Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
A/N: Thanks for your patience evryone. To show my appreciation I published both this and the next chapter in "From the Shadows" Hope you enjoy. MK-ONE
Chapter Twenty-one: 'O Holy Night
A small smirk of recognition graced the edge of Harry's cheek as he watched Fred and George shake their heads in disgust as they hurriedly left the area to avoid being further victimized by his group's intentionally less than harmonic offering of "silent night". Once the twins had vacated the alleyway Harry nodded sending his group and action.
The five vanished their Victorian age garb revealing five sets of gleaming black scale basilisk armor. Harry called the armor a pre-Christmas present, but in actuality it was a tool that would hopefully see them safely through their future endeavors. Another nod of his head sent his four comrades to their designated post. Susan and Luna were to keep watch on the North and South ends of the alley from a rooftop vantage point. Neville and Draco were currently searching the perimeter of the alley for spies and hidden assassins.
If there was one thing Harry knew it was how Bellatrix's mind work. Mad cow that she was, Bellatrix knew her business when it came to subterfuge and murder. Harry was confident that Neville and Draco could safely ferret out hidden death eaters have Bellatrix had undoubtedly placed in strategic points around the alleyway. She would not tip her hand within the confines of the bank lest she face the legendary wrath of the goblins. No one in their right mind or otherwise would dare risk that. Therefore, she would make her play when she exited the confines of the bank.
With anti-apparition wards in place Bellatrix and company would have no choice but to try and flee the confines of the alleyway only they have to get past Harry first. The only wildcard or intangible that his plan could not account for was whether or not Bellatrix would risk resurrecting Voldemort within the confines of the bank prior to her departure.
The plan itself was a simple one, but simple plans were usually the most successful. The goblins would not dishonor themselves nor humiliate their beloved bank by allowing Harry to retrieve Helga Hufflepuff's goblet from Slytherin's vault as this would be a breach of public trust as to their ability to safeguard the wizarding world's assets. They would, however, allow a bit of false advertisement for the right price, thus the published article claiming other previous or potential break-in to their banks' high-security vaults.
Bellatrix, being the loyal death eater that she was, at seeing the article in the Prophet would immediately be alarmed that either Harry and, or the Order of the Phoenix would be actively trying to steal her beloved master's last horcrux. For the right price the goblins graciously offered a one-time exemption to allow customers of questionable repute, (Bellatrix), to scrutinize their vault contents without incurring legal ramifications from past offenses they may have incurred. Though Bellatrix was not the owner of Slytherin's vault she would undoubtedly hold the key as Harry could think of no one that her master would entrust other than Malfoy, but Harry had previously removed Malfoy senior from the equation.
With an appreciative grin, Harry absently noted the arrival of several unconscious Death Eaters at the West end of Diagon Alley. He shifted his gaze knowingly to the East end where another growing pile of ill used Death Eaters were arriving in various states of abuse. Although he was initially reluctant to allow Draco and Neville to pursue their assigned task as a would-be competition between them to see who could gather the most of their enemy in the shortest amount of time; Harry allowed it with the provision that all captives must be relatively unharmed and accounted for. There were to be no deaths or crippling injuries and above all else; no stragglers.
He would neither allow for either to become like him or to chance a safety of their fellows by recklessness.
Just to be sure Harry cast a spell over his eyes giving them 'mage sight'. Though, he had conditioned himself to recognize the aura given off by all magical use, mage sight allowed for him to focus solely on dark activity. The spell, unlike Moody's eye, would allow him to scan for the aura of any dark mages within 100 m radius – even through walls. Neville had just arrived with a proud grin of triumph that abruptly turned to alarm and then panic when Harry dispatched a last hidden Death Eater emerging on the Southern rooftop, precariously poised to strike Luna unawares.
Harry shot him a look of disappointment that had Neville cursing himself silently despite his relief and Luna's continued safety.
Draco had arrived just in time to see Luna's would-be assassin fall and Neville's reaction of both discussed at himself and relief over his bride-to-be's rescue. The lesson was not lost on Draco. He didn't bother to wait for any indication from Harry before he redoubled his efforts and performed a second sweep of his half of the alley.
Harry cocked a questioning eyebrow and Neville's direction, catching the hint; Neville immediately moved into action and performed a second reconnaissance. Though his companions would be relatively safe from any spell fire from within the alley, Harry intended to err on the side of caution in protecting them from spell fire without.
