- Chapter Twenty-Three -
The First-Born
The blinding glare of the stag, rabbit, horse and bear flooded the corridor, forcing the dementor to stop. There was nowhere to run between them, so he was forced to retreat outside the window. As he flew away, however, Harry could clearly see his companions hovering around the building - he was accompanied by a large number of dementors, all of whom were hungrily clamouring, and the air was rapidly cooling.
'Get back! Let's go back!' hissed Harry, as they all started running back the way they came.
'The Faceless...' Neville panted while running. 'They're waiting for us...'
'I'd rather face the Faceless than this!' Ginny said, taking the boy by the hand and pulling him along so that he wouldn't fall behind, even though Neville's face was red from running and he could hardly breathe.
He wasn't the only one who looked bad - Malfoy was paler than ever, and looked as if he was in a constant state of nausea.
A window had opened at the other end of the corridor, and the Viking had now appeared, and was already on the attack: a gust of freezing wind swept across the walls, and Harry's mind was already filled with hateful whispers. "There's nowhere to hide from him... I'd better get it over with soon and then there'll be no more pain... Ron and Hermione are already dead..."
Everyone sensed the approach of the dementor, Malfoy even slowed down, then stopped in the middle of the corridor and leaned against the wall, head bowed.
'There is no point...' he muttered hopelessly. 'Why are you running...? We're doomed anyway...' Ginny stepped in front of him and slapped him across the face.
'Have you cleared your mind?' She didn't even wait for an answer, now she grabbed Malfoy's hand and started to pull him along.
They rounded the corner into the other corridor, the walls of which were still steaming and their shoes were still clicking in the water. The Faceless were nowhere to be seen, they hadn't come back up the stairs after the flood had washed them out, the way to the stairwell was clear.
"It's no use running away, it won't get better... The worst has already happened, my friends are dead... The others will die too, and I'm the only one to blame..."
Harry felt the water on the floor freeze under his feet, and before long they were slipping along, Neville even falling on his stomach, and then pulling Astoria with him, who tried to help him.
In the middle of the corridor, a barred door stood wide open, separating the two wings of the prison at the halfway point. Harry waved his wand as they passed through, and the bars snapped shut right in front of the dementor's nose.
'By the Nibelungen!' screamed Astoria, who was as surprised as Harry at how close the monster was to them.
'What's got him so wild?' Neville wondered.
The whispering in their minds distorted their perception, a few more metres and the dementor would have caught them. Ginny gasped in exhaustion.
'It worked...' she panted.
Then, suddenly, the dementor opened his mouth, and thick, black, billowing smoke erupted from his throat, enveloping the entire corridor.
'Watch out!' shouted Harry.
Six spiralling fire snakes burst from the cloud of smoke, targeting each of them one by one. Harry hadn't expected him to use the Blight against them, but he acted just in time:
'PROTEGO!'
The fire spirals bounced off the shield, and the Viking rewound the black smoke.
'Merlin, what was that?!' Neville moaned.
Enough of this, Harry thought, and then defiantly, protesting tooth and nail against his previous thoughts, he imagined finding his two lost friends safe and sound, and happily embracing each other.
'Expecto Patronum!'
The light stag swooped through the bars and pushed the stretching, snarling dementor off. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the monster finally moved on and they could catch their breath. Malfoy curled up and threw up against the wall, Astoria leaping out of his way in disgust.
'Ahhh!' she screamed, and it was obvious that her nerves might give out at any moment. 'We'll never get out of here! We'll all die here...'
Ginny went up to her, and for a moment Harry feared that she would slap her like she had slapped Malfoy, but she chose a more subtle means of reassurance. She put her arm around Astoria's shoulders and stroked her back as she shook with tears.
The staircase was just beside them, and from below came the incessant noise of pounding and banging. Neither of them had heard it before because of the presence of the dementor, but now they could clearly make out the shouting and the bellowing incantations.
'Hagrid and the others must have followed us,' Luna said, elegantly brushing her tangled, floppy hair out of her face. 'They stayed downstairs to guard the entrance when I followed you with the cat...'
'Sounds like they've been attacked,' Malfoy growled. Astoria sobbed in Ginny's arms.
'Let's not go there! Please... don't...'
'Stop whining all the time!' Malfoy snapped at her, to which Ginny snorted indignantly. But she couldn't refute his words, for he vomited all over the wall again. Astoria freed herself from Ginny's embrace.
'You were whining a moment ago!' she said to Malfoy, wiping the tears from her eyes with an angry gesture. 'I'm no coward... But I don't have a wand. Only you protect me...'
'Don't be afraid, we'll take care of you,' Luna smiled at her, who hadn't lost any of her cheerfulness despite the dementor's appearance.
The other blonde girl, however, shook her head and avoided all their gazes.
'It's not that...' she muttered quietly. 'When people are in trouble, they save themselves first... If you have to choose between me and your friends, you won't save me...'
None of them said anything, they all remained silent, except Malfoy, who spat disdainfully.
'I don't care what you do to her, just shut her up!' he sputtered rudely.
'Malfoy!' Ginny's eyes flashed ominously. But he ignored her.
'Her voice annoys me...' he added, and then enlarged his shield again, which he had shrunk as he ran. 'Let's go down and get them. I'm sick of this place...'
Harry agreed with him, and waited no longer. They made their way down, leaving one floor after another behind them, and the noise of battle grew louder. Harry was now sure that Luna was right, because he could hear Hagrid's deep cries more than once, which he had had the pleasure of experiencing only a few times. They paused at the turn of the spiral staircase, and Harry leaned low, cautiously, to peer down to the level where the scuffle was taking place.
