HARROW
remembrance . misercordiam . net
Tue. 30 July
Susan did not sleep well that night.
What did it mean to see through the Dark Lord's eyes? Something was weird about her. She'd gathered from Harry that he didn't experience the inner mind the way she did—except when she helped him. But Harry could not possibly have the memory of looking at himself. A mirror maybe, but the experience had been far too vivid to slough off the realization that she had been seeing Voldemort's perspective and—more confoundingly—feeling his emotions and sensing his thoughts.
Susan Bones only had two explanations—well three technically.
One. Whatever Susan's ability was, she was able to vividly extrapolate what the Dark Lord's experience had been and had intuitively fallen into that instead of into Harry's actual memory. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism attempting to protect her from the fear and pain she knew the memory would involve.
Two. Something about what happened that night embedded Voldemort's memory of the event into Harry. That's what the end of the memory had felt like. Her sense had disincorporated, flowed in darkness, and then coalesced around something smaller and weaker. The death curse had only be defeated once... by Harry. No one knew what that actually did. He had spoken of his connection with he-who-must-not-be-named, but she hadn't known what he meant. Still it was possible.
Three. Magic. It was the ultimate cop out. She didn't and couldn't know, but the inexplicable did occur from time to time. None of these was satisfying. Susan's psyche demanded answers, but none would be forthcoming.
Lily was Harry's mother. She was sure she had that detail right. That name hadn't been spoken aloud or at least she hadn't heard it. It was more like a thought. And Susan couldn't figure out who in that home on that night could have been thinking that thought at that moment.
~ diffindo ~
Hannah looked back at Susan one more time. Susan had seemed better lately, but unsurprisingly having Harry around had caused Sue to quiet down. She knew her friend well enough to know that she was introspecting and that that was something Susan Bones always preferred to do on her own. But of course, they were on a schedule today.
"Sue."
She looked up almost startled by the intrusion of her whispered name.
"Are we doing this?"
Susan looked apologetic and nodded as the two proceeded to sneak down the hall of her home. Harry's door was to left at the end of the hall juxtaposed with Sue's bedroom at the far end. They reached the door and Hannah silently slid her finger over the bedroom door handle. She quietly pushed down and let the door swing open. As they walked in they could see Harry's prone form covered in a blanket.
Hannah looked to Susan and silently mouthed a count.
1... 2... 3...
"Happy Birthday!"
He sat straight up in bed like he thought he was being attacked. And while Hannah continued to smile, her confidence that this was a good idea faltered when the blanket fell away from Harry's torso exposing more of him than she had been ready for.
Harry was clearly not ready for this either as his second reaction was to clutch the blanket up around him and to look with eyes that demanded an explanation at the two bed chamber interlopers.
"What— what's going on?!"
"We're here to wish you a Happy Birthday."
Harry looked relieved but still slightly traumatized.
"It's not my birthday until tomorrow, but... thank you?"
"Oh we know. It's a better surprise this way."
Actually, Hannah knew, the real surprises were still coming. A good number of Harry's friends were hiding in the living room and connected kitchen area. The only person who didn't seem excited and engaged by this plan was Susan. She was supposed to be helping with this and instead she just looked apologetically at Harry.
"Come on, Harry. You can have whatever you want for breakfast... you'll have to make it though."
Hannah smiled widely and held out her hand to help him up, but then realized that he would probably want to dress first. There was a moderately noticeable bump in his lap. She pulled her hand back.
"We'll leave you to get dressed, but do hurry. We're hungry."
As Susan and Hannah retreated from the room, she threw a glance at her friend in askance. 'What is wrong with you?' But Sue just shook her head.
"Remember, you have to get his wand off him at some point."
~ diffindo ~
Well that had been traumatic. Harry was still trying to calm his heart. After last night's foray into the worst of his past experiences he was in no condition to awake with that kind of fright. As he calmed down and woke up fully, he did end up smiling. It was nice of them to give thought to his birthday. Since they were a day early he assumed that they had something planned with him and Neville both. That was fine.
As Harry got out of bed, he was very thankful that he had decided to wear his pants to bed. Sometimes he didn't. That would have been more awkward. He had woken in the common condition for a young man and worried that Hannah or Susan might have noticed and been offended. Not his fault though. He dressed in a basic outfit—most of his clothes were the same anyway.
He open his door and realized with some annoyance that Susan and Hannah did expect him to make breakfast. Normally he didn't mind, but it was kind of inconsiderate under the circumstances.
The Bones kitchen was nice but not overly large. The light over the small kitchen table was on and Hannah and Susan were sitting expectantly at the table. The rest of the house was still dark. What time was it? Harry shook his head now decidedly annoyed, but not wanting to appear surly.
He opened the refrigerator to grab the milk and the nearby cupboard to get the eggs.
"SURPRISE!"
It was all Harry could do to hold onto the eggs as the light came up and person after person seemingly materialized out of thin air. He saw Hermione, Ginny, and further back were the smiling faces of Lavender, Justin, Dean, the Patel twins... and Cho. There were several others, but Harry had stopped. He hadn't seen Cho since they had broken up.
Hermione rushed up and hugged Harry.
"Happy early birthday, Harry."
Harry felt Hermione's warmth against him, but his eyes were still locked on Cho Chang. She met his gaze and held it for a moment before looking down awkwardly. He snapped himself out of his surprise and looked at Hermione and Ginny.
"Why?"
"Because you never seem to get a good birthday. And everybody needed an excuse for a party."
"You didn't need to do this."
"Of course we did. Susan, Hannah, Ginny, and I all agreed. And as you can see many others did too. Just wait until you see what Ginny has planned for tomorrow."
Harry glanced at Ginny who looked down in embarrassment. Hermione also noticing Ginny's reaction chuckled.
"Maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you that it was her idea."
"What was?"
"You'll just have to wait and see."
"I don't know if I can take any more surprises."
He couldn't miss the eye contact that Hermione made with either Susan or Hannah behind him. So something else was coming. Harry hadn't survived this many years without being observant.
"I don't think I have enough food for everyone."
Neville finally walked up.
