AN: Buckle up kiddos, this is gonna be a wild ride of a chapter.
Chapter 91 - "You're one of us."
Circe looked herself up and down in the reflection of the dirty glass.
She'd never seen herself in full Death Eater garb; She was covered head to toe in a midnight black robe, so deep and dark that it was as if she was cloaked in shadow. The hood sat over her head, smothering her bronze curls, and a pair of fingerless leather gloves adorned her hands. The face that stared back at her, however, was chrome silver. A Death Eater's mask.
She hated the sight of it.
Circe tore it from her face as a cold sweat pricked at her brow. Her breathing became fast and panicked and she watched as the mask started to shake in her hands.
"You don't have to do this." A firm voice said at her back.
She turned around to see Severus standing at her side, clad in an identical uniform to hers. Her eyes flicked to the mask he held in his own pale hands and she gulped. Circe looked around the deserted warehouse nervously, at the other robed and masked Death Eaters making their final preparations for the mission. It was impossible to tell who was who; they all looked uniform in their awfulness. Their terrifying, fearsome, frightfulness. One of them was Bellatrix, Yaxley, Rodolphus... Some swooshed around in their shadowy cloaks, their chrome masks winking in the fading light of the day as others tended to their brooms and quietly practised the hexes they wanted to use that night…
"I'm fine." She said dismissively, but Severus shot her an unconvinced frown.
"You've been acting strange ever since we sent Dung off." He said quietly.
Mundungus had been under the imperius curse for the best part of a week. Circe had been forced to keep him in the same hotel room where she'd stashed away Herriculus in a semi-conscious, imperioed stupour. All whilst her and Severus had tried to hammer out a plan for that Sunday. It had been all too easy to implant their ideas into Mundungus's mind. To send him toddling off back to Moody with the plan they wanted him to put forwards to The Order. And Severus's control of Dung's mind had been so adept that he'd left the B&B on Dartmoor completely believing that he'd come up with it all himself. No memory of his capture, no memory of his night of torture and humiliation in Malfoy Manor, no memory of his week in a half-comatose state bunking with Herriculus, no memory of Circe and Severus.
"The plan of the seven Potters", as her and Severus had come to call it, had formed from out of the recesses of their minds. It was quite ironic, Circe later realised; having Potter "split" seven times, just like the Dark Lord had been split seven times into his Horcruxes. But in the case of Voldemort, seven people had been murdered to preserve his life, Harry's friends would do it out of love.
They'd let Mundungus loose on a small and unremarkable street in central London, lifting the last of the imperius curse off him. Circe and Severus had hid in a nearby cafe, watching Dung as he gradually regained his full consciousness. A red London bus drove in front of him, impeding their view of him, and when the bus drove by, he was gone. Straight off to wherever The Order met now. But as the two of them shared a brief sigh of relief, they realised they'd have to tell Voldemort, and the other Death Eaters due to serve in the ambush that night, something different…
"I haven't flown on a broom, in the open sky… ever." Circe muttered back to Severus.
Her statement was true, if not entirely the reason why she was nervous that night. Circe had only ever flown in Quidditch pitches, and something about flying in a vast expanse of open space made her feel strange.
"Well, you're the Quidditch expert. Voldemort will think it a tad strange if he notices that you're afraid of flying in the open. Especially considering we're meant to have formulated this plan..." He leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear. "Remember Circe, Voldemort believes that the plan we planted into Dung's mind is to have Potter extracted in the style of a Quidditch scrum. He'll be expecting The Order to protect him on the backs of brooms, surrounding him like a…. Oh, what did you say?"
"Like a Chaser trying to score a quaffle throw. Him in the middle, the rest of the "team" surrounding him to protect him from bludgers and tackles from the opposing team." She added, nodding quickly.
The "seven Potters" will be a complete surprise to Voldemort. She thought to herself. And if all goes to plan, Harry should escape tonight in the confusion that follows.
Severus and her would have to feign ignorance after the failure to capture and kill Harry that night. They'd have to lie and say that the plan they'd implanted into Mundungus's mind must have been disregarded by The Order. That Dung had been ignored or was distrusted by them. Circe knew that Voldemort's anger may turn on her and Severus after tonight, but if it meant Harry lived past this day, if he escaped Voldemort's ambush and evaded his plans to slaughter him, it was worth it.
"Have the Dursleys left Privet Drive yet?" She asked, eager to steer the conversation away from her obvious nerves.
"They were still packing their things up the last time our spies were able to get close enough." Severus said levelly.
"Our" spies. Circe thought with a sigh. She looked around the room at the small handful of Death Eaters milling about in their dark preparations. These are "our" people now. We've been locked in the cage with all the rats.
The warehouse they found themselves in was utterly deserted. A hollow shell of concrete and dirt on the outskirts of central London. Circe had told Severus that it had been used in several music videos, including one for The Modfather himself, and it was, apparently, quite a famous London landmark. Severus had taken Circe's word for it… He was happy to let her teach him as a means by which to distract herself from her building apprehension of that night.
Four columned chimneys loomed over their heads, visible to them through the roofless building they stood in. Circe looked up into the vast sky as the first few drops of rain fell on her head. She sighed again.
"Ugh. As if this night isn't going to be bad enough…"
"You did volunteer to be here." Severus said reproachfully.
"I know. It's just…" she paused, darting her eyes about the room again. "… the thought of Bella and Rodolphus and Yaxley and Crabbe and Goyle, all of them being out there with… them…"
Severus didn't need her to say who "them" was. It was all those she still cared for: Tonks, Remus, Harry, Hagrid… Minerva might also be in attendance, as well as Harry's fellow Gryffindors, Hermione and Ron.
"I had to be here." She said resolutely. She gritted her teeth and looked at the mask in her hands. "I had to."
Circe faced the dirty glass window again, just able to see the outline of her reflection in the darkening light. Reluctantly, she placed the mask over her face, becoming just one of the many identical faceless demons in that abandoned warehouse that night. When her mask was fitted, she looked at Severus through the narrow eye slits and nodded to him. He looked back at her for a silent moment, his face betraying a flicker of the deep sadness and regret he felt inside. He had never wanted to see her in a Death Eater's mask. Never.
