The Fall Of The Dark Lord

The Fall of the Dark Lord

Chapter 4: The Graduation Banquet

 

The common room was still buzzing with excitement from the competition when Harry, Hermione and Ron walked in. Harry was met with praises similar to those Ron was spouting on their way back from the hospital wing and he felt his ears turn red. Looking for a quick retreat he made a few hasty comments before bolting to the boys’ dormitory until everyone’s adrenaline calmed down.

 

Once he was upstairs and out of the crowd he flopped down on his bed and became aware of the low stinging in his scar. It was different than it had been at other times. The pain was dull and lasting. Any other time it had been short-lived, but still excruciating. All enjoyment from earlier in the day was quickly wiped away by his normal disturbed thoughts. His fingers found the scar and traced the shape over and over again.

"Primus…Primus…Damn it, what does that mean!?!" he growled. He got back up quickly and walked into the upstairs bathroom. He leaned on the sink and stared in the mirror, pulling his bangs away from his forehead. The pain was still there. He had gone to Dumbledore any other time his scar hurt. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea now…and maybe Dumbledore could give him some insight on his dreams… "Remember…set me free…if you want to save any of them…" Harry shook his head in frustration, "I don’t understand!" He dropped his hand and growled again, "Damn it!" He brought his fists down hard on the sink and heard a very loud crack.

When he looked up the mirror above the sink had been broken: a great fissure spread across the middle. Harry gasped and quickly looked about to see that no one had witnessed it. He left the bathroom at once to go strait to Dumbledore.

 

Harry stood outside the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, trying to think of what the password might be. The job wouldn’t have been as tedious if the original gargoyle was still the guard, but its head had accidentally been smashed by the Weasley twins when they were still their mischievous selves. A new gargoyle had been brought in, and a very dumb one at that.

"Chocolate Frogs?"

"Duh…Nope…Nope…Nope…" the statue wagged its head, "Try again," the statue smiled and batted it’s blank eyes.

"Every Flavored Beans?"

The statue only giggled.

"Marsh-mellow Tweets?"

"Un-uh."

Harry sighed and fell back against the wall behind him. He crossed his arms in thought. "Butterbeer!"

"Mmmmmmmmno."

Harry paused and held the bridge of his nose as he thought. He heard footsteps coming his way. He looked up.

"Potter, what are you doing sneaking around up here?"

Ah, Snape. Irritable as ever.

"I need to talk to Dumbledore, do you know where he is?"

"No."

"Are you still under the truth serum?"

"Yes," Snape snarled, "Damn it, Potter! I am going to have your head on a platter for this!"

"I didn’t make you take it, Snape. You knew full well it was real."

"Potter, I swear…"

"Do you pose any real threat to me?"

"No. Jesus Christ!" Snape turned, baring his teeth in frustration.

"Think of it this way Professor Snape," Harry said, "in two more days I’ll be out of your hair forever."

"Thank God for small favors!" Snape snarled, walking past him.

"It’ll wear off in another hour," Harry called after him.

"I know that you idiot!"

As soon as Snape was gone Harry went back to his guessing game with the gargoyle. "Jelly Worms?"

"Nu-uh."

"Sugared Salamander Tails."

"Nope."

"Reeses Peanut Butter Cups," a voice called from down the hall. The gargoyle jumped down from his station. Harry looked down the corridor to see Professor Dumbledore approaching him.

"But that’s a muggle candy!" Harry complained.

"I know, but they’re still good. I like to eat the peanut butter first. I’ll take it you need to talk to me Harry?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Then step into my office," Dumbledore let Harry enter before him and the gargoyle jumped back in place after Dumbledore passed into the room. Harry sat down into the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk, where the headmaster soon sat down. "What’s troubling you Harry?"

"My scar’s been hurting, nearly constantly all day. I just noticed it after the competition though. It’s different than normal, it’s dull, and well, constant. Normally it comes for only a few seconds, and it’s biting, like hot knives, but this is different."

"I see," Dumbledore said, crossing his fingers, "Do you think that Voldemort is up to something?"

