

A low chant began to fill Harry's ears though the sight down the stairs was extremely limited.

"Listen..." said Malfoy crisply. "Do you hear that?"

Harry cocked his head.

Ximitxith... Xoxmomox... Ximixomx... Ximzoaxix

The words made no sense in Harry's mind, but they were repeated over and over again, in oscillating voices.

"Yeah," said Harry. "What does it mean?"

Malfoy bit his lip slightly. "I don't know... it sounds like an ancient Celtic Mantra of some kind."

"Let's keep going," said Harry, his face stony with determination.

It felt as through they were descending the unworked, natural stone steps for nearly a half-hour, before green light began to appear, emanating from the darkness below.

"Nox," said Harry quietly, not wishing for his light to give them away. While Harry's wand went out, the green glow from below gave the two boys enough light to see from.

"It's your call, Potter," whispered Draco as he prowled down the stairs, his sword upon his shoulder. "Are we aiming to kill, or wound?"

When Harry heard the question put that way, Harry wanted to demand death. They all deserved it. If it wasn't for Redetyor, none of this would have happened. Ron and him would probably be playing Exploding Snap in the water Common Room... while Hermione kindly lectured them that "Exploding Snap" will not prepare them properly for their OWLs

But because of Narhassa... Ron was dead... and now, there would be hell to pay.

Just defend yourself, Harry...Harry could hear Ron's voice within his head, telling him what Ron would say had he been right next to him.

"Just defend yourself," said Harry at last, holding out both wands from his body.

Can you actually hea... Ron's voice trailed off.

Draco nodded and finally, the stairwell ended abruptly into a long corridor. The hum had only increased in volume, as did the chanting, which now rang out loudly in Harry's ears.

Draco took point, twirling the broadsword of Gryffindor with a significant degree of talent as Harry followed him, both wands tracing for a potential threat. A heavy rush of hot wind was whipping from ahead of them, blowing both boys' hair about wildly.

"Come on, we may already be too late!" shouted Draco, who began running against the fast blowing wind stream.

Harry matched his speed, sprinting from behind.

The corridor continued, though the walls around them opened up into a vast chamber, lit by a surrealistic green glow. The corridor itself remained intact, suspending over a very long fall into infinite blackness, like some sort of bridge. There was one other bridge in this huge room, which intersected perpendicularly with the bridge Harry and Draco began to cross, forming a T-junction.

Two Narhassa students were rushing across the second bridge, aiming to intersect with Harry and Draco. Upon seeing the two wizards, both Narhassa students slowed to a stop.

"It's Potter!" exclaimed one, a female with a British accent, no older than fourteen. "And Malfoy!"

"Blast em! We'll show em' the powah of Nahhahsah," exclaimed the second, probably a seventeen year old male with a distinctive New York accent.

Both boys raised their hands, discharging two lightning bolts at Harry and Draco. Harry fell to one knee.

"Stupefy!" he exclaimed.

Effecto! Sounded Ron's voice, from a week ago, when they fought Malfoy. The Force Charm was always one of Ron's favorites.

Three things happened all at once...

First, Draco outstretched the blade of Gryffindor, intercepting both lightning bolts. Instead of feeling the electricity course through his body, the blade began to sizzle and come alive with energy and the lightning ran up and down the shaft of the blade, sparkling with white light.

Secondly, as Harry took aim with his own wand and cast the Stunning Charm, Ron's wand seemed to instinctively follow, and suddenly, a ripple of distortion blasted unwarrantedly from the tip.

And thirdly, the purple beam of the stunning charm mixed with the spell coming out of Ron's wand, and struck the American Narhassa boy, propelling him off the bridge into the darkness below. He made no sound, for he was unconscious from Harry's Stunning Charm... but also pushed off the bridge by the Force Charm that came out of Ron's wand.

The British Narhassa student shrieked and began to run back the way she came... but Draco was too fast for her. Draco leveled his sword, as if he knew clearly what he was doing. The electricity that circulated up and down the shaft leapt off the blade, in the form of a giant lightning bolt, which struck the girl in her back, sending head over heals, screaming into the dark abyss below.