He dropped his eyes and let out a long sigh. Circe watched him too as he positioned his own mask over his face. Once, a long time ago it seemed, she had fantasised about Severus in that mask. A time when the image before her had swam in her eyes when her fingers had explored the spot between her legs. Now, she found the reality of it left a bitter taste in her mouth. They stared back at one another, two identical figures, yet a small show of love and affection passed between them as Severus reached for her hand. Circe's heart ached as he gripped her palm tight. She squeezed back. Their chrome faces were expressionless, but the strength of their grips on one another displayed all the fear and trepidation they felt within. Their hands parted and Severus turned from her.
"Time to go!" He shouted to the other Death Eaters.
As one, they all turned to him and nodded silently back. Circe summoned all of her scant courage and moved to find her ride for the evening. The others mounted their brooms, kicking off the hard concrete floor and disappearing into the rain-smattered sky one by one. Each of them left the floor of the warehouse with a whoosh of magic. Severus swung an uneasy leg over his own broom, catching Circe's eye as she positioned hers between her legs.
"Oh…" she muttered under her breath.
She'd been so caught up in her own head, she hadn't even thought of Severus's broom-riding skills. Or lack thereof. She had been a well-seasoned Quidditch player in her younger days. Severus, on the other hand… she doubted Snape had flown for longer than the mandatory flying lessons they were all forced to do at Hogwarts.
"Are you gonna be alright?" She asked, her face forming into a concerned frown underneath her cold, silver mask.
"Don't worry about me. Just concentrate on the mission." He said dismissively.
Circe thought about saying something. She considered telling Severus that of course she was going to worry about him if she thought he was going to fall off his damn broom… But she merely sighed, wishing Severus had told her that he wasn't a confident flyer. Perhaps if he'd mentioned it at all in the past week, they could have come up with an alternate plan. One that included Potter being smuggled to safety on land perhaps… But before she could think of anything to say, Severus kicked off from the ground and shot up into the sky. Circe cast her eyes skyward, watching tentatively as Snape's broom wobbled a little as he headed for the cover of the rain clouds. She shook her head slowly and took off after him.
Raindrops clinked against her mask as she soared into the sky. Adrenaline thrummed in her veins, her breaths became hot and fast. She was the last of the Death Eaters to leave the abandoned warehouse behind and join the small squadron in the sky. Circe kept her head low against the shaft of her broom to pick up speed. London grew smaller and quieter beneath her as she flew up and up and up, close behind Severus. She could hear none of the city's traffic and noises by the time she reached the clouds. A heavy mist surrounded her vision when she entered the raincloud and she lost sight of Severus entirely. It felt cold against her hands, and her clothes instantly seeped through with chilling water, but in the next moment, she'd broken the cloud bank and was hovering instead in a beautiful, clear sky. She gasped. Coming to a complete halt in the still, serene quiet. The great expanse of stars above her took her breath away. Diamond jewels set in a deep velvety curtain. It was heaven. Laid out above her in infinite shining beauty. She'd never flown this high up before. Never seen the stars this close before…
But her view was spoiled by the regrouping gaggle of Death Eaters hovering on their brooms nearby.
Oh God, which one of them is Sev? Circe thought, casting her eyes about the identical chrome masks in front of her.
"Circe!" One of them called out to her, waving her over. As his waving hand left his broom, it wobbled a little precariously and he hastily gripped it again to regain his balance.
Oh, there he is…. She thought anxiously, recognising him not by his rich, deep voice but from his apparent underconfidence in flying. Her heart gave a small pang of worry.
"Little Whinging is roughly thirty miles that way." She heard Severus instruct the others as she flew over to join the group.
Severus pointed to a small break in the clouds, to the West of where they currently were. He returned his grip to his broom handle quickly again as it began to wobble. Circe felt her arms tense up with anxiety. She'd have to keep a careful eye on Severus too tonight, to make sure he didn't fall to his death…
"If we wait in the airspace above the town," Severus continued, his voice showing no sign of unease. "The Order will almost fly straight into our midst as soon as they take off."
"And the Dark Lord?" another faceless Death Eater asked. Circe thought it sounded like either Crabbe or Goyle.
"He shall join us when he is summoned by us." Severus replied. "We are to call to him through our Dark Marks when Potter's sighting has been confirmed."
"Are you sure you'll be able to take both hands off your broom to touch your Dark Mark, Snape?" A cruel voice taunted from behind another hauntingly expressionless mask. "Or should we have installed training stirrups on yours?"
Circe glowered at them. Well, that one's Bellatrix.
"Shut it, Bella. Otherwise you'll be the one who needs training stirrups after I break both of your legs." Circe growled.
A smattering of amused laughter ripples through the other Death Eaters.
"Smith, that's enough!" Severus barked at her with more venom in his voice than she'd ever heard from him. It made her wince. "I will not tolerate fighting amongst us on my mission."
Circe knew that he was putting on a front for the other Death Eaters. Portraying himself as ruthless and cold in front of them to make them believe he was the hardened War-spy that everyone said he was. But even still, Circe couldn't help but feel scolded. Especially when Crabbe and Goyle began to titter and nudge one another in the ribs with delight.
"Lover's squabble." Crabbe said with a harsh chuckle.
"That's why I'd never have my woman on a mission like this…" Goyle muttered to his pal under his breath, but still loud enough that everyone could hear him. "Just in case she needed… reminding of her place… in front of everyone."
Their duo chrome masks turned a fraction of an incline to Circe. She could almost feel the twisted, cruel smiles underneath them, pointed at her.
"Well, if any woman's "place" is underneath you, Odoacer Goyle, then no wonder she wants to escape it." Circe spat back.
The other Death Eaters broke into another round of vicious laughter again.
"Silence!" Severus roared.
He wheeled his wand-arm in a huge arc over his head and Circe felt the whoosh of air and a deafening crack sound off an inch above her head.
She screamed and ducked low. The whole Death Eater squadron fell silent.
Circe's hands were shaking when she sat up slowly, raising her head.
He… he disciplined me. In front of everyone.
