Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Big thanks to my beta Tristifico. I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait. You should be able to figure out if there's a sequel or not by the end of this chapter.
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Friend or Foe
Chapter 28: Curse of the Past
It was strange that Harry felt almost nothing when he heard that Voldemort now wanted him dead. There was nothing but numbness, not unlike the emptiness he forced himself to feel during a raid. The only visible sign of him being affected was the slight trembling of his body, and even then that could only be seen with close observation. Within himself, though, his suppressed emotions were threatening to break through the brittle wall that was holding them back. It had already been close to crumbling –yet again- after the incident with Bellatrix where Harry had lost control and almost killed the witch with a Cruciatus Curse. And now, after hearing the news concerning Voldemort, Harry's raging emotions were soon becoming too much for the fragile wall to handle.
Still, Harry chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut briefly and he let his Gryffindor instinct take over. It helped him to focus only on the situation at hand and nothing else.
He turned to the huge serpent that had been watching him intently. Her reptilian façade, as usual, gave away nothing, but her bright eyes betrayed concern. /Tell me, Nagini, that… traitor, is he still alive?/
/He collapsed once Master was finished with him. He's still breathing, but that's probably all he could do./
Harry shivered. Could Snape have been driven insane by the torture? No, the mere thought of it was wrong. Once again, he wondered why the Order hadn't done anything, since it had been weeks since Harry had told Draco of Snape's exact location. Why hadn't anyone bothered to even attempt to rescue the Potions Master?
But that matter was a peripheral concern now. Voldemort had tortured what he wanted out from Snape, and even if Snape was sill alive at the moment, it would not be for long; the Dark Lord had no more reason to keep him alive.
Of course, the exact same thing could be said for Harry himself.
/Can I come with you this time, Master Alex?/ asked Nagini as Harry hastily threw a cloak around himself and, fingers hesitating for a second, grabbed his mask as well.
/What?/ He momentarily stopped his rushed actions and turned to the huge serpent.
/I know this place well, I can help you escape./
Harry frowned. /I… thank you for your warning, Nagini, but you can't stay with me. It would be best for you to go back to the Dark Lord now., He wouldn't be happy if he knew you came here in the first place./
Nagini protested at once. /But! You are in danger Master A-/
Harry shook his head firmly. /No, he is your master now. I have no claim over you, especially after I've gotten you in enough trouble as it is./
/But you are my master too, aren't you?/ If her voice had been an expressive one, Nagini would have sounded hurt.
/You can't serve two masters who are on opposite sides,/ said Harry softly. /You understand what I mean, don't you?/
/You are my first master,/ Nagini insisted, her tone utterly serious, /and so my only rightful master./
Harry was speechless. He was stunned and overwhelmed at the loyalty Nagini was showing him. He had yet another choice to make, then, but thankfully,it was an easy one this time.
/I told you to take care of him fifty years ago, remember?/ he said, /Go back to him. He-he needs someone to be there for him../ He had said similar words before, but why did it feel so different this time? When Nagini still was evidently reluctant, Harry added with a sigh, /Treat this as an order from your master then. Take care of him, and yourself./
At that, Nagini lowered her head in defeat. /Very well, Master Alex./
A sort of painful, regretful grief welled inside Harry as he watched Nagini slither away, and he had to clench his fists to calm down.
Voldemort would be coming for him, soon, and Harry had no wish to stay in his room and wait for his death. He needed to leave the manor right now if he was to escape; there was no time to waste.
But the thought of leaving Snape to rot in the dungeon made him pause. He was probably the only one who knew what had happened to the Potions Master and the life-threatening situation his former teacher was in. Snape would surely die if Harry left now, and Harry would then be responsible for the loss of yet another life.
He couldn't leave, not yet. He still had work to do.
Or at least that was what he was persuading himself as he left his room for the last time. Perhaps, even then, in the deepest part of his heart, Harry already knew that Snape was not the primary reason as to why Harry had not listened to his common sense and gotten out of the place immediately. But since he had already lied to himself for so long, why should he acknowledge the truth now?
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"My Lord-"
A wave of Voldemort's wand cut off whatever the Death Eater wanted to say and sent him twitching on the ground, screaming in pain, but Voldemort paid him no mind. He stalked past the Death Eater to his personal chamber. Anger was boiling inside him like never before.
Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.
So it was Potter all along. He had known, from the very beginning, that the boy would be a threat. Seeing it confirmed by the prophecy, had done nothing except to reinforce this feeling.
He now knew beyond a doubt that it had been Potter's plan all along – to hide under the pretense of a loyal servant and wait for the time to strike. When had Potter become so cunning, so manipulative?
Voldemort snarled and jerked his wand ferociously, causing the shelves and the table on one side of his room to explode. Broken wood splinters flew everywhere. Books and parchments scattered over the floor. But all that did nothing to calm his rage.
The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.
