Author Note: I apologise for the long wait with this chapter, but I have been incredibly busy with school, and this has been the first opportunity in a very long time for me to sit down and write.

I hope the update makes up for the delay, but I do know there's not very much Voldemort/Harry in this. But it's still important for me to write it. So, bear with me, and hopefully the next chapter will be more exciting!

Please forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes in here :)

Drops of Nightshade x

Warning: This chapter contains violence that may be distressing to some people. Read at your own discretion.


Chapter Twenty-Eight

Diagon Alley – Ministry of Magic – Order of the Phoenix Headquarters

1996


The bright flash of spells illuminated the cobbled laneways of Diagon Alley, where a vicious battle was being fought between two forces. Sheltered behind a makeshift barricade of rubble and furniture, stabilised with a complex network of enchantments, the Order of the Phoenix members were lurking.

Their hostages; innocent shoppers who had been going about their daily business, were bound and silenced, sitting in the foyer of Flourish and Blotts under guard.

As the Death Eater forces continued their new assault, the Order members guarding the captives exchanged uneasy glances, hands clenched tightly around their wands. If the opposition came any closer, they could be forced to act upon their threat of executing the hostages.

That did not sit right with any of them.

'What's the purpose of this mission anyway? What are we even accomplishing here?' one of the guards muttered mutinously, eyes darting about as though searching for a potential listener who would report on his words.

His friend, a young woman with hazel eyes, glanced his way and responded out of the corner of her mouth, 'Better keep those sort of thoughts to yourself, Jackson. Our superior is looking our way.'

As she spoke, her opinionated friend quickly snapped to attention, straightening his back and making a show of examining the prisoners. Only the slight trembling of his fingers gave away his apprehension at being singled out by their commander, assigned with carrying out the mission here in Diagon Alley.

Whatever that mission actually was.

'Jackson! Peters!' the man suddenly barked out, causing the two guards to flinch in shock and then stiffen immediately. Had their conversation been heard after all?

'Sir?' they inquired cautiously, not daring to look each other's way.

'I need the two of you to check the southern perimeter; one of our detection spells just went off. Nothing serious, probably just an animal, but I need you two to go and investigate. Take Murphy and Ericson with you as well, just in case,' he commanded.

Relieved at not being in trouble for speaking ill of their orders, the two saluted in military fashion and hurried to obey their superior. They found Murphy and Ericson, two male Order members and then made their way through the wreckage lining the street to the southern perimeter, where another barricade protected their forces from the rear. The rubble blocked the entrance from the Leaky Cauldron, preventing enemy access from that point.

Wands held carefully at the ready, the quartet not taking any chances in a battlefield, they progressed toward the southern barricade. Nothing looked out of place, and with a quick wave of her wand, Peters ascertained that none of the enchantments had been meddled with.

Fanning out, eyes vigilantly observing their surroundings, they cast spells of revealing and detection, searching for the cause of the disturbance.

At last, after nothing came from their investigation, Murphy lowered his wand and called out softly to the others, 'Probably was just a rat. Let's head back and-'

His voice was cut off with a gurgle as a sudden line of red blossomed across the pale skin of his neck, residue Dark magic lingering across the fresh wound. In dazed horror, the remaining three Order members watched as their comrade sunk to his knees, blood pouring freely from the gash.

As his companion's corpse crumpled to the ground, Jackson cried out, 'Peric-!' attempting to cast the Periculum charm that would release red sparks into the sky and warn their forces of a new danger. However before he could finish the spell, a band of Dark magic tightened around his throat and continued squeezing until he could no longer draw breath. Sinking to his knees, Jackson clawed at his neck, succeeding in only injuring his own skin with his frantic nails.

Peters and Ericson had reacted defensively when Murphy had fallen, taking shelter behind towers of rubble as they desperately searched for the source of the Dark magic. As Jackson thrashed upon the ground, Peters pointed her wand as calmly as she could and said clearly, 'Anapneo.'

Immediately her friend drew in a few deep lung-fulls of air, nearly sobbing in relief at being able to breathe. He began to scramble toward the nearest mound of debris, limbs clumsy from his lack of oxygen.