Once he activated the runes, he'd cast in secret, nothing could leave the confines of the alley without his express consent. More importantly, nothing could enter the alleyway without his consent.
He knew early on that he would be unable to coerce his companions into abandoning him, thus placing themselves in mortal peril either from Death Eaters or himself.
They would remain despite any and all risk; therefore, he had taken it upon himself to at least to remove the risk. Once he activated his blood rune ward scheme, the entire alleyway would be unassailable either within or without as long as his heart still beat. Now, he only need make sure that his companions were safely outside his wards once activated.
Though their initial reactions would be that of both anger and hurt he would live happily with the consequences of his actions for the rest of what he intended to be a short existence.
Mere minutes later, Draco and Neville arrived at their perspective captives' vicinities was satisfied looks on their faces. Harry didn't bother to reevaluate the completeness of their test this time knowing that each had taken their previous lesson in humility to heart. With a nod of approval from him, each began apparating their prisoners to ministry holding cells. Being that both were officers of the court, they had the authority to imprison suspects for up to 48 hours for questioning which would provide more than sufficient time in ascertaining the guilt of their captured terrorists.
Harry would be cutting it close, once Draco and Neville imprisoned the last of their captured suspects, between their return and the arrival of Bellatrix and parties unknown from within the bank. He was counting on the goblins adherence to accuracy and diligence in that they would make sure that all concerned parties had vacated the premises of their bank at the stroke of 8 PM sharp.
He would be ready.
Whilst Narcissa and Remus futilely searched for an avenue of escape from the confines of Malfoy mansion, guests at the home of Hermione and Ron Weasley debated over their next move. Both parties were wasting their time as the minute hand inexorably moved toward 8pm.
"There has to be a way?"
"There isn't" Narcissa sighed in regretful certainty.
"He would leave nothing to chance. If he wanted us to remain here safe and impotent than he would make sure that we were exactly that. He's been a step ahead of everyone from the moment he opened those striking green eyes after escaping Azkaban."
Remus slumped down on the couch next to her with a groan of defeat. "I feel useless."
Narcissa chuckled dryly next to him. "Welcome to the 'I live with Harry Potter' club."
Remus grimaced at that. "He wasn't this devious when I was training him?"
"No doubt the product of a life lesson well learned." Narcissa lamented.
Remus nodded his agreement next to her. "So what should we do now?"
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I think we should follow his advice." she said with a mischievous smile.
"What advice is that?" Remus asked, somewhat puzzled.
Narcissa fixed him with a predatory gleam in her eye. "To find something to occupy our time, of course."
Deciding a trip to Diagon Alley was the first order of business, Ginny and a few select others attempted to floo out. Their initial alarm was compounded when they ascertained that not only was the floo down, but that they could not apparate from the premises. They have precious little time to worry over this turn of events when the clock struck 8 PM.
The Crimson light flashed across the walls of Ron and Hermione's home when the blood wards, Harry had set, activated at the stroke of eight. Knowing already it was too late, Ron bolted for the kitchen door finding it resisting all attempts to open, magical or otherwise. The calls from the living room indicating the same told him the story all too clearly; checkmate, Harry had one this chess match for the first and final time.
"Well played, Harry." Ron said under his breath, slumping dejectedly against the closed portal.
Anguished sobs echoed from his living room, sobs he both heard and recognized many times over the years. Ginny had just reached the same conclusion as himself.
Draco and Neville had just apparated the last of their captives away when a small party of black robed figures emerged from the bank doors and the bank unceremoniously extinguished its lights and barred its gates against retreat.
Harry immediately disillusioned himself and activated his rune scheme. He watched with grim satisfaction as the Death Eater party tried and failed to apparate away into the night.
On cue, the soft light of a conjured candle winked into existence and an angelic voice began to sing.
"Oh holy night the stars are brightly shining…" Luna sang out in a clear gentle voice that heartened the soul.
The stunned death eaters stared speechless as another voice across the alley picked up the second verse as Luna's voice faded.
"Long lay the world in sin…" Susan added as her own candle winked into existence granting hope to all those who have to long done without.
"Fall to your knees and hear the Angels voices!" Harry's rich baritone took over at the reprise. He stepped forward letting his disillusionment charm slowly fade giving him the illusion of stepping out of the afterlife into the world of the living. His flowing red cape drifted on a silent breeze as snowflakes danced in the night air.
