Author's Notes: I swear to you guys, this fic will be done by Saturday, even if it kills me and I fail all my exams. Oh, what the hell do I care, I'd pass all my courses even if I wrote out a chapter to this story for my English exam essay.
***
The mansion was silent; as if alive, it seemed to be lying in wait with bated breath, in tune to its occupants and the furtive goings-on within itself.
Torches flared to life as a man, clad in crimson robes of silk with a hood that shadowed his face, descended the grand staircase. Confidently, he walked into the main entryway, idly swinging his wand.
The entrance hall was littered with statues and paintings of immense value, much like the rest of the mansion. The massive oak doors, twice the height of a normal man, were guarded on either side by polished, black, marble statues of warriors. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, illuminated by countless tiny flames. The ornate rug before the doors was blood-red, flecked with threads of silver, and looked almost like a pool of blood on the black and white marble floors. Mounted on the walls were the heads and other body parts of various animals, some normal-looking, others with fantastical fur or plumage.
The foyer was the first chamber one entered when coming into Stark Manor, and it set the tone for the rest of the mansion; it reeked of immense wealth and status, but along with feelings of awe, the room also caused shivers and morose thoughts. The entire mansion caused one to have an immediate sense of feeling very small and insignificant, which was, of course, exactly what the manor's owner intended.
"Are they ready yet?" the crimson-clad figure asked of another hooded man, who had been waiting for him near the towering, oak doors. Intricate carvings were etched into the handsome doors, and the second man was idly tracing these with a black-gloved finger.
"Nearly," his companion replied, continuing to run his gloved fingers over the door's designs. "They have to wait for dark, of course."
"And may I ask why you're just standing here?" the first man demanded scornfully. "Don't you want to be there when they finally do it?" His eyes gleamed greedily.
"Draco ordered me to stand watch here."
"Is he expecting company?" the first man scoffed. "Who is Draco Malfoy to order us around, anyway? We, who have been devoted to the Dark Hand for years. He only just arrived in England, and he thinks he can just take over – "
"Dameon respects him."
"Please. Dameon isn't even the one in charge here."
The second man stopped tracing the etchings in the doors and raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"Didn't you know? There's someone else, someone above even Dameon in this. Dameon is only his messenger, his puppet."
The second man looked skeptical. "I haven't seen this man."
"Neither have I," the first man admitted. "But it's what they say."
"Well, I don't ask questions," proclaimed his companion. "Tony asked questions, and look what happened to him."
His cohort greeted this with silence. "Besides," continued the man by the door, "I don't particularly care who's in charge. Whoever it is has gathered all five scrolls. They got the job done."
His companion showed a row of sharp, white teeth. "True. We'll see the Muggles suffer tonight, mark my words. And they thought the illness was the worst of their worries." The two hooded figures exchanged smirks.
It was then that they heard the sound; a faint series of pops outside the doors.
Both men rapidly drew their wands, on every alert, jaws quivering and heart rates increasing.
"What was that?" said the second man in a panicked undertone.
To both their surprises, the next thing they heard was a loud rapping on the oak doors. Neither of them dared to move, however. Then a muffled voice spoke on the other side of the doors.
"By order of the Ministry of Magic, these doors must be opened within the next five seconds," the loud, male voice threatened. "You will comply immediately, or face the consequences."
The two crimson figures inside Stark Manor exchanged wild glances. "I thought Dameon took care of any interference!" one of them hissed.
"Five…" began the voice, "four…three…"
"Don't you dare open that door," the first man snarled, slapping his companion's hand away from the golden handles. "They couldn't possibly have a warrant. They can't do anything."
"Two…"
"Are you sure?" said the second man anxiously.
But his friend had no time to respond, because the next second a chorus of voices had simultaneously shouted a word, and with a sound like thunder, the grand oak doors ripped off their hinges and soared backwards into the foyer. The two men were sent sailing backwards by the force of the magic that had blown the mighty doors away. The men landed in a crumpled, crimson heap on the grand staircase just before the doors themselves crashed to the ground and splintered into a thousand pieces, taking several statues and expensive pieces of furniture with them. The ear-splitting sound of the fallen doors echoed throughout the mansion, causing the chandelier above to rattle violently.