Peters cast a look over to Ericson, who was huddling behind his barrier with no intention of engaging their hidden enemy in a fight. Disgust welling in her, for her cowardly fellow member, Peters cast a quick Protego around the prone Jackson as he weakly crawled to safety.

It was just in time, as an Entrail-Expelling curse smashed into the erected barrier, causing it to shudder and then flicker out of existence.

Eyes wide in surprise at the strength of the curse, and it's concealed wielder, Peters quickly took the opportunity to shout out, 'Periculum!'

Bright red sparks spewed into the sky, signalling that help was needed on the southern perimeter. Unfortunately, it also revealed Peters' location to the enemy, who cast a blasting charm on the tower of rubble shielding her. With a cry of shock, Peters staggered away as her protection turned into an immediate danger, heavy debris raining down, threatening to bury her.

Forced into the open, she spun left and right, attempting to identify the direction that the spells had been coming from.

Meanwhile, Jackson had found sanctuary in the alcove of a shop; bent over and breathing raggedly, he was obviously in no condition to aid Peters in any way. Ericson continued to shiver in fear behind his own shelter. Admittedly, it was the young man's first true battle, but his cowardice was of no use to his comrades.

Peters felt sweat trickle down her neck and she roved her gaze over the rooftops of Diagon Alley, searching for the enemy. They would have had to be incredibly powerful to have broken the charms surrounding their position, without detection. Her own charms had picked up no disturbance.

If only the back up would arrive, then she might just stand a chance and-

Peters knew her life was forfeit the second the cool steel of a knife graced her throat.

'That was rather unkind of you to send up that signal,' a silky voice purred in her ear.

Coarse black hair rubbed against her face, and a distinctly feminine body pressed up against her own.

'Don't play with your prey before you finish them, Bella,' a new voice reprimanded lightly.

The woman, 'Bella', laughed demonically before drawing Peters to her breast and spinning the two of them around. Peters saw two men standing before her now, both dressed in battle robes, their wands held confidently in their hands.

Each were incredibly handsome in their own right, brothers by the look of it.

''Dolphus you never let me have any fun,' Bella mourned, the pout evident in her tone.

'Kill her and be done with it,' the same man from before said, a heavy frown on his face.

Bella sighed in disappointment before whispering in Peters' ear, 'Don't worry sweetheart, I'll make sure to have extra fun with your friends later on, yes?'

Peters trembled with rage and fear, hazel eyes glaring bravely at the two men staring back at her so composedly. The blade ran teasingly across her throat, and Peters involuntarily let forth a strangled whimper.

'Bella,' the other man said this time, his voice sharp and impatient.

Before the sadistic woman could finish what she had started, at long last the Order forces arrived, quickly taking in the scene and aiming their wands at the trio who had her captive.

'Release her now, and drop your wands and other weapons. You are outnumbered,' the man in charge said commandingly.

Bella threw back her head and laughed, the sound of it causing shudders to ripple through the ranks of Order members. The two brothers relocated to her side, watched cautiously by their opponents, whose wands followed their steady movement.

'Why would I do that? We were having fun, weren't we sweetheart?' Bella asked, stroking a hand down the side of Peters' face and leaving a cold trail in its wake. Peters' skin was left crawling at the action.

'Get your hands off me,' Peters snarled, gathering her courage.

Bella seemed startled for a moment at the other woman's audacity before turning her so that Peters was facing her captor at long last.

The Order member took in the thick, wild black hair and the heavy dark eyes that flickered with sadistic amusement.

'The rose has thorns, how could I forget?' Bella murmured, terrifying eyes fixed on Peters' own with cold intensity.

'I will ask you one more time to release her,' the commander snapped, furious at being ignored and laughed at.

'Do what you will,' one of the brothers said calmly, face free of anxiety or fear.

Red in the face, the commander cried out, 'Take them down!'

Abruptly there was a tearing sound, as though a veil was being cast aside, and dozens of Death Eater troops poured forth from their hiding. They had been painstakingly concealed along the sides of the Alley, hidden under complex layers of enchantments, smuggled in with the powerful combined magic of their leaders.

In one organised wave they began attacking the stunned Order members, cutting down swathes of them before the others finally reacted.

