Death Before Dishonor

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

Chapter Twenty-Six: Mortality

Thunder rocked the Great Hall.

However, if looking upwards at the enchanted ceiling, one would notice that outside it was a perfectly clear and gorgeous night, without a cloud in the sky. There was no physical storm to shake the castle. There was no weather phenomenon that could have done so, anyway, not with the layers of wards and defenses that had been integrated into the structure over the centuries. This wasn't a storm like any of them had ever experienced before. No, this one was magical.

Pale faces stared up at the magical representation of the Marauder's Map that decorated the far right wall. Enchanted by its makers, the map was now reflected at over twenty times its normal size, yet it still showed every detail of the castle and grounds. The Marauder's Map had begun life as a youthful mischief-making tool. Now it had become their single greatest advantage over Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Everyone in the hall now understood its significance, and all stared at the wall, watching dots move back and forth outside the castle's exterior walls. Despite their first victory, Hogwarts was still under siege. Magical as the school was, the traditional rules of warfare did not apply. Voldemort could not starve them out. He could not burn them out. He could not wait them out--the students and teachers could wait forever and still live in safety. The classic tactic of forcing his way in could not be used, either, until he broke down the wards--wards, that, for the last seven hours, his Dark wizards had been conducting an all-out assault upon. But the defenses held.

The hall was dark, except for the flickering of a few old fashioned, non-magical candles and the light from the Marauder's Map. Every bit of inherent magic the castle possessed was being poured into the wards in Dumbledore's effort to match the brute strength so many Dark witches and wizards could muster. Hogwarts' defenses, of course, were far from simple; they were complicated layers upon layers of wards, crafted and perfected by generations of headmasters and headmistresses. In many ways, they were a part of the castle itself, independent from its inhabitants. They weren't like the last-ditch and dependant wards that had been erected around the Three Broomsticks several days before--those were entirely dependant upon the caster, and drew their strength from the witch or wizard who maintained them. Hogwarts' defenses were something else entirely, made to be unbreakable.

Unfortunately, that led to other options. A dot labeled "Tom Riddle" had just appeared on the edges of the map, closing with the school from the direction of Hogsmeade. Following closely behind were the names of "Lucius Malfoy"...and "Harry Potter." Sirius took a deep breath, trying to still his racing heart. This was something that Dumbledore had not foreseen. He spoke quietly to the man at his left. "You were right."

Snape growled. "Unfortunately."

"How did you know?" Remus asked from Sirius' right.

"Because as smart as Voldemort is, he's really quiet single-minded on certain issues," the former Death Eater sneered. "His obsession with Potter, for one. He should have used his once chance on Dumbledore, but he had to go after the boy who defeated him by accident. His ego demands it. That, and he knows what kind of symbol Potter is to the magical world--and his followers--so he must destroy him. Even though doing so has very little strategic value. He doesn't expect this to work, but he expects it to divide us, and frighten those who aren't here into surrendering without a fight."

"Will it work?" Remus asked, and Sirius knew the question was for him, but he was too busy staring at his shaking hands. It wasn't something he even wanted to think of. Oh, God...Harry... "Sirius?"

"I hope not," he replied honestly, knowing that wasn't what his best friend wanted to hear, but unable to say anything else. I failed James and Lily. I won't fail Harry, too. "That depends on Dumbledore."

"You don't think--" But without warning, an owl swept into the Great Hall, catching everyone's attention as it landed on the table where the headmaster sat, startling Dumbledore to his feet. Sirius blinked, wondering why that would happen, but when the owl suddenly transformed into a snake, he understood. Its hissing voice could be heard throughout the hall.

"Lower the wards, or the boy will die," the snake said.

Then it disappeared in a cloud of black ash and smoke, leaving behind only the faintest of burn marks on the polished wood of the head table. Silence filled the Great Hall. For a few short moments, no one dared to speak, but everyone stared at the headmaster. The choice was his to make, now, and God help him, for whichever path he chose, he was sure to be damned for it. Choice, it was said, was a double-edged sword. Everything depended on this moment, and on one man's resistance. On one boy's life.

Sirius went numb. His hands had stopped shaking; he'd stopped feeling anything--then, from half the hall away, Dumbledore's eyes met his own, and he saw the sick worry the headmaster was feeling. Dumbledore had just been asked to do the impossible.

Dumbledore nodded. His eyes said it all.

Sirius nodded back. Do or die, he thought. Death before dishonor.

Both started to move, purposeful, focused--then Fawkes landed on the headmaster's right shoulder. Gently, Dumbledore began to push the phoenix away, but Fawkes' irritated cry split the hall, earning him a mystified look from the headmaster. They didn't have time for this--but the crimson and gold phoenix pecked sharply at Dumbledore's shoulder, then reached inside his robes. When Fawkes' head came up and his black eyes stared into the old wizards' he held a wand in his golden beak, hooting softly. It was Harry's.