As the sound eventually faded away and the dust settled, a group of dark-cloaked figures marched into the hallway, carefully stepping over large pieces of splintered wood and shattered marble.
"One," said a red-haired Auror in grim satisfaction, blowing on his wand.
"Knock knock, Stark," another said coldly. He was instantly recognizable as none other than Harry Potter.
***
"There were men guarding the door," Jameson announced, wandering over to the staircase and bending over one of the hooded figures. He pushed the man's hood back with his wand to get a proper look at his face. "Ugh. Thatcher Ralston." He turned to the second figure and did the same. "And Dietrich Mulberry. Scum of the aristocratic world. No surprises here."
"I thought I told you clowns not to attack unless attacked," Moody barked, glancing over at the unconscious men.
"It's their own faults for standing behind the door," Joel shrugged.
Meanwhile, the commotion in the foyer had not gone unnoticed; several shouts could already be heard, the voices sounding far-off, but drawing ever nearer. The Aurors already had their wands drawn and ready, and had instinctively moved closer together, ready for the expected oncoming attack. Hermione was among them, wand also drawn, grimly determined to fight as well, despite the fact that she could barely stand. Ron's heart thudded in his chest, racing with fear, but also with excitement. It had been a long time since he had participated in a good, old-fashioned, Ministry "raid". Yet the stakes were so much higher this time. It wasn't a game.
A group of crimson-clad figures burst through a door on their left, wands pointed at the group of Aurors.
"Stupefy!" the crimson figures shouted one after another, red jets of light bursting forth from wand after wand.
"Does this constitute being attacked, Moody?" Radcliff yelled.
"Shields up!" barked Mad-Eye, ignoring him.
"Protegga Superiorus!" the Aurors immediately shouted out all at once. A beautiful, emerald light escaped from each of their wands, and poured, like a liquid, over them and onto them. The spells from the members of the Dark Hand bounced harmlessly off, rebounded by the waves of emerald light. The curses shot off in different directions to do more harm to the already-damaged entrance hall. Another cluster of Dark wizards banged into the foyer, furious, just as the emerald light around the Aurors dissolved.
"Split up!" Sirius immediately yelled, and the group dispersed quickly, weaving into the mass of crimson robes as a fierce battle commenced, and all hell broke loose.
"Hermione, down!" Ron instantly commanded, roughly shoving her downwards and dropping to the floor himself as a number of spells flew over their heads. "I don't care how determined you are to fight, I'm not letting you just stand there and get blown to pieces," Ron said fiercely into her ear, his body pressed against hers on the floor.
Heart pounding, temples throbbing, and muscles aching, Ron painstakingly crawled through the combat, his belly to the floor and Hermione by his side. His eyes quickly scanned the damaged entrance hall for a place Hermione could take cover near, safe from the curses exploding from wands all around the room. He spotted a fallen marble statue leaning precariously against a wall, creating a small, sheltered space where Hermione could hide. He pushed her towards it, trying to yell instructions to her; but over the chorus of voices shouting curses and spells, he wasn't sure that she could hear him. Nonetheless, she obediently crawled into the space between the statue and the wall, giving him a bold and fearless look as she did so, wand still drawn and ready.
"Just for now," Ron promised her. He leapt to his feet.
Not seconds after Ron had joined the fray, he noticed streams of light bursting forth from behind Hermione's shelter, hitting members of the Dark Hand and causing them to cry out and fall to the ground, unconscious or frozen. Ron glanced back to see Hermione's wand darting out from behind her cover to occasionally do the much-needed damage. Had the situation not been so dire, Ron would have grinned wildly. Nothing could stop Hermione Granger.
"Harry!" Ron yelled over the din of battle, ducking a curse as it was flung his way. He returned the favour, his attacker's robes bursting into flames as Ron's spell hit its mark. The man's shrill screams rose over the din of battle, piercing Ron's ears.
"I'm a little busy!" Harry hollered back, cursing one man and elbowing a man sneaking up behind him in the ribs. Leave it to Harry to do things the Muggle way.
"We don't have time to waste on these idiots! It's the scrolls we want!" Ron shouted across the room. "Stupefy!" he quickly chanted as two men advanced on him.
