HP and the Legend of the Golden Serpent

by Camille

COMPLETED! Sixteen years ago, a prophecy was made, and now it's time that it came true. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione begin their fifth year at Hogwarts, they are about to discover a secret, hidden for fifteen years . . .

31. Dueling with the Dark Lord

Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does.

Chapter 31: Dueling with the Dark Lord

"All right," Hermione said, straightening up, clasping a hand to her chest, "I've caught my breath, let's go."

Ron slowly turned to look at her, his face still red as he replied, "can't we wait a little longer, I think my heart is about to explode from my chest."

Hermione took a deep breath and sighed.

"Why'd she run?" she breathed, her eyes flitting to the dark forest ahead of them.

"Because she's being as smart as a garden gnome right now," Ron muttered angrily, deciding he wouldn't be nursing the stitch in his side if it hadn't been for Adrienne.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered, reaching up and grabbing his arm.

"Hermione?" Ron mimicked. "What?"

"Did you see that?" she asked, pointing into the forest ahead of them.

"Why of course I see it, I'm one of those people who don't need any light to see things," Ron said in a slow voice, "it's dark out, Hermione!"

"There it is again."

Ron stared out into the forest with his eyes squinted. "I see some shadowy trees… anything important about that?"

Hermione let go of his arm and started to run forward.

"Ron, you didn't see the light? It looked like someone cast a spell, come on!"

Ron stared after her for a second and then reluctantly followed.

"Did I mention I hate running? I spent all my childhood running from Fred and George and their spider collection. Now I feel that if I turn around I'm going to see a giant spider chasing after me. I hate running, Hermione!"

Hermione and Ron skidded to a halt outside the edge of the forest just as a large cloud covered the moon, casting them into an eerie blackness. Ron reached a hand into his robe and the slowly withdrew it, a defeated expression on his face.

"You, by any chance, have your wand with you?" Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione squinted into the forest, her hands on her hips.

"No, we couldn't bring them, remember?" she replied. "Harry?"

No one answered her except several hooting owls.

"Adrienne?" Hermione tried, but to no avail.

"She wouldn't answer you anyway, Hermione. You never apologized," Ron said haughtily. "Let me try. Adrienne? Adrienne?"

Hermione cast a dark glance at Ron. "She's not answering either one of us… neither is Harry."

"What happened to your usual ingenious analysis of situations?" Ron snapped, "You don't have to state the obvious."

"We'll just have to go find them," Hermione said, reaching down and pulling her robe up to her knees to prevent tripping.

"Yup, you know, we could have gone exploring in dark woods back at Hogwarts… at least we knew what was in there, you know, werewolves, giant man-eating spiders, other scary things. But no, we had to explore the woods here… Merlin, you know what could be in there?" Ron whined.

"Yes, Harry and Adrienne, come on."

With the moon covered, Hermione and Ron had great difficulty navigating their way through the brush and trees. The silent night was periodically interrupted with muffled screams of pain as heads ran into trees and feet caught on roots. Their yells of "Harry? Adrienne?" weren't answered, nor were Ron's pleas for them to turn back, his imagination telling him that any moment they'd enter a clearing that served as court for some horrible beast.

"Just a little further," Hermione urged Ron as the moon came back from behind the clouds.

"I sure do hope there aren't any werewolves in here. I mean, dark woods, full moon, young teens, this has the makings of every horror film we watched last summer," Ron said darkly. "Ouch!"

Hermione had stopped abruptly in the path. Ron, still staring up at the barely visible sky through the trees, ran right into her. He jumped back in surprise.

"Why'd you stop?" he hissed.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered back. She took a step forward, through the branches of several low hanging trees, and stopped again at the edge of a clearing.

"Did I mention dark creatures like clearings? I think Harry and I established that one already, we don't have to try and reprove the theory," Ron whispered to her.

Hermione didn't answer; she instead strode right into the middle of the clearing, her hands on her hips, her mouth pursed. Ron watched with mild trepidation from the trees, his skin rising in goose bumps, his ears suddenly picking up every little noise of the forest. His eyes flitted around nervously before fixating themselves on Hermione.

"Ok, what are you doing?" he asked.

Hermione looked up from the ground, her features disfigured by shadows. "I don't think they're here anymore," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Right… then where are they? And how do you know they were here," Ron replied, taking a deep breath and walking into the clearing.

"I don't know where they are… but they were here." Hermione repeated, crossing her arms. "We need to go find the professors."

Ron stopped next to her. "You don't think they're in trouble, do you?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Hermione turned her gaze back to the ground, to a spot hidden to Ron by her shadow. She slowly bent down and picked something up.

"They're not in danger, right?" Ron said, squinting to look at what she was now holding in her hand.

She turned, her arm extended so Ron could see better. Atop her open palm were a pair of glasses – a pair of black rimmed, circular lens glasses.

Harry was lying on the hard ground, and no matter how many times he blinked, he couldn't get his eyes to focus. He was vaguely aware of movement around him, but he was more concerned with the aching feeling in the back of his head. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember when he had felt that… the throbbing in the back of his head before. It wasn't like the pain he felt when near to Voldemort. Harry shut his eyes and lay there, thinking. And then, it hit him… he had felt like this his fourth year, after Ron had stunned him during one of their curse practices before the Third Task. Harry's eyes snapped open and he threw himself into a sitting position.

From what he could determine through his squinted eyes, he was in a large room. It was formidable looking and struck Harry as being perhaps a bank or a large ministry building. The far end of the room was lined with large pillars that reached high into the air, meeting with what looked like a balcony. The floor, Harry realized, was polished marble, the walls, a dark mahogany paneling. Parts of the room though, looked like they were still under construction. Large cauldrons were scattered around the edges and various large rolled parchments, which Harry could only assume were blueprints, were propped against them.

A sudden movement behind him caused him to start and he turned, squinting his eyes even more and trying to ignore the intensifying headache caused by his lack of glasses. He let out a soft groan when he realized who was behind him. Five wizards, clad in black robes and hoods, were grouped around a door, talking quietly, each fingering their wands as if itching to fling them in his direction and curse him into a million pieces. A hooded head turned and paused, facing Harry's direction. Harry quickly lowered himself to the ground and pretended to still be stunned, hoping that the Death Eater hadn't seen him sitting up.

"Potter's awake." The lone voice echoed through the large building. Next, the sound of footsteps rang through Harry's ears. "Boy, get up."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, wondering desperately what he was going to do. He didn't have his wand; he had been captured, and no one knew where he was… no one except Adrienne, maybe. This didn't comfort Harry: He had no idea where Adrienne was. He hadn't seen her when looking over the room. And even if she had escaped, would she know where he had been taken, would she get help?

"Listen to me, boy, cooperate and everything will be a lot easier on you," the Death Eater growled as he reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar, heaving him to his feet. Harry snapped his eyes open, having to readjust them to the lighting. He stared blankly at the Death Eater before him, wondering who he was looking at.

"Go tell him the boy's awake," the Death Eater called to those behind him. "You sure are a tricky one, aren't you?" The Death Eater had turned back to Harry, and had yanked him closer, pulling him up until Harry was on his tiptoes. Harry didn't say anything. "You think you're so smart, eh? Think you're something special? Let me tell you something, boy, death is the great equalizer… ready for a lesson?"

The Death Eater let go of Harry and gave him a sharp push to the chest before walking away. Harry cast another glance around the room, wishing desperately that he had his glasses, then at least he'd be able to see what was going on. He began to count the Death Eaters that were filing in from various doors that Harry hadn't noticed before. He had counted forty, but Harry wasn't exactly sure how accurate that was… he was beginning to see double. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Adrienne. If Adrienne was captured, she might have her wand, he thought, reaching into his robes one last time to make sure he hadn't missed his own, but he knew he wouldn't find it. Harry turned his attention back to the Death Eaters who were now standing in groups, staring at him and whispering ominously.

"One year without murder attempts, that's all I ask," Harry mumbled, sitting back down.

A dull hush befell the room as a slight jolt of pain swept over Harry. Harry didn't have to look up to see who had entered, he didn't have to listen to the murmur of "My Lord" to know whose footsteps were approaching him. Harry stared at the ground, cursing himself for not bring his wand. If he had just brought his wand… but he shook his head, his wand couldn't duel against Voldemort's; it wouldn't have been any use.

"Welcome to the reunion, Potter."

Still looking at the ground, Harry could see the black robe hanging before him.

"What, thought sending invitations was too conventional?" Harry snapped without looking up.

Voldemort stared down at Harry in mild amusement. "Very brave. Not the quiet little boy that everyone thinks you are?" Voldemort's pale face broke into a wide, lip-less grin. "Good, that makes everything far more entertaining."

Harry continued to look at the ground, vowing not to look up, vowing to not let Voldemort see the fear he knew was shining through his eyes. This is bad, he thought.

"Those aren't what I think they are, are they?" Ron asked, a horrified expression slowly crossing his pale face.

Hermione softly closed her hands around the glasses and looked up at him.

"Do you think Adrienne is with him?" Ron asked, wrapping his arms around himself, suddenly very cold.

"I don't think he's in better shape if she is," Hermione muttered darkly, "Harry can take care of himself… Adrienne… she might get them both killed."

"Great vote of confidence," Ron muttered. "Come on, let's go find Dumbledore, he'll know what to do."

