The Battle of the Department of Mysteries, 18 June 1996
As Harry scrambled up, he looked around and saw Lucius Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now duelling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them.
"Harry, round up the others and GO!"
Harry seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps surrounding the dais. Neville's legs, still bewitched by the Dancing Feet Charm, twitched and jerked and would not support his weight; Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step.
A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel; it crumbled away and he fell back to the step below. Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket.
"Come on!" said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs—"
He gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam. The small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and, before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and Harry was certain it was going to smash against the step. But then:
"Accio prophecy!"
Millimetres from collision, the little glass sphere arced gracefully upward, over the furor of the battle, and landed in the upraised hand of a gleeful Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Neville, his face anguished, blood still streaming from his broken nose. His legs continued to flounder. "I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do—"
Pausing only to aim one final curse at Sirius, Bellatrix turned on her heel and bolted up the stone steps opposite. As the hem of her cloak whipped out of sight, Malfoy yelled, "We have the prophecy! Kill these fools and let us be gone!"
Before Malfoy could finish speaking, however, the door to the Brain Room flew open to reveal Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Dumbledore's spell effortlessly pulled all of the Death Eaters together at the foot of the dais, where they sat unmoving.
Harry hadn't stayed to watch. The moment Dumbledore had appeared, Harry had left Neville's side and sprinted after Bellatrix. Lupin, who had been crouched on the dais beside Sirius, tried to intercept him, but Harry evaded him and pounded up the steps. He shouldered through the door that Bellatrix had gone through, streaked across circular black hall of the Department of Mysteries, and saw Bellatrix disappearing into a lift at the far end of the hallway.
Moments later, Harry was in his own lift, hammering the Atrium button. He forced his way out of the lift before the grilles were fully open, wand outstretched, and yelled, "STUPEFY!".
Bellatrix, feet from the telephone box-lift that would allow her to escape the Ministry and disapparate, was forced to dodge aside. She whirled and pointed her wand at Harry.
Harry flung himself behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren to avoid the curse, covering his head in his hands as the golden centaur's arm and bow were sent spinning into the air by the force of her spell.
"Too late, too slow!" she jeered in her mock-baby voice. "Come out and play, little Harry!" Harry heard her edging back toward the phone box, and he shot another Stunning spell, forcing her to move away again.
This time, she stumbled, and before she could recover, Harry thought of all the pain he knew she had caused, and rage seized him. He straightened up, pointed his wand at her, and yelled, "Crucio!"
Bellatrix screamed. She fell to her knees, but almost immediately bounded back to her feet. "Pathetic!" she yelled, dropping the baby voice and apparently forgetting all about her planned escape. "Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy? You have to mean them. Let me show you!" Harry was too slow to drop back behind the fountain, and she cried, "Crucio!"
Pain ripped through Harry's body, and he crumpled sideways to the floor. The top half of his body was exposed from behind the fountain, and Bellatrix kept her wand on him. The pain was incredible; he felt as if his bones had been filled with liquid fire. He was twitching, and he dimly felt his breathing start to fail and his mind begin to come apart. It was too much, too much and he was going to go mad under Bellatrix's wand just like Neville's parents.
Then, just as Harry thought that the pain could not get any worse, he felt his scar begin to burn, and somehow it cleared away the other aches. He felt a surge of triumph that was not his own, and he opened his streaming eyes to see Voldemort standing with a hand on Bellatrix's shoulder. She had fallen to her knees, holding up the prophecy to her Master as though in supplication. He took it in his pale, long-fingered hand.
"At last…" Voldemort hissed. "At last I will know the truth."
"Master," Bellatrix whispered, "Master, you should know—he is here— he is below…"
But Voldemort ignored her, his snakelike face rapturous as he stared at the prophecy he held in his long, white fingers. He turned toward Harry.
"And yet, now it seems as if the knowledge will prove unnecessary, for here you are in front of me, Potter. Avada kedavra!"
Harry struggled to move, to force his aching muscles into cooperation before it was too late, when he found himself sliding backwards. Voldemort's emerald-green curse hit the ground uselessly where Harry had been lying as Harry himself slid to a stop beside the lifts.