One went down, but the other managed to get in a well-placed, "Dardreo!" Ron hunched over, eyes bulging, as the spell hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to see stars. Ron desperately tried to suck in air, but found his windpipes blocked by the curse. He continued to make an empty, wheezing sound, trying to get oxygen; the battle swam before his eyes and he began to get light-headed. But before Ron's opponent could take advantage of his impaired state, a well-aimed spell from behind Hermione's shelter took him down.
The curse wore off, and Ron greedily sucked in a lungful of air. He would definitely make this up to Hermione later. But right now, no marble statue was going to shield a weak, seriously ill witch for long from the damage some of these Dark wizards were capable of doing. It was fine for the moment, but Ron needed to get Hermione somewhere safe; not to mention they had to do what they had come to do – find the scrolls. Ron's eyes scanned the room for a way out; he spotted a fairly clear path towards a richly carved door behind the staircase.
"I've got to get Hermione out of here! Watch my back!" Ron shouted to Harry. Ron dove to the ground to avoid another curse coming his way and quickly crawled towards Hermione, who was looking even paler than he remembered her looking only seconds ago. It seemed as if the spells she had been using were draining her of energy.
"C'mon," Ron said, reaching out to grab her cold, white hand with his own slippery one. He pulled her out of the shelter and hastily raised a temporary shield around the two of them. Harry was frantically cursing everyone within three feet of the pair.
Hermione stumbled; Ron quickly put an arm beneath her to support her, and managed to drag her towards the door near the staircase. Praying that it was unlocked, Ron kicked it open with a booted foot and all but flung himself into the darkened room, taking Hermione with him. Breathing hard, he slammed the door behind them and magically sealed it, hoping the seal would hold, and that the rest of the Aurors would be a sufficient enough distraction to keep their enemies from pursuing him and Hermione.
Ron turned, panting, to see Hermione leaning against a panelled wall, eyes wide and glittering with fever in the dark room.
"He's here," she breathed. "They're here. The scrolls, and Stark. Right below us."
***
Diana had never had such an adrenaline rush in her life. She twisted and whirled, yelling curse after curse until her voice was hoarse, taking immense satisfaction in making their enemies fall. These were the same stuck-up, superior aristocrats who thought they were so above her, what with her family's Dark history and her father's degrading reputation. Diana, much like Sirius Black (whom she had become quite fond of), still received disapproving stares and was the subject of many whispered conversations at the Ministry of Magic. Yet her only crime was being the daughter of Alonso Drago, whereas these men were lurking around in some secluded mansion, planning the destruction of Muggle-kind.
Diana caught a glimpse of Granger and Weasley ducking into a doorway out of the corner of her eye, and briefly wondered where they were going before turning back to the more pressing matters at hand.
"Resideratum!" screamed her current opponent, obviously sick of trying to disarm her and suddenly opting to curse her instead. Surprised at this abrupt change in tactic, Diana did not have the time to put up a strong shield or a block to the curse. Nonetheless, the spell rebounded harmlessly away, and Diana turned in surprise to find her partner by her side, the tip of his wand still faintly glowing after having blocked the curse for her.
Diana grinned at him. She may not have been a part of Potter's little trio, but she was still his partner. His eyes flashed, but he didn't grin back; of course, this wasn't just another fight, especially for him. He was raised among Muggles, and although Diana knew he wasn't particularly fond of his Muggle family, many non-magic people were important to Potter – like Granger. Diana's grin disappeared and she returned to focusing on the battle. They weren't making much leeway, and the men in crimson robes seemed to have only been sent to waste the Auror's time and keep them distracted. The members of the Dark Hand had not attempted any devastating curses yet, but it seemed they were losing both their cool and their patience.
Finally, the inevitable happened – one of them snapped.
Jeremy Desiderius hopped out of the way of a curse and childishly smirked at his attacker, grinning superiorly at him. He must have been hopping around like this for awhile, gleefully avoiding curses just to irritate his opponent, because the hooded man's face was flushed with anger and annoyance.
"Crucio!" the man suddenly roared, pointing his wand at Jeremy.
"Jerry!" Joel hollered in warning, seeing the danger to his partner.