"Oh we took care of that... well, Lav and Justin did the work."
He glanced to Lavender who summoned her wand and flicked a quick finite. A spread of breakfast themed party food appeared on the dining table. Harry finally began to relax. It looked like his friends actually had everything in hand. Dean pushed his way toward the table.
"Come on! Let's eat and let Harry wake up. I'm hungry and who gets up this early in the Summer."
Lavender Brown bristled back at him.
"Do you have any idea how long it takes to make this much food? You just got here."
The good natured bickering from the fellow Gryffindors continued as Harry was encouraged to make a plate of food and sit down at the clearly inadequate dining table.
~ diffindo ~
"I'll just take a few minutes. Can you keep everyone distracted? It'll be quick... I really need a shower before we get into any more activities."
Ginny had been caught aside because apparently Susan—who would be the logical choice to ask—had been consistently busy playing hostess. Ginny didn't mind and gave him the go ahead to slip away down the bedroom corridor. She could have easily let her imagination run free with thoughts of Harry in the shower, but instead she was laser focused on someone else.
Someone she had much stronger feelings for.
She'd nearly screamed Hermione's face off when she'd learned that Cho Chang had been invited. Some of it was probably jealousy. That would be a fair critique, but part of it was perfectly justified. Cho was an emotional vampire that had latched on to Harry and leeched from him comfort about Diggory's death when it had been him who had witnessed his demise.
Ginny knew that the best course of action was to play nice, but she didn't feel nice at she wasn't a Slytherin or a Hufflepuff who could hide malice behind a veneer of sweetness. If she felt like glaring, then she would glare. If she felt like yelling, then she would yell.
So Ginevra Weasley stayed well clear of Harry's first girlfriend.
On the plus side, Hermione looked more chipper than she had in all the past months. Nothing got Hermione going like managing logistics. It gave Ginny some insight. Hermione likes to be in the centre. Not on centre stage. She doesn't want attention. But she does want people to depend on her. That's what makes her feel valuable and worthwhile.
~ diffindo ~
Neville was on a secret mission. When Ginny mentioned that Harry was going to take a quick shower, he sprung into action. He'd quietly padded down the hallway and stood just outside the bathroom door. He was nervous. It would be very awkward to be caught going through Harry's things. But as he quietly slid the door open he knew he had to act fast. The shower curtain was all that separated him from Harry in his... birthday suit.
Neville suppressed a snicker at the apropos pun.
He had to be careful to stay out of the line of sight from the windows to the shower stall lest he cast a shadow. Harry's trousers were hung over the side of the sink and were thankfully easily accessible.
He stayed low and reached around to Harry's back pocket and felt for the slim rod of Harry's wand. It was there. Neville followed the line up the back of the buttock pocket and slipped his finger around the stick where it poked out of the top.
Neville gave a brief thought to the idea that Harry might have placed an enchantment on his wand to protect or ward it, but... nothing ventured...
He carefully slid the wand out of the pocket. It came free easily, but the movement of the trousers had imbalanced them on the side of the sink in favour of the half that dangled off. Neville had a brief moment of fright as the garment pooled on the floor.
Oh well. It hadn't been loud enough to alert the shower occupant and at least he had the wand. Neville retreated back out the way he came feeling quite accomplished at his stealth skills.
~ diffindo ~
Hermione had seen Neville come back out of the back hallway quietly brandishing Harry's wand to Hannah. A part of her mind felt a satisfaction at achieving that small goal. She still felt squeamish about the plan, like something about it was wrong. It wasn't much reassurance to Hermione that most wizards and witches had this done to them at least once. It was a tradition during the teen years... but that didn't mean that it was a good thing or that it should continue. But Hannah and Ginny had been very vocal that this was just the thing to make Harry feel that he was still part of the community.
It had taken several minutes more—Harry had clearly taken a leisurely shower—but he was now coming out dressed in different clothes. He caught her looking at him and came directly over.
"Have you seen my wand Hermione? I think it fell out of my pocket."
So she was going to have to shut that down fast.
"We'll look for it later, Harry. Everyone has been waiting for you. Hannah, do you have the gifts ready to go?"
"But, Hermione, I really need my wand to feel safe."
She felt a pang of guilt, but pushed on.
"Nonsense, everyone else has a wand and we're all focused on you. You're perfectly safe. Now come on, your just delaying things."
Harry finally resigned himself and submitted to sitting at the head of the table which was piled with a not-insignificant number of brightly decorated packages.
"Fine. But I don't like it."
This worried Hermione more. She was beginning to think that Ginny had misjudged what Harry would like in this situation. But the wheels were in motion and that was all Hannah's show in the end.
~ diffindo ~
Harry held his seventh package. It really was too much. Really... it was too much. He was living in a home not his own, so he couldn't have so many personal belongings taking up space. The wand holster was really nice though and that he at least could hang in his closet if need be. It was designed to prevent a surprise disarming by wrapping the wand in protective magic. Unfortunately, this also prevented the wand from being used—no magic in, no magic out. It also reminded him of his misplaced wand. He looked again at the bag it had come in. The tag read in scrawled text... 'Dean'.
"Thanks, Dean. This is awesome."
"Ginny and I were talking, and she thought it would be a good companion to her gift."
Harry returned Dean's amiable smile, but inside he wondered exactly how much Ginny and Dean had been talking. Ginny had said she wanted space. Was that just from him?
He reluctantly set it aside and opened two paired parcels from Ginny and Hermione that were obviously garment boxes and had been placed as the last of his gifts. Inside were robes—plain black robes. Harry didn't know the first thing about clothes more less fashionable robes, so he gave a look of cluelessness to his best friends.
Ginny explained.
"They're casting robes, Harry. But they are also appropriate for the Wizengamot. Most official robes are awkward to move in and draw from. We thought you might prefer these."
It was a very thoughtful gift. But these robes were black.
"I thought the robes were a red-purple colour."
This time it was Hermione who responding jumping in with her recitative voice.