"Death Eaters…" he breathed in the pregnant, breath-holding silence that had settled between them. "Move out."
One by one the squadron flew off Westwards, making for the break in the clouds Severus had pointed to. But Circe thought she saw the slightest hint of amusement, of triumph in the posture of the faceless Death Eater she had deduced to be Bellatrix. Her shoulders were high, her head tilted backwards with pride. She didn't need to laugh as she flew away. Circe knew Bellatrix had found her public disciplining wonderfully amusing.
When it was just the two of them again, Severus
turned to her and muttered a low "Circe, I'm sorr-"
But before he had finished his apology to her, she went whizzing past him with her teeth gritted and her face hot and red with embarrassment underneath her mask. She heard him gasp a little and grasp at his broom as the speed of her almost sent him toppling.
"Don't fall off your broom." She grunted back at him, before she flew off after the other Death Eaters.
As soon as they dipped below the cloud-bank again, the rain was back. Circe shivered, clasping at her broom with her red, throbbing hands as they all waited. Waited in their little pack like a hovering band of vultures. Little Whinging was splayed out beneath her in the dark. Rows upon rows of modern-build houses, all basked in the orange glow of the street lamps. It was almost like staring down into another kind of night sky; the lights from the televisions, the cars, the lit-up rooms, all seemed to sparkle and shine like the constellations above her. A constellation set into the ground.
Any one of those stars beneath her could have been Privet Drive.
Any one of the shining dots down there could have been a light from Harry, or Tonks, or Remus, or Moody, or Kingsley, or Molly…
Circe felt the presence of someone fly to her side. She bowed her head low, letting the rain run rivets down the underside of her mask. She didn't want to look at Severus.
"Any sign?" He asked in a low voice.
She shook her head silently.
They remained in quiet observation for a while longer, both of them scanning the streets, looking for the tiniest hint of life.
"There!" A voice called out suddenly.
Circe and Severus both looked to their right, at another Death Eater in the squadron, his black- robed arm pointing down into a street beneath them. They followed his finger and saw a miniscule flash of movement in a street to the north of where they waited. Circe squinted into the rain. She could just about make out a flap of black, leathery wings… One or two people moving about in the street… And if she strained her ears…
Is that… a motorbike?
"It's them." Severus said somberly. "Hold your positions!" He roared to the twitching and restless Death Eaters. "Stick to the mission brief. The plan is an aerial ambush. If we attack now, they might spook and scatter."
The Death Eaters shared a look with each other, all of them daring one another to break formation and swoop in for the attack. Severus looked at all of them with fierce authority, his eyes locking them into position like Medusa turning her victims to stone. After a tense few moments, they held their positions. And the waiting continued.
"I count seven so far." Snape said to Circe quietly.
Circe tapped her wand to her temple and whispered "Oculus Telescopo."
Kingsley, Arthur, Tonks, Hagrid, Lupin, Bill and Moody. She totted up in her own head, just about able to tell them apart once she'd cast the small enhanced perception charm on her eyes. She could see them all quite clearly now: climbing onto brooms, mounting Thestrals, sliding into the driver's seat of a motorbike… The spell faded from her eyes and she shook her head.
"Seven." She whispered. "Which means that Dung's "plan of the seven Potters" must have-"
"'Ere look! What the bloody hell is going on?!" A Death Eater to their right hollered.
A nervous chatter broke out amongst the hovering Death Eaters and Circe shared an uneasy look with Severus, before tapping her wand to her forehead again and casting the eye-charm once more.
A small gaggle of seven different Harry Potters sauntered into her sights. All of them spilling out of the front door of Privet Drive like they were the punchline in some strange comedy routine.
The sounds of confusion and dissent grew louder amongst the Death Eaters hovering in the sky:
"B-but… which one's the real him?!"
"Who's the true Potter?!"
"Where is he?!"
"You told us their plan was to try and extract Potter in a Quidditch formation!" One of them snarled at Severus. "What do you call this?!"
"How do we know any of them are the real Potter?!" another barked at him.
"It could be a distraction."
"How will we know when to summon the Dark Lord?!"
Severus sent another sharp crack of magic through the air and that time, it wasn't just Circe who winced. Instantly, they fell silent once more.
"If you could all kindly refrain from panicking like a disturbed nest of garden gnomes…!" Severus hissed at them through clenched teeth. "We must adapt. Change to accommodate this development."
Circe allowed herself a small smile underneath her mask. Her and Severus had, of course, expected this surprise. The others, on the other hand, were most likely panicking over the multiple Harrys they'd just seen. They all believed the plan was falling apart. To Circe and Severus, the plan was going just the way they wanted…
The Order took off one by one, each of them taking to the sky with their Harry beside them. Every Death Eater had their eyes on them as they flew into the black and rainy night, itching to be given the go-ahead and attack. To be let off the leash like blood-hounds after their kill.
"We will all split up." Severus continued hastily, his voice commanding and authoritarian. "Crabbe, Goyle, you tail Shacklebolt. Selwyn, you pursue the Weasley boy. Travers, you shall take Moody. Yaxley, you will follow Weasley the Elder. Lestranges-"
"I'm taking my filthy half-blood niece." Bellatrix replied swiftly.
No!
Circe's blood went cold. Severus and her had agreed that Circe would be the one allocated to Tonks that night, to try and keep her friend out of danger. But Circe barely had time to voice her alarm before Bellatrix went flying off into the rain-soaked night. Her husband compliantly followed close behind.
But once Bellatrix had broken formation, that was it. All the other Death Eaters couldn't contain themselves any longer. Now Bellatrix had left, they lept into action and went whooshing off after their allocated targets before Severus could fix them in his stony sights again.
Everything had changed so quickly. Their perfect plan had fallen apart in seconds. All because Bellatrix had charged into battle without waiting for their carefully thought-out instructions.
"I suppose that now means I'll have to tail Lupin and you'll have to go after Hagrid." Severus said to Circe, trying to sound calm.
"No, no, no… Severus, she can't go after Tonks. She'll kill her!" Circe replied desperately.
