A/N: I do not own the characters of the Harry Potter or Star Wars universes, save those of my own invention.
Special Note 1: For an explanation of how Harry's presence influences the timeline, please read my preface to chapter 1. For an explanation how this applies to the portraits and boggart in the Room of Requirement, please read my epilogue in chapter 11.
Special Note 2:Yesterday I posted Chapter 38 incorrectly. I apologize for any confusion. I deleted the previous chapter and posted the correct chapter. If you read the first half yesterday or today, skip to the section labeled Hogwarts 1998 Please don't hate me too much. Enjoy the chapter and please review.
Also, for those that are concerned about Harry and Ginny, remember that the story is not done.
Chapter 38
"How is she," asked Harry. After Ginny fainted, the others carried her to her chambers in the Room and, after making sure she was well protected and everyone knew to leave her be, came back to talk to Harry.
"She's asleep now. Neville gave her a potion," said Ron, shaken more then any of the others. "Damn Voldemort."
"Does anyone know what happened to her? I know dark horcruxes can defend themselves and Voldemort surely put his own 'improvements' on them. But I've never heard of a horcrux speaking so candidly with a person."
"Is suspect it had something to do with her interaction with the diary five years ago," said Dumbledore solemnly. "Somehow the soul in the diadem recognized the taint on Ginny from the diary. As for exactly what traumatized her, I cannot say for sure."
"It forced her to relive the memories from the diary, and maybe threw in a few new ones just to scare her," Luna said.
Everyone looked at her. "How do you know that," Harry asked.
"She told me that the diary gave her troubling dreams, about a person doing terrible things to children and animals. She never said their name, but it was Voldemort. Poor Ginny."
Everyone was silent for a while, no one sure what to say now. Nothing seemed important. But Harry realized their work was not done and he needed his friends. Had he considered his position, he would've realized how Dumbledore felt when he asked Harry to do some monumental task while he watched, doing something else, something still vitally important but perhaps, even likely, less dangerous.
"Guys. Thanks to Ginny, we've destroyed four horcruxes. There are two left, right sir," he said, looking at Dumbledore.
The former Headmaster nodded without hesitation. "Yes Harry. But I thought the diadem was the third."
Harry shook his head. "No sir. Earlier in the year I retrieved Hufflepuff's cup from Wool's Orphanage. It's no longer a threat. That leaves the locket and Nagini."
"What the hell is a Nagini," asked Neville.
"Not what Neville…who. She is Voldemort's familiar, his snake. She is his latest horcrux. Personally I'd love for the damn thing to be run over by a truck but that isn't likely to happen. She needs to die soon though, and I think it will have to be before I return. I'll never get close to the snake, not with Voldemort already aware of how much I am learning."
"But how can we kill the snake," asked Ron.
Before Harry could answer, someone came into the portrait room. Harry didn't need to look; he felt Slytherin's presence. His friends didn't gasp or cringe; they knew he was one of his tutors. Only Dumbledore showed some surprise, in the form of a raised eyebrow.
"Excuse my interruption," he said, sounding not at all apologetic. "With what Potter has told me about the snake, and what I learned from his memories, there is only one possible way to eliminate the snake…"
"Forgive me Salazar, but if the snake were to perish, would Voldemort not create a new horcrux. Or worse: learn the truth of Harry's mission."
Slytherin glared at Dumbledore. "Do not interrupt me again Albus," he hissed. "As I was saying, there is only one possible way to eliminate the snake without drawing the wrath of my heir."
"How," asked Hermione.
"You will need your Headmaster's help. Your souls are not tainted, nor do you have the knowledge or power to do what is necessary."
"Hey, we're plenty capable," growled Neville.
Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Do not delude yourself boy," he snapped. "My heir is more knowledgeable then you could hope to be, and much more powerful. School children will not be able to fool him. And as I said, none of you have tainted your souls. You would not be able to perform the spell effectively."
"And what is the spell," asked Dumbledore, stopping the feud. "I was not aware of any spell that could destroy a horcrux."
Slytherin arched an eyebrow. "Rally Albus. You have never heard of the killing curse?"
"The killing curse would work on Nagini. I admit you are correct on that score. But we are left with the same problem—Voldemort would, at best, create a new horcrux. At worst, he would realize Harry's true mission."
