Disclaimer: All rights to JK Rowling. I have no affiliation with her or her publishers.
Confrontation
Sirius itched to start hunting horcruxes.
But Sirius needed to find Peter before he could join the horcrux hunt, and Peter remained elusive. Sirius should have expected it; Peter was nothing if not tenacious, and he had learned to hide his scent from Sirius when they were still in Hogwarts.
But there was one way to find him; was it stealing if it had been his in the first place? Were finders really keepers? Well, it didn't matter. Sirius was taking the map regardless. Even if he was rather pleased with where it had ended up.
!
"So we need to find three more horcruxes," Harry surmised, feeling slightly sickened after viewing Professor Slughorn's memory.
"You forget, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "Voldemort likely does not realize that he has turned you into a horcrux as well. He may create a sixth before he is finally dealt with."
"Oh, great," said Harry. "And how are we going to figure out if he has or not?"
"We will do the best we can," said Professor Dumbledore.
"But what can we do to know?" asked Harry.
"Unfortunately," said Professor Dumbledore, "unless we get a windfall of information, we must assume that he has made or will make, a seventh horcrux.
"Could he make one as he is now?" Harry asked.
"I do not know," Professor Dumbledore said. "He may have had the ability while he possessed Quirinus. Now, what are your thoughts on this new information?"
Harry sighed sharply. "Well, seven's more than I'd hoped, less than I'd feared. And it's good to have a number in the first place, even if it may be off by one."
"Indeed," said Professor Dumbledore, "by knowing that there is a finite number, we have gained a significant advantage in our hunt. Given that half, or nearly half, of the horcruxes have been found, we have good reason to hope. Did anything else stand out to you, Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"The ring?" asked Harry.
Professor Dumbledore nodded his head. "I noticed it myself when he first began wearing it in his seventh year. It appeared to be old; an heirloom. I wondered then if he had tracked down some piece of his past."
"But where is it now?" asked Harry. "Did he keep wearing it?"
"He did not," said Professor Dumbledore. "Were we to review my memory of his return to Hogwarts, we would see that it is gone, and indeed, I have not seen it since. Nor is there any hint of a ring matching it's description anywhere that I have enquired."
"So that could be one of them, then," said Harry, "hidden away somewhere."
"Perhaps," said Professor Dumbledore with a nod. "Have you had any thoughts on what else he may have used?"
"Well," said Harry, "I've thought that if he could have found Gryffindor's sword, he'd have liked turning it into a horcrux, like he did with Ravenclaw's diadem. Good thing it was in the hat."
"Hm? No, the hat merely summons the sword, which had been missing for well over a century before you yourself summoned it."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Which is why it is a good thing that you have sensed nothing from it, as Tom has shown a canny ability to acquired items that belonged to the founders."
Harry perked up. "You've found something then?"
"Indeed I have. Two items disappeared, and both disappearances could be linked to Tom before he took on his persona as Voldemort. The first is the locket of Salazar Slytherin. The second is the cup of Helga Hufflepuff."
"Then...then we might just know what all the remaining horcruxes are," said Harry.
"We have good leads," said Professor Dumbledore.
"What would happen, if we destroy his horcruxes before he comes back?" asked Harry.
Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath. "I don't know," he said at last.
"You don't?" asked Harry.
"There is no literature on it," said Professor Dumbledore. "Previously, dark wizards who had created horcruxes have all been killed when they had bodies. I believe that there is a good chance that Voldemort's spirit would move on were we to destroy his horcruxes, but it is also possible that it would remain, having already passed on it's opportunity to move on. Unfortunately, death remains a great mystery."
Harry frowned. It would be nice if they could stop Voldemort before he became a problem again, but apparently there was no way of knowing. Still, no reason not to try to destroy the horcruxes before Voldemort could come back.
"Do we know what he was trying to turn into a horcrux on the night he attacked Godric's Hollow?"
Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "The Unspeakables did find fragments of something they could not identify, made with crystal and gold, but the rebound that destroyed a part of your house also destroyed the item beyond any recognition. That may have been it, but I fear we will never know."
"Oh," said Harry. "So, um, is Mr. Mital coming back this Summer?"
"He will be," said Professor Dumbledore. "He does not remember why, but he is currently doing some research that we hope will prove relevant. Come this Summer, we hope to have a viable plan to destroy the horcrux within the diadem."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I um, still haven't given up hope. But I'm not going to raise them, either."
"I suppose I cannot ask for more," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Now we just need to figure out where, now that we've got an idea of what," said Harry, changing the subject back to the hunt.
"And what thoughts have you had on the matter?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Harry shrugged. "I just keep coming back to places important to Voldemort, and trusted Death Eaters. I think you'll do better at figuring out any places important to Voldemort though. As for the Death Eaters, I guess ones like the Lestranges or Dolohov."
"Alas, their possessions are either in hidden manors or Gringotts vaults."
"You're the Chief Warlock," said Harry. "Can't you get access to their vaults?"
"Not without starting another Goblin War," said Professor Dumbledore.
"So this might end in a bank heist then," said Harry.
Professor Dumbledore peered down at him. "You sound a little too eager for that, Harry."
!
Peter had relished for all of two days in his newfound freedom, following his running away from the Weasley boy.
He had forgotten how much more miserable it was living as a rat without someone taking care of you. He didn't dare transform or leave. Who knew what wards were up these days. They could alert the headmaster or keep him from returning. Meanwhile, he had to stay at the school. One day. One day, Voldemort would return, and when he did, Peter would be useful to him. It was the only way for Peter to survive.
His initial panicked thought had been to just find a place to hole up in in the castle, to just wait until Voldemort returned, scavenging for food. But given time to reflect, he had remembered that access to the castle was only so useful in and of itself. Peter had always been in his element as an information gatherer. And he couldn't do that in some dark corner of the castle.
Sure, it wasn't as though he had been doing a good job of it before hand. It wasn't his fault that the Weasley boy always left him cooped up in the dormitory or the common room though. They never discussed anything important there! Peter knew he was missing something big about Harry, he had cottoned on to that much, but he didn't know what. He was as good as dead if he didn't have anything for Voldemort by the time the Dark Lord returned. Especially not if Snape was loyal.
