Harry stumbled as the Portkey dumped them on the ground and grabbed the nearest arm to steady himself. Unfortunately, said arm belonged to Robards, who yanked it away and lifted his wand.
"Never quite got the hang of Portkeys," Harry said, raising a palm.
Robards grunted and holstered his wand. Satisfied that he wasn't about to get cursed, Harry looked around, his enchanted spectacles revealing a rolling grassland and distant treetops peaking out of the evening mist. The only man-made object in sight was a canopy under which stood a brightly lit table surrounded by red- and grey-robed people. The sky was already dark except for a patch of scarlet where the sun had just set... and another one in the opposite direction.
His head swiveled between the two glows. "What in the world..."
Robards spat on the ground. "Hellfire. Merlin himself would quake in his boots at what you've set loose."
Everyone stared at the crimson light to the east as though mesmerized until Kingsley waved them toward the canopy. Harry kept glancing over his shoulder as he trailed the others. Now that he knew the origin of the glow, there came a subtle yet inexorable draw toward it. Under different circumstances, he might've called the Vow's effects fascinating: his world was becoming black and white, where everything was either in accordance with its terms or in conflict.
A large map spread atop the table came into view, as did the hordes of figurines meandering across it. Hunched over it were three cowled Unspeakables and two surly Aurors, who hastened toward their approaching superior. Robards conferred with them in hushed tones while Kingsley addressed the Unspeakables.
"What's the situation?"
"Much as before," said one, pivoting to survey the arrivals. He sounded old, and his grey robes hung off his skeletal frame, yet his motions were brisk. "Despite our efforts to stall it, the entity continues moving southeast at approximately eight miles per hour. There is no longer any doubt that its objective is Avebury."
A second Unspeakable spoke, and Harry recognized Louse's reedy voice. "As Croaker says. Were it to tap into that place of power, all bets are off. My conjecture is that it seeks to open a portal to Gehenna and unleash its armies upon our world." Several figurines scurried aside as Louse's crooked finger pointed out the location.
Harry swallowed. "You mean hell, right? Place where people like Voldemort go?"
"A woefully common misconception," scoffed the third Unspeakable, her cowl turning to acknowledge him. "Gehenna is indeed a burning, barren realm, but the only souls suffering there are those foolish enough to strike deals with its inhabitants. Ancient texts claim—"
"Let's not get sidetracked, Magpie," Louse said. "Mr. Potter, to what do we owe the pleasure? I must say, you're the last person I expected to see here."
"One moment," Kingsley interjected, raising a finger. "Robards?"
The Head Auror broke off his conversation with his subordinates. "Our people are currently evacuating the settlements between here and Avebury. Since the Prime Minister consented to unrestricted use of magic, we might just make it in time."
"Good. Join them and lead the effort. Louse..." Kingsley jerked his chin at Harry. "We found our summoners. Not only that, they've volunteered to destroy the hellspawn."
Malfoy's derisive snort was loud in the ensuing silence. The Unspeakables' cowls whipped to the four wizards before the one called Magpie bolted toward them. Harry lurched back in surprise as her parchment-skinned hand clamped around his wrist.
"However did you accomplish this? Even the Department of Mysteries thought the knowledge long lost." The darkness under her cowl seethed. "Tell me, boy!"
"None of us remember," he said, failing to free his hand from her death grip. "We, ah, were really drunk at the time."
"Preposterous!" she cried, throwing up her arms. "A ritual capable of connecting the planes would require an eminently rare arrangement of the celestial bodies, and thus decades of preparation! We know this much from the records, at least."
Louse raised a knotted hand. "Now now, Magpie, this might be your area of expertise, but it's important to approach these things with an open mind. Let's hear the youngsters out."
Tony extended the sooty book. "Can't make heads or tails of it myself, but we must've followed instructions from this."
Magpie snatched the tome, stared, then cracked it open, lingering on the first few pages, then leafing through faster and faster. Louse and Croaker shuffled up to watch.
"Reckon we got it at Sirius's—Black family's library," Harry explained. "It's full of Dark crap."
Magpie snapped the book shut, and with trembling hands, shoved it at her colleagues. "Tell me I'm seeing things."
Louse's cowl dipped to study the cover. "Ah. We could have the original retrieved from the archives for comparison, just to be certain—"
"A waste of time," Croaker said curtly. "I happened to peruse it at one point. This is a passable copy."
Louse sighed. "Oh dear."
"Does it say how to banish the demon?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" Magpie exclaimed. "It is merely a translation of Johann Weyer's grimoire, an infamous hoax only significant for its historical value! You could no more summon a demon using this book than cast magic with a soup ladle!"
His mouth went agape. "That... that doesn't make sense."
Magpie waved the book around. "I should've known! The very idea of four punks not two years out of Hogwarts performing a demonic summoning is absurd!"
He scowled. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"
"Not helping," Cedric hissed.
Louse gave a reedy chuckle. "To our collective misfortune, so it would seem."
Malfoy, who had been growing paler by the minute, said, "Mr. Kingsley? The experts have spoken. It couldn't have been us."
Kingsley paid him no heed. "It was them alright. We confirmed it with Priori Incantato."
"That doesn't make any sense," Magpie echoed Harry's words, desperation coloring her voice. She opened the book again. "Hundreds of would-be demonologists tried these ceremonies to no avail!"
"Suppose," Louse said, his tone thoughtful, "suppose the diagrams here do not depict the final design, but are a cipher of a sort... or, perhaps, they're missing some crucial element..."
Croaker shook his head. "Now you're getting sidetracked, sir. Even if you're right, it could take our Arithmancers months to decipher this."
Tony punched Harry in the shoulder. "Stop looking so proud."
"Forget the book, then," Kingsley said. "How do we stop the thing?"
Magpie's hands disappeared into her obscuring cowl as though to massage her temples. "A contract must be established before the entity is allowed outside the summoning circle—that's the one thing the treatises agree on. Otherwise, the demon will be free to rampage until its heart is destroyed."
"So we do it the old-fashioned way," Kingsley said with the practicality of a veteran Auror. "Portkey them in—this discussion has gone on long enough." He fixed the four with an icy stare. "I don't need to tell you how important this is. Send that creature back where it came from, for all our sakes."
Croaker pulled a length of rope out of his pocket. "Our people will brief you on the scene. They won't join combat directly since that was deemed futile." He proffered the rope. "Frankly, I don't see how your presence will do any good, but you can't possibly muck things up more than you already have."
"Mr. Potter has managed to surprise us before," Louse remarked. "Instruct the team to support them from a safe distance if required."
Cedric's hand moved toward the rope as if on its own accord. "Aren't you coming with us, Mr. Shacklebolt?"
"Or sending any Aurors?" Malfoy added with a helpless glance at the scarlet glow above the horizon.
Kingsley shook his head. "I have to coordinate the evacuation, and we need every wand to make a last stand in case you, ah, fail. Godspeed, gentlemen."
Harry scowled, and disregarding Kingsley's outstretched hand, grasped the Portkey. The other three did likewise. Croaker tapped the rope with his wand, and off they went.
The trip thankfully ended as soon as it began, although the second Portkey in a short succession still left Harry dizzy. Tony steadied him by the arm, to which he nodded absently, his gaze drawn by the fiery colossus a few hundred yards away. Surrounded by a haze of heated air and floating sparks, it marched east leaving a trail of flames in its wake.
Tony shaded his eyes and said, rather unnecessarily, "That's no succubus."
"Did we do this?" Cedric murmured.
"Not me," Malfoy said weakly. "It can't have been."