Slytherin nodded. "As I said before. But there is another spell—Essenz Überweisung. Considering the present Headmaster's status in my heir's ranks, I suspect he has tainted his soul enough to be able to do what is necessary. Do you disagree?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, much as it pains me to say, Severus will be able to perform the essence transference spell. But he will use an inanimate object," Dumbledore said forcefully. "I will not ask Severus to kill another sentient being."
Slytherin smiled mockingly, both men ignoring the young adults present. "You know that will not work Albus. The essence cannot be transferred from a living creature to anything other then another living creature. If the Headmaster tries, the parasitic soul fragment will attach to him and mark him for death. It must be transferred into another living being. Use a house elf or something," he said dismissively.
Hermione bristled. "Excuse me. Those are innocent creatures…"
"Use Kreacher," said Harry, cutting off his friend.
"Harry! How can you be so callous?"
"Would you rather he use a student," Harry asked pointedly. "It's not as if Snape can traipse out onto the grounds and bring an acromantula into the castle."
'Why the bloody hell can't he," she hissed. "Or why can't he do what you did when you destroyed the cup?
"If he does that, the snake will die. We can't let that happen. Hermione, there is no better option."
"Would you throw Kreacher to the wolves if he hadn't betrayed Sirius?"
"That question is irrelevant Hermione because if that hadn't happened, this would be a different world. As I said before, we have to deal with the world as it is, not as we wish it to be."
"You've changed Harry," she said, jumping to her feet, going for the door. "And not for the better!"
SLAM!
"I'm sorry everyone," Ron said, though he didn't quite meet Harry's eyes. "I'll go talk to her."
"Harry, what was that all about," asked Neville.
"Nothing. Guys, we'll talk more later. Don't worry about Nagini. I'll come up with something."
It had been two days since his disagreement with Hermione. His best friend hadn't responded to any of his overtures, which pained him. With Ron's help, he explained the history of S.P.E.W. to Luna (Neville already knew) and how Hermione felt about Kreacher. Neville sided with Harry. Luna was more circumspect, but then she always was.
"Maybe there is a reason why Kreacher needs to survive," she said.
"But why? He's old, racist, stubborn, and would not hesitate to throw me to the wolves if I offered him even the smallest opportunity. He cannot be trusted."
"Forgive me Harry, but that is very short-sighted," she said with startling bluntness. "You want Kreacher dead because, in your mind, he led Sirius to his death. Ignoring that misconception, your prejudice—yes Harry, you are prejudiced against Kreacher—is overriding your good sense. Kreacher may be able to help you in the future Harry."
"She is right," said a silky voice from behind him.
Harry worked hard to keep anger from his voice. "Sir, what information could Kreacher possess that is of any use to us? For the last decade and a half, he lived like a hermit in that house, with only the mad portrait of Sirius' mum for companionship. He was only with the Malfoy's long enough to betray Sirius. What could he possibly know?"
Slytherin did not change his impassive expression, but Harry sensed the fire in his eyes. Harry would regret his outburst, probably very soon. But not right now. "Potter, having lived so long in that house, do you not think he would have an intimate knowledge of every trinket and treasure therein?" He did not wait for Harry to reply. "And having that knowledge, do you not think, in an effort to maintain an artificial closeness with his mistress, he would project his love onto said trinkets and treasures, so that if one day a group of people were to, as he would see in his delirious frame of mind, raid the house and throw out his treasures, he would not go mad with grief and do everything in his power to keep as many of the treasures as possible? Does any of that sound logical Potter? And, given the Black family status in the magical world, its heritage, prestige, and age, would it not be reasonable to assume that, in the course of due events, a treasure belonging to history would find itself in their home?"
Harry looked dumbstruck. None of that had occurred to him, though it was obvious that it should've. When he admitted as much, Slytherin sneered. "Again you let personal prejudice and emotions override common sense. That is unacceptable." He sounded predatory.
"I don't think I should ask Kreacher about the locket, assuming he knows anything, until I return," Harry said, hoping to reduce his sentence, if only slightly. "I am not there to exercise control over Kreacher. I would not be surprised if he ran off to Lucius or Bellatrix and tell them what I asked."
Slytherin nodded. "That would be wise. When loyalties are in question, it is always best to keep risks to a minimum. However, your plan to have your friends eliminate the snake should go forth." He looked at Neville pointedly. "This will be a chance to prove your worth my young lion. Raising a rebellion in a castle, protected by wards and a friendly Headmaster, is one thing. Capturing my heir's familiar without him noticing, and removing the soul hidden within, is another thing entirely."