On the first floor, a small group of Faceless, washed out by the flood, were fighting. Hagrid, Aberforth, George, Cho Chang, Hannah Abott and Susan Bones duelled with the masked men and Octavius Prince, who seemed to be losing his nerves completely as he shouted and cursed incoherently.
'We must help them!' Ginny said, and would have run down to join them if Harry hadn't stopped her.
The Faceless spotted them and immediately attacked, bombarding the spot where she had been standing moments before with curses.
'Merlin's beard...! Thanks...' gasped Ginny, frightened.
'We have to help Hagrid's team!' Neville said determinedly, but Luna touched his arm gently.
'That was not our plan,' she said with an incredible calmness. 'They must keep the Faceless busy...'
'The plan is off!' shouted Harry nervously, whose every nerve of his body was also wildly demanding that they join Hagrid immediately.
The Faceless outnumbered them, others were arriving alongside their still soaked companions, and Harry was hauntingly reminded of another line-up... No, he wasn't going to let the others suffer again for his mistakes!
'Come on, we'll run down the stairs,' Harry called back.
He went in front, and with his wand he immediately conjured a strong shield in front of them, which banged and thudded as it absorbed the curses that struck it. After Harry, Ginny ran down with Malfoy - the Slytherin boy had to be dragged, which posed a great danger to them all, as the Faceless immediately took advantage of the situation.
Cho and Hannah noticed that the Faceless were aiming upwards and turned back to see the new arrivals.
'Harry!' shouted Cho. 'What are you doing here?'
'Did you find Ron?' Hannah shouted over the battle.
Harry didn't have time to answer; Luna ran down the stairs after them, helping Astoria, and both Ginny and Malfoy shielded them from the curses.
'Avada Kedavra!'shouted a Faceless, and a chill ran down Harry's spine as the green lightning struck.
The killing curse sliced through the shield charm as if it wasn't there, and would have hit the two blonde girls dead on if Luna hadn't leapt forward, pushing Astoria with her. The smaller girl fell screaming down the stairs, straight at Malfoy, who shoved her off, cursing. Luna fell between the sprawled boy's legs, and when she looked up, she smiled.
'Hi, Draco...'
Malfoy scrambled back from her and moved to the side of those fighting in front of him, to get as far away from her as possible.
Neville was next, and the Faceless again aimed at the stairs excessively, one flare after another flying until a second killing curse tore through the shield. The green lightning fortunately missed Neville by a long shot, but the next curse, a purple spell with a sizzling sound, hit the boy in the leg.
Neville immediately collapsed, rolled down the stairs and cried out in pain.
'Ahh! He-help! Somebody!'
'NEVILLE!' screamed Hannah, and leapt up to run at him, but was pulled back by Susan Bones fighting beside her; one of the Faceless' curses missed her by millimetres.
'My leg...' Neville gasped. 'Something's happening to my leg!'
Harry crouched down and with a quick wave of his wand, ripped the trousers open. Where the spell had reached him, a large patch of the boy's skin was discoloured, and as Harry touched it, he felt how hot it was under his fingers - as if he were burning with a fever. Harry saw immediately that there was a big problem: The red stain on Neville's leg was spreading, just like the terrible magic on Dumbledore's hand that emanated from Voldemort's ring.
'Do something!' Neville cried, desperately clutching his leg.
Harry acted without thinking; he pointed his wand above the boy's knee, which was not yet under the curse, and said the only incantation that he knew to be appropriate for such occasions:
'Expecto Signum!'
Snape's sealing spell had done its work - the curse had stopped spreading and Harry was able to reduce it to a single point on Neville's foot. By the time he was done, all that was left was a small red patch resembling a birthmark.
Neville slowly calmed down, and the others, in the heat of battle, wondered for a moment at their partner's good fortune.
'Thanks... thanks, Harry...'
'Can you walk?'
Neville wiped his sweaty brow and, with Harry's help, scrambled to his feet and leaned against the wall. He looked exhausted from the pain, but he clutched his wand with determination.
'I'll be fine,' he said hoarsely, nodding to him.
Meanwhile, Ginny and Luna clambered forward to help Hagrid and Aberforth, who were struggling with the Faceless gathered at the other end of the corridor, and Cho and Hannah struggled back to the bottom of the stairs. Hannah went straight to Neville and hugged him, Cho turned to Harry.
'Ron and Hermione were not here?' she asked in a loud whisper. Harry shook his head.
'They are somewhere else... What happened to you?'
'The rebellion is over,' she said, 'those masked men killed most of the prisoners, and the rest escaped through the north gate. Now it's just us fighting them, but there are so many of them! We came in here looking for you...'
Cho's words were interrupted by an explosion, which cracked the ceiling and sent up a great cloud of dust. The battle continued through the cloud of smoke, curses flying back and forth blindly. Aberforth and the opposing Octavius Prince fought each other like madmen at a distance, their wands spinning sparks in their hands. Aberforth was struck on the head by a piece of debris, but instead of collapsing from it, he fought even harder.
'Tell me more!' Harry urged Cho, wanting to hear all the details, to know how much time they had left, whether they could find Ron and Hermione or whether their last chance had gone.
'I don't want to say it too early, but those dementors saved us... at least for a while,' she said with a pouty face. 'When they invaded the city, the Faceless stopped looking for us and we were able to hide. Ginny's parents searched the south jail, but a few minutes ago they sent around a message with the coins that the whole building was empty...'
