Chapter Ten: Dawning of Scylla

Harry had now reached the day that had become known amongst wizards as the anniversary of Dumbledore's death. One of the Wizengamot finally called for a break, and said that the court would reconvene the next day.

They would then hear of what had happened that day and during the war that had followed.

Ron and Hermione were quiet that night, as they sat together by the fire in the modest home that Ron had bought with his salary as the Head Auror.

"It's hard to take in, isn't it?" He finally spoke, looking at the flames.

Hermione nodded.

"I still see him as just Harry; but then I hear him speak, and it's like some demon is using my friend's body and-" Ron trailed off. No matter how one described it, Harry was Scylla, and this testimony was proving it, inch by blood-covered and darkened inch.

Hermione reached out to take Ron's hand in silent support, but a call of "Ron!" from the fireplace in the kitchen broke the comforting stillness.

Ron sighed and made his way to the door, Hermione trailing behind him.

"What's wrong, Dean?" he asked, as he entered the room to see the frazzled face of his childhood friend.

"There's something weird with this graveyard, Ron. And I'm not talking about the Vampires. They're all quiet and sitting on their tombs just watching us."

"What?"

"We can't get to them!" Dean practically yelled in frustration. "There's this electric, fiery barrier around the entire graveyard. I've already lost a dozen men trying to get through it. And those few that made it through alive were immediately snuffed out by the Vampires. You can see them laughing at us as if it's some great sport. They know they're all safe back there."

"Pull out for tonight, and then try again in the morning," Ron sighed heavily. More setbacks; more traps set by Scylla to hinder them.

"This… living lightning has been going for days, Ron," Dean spoke, exasperated. "You know I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't bad; you've got enough to deal with. But this thing isn't going out! And they're just happy to sit there and wait for us all to die trying to get to them."

"Stop trying to get through, then. Just monitor the place. Make sure no Vampire goes in or out. We'll starve them into having to come out."

"They're not starving; they're as healthy as can be. This thing's giving them energy like you wouldn't believe!" Dean's hatred of the barrier was evident.

Ron was silent for a long time. "Siege them. Surround the field on all sides and wait it out. I'll make sure the right supplies are sent, Dean. Just wait for a while. We have to finish the trial, and then I'll see what we can do to sort this problem out."

"Oh, yeah, Scylla's still talking isn't he?"

Ron nodded, mute.

"We're all reading it. Every paper's got a copy of what he's said so far. Can't believe most of it, to tell you the truth."

"Neither can we," Ron smiled ironically. "But it's more truth than he's told any of us for a few years, it seems, so of course we don't believe it."

Dean looked like he wanted to say something comforting, but couldn't find the words. "Well, we'll get entrenched here and wait for your orders."

"Good."

Dean's face disappeared into the embers and Ron nearly faltered as he stood up from where he'd crouched to talk face to face with his subordinate. Hermione caught him, and together they slowly sank to the floor.

"Fire and lightning… Harry's protecting his Furies alright," Ron muttered darkly. "The Centaurs have disappeared into the Black Forest in Romania, and the Vampires are sitting up on their graves like kings at a banquet. Makes you wonder what stroke of luck was watching over us to let us catch Malfoy."

Hermione nodded, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

Ron sighed heavily, leaning his head against Hermione's. "Tomorrow's going to be hell."

The courtroom was just as crowded as the days before. All waited with sickening eagerness for Scylla to be brought out and to begin speaking again.

Hermione noticed that Harry's voice was hoarser than it had been the day before… probably from over-use. She sighed to herself; they wouldn't heal him after all. He was a prisoner, not a guest; a murderer, not their Savior.

But still, his words flowed like a calm river, spilling out of his mouth and filling the room with their sullen and firm truth. And Hermione wilted as he began to speak of the day Dumbledore had died, a day only two weeks after he had brought the Vampires into his circle; a day only two days after the muggles in the village surrounding Riddle Manner had begun to be sacrificed to his Vampire's appetites.

Harry listened wearily to Hermione as she spoke about who she thought the Half-Blood Prince was. He fought the urge to simply dismiss her, as rudely as he could, if he had his druthers. The Half-Blood Prince was a male, one could tell simply because of how he wrote his notes. A girl would have been… well… different.