Peter needed to actually do what he had set out to do, and spy. No more waiting to be in the right place at the right time. No more hiding. It was time to stalk those kids and be there when they actually talked about something important.
But first, he was going to take a break. He deserved a break. Even if it was just a vacation in a mouse hole in the kitchen.
!
Harry stepped back from the pensive, breathing heavily, as he came back to reality.
"This is your second excursion into my memories of my fight with Grindelwald," said Professor Dumbledore. "Have you solved the mystery of how it lasted for so long."
"It..." Harry paused to catch his breath. The battle had been intense. "Nothing could get past his defenses, but...they should have."
"Indeed," said Professor Dumbledore.
"I mean, you could tell that you're the better duelist. You should have been able to get past his defenses."
"And so what do you deduce from that?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"He had some sort of trick. Maybe like, was his cloak charmed to protect him?"
"Oh, nothing so mundane," said Professor Dumbledore.
"But I'm right that he had something," said Harry.
"You are," said Professor Dumbledore.
"So he had something you couldn't get past. And he wasn't strong enough to get past your defenses."
"So how do you believe a stalemate like that could end in a decisive victory for myself?"
"I guess you'd fight till one of you collapsed from exhaustion," said Harry.
"You think so?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"You had Fawkes," said Harry. "His singing gave you energy, but not Grindelwald."
"Indeed," said Professor Dumbledore. "But the fight lasted far too long for Grindelwald to continue unaided. In his case, he was draining the life from his sworn followers as we fought. It was only after they had all perished that Grindelwald collapsed from exhaustion."
"Is that something Voldemort can do?" asked Harry.
"I do not believe so," said Professor Dumbledore. "That was a thing of Gellert's own creation. A secret that he took with him to Nurmengard, where he has no visitors."
!
Given a couple of days to think on it, Harry had realized that no, he really didn't want to break his bones. At least, not as he had been thinking during their first training session with Carmichael. But there were legitimate ways to do what Harry had thought of, and Harry had compromised down to a couple of them.
He still used the healing potion. Strengthening your bones hurt plenty, and Harry had no need to go through the day with micro fractures in them.
It was a simple practice of rolling a metal rod up and down his shins, and practicing kicks and punches against an only lightly padded surface. It smarted, but it was easily tolerable. And with healing potions, he could do it more often. Harry had even gotten Ron and Hermione to do it a couple times, but like with the muscle training, they were not so enthusiastic about it. Harry figured they'd get on board once the results became more obvious.
Harry did wonder sometimes, just what it would feel like to defeat Voldemort by punching his face in.
But any plan that ended with Harry punching Voldemort in the face was probably a stupid plan, which was why Harry was putting more effort into learning, "the language of spells," which Hermione was basically just making up as they went along.
"No proper grammar," Hermione could be heard muttering on more than one occasion. "You would think that would make this easier." She could be seen now and then pouring over books about poetry.
Again, Harry and Ron had been delegated to, this time to compile lexicons of all of the spells that they knew, all the spells that they hadn't bothered learning but were ridiculously easy, all variations on shield spells, all the basic dueling spells and their variations, and all the spells that could conceivably be useful for battle. This was to be the lexicon they would learn from. They were making flash cards in their spare time. A seventh year had charmed the cards to have three sides: one with the spell's purpose, one with the incantation, and one with the wand movements.
Somehow, they were also making time to study Latin and British Sign Language. Hermione was the only one now still studying Old and New Futhark and Ancient Egyptian, as Harry and Ron had gained the basic comprehension that they had been aiming for, which did aid them in finding old and esoteric spells to add to the lexicon; spells that were in books magically sealed from being copied into any language, let alone another. During their study sessions, Hermione now started explaining the language she was creating for her portion of the lessons, which Harry only hoped would make more sense when they had taken the Draught of Many Tongues.
Somehow in the midst of all this, Harry still found time for Quidditch, though he found himself more nervous about it than he could remember being since his first year. Maybe because of the pressure, this game determining whether or not Oliver would leave Hogwarts with the Quidditch Cup to his name. Or maybe it was the multitude of stressors in his life being funneled into the sport.
"You okay there Harry," asked George, checking in on him before the big game.
"Er, yeah," said Harry. "Um, hey, would you tell me if…you don't think I've just won before, because I had the better broom, do you?"
"Say what now?" asked Fred, joining his brother from the other side of the locker room.
"Just saying..."
"What?" asked George. "You beat Malfoy when Malfoy had the better broom. You beat Chang on even brooms."
"That's because Malfoy sucks," said Harry, "and Chang made the mistake of marking me, instead of chasing the snitch herself."
"Harry, you make flying a Firebolt look easy," said Fred.
"You outflew a charmed bludger," said George.
"Mostly," said Fred.
"Mostly," repeated George.
"So you guys think I'm just being stupid?" asked Harry.
"Pretty stupid," said Fred.
"Stupidest bloke, we know," George agreed.
"Gee, thanks," said Harry.
"Places, everyone, places!" shouted Oliver as he stormed into the locker room. "The girls are ready. The game's about to start. Come on!"
"Don't get your nickers in a twist," said Fred, rolling his eyes.
"Come on!" said Oliver urgently. He led Harry out, a hand on his shoulder.
"Remember, Harry," he said. "We need to have scored four times before you catch the snitch if we're going to beat Ravenclaw for the cup. And we'll lose anyway if Hufflepuff is more than a hundred points up when you catch the snitch." Oliver had pointed this out to Harry at least a dozen times before.
"I sure hope you're not planning to let ten goals through," said George.
"Let alone fourteen," said Fred.
"That's the spirit," said Oliver, nodding to himself. He wasn't doing anything for Harry's nerves.
Harry's heart was racing as he took off to the call of his name. This was it. The game that counted for all. Oliver had taken Harry onto the team when Harry was just a first year. Harry wasn't going to let him down.
Oliver and Cedric Diggory flew up to each other and shook hands before Oliver flew to the hoops, and Cedric flew to a position opposite Harry. The chasers took their positions around Madam Hooch, ready for her to put the quaffle into play. Harry made eye contact with his competition. Cedric crossed his eyes back.