"'Members shall where the plum robes of the magistrate on the floor of the chamber only when operating in judicial capacity.' You'll need plain black robes most of the time. In fact, in the fourteen century, Olric the—"
Hermione's lesson was truncated by an unexpected chime from the floo. Harry was relieved to dodge another impromptu lesson. And since the arrival of Fleur and Bill peaked his interest, he took the opportunity to greet his fellow Tri-wizard champion. It was an odd bond between them—close and strong, but not really intimate. There was always a respectful distance. Not that they had really spoken much at all since the night of the maze.
"'Arry, it is good to see you."
Fleur took each of Harry's hands in her own and bowed her head lightly in respect. Not knowing any better Harry reciprocated which seemed to amuse the quarter-Veela, but if he had socially misstepped, she kept it to herself only allowing the smallest smirk at the corner of her lips.
"You, too. How are the both of you?"
Now she did smile openly and broke the contact between them to turn to Bill Weasley.
"Late, it should seem. My dear Bill cannot seem to be in a place at a time appointed."
"That doesn't matter at all. What matters is that you are here. Please, come and sit. There is an unjustifiable amount of food."
While Fleur showed little interest in the offering of food, the elder Weasley could not contain his apparent hunger. Harry saw her shake her head and quickly roll her eyes at him.
"Go on, then. Get yourself tucked in."
As he walked off, she turned back to Harry.
"He'd no breakfast this morning. It is difficult for him."
And with this Harry invited Fleur to sit down and catch up.
~ diffindo ~
It was going perfectly. Soon she would have Harry exactly where she wanted him. He was busy with Fleur. But Ginny had gotten to Bill as soon as he'd arrived. It would have been a disaster to have a curse breaker standing in the way. So he was "part of it" now. She nodded to Neville who signaled Dean. Dean quietly spoke to Padme. And Padme pulled out a small pouch from her pocket.
Instant Darkness Powder.
The next part would be slightly chaotic, but what really mattered was that someone hit Harry with a sleeping spell fast. After that, he would be led to his fate. She'd never done something like this before. It felt right, it felt exhilarating. The plan buzzed in her mind.
Soon Harry would meet Bellatrix Lestrange face to face.
Hannah tittered with glee.
~ diffindo ~
Harry desperately tried to find his bearings. Everything had gone dark and there had been screaming and then what had sounded like spells being shot through pitch black. He'd known what this was from the first moments. They were under attack. Harry had immediately sprung for the cover of the kitchen and reached for his wand. Not finding it there had felt like the jolt when miscounting stairs in the dark. He hadn't had time to think again because everything had gone quiet in his mind.
But now... Shit!
Where was he?
He heard a muffled voice cutting through the dark. It had a odd sound to it.
"Need you 'ave hit him so 'ard?"
An even more muffled voice responded, but Harry couldn't make it out. But the first voice, it was too obvious. It also didn't make sense. The pinched timbre of her French accent left no room for doubt.
Fleur...? What was she doing?
Harry's head rang and his hands were tied.
His whole body was vibrating softly until a great bump threw him onto his side. He was moving. They were moving. The grumbling sound in his head was an engine. He was in a car—the boot he assumed.
He listened for further indications of where he might be, but other then the occasional sharp jostle all he could hear was the hum of a very muggle engine. Wherever they were going it wasn't a smooth road.
The seconds began to pass into minutes and Harry considered the merits of calling for help. The only people likely to hear him where his abductors.
But... Fleur?
Her voice came to him again.
"And you are certain he isn't to be harmed."
A muffled reply still defied Harry's recognition.
The vehicle was slowing now. Harry felt himself roll forward as they finally rolled to a halt. The engine died. A car door open and closed and then another. Someone was walking to the back of the car. The person on the outside banged loudly on the hood.
"Did you get a good nap in there, son?"
So it was a man.
"Open it."
"Why are you doing zis?"
"Quiet, open it."
A splash of light hit Harry's back illuminating the wall of the compartment interior. He rolled over using his legs. They weren't tied—so there was that.
As his eyes adjusted he found himself looking at the porous texture of light beaming through trees. He was in a forest. Then he saw his captor, an older, grizzly man who sneered triumphantly at him.
Then his eyes fell to Fleur. She was anxious, worried. And her hands were also tied. So they had both been taken. Did this have to do with the Tri-wizard competition somehow? No. That was a stupid idea. Fleur was repeatedly shifting her eyes to their captor. Then she mouthed the word 'talk'. Harry nodded before he could stop himself.
"Stop nodding like a tosser. What exactly do you think you've figured out, then?"
"I've figured out that you are a common thug. Who hired you?"
Fleur was fiddling with her hands. Why were they bound with ties and not magic? She was almost loose.
"That really is not important. What is important is that you don't cause any trouble. I don't have any patience for..."
She was loose. Her hands rose up, wandless, to either side of his head. Her face scrunched in concentration and she yelled almost straight into his ear.
"Scintillio!"
Everything for Harry was white for a solid five seconds and then the man was on the ground unconscious. Fleur was already untying his hands.
"Are you okay, 'Arry?"
"Yes, who is that?"
"I don't know, but 'Arry, they took Ginny."
"Who did?"
"I don't know. It all 'appened so fast."
"Are you okay?"
"That one makes a terrible travelling companion, but yes."
"We need to call the Aurors."
"Wait. No. Let's check over our friend here."
Harry nodded. Fleur always had been stronger than he, so accepting her wisdom on this, he knelt and searched through the man's pockets.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"Oui, I've scrambled his synapses a bit, but he will be fine."
In the inner pocket of his jacket Harry found a small envelop with some Gringotts bank notes. He patted down the rest of the man's clothes without any success.
"Just some money."
"Hand it here, 'Arry."
"Do we really want to rob this guy?"
"Silly, I want to do a tracing spell. I'll need my wand. I think I saw him throw it in the back seat."
Fleur open the passenger-side back door of the car and began searching. Harry turned away briefly to give her now prominent derrière some privacy.
"You did magic... without your wand."
"Of course I did. You do it too"
"Not that kind of magic."
"It just takes training. I think it is one of the weaknesses of 'Ogwarts advanced programs. Ahh, 'ere we go."
Fleur retrieved her wand and began to cast spells across three of the bank notes from their villain. The bills swept out of her hand and began floating deeper into the forest.