But no, if someone was as smart as the Half-Blood-Prince, Hermione would only be happy if it was another girl. So he listened and was very happy when Jimmy Peakes arrived with a scroll written upon by Dumbledore.

His first thought was that Dumbledore had indeed found the next Horcrux. This was not good; it could interfere with Voldemort's plan. Draco had to have the Cabinet fixed before he found the next Horcrux, or Voldemort would see fit to punish him. And Harry would not let that happen.

He left Ron and Hermione's company on the excuse that he was going straight to Dumbledore, but he detoured to the Room of Requirement as soon as he was out of their sight.

"How – dare – you – aaaaargh!"

Harry came around the corner to find Trelawney sprawled upon the floor. She was right next to the Room of Requirement. Harry cursed to himself as he ran to her, as if worried for her. She could have seen Draco. He had to find out what she'd seen, and modify her memory, if necessary.

"What happened, Professor?"

"You may well ask!" she said shrilly, "I was strolling along, brooding upon certain dark portents I happened to have glimpsed…"

Harry realized that this was going nowhere fast. She wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know unless she knew he knew of the Room of Requirement. Letting it slip to her that he recognized the room, he asked her if she was not allowed into the room. It was very possible, since he hadn't been let into the room when Draco hadn't wanted him inside.

"Oh, I got in all right, but there was somebody already in there."

Draco. "Somebody in-? Who?" Harry demanded, perhaps a bit too harshly. "Who was in there?"

"I have no idea," He'd definitely been too forceful, he thought as Trelawney looked a bit shaken by his tone. He forced himself to relax and let her continue.

"I walked into the room, and I heard a voice, which has never happened before in all my years of hiding – of using the room, I mean."

"A voice? Saying what?" Had Draco said anything to give himself away?
"I don't know that it was saying anything," said Professor Trelawney. "It was… whooping."

"Whooping?" She had to be joking… Draco never whooped.

"Gleefully," she said nodding.

Harry stared at her. Maybe it wasn't Draco at all then.

"Was it male or female?

"I would hazard a guess at male," said Professor Trelawney.

It had to be Draco. He'd even said he was going to try at the Cabinet again today… but why would Draco…

Then it hit him. Draco must have fixed the Cabinet. Harry fought down a smile at this revelation; it would be perfect timing after all.

"And it sounded happy?"

"Very happy."

"As though it was celebrating?"

"Most definitely."

That had to have been it: Draco had fixed the Cabinet. The Death Eaters would be arriving soon then… and he would have to get to Dumbledore in order to make sure the Headmaster was not warned in time.

Harry talked Trelawney into going to talk to Dumbledore, fighting down scathing comments as she said she missed having him as an Object in her class.

"I am afraid," she went on, "that the nag – I'm sorry, the centaur – knows nothing of cartomancy. I asked him – one Seer to another – had he not, too, sensed the distant vibration of coming catastrophe? But he seemed to find me almost comical! Yes, comical!"

Harry couldn't hide a grin at that and ducked his head so she would not see. Of course Firenze thought her comical! "Coming catastrophe"? Firenze was helping to plan it! And it was not a distant vibration; it was a resounding disharmony!

Dumbledore had indeed found a Horcrux, Harry was told when he entered Dumbledore's office. He easily promised to obey every one of Dumbledore's orders, were they simple, or ones like "run", "hide", or "go back". He let the Headmaster's office when bidden and returned quickly to the Gryffindor Common Room to grab his invisibility cloak. He took the Marauder's Map, as well, thinking he would need to know when all was set for Dumbledore's return. He ran into Hermione and Ron, and debated what to do for a second. They were too suspicious; they knew something was going on. Quickly, he told them what had occurred. But, he knew that that would not be enough. Mentally he debated what to do, and he knew he had to appear to still trust them, to still be against Draco and Voldemort.

He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hands, telling her to watch Draco and to alert the D.A. if something happened, even mentioning that Snape may be involved. He gave Ron what was left of the Felix Felicis, as well. He didn't want them killed in the coming battle, not that particular battle, anyway.

