Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.


- - - Book 4 — Part 7: Hopeless

Draco was helped up by McGonagall, the others quickly being handled by Dumbledore and Flitwick for questioning. Snape arrived soon after and left with Dumbledore.

Everything was happening so fast Draco felt as if he was only along for the ride.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy. Can you tell us what happened?" McGonagall asked kindly.

How did he get to the infirmary so fast?

And what had happened?

Happened.

Harry had been taken, right before their eyes, that's what had happened.

"I was going to the library. I was going to meet Harry there after he was finished with his lesson," Draco answered, for the first time looking up at McGonagall.

Pomfrey was doing something at the side table. The unconscious Durmstrang boy was in the bed not far from him, under the guard of Flitwick.

"Yes?" McGonagall prompted, since Draco had paused.

"And I heard fighting as I went around the corner. I was almost hit with a red spell. I don't think it was a stupefy. Nott, Parkinson, and Ruguntine were fighting with two Durmstrang students." Draco shook his head. "Spells went flying, and then the next thing I realized, there were four other Slytherins. Warrington hit me with a spell that I blocked, but I hit the wall. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but then Nott . . . he cast the Cruciatus."

McGonagall's lips thinned dangerously.

"Where could he have taken Harry?" Draco asked, his thoughts understandably straying.

"The Headmaster is working on finding him, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall soothed, but Draco only became more agitated.

"He's in trouble!" Draco suddenly blurted, trying to sit up, despite his aching head due to hitting the wall. "Professor, I can feel it," he continued, his hand gripping the front of his robes over his heart.

"Calm down, Mr. Malfoy. We are doing everything we can to find him," Flitwick said.

Draco's heart began to race, a sense of total helplessness rushing over him just like the feeling one gets from seeing a loved one immersed in terrible pain. He could feel the thickness over the bond tighten painfully, so tight it felt as if he himself was getting strangled.

"Poppy!" McGonagall cried as Draco was suddenly gasping for breath.

"I—I can't get to him! Why can't I get to him?!" Draco cried, finding himself unable to carry out a pop in attempt to go to Harry directly. "Harry!"

He grabbed Pomfrey's wrist, suddenly finding her right beside him as he felt a horrifying twist across the bond threatening the very existence of it.

"He needs help!" Draco screamed desperately. "Dobby!"

-Pop-

"Master!"

"Go to Harry now! He's in trouble!" Draco ordered, now struggling against Pomfrey who was trying to lay him down.

Dobby nodded quickly, his ears flopping wildly as he concentrated.

–P-----

Dobby gasped. "Dobby cannot Master! There is no connection! Dobby cannot go to wheres he is, there is a block!"

"What! That's impossible!" Draco exclaimed.

Pomfrey and McGonagall were now both watching the exchange between master and elf, Flitwick's eyes growing wide in alarm. He knew the implications of this.

Suddenly, Draco closed his eyes and shuddered, as if he had just witnessed something particularly gruesome. His eyes then snapped open, wide in horrified alarm.

"Oh, Merlin, please no," he breathed, unexpectedly incredibly weak.

He had only felt something like this once before, and that had been in the Chamber of Secrets . . . when they had nearly lost Harry. Only this was far worse. He felt Harry's Makra within the bond tear away, ripping from the bond without any sign of stopping. It was hot and unrestrained. Violent and abrupt. There was nothing he could have ever done to have prepared himself for it.

The next thing McGonagall and the others saw was Draco's eyes roll up into his head as he went completely limp.

O o O o O

Voldemort grinned as he handed the orbs out to four death eaters he had specifically selected for the task. He was very happy, nearly jittery with what was going to take place very soon. Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, and the Ministry were about to witness an undeniable display of his power. They were going to have such a crash of morale that they were not going to have any will to fight, and . . . well, even if they still managed to put up a fight, he was invincible. No one could kill him now; the prophesy had said so.

"We are ready, My Lord," they said in unison.

"Then go, you know what to do."

And so they left, each holding a bright glowing sphere in their right hands.

O o O o O

Hogsmeade – Just before Noon

With the sun high above them, people went to and from the many shops along the snow covered streets of Hogsmeade. It was like any other day to them, but it would soon become a day none of them would ever forget.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a man boomed from the middle of the busiest street.

He looked like any normal man, save for the glowing orb in his left hand. His right hand was currently holding his wand, its point positioned at the side of his neck to amplify his voice.

"I have been requested to deliver a message to all of you! A message of great importance and one that will make history!" he continued, his voice so loud it echoed even beyond the village.

To say the least, he had gotten the attention of all of the people in Hogsmeade.