Hermione nodded and made her way to the edge of the clearing. She was only feet away from the path when a popping noise emitted from behind her. She and Ron spun around; they're hearts rising in their throats. Someone was standing in the middle of the clearing. The tall figure stared at them for a second, its face hidden in the shadows. Ron swallowed hard and grabbed Hermione's forearm in a reassuring grip as the figure stepped into the moonlight. Hermione tumbled backward, her hand raised to her mouth, screaming loudly.

"Shh, they'll hear you," said a familiar voice. Professor Wallace lowered her Death Eater's hood and raised her hands into the air. "See, I'm not going to kill you."

"Good God!" Hermione moaned, and them her eyes widened in fear. "Good God," she repeated, "You're…"

"Spare me the lecture," Wallace snapped, "There's no time. He's got Harry and Adrienne." Wallace took a step closer to them, lowering her hands.

"You're a Death Eater," Ron said calmly, as if his teachers always turned out to be murderous villains.

"Well, if you want to get technical about it… I have the Mark, I have the outfit, I can even have the mean scowl," she paused and then narrowed her eyes, "What am I doing? I need you to take a message to Dumbledore."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew her wand. Hermione and Ron stepped back nervously.

"Accio glasses." Harry's glasses flew to her and she pocketed them before continuing. "Listen, tell Dumbledore that - "

"Stupefy!"

A jet of white light burst from the trees to Hermione and Ron's left, and Professor Wallace fell to the ground. Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her onto the path, tripping over roots and rocks.

"This is bad," he whispered as they crashed through the shrubbery, the footsteps of urgent Death Eaters following behind them.

"We can't just leave her!" Hermione hissed as they ducked behind a large willow tree, pressing themselves up into the shadows of the trunk.

"Do you prefer to go back and duel a group of Death Eaters without a wand… that makes for a cup of instant death any day, shh," Ron whispered into her ear.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Ron snapped his hand over it. Above Ron's heavy breathing, Hermione could hear the footsteps drawing closer, and then the shouts of, "They're gone."

After a few minutes, when no other sound existed except the chirping of crickets and the hoot of various owls, Ron withdrew his hand. Hermione took a deep breath and shut her eyes, her heart beating uncontrollably.

"How'd they sneak up so fast? Can you Apparate onto the Salem grounds?" Ron asked, wiping his sweaty face with his sleeve.

"Not unless the wards are down," Hermione muttered. "Wait, we might not be on the Salem grounds anymore…"

Ron rubbed his eyes and then stepped away from the trunk, slowly sticking his head out of the branches. "Come on, they're gone."

Hermione followed him out, having regained her composure, and started running in the direction of the school, Ron behind. The forest was a lot darker now, the moon having taken up a permanent residence behind a large dark cloud.

"It looks like rain," Ron heaved, as they broke out of the forest. Hermione didn't reply, and he quickened his pace to catch up to her, his hand holding the stitch in his side. "Where do you think Dumbledore is?"

"He won't be that hard to find," Hermione answered back as they drew nearer to the noisy stadium.

Voldemort snapped his fingers, the clicking noise echoing through the silent room, and ropes sprang from thin air, binding Harry's hands behind him. Voldemort's pale hand reached down, a long finger hooking itself under Harry's chin. A burning flash of white pain ran through Harry's body, and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming out. Voldemort tilted his head up.

"Did you loose your glasses?" Voldemort asked, a small smirk playing on his face, "Pity."

Harry stared at him for a second, his eyes boring into Voldemort's red, snake-like eyes.

"I'm not complaining," he said in a soft, but firm voice, "I don't have to look at you then."

Voldemort laughed – something that troubled Harry greatly.

"Your attempts to be pert are admirable, but it does not do one well to mock death… painless or painful… that depends on you and you alone."

Voldemort tightened his grip on Harry's face, sending currents of pain from the point of contact, causing him to whimper slightly.

"I admire your mother, even if she was a fool, she thought she was doing a noble deed, did she not? Thinking that even after her death, she could protect you? I admire her: She protects me too, her greatest enemy. That mix-up of hers, that mistake."

Voldemort eyed him, smiling as tears of pain began to fall down Harry's pale face. Voldemort looked at Harry closely, his red-eyes roving over the pale face before them, enthralled by Harry's attempts to keep calm, to not scream out in pain, to ignore his own suffering.

Voldemort dropped him, a satisfied expression on his face. He turned on his heel and walked away, his robes billowing behind him. Harry dropped to a kneeling position, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

"Your mother, boy," Voldemort began, turning back around to stare at Harry.

Voldemort was now standing in the center of the room; his Death Eaters still grouped around the outskirts.

"Enough about my mother," Harry called, standing back up. He squinted his eyes, ignoring the dizzying feeling, and stared at Voldemort. "My mother did greater things than you could ever do, than you could ever comprehend. You never thought I'd survive. You never thought she could save me," Harry said, his voice wavering slightly. "You may have killed her, but you didn't win."

"Touching," Voldemort replied, cocking his head to the side and grinning evilly at Harry. "You have so much faith in your family." Voldemort's lipless smile grew larger, his white teeth gleaming. "Perhaps your mother was noble, your father, though, was a fool. He died when he didn't have to… that is a foolish thing to do. He gave his life to buy you a measly fourteen years, when he could have sacrificed yours and lived much longer." Voldemort paused, realizing that he wasn't fazing Harry, that Harry wouldn't listen to anything he said about his parents. Voldemort dropped his smile and strode forward… he'd just have to try a different tactic.

Voldemort walked back into focus, and Harry's eyes widened with trepidation as Voldemort reached a long hand into his robes and pulled out his wand. He held the wand in the air, so Harry would see it clearly, and then, to Harry's confusion, reached his other hand into his robes and drew out another wand.

"It is better they are dead," he said in a soft whisper, so only Harry could hear. "Now they don't have to suffer the knowledge of knowing of their child's betrayal. They don't have to suffer the knowledge of knowing that the one they would die to protect, would be turned over to me by his own blood, his own sibling, his own sister."

Harry stared at Voldemort, his words playing through his mind. Adrienne, she wouldn't help him… would she? No! She wouldn't. Harry glared up at Voldemort.

"Adrienne would never do that," Harry said, suddenly calm. Voldemort was just toying with him, and he wasn't about to let him.

"I wouldn't bet my life on it," Voldemort hissed. He took a few steps backward, tightening his grip on both his wand and Adrienne's old wand. "Perfect, come here."

And it was then that Harry finally came to grasp with reality: He was kneeling in a large room filled with Death Eaters. He had his hands tied behind his back and his wand was an ocean away. His glasses were in a forest… and any moment his supposedly evil-twin sister was to be walking through a door to bring him to his doom. Harry blinked rapidly and then took a deep breath.

"She wouldn't," he whispered, crossing his fingers.

But then again, he thought, she has been acting really strangely… getting in fights, saying rude things, getting expelled, stealing library books… but that didn't necessarily maker her evil, did it? No… Harry thought… no.

Voldemort turned, his eyes fixated upon a door directly across from Harry. A small smile crept over his face. Voldemort stood there for several seconds, waiting for Adrienne to stride through the door, seemingly upon her own free will. His eyes narrowed as the seconds progressed and she still hadn't come.

"Perfect, come at once!" he bellowed, a strange thought flickering through his mind: Maybe she had broken the spell.

"Master!" A hoarse yell echoed from the room behind the door, which every eye was fixated upon. "It's the Perfect, she won't wake!"

The room was silent, and then, despite himself, Harry burst into laughter. So, Adrienne was there, and just like her, Harry thought, to mess up something as simple as getting stunned. Voldemort's head snapped to look at him, his eyes blazing.

"You will not mock me!" he spat, raising his own wand.

"Master!"

Voldemort, reluctantly, turned to look behind him. A lone Death Eater had walked from the room, Adrienne floating in the air before him, his wand positioned upon her, keeping her up. Her head had fallen forward, her hair in her face.

"What is this?" Voldemort exclaimed, dropping his wand and striding forward, his shoes clicking upon the marble floor.

"The Perfect, I cannot wake her."

"Lucius, explain this," Voldemort growled, staring at the Death Eater. "You were the one to cast the spell, were you not?"

"I stunned her sir, the same as Potter," Lucius said hurriedly, lowering Adrienne to the ground.

"Potter seems to be awake, why would it work on her differently?" Voldemort hissed, kneeling down next to the unconscious girl, whose head was now hanging to the side, her mouth slightly open.

"Perhaps because she is a Perfect?" Lucius suggested, kneeling down next to Voldemort. He reached forward and again inspected the girl as Voldemort slid a hand under her neck.

"She's alive," Voldemort replied, drawing his hand away.

Harry watched the scene in interest. He couldn't make out much. He could see a blurry figure on the ground, people grouped around her. He crawled to the side to get a better look, squinted his eyes, and turned his head different directions… but he couldn't make out anymore.

Voldemort stared at Adrienne and then raised his wand.

"Ennervate," he ordered.

"She never did listen well," Harry called out.

"Get up!" Voldemort ordered, his eyes narrowing.

Everyone waited with bated breath, their eyes fixated upon the three in the middle of the room, but no matter what Voldemort tried, Adrienne continued to lie unconscious upon the floor. Voldemort slowly stood up and turned around to face the group of Death Eaters to Harry's left.

"Where is the healer?" he asked in a slow drawl.