"Circe, concentrate! Tonks and Lupin will most likely stick close together tonight. If I'm on Remus, I'll try and do my best to protect them both from Bella." Severus said, looking her squarely in the eye. "Meanwhile, you will have to keep an eye on Harry. The real Harry."
"You can't fly like them, Sev!" She shouted back. "How are you gonna keep Tonks and Remus safe when you can barely stay on your own broom?!"
"I told you not to worry about me!" He roared into the rain. "It's Harry you need to worry about. He must be protected at all costs! They cannot figure out which one of them is the real Harry, otherwise… Otherwise they will call the Dark Lord forth. And I don't want to imagine how this night will play out if Voldemort is added into this mess…"
Circe couldn't formulate words. Her mind was reeling with worry. Already she could hear the sounds of curses being hurled through the air. The rain clouds in the distance illuminating with flashes of red and green and blue…
"Circe!" Severus shouted at her, and her vision snapped back to him.
He looked at her, waiting for some kind of recognition that she understood. Silently, she nodded.
Severus ducked low and pushed the handle of his broom down. Circe tried not to notice when he wobbled a little as he picked up speed, but she too bent low into the rain and went soaring into the sky, into the battle…
Low-hanging, heavy clouds obscured much of Circe's vision. For a while, all she could see was dense rain and blackness through her narrow eye-slits. Her rapid, short breaths echoing inside her mask, the only thing she could hear.
But then, suddenly, there was chaos.
She burst through a wet cloud and was immediately in the midst of the battle.
Death Eaters and Order members whizzed about the sky, performing sickening feats of aerial acrobatics as they chased each other. A multitude of Harrys flew about before her: several on the backs of brooms and one even mounted on a Thestral. All of the Harrys were partnered up with a senior member of The Order. Curses and hexes were being hurled left, right and center. From every person and every single wand, vicious magic was being flung about. A cacophony of spells mingled into one deafening sound in Circe's ears, until she couldn't tell what was being cast by who. Cries of rage and war cut through the rain as powerful magic lanced through the air.
As Circe tightened her grip on her own wand, she steeled herself, summoning up the mental strength she needed to begin casting harmful magic on her former friends. She had to at least make it look like she was truly engaging in the batte. That she wanted to curse them, hex them, hurt them… And for the first time that night, she was thankful for her anonymity.
If any of them had been able to look her in the eye and recognise her that night, she would have died from shame.
She raised her wand-arm and pointed at the nearest target she could find. Kingsley and an unknown Harry, giving Crabbe and Goyle a whirling tornado curse to deal with. Closing her eyes, she shouted:
"Expelliarmus!"
Her spell met with Kingsley's protective shield and failed to find purchase, but Circe felt like she'd just ripped a bandage off; She'd just cast the first potentially harmful spell on one of her old friends. She swallowed down a bitter sob and gritted her teeth.
Turning her eyes skywards, she found another target, this time Bill and another Harry on a Thestral, and dove headlong into the fight, shooting off dark spells with seeming abandon. Just like all the other Death Eaters.
Her aim was awful that night. For a champion duellist such as she, her skewed aim was embarrassing. Yet each missed curse that went sailing past Moody's or Remus's or Arthur's heads was a victory. Every so often, she had to throw in an expelliarmus or a confundus that looked like it might hit a target, just to appear like she was truly taking part. Still, a large wince would play on her face each time her magic would strike the protective charms around her old friends, or if they were forced to cast a protego to block one of her hexes. The initial anger and resentment she'd felt towards The Order in the remains of Spinner's End was gone. She still wanted to protect them with everything in her. Even if they saw her as an enemy. Even if they despised her. She would still cast her spells to go sailing a good three feet past their heads… even if every one of them hated her with a burning passion.
However, she wished The Order were only giving half the effort, like she was… Twice, Circe had been forced to barrel roll out of the way of a paralysing hex, just to hear Selwyn and Goyle take the hit and go plummeting towards the earth. Selwyn had landed on the roof of a muggle house on the outskirts of Little Whinging, breaking his fall somewhat. Poor Goyle, on the other hand, had gotten himself tangled up in quite a few cables from the nearby telephone pylons on his fall to earth. There would be quite a few broken bones after tonight…
Bill's Thestral snapped at Circe as she dive-bombed at him. A mild disarming spell crashed against his protective shield and bright light flared into her eyes. She pulled up on her broom handle and spun away from the Thestral in a dizzy whirl, narrowly escaping its snapping jaws. She pirouetted in place and re-faced the battle, waiting for her head to stop spinning. Arthur Weasley and his Harry came charging at her, wand pointed square at her head.
"Get away from my son!"
Circe gasped as a nasty next came flying her way. She let her thigh-grip on the handle loosen and dropped her whole body underneath the hovering broom, hanging completely upside down just as the spell screamed harmlessly over the top of her.
She let out a sigh of relief, glad of that little trick she'd remembered from her Quidditch playing days. Although, back when she was a Beater, it was bludgers she'd been swinging to avoid, not combat spells. She hung from her broom for a second, her eyes searching through the chaos of the battle for her target.
Hagrid… where are you? She thought as the blood rushed to her head. So far, she had yet to lay eyes on the target Severus had given her.
Circe manoeuvered herself until she was upright again, all the time searching the rainy sky for the Half-Giant and his roaring motorbike. But when her eyes settled on something in the rain-soaked night, it wasn't Hagrid. It was a shock of pink hair…
"Tonks!" She gasped.
Her old friend was suddenly there, mounted on a broom, another Harry sharing her ride and hanging on tight to her waist. Both of them were flinging curses about with fierce looks of determination on their faces.
"Try and hex me in the back, will ya!" Tonks cried at someone above the deafening noise of the battle. "Cover us, Ron. I'm gonna ram this bastard!"
And then Tonks was charging at somebody with great speed. Cutting through the cloud and the rain like a deadly torpedo…. Circe followed the trajectory of Tonks's broom with a sinking feeling in her gut and saw at the edge of the battle, struggling to point his shaking broom in the right direction, a chrome-masked Death Eater.
Severus! She realised, as she watched Tonks come hurtling towards him. Shit, she'll knock him straight off his broom!
And before she'd consciously willed her broom to move, Circe was careening through the air after Tonks.