Neville met his gaze. "We just might surprise you."
Slytherin hissed. "We shall see." He left without a backwards glance.
After his tutor left, Harry asked Neville how Ginny was recovering. He was worried about her, very much so. Not for the first time since he ended up in the past, he remembered how much he cared for her.
"She's getting better. Both Snape and Madam Pomfrey have attended to her. They hope she'll wake up today or tomorrow at the latest."
"Good."
His friend cocked his head, a knowing look in his eye. "Do you want to talk with her when she wakes? I don't think she'd mind at all." He smiled. "No sir, I don't think she'll mind at all."
Harry was immensely proud of himself for not showing any of what he was thinking. "If she'll have me, I would like to see her. If not, I understand."
Neville smiled. Harry hadn't fooled him a bit. "I'll let Ron know. And I'll let you know when she wakes."
"Thank you Neville."
The wait was excoriating. Harry, as he had been trained to do, put the thought in the recesses of his mind and focused on his work. All of his tutors knew he was preoccupied all the same, so they did not push him.
"You really do care for her don't you," Lily said as they were leaving the Room, their lesson with Gryffindor concluding early not least because Harry's mind was elsewhere. Harry, after glancing at the portrait room, nodded. Lily smiled and rubbed his arm gently. "I knew almost from the start, when you thought I was Ginny. You trust her without reservation. She'll be okay Harry."
He nodded jerkily. "I know," he said, without conviction.
Lily hugged him. "Do you want to have lunch here? I don't think James would mind. And he can make it sound like a date with me, avoiding Sirius and Remus."
Harry thought about that and nodded, not wanting to leave the Room. Lily smiled softly. "Wait here. I find James and speak to the house elves. Do let me know if there is any change."
While he waited, Harry checked on Ginny through her portrait. Anger bubbled in his stomach, warring with the pain, as he looked down upon her still form. Her skin was normally very fair. Now it was the same color as the white cotton sheets on which she was lying.
Her chest rose slowly, as if every breath was a battle. If he had not been looking so closely, he would not have noticed her breathing at all.
"Harry," said a voice softly from the main chamber.
He tore himself for the portrait and plastered a wide smile on his face. "James, it's good to see you."
His dad raised an eyebrow. "Harry, you call Lily mum. You can call me dad. And wipe that damn smile off your face. You don't have to be strong for me." As if to prove his point, he walked over and hugged Harry. A few tears silently rolled down his cheeks. It should not have been enough for James to notice but he did. He extended his arms, looking Harry right in the eyes, which were now dry.
He frowned a little. "Harry, you can be real with us. I would be devastated if Lily were lying somewhere in pain and I couldn't do anything to help her."
"But you would be strong," Harry said, his voice level, or at least it would sound that way to people who didn't know him. James did not know him all that well, but he knew Lily better than anyone save her parents. He knew by the look on her face that Harry was trying to cover his pain.
"No, I would be a right mess," he said, without any hint of falsehood. "Sirius and Remus have seen me cry, just as I have seen them. But they were there to support me, just as I was there to support them. That is what friends are for. And family," he added quietly.
Tears glistened in his eyes, but Harry resolutely refused to let them fall. He could not fail to see the look of hurt on Lily's face and the one of mild disappointment on James'. He mumbled something under his breath.
"I'm sorry Harry," said Lily, moving closer. "What was that?"
He sighed. "Nothing. It's not important."
His parents, for good reason, did not look convinced. But they would not force Harry to talk.
After lunch, despite their misgivings, Harry continued his lessons with Ravenclaw and Guo. He was at least forthright with his explanation: he needed something to keep him preoccupied.
As with his morning lessons though, his heart and mind were not fully in the moment. Both tutors expected nothing less. And considering his impressive progress to this point, one day was not going to hurt anyone.
Harry was about to take leave for dinner when the siren for the portrait room started going off. His tension immediately evaporated when he saw Ginny sitting upright. She still looked pale but she smiled when she saw Harry.
"Neville just left with the others. How did you find out how I was so fast?"
"How are you," he said, ignoring the question.
She smiled weakly. "I've been better." She suffered a small coughing fit, which brought some color back to her cheeks. But it was an unnatural gray. Harry cursed the fate that kept him separated from her.
After a couple of minutes, she recovered, the gray hue in her cheeks fading. Inexplicably, she flushed. "How I must look right now," she said, patting her hair, which was matted to her head.