'Damn it!' cursed Harry to himself. He hoped that if they couldn't find them in the north cells, they might have luck at the south gate, where the Nameless had locked the three of them up the first time. But where could they be then? Perhaps they have fallen into the hands of the werewolves again, and are sitting in a cage under the butcher's shop? Or perhaps they were free to walk the city and have already escaped with the other prisoners? Harry had no idea.
'Listen, Harry,' Hannah said, when she had calmed down a little. 'Do you know what a vanishing room is?'
'The vanishing cabine...'
'No-no, room!'
Harry looked at her, startled.
'When we hid in one of the houses, we heard the Faceless talking about it.'
'Yes, indeed!' nodded Cho. 'They said they had prepared the vanishing room and now they just had to wait. Do you know anything about that?'
'I have no idea how...'
They couldn't discuss the issue of the vanishing room any further, because the explosion happened again, this time right above Ginny's head, and the crack widened. Harry realised what the Faceless were trying to do: bring the whole ceiling down on their heads.
'We have to go!' shouted Aberforth to the rear, who had also noticed the enemy's efforts; his beard swung as he dodged a curse, which then slammed into the wall just beside Cho's head. The girl screamed to shield her head from the showering debris, but Hannah defended her with a quick flick of her wand.
Harry's heart was beating in his chest like it was playing the drums. He could see George diving for cover from a curse; he could see Hagrid swinging his big umbrella and throwing sparks of fire at his opponents; and there was Ginny in front of him, sending a whole army of bat-bogeys at four Faceless. They all fought fiercely, but Harry was terrified of a repeat of the bloody outcome of the Battle of Hogwarts, and of having to bury his friends again. Once again, he felt that death, which Dumbledore had said he had mastered, was yet again looming over him, towering over him like a formidable foe...
He knew that they would have to retreat one more corner, but he didn't want to do it any further. How far back should they retreat? Sooner or later a wall would stand in their way. He wanted to end this fight...
He held his wand in both hands, and concentrated as hard as he could, pouring all his strength into the spell, almost feeling the immense power gathering at the end of the thin branch, and when he sprang from behind his cover, like a heavy husk, he swung the wand and shouted:
'DIFFINDO!'
There was a deafening crack, like a giant tearing apart a hundred thousand pages of a book, the sound of the floor splitting beneath the feet of the Faceless. The cracking spell had split the solid rock lengthwise beneath them, and now they were all falling to the ground floor.
'Vinculo! Vinculo!', Harry said the incantation in turn, caging the masked men, including Octavius Prince, who were falling helplessly.
The dust rising from the falling floors was filled with shouts and crackling sounds as the masked men tried to escape their prison. Octavius, who was hovering almost near the ceiling, quickly learned from the mistakes of the others and did not try to puncture the bubble.
'Harry... help...' came from below.
Hagrid's silhouette slowly became visible in the settling dust; the ranger clung to the edge of the floor with one hand. Harry knew he was in no danger - the giant would have survived a much greater fall without a scratch - but he could not climb up alone, for he held his precious crossbow in one hand.
Harry helped him with a levitation spell, then sighed as he surveyed his destruction. When he turned back to the others, he noticed that they were looking at him with open mouths.
'What is it?' asked Harry, but at that moment he saw shadows darting down below; the dementors had returned. Without a moment's hesitation, they grabbed the Faceless caged in the bubbles and took them with them, into the depths of darkness, where Harry knew well what awaited them.
'Damn it!' he growled as he and his cursing companions watched the proceedings. They knew it would only be a matter of moments before in would be their turn.
'We have to get out of here, and fast,' George suggested, pulling Luna along behind him.
The others did the same, but Ginny stopped Harry by the arm.
'We have to bring him too!' she pointed to the terrified Mr Prince floating in the bubble, but she didn't wait for Harry to act; she pointed his wand at the cage. 'Accio.'
The soap bubble flew past the dementors and braked in front of them, then burst with a loud pop. The battered-looking sorcerer fell to the ground, but Hagrid caught him by the collar.
'Come on!' urged George.
Everything around them seemed to freeze, the lights went out and the whole building shook as if there had been an earthquake. Cho, Hannah and Astoria screamed in fear as the stairwell and the other end of the hallway were flooded with the black creatures. There seemed no escape from them...
George and Aberforth were at the front; the grey-haired wizard had found a multi-person cell with a massive iron door.
'Here, quick, get in!' the old man shouted, opening the door wide, and Ginny, Luna and Astoria ran in.
'Then we are trapped!' Neville shouted at the top of his lungs.
But there was no other choice, Harry saw that. There were so many dementors that everywhere he looked, all he saw was blackness. They had to wait or prepare themselves in a safe place until...
He could no longer think. One by one they sneaked into the cell, Hagrid threw Octavius through the door like he was a light rag doll. The wizard gave a loud whimper against the wall, but by the time he slid down to the floor, Harry and Neville had already slammed the door behind them.
'Quick, let's close it! Collop...'
'No!' said Ginny, grabbing his hand. 'Transform the door, come on!'
Harry didn't argue, with a lightning quick swipe he stretched the door, the iron stiffeners digging deep and becoming one with the black stone just before the first dementor flew through it.
'Wow, that was a close one...' muttered George, wiping his sweating forehead with a shaking hand.
'Why did you tell me to transform the door?' Harry asked Ginny.
'Dementors suck the magic out of everything to the last drop,' answered Aberforth instead, who was soldering his bleeding forehead with his wand quite clumsily. 'Not only out of humans, but of objects as well. If you'd used a locking spell, it wouldn't have lasted a minute... Damn it! I've never been good at stitching...'