Harry worked his jaw, unable to express the mix of disappointment, relief, and instinctive fear that flooded him. Wrenching his gaze away, he regarded the Unspeakables clustered nearby. Most were aiming their wands at the distant demon and droning a chant, while a smaller group fiddled with arcane gadgets.
A stocky wizard lifted a hand to his ear and turned to the newcomers. When he set off toward them, a petite witch jogged up to him and fell in step. The two appeared to have a brief debate before coming up to them.
"Croaker informed us of your—role in this," said the wizard, his hands clenching as he regarded the four in turn. "There's a thousand questions I'd like to ask, but every second is precious. By the time Level Nine tracked down the demon, it had already crossed half the country. We managed to bring it down with an anti-flight ward, but it merely shapeshifted into what you're seeing now and began walking. I don't think it even noticed us until we really got in its way. Our first encounter had us withdrawing within a minute. It was... oppressive." He wiped his palms on his robes. "We're looking at the first category seven event in living memory."
The four exchanged blank looks. Harry turned to the witch and grinned weakly at the swirl of darkness obscuring her face.
"Hey, Su. Is category seven bad? It sounds kinda bad."
"Fennec," she reminded, pointing at her cowl. "I'm glad the Department makes us write a will."
"That's awfully pessimistic of you," he said, trying to hide his unease.
Her colleague sputtered. "You aren't grasping the gravity of the situation! There's no contingency for a demonic incursion of this level!"
Su patted his upper arm without looking away from Harry. "Are you really the summoners?"
"The evidence points that way," Tony said, "but none of us remember what happened. Alcohol was involved, you see."
"Your higher-ups figured the demon escaped the circle before we could form a contract. Someone must've made a mistake in the schematics," Harry said in a tone that left no doubt it couldn't have been him.
"But why?" she asked, almost pleading.
"We didn't mean to summon—whatever that thing is." He averted his gaze. "It was supposed to be... smaller. Of female persuasion. Attractive. Like a, you know... a succubus."
"A succubus." She sidestepped and swept a trembling hand toward the marching behemoth.
"Frankly, I'm relieved it's a great ugly monster," he said, keeping up the bravado. "Better than fighting a sexy little devil, right, lads? Oh, don't give me those looks." He gestured at the nearby grey-robes, who had finished their chant and were engaged in a heated discussion. "If that lot have been fighting it, so can we."
"You call that fighting?" cried the stocky wizard. "We can barely slow it down!"
Harry frowned. "Wasn't talking to you, pal, but go on."
"Areal jinxes, transfigured obstacles... We're obstructing, delaying, nothing more. Three of our team members were nearly incinerated as soon as we made contact. Between its deadly flames and spell resistance, facing it directly is suicidal." The Unspeakable wrung his hands. "Unless you have something up your sleeves, Britain's future is all fire and brimstone."
Harry glanced at Su in question.
"Capybara's right," she said.
Harry and Tony burst out laughing.
The wizard bristled. "I'll have you know it's a stately and noble animal—listen, you clowns, this isn't the time! If the demon reaches Avebury, we're doomed!"
Harry sobered up. "Then stop puttering about and come at it all at once. With your numbers—"
"Haven't you been listening?" Capybara cried. "Its hide is impervious to spells, and any damage mends in moments. Worse yet, its flames tear through everything!"
"About time," Su murmured when Harry's face fell.
He gnawed on his lip; Kingsley's refusal to spare any Aurors suddenly made sense. "Those wankers sent us in knowing this."
"Then it's all pointless, isn't it?" Malfoy said dolefully. "I don't suppose you'd let me stay and assist your people? Dumb heroics isn't my shtick."
Capybara shook his head. "We have our orders, and you have yours. I wasn't made aware of the details, but if you're operating under an Unbreakable Vow, I don't recommend testing its limits."
Cedric rubbed his forehead. "At least my wife can't kill me if that thing gets to me first."
Capybara stuck his hand down his robe pocket and produced a palmful of black buttons. "These Floo Beetles will allow you to communicate at distance. Stick them in your ear and tap to speak."
Harry did as told, grimacing as the beetle wiggled in his ear canal before settling down. With glum looks, the others followed suit. They took a minute to test the Floo Beetles out, during which he tried, and failed, to convince them of the necessity of cool codenames.
"Try as many different spells as you can," Capybara said. "Overseer will be monitoring the battle until the end; the records should help future generations. We'll be returning to our duties." He took several steps away before looking over his shoulder. "Fennec?"
Su cast a backward glance at the lumbering colossus before squaring her slight shoulders. "I'm helping them."
"What are you saying?" Capybara exclaimed. "We were specifically ordered not to..."
She grasped the brim of her face-obscuring cowl, and with a shuddering inhalation, pulled it down. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the stares directed her way, but her head remained high. She brushed back her ponytail, then, catching Harry's eye, lifted her wand resolutely.
Capybara fidgeted. "This is highly unusual! I have to report it—nothing personal, you understand."
"Your face is unusual," Harry muttered.
At Su's unconcerned nod, Capybara retreated, muttering with his hand up in his cowl. She poked her wand into her ear and rotated it back and forth.
"Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," Harry said while others nodded. "Good to have you, Su. Let us take the front, alright?"
A frown creased her brow, but as he kept up the eye contact, her expression softened. "Then I'll act as a relay between you and my team."
Nodding, he retrieved his wand and aimed at his immobilized arm. "Diffindo. Diffindo, ouch, Diffindo." Having hacked a gash into the plaster, he started ripping it off.
Cedric looked at him with concern. "Didn't the hospital say to keep it in the sling for a week?"
He rotated his shoulder, then flexed his right hand. His upper arm was a little sore, but nothing worse than that. "I heal quickly."
"Guy's a freak of nature," Tony said.
Harry reached into his malletspace for his duelist's robes. A well-practiced switching spell later, he was wearing them and putting the original ones away.
Su drew up her cowl and made a sideways V-sign in front of her eyes. "Ack! It's as bright as Hogwarts."
He lifted his eyebrows. "Aura reading? I see that thing does more than obscure your face." Although he wouldn't want to see some old fart doing that activation gesture.
"How did you stabilize all those enchantments?" she asked, lowering the cowl and rubbing her eyes.
He shrugged. "I didn't, not even close. They deteriorate in a couple hours unless I keep them stored away."
"Ah," she said, sounding impressed.
He grinned and opened his mouth to tell her of his tinkering, but Su abruptly turned toward the demon. It appeared to be picking up speed.
"It broke through our ward," she said.
"Then we better hurry." He scanned the grassland in the demon's path and pointed out a hillock it would reach in another minute or two. "Pop over there. We'll poke it from a distance first, see how it goes."
Cedric's eyes were fixated on the fiery glow. "Er, maybe we should think about it some—urk." He clutched his chest, his face ashen.
"The creature's immune to magic! What will getting in its face accomplish?" Having said his piece, Malfoy broke into something resembling a need-to-pee dance.
"It'll only get worse the longer you delay," Harry said. "C'mon, I bet it's not even that scary up close."
Grasping Cedric's shoulder, he Side-Alonged him to the crest of the hillock. An eerie crimson glow dominated the surroundings. Ignoring Cedric's indignant sputters, he turned toward its source.
"I was wrong," he whispered, shock-still. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the realization that they truly, royally, and possibly irrevocably fucked up was settling in.
A flame-shrouded behemoth stomped toward them on tree-trunk legs tapering into cloven hooves that sank into the earth with every gargantuan stride. Four arms bulged at its sides, ending with four-fingered hands that gleamed with ebony claws the length of claymores. A goat-like head sat atop a thick neck merging into bulbous shoulders, slit-pupil eyes burning like holes into a blazing void. Its red scaly hide, taut over rippling muscle, radiated heat into the night air.