"You look beautiful to me," he said with no originality but great sincerity.
She blushed a deeper shade of crimson, almost looking back to normal. "Then why did you push me away." She had not expected to sound so accusatory. But now that the question was asked, she wanted an answer.
Harry's eyes widened. He obviously had not expected this either. "Do you really want to talk about this now," he asked, trying to duck the issue.
She was not having any of that. He should've known better. In fact, he did know better. "Yes Harry, I want to know," she said.
He sighed, knowing she would not like his answer. "I didn't want you to get hurt," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Hermione and Ron weigh heavy enough on my conscious. I wouldn't be able to stand putting you at risk."
She looked exasperated. "So, in your minds eye, being a member of the most notorious family of blood traitors, a member-in-waiting of the Order of the Phoenix, and part of the group that destroyed the prophecy two years ago and fought off the attack in Hogwarts last year is not enough to be on Voldemort's list of enemies."
Harry heard her disbelief but thought he was still right. "No. None of those offenses would make Voldemort target you personally. But being Harry Potter's girlfriend. That's a whole different animal. Death Eaters aren't going to come after you, at least not by themselves. You can beat the majority of his Death Eaters. But you cannot beat him and that is why I left you. I refuse, absolutely refuse, to be so cavalier with your life."
She looked angry and hurt. "So, besides thinking I cannot handle myself, you don't trust me to make my own decisions."
"That's not what I said at all," he exclaimed.
"Then what the hell do you call it? In case you haven't noticed, I'm a big girl Harry. I can make bloody well make my own decision as you who I wish to see and whom I don't. Do you think I'm ignorant to everything you've faced and the obvious danger being associated with you brings? I know! And I don't care. I never cared."
Her eyes blazed with power. Harry just now noticed too that her hair was flying, as if caught in a breeze. He had never seen this side of her. It was a little scary, if he was honest with himself.
"And if you think I can't handle myself, you'd damn well better think again," she said forcefully. "Bill, Charlie, and Percy have taught me everything they know. Mum has also taught me a great deal. She was top in her class when she graduated and the only thing that kept her from the Auror academy was that she was pregnant with Bill. I'd give old Moldyshorts a run for his money."
Harry laughed at the Moldyshorts crack. He imagined what Voldemort would do if ever called that to his face.
But he quickly sobered. "Gin, I know you can handle yourself. It's one of the things I love about you. But aren't you worried…"
"No I bloody am not worried about anything. I've had that monster possess me Harry, just as you have. I've seen the darkness he can perform, both magically and non-magically. I hate him for it but it doesn't change my feelings for you. You need to pull your head out of your arse and realize that your friends—Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Fred, George, and countless more—despise Voldemort just as you do. Many of them have lost loved ones to him and his followers. Fate said you would have the power to defeat Voldemort. It did not say you had to do it alone."
"She's right you know," said a voice he hadn't heard in a while.
"Bloody hell. Does anybody in this damn room consider knocking," he said, turning to face Malfoy. "Well, say your say. What do you want?"
Malfoy smiled indulgently. "A few minutes of your time." He bowed to Ginny. "I'm glad to see you're well. Do you mind if I borrow Harry?"
She shook her head. "No. See if you can talk some sense into him." She ignored Harry's betrayed expression. "I need rest anyway," she added, around a massive yawn. "I'll see you in the morning Harry," she said, a caring smile on her face.
Harry returned the smile and the affection. "Good night Gin. I'm glad you're better too."
"I know Harry. Now go on."
Harry waited until she was breathing softly and followed Malfoy. "What is it Draco," he asked after closing the door.
Malfoy shook his head. "Nothing. I just thought it was wise to let Weasley rest. You also should go to bed as well. As she said, you can see her in the morning."
Hogwarts March 1998
Tracey Davis patrolled the dungeons around the Slytherin common room. As the 7th year Slytherin prefect and Head Girl, she could do this after curfew without arousing suspicion.
It was a fairly boring night. Her boyfriend and his bunch were lying low, which did not surprise her given one of their best was still recovering from some battle or something. Neville hadn't told her much about what happened to the Weasley girl. She hoped she was all right all the same.
For the fifth time that night, she walked past the Hufflepuff common room entrance, wishing for the life of her that the night would just end. She was dog-tired.
The thought barely left her mind before a loud scuffle broke out one or two floors above her. It must have been terrible for her to hear the booms through the stone floors. Whipping out her wand, she ran to the stairs, carefully hugging the outer wall, looking for an ambush.