"I don’t know…" Harry’s gaze fell for several seconds, his fingers felt along his scar again, "Professor, what does the word ‘Primus’ mean to you?"

Harry saw the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye light up for a second, "It depends where it’s used. ‘Primus’ is Latin for first, or foremost; principal; distinguished; eminent…does that help at all?"

Harry sighed, "Not really…"

"Harry, is there something that you’re not telling me?"

"Yeah…for the past year or so, I’ve had recurring nightmares of the night Voldemort killed my parents. I mean, not what they used to be…not the screams and the light…no…the whole night—exactly what happened. I think I’m actually seeing what happened to them. The actual event, not something fabricated. Last month when I…lost myself…last month was the first time I’d seen everything. I couldn’t handle it…what Voldemort did to them—to my father in particular—it was just to much…his eyes…" Harry brought his hands up to his own eyes without even realizing it.

"What happened to James’ eyes Harry?"

"God…Voldemort shattered his glasses lens into his eyes…completely blinded him…"

Dumbledore nodded, "Quassarius. The Shattering charm…That can be a nasty defensive or torture sometimes…"

"Anyway," Harry started up again, "Last night was the first time I ever saw past the light. I saw how I survived, but I still don’t understand why. Dumbledore, I already had my scar! It was lighter, but it was there. But, after he killed my mother, it got darker—blood red…and Voldemort seemed afraid of me. Weird things were happening. The lights exploded…the windows shattered…the walls were shaking…and Voldemort wasn’t doing it. He was…afraid…And then he turned to me and was yelling, as if I was doing it, and I think I was. He cast the Avada Kedavra, and it hit me, right on the scar and split it open, but it reflected back onto him…and then the house came down, and everything fell around me, as if I was behind an invisible shield." Harry looked at Dumbledore, who still had the twinkle in his eye. "Can you tell me what any of it meant?"

Dumbledore put his hands on his desk, "Harry, I could give you theories, but I know that you are the only person who can truly find your answers, and I think that you are very close to finding them now. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. After the house caved in, everything faded into darkness, and then I was in the dream, and I confronted—I guess it was supposed to be my subconscious. There was another boy there, a double of me…and yet not. He was different than me…he was cold…and his scar was blood red like it had been in the first part of the dream. He kept saying that I had to remember and that I had to set him free if I was going to save any of them. He didn’t tell me what I was supposed to remember, how I was supposed to set him free, or who I needed to save…it’s driving me crazy…and it all has to deal with that stupid word, I can feel it in my bones!"

Dumbledore crossed his fingers again and leaned his forehead against his closed hands. He took a deep breath and exhaled, "Harry, I have a very solid theory over all of this. In fact I am almost certain that I am correct, but I think that you would do better if you figured this out for yourself. Once you are closer to understanding maybe I can tell you some of the answers. I want you to keep your guard up right now. If your scar has been hurting, then Voldemort is most likely planning something. Be very careful, and if you notice anything else strange, be sure to come to me immediately. I have to prepare for the banquet now, I suggest you do the same. Is there anything else you need Harry?"

"No sir."

"Well then, why don’t we get out of this stuffy old hole?"

Harry got out of the chair and started for the door, "Professor, one of the mirrors in the boys’ dorm is broken."

"What happened?"

"I…had an accident…split it down the middle."

"Well, I’ll have Filch look into it."

"Thank you Professor."

 

"Well, that didn’t help at all," Harry complained to himself as he walked back to the Gryffindor common room. He paused at the picture of the fat lady, "Ingrown toenails." The portrait swung open and Harry went in. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he went. He saw Ron and Hermione in front of the fireplace playing a game of chess. Hermione was hopelessly losing. "How’s it going?" Harry asked sitting down beside her noticing that Ron’s knight was beating the crap out of her last pawn.

"How does it look like it’s going?"

Ron had nearly every one of his pieces encircling Hermione’s king. After her last move he had her in a five-way check.

"Give up?" Ron asked.

Hermione groaned, putting her hand over her eyes and moved her king to the left.