The smirk was instantly wiped off of Jeremy's face as the curse hit him and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony. The young Auror's shrieks filled the entrance hall, rising up over the clamour of the battle and giving everyone pause for a second.
Potter swore angrily and his face contorted into a mask of fury. "That's just playing dirty!" he yelled furiously, rushing over to stop the wizard who had performed the Unforgivable on Jeremy without a second thought. Diana shook her head and quickly raced after Potter, lest he do some damage to himself.
The hooded man was attempting to make a hasty retreat, his eyes glimmering maliciously and his cheeks flushed.
"Expelliarmus!" Potter cried. But the spell went wide of its mark, and Harry wisely decided to tackle his target instead, knocking the slight man roughly to the floor. Potter managed to snatch the man's wand from him as the two of them fell to the ground in a tangled mess. Grunting, Potter caught Diana's eye and disentangled himself long enough to toss the wand to Diana, for only the wand that had performed the Unforgivable could undo the damage.
"Finite Incanteum!" Diana quickly chanted. Jeremy abruptly stopped screaming, though he remained in a crumpled heap on the marble floors, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his face and neck. Diana snapped the Dark wizard's wand in half and tossed it at the man in disgust. Potter rose to his feet, having seen to it that the hooded man would not awaken for quite awhile. Joel, meanwhile, had rushed to his friend's side and had put up a quick shield to keep wayward curses from hitting his fallen partner.
One of their opponents abruptly froze in mid-step and barked something in a rapid, mysterious-sounding tongue. His companions dropped what they were doing and simultaneously disappeared with consecutive pops. The Aurors were left alone in the enormous foyer, which became eerily quiet after the last echoes of battle had faded away.
"Everyone all right?" Harry called out, sounding exhausted.
They weren't; Jeremy was down, quite shaken but still conscious. Ian had received quite a blow to the head, and Robbie looked worse for the wear from being thrown around the room with a Levitating spell. Sirius' arm was bleeding - and from the expression of pain on his face, his bad leg seemed to be ailing him - but other than that he and the rest of the Aurors were physically fine. Joel just looked completely petrified; this had been his first all-out battle, and the rookie was physically and emotionally drained, not to mention frightened. Diana's shin throbbed painfully, and she idly wondered when she had injured it. She felt fairly certain that she'd have a very attractive, purple bruise there if they ever got out of that mansion alive.
"Landers, you stay here with Dion and Desiderius," Moody commanded, hobbling over to where Joel was kneeling rigidly beside his partner. Mad-Eye looked physically fine, but the battle had taken its toll on even the seasoned Auror. He was breathing heavily through his nose and his limping was even more prominent than usual. "The rest of you, get a move on. I want every corner of every room of this house searched for those damn scrolls. I don't know where those idiots went, but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't to tea, so be on your guards. Constant vigilance!" he emphasized, smacking his fist into his palm. He briefly glanced over to Sirius. "You all right, Black?"
"Fine," Sirius insisted breezily. "I'll take the upper levels," he said, nodding towards the staircase. He smoothly turned into Padfoot and bounded up the stairs, no longer held back by the limitations of his human body. Diana briefly wondered if he could perhaps smell out the scrolls as Padfoot; an Animagus was useful to have around after all.
Moody nodded his grizzled head. "I'll go with Black. Mungston, you and Darnell take the lower levels. Murdock, you and Howe investigate those rooms to the left of here. Potter, Drago, you take the right." He took a breath and glanced around, his magical eye rolling to the back of his head. "Where's Weasley and Professor Granger?"
"They slipped away during the battle," Harry explained, worry evident in his voice and in his creased forehead.
Mad-Eye paused. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he finally grunted.
Exchanging last glances with their companions, the Aurors began migrating in different directions, leaving Joel, Jeremy, and Ian in the front hallway. Diana drew her wand and followed Harry towards the arched doorway on their right, and into what looked like a sitting room.
Diana glanced around as they slowly moved through the room. Like the foyer, the supposed sitting room gave the distinct impression of being a room no one would really be comfortable sitting in at all. Two enormous fireplaces were on opposite ends of the room, protected by metal grates which glinted at them menacingly. Scattered about were a few enormous armchairs, covered in silver and burgundy, with curved backs that made them appear to be living creatures with arched backs. Diana couldn't help but shiver slightly. Her muscles were tensed and she was ready to pounce or flee, should she need to.