She knew when she reached the right floor when balls of light and energy rocketed past the doorway. Several people were yelling and a few were screaming. She smelled burnt flesh through the smoke and dust. Her stomach lurched. She also smelled the latrine smell of bowels being released. People were dying.
Peeking around the edge, she saw several Slytherins; all but two of them (spies) were not members of her group. They were still loyal to Voldemort. Leading the group of Slytherins, thankfully, was Blaise Zabini. Like Snape, he was spying the "loyal" Slytherins for Dumbledore's Army and, thanks to his prodigious skill, infiltrated the upper ranks of said group.
Tracey, having no other option, joined the Slytherins fighting Dumbledore's Army. However, like Blaise, she was able to bellow deadly curses while casting non-threatening ones. Snape had personally instructed them when asked not long after the start of term. Together, she and Blaise saved many from horrible fates.
Then everything went to hell. Bellatrix burst from behind a tapestry, a look of mad pleasure on her face. By herself, she was worth five normal Slytherins. With her, the battle quickly turned against Dumbledore's Army. It was also nearly impossible for her and Blaise to save the others; Bellatrix would easily notice the treachery.
Still, even with a dozen students at her feet, Bellatrix looked furious. None of her killing curses could do more than knock them unconscious. Meeting Tracey's eyes, she smiled wickedly. "Please come here Miss Davis," she asked, her voice laced with honey.
Fortifying her occlumency walls, Tracey stepped forward. "Yes Professor."
Bellatrix smiled still, a mad gleam in her eye. "I can't seem to kill this rabble. Pity," she said with a simper. "Perhaps you would not mind punishing them."
Tracey nodded, seeing no harm with the request. She would fake their sentences until eventually she could pass them onto the DA. "Of course Professor. Crabbe, Greenwich. Please escort our guests down to the dungeons."
"Oh no my dear," Bellatrix interrupted, that mad smile on her face. "I don't want them tortured. I know you can do that well. No, their treachery to their creed and their race deserves something more." She pulled out her dagger and threw it to Tracey who caught it with trembling hands. "I want you to kill them."
Tracey looked at the dagger, at Bellatrix, and at the captive students. They were magically silenced but their eyes were staring at her. To her dying day, she would never forget those eyes.
"Professor, the headmaster has explained it is impossible to kill students. However much they deserve their fate, I'm afraid neither you nor I could follow through with the punishment. I wish it were otherwise Professor. I do. But there is nothing I can do."
Bellatrix smile widened and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Perhaps a test," she said cheerfully. "Ah! Here we go." She manhandled a third year Gryffindor to her side. Even though he stared defiance at everyone—every Slytherin at least—silent tears streaked his cheeks.
Bellatrix petted his hair. "Try it just this once." She caressed the boy's cheek. "Such a pity but if the rabble that parrots Dumbledore's nonsensical ideology callously throw their seed corn into the fight, we cannot be blamed if they should perish in battle." She looked at Tracey again, no smile, not even a mad grin, was now on her face. It was set and hard. "Now kill the boy."
Tracey didn't—couldn't—move. She looked at the knife and at the boy, blank shock on her face.
Bellatrix growled. "Do it now Miss Davis. Prove your loyalty to the Dark Lord." She pulled the boy's hair back, exposing his throat.
Before Tracey could be punished, three people jumped from behind the tapestry, firing a barrage of curses. Many of the Slytherins, who had not bothered with protections, were dropped quickly. A few managed to fight, but they were overwhelmed when more members of the DA appeared, coming out from behind portraits and under suits of armor.
To Tracey's horror, Bellatrix used the poor fourth year as a human shield. Members of Dumbledore's Army made her their primary target and so cast their worst curses. But it took them too long to realize they were destroying an innocent youth.
After a few minutes, Neville bellowed stop, though they all kept their wands trained on Bellatrix. "Let go of the boy you bitch," he snarled. The little boy was just barely alive, his chest rising and falling in ragged, short bursts.
Bellatrix ran her finger over the cuts on the boy's face, her nails digging, deepening the wounds and drawing more blood. The boy was so out of it though, he didn't even stir. Tracey nearly threw up when she licked her finger clean. Several of the other people with Neville couldn't stop themselves. The acrid smell of bile warred with all the others in the hall.
Neville turned a sickly shade of green but his wand never wavered. "Let the boy go," he said again, his voice strong despite his obvious discomfort.