Peters found herself looking into the eyes of her captor once more, who was ignoring the battle occurring around them. Bella stroked the skin of Peters' neck with the dagger and said in resignation, 'I would have loved to have had the chance to play with you some more.'

With a disappointed shrug of acceptance, the witch readjusted her knife and made to deliver a quick killing blow to Peters' defenceless neck.

Except as the blade came swiftly down, and Peters closed her eyes, there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere as though something powerful was humming into life.

Bellatrix Lestrange found her knife slicing into empty air.

Death Eaters all around her gaped in bewilderment at the empty battlefield, now absent of their opponents.

The Order had disappeared.


Lord Voldemort had found the wards erected around the Ministry compound impressive, but of no match to the strength of his magic. Drawing on he and Harry's shared magical core, he had not felt the drain as the wards had come tumbling down.

Death Eater forces had rushed in to aid the men and women fighting the insurrectionists inside, and the Dark Lord had calmly approached the battle being fought in the foyer, blasting aside anyone foolish enough to impede his path.

As he had calmly glided into the centre of the battle, silence had fallen at the appearance of the ruler of Britain's magical community. With the simplest wave of a hand he had, had the Order rebels bound and on their knees.

The battle for the Ministry was over.

Awed and frightened, the Order members had stayed where they had been forced, not fighting their bonds or making any attempts to escape.

That was where the Dark Lord found himself now, with a sneer lingering across his lips at the cowed appearance of his enemies. They had put up pathetic resistance to him.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

His own forces were reverential about his power, exchanging awed whispers as they went about their business in clearing the foyer and transporting the wounded Ministry officials to St. Mungo's for treatment.

Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape watched their Lord with respect in their eyes, as well as a healthy dose of concern. Was it normal for one person to have so much raw power?

Unlike his friend Severus, Lucius knew of the core bonding ceremony his Lord had undertaken with the young ex-Courtesan, Harry Potter. He had known the boy had some degree of power, but enough to have amplified the Dark Lord's power to such heights…it was incredible.

'Lucius,' Lord Voldemort called softly, instantly summoning his Inner Circle Death Eater to his side.

'Yes, my Lord?' he asked respectfully.

'I want these rebels transported to Azkaban. Organise to have them tortured for information; any details discovered are to be reported to me immediately'.

The Order members closest to the pair paled dramatically at the mention of Azkaban and torture, horror evident in their eyes. Lucius felt a flicker of scorn for them, to allow their emotions to show so boldly on their faces.

They would not last long at the hands of the Dark Lord's torturers.

'Very well, my Lord, it shall be done.'

With an imperious click of his fingers, the pureblood summoned a house-elf from his Manor to his side in order to have a message quickly transported to the warden of Azkaban.

However, when the creature arrived, it was apparent it would be sending no message.

The small thing was quite dead.

Lucius stared in confusion and anger at the dead creature lying on the floor of the Ministry foyer, grey eyes coolly taking in the cutting hex, which had slit its throat with deadly precision.

'What is the meaning of this, Lucius?' the Dark Lord inquired coldly.

'There is an intruder at the Manor,' he said as steadily as he could. There was no other way the creature could have been slain.

'Harry,' came the whisper, so quiet that only Lucius was able to hear it breathed.

Suddenly there was a powerful hum in the air, and a magic painfully familiar to the Dark Lord soon pervaded his senses.

'Dumbledore,' he snarled, recognising the taste of the magic. The man was long dead, destroyed by his own hand, but this was residue of his power, perhaps a spell that had been lying in wait to be activated.

Before he could do anything to prevent it, the bound Order members disappeared as though they had never been there, their faces alight with victory and relief as they were rescued.

Even in death, the old fool continued to outmanoeuvre him.

Without waiting to see the repercussions of the Order's abrupt exit, the Dark Lord Apparated to Malfoy Manor, noting that the wards around the property had been disabled.

His magic lashing around him in fury, Lord Voldemort arrived in the guest room he had left his lover in.

He found Narcissa Malfoy on the floor beside her son, who was lying there fainted through blood loss, the crimson liquid staining his shirt. The pureblood woman stiffened at her Lord's presence, slowly raising her blue eyes to see burning red drilling holes into her.

The bed lay incriminatingly empty.

'Where is he?' the Dark Lord snarled, rage causing his agitated magic to peel strips of paint off the walls.