Harry stuck his tongue out before he could even think about it. Cedric grinned, and turned back to Madam Hooch, while Harry gave him a mock glare. And then the balls were in the air.
Harry tried to follow the snitch with his eyes, but even with his perfect vision, it managed to get lost within a couple of seconds.
Harry didn't like the idea of playing the points like he had to. It wasn't that he didn't understand the necessity for it, but it went against the usual strategy of search, hunt, catch. Now he had to: A. Block Cedric until they had enough points; and B. Make sure the points were just right before he caught it himself.
The way the points lay, Cedric could catch the snitch at any moment during the game, and Hufflepuff would win the cup, unless Gryffindor already had a 200 point lead.
Harry had been resisting Oliver's advice for the the game, but he saw the sense in it. Mark Cedric while they were still getting the points they needed, and block him if he went for the snitch. Having seen Cho fail with this strategy before, Harry had been reticent, but the twins were right, he was the faster flyer, even on even brooms.
Cedric noticed him after a moment.
"That didn't work so well for Cho, did it?" he called back.
"Well I'm not Cho," Harry shouted back against the wind.
Cedric took up a position high up where he could see the whole pitch. "Hey, if I beat you to the snitch, could I get a ride on that Firebolt of yours?"
"Tell you what," said Harry, "when I beat you to the snitch, I'll give you a ride as a consolation prize."
"A little cocky there, Potter?" asked Cedric.
"My team mates tell me I should be," said Harry. "And they are older and wiser."
The two of them were both a little cocky, but neither of them took their eyes from the pitch.
"Are you including the twins in that?" asked Cedric.
"Hey, they'll surprise you," said Harry.
"Surprise," said Cedric, suddenly focused.
"Huh?" asked Harry.
Cedric shot off.
Harry chased after him. He couldn't see the snitch, was this a feint?
Harry was the faster flyer, and he was gaining on Cedric, who was diving now. Harry still couldn't see the snitch. Part of him was certain this was a feint, but what if it wasn't? If he intercepted Cedric too soon, and Cedric kept his eye on the snitch, Harry would be in no position to try to stop him again. He strained his eyes, trying to see what Cedric was seeing.
The ground was coming up fast now, and Harry was sticking to Cedric like glue. Harry was determined, if this was a feint, he'd follow it through. He had no other choice. He'd just have to be very careful.
They were almost at the point of no return, and Harry still couldn't see the snitch. He only had one option. Putting on as much speed as he could, Harry pulled ahead and swerved in front of Cedric. The other boy pulled up hard.
Sound returned to Harry's ears. Lee Jordan was going crazy in the commentator's box and, for a change, in a way that Professor McGonagall didn't disapprove of.
"It was getting boring, yeah?" asked Cedric.
"We're not even five minutes into the game," said Harry, though he was grinning as he tried to even out his breathing.
"Short attention span," said Cedric.
"This is fun though," said Harry. "Why's this the first time I'm flying against you?"
"You being in the hospital wing your first year, quidditch being canceled the next year. Frankly, it's a miracle we got to this point," said Cedric, starting to fly back up.
"I'll say," said Harry.
"I almost thought I wouldn't get a chance to tell my grand-kids about the time I beat Harry Potter to the snitch."
"Well, you can always try again next year," said Harry.
"I'm going to have to talk to your teammates about giving you a big head," said Cedric. "Doubt we'll get the chance next year though."
"Don't tell me you're going to quit to focus on your NEWTS," said Harry in disgust.
"You'll see," said Cedric slyly.
"If you appoint yourself Chaser next year, you'll never get to tell your grandkids about being beaten twice by Harry Potter," Harry called after him.
"Keep guessing," Cedric called back. He was taking up a search pattern now. Harry wondered if he had spooked the boy, pulling ahead of him like that. Though maybe Cedric hadn't been trying too hard, just for an early game feint.
The score was 30-20 in Hufflepuff's favor. Harry still had to play defense until Gryffindor made two more goals.
"You're not planning to have me assassinated before next year, are you?" Harry shouted after Cedric.
Cedric just waved at him over his back.
"Humph," said Harry.
The scores rose slowly as Harry followed the opposing seeker. Both teams had great chasers, and both teams also had great keepers.
Cheers came from the Gryffindor stands. 30-30.
Harry started trying to keep an eye out for the snitch as he marked Cedric. If he could spot it, and keep it in his vision, he could swoop in after it the next time there was a goal.
Cedric saw it first though.
This was the sort of chase that Harry loved. Two even brooms, and a finishing line that wouldn't stop running away from you. Only this time, Harry couldn't catch it himself.
Harry pulled even with Cedric as he heard the crack of a bat. He didn't know whose beater hit it, but there were only two targets worth aiming for at the moment, and they were right next to each other. Harry listened for the tell-tale sound and rolled over Cedric at the last second. Cedric was no slouch though, and he got out of the way as well without loosing sight of the target.
They were neck and neck, Cedric only just keeping Harry from blocking him completely. Harry kept trying to get ahead of him, to give the snitch a chance to get lost again.
Harry wasn't going to let Oliver down. If Cedric wanted the cup bad enough, he could play again next year.
Harry heard the next bludger too late, and slammed into Cedric as the bludger rammed into his side. Cedric kept the both of them from losing balance by bracing Harry on the shoulder for the second it took to orient themselves. Somehow, neither lost sight of the snitch.
Lee was shouting in the background, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't make out a thing with his focus on the snitch. At least, until he heard Lee make an exclamation that cut through the haze.
"WITH THAT GOAL, BOTH TEAMS ARE IN REACH OF THE CUP!"
Harry narrowed his eyes. This was it.
The snitch arced up, and Harry and Cedric rose after it, spiraling around each other straight up in the air, trying to get the upper hand. The snitch changed directions suddenly, racing for the ground passing over their shoulders, just out of reach.
Harry reacted just a little bit faster.
It was over two seconds later.
Harry let out a startled laugh at the snitch in his hand. He'd done it, the cup was theirs. He felt euphoria well up within him.
Harry looked over at Cedric, who had stopped not far away. The older boy had his head down, but as Harry gazed at him, Cedric picked it up again and made eye contact. Cedric nodded at him, and went to join his team. Harry turned to look for his own.
