With Darkness There'll Be Light
Thirteen - The Battle Cry
The next sequence of events happened as if in slow motion. Voldemort turned slowly to face his interrupter, Seamus' knees buckled and he fell to the ground with fear evident on his insipid face; the Death Eaters stepped forward out of the darkness.
Harry and Draco looked at one another, petrified with fear of the impending doom that was about to be bestowed upon them. Harry and Draco, normally strong and solid, were not afraid to show that they were, for perhaps the first time in their lives, not so sure they could overcome this huge obstacle in front of them.
Harry, for one, was very aware of the fact that he might die; and he'd never felt that way before…not even when he had been facing death all those other times. A glimmer of hope shined through in the back of his mind and kept his spirits high and his will strong.
That glimmer was lost.
Draco, who had never faced death such as this before, felt his lip trembling and his eyes close with regret. He was slowly resigning himself to the fact that a big battle was about to take place and that he might not make it out alive…his father hadn't.
His father, though, was not a good man and Draco was. Draco was on the light side, and good things happened to those who were truly good inside. Karma played a big part in the lives of wizards and witches. Today, when all hope was nearly lost, Draco would rely on it.
"Hermione," Draco choked out, "Hermione, get out of here." Ginny appeared behind her friend, dragging a very dead Gemma. Ginny, though still very pallid, looked stronger…but no less frightened. It was obvious that each step she took hurt her immensely and her face contorted in pain each time her shirt shifted over the slashes on her back, which still bled freely. Hermione's back was in better condition, but was still bleeding as well, through her tattered clothing.
Draco felt Ron visibly cringe at the sight of his worn sister, he put a hand out to stop Ron from moving. George and Fred seemed to want to go to her side too, but it was impossible.
Draco was slowly going crazy with worry. His eyes practiced their best saccadic movements as they darted from her to Voldemort and then around the room at all the Death Eaters.
Hermione's eyes glided from Voldemort to Draco and hung on his gray eyes for several seconds before she spoke, "Draco." Everything she felt, everything she needed to say was thrown out into that one word. Her regression of the fact that she'd ignored him for so long; the fact that she denied her true feelings due to some bit of her that was utterly stupid; her love for him. As soon as the love in her voice came out, it vanished. She had a lot of built up hatred inside that would not be pushed away so easily.
May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh how far you are from home
The room was filled with oppression that Harry had not felt since his visit to the Grangers' house. It seemed
that the room was cloaked in depression, devastation and a lust for destruction. On top of that, Harry felt his heart being covered with a thick blanket of fear.
That blanket of fear wove itself around Draco's heart as well, then moved onto Ron, George, Fred and Seamus.
Ron was not a coward, he was a brave Auror and he had a lot of fight in him. Ronald Weasley felt that fight draining away bit by bit just as the color drained from his freckled face. This was the first time he'd ever seen He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for real. He didn't like it at all, and if he lived, he didn't fancy having another go.
Seamus' brain was overloaded with rapid thoughts. He was not prepared for this. There was nothing in the Auror handbook about being surrounded by Death Eaters with Voldemort threatening to kill you. There was no class for this. Seamus Finnigan was not ready to die, but he didn't see any way he would live. The little hope that Seamus had come into this mission with, was slowly fading away.
Fred knew what he was getting himself into when he accepted this mission, Harry had warned him. He was ready to fight, and to complete his mission or die trying. Fred Weasley didn't care if he lived or died, he only wanted to make sure Voldemort couldn't hurt anyone anymore. His one regret was that if he died, he'd never see his family again…or Hermione and Harry who had become his extended family. He stifled a sob as he watched Voldemort's cold sneer lace his thin lips.
George was not ready to die, he had too much he had to get home too. He had too much he wanted to do with his life. He had too much hope in him to just give up. George Weasley would not give up. He would stand there and take Avada Kedavra in the chest if it meant Hermione and Ginny could get out of this alive. They were both his sisters and he was a true big brother. He would protect them.
Hermione's breath was brisk and her eyes glimmered with anger; pure and utter hatred. She'd caused death once before…and she wanted to see death at her hands once more. She was slowly losing herself as her mind became corrupted by the darkness in the air. Hermione Granger was no longer the know-it-all, she was rapidly becoming one of them…at least in their lust to murder.