And he left before they could respond.

Hopefully, they would treat this as another part of his "obsession with Malfoy", and pay it no mind. But, if they did pay attention, then he would have to rely on the fact that no one would listen to their warnings until too late.

Dumbledore was waiting for him, and they set off down the dark and deserted street of Hogsmeade, Harry cloaked by the invisibility cloak. As he suspected, Madam Rosmerta was evicting a wizard from her pub just as they were passing by.

"Oh, hello, Albus… You're out late…"

Behind Dumbledore, Harry lifted the hood of his Cloak, nodding meaningfully at her glazed eyes before hiding again. He saw the spark of knowledge take root and smiled sadistically at Dumbledore's revealed back. The message had been sent to Voldemort; his death tonight was assured.

Harry shivered with the feelof Voldemort's magic in the stones of the cave, even as he asked Dumbledore how he knew that this was where the Horcrux was.

He watched almost gleefully as Dumbledore paid the blood sacrifice to enter the inner cave. Crude? Harry thought not. Blood was the most delicate balance to set, and gave away the most weaknesses to the enemy when spilt. The cave would now be tuned to Dumbledore's magic, and tuned to his alone in an attempt to expel it. Surely the old fool knew that much?

They entered the inner cave to see an eerie sight. They were standing on the edge of a great black lake, so vast that Harry could not make out the distant banks, located in a cavern so high that the ceiling, too, was out of sight. A misty greenish light shown far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below. It was the only light in the darkness, a denser darkness than normal. Harry felt the touch of Voldemort's magic everywhere in this cavern; it reminded him of Voldemort's dreamscape, and he watched Dumbledore warily as he followed him around the edge of the lake.

Be careful old man, he taunted in his mind. We aren't in real space anymore, you know that much, right? The power of Salazar Slytherin, and of Apollo from whom he descends: to make light from shadows, and thus illusions so real they take up their own space in the mortal coil. Or perhaps you do not know. Perhaps you this working of pureblood magic fools. Only time will tell, I think. Let me see your weakness, then, if you are foolish enough to show me, I may weaken you for my Draco to kill.

Harry suggested using a Summoning Charm to get the Horcrux, in order to cover up his thoughts as those of a different kind. It did not work, as Harry knew it wouldn't. Voldemort would not have been so foolish as to let a simple Summoning Charm disarm his trap, especially when that trap was now tuned on to Dumbledore.

Harry was surprised by the creature that leapt out at his charm, though. What was it? He hadn't seen it well enough. Was it an Inferi?

Harry grudgingly had to admit that Dumbledore was not a stupid wizard when he found the boat Voldemort had placed next to the shore, for if he ever had to return. As they crossed, he looked over the side, only to see the traces of Inferi all around the boat. So that was an Inferi before. Voldemort did like to use them, so he shouldn't have been surprised.

He realized that Harry Potter would not have been nonplused to see human remains in the lake, so he pretended to be shocked and disgusted.

"I think I saw a hand in the water – a human hand!"

"Yes I'm sure you did," said Dumbledore calmly.

"So that thing that jumped out of the water - ?" Harry waited for Dumbledore to remark on the Inferi, but he never did. Instead, Harry glimpsed an entire body in the water.

"There are bodies in here!"

"Yes," said Dumbledore placidly, "but we do not need to worry about them at the moment."

"At the moment?" Harry repeated, secretly seething. He did not have to worry about them at all. They would not be after him; Dumbledore was who they would attack, was whose magic to which they were now attuned.

"Not while they are merely drifting peacefully below us," said Dumbledore. "There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But, once again, he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."

Harry did not risk saying anything, fighting not to defend his mentor, who did not fear anything to do with the darkness or death, having lived through both. But, if Dumbledore had to think that in order not to fear Voldemort, then let him think such. He would realize, in the end, his mistake.

They reached the middle of the lake, and the basin which held the Horcrux. Harry couldn't hide the fiendish gleam from his eyes as Dumbledore began to drink the potion which hid the Horcrux. He wondered how long it would be before he would have to force Dumbledore to drink the potion… two goblets? Three?

Dumbledore surprised him: tt took four before Harry had to step in.