She glanced out a small window near one of the fireplaces, with crimson curtains drawn tightly around it. Diana swiped the velvet curtains away and glanced outside; the afternoon was growing late, and, being February, the sun would soon set. Diana exchanged meaningful looks with her partner and let the curtains fall back into place.
"There's nothing in here," Potter said in a low voice, moving towards a shut door on the other end of the room. The door was unlocked and gave way into a room similar to the last one. Diana idly wondered what in the world one man, with supposedly no immediate family and no wife, needed with more than one sitting room. Shaking her head slightly, Diana's eyes swept over the room, and, seeing nothing, she moved towards another closed door and stretched out her hand to tug it open.
She heard a faint clicking sound as the lock protested and the door did not budge. Diana glanced over her shoulder at her partner, who was examining small, carved figures of snakes on the mantle of a fireplace with curiosity.
"This one's locked," she announced. Potter instantly dropped his interest in the figurines and walked over to the door, standing beside her.
"Then that means it's the only one worth getting into," he noted grimly, trying the lock for himself. He pulled out his wand.
"Wait, Potter," Diana said quickly, glancing from Harry's determined face to the locked door. "You don't know what's waiting for us behind the door. There could be a dozen of our old hooded friends in there just waiting to curse your socks off. Don't be a hot-head and just rush into things this time…just wait, think things through for once, get ready for – "
"Apertoporta!" Potter said firmly, pointing his wand at the door. The lock shattered and it swung open, as if inviting them into the dark chamber beyond it.
Diana sighed heavily. "Hot-head," she muttered, following him into the room.
This room was different from the others. There was not a torch in sight and the windows were covered with layers upon layers of dust, allowing only slivers of light to pierce through them and enter the room, which was shadowed and dark. From what Diana could see, there appeared to be no furnishings in this chamber. There were no fine decorations or plush furniture – in fact, the only object she could make out was a fireplace with a grate similar to those in the last few rooms. Even Potter hesitated as he entered, wand drawn and ready. Diana remained close behind him, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dimness in the shadowy room.
"Lumos," Harry whispered, his soft voice sounding extremely loud in the empty room. Diana followed suit, although the spells did little for them. The weak lights from their wands scarcely cut through the darkness, and only revealed what Diana had already suspected; the room was indeed empty, and seemingly deserted.
Potter began to wander forward, and Diana followed beside him, an uncomfortable feeling settling into the bottom of her stomach with every step they took. Something was not right. Her heart began to speed up; she briefly worried that Potter could hear it hammering against her rib cage.
Suck it up, Drago, Diana scolded herself sarcastically. What are you, afraid of the dark?
Diana suddenly saw Harry's shoulders hunch, and his muscles tense. She froze, an odd ringing in her ears as she strained to listen for whatever faint sound had caused him to pause. Diana glanced at her partner's face by the light of her wand; his jaw had suddenly clenched, and he was pressing his lips together so hard that they were turning white.
"Don't move," he mouthed to her. Diana nodded imperceptibly, clutching her wand. Scarcely daring to breathe, she watched as Potter slowly raised his wand in front of him and then abruptly spun around, pointing the wand before him.
Diana heard Harry's wand clatter to the floor, and she too whirled around only to see a thin, polished wand staring back at her partner, aimed directly between his eyes. Her heart stopping briefly, Diana's eyes travelled up the thin wand and up a crimson-clad arm, coming to rest on the face of the wand's owner.
It was Draco Malfoy, an ecstatic smirk on his face, cold eyes glinting with pleasure.
"Well, well, Potter," he said in delight, as one would after finding a marvellous surprise for themselves. "Are you what all that commotion was about earlier?"
"Isn't this a surprise, meeting you here," Harry replied wryly, keeping his composure. His eyes were on his fallen wand; he must have dropped it in surprise at finding Malfoy's wand in his face when he had turned around. Malfoy noted this and trapped Harry's only weapon beneath one of his dragon-hide boots.