Harry turned to face the direction in which Voldemort was speaking, his ears picking up the soft words of, "We have a healer?"

"W, come forward!" Voldemort called out.

"She's coming, My Lord!" came a deep voice and then the group of Death Eaters broke apart as four people entered the room, dragging a fifth behind them.

"Which of you is W?" Voldemort asked, his face rising in fury at Adrienne's sudden state of unconsciousness.

"The bound and tied one," another drawled.

Harry squinted until he could barely make out, between the fluttering of his eyelashes, the new figure now lying on the floor. Sure enough, the figure was bound.

"What is this!" Voldemort screamed, his face rising in fury.

He pocketed Adrienne's wand and strode forward. With a flick of his wrist and a yell of "Ennervate!" the figure began to stir.

"Why was she tied?" Voldemort hissed, glaring at the four who had drug her in. "And why wasn't she here, her expertise was needed."

His face was livid, his nostrils flaring.

"We found her in – in – the forest," the first Death Eater stuttered. "She was telling someone to run for – for – Dumbl – Dumbledore. We stunned her, but who she was speaking to, whoever that was, he got away.

"She was what?" Voldemort hissed in a deadly voice. His eyes flashed from the Death Eater standing before him, to the one finally sitting up, a hand raised to her head.

"I see," Voldemort said, turning around and striding toward Adrienne. He cast a glance from Harry to Adrienne and then turned back around, his wand raised.

"Wallace!"

Professor Wallace slowly stood up, and then, with a great sigh, ripped the hood from her head and shook her dark hair. She ran a hand up and raked it through her tresses and then frowned at Voldemort.

"So I lied," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. "Never really did mean that pledge I took…"

Voldemort's reply snaked through the room with its soft and threatening tones, "so you thought you, a young girl, a few years out of school, a few years past a marriageable age, could obtain something by posing as one of my trusted? Did you think you could further your cause by getting yourself killed?"

His wand was pointed directly at her, his hand remarkably steady.

"Well, when you put it that way… seems like a dumb move on my part, now doesn't it?" she said.

Harry stared at her, his jaw hanging open. Professor Wallace had been a Death Eater, a spy for that matter.

"You ever play chess?" she asked, taking a daring step closer to Voldemort.

"A long time ago," he replied, keeping his wand always pointed at her heart.

"Then you know, sacrifices must be made, plays must be played, hits must be taken. You can't say 'checkmate' if you don't lose a piece," she replied. "I'm just a piece, a minor play."

"A play that will fail," Voldemort said, smiling again. "I won't lose."

"Are you sure?" Wallace replied, raising a thin eyebrow and crossing her arms before her. "You don't seem to be in a promising position."

Voldemort stared at her and then flipped his head back and laughed – the same cruel laugh Harry had always heard in his dreams.

"I don't seem to be in a promising position?" he exclaimed. He glared at her. "Look," he stepped to the side, flinging a hand behind him to point at Adrienne. "The girl is unconscious, beyond the reaches of my magic, and the boy," he turned to point at Harry, "he won't be escaping this time."

Wallace followed his direction and looked at Harry, who was staring at her, but she had the impression he wasn't quite seeing her.

"You took away Potter's glasses?" she asked in annoyance, "and the point of that would be what? Are you all right, Harry?"

"Oh, definitely," Harry called, back, "reliving my favorite moments from last year, thanks!" he finished, wondering if his flippant attitude was coming off right.

He wanted Voldemort to think he was overconfident… Voldemort would want to prove his superiority then, and that means Harry would stay alive longer, and the longer he stayed alive, the longer he had to escape. Harry twisted his hands behind his back, feeling the blood from where the ropes had cut his wrists spread over his hands. He didn't know why he was staying so calm, or even if he was calm or was really just losing his mind… What am I doing? he thought, I'm just giving Voldemort more reason to hate me. He cast a glance at Adrienne, lying unconscious on the floor. It's just not me this time, I need to save her too, he reminded himself.

"I should kill you now," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing at Professor Wallace.

"Yup, you probably should. Do I get a final request or anything… you know, a cigar, a prayer, an owl to my mother… or better yet, can I chose my means of demise?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and smiling. "I prefer to be eaten to death by piranhas, blue ones, in a large tropical oasis, during a full moon… the water has to be clear, that way I can see my blood spreading through it."

"You're not amusing," Voldemort answered. He cast a hateful glance at her and turned around. "But, Wallace, it isn't quite your time, not just yet."

Professor Wallace flashed a large grin at Harry and wiggled her eyebrows. What is she doing? Harry thought in alarm, she's going to get herself killed. Harry shook his head, remembering her speech; did she really think he had a chance against Voldemort, or at least a good chance? Harry twisted his bound hands, digging his nails into the ropes… they were giving a little.

"I want you to wake the girl," Voldemort said.

Wallace walked forward, her heels clicking on the floor. She put on a mock-thoughtful face and stopped at his side.

"No," she finally replied, not looking at him.

"Does that mean you cannot do it?" he hissed, glaring at her.

"No, I just don't feel like it," Wallace replied, kneeling down and staring more closely at Adrienne.

In a flash Voldemort had reached down and pulled Wallace back up, wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her against his chest.

"I am tired of your antics. You will do as I say, or your death will not be pleasant," he snarled.

Professor Wallace gasped for breath. "Since when is death pleasant?" she breathed, her eyes stinging.

Harry watched, working furiously at his bindings… if she could just distract him a little longer.

"Wake the Perfect," Voldemort snapped, throwing her onto the floor next to Adrienne.

"And if I don't?" Wallace asked slowly, rubbing her neck in pain, her eyes glittering maliciously. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Then you won't be able to wake her unless you find another healer…"

"Wake the child," Voldemort growled, positioning his wand again on her heart.

"Why, she will never help you," Wallace replied, bracing herself as Voldemort's hand began to shake in fury.

"If you have so much faith in her, wake her up… either way she dies. But if she wakes, she may have the chance to escape, just like Potter's done so many times," Voldemort answered.

Wallace stared up at him, reading his face, knowing that Voldemort was completely sure of himself this time, he didn't expect Adrienne or Harry to escape.

Harry slid a few inches to his right to better see what was happening. He still hadn't gotten his bindings off, but if he could get them loose enough, it would only be a matter of time.

Professor Wallace turned to Adrienne and slid a hand under her neck. "You cannot wake her, oh great master from Hell?" Wallace asked, glaring up at him.

"No," Voldemort hissed in a deadly tone. "I was not trained to heal, but you were."

"Hmmm, tough case," Wallace muttered, turning back to her.

She brushed Adrienne's hair from her face and ran a finger along her cheek.

"I'll need my wand, that is, if you really want me to do this," she instructed without looking up.

Voldemort turned and motioned for the Death Eaters who had drug her in to step forward. They walked toward him, the one in the front pulling a wand from his pocket.

"I'll kill you, Wallace, if you try and escape," Voldemort said, dropping the wand onto the floor next to her. He pointed his wand at the back of her head. "Don't try anything."

Wallace reached for her wand, fighting the mad desire to scream out that she was surrounded by thirty Death Eaters and a crazed lunatic pointing a wand at her, what was she going to do, try and curse them all? She thought better of it and placed the tip of her wand on Adrienne's forehead.

"I haven't practiced this in a long time," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "I didn't like being a healer… that's why I quit. Signing my death warrant by joining murderous groups is more my cup of tea."

"Shut up and wake the girl!"

Wallace tapped Adrienne's head and muttered a few words, a light pink mist flowing from her wand. It hovered several inches over Adrienne's head, and then, as Adrienne breathed in, disappeared. Wallace waited a moment and then, a slight pink tinge began to cover Adrienne's skin.

"It isn't her heart or her lungs… she's breathing fine and her heart is getting enough oxygen through the body. Did she hit her head?" Wallace asked, watching as the pink tinge faded.

"She fell when she was stunned," Lucius answered. "I stunned her, I watched her fall, she hit her head, but it wasn't hard."

Wallace stared at the girl.

"Lumos," she whispered. She opened one of Adrienne's eyes and shined the light into it, and then, she did the same to the other. "Nox."

"Are you ready to wake her?" Voldemort asked, his patience wearing thin.

"If you would take better care of your prisoners, maybe she wouldn't be like this," Wallace snapped. She stared at Adrienne for a second. "I think it's a concussion, but a fall from being stunned, atop grass… I don't think that would have done it. She might have had an earlier injury, a pervious blow to the head… a fall maybe, this one may have just aggravated it."

"Wake her," Voldemort ordered.

"It isn't that simple," Wallace snapped, standing up. "This isn't a magical injury, but there is a magical cure. If you've already tried to rise her, then the stunning spell has been removed… I could wake her, but I'm not sure how well she will be."

"I don't care… I need her awake," Voldemort answered, shoving her shoulder.

Wallace fell back down to the ground, mumbling about violent morons.

She placed her wand in the center of her right palm and shut her eyes, closing her hand over it. Harry watched in interest, his eyes squinted again. He had seen Madam Pomfrey do this before, or at least something like this. A small ball of blue light was building in Professor Wallace's hand, soon engulfing it. Harry turned his head slightly to the side, wondering where Professor Wallace had learned to be a healer. She didn't seem like the type, he thought.

