*this has a really funny background story I thought you might like to know. I was in church when I had the idea for this part. Actually, it was this chapter that inspired the story as a whole, but anyway. As I let it play through my mind, watching every detail to make sure it fit, I was in awe of my own abilities. I was pretty gosh darn proud that I'd come up with it, and in the middle of church I exclaimed, "Wow, I have to write that down!" Everyone looked at me like I was nuts. True story! But I've finally written it down, and now it's yours to enjoy.
I know it moves a little quickly, and it's a bit longer than the other chapters, but any more detail and I figured you'd be napping by the third paragraph. But it's full of action, and I thought if it moved fast it would be easier to feel the action as it happens. Thank you all for your support (especially you, Elham Weasley!!!) , and let me know what you think*
Abby shivered as the dark form of Elijah – or was it Raphael? – advanced on her. Her head still throbbed from the events that had taken place not moments before. She remembered very little of it, actually. She remembered Raphael (for that seemed to be his name now) coming over to her after dinner that evening, telling her about something he'd seen by the Dark Forest. She remembered going with him toward the Forest, though her better judgment had warned her against it. She remembered being led toward an odd shadow, and watching the shadow raise a wand and thrust it at her, and she remembered shrieking at the top of her lungs. Much more than that was only a blur in her memory.
She did know, however, of everything that had happened since she'd regained consciousness. It had come when she'd landed here, on this slippery, rock-hard surface. She'd landed hard on the packed dirt with a resounding thud, and heard everything Voldemort had said. She'd also recognized her parents' voices. When her mother came to her side to bring her home, she'd seen the look of anguish on her face as Voldemort Apparated her away from Abby. It was a look that would forever be etched in her mind.
She'd always known her parents lived for fighting as Phoenixes, but she'd never seen them fight. Abby had never seen the pain and the suffering they endured, nor had she seen the looks of intense resolve that came over them when they face Dark wizards. She turned her head and could see that very look in her father's eyes at that moment. He stood strong, firm in his beliefs. He was going to defend the world against Dark magic or die trying. A sudden feeling of awe came over her. Suddenly he was no longer "Dad, who won't allow magic in the house unless it's absolutely necessary". Nor was he "Harry potter, the Boy Who Lived". At that moment, as quite possibly the two greatest wizards of the era stood facing each other, the one who fought the Dark Lord was again little more than "just Harry". Abby knew now what she had to do. She had to follow in her father's footsteps, even if it meant fighting with someone she once counted a friend. Even if it meant struggling when she felt too weak to move. Even if meant death.
Swallowing hard with sudden determination, she thrust her hand down into her robes and pulled out her wand. As she was only a first-year student at Hogwarts, she didn't know a great many spells, but she wasn't about to die lying here like a coward. Raphael stood over her, his wand pointed at her and keeping her from moving. It was as though he held a sword to her throat, and any sudden movements would result in a horrific death. She struggled not to let the fear that seized her heart show in her eyes, and narrowed them to tiny slits.
"Don't move," snarled Raphael. "The Dark Lord doesn't want you dead. Not yet, anyway. You see, he has a marvelous plan for us all. First he's going to rid the world of the meddlesome wizards who are vainly trying to protect the wizard world. Then he's going to eliminate all traces of Muggles so that only Dark magic prevails. Once he's acquired his rightful kingdom, all Death Eaters will become members of his Dark imperial court. So you see, you really only have two choices. Join us…or die. Before you make your decision, you're to watch the defeat of the most powerful Phoenix in existence. Then you'll see that Lord Voldemort's powers can be rivaled by no one. His powers were once broken, but he'll soon regain them and exact his revenge. And you are left to do nothing but watch."
Tears sprang to Abby's eyes at this proclamation, but she fought to hold them back. What good would it do anyone to burst into hysterics at this moment? She tried to get to her feet, but before she could Raphael shouted out, "Crucio!" A dazzling light burst from the end of his wand, hitting her right in the center of her chest. She was instantly thrown back to the ground, the back of her head hitting first. The pain was too terrible for words. The only thing she could liken it to was a thousand poisoned knives digging into her at every angle. Once their sharp ends had made contact, the poison leaked from them into her skin, setting every vein in her body aflame. She cried out and heard nothing in reply save Raphael's cold, cruel laugh. This was the young man who would fall in love with her in later years? She could scarcely grasp it.
"I'll do nothing of the sort!" she spoke through clenched teeth. She didn't trust herself to open her mouth, knowing that if she did she could surely scream. The last thing such a cold-hearted individual needed to know was that his torture was succeeding. Raphael kicked her aching body. A groan passed uninvited through her lips.
Meanwhile, Harry had all his attention focused on Voldemort. He knew that no Death Eater in this time had the strength nor the power to effectively execute the Killing Curse. Abby was not going to die, but she was most certainly not safe here. He gritted his teeth and held firm his fiery passion for what was right.
"You let her go…you let her go now!" he roared. "She deserves none of this. If I'm the one you want, take me. Or are you too much of a coward to fight by your own hand?" He spat out the word "coward" as though it tasted something awful. Voldemort was not at all pleased with being called such and Harry knew it. But rather than fight back with mere words, Voldemort simply lifted his wand, directed it squarely at the scar on Harry's forehead, and hissed the Killing Curse beneath his breath. Harry took a deep breath and said the first spell that entered his mind: "Expecto Patronum!"