Realization dawned on Dumbledore's face, and Sirius froze for the second time. The headmaster's awed voice was very soft. "Would you do that for me, Fawkes?"

The phoenix made a soft sound of acquiescence.

"Then go," Dumbledore whispered with tears in his eyes, and Fawkes was gone.

The Great Hall was silent for a long moment, for few grasped the significance of what had just happened. Most, after all, could not understand why Harry's wand was such a danger to Voldemort--or exactly how desperate the situation was. Nor did most know about the plans that had been laid in preparation for when a moment like this would come. Dumbledore's plans were falling into place--not perfectly, of course, for no plan ever did--and Fawkes had just become the wild card. The phoenix had, in essence, just made victory possible.

Dumbledore swung into motion, turning to face the severe woman who watched him expectantly. He spoke quietly but firmly. "It is time, Minerva."

She nodded; it was clear McGonagall had been briefed as well. Then Dumbledore turned to Sirius, who knew exactly what the headmaster would say.

"We only have moments."

"Consider it done." Three long strides took Sirius to the closest door, and he ignored it when his best friend called his name. Sorry, Remus, he thought, closing the door behind himself. He hated not telling him, but there wasn't time. Godfatherly duties call. I won't fail Harry, too.

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Harry stood facing Voldemort. He knew what the Dark Lord's ultimatum had been and what Dumbledore would have to say to it. He supposed that since using him as bait hadn't worked, Voldemort had decided to make other uses of him--but Harry thought the Dark wizard was a fool if he thought Dumbledore would give in. He couldn't. There was too much at stake, and the life of one person wasn't worth leaving Hogwarts open to Lord Voldemort. Harry knew that. Dumbledore knew that. So where did Voldemort get off thinking it would work?

Unless he just wants an excuse to kill me, Harry thought to himself. Unfortunately, that didn't help the situation much--not like much would have. The only thing that would have made him feel better would have been having a wand (any wand, actually; it didn't even have to be his own), but Voldemort wasn't that stupid. It wasn't that Harry really thought that he could beat him, but he would have sure liked to try. Anything was better than being a target--which he definitely was. A target, and a symbol. Is that why he bothered to bring me all the way here? Harry wondered. To kill me right outside the castle walls, where everyone can see it and no one can doubt his powers?

A chill ran down his spine as Voldemort chuckled. Again, he was within the circle of Death Eaters, surrounded by those who wanted him dead. This time, however, there were many more of them--hundreds, it seemed; Voldemort's legion of followers had grown immensely. But something else was different--Wormtail! Pettigrew, he suddenly noticed, was missing. His parents' betrayer was nowhere in sight...but Harry couldn't afford to waste his time wondering what had happened to him. He had to concentrate on Voldemort, because several minutes had passed since the Dark Lord had sent his message, and Voldemort was speaking.

"Well, it seems your life is not so dear to Dumbledore, after all, Harry," the Dark Lord chuckled. "A pity, isn't it? Perhaps the great Muggle-lover isn't as powerful as he would like others to believe."

"Or maybe he's just smarter than you think," Harry shot back. He wasn't going to give in. Not now. He might have been as good as dead, but that didn't mean he was going to die a coward.

Voldemort's red eyes flashed. "Your false bravado might be amusing at another time," he smiled. "But now it is useless. Prepare to die, Harry Potter. It is over."

The Dark Lord brought his wand up, smiling coolly. Harry tensed. Maybe if I move fast enough, he thought desperately. I just might be able to... But what was it that Sirius had said in class? He'd said that the Killing Curse was unblockable because it tracked the intentions of the target, and thus it was able to follow anything that the victim planned on doing. Around him, Death Eaters laughed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Desperately, Harry twisted to the left, even knowing it wouldn't work--but he had to try. Anything was better than dying without a fight--

Then something knocked into him, throwing Harry back in the direction that he had come from, throwing him down on his right side--and even as he hit the ground, Harry saw green light flash through the spot he had intended to be in. Suddenly, something landed on the ground in front of his face, and there was a whooshing sound as a shadow hovered in the air above him. There was an eerie, spine-tingling noise, then, and he stared, knowing that sound from somewhere--Harry blinked.

"Fawkes?" Harry gasped.

Once more, it was Dumbledore's phoenix. Eyes widening, he glanced at the ground before him, at what Fawkes had brought him. But this time there was no sorting hat. There was no sword. There was only a wand--his wand.