A new question pushed its way into his mind… what would happen to Professor Wallace after this. If he guessed right, she wouldn't have much energy. He had seen Madam Pomfrey do it once, his third year when he was in the hospital wing. A sixth year had fallen and knocked his head several weeks before Harry was admitted to the wing. The boy didn't wake up. Harry didn't know much about Muggle medicine, but he did know that the longer someone was unconscious, the less likely they'd wake up. The day Harry was to leave the wing, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore had decided that they should try and rouse the boy, realizing that nature wasn't going to do it.

Harry had asked Hermione about the spell Madam Pomfrey had performed. Hermione had said it was something only healers knew… how to transfer energy from their wand to themselves so they could perform magic on the patient because often a wand couldn't be held with the various procedures. Madam Pomfrey had almost passed out afterward; Harry had the bad feeling that if Professor Wallace passed out, she wouldn't be waking up.

Professor Wallace, her eyes blinking in the bright light, slowly opened her hand and pulled her wand out, depositing it on the ground. She pressed her hands together before her, the blue glow transferring to light up both her hands, the color diminishing as it moved up her arms. She closed her eyes and started chanting something Harry couldn't make out. It was a singsong pattern, and the intensity of the light changed with the pitch of her voice.

Snapping her eyes open, Professor Wallace leaned forward and placed her hands on Adrienne's temples, the thumbs resting on the middle of the girl's forehead. Professor Wallace didn't move, her eyes staring into the closed lids of the girl before her. Then the color faded from her hands, as a deep feeling of blackness began to fill the back of her mind and she transferred some of her own consciousness to Adrienne, she dropped her hands and whispered, "Up, my child."

Wallace placed her hands on either side of Adrienne's head, her hands warm against the cool floor, breathing heavily, her eyes still on the girl below her. "Wake up, Adrienne."

Wallace slowly leaned back and sat upon her knees, her head spinning, her hands shaking. She reached down and pinched Adrienne's arm.

Adrienne flinched and slowly opened her eyes, reaching an arm over to rub the one Wallace had pinched.

"Stop poking me," Adrienne whined. She stared up at Professor Wallace with a bemused expression. "What?"

"Well done, Wallace," came a familiar voice.

Adrienne's eyes widened in recognition, but she couldn't see past the face of her old professor, who was still leaning over her, looking as if she didn't have the strength to get back up.

Harry saw it coming even before the Death Eaters. He knew before Voldemort even opened his mouth, before Voldemort even tightened his grip on his wand.

"Professor, watch out!" Harry screamed, trying to stand up, but overbalancing and falling backward instead.

Adrienne, having no idea what was going on, heard Harry's scream and stared at Professor Wallace with a confused expression. For a split second Professor Wallace, too tired to move, stared at Adrienne, and then smiled slightly.

"Be patient, play the game," she whispered to Adrienne right as the yell of "Avada Kedavra" filled the room.

A flash of green light blocked Adrienne's vision and then she felt Professor Wallace fall atop her. She could smell the shampoo Wallace had used earlier that day; she felt her thick hair fall atop her face, and the weight of her body on her torso. Adrienne froze, her muscles seizing up… she's dead, Adrienne thought.

"You killed her!" Adrienne screamed, raising her arms, which felt like lead, to push Professor Wallace off her. The woman rolled to Adrienne's left and lay there, a frightened grimace upon her face, her hand out to the side. Adrienne slowly sat up and stared at the body, an intense fear rising in her gut.

"You killed her," Adrienne whispered again.

"I didn't kill her," Voldemort answered, "She killed herself."

He reached down and pulled Adrienne into a standing position, keeping a hand clamped atop her shoulder. Adrienne wavered, her head spinning.

"Child, it's time. Wormtail, the Golden Serpent," Voldemort hissed, steering her away from Professor Wallace's body, where her eyes were still fixed.

Harry lay on the floor, his eyes shut, still trying to work on his bindings. His mind was racing. Professor Wallace was dead; Adrienne was finally awake… What had Hermione said about the Golden Serpent? he thought. Suddenly he snapped his eyes open and sat back up.

"Don't do it, Adrienne!" he called to her.

Adrienne wrenched her eyes from Professor Wallace to Harry. She hadn't seen where he was before, only heard him yell. She stared at him, her eyes beginning to tear. I'm not going to help Voldemort, I'm not, she told herself as Voldemort let go of her and took several steps away so that they were facing each other.

Harry watched as if everything was in slow motion. Everything was inching by. It even felt like his progress at his bindings was slowing. Wormtail approached cautiously, his small chubby fingers and his silvery hand carefully carrying the box before him. He was the only one beside Voldemort not wearing a hood, and he had aged substantially from the last time Harry had seen him. Voldemort wrenched it from Wormtail's grasp, and Wormtail retreated back to the Death Eaters, who had now formed a long line.

"My faithful, the time is finally here."

The large room was silent save for Voldemort's high voice, and the occasional whimpers from Adrienne, who still looked very groggy.

"For more than a decade the world has waited with bated breath, hoping against hope that we were gone at last, that I was gone at last, that Harry Potter really did win," Voldemort drawled, holding the box before him.

"But Potter didn't win, did he? We're not gone, are we? I'm back, aren't I?" he whispered, his red eyes flickering dangerously.

"A thousand years ago, the noble Salazar Slytherin knew that we'd be challenged. He knew that the likes of Dumbledore would be bent on proving their righteousness, and he knew that the Dark Arts must win," Voldemort continued, his long fingers caressing the box in his hand. "So, with his infinite knowledge, admirable Slytherin prepared for us a weapon that would prove our might, prove our cause."

Voldemort slowly opened the box and withdrew the Golden Serpent, the flickering torchlight glinting off it.

"This, my faithful, this, is the key to our success," Voldemort hissed, his eyes filled with hunger.

Adrienne swallowed, her mind racing. I could run for it, she thought, but then Harry would be stuck here. I could attack Voldemort, but I don't have a wand. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Yeah, this really bites… we're all going to die.

Harry watched Adrienne, unable to make out her facial expressions. I need my glasses, he thought, as he wrenched his hands through the final strands of the rope. He rubbed his free wrists, blood running over his fingers, but kept them behind his back.

Voldemort turned and Adrienne noticed he had two wands in his free hand.

"Follow me, Perfect," he ordered, his red eyes glittering with excitement.

Adrienne's legs obeyed and she found herself striding forward, again, her mind screaming at her to stop. Voldemort raised a hand, the hand holding the wands, to indicate her to stop walking.

"That's my wand!" Adrienne whispered in amazement as the two wands caught the torchlight. "Why does he have my wand?"

"There's someone I'd like you to meet, Harry," Voldemort said in a quiet voice, his face barely able to hold his joy.

Harry looked up at Voldemort and Adrienne. Adrienne isn't on his side, he thought, look at her face… she's terrified, of what though… him, or me?

"Seems she and I have met before," Harry replied, staring up into Voldemort's red eyes. He held his hands together behind himself, hoping that no one would notice he had ripped through his bindings.

"Have you?" Voldemort asked in an amused tone. "I think you'll be duly surprised then.

"I hate surprises," Harry answered back, staring up into the blurry face before him. "You can keep the surprises for yourself, thanks."

A cruel grin spread across Voldemort's pale face.

"Tsk. Tsk," he said with amusement. "Didn't those Muggles teach you any manners? You always accept a gift, or risk falling out of the giver's good favor."

"I don't think I have to worry about that… it seems your good favor ran out way before my time," Harry replied.

"Perfect," Voldemort instructed, casting his eyes to Adrienne, who was standing next to him.

"I have a name," she murmured, feeling as if all her courage had been drained from her. I'm going to die, Harry's going to do, we're all going to die, she thought.

Voldemort ignored her.

"What do you know about the Golden Serpent?" he asked, slowly opening the box, keeping a good grip on the two wands in his left hand.

Adrienne scowled.

"Nothing," she lied. "Absolutely nothing."

Harry stared at her, wondering if she had a plan or was just playing dumb for the heck of it. Voldemort seemed to believe her though. He nodded and stared into the open box.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered as he withdrew the small pendent. Adrienne looked at it. She had to admit...it was breathtaking. It looked like it was made of solid gold. The serpent's scales and marking were carefully carved, and two small emeralds served as eyes.

"Yeah, if you're into old evil artifacts," she murmured, her eyes on the wand in his hand. "That's my wand," she finally said.

Voldemort looked up from the serpent and stared at Harry for a second before turning to look at Adrienne.

"Of course it is," he replied.

"I'd like it back," Adrienne said, her voice less wobbly this time.

Voldemort laughed. "And you think I'd just give you your wand because you'd like it back?"

"It'd be a nice gesture," Adrienne replied, her own voice sounding as if it were miles away.

Voldemort stared at her for a second, and then shook his head, a large smile crossing his face and his white teeth gleaming in the torchlight.

"Take this instead," he said, turning to face her, extending the Golden Serpent toward her. "It was made for you."

Adrienne's hand involuntarily reached out and her fingers enclosed upon the golden pendent held before her. Her heart clenched, her breath stopping in her throat, and she waited for some horrible event to happen. She had expected some sort of popping noise, or maybe a flash of light or some sparks… Nothing happened though. Not even a fizzle came from the serpent.

Harry stared at the blurry images of Voldemort and Adrienne before him. Why did she just take it from him? Harry thought, horrified. She obeys him; she doesn't usually listen to anyone. He stared at her, trying to figure out what was happening, cursing himself: If Hermione had come, she'd know why Adrienne was acting so strange.

