The battle was lost and Avery knew it.
With a roar, fresh reinforcements surged down the main stairs into the Hogwarts entrance hall and House Elves swept up from the dungeons. From the main doors, the Death Eaters were falling back in their droves, overwhelmed by the enraged adversaries. Harry Potter's miraculous resurrection had galvanised the defenders with a fire the Death Eaters could not match. Even Avery's master seemed afraid. Even now Avery could see him, the greatest wizard of the age, duelling his way to the Great Hall, leaving his loyal followers to die in his name. He fought with unmatched skill, but it was this a skilful retreat. Well, enough was enough.
All thought of escape was cut from his mind as a student, leapt in front of him and hurled a stunning spell at him. Parrying it easily, Avery whirled his wand on the youth and sent his frail corpse. The light of the spell danced eerily in the boys widening eyes, before his frail corpse was sent flying in a burst of green light. Then another student, a girl, her eyes again wide in rage and fear and screaming so terribly that it almost curdled Avery's blood, hurled herself in front of the Death Eater.
Another flash and her life was carried up like an autumn leaf in a breeze. It wasn't personal, he needn't to survive and if they insisted on making themselves martyrs. This battle would make martyrs of them all, but not him.
Where was Harry Potter? Even in the midst of this final dreadful stand, Avery's mind worked frantically at that question. What tricky concealed him? If the Chosen One found him, he was done for, no magic could reawaken the dead and yet his master and Potter had both returned to life. Two wizards of such power deserved to face and die against each other.
And where was the boy? That insolent mudblood, through whose veins ran so hot with a desire for vengeance that it drove him to seek Avery in this charnel house.Well no matter how pertinent those questions were, he wasn't going to wait around to indulge his curiousity. Voldemort had failed, and one way or the other Avery's blood was wanted. Someone would kill him if he stayed, maybe even the boy…His thoughts paused for a moment as a couple of house elves decided to cross his path, but a quick Cruciartous Curse dispatched them both. The dungeons would offer a concealed and lightly defended way out of the castle. He would live to fight another day.
Avery faltered in his first couple of steps. At the top of the entrance steps stood a youth, little more than seventeen, clad in a blasted, bloodied and torn Gryffindor uniform. He might have been indistinguishable from the masses locked in battle around him, if he wasn't standing stock still, a look of pure hatred fixed on Avery. Here was a face the Deatheater knew, although it disturbed him that he should. Out of all his victims why should Xander Fellwier stand out? This flicker of doubt passed as the realisation than Xander would become indistinguishable from all of his other victims shortly dawned on Avery. Death was the great social leveller, and easer troublesome burdens.
Whisking his cloak around, Avery barrelled through a crowd of house elves, heading for the dungeon entrance, enticing his quarry to his death. Any good angler would tell you the importance of bait, and for Xander, Avery was irresistible.
Down the dark stairs, Avery plunged into the gloom of Hogwarts catacombs. As he ran the sound of the battle, the screams, the spells and clashes of the giants grew duller, until the sound of his footsteps, his heartbeat and his frantic pursuer were all that filled his ears. No use getting to far ahead or losing Fellwier, he had a job to finish. Only when the typical frantic stunning spell zoomed past his head, did Avery turned to face his pursuer, wand in hand.
Xander Fellwier pulled up some thirty feet from his pursuer, panting, red-faced, but wand levelled at Avery. His deep blue eyes brimmed with angry tears. His expression of pure rage tickled Avery a little, the boy had spirit, for all the good it was about to do him. Emotional killers always made mistakes.
"Well done," he smiled, the sultry tones of his mockery echoing down the hallway, "Well done. Now you can kill me."
Xander's wrist bang to shake as he took a step closer to Avery. Hot tears rolling down his face, as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Good, Avery thought, no need to Crucio him, he's torturing himself enough.
"Come on," Avery hissed, "Karmic realignment, tit for tat, and eye for an eye…"
Xander still advanced, but by now his steps were faltering and his wrist was shaking so violently he couldn't keep his aim steady. Now his opponent had his chance.
"You're going to rot in Azkaban…" he whispered, "Rot for a hundred years for what you did to me…to all those people…"
"All in the name of a noble cause my dear Mudblood," Avery smirked, "Expelliarmus!"
With a deft flick his wrist Xander's wand flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor in the glow behind him. But just as Avery raised his wand to deliver the Killing Curse, a cry of "XANDER!" rent the air. A girl with close cut black hair and pale skin was sprinting up the corridor behind Fellwier. Avery and Xander caught each others' eye, and one's widened in fear, whilst Avery's glinted as he switched his aim.
"Sectumsempra!"
"NO! IZZIE!"
Xander flung himself across the path of the curse. With a scream and a spurt of red he fell to the ground clutching his face. The girl, Izzie, wearing a blood stained and wrecked Hogwarts uniform, screamed and ran to his side, cradling his head. Just visible on her heaving chest was a Slytherin badge.
"Xan," she moaned, "Oh Xan…"
Avery's cackle rose even over the distant sounds of battle, as he pointed his wand at the two crouching figures. Time to savour this moment, the blood traitor Isabelle Keystone and her Mudblood. Good things really did come to those who waited…
"Avada…"
His moment was ruined by a colossal tremor which ran through the whole castle and the wild sounds of cheering from above. Avery hesitated, as a faint tingle ran through the mark on his forearm. His master…his master was…
"REDUCTO!"
The girl screamed the spell, before he'd even realised it. Hurled back in a rush of dust and fragments of stone as the roof of the passage was smashed by her curse, Avery landed hard on his back. Winded, he could just make on the dim huddled figures in the passage beyond, before a torrent of rocks blocked them from view. So she'd saved him, she dared to disgrace her heritage, her species for a common muggle-born boy…a little disappointing, but no matter…he was alive. Nor would he forget this, should he survive this day, Isabelle Keystone would be made to suffer.
However, there was sweet satisfaction in all this. He'd told Xander an eye for an eye, how sweetly ironic he'd got actually take his eye! A cracked smile spread over Avery's face, and his maniacal laughter filled the whole tunnel. Tears of sadistic joy mingled with the grim, dust and blood on his face. An eye for an eye, quite literally!
Rolling to his feet, he swept off down the corridor. So what if Xander was still alive? He'd killed the boy's parents easily enough. The boy would die in good time, and he needed a hobby to pursue in his exile. Now, where was that passage. Left of the torch bracket, and…
Leaning against the dank wall, Avery pushed on a stone. A whole section of wall slide how of sight revealing a dark, dank tunnel. With one last cackle he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself to deal with any prying eyes. Even if the found out he was not among the dead or captured, it would be useless. Of course Fellwier could talk, in fact, if his face was still in the Daily Prophet in a couple of weeks, Avery would count it as a complement. He'd maimed Fellwier, next time he would kill him. No matter how long that took, it was worth looking forward to.
And after all, good things did come to those who waited…