To say the Death Beaters were surprised was an understatement in the extreme. Two of the vermin tried to bolt into the night, making it only some panic strewn twenty paces before slamming into invisible walls in a hollow gong that sent them sprawling across the pavement. One rose unsteadily to his feet, the other looked past caring.
Before Bellatrix could cackle a mad command, the rest of her squad; some 20 fools in all, raised their wands uncertainly.
Harry showed not the least concern as he continued the final lines of his poignant Christmas ballad.
As the last strains of his voice faded into the night he stepped forward and in a clear and cheerful voice wished them all a Merry Christmas, what's more he seemed to sincerely mean it.
The Death Eaters gaped at him as if he were a strange bug.
"As it is the eve of the Christ child's birth I make you this one time offer: drop your wands and leave with your lives intact and in peace. I would not care to shed blood on Christmas Eve, but I'll do as I must." Harry offered amicably.
Several Death Eaters look ready to take him up on his offer, except of course for their insane leader. It was to her that Harry made his next and final offer.
"All may leave in peace except you Bellatrix, you and I have unfinished business. Hand over the Hufflepuff cup and you may live. If you choose to either fight or flee you will die by my hand this night and I will still have the cup." He promised with grim certainty.
Several of the Death Eaters took hesitant steps away from the center most person that was undoubtedly Bellatrix, who despite the cowl she wore that kept her face hidden from view, began to cackle in that mad way of hers.
"Oh, Potty, you almost had me convinced that you were serious, but clearly you can't count? We are more than enough to make sure this is the last Christmas you will ever see. The cup belongs to the Dark Lord and with it he shall again reign supreme and you will be no more than a comical memory." Bellatrix bantered in a mad singsong tone of voice.
"Let us not mince words," Harry reiterated with more patience than she deserved. "The Dark Lord is within the cup itself, or what little of him remains. You would do better to make of it a chamber pot then to resurrect that semblance of a twisted wreck. But I digress, hand over the cup and with it your petty existence and the rest may go free. Stand and fight, try to flee, or pray if you think any God would take the time to listen? It matters not what you choose, either way I will have the cup, and you Bellatrix. I do not make this offer for your sakes but the sake of the day. What is your answer?"
"Kill him!" Bellatrix screamed.
"Please, Hermione – please?" Ginny begged deperately. Her tear filled eyes pleaded with her sister-in-law.
Hermione shook her head helplessly. "I'm sorry Ginny, I've tried everything I can think of. Maybe if I had the resources and the time to research I could come up with something, but this?"
Fleur came to her sister-in-law's defense. "There's nothing, Ginny. A Blood Ward has to be broken by the witch or wizard that cast it. The only consolation I can offer is that Harry appears to have set it only for specific timeframe. I think the Ward will fall soon."
Ginny shook her head in dismay as she scrubbed at her eyes. She cast her eyes around the room searching for some small hope, but the rest of the gathering was just as perplexed. All in all, nearly two dozen guests had arrived before the blood wards slammed in the place trapping the gathering inside. Despite the prolific array of witches and wizards present, all attempts to escape the warded house had ended in failure.
The only two members of the Weasley family not present were the twins, a fact that both relieved and worried their mother, giving fleeting hope to the rest that the two troublemakers would work their particular brand of magic and free the rest of them.
That hope quickly faded when a fox patronus, (Fred's), arrived with a troubling message. Fred's disembodied voice came out of the fox's mouth with a strange ethereal quality.
"There is some form of invisible shield over the entire alley. We've tried everything and can't get back to our shop. We tried to apparate to you, but couldn't get through. Not sure if you'll get this message or not, but...
There are some 20 or more Death Eaters in the alley,… and Harry's in there with them. We're here with Draco and Neville trying everything we can think of to get to Harry. The two of them are furious, claiming he set them up.
It looks like Harry set a trap for the Death Eaters and he just sprung it.
Merlin, this is gonna be good!"
"Good?" Ginny shrieked in alarm. "He's going to get himself killed!"
"No…" Her father added wearily, slumping into a nearby chair. "He's going to finish the job he started a long time ago."
At seeing their puzzled expressions, Mr. Weasley explained to the gathering what Harry had imparted to the Order some months back. There was no reason to keep his secret now, because Mr. Weasley seriously doubted Harry would be alive to care this time tomorrow.
"Why, why did he deceive us if he knew where the last horcrux was all along?" Bill asked no one in particular.