"Checkmate!" Ron’s rook clobbered her king and it was over.

"I demand a rematch!"

"Harry, do you want to play a game?"

"Nah, that’s OK. I’d rather watch you two."

"Sure you would," Ron smirked, noticing that Harry hadn’t looked at the chessboard at all since he sat down.

"Hermione," Harry started. She looked at him, still disgruntled by her horrible defeat.

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering, would you like to go to the banquet…together…tonight?" Harry stammered. She smiled.

"I’d love to Harry," she suddenly glanced at her watch, "Oh, wow! Look at the time, I guess I’d better get ready, shouldn’t I?" With that she jumped up and briskly went up to the girls’ dorm.

Harry looked over at Ron who could barely contain himself until Hermione was out of sight.

And then he was on Harry in an instant, mussing his hair and cooing about Harry and Hermione’s first date. "Did you see how fast she went to get ready? She wants to look extra special, Harry!"

"Get off!" Harry snarled as they entered into a short wrestling match, "Get off now!" It ended with Ron sitting on Harry’s back with Harry propping his face up with one arm and monotonously wrapping his fingers on the floor with the other until Ron had gotten his fill of tormenting him.

Soon they went to get ready themselves, Ron rather excited because he had been able to get brand new dress robes that year that didn’t look like an frumpy old lady’s nightgown. They were royal blue with silver trimmings. Harry had remained with basic black, although they did have gold trimmings for flair.

Ron was taking his time getting ready, slicking his hair back in an attempt to look suave. "Hey, you’re only going to be a Seventh Year once, right?" Harry had taken one good look in the mirror and given up. Hermione would just have to settle for the anime look. Lord knows they draw everyone’s hair sticking up like mine. A couple of Second Years from muggle homes were very interested in anime. Harry pondered himself as the character Van Fannel for several seconds before Ron grabbed him by the arm and headed out to the common room.

It was about 7:30, and the banquet was starting at 8:00. The common room was buzzing with excitement. All of the Seventh Years were in dress robes, although the other six classes could choose whether or not to wear them. The upper classes were wearing them, but the First and Second Years generally didn’t. Harry and Ron sat playing a game of chess while they waited for Hermione, although Harry was watching the door to the girls’ dorm more than the chessboard, and was getting beaten mercilessly because of it.

"Oh, come on Harry! You’re not even trying!"

"Sure I am," Harry looked down long enough to move his knight forward.

"Yeah, you’re trying all right! We’ve been playing for two minutes and you’ve already got yourself in check!"

"I do?"

"Oh never mind!"

Then she came out, dressed in stunning emerald green robes, the frizziness of her hair tamed into dozens of curls. Harry stood up to meet her and Ron whistled. She looked even better than she had at the Yule Ball their Fourth Year. Harry checked his watch; it was 7:55.

"Don’t you look smug," she said when she saw Ron’s slicked back hair.

"And don’t you look…uh…curly…yeah…curly," he answered.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked, extending his arm.

"Certainly!" she took his arm and the three Seventh Years started to the great hall. Ron nudged Harry in the ribs as they went, and he was elbowed in return.

 

Hustle and bustle.

That’s what the Great Hall was like. Especially for the underclassmen that had never seen the hall so decorated. Sure, Halloween was it’s normal blowout, but the Seventh Year banquet was decorated to the extent of a muggle prom. In fact, the Seventh Years’ banquet was the equivalent to a muggle prom. Those students who had chosen to only wear their school robes were feeling rather sheepish when they walked into the hall, which had been decorated to resemble an ice cavern, complete with a glistening shine covering the floor, ceiling and all the walls. The tables were moved about so that the floor was completely open for dancing. A small orchestra of about fifteen self-playing instruments had been brought in for entertainment, and were presently floating in front of the faculty table warming up.

Harry, Hermione and Ron entered and approached the Gryffindor Table, which was covered with a shimmering white tablecloth. Harry pulled out Hermione’s chair for her, making her blush. The orchestra had started playing a slow sonata as Dumbledore called for everyone’s attention.