Hannah immediately offered to help the old man, and kneeled down to help him. Luna supported the heavily breathing Malfoy, while Astoria sat shivering between Cho and Susan Bones, who, though they didn't know her, were hugging her shoulders in support. Hagrid dared not move from the transformed door, which now banged steadily from the dementors; the gamekeeper clutched his crossbow and watched the wall with a wary eye, as if afraid it would be breached. For the moment, however, there was no such threat, and Harry, Neville, George and Ginny turned to Octavius, who was against the wall.
'That dementor is so excited because of you, isn't he?' Ginny asked with piercing eyes. Mr Prince immediately pulled on his superior expression and replied dismissively:
'It's none of your business. My lady will soon drive them out and kill you for invading our city.'
George took a deep breath and, slapping his knee, rose from the ground and stood before the old wizard.
'What do you say we throw you out to that dementor, and we'll just walk away? Hmm...? How does that sound?'
Octavius Prince gulped, and Harry saw then, in his wildly darting eyes and nervously twitching facial muscles, that there was nothing at all in the man that would resemble Severus Snape. Snape would never be so openly frightened by such a threat, nor would he ever show his fears. Least of all to him, Harry...
'You're a noone, Prince,' said Ginny, who had apparently come to a similar conclusion. 'Your grandson had more dignity in his little finger.'
Mr Prince was too scared to get angry, so the only thing he showed at the mention of the word "grandson" was a strange little twitch in the back of his neck. He remained stubbornly silent, but restlessly turned his head from one to the other.
Then Aberforth gently pushed Hannah's hand away, when he felt the treatment was enough, and stood up. He came to stand beside them, and, like Harry, he put his hands in his arms and stared down at Octavius.
'You're a necromancer, aren't you?' he asked him in a hoarse voice. 'Like your son, Marius.'
Mr Prince was still silent, but with a blink of his eye he gave his answer. Harry thought that he himself might be a better Occlumens than this wizard.
'If you really are a necromancer...' continued Aberforth after a cough, 'then you know what will happen to you if that bastard breaks down the door. It will suck out your soul and...'
'I know!' the wizard blurted out for the first time. 'But my mistress...'
'Of course, your mistress will protect you?' Ginny cut him off. 'I don't see her rushing to your aid.'
Mr Prince blinked in confusion, apparently coming to a similar conclusion. But it was only now that Harry remembered the detail he had overlooked: where was the Nameless? Why had he not attacked them before, what was he waiting for? Or was it possible that he was not in Nurmengard?
He shook his head; he couldn't deal with that now, he had to concentrate on their current problem. As long as the dementor was here, they could forget about finding Ron and Hermione...
'So you're a necromancer,' Harry muttered to the man, trying to ignore the hungry squeals the dementors were making outside the door.
'So what then? Are you arresting me, Mr Auror?' Octavius tried to make a mockery, but he didn't quite succeed.
Harry continued:
'Tell me, what would happen if we killed the first dementor?'
At his question, the wizard's expression turned dumbfounded, and Harry saw Ginny and Aberforth glance at him.
'What?' groaned Octavian.
'What would happen if we killed the Viking with the Claymore of Spirits? The dementors would multiply endlessly, right?'
Everyone in the room was watching Harry, even Hagrid came from the door where he had been standing guard, frowning as he waited for the necromancer's reply.
'How the hell would I know?!' Octavius Prince replied incensed. 'I've never killed a dementor! I've never met anyone who's even seen such a thing...'
Harry did not despair, he crouched down in front of the man.
'Well, you'd better have a good look at Hagrid and his crossbow, because he's killed dementors with it,' he said calmly.
Mr Prince looked at them with his mouth agape. Harry remembered what he'd seen in the Pensieve when the Nameless had pompously told Octavius that the Claymore of Spirits was definitely not with Hagrid.
Harry nodded.
'I saw it with my own eyes. And if you knew only a fraction of Legilimens, as your disowned grandson did, you'd know I'm not lying.'
While he was talking to the wizard, the dementors were banging incessantly. Malfoy rose from the floor and went to the door Hagrid had left unguarded.
Tired of listening, Harry pounced on the prisoner:
'Go on, strain your brain! It's in your interest to get out of here alive!'
Mr Prince winced and shook his head wildly.
'I don't know... I-I don't...' he gasped in confusion.
Harry did not accept this answer, and the wizard could see it in his darkening expression. Perhaps that was why he changed his mind and answered again after taking a deep swallow.
'Theoretically, it would destroy everything it created.'
Harry covered his mouth, and he was not alone in his astonishment. He heard George's breath catch and Neville's strange little moan.
'What?' grumbled Aberforth.
Hagrid hummed distrustfully, and Ginny frowned.
'Are you sure?' she asked.
Mr Prince, however, sighed deeply, and continued reluctantly:
'One thing is the same in necromancy: nothing is permanent. Every corpse that is raised, every spell, lasts as long as the necromancer lives. When a necromancer dies, all his inferi, all his demons or vampires are destroyed.'
Harry listened intently. He knew nothing at all about necromancy, and now he could not rely on Hermione's omniscience, but could only trust that the wizard would be honest and not try to deceive them.
Mr Prince explained further:
'The other dementors are not real dementors. There is only one. The others are just copies of him... second-borns. They have no will of their own, no purpose other than to collect souls for the original and return to it. The recall...'
'The recall, of course!' remembered Harry. Marius had also spoken of the second-born, and he had seen it with his own eyes when the Viking swallowed his mates. That bizarre gathering was probably burned into his memory forever.
But Aberforth was sceptical.