Ron's head snapped up at that, a strange glazed expression etched his face. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu as he mumbled out, "a diversion".
Hermione startled at that repeating over and over to herself, "a diversion… a diversion".
Ron stared blankly at his wife his own thoughts mirroring hers.
"Something,… There's something, we've talked about this before…?" Ron struggled to remember.
"I know,… me to… There's something right on the edge of my tongue. I… I think, he was here… Something about a diversion?"
Ron nodded his head vigorously; he too was trying vainly to recapture the memory.
Their attempts to recall forgotten memories went unnoticed when a second patronus arrived. This time it was George's trademark cartoonish looking duck.
"Merlin above! You should see this. The Death Eaters attacked Harry. Big mistake! He cut their first volley of hexes out of the air with that sword of his. Holy Shiite!… Wow, this is gonna be over before it even gets started! You should see him,... the man's an artist."George's disembodied voice echoed appreciatively.
People exchanged wide eyed looks with each other at that. Though initially concerned, most took the news well, as judging by George's reaction; Harry was doing what he does best-win.
All accept Ginny, who burst into tears. "It'll be over soon alright," she wailed. "It'll be over for Harry, but that's okay isn't it?" She shrieked at the room accusingly.
"Ginny..." Her father tried to comfort his daughter, despite the vein of truth in her accusation.
Ginny shook her head, interrupting him. "No daddy,… Just no. It's not going to be all right. It's never going to be all right!" She ran from the room sobbing into her hands, leaving behind many shocked in guilty faces in her wake.
Previously…
"Kill him!" Bellatrix screamed.
At her command a score of hexes and curses streaked in Harry's direction. Those that had been previously uncertain now flowed into action. Though they'd never admit it, they feared – the weapon. But, he was still relatively unknown to them, however, Bellatrix wasn't.
The weapon might kill them in a fight, but Bellatrix would certainly kill them for disobeying.
Harry stood rock solid and watching many colored lights of oncoming hexes looking for the world as if he was just waiting for the next trolley.
When the hexes were no more than a breath away Harry's sword flashed into his hand. With a backhanded slash of his sword, he cut those curses from the air that were about to intersect his body, leaving those 'off target' to fly harmlessly past.
"Was it something I said?" he asked in grim humor with feigned surprise.
With a flick of his wrist, he alternated his grip on the sword and slammed the blade into the cobbles. A shockwave arched across the alleyway knocking the Death Eaters from their feet.
"Now then, perhaps I didn't make myself clear?" He asked in a bored fashion. "The cup, Bellatrix,… Or your lives? It's just that simple."
Bellatrix had barely made it to her knees before she shot a killing curse straight towards his heart.
"I see" Harry responded grimly, "Your lives, then."
He pulled his blade from the cobbles and slashed the green light in two with a practiced ease. Distantly he noted Draco and company pounding away at his wards to no effect. There attempt no more than confirm his assumption that the wards would act as expected.
Relieved in that knowledge, he spared them not a second thought and concentrated on the task at hand.
He drew his blade around his torso and brought it back in front of himself in a backhanded slash that sent an enormous cutting spell arcing toward the gaggle of Death Eaters that had just reclaimed their feet.
Half the fools, literally, half of the fools littered the ground. Blood sprayed across the cobbles, screams of pain and shrieks of horror echoed into the night.
Harry was already moving before the first torso hit the ground. He was a blur of motion as he poured his ambient magic into his tendons and muscles forcing them to contract faster than was humanly possible.
A quick flick of the wrist and a wand with its hand still attached splattered across the pave. A backwards stab and legs that would no longer support their owner buckled, sending another dying fool to the pavement, trying vainly to staunch the flow of their life's blood.
He was a whirlwind, a raging Tempest, a Gryffindor lion amongst dogs. Barely a handful of curses streaked harmlessly into the night air, before their owners would never cast another again.
What seemed like hours to them was no more than moments to him.
Bellatrix had barely registered the fall of her last 'would be' support personnel when a razor sharp blade pressed itself against her throat.
"Payback's a bitch, right?" A grim voice hissed at her ear.
The irony of that statement was not lost on her.
"Y-You're going to k-kill me now." She mewled tremulously in a more reasoned voice then she displayed in years.
"No, too easy." Harry rasped in a dry chuckle. "I've got something better in mind for you." He promised darkly.