"Come, 'Arry. It would seem that the previous owner of this money is also in this forest."
"What about him?"
"Leave him. We'll be long gone and I've already marked him so the Aurors can find him later."
He wasn't sure he agreed that that was a good idea, but if whoever these people were had Ginny...
Harry sighed as he followed Fleur deeper into the unknown forest.
~ diffindo ~
"You must know something. What did that man tell you while he was driving here? What about the others?"
Harry had been clomping behind Fleur for what felt like an hour. Hermione had taught him a chronometer charm a while back but he wasn't sure he really remembered it well.
"I know a very little more than you do. He didn't share his name, but I named him Paul. He reminded me of a co-worker to mon père. I think the others were all unconscious. It happened fast."
"Mon père?"
"Sorry, I forgot you do not know the French. My Father."
"I never met your parents—during the Tri-wizard."
The three bank notes fluttered lightly in front of Fleur as she hesitated slightly.
"You would not have. My father does not approve of the cooperation between Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. He believes that Hogwarts created he-who-must-not—"
"Voldemort. You can just say it. He's gone."
"Yes, 'Arry, I know. Most Brits don't appreciate the name."
Harry nodded and Fleur continued.
"Papa always said 'It is not done.'"
"What isn't done?"
"Mixing. 'Arry, my father doesn't believe in any kind of mixing. Not Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, not muggles and wizards, not the near human magical species, no one."
Harry was pulled up short.
"I don't understand, isn't your mother...?"
"... half-veela, yes. He was so mad when he found out. She hid it from him, but when I was about six she could hide it in me no longer."
"But he stayed with you. He must not be all bad then."
Fleur sighed quietly.
"Divorce isn't done either, Harry. Not among families of good breeding."
Fleur finally stopped and turned back to face him.
"He's not a bad man. He just has... demons. Now, pay attention, Harry. We've been too—"
Fleur suddenly lurched forward and fell into an unconscious heap.
A black robbed and deeply hooded figure stepped out from behind a tree.
And then another.
~ diffindo ~
'Moriah never was anyone important. My entrance into her life was as unnecessary and involuntary as ever could be. She served ice cream. Or maybe it was yoghurt. I still don't know. And that is exactly how much she mattered to me until February 3 of my sixteenth year.
'I visited the shop where she worked about twice a week during that time. I wasn't there to seek her out. It wasn't a cheesy romance. In fact, I probably hadn't bothered to learn her name. This wasn't a pursuit; it was on the contrary, an escape.
'You know... I thought I was ready to take the sign of the Dark Lord. I had deluded myself that this was a route to power... to influence... to safety. Father had it all figured out. The Dark Lord was inevitable. Stay on the edge of his followers and don't dirty your hands. And when he solidified his power, the rewards would follow.
'But Voldemort did not tolerate half-hearts or fair-weather disciples. And thus the House of Malfoy circled Scylla falling ever toward the centre. Eventually, the darkness entered my home directly. It displaced everything that had been a family and replaced it with fear, loathing, and dishonesty. And this was before the torture and the death and the depravity. My home became his court of acolytes, each vying for favour and plotting the demise of his brother.
'I had been well prepared for this. It was perhaps the unwritten purpose that Salazar Slytherin spoke into the sorting hat during the founding. But with the snakes came the wolves. As the manor became a central hub for the new dark order, cleverness and politics gave way to brutality. This was not a realm I was well prepared for. Pugilism was to be left to the lessers.
'And thus I found myself sitting at a small table just inside the door of Florean Fortescue's #2. It wasn't as grand as the main installation in diagon alley, but the sweets were just as sweet.
'Mother had suggested I make myself scarce that morning. And she had been right, but underestimated the danger I was in. The danger that I posed to all around me that day. I had been inducted into the inner circle not a week prior. It had been... expected of me. And the Dark Lord's expectations were to be fulfilled. My novitiate status made me vulnerable to abuse.
'Its funny the little seemingly inconsequential decisions we make. So many go into a single day. How would Moriah have ever expected that such a small thing would take so much from her?
'Three of the brutes came into the shop. Dolohov, Rowles, Goyle—not Greg but rather his father. And they were truly out of place in such a whimsical space, but customers are customers, and while ringing up the last of their order, Moriah off handedly mentioned that it was her birthday.
'Rowles had given his signature creep sneer and told her she should have a party. The crew sat and ate their ice cream or maybe it was frozen yoghurt and got up to leave. One of them, Dolohov I think, yelled in parting to Moriah. "Have a nice birthday ya' virgin cunt, get fucked!"
'I don't know what I was thinking. I knew better, but for some reason in that moment and in that place I grew a fucking conscience. She didn't need or want my help, but maybe I was just tired of the condescending imbeciles and wanted to show them my status.
'I stopped them. Yelled something stupid. And told them to leave her alone. And that was it. They scowled and postured and threatened in a manner that told me they were saving face, but as far as I knew it was over. That was it.
'I went back to my dish of sweets and felt slightly silly for defending a witch of surely quite little status, but it was done. She didn't speak to me of it and I didn't speak to her. I didn't really think about her after I recovered from my embarrassment.
'I got up. Left a slightly larger than normal tip. And left.
'That wouldn't be the last time I saw Moriah, but it would be the last time I could close my eyes and not see her face...'
Draco paused his quill. This was all stage lighting. He'd drawn the curtains and dimmed the house lights. But nothing he'd written down as of yet meant anything. He'd debated harshly with himself the merits of being vulgar... of being euphemistic... of skipping parts... but this wasn't a school paper. This was a memory; and as such, he dedicated himself to putting down the rawest most biased most subjectively honest account. Because everything else would be rationalization.
~ diffindo ~
"Where's Fleur!"
Harry was bound at the arms again and being shoved through the forest. He'd been prodded away from Fleur's prone form in the clearing where they'd been ambushed by these Death Eaters. Because of course they were Death Eaters. Who else would want to attack him?
But why take Ginny.
The hooded cloak behind him only chuckled sinisterly. They didn't have far to go it seemed. A small clearing opened up ahead. The sun which had been all but blocked out broke upon the rough dirt and patchy grass and back lit the only figure not shrouded in robes.