Swallowing, Harry scratched the reattachment scar over his tight sleeve. Apparition cracks and muted swearing rang in the background, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the monster. This was the stuff of legends, of long-forgotten nightmares come to terrorize humanity once more. For the first time, he seriously considered fleeing, but a sharp twinge in his chest killed that line of thought.
The demon drew near. Someone shook his shoulder and yelled into his ear, yet he kept staring into the enormous red-sclera eyes. They stared back, sizing him up.
The demon lumbered to a halt, and its elongated jaws parted releasing a plume of smoke, yet when it spoke, it was directly into their heads. "OPENERS OF THE GATE. STAND ASIDE AND YOUR PUNY LIVES WILL CONTINUE."
Harry's skull rang with the force of the voice that wasn't a voice. The small hope he had harbored about the whole debacle not being his fault was crushed. His mouth opened and closed before a squeaky voice he hardly recognized as his own spilled out.
"Begging your p-pardon... I d-don't suppose we could convince you to return? Er, your demonic highness?"
The demon tilted its horned head backward and rumbled in laughter. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the laughter ended, and its toothy maw opened to suck in air.
A chill ran down his spine. "Get away!"
Fire filled his vision, roaring in his ears, singing his skin. He turned on his heel. Reappearing a good distance away, he gawked as the demon belched out a crimson jet that stretched for hundreds of feet. Countless faces twisted by hate and suffering were emerging in the blaze only to vanish again. A gust of warm air brought with it sulfuric fumes and an unholy shriek. He shivered.
"Guys?" Tony's panicked voice said in his ear.
He lit up his wand and tapped the communicator. "Rally on my light."
There was a crack behind him. "So that's hellfire," Tony said. "Shit."
Another crack, and they were joined by Cedric. "I'll splinch if this goes on," he said, patting himself down.
Harry stuck a finger into his ear. "Su?"
"Alive," her clear voice said.
"Malfoy, you dead?"
The beetle wriggled a little. "Don't sound so eager, Potter."
Exhaling, Harry lowered his wand. The demon's head rotated, turning a wide swath of countryside into blackened wasteland seemingly just for the hell of it, until the flames sputtered out and it resumed its relentless march eastward. Had it deemed them dead, or simply unworthy of its attention?
His fingers tightened on his wand. "Go for its back."
"Nothing else for it," Tony said, shivering.
Leading by example, Harry popped onto the scorched ground behind the demon. The temperature spiked and the stench of sulfur intensified. His comrades joined him. Drawing strength from their presence, he opened the offensive with spells he had never used on a human.
The demon didn't so much as twitch, curses and hexes alike leaving no mark on its scaly hide. He paused in shock before gritting his teeth and stepping closer.
"Sectumsempra. Maulinimicus. Expulso."
The fiery explosion between its upper shoulder-blades made the hellspawn whirl around with a speed that belied its size. Leaping back, he narrowly avoided its claws, which gouged up clumps of turf. He backpedaled toward the others, but rather than give chase, it planted its hooves and rumbled.
He slapped his ear so hard it smarted. "Scatter!"
Reappearing on a nearby hill, he saw another torrent of hellfire scour the nearby grounds of all life. A quick headcount revealed that everyone had gotten away, and his stomach unclenched a fraction. Their luck wouldn't last forever.
"Quick, while it's busy!" Tony shouted.
Taking a deep breath, Harry popped behind the looming figure and vocalized to squeeze every bit of power from the spell.
"Lacero!"
A purple ribbon slashed the demon's upper arm, leaving a shallow cut that oozed black ichor. A triumphant whoop reached his ears, but to Harry, it didn't feel like much of a victory; this was a curse that sliced through tree trunks.
The demon rounded on him, the flames guttering yet continuing to dribble out its maw. He Apparated blindly, bumping into Malfoy on arrival. A glaring globule of crimson clung to the hem of Malfoy's robes, eating at the fabric with terrifying swiftness while he struggled to rip them off.
With a jab of his wand, Harry yanked the robes off and banished them aside. Blood-red flames surged, consuming the garment, and nothing but ashes fell to the ground. They exchanged wide-eyed looks.
"I'm not thanking you," Malfoy said. "All of this is your fault to begin with."
Harry touched his communicator. "Guys, whatever you do, don't get hit by the fire."
"Gee, you think?" Tony said.
Harry snorted, then jerked his chin at the demon. "Stick with me, Malfoy. My Cutter drew blood—maybe we'll do better if we hit it together."
They attacked the lumbering behemoth, escaped its flames by a hair's breadth, attacked again. To Harry's chagrin, the wound across its arm had disappeared without a sign, and Malfoy's patently Dark curses fared no better than his own. His only consolation was that they were stalling it—for now.
He lost count of the Apparitions, each worsening his dizziness, his adrenaline-sharpened focus alone preventing him from leaving behind body parts. Jumping in for another futile assault, he goggled at an oozing scratch on the demon's shin. A white wolf bounded around its leg, nipping at its ankles, until getting trampled under a barrel-sized hoof.
He could've smacked himself—of course, indirect attacks. While transfiguring something that not only moved on its own power but was large enough to inflict damage was beyond him, perhaps he could find a different way.
Wishing he had inherited his father's talent, he fashioned the earth before him into a lumpy golem about his own height and twice his width. Instead of transfiguring the soil, he played to his strengths, reinforcing it and granting the golem's limbs unnatural heft. One final charm imbued it with motion and sent it off.
He had raised two more by the time the first golem waddled up to the demon, only to be swatted aside like a fly. His excited grin faded. Dirt wasn't cutting it.
He looked around for Tony's straw-colored mop and popped over. Tony spared him a glance as he raised wolf after wolf out of pockmarked earth.
"Can you make these tougher?" Harry asked without preamble. "Stone, metal?"
"Sure," Tony said, "but animating the joints is too finicky."
Harry gave him a pointed look.
"Right," Tony said, his eyes widening. "Make sure to keep up!"
The motions of Tony's wrist became more angular, and the next beast rose from the earth with a jangle of metal. Made of overlapping steel plates, it stood lifeless, its fangs glinting in the reddish glow.
Harry's wand swished, coaxing the steel to become flexible where it had to bend, and durable where it did not. Tony wasn't yet done with the next one, so he used the opportunity to add something frivolous. The construct's eyes lit with a mimicry of life, and throwing its head back, it howled as loud as a dozen wolves in concert.
"Show-off," Tony said, grinning as he finished up the second wolf for him to animate.
He returned the grin as he sent the construct loping toward the demon. "Let's see how the fucker likes that."
The fucker, as evidenced by a deafening roar, didn't like that at all. Whereas the live animals did little more than pester it, the enchanted steel fangs shred its hide in sprays of ichor. Ceasing its march, the demon stomped at their snarling murder machines, but for every one it turned into scrap, another took its place.
Tony quickly found his rhythm, and Harry no longer had the leisure to gawk. With the charmwork consuming his attention, he nearly failed to notice the demon capturing two steel wolves in its claws. Paying no heed to their biting and mauling, it cocked its upper arms and braced on the ground with the lower.
Tracing the likely trajectory with his gaze, Harry slapped his ear. "Ced, get down!"
With a whoosh of displaced air, the hunks of steel hurtled toward a distant robed figure. Impacting the ground with resounding thunks, they threw up spouts of dirt that obscured Cedric from sight. The demon trampled toward him, dragging several wolves that had latched onto its shins.