"What?" Voldemort shrieked. Then he said, in barely more than a whisper, "Dumbledore!"
The grille of the lift Harry lay in front of opened, and Dumbledore stepped carefully past him.
"It is too late, you doddering old fool!" Voldemort cackled, "The prophecy is mine!"
"It was foolish of you, to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way."
"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" Voldemort spat.
Harry struggled to his feet and fired a Stunning spell at Voldemort. Voldemort vanished and reappeared on the other side of the partially-destroyed fountain. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the statues in the fountain, which burst into life and scattered. The witch and the goblin charged at Bellatrix, while the wizard and the centaur launched themselves toward Voldemort, trying to grab them and pull them to the floor. The house-elf statue scuttled to the side, away from the battle, and Harry lost sight of it.
Harry raised his wand again, and looked straight into Voldemort's red eyes. Before Harry could cast another spell, however, his forehead exploded with agony, and he collapsed. The pain was somehow even worse than Bellatrix's Cruciatus Curse had ever been, so terrible it blinded him, so hideous he barely noticed the cold floor against his skin, and through the pain, Harry felt his lips form words as Voldemort spoke through his mouth.
"Here I am, Dumbledore. Kill me. Kill me, if you have the nerve, and it can all be over."
It was too much, Harry couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't feel anything except pain that was so all-consuming he could not remember anything else, and in that moment Harry would have welcomed death; would have greeted death like an old friend who had come to take him to see his parents again…
As Harry that thought settled in Harry's mind, the feeling of the pain changed. The agony was no less at first, but it now felt wistful and almost bittersweet. Then he heard a high-pitched scream, and the pain began to recede. He could feel the wooden floor again, could hear the noises of people. Too many people. What had happened?
"Harry?"
Harry's vision cleared and Dumbledore's long, crooked nose swam into focus. He blinked, and tried to focus on his headmaster's eyes.
"Are you all right?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Yes," Harry tried to say, but he was shaking so badly he couldn't get up. "What happened, sir? Where's Voldemort?" His head fell to one side, and he saw that Floos were open all along the walls of the atrium. The little golden statue of the house elf was leading Cornelius Fudge toward them.
"He was there!" shouted a man with a ponytail, the sleeve of his emerald robes trembling as he pointing toward several piles of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, one marking where Voldemort had stood against the wizard's and centaur's charge, the other where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was panting as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard—here!—in the Ministry of Magic! Great heavens above! It doesn't seem possible. My word—how can this be?"
"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore quietly, standing up and walking forward so that the newcomers realised he was there for the first time. A few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed. "You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."
"Dumbledore!' gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. 'You—what are you doing—?"
He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men and win again!" Dumbledore thundered. "But just a moment ago you saw proof with your own eyes that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned. You have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months. It is time you listened to sense!"
"I—don't—well—" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he snapped, "Very well. Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see… Dumbledore, you will need to tell me exactly…" his voice trailed off as he stared around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard, goblin, and centaur were now scattered. The demand ended as a whimpered question. "…What happened?"
"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, turning back toward Harry, who was still lying on the floor.
"Harry—Harry Potter?"
Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, whom he had apparently just noticed.
"He—here?" said Fudge, goggling. "Why—what's all this about?"
"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."
He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor after Voldemort had blasted it off. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.
"Now see here, Dumbledore! You haven't got authorisation for that Portk—" Fudge trailed off at Dumbledore's look.
After a moment, Dumbledore turned back to Harry and handed him the golden head. Harry took it. "This will take you back to my office in thirty seconds, Harry. I shall see you there in half an hour, at most."
Harry held the Portkey, still unable to get up, as Dumbledore addressed Fudge again with a list of demands, including Umbridge's removal and Hagrid's return, but his attention was already drifting when he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and the Atrium had vanished in a whirlwind of noise and colour…
(Adapted from Chapter 35 "Beyond the Veil", Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)
The Battle of Hogwarts (2 May 1998)
Harry found himself facedown on the ground with Dumbledore's last words still ringing in his ears. "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
The smell of pine needles filled his nostrils, and he could feel the cold ground beneath his cheek. The hinge of his glasses, which had been knocked sideways when he collapsed, cut into his temple. Every inch of him ached. The place where Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch, and he could not move at all. He could hear footsteps and whispers from the direction where Voldemort had stood to curse him, and he heard as well Bellatrix nearly moaning over Voldemort, until a high voice cut across her.