Adrienne stared at her hand, her eyes tracing the gold chain that was protruding from her fingers and snaking downward. I thought something was supposed to happen, she mused to herself. That's what Hermione said, when a Perfect touched it, the spell is activated.

"It's a dud," Adrienne muttered, vaguely aware of a small smile creeping across her face.

When a Perfect touches the Serpent, Hermione said the spell would be activated, Harry thought, why didn't it work?

For a moment the room was silent, as one by one the lined Death Eaters slowly dropped their heads, disappointed expressions crossing their hooded faces. And then, in a rage of fury, Voldemort's scream roared through the room, and Adrienne flew backward with the force of his slap, her cheek stinging from where he had hit her.

"Insolent child!" Voldemort screamed at her, his eyes widening in fury. "What did you do? Answer my question!"

"I held the pendant?" Adrienne mumbled, her words barely recognizable.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry flinch… his right arm escaping involuntarily from behind him.

"Stay there!" Voldemort flung himself around and lunged at Harry. Harry didn't even have time to draw his arms from behind himself before Voldemort yanked him to his feet and threw him backward onto the wall. With a yelp, Harry slid down the wall, his hands scratching the rough surface with his descent.

"So, you untied yourself?" Voldemort asked, stopping right before Harry and glaring down upon him.

Harry didn't reply. He didn't even look up.

"Stand up," Voldemort hissed.

Harry stared at the floor.

"You dare defy me, boy?" Voldemort asked, his voice dangerously low.

Harry didn't move, but unlike the many times before, when he had felt frozen to his spot because of fear, this time he didn't move because he was too busy thinking of what possible attempt at escape he could make. As Voldemort reached down, obviously remembering that the Imperious Curse didn't work on Harry, Harry again noticed the two wands in his hand.

"If you had brought your wand, everything would be a lot easier," Voldemort hissed in his ear as he pulled Harry forward.

For a moment, Harry thought of trying to make a grab for one of the wands, but then he remembered that there was a large group of very mean hooded wizards standing less than thirty feet away, all of them, most likely, itching to have a go at him. What does he mean: If I had brought my wand? Harry mused, what would that have done? His wand and my wand can't duel each other. And then it hit him, a crazy thought, a thought that broke every rule of cures and charms he had ever learned. Harry raised his head and cast a quick glance at Adrienne, who was still standing in the corner, the Golden Serpent held loosely in her hand. She's not moving, Harry realized… he told her not to move. Back at Hogwarts Adrienne wanted to learn more about controlling curses…

"I may have underestimated you before, Potter," Voldemort snapped, pushing Harry onto the ground in the middle of the room, and beginning to prowl around him, "but I learned from that mistake."

Voldemort looked at him quizzically, as if he was battling with some difficult reasoning.

Harry had turned his attention to Professor Wallace's body, which was lying only a few feet away. Something was lying next to her, right next to her pocket. Harry at first couldn't believe his eyes, and considering that he could barely see, didn't trust them at all. But after a few seconds of squinting and blinking, he realized, with complete assurance, that a pair of glasses, his glasses, was lying next to her. They must have fallen from her pocket, he thought, but how did she get them?

"Was I wrong to believe that she," Voldemort cast a dark glance at Adrienne, who was watching, a horrified expression on her face, but still rooted to her spot, "may indeed be one of the great Perfects? I admit, I could have been wrong… Dumbledore could have been wrong."

Harry, very reluctantly, looked up at Voldemort, squinting his blurry eyes, wondering where he was going with this.

"What if it is you?" Voldemort said this with a tinge of skepticism, but all the same, his eyes pierced Harry's in a searching manner. "That Serpent was made for one of you. What if we've all been wrong?"

Harry glanced from Voldemort's right hand, where the two wands were tightly held, back to Adrienne, who was staring intently at him.

"What have you done to her?" Harry asked in a defiant tone, his green eyes flashing at Voldemort. "It's not the Imperious Curse, what is it?"

"What Curse is it?" Voldemort answered, this time, his voice filling with an emotion Harry couldn't name. Was it pride, or sarcasm, or an uncalled for aloofness?

"She's been acting funny since the Holiday," Harry pressed on, the small flame of confidence that had been harbored deep inside his chest billowing through his body: He had a plan, a very faulty plan that relied much on chance and very unlikely happenings, but a plan none-the-less.

"Her original behavior, I cannot claim credit for," Voldemort answered, and Harry realized that he had transferred a wand to both of his hands now. "She did that herself, worrying about what had really happened the night I attacked the Gallows, worrying why it happened, placing the blame on herself. I just played on it, used it to my advantage." Voldemort, his eyes boring straight into Harry's, smiled amusedly.

"She was weak to begin with, unsure, nervous about her clumsiness, easily manipulated," Voldemort continued. "All she had to her credit was some lucky flying skills and a natural dueling ability, and perhaps some outstanding endurance. But she doesn't have much brains. She brought it upon herself, losing her wand in the forest. She didn't even bother to find it."

"So you found her wand? Why do you need it?" Harry asked, although he had an idea why, but he didn't know how plausible it was, or even practical.

"Dumbledore and all his holier-than-thou predecessors have always thought they've known all there is to know about Magic. They've paraded around that all the spells, even the ancient ones, the ones developed just after the fall of the Perfect Art, are in their complete knowledge, that no new spells will be discovered, only developed. They, Harry Potter, were very wrong."

Harry didn't like the sound of this, and he had a feeling that if Hermione were here, she wouldn't like it either. Adrienne had requested a book tracing the roots of the Imperious Curse… what if there was another curse, one that no one knew of, or had forgotten, one that Dumbledore had overlooked. Harry didn't like the sound of that at all.

"What Dumbledore and the rest of the bungling Ministry officials don't know, is that before Slytherin died, he had hidden a spell book, containing many spells he had developed in secret, many spells derived directly from his own Perfect spells."

"How did you end up with it?" Harry asked, wondering why he was entertaining a conversation with Voldemort, it really was a crazy idea.

"Privilege of being his heir… passed down through the generations, Potter… not by word of mouth," Voldemort continued, reading Harry's confused expression. "My father, he knew nothing of the power running on my mother's blood, and even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. I have always known the spellbook's location and exactly how to retrieve it."

Harry was about to ask why no one else had found it if it'd been hidden for a thousand years, but then realized that perhaps he didn't really want to know. Images of horrible deaths of evil wizards trying to fight they're way through challenges of spells and curses to a hidden room with a bunch of musty spellbooks blazed through his mind. He wondered why Voldemort had to be the one to finally retrieve the book.

"You didn't assume that the Imperious Curse was the only controlling curse, did you?" Voldemort asked with amusement. "Of course you did. There were only rumors that another existed, rumors fed through word of mouth, generation to generation, that eventually became legends… fables. Dumbledore, along with several others through the years, seemed to see past the rumors, and have searched for evidence of another spell, but never found one. You need Slytherin's blood, Harry, to open the vaults that held the book."

"What does her wand have to do with it?" Harry asked slowly, biting his lip out of nervousness.

"A wand has a direct link to its owner, that's why a wizard's own wand will work the best for only him. Her wand was part of the spell."

"You made her do all those things. You made her lose her duels and miss the match. You made her attack Parvati and Lavender, and… Draco?" Harry asked, a horrible understanding developing in his mind.

"Not Draco, she did that herself. That temper of hers would serve me well if she'd only join me," Voldemort said, his face souring. Harry swallowed as he realized that Voldemort was no longer in the talking mood. Now or never, Harry thought.

"The curse, or whatever it is, that you have Adrienne under, perhaps she can't activate the spell under it… it might require her free will," Harry breathed, blinking and grimacing slightly at his dizzying headache.

"And free her from the curse, give her back her wand?" Voldemort laughed, and Harry's memory was flooded with the endless nights in his cupboard, that laugh, then unknown and insignificant, his only company.

"You think I'm that foolish, to give her back her wand? Give that girl back her best weapon?" Voldemort laughed again.

Harry gritted his teeth. "She can't do anything against all of you, why not?"

"You want me to turn my back on you, to turn my attention from you to her? And let you try and escape?" Voldemort seemed amused at this.

"Willing to sacrifice her to save yourself?" Voldemort pressed.

Harry didn't reply, vowing to let Voldemort think whatever he wanted.

"Lucius, Wormtail!"

Harry heard the shuffling of feet behind him and the sweeping of cloaks upon the ground and then he felt two rough hands grab his shoulders. Wormtail was standing at Harry's left, his silvery right hand digging into Harry's flesh, making Harry think that he'd lose circulation to his left hand. Lucius was on his right.

"Watch him," Voldemort ordered, and then turned around.

Adrienne watched Voldemort approach, her nerves throughout her body screaming for her to move, run, hide… but he had told her to stay there and no matter how her body protested, she couldn't escape his command. She didn't understand what Harry was doing, especially why he was helping Voldemort. Did he think that if Voldemort gave her back her wand, they'd be in any better position?

"My head hurts," Harry lied, although he was a little dizzy, blinking rapidly and squeezing his facial muscles. "Can I sit down?"

Lucius and Wormtail ignored him. They were staring intently at Voldemort, who had stopped several feet before Adrienne and had raised his wand.

Adrienne, still holding the Golden Serpent, stared at him, still feeling somewhat out of her body.