"Stay here!" Harry yelled before Apparating in.
Dirt rained on his head. Shielding his eyes, he looked around wildly until he found Cedric rising to his feet beside a crumpled construct.
"Cedric—"
The ground trembled, and Harry whirled to find the demon mid-pounce. His instinctive Banisher knocked aside an enormous claw so it passed above his head rather than lopping it off. Another burly limb lashed out at Cedric, who lurched back. The tip of a gleaming claw zoomed an inch from his throat, but just when it looked like he would escape unscathed, the claw reversed and backhanded him into the air.
Cedric collapsed in a heap, and the demon raised its arm for a finishing strike. Harry's heart stopped. Before his brain caught up, his wand began sketching intertwined ouroboroses.
The spell required uncompromising precision. Normally, it was something he only dared practice miles away from the nearest person. Yet he didn't pause to think, finishing the obnoxiously intricate gesture in the nick of time.
"Aevum Fugus!"
An umber bubble left his wand, and with a discordant noise of grinding gears, ballooned into a nebulous sphere that swallowed the hellspawn, arresting its momentum. As flakes of rust swirled within, the steel constructs crumbled to dust, grass decayed, and the rich black soil disintegrated into a grey powder. Even the stench of sulfur was replaced by something sterile. Yet the demon stood unchanged amid the desolation, stretching its claws at Cedric as though through molasses.
Harry gaped.
The horned head turned slowly toward him. "I AM TIMELESS, WORM. AS ALL IN YOUR PLANE WITHERS, I ENDURE."
Shaking off his shock, he crouched beside Cedric. His breathing was shallow, and blood trickled from his mouth. Harry shot up green sparks, then touched his ear, but before he could speak, Su appeared with a crack.
She gave the demon a wide-eyed look before casting spells at Cedric. Harry stood guard. The vortex of rust inside the sphere slowed, and the demon was close to wading out.
"He needs healing," she said.
"Go!"
No sooner had he spoken than he demon's arm hurtled from above like a toppling tree. At his gesture, an opalescent dome blocked the strike with a resounding clang. The crack behind him was drowned out by a flurry of attacks from all sides.
Sparks flared as razor-sharp claws screeched against the dome. It fractured. His ears rang with the impacts as he employed every ounce of his ability to maintain the shield. The instant he slipped up, the claws would break through, and he wasn't at all sure he could Apparate before getting torn to shreds.
Through the spider web of cracks, he saw white wolves doggedly tearing at the demon's ankles, yet it ignored them in favor of bigger prey. Its four arms coiled around the dome as though to crush it, and its maw stretched into an approximation of a sneer.
He fell to one knee, turning to Occlumency to stave off the mounting terror. While his wand repaired the shield, his mind ran through different scenarios and discarded them one after another. The slit-pupil eyes bore into him as the demon's chest distended. There might not be a way out. He plunged deeper into Occlumentic tranquility. There had to be.
The demon's serrated jaw unhinged, and hellfire flickered in its throat. He rose into a classic duelist's stance. Time paused in a moment of perfect clarity, the pinnacle of mind arts even their masters attained only once or twice in their lives. Flames spilled from the demon's gaping maw, consuming his vision. He stood resolute, reaching out to the crimson tongues as they did to him.
Crabbe had once told him that Fiendfyre was 'angry, but stupid.' It was only after he learned to beat its animalistic fury into submission that he understood how apt the description was.
Hellfire was different. It had a mind of sorts, or perhaps a melding of minds, driven insane by neverending agony. Its malicious intelligence sought to inflict the same suffering upon everyone and everything under the sky. The demon didn't so much command it as let it have its way.
Lifting his wand, he strengthened the connection, not to impose his will, but to soothe and quell. He wasn't an enemy, wasn't the source of their pain.
He wasn't prepared for the cacophony of disjointed voices that assaulted his consciousness.
Set everything ablaze—make it stop—destroy—hurts— reduce it to ashes—burn burn burn—
"Do you wish to end your pain?" he transmitted.
The fire roiled, the voices surrounding him. Smoke scalded his lungs, and he noted impassively that it must've been his clothes smoldering.
It speaks—who—it matters not—delicious soul—incinerate—turn to cinders—join us—
Any sweat had long evaporated, and his skin began to blister. Disassociating from the pain, he created an image of the demon in his mind. "You're many, and it is one. Destroy it and end your suffering."
Destroy the Tormentor—impossible—no prey spoke before—all thing burn—consume it!
The volume of the chorus rose to a crescendo. The flames surged, and with a vengeful shriek, descended upon the demon.
His legs gave out as the pain of his burns caught up with him. Someone was shouting in his ear, but he couldn't comprehend the words.
The demon became a blinding fireball, the heat searing his exposed skin. Shielding his face with a smoking sleeve, he scrabbled away. His parched lips cracked as he wheezed with effort.
A mighty roar had him flinching and covering his ears. The fireball exploded, revealing a sooty towering figure. It stamped its hoof, shaking the ground, then threw its head back and inhaled. The dispersed hellfire rushed down its gullet with a final desperate screech.
To Harry's dismay, the demon barely looked worse for the wear. One of its curved horns had splintered off, and patches of its hide were charred, but it was mending before his eyes. Its body steamed in the night cool as it tread forth, the bottomless pits of its eyes ablaze.
He rolled to evade a claw that plunged into the ground beside him. Pushing up, he sought the void of Apparition, but a blow strong enough to cause him to black out momentarily sent him soaring. Plopping almost gently on his back—hooray for the Cushioning Charms on his robes—he struggled to regain his wind.
The demon bent its gargantuan legs and leapt. He shakily raised his wand, but the fiend slammed down and pinned him with its monstrous hoof. He yowled in pain as the crushing weight drove the air out of his lungs, the wand slipping from his grip.
"EXPLAIN YOURSELF, MORTAL. SOULFIRE IS NOT FOR YOUR KIND TO WIELD."
He met its blazing eyes as his right hand fumbled desperately around the grass. "That wasn't even my best trick," he thought. "Leave the way you came before you get hurt."
The pressure increased, and he whimpered as his ribcage creaked and bent. Blackness crept around the edges of his vision, and his groping fingers lost their strength.
The demon lowered its head and growled, the sulfur on its breath stinging his eyes. "TELL ME AND YOUR DEMISE WILL BE QUICK."
His upper lip curled back. "More weight."
Through the rudimentary mental link, he felt the demon's fury spike. The weight abruptly lifted. He reflexively sucked in a rasping breath, only to choke as he saw the cloven hoof loom over his head. His limbs jerked feebly in an attempt to roll away, but his body was too battered to obey.
"Expecto Patronum!" a male voice rang out.
Silvery light flared in the corner of his vision, brightening even as the hoof descended. In a heart-stopping instant, he glimpsed a translucent peacock with a fanned tail, brilliant against the night sky, before it collided with the demon.
The hellspawn howled and reeled backward, cradling its blackened arm as its head swiveled in search for the foe who dared harm it. Harry shook off his surprise, and reclaiming his wand, scrambled away on all fours.
A soft crack heralded the arrival of Su, who slung his arm around her shoulders, hauled him to his feet, and Apparated. They landed a solid distance away, as evidenced by the dimming of the surroundings. He barely registered her misty dark eyes before another Unspeakable plucked his glasses off and thrust something like a perfume bottle into his face.
"Close your eyes."
"Wha—" Harry sputtered as a spray of liquid doused his face.
"And your mouth," the man said belatedly.