It had all happened so fast. Harry blinked twice, only now processing the fact that he had just sent a human being to the grave. Harry had always wondered what it would be like to take a human life... he always envisioned it would happen at some point, though he expected that nothing would be able to prepare him for it.

Yet now, standing upon the bridge, watching the swirling darkness... no more than fifteen seconds after Harry had sent someone freefalling it, did he known what it was like to be a killer.

Justified. Horribly justified... Harry felt no shame, in fact, he felt exhilarated.

Perhaps I am going insane...reasoned Harry.

A second, younger female had run out onto the perpendicular bridge, as a result of the shrieking... and upon seeing Harry and Draco, shrieked, and ran back the way she came before Harry could train his wands to her.

"Come on!" urged Draco, as Harry followed. If Draco had any conflictions in taking the life of a girl around his age, he did not show it. "So much for the surprise attack."

Harry shook his head, forcibly pulling himself from his own reverie. One emotion stayed fixed in his mind as he sped off after Draco, and while Harry wasn't sure what to call it, he knew it was not remorse.

I'm glad I killed him... I'm glad...

* * * * * * * * * * *

"The Sorolith is prepared," said a Narhassa third year boy with a bright smile, though he looked a bit drained. He was the youngest Chaser upon the Narhassa Quiddich team.

Upon arriving in the room with two bridges, half of the Narhassa students had continued straight, led by Redetyor to conduct the final preparations of the Sorolith by draining a bit more of their soul energy and activating the s. The other half, led by Carle, were beginning their attacks upon Narhassa, forcing Her to take form, and weakening her a bit. When the Sorolith was properly prepared, their assault upon Narhassa would become unified, and, with luck, render her unconscious. To use the Sorolith in their fight, however, they would have to unlock Narhassa first. The barrier around Narhassa, erected by Slytherin, made sure that the Sorolith could never affect Narhassa. Thus, Carle and the other half of the Narhassians were busy shooting lightning bolts at the fallen angel now, sapping her energy.

It was then Seth's plan to extract all of Narhassa's power into the Sorolith, and drink deeply from it... once the being was dominated.

And so far, everything was going perfect to plan.

Seth looked to the younger boy with a smirk, as the he handed Seth the Sorolith. "Good, Malacardi... good..."

While still looking very pale, Carle had been able to heal his mangled arm with some regenerative spells she learned in Durmstrang when she was a student there.

"I just hope Carle has been able to weaken her a bit during the preparations. If not, when I release the second lock, she'll probably slay us all where we stand," laughed Seth, tossing the small orb into the air, and catching it again.

The other boys and girls didn't seem to this sentiment all that funny.

"Let's go," said Seth as he led his group out of the preparation room.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Draco and Harry sprinted down the narrow bridge and turned ninety-degrees, giving chase to the girl who had spotted them. The humming continued to grate upon Harry's nerves, as did the hollow chanting within his ears that would not subside.

Ximitxith... Xoxmomox... Ximixomx... Ximzoaxix

Eventually, they made it out of the large, bottomless room and continued down a winding corridor, the sound of humming and chanting becoming more distant in their ears. Harry could hear the footfalls ahead of them as the younger girl ran for help, though the bending turns did not ever permit them sight of her.

Harry became aware of a mist that was gathering at his feet as they ran, swirling it around their legs. The green fog obscured the ground below and the hot air Harry had felt bellowing in his face only seemed to intensify.

We must be getting close...

And, without warning, the winding corridor suddenly opened up into a huge hall, well over two hundred yards by two hundred yards. The hall itself with illuminated by a ghostly green light that did not seem to stem from any single source. Very high above them was a domed ceiling, built with alien technology that could apparently support an entire mountain atop of it. It was clear to Harry now why the heat had been so intense, for half of the hall seemed to be carved up with about seven deep canals, at the bottom of which a stream of lava flowed beneath. What the purpose of these cuts through the chamber were, Harry could only guess.