'He has been kidnapped,' Narcissa Malfoy stated clearly, her eyes filled with self-hatred and defeat.

'You failed me, Narcissa,' Lord Voldemort murmured dangerously.

The pureblood woman gently stroked her son's cheek, before rising to a standing position. Her dress was stained with Draco's blood.

'I did,' she agreed, even as she stubbornly locked her knees to stop their violent shaking.

'You know the punishment for a failure such as this,' the Dark Lord hissed, almost slipping into Parseltongue.

The proud woman raised her chin and said bravely, 'I will accept any punishment you deem fit, my Lord. I failed you. If you must take my life to right this wrong, then do so.'

Silence reigned between them.

'Very well…I have decided your punishment,' the Dark Lord said at last, crimson eyes watching the beautiful pureblood aristocrat.

Narcissa tilted her head, waiting for the death sentence that was surely to come. What would Lucius do when he discovered her body here? Would he retaliate against their Lord? And what of her son, her Draco? What would become of him without his mother to guide him?

'You shall retrieve Harry Potter.'

Narcissa froze at those words, incredulous blue eyes rising to meet her Lord's.

'Only once he is safely with me once more, will your failure be forgiven Narcissa Malfoy.'

Relief and renewed determination filled the woman at that. She had been given a second chance.

Seeing the purpose and willpower in his follower's eyes, Lord Voldemort felt satisfaction that this woman would stop at nothing to retrieve his lover from the Order's grasp.

'I will not fail you again, my Lord,' Narcissa promised with steely surety.

'See that you do not.'

Apparating from the room, the Dark Lord arrived in his private chambers in the Citadel.

With a shout of complete and utter fury he unleashed his magic that he had been restraining upon the room, feeling his Dark magic channel his ferocious wrath. The walls peeled, glass shattered, wood splintered, fabric tore and the very stones in the foundations rattled at his ire.

The Order had taken his lover, his bond-mate, his future Consort.

They would die for this.

And already, the Dark Lord could feel a slight pain growing in his chest, radiating through his body and causing him discomfort.

The effects of the separation between he and his bonded were just beginning…


Hermione Jane Granger landed awkwardly on hard marble, the Order medallion in her hand beginning to cool down as the spell that she had activated settled down.

Ginny was on the floor next to her, groaning as she gingerly rubbed her stomach, ill at ease from her first Portkey travelling experience.

Hermione noted the other people present with them in the large chamber; some still arriving in flashes of light, and others already starting to move about, finding people and crying with joy as they were reunited with loved ones.

Her quick cinnamon brown eyes scouted the foyer for any sign of the Weasley clan, but they had not yet arrived.

It was all so surreal, sitting here surrounded by so many strange faces, in what looked like the foyer of an opulent manor. The weight of the gold Birther collar around her neck was a reminder of where she had come from, but she was undoubtedly free. The Order had rescued she and her foster sister.

Thinking of family led her to thoughts of Harry, her beloved foster brother whom she had not seen in years. He had sent her an incredible letter a few days before, claiming that the Dark Lord had freed him, and that he was going to free their whole family from servitude as soon as he possibly could.

Hermione had barely believed the words written before her; it was incomprehensible that Lord Voldemort would do such a kindness to one of their caste.

But she had been confident in the knowledge that regardless of whether it was true or not, Harry would be rescued soon. That's what Tonks had told she and Ginny a while ago, when the woman had reminded them to say the code word, 'Sanctuary' when their medallions heated up. That had activated the spell on the coins, which in turn had turned them into Portkeys for she and her foster sister.

Laughter and crying echoed through the foyer as people continued to discover friends and family members for the first time in years. Seeing them reunite caused an ache to form in Hermione's chest. She would give anything to see Harry right now.

'-Potter is yet to awaken…'

Hermione's head snapped around to locate the voice, spotting two men walking together not too far from her. Lurching to her feet, ignoring Ginny's bewilderment, Hermione quickly hurried after the two males who were about to leave the foyer.

'Wait!' she cried, causing the two of them to look over toward her.

One was tall and dark-skinned, his face regal and kindly as he looked down on her. The other was far less pleasant; his features craggy and rough, one eye an electric blue prosthetic that made Hermione feel distinctly uncomfortable.

