Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.
Chapter 18 – Hellfire Mantle
Dear Harry,
Thank you for your letter. We are glad to hear from you. To be honest, it has addressed many concerns that we have had since the summer, especially regarding your circumstances.
It would mean a lot to us if you could come over to the Diggory Residence to talk more – perhaps for lunch on Christmas Eve. If you are able, we would also appreciate it if you did not inform too many others about our meeting, since we would not want any nasty reporters or Albus Dumbledore himself (judging from your own letter) intruding on our peace and quiet.
We await your reply.
–Amos and Willow Diggory
"What's that?" Luna asked.
"The Diggorys replied. They say they want to meet for lunch during Christmas Eve." Harry folded the parchment and returned it to its plain envelope. "Did you know about the funeral, Luna?"
"Yes." Luna said solemnly. "My family lives in Ottery St. Catchpole too, and Mumm–my mother was friends with Amos' wife."
"You can say Mummy, it's fine." Harry lightly teased.
"Hmph." Luna gave a small pout, which Harry found ridiculously adorable. "Have you found out if you could come over during winter break?"
Harry looked around for a moment. The only other occupants of the room were Neville, Terry, and Susan, who were playing Gobstones.
Neville's really came into his own. I guess giving him vice-leadership of this little place helped, since he has something more than his Herbology talent now. And his muscles are becoming more obvious from all that exercise. Well, if anything happens to me, all of them will be in good hands…
"Harry?"
"Yes, Luna?"
"Are you coming over for Christmas?"
"Ah." Why was he looking around cautiously again? Right, because he was going to mention– "Sirius said it would probably be fine."
"Okay. I'll tell Daddy. He's going to be happy to have more people around."
"Right." Harry said absentmindedly, and returned to his Transfiguration essay.
A while later, he left for the Room of Requirement for his usual routine, bidding everyone goodnight, all the time missing the faint look of worry that Luna had on her face.
~~[q]~~
"Tempus." Harry noted the time, half past ten, and looked around the seventh-floor corridor. In three hours he would emerge from the Room, hidden under his Cloak, and spin back three hours to this very time.
Despite his willingness to use such a questionable artefact, Harry was not completely uncautious. His liberated Time-Turner seemed to be an older version – unlike the one Hermione had in Third Year, it only allowed one to spin back three hours, instead of the maximum five hours permitted by Croaker's so-called Law.
He was also following Dumbledore's warning to not be seen by your past self as well. While much of his respect for (and desire to please) the grandfatherly wizard had evaporated, Harry still acknowledged that the old man had a ridiculous amount of experience.
Particularly if he defeated his own Dark Lord back then. But then again, he probably wasn't dropped off with Muggle relatives and brought up with no training.
Harry shook his head, returning from his tangent. He also noticed that he had become more easily distracted as of late, as well.
A side-effect of the Time Turner? Or just because fucking Voldemort isn't letting me have restful sleep?
It was just as well that Occlumency trained its practitioners to be better able to focus their minds.
The tradeoff should be worth it. Three extra hours every day…every single advantage that I have, I need to take.
As his hand came to rest on the doorknob, Harry instinctively ducked down and to the right, avoiding the Stunning Spell that splashed into the door at head height.
"Protego!" In an instant, his wand had leapt into his hand, and his shield materialized just in time to catch another Stunner, the feel of which Harry was now well-acquainted with, thanks to long sessions of both teaching and practice. Not wasting any more time, he flung open the door and retreated into the Room.
If he had time to leisurely consider his surroundings, he would have noted that the Room was not in the form that he usually envisioned. With no coherent thought to guide its form at the point of his entry, the Room of Requirement had returned to its default state: the size of large cathedral with high windows, containing towers of objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts' inhabitants.
This was lost on Harry as the door banged opened almost instantly, and a yelled incantation soared over to him.
"Expulso!"
Harry dived to the side, executed a perfect roll, and sprang up, already ready. "Stupefy!"
"Firaga!"