White flashes of light crackled and ripped across the humming dome as Draco and Harry stared across the chamber, to where about fifteen Narhassa students were discharging currents of lightning. Nearly all of the students were on their knees, for a reason Harry could not figure out.

"Potter and Malfoy are here!" shouted the girl they had been chasing; she was nearly half way across the hall, having run in between two lava channels.

Despite being so far away, Harry could tell who the first person was to react to these words, for the green, sickly glow of the room stained her shoulder-length blond hair a distorting color of light green.

Malfoy rushed continued rushing forward, running upon a strip of ground no more than thirty feet wide... in between two lava channels. The heat within the room was very intense, causing Harry to wipe his brow yet again as he followed Malfoy.

Most of the Narhassa students seemed too weak to rise, but about four were able to muster strength for the task, launching half-hearted lightning bolts at Draco. It seemed that the sword of Gryffindor was considered Narhassa's weakness for a very good reason, as Draco... in a single swing of his blade, absorbed all the magic sent his way... and sent it screaming back upon the shooters, sending the quartet to the ground, shuttering with electric energy.

Now, seeing the girl he loved... bathed in the green light like the Slytherin she could have been, Harry was forced into indecision. Part of him wanted to stop her, yet not harm a single hair on her head.

The other part of him commanded her blood to fulfill his need for justice.

If you can hear me, Harry... stop... you are loosing who you are...

And once again, Ron's voice entered Harry's head, sounding from his right ear. Yet, before his imagination could run away with Ron's voice, he had decided what to do. She would pay for her betrayal... she would pay with her life.

Carle scowled and drew her wand as Harry and Draco approached. Draco skidded to a halt thirty feet from her, with Harry taking his flank.

From this close, it was now clear what the Narhassa students had been doing. They had surrounded a transparent cone of green energy that was situated in the center of the dome.

Harry's eyes widened, for within the cone, was a girl who appeared to be no older than a first year student at Hogwarts, kneeling with fatigue. Messy, disheveled green hair billowed down off her head and cleared her waste. Her olive skin seemed to be the exact same hue as Draco's, for the strange lighting in the chamber strangely affected most color. It was likely that her skin would appear ghostly fair outside.

Indeed, she was a beautiful looking little girl, with innocent looking emerald eyes... again a likely trick of the light.

"Please..." said the small girl monotonically. "Free me..."

Carle spun her wand with the skill of someone who was used to using it before. She leveled it at Draco, and spoke.

"Was Voldemort not enough for you, Potter?" she asked slyly... and soothingly. "You just had to bring yourself down here."

Harry leveled both of his wands at Carle. "Ron's dead... Jessica. Everyone who is responsible for this night will join him."

The news seemed to arch one of Carle's brows, but she quickly regained her composure. The rest of the Narhassa students watch the exchange from slumped positions, either on their knees or on their backs... it seemed as though they had taxed themselves beyond their limits.

Draco simply remained quiet, realizing that it was Harry's turn to do the talking now. Instead, he calmly held his blade at the ready... to take her down in case she turned volatile.

"A real pity," said Jessica, showing no sign of remorse, in fact, an evil smile crossed her face. "I bet its just killing you on the inside... if only you had not meddled with Narhassa."

Harry's eyes screamed, while his voice remained silent.

"But," said Jessica in a soothing whine as she held her wand steady. "You know the old motto... play with matches, and you get burned." Carle then winked at Harry, talking in her soothing, sweet innocent voice. "Too bad you and Malfoy didn't take the hint sooner... your little friend might still be alive."

Harry scowled at Jessica, feeling nothing would be more righteous than giving the Killing Curse right here and now.

"It's your fault, you are why he was up here!" hissed Harry, feeling so betrayed, crushed and defeated that he wondered what the point of striking down Jessica would even be.

Jessica pushed her light green hair out of her eyes, her strikingly beautiful features pulled into a malicious leer.