Her crazed eyes were burned into his memory. Those were the eyes that killed Sirius.
"Bellatrix."
The response of evocative and mirthless laughter sent a chill down his spine.
Harry looked around. Was he really worth all these people?
"What do you want? Am I such a threat that you need so many? Where is Ginny?"
She threw her head back in exasperation.
"So many questions. Let's work back from your last to your first. Ginny is where I wish her to be. She is of some use the Dark Lord."
Harry nearly spat words back.
"Voldemort is dead!"
Bella's smile faltered. Her eyes flared in anger.
"You know nothing. The Lord is immortal in ways far beyond your understanding. You asked a question, I merely depraved myself to answer you. As to the many around you, you give yourself far too much credit. It only took one Death Eater handle you and your little Weasley sweety."
The hooded figures, which now stood in a rough circle closing him in, shifted slightly. Almost uncomfortably. Perhaps some could be convinced to do the right thing.
"I can get leniency for anyone who helps. My friends will find me."
"Harry, you poor naive boy... they already have."
Lestrange lifted her wand and lightly circled it in the air while Harry puzzled that riddle. The figures in the circle simultaneously and mechanically reached up and flipped their hoods back.
No.
Neville. Hermione. Dean. Hannah. So many of his other friends and classmates. They'd been at his party—laughing and carrying on. Now they looked empty.
"Don't look so slack-jawed, young Harry. It doesn't become you. And I told you, it only takes one Death Eater to end your little fantasy life. Did you really think you could escape the vengeance of the Dark Lord?"
Harry was lost. And he knew it. His friends were always there. Always... except when they weren't. He swallowed his dread and terror. This wasn't his first time on his own.
"Imperius?"
"It is such a useful spell. Not nearly as fun as the Cruciatus, but infinitely more effective. And your little army here was surprisingly easy to conquer. They hardly resisted me at all."
"You never answered my first question. What do you want?"
Bellatrix's crazed smile returned to her black lips.
"To rebirth the one true Lord of magic, Harry. What else?"
At this point, Harry was buying time. With all of his friends here, it was unlikely that anyone was coming. But not everyone from the party was represented among the zombies surrounding him.
Cho, Seamus, and Susan were missing. So was Bill. There had to be others but Harry's brain couldn't focus on that.
"How?"
"Ahh... shall I monologue for you. Let's give you some time to hope for rescue, right? I'm so sorry, Harry dear. I didn't leave any loose ends. Would you like to play a little game with me?"
Harry just stared her down. It was an obvious bait.
She pouted in response.
"Your no fun, but no matter. Death doesn't give up its spoil easily. It requires sacrifice. The bigger the better. And what bigger sacrifice then the life of a pure blood virgin witch..."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face.
"Now, Harry, there's that unattractive dumb looking mouth again."
"Ginny. That's why you want Ginny."
"It seemed the most appropriate way to seal your final doom. Poor girl, really. She seems to always get caught up in your mistakes. One might conclude her destiny was to suffer for you."
"Don't you touch her! She's done nothing to you."
"Nothing yet. She does have the most defiant little eyes. I would love to tear her apart to the sounds of her screaming. There is little difference between pain and ecstasy. But regrettably, to be of use she must remain alive... for now. And torturing the dead is so boring."
Bellatrix turned away walking from the clearing.
"You're a monster!"
"It won't be long now, Harry. Ready yourself. I won't let you die before you can see her blood flow free. Now, who should I have knock you senseless? Hermione, darling, please render the prisoner unconscious."
Harry turned to an advancing Hermione who pointed her wand.
"Quiesco."
~ diffindo ~
'That night I found out that I was to have a second phase of initiation as a Death Eater. I knew from experience the different parts that made a good initiation. My little club in Slytherin had its rituals. So I expected this to some degree. I'd made promises to the leader... sworn fealty. But I had not yet made any sign of mutuality with the group—my supposed peers.
'Allegiance, Brotherhood, Commitment. Those were the ABC's of establishing hierarchical loyalty. I'd been through the first, so this was likely the second. I'd been retrieved by Crabbe—not Vincent but his father—and taken to the home of the Goyles. Their home was familiar to me, but like my own the comfort had been leeched away and replaced with tension. I was led to the entrance of the sitting room and Mr. Crabbe took his leave, but not before giving me a look of sympathy. "You'll get through it," he had said.
'My first knowledge that something was truly wrong was when I entered through the double doors. You see, brotherhood is about the group. And initiation into the brotherhood would be everyone... or most... or at least several. But in this room there were three. They were all masked, but it was no secret who held my fate.
'Goyle was the first speak. Maybe he thought that I would be more comfortable with him, but now... looking back on it. I think he was just feeling particularly sadistic that night. He wanted me to feel safe and not because I was in any way actually safe. This wasn't a normal initiation and I dove into all I knew about subgroup politics. I wasn't ready.
'Dolohov cocked his head. He would be the mastermind of this. Rowle was a simple brute and Goyle was—I thought at the time—a decent man. "Draco... I admire you. Your confidence this morning was so brave. I wanted to be sure there would be no lasting bad blood between us. And you deserve a reward for your upstanding character."
'I kept my expression in check, but only with difficulty. I knew where this was going. This was no reward. I'd offended them and I was to suffer for it. The only thing that was important was not giving into them. I thought that losing standing among the Death Eaters was the worst that could happen in these short days since I'd sworn myself to the Dark Lord.
'I was wrong.
'Goyle had summoned a house elf. And asked him to bring in my gift. The elf had returned with a figure shrouded in feminine veils. I could see her trembling—she wasn't here willingly.
'Dolohov took one glance at her and pulled off the veil covering her head. "You see. It's perfect. You need a reward for being such a mighty good gentlemen and Moriah her needs a fun way to celebrate her birthday. And here you are together. Now, don't thank me, I know you wouldn't have presumed to seek each other on your own."
'Her gaze now freed from the veil sought reassurance in mine. I couldn't show her that. I was busy figuring out how to get her—and me—out of that house. This wasn't sanctioned by the Dark Lord. He was many things, but he wasn't a pervert. Not that kind of pervert. No, I had to keep my stony indifference.