"Oh yes, that's right, you were on to us, weren't you?" Malfoy laughed scathingly. "I can just picture you and Weasley congratulating yourself on your cleverness. Well, bravo, Potter, you have my admiration." Draco gave a mocking little bow, keeping his wand steady. "I must admit, Dameon's crackpot little plan of Muggle domination sounded quite blasphemous to me at first. It was really you, Potter, who convinced me to lend my help to him. Because I knew that you and the rest of those laughingstocks would be the ones attempting to stop him, and it gives me immense pleasure to see you struggle so."
Malfoy laughed again and dug his wand into Harry's forehead, causing Potter to wince slightly. "I was most surprised when I discovered the historical evidence supporting Dameon's…or shall I say, Mr. Ademon's…plan, and then I was truly intrigued, especially given his family's history with the Dark Hand and the Scrolls of Scuro. It was an interesting lark to embark upon, to say the least, and of course, the fact that it actually worked due to the incompetence of your precious Aurors was an added bonus," Malfoy said in satisfaction. "Because I do love to see Mudbloods suffer…almost as much as I love to see you suffer, Potter." He grinned wickedly and viciously dug his wand into Harry's forehead again. "I've been gone for far too long," Malfoy whispered, smiling madly, his eyes glinting with malevolence.
It was only then that Diana seemed to come back to reality, and find her voice. Although Malfoy's wand was pointed at Harry, her wand was pointed at Malfoy. She finally spoke with steely coldness. "Drop the wand," Diana commanded bluntly, thrusting her own weapon forward.
Draco's smile widened as his eyes slowly shifted over to the raven-haired woman. "Ahh…" he said, his eyes flashing with recognition. "Now I remember you." Malfoy smirked. "You were that whore from Durmstrang."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry barked, fists clenched. Diana suddenly felt new courage flood into her, and she coolly took a step closer to Malfoy, her wand still pointed directly at him.
"Yes, I remember your father as well," Malfoy continued, obviously enjoying himself. "What was it again…Drago, yes? I believe we got off on the wrong foot, didn't we?" He flashed a perverse smile as his eyes raked over her.
Diana continued moving towards Malfoy, whose countenance clouded. "Not another step," he said lightly, pressing his wand into Harry's head again.
"Go ahead," Diana challenged him mockingly. "I dare you to."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "You're far too bold, Miss Drago," he said curtly, clenching his teeth and tapping his wand against Harry's forehead, as if to prove his point.
"Do it," Diana said carelessly. "What do I care if you kill Harry Potter? I'm a Death Eater's daughter, after all - "
Harry's face briefly clouded; but then, realizing his partner's strategy, he relaxed somewhat.
" – and you're a Death Eater's son," Diana continued, taking another step forwards. "We should be jolly good friends, shouldn't we? I believe our disgusting excuses for fathers were."
Draco's eyes flashed with anger. "Don't you dare speak about my father that way," he hissed.
"Have a sore spot about Daddy dearest?" Diana asked tauntingly, taking another step forward.
"Not another step!" Draco screeched again, this time rather shrilly. He was quickly losing his composure, and his carefully slicked, pale locks were beginning to fall out of place.
"Go on and kill him," Diana said indifferently. "See if I care." She noted a dull ache in her chest, and realized that it was coming from her heart.
Draco's eyes returned to Harry; they were now gleaming, and Diana was starting to suspect that Draco Malfoy was quite mad. Harry only returned his old enemy's gaze back calmly.
"You fancy yourself omnipotent, don't you, Potter?" Draco whispered. He suddenly shook Harry violently, until Potter's teeth rattled. Diana took another alarmed step forward.
"Because of Snape's sacrifice, hmm?" Malfoy laughed maniacally, and stopped shaking his boyhood rival. Harry only glared stoically back at him.
"Well, you may be safe from the Killing spell," Draco said, a mad smile lighting up his pale features. "However, your girlfriend is not!" Malfoy suddenly spun to point his wand at Diana. Caught off guard, Diana only managed to blurt out the beginning of a spell before Draco had disarmed her. Diana's wand flew across the room, clattering to the floor somewhere in the darkness.