*is that right? I don't have my book to check*
He knew, of course, that it would have no effect, but that made no difference. It didn't matter what curse either of them uttered. As they'd both discovered in Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, when two wands of the same core were forced to do battle, the result would always be the same. And sure enough, both wizards, equally powerful in their opposing passions, soon found themselves encased by the golden phoenix cage. Nothing could penetrate this cage, but it was just as well. If either Raphael or Abby wanted to come to their aid, they couldn't. The two were busy in their own struggle. Harry tugged his wand sharply away. If he'd held on, there might have been a chance he'd have defeated Voldemort forever. But the chances that the spell would rebound on him were far too high to take. He was going to duel with Voldemort at last, a proper wizard's duel that would finally be a fair one.
Abby, though, had never seen this effect before, and it intrigued her. She tried to cry out to her father, but Raphael wasn't having it. He cursed her again. This time she couldn't stop herself from screaming. It was like being battered and beaten to the point of death, and then being tossed back to the ground and feeling all the bruises afresh. She was crying now, but not because she was afraid. Her pain was coming out in the form of tears that streaked her dirt-ridden face.
Harry heard his daughter scream and instinctively turned toward her. "Abby!" he exclaimed, his hands now shaking with indignant rage. He pointed his wand through the cage and spoke the Cruciatus Curse. The tip of his wand lit up a deep, blood red, and a stream of red light went crashing to the inner edge of the cage. It then bounced off it several times over, narrowly avoiding both wizards as it was absorbed into the ground beneath them. Voldemort laughed.
"It seems, Potter, that this duel is not going to be so much a trial of knowledge as a trial of wits. And because you've broken contact too soon for the Priori Incantatem *is that right?* spell to take effect, this cage is going to remain intact until the rebounding spells finally wear it away. But no matter. I'll need but one spell to finish you off, one that not even you could pull off." And with that, he aimed his wand at his opponent and said almost lazily, "Avada Kedavra." They were the words every wizard feared to hear. Harry, knowing there was little chance this would work, fell to his knees and sprawled himself flat against the ground. He was startled by his own actions. Ordinarily he would have countered the curse, though it would have almost definitely killed him. Falling flat to the ground seemed more something the younger Harry would have done. But it worked; he watched the death that had been meant for him bounce around the upper walls of the cage before landing somewhere on Voldemort's upper torso. The Dark Lord shrieked at this, because although he'd taken too many precautions against it to die properly, the pain still rippled every corner of his innards. Harry leapt to his feet to continue with the battle.
Voldemort had been right. The only chance Harry had of survival was to dance around the spells shot at him and attempt to use his own against his bitter rival. After an hour or so of this intense dueling, Harry doubted he could go on very much longer. Every muscle in his body ached, and every part of his body had grown numb from such tireless movement. At the same time, Voldemort seemed nowhere near any point of relent. Harry felt as though he'd been cursed a dozen times over, even though not a single spell had made contact with him. He'd been lucky so far. He wondered how much luckier he could be.
While Harry fought for the safety of the wizard world, Abby struggled to remain alive. Raphael had struck her with the Cruciatus Curse so many times she could barely move. Her body was so crippled with pain that she couldn't manage to open her eyes to look on her attacker. She was drenched with a fevered sweat, and she now lay huddled on the ground, involuntarily hugging her knees up to her chest. The entire length of her body was trembling in a pool consisting of a mix of her own blood and sweat and the rain-soaked ground. Her robes were tattered where she'd been struck. The skin that showed through these tatters was streaked with dirt and mud.
Abby had never known pain like this. It evaded all words, and she found herself whimpering broken-spiritedly. She could no longer even beg Raphael to stop. Three times she had slipped into unconsciousness in the past hour. She feared the lethal blackness that once again returned to the edges of her sight. If she passed out again, she was afraid she'd never consciousness. She'd always known Phoenixes were prepared to fight to their death, but it had never before been this real. Suddenly she didn't want to die, not if it was as agonizing as this. Is this what her father faced every day when he went to work? How had he been able to do this all these years? Sleep began to make its fatal descent upon her and she closed her eyes, welcoming the reprieve in the pain.
Harry held up his wand with the intention of striking at Voldemort once more when he heard the whimper. Abby's near-lifeless body was curled up at the feet of the Death Eater, who was in the process of again cursing her with more pain than she could ever imagine. A thought dawned suddenly on him. Raphael can't kill her with the Killing Curse, but can he use the Cruciatus Curse on her until she dies? He couldn't stand it anymore. This was the debate that had been argued in his house since the attack on Abby when she was an infant:
The Order of the Phoenix and all that is good in the wizard world, or his family?
As he saw the angry green light swallow up his daughter in agony, he knew instantly what his choice would be. He wasn't sure if the cage was weak enough to break through yet, but he wasn't thinking either. All he knew was that he had to stop Raphael before he took away the most precious gift in Harry's life.
"You fiend," he growled at Voldemort. Then, without another thought, he lunged all his weight at the wall of the cage. It remained sturdy and intact, and Harry was thrown back into the dueling circle he and Voldemort had created. As he lay defeated on the ground, he heard Abby's sharp scream pierce the night. Her body was limp on the ground. Raphael had killed her.
A single tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, the first tear he'd shed in many a year. Lord Voldemort had finally won.
*Over? Not quite*