"I don't want… don't make me… don't like… want to stop…"

"You can't stop, Professor," Harry told him calmly. You can't and you won't. I will make sure you drink it all, and suffer the consequences.

Dumbledore drank.

"No… I don't want to… I don't want to … Let me go…"

"It's alright, Professor," Harry said, watching the man tremble with fiendish glee. "I'm here-" And, later, maybe you'll wish I hadn't been.

"Make it stop; make it stop,"

"Yes… yes, this'll make it stop," Harry lied fluently. It wouldn't; it would only make it worse.

Dumbledore drank.

"No, no, no, no, I can't, don't make me, I don't want to…"

"It's all right, Professor, it's all right!" Harry yelled over Dumbledore's moaning. Of course it was all right. This was what he was supposed to do, just as Draco was supposed to speak the words to kill Dumbledore later.

Dumbledore drank.

"It's all my fault, all my fault. Please, make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please, make it stop and I'll never, never again…"

Tempting, but untrue. "This will make it stop, Professor."

Again, Dumbledore drank.

"Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead…" Dumbledore was sobbing now.

Oh I am. "Here, drink this, drink this; you'll be all right."

Dumbledore fell forward screaming, as Harry maliciously filled the ninth goblet.

"No more, please, no more…" he screamed, but Harry shook his head as if in mockery of sadness.

"We're nearly there, Professor."

Tenth goblet.

Eleventh goblet.

Dumbledore screamed in anguish. "I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop; I want to die!"

What do you think I'm doing old man? I'm working on it! "Drink this, Professor. Drink this…"

Dumbledore drank, and then immediately screamed, "KILL ME!"

GLADLY! Harry wanted to scream back. But killing Dumbledore wasn't his job, wasn't his mission; he only had to finish weakening Dumbledore.

One more goblet, and it was done. Harry caught how he'd been letting his mask slip and immediately fell back into his role of "Harry Potter", trying to make sure Dumbledore was all right. He could feel the Inferi surrounding them and fought against the whim to just let them finish off Dumbledore, but he knew he could not allow that.

He held back his inner magic, even though it hurt not to use it, and fired spell after spell, eventually coming to use Sectumsempra against them, even if it was a dark spell; if Dumbledore was aware enough to recognize the spell, the old man knew he knew it, anyway.

He felt the Inferi overtake him and then scatter as Dumbledore's fire surrounded them. He followed Dumbledore back across the lake after the Headmaster had taken the locket from the depths of the basin. He helped the old man out of the cave, opened the archway again with his own blood, and assured him that he could apparate them both back to Hogsmeade.

"I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger. "I am with you."

Harry wished he could tell Dumbledore how wrong he was, that he should be worried, but that was not for him to tell… not yet. But, soon, it would be time.

The castle was as he thought it would be when they returned: utter chaos just waiting to explode. He could feel the clouds gathering around them as he and Dumbledore alighted on the Tower ramparts. All was going according to plan, and he grinned sadistically at Dumbledore through his invisibility cloak. Draco should be arriving soon. Then they would watch Dumbledore die together, just as they had promised.

Dumbledore ordered for him to go and get Snape, an order Harry questioned immediately. He did not want to go and get Snape, he wanted to be here for when Draco arrived as he promised he would!

But, he moved towards the door anyway, only to be thrown back by an Expelliarmus and held in place by a Freezing Charm when it opened in front of him. He glared at Dumbledore invisibly. It was his Freezing Charm holding him in place!

"Good evening, Draco."

Bloody hell! And Harry couldn't move. He had no way of telling Draco he was there!

Draco stepped forward, almost immediately seeing the two brooms.

Yes, Draco! Harry cheered. I'm here! Know that I'm here! Finish him off!

"Who else is here?"

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

Harry mentally yelled as he watched Draco begin to stall for time by telling Dumbledore about the Death Eaters, watched him become worked up over Dumbledore telling him he could not kill.

It's not true Draco, don't listen to him! You've killed before, and you planned all those would-be killings in order to make him doubt your abilities! I'm here! Kill him!