"Catch," Voldemort ordered, and tossed her wand into the air. Adrienne stared in horror as it flew toward her. Don't catch it, her mind screamed, you're holding the pendant… but her hand flew up to meet it, and right before she caught it, a miraculous idea filled her head, drop the pendant… he had never said she had to hold it the entire time.

As Adrienne's left hand, for the first time in almost six months, enclosed around her wand, the sound of metal clinking against the marble floor filled the room. Harry, rolling his eyes up, threw himself forward, and then collapsed, falling out of Lucius and Wormtail's grasp, which they had lessened in surprise at the breaking of the silence. Harry, pushing his weight to his left, his eyes held closed, flung his arm to the side. He wrapped his fingers around his glasses and laid still.

Adrienne screamed as her left hand finalized its grip on her wand, her neck arcing backward in pain as a rapid flow of movement caroused through her body, beginning at her head and flowing down, centering itself in her chest, right over her heart. She felt as if she were burning, her entire body on fire, her screams echoed through the room, and small smiles of satisfaction spread over the hooded faces. The curse, Adrienne assumed, as the pain in her chest began to dissipate and spread up to her left arm and toward her wand, was easy to place on a person. Removing the curse, and all the control and dark magic that had been harboring inside the victim, was a different story, she thought. The last remnants of pain flew from her fingers into her wand and suddenly Adrienne was silent, her neck in a normal position, her eyes fixated upon the ground, her shoulders slumped.

"Pick up the Golden Serpent," Voldemort ordered, tightening his grip on his wand, and pointing it straight at her heart.

Adrienne slowly looked up, her eyes running down the length of his wand, up his arm, and situating themselves upon his eyes.

"Let me think about that," she said in a soft voice. "No." She raised her left arm into the air and pointed it straight at Voldemort. "I don't feel like it."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Pick up the pendent."

Adrienne, tightening her grip on her wand, wondering if she dared duel the Dark Lord. "I won't."

Adrienne swallowed again, her heart beginning to pound and her arm beginning to shake. Her eyes widened slightly in fear: She had never felt like this before, not even at a match, never felt this vulnerable. She didn't understand it; she did have her wand… her real wand. The wand in which she had won so many matches, claimed an international title…

"You're afraid, Perfect. You don't think you can beat me. You know you can't beat me. Your eyes show it all," Voldemort hissed, glaring at her. "What good is a dueling in a competition if you can't do it in real life? Training for medals isn't the same as training to survive."

Adrienne pursed her lips and with great effort, steadied her arm.

"I won't help you."

"You will, or I'll kill him." Voldemort jumped backward and to the side, turning to point his wand at Harry, who was lying on the ground, Lucius and Wormtail standing behind him, seeing no reason to raise Harry from the ground.

Adrienne rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to fall upon Harry.

"You're going to kill an unconscious boy?" she said with contempt. "And forego the opportunity to prove to the entire wizarding world that the great and mighty, if not extremely ugly, Lord Voldemort is in fact greater than The Boy Who Lived?" Adrienne shrugged her shoulders. "Fine with me, but I was expecting a little more umpf in the victory."

"It is your choice, you can either pick up the pendent and in return duel me for his life," Voldemort reasoned, his eyes fixated upon her but his wand upon Harry, "Or you can refuse and watch him die… how many people would then have died because of you?"

Adrienne glared at Voldemort. "I'm getting tired of this argument… who died because of whom… it all gets rather confusing."

As an instinct, Adrienne turned her attention to Harry. With unbelievable quickness, Adrienne saw one of his eyes open and he raised his left hand slightly. The lens of his glasses reflected the torchlight, and then… realizing that all eyes were on Voldemort and Adrienne, Harry raised his hand to his face and quickly, but effectively pointed to his scar.

They were three simple actions, but their importance was not lost to Adrienne. She looked back at Voldemort, her heart tight in her chest, the feeling of nervousness overtaking her again. His scar, Adrienne realized… his parents, our parents she corrected, died to protect him… my professors, the people at the Gallows; they died, but not for the same reason…

"They didn't die because of me… they died because of you," she said in a soft voice, her eyes narrowed at Voldemort. "They died just like the others you had killed, they died because you felt like killing. They didn't know you were coming for me… and everyone in the Gallows and at Salem would have fought you anyway, whether they knew or not."

Adrienne was keenly aware of Voldemort's wand still pointed at Harry, his red eyes piercing hers, and the faces of the many hooded Death Eaters all fixated on the scene before them. But Adrienne, felt as if she was watching from afar, as if she was in one of her dreams that she had had while attending Salem her previous years. She had begun to shake again… and deep down she knew that she was no match for Voldemort. That whether she could duel in a ring or not, he was right, she was in no condition, and very out of practice to be dueling for her life, let alone the life of another.

"I have nothing to prove to you… Professor Mondel, Professor Sloan, all of them… they're dead, and I can't change that…" Adrienne paused, wondering where she was going with her speech, because she had no idea. She had just started speaking, perhaps as a way to stall, or perhaps because she wasn't really talking to Voldemort, but to herself.

"You want me to pick up that little pendent," Adrienne said nodding to the Golden Serpent at her feet. "I don't want to. And whether you threaten Harry, or me, or anyone else, I won't."

"Brave show of courage – "

"Don't interrupt me – I'm on a role," Adrienne said, almost forgetting she was talking back to the Dark Lord himself. "Where was I?"

"This will be the last time I tell you," Voldemort hissed, "Pick up the pendent."

"Or what, Harry dies?" Adrienne asked, her eyes flitting back to Harry, who was now watching with both his eyes open. Give me your wand, he mouthed to her. Adrienne paused for a moment, thinking, and then pursed her lips, having made up her mind. "I am definitely the wrong person to be negotiating someone else's life… and I don't think Harry would want me negotiating for him. But," Adrienne turned her attention from Harry back to Voldemort, "he saved me, so I owe him… if I pick up the Serpent, we duel?" she asked.

"We duel," Voldemort answered, a small flicker of triumph flying across his face.

Adrienne nodded and slowly bent down, her eyes flying up to meet Harry's, and she winked. Suddenly Adrienne sprang back up, her hair flying back over her head in a straight sheet, and she threw her wand into the air. Harry, at the same time slammed his glasses onto his face, the world coming into perfect focus and his headache lessening slightly. Voldemort watched the wand fly through the air, completely forgetting about just killing Harry then and there and being done with it. But before he could cast a spell to stop it, Harry had leapt into a standing position and deftly caught the wand. He raised it to point at Voldemort, turning his left foot slightly to the side, and tightening his grip. Lucius and Wormtail, along with the other Death Eaters, fumbled for their wands, raising them in a wavering unison.

"No," Voldemort hissed to his Death Eaters, "The wands are different this time. Potter and I will finish what we started. Get the girl, alive."

Those words rocketed through Adrienne and jarred her to her senses.

"Oh holy mother of everything important, I just threw away my wand," she whispered as she lunged to her right, running as fast as she could as curses hit the wall behind her. Slipping and sliding along the marble floor, Adrienne headed for the staircase at the far end of the room, the staircase that led to the balcony above.

Adrienne knew exactly where she was, or had a rough idea at least. It was the new Ministry Judiciary Center, a very uncompleted judiciary center to be exact. Muggle-borns, or wizards who hadn't been raised in a magical setting were both always surprised at the amount of time it took to raise a wizarding building. Everyone assumed that Magic would make it go faster, but it didn't. Building inspectors had to be called in to supervise construction, all the spells cast had to be documented and signed by a Ministry official… so, Magic only saved a few days or sometimes weeks from construction time.

Adrienne grabbed the end of the solid banister and flung herself up the staircase, rejoicing in the fact that the railing on the edge of the staircase was solid and not striated with small wooden or metal rails. Adrienne heard the thunder of footsteps behind her, coming from the lower courtroom, which was located in the basement, and crossed her fingers as she hurtled up the stairs.

"I wish I had my wand," she muttered as she reached the top of the balcony.

It was a fairly small room compared to the lower courtroom, and was not as near to being completed as the other one. Large ladders were propped against the back wall, where Adrienne assumed the Wizards used to better place their charms. There were no torches lit here and the only light was that emitting from the lower room, but in the shadowy darkness Adrienne could make out a large cauldron in the center of the room. Adrienne ran toward it, slid behind it, and waited there, her heart beating out of control, her mind racing… she needed to find a defense, and quick.

Voldemort and Harry stood at the ready, their wands pointed at each other, their gazes set, unfazed by the shower of curses flying around them, or the sound of Adrienne retreating toward the balcony.

"Your sister deserted you," Voldemort drawled, a smug expression on his pale face.

Harry licked his lower lip from nerves. "She doesn't need a wand anyway."

Voldemort smiled, the same evil grin that had been haunting Harry occasionally in his sleep.

"Your sister is as much a Perfect as you are a normal boy," Voldemort laughed. "The only normal about you, Potter, is that you have two hands, two feet, and a head… but that can be changed."

"We bow, or do you no longer believe in observing the niceties," Harry answered.

Voldemort didn't seem ready to drop the topic. "You are so ready to believe that she can fend for herself? You think that just because she has the title of a Perfect, that she's some great witch? She is weak, she is easily manipulative, and she is little better than a squib in everything except dueling… and she's only good at dueling, I suspect, because she's been able to access her Perfect abilities in that case. She won't do much more than that. Fate picked a lousy person to bestow the gift upon… she needs a wand just as much as you do."