Whatever power Potter had didn't matter. He would end this before Potter's supposed 'power' even had a chance to reveal itself.
His eyes flickered to the floor, drawn to the light glowing brightly amongst the debris.
Of course, the necklace. The necklace he hated with a fury.
His anger, barely constrained under a veneer of coldness, flared again at the single light source in the room, glowing strongly and steadily in the dark. Even with his feelings, the protection charm was still as strong as ever, as if it was taunting him.
He summoned the necklace from the ground and held it with a crushing grip, as the entirety of his anger channeled itself towards the innocent-looking necklace . Today, he would destroy his past once and for all, and a mere protection spell could do nothing to stop him.
But as he opened his fist to hiss a curse at it, he realized for the first time that the protection spell was not repulsing him. The necklace was resting on his palm peacefully, with a warm, almost welcoming glow.
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Concealing himself in the shadows, Draco gingerly made his way along the edge of the forest with the fake galleon of the HA biting into his palm. Only Draco and Harry could send a signal through the galleons. Draco knew that signal had definitely not originated from him; in fact, he had almost forgotten about it until he received a message from it five minutes ago. That left only Harry as a possibility, but it didn't seem possible that he would do such a thing so suddenly. Draco had considered ignoring the signal, but instinct cautioned him that something urgent might have happened. It made him uneasy. In the end, he decided to check out the call.
Even though the location of the meeting was not specified in the galleon, Draco could only think of one place where Harry could be - the hidden spot in the forest where they had met twice before, one with Draco confronting Harry and the other with Harry giving him the location of Severus.
He didn't know what he was expecting when he arrived at the meeting spot, but he found himself tense as he saw Harry already standing there, waiting for him. He didn't even bother to ask what had happened, when one look at Harry's face told Draco that something was indeed very wrong.
"There's a meeting later tonight, so I guessed that you might be here," Harry began as soon as he had finished warding the area around them.
Draco nodded. The fake galleons would not have worked if they had been too far apart. "I didn't know you still had it with you."
"I kept it in my money bag. One of the few things that I didn't leave at Hogwarts," said Harry, hint of sadness crept into his voice. "But that's not the point." He turned grave as he met Draco's eyes. "Snape is in danger. The Dark Lord has found out what he wanted from him."
Draco froze. "What? Are you sure?"
Harry nodded grimly.
"But he is still alive, isn't he?" asked Draco, almost fearing the answer.
"According to Nagini, yes."
It took a second before Draco could relate the name Nagini to the Dark Lord's pet snake, and a second more to remember Harry's ability to speak to snakes. "It could be a trap."
Harry shook his head. "She's loyal to me," he said, sounding almost regretful. He looked up at Draco, but his gaze was uncertain. "He's still alive, but the Dark Lord will come back for him any time, or-"
"Give him to some Death Eaters as a toy," Draco finished with a sigh. "I can't let that happen." The words were out of his mouth before he realized what that meant.
"What about the Order? I thought they were coming for him."
Draco let out a light snort. "Dumbledore never intended to save Severus' life. All he cared for was to protect what Severus knew. Not that his precious Order will be of much help, of course. Without the Dark Mark on their arms, the Dementors would attack them right away. Their souls wouldn't last a second in there." He didn't bother keeping the bitterness and anger out of his voice, remembering what Dumbledore had dared to ask of him.
"His cell was warded, you say?"
Draco nodded. "A ward-breaker could break in with some amount of difficulty, but it can be done."
"How about the Dementors?"
"They would attack anyone without a Dark Mark."
Draco didn't like the look of defeat on Dumbledore's face.
"I'm afraid we don't have much choice then."
Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
Dumbledore no longer had that infuriating twinkle in his eyes. "It would be too risky to send a rescue party in at the moment."
"You promised to save him once I've found out where he is!" Draco snapped, half-jumping from his seat, snarling at the man sitting opposite from him in unmasked anger.
He was furious with Dumbledore for abandoning Severus, and he was angry at himself for believing in that old fool for one second. How could he have fallen for this trick?
"Draco," said Dumbledore, sounding very tired, and very weary. "I will not send any Order members on a mission if I know there is no chance for success. You have seen it for yourself that, the security around Severus is too tight for me to attempt any rescue."
"And so you are leaving him there to die, aren't you?Just like what you did to Weasley," said Draco, relieved that his voice came out cold and cutting..
Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, but Draco wasn't fooled by the show of weakness. Then Dumbledore answered. "I do what I must to bring this war to an end," he said. "And as such, Draco, I have one more favor to ask of you." Slowly, deliberately, he pulled out a small vial from his desk drawer.
Draco felt his blood freeze. "How dare you," he whispered, his voice shaking. "How dare you even suggest that?"
Dumbledore bowed his white head. "Severus knew a piece of information that can alter the situation of the whole war. It is a weapon that must not fall into Voldemort's hand."
"What information? What could be that important?"
