Death Penalty
Rain pounded the roof of Harry Potter's house, thoroughly contrasting the scene inside. The latter included a family had finished eating supper an hour ago, and had begun the usual post-supper wind-down where the Potters cozied up on the furniture and read the Prophet or sipped some coffee. Ginny sat on the armchair by the hearth, stirring a finger through the pot of Floo Powder that sat there on the end table with her as she read the newspaper; Harry on the sofa, staring into the warm, crackling fire.
"Weather prophets are predicting rain for the next few days, dear," Ginny said from the armchair. "Will this affect the new task you got from the office?"
Harry got up and strode over to the window, witnessing the rain tear apart his beautiful lawn. "Probably not, knowing the weather in Northern Ireland. The other Aurors aren't worried about it. But with my luck, it probably will rain. Nothing worse than trying to track a potential Dark wizard through miles of slick mud."
"How long do you think this job will take?"
"Not long. So far his work has been messy, kind of hesitant. It's more likely a young adult with a swollen ego, imitating the Dark Arts rather than daring to use them himself."
"That's good news," Ginny said calmly. Harry figured she was probably still worried. He had reassured her so many times… "Come sit with me Harry? I'm cold."
Harry wasn't listening; a dark shape was sweeping up the drive, hood drawn.
Up the drive…
Quickly, numbly, Harry tried to Apparate a few feet to his left, closer to Ginny; never before had he hoped the squeezing sensation wouldn't come as strongly as he had now. Please, let the sensation not come.
With an all-encompassing squeeze, release, and pop, he appeared right where he had been Apparating to.
Harry gave Ginny a grim and meaningful look.
She nodded, stood up, and ran toward the bedroom. Harry knew she was grabbing James. Good.
The shape would be upon the door at any moment. No friendly figure would wear all black to blend in with the dark rain, break down his defensive anti-Apparition enchantments, and stride calmly up the drive to his front door. No, this was an enemy; that much he knew.
He rolled up his sleeves, drew his wand, and slowly turned to face the door.
BANG.
The door was thrown off its hinges and a figure, probably male, stepped into the house. It appeared to have kicked the door down, rather than use magic. Definitely male. Harry pointed his wand and aimed a curse; the intruder deflected it with a flick of its wand. Before Harry could see where his curse went, the enemy sent a chunk of door at him, big, hard and FAST –
Harry dodged to the side, waved his wand toward the chunk of door, and Transfigured it into a ninja throwing star, using its previous momentum to send it back to its source, a source now encompassed by a black, smoky shield –
The ninja star made contact with the smoke, and it shattered, sending chunks of metal everywhere; one struck Harry in the ear, and he cried out in pain, but he had no time for pain, he had to fight –
The shield began glowing, and as Harry realized what it was about to do, he quickly conjured a shield around himself; the shards that had exploded out of it were drawn back towards it with slick ferocity, but their target was safe behind a wall of light; Every shard that made it through his glowing, pure shield was transfigured into a dagger of blinding white metal, shooting towards the enemy with fiery force –
Out of time to react, the enemy pointed his wand at the ceiling, dropping a mound of sheetrock between him and the daggers, and they shot into it, peppering out little clouds of gypsum dust; Harry thought they probably penetrated it and made contact with the attacker, but when four bloody, glossy black daggers shot back at him he didn't have time to check. One dagger caught his leg, and pinned him to the wall in a streak of blood; gritting his teeth and muttering painkilling incantations, he jerked it out. Pain is only a message. A message can be ignored.
Blown sideways by the force of a pushing spell of some sort, Harry landed on, or rather IN, what had been his sofa; rolling to the side to dodge a jet of multicolored light, Harry sent a Stunner wildly towards the figure. No return jet of light followed…
Harry stood up, breathing hard, worried that the attacker was still conscious, worried for Ginny, worried about his leg. In one hand he clutched the dagger he had wrenched from it, and he held it with the tip pointing towards the ground, though the knuckle of his thumb faced the crumbling ceiling.
A chunk of drywall trickled down from the hole in the roof, landing with a poof on the mound in front of him. Harry sidestepped it, wand still at the ready; any sign of the attacker and there would be blood.
Cautiously, Harry took another step forward… the silence seemed to weigh down on the wrecked ceiling. Adrenaline fading slightly, the pain in his leg was heating up with every step. If not for those pain-relieving spells, I would be on the ground right now…
The glint of an eye; Harry spun towards it, ready to attack, but was forced to create a shield to deflect the opposing spell up through the whole in the ceiling.
Poised to attack as soon as he could, Harry was a freeze frame with his wand out at arm's length, pointing towards the head of the figure, across the mound of sheetrock and plaster. Before he could attack, however, the roof swayed drunkenly, the walls moving with it.
Both opponents looked up at it, fearing for their lives; a chunk of mortar of some kind rained down and struck Harry in the chest – falling backward without a conscious thought formed yet, Harry realized his knife hand had fallen by his side, hard, deeply embedding itself in the man's chest.
Harry gazed at the man in horror; his hood pointed toward his chest, although no face was visible... Unable to move his arm, or any of that side of his body for that matter, Harry lay pinned as his hand was coated in warm, sticky blood…
No…No… who is he… what does he want? I didn't want this… "Aargh.."
Harry fell unconscious, into a drugged sleep, knowing that the man who lay next to him slept deeper than even he.