'Do you think he's telling the truth?' he murmured softly, but Octavian heard him.
'I'm not lying,' he said. 'But I could be wrong...'
'You're not wrong,' Harry said firmly, and stood up.
That was enough for him, he was sure that the dementors could be defeated now, they always had been, only no one knew about the Viking, except for a small band of necromancers. Perhaps even Dumbledore had never heard of it, which was why he had told Hagrid to guard and keep the Claymore of Spirits a secret.
Ginny stared wide-eyed at Harry.
'How do you know?' she asked.
Harry gave a faint smile.
'Because I saw it myself.'
'What?' squinted Aberforth.
'I saw the dementors unite with the original,' Harry explained. 'The Viking recalled the others. If we kill him, the others will die with him.'
'Are you sure?' Ginny asked cautiously.
Harry hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
'Yes.'
He could see that he hadn't completely convinced Ginny, but he himself knew it had to be this way. He wouldn't have given much for Dumbledore or Snape to be here with him now to advise him on such dark matters, but he couldn't wait for help any longer. He had to make the decision himself, and he was ready to make it.
'We'll kill the Viking,' Harry decided, 'Hagrid and I will lure him up to the roof using Prince, and you can escape. Find Ron and Hermione, and when we're done...'
Ginny and the others started to protest even before Harry had finished his sentence.
'I'm coming with you!' Ginny stated.
'No, Harry, I'll go instead!' George volunteered.
'Why do you have to go with Hagrid?' complained Hannah, who obviously only felt safe around Harry.
Harry shook his head.
'I have the strongest patronus among you, and someone has to protect Hagrid. Besides, the bait has to be taken care of,' he looked down at Octavius, who was craning his neck, 'and Ginny... You have a strong patronus, you chased the Viking away once. You have to protect the others from the dementors.'
He waited for everyone to take note of the plan and come to terms with its uncomfortable details, and then, after a deep breath, he continued.
'Here's how we do it. When Hagrid opens the door...' here he exchanged a look with the half-giant, 'Ginny and I will chase the dementors away with our patronuses. The others will save their strength to help Ginny out when she gets tired.'
Neville, George and Cho nodded resolutely. Astoria shook like a leaf beside the girl, and with closed eyes she prayed, perhaps to gather strength for the next rush – because Harry was sure they would have to run. The dementors would not leave much time to think - once the door opened, there would be no turning back.
'All right,' Harry acknowledged. 'Then everyone knows their job, right? Malfoy, get out of there, you're with Ginny and the others.'
The blond boy was still standing at the door, his back to everyone. He rested one hand on the rough panel of the iron door, but he was shaking even more than Astoria. He was shaking so badly that Harry thought he was crying, but then his wheezing voice revealed that he was getting sick again.
'Malfoy...' growled Hagrid, looking at him with piercing eyes. 'Are yeh all righ'?'
'Come on, we have to go,' Ginny said in a slightly kinder tone.
'No.'
That one word sounded very different from anything Malfoy had ever said before.
'Let's not argue now, okay?' snapped Neville impatiently, who was getting very fed up with the blonde Slytherin. 'You go with Ginny and...'
'I'm not going anywhere... Neither are you.'
Malfoy turned around - and what they saw made Harry's feet root to the ground.
The boy's skin was blotchy, turning a bluish hue, and his usually greyish eyes now emitted a pale blue glow.
Ginny, Neville, Hannah and the rest of them all stood back as one, with Luna the only one not moving, and Malfoy immediately took advantage of this.
'Accio!' he pointed his wand at her, and an invisible force pushed the blonde girl into Malfoy's arms, who immediately pointed the weapon at her head.
'What the...?!' Cho and Susan Bones cried out in fright, the others pointed wands at the bright-eyed Malfoy, Harry desperately trying to aim at the boy's face next to Luna's head.
'Merlin's beard!' roared Aberforth. 'But it's...'
Ginny shook her head in puzzlement, as if she hoped she was imagining the bluish light.
'Malfoy, what the hell is wrong with you?'
'Malfoy isn't at home at the moment...' the boy grinned over Luna's shoulder. 'Just me, good old Marius.'
Everyone was staring in shock at the new enemy, only Luna stood there as calmly as if she were watching a moderately exciting theatrical performance, of which she was a spectator and not a character.
'He has taken the form of Malfoy!' George shouted, his usual nonchalance gone.
'No, he couldn't have had time!'
'Maybe he's possessed, like Ginny from You-Know-Who.'
Hagrid's guess immediately pointed to the answer for Harry. It all made sense at once, Malfoy's recurring illness, the blue-glowing eyes...
'A horcrux.'
Ginny gaped at him, then back at Malfoy.
'You mean...?'
Harry nodded; now that he knew what he was up against, he wouldn't take his eyes off his former classmate for a moment.
'I see. The wand... Malfoy took Marius' wand, and while he had it, he got worse and worse,' he explained to his astonished companions, wondering how he had missed this detail. 'When it was taken from him along with his clothes in the hospital, he mysteriously recovered. And when I gave it back to him, it began to possess him again... The wand contains the piece of the soul.'
Malfoy's confident grin disappeared from his face, slowly giving way to an angry snarl. He was not happy that his secret had been discovered, only more desperate to grip the long, thin rod that bound Marius to this world.
'You won't be content for long, Potter!' Malfoy hissed in Marius' voice, his eyes turning even bluer.
He struck his wand with terrifying force against the iron door, which immediately burned through, and the molten hole expanded so quickly that before Harry and his friends could do anything, the dementors were squeezing through.