He stood up at the faculty table and cleared his throat to speak over the quiet music, "Welcome, everyone! I’m pleased to have all of you at the banquet tonight to honor this year’s graduating class. It has been twenty years since the rest of the school was invited to it, so you should all feel very privileged. But I’m sure that you are all dying to know who the winners of the Battle of the Classes were. Seventh Place goes to the Sixth Years who won 32 points for their class, Sixth Place goes to the Second Years, who won 34 points, Fifth Place goes to the Fourth Years who won 37 points, Fourth Place goes to the First Years, who won 38 points, Third Place goes to the Third Years, who won 39 points, Second Place goes to the Fifth Years who won 45 points, and last but not least, winning 55 points, the graduating class takes First Place and the coupons for free Butterbeers!"

There were cheers from all the Seventh Years in the hall.

"I told you we’d win," Hermione poked Ron, "My figuring doesn’t lie!"

"No, I told you that we would win simply because our class rocks!"

"Well I had the proof!" Hermione shot back.

They continued arguing for several minutes while Harry just rolled his eyes and let them go at it. Harry rubbed his fingers over his scar, the buzzing sensation was getting worse. He tried to ignore it and watched Hermione as she chirped at Ron. He loved the way she got flushed when she was rattled. The buzzing was almost completely out of his thoughts.

Hermione turned to him, "OK, Harry, who do you think is right, me or him?"

"Frankly I don’t think it matters, you’re both right."

"Oh, come on, you have to take a side! Someone has to be overruled!"

Harry was about to respond when the buzzing in his scar erupted into searing and electric pain. He cried out, falling forward against the table, one hand clutching at his brow, the other clutching the tablecloth. At the same time he heard someone else scream. He opened one eye enough to see Snape across the hall bent over the Slytherin table clutching his left forearm.

The Dark Mark…

Voldemort was calling, and the closer he was to a Death Eater the more painful the burning.

"No…" Harry whispered and clenched his eyes shut again.

"DUMBLEDORE!" he heard Snape yell, "HE’S ON THE GROUNDS!"

Before anyone could react the back wall where the entrance from the lake was suddenly cracked with an incredible force and a space the size of a one-story house crumbled to ruble. A high pitched laugh was heard as the dust cleared and a dark figure stepped up onto the fallen stones.

Screaming and confusion took over as the people in the hall rushed away from the destroyed wall.

"It has taken me three years," a hissing voice was heard though the dust from the figure, "but I have managed to undermine every defense of this compound."

Dumbledore whipped out his wand, but before he could use it…

"Expelliarmus!"

Red light erupted from the figure and Dumbledore’s wand flew out of his hand and into the figure’s hand.

"Now, we can’t have that, Albus, you will spoil my fun…"

"NO!!!" Snape shouted as the figure raised his wand again. He ran forward with his own wand extended, but the figure was too fast.

"Oppessulare!"

A purple jet of light shot at Snape, and when it his him this arms locked to his sides causing him to drop his wand. Snape screamed as some force confined his arms tighter and tighter against his sides until a terrible snap was heard as one broke at his elbow. Snape hit his knees as the voice came again from the figure.

"You disappoint me, Severus. The penalty for insubordination, or more importantly treason, is death. You threw away a very promising career."

Snape laughed bitterly in pain, "Consider it my greatest honor!"

The figure whipped his arm about and suddenly Snape was thrown backward into the Slytherin table. The figure laughed heartily and walked out of the flying dust.

"Yes," he whispered, his bloody eyes darting about the Great Hall, "it is good to be home. Especially now that my people may tread freely here once more."

As soon as he had said that those who had drawn their wands in defense were horrified as dozens of black-robed figures appeared out of no where all around the hall, each pointing their wands at groups of people.

Harry had jumped back from the table still clutching his stinging scar as Hermione latched onto his arm. They both began to scream as a Death Eater who was unmistakably Lucius Malfoy appeared before them.

"He’s broken all the protections over Hogwarts!" Harry hissed though clenched teeth.

"Do not attempt to resist," Voldemort said, "It is pointless. My powers have tripled in the last three years. I have already won."