'Yes?' the intimidating man asked sharply, causing Hermione to flinch at his tone.

Giving a reprimanding glare to his companion, the dark-skinned man smiled at her and asked in a deep, melodious voice, 'What can we do for you, young lady?'

Looking at the two men steadily, Hermione said, 'I heard you mention the name Potter. You wouldn't be referring to Harry Potter would you be?'

It was as though she had said something taboo; the two men stiffened and even the kindly one gave her an assessing once-over, as though she could be a spy in disguise.

'What is Harry Potter to you?' the rougher man all but snarled, fake eye fixed unerringly on the teenager.

'He's my foster brother. We grew up together. If he's here somewhere, could you take me to him? I just want to make sure he's all right,' Hermione pleaded, suddenly desperate to see Harry, to have visible confirmation that he had been rescued.

The harsher man angrily opened his mouth, no doubt to contest her claims, when the other one laid a placating hand on his companion's arm. 'You grew up with the Weasley's?' he asked gently.

'Yes, I did,' Hermione affirmed.

'I don't see-'

'Alastor,' the dark-skinned man said warningly.

With a growl of frustration, muttering something about a 'security disaster,' he pulled out his wand and cast a few spells over Hermione, checking for anything dangerous or potentially harmful on her. When it came up negative, he grunted and said grudgingly to his taller companion, 'She's clean.'

'Then there is no issue with her being allowed to see her foster brother,' the man said with a charming smile in Hermione's direction.

Giving a tentative one in return, Hermione ignored the grumbling from 'Alastor' and followed the more amiable man, leaving the craggy faced male behind, his blue eye fixed on her back.

'My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt,' the man introduced himself, offering another smile over his shoulder at Hermione.

'I am Hermione Granger,' the teenager offered a little shyly, overwhelmed at being here, in this new place with so many different faces.

Shacklebolt took her down a few corridors before he stopped in front of a plain wooden door, opened the knob and ushered her inside. Hermione stepped into the room and her gaze was immediately drawn to the figure lying asleep on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room.

With a soft cry of joy, Hermione rushed to her foster-brother's side, careful not to wake him despite her desire to hug him close. Sitting in the chair placed by the bed, Hermione scooted forward as much as possible and took one of Harry's hands in her own. She frowned slightly at the feeling of the clammy appendage, before gently rubbing it in her own warm ones to encourage life into it.

'What's wrong with him?' she asked worriedly, as Harry remained unresponsive on the bed, only the steady rise and fall of his chest evidence that he was alive.

'We have reason to believe that a Dark spell was cast on him by Voldemort or one of his followers,' Shacklebolt answered gravely. When Hermione blanched in concern for her foster-brother, the dark-skinned man said soothingly, 'We have our finest healers and researchers looking for the counter-spell. Until then, he will sleep.'

They both gazed at the beautiful boy lying prone on the bed, his raven hair fanning about his face. There was a slight discomfort on his face, as though something within him was in pain.

Hermione stroked his hand in her own, feeling helplessness rise up within her.

There was nothing that she could do for her foster-brother except hope that he would awaken.


Unbeknownst to the two people in the room, a certain snake lay shrunken and concealed behind complicated Dark magic, lurking beneath the bed. Nagini had been placed in Harry's pocket by her master, who had instructed her to guard him while he was gone.

She had been unable to prevent the hatchling from being taken, but as long as she was by his side, he would be safe from harm.

It had been close when one of the healers undressed her master's mate in order to search for detection devices, Nagini having had to slither abruptly out of the way and beneath the bed to avoid being uncovered.

But she knew it was going to be worth the discomfit in the end, when her master and his beloved mate were together once more. When the time came, she would gladly bite everyone in this place and kill them for taking her master's treasure.

She just needed to be patient, and lie in wait.


Author note: If you have any questions/queries/concerns about this chapter, please do message me or write a review. You know the drill :)

Sorry for the OC's in this chapter. I don't really like OC's, but there is a distinct lack of characters I can draw from to be in the Order.

As for when the next update will come, I have no idea unfortunately. I will write when I can, but don't be expecting a chapter in less than two weeks. I am super busy :(

Sorry again,

Drops of Nightshade x