Grimacing at the disgustingly bitter taste, Harry wisely held his tongue. His ire was replaced by relief when a pleasant coolness spread over his burns, alleviating the pain. Once small deft fingers rolled up his sleeves and the cool liquid soaked his stinging hands, he dared open his mouth.
"Thanks... that helps."
"How is he?" Su asked.
"Some burns will require further treatment," the presumed Mediwizard said. The spritzing ceased, and a wand tapped Harry's ribs. "There's extensive bruising around the thoracic cage as well as numerous microfractures... hmm, what do we have here..."
"Verdict?" Su said tensely.
"He can still fight." The Mediwizard moved on to treat Harry's other hand. When he next spoke, his tone was apologetic. "I would evacuate him if it were my call, you know that—but even if we flout our orders, there's still his Unbreakable Vow to take into consideration."
Harry squinted at the dark blur that was Su. "Vow or not, it's our mess to clean up."
"And thanks to your friend's discovery, you even have a chance!" the Mediwizard said cheerfully.
Friend? Now that he thought of it, Tony didn't have a peacock for a Patronus, and Cedric didn't seem the type... A muscle in his cheek twitched as he connected the dots. Malfoy.
"How's Cedric?" he asked, trying not to think about the life debt he likely owed.
"Alive, but unconscious," the Mediwizard answered. "Lucky chap—he'll stay asleep until you defeat the demon or everyone in the country perishes." The blur that was Su shifted, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "My bad, just thinking out loud."
Su braced a palm on Harry's shoulder and dabbed around his eyes with a handkerchief before slipping his glasses onto his nose. Her pale face came into focus. He offered her a grin, which she didn't return.
"The fire," she said tremulously. "You were controlling it?"
"This is hardly the first time I've done something impossible," he said with perhaps more flippancy than his narrow escape merited. He glanced down at the hoof-shaped scorch mark on his robes—to think, Sirius had called him a nerd for spending weeks layering protections on these—then coughed and winced at a stab of pain in his throat. "Not that I'd like to try that a second time. Got any Pepper-Up?"
The Mediwizard pulled a vial from a belt case and pressed it into his hand. "Got something better."
Uncorking the piping-hot vial, he chugged it down. A spicy warmth rushed through his limbs, chasing away exhaustion. Giddy with energy, he met Su's intense gaze with a grin.
"We have work to do."
She drew a deep breath, nodded, and turned toward the red glow. Even at this distance, two silvery shapes could be seen darting around the towering demon.
Harry tapped his communicator. "Oi, I thought Dark wizards couldn't cast Patronuses."
There was a moment's silence before Draco answered, "Imagining you incinerated did the trick, Potter."
"Glad you're alright," Tony added. "Now help us out!"
He stretched, flinched, then slipped his wandtip under his collar for a quick Numbing Charm. The sight of the flame-shrouded figure wasn't conducive to any kind of happy thoughts. Aiming forward, he looked up at the starry sky.
A warm hearth, the smell of wood smoke, running water, fluffy feathers...
"Expecto Patronum!"
His palm warmed as his happiness assumed corporeal form, but when he lowered his gaze, there was no Patronus in sight. A gasp came from his side. Turning, he saw Su wrapped in throbbing silvery tentacles.
"Crap, sorry." Jabbing his wand, he pulled the Patronus away, its tentacles clinging to her waist before snapping off. At another insistent jab, the octopus reluctantly floated off toward the demon. Su wouldn't look at him.
"Expecto Patronum," she said, her voice wavering a little. A silvery fox appeared, twitched its large, perky ears, and bounded after the octopus.
The demon struck at the oncoming Patronuses, but its claws passed through them harmlessly, and they melted into its limbs, lessening its fiery glow. A furious roar reached their ears. With grim satisfaction, Harry prepared for another go. One could only fill themselves with happiness on demand so many times, but it helped that he had stocked up on good memories this spring.
"Why would Patronuses hurt it?" he asked, wrestling another octopus toward the demon.
"Demons are beyond Dark," Su said. "Your friend made an impressive deduction."
He gave her a mock glare as she launched another Patronus with enviable ease.
"I'll inform my team," she said, hope tinging her voice.
He nodded. "You do that. I want to test something."
Not waiting for an answer, he Apparated to a hill before the demon and set off down the slope. With the potion coursing through his veins, he felt he could move mountains. A hundred feet away, he started a brutal spell-chain; the demon presented such an enormous target the range was no issue.
The first curse splashed uselessly against its hide, not drawing its attention from another batch of Patronuses. He flung more as he walked. The second clipped its knee, making it stumble, and the third missed. At last, an acidic jet hit its blackened flank, causing its hide to bubble and melt, exposing the muscle fibers underneath.
The demon roared, its malevolent eyes zeroing in on Harry as its heavy legs bulged with tension. He spun on his heel, Disapparating as the hellspawn soared toward him.
Even in his new location, he felt the ground tremble with its landing; in his hurry, he hadn't gone far enough. The oversized goat's head swiveled, seeking him out, and the demon charged.
He eyed a faraway hill and focused on his destination. The demon barreled closer. As he was about to Apparate, a silvery light flickered at the edge of his vision. Pivoting, he saw half a dozen Patronuses galloping, flying, and scurrying to his defense.
The demon plunged its claws into the earth to bring itself to an abrupt halt. Tony's cuckoo dived at its head, forcing it to shield with its arms.
Harry whooped, then touched a finger to his ear. "Su, tell your people to keep it up. Tony, Malfoy—stop pussyfooting and hit it like you mean it!"
Draco sounded winded as he answered, "Be careful what you wish for."
"Gotcha," Tony said.
The three of them entered a deadly dance around the demon. As it lashed out at one, the others redoubled their efforts, curses unseen since the war leaving their wands in a flurry. All the while, silvery animals protected them from its flailing claws, making it howl in agony whenever they made contact. The burns they caused did heal, but slower than they were being inflicted.
The hellspawn's oppressive strength waned under the onslaught, and the swipes of its claws grew sluggish. Emboldened by the presence of the Unspeakables' Patronuses, the trio drew closer.
Ichor spurted from countless wounds across the demon's body, two of its arms hanging loosely at its sides. Its bulging chest was a mass of mangled flesh and splintered bones. At its center, a large crystal pulsed with a scarlet light. As though sensing Harry's gaze, the demon shielded itself with one of its functioning hands and snarled, spraying gobs of steaming spittle.
Su spoke in his ear. "The heart. Magpie says it's what tethers demons to our plane."
His eyes narrowed. "You heard her, lads!"
They hurled curses at the hand covering its chest. The demon roared, raised a less-damaged claw, and slashed down to sever its mangled limb at the shoulder. Seizing it before it fell, the hellspawn spun and lashed out with the improvised bludgeon.
He shielded, but not before some ichor splashed on his robes and ate into them with a sizzle. The severed limb glanced off and grazed the grass in a broad horizontal blow before sweeping Tony off his feet. As he landed with a wet thump, Harry swore and pelted the demon with the first hexes that came to mind to draw its attention away.
A close-by crack came, followed immediately by a faraway one. His communicator came alive. "I'll live... minute... patch up."
Harry had no time to be relieved; he was forced to shelter under a dome shield while the fiend furiously pummeled it with its makeshift weapon. A tiny arm was already worming its way out of its shoulder, and the pulsing heart disappeared under fibers of fresh muscle.
He tapped his ear. "Su, I need your team, all of it. At my signal, hit it with everything you've got." He strained his ears over the clangs of impacts. "Su, please. I know they have orders to keep their distance, but we can't win a battle of attrition—"
"Hold on," she said.