"It is powerful enough to destroy what may be the only hope for our side to win this war."
Draco leaped to his feet. "You ask that favor," he spat the word, "from me. The most you can do is to give me some answers."
Dumbledore didn't seem affected by Draco's blatant hostility. "I'm just trying to protect you, Draco." Draco sneered at this, but Dumbledore ignored the disrespectful expression. "You know what length Voldemort is willing to go for that piece of information. I made a mistake in letting Severus know about it, but I won't make the same mistake again."
Draco eyed the vial of potion placed on Dumbledore's desk, restraining himself from picking up that bottle and throwing it at Dumbledore's head in sheer frustration. It was a vial that he knew well; after all, it had been personally made by Severus. It was a deadly poison that was made from snake venom; it could kill a grown man within a second.
"You are asking me to kill my own godfather," said Draco, "and this is all you have to say?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I understand how angry you must be at the moment, but all I want is for you to consider this seriously," he said. "Voldemort will torture the information out of Severus until he gets what he wants, is that really the best for Severus? Or-"
"Save that for someone who would actually listen to your juvenile manipulations, Dumbledore," Draco drawled. Not bothering to hear what else Dumbledore had to say, he turned around and left. The bottle of poison was left untouched.
"What do you plan to do then?" Harry's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
Draco hesitated. All he could say about the so-called plan that was forming in his mind was reckless at best, and downright suicidal if he had the courage to be honest with himself. To make it worse, even now, the thought of leaving Severus to death had not crossed his mind even once. He simply could not allow himself to sink as low as Dumbledore, not to mention that he had been brought up in a system that emphasized the paying back of debts. Even Slytherins had it in them to be fiercely loyal to their family and to the very few that they had given their trust – and Severus was both to him.
Still, the whole plan was simply too disgustingly Gryffindorish for Draco to even say it out loud. So instead of answering Harry truthfully, Draco decided to bring up another question that could not be pushed back any longer.
"Are you coming with me?"
Draco expected the worst, but something in Harry's demeanor told him that the other boy might give a different answer this time. And even though he would never admit it, Draco desperately hoped that his instinct would prove right. He was beginning to understand why Gryffindors liked to work in groups whenever they attempted something unusually reckless.
Harry held his gaze for a long while, then a determined look entered the pair of green eyes. His answer was firm.
"I am."
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Voldemort knew what had happened the moment he caught sight of Nagini slithering towards him from the direction he was heading to. Sensing her master's rage, the serpent did not dare to approach further.
/Who is your master, Nagini?/ hissed Voldemort.
/You don't have to ask, Master. I am yours./
Voldemort sneered. With a wave of his wand, he conjured a magical sphere around Nagini, locking her inside.
/You still deny your betrayal?/ he hissed. /When? When did you start listening to the boy's commands?/
Nagini did not answer immediately. The curse embedded inside the conjured cage was causing her unthinkable pain.
/Please, Mas-/
Voldemort intensified the curse he had placed on his snake. /I order you to answer me! When did that boy gain such loyalty from you?/
His patience was wearing thin, and he would have killed her on the spot, when Nagini finally spoke.
/Alex was my first master,/ she admitted with great reluctance, and the statement that her ultimate loyalty was forever with him went unsaid but known. She paused, then caught sight of Voldemort's darkened expression and hastily explained herself. /He bought me the year he met you. By the end of that year, he told me he was going home, to the future. He was so sad that he had to leave, and he was afraid you would feel lonely with him gone, so he ordered me to stay, and to protect you, like I did him./
Voldemort stared, unmoved, at Nagini for a while before hissing in a dangerous whisper, /So you were Potter's spy all along? No doubt you were delighted to see him again last year, to be reunited with your old master!/
Nagini remained silent, confirming the truth of Voldemort's words. He glanced towards the direction of Potter's room. He had no doubt that the boy had already learnt of his coming.
/It was foolish of you to stay behind while Potter ran for his cowardly, miserable life, Nagini,/ he said. /Did you really believe I could be deceived so easily?/
Nagini was very much weakened by the ongoing curse by now. It took a while before she managed an answer.
/Master Alex told me to stay behind. He ordered me to stand by you,/ Nagini sounded defeated. /And be there for you./
Something within Voldemort stirred at those words, but it was no match for his rage. Sparing a cold glance at Nagini, he released the curse he had placed on her, but did not free her for the conjured cage. He would deal with her later. Potter was his priority right now.
Turning away from Nagini, he considered his next move. There was no chance that Potter would still be in his room, but a quick check on the ward around manor also revealed that the boy had not run far.
Even better, then, that it had never been a problem for him to locate Potter. Reaching out with Legilimency, the answer of the boy's whereabouts quickly came to him.
The dungeon. Potter was trying to save Severus?
Instead of angering him further, that new discovery gave Voldemort a feeling of malicious triumph. That was the best proof on the boy's betrayal. He had been right about Potter all along.