Harry's eyes widened only momentarily, as he wandlessly Summoned a stack of broken drawers to bear the brunt of the fire. Multiple conclusions flashed into his mind, so quickly that he wouldn't have been able to articulate them: that the fire spell used was not in Hogwarts' curriculum, meaning that his opponent had trained to fight or had experience somewhere else, and would be much more skilled than an ordinary Hogwarts student.
"Incendio!" Fire clouded his vision again, and Harry scrambled to put up his shield. However, almost immediately, it was followed by a distinct shout of–
"Svax! Stupefy!"
A bright blue spell shot through the flames and impacted Harry's Protego, shattering it. As he flinched from the backlash, an instinctive head tilt to the side saved him from getting Stunned.
Unknown spells. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Harry turned tail and ran, Banishing random items from the towering piles as he went.
"Ventus! Ventus!" More shouted spells came from behind him as his opponent blasted his attempts out of the way, the surge of wind causing Harry's robes to flutter.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Harry shouted desperately.
"Your silence, Potter!" his opponent yelled across at him. "Firaga!"
You're not the only one that knows that spell. "Firaga!"
In the corridor between the towers of junk, Fireblast met Fireblast in equal measure, and a wall of fire erupted, stretching to the newly-high, cathedrallike ceiling of the Room. Items made of wood, parchment, and other similar materials began to smoulder and burn.
It was a clash of wills, much like the phenomenon that occurred between Harry and Voldemort on that night at Little Hangleton. On a level deeper than conscious, Harry understood so, and broke off first, yet again resorting to Banishing items.
"Ventus! Ventus!Enough with the parlor tricks, Potter!"
As what looked like multiple table legs shot towards him, Harry gritted his teeth and Summoned his returned projectiles, increasing their velocity–
–only to twirl, and send them back yet again at his opponent in a slingshot manoeuvre. A yelp of pain indicated a glancing hit.
Momentum, huh? I'll thank Su for that martial arts demonstration later. But for now…
There were many things Harry could have done. He could have started to subdue his opponent in a more precise and controlled manner. He could have attempted again to seek out an explanation, knowing that he could duel well enough to defend himself for the most part.
But…even putting mental instability aside, Harry was hungry, even if he didn't know it. He had been waiting, waiting for a chance to let loose, waiting to unleash the full brunt of his newly acquired skills onto a real, deserving enemy, to finally prove his mettle and release retribution onto Voldemort and his followers.
There was a pause as Harry's eyes met his opponent's: dark brown, under choppy hair of the same shade.
"Carrow. So, you're the enemy, huh?"
The same dark eyes narrowed as the Slytherin girl tried hard to control herself. "Submit to an Obliviation of the past two weeks, and I promise you that you won't be harmed."
"Okay." Harry said, raising his arms in the air. He did not miss the momentary flash of relief in the girl's face, a weakness. "I'll do that as soon as you concussus stupefy stupefy stupefy!"
Time to seize the initiative.
"Finite!" A wave of Carrow's wand negated the Concussion Hex before it burst into sound and light, and she contorted her body, avoiding all three Stunning Hexes. Her expression of exertion morphed into an expression of anger, and her next spell was a roar. "Luciferion Ignis!"
What the fuck is that spell?
A torpedo of purple fire surged across towards him, and the palpable aura of concentrated dark magic sent alarm bells ringing in Harry's mind.
Dark magic? How angry are you, woman? Also, can you get angrier? Let's find out!
"Acculeus!" As Harry flicked his wand for a playful Stinging Hex, he noted, out of the corner of his eye, how the purple fire ate away at the old pewter cauldron unlucky enough to be in its path.
The taunt appeared to have the desired effect.
"Tokamak Vspyshka!" Harsh Russian cut through the air, laced with hatred. A surging pulse of blue plasma missed him, and Harry ran for his life, the tang of ozone hanging heavy in the air.
We are now…playing with fire. The pun came into his mind, and Harry laughed out loud as he ran, despite the obvious peril.
"What the fuck is so funny, Potter? Get back here! Expulso! Paonazzo Tuono!"
There was a boom of an explosion, followed by a flash of purple light, and Harry weaved behind a mound of detritus and prepared his next attack.
Bitch has quite the arsenal, but spells don't matter if they can't even land!
"Depulso! Incarcerous!"
