The Witness and the Wife-Chapter 37-Tea Cups and Hexes
By Marmalade Fever
Recap:
"So here's the game plan," Voldemort continued, motioning the floating teapot to fill each of their cups, "down this corridor behind us are several rooms. Each room holds a little surprise for you. The object of the game is to come to the rescue of anyone who has had… a little too much tea."
"And what about you lot?" Harry asked.
There was an odd twinkle in his eye. "You have a two minute head start. Go
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Instantly the purple chairs released them, and Harry, Ron, and Ginny found themselves hurtling down the corridor. "What's that even mean?" Ron blurted out.
"I dunno, but something tells me we've got to hurry," Harry muttered, flinging open the first hospital room door he came to. At first he didn't see anything that looked particularly out-of-place (except maybe for the fact that this floor was purely meant to be a tea room and gift shop, so these rooms seemed to be for no more purpose than to fill up the rest of the floor.) Before he could shut the door and move on, though, something caught his eye. "Oh, no!" he cried.
"What is it?" Ginny called. She was about to open up the next door.
Harry muttered a series of hexes before slamming the door shut. He panted. "Potted plant was… was a grown mandrake." He didn't say anything more but simply moved on down the corridor.
Ginny was heard using an unforgivable on whatever she had found in the room she'd entered. When she'd managed to close the door again, she was ashen-faced, but she managed to move on down the corridor none-the-less.
In what seemed like no time, they overheard Voldemort giving his subjects leave to go after them. Harry, in a daze, started opening doors faster and faster, while shooting near-random spells over his shoulder. Ron gave a shout. "Over here! I found someone!" Harry quickly left his post to go in Ron's direction.
Harry gaped at the figure on the white hospital bed. It was a strange woman who had quite obviously been poisoned. A stray teacup had rolled out of her grasp and onto the floor. "Do you know what to do?" Ron asked, sounding much more high-pitched than usual.
Harry shook his head. He didn't have a bezoar with him, and even if he knew how to find an antidote, he wouldn't have time. He felt a dull nagging, which seemed suspiciously like Hermione, at the back of his mind telling him that he really should have done actual work in Potions the year before.
"Come on," Harry instructed, "maybe we'll think of something and can come back." As he made to leave, a shadow fell across the floor.
"Come now, Mr. Potter, surely you learned something from my old textbook?" Harry growled as Snape closed the door firmly behind them. He then muttered a quick locking spell.
"Like what?" Harry asked, hands clenched and shaking.
"I believe," Snape said very slowly, "you may wish to check your pocket."
Instinctively, Harry didn't budge. "And why should I trust you—a murderer?"
Snape didn't so much as flinch. "Stupid boy," he said. "Do you trust everything you know nothing about?"
Harry frowned slightly. Against his better judgement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what was unmistakably a bezoar. "But…" he began, looking up at his old Professor in confusion.
Snape held up a hand. "Do send my regards to Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, or, should I say, Mrs. Malfoy. I believe they're expecting a child, are they not?"
Harry's mouth dropped fully open. "And you didn't tell—" But Snape had already swept out of the room, his billowing robes behind him.
Harry wasted no time and stuck the bezoar into the woman's mouth. After a mere second she opened her eyes and coughed the stone out again. "Harry Potter?" she asked, looking confused.
Without answering, Harry and Ron raced from the room.
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"Hush little baby; don't say a word. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird," Hermione sang softly. "And if that mocking bird won't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama's going to buy you a looking glass…" her voice trailed off. "I don't know any more words," she whispered.
Draco sat in a chair beside the bed, staring transfixed at the two most important women in his life. A mere year ago he would never have dreamed it possible. Madelyn was napping peacefully in Hermione's arms, looking for all the world like a wingless cherub. Hermione had fed the little girl a short while ago, and now that she was asleep, it dawned on him that he and Hermione were alone.
But he didn't seem to have anything to say, and kissing her seemed oddly inappropriate. At last he spoke. "When should we have the wedding?" he asked quietly.
Hermione looked up from staring at her baby. "Not too long from now, I suppose," she whispered back. She bit her lip. "I hope they come back soon."