'I'll spare you the stupid theatrics after that. It's what you expect. I was supposed to fuck her. I didn't know how he knew that I didn't want to—that it would sicken me to violate her. I was a Malfoy and above all but the most eligible of ladies. Other women were toys. That was the story anyway.
'They escorted us to a guest bedroom, nearly shoved me in after her, and closed the door with the parting shot of "Don't come out until your knob's wet." They were such disgusting creatures. But now—at least—she and I were alone.
'"Moriah, are you okay." She cowed slightly, but knocked up the courage to ask. "I don't know. Am I?" I tried to reassure her. She hadn't stopped trembling and she kept as distant from me as a small guest bedroom would allow. I tried the obvious, but the chamber flue had been disconnected from the network.
'"Do you know how to apparate?" She shook her head. "I don't think they will have left a way out. I don't know what they'll do if we try to come out without..." She cocked her head to imply the end of that statement. She was right. There was no way that she would be left to herself if Dolohov didn't get the satisfaction of ruining me.
'"We can pretend. You know. We'll just mess up our clothes and run in place to work up a sweat." I knew that wouldn't work. Magic spells had existed since the dark ages to confirm the consummation of coital relations. It was necessary to verify a future siring.
'At this point Moriah seemed more confident and assertive. I think she may have seen that I was not her enemy or perhaps more relevantly that I was useless to save her. She came over to me took a deep breath and said, "We could just do it. I don't want to. Not there's anything particularly wrong with you; I just... I'm not really ready."
'I was ready. I'd been ready for years. But not for Moriah and not for any casual fling. But she was right. This might be the easiest way out. I told myself then that she was pretty and that if she'd been born to a better family I could have called her beautiful. "If you think it would be the best way... if you're willing..."
She wasn't willing. It was a completely stupid thing to say. But she nodded. I wish she hadn't, I didn't want to, but I had offered now, hadn't I?
'She sat down on the bed and threw off a couple layers of veils. It became clear to me that she had nothing on underneath them. I awkwardly sat down next to her. Every day up to this point I had believed myself to be a natural and competent lover. That I would ravish and delight my partner with an easy confidence.
'I could not have been more wrong. I had been wrong about so much already. We sat there as the mantle clock ticked away the seconds of our lives. Neither of us was willing to actually break the boundary that kept acquaintances—because we couldn't be called friends—differentiated from lovers.
'She took a deep breath and looked down and said in almost a whisper, "It's okay." That broke my paralysis. If we were going to do this, then we were going to do this. I thought I knew what a man was supposed to do. Be aggressive. Own her. Make her know that she belonged to me.
'I lifted off my shirt and shirked my trousers. Moriah averted her eyes as I dropped my clothes to the floor. I insistently but gently pushed her down onto the bed. I could feel the contour of her breast through the thin remaining covers. I climbed astride her legs and slowly unwrapped her last layers.
'I hadn't had much experience with girls. Not that I would have told anyone about that. As far as my social circle was concerned, I'd bedded many ladies. But seeing Moriah naked before me did stir something in me. The slim slit of flesh that marked her entrance was fascinating. I could have done it. I swear I could have. And I wonder if it would have worked out better for her. But I felt her trembling and I saw the fear in her eyes and I felt the tension of her trying not to flee. And what little arousal I had within me fled. I was in bed with a naked girl. A simple commoner who was choosing to submit to me. And I proved impotent.
'It was hopeless then. I rubbed myself to try and create a reaction of some kind and when Moriah saw me doing that she finally gave in and began to cry. I climbed off her and the two of us sat back to back filled with shame. It couldn't have been very long. We were on a clock. She broke the silence at that point.
'"So what are we going to do?"
'I told her we were going to do what I originally suggested. We were going to get dressed and tell them that we were done and hope that no one bothered to check. She knew that was futile. She probably knew she had no way out from the beginning. I never asked her how they grabbed her. Whether anyone would be looking for her.
'There wasn't much else to be said. We got up and we dressed and we left the room.'
Draco paused again. His head fuzzed with confusion. His memory was good by training, but every day stole more details. She had said something to him as they left, but he couldn't remember it now. It had been important. It had nearly crushed his heart, and now that detail was gone. He turned back to his page.
'I wish I could tell you that our story had a happy ending. I told you what happened between us wasn't a romance. Looking back on it now, I think those few minutes forged a deeper bond between Moriah and I then I have had with anyone else. We were utterly and hopelessly dependent upon one another. But of course... I was the hallowed spawn of Malfoy. Moriah was just a... a whore.
~ diffindo ~
"Harry..."
...
"Harry!"
His head swam in a groggy blur.
"Harold James Potter!"
Harry jolted awake. He looked into the welcome smiling eyes of his best friend.
"Hermione."
She cocked her head with a quirky smile.
"It's time you got up sleepy head."
"I had the worst nightmare."
He put his hands down to push himself up from leafy loam of the forest floor. His mind took a beat to realize what was wrong with that. His anxiety leaped into his throat.
"Where are we, Hermione?"
"Don't be silly. We're in the forbidden forest. This is where we are to resurrect the Dark Lord, Harry."
"That's not funny."
Harry scrambled back from Hermione and to his feet. He looked beyond Hermione to a gathering of seven hooded Death Eaters. No... his friends. All hopelessly spelled against him.
"Hermione, we have to save Ginny."
Her face fell slightly.
"It is sad, Harry, but sacrifices for the greater good are sometimes very painful."
"Hermione, listen to yourself. You don't believe in sacrificing anyone for anything..."
Now Hermione looked mad.
"Like you have any right to judge me. You've never done anything but ignore her. Ginny loved you and you ignored her. You have no right to be sad about it. I'm losing a friend."
He wasn't getting anywhere. Why did he think he could talk someone out of an unforgivable curse.
"Ginny! Ginnnnnyyyyy!"
"Harry!"
He spun almost all the way around. She was here. And she could hear him. She had been lain upon a stone table of some kind and bound upon it in silver chain. He hurried over to her. No one stopped him.