He needn't have, of course, as they were all flying to him, all looking about the same as Harry felt inside. Harry waved his snitch-clenched hand at them.
Oliver slammed into him exuberantly.
"Oof!"
"Shite," said Oliver, "you okay?"
"I think so," said Harry. "Bludger didn't have it's heart in it."
"Deep breath," Oliver commanded.
Harry took in a deep breath to humor him without a twinge of pain.
Oliver's grin found it's way back to his face and he slung an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"We did it," he said, sounding like he was going to start crying.
"Like we were going to let you down," said Harry.
Oliver really was crying now, and the whole team was there, and somehow they managed a group hug in the air. Below them, bedlam had erupted from the Gryffindor stands.
"I just worked so hard for this," Oliver explained, as he wiped away tears.
"Yeah," said Fred, "and you made us work hard for it too."
Horcruxes. Sirius Black. His lousy childhood. For a change it was all miles away from Harry's thoughts, and he was perfectly in the moment as they landed amidst a sea of cheering red trimmed students. Somehow, holding the Quidditch cup felt like the proudest moment of his life.
It was only back in the locker room that Harry knew there was a problem.
"Merlin's balls, Harry!" Oliver cried out moments after Harry pulled his quidditch robe over his head.
"Harry!" the twins echoed.
"What?" asked Harry.
The three older boys just gesticulated in the general vicinity of Harry's chest. Harry looked down and saw a large bruise blossoming on the side of his chest.
"Oh!" said Harry in surprise. He reached a hand up tentatively to poke at it.
"OW!" he said when that proved to hurt a great deal.
"Ahh!" he cried when he breathed in and it hurt so much more.
"Well, that's the shock wearing off," said Oliver dryly. "What do you say we get our quidditch star to the infirmary?" he asked the twins.
"Guess we better," said Fred, putting his own robe back on.
"Can't go more than one game without going to the hospital wing?" asked George.
"Seems like," Harry said, pushing through the pain, and starting to feel a little light headed.
"Hold still," said Oliver, who came over and helped him back into his quidditch robe for the journey up to the castle. Harry usually wouldn't be comfortable having someone help him get dressed, but he was pretty sure he'd pass out if he tried to lift his arms above his head.
"I hate broken ribs," said Harry through gritted teeth.
"Well stop getting them," said Fred.
"Easier said than done," Harry griped.
"I don't think that's true," said George.
"Okay, I seem to recall someone taking a bludger to the face last practice," said Harry.
"Shutting up, then," said George.
Angelina was in the common area tending to her broom, and it took only one glance for her to realize where they were headed.
"I thought you were fine," she said.
"So did I," said Harry.
"Can't you go more than one game without an injury, Harry?" she asked.
"That's what I said!" said George.
"And who's supposed to have protected him in the first place?" asked Angelina. She shook her head. "You take care of yourself now, Harry. I'm in the running for captain next year, and I definitely intend to have a better record than Wood for infirmary visits."
"You say that like it's my fault," Wood complained.
Angelina just gave him a look.
Madam Pomfrey tutted about when Harry arrived. He hadn't done anything stupid this time though, so she couldn't complain much past her usual comments about quidditch.
"I keep telling them, we need to switch to a lighter material for the bludgers, but do they listen to me? No! What does a nurse know about traumatic injuries? Apparently it's not a proper sport if it doesn't break your bones."
There was a tremendous party in Gryffindor later, and the team were all treated like royalty. Emotions were high, and Harry even saw Percy shedding a few tears as he beheld the Quidditch cup on the mantle.
The entirety of Gryffindor house was walking on clouds for the rest of the week, though none more so than Wood, who had stated that he could die happy now. Even Harry floated about with pride. He and his friends still kept up with their training of course, though some of the intensity had gone out of them.
As the week was rounding to a close, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves in Carmichael's dojo, practicing after the older student had left for his own studies. It was a leg day, and they were still practicing the three basic kicks on some transfigured dummies. It was also a stress day, so Harry's dummy had much less padding than Ron's and Hermione's.
"Would you quit wincing, Hermione?" asked Harry.
"I can't!" Hermione complained. "That sounds like it hurts."
"You've done it before," said Harry. "You know it's not that bad."
"It still sounds like it hurts," Hermione reiterated.
"If I can do it without wincing," said Harry, "then you don't need to wince for me."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I still think you guys should try it more often," said Harry. "I can kick a lot harder than I used to."
"Once a month is fine, I think," said Ron.
The door to the room suddenly burst open, and the three of them spun around, each one going for their wand.
But it was only the twins, standing there panting for breath.
"You guys okay?" asked George.
The trio shared a glance.
"Um, yeah?" said Ron. "You?"
Fred took a deep breath. "Someone dropped us in the corridor. We woke up stuffed in a broom closet. And…"
"Yes?" asked Hermione.
"Our map's gone," said George.
"By map, do you mean the thing you use to know where people are in the castle?" asked Harry.
"Well, yes," said Fred.
This should have been of gravest concern, but the next word out of Ron's mouth was an exclaimed, "Scabbers!"
Sure enough, the balding rat was clutched in Fred's hand, struggling to get away.
"Found him skulking outside the door here," said Fred, handing the rat to his brother.
"Okay, we should be focusing on Sirius Black probably having the means to find Harry anywhere in the school, anytime," said Hermione.
"We don't know it's Black," said Fred, as George chimed in.
"The map's not even activated, we'd just cleared it when we were attacked."
"Yeah, let's not underestimate Black," said Ron, as he checked over the still squirming rat."
"We need to get the professors," said Hermione.
"Well let's not be hasty," said Fred. "Like we said, it's useless now, and Black might not even be the one who took it."
Hermione just glared at the twins.
"Now hold on," said Harry. "This could be a perfect opportunity to set up a trap for Black."
Harry was roundly ignored.
"We're going to the professor's and that's final," said Hermione.
Very suddenly, Fred slumped to the floor. Everyone was drawing their wands again as George accompanied him a moment later.
A stunning hex flashed out, but it splashed harmlessly against Harry's shield. The trio stood their ground as Sirius Black walked through the door.