A cruel smile slanted across his face as he strode towards the lower grounds of the manor. Potter's foolishness was making this so much easier.
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Even though their Death Eater clothing should have been enough to avoid suspicion, Harry and Draco still traced their route to the dungeon very carefully. They walked in complete and utter silence. None of them had spoken a word since Draco had filled Harry in on his plan.
Harry had been surprised at how well prepared Draco was; apparently, the blonde had been planning a solo 'Operation Snape' for quite some time now. He had been searching for ways to bypass Voldemort's wards around Snape's cell, and to that effect had been teaching himself ward-breaking for weeks on end. Draco seemed convinced that the Order would not offer any help, and after witnessing the way the blonde spat Dumbledore's name, Harry had refrained from pressing further. In a way, he could guess at what had happened.
The plan was simple – Draco would lower the wards around Snape's cell just long enough for a portkey to work and escape using that portkey without anyone noticing. It was easier said than done, of course. The most worrisome thing was that the plan had a critical flaw- one that was huge enough to stop Draco from executing his plan until now. Now, he couldn't afford to wait any longer.
"The Dark Mark," Draco told Harry. "Only those who have it can enter the dungeon, and that means only those in the Dark Lord's inner circle. The moment I get Severus out, the Dark Lord will know there's another spy. I'm Severus' godson, who else would he suspect?"
Harry would have said himself, but he had ultimately decided to keep silent. Draco didn't need to know about what was happening between Harry and Voldemort, and Harry definitely didn't need to add to his anxiety. The blonde would find out soon enough, in any case.
Not for the first time that day, Harry wondered about the sanity of his actions. Without a doubt, Voldemort was aiming to kill him, and yet here Harry was, wasting his time to inform Draco about the danger Snape was in, and also actually helping him in the rescue effort. That had been something he had firmly refused to participate in a month ago.
He knew the window of escape given to him by Nagini had certainly closed by now. Voldemort must have had already found out Harry was not in his room. He would now be hunting him down.
Despite that, Harry simply couldn't find it in himself to care.
Perhaps from the beginning, the thought of fleeing for his life had never crossed his mind. He knew it was useless. He knew that the final facedown with Voldemort was inevitable. And he was so tired of running away.
Harry felt oddly calm as he strode deeper into the dungeon. Screams from the nearby cells echoed in the dark corridors, but a kind of grim determination that had welled up inside him kept him walking on with a blank face and steady steps. For the first time in months, with foggy emotions cleared away, Harry could see the path that fate had laid out before him clearly. There was only one direction, and for some reason, that thought gave Harry a strange relief.
Draco was trailing silently beside him, and his nervousness was palpable. Such an emotion was understandable, naturally, though Harry knew it was unnecessary. However dangerous Draco's situation might be now, Harry's instinct told him that the blonde would not be in any danger today. Voldemort only had one target in mind, and the person was not Draco.
As if taunting Harry for even daring to think that something might turn out right for once, the atmosphere around them suddenly shifted. The temperature dropped drastically, and even the corridors looked darker and more eerie than a second before. Harry and Draco halted in an instant, hearts pounding wildly as they scanned their surroundings for any immediate danger. They raised their wands and edged closer to each other. Then their eyes met, both alert and wary.
"Dementor," Draco mouthed, looking pale.
Harry nodded. There was no sign of the soul-sucking creatures yet, but from the chill in the damp air, both of them could feel that the Dementors, which had been on their side so far, were now targeting them. And there could only be one reason for it.
"He knew," Harry whispered in a hoarse voice.
Voldemort had moved so much faster than he had expected. He had to act quickly, or else Draco would be dragged into unnecessary danger with him.
His resolve firmed, he turned to the blonde beside him. "Run, Draco. They are coming for me," and filled with dread as he was, he managed to keep his voice calm. "Go get Snape and get out of here."
"What? What are you-"
Too late. The Dementors had reached them, pouring in from the direction they had come from.
"Run!" yelled Harry, as he started to run in the opposite direction, grabbing Draco roughly by the arm. The other boy winced, but soon realized the greater danger.
They moved as quickly as they could, trying to outrun the Dementors that were floating towards them from behind like an unstoppable dark mist. They soon realized that it was a lost battle. As their legs gradually tired, the Dementors grew too fast for them. Within minutes, their pursuers had caught up with them, surrounding them in an oppressive mass.
Harry gritted his teeth, struggling against the Dementors' influence. He was dimly aware that Draco had fired off a spell that threw the nearest Dementor backward, but more were advancing towards them.
Doing his best to clear his mind, Harry raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled.
A weak silvery mist shot out from his wand, so weak that it disappeared before even reaching the first Dementor. Harry tried again, attempting to call up happy memories, but to no avail. His mind was a total, complete blank.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Nothing happened. Not even a mist was conjured.