"Just think: Ron's death and your failure will mark the end of the Wizarding World as you know it... Seth and I will rise as one to the coveted positions of Dark Lords, bringing with us a reign of pure and unequaled dominance."

Jessica chuckled bitterly, twirling her wand between her fingers. "I will, of course, understand if that is of little consolation to you."

Harry closed his eyes, shaking with anguish... now realizing what the point of striking her down would be.

"No more words!"

Without any delay, Jessica took the first move, ceasing her wand's spin and releasing a spell before Harry could even blink.

"Statsto Infallibile!"

Before Draco could bring the sword of Gryffindor to bear, an amber bolt of light struck him heavily in the chest. As the bolt washed over his body, a pillar of golden light exploded from his feet, enveloping him in a swirling embrace. The pale boy was completely stationary, as if frozen within. Doubt suddenly crept into Harry's mind as he prepared to engage the girl he once loved in a duel to the death.

Harry, if you can hear me... said Ron's voice in Harry's ear, from countless times before. I'm here with you...

On instinct, Harry began casting a stream of spells from his wand.

"Stupefy, Impedimenta, Furnunculus!" cried Harry.

Riscaldare, Effetto, Fiacco! sounded Ron's voice in Harry's head.

The stream of spells, which stemmed from alternating wands pushed Jessica back on her heels as she desperately recited the counter curses for each of Harry's hexes. While she did not have the breath to question Harry, her eyes betrayed her perplexed state. No wizard in history had ever been able to master the use of two wands at once... and Harry had never shown the slightest interest in trying before.

Yet, here he was, wielding twice the magic potential without even flinching with effort.

A rainbow of colors shot forth from both Harry and Ron's wand, forcing Jessica on the total defense as she struggled to counter, matching Harry's spells with clashing colors, creating a dazzling, if not blinding display.

Yet, Harry did not let up as he spun his two wands, aiming low, high, and even launched curses off the floor, deflecting them into Jessica's path. Spells ripped, blasted and hissed out of the tip of each wand... and Ron's voice continued to sound in Harry's head, as if he were right there beside him. Little did Harry know that half of his hexes were ones he had never used before; it was as if someone else was casting them through him.

The drained Narhassa students pushed themselves back away from the two wizards, their faces alight with stunned admiration at the sheer complexity of a true wizard's duel.

Jessica continued to retreat and sidestep, trying to avoid being cornered against one of the cavernous drop-offs, leading to a fiery, liquid magma death.

"Petrificus Totalis Expelliarmus!" roared Harry, as he worked his wands in a circular motion, shooting off magnificent blue, red and violet bolts of light.

Cetratus Dislokkata, cried Ron, ringing in Harry's ears.

"Patromum Negatis!" cried Jessica desperately, as she continued backing up, her wand a blur in her hands as she thwarted Harry's hexes. Her eyes widened and sweat was visibly pouring down her face.

It was obvious to Harry that Jessica was, by far, the better duelist. He was not sure how, or where she learned... but if it was not for Ron's wand pumping out curses and hexes twice as fast as Harry could process them, he would have been helpless before her.

Harry's last hex, the Disarming Charm, shot Jessica's wand from her hand with explosive force.

"Accio Wand!" cried Jessica desperately, as the wand did a U turn in midair heading back for her hand.

Yet, before Jessica could catch the wand as it swung around... her arm properly dropped to the ground, victim of a Dislocation Charm that Harry had never once studied. Jessica looked down at her fallen arm with astonishment, wiggling her own fingers and watching them respond.

"Reducto!" cried Harry, a blast of white energy shooting out of his own wand, sending Jessica sprawling to the ground with a screech of indignity. Jessica's wand flew on by, the power of her summoning charm broken. To her horror, it bounced against the ground next to her and skipped off the nearby ledge, into the lava below.

At once, the spell around Draco faded, allowing the pale faced by to blink and shake his head... as he tried to piece together what just happened.