"It's time to die, rat," said the man with a raspy voice. He looked just like the picture on the wanted poster, only now even skinnier, his clothing more ragged.
There was no further conversation, with that said, the battle was on.
Harry fired first, sending an explosive hex at Black's feet. He had hoped to blast the man back, or at least pepper him with bits of the floor, but with the faintest of movements, Black was shielded from both the concussion and the shrapnel.
And Black stayed on the defensive, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione slung spell after spell at the man. Cutting curses, bone breaking hexes, exploding curses. Harry threw his worst at Black.
Except, there was no question that it was easy for the man. Everyone had warned Harry about Black's skill, but it was another thing to behold it. Skeletal thin, looking half-crazed, he was still light on his feet as he deftly moved about the battle.
Harry needed a new angle, they were all lined up against Black, making it easier for him. Harry ran, trying to skirt the room. Pointing his wand at the floor, he transfigured three large steps, the third nearly two meters high. He'd see if Black could block from straight ahead, and above to the side.
Only as Harry was leaping from the second to the third step, Black slashed his wand out and canceled the transfiguration, overpowering Harry's magic, and Harry fell to the floor. But he rolled, and came up still on the offensive, sending spells at Black's side.
Black decided to change things up after a minute of endless blocking, and he levitated the twins between himself and the trio.
"Really," he rasped out at them in the lull of the battle, "I think we should talk about this."
"Accio twins!" Ron shouted.
The twins must have weighed at least twenty stone together, and Black was definitely the stronger wizard, but perhaps as their brother, Ron had a stronger claim on them, for the two older boys flew right at him. The three went down in a tangle as Harry and Hermione started firing again.
And then it was five of them, as Ron had enervated the twins. For a moment, it looked as though they were about to gain the upper hand, Black's defensive no longer looking so easy, but Black held up a hand and snapped his fingers.
Fred and George both slumped once more to the ground. Standing between them, Ron took just a moment too long to process this, and was suddenly petrified with a faint yellow light, his wand summoned.
After that, Black turned on Harry, and even as he was blocking Hermione's spells, it took him all of five seconds to disarm Harry. Hermione took the opportunity though, as Black was catching Harry's wand, to free Ron, a moment before she lost her own wand.
So there the three of them were, breathing hard, as Sirius Black held them at wand point. A sickening dread snaked through Harry but the dominant emotion was anger.
"The repeating nock out hex," said Black, almost conversationally, presumably of the spell that had nocked out the twins. "It's a good one to know."
"You're here to kill me, then?" Harry finally spoke up, his head held high. He approached the mad man. "Here to kill your godson?"
"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Ron in alarm from the floor.
All Hermione could get out was a breathless, "Harry!"
"Stay back," said Harry still approaching Black. "Only one person needs to die this time."
"One person," said Black, just as out of breath as the rest of them, his wand trained on Harry. "Yes. But not you. I've come to kill someone else."
Harry saw red. And because he was close enough, because he was wandless, Harry pivoted and slammed a round-house kick into the side Black's ribcage, left exposed so that Black could point his wand.
Black's stunning hex flew an inch over Harry's ear. Harry didn't bother bringing his foot back down, instead he shifted, brought his knee back and plunged his heel into Black's sternum.
Black fell onto his back with a cry, the three captured wands flying out of his hand. Harry was pretty sure he'd broken some ribs. He didn't sympathize.
"You don't understand," the man croaked out.
Still wandless, Harry leapt onto the man and grabbed him by the front of his robe. He started punching his godfather in the face with a wordless snarl. Harry didn't care about what he didn't understand. No one got to threaten his friends.
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" he finally shouted at the man, pausing only a moment from his attack to say it.
"YOU TOOK EVERYTHING!"
"DESTROYED EVERYTHING GOOD!"
"FOR WHAT?!"
Black tried to bring his wand to bear, but Harry snatched it away from him and placed it between his teeth for safe keeping while he returned to punching the man in the face. There was blood everywhere, coming from the man's brow, nose, and mouth, as well as from Harry's own fist. It was only when Black seemed to slump insensate that Harry stopped.
"Merlin," Ron croaked, from very close by.
Harry hadn't noticed his friend's approach, and still he took no notice of them. Grasping Black's wand Harry pointed it at the man's throat. A dozen lethal spells flashed through his head. Bombarda. Diffindo. Spells of transfiguration. There were so many ways to kill a man, and all Harry had to do was point and speak.
"Stop, Harry! Please, stop," pleaded Hermione from behind him, her voice strained.
Harry took a deep breath. "He killed them," he said raggedly. "He wanted to kill one of you."
"And you stopped him," said Hermione. "Please. Let's turn him in. They'll make sure he never hurts anyone ever again."
"He killed them!" Harry cried, his emotions all over the place.
"I know," said Hermione. "Please. Please, just be the boy I made friends with, once upon a time. Don't become someone else."
"I'm already someone else," Harry said weakly.
He squeezed the wand so tightly in his fist, it must have been close to snapping. Huffing, he pushed himself off of Black, rolling to the side. He put his face in his hands, doing his best not to sob or scream.
It was Ron who screamed though, waving the hand that had moments before been keeping a death grip on Scabbers, who was now running out the door at a speed Harry would not have believed possible. And Black was not nearly so insensate as Harry had believed, because with a blurring that their eyes could not hope to make sense of, Black was on four large black paws, following after. Harry fired off a stunning hex, but Black's wand was too foreign in his hand, and he missed by near half a meter, and then Black was gone.
And Harry thought that he should be chasing after the man, should be tearing the castle apart to get him back. But his rage had left him, and without it, it was as though he had nothing left with which to fight.
"What the fuck?" he asked the universe. The universe declined an answer.
The rage was gone, but...but Black was a threat regardless.
"Grab the wands," he told his friends, and with that, he ran out, chasing, he hoped, in Black's direction.
His friends called after him. Harry hoped they'd stay put, but knew they wouldn't. He knew they'd be cross with him later, but this was finally their chance to stop Black, and Harry wasn't going to let it be bolloxed up just because he had been too angry to just stun Black.