'Expecto Patronum!' shouted both Harry and Ginny, but even the two patronuses could not stop what the Malfoy-invading horcrux was about to do.
The girls screamed in fear, the cold, even with the two patronuses, came like a freezing monster that they could do nothing about. Even in the confusion, Harry could see what was happening: Malfoy had pushed Luna aside and was quickly snapping his wand at the fleeing Mr Prince.
'Avada Kedavra!'
'Vinculo!'
Harry was only a second too late; the spell had imprisoned the possessed Malfoy, but the green lightning bolt had ripped through the room, between Cho, Susan Bones, Aberforth and Hannah, straight to the necromancer's heart. Octavius Prince collapsed dead on the grimy stone floor, his distinguished robes half slipped off his embroidered red coat, his greasy black hair falling in his face.
'Expelliarmus!' cried Harry again, and disarmed Malfoy before he could test whether another deadly curse had broken through his prison. Marius' wand slipped from his fingers, and Aberforth stunned him with another well-directed curse.
The dementors had been pushed out of the cell by the patronuses, had left through the same hole they had arrived through, and now they swarmed the corridor in an almost uniform black cloak, like a ghost woven from smoke, spewing cold and fear everywhere. Harry and Ginny's patronuses were joined by Neville's bear and Aberforth's glowing goat, and the four animals cleared the creatures out of the way.
'We need to go now!' Aberforth shouted over the hungry screeches of the dementors.
Harry knew they couldn't wait any longer, Malfoy had ruined their plan, and they couldn't count on any other bait...
'Quickly!' urged Hagrid, who had knocked down two dementors in the process. The black creatures shrieked in deafening cries as the arrows pierced their backs.
Cho and Susan Bones had already jumped out of the hole and helped Astoria through, who was in tears. George, Ginny, Aberforth and Hannah also made it through, with Luna the last to go, who, with Harry's help, pushed Malfoy's bubble through the door and then used her wand to guide him onwards.
'Go on, I'll be right there!' Harry said to Hagrid, and then began a feverish search.
'Accio wand!' he said the incantation, but nothing happened.
Harry slapped his forehead - one can't just summon a horcrux. He lit a light and searched every nook and cranny, dark hole, and finally found Marius' wand under the bunk.
'Harry, come on!'
He fished out the wand and ran after Ginny and the others, but slowed in the corridor when he caught up with Hagrid, who was at the back of the pack. He took the giant's elbow and silently pointed towards the stairs.
'What are you doing?!' Hannah screamed back when she realised they were falling behind.
'We must stick to the plan,' said Harry. 'We must kill the Viking or we'll never get out of here!'
'Harry!' Ginny was about to turn back, but when the sounds of the approaching dementors came, the others stopped her.
'Look for Ron and Hermione!' shouted Harry. 'Find them!'
There was no time for more words; the dementors were already back, and as expected, they were after Malfoy and the team. They glided down the corridor like ghosts, bringing with them a chill wind of frost behind their black cloaks.
'Hey!' shouted Harry. 'We are here! Come this way!'
The creatures turned around. Harry raised Marius' wand so the dementors could see what he was holding - then started running in the opposite direction, dragging Hagrid, who was just aiming down sight for another target, with him.
'Not like that, save your arrows!' Harry advised. 'We need to finish their master!'
'I don' know which one that is Harry,' Hagrid panted as he ran.
'You'll see. You will recognize him!'
All of the dementors were chasing them, and Harry and Hagrid were running as fast as they could, up the stairs, up the stairs, as far away from Ginny's group as possible...
Harry was in the lead, and Hagrid turned back almost every second to keep an eye on their pursuers - his finger was trembling on the lever of his crossbow. The stairs went up and up, and the floors were full of dementors everywhere.
'Where are we going, Harry?' Hagrid sighed.
'Up on the roof! We can't stand up to them here. We have to draw them into the open...'
The roof was approaching, Harry could see the faint light filtering in, but the dementors were already on their heels. One of them proved quicker than the others, and in a turn of the stairs he caught Hagrid's ankle, and with a powerful movement simply dragged the ten-foot gamekeeper to the ground.
'Hagrid!' cried Harry, when he saw the dementor already dragging his friend down.
The crossbow slipped out of Hagrid's hand, and he could only swing his umbrella at the beast's head, but without a patronus charm it was no more use than a cane.
'Expecto Patronum!' Harry's spell made the stag leap forward, and with its antlers it slammed the dementor, which fell back into the icy gloom.
'Thanks, mate...' said Hagrid, out of breath; he was very pale from the fight. 'That bastard was strong...'
When he got up, he picked up his crossbow and they were on their way.
Leaving the last floor behind, Harry opened the door at the top of the stairs and the dark stairwell was flooded with the yellow light of the setting sun. For a while, the sudden brightness made none of them see anything, but they squinted around with teary eyes.
They arrived on a cool, windswept roof with a parapet running around it like a fortress. Above the black cornice, only the tower in the middle of the town was visible, the roofs of the houses were obscured by the wall.
'And now?'
Harry didn't have time to answer Hagrid's question; dementors emerged from behind the parapets and rose up, over Harry and Hagrid's heads. They all looked at them from behind their hoods, and held out their bony, water-corpse-like hands to them.
'We're in a very bad situation, Harry...' growled Hagrid, watching their opponents with worried eyes.
Harry thought so too, but he was confident that the Viking would turn up soon. Until then, they must keep the others - the second-born, as Prince called them - at bay.
Because he said nothing, Hagrid cleared his throat.
'What should we do?'
