Chapter 40: Problems
I'm trying to think about how to make the beginning of this story more interesting… the later chapters are longer and more interesting. (Probably because I got better along the way.) Does anyone have ideas on first 7 chapters or so?
Enialedam: It is really god forsaken long… maybe I should have put some of these ideas into a different story. Have you read Harry Potter and the Third Key? That's got over 70 chapters, and all the chapters are (I'd guess) a good three times as long as mine. (It's on Schnoogle.)
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Malfoy stood back at a distance and watched the fight begin. He would be cursing Potter right now, along with the rest, but he had orders.
And as a Malfoy, he did his duty. Whether he enjoyed it or not. Right now, he was enjoying it, with his typical sneer fixed in place.
He was among the most powerful Death Eaters, despite his age, and he intended it to stay that way. There were always others vying for power, influence. Right now many were directing their misbegotten schemes at Voldemort's new pet. The man was from some god forsaken region of the planet, and as creepy as they come. His specialty -demons. He was a problem simply because he was a mystery. Draco didn't know what he wanted.
Draco had no intention of risking Voldemort tracing him to say, a poisoning. No, he just set others to the task, without them knowing it. Dimwits.
Potter was putting up a damned good fight. Draco hadn't seen him since he'd been at school, except of course, in the newspapers. The reporters had taken to using charms to keep the image of their star in place. How the aforementioned annoyance was managing such a strong shields, Malfoy would never know. -and was that a staff? Potter always was a showoff.
Malfoy laughed as one of the Death Eaters (with those special shields) tackled Potter. And, by the expression on Potter's face, he didn't want to kill him. Good thing for Potter that could fight physically.
Son of a Muggle Bitch, Malfoy cursed mentally, as a minor explosion rippled outward from the altruistic brat, tossing Death Eaters and various creatures away from him.
"Malfoy," the familiar cold voice hissed from behind him, radiating that familiar chill.
Draco turned and bowed to the creature he had been born to follow… as long as it remained viable, of course. "Lord." Behind Voldemort was a dark thing, as repulsive as the dark lord and even more frightening. No doubt that demon spawned pet of Voldemort's had somehow drawn it out of some hellish dimension. It didn't seem to really be there, so shadowed was it's visage. Draco kept his expression blank.
Potter was much closer to the edge of the graveyard, whether intentionally or not.
Voldemort hissed something in parseltongue; The creature started for Potter.
"You may begin," his 'master' informed Draco.
With his signal, eight Death Eaters, all magically strong and steeped in dark magic, surrounded Potter while the demon kept him busy. They trained their wands on him as the others stepped back. His Master had found a way to make Potter's life interesting, one that he believed suitable for his father's murderer. They began chanting.
The area darkened unnaturally. It was still day, yet the pale blue light that began surrounding Potter shone clearly.
The light coalesced around Potter, and the expression on Potter's face flickered, with just what Draco couldn't discern. Potter was still engaged with the Demon, however, and his sword was now jagged from impacting with the Demon. Potter tossed the sword over his head and it struck a Death Eater in the abdomen.
Voldemort made no sound as he stood nearby Draco.
Another reached over from behind and grabbed the wand, and a more feminine voice continued for him. That reminded Draco that the Lestrange woman had been captured. Once Potter was in control, her husband would no doubt have at him. Draco would try to get that recorded; Both Lestranges were experts at torture, mentally and physically.
Potter cut deeply into the demon's neck with a new sword, which Draco had noted had materialized in his hand. Magical energy ripped through the sword, and into the demon. Most interesting. They had really chosen their tool well.
Potter looked around him, with a tight face, as if he were trying to figure out where some pain was coming from. Again Malfoy wondered what exactly Voldemort's spell was doing to him… Speaking of which, the second phase was beginning.
Dementors, their tall dark forms noticeable among even the Death Eaters, moved forward.
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Far too soon, the guests would start dying. The spell would, literally, still them. Humans were never completely still; Our hearts pumped blood through our veins, our lungs automatically drew in air. This spell would kill, and for all his knew, Seamus was already dead.
Ron faltered mid sentence and sat down clumsily, promptly falling off the chair; Hermione fell shortly after.
He summoned a shielding charm as the wizards outside approached. He knew, however, that he could not hold it and begin the transportation charm Hermione had taught him. He was in a bind.
He considered his options while Sirius' voice boomed through the building as fended off frightened guests. Begin the transportation spell and leave the defense to others; Lead the defenses while trying to devise another way out. He could try clearing a path for the guests, but the muggles among them would not be able to apparate out. They had used portkeys to get them here, but unlike old times, they hadn't had to each dozens. Instead they had tied them all to one portkey, and that just do happened to be entirely too far away from the building, in light of the situation; In other times it would be a splendid stroll through the gardens.
"Brian!" His voice carried urgency, though remained controlled. This was not the first crisis he'd been through.
In the war, Brian had worked with him as even Ron and Hermione hadn't. Both had been key figures, and had their own responsibilities. The first time someone died under his command, Brian had forced him to remain sober. Then he'd gotten him drunk. "What do you got?"
"I can't to do two things at once. Hermione could do the spell, but I don't have the time to release her from the curse. So, you've got to hold out." He gave Brian his best estimate of how long it would take, and his friend grimaced.
Knowing that Brain would take care of organizing a defense, he reached to Hermione prone form, and took an object out of a one of her hidden pockets. Being a Unspeakable meant she always tried to be prepared for unexpected difficulties.
As he took the object, He called out for everyone to gather around him. Unconscious figures lifted from the marble floor, and slowly floated closer to him. The smaller the translocation circle, the faster he could perform the spell. It meant that the defenders would have to get themselves into the circle before a certain amount of time elapsed as well; Lest they be trapped on the wrong side as he had been once.
So he began the spell, surrounded by the unconscious, aware of a number of presences closing in on the building.
A good deal of the wizards were readying themselves for defense, as many were not strangers to war, (thanks to a vicious civil war); Though Ginny was directing the brave but inexperienced towards Harry. While a good portion of the guests were either Aurors, Unspeakables (not that anyone knew), and such, being associates of Ron and Hermione, some only had experience in suffering from byproducts of the war, but not in battles.
Others had been visited by the terror engendered by such peril, and stood nervously, fidgeting. Muggles who had felt the side effects of the war through their wizarding relations tried calming others, or waited grimly. Parents clutched their children for fear that they might try running away as the noises of battles began piercing the air.
More still fell; Those who chose to defend were not immune, making it increasingly difficult for them. Someone saw the need, and stationed a few for the sole purpose of getting the fallen out of the way, lest they trip those who were fighting.
Through his 'other' senses, Harry could still perceive what was occurring, when other wizards would be blind and deaf. He felt the attackers' surprise as some bold muggle let loose on them with bullets… he couldn't imagine who had actually brought a gun to the wedding. Or had some wizard conjured it?
Magic swirled around him.
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I thought this part of the flashback was a bit long winded, but, oh well. It'll be ending soon anyways.