Draco now slowly changed his aim, pointing his wand at Diana, though he still held Potter close to him by a fistful of Harry's black cloak. Malfoy gave another frenzied laugh, and leaned closer to Harry.
"How shall I do it, Potter?" he asked, sneering. "She's such a pretty little thing. It would almost be a shame to kill her. Perhaps I'll put her under Imperius, to keep for my own uses…"
Harry finally snapped; he furiously attempted to break out of Malfoy's iron grip and use his wand, but Draco was faster – with a screamed curse, he sent Diana flying backwards into something hard and stone. Reeling dizzily, her head screaming in pain, Diana crumpled to the ground. She saw through blurry vision the shadowy form of Harry cringe, feeling Diana's pain through their bond. Harry then straightened as the echo of pain began to subside, and stopped struggling out of fear that Malfoy would attempt to hurt Diana again.
"Yes, that's what makes you weak, Potter," Malfoy said in revulsion. "Attachments. Love. Disgusting. In fact, that's almost as disgusting as Granger and Weasley." He suddenly chuckled to himself. "A Death Eater's daughter, the object of Harry Potter's affections. How ironic.
"Now, Potter," Malfoy spat as Diana's vision began to return to normal. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark room by now, and she could see the outlines of Harry's and Malfoy's bodies. Malfoy still had Harry by the collar. "I know I can't kill you through magic," Draco drawled, reaching within his cloak for something. "But all those people, dead at your feet, sacrificing themselves for something as worthless as you, can't possibly protect you from other means of harm, can they?"
Harry blanched; Malfoy had finally affected him. Harry had always blamed himself for the countless people who had died because of him, either purposefully or inadvertently – his parents, Snape, Colin Creevy, Susan Bones, Dean Thomas, Cedric Diggory, and countless others. Draco sneered, knowing that he had hit home, and Harry finally broke his gaze with his old enemy, looking away.
Diana's head was throbbing painfully, but the pain was slowly subsiding and giving her room to think. She had slammed into something cold and stone; the fireplace, perhaps. Suddenly seized with an idea, she moved her hand over the surface of the fireplace, searching for anything she could possibly use. Her hands closed around something long, cool and metallic; a poker.
Malfoy suddenly brought his face dangerously close to Harry's. "All those people dead, and for nothing. Because you're not as omnipotent as you think, Potter," he hissed, a fanatical grin slowly spreading over his face. It was then that Diana saw the flash of something steel in Malfoy's grip.
Her insides turned to ice. It was a dagger.
"Harry!" Diana screamed in warning.
Harry's eyes dropped. He immediately spotted the dagger, and frantically pushed away from Malfoy with all his might as Draco prepared to plunge the dagger into Harry's abdomen. Diana leaped to her feet, still dizzy from being hurled against the fireplace, the poker in her hand.
Harry's struggling caused his position in Malfoy's possessed, iron grip to change just as Draco raised the knife, and instead of lodging itself in Harry's stomach, the dagger plunged into Harry's leg. He howled in pain. Diana sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her partner's pain in her own leg through their bond. Trying to ignore Harry's pain, Diana sprinted towards Malfoy, the iron poker in hand. Draco, now angered, pulled the bloody dagger out of Harry's leg and prepared to stick it into its original mark.
Before he could, however, Diana arrived and swung the heavy poker into Malfoy's skull with all her might. It connected with a sickening crack, and Malfoy stumbled backwards, Harry's wand rolling out from beneath his boot. Harry swiftly dove for his wand, though his leg was bleeding freely.
"Kinetica!" Harry cried, blasting Malfoy away from him. Malfoy went flying across the room, and slammed into a wall with the distinct sound of breaking bones. Malfoy's broken body fell into a crumbled heap in the darkness. The room was silent after that, devoid of movement or sound, until Harry let out a little gasp of pain.
"Let me fix it," Diana ordered, her heart pounding at double its usual rate as she kneeled beside him. The pain was slowly starting to dull and fade away in her own leg; it had served its purpose to warn her of Harry's danger, and now would slowly disappear so that she could help her partner.
"You don't have your wand," Harry reminded her, breathing shallowly and clutching his leg.
Diana swore. "Give me yours," she commanded. Potter weakly handed it over, and Diana uttered a useful little spell that stopped the bleeding.