"You again!" Voldemort shrieked. Obviously, someone had told him about the diary incident with his younger self. Unfortunately, though, the older Voldemort was less prone to making foolish conversation, and the Dark Lord's wand came up once more before Harry had time to grab his own. Even as the young wizard reached his hand out, Voldemort's voice thundered, "Avada Kedavra!"

Fawkes shot forward with inhuman speed.

There was a flash of green, and an unearthly phoenix scream--

And even as Harry scrambled to his feet, Fawkes fell to the ground, motionless. Lifeless. Dead. No! Harry's mind threatened to freeze, but he knew he had no time; Voldemort was brining his wand up once more to try the killing curse for a third time. It worked once--snapping his wand up, Harry cried, "Expelliarmus!"

Again, the wands connected, and Harry felt his bucking wildly in his hand. But this time the two wizards did not lift off of the ground, and the phoenix song was different--it was sad and mournful, somehow, darker and softer than before. Golden threads of light joined the brother wands, but to Harry's surprise, there was a third focus: the dead body of Fawkes, lying on the ground between him and Voldemort. This time, however, there seemed to be no time for the golden shell to form around them, and Voldemort seemed ready. The Dark Lord's lips were moving furiously, and somehow Harry knew that he was working a counter-curse to free his wand.

Harry felt his wand jerk harder, and knew this time that Voldemort was going to break the connection--but then Fawkes' body burst into brilliant red and gold flames, and his wand went cold. The connection was gone. Instinctively, Harry knew that his wand was useless; Fawkes' death had changed everything. He was defenseless, but so was Voldemort. The Dark Lord turned to Malfoy.

"Give me your wand!" Voldemort demanded.

Seconds. It was all he had. Seconds only would pass before Lucius Malfoy's spare wand was in Voldemort's hands (Harry remembered that Sirius still had the first one), before the Dark Lord could utter the killing curse a final time. Harry's mind raced, searching for options, but he could see none. The Death Eaters were closing in on him, tightening the circle, and robbing him of any chance to flee. Cold calm crept in on Harry, and he knew it was over. I guess I'll be seeing Mum and Dad after all, he thought to himself, strangely at peace with himself.

Suddenly, a crash came from behind him, and he knew that the layers of defenses surrounding Hogwarts had just come down. NO! Like the legion of Death Eaters surrounding him, Harry spun, not understanding why Dumbledore would give in. The outer gates were open, inviting Voldemort inside, inviting attack, destruction, and death--how could he? Harry wondered desperately. I'd rather die than--a black form had cleared the gates with amazing speed; there was something in the sky above it, both closing quickly with the circle of Death Eaters. Even as it swept over the ground, though, the giant black dog transformed into a man.

"Stupefy!"

A wave of power swept over the assembled Death Eaters, knocking the ones closer to the gates unconscious, and rocking the rest. Harry saw Voldemort stagger, but spin angrily, changing his target to Harry's godfather and raising Malfoy's wand. But Sirius never broke stride; he kept coming--another screech split the air, followed quickly by Voldemort's cry of pain.

A great white eagle had collided with the Dark Lord, scraping its talons across his face. Voldemort went down, clutching madly at his bleeding features with one hand as the other swung wildly, striking the eagle perhaps only by chance. The eagle hit the ground in tandem with the Dark wizard, bouncing twice. Its enormous wings flapped uselessly as it struggled for balance, trying to take flight once more. Voldemort, however, howled in rage, having completely forgotten both Harry and Sirius as he kicked around on the ground. He struggled to his feet, his left hand still clutching at his face, even as the eagle recovered its equilibrium. Distantly, Harry heard Sirius call his name. Voldemort's empty right hand came up.

Empty. Suddenly, Harry realized that Voldemort had dropped Malfoy's wand.

The eagle turned into Albus Dumbledore.

"You!"

"Goodbye, Tom," Dumbledore said quietly. His blue eyes were like ice, yet they met the gaze of the dark wizard almost mildly. Voldemort's red eyes widened in hatred and fear. He dove for Malfoy's wand, but Dumbledore's wand was already coming up. His voice was quiet, but the effect was not. "Avada Kedavra."

There was a flash of green light.

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Author's Note: Okay...let me first say that I don't believe in any way that it won't be Harry who kills Voldemort in the end. However, some stories tend to surprise you in the ways they turn out, and although this one pointed to Dumbledore striking the killing blow (when I originally wanted to kill him, although Fawkes wouldn't cooperate with that one), the end result is really owed to Harry and Fawkes. They both made it possible--and I don't believe that Harry would be able to kill Voldemort at the age he is in this fic. So all you purists out there can rest assured that I am one of you--but this story didn't want to be that way, and writing it with any other ending would not be right. That said, thank you all for reading, and please review! And don't worry...it's not quite over yet.