Harry backed into a wall as the Dementors closed in. He could hear Draco's scream nearby, but his mother's screaming was even louder, echoing ruthlessly in his ears.
He needed help.
The Dementors reached out for him. They seemed more intent to capture him than to suck his soul out…
And he only knew one way to call for help.
His hand moved almost instinctively, drawing out a complicated pattern with his wand that he now knew by heart. His wand glowed, but Harry could hardly see it as darkness began to engulf him. Then a familiar sensation rushed through him, telling him that he was successful and filling him with a sudden strength that kept him from losing consciousness.
Attack!
Harry wasn't sure whether he had cried that out loud, but another surge of power from his wand assured him that his 'helpers' had received his command.
Almost immediately, the cold around the place began to disperse. Harry let out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding as the relentless attack of his worst memories against his Occlumency shield finally stopped.
He regained his wits enough to look up and stare, slightly stunned, at the sight before him. At least a dozen of Inferi were holding the Dementors back, preventing them from getting close to Harry or Draco.
But now was not the time to ponder on how the soulless Inferi would fare against the Dementors. Still weak from the Dementors' attack, Harry stumbled over to where Draco was, on the other side of the corridor. The blonde had fallen onto the ground, muscles trembling involuntarily, and he had a haunted look in his grey eyes. Only then did it occur to Harry that Draco had never encountered a Dementor attack. To him, the Dementors had never been on the 'other side' before.
"Come on, Draco." Harry shook his companion lightly, but the blonde gave no indication of hearing him.
The urgency of the situation made Harry push aside his concern for the moment. The Dementors could only be hold back for so long; there was no time to waste at all.
Harry pulled Draco to his feet and slung the blonde's arm around his shoulder, supporting him. With a last look at the defense wall built up by the small army of Inferi, Harry scrambled as far off as he could with Draco, running deeper into the dungeon and escaping as far as they possibly could until they finally reached the iron door that lead to Snape's cell.
They stopped as one, panting heavily. The cold caused by the Dementors had disappeared, but Harry had no way to know if the ghoulish creatures were still chasing after them. Though, it was strange that they were only coming at them from one direction, almost as if they were trying to push Harry and Draco further back into the dungeon. Trapping them there.
Harry stopped his thoughts. Of course, this had to be exactly what Voldemort wanted.
He turned towards Draco, who was slumped against a wall. "Are you all right?"
Draco's normally already pale face was drained of all colour. "I… I saw-" He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When he spoke again, he seemed a little calmer. "We need to get going before they catch up with us, or before the Dark Lord decides to send some Death Eaters in to kill us."
Harry shook his head. "He won't send anyone here," he said with certainty. "The Dementors attacked us, but they were out to capture, not to kill. They didn't stop us from escaping inwards. What they were doing was blocking our way out. The Dark Lord wants to trap us here." He looked at Draco with a grim expression. "And all these is because he's coming here himself."
A hint of unsuppressed fear crossed Draco's eyes. "What? How would you-"
"He's coming here for me."
That shocked Draco into silence. It was a tense moment before he managed to speak again. "Is… is there something I need to know?"
Harry hesitated. This matter was not something he wanted to share with anyone, but Draco deserved some answers.
"That secret that Snape was keeping was a prophecy about me and the Dark Lord," he said, holding back some details. Some things just could not be said. "Because of what the prophecy says, the Dark Lord is now hunting me down. Personally."
Some kind of realization seemed to have dawned on Draco. "So that's why he wanted me to-" he trailed off. He shook his head and stared back at Harry, this time in disbelief. "Then why did you come with me in the first place? You should have fled instead of trapping yourself in where the Dark Lord keeps his -"
Draco, after being quite close to Harry for a year, seemed to have finally caught on. "You never planned to run away, did you?" he asked in a low voice.
"I only realized that the moment I agreed to help you," Harry admitted. He grimaced. "Though I suppose you might have a better success with me drawing the attention away from you, instead of leading him right here." He sighed. "Listen, Draco, you have to use your portkey to get away from here as quickly as you can after you've rescued Snape. The Dark Lord will be here soon, and I'll try to stall him a little, because he'd automatically assume that I was Snape's rescuer. So as long as you escape before he finds you, you should be safe."
"Are you insane?" Draco hissed. "We're going to rescue Severus together. Then you're coming with me."
"You won't have enough time to get Snape out if he's already on his way here, and you know that very well," Harry countered. He averted his eyes Draco's angry yet desperate glare and went on, softly, almost to himself, "There's nowhere for me to run to anymore, Draco. I have to face him. There isn't any other way to end this."
"End this? You mean committing suicide, Potter," Draco spat.
"I might not live through this, but I don't intend to go down without a fight." Harry held Draco's gaze once again. "I will face him, no matter how it's going to end. I can't go with you, but I'll try to buy you as much time as I can. I… I'm sorry. Please understand, Draco."
Draco gritted his teeth. His emotions were plain for Harry to see – hurt, fear, and betrayal.