Draco nodded. Of course, her friends meant much, much more to her than to him. For all he cared, Weasel could die in a heap of charbroiled red hair, especially after he'd had the insolence to actually propose to her. Ginny, well, he didn't have much of an opinion of her. They had scarcely ever interacted, but for Hermione's sake he hoped the other girl would return safe and sound. As for Potter… well, he did hope the bloke would, you know, save the world and all that bunk. He wouldn't mind if he returned with some sort of physical handicap, though. A missing leg… a missing head… something along those lines.
As if sensing his thoughts, Hermione sent a small disapproving frown his way. "I love them, too, you know," she said.
He nodded. "I know." He stayed quiet for a moment. "Would you like me to call anyone? Fidget, maybe?"
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "No, I think I'd rather just be alone for a while longer." She gingerly scooted over on the bed, being careful not to wake their sleeping angel. Taking the hint, Draco sat down beside her. He very carefully smoothed down the baby's hair before kissing Hermione's cheek. She smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder.
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Ginny, apparently, had already opened and closed five doors during the time it took Harry and Ron to rescue the woman. She very quickly told them which rooms she'd found with poison victims before shooting a beam of sunlight toward Lucius Malfoy, who seemed utterly unaware of what was happening in another hospital not too far away. The man turned almost instantly a dark shade of pink, yowling as he continued to move despite his sunburn. Ginny ignored him and went on to the next room.
Harry took the bezoar to the rooms Ginny had indicated and cured a little boy and a man who looked and acted suspiciously like Frank Longbottom. The Death Eaters were more than just hot on their trail. Ron was engaged in a fierce battle with Pettigrew and shouting taunts about how he much preferred Pigwidgeon as a pet. Ginny had halted in her pursuit of doors to battle against Bellatrix. The older woman currently looked something like Medusa, with long green snakes growing from her scalp instead of hair. From the looks of it, she wasn't exactly happy about it either. Ginny herself was sporting a black eye and a broken wrist, but was still managing to put up a good fight. Harry took the opportunity to ransack a few more rooms, feeling disgusted when forced to face a legion of Inferi.
"Potter," a greased and easy voice said from behind him as he managed to pull a door shut.
Harry grimaced. "Lucius Malfoy," he grunted. "I must say the pink suits you."
Malfoy scowled. "Where did you find the bezoar, Potter?" he asked in a hiss.
Harry didn't reply but instead pretended to see something behind the blond man's shoulder. Lucius began to turn slightly when Harry quickly stupefied him. He didn't stop to think that knocking Lucius Malfoy unconscious had been entirely too easy but continued down the corridor instead. He was dimly aware of the sound of Ron shouting as he opened another door.
The room he entered was dark and he heard a faint sound like humming, and there was a putrid smell. Harry lit his wand and stared around. Instantly he felt his stomach drop to the floor. Someone had removed Dumbledore's corpse from the grave, and there it lay on the bed, being gnawed at by flies. Of all the horrible disgraceful things that Voldemort could have done, this one filled Harry with the deepest level of hatred he had ever summoned before. With a roar of rage he left the room, flew down the corridor past everyone else, and aimed his wand toward Voldemort, who merely smirked at him.
"What's wrong, Harry?" the mere shell of a man asked, settling his teacup onto a saucer.
With a horrible cry of anguish, Harry shouted out the Cruciatis Curse, hardly caring that his forehead felt ready to split in two. Voldemort lost his balance and swayed on the spot, gritting his teeth. "YOU HORRIBLE MONSTER!" Harry shouted with blind rage. In his moment of weakness, Voldemort's grip on his wand had loosened, and Harry took this moment to expel it away. Voldemort stared grimly at the wand tip that now pointed up between his two snakelike eyes.
"You can't kill me, boy," he said with a hiss. "I've taken precautions that you could never imagine."
Harry spat, the sound of the battle behind him fading into white noise. "You may be surprised, Tom, at what is and isn't true." He paused. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" A blinding green light shot from his wand, and Harry was propelled backward. A look of disbelief settled on Voldemort's face before he fell back upon the tea table, body lifeless once and for all.
Harry panted for a moment, incredibly surprised. He turned only to find that no one else had apparently noticed what he had just accomplished. "ENOUGH!" he shouted. This time, everyone stopped in their tracks to turn and stare ahead. Bellatrix's mouth fell open with a look of heartbreak. To Harry's great surprise, instead of offering retaliation, she fell to the floor with a sob.
"Alright," she muttered. "Everyone… stand down."
A.N.: One more chapter and an epilogue, most likely. What do you think? I actually really hate writing final battles, but that was sort of fun.