Vanished objects go into non-being, but Banished objects go where they were sent. Even while pelted by a small hill's worth of junk, however, Carrow dodged out of the way, and an old closet was wrapped in ropes instead.
But that wasn't all Harry had in mind.
Harry raised his wand, traced the rune called Thorn into the air, and followed it up with several circular motions. "Fulminis! Conseco Arctus!"
Lighting shot forth. In its light, for the briefest of moments, Carrow's face held an expression of shock. Then it passed, missing its target, but not before an arc of blue magic whipped down from above. That, too, missed the target of any limbs, but left a deep gash on the girl's face that cut to the bone.
Carrow's skin was already pale, but even it could further whiten with rage, as the girl called forth the darkest of her repertoire.
I'll teach you not to play with me, Potter!
"Asche Walpurgis! Onryou Kasha!"
Walpurgis was a German saint, known for her actions against witchcraft. On Walpurgisnacht, the night commemorating her canonization, it is tradition to light bonfires to drive away witches and evil spirits. The spell which holds her name is a angry, prickly crimson flame, and it burns not just matter, but the very magic ambient in the air.
The onryou, in Japanese folklore, are vengeful spirits, evil in life, their malice only growing with the theft of their corpses in death. The Fiery Chariot of the onryou manifests in flames of blue, both dark and light, multiple wisps bound together until they become a surging wave that consumes not just the flesh, but the energies of life itself that these same spirits now lack.
The twin fires surged forth, and Harry's momentary exhilaration at the duel evaporated.
I may have pushed her too far.
Even as they missed him directly, the very heat from them caused him to buckle to his knees, and his vision began to swim.
Memories began to surge forth: of the many times that he had collapsed from exhaustion, some which happened in this very Room itself; the fantasies and visions of Voldemort, which held Muggle cities in flame as retribution for his upbringing; and, as was almost inevitable, it returned to the graveyard, where Voldemort's will pressed into his, to force him to yield and submit.
Bow. Bow to death, Harry. Their deaths were painless, weren't they? I will make it quick.
"Like I would ever bow to you." Harry gritted his teeth, and stared back into Carrow's eyes. The girl's own initial indignance also now seemed to be fading, shrinking to a gnawing uncertainty as she realized the magnitude of the Dark magics she was casting forth.
The fires began to slow, but did not stop.
Then Harry raised his hand, and the mountain descended.
~~[q]~~
In the dust, Harry coughed.
Forcing himself to stand, he angrily strode over to the pile of junk in front of him. Unearthing a body, he shot a Stupefy into its arm, plus an additional Sommium for good measure. Then, he dragged it out onto clear ground, retrieved the wand that had fallen from its fingers, and pocketed it. Finally, he cast Incarcerous twice on the body, binding its arms to its sides.
Only then did Harry collapse to the ground, arse first. Noting that he might fall unconscious any moment, he sighed and retrieved a silver Sickle from his pocket.
Some things you can't do alone, huh? I'll probably have to give up the Room after this…but really, I should have been sharing it with the rest, or at least Neville and Luna, all along.
He placed his wand towards the Sickle's edge, and began to Transfigure his message.
Hlp. Cm to 7th flr corridor door opp tap of Barnabas the Barmy. B careful.
Then he crawled over to a cabinet, toppled on its side, leaned against it, and fell into a daze.
~~[q]~~
As one, the members that remained the classroom reached towards their pockets.
Neville reacted and stood first. "We shouldn't all go, not with Umbridge and her cronies running around. Susan, go back and find Hannah and Ernie, make sure they don't do anything rash. Luna–"
"I'm coming with you." Luna said. "Terry can go find Su."
Neville looked at the normally carefree girl, whose face now held a stormy expression. He recalled an earlier conversation, about how Luna would curse him with the true terror of the Lovegoods, and decided not press the matter.
He turned to Terry, but the boy evidently came to the same conclusion. "Yes, I'll do that. Send another message if you need us." He packed his things and left quickly, muttering all the while. "This is why we need the mirrors…Merlin-dammed magical crosstalk…"
Susan looked back at Neville. "You sure you don't need me?"