"Hold on, Ginny. We'll get out of here."
"Harry, thank you. I was scared."
He tore and the chains. They were so small but would not break. Hermione came up behind him. A silly smile again plastered on her face.
"They are karmic chains. Attempting to break them will only cause them to drain life from her. Just accept it, Harry. Ginny has. She is very willing to give herself for the rising lord."
Ginny looked to Harry with fear and confusion.
"No, I'm bloody well not."
"Thank you, Ginny. You will be remembered for your sacrifice."
It seamed like Hermione and Ginny were the only ones 'awake'. Everyone else just stood like empty shells.
"Ginny, where is Bellatrix?"
"She left, but I couldn't see to where."
Hermoine chuckled horrifyingly.
"It isn't important, Harry. It's almost time."
At this, she looked skyward to the canopies of the trees above. Harry followed her gaze. A twisted sword was suspended, point down, approximately four meters above them. The blade was a deep non-reflective black. It was held by seven unnaturally stretched branches from seven different trees. The sun was high in the sky, but the clearing was unusually dark.
"Dusk must come before the next dawn, Harry."
The sun appeared to dim as though eclipsed.
"Diffindo!"
A branch holding the sword snapped. Harry glanced back down form the shaking sword where Padme Patil lowered her wand. He face was empty and uncaring. And then, unnaturally, she fainted to the ground.
Harry turned to Parvati whose arm was rising.
"No! Stop! Don't."
"Diffindo!"
The obsidian blade drop another few centimetres and so did the second Patil. Ginny voice cried out it mortal fear.
"Harry! Help me!"
Harry ran to Neville. He was the gentlest soul Harry knew.
"Neville, please stop. You're... you're going to kill Ginny."
He didn't respond at all. But he also did not raise his hand. Harry was startled by Hermione coming up from behind. He turned eyes upon her.
"You can't do this. You don't want to do this, Hermione."
"Neville knows how important this is, Harry. Why can't you understand?"
"Diffindo!"
Neville had cast his spell while his back was turned to Hermione.
"Diffindo!"
There wasn't any time for words. Three branches new held back Ginny's fate and spells were coming fast. Her voice came pleadingly clear to his ears.
"Harry! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! Don't let me die."
"Diffindo!"
Lavender Brown crumpled. Ginny screamed.
Shit! Harry charged Dean. He just had to stop one of them. He didn't hesitate. He slammed Dean to ground. He pulled back to deliver a viscous punch.
"Jesus! Harry, mate. Stop."
Harry looked into the Dean's eyes and more importantly Dean looked back. Harry hesitated for a moment and was rewarded with a nasty kick to middle mass. Harry gasped for breath, but threw himself back upon Dean.
"Diffindo!"
Harry didn't even see who dealt the penultimate betrayal. There was no room for error now. No time. He grabbed Dean's wand hand and slammed it viciously down. The wand fell free and Harry kicked it out of reach. Now he just had to hold Dean and there wouldn't be anyone to cast the last spell.
He heard Hermione yell. He looked back to where she stood near Ginny. The bound Weasley was visibly shaking in her unyielding bonds.
"Why do you resist, Harry? The Dark Lord is inevitable."
He'd forgotten about Hermione. She couldn't... could she.
"No! Don't do it, Hermione."
Harry let Dean go and sprinted for Hermoine.
Five meters.
She smiled sadly almost pityingly at him.
Four meters.
Her wand came up.
Three meters.
"Harry, help!"
"Diffindo!"
...
Somewhere deep in Harry's mind he knew two things. First, this was all too tidy. Too neat. Too orderly. Second, he would not face losing Ginny Weasley. This was no selfless concern for her, but rather an anchored fear of the pain it would cause him. None of this reached awareness. Not in those critical moments.
But nearer the surface he did see his fatal mistake. He hadn't grabbed Dean's wand. It had been lying right there. Without it, he wasn't anywhere close enough.
"Ginny!"
"Harry!"
Two meters.
He screamed into the air.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
But without his wand that spell was just a prayer.
"Wingardium... Leviosa..."
~ diffindo ~
'I had hoped that I could just walk her to the main flue in the sitting room—the one that would almost always be connected to the network—and send her on her way. Neither of us believed that would actually happen, but the only other way out was the front door and they would surely have it guarded. They had kidnapped Moriah. They couldn't let her out. I somehow realized that in the moment without realizing the obvious corollary.
'When we got to the sitting room they were waiting. And when they saw our dishevelled selves they cheered and smiled cruelly. I could almost have believed that Mr. Goyle and Rowles actually felt congratulatory to me, but I could see the malice in Dolohov's eyes.
'"Was she good? She was a virgin, I checked. Virgins are nice and tight, you know? Did you blow a healthy load her cunt. You might as well sow some of those noble and ancient oats, right?" I had a cocky smile on my face. I put it there very carefully. "I found her quite satisfactory."
'Rowles now mocked me in an overly emphasized accent. "I found her quite satisfactory." I didn't take the bait. I led her over to the hearth and announced in my most authoritative register that I would be seeing her off. Dolohov didn't flinch and, for a moment, I thought we might actually walk free of this. But then I found that the flue powder pot was empty. That didn't happen by accident. House elves would always keep the powder pot stocked.
'I turned back to Goyle who I hoped—in vain—was a decent man and declared what would normally sound absolutely stupid. "It would appear that you are running short of flue powder. Could you have your elf retrieve some?" Mr. Goyle dropped his smile, but it was Dolohov who clarified.
'"I apologize Master Malfoy, but you have misunderstood our arrangement. When we arranged for this one's entertainment tonight, we of course reserved for you the right of first spoils." Dolohov's smile was tight now. It appeared almost as tight as the knot in my stomach. Moriah clutched at my arm, but whatever strength she felt there was an illusion. I hadn't been allowed a wand, and I was sure the masked adults did have them. I was no physical match for all three. They had cleverly surrounded us.
'Mr. Goyle spoke next. "We understand you may be tired after your light tryst, so please feel free to excuse yourself to rest and we will see the young lady is taken care of." He sounded so reasonable. Like I should see that their planned gang rape was completely normal.