Bellatrix smiled. "Oh no ickle Longbottom. Aunt Bella is just getting started." With the smallest flick of her wand, a roiling cloud of smoke raced around everyone present. Tracey felt a wrenching pull on her waist as the shadow forced everyone together, binding them together. In an odd twist of fate, Tracey was pressed up against Neville. She chanced a look at him but his eyes were focused only on Bellatrix, who was sauntering at them, a saucy flick in her hips that looked more terrifying then seductive.
"What do you plan to do to us Bella," asked Neville, glaring at his parents' almost-murderer. "You can't kill us. You have to know that."
She smiled. "Oh I do. That's why I'm not going to kill you." She lowered her gaze. "I'll let the darkness take care of that. If it does not kill you, you're bodies will be so ravaged, death will be a welcome release."
She conjured a chair and sat. "And I do think I will watch."
"God damn Bellatrix," snarled Snape after several of the portraits gave him their report. Snape drummed his fingers on his desk, unsure of how to proceed. Every minute he dawdled pushed those students closer to annihilation but without a plan, he would expose himself as their savior and be run out of the castle. That would be disastrous.
"Severus," called Dumbledore, urgency in his voice. "Severus, you must act quickly."
Snape glared daggers at Dumbledore. "Do you not think I understand that Albus. But what am I to do? Those students will need an organized rescue. None of the other professors trust me and I can't lead the charge, which would be the only way to prove where my true loyalties lie. What can I do," he repeated.
"I would suggest you use your patronus to send a message to the other professors."
"They will know my voice Dumbledore! They will think I am leading them into a trap."
"Then do not speak the warning yourself. Use someone you know they can trust." Snape looked utterly lost. Dumbledore stared at him, telling him that all the pieces were there if only he would put them together.
Then, without conscious thought, Snape realized to what Dumbledore was referring. He walked over to a silver, 3-D representation of a line inside a circle inside a triangle: the symbol of the supposed Deathly Hallows from the children's fables. At his touch, the triangle spun around madly and suddenly a door appeared on his wall under Dumbledore's portrait. The pathway led him to the Room of Requirement.
Right now, even with a number of their group in the grips of pending death, the Room was quiet as students slept. Quietly, so as not to disturb them, Snape headed for Potter's portrait, which had taken residence in their medical wing.
Ginny Weasley was sleeping. A few incantations ensured she would not wake until morning. Considering her state, she needed all the rest she could get.
"What are you doing Snape," asked the man he wished to see.
"Potter is there any way you can bring your mother here. As soon as possible."
Potter raised an eyebrow but he heard the urgency in his voice. "Give me a moment," he said, fingering a galleon in his hand. "If she has the coin, she'll come," he said with confidence.
And he was right to be confidant. Not five minutes later, an irate Lily stormed into the room, hair flying every direction at once. "What the bloody hell are you playing at Harry," she raged.
Harry held up a placating hand. "It isn't me who needs to see you." He pointed at the portrait of Ginny. She was surprised to see Snape staring at her. Instinctively, she pulled her robe tighter around her body.
Snape carefully did not smirk. "Lily, there is a problem with the students, one that I cannot help directly. I'll conjure a patronus and I need you to record the message. Can you do that?"
Harry and Lily both shared looks at hearing something was happening with the students. "O course Sev. But how will that help? Won't it alarm the other professors?"
Snape shook his head and conjured a patronus: a beautiful doe. Lily nearly fainted, Harry just barely catching her. "Sev…that's…you have…we have the same patronus."
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face for a fraction of a second. Then, as his patronus was staring at him intently, he gestured towards Lily. "Tell the professors that Bellatrix is holding students captive outside the staircase to the Slytherin common room. She is using shadow magic. They will need patroni." After Lily gave the message, Snape sent the doe on her way. He shared a look with Lily, saying nothing, before leaving in hurry.
Professor Flitwick was sleeping soundly when an intensely bright light suddenly burst to life in his room. Muttering darkly, he waved his hand. The light never wavered.
"What sort of prank is this," he grumbled, eyes adjusting to the light. It was a patronus obviously. It was a doe.
Flitwick did a double take as he reached for his wand. He knew of only one person who had a doe patronus. But how could it be here now?
When it spoke, it removed all possible doubt from his mind that his former prodigy was somehow speaking to him from beyond the grave: "There was a battle outside the stairway to the Slytherin common room. Bellatrix is holding the students captive with shadow magic."