Bellatrix gulped, barely suppressing her terror. "You'd better kill me now while you've got the chance." She said with more bravado than she felt.
"I don't need to kill you. A mad, sick thing like you will undoubtedly kill yourself once I've destroyed your twisted wreck of a master."
In the blink of an eye, Harry reversed his grip and slammed the pommel of his sword into Bellatrix's temple.
He let her fall in a heap at his feet, doing nothing to ease her fall. The cup that she'd kept hidden fell into the street with a resounding clang.
Donning a pair of gloves, Harry plucked the cup from the street and perused it with a practiced eye. Satisfied, he flicked his finger against the rim, eliciting a sharp "ping".
"Hey yeah, Voldie, how's tricks?" He chortled.
Harry could feel Voldemort's dark presence within the cup seething just beneath the surface. He delighted in the knowledge that the mere sound of his voice had the cup vibrating in certain agitation.
"Got an itch, eh?" He asked seemingly concerned. "Here, let's see if I can help?" With that, Harry proceeded to rap the cup vigorously against the cobbles several times. The cup clanged with each strike, whilst Harry cackled in glee.
When he was finished, he held the cup up to eye level. "You can't say you didn't have that coming."
With a wave of his hand and a quick shrinking charm, he pocketed the goblet and casually strolled away toward the distant ministry building. He passed through the courtyard of Diagon alley, but was distracted by commotion to his immediate left, in the form of the Weasley twins along with Draco and Neville.
He smartly strolled up to the edge of the barrier with a cocky grin on his face elicited by the disgruntled appearance of his two comrades along with the gob smacked twins.
He was still a few feet away from the edge of the barrier when Neville shutout disgustedly, "You cheated us!"
With his smug expression Harry stepped up to the edge of the barrier and asked: "Not that I agree, but what's your point?"
Draco took up the gauntlet. "You trained us to fight at your side not sit on the sidelines."
Harry crossed his arms across his broad chest and returned, "Not so, I trained you to safeguard your world's future, nothing more. You merely assumed otherwise and wrongfully so."
"We could've helped you. We still could help you?" Neville pleaded with him.
Harry's eyes softened slightly, but he replied coolly, "As I stated before, I don't need your help."
Draco rolled his eyes at that. "Well obviously not." He nodded towards the scattered Death Eaters littering the alley square for emphasis.
"What are you going to do with Bellatrix?" Neville asked pensively.
"I?... I intend to do nothing with her. The question is what're you going to do with her, Neville?" Harry offered sincerely.
Neville started at that, not expecting to be in this position again. "I,. ah don't really know, but thank you for trusting me with this."
Harry nodded. "The choice is yours, Neville. You can either become something hated and vilified, and deservedly so, like me? Or you can do the right thing no matter how much you might want to do otherwise. I leave it to you."
Before Neville could even think what he might possibly do with the file woman, Draco blurted out: "You are not hated and vilified. You are wanted and loved by this family, can't you see that?" Draco's eyes pleaded with him.
Harry's stance softened considerably at that, but he returned resolutely; "You are meaning to be kind, and I appreciate it more than you can know. But I am neither wanted, nor will I soon be needed. I have but one task ahead of me, and once finished, so much the better."
Draco and Neville were both stunned speechless at that. The Weasley twins, who had been silent up to now watching exchange, called out to Harry just as he was turning away.
"What are you going to do?" Fred asked anxiously.
Harry paused but did not turn back as he answered, "What I was meant to do." he returned vaguely.
The twins shared a troubled look at that.
"Could you lower this, whatever this is?" George asked pressing his hand against the invisible barrier.
Harry spared him an amused glance. "I could, but won't."
Fred and George shared another disappointed look.
"What about the ward you left over Ron and Hermione's house? That was you, right?" Fred half asked, half assumed.
Harry quirked his head to one side as if in consideration of his question. "I admit to nothing, but suspect any possible issues regarding your outstanding family will be resolved come Christmas morning."
"What about this?" George flicked his finger against the barrier causing it to gong hollowly.
"I believe I already answered that question." Harry snickered, and began to step away.
"What about, Ginny?" George called out desperately, playing his last Trump card.
Harry paused in mid step, staring blankly into the night as the snow fell softly around him. He took so long and remained so still, that the others were beginning to worry. Suddenly, his hands shot out like lightning and snatched a snowflake from the air.