"I can handle it." Neville said back.
The two stared down each other for a few moments more, before Susan nodded. "I'll deal with Hannah and Ernie, then. Remember, no shame if you need reinforcements."
"No shame." Neville echoed, and Susan promptly left as well. He turned to Luna. "Shall we?"
~~[q]~~
Harry snapped back to attention as he heard additional footsteps.
"Want to explain what happened here?" Neville tone was light, but his words were serious, and his wand was drawn.
"This girl attacked me out of nowhere." Harry gestured to the bound and unconscious Carrow, and Neville looked towards her.
"Hestia Carrow," Neville said. "Sixth Year."
"You know her?" Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't know if it was just magical exhaustion, but there was a strange, irritating prickling in his scar.
"I know her sister." Neville extended a hand to Harry, and Harry grasped it and got to his feet. They walked over to the unconscious body, which Luna was already standing over, wand in hand as well.
"Luna–"
"Harry Potter." Luna said, an uncharacteristic frosty note in her voice. "You have some explaining to do, but that comes later."
Harry decided to not question the girl. "Fine. Now, I think it's time for me to get some answers. Rennervate."
Hestia's eyes snapped open and darted around. "Merlin's saggy ballsa–"
"Hestia Carrow. You want to tell me why you attacked me?"
"Fuck off, Potter." The girl spat at him. "Like I said, submit to an Obliviation and I will let you go."
"You'll let me go?" Harry laughed out loud. The prickling was getting worse, now, and he slapped at his forehead. "Aren't you the one tied up right now?" Neville put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry shook it off.
"Only for the moment." The girl smiled at him.
"In any case, what do you think is going to happen when we Stun you again and drag you before the Headmaster for using Dark magic and attacking me?"
"What do you think is going to happen when Umbridge finds out you've been in a duel? Or that you've been practicing magic after hours in some secluded room?" the girl shot back.
True. I haven't let Umbridge bother me since those bloody detentions ended, but she'll probably find an excuse to expel me. But still…
"Tempus. Well, we aren't after hours yet…ah." Harry's mind finally settled on another plausible reason. "Well, at least I'm mostly certain you're not trying to capture me on Voldemort's behalf."
"Thanks for the show of faith, Potter."
"Harry." Neville spoke up. "You do know that the Carrows are a known Dark family, right? Not that any of their family have ever been accused of being Death Eaters, but they supported You-Know-Who in the last war."
Harry thought about Sirius and the many stories his Godfather had told him about the Blacks. "A person's beliefs are their own. Besides, I've heard her true opinion under Firewhisky anyway."
The change of expression was obvious and unmistakeable.
"You don't know anything, Potter. They'd kill me if they knew. They'd kill Flora if they knew." Hestia began to shake.
"So just–"
"What, surrender to myself to Dumbledore? To the 'light side'?" Hestia laughed, derisive and mocking. "When they would shun me for using half the spells I used just now?"
Harry was about to give a retort when Neville interrupted. "Okay, stop. This isn't going anywhere."
Harry threw up his hands. "You think of a solution, then." He rubbed his forehead again. "Preferably one that doesn't involve her breaking free and Obliviating all of us." He walked back over to the fallen cabinet.
"We'll have to go to Professor Merry, then." Luna spoke up. "No other teacher's going to handle this with discretion."
"Yeah, sure." Harry snorted. The prickling in his scar still hadn't lessened, and to make matters worse, he was sure that someone or something was whispering to him.
Like I'm not already halfway to insanity. Cut it out.
"Merry hasn't seen me in weeks, and I used to go to her for…advice, regularly." There was audible bitterness in his voice. "I wouldn't count on her to be reliable." Looking around, he spotted the source of the whispering, and strode towards the offending object.
"That isn't fair to her, Harry." Luna pointed out. "You know she's been a better professor than literally any other teacher we've had the past few years. And it's also because she's been ill."
Harry did not respond.
"Harry?" Neville questioned. "Are you okay? And what is that?"
"A possible solution." Harry spoke. "To all of our problems."
Harry turned back to look at his friends, an old silver tiara seated on his brow.
Oh fuck.
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