Releasing a breath, he traced his wand over the hairline cracks in the dome's surface to repair them. Flashes of light came from outside as Draco battered the demon from behind. At last, when a jet of yellow gouged a gash into its neck, it snarled and pivoted around.
Harry promptly Apparated, slumping to one knee on arrival. Wiping his forehead with a sleeve, he reached inward for his happy place.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A plume of silvery vapor dissipated in the air. He fanned it off irritably and took control of his breathing. While he was collecting himself, Su's tense voice spoke.
"You're connected. The team's standing by."
"I could kiss you," he muttered. "Expecto Patronum!"
The octopus's bulging eyes gave him a dejected look before a jab of his wand sent it sailing off. He shot up sparks and touched his ear.
"Right, folks in grey, I need you to get over here and conjure as many Patronuses as you can. Er... you can hear me, right?" He drummed his finger against the communicator.
Su said, "One-way."
"Oh." He glanced around the field. "Well, like I said, you have to—"
He flinched as a series of loud cracks announced the arrival of the Unspeakables. Their coordination was a sight to behold: where Harry's group had jumped around haphazardly, they appeared in neat clusters of three, forming a loose half-circle facing the demon.
When the entire team was present, a witch at the edge exclaimed, "Triple hazard pay!"
In response to this strange battle cry, the rest raised their wands and chorused, "Expecto Patronum!"
With a dazzling burst of silver, a legion of Patronuses swarmed the demon, drowning out its fiery aura. Canines bit, felines mauled, equines trampled, birds pecked, and an octopus disgustedly poked a silvery tentacle at its head.
Maddened, the demon clawed vicious gashes into its own body. When the Patronuses faded, it was left swaying on its feet. Its eyes, their blaze dulled yet alive, sought out the humans. It staggered forward and roared, a spark of crimson flaring in its open jaws.
Someone yelled, "Evacuate!"
"Belay that!" Harry shouted, and embraced insanity.
Staring into the demon's malefic eyes, he strode to meet it. Hellfire mushroomed in its maw, and cries rang behind him, but his steps didn't falter. Did the pathetic wretch believe it could wield Soulfire better than him? It would have millennia to rue its blunder after its own weapon banished it back to Gehenna.
Coming to a halt before its ravaged figure, the Eternal Warlock placed one hand behind his back and assumed a duelist's pose. The intensifying heat singed his face, but his heart pumped with excitement. He couldn't wait to reduce this impudent upstart to ashes.
Howling in frustration, the demon sucked the flames down and lifted a crippled limb to crush him.
"Now!" he yelled. "Aim high!"
His back tingled as dozens of multicolored jets sailed overhead to strike the demon, illuminating the field bright as day. The hellspawn cowered as its resilient flesh was mercilessly hacked away.
"Chains," Harry mumbled, tapping his ear. "Anyone handy with Transfiguration, chain it down, now."
"What would you ever do without me?" Tony said.
The voice hadn't come from the communicator but from behind, and Harry glanced back to find his best mate grinning weakly as he leaned on Su. Bruised all over and tottering on his feet, Tony nevertheless stepped up to the task. Steel chains the thickness of a man's arm erupted from the earth and wrapped the demon's neck, pulling it down. As it clawed at them feebly, more chains appeared and immobilized its limbs.
The hellspawn roared in impotent fury, shaking as it struggled to free itself. Its heart was in full view, bathing the scene in ominous scarlet light and casting fitful shadows on the scarred ground. Pulsing veins were bursting out of it to reconnect with the surrounding flesh.
Harry took aim. "Confringo!"
The blast seared off the forming tissue, yet did not damage the crystalline surface beneath. His second curse fared no better, and in seconds, the flesh was regrowing.
"Move over, Potter." Malfoy stalked closer, his smudged face twisted in hate. "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry unconsciously stepped back and held his breath. The burst of emerald clashed with the scarlet for a split-second before fading. The heart kept pulsing.
Recalling Moody's lesson from years ago, he asked, "Sure you cast it right?"
Malfoy glared at him. "Positive."
"Well, you must've done something wrong, look—" Harry gestured at the demon, only to jump back when its chipped claw twitched, rattling the chains.
"If you can do better, go ahead. I doubt you're even capable of magic of this caliber." Retreating to a safer distance, Malfoy glowered at the hellspawn as though insulted by its refusal to die.
The Unspeakables converged around the demon, some reinforcing its bindings, others poking and prodding at its flesh as if they hadn't been terrified out of their wits mere minutes ago. A Patronus splashed at the heart, followed by spells Harry couldn't place. Nothing so much as dented it, and the demon was regenerating all the while.
He trudged up to Tony, who looked as knackered as he himself felt. "Reckon I'm gonna have to pull a Voldemort."
"You mean..." Tony looked up.
Spells of unnatural colors streaked at the heart. One Unspeakable got levitated up and hacked at it with a hammer and chisel until the demon contorted its neck and gored him with its horn. The poor sap screamed and vanished in a blur of a Portkey.
"Exactly," he said over the Unspeakables' agitated babble. "Only I don't fancy ending up like that bloke."
Tony shuddered. "Right. Let me handle this."
Screwing up his face, Tony thrust his wand at the smoldering grass before the demon. A large mound rose and ruptured releasing a massive snake made of grey rock.
Harry gesticulated at the Unspeakables. "Get away!"
The serpent shot up, gaining height until it was thrice as tall as a man before bending to plunge into the demon's chest. Its stony jaws creaked as they tightened around the glowing crystal; Tony's arm jerked, and with a wet tearing noise, the snake lurched back ripping it out.
A bang drowned out the rising cheers, and the snake froze mid-air, chips of rock crumbling off its surface. Harry pivoted to see Tony splayed on his back, his hair standing on end. Ozone wafted through the air.
"Damn feather hates working earth," Tony slurred, reaching for the smoking wand on the ground, only to yelp and flinch away. Staring at it ruefully, he cradled his hand. "It's been giving me trouble the entire night."
Harry shook his head as Su and a familiarly built Mediwizard rushed up to Tony. "Should've told me, mate."
"Another elixir might put him back on his feet," the Mediwizard said, "although there would be a risk of an overdose. Doe brews them strong."
"His wand's out of commission." Su crouched to press a trinket into Tony's hand. "You've done all you could."
Tony exhaled, tension leaving his body as if those were the words he'd been waiting for—which, given the wording of their Vows, might not have been far from the truth. He met Harry's eyes before the Portkey whisked him off to parts more pleasant.
"Guess it's just you and me now, Draco." Harry regarded the demon. Bereft of the heart, its chained husk was blackening and flaking like ash. "We kicked its arse good, huh?"
Malfoy pointed upward. "It's about to grow a new arse that will need kicking all over again." There, in the jaws of the stone serpent, the heart had already covered itself in a layer of fresh tissue. "And don't call me by my first name. It's creepy."
Making a mental note to do exactly that, Harry contemplated Tony's snake. He tapped its tail with his wand, charming it more malleable, then coaxed it to coil onto itself and lower its head to shoulder height.
A stalk formed on the heart's fleshy surface, and an eyeball ballooned at the end, burning crimson surrounding a vertical pupil. He derived great pleasure from impaling it with his wand.
"Merlin's beard, stop playing with it," Draco said as the eyeball popped with a squelch.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm handling it." Harry reached for the ball of flesh, only to yank his hand back as a spiky tentacle pricked him. "Oh, is that how you want to play? Reducto!"
A foul-smelling goo drenched him, making him regret his choice of a spell, but the blast did expose the crystal. Battling nausea, he pressed his palm to it and took it into his malletspace. The field darkened momentarily before his glasses adjusted. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve, gagged, then siphoned the goo off with his wand.