"Why are you doing all these for a monster?" he asked quietly, turning around and nearly slamming his left forearm against the iron door to unlock it with his Dark Mark. "He can't be changed."
Draco opened the door and went in without turning his head, without looking back. But he paused briefly before disappearing through the doorway when Harry whispered, clear enough for the blonde to hear, "I know."
The heavy iron door closed behind Draco with a sound of finality, leaving Harry alone. He knew he had hurt Draco, badly. But there was something only he could do; something only he could end.
He slowly turned around and took a few steps away from the iron door. Then he waited, holding his wand loosely by his side. As an afterthought, he reached up to pull down his hood and removed his mask. He would face Voldemort face to face this time.
His certainty that no one else would be coming did not waver. Voldemort would be coming for him alone.
Just the two of them. It had always been this way, and today it would be no different.
A distant scream broke through the silence, but Harry's emotions were not affected by it. This was it, even though he didn't know what to expect from this meeting. He didn't even know what to think of Voldemort anymore. But he knew, with certainly, that there was a huge possibility that one of them was not going to live through it.
His green eyes widened slightly as a dark figure came into view, but otherwise he remained unmoving. Voldemort stopped a short way from him.
"You had time to escape, but instead you trapped yourself in here." the question was asked in low voice. "Why didn't you run?"
"I don't know," answered Harry truthfully. "Perhaps I'm too fed up with running away. I think I'd rather see this to the end."
Voldemort snarled, raising his wand. "Fool! Your supposed bravery will not save you."
Harry bent his knees slightly, ready to dodge at any moment. Still, he didn't raise his wand.
"Still keeping up your act, Potter?" hissed Voldemort. "I have destroyed one traitor today. How wonderful to destroy another now. Isn't it ironic that your attempt to rescue him would bring you directly to me?"
Something stirred within Harry at the word 'traitor'. He looked up and met Voldemort's gaze defiantly.
"Do you really think you can defeat me? Do you really believe that the power you are prophesized to have can help you?" Voldemort continued, very softly, with a dangerous edge in his voice. "But of course, that is why you are here, isn't it? To try and destroy my army from within. To climb up in rank so that you can get close to me and wait for your chance to play the world's savior once again," he spat the word savior. "Isn't that it, Potter?"
Harry clenched his jaw. "That's not true. You know it."
"What I knew is that I should have destroyed you when you first came to me," said Voldemort, utterly ruthless. "But it does not matter. Your plan ends today. You should have known by now. Lord Voldemort hates treachery above all else."
Harry snapped at that. Treachery?
"Is that what you think? Is that all it meant to you?" Harry's voice was equally cold.
Being called traitor by Voldemort had cut him deeper than anything else. As if the dam that had been holding back his emotions was finally broken by Voldemort's words, months of suppressed anger and hopelessness started to pour through, sweeping away the numbness Harry had been feeling ever since the death of Arthur Weasley.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes and took a deliberate step closer. Harry didn't bother to suppress his instinctive urge to respond to the imminent threat this time. He raised his wand and aimed it straight at the Dark Lord within a blink.
"I've seen your 'power', Potter, I've seen what you are capable of. I know very well what you can do," Voldemort glanced down at him in contempt. "Only mere luck has allowed you to survive until now. Those fools on Dumbledore's side still believe that you are special, so much so that they are willing to protect you with their lives. What a shame, though, that you are nothing."
A fire sparked up in the pair of green eyes at the cutting words. Only it was not the fire of noble courage that had seen Harry through all dangers in his early years at Hogwarts. The fire in Harry's eyes now burnt brighter, more dangerously, as it was fueled with anger. His eyes had a kind of coldness and merciless in them that was not unlike what could be seen in the crimson eyes of the Dark Lord.
"And what would that make you? You are nothing,Voldemort, nothing but a coward who's so afraid of what you can't control that you would rather destroy them all than to face the truth," Harry hissed, ignoring the pain emanating from his Dark Mark. "I don't care about that prophecy. All I wanted was to end the war without having to kill my friend. Is that so hard to understand?" His voice had spiked to shouting level by that last question. Although his body was trembling from his inner turmoil, his wand was steady, as was his cold gaze. "There's no plan to destroy you, not at all! All it has destroyed is me, not you!"
Voldemort looked unaffected, but he remained silent for a long moment before responding.
"Is that all you have to say?" he said, voice hard but quiet. "Do you believe that claiming how much you have sacrificed would convince me to spare you? Do not forget, Potter, that I never forced you to join me. It was you who had come to me, begging for a place among my servants." He bore his gaze into Harry's "Do not allow your pride to hide the fact that all your so-called suffering and all the lives that have ended because of you are the results of your own decisions."
Harry's magic reacted. It took control, greedily feeding in on his anger. An incantation was already out of his mouth before he was aware of what he was doing. And at that moment, Harry didn't care what happened. As long as he could make his point, as long as he could make Voldemort see how much it had hurt.