"I do not require assistance. The boy…is he dead?"
Harry began to panic as the attention of everyone in the clearing focused on him, and when Voldemort sent Narcissa Malfoy to examine him, he thought he must surely be discovered, but found that he could move only his eyes. She felt his chest, and he knew his heart did not beat. She held fingers before his mouth, and he knew no breath passed his lips. But then she gazed into his eyes, and he knew she saw life in them.
"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" she asked, in a whisper so faint, even Harry almost could not hear her. "Raise your eyes if he is, and keep them there so they do not see."
Last Harry had seen, Draco was incapacitated, but safe within Hogwarts' walls. He obediently rolled his eyes upward behind his unmoving lids. He heard Narcissa exhale with relief, then cry out "He is dead!" The Death Eaters roared with triumph in response.
"You see?" Voldemort shrieked. "I have killed Harry Potter, and now I am truly invincible! Crucio!" Harry's body was flung into the air by the force of Voldemort's curse, but the expected pain did not come. He felt nothing at all, and he still could not move his limbs or make himself breathe as his body thudded back to the ground.
Voldemort arranged a procession, with Nagini twined around his neck and Hagrid shuffling behind him carrying Harry's body. The Death Eaters marched back toward the castle in triumph. Voldemort magnified his voice and called ahead, "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.
"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters, my Death Eaters outnumber you, the Order of the Phoenix is all but gone, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, along with every member of their families. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. The time has come to establish a new order under Lord Voldemort.
"Now, Hagrid, lay the body here at my feet where he belongs. Mobilicorpus!" Harry felt himself rise off the ground, hovering limply. His body still would not move, and his head lolled forward. Voldemort made no attempt to correct this, and each time he gestured with his wand, Harry's body would soar in that direction before jerking to a halt, like a grotesque puppet.
As the Death Eaters approached the castle, the defenders of Hogwarts came out onto the grounds to face them. Harry heard Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and McGonagall all cry, "NO!" at the sight of him. He wished he could call out to them, reassure them somehow that all was not yet lost, but he still could not move. Worse, even if he could move, the motion would surely draw the Death Eaters' attention as well. Still, being paralyzed frayed his nerves, and he began to wish that he were still unconscious instead of in this strange in-between state.
The defenders roared and jeered at the Death Eaters, and Harry saw Sirius start to raise his wand. Voldemort waved the Elder Wand and cast a Silencing Charm. Into the sudden, enforced quiet, he screeched, "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"
Then Ron yelled back, "He beat you!" and the spell broke. Shouts rose again, and Voldemort tried to silence the crowd by magic for a second time, but to no avail. The crowd began to push forward, and Harry saw that Neville was out in front, his wand outstretched, with the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army ranged behind him.
"Enough!" Voldemort screeched, and with another flick of the Elder Wand he silenced the crowd again and paralyzed Neville. "You, here, who led them. Who are you?"
Bellatrix cackled, "It is Neville Longbottom, the son of the Aurors! The boy who has been giving Snape and the Carrows so much trouble!"
"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort. "Will you persist in your folly, Neville Longbottom? Or will you stand forth and join the ranks of my Death Eaters. You are a pureblood; to kill you would be such a waste…"
His voice trailed off, leaving no one in any doubt that no matter what he said, he cared nothing one way or the other. Yet another flick of the Elder Wand, and the Sorting Hat came soaring out of the window of the Headmaster's study to land in Voldemort's outstretched hand. He forced the Hat onto Neville's head.
Then he shrieked, "Soon, you will see the fate of those who oppose Lord Voldemort! You, Neville Longbottom, can choose to join me, or become an example of what will happen to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost.
"I shall place Harry Potter's body in the marble tomb with that of your old hero Dumbledore, and destroy them both! You will have no more heroes, symbols, or martyrs!"