Harry ran heedless, Black's wand clenched in his fist. Sure enough, the footfall's of his friends chased after him. Harry reached the main doors feeling like he could run forever in this chase. He'd have to thank Hermione later. Running through the doors, Harry saw the dog sprinting across the grounds. Harry ran after.
!
Given a fair stretch of land, Padfoot could outrun Wormtail any day of the week, even with his face threatening to cave in, and his ribs protesting. But Wormtail knew of all the passageways in the castle, including a few that nothing bigger than a house elf could get through.
Sirius knew the passageways himself, though he had never been through the one Peter leapt into, but he knew exactly where it let out, and he raced towards that exit. On the edge of the forest, just within the bounds of the castle's wards, Padfoot was still a ways off when he could just make out the form of Wormtail scrambling out and making a dash for the ward line. Padfoot pushed forward. Ahead of him, Wormtail became Peter, and Peter was drawing his wand, ready to disapparate.
Sirius transformed and shouted, "WAIT!" coming out half-growl and half-speech.
And Peter waited, perfectly poised to disappear, he waited. Sirius was within the wards, Peter couldn't attack, even though Sirius was wandless.
"I have the map," Sirius said. "I'll know if you ever return. Run. Hide. Maybe you'll never see me again. Come back, and I won't stop until you're dead."
Peter nodded, and with a sharp crack, he disappeared.
Feeling a chill, Sirius looked up and saw the dementors coming. Without a wand, he'd never be able to apparate away, so he transformed and ran for the Whomping Willow.
!
Harry was starting to feel a chill. It should have been a good warning, given how much he was exerting himself. But Harry was too focused on his target.
Black had transformed briefly back into a man, perhaps to disapparate once clear of the wards, but now he was that dog again, that very familiar dog. Harry would make sense of that later. Black was running off to one side of the castle, which drastically cut the amount of distance Harry would have to cover if he wanted to intercept the man.
Harry finally saw that the dog was running for the Whomping Willow, which, Harry couldn't fathom the why of. They had learned about the tree in Herbology; it was incredibly violent. But Black ran at it full sprint, neatly dodging its branches to hit a knot on the trunk with a paw, and the tree froze. Harry should have realized; the man was unhinged, but clearly knew what he was doing. With just a moment's pause, the dog was gone down through a hole in the ground.
"Harry!" Hermione called out after him, and maybe Harry would have thought she just didn't want him chasing after Black anymore, but he could hear the desperation in her voice. Harry turned, and suddenly knew why he was feeling such a chill. A veritable sea of dementors was chasing after them. Hermione and Ron both had their wands at bear, wrapping a patronus fog around them, but it could never be enough.
Harry's first thought was that they should all stand aside, and let the dementors do their job. But then he remembered the dementor that had taken the opportunity to feed off of him at the beginning of the year; the hoard that had swarmed the pitch. These weren't officers of the peace, they weren't there to save anyone, and they couldn't be trusted to leave Harry and his friends alone.
"Come on!" Harry shouted, aiming again for the tunnel. For a change, he wasn't thinking of chasing Black. The narrow entrance might just slow the abominations down.
Harry let his friends catch up with him as they all ran, and felt immediate relief as he was enveloped by the silver fog. They acted in concert, helping each other into the hole in the ground as they pushed forward.
"This was a bad idea," said Hermione as they went along. The dementors were following them, though they were thankfully bottlenecked now.
"Happy thoughts," Harry reminded her.
They were keeping ahead of the dementors, but they all knew that the situation wasn't sustainable. They rushed through the tunnel, Ron and Hermione's patronus charms being slowly worn off by the dementors' ever present aura.
Harry lit his wand as the patronus glow became too weak to see by. He thought about casting his own patronus, but worried that it would be a waste of energy for him.
Finally, his wand light revealed a ladder leading up to a trap door.
"Go on!" Harry urged Hermione forward, lighting the way for her. She went up in a flash, and then, before Harry could encourage Ron to go up, Hermione had her wand on him, and she levitated him up, as Ron covered them from below. Once his feet were on solid ground again, Harry and Hermione both levitated Ron in, while Ron continued to maintain a patronus.
"Coloportus!" Hermione shouted at the trap door, and it slammed shut before the approaching dementors.
"That won't hold for too long," a voice croaked out.
They all spun around to see Sirius Black standing against the far wall, his hands up in a placating position.
"I'd tell you to get out of here, but we're a little bit surrounded. Sorry about that; they may be after me, but they've been starved too long." He locked eyes with Harry. "You can feel it, can't you? You're not safe."
Harry nodded, stone faced.
"I can get us out of here," said Black. "All of us. I just need my wand."
"So you can murder one of us?" asked Ron. "Not bloody likely."
"I'm not here to kill any of you," said Black.
"You could have fooled us," said Harry.
"I came here to protect you!" cried Black.
"I don't care why you came," said Harry. "I don't care what crazy delusions the dementors put in your head. You're the crazy bastard who took my parents away, and you're not getting a wand."
"That is my fault, Harry, but not the way you think."
"You lost the right to call me by my given name years ago," said Harry. The rage was still gone. The bitterness was not. "Stupefy!" Black fell to the ground.
"Hermione," said Harry. "What can we do?"
"I don't know," she whispered.
Ron's patronus light flickered for a moment, and then finally died. Ron slumped, followed shortly by Harry.
"Expecto Patronum," Hermione called out, summoning a weak patronus. She kneeled down next to where Harry had fallen on all fours.
"I'm sorry," he told her. "This is my fault. I didn't stop him."
"I'm just glad you didn't kill him," said Hermione.
"How long can you hold that?" Harry asked of Hermione's patronus.
"It's fading," said Hermione.
Harry was starting to put some serious thought into waking Black and giving him his wand back. It was looking like they were coming down to a choice between trusting Black, or trusting the abominations outside.
Something was pressed into Harry's hand. It was Harry's wand, Hermione had brought it with her. "You can do this," she told him.
She still believed in him.
And then her patronus died. Black started moaning across the room even in his stunned state.
"Merlin!" said Ron, almost beseechingly.
Harry could feel that familiar dread, closing in, only bearable for the small distance between the dementors and them. A distance that the dementors would soon cross.