"Well." Taking off his smudged glasses, he cleaned them too. "I believe this is it."
After a moment's silence, the Unspeakables exploded into cheers and incredulous laughter. Someone came up to clap his back, but he was blind as a mole at the moment so their identity remained a mystery.
"What did you do?"
Harry put his spectacles on, and Malfoy's grimy face sharpened. "It's obscure magic. I doubt you're capable of it."
Malfoy bristled, then shook his head. "As long as that takes care of the thing."
Su tugged on his sleeve, holding one hand against her ear. "Louse wants confirmation the threat has been neutralized."
"Sure, got the bugger right here," he said, smiling tiredly. "Tell him he can have a look if he asks nicely."
He glanced into his malletspace, only to freeze. A sphere of raw flesh pulsated in the void, roiling with undulating tentacles and swiveling eyeballs. His skin crawled as every eye turned to peer at him, their pupils narrowing in disturbing unison.
"THIS PRISON CANNOT HOLD ONE SUCH AS ME."
The tentacles billowed, making him feel as though his skull was being scraped from the inside. Shutting his mind's eye, he doubled over and retched. Every last fiber of his being screamed at him to expel the thing, but he resisted.
"Harry!" Su laid a palm on his back.
"We have a problem." His heart raced with terror and revulsion no Occlumency could keep at bay. "It's still regenerating, it's... shit, it's crawling around, staring at me! How can it do that, how the fuck can it do that?"
Her eyes widened. "Perhaps, existing partly in another plane, it's not bound by the laws of ours."
"Theorize later!" He backed away, waving off Su and the other Unspeakables; Draco astutely put some distance between them himself. "I don't know what's going to happen! You guys are smart, think of something! Like, right bloody now!"
Su launched into a rapid-fire explanation as her colleagues congregated around her, occasionally chiming in with jargon Harry neither understood nor cared to ruminate over. As seconds ticked on, more and more wands rose to point in his direction. It was almost reassuring.
Dreading what he would see, he peered into his pocket dimension and gasped. A rawboned goat's head sneered at him, revealing a jaw of jutting teeth. The demon had transformed into a gaunt humanoid with spindly limbs that appeared too fragile to support their ten-inch claws. Behind its skinny back, a wiry tail sporting a vicious scythe whipped side to side. Its body gained substance as he looked on, and he knew it was approaching the limit of what his malletspace could hold.
For a moment, he dared hope it would be contained, but the pressure mounting in his skull and the demon's widening sneer disabused him of that notion. It intended to bust itself out, and he could only pray it wouldn't be through his chest.
"Incoming!" he yelled.
His warning wasn't a moment too soon. The pressure in his skull exploded, and slashing claws was the last thing he glimpsed in his mind's eye before he was robbed of it entirely.
Reeling, he swatted aside a pair of robes that burst into being before him and beheld the gaunt figure with his flesh-and-blood eyes. Something red fluttered above its bony shoulder, disappearing into the night sky a second later.
The demon's narrow hooves tread lightly across the grass as it tested its legs. Despite its ghoulish thinness, it stood a head above him. It turned to face him, and for an instant, neither moved.
His wand hand twitched, and the demon kicked off, closing the distance in an eyeblink. Abandoning the spell, he raised both hands to protect his throat, feeling razor-sharp claws slash his forearms. Crying out, he staggered back.
Incantations rang out, and silvery lights illuminated the surroundings. As the demon whirled toward the new threat, Harry growled and trained his wand on its back. Almost as an afterthought, its tail lashed out, slicing cleanly through his wrist. Without a backward glance, the demon sprang at the Unspeakables.
He stared aghast as his severed hand, wand and all, fell to the ground. Blood spurted out of the stump, staining the grass crimson. Pain hadn't set in yet, and as he collapsed to his knees, his first thought was, not again!
An agonized scream pierced the haze clouding his mind. He scrabbled for his wand, whimpering as he brushed the warm fingers of his right hand, and aimed at the stump.
"Ep-Episkey. Episkey, Episkey!"
Whether it was because of his trembling or the extent of the injury, but the spell did little to stanch the bleeding. He ended up wrapping the stump with his sleeve and binding it with a conjured cord. Blood continued to seep through, but it was the best he could do.
Releasing a shuddering breath, he poked his severed hand to take it in, but it lay obstinately on the grass. He settled for casting a food-preserving charm over it before raising his head.
A blur of claws tore through the field, leaving fountains of blood and flying limbs in its wake, the dismembered grey-robes vanishing in swooshes of Portkeys. Their remaining number fought valiantly, jumping around with cracks of Apparition, but the demon was too fast to pin down.
Harry rose an inch, only to sag again. He pocketed his wand, and clenching his jaw, braced his hand against the ground for another attempt. His palm encountered something hard and smooth, and it cracked under his weight.
Lifting the object, he recognized the acorn the dryad had given him what felt like ages ago. It had split, releasing green tendrils that writhed in his palm soaking up the blood. Not content with that meager moisture, one stabbed into his skin.
He yelped and shook it off before it could burrow deeper, catching the seed between his fingertips. Its offshoots, more sprouting by the moment, wriggled hungrily in the air. He stared at it, then at the demon.
"Oi!" he shouted, tottering toward it. "Your opponent is me!"
The demon halted in its tracks and swiveled its head his way. Its eyes narrowed. Wrenching its claws out of a partially dissected Unspeakable, it skittered toward him like a praying mantis, its elongated limbs carrying it with unnatural swiftness. Farther afield, jets of light left Su's and Malfoy's wands, but the hellspawn zigzagged, dodging them.
Harry's fist clenched around the squirming tendrils, and he bent his knees to brace for impact. The demon darted left, then right, and then it was before him, dripping with crimson blood. His stomach exploded in pain.
"Hurk," he said, staying on his feet solely because any movement intensified the agony. His muscles spasmed around the four razor-thin claws embedded in his abdomen.
"THE POWER YOU THREATENED ME WITH WAS A LIE." The claws sank deeper, and his consciousness wavered. "SUFFER FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, PRETENDER."
He slung his handless arm around the demon's neck in a mockery of a hug. "Think again, fucker."
Rearing his fist, he rammed it down its throat. Serrated teeth shredded his flesh, but he shoved the acorn in as deep as he could before yanking his hand out in a spray of blood.
The demon staggered back and ripped its claws out of his torso to scratch at its throat. Its jaw unhinged as though to roar, but only a strangled noise came as greenish tendrils slithered out and started twining around its head.
He swayed on his feet, clutching his belly with his mangled hand. His breath came in short bursts, each resulting in a wave of pain. No giving up now. He had to see this through.
Countless green shoots skewered the demon's sides, and it collapsed to its knees. As it turned its blazing eyes upon Harry, he saw one of them being devoured from the inside.
"Warned you," he transmitted.
Screams of rage filled his mind, fading as the demon keeled over. Its claws scraped at the ground until its arms went limp and green tendrils burst from the destroyed joints.
He squinted through blurry eyes. The demon's desiccated body disappeared under a cocoon of plant matter. Only the heart remained intact, the pulsing glow visible even through the writhing vines.
He frowned. The glow intensified with each pulse, and a malevolent screech became audible. As a trail of smoke rose from the middle of the cocoon, he pulled back in a panic. This was supposed to work. It had to.
"C'mon, stupid acorn," he said, barely moving his lips.
The glow changed from scarlet to yellow to a white so bright it hurt to look at. The tendrils around withered and combusted. Droplets of hellfire enveloped the heart, proliferating with each passing second.