As he spoke, Harry's body floated over toward the tomb. Harry, still quite frozen, could only stare down in horror at the rent in the marble casing where Voldemort must have retrieved the Elder Wand.
Neville, visibly fighting the Body Bind curse cast on him, bellowed in Voldemort's face, "I'll join you when hell freezes over!" He wrenched his arm upward, pointed his wand straight up, and shot a shower of silver sparks into the air. "Dumbledore's Army!"
The surrounding crowd sent their own sparks to join his with a deafening cheer. Voldemort's mouth twisted in fury. He jabbed his wand at Neville, and caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.
The rest of Dumbledore's Army surged forward, and the Death Eaters raised their wands in response. Neville, still a mere foot away from Voldemort, tore free of the Body Bind Curse entirely, swept the burning hat off his head, reached inside, and pulled out something with a shining silver blade and a glitter of red at the handle.
Gryffindor's sword swung with a great slash in Neville's hands: out of the hat, directly toward Voldemort as if trying to take off the Dark Lord's head. Voldemort jerked backward in surprise, causing Harry to move safely away from the blade's arc, and at the same time, Nagini reared back to strike at Neville. The sword passed through the thick snake's neck with no resistance, and it thudded to the ground in two pieces.
Voldemort screamed in fury, pointing his wand at Neville, but Neville parried the Killing Curse with the blade. The metal shuddered angrily, and there was a loud, clear note like a bell, but the moment Voldemort's attention was divided, Harry started to sink from where he was floating in the air over the tomb, down toward the jagged hole in the stone. Terror seized him, but nobody was paying any attention to what they thought was his lifeless body as the battle began to rage anew.
Sirius aimed a curse at Lucius Malfoy, who ducked and flung away his wand. He took Narcissa by the hand and they sprinted away from the killing field shouting, "Draco!"
Kingsley and McGonagall leapt forward at once to back up Neville. Hermione and Ginny both fired hexes at Dolohov. Hagrid, still in the midst of the Death Eaters, reached down and lifted McNair bodily, then flung him against the castle wall. He fell to the ground limp, and did not get back up. Percy cursed Rookwood so thoroughly that all his joints bent the wrong way. Behind Percy, George and Lee Jordan leapt forward as one, and slammed Yaxley and Selwyn to the ground. Flitwick, who had hurtled to the top of the castle steps, stood in a loose ring with several Hufflepuff students, to prevent the werewolves led by Greyback from dashing into the Great Hall where they could attack the injured.
And at the center of it all, Voldemort duelled three opponents at once: Sirius, Kingsley, and McGonagall. All of them were fighting their hardest, but Voldemort was equal to all of them. Right next to them, Bellatrix stood face-to-face with none other than Molly Weasley. Bellatrix at first let out a cackle of mad laughter at the sight of her plump, middle-aged challenger, but at the first swipe of Molly's wand, Bellatrix's smile twisted into a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, and patches of flame erupted from the ground around their feet.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted, leaping over a jet of light that left a metre-long gouge in the dirt behind her.
"You will never—never!—touch our children again!" Molly screamed. Bellatrix started to laugh again, but the sound cut off in a wet, strangled gasp. Molly's second curse had not missed, and Harry could see Mrs. Weasley's livid face through the bloody ruin of what had been Bellatrix's chest, before the body collapsed.
Voldemort screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the thunderous roar of an oncoming crowd larger than either the Hogwarts Defenders or the Death Eaters. Harry's last sight as his eyes slipped at last into the marble tomb was Charlie Weasley and Horace Slughorn leading a crowd of hundreds toward the battle.
As he slipped down into darkness, he heard Voldemort shriek "To me, my Death Eaters!" in a magnified voice, but the stone walls of the tomb sheltered him from the sound and sights. The noises of the battle faded away, and it seemed that the light visible through the cracked tomb was receding, and the stench of death rose up around him.
(Adapted from Chapter 36 "The Flaw in the Plan", Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)
A/N: [Story revised as of 12/18/2014]: This comprises the original first two chapters, which are collectively the prologue acting as an introduction to this particular AU. You'll see several points of divergence; this is intentional and they will be followed up on. Thanks for reading.