There was no way she could fly fast enough to reach Severus before Tonks did. But Circe saw it all, powerless to stop it from happening… The world ground down almost into slow motion as she helplessly watched Tonks slam her whole shoulder into Severus's chest. A classic Chaser tackle. For two Quidditch players like Tonks and Ron, they righted their balance on the broom easily after the shunt, but Severus could barely keep his hold on his handle… Severely winded from the blow, Severus's precarious position on the broom was knocked from under him.
He didn't mean to, but he let go…
His heart leapt into his mouth…
White-hot terror filled his veins…
And he began to fall…
Until he suddenly felt another body slam into him from beneath. A harsh groan sounded in Severus's ears as he felt a pair of hands on him, supporting him, stopping his fall…
"Grab the handle!" Circe grunted at him, one hand under his armpit and the other on his hip. She was holding up most of his weight and he was a lot heavier than she'd anticipated for someone who looked so skinny and lithe. "Don't let go of it! Grab it!"
Severus was still reeling in shock. Circe had just about managed to halt him falling to his death. He lay at a precarious 45 degree angle off the side of his broom, but he still had one leg hooked over the handle whilst his arms flailed about helplessly at his sides.
"Bugger! He's still clinging on!" Circe heard Tonks shout from somewhere.
A swooping noise sounded in her ears and Circe knew that Tonks and Ron were probably turning around to go for another shunt. Severus gritted his teeth and groaned loudly as he tried to bend to reach his handle but Circe's eyes were scanning for that pink hair again… It flashed at the edge of her sight, to her left, and she promptly released the hand she had under Severus's armpit. He cried out in alarm, falling back as he lost his balance, his back slamming into the side of her face, but Circe needed the hand, she needed her wand…
"Ebublio!" she shouted, pointing her wand at Tonks and Ron just as they were about to ram their shoulders into her and Severus again.
A large, iridescent bubble completely encapsulated Tonks and Ron. Both of them were trapped, frozen into place inside that bubble, as if they were in the center of a giant snow globe. Tonks stared back at Circe from through the sheer of the bubble, her eyes almost popping out of her head. Tonks knew the Death Eater in front of her could have cast something much nastier than the ebublio curse, and then she and Ron would have been toast. The Death Eater had chosen to spare them…
Through her frozen, locked jaw Tonks muttered out something that sounded like "Cur-cee?"
A hard lump formed in Circe's throat, but she gave no sign of her emotional distress, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. Circe flicked her wand vertically and the bubble floated upwards, carrying Tonks and Ron with it. Up and up and up, until Circe couldn't see either of them…
Circe let out a long sigh of relief. Immediate danger averted for now. She pocketed her wand again and repositioned her spare hand back under Severus's armpit.
"Grab your handle!" She repeated to Severus.
Snape gulped down the rainy air and tried to clear his head from the blind panic of falling. Circe grunted again and pushed with all her strength, trying to get Severus upright enough to get him back on his broom. However, fighting against gravity was hard, and it took quite a bit of brute strength, groaning and heaving to get Severus righted. Eventually though, he grasped the handle of his broom once more and heaved the rest of himself back on to it.
"I said don't fall off your broom!" Circe shouted at him when he was steady enough to remove her hands from his body.
"I was barraged!" he shouted defensively back at her.
"If you think someone is about to shunt you, go limp. Don't tense up. If you're looser, it absorbs the shock a bit better."
"But you told me to not let go of the handle…"
"Don't make your grip loose, for Merlin's sake!" Circe exclaimed, her tone startlingly similar to one Severus had used with her many times. She'd heard it most often when she had just fudged-up an important potion instruction or incorrectly prepared a vital ingredient of some sort... The tone of an expert talking to a novice a touch too condescendingly…"Like this." She added, not enjoying highlighting Severus's flying ignorance as much as she thought she would.
Severus gasped aloud as he watched Circe perform her bludger-dodging move again. Slowly at first, and then all at once, she lilted to the side and fell off her broom. His heart thrummed in his ears for a moment, but Severus let out a long sigh of relief as he watched her dangling upside down before him, hanging from her broom with crossed legs and firmly clasped hands.
"Hmm." He mumbled simply. Even with Circe's demonstration, he doubted he'd be able to perform it as gracefully as her. "Have you had eyes on Hagrid yet?" He asked, darting his gaze about the sky.
Circe shook her head, the rain droplets flinging off her cloak.
But then, faintly in the air, Circe heard the grumble of what she thought must be thunder.
No, not thunder…she realised.
The mechanical scream of a motorbike. She gasped aloud and looked about the rainy sky. The noise of the battle seemed to still for a moment as she strained her ears, listening out for the howl of the motorbike again…
When suddenly a burst of animalistic shrieking exploded in her face.
Circe screamed and flailed her hands about in front of her. She was being attacked by white feathers and claws…
"Flipendo!" Circe shouted, trying to point her wand into the angry ball of wings. "Flipendo!" She shouted again, her spell failing to strike her screeching attacker.
But in the next moment, it was gone. Flying away in a graceful flap of startling white. When Circe had caught her breath, she saw who her attacker had been.
"Hedwig!" She shouted. "Harry's owl."
For a moment they both watched the snowy barn owl fly through the air, away from the chaos and carnage of the battle. The owl dipped behind a thick cloud and Circe heard what Hedwig had been drawn to. A rev of a motorbike.
"Over there! He's over there!" Severus shouted, pointing at the distant cloud.
"What have you found for us, Severus?" A chilling voice asked at Snape's back.
Oh no… Circe thought. The two of them slowly turned to face that chilling voice that was somehow even colder and sharper than the sky full of rain and darkness. Circe didn't want to see who had just overheard them. She knew. And it made her blood go cold.
"Since you've been hogging the half-breed and my blood-traitor niece all to yourself…" Bellatrix added, poised on her broom like a viper about to strike.
"Bellatrix, I gave Circe orders to follow the Giant and his-"
"Rodolphus! The bird! What did I tell you…!" Bellatrix cried, pointing in the same direction Hedwig had just flown off. "It's been circling that bike since they took off. The Half-Giant oaf has the real Potter boy. The bird's protecting its master!"