Ginny was so weak that she could no longer stand. She saw, barely, her three brothers across the room from her, but she couldn't say anything. Her voice had escaped her, her thoughts had trapped themselves in her whirlpool of a mind. There was no way she could help them, no way she could fight. The life had been sucked out of her, she could feel it. Could feel it like she felt the cold stone behind her head and the sloppy, matted hair against her face. Her vision blurred and the scene before her swung into an unfocused mess.
Ginny fell to the ground with a hard thump as her head hit the stone. Then everything went black.
"GINNY!" Ron yelped, putting a foot out in an attempt to go to her.
Fred held him back, pulling on the back of his robe. "Ron, no. Don't move. She'll be fine."
"She's fine, Ron," said Hermione without sympathy.
Ron glanced at her, frightened, "Hermione, what's happened to you?"
Draco watched Hermione's eyes as the flickered with hate and landed on him. "She's killed…she murdered Gemma."
Hermione inclined her head slightly, and her voice came out, sounding quite unlike herself. "Yes. I have. How did you know?" The malice in her voice made Ron take a shuddering breath.
"I know you," Draco whispered, his lips very dry, his throat tight, his eyes serene and yet filled with worry.
Mornie utúlie (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantie (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now
"You DON'T know me," Hermione countered. "No one really knows me."
"That's not true and you know it," Draco replied compassionately.
"Excuse me, but let's stop with the little love fest," Voldemort hissed, "Let's get back to business." He turned to Hermione, who's cold, dead eyes were set on the Dark Lord now, instead of Draco. "Now, then. You don't think I'm going to kill them?"
Hermione grinned spitefully and took a step towards Voldemort. She noticed in the corner of her eye that Ginny's chest was rising slowly with each breath the younger girl took. This seemed to fuel Hermione's fire. "I think you're really just a coward. When push comes to shove, you can't handle it. You hide behind your army of Death Eaters who kiss the ground you walk on, but secretly despise you."
Voldemort chortled in a hissing way, "The only person they despise," he snarled, "Is Harry Potter who, for some odd reason, has lots of fallowed and undaunted power." His eyes flicked to Harry, who stood sternly beside Draco. Draco didn't seem to see anything except Hermione. His eyes were stuck on her, watching as her breathing grew more hasty and intense.
"It's obvious isn't it?" Hermione asked, a hard edge in her voice that made Draco flinch slightly. Harry noticed this and gave him a weird look, which he also gave Hermione. He knew Draco was right, he could tell Hermione had killed…when she had said Draco's name before, she had sounded like her old self, but that girl was in her no longer.
Harry avoided thinking about, vowing to keep his mind clear and his eyes on the event before him. Voldemort watched Hermione with bemusement on his face.
"He has power because his parents were powerful; it is undaunted because he is the bravest wizard in the world…and, really, he is the most powerful. You couldn't beat him. You can't beat him. You might as well give up and go back into hiding. No one wants to see you, you're a mere flicker of what you used to be. And you're so very ugly that my eyes hurt just looking at you." Hermione grinned wickedly.
Voldemort raised a pencil-thin eyebrow at her and his smile curled more evilly. It gave his face a very unearthly glow that made Harry's stomach contract and his heartbeat pick up. Draco's did something similar, only he knew why. Voldemort looked like some sort of makeshift devil, an anti-christ made of pure evil. And THAT was frightening beyond words.
Because what does one do when face to face with the devil? A normal thing would be running away in fear. Except the fellowship could not do that. They had to beat him once and for all.
The trouble was, it was no where as easy as it seemed to be.
The slit of Voldemort's nose was turned to the ceiling of the cavern and his eyes were rolled up as well. "So," he said pleasantly, looking back at them all and then glaring at Hermione before his voice hardened, "You have to rescue your rescuers."
Hermione tilted her head to the side, "You could say that, I suppose."
"And why didn't you just flee? You were free, I assume, by the fact that my most prominent Death Eater is now a pool of rotting flesh…" He looked at Draco warmly and in a fatherly way, "Lovely image, isn't it?"