The thuds of his heart were painful and loud, his blood flowing hot against his palm. He couldn't think of anything. The demon would resurrect itself and kill him—if he didn't collapse first. His gaze lifted to a pair of blurry figures racing toward him. Then it would slaughter everyone else.
All because of his bout of insanity.
His mouth twisted sardonically. It was difficult to muster up remorse when he didn't remember a thing. No, if there was something to blame himself over, it was charging in recklessly. Stupid Vow, and stupid him for taking it. Pledging his best efforts, when he had no lack of brainless ideas, had been entirely Gryffindorish.
Come to think of it, he was a Gryffindor. He giggled hysterically, only to grimace and clutch his stomach. He had even hung that ridiculous certificate on his wall for a laugh.
Questing tendrils burrowed into the soil seeking nourishment, but the heat radiating off the heart charred them. Undeterred, the remaining vines threw themselves at the conflagration in their midst and turned to ash.
Never giving up was an admirable trait, but a fat lot of good it had done them.
His head shot up, causing pain to lance down his stomach. He was a Gryffindor. The Gringotts certificate wasn't the only proof. There had been one before it.
He stared at the heart. It was immune to magic, but then, so was basilisk hide. Almost of its own accord, his hand rose skyward. He licked his lips. The legends said the sword would appear in times of great need; he figured a demonic incursion measured pretty high on the scale.
"The—the world's in danger," he croaked.
Hellfire surged to incinerate the remnants of the greenery, then faded, leaving a scorched circle in its wake. Overgrowing flesh buried the heart's glow.
"Your descendant summons you, Sword of Gryffindor. Er... I need you, Founder's Blade. Come forth, oh legendary... legendary..." His arm drooped as his strength waned. "There's a demon that needs stabbing, and I could use some bloody help!"
His vision swam from the last-ditch effort, and he locked his knees lest he collapse where he stood. Voices were calling out to him, but his brain was too foggy to process what they were saying.
Golden flames burst overhead. A phoenix song broke through the droning in his ears, energizing his leaden limbs. Before he could so much as blink, something large and cushy flopped onto his head. He gasped.
"Goodness, you've got yourself into a right pickle this time, haven't you, Mr. Potter?" said a nostalgically familiar voice. "Well, what are you waiting for? Draw it!"
Harry winced as he was brained by something hard. He nudged up the Sorting Hat's brim and wrapped his slick fingers around a cool hilt. His hand trembled as he pulled, allowing the sword to swing down into the ground. Dragging it along, he wobbled toward the heart. It had grown an eye or ten, all of them glaring at him. The sword better pierce it, or they were doomed.
"This won't be the first demon Godric's sword has slain," the Hat said. "Finish this before you give up the ghost."
Tightening his bloody grip, he keened as he lifted the blade. It felt like minutes until its gleaming tip was poised to impale the heart. The demon was creating tiny appendages with what flesh it had at its command and wriggling away. Its howls pervaded his mind.
Inhaling against the pain, he drove the sword down with a cry. The impact jarred his arm, and for a terrible instant, he feared the Hat had been wrong; then the blade sank in with hardly any resistance, causing him to stumble.
Cracks spread from the puncture, leaking blinding scarlet light. The heart pulsed, each throb brighter than the last, until it ruptured in a retina-searing explosion. He felt weightless for a moment before darkness claimed him.
Harry opened his eyes to darkness. His head lay on something soft, and a hand was stroking his hair. A blurry person was silhouetted against the starry sky above, and as he squinted, something wet fell on his cheek. He sucked in a breath, his stomach clenching in anticipation of pain but feeling none. The cool air carried a hint of jasmine.
"Su," he said, "you crying?"
The fingers in his hair froze. "How do you feel?"
He took his time considering the question before sighing contentedly and closing his eyes. Nothing compelled him to get up, to act. "Sleepy. What happened?"
She made a noise between a laugh and a sob. "You. You happened. Even though everyone said it was futile." Her legs shifted slightly underneath him. When she next spoke, her voice was steadier. "Mediwizards came after you finished it. Your friends survived."
He swallowed. "And your team?"
She stayed quiet for a while. "Thanks to Overseer controlling the Portkeys, there were no fatalities."
That was something, at least: as long as one lived, magic could heal almost any physical damage. "Was I out for long?" He patted his stomach, the bandages swathing his right hand brushing its bare skin. "Nice, I see they had time to put me back together."
She bent lower to clasp his other hand. "Not entirely," she said softly. "I'm sorry."
Furrowing his brow, he wiggled what felt like three—no, three-and-a-half digits. Well... the demon choked on them in the end.
Something buzzed at the edge of his hearing, and Su cocked her head. She muttered something, so quietly Harry thought he might have imagined it, and let go of his hand. "They want to debrief me."
"Reckon you gonna get chewed out for disobeying orders? If old Louse gives you trouble—"
Everything went black. Strands of hair tickled his face as soft lips pressed insistently to his. His eyes widened in surprise. Su drew back and eased his head off her lap. Cool metal frames slid over his temples.
Propping himself up on an elbow, he adjusted his glasses and blinked owlishly. "Su?"
She met his eyes before looking away, her cheeks tinged pink. "For luck."
"Er... not that I'm complaining, but aren't you meant to do that before the big battle?"
She gave a tiny laugh. "You were the one who taught me about death flags."
He gaped at her before chuckling. "Can't believe you still remember that. Listen, um—"
"I have to go," she said, and pulled up her cowl.
He rose shakily to his feet and opened his mouth, but she Apparated before he could speak. He blinked at the spot she vanished from, then sighed. There would be time to figure this out later.
A cool breeze made him shiver and draw the tatters of his robes around him. Unspeakables spread across the field, waving their wands and taking notes and picking up samples of the omnipresent ash. Lanterns floated in the air to aid lesser beings not equipped with enchanted eyewear.
A glint of metal caught his eye, and spying a sword sticking out of scorched ground, he trudged toward it. A cowled wizard with an antique camera hanging from his neck ran up to meet him.
"Aha! Mr. Potter, what an honor, what an honor!" The Unspeakable raised his palms sheepishly to display blistered skin. "Forgive me for not shaking your hand... I'm in quite a bit of pain."
Harry glanced at the sword and made the connection. "Not a Gryffindor, I take it?" Clasping the hilt with his unbandaged hand, he pulled it out with a grunt. The gleaming steel reflected the moonlight, not a chip marring the blade.
"Remarkable, most remarkable!" The flashes from the Unspeakable's camera made Harry squinch his eyes. "Are there others who can wield it? You must bring it to Level Nine for further study!"
He eyed the sword, pondering. "I think... it belongs at Hogwarts."
The hilt seemed to grow warmer at his words. He nodded to himself. The fabled weapon had actually, unbelievably, come to his aid, and the least he could do was return it to its rightful place.
He looked around until he located the Sorting Hat in the arms of an Unspeakable. Another stood nearby cradling some kind of a fledgling chick in her palms. Harry plodded toward them. The sword weighed heavily in his mangled hand, and in an act of habit, he attempted to take it into his malletspace. Nothing. Frowning, he rested the blade flat against his shoulder.
The photographer followed at his heels. "Mr. Potter, please! The Sword of Gryffindor is a priceless artifact. If a situation like this occurs again, it could be our only weapon!"
He continued slowly but steadily toward his goal. Fragments of a conversation and pitiful cheeps carried to his ears. "Why don't you take it, then?"
The photographer spluttered. "I thought I made it clear—the reaction to my attempt was violent and not at all pleasant!"
He nodded, more convinced than ever that he was doing the right thing. "I'm sticking it up that hat, and that's that."