"Bellatrix…" Severus breathed.
Circe's heart hammered against her breastbone. Sickening dread pooled in her stomach.
"Rodolphus, summon Him!" Bellatrix barked at her husband. "The boy has been identified!"
"Bellatrix, we cannot be sure it's him!" Severus exclaimed, a slight twang of panic in his voice.
Rodolphus drew back the sleeve of his robe and touched the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark. As soon as the wood connected with the tattoo, Circe felt the whisper of His presence on the breeze, the sear of the scar on her own arm, the heavy pull of fear gripping her in an iron fist.
The next things she knew, Bellatrix went whizzing past her, after Hedwig. She was death on swift wings, as dark and deadly as a vampire bat.
"Bellatrix!" Severus roared after her.
Rodolphus let out a slow, quiet laugh and went flying off after his wife. Another black bat of death.
"Come, we must follow them…" Severus said hurriedly to Circe. He tried to will his broom to point in the right direction but just ended up swearing rather profusely at the contraption.
Circe bent her head low and became the very wind itself.
"Catch up when you can!" She shouted back at him. "I'll try and keep them off Harry!"
Circe vision blurred as the raindrops fell about her. All she could concentrate on was the roar of the motorbike in the distance, the thrumming of dread in her veins, the burning in her arm as Voldemort drew nearer. She sensed that there were other people around and, glancing back, she saw that she had quite a following of Order members.
"Stop them! They're going for Hagrid!" Circe heard one of them cry desperately. It sounded like Remus to her ears… and Circe couldn't resist another glance back.
She gasped as a red-hot curse passed by her face, just short of striking her by a few inches. Circe veered violently to the left and almost flew straight into the path of another curse.
"Alastor! They can't reach them!" Remus cried again.
"Mundungus! Do something!" Moody roared at the whimpering Harry he had on the back of his broom. The Harry that Circe assumed had to be Dung kept his shaking, paralyzed hands firmly around Moody's waist.
Circe tried to keep her flight pattern as random as possible, ducking from left to right, up and down, as haphazardly as possible to avoid the string of curses being sent her way.
"Moody! Watch out!" Remus shouted behind her, and as Circe dared to glance back once more, she saw several other chrome-faced Death Eaters descend upon Lupin and Mad-Eye. A screaming rang in Circe's ears and she felt a great stab of pain lance up her arm, and the next time she glanced back over her shoulder, there was Voldemort….
He seemed to float in midair. Suspended by nothing other than his dark magic.
His black, billowing robes flitted around him like the swaying of anemone tentacles in the ocean. Strange and beautiful, but wrong.
His yellow eyes glinted, bright and terrible, even through the gloom and rain and Circe felt terror seep through each inch of her when they passed over her.
He bled into the night, until Circe couldn't tell where he finished and the darkness began.
Collectively, everybody took a shuddering gasp in. Death Eater and Order Members alike. Momentarily stunned by Voldemort's mere presence.
Circe realised, when her ears began ringing, that Dung was the one screaming.
Circe willed her arms and legs to start moving again, one of the first there to shake herself out of the grips of fright. She ducked low, sweeping her broom in a great circle underneath Remus and Moody and arching up again until she was positioned behind them. Neither Remus nor Moody looked at her, their focus was, unsurprisingly, entirely on Voldemort now. Dung was still screaming his little head off. Circe wondered if Dung had managed to somehow retain a part of his memories of his night of torture in Malfoy Manor, and something of his terror of Voldemort had survived in his mind. Circe blinked once, and when she opened her eyes, Mundungus was gone.
Circe blinked again… He's gone. He apparated… abandoned them.
There was a great flash of green light.
The last thing Circe saw before she was forced to look away was Voldemort smiling menacingly at the now abandoned Moody. His wand raised and pointed squarely at the most seasoned member of The Order.
Before she had even opened her eyes, she could hear Remus's cries of despair.
"Alastor! Alastor, no!"
And when she did eventually peer through the eye-slits of her mask, there was just empty sky where Moody had once been.
Circe stared at that patch of open sky in dumbstruck awe.
He's dead…
"My Lord! The boy is with the Giant!" a chrome-faced figure called to The Dark Lord. Rodolpuhus extended a long arm out into the rain clouds and pointed. "That way. Bellatrix pursues him."
"No!" Remus screamed, and Circe wanted to scream it too.
But the Dark Lord merely turned to face the sounds of the revving motorbike and glissaded silently through the air after Harry and Hagrid.
Circe barely had time to register her mounting panic when a pair of sharp, dark hooves came clopping down above her head. She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the attack of Bill and his Thestral. The creature brayed and flapped its leathery wings as Bill sent a few blue, fizzing curses straight at her. She wasn't fast enough to get her shields raised in time and an agonising fizz of electricity wracked through her as one of Bill's curses struck her shoulder. Circe screamed out in pain as her muscles spasmed, her broom skewing all over the place as she struggled to maintain her grip.
"Sectumsempra!" A fierce cry bellowed behind her, and the black Thestral whinnied in pain as three deep lesions tore through its wing.
The creature shrieked and began wildly flapping about. Bill and his Harry cried out too, holding on for dear life as the Thestral struggled to maintain a steady flight path. Circe glanced around for her saviour, knowing only two people who knew that spell. And it certainly wasn't Harry…
The Half Blood Prince himself came tottering into her sights, still rather nervously gripping on to the handle of his broom but pointing his wand fiercely at the still braying Thestral.
"You caught up then?" Circe asked sardonically, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude.
"Nobody attacks you in front of me and gets away without something to show for it." he answered her gruffly. The sound of his gallant and defensive anger sent a small shiver of delight through her.
Circe shook her head and chided herself. Priorities, Circe. Priorities… You can get all turned on and excited by Severus's protectiveness later!
The Thestral's ruined wing sent the poor creature teetering off into the rainclouds, unable to fly straight anymore. Circe and Severus watched as the leathery black wings of the animal disappeared down past the cloud bank, forcing Bill and his Harry to make an emergency landing. But they were soon joined by more Order members: Kingsley, Arthur, and even Tonks, now free of the bubble charm Circe had used on her earlier, all swooping down on them from out of the thick rainclouds above.