Harry looked over, and saw that Black would clearly be useless, even if Harry woke him up. He had waited too long to decide to try to trust him. Now, everyone was counting on Harry, and he couldn't let them down.
Hermione believed in him. So did Professor Dumbledore, and so did Ron. Harry had realized that he would need to accept that if he ever wanted to stand against a dementor, but it was hard to believe. To believe that he wasn't tainted by the horcrux within him; that he was a person who wouldn't kill Sirius Black; he was a person that would storm the Chamber of Secrets; he was a person who had best friends like Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
He needed a memory.
"Is this seat taken?"
That was the start of it. And Harry wouldn't trade that for anything.
"Expecto Patronum!"
For the first time, Harry could feel the magic, the power, course through him and into his wand. For a moment, he was blinded by the light, but when his vision cleared there was no mist, no vague silvery shape. Hovering before him was a magnificent creature. Before him was Fawkes in all silver, as majestic as the real thing. The only thing missing was the phoenix song, but if Harry closed his eyes, he could swear he heard a whisper of it streaming from his wand.
The dementor's aura was completely gone now, had been from the moment the light had been summoned. For the first time since the year's beginning, Harry could remember what it was like to be completely free of them.
"Stupefy! Stupefy!"
Harry turned sharply. Black had Ron's wand, and Harry's friends lay on the ground, now victims of the stunning hex rather than the dementor's aura. Black had Ron's wand pointed at Harry.
"Let's keep our distance this time," he said to Harry. Somehow, even through his bloody and broken face, he looked at Fawkes with something that looked like hope. "You can blame the wand," said Black, presumably of the failed stunning spell. "It's not easy using someone else's."
"Please," said Harry. "Please don't hurt them. If any part of you remembers being family, please."
"I've done what I came here to do," said Black, "or near enough. I won't hurt you, or your friends."
Common sense said that Black was a dirty rotten liar, but Harry didn't think he would be doing his friends any favors by calling him one.
"Go check the windows," said Black. "See if there are any dementors still about."
Still maintaining the patronus, Harry walked towards the nearest window and looked out. It looked to be all clear.
"There's still a few stragglers," he said. He pointed across the room. "I see one through there too."
"Expelliarmus!"
The wand was plucked from Harry's hand and flew across the room to Black and Fawkes winked out of existence.
"You have the same tell as your father, actually," he said. "Spooky, actually. Nice try though, I might have believed it otherwise. Accio Wands."
The two remaining wands, Hermione's and Black's, flew across the room into Black's awaiting hand. He picked his own out before putting the other three onto a nearby shelf.
"What were you even doing all this year?" asked Harry, somewhat bitterly. "You had plenty of chances to come after me or my friends as that dog."
"Like I said," said Black. "I didn't come here for you or your friends. I was looking for an old friend of my own, actually." He sighed and took a deep breath.
"I don't think you're going to have a happy reunion with Professor Lupin," said Harry.
"Good thing I've been avoiding him, then," said Black.
They stared at each other for a moment in silence.
"You'll understand one day," said Black. "I hope. And I really do hope. Thank you for that...Mr. Potter. Perhaps I have lost the right. But I've forsworn no oaths, so I hope you'll forgive me for not beginning now. Stay safe."
With that, he cast his wand at the ceiling, silently launching what seemed a powerful spell that shook the whole building. He disappeared.
It was only moments later, as Harry was waking his friends, that Professor Dumbledore appeared in a flash of fire with Fawkes hovering above him. Fawkes looked to be close to a burning day, perching quickly on Professor Dumbledore's shoulder.
"You're too late," said Harry as he helped Hermione to her feet. "Black's just left."
"Are you hurt?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Just my pride," Harry muttered. "Whatever brand of crazy he is, it's not the one where he wants to kill me."
"Are you certain?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Well, he had me at his mercy, we talked for a minute, and he left. If he wants me dead, then he's going about it the wrong way."
"When did this happen?" asked Ron.
"He snagged your wand after you passed out and I got rid of the dementors," said Harry. "He stunned you guys and took my wand."
To Professor Dumbledore he said, "I suppose you noticed the flood of dementors."
"In fact, I noticed the wards on this building collapsing," said Professor Dumbledore. "What happened here?"
"I'm pretty sure I don't actually know," said Harry, feeling tired. "Only you should have told me his animagus form, because your wards didn't stop him from using it."
"I see," said Professor Dumbledore, looking troubled. "Let us adjourn to my office. I believe we will need to consult with our Defense Professor on this subject."
Perhaps Fawkes was too weak to take them all by flame, but they wound up portkeying to Professor Dumbledore's office, where the Professor sent for Professor Lupin via floo. Fawkes perched upon his stand, and promptly burst into flames, which were soon contrasted by the green flames of Professor Lupin's entrance
"You were wrong about the wards," Harry said to Professor Lupin as his friends stared transfixed by the sight of the immolating bird.
"Sorry?" asked Professor Lupin, who still had no idea what was going on.
"Black's been running around as a big black dog since winter at least."
Professor Lupin blanched. "Impossible," he said.
"He's the…woodland creature…who stole my journal."
"Perhaps this will be simpler," said Professor Dumbledore, "if we simply tell the story from the top."
"Just saying," said Harry. "You were all so sure he wanted to kill me. He's had ample opportunity."
"We were practicing defense in a spare classroom," said Hermione, perhaps just wanting to get things on track.
"The twins came in," said Ron. "Black had attacked them in the hall."
Harry wandered over to Fawkes's perch as, together, they told the story. The only interjection was Professor Lupin, when they discussed the map. It was no wonder that Black had been able to so quickly use it when the twins had been so sure he couldn't.
"Then Harry here kicked his arse," said Ron.
"It's my fault he got away," said Harry, if only to change the subject from his complete loss of control, as he gently pet Fawkes's bald head. He suddenly became aware of the blood drying on his hands. "I thought he was unconscious, but he wasn't. He transformed and ran out of there." He should have listened to Hermione. There was a line between self-defense and wrath, and he had crossed it. Looking back, he didn't like it one bit.