"There. It's not healed, but it's not bleeding either," Diana said matter-of-factly, trying to disguise the fact that she was badly shaken. Her hands must have been trembling slightly nonetheless, because as she drew her wand away from Harry's wound, he suddenly reached out and grasped her cold, sweaty palm. His intense eyes locked with hers for a brief moment, and then Diana slowly pulled her hand away, her heart racing. She got up and slowly walked across the room to check on Malfoy.
"I think you may have killed him," Diana commented as she bent down to check the little slime's pulse. Regrettably, she found one.
"Good," Potter said fiercely.
Diana didn't have the heart to tell him that Malfoy was alive. Then again, once he'd calmed down, Harry would probably be thankful that he hadn't killed his old enemy. He tended to have a conscience about things like that.
To Diana's relief, she spotted her wand lying a few feet away from Malfoy's immobile form as she got up. She snatched it off the floor and pointed it at Draco.
"Petrificus Totalus," she murmured. Malfoy froze as he was, a twisted heap of crimson robes. At least this way, if he did happen to wake up, he wouldn't be going anywhere.
"Well," Diana said, walking back over to Potter. He was struggling to his feet, his leg evidently still giving him pain despite the spell. "That was all fine and dandy, but no scrolls." She hoped her casual tone hid the inner turmoil within her. The things that Malfoy had said…perhaps not everything he'd implied had been a lie…
"No scrolls," Harry affirmed, still trying to get to his feet. Diana tried to casually offer her hand to him, and he took it, pulling himself to his feet. She thought that perhaps he held on to her hand for a second more than was necessary. "Something tells me Ron and Hermione beat us to it," Potter commented, releasing her hand.
"Well. Let's find them, then." Diana could make out the shape of yet another door before them, draped in the shadows of the room. "Shall we?"
"After you," Harry said half-heartedly. Diana sucked in a breath and began to walk towards the door, Harry hobbling after her.
"We should probably see if we can find Sirius and Moody while we're at it," Harry said suddenly. "Just…to tell them what happened." Potter glanced back at Malfoy. Diana nodded silently.
The two of them left the room, leaving an unconscious Malfoy behind for better or for worse.
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*Sigh* That was a very fun chapter to write, what with
all the shenanigans and goings-on and people being hurled across rooms. Has
everyone caught snatches of Rowan's vision back in Chapter I-Can't-Remember
yet? Props for those who did.
A note for all HP fanfic authors: there are two characters whose dialogue always seems to end up with a ton of italicized words in it – Hermione and Draco. I think I went through this chapter at least five times trying to un-italicize Draco's lines, and he still seems to stress every other word. Nonetheless, I'm quite pleased with how he came across in this chapter. For a character who was never supposed to originally be in this fic (I decided he should be after watching the CoS DVD because he's hella cool), he made for a great confrontational scene. ^_^
I apologize for the lack of shout-outs, but seeing as I posted the last chapter only like, two days ago, the shout-outs would be pretty scarce and/or repetitive. So I'll try to do shout-outs for the next chapter.
However, due to popular demand, here is the long-awaited return…of the review song! (To the tune of that "Grease Is the Word" song from…you guessed it! Grease.)
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANANANANANANANANANANANA NA NA!
*More musical interlude*
I write these chapters and I see the light,
Just only six more days, so I had better type.
Sure there's a danger that I'll fail my exams,
But I hate studying; so I'll write for this fic's fans.
Review is the word!
Da na na na na!
Just three more chapters and then this fic's done,
Although I may be wrong, might be three chapters plus one.
Hey what is wrong with a nice epilogue?
So I can wrap things up and then…go for a jog?*
Review is the word!
(Review is the word, is the word, that you heard…)
It's got groove, it's got meaning.
(Da…da…da…da…da!)
Review! Now's the time, there's the place, just click go now.
Review to tell me how you're feeling!
Da na na na na!
Review is the word, is the word, that you heard, is the word…
*Nothing good rhymes with epilogue. Except maybe dog. Perhaps the line could've been, "Go look at Sirius, he can turn into a dog!" Hmm…oh well, review! Is the word, is the word, is the word…