"Shit…" Circe breathed.
"Where is Harry?" Severus asked.
"That way." Circe said with a point. "Voldemort's here too. And he went after him."
"Go, then! Find him! Protect him!" He said with a desperate wave.
"You can't stay here on your own! There's too many of them to fight off by yourself." Circe said, pointing up at the incoming Order members.
"I'm not as fast a flyer as you." Severus said simply. "Go after Harry! He needs you."
A tirade of colourful curses came screaming at them. Severus sent a couple of nasty crucios in the direction of Tonks, Kingsley and Arthur and they momentarily scattered to avoid his spells.
"Grab the end of my broom." Circe said quickly, pointing her brush at Severus. "One hand on your handle, one on mine."
Severus raised a brow at her, but he realised she could not see it from underneath his chrome mask.
"A piggy back?" He asked.
Circe nodded.
Severus placed an unsure hand into the brush of her broom. Once he had nodded to Circe, she turned to the distant rumble of the motorbike… and compelled herself forwards with all her magical might.
Severus was thrown back in his seat as the powerful rush of the wind swept past him. Circe's speed was incredible. Even with Severus trailing behind her, she was flying faster than she had been all night, and the two of them left The Order at their backs.
"Merlin save me…!" Severus screamed into the roar of the wind.
Circe merely smiled when she heard that.
But soon the sounds of Severus's shouting were drowned out by the thrum of Hagrid's motorbike. Steadily, the two of them closed in on the Half-Giant and his Harry. The real Harry. Just in time to see Bellatrix and The Dark Lord begin to encircle the boy and trapping him between them. Hedwig's flapping and cawing was futile, but nevertheless the brave little owl kept on trying to defend her master by nipping and clawing at Voldemort's face.
Voldemort's features contorted into an irritated snarl.
And in the next second, another bright flash of light burned through the rainclouds.
Hedwig's tiny white body fell to the earth.
Circe heard Harry's shouts of pain. She too felt a stab of misery in her own heart; she had watched that bird circling the skies above Hogwarts with her own bird, Ziggy, for years.
"Expelliarmus!" came Harry's shout.
The boy sent many disarming curses at the Death Eaters encircling him, and Circe felt rather like Potter was behaving as if he'd brought a knife to a gunfight…
To use something as piddly as "expelliarmus" on the Dark Lord… He knows better curses than that. I taught them to him in Dumbledore's Army!
She circled closer, anxious to be nearer to Harry in the fight. Circe wanted to at least get Bellatrix out of the way. Perhaps she could pretend that she'd been struck with a spell and barge Bellatrix out of the way. She flew close to Bellatrix, Severus still trailing behind her cloaktails, and positioned the two of them parallel to Lestrange's broom, preparing herself to slam her shoulder into Bella's side…
Then a huge explosion sent Circe and Severus spinning…
She screamed, Severus cried out too, and the raindrops whirled around them like a tornado of water. Circe felt Severus's firm hand clamped around the back of her broom, too afraid to let go of her. When Severus and her had stopped screaming as they eventually came to a standstill, Circe cautiously opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and swaying with nausea, but even if her eyesight had been perfect, she'd have struggled to deduce what she was witnessing.
The first thing she saw were two twin jets of powerful magic arched through the air. A deep, blood-red crimson and a vivid, sickly green. The air was thick with the thrum of power. The noise was deafening. Circe struggled to actually fathom what was happening before her. Harry and Voldemort were at the other ends of those powerful streams of magic, and they were joined in the middle… Where the magic converged, in the center of them both, it sizzled and spat.
"Severus…Severus, the wands." Circe breathed, glancing behind her. But Severus wasn't there. He wasn't on his broom.
"Circe…how do I get back up now?!" His voice sounded in her ears.
She dropped her eyes down to the ground, and dangling underneath his broom, just as Circe had shown him, was Severus.
"Oh, thank fuck…" she muttered, swinging around to help Severus up. "I thought you'd fallen."
"What's happening?!" He asked, glancing over to Harry and Voldemort.
"I think it's the wands, just like Harry described last time in the Graveyard." Circe shouted over the roar of the magic, reaching a hand down to him.
He eyed up her arm unsurely, reluctant to remove one of his hands from the broom handle. But after a second of thought he gritted his teeth and willed himself to let go, grabbing for Circe's wrist.
"He has a new wand, remember." Severus grunted as Circe began pulling him up. "He had Lucuis's. They aren't the same core anymore."
"Then it must be something to do with the… other thing." Circe muttered. "How they're connected the other way."
She pulled with all her strength and eventually got Severus back onto his broom. In the next moment, Bellatrix went screaming past them, and as their eyes followed her blood-curdling cackle, Circe saw the Order making straight for them. Tonks and Remus leading the charge. Circe's blood chilled as she watched the black witch making straight for her friends, but something inside her hardened in that moment. Fright turned to anger, fear turned to rage.
You are not going to hurt my friends.
"That spell of yours, Severus. The slashing one…"
Severus's eyes flicked from Circe to Bellatrix, and then back to her. He knew the look that would surely be plastered over her face underneath that mask. The same look she'd had that night at Malfoy Manor when she'd had her wand underneath Bellatrix's chin.
"Circe, remember what you promised me..." He rasped.
"She's not going to kill my friends, Severus." Circe growled. "I won't let her."
"Circe… what about Harry? Circe!" Severus called after her, but it was too late. She had already left him behind as she went after Bellatrix.
The wind was icy cold, as cold as Circe's hardening heart. She pointed her wand out before her, feeling something sharp and chilling forming in her veins. The magic to perform Severus's slashing spell.
Sectumsempra… Sectumsempra… Sectumsempra. She practised over and over again in her mind.
It felt much like the cruciatus curse as it built up in her blood, but instead of being fuelled by anger, it was fuelled by hate. Circe could feel the intense hatred in the curse, so strong that it consumed all other emotion. How much had Severus hated James and Sirius to have used it on them? How much had he hated his father to have used it on him?