"Crucio!" The cruelty in his own voice made Harry's own skin crawl.
A look of surprise momentarily crossed Voldemort's eyes. He stepped close to a side of the corridor and the jet of red light shot past him narrowly, hitting the floor with a sharp, resounding explosion. Waving his wand in a sharp arc, Voldemort sent Harry flying backward onto the ground. Only years of Quidditch training and a strong hold allowed Harry to keep his wand from flying from his grip. He tumbled on the ground but quickly got back on his feet, raising his wand once again. His cold green eyes met Voldemort's, and the snarl on the Dark Lord's face intensified.
"You have no idea of the true nature of the Dark Arts, and yet you still attempt to use them. Against me," Voldemort spat, harshly. "What would the world think of a savior who could not even control his own magic?"
Still heady from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Harry could hardly take in what Voldemort had said. And his anger, now that it had been released from its cage, took hold of him and refused to let go.
"What would the world think of me?" Harry echoed. "What would the world think of a bloody traitor who turned his back on everyone he cared for and joined the murderer of his own parents?"
Harry hated himself for being so wrong, and he hated the man before him for ever entering his life. Both of his lives, past and present.
His plan had failed miserably. In the end, all he had done was to cause more deaths and aid Voldemort in the war. The only way he might be able to redeem himself in everyone's eyes would be to be to defeat Voldemort once and for all. So however small his chance might be, he was going to try.
"You should be relieved that you'll be joining your parents soon, Potter. There will be no more complications this time," said Voldemort.
Harry knew that there was nothing more to say. All that was left to do was to end this ridiculous charade in a way they were probably destined to from the very beginning.
Wordlessly, he shifted into a dueling stance. Months of self-training at both Hogwarts and Voldemort's manor had made him stronger, both physically and magically, and he refused to accept defeat before the duel had even begun.
But the duel never started. Their wands were raised against each other, but before any of them could fire a curse, their wands began to glow. The glow was faint at first, but quickly built up into an almost-blinding, golden light. The soft sounds of phoenix song echoed in Harry's mind, draining the anger inside him that had been raging mere moments ago. Light extended from the tips of both wands, and like a golden thread, joined in the middle to link them up. The wand in Harry's hand was shaking violently, and at that moment, Harry suddenly understood what this display meant.
The wands- the brother wands -refused to be used to attack each other.
He could feel Voldemort, clearer than Occlumency had ever allowed him to. It was as though they were one. Harry could almost hear the faint sound of Voldemort's heartbeat, and he could read the bright threads of emotions that stood out among the sea of darkness.
This had happened before, fifty years ago. Images began to flash across Harry's mind. They were blurred, misty from time, but he knew what they were, all of them. He shook his head, trying to struggle against the flow of memories that was soon flooding his mind. He wouldn't stand a chance against Voldemort if he was caught in some kind of vision. It would give Voldemort his chance-
But the power coming from the bonded wands was too strong. The light was glowing brighter still, and Harry soon found himself slowly closing his eyes. He could see Hogwarts. He could hear voices echoing in the space around him, his own voice… and Tom's.
They were in the great hall. Alex had just been sorted into Slytherin.
"I'm Alex, Alex Salutor."
"Tom Riddle."
The images shifted. He was now at the Room of Requirement.
Alex had spent countless hours in this room. It was in there that Tom would share with him what he had never told anyone else.
"Those muggles… I hate them. I will never forgive them."
"Don't do anything stupid, Tom."
"I won't."
"You are not alone."
"I know."
Harry forced his eyes open for a split second to find Voldemort frowning, his eyes closed like Harry's had been. But before Harry could make sense of what he had seen, he was dragged into another memory, this time in the tunnel leading to the Chamber of Secrets.
"Why are you here? You could have died."
Alex rounded on Tom, who had deliberately left him behind and run off recklessly for the Chamber alone.
"Why am I here? Because you could have died! What do you think you are doing?"
"You shouldn't be involved in this. It's my own problem."
"I thought we're friends."
"We are! That's why I don't want you to come. I don't want to pull my...my only friend into danger."
Harry didn't even have time to brace himself before another memory hit him. It was one that he recognized right away. The promise.
"I must go back, but it doesn't mean we won't see each other again in the future. I just have to find you when I get back."
"But you don't even know when you came from. What if you came from hundreds of years from the future? What if I've already... died at the time you came from?"
"Then I'll find a way. Another time travel. Whatever. I will find a way to get to you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Harry snapped his eyes open as that memory ended, gasping for breath. He felt his eyes sting, and he realized with a shock that he had been crying. Those memories were simply too much. It was too cruel a reminder of a past he wished had never existed, and of a promise he had tried so hard, but failed to keep.
'I've tried, Tom, I've really tried. But one can only hope for so many times before they learn to give up.'