Another grin announced Voldemort's satisfaction.

Harry shook his head, his mind remarkably calm… it's only a duel, he thought… I can duel, I can win.

"I didn't say she was any better off because she's a Perfect," Harry replied, "I said she didn't need a wand, read into that whatever you like."

"Enough with your games, did you learn from her, or she from you… you both waste time. We bow, Harry Potter, and soon you're entire family will be reunited."

Locking eyes, the two wizards slowly bowed, Voldemort barely moving, Harry following the same suit. For a moment the two stared at each other, Harry remembering the last time he had faced Voldemort. He had survived because of their wand's relationship, but this time he was dueling with Adrienne's wand. This wand was foreign to him, and there would be no surprise spells to save him this time… it was all up to him.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed, not ready to kill Harry… he had to pay, he had to know that his survival was just luck.

Harry, expecting this, although he didn't know why, dove to the side, shooting the Impediment Curse at Voldemort, who blocked it easily.

"Stupefy!" Harry screamed, realizing that surviving this duel might be much harder than he ever dreamed.

The two circled each other, Voldemort cutting closer to Harry than he would have ever been allowed to if it were a competition. Voldemort had been right, competition dueling and real dueling were far different.

Voldemort, having sent the Cruciatus Curse again at Harry, lunged toward him, using the time Harry took to block the curse to close the distance between the two. Harry lunged forward, ducking under Voldemort and shooting the Body-bind Curse at him, but Voldemort was too quick and deflected it. A squeal from behind Harry announced that the deflected curse had hit one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and the thump of his body falling upon the floor confirmed it.

The muttering of multiple "Lumos" filled the room with light and Adrienne wondered if the Death Eaters would first check under the ladders, which were covered with sheets. She was just about to stick her head out to see where they were when she noticed the large jugs at her feet: Potions ingredients. A sudden movement on her right drew her attention and as she jumped up, her hand brushed upon something long and wooden on the edge of the cauldron. Adrienne grabbed it and threw it before her.

"Don't move, I have a…" and then she realized she was holding the edge of a wooden ladle. "I have… a…" her mouth dropped in protest at her being surrounded by Death Eaters and being unarmed, "I have a wooden ladle… and if you don't leave me alone, I'll… I'll…"

"You'll what, stir us?" someone suggested sardonically.

Adrienne bit her lip and then raised her hands into the air.

"I relinquish my ladle," she said in a dejected tone, cursing herself for getting startled and jumping up into their waiting arms.

"Are you sure you and Potter are related?" asked a Death Eater, walking forward, and removing his hood, tossing it to the ground. Adrienne stared at him for a second, and then sneered.

"Oh, you're Draco's father, are you?" Adrienne replied, "I could tell by your sunny expression."

"Shut up," Lucius snapped, flicking his wand to the side to indicate her stepping from behind the cauldron.

"What do you want us to do to her?"

"Can we torture her… I haven't used the Cruciatus Curse in a good many years."

"I know… let's beat her over the head and throw her into a lake."

"No, let's put her under the Imperious Curse and make her hang herself."

"I'm all for a quick and clean killing curse – " Wormtail interjected.

"He wants her alive," Lucius snapped.

"And I'm all for a 'let's let bygones be bygones, a quick exchange of hugs and addresses, and a cheerful "good-bye and enjoy the night," for all parties concerned," Adrienne suggested hopefully.

"No," Lucius replied, "I don't think that one will work."

"We could always try," Adrienne replied, taking a step back from him and backing into a very large Death Eater. She jumped forward, turning to look at him and exclaiming, "Oh! Pardon me!"

Adrienne turned back to Lucius, who was moving closer to her, and the other Death Eaters who were grouped around the room, their stances showing their disappointment at not being able to take part in torturing Adrienne. Adrienne swallowed.

"So, I take it you heard about me and Draco," she said timidly, seriously regretting throwing her wand to Harry.

"The Malfoy name, Perfect, is one you show respect to. It would do you good to learn that," Lucius hissed.

"Well, I learned it, lesson over, let's all pack up and go home," she said hastily, her face losing color.

"That isn't how it works," Lucius replied. "I heard you're some hot-shot dueler… or you were. But you couldn't face the Dark Lord?" Lucius said this with amusement, his gray eyes flickering evilly.

"Yeah, he kind of scares me… you know, just a little," Adrienne answered, scanning the room for some sort of escape. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Death Eater she had run into before, standing slightly to her right now.

"You have plenty to be afraid of, little girl," Lucius said, fixating his wand on her.

Had Harry been a little less concerned about trying to block the various curses hurtling toward him through the darkened room, he might have wondered how Adrienne was getting along. He might have even chanced a glance over his shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of her at the balcony.

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort hissed, trying for the umpteenth time to disarm Harry.

Harry, with a massive lunge to the right, dodged the spell and its successor, the Impediment Curse, barely being able to position his wand to block the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry's legs felt like lead, as did his wand arm. Beads of sweat were running down his face, causing his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose, increasing his rising paranoia that he couldn't hold a defense against Voldemort much longer. Professors Lycé and McGonagall had constantly lectured them that it was always best to be on the offensive, for acting in defense never left room to initiate an attack, which he was quickly learning.

"Anoptico!" Harry rushed, finding time right after another block against the Stunning Spell to begin his first offense in the last few minutes of the duel.

Voldemort, his long black cloak swishing behind him, stepped out of the curses' way, but this time, to Harry's great approval, seemed a little slow. He's tiring, Harry thought with a subdued relief.

Between the short breaks of yelling spells and curses, and the shuffle of feet as he and Voldemort circled each other, Harry thought he heard the shatter of glass or something breakable echoing through the room. Voldemort, Harry noticed, heard it as well, because his red eyes on several occasions, though not long enough to give Harry an advantage, slipped to glance at the balcony.

"How long do you think she'll last before she gives in, before she begs for her life," Voldemort hissed, his breath heavy, as he blocked several of Harry's curses.

"She won't help you," Harry answered, lunging out of the way of yet another curse.

"She has no choice. If she doesn't, I'll kill you."

"Stupefy! You'll kill me anyway," Harry answered, furrowing his brow.

Not one had made any headway in cursing the other, not one curse had even reached its destination, and Harry made a mental note to, if he survived, thank McGonagall for always making him practice extra on blocking techniques.

"I'm surprised they haven't brought her down yet. Crucio! She can't be that hard to capture."

"Furniculous!" Harry screamed, and then realized that wasn't even a curse that would benefit him at all in the duel. Voldemort, on the other hand, didn't notice and just brushed it aside.

"No matter, there's no exit up there, she can't escape," Voldemort said with satisfaction. "Expelliarmus."

Lunging out of the way, Harry positioned his wand to try a new approach… the hovering charm, perhaps if Voldemort suddenly was rocketed into the air, it would give Harry a chance to escape. But, as Harry opened his mouth to yell 'Wingardium Leviosa,' his fingers holding Adrienne's wand in a death grip, a brilliant flash of light and a large BANG filled the air, followed by the thumping and bumping of someone tumbling down the stairs.

Voldemort and Harry, for a second, both stared at the person crumpled at the foot of the stairs. Then, without thinking, pulling himself out of the shock of the explosion, Harry turned back to Voldemort and yelled the first thing that came to mind: "Oblivate!"

Harry watched as a burst of light flew from Adrienne's wand, and he watched as Voldemort, in vain, tried to block it, but he wasn't quick enough. The spell hit him square between the eyes, and he stumbled backward. Harry dropped his wand arm and raced toward the staircase. He was suddenly very aware that the balcony, semi-clouded in a mist of smoke, was standing atop large, cracked pillars. He was also quite aware of the fact that there were large orange flames soaring toward the ceiling, coupled with the mingled shouts of the Death Eater's attempts to put them out.

"Adrienne?" Harry called as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he had successfully hit Voldemort; he had, but by the look on Voldemort's face, Harry was quite sure that the memory charm didn't have quite the same effect on him as it did on Lockhart.

"That wasn't standard dueling procedure," chided the figure at the foot of the staircase, who had pulled herself off the ground and was trying very hard to maintain her balance.

"Adrienne!" Harry ran forward and grabbed her shoulders to keep her standing. Her face was covered in soot, and there was a large gash above her right eye, but other than that, she looked perfectly fine. "What did you do?"

"Never mind that, we have to go," Adrienne muttered, shaking her head, and trying to walk forward, but quickly abandoned that idea as she misplaced her foot step and stumbled. Harry caught her.

"There they are!"

Both Harry and Adrienne jumped at the scream, and barely stepped out of the way of a badly aimed Stunning Spell.

"Run!" Harry screamed, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward.

The room had filled quickly with a dense smoke. It seemed that none of the Death Eaters had had any success with trying to douse the flames and had instead turned their attentions to chasing Harry and Adrienne. Others went to investigate why Voldemort, a gleam of understanding slowly returning to his eyes, was watching the scene with mild trepidation.

"Where are we going?" Harry hissed as he and Adrienne pushed their way through a large stone door, barely visible in all the smoke.

"We're in the Ministry Judiciary Center… I just blew up a Ministry building," Adrienne said, stopping suddenly in her tracks in the middle of a long hallway, which still had yet to be carpeted. "I'm going to be in SO much trouble!"