The doe cantered out of the room, plunging the room back into darkness. Flitwick wasted not time, grabbing his wand and racing as fast as his little legs could carry him down to the entrance hall.
Bellatrix watched gleefully as the shadow magic ravaged the students. It was not going to kill them, not outright. But she knew this was a way to circumvent the Hogwarts protections. How her master would be pleased!
Before she could relish the prospect of being rewarded, ten patroni came suddenly from all directions, smashing into the shadow circling the students. All ten disappeared instantly, but their collective force was enough to break the dark hold on the students. Before she could cast another curse, a doe patronus appeared in front of them, protecting them.
It held her attention long enough for ten professors to surround her. She could do no more than submit before Vector summoned her wand and McGonagall summoned her dagger. Still, she would not give up silently. "Whatever you do to me, the Dark Lord will avenge on you blood traitors ten fold."
"So you say," said McGonagall, her hard face set in lines of utter loathing. "Right now we'll take you to Snape. Your master will have no excuse to hurt the students." With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix was bound and gagged. "I'll remove this to the Headmaster," she practically spat the sentence. "Take the students to Poppy. They would be better if we found them sooner but they should recover."
Leaving her peers to handle the students, McGonagall levitated Bellatrix up to flights of stairs. But instead of turning down the hall towards the Headmaster's Office, she veered right until she found a classroom that suited her. Once the door was closed, she transfigured stone warriors to guard the door and put up a number of protections. She took pride in the bewildered look Bellatrix could not hide.
"Yes my dear," she said with acid courtesy. "You learned from the foot of your maniacal master and I learned from the one wizard he ever feared." She jabbed her wand against Bellatrix's cheek. "And if you think he only taught me the light magic, you are sorely mistaken." She bent low, until her face was an inch from her captive's ear. "And if you think I have the reservations my mentor had, you would be wrong there as well. If there is one thing I cannot tolerate, it is child abuse. You will have no memories of this night. But before you can forget, I will make sure you have much to unremember."
Bellatrix's eyes widened in fear, something she had not felt in some time, as McGonagall removed her hat, her hair falling to her shoulders.
Snape listened to an account of what McGonagall was doing to Bellatrix from Peeves. He did not doubt the poltergeist, whom was gloating about the harm being done to the psycho witch. As Dumbledore's former apprentice, just as Bellatrix was Voldemort's former apprentice, he knew she was a formidable witch. He was glad Bellatrix was getting everything she deserved. And he was confidant McGonagall would make sure she would never remember this night.
He would need to see to the Slytherin students loyal to the Dark Lord. They could not remember this night either lest it find its way to Voldemort. But that would be a simple matter; they were recovering in the hospital wing. He could remove their memories tomorrow morning.
He turned around in his chair, looking out the window. Dumbledore was gone, presumably giving a report to Potter.
His thoughts didn't stay with Potter though, not for long. His mind drifted to Lily. She looked just as he remembered, more beautiful then any woman he had ever seen. If only he had not been so foolish as a teenager. He squandered a chance at winning the heart of the love of his life. He had been afraid that such affection would weaken him. Such ignorance. Now he had only is memories.
As McGonagall unraveled each layer of Bellatrix's mental defenses, plunging into the recesses of her mind, she saw horrifying images, worse then anything she ever saw in her life, either in person or, during her brief stint as an Auror, as an investigator.
Yet there was one that, while as disgusting as many of the others, struck her as useful. It was a not a repressed memory, at least not in the conventional sense. She had experience with repressed memories: they were hidden behind barriers that the person purposefully created inside a jumble of other memories and feelings, usually memories associated with diametrically different emotions, the better to mask them.
An outside force repressed this memory. Not surprising considering what it showed of course. It had been buried by negative emotions, to say nothing of a deluge of dark wards and protections. It had been further protected because it had been buried in a common well of memories of her greatest achievements. Bellatrix was not nostalgic and would so have no reason to pry into her past successes, and so no reason to sift through the protections in place for that store in her mind.
As her last act before wiping all memory of this night from her mind, McGonagall moved the memory into another place in her mind, one where she held memories of her first day at Hogwarts, her first induction into the Death Eater ranks, and the first time she met Voldemort. In other words, all of the memories that made her happy. She did not have the power to undo all the dark protections on this memory. But, if forced to reside with happy memories and happy emotions, the protections would be removed naturally. What would she think when she realized the truth about her master?
A/N: As always, please review.