Drops of tears rolled down his cheeks, and Harry angrily wiped them off with his sleeve. He had fallen into this trap before, the trap of the past, but he would not do so again. He had tried, he had hoped, and finally, he had learned his lesson.
He strengthened his grip on his wand, which was shaking so violently that it was almost jerking itself out of his hand. But he wouldn't let go. He clenched it with so much force that his knuckles turned white, willing it to listen to his command, to understand that this fight was necessary. And still his wand continued to struggle. Both wands were relentlessly trying to fight against their masters.
Lifting his head, Harry's eyes found Voldemort for the first time since the visions had started. The Dark Lord was staring straight at him. His face was stoic, but his eyes were flashing with a strange light that Harry couldn't quite comprehend. Through the bond, though, Harry could see much more than what his eyes could tell him.
There were so many emotions, so much more than he had ever felt from the Dark Lord. The emotions were replacing each another so fast that Harry was unable to tell what they meant; they were all so conflicting with each another that Harry couldn't even tell what Voldemort was truly feeling. But it all meant nothing, Harry told himself, this sudden flash of… humanity was all that was left. Soon, like every other time, the darkness inside Voldemort would vanquish everything.
He would not allow himself to hope. Never again. Voldemort had been right on one thing – the only way this could end was when one of them killed the other.
And as though Harry's silent thoughts had finally convinced their rebelling wands, the glow of the wands slowly died down, resigned to the fact that a fight against their own brother was inevitable.
Voldemort stared at his wand for a moment before training it once again on Harry. He seemed to have recovered and looked completely unaffected by what had just happened, just as Harry had predicted. Anticipating an attack, Harry quickly pushed those thoughts away and readied his own wand.
"You have seen me duel, Potter," said Voldemort flatly. "You know you cannot win."
Without waiting for Harry's reply, Voldemort attacked. It was a curse that Harry didn't recognize, and it came so fast that Harry didn't have time to dodge. He had to block it.
"Protego!" Harry yelled.
Harry's shield held back the brunt of Voldemort's curse, but the power of the curse still managed to knock him backward. And it was just like the time he dueled Dumbledore. Harry could already tell that he was going to lose.
Harry noticed that Voldemort was only using non-lethal curses, but that had not diminished his power. The duel ended quickly, with Voldemort disarming Harry and leaving him lying immobilized on the floor. This was, perhaps, a result that had not come as a surprise for both of them.
"You will be stopped, Voldemort, even if it's not by me," said Harry quietly, even when he was lying on his back with Voldemort's wand pointing straight at him.
Voldemort sneered. "The old fool can do nothing, Potter. Your death would mark the victory of my conquest."
Harry found himself smiling bitterly. "Then I suppose I still somehow managed to help you then? By sending your worst enemy right into your hand," he said, finding it strangely ironic. "But it has always been this way, hasn't it? Come to think of it, I never did manage to make you see things from my way, never once. It was always me running circles for you. I should have known I'd assumed too much. Otherwise, you wouldn't have become the way you are now, would you?"
He felt a lump in his throat as he said that. He closed his eyes, resigned. It seemed like no matter what he did, the memories of that year in the past still managed to control him. No matter what Voldemort had done, he would always be Tom Riddle for Alex Salutor.
Opening his eyes again, he stared steadily into Voldemort's eyes. He could see a strange gleam inside the pair of crimson eyes, but it did not matter anymore.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked, in a surprisingly calm voice.
The wait was becoming suffocating, especially since he knew what was to come. Had his mother felt the same way when she stood up to Voldemort?
The seconds passed like years, and still the curse had not come. What was happening? Did Voldemort plan to torture him? Or did he want to humiliate him publicly, to mock him for his foolishness?
But Voldemort seemed to be struggling with himself. Through their bond, though not as strong as it had been when their wands were connected, Harry could once again feel the conflicting emotions flowing from Voldemort. It went on for some time before the battling thoughts suddenly stopped altogether, as though Voldemort had finally reached a decision.
"It seems we did agree with one thing, Potter," Voldemort's voice was quiet with an undertone that Harry had never heard before. "It would be best, for the both of us, if Alex Salutor had never existed."
"What-" Harry tensed. Why did he have a feeling that something was going to be very wrong?
As Voldemort pressed his wand between Harry's eyes, a single pulse of thought traveled through the bond, and Harry realized with horror what exactly Voldemort was planning to do. His felt his blood turn cold.
"No," he said, staring at the Dark Lord in disbelief, "you can't."
Voldemort paused, but only for a brief second before his eyes hardened. Without warning, Harry felt as though his head was about to burst open. He knew what was coming, and he knew nothing could stop it now. A tear slowly slid down his cheek at what was to come, and what he was going to lose forever. His green eyes, which were filled with so much pain at that moment, refused to leave Voldemort's crimson pair even as the world around him slowly began to dissolve.
"Obliviate."