Before the snowflake could melt, he pursed his lips and blew gently across his hand. The others watched in utter amazement as the snowflake slowly solidified into a dazzling crystal. Harry proceeded to pull a silver sickle from his pocket which he closed in his hand and murmured an ancient incantation over. A brilliant light flashed from between his fingers, and when he opened his hand the sickle had been transformed into a gleaming, finely wrought silver necklace.
He pooled the necklace into his other hand alongside the crystal snowflake he'd conjured. Harry closed his hand and murmured again, and when he opened his fist the snowflake was attached to the necklace by a delicate Celtic knot.
He stepped over to the barrier and reached out, his hand breaching the portal without the slightest pause, presenting the necklace.
George reached out with trembling hands and reverently retrieved the offered gift. The four men stared awestruck, none ever having witnessed magic on this scale before.
In later years, George would recall Moody's words when he proclaimed that Harry had only been taught magic designed for war and that he probably couldn't do a simple charm to save his soul.
It was in that moment, that George realized that that he and the rest of the world knew nothing of this man; that he could casually create such intricate beauty.
Harry's words startled them all from their quiet contemplation. "Snowflakes are much like people's lives; each unique in their own way and infinitely delicate and precious." He waved his hand for emphasis across the snow accumulating within the alley. "Yet each is part of a greater whole whether they know it or not."
In those same later years, Fred would agree with his brother and take it one step further. This was a man like no other man.
"Tell her,… Tell her I'm sorry and wish her a Merry Christmas from me."
Before the gob smacked quartet could even think to stall him further, Harry disappeared in a swirl of his crimson cape with nothing but a whirl of snowflakes to mark his passing.
Midnight –
On the first group of midnight from a new 'Weasley style' clock, gifted to Hermione from Mrs. Weasley on her and Ron's first anniversary, a crimson light flashed across the breadth of the house, signaling the demise of the blood wards Harry had placed.
The family had barely even begun to consider checking the wards, before twin pops of apparation signaled the twins' arrival.
The two hurriedly relayed the evening's events, culminating with Harry's foreboding departure.
That was an hour ago.
Before anyone could so much as think of the next possible course, let alone if there was any course of action whatsoever to take; a more focused Ginny came hurrying downstairs to ask again if there was any news.
George, again, gave an abridged version of the night events from their point of view. Once finished, he took his sister's hand and led her over to his side chair. Once seated, George knelt in front of his sister, told her what he'd witnessed and then presented her with the proof: Harry's parting Christmas gift and his profound apology along with it.
The scene itself was one of extreme tenderness, especially so as no one could remember seeing one of the twins display such gentle caring, let alone even think them capable of such. On the surface the twins seemed incapable of anything other than laughter and mayhem, something they both delighted in. Those in the know- knew they were capable of much more. They were perhaps the most passionate of all the Weasley's, and that was saying something.
With tears at the corners of her eyes that were already puffy for many hours of distraught and worry, Ginny haltingly reached out and gentled a finger across the edge of the snowflake pendant.
With a gasp she pulled back her finger as if a victim of static shock. Widened eyes filled with surprise and wonder, as she reached back out and cupped the snowflake gently in her hand.
To say she had a profound reaction would be an understatement. The instant Ginny's flesh contacted with the crystal snowflake; a scene filled her mind's eye, playing out as if she was standing in a pensive watching the memory firsthand. Only she wasn't watching the memory so much as she was experiencing it for the first and perhaps, final time.
A 16-year-old Ginny Weasley was standing in the tunnel to the Gryffindor locker room whilst a freshly showered, half naked Harry Potter struggled to pull on a T-shirt over his damp shoulders. Her eyes drank in his growing muscles and well toned stomach.
A young Harry finally gave up in frustration and asked Ginny's assistance with his shirt. She could feel herself reaching forward to grasp the hem of Harry's shirt. His warm breath tickled her nose. Brown eyes looked up into a vibrant green. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes mesmerized by the contour of his lips scant millimeters away from hers. Closer… Closer… They lean towards each other.
Only, unlike the first time, their lips met. She could feel it, she could actually feel Harry's lips pressing against her own! She thrilled with a thousand sensations exploding like fireworks inside her. His tongue danced across her lips begging, needing entry. She could feel herself surrendering to her desires. The kiss deepened. Their longing grew.
Ginny pulled her hand back from the pennant. Her cheeks were blushing crimson, her breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes glazed and filled with emotion.