Locomotor Mortis! cried Ron's voice, as a cord of violet energy shot forth from the tip of Ron's wand, binding her legs together. Jessica cried out in frustration as she was rendered helpless.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" scowled the enraged boy as he lifted Jessica off the ground with his spell. With three bold steps, he pushed her forward, holding both wands steady as Jessica's body flew from above solid ground... to above the same lava canal her wand had just been lost in.

"Don't!" cried Jessica, in a terrified voice, shielding her eyes with the one arm she had left. "Mercy! I beg you!"

The rest of the Narhassa students, as well as Draco, dropped their jaws at the amazing result of the duel. None of the Muggles had the energy to stop Harry, as he shook his wand, causing Jessica to feel the reverberations.

Harry scowled. "I'll give you mercy... you'll pay for Ron's death!"

Jessica coughed loudly, the wind still clearly knocked out of her from the Blasting Curse Harry nailed her with. "It isn't my fault! I'm sorry!"

"Yes it is..." sneered Harry, as Jessica's body began to descend into the lava.

The Girl He Loved screamed in terror, "Harry, if you do it... if you kill me... you'll never be the same!"

"I'll never be the same again," muttered Harry darkly, as he continued her descent, his eyes glaring with wicked, twisted sense of justice. "Now, reap what you sow."

Quite surprisingly to Harry, another voice spoke, drawing Harry a bit from his zealous stupor.

"Potter," said Draco, in his usual drawling voice, with no sense of sarcasm or anger, "Do you really think this is how Weasley would want his death to be remembered... the event that turned his best friend into a cold-blooded killer?"

Jessica's descent was promptly halted as Harry lowered his head, digesting Draco's words critically.

"Think about it," said Draco, backing off of Harry.

And Harry did just that... until Malfoy's grave tone broke. Apparently, he could not live with himself almost coming off as genuine.

"But, if you still decide to roast the tart... I'm sure Weasley won't voice a complaint."

That subtle reminder that Ron would not voice anything again was all the push Harry needed as he turned back to his task, lowering Jessica slowly into the lava, his face shaded green from the ominous light within the room.

Jessica's screams of pain began to fill is ears as she neared the surface of the lava, for no doubt the heat was scorching her severely. Harry could feel his own resolve faltering and indecision and confusion began to grip his soul. Killing one Narhassa student in self-defense is one thing... but am I really going to do THIS?

As Harry lapsed, there was one other voice that seemed to make a go at convincing him.

If you can here me..., said the voice of his best friend, ringing within his left ear. I'm not dead... look... don't do this, Harry! Don't turn into Voldemort!

No... said Harry's own voice in his head. He could feel his doubt... for Ron's voice was in his head, speaking of present events. I must be insane... that is the only explanation.

Harry... can you hear me?... I told you once and... I will tell you again, you are NOT a Dark Wizard, and never will be one!

All throughout his descent into Narhassa's lair, Ron's voice had been with him. At first, Harry had dismissed it as remorse; perhaps it was his own guilt trying to manifest Ron to make him seem less distant. Yet, after hearing Ron chanting the words for spells, which had flowed through his wand, and now hearing Ron, giving Harry a pep talk concerning his present situation... there seemed to be more than just a bit of temporary insanity here.

And with a flick of his wrist, Harry shot Jessica up from her descent down to the lava below. The green light of the room upon his face might make him look like a freshly risen zombie, but he was not as mindless as one. Jessica came crashing down upon the ground next to Harry, wandless and defenseless.

"Take your arm," said Harry coldly, "and get out of here... hope that your father has a plan to escape Voldemort's wrath, or you will have wished I dropped you in the magma today, compared to what he'll do to you."

Deciding that questioning her luck would be imprudent, Jessica grabbed up her dislocated arm with her other hand, and began to rush across the hall, to escape the room. Draco also looked at Harry curiously, as if wondering what caused the change in heart.

Jessica did not manage to escape the room, however, before Seth Redetyor and the other half of Narhassa students entered.

Draco held out his sword and closed the distance between him and Harry. "When it rains, it pours... huh?"

All Harry could do was nod.