Yet, still, Draco continued his banter with Dumbledore as yells and thuds sounded from below; still, Draco stalled for time he thought Harry needed to arrive. Harry could only listen as the entire plan, from Draco's end, was revealed, right up to placing the Imperius Curse on Rosmerta. He could only listen as Dumbledore offered Draco safety from Voldemort, and as Draco lied to his face that he was being threatened with death should he fail to kill him. He could still only watch as the other Death Eaters finally reached the top of the Tower and urged Draco to kill Dumbledore. And still Draco stalled; still Draco waited for Harry, as they had promised each other.

Despite his frustration, Harry could not help but feel the pride that filled him at his Draco's actions. Draco was a true Fury of Hades; not a Death Eater, not even a Malfoy, but a Fury of Hades.

Snape appeared in the doorway, and Harry could only watch as he looked at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore pleaded with him.

"Severus… please…"

And Harry watched in dismay as Snape spoke the two words that were, by right, Draco's alone:

"Avada Kedavra!"

The entire court paused at Harry's words, most remembering sadly the events which led up to Dumbledore's death. Others looked at Harry in loathing at his comment that it was Draco's right to kill Dumbledore, and that Snape should not have done so, as if killing Dumbledore was like ordering an ice cream, or something equally as childish.

"Continue, Scylla."

Harry continued.

Dumbledore's magic wore off as his life ebbed away, and he fell backward over the ramparts. But this still gave Snape enough time to grab Draco and guide him back toward the door. Harry knew what his plan was: bring them both back to Voldemort. But he could not allow that to happen. He had to get to Draco, had to protect Draco – even shedding his cover as Harry Potter, if he had to.

He leapt the last ten steps of the spiral staircase that led down into the castle, petrified Fenrir, and passed both McGonagall and Neville. But he still had not found Draco. Snape was moving too fast, he cursed to himself as he ran. Neville had told him he had seen Snape and Draco run past; they had to be here somewhere. He would have to find them soon.

He ran toward a shortcut - Snape and Malfoy would have to be on the grounds by now - and nearly ran into a bunch of bewildered Hufflepuffs, still wearing their pajamas and wiping sleep from their eyes.

"Out of the way!" Harry yelled, knocking two boys aside, heedless of whether he'd hurt them or not. He had to catch up to Draco. He would not allow Draco to be in Voldemort's presence when Voldemort did not yet even know that Draco was no longer a Death Eater.

Harry flew across the entrance hall, and out onto the dark grounds. He gazed around wildly for the traces of Voldemort's Dark Mark, not caring who might see his eyes now. He could modify their memories later, if he needed to. There: three figures racing across the lawn towards the gate, two tinged with the gray threads of Voldemort's magic, and one shining with his own bright blue. The third was lagging behind the other two, as if running because he had to, not because he wanted too.

"CHRYBDIS!" Harry heard his own voice shriek, and the last figure turned as he began sprinting towards them. As he closed in on them, Snape began to fire curses at him. Harry rolled and dodged, his wand forgotten, and in innate magic shimmering around him.

Snape was yelling at Draco to run, but the younger man stood rooted to the spot, watching Scylla close the distance between them. He had nothing to fear from Harry's full power, as Snape did.

Hagrid's hut was burning, the half-giant distracted by the few Death Eaters that had followed Harry out of the castle. Twenty yards apart, Snape and Harry looked at each other, Snape's wand held pointed at Harry's heart in a white-knuckled hand.

"Stand down!" Harry yelled over the sounds of the battle, and a crack of thunder echoed his words.

"No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG, and Harry rolled forward under the curse, his shirt torn and scraped off his back by the force of the explosion. Now, standing only ten yards apart, Harry stood and removed the other tatters of his shirt, the green snake glittering in the flames of Hagrid's burning hut.

"I, Lord Scylla, demand you stand down, Snape!"

Snape stared at Harry, his face a torrent of confusion, rage, and agony.

"What?"

Harry ignored his uttered question, turning to Draco and nodding him closer. Draco ran to him, and Harry drew him closer, unconcerned by Snape's watching eyes.