'We're not doing anything,' Harry whispered to him, but he didn't take his eyes off the black creatures. 'We keep them away from us so that the Viking is forced to come here. He can break through a patronus, the others can't...'
Hagrid digested what he had just heard and took the crossbow in both hands. Harry hadn't often seen his giant friend so restless, and that was never a good sign – for they were always in big trouble in such moments.
A few dementors launched an attack, and Harry waited for just that: he had already summoned another patronus, and the creatures retreated at the sight. Harry summoned the stag twice more, and now, with the stag from the stairs with them, a total of four glowing beasts circled around them, keeping the monsters thirsting for their souls at bay.
'That's it Harry!' enthused Hagrid.
'Don't shoot them!' Harry warned. 'Save your arrow! I can handle these...'
The wind blew a little harder, Harry's robes swayed. He held Marius' wand aloft for the dementors to see. He knew very well that Marius would want his Horcrux back, he would never let him, who was almost world famous for destroying a few Horcruxes, have his. The most important thing for the dementors now was to take the wand.
What a strange situation, Harry thought as he looked at the cautiously hovering creatures. One of his enemies wanted the wand resting in his right hand, the other the one in his left.
'Which one is it, Harry?' Hagrid asked anxiously.
'None of them,' Harry shook his head, 'he's not here yet... We have to prove they can't touch us first, only then will he show up.'
He hadn't even finished his sentence before the dementors attacked again, this time in greater numbers and from all directions. Harry was not worried, he knew that four patronuses could easily hold them off. And so they did: the stags bowed their fair heads, and their gleaming antlers drove the dementors back - the black tide broke on the gleaming beasts. A great thundering whirlpool swirled around them, enveloping them, just as it had done out on the snowfield when they fled from Marius' house.
'Merlin's holy beard!' roared Hagrid. His moleskin coat was torn by the wind, and he seemed to need to restrain himself from shooting the dementors.
'Wait, Hagrid!' shouted Harry over the squeals. 'Wait!'
Snow began to fall in the middle of the black whirlpool. It was almost unbelievable that amidst the rumbling and screaming, the fat flakes that had settled on Harry's shoulders should fall so calmly. He looked up and saw that the beautiful evening sky of a few minutes before had turned a starless night-black.
'Get ready...' he warned Hagrid.
The gamekeeper was also looking at the sky and aiming his crossbow upwards.
For seconds nothing happened, they waited impatiently, their hearts pounding in their throats. Harry kept half an eye on the whirl of dementors, but they circled tirelessly, forming a continuous wall around the patronuses, who scratched the floor restlessly with their shiny hooves. Then suddenly a black shroud appeared, but so quickly that Harry felt he was already too late, before he called out to Hagrid:
'That's him! Shoot him Hagrid! It's him!'
The arrow flew out, but did not hit anything. By the time it had left the string, the Viking was elsewhere - standing beside Harry, gripping his wrist, which he used to grip Marius' wand.
'Damn it!' snarled Hagrid. 'Hold on Harry! It's almost...'
He did not wait for Hagrid; he struck at the dementor with his own wand, but before he could utter the incantation, his opponent ducked away. Harry felt the creature dragging him by the wrist, and before he could do anything, he was thrown into the vortex of the dementors.
'Harry!' he heard Hagrid shout in the black cold. 'I'll be right with you Harry...'
Hagrid's voice died away, and with it the scream-shriek-screeching had died away as well, a perfect, icy silence surrounded him. He was alone with his thoughts, with the horrid images that appeared one after another in his mind.
He will fail, he will die here on this roof, and he will never see Ron and Hermione again...
Despair overwhelmed him, and he could not move, waiting for a redemptive death, so that he would never have to see the faces of his dead friends again...
They're all going to die, and you're incapable of helping them, the voice in his head repeated, an embodiment of his own fears.
The four patronuses immediately came to his aid and chased the dementors away. He was only exposed to the power of the black creatures for a few seconds, yet it seemed like hours to him.
Harry escaped, but Hagrid was left defenceless. The Viking's offspring whizzed past him, but they were also afraid of Hagrid, who inserted the second arrow with a trembling hand.
'Take this!' the ranger shouted, as he aimed the crossbow again.
The arrow flew out again, but this time it hit another dementor, which whizzed in front of the Viking at the last moment. It fell to the ground, screaming, and its master threw himself furiously at Hagrid, who was fumbling with the third arrow.
'You bloody bastard!' the giant's voice sounded like that of an enraged lion.
The Viking knocked the Claymore of Spirits out of his hand, and it shattered on the ground, the arrow falling far away. The next blow struck Hagrid, who was knocked over the side of the parapet by the force of the slap and disappeared from Harry's sight.
'HAGRID!' he cried in horror, but there was nothing he could do.
The Viking had now turned all his attention to him, and the four patronuses could no longer protect him, for now that their master had joined them, they could no longer cope with the superior strength of the dementors. Seeing Hagrid's defeat, Harry was once again overcome by fear and despair, and was helpless to let the Viking snatch Marius' Horcrux from his grasp.
The master of the dementors raised the wand to his once human face and looked at it closely. He seemed to be struggling, opening his mouth, perhaps to absorb the piece of soul enclosed in the magical device, which must have been as tempting to him as a dinner. But he mastered himself, and passed the wand back to one of the second-born, who took it as if it were a fragile treasure - in the hands of the dementors it obviously was.
The Viking grabbed Harry's clothes and pulled him to his feet as if he were a light rag doll. Then he leaned close - his own wand hung limply in Harry's hand - and began to breathe thunderously.
The wand twisted out of Harry's fingers...