Harry told most of the rest. How the dementors had come, and how Harry had been certain that they wouldn't be safe from them. Professor Dumbledore did not seem to think this was an incorrect assumption. Hermione took up at the end to gush over Harry's patronus, though she had seen it only briefly before Black had stunned her. But Harry was the only one who could relate the last moments of the confrontation with Black.
"He had you at his mercy?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Completely," Harry admitted.
"Perhaps he truly is repentant," said Remus.
"Well he's talking like he's innocent," Harry rebutted.
"It still begs the question of what he was doing here," said Professor Dumbledore.
Ron actually raised his hand. "I'm pretty sure he's just crazy," he said when everyone looked at him.
"It is a distinct possibility," said Professor Dumbledore. "Indeed, his behavior is certainly erratic, to a point. But that does not mean that there is no method to the madness. He may well have a motive we cannot yet fathom."
"I still want to know how he was transforming on the grounds," said Harry.
All eyes turned to Professor Lupin, who turned pensive.
"It's generally easy to assume that Sirius performed some impressive feat of magic, as he has quite a few to his name. I don't know that he could get around the wards though, not without alerting Professor Dumbledore. No, Sirius had a number of criminal contacts from his work during the war. It's possible he paid someone to pay some people in Egypt to say they saw him there, knowing that Professor Dumbledore has always made learning the Animagus spell possible at Hogwarts. He would only have needed to be sure to be here when the wards were relaxed."
"A simpler explanation is that the sighting was a simple mistake," said Professor Dumbledore. "Egyptian citizens were told to be on the lookout, and false sightings are common enough."
Harry was getting a headache. This whole evening was a farce.
"Anyway," said Harry. "Can we get rid of the dementors now, since they're dangerous and useless?"
"They will be gone by morning," said Professor Dumbledore simply.
"Good," said Harry. "Then is there anything else to discuss? Because I'm making an early night of it."
"Were the Gryffindor passwords written in your journal?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Harry paused. He'd forgotten about that. "But he still couldn't have read them," he said. "Unless you think he's so powerful, he got past your protections."
"There is one other way to get past them," said Professor Dumbledore.
"You think he's planning to kill Voldemort?" asked Harry.
"It is a possibility," said Professor Dumbledore.
"You can do that?" asked Professor Lupin. "Guard a book based on the intent of the reader?"
"The desire," corrected Professor Dumbledore.
"I've said it before," said Professor Lupin. "I don't know that Sirius had any love for Voldemort. It's entirely possible he wants Voldemort dead. Would he even know that Voldemort is still alive though?"
"He would if he over heard us talking about killing Voldemort," said Ron. "You know, when he was running around as a stray dog."
"But it's not just the wanting Voldemort dead," said Harry, a little angry. "You need more than that. What? You think Black and I want the same thing? The same way?"
"We still don't know that he read it," said Hermione. "It's like Harry said at the time. He and Neville both wrote the passwords down. They were hardly the only ones."
"Perhaps time will tell, one way or another," mused Professor Dumbledore. "You may go. We will talk more later, Harry."
"Later then," said Harry, not particularly caring that he was being at least a little rude.
He was done for the night. Tonight should have answered at least some of the myriad of questions Harry had. Instead he had more. Harry was beginning to hope he never saw Black again, if only to keep his sanity intact.
Harry walked alone down the spiral staircase, making his way back to the tower. He just wanted sweet unconsciousness to claim him, and be done with this day, though it occurred to him that someone probably still needed to go check on the twins.
"You there, boy!"
Harry looked up from his feet. Frankly, he wasn't sure how he had missed hearing her approach. Professor Trelawney was clambering down the hall with a large bag of, if Harry had to guess, crystal balls.
"Hold this," said Professor Trelawney, thrusting the bag in Harry's direction, seeming to not notice the blood.
Cursing his timing, Harry stepped forward and accepted the heavy sack.
"Of all the ways to package crystal balls," said Professor Trelawney. "I'm sure I'm going to break half of them by the time I get up to my rooms. Hold it open now."
Harry sighed and did as he was told. How had he ended up Trelawney's errand boy?
Reaching into the bag, Trelawney pulled out a few of the globes, which she secured delicately in her arms.
"There now, that's not too heavy for you, is it? Come and help me bring these to my tower. That's a good lad."
"Sure thing, Professor," said Harry dully.
The bag was heavy, though it was mostly just awkward to cary. Harry could see why the professor hadn't wanted to cary them all herself.
"Why don't we just levitate these?" asked Harry.
"Are you mad?" asked Professor Trelawney. "Levitate these precise instruments? Contaminate them with our magic?"
"Wouldn't want that," Harry muttered to himself. "How about if we levitate the bag?" he asked more loudly.
"Oh, youth these days. Levitate the bag. You know, magic doesn't solve everything, dear."
Harry sighed and followed her through the castle. He'd never been to her classroom before, so he supposed at least he'd get to see where Ron spent his divination classes.
It was nearly a half-hour trek through the castle when they reached the divination tower, and the ladder that led up into a trap door in the ceiling.
"How are we supposed to get these up there?" asked Harry.
"Here, hold the bag open again," said Professor Trelawney.
Harry followed her directions, and soon found himself in the custody of all of the globes again.
"Now, I'll go up first, and you can hand them up to me, how does that sound?"
Harry shrugged, and they did just that. Only as the bag was passed from him to the Professor, the other woman went very still, seeming to stare straight through Harry.
"It will happen tonight. The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, the servant has broken free, and will set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more powerful than ever he was. Tonight...the servant...will set out...to rejoin...his master..."
With that, she gasped and let go of the sack, which she had a death grip on only moments before. Harry had to dodge to the side of the ladder, just barley catching the bag before it could hit the ground.
"Oh, that was a nice catch," said Professor Trelawney, herself again.
The words of the prophecy sank in, and Harry's fingers went slack, letting the bag of crystal balls fall to the ground.
"I'd hoped to have more time."
A/N: Hey, I'm getting better at this whole 'updating' thing. Maybe I'll have the next chapter out in a reasonable amount of time.
Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this latest installment. My beta The Lord of Chaos just updated his fic Blood, an interesting Severitus fic, which you may want to check out. Also, you may want to check out his Avengers/Big Hero 6 x-over Avenged, a really good read.