"Ginny, Ginny are you all right?" She distantly recognized her mother's voice calling to her. If it were possible, she blushed an even deeper shade of Gryffindor red.
"I'm a-alright" she stammered, her eyes growing wide as she nervously realized she was the current topic of interest.
Her eyes found Hermione's in the room. Hermione had a churlish grin on her face, and an 'oh so' knowing look that both perturbed and warmed Ginny to the core. She mouthed the word "later" to which Hermione nodded subtly in return.
Ginny used extreme care as she clasped the necklace around her throat; silently she knew that she needn't have been gentle because Harry would have undoubtedly charmed the necklace unbreakable. Once secure; she tucked the pendant inside her jumper and patted the area reassuringly, drawing comfort from the, surprisingly warm, feel of it against her own skin.
That done, Ginny moved into command mode in such a fashion that no one had ever remembered her doing so before. She barked out orders assigning search areas for everyone present. She wanted Harry found and wanted him found now. She hadn't included her father initially, but pulled him aside and with pleading eyes begged him to use all the resources at his disposal to aid in the search.
"Please, daddy?" She pleaded softly.
Arthur Weasley smiled down at his not so little girl anymore. He was going to do all he could regardless of if she had asked him or not. The ministry, the British people, and his entire family owed Harry a debt that could never be repaid,… but he intended to try. Strike that, damn it, they would try, and they would succeed.
"Are you sure, honey?" He asked. He didn't need to clarify what he meant, she knew.
Ginny nodded. "I love him. I've always loved him." She answered softly, but with absolute conviction and no little pride, catching the attention of everyone within hearing range.
Arthur Weasley beamed at his youngest child with pride of his own.
"I'm glad" he shared a warm hug with his only daughter and then moved to the floo. He threw in a pinch of floo powder and announced, "The ministry", to his consternation the flames within the fireplace never turned to the telltale green of floo travel. He tried a second time – nothing.
"The ministry!" He announced to the room. "He must be at the ministry."
An hour before…
Harry materialized on a rock in the North Sea, one that he had hoped to never lay eyes on again, but... we rarely get what we hope for.
By the look of things, much of the damage he'd done in his escape had already been repaired and refortified- pity that.
Had he the time, he might've considered razing the damn place to its foundations.
With a sigh of regret, Harry made for a beckoning light near the west gate.
A quite knock and the door popped ajar just wide enough for a hesitant blue eye to scrutinize the intended caller.
Satisfied, the person behind the door hastily bowed his guest into the waiting office beyond.
"Merry Christmas, James" He offered cheerily, extending his hand in anticipation.
Moved by the simple gesture of greeting by one he considered far above his own station, James Marquist gratefully accepted the hand and returned the greeting in kind.
"And to you to, Lord Gryffindor."
No matter what befell him after tonight, he would delight in telling his children that Harry Potter, Lord Gryffindor himself, had wished him personally a Merry Christmas.
Tonight's events wouldn't completely absolve him for the part he'd played in the wrongful imprisoning of said lord, at least not to his way of thinking, but it would ease some of the shame and allow him to look his children in the eye again without a sense of failure nagging at his conscious.
When first approached by 'the weapon' he jumped at the opportunity to make amends. After hearing what he wanted, though initially horrified, he'd not balked.
If Harry Potter wanted five minutes, or five years for that matter, with a Dementor, than James Marquist would do all in his power to see that he got it.
The Lord of Gryffidor could have asked for his soul, and he would have gladly complied if it would square things between them.
James Marquist was not a zealot, but he was an honorable man, or liked to believe himself one. He'd wrong Harry Potter and thereby stained his own sense of honor in the process.
He would make amends in any fashion that Harry Potter asked. Whether it cost him his job or his life; he would make amends.
"Everything is as you requested, milord." He nodded respectfully to his quest. "I've isolated a suitable candidate in observation one- down the hall outside and to the left. You have at least twenty minutes before the guards return from their scheduled break." Marquist informed his quest.
Harry nodded and patted the warden's shoulder gratefully. "Thank you, James. I'm in your debt."
The man goggled at that. "N-Nonsense..." he managed to stammer. "I owe you a debt that I can never repay. You helped me keep my job despite what I did to you and now you give me a chance to return but a small portion of the debt I owe." The man pleaded incredulously.
Harry shook his head. "If this works, I'll owe you a debt I can never repay. So I guess that'll make us even, James." He offered in consolation.