Draco raised his eyebrows, and replied sardonically and flatly, "Yeah. Lovely."
He turned back to Hermione who was fidgetting beneath his gaze, "If I were you, I'd have left this lot to suffer. At least then you would have been alive."
Hermione glanced at Harry, who gave her a strong look of encouragement in response. "Well, that's you isn't it. And you're not me. I could never leave my friends to die, just so I could live. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
Voldemort yawned, covering his mouth with very thin fingers which tips had extremely sharp nails, "I suppose that is where you and I defer, my dear." He stood straight, "Would you like to go next? Or shall I leave you towards the end? Maybe I should go back and begin with the Irish half-blood."
Hermione shrugged innocently, looking like the Hermione of old. She spoke using a voice one would use for a toddler, "How about we make a deal? For every one of MY people YOU kill, I'll kill several…maybe, ten, of YOUR people?"
Voldemort laughed coldly, "Silly girl. Why would I do such a thing?"
"Because," she explained, twirling Gemma's wand around her fingers in a very Tom Riddle-ish way, "If you begin, you'll surely win."
"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled, "What are you doing!?"
Hermione fixed her eyes on Ron and smiled eerily, "Sacrifice, Ron…it's the only way to win."
George swore very colorfully, "Hermione. What the HELL is wrong with you?"
"She's a changed woman, Mr. Weasley," replied Voldemort, watching Hermione with renewed interest. "She is making her way to my side, if I'm not mistaken. She's willing to trade your lives, for lives of my Death Eaters. How this benefits her, I am not sure…but as long as it benefits me…" He shrugged in finality.
Draco finally caught Hermione's eye and mouthed, "STOP!" but she shook her head and looked away. "But, you have to promise to leave Draco and Harry for the end, like you said you would."
"Of course," Voldemort replied coldly, "I will not go back on my word."
Hermione smiled and nodded in satisfaction; Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Seamus. "Oh!" Hermione cried, "Wait!"
He sighed heavily and turned towards her. "What is it?" He spat.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" She bellowed as loudly as she could, her voice echoing around the room. Draco's eyes lit up, she'd been bluffing.
Hermione caught Voldemort's wand and held it up in her other hand. "Okay, so let me get this straight."
Voldemort stared at her with a calm placidness on his face.
Hermione smiled playfully, "I can Avada Kedavra you, and then if I break your wand…you'll vanish?"
Fred cleared his throat, "Uh…Hermione?" She looked at him blankly. "Voldemort cannot be killed with Avada Kedavra."
"W---what?" She choked out, her cold demeanor vanishing quickly. "What do you mean, he can't be killed?"
George closed his eyes and then opened them slowly, "He's barely alive as it is…I mean, he's not an actual alive 'human being'. He's something like a zombie…in the respect that's he's died and come back to life. He's not really living and therefore, cannot be killed with the killing curse. The killing curse is used for those who are truly alive, scientifically."
Hermione's lip began trembling and Voldemort sneered at her scornfully, "You really should have done your homework, dear," he said disdainfully. "Might be helpful to know exactly what you're dealing with."
Draco sighed heavily and looked at Harry. "Harry," he whispered. "We have to act soon. He won't play this game much longer."
Harry nodded squarely and raised his wand, pointing it at Voldemort. Soon, there were eight wands pointing at the Dark Lord. (The entire fellowship, plus his own, held by Hermione)
"I assure you 'twill not be as easy as to mutter a few little words," Voldemort said, finally noticing that the wands were all pointed at him. "You, of all people, Potter, should know that."
Harry raised an eyebrow, nodding slightly, "Yeah. But you know what? Everything's stronger in numbers. NOW!!!!!!!!"
And with that, the Fellowship all clasped their non-wand hands together, Hermione put Voldemort's wand in her pocket and rushed to Seamus' side, grabbing his hand.
Suddenly, it all erupted as sparks flew through the air, making the room look remarkably like Independence Day. Green jets of light smashed into people, knocking them over. Yells, screams and shouts echoed around the walls. Thumps were heard as some fell to their deaths.
Desolation was plummeting in on them.