Harry, who hadn't stopped running, doubled back, slipping on the flooring, and grabbing onto a nearby ladder to keep from falling.

"Never mind that, keep moving!" Harry urged, again grabbing Adrienne's hand and pulling her through the hallway. "Do you know which way is out?"

"We're in the basement, we have to go up," Adrienne replied, her head swinging back and forth, helping to search for a stairwell.

Harry and Adrienne pushed their way through a glass door and found themselves in yet another hallway.

"Hold on, do you have my wand?" she asked as they made their way toward a large staircase directly ahead of them.

"Yeah," Harry panted, raising his left hand to show it to Adrienne.

"Good," Adrienne replied.

They continued running, Adrienne a little lopsidedly, making Harry wonder how much being stunned had affected her. She had suffered more head injuries than anyone he knew… perhaps that's why she's so bad at magic, he thought.

"Stupefy!"

Harry yanked Adrienne into the curled staircase and they watched as the jet of white light chipped stones from the stairwell's wall, much to close for comfort.

"They're going to catch us!" Adrienne hissed, "do something!"

"Just keep running!" Harry ordered, pushing her up the staircase ahead of him, the echo of footsteps behind them getting closer.

"There's too many!" Adrienne exclaimed as they neared the large opening into the lobby. "We're going to die!" she muttered dejectedly.

Rolling his eyes, his heart thudding in his chest, the sound of footsteps behind them, Harry thrust Adrienne's wand into her hand and threw her arm into the air.

"Transfigure the ceiling, turn it into something big… like a stone statue," he ordered, pulling her to the side of the stairwell as another curse flew past them.

"Right, I can't transfigure anything, remember!" Adrienne cried in exasperation.

"DO IT!" Harry screamed at her as they ran into the lobby.

"Fine!" Adrienne threw her arm over her head and before they had taken two steps, a massive rumble emitted, and they spun around. The ceiling of the stairwell had caved in.

"It'll take them a few minutes to move that," Harry said, running a relieved hand through his hair. Adrienne turned to look at him, her face pale. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry interrupted her.

"Come on, let's get back to Salem before anyone else follows us," Harry said, grabbing her hand again and pulling her toward the center of the lobby.

Large glass doors were centered ahead of them, opening up into the dark night. Heavy sheets of rain were pelting against the windows, and small puddles of water were seeping through under the doors.

Adrienne followed behind Harry, keeping his hand in a death grip, involuntarily checking behind herself every few seconds. It was quite a ways to Salem, she thought, especially in the pouring rain. She was too busy with her thoughts, and Harry too busy focusing on reaching the large glass doors, to notice the buckling of the floor beneath them, but they did notice the heat radiating from it.

Before Harry could say anything, with a loud sickening crack, the floor gave way beneath him. Harry leapt forward and Adrienne screamed, yanking his arm, pulling him backward onto the ground.

"Hold on, Adrienne!" he shouted as he rolled onto his stomach and tightened his grip on Adrienne's hand, which was the only part of her body still above the floor. The rest of her was dangling through a large hole in the floor, and a large mountain of black smoke was billowing through it, pushing its way to the glass dome at the ceiling.

"Pull me up!" Adrienne ordered as she reached up and grabbed the top of Harry's hand with her other hand, jamming her wand into his flesh. The edges of the hole were beginning to fall too, the part Harry was on, growing extremely hot.

Adrienne, her eyes tearing from the heat of the fire below, glanced over her shoulder wondering if anyone was still down they're, not on the balcony, but in the lower courtroom. There was. Barely, through the dense smoke, she thought she could see two red dots glowing at her.

"PULL ME UP!" she screamed again as Harry heaved backward and moved her a couple inches nearer the surface of the hole.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Through the mountains of black smoke, shot a stream of sharp, green light, which flew straight up. Harry started and dropped Adrienne back a few inches as the green light hit the center of the dome and the glass cracked. This sent several large pieces falling down to the lobby, one landing at the edge of the hole and taking a large piece of flooring down to the courtroom below.

"He's going to kill us!" Adrienne hissed, as Harry tried again to pull her up, this time more successful as her head and shoulders surfaced from the hole. Another yell of 'Avada Kedavra' rang and another blindly aimed curse hit another piece of the dome, sending more glass showering down.

With one last effort, Harry heaved Adrienne onto the floor and pulled her forward, just as Voldemort had again tried the killing curse, this time with much more accuracy, as the green light shot through the space Adrienne had just been occupying. The glass dome cracked even more with the impact.

Adrienne and Harry both lay on the ground for a second, fully aware of the shards of glass falling around them, and the yells of Avada Kedavra echoing below them.

"Come on, Adrienne," Harry urged, jumping up and shaking small pieces of glass from his hair, "That entire dome's going to fall… and we're under it."

Adrienne nodded and pulled herself up, her face pale, looking somewhat disoriented; her eyes watering, a hand clutching her chest as she breathed.

"I held my breath," Harry answered before Adrienne could ask why the smoke hadn't made him ill too.

"Smart," Adrienne muttered, and then, wand in hand, followed Harry toward the double doors.

The rain was coming down in torrents, and a cold wind was ravaging the air, pulling at the shutters of various buildings, pushing trees toward the ground, and making Harry and Adrienne run slightly lopsided. They hadn't run more than fifty feet though, when the shouts of Death Eaters behind them told them that their blockade of the stairwell hadn't lasted.

Harry and Adrienne veered to the right, out of the open road. Adrienne was leading now, and had handed her wand back to Harry, so he could use it if need be.

"How far away is Salem?" Harry panted. "Impedimentia!" He yelled as he pointed his wand over his shoulder to try to stop the Death Eaters who had just barely missed stunning them.

"From here? Ten minutes if we're lucky," she said, bending down as she ran to pick up what looked like a large rock, which, as she straightened, threw at a large window of shop before them. A loud piercing scream from the magical alarm filled the air.

"Now the good guys know where we are," she said, and then motioning to Harry, who was trying to curse three Death Eaters behind him, pushed her way through the remaining glass window and entered the shop.

The shop was small and filled with shadows. Along a wall were cases of things Harry couldn't make out in the dark, but as he neared them, walking sideways so his back wasn't to the broken window, he realized what they were: Broomsticks.

Adrienne reached up to the case in the far back and pulled out a broomstick and tossed it to him. Harry looked at it and then shook his head.

"I'm not stealing a broomstick," Harry answered, his green eyes flashing. "I'm not stealing a broomstick."

The clink of glass behind them indicated that the Death Eaters had too entered the store.

"That's what they want you to do," she whispered as she and Harry snuck behind a long rack of discount brooms. "Mr. Goody-Two Shoes Potter would never steal a broom…" Adrienne flashed Harry a big smile, which he could barely see in the dark. "But me… who knows what I would do."

They reached the end of the rack and Harry slowly stuck his head around to look into the greater part of the shop. The Death Eaters were almost to the rack, following along the broom cases on the wall, their wands raised. Outside the building, Harry could make out several figures milling about.

"Fine, but we're returning the brooms later. You ready then?" Harry asked, mounting his broom.

"You think we can out fly the curses?" Adrienne asked, mounting hers too.

"Well, I'd rather try than sit here and see if we can out run them," Harry replied.

Then, with a quick look around, rocketed forward, bent low over his broomstick.

"They're escaping!"

Harry and Adrienne flew out of the window, Harry pulling up hard and beginning a quick ascent, Adrienne, with a slight delay, following behind. Harry barreled to the right and then dived down behind the shops, flying through an alleyway, Adrienne right behind him.

"Where do I go?" Harry asked, the rain pelting against his face.

"To the Quidditch stadium lights… Professor Bell always keeps them on," Adrienne replied, trying to pull her hair from her eyes.

"There are no lights!" Harry yelled back. "The rain's too thick, I can barely see!"

"Then fly straight! And don't run into a tree!" Adrienne answered.

As they neared the forest, Harry thought he could hear more shouting, which either meant one thing, more Death Eaters, or the Aurors had arrived. He dearly hoped it was the second option.

"You know what?" Harry yelled against the wind.

Adrienne was now flying next to him; both still at breakneck speed, shaking with nerves, and often turning back to make sure no one was following them.

"What?" Adrienne yelled back.

"We left the Golden Serpent back there."

Adrienne didn't respond. Instead, she began an ascent, Harry following. The rain hadn't let up in the least. The wind pulled at their soaked robes, sending chills through both the flyers. But through the rain, a slight glow was emitting, and Harry smiled as he realized they were nearing the Quidditch pitch. And suddenly, the outline of a large castle, all its windows blazing, stood against the black sky.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to look at Adrienne, who was now staring at him, not even paying attention to her flying. "What?"

Adrienne stared at him for a second. "Professor Wallace…"

"With the fire there can't be… anything… left," Harry replied dully, "Did you know that she - "

"No. Do you think Dumbledore did?"

Harry thought for a moment, remembering back to his discussion with Professor Wallace. "Yes, I think he did."

"She's dead," Adrienne said matter-of-factly as they neared the castle.

They could now make out the entrance steps and the faces in the windows, which, upon seeing the two on broomsticks, suddenly disappeared.

"That's what the killing curse does," Harry replied, shivering.

They tumbled off their broomsticks and trudged up the steps, shaking in the cold. They paused at the top of the staircase, their hair flying in the wind, drenched in rain, dragging their broomsticks behind them. Without speaking, they clasped hands and pushed the doors open.