He then put the orb on the ground and stepped back.

Suddenly, a gray beam of light shot up from out of it, and then expanded out, before revealing a scene within its light. At first, it was hard to make out what it was trying to display, but then a face came into view high above them, in clear view for all to see.

Voldemort.

There were scattered screams, but for the most part, everyone was too stunned to do anything but stare.

"I know it must be a shock to see me out in the open like this, so to speak, but I could not keep my victory to myself for long and desired to share it. If you have not heard by now, Harry Potter has been kidnapped from right under the nose of Albus Dumbledore and within the very walls of Hogwarts. As some of you may have guessed, he was brought directly into my hands." Voldemort grinned maliciously. "Here, let me show you. . . ."

Voldemort's face vanished, soon to be replaced with the stone statue many immediately recognized. The monument to the Potters in Godric Hollow. Directly in front of it was Harry Potter, clearly worn and tired but standing defiantly in front of the form they instantly identified as Voldemort.

It was a recording, taken from an angle behind and to the side of Voldemort. They could see sweat gathering on Harry's face, despite the falling snow, his breath visible in the air.

"CRUCIO!"

The people in the streets cried out in horror as the spell hit The-Boy-Who-Lived and caused him to collapse, thrashing. They held their breath as Voldemort held the spell for several long seconds as he approached Harry before releasing the curse.

"You are a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose . . . everything," they heard Voldemort say, kneeling down over Harry.

Those watching were utterly petrified, unable to turn away as Voldemort got back up and stepped away his wand held up in clear view for the visual recorder.

"I will show the world what happens to those who defy me," Voldemort said. "Starting with their beloved 'boy-who-lived'."

Despite the situation, the crowd watched in wonder and pride as Harry slowly began to rise to his feet, his eyes never wavering.

"A fitting place, wouldn't you say, to end you? At the foot of this statue," Voldemort commented, waiting for Harry to straighten up fully. "Good bye, Harry Potter."

The fire roared forth, and there was no denying the power Voldemort wielded as it engulfed Harry and the renowned statue.

A moment later, Voldemort snuffed out the flames, revealing the damage left behind. The scene faded, Voldemort's face coming back into full view.

"Harry Potter is dead. As you and the majority of Britain's Wizarding World just witnessed, I killed him myself. No one is beyond my reach. However, I am not without mercy. I will give a chance for the Ministry to surrender, peacefully. Minister, I look forward to seeing you. I'm coming."

As the light faded and the orb disintegrated, no one moved, for what could any of them do?

O o O o O

Diagon Alley

There was barely a dry eye in the entire alley. They had all witnessed it, had seen the murder of Harry James Potter — The-Boy-Who-Lived.

How had this happened?

What would happen now?

What could be done now?

O o O o O

Ministry

The Aurors scrambled, trying to make sense of what they had just been shown as Ministry employees began running to and fro, unsure what they should do now but wanting — needing — to do something.

O o O o O

Hogwarts

The orb crumbled in front of the Headmaster's place as the sound of weeping continued to grow in the Great Hall.

An owl had delivered it, dropping it directly at the center of the head table before activating. Because it was not a harmful object, it came through the wards without a problem, the owl evidently having been told exactly when and where to drop it.

Albus Dumbledore was not in the Great Hall, he was with a number of Aurors at the Ministry, trying to find a lead on Harry; so all eyes fell onto the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.

"Everyone will be confined to the Great Hall until further notice," McGonagall declared, her voice barely concealing her despair as she stood. "What we have just witnessed may be a hoax. Do not panic, it's what the Dark Lord wants."

The frightened students could only watch as McGonagall hurried out of the hall.

O o O o O

Atrium of the Ministry of Magic

Dumbledore felt a lump grow in his throat as chaos ensued.

It shouldn't have come to this. It shouldn't have ended this way. Harry was supposed to live through and well beyond the war! He wasn't supposed to die! Not now, not like that!

Dumbledore began to bow his head, tears filling his eyes even though he was trying to keep himself composed, but then he felt it. Powerful magic surged into the area, and he knew he was there. Somewhere within the Ministry.

Dumbledore rotated on his heel, rushing to the Minister's office, very certain about where Voldemort was now headed.

No matter what he was feeling now, no matter who had been lost, he could not and would not give into despair.

The war was not over.

Not yet.

No matter how hopeless it seemed.

O o O o O


A/N: Well, there it is. A very short part and maybe a bit choppy (which was sort of the point), but from the title of the next part below, I feel I don't need to tell you some (hopefully) impressive stuff is coming....

Next Part: Mage's Wrath