Strangely enough, it was not the horrible thoughts and feelings that came back to his mind, but something else entirely. He saw and heard nothing but images flashing in his head, like frames of a film. It was Legilimens - and yet it wasn't; it wasn't his own memories playing out before him, that wasn't what the dementor was curious about.
A huge figure clad in armour stood on the carved prow of a ship, a sword with a broad blade at his side... - Harry recognised in him the garb and the bulk of the Viking warrior - His long blond hair was held together by a shining iron band on his forehead, and on his fingers were rings of great size.
The picture has changed...
An old, toothless old woman, wearing a necklace of bones, shouts and argues with the Viking warrior in a crackling, unintelligible language... The man is enraged and strikes the witch, whereupon she points a thin wooden stick at him and shouts a spell. From the end of her wand, a spiralling crimson snake of flame emerges...
Events then accelerated, and Harry witnessed a series of what Marius had told Eileen at her house about the first dementor.
He saw devastated villages in flames, warriors dressed in terrifying armour, charging down the refugees with battle cries, lots of blood and bodies everywhere...
Then the sea...
The dragon ship was tossed by waves, the shore was nowhere to be seen... The sea calmed down and a milky white mist covered everything... The warriors grew hungrier and more restless, arguing and fighting among themselves to quench their anger, but they could no longer quench their hunger...
Harry could see through the dementor's eyes the spoiled food, the empty nets that had been thrown out several times, yet nothing had been caught with them.
And he could see the warrior leader slowly being overcome by the curse... He could feel the hot breath, the choking taste of coughed up soot in his mouth, the burning sensation in the centre of his chest, as if he was burning from the inside and slowly turning black like the dementors around him.
One of the Vikings, carrying a large mace, was shouting at the leader... Harry knew he blamed him for their misfortune.
They fought among themselves... The others waited anxiously to see who would prevail... Finally, the leader struck the head of his rebellious soldier with a blow.
Harry felt differently now. In addition to the hunger of the past weeks, another feeling had taken over: an irresistible desire that demanded he not let the fresh meat go to waste...
The Vikings looked on in horror as their leader bent over the dead man and began to eat. But the horror was overcome by a much stronger instinct, the human spirit was overcome by animal desires, and they joined him...
There are no human beings left on the ship.
Again the pace of events quickened, and as much as Harry protested at the sight, he couldn't close his eyes - the story was playing inside his head.
The crew was dwindling, the weaker fell prey to the stronger, until only the leader was left... The ship was drifting north with its only passenger, drifting between ice floes, and nothing could ease the Viking's anguish. His face turned blue, his teeth fell out one by one, his once powerful body wilted, a thin skeleton, a shadow of its former self.
Then something happened...
The curse took hold, and when he reached the point where only death awaited him, he was suddenly changed. There was no more pain, no more cold - he became the ghost of winter itself.
Harry didn't know why the dementor was showing him all this - perhaps he wanted him to see what he was before he killed him - but the Viking King's story was over, and Harry knew that his time was up.
He heard a knocking sound...
Harry looked down and saw that his wand had landed, lying at his feet. The whole vision lasted no more than a moment, and yet it felt like long minutes.
Perhaps there was nothing extraordinary about the dementor showing him his life story. Maybe everyone sees it in their last moment...
The dementor opened his terrifyingly large mouth and stuck it on Harry.
He barely touched it, and then suddenly it separated from him, and with some elemental force he threw him backwards. Harry fell, narrowing his eyes from the pain, but he felt through his closed eyelids a white light warming his face, which he knew at once could only come from a patronus.
Harry opened his eyes, but had to close them immediately due to the glare. It was as if the whole roof was bathed in a flood of light. When he finally got used to the bright light, he saw the true form of the patronus. It was a griffin bird, a lion-bodied creature with the head of an eagle, flapping its wings, standing between Harry and the Viking, who was grinning at it. The other dementors immediately fled from the flood of light and the indigo blue sky has returned.
Harry sat up, but felt a stabbing pain at his waist; he reached over and was surprised to find that he was sitting on the dropped arrow. The light began to fade, and finally the patronus simply disappeared. Harry looked around, but he could not see the summoner, he did not know who had come to his aid, and why he was leaving him alone. There was no time to think any more, because the dementor had returned and the second-borns were approaching the roof again. When he looked up, the dark figure loomed over him, his twisted black face painted with the fiercest fury as he reached out again with his bony fingers towards his victim.
Harry carefully felt for the arrow...
The fingers were already wrapped around his neck, and the rotting mouth was only a centimetre from his, but then Harry thrust the arrow upwards. The metal point, attached to the end of the thin stick, pierced the dementor's chest like a hot knife through butter.
The creature reared up and threw himself backwards, but Harry squeezed the feathered end of the arrow so hard that the dementor pulled him along. When he was on his feet, he thrust the arrow in with a strong movement, just before the Viking's swinging arm hit him.
Harry fell, and his back struck painfully against the parapet; the end of the arrow remained in his hand - the point broke into the wound, and the dementor could not get it out.
The other dementors shrieked at the same time as the Viking, as if they were all one mouth, chanting their deafening chorus as their birth father went through his death throes. His mouth opened, his spine arched back, and from the depths of his black throat flew tiny blue light-bugs, but so many that they seemed to be one continuous beam. Harry stared in amazement at the scene, which was almost endless, as one after another of the absorbed souls - for Harry could think of nothing else when he saw the little lights - were released from their eternal prison.
The dementor finally broke free of its suffering and fell to the ground, and the others were engulfed in blue flames. They burned like torches, gathering dust and dying with their master until only ashes remained.