'But they were wearing masks. She needn't know who they were or where she was. They could have their fun and then let her go and she wouldn't have anything to go on. The only way she could implicate them was if I helped her, so—as I figured it—protecting her was nothing but a way to guarantee her death.
'Now, looking back on it, it was just an excuse. A cheap reason to save myself at her expense.'
'I hadn't lost the grin upon my face. I forced myself from her arm and turned to her. "It looks like you have more to do tonight." And I walked to the door. As I turned to close the door behind me, I saw Rowles shove Moriah onto her knees. And as he began to fiddle with his belt, I saw her turn the most hollowing eyes of betrayal upon me. It emptied me. I stood on that threshold and gazed at her one last time. Then I closed the door.
'I never saw Moriah again.'
Now Draco stopped and sniffed back at the tears he wished would flow but never had because he knew exactly what kind of monster lived in the centre of his soul. He was devoid of goodness.
'Her body was found three days later in the forest. She had been mauled so badly that the autopsy found no evidence of sexual assault and no evidence ever pointed towards foul play. The medicus determined she'd been caught out in the wild alone and been attacked by an animal. I have never moved past just how ironically apt a description of her death that was.'
Draco signed and dated the note. He would keep this to refresh his memory in case he ever deluded himself into believing that he could be redeemed. At the last moment he decided to add one more sentence just above his signature.
'Moriah never was anyone important—until she taught me who I was.'
~ diffindo ~
There was so much blood. It was everywhere. The sword jutted out of her torso and the red liquid of life oozed out upon the table pooling just inside the raised lip. Harry reached it far too late—only soon enough to see life drain from the pained eyes of Ginevra Weasley. She looked scared, betrayed. Like she knew he couldn't save her.
Death didn't look like it did in the films. There wasn't a calm closing of the eyes—a peaceful slip into the beyond. Harry had seen Cedric die of the killing curse. That had been far more merciful than this. Her body still convulsed and blood pulsed from her wound. She'd been silent since her final horrific scream as the sword had buried itself deep inside her torso. He grabbed her. He took a pulse... Nothing! Her blood smeared over his body.
She couldn't be dead. She wasn't dead. It was a trick. This was a trick. This was a bloody fucking farce and he was going to kill whoever had done it!
"Ginny, no..."
He felt a light touch on his shoulder. And a voice that should have provided comfort instead caused unimaginable pain. Its light almost lyrical lilt burned his heart.
"It over now, Harry. The sword was spelled. She died instantly. There was no pain. The hard part is over. Now we can begin the resurrection."
She wasn't going to die! But one thing was true for fuck's sure. It wasn't painless or instant. He turned to look at her. He wanted to feel compassion for his friend. To understand just how much emotional pain she would be in when this curse was lifted from her. But Harry felt too much injustice. Someone had to pay. Someone had to fix this. He would do anything to fix this. Because this was some kind of sadistic torture and it wasn't real and Ginny was fine because if...
And then the rage grew—it exploded inside him. It couldn't be contained. He did something that he would never quite be able to explain. Harry Potter drew back a fist and full out decked Hermione Granger in the face.
There was more blood. Now he had the blood of two friends on his hands. He had their blood on his fucking hands! Hermoine stayed on the ground. She was alive and hurt, but must have thought better than spouting any more nonsense about the third coming of the Dark Lord.
"Hermione. Bring her back. Heal her. And you can have me instead. The Dark Lord would like that. Wouldn't he, Hermione?"
She didn't look at him. She seemed preoccupied with blood on her hand from her nose. For the first time she seemed surprised and lost the sheen control.
"I never thought you would do that to her, Harry. I... Yes, Harry, the Dark Lord would prefer you, but that's not how magic works. For some reason the universe prefers the blood of women and not the blood of men. There's some fucked up feminism for you."
Harry now felt empty. Hermione was the only one he could talk to and she was under the thrall of Bellatrix Lestrange.
She wasn't dead. It was a trick, or there was still time, or he could take her place, or he would hunt down her murderer and he would finally cast his first killing curse.
"Avada Kedavra."
But, again, without his wand that spell was just another prayer.
He returned to the stone table. He didn't know what to do. What was he going to tell Molly? He'd promised to talk things over with her? He'd left her to deal with his own issues? And he'd never be able to fix it? She had her O.W.L.s to complete. Her scores would be terrible if she were dead.
He sat down, back to the stone table, and stared at the ground not seeing or hearing anything while his mind blurred at the inconceivable understanding of a future that didn't include Ginny.
A hand fell gently on his shoulder.
"Harry, I'm so sorry."
~ diffindo ~
"Mr. Breve!"
He calmed himself and collected his emotions.
"Michael, the Banríon guaranteed that I would be able to contact her at any time. She is not a prisoner and I have important news to share."
Michael was an odd choice for personal advisor and secretary to the red queen of Paradigm. He was young and somewhat awkward and, in this case, far too interested in rules.
"As you know, no Paradigm secret keeper may communicate outside of Avallen. That is written in the Paradigm itself. You are aware of that. We've been very clear that you may have contact within the boundaries of Paradigm Central when you join us here. As I understand you plan to arrive in the next two weeks. You may of course leave a message now if you wish."
He'd prepared for this. He'd been waiting and planning for more than fifteen years for this eventuality and having achieved it he was not willing to wait to contact her. He had sent her many notes over the years. But due to these rules, he had never once heard back from her. He had preprepared a sealed note to be delivered. He read it one more time before passing it into the flame.
Dear Elly,
You may have seen the news coming out the Prophet. If not, I will tell you that my obligations have recently reached consummation. I now yearn for the day that I may see you again. It will always weigh upon my heart the isolation that you now endure. Needless to say, my part in your story has been one of absence. I hope your son still grows strong. I have made arrangements to move within the walls of Paradigm City so that I might look forward to meeting you again. I know your heart never belonged to me... and I will accept it if that is still your wish. If, perhaps, your heart might have opened after its long closure, and if it has not been captured by another, and if you can stand to consider looking upon me as I have always looked upon you... so many years have gone by us.
Essus