"Go to my relative's house," he spoke calmly in Draco's ear, despite the adrenaline and magic flowing through him. "It is Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. There will be three muggles in the house. Sun them; petrify them; do whatever you want, but don't kill them - that will set off the wards. Wait there for me. It will be the safest place for you." Harry spared a glance in Snape's direction. "Both of you. I will come and get you once this is all sorted out."

Draco nodded, placing a kiss on the shell of Harry's ear before moving to follow his commands. With one last look in Snape's direction, Harry turned and walked back toward the castle, the coil of the green snake on his back glittering in the light of fire and spell-work.

Harry passed the next few days in a blur, amidst the most lying and pretending he'd ever done in his life. His first priority, when he got a moment alone, was to send a trio of his most trusted Vampires to Surrey to make sure Draco had arrived there safely. Then, he sent Firenze to the Centaurs to tell them it was time to move from the Forbidden Forest. By the end of Dumbledore's funeral, he had received word that all the Centaurs were safely positioned in the woods around Riddle Manor, and that the last of the Vampires had arrived and been successfully transplanted into the grounds of the massive graveyard he had created for their stay.

He assimilated information about what had occurred, and vaguely remembered details of the days leading up to the funeral: Bill and Fleur were still getting married; his conversation with Scrimgeour; Hogwarts might be closed next year because of the war… but, he did remember clearly his last real conversation with Ron and Hermione, his last lie to them.

He had not anticipated Ron and Hermione wanting to come with him to his aunt and uncle's house. He immediately opposed the idea.

"No –"

"You said to us once before," said Hermione quietly, "that there was a time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

Harry remembered that vaguely - another one of his lies, merely meant to pacify them. But, now, he wished that he hadn't said it. It wasn't their choice! He needed them to let him be on his own long enough for him to disappear, and for Lord Scylla to take his place.

"We're with you whatever happens," said Ron. "But mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

Harry could have hugged Ron – but he didn't. Here would be his way out.

"Why?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

Harry pretended to think for a moment. "Yeah, we shouldn't miss that. Here's what we'll do, then. I'll go to my aunt and uncle's; Hermione, you go home, too - until the wedding. After that, we'll head to Godric's Hollow, and then go after the Horcruxes."

Hermione didn't like it, Harry could tell. But Ron said, "Sounds like a plan, I guess, mate."

It was only when he was alone that he let himself smile the smirk he had felt bubbling behind his lips throughout the whole conversation.

The train ride back to King's Cross was an awkward affair, with everyone on edge. Harry wanted to yell at them to just relax. Voldemort wouldn't be attacking the train; that wasn't part of the plan! But he kept his words to himself, as well as the glares, groans, and other sounds or looks that would have given away his true feelings.

All were subdued, with Dumbledore's death hanging over them like a rain cloud. It would be nice if it rained, Harry thought. Thunder and lightning… it would really help my mood.He almost laughed at the thought. Of course it would, thunder and lightning were part of him.

He caught a glimpse of a shadow out of the corner of his eye as the train moved across the land and smiled as he recognized the form of a single Centaur scout. Good of them to make sure nothing interferes with my plans. They always anticipate my wants.

Number Four, Privet Drive, looked as it always had: so very "muggle" and "normal", as Harry apparated into one of the shadows of the street. It was dusk, and the shadows were long along the road. But Harry did not stick to the shadows, as was his habit. No, he walked boldly down the drive in his faded muggle hand-me-downs that he had been given by his aunt and uncle, and turned into the driveway of Number Four.

He did not bother knocking, but flicked his wrist at the door to unlock it and opened it. Once inside, he transfigured the muggle clothing into his preferred wizard robes, and continued through the house.

They were waiting for him in what had been the Dursleys' living room. Draco smiled at him angelically as he entered, while Snape watched him suspiciously. There would be no denying that this was not Harry Potter, as Snape had known him, who entered the room. This was Lord Scylla. Harry had stopped forcing his eyes into their strange and unnatural shape, letting them remain in the bird-like style. The snake tattoo hissed out at the world from the sleeveless robes he wore, and his wand was nowhere to be seen.

One member of the Wizengamot cleared his throat, and Scylla was ordered to stop for now. The first week of the trial was over. During the second week, Scylla would speak of the war he had helped to create.