"Then I pray Merlin, it works." James returned sincerely.
"Either way, I'm grateful." Harry smiled and stepped toward the door to the hall outside the Warden's office.
He paused just before opening the door to his date with destiny and asked after the man's family curiously.
"You, er,.. have children, I believe?"
Startled by the man's interest, he readily replied. "Two, milord; a son and a daughter. They delight in stories of your youth." He added appreciatively.
Harry nodded absently. "Children are a blessing." With a deft move, he removed his crimson cloak and proffered it to the warden. He then pulled a dagger from his boot that was marked with the symbol of his house and placed it on the cloak.
"For the boy." He offered. "I pray he will never have need of it."
Before the gapping man could even begin to formulate a word of thanks, Harry cupped his hands together and blew into them, slowly pulling them apart.
James Marquist watched in wide eyed awe as Harry Potter transmuted the very air into a glass sphere.
Harry waved his hand over the sphere and a tiny scene filled the inside of the glass bauble.
A miniature Harry Potter was flying around Hogwarts on a broom, trying valiantly to lose the dragon that was chasing him; it was scene from the first task of the infamous 'Tri-wizard' tournament, his fourth year.
Harry held out the glass sphere and James Marquist watched the scene repeat itself, in awe.
"For the girl..." Harry offered. "an ornament depicting a tale from my youth." He explained the premise.
"Wish them, and your lovely wife a Merry Christmas from me." He asked, then stepped through the door before the stunned man could offer a word of thanks.
For long minutes the Warden of Azkaban stared blankly at the door exiting his office, the gifts to his children clutched reverently to his chest as he prayed, to any with an ear to listen, that Harry Potter would find a way to do what he always does- win.
The moment his hand contacted the door handle he could feel the dread cold seeping into the very pores of his skin.
He raised his occulomency screens to a level that even he could not maintain, his magic would scream from the strain if it had a voice of its own.
Her face in his mind's eye helped him fight down the urge to forget this foolish attempt as a lost cause.
It was already a long shot at best, but what alternative did he have? He was dead anyway. Some would argue better soulless and committed to oblivion than damned for all eternity.
A fool's chance was better than no chance at this point, besides,... it was Christmas- a time of miracles, not that he deserved one.
Steeling his resolve, Harry pushed open the door.
His teeth chattered from the intense cold that wafted over him like a blast of arctic air. Squaring his shoulders, he kicked the door shut and approached the blacked shrouded ghoul that hovered eerily in the middle of the room.
Distantly he heard his mother's screams as she pleaded with Voldemort for mercy, that horrific remnant danced at the edge of his occulomency screens, seeking some crack of entry to debilitate and overwhelm him.
He came to a halt a scant meter or two away. The dementor began drifting toward him, its rotting hands extending to try and clutch hold, intending to drain his very soul for its own perverse pleasure as its breath rattled in anticipation.
His left hand went to the hilt of his blade and he thumbed the blade a scant few centimeters from its sheath.
The warning of his gesture was not lost on the creature as it cowered back sensing its own impending doom should it press further.
"Now that we have an understanding," Harry growled menacingly, "I've brought a trinket for your amusement." With that he drew the Hufflepuff cup from his breast pocket and enlarged it, in one swift motion.
He tossed the cup forward, it landed at what would have been the feet of the dementor, had it actually walked- not glided everywhere.
"Have a taste of that?"" he offered.
The creature glided forward, circling the glimmering cup. Obviously it sensed the soul fragment; as were it an ordinary goblet, the creature most likely wouldn't have paid it any heed whatsoever.
Rotting clawed flesh reached forward and snapped the cup from the tiled floor. The fiend drew the cup toward its shrouded head.
Harry watched with growing hope as the dementor made to suck Voldemort's disembodied soul fragment from the cup.
His rising hopes fell like a lead balloon when at the last instant the dementor recoiled in revulsion and tossed the cup away as if it were poison. The cup clanged across the tiles and came to rest against the far wall.
"Not very palatable, huh? I can't say as I blame you." Harry commented dejectedly in understanding. As foul as these creature were, apparently even they would not deign to assuage their disgusting hunger on the Dark Lord.
Harry summoned the cup back to his hand with a simple gesture, shrunk it and re-pocketed the item.
"Plan B it is." He commented in resignation to himself, fading from the room as he traveled into the night.