Bellatrix's back was in front of her. Tonks and Remus faced her. Both of them charging relentlessly at one another.
If she angled the spell just right, it might look like she was trying to curse The Order and she'd hit Bella by accident.
Circe drew in a deep breath, and tapped into that hatred in her veins.
"Sectumsempr-"
Something slammed into her before she could complete the word. But it didn't matter. The intent was there. The force of her hate was there. The curse shot from her wand and lurched off into the dark.
When the world stopped spinning and she'd sucked air back into her winded lungs, the first thing Circe consciously registered was the sounds of someone screaming. Circe looked up, searching for the person who had slammed into her. The lingering smell of sandalwood and potion fumes in her nose already told her who it had been.
"Severus!" She roared at him as tears of rage filled in her eyes… but she couldn't see him.
Her ears began ringing when the thumping of adrenaline began to fade. A sound of such awful, horrible pain that it made the hair on her arms stand on end. And she knew it wasn't Bellatrix making that sound.
Her eyes searched the rain-smattered sky, and within those colours of grey and black and dark blue, she saw a splash of red. Blood red.
"Oh God… No…" Circe choked out.
Someone had been struck with her sectumsempra. Someone she hadn't meant to hit.
One of the many Harry clones, the one sharing Remus's broom, had a crimson-soaked hand clamped over his ear. His face was contorted with agony. His screams made the clouds shake.
No no no no… I didn't do that. I didn't do that…
Circe felt the colour drain from her face. The hands on her broom began to shake as Bellatrix's cruel laughter echoed through the sky.
"You missed the half-breed, my dear!" Bellatrix called out to Circe in a rasping cackle as she circled the space above her. "Almost got him though… Almost."
Circe's eyes drifted back to the screaming boy. Blood dripped down his arm. It fell from him in drops, as if the rain falling around them had been turned into gore.
No, I… I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to… she thought as a hollowing sense of dread filled her.
"Remus, get George out of here!" Kingsley shouted at them. "We'll cover you. Give you time to get away from them!" He barked, his finger pointing squarely at Circe.
She felt her heart skip a beat. Flinching visibly as the Auror's hand waved at her.
She felt sick to her stomach.
No, please. I didn't mean to. I'm not one of them.
But she was. And that's what made this all so terrible:
She'd cast that spell.
She'd hurt someone.
Someone that she'd vowed at the start of this terrible night to try and protect.
All because her hatred had consumed her. The very same hatred that most likely coursed through the veins of the person she'd intended the sectumsempra for. The same hatred that sat stagnant in the veins of all the Death Eaters.
I'm no better than them. Circe thought. Her chest hollowed into a bottomless pit of sorrow. I'm one of them.
Another ear-splitting explosion ripped through the night sky. Voldemort's unmistakable voice roared with a rage that rattled the brain inside Circe's head. She scanned the sky again, looking for those two twin jets of red and green magic, and found nothing but dark clouds and rain. Circe felt the release in her bones. Like something had been snapped, like something had been severed... And in the distance, Circe heard Hagrid's motorbike revving off into the night. The Dark Lord left behind in their wake, his tendrilous, anemone-like robe billowing around him. His cry of fury thundered through the sky.
"He escaped…" Circe whispered through her tears. "At least Harry escaped."
She hung her head low and felt a sob rise up in her chest. Until her swimming eyes saw a small fleck of black falling to earth…
She gasped.
"Severus..!"
She bent her broom to the ground and dived. Her heart hammered inside her as the wind rushed past her face. The black dot that was Severus became clearer with each sickening second she spent plunging to the earth. His broom was snapped, almost hewn into two pieces, and Severus was trying in vain to force it to fly. Perhaps Circe was responsible for that too. Perhaps her sectumsempra had caught his broom as well as George's ear. And now, Severus was falling to his death because of her.
She watched as Severus tried to force the remains of the broom between his legs, willing it with all his might to stop him from falling, to fly again. But she could see the speed of the wind rushing past him. His black hair flapped around his face but Circe caught glimpses of the panic written all over his features.
The ground rushed up to them, closer and closer.
Circe willed her broom faster.
Her eyes stung with the sheer speed of the air crashing into her.
Her stomach lurched into her feet.
The empty countryside stretched out before her. Nearer and nearer. No houses, Little Whinging long gone, just open fields directly beneath them and a great rippling reservoir nearby.
She stretched her arm out to him, praying she could catch him on time.
They were so close to the earth now. She could see the individual trees, the ripples of the raindrops crashing into the reservoir.
Severus turned his back to the ground, his eyes locking with Circe's. He too stretched his hand out to her.
Faster… Go faster!
Their fingers inched closer.
Severus's eyes pleaded with her.
The ground was mere feet away.
Circe clasped Severus's wrist, yanking his body into her arms and pulling up sharply on her broom handle.
It was too late for a safe landing. The momentum of falling was still too forceful. But Circe tried to force her broom to fly as horizontal as she could, pulling upwards until her arm muscles screamed, pulling until she screamed…
Severus was oddly silent, but Circe could feel the terror in his taut body as he clung on to her.
He covered her white-knuckled, straining hands with his and pulled up on the broom handle with her, lending his own strength to their desperate attempt to stop their falling.
Both of them gritted their teeth and groaned against the rush of the wind.
Instead of a vertical drop to the earth, Circe and Severus were now curving ever so slightly.
The ground was still coming at them too fast. Too quickly.
But instead of the hard and unrelenting countryside fields, the waters of the reservoir glistened underneath them now.
"Brace yourself!" She screamed at Severus, still tucked into her arms, and as one they plunged into the water…
Water crashed around them. Cold and icy and utterly black.
The air was knocked out of Circe yet again as she was submerged in the murky reservoir. After the noise of the battle, and the roar of the wind rushing past them as they fell, the underwater silence was a strange and tranquil contrast. But after a second of silent floating, she kicked, and swam and bobbed to the surface. She gasped in the cold night air.
Still alive.
Severus emerged from the water beside her. His mouth open in gasping shock and his black hair plastered to his face.
Alive too.
"Never… for as long as I live…" Severus stammered, half from the cold and half from shock. "… will I ever get on a broom again."