Just in case: read chapter 9 before you read this. FF.net decided that
uploading the new chapter in place of the author's note does not
technically count as an update, so it doesn't show up as recently updated
despite the new material. Sorry to all of you who think I forgot about you,
but I did write some more in the hard copy when I wasn't typing.
Chapter 10
Ron and the rest of the team had rushed towards Harry, cheering wildly over their win when the lightning had struck. The sheer force of the bolt was astounding, and the subsequent concussion wave threw them backwards as if tossed by a grouchy giant to crash into the stadium walls. The lightning had blinded them all, a brief afterimage of Harry etched in their vision by the searing light. Eyes watered and blinked desperately trying to restore normal sight. For several long moments nobody moved, unable to see or to comprehend what they had seen.
As soon as his vision cleared, Ron staggered to his feet, spitting out blood from where his teeth had clicked sharply shut on his tongue as he searched wildly around for his friend. The rain that had started falling again slowly died, and the clouds broke to allow sunlight to pour through. Eyes dazzled once again, this time by sunlight, Ron could make out a dark shape lying on the grass ahead, and he ran towards it, footsteps from the other team members following him.
By the time he reached it, he could see clearly again and stumbled to a halt, stunned and uncertain. He could hear gasps from members of both house teams, as well as screams from the crowd as they piled onto the filed, Hermione in the lead. The professors sprinted as fast as they could to the circle of people around the figure on the grass, and stopped dead in their tracks, gasping for breath.
Harry lay facedown and unmoving, his crimson robes scorched and charred in several places. One hand, still clutching the Snitch lay outstretched, and his Firebolt hovered next to his prone body, seemingly undamaged. Smoke and steam rose from the still body, but aside from that, the scene was too reminiscent of the Third Task, after Harry had escaped from Voldemort and returned with Cedric's body. Ron shook this unpleasant thought away and knelt, rolling his friend over onto his back.
Beneath the mud, Harry's face was pale, actually more of a dead white, and Ron's heart almost stopped when he could not hear him breathing. But he leaned closer to check as he cradled Harry's head in his lap and could faintly catch a slight exhalation of air. Hermione dropped to her knees beside them. "Is he . . . alive?" she asked breathlessly, looking ready to burst into tears at the wrong answer. Ron nodded just as Dumbledore and McGonagall shoved through the crowd to join them.
Harry's head lolled against Ron's knees, and the hair covering his forehead parted to reveal his scar, which was now pulsing with an eerie golden light. Hermione gaped at it, then glanced at the hand she clutched in her own. The tattoo was glowing too and it felt warm, but not burning. After several seconds the glow faded completely.
Suddenly Harry inhaled sharply, the started coughing, a few faint wisps of smoke drifting from his mouth. His eyes blinked open and focused on Ron's worried face, and he grinned weakly. "Hi." Ron stared at him a moment, then burst out yelling, "Gods Harry! You scared the living crap out of me! Don't you ever do that again!" Harry remarked dryly, "I'll try not to make it a regular occurrence." With the help of his friends he sat up and wiped the mud off his face with one sleeve. Dumbledore joined the crowd in a general sigh of relief and inquired "How are you feeling Harry?"
"A little well done, but otherwise fine." Harry turned to his team waiting anxiously behind Ron, smirked a bit and extended his fist towards them. "We won," he stated simply, a twinkle in his eyes. The Weasleys stared at him like he was completely crazy, then chuckled, which set everyone off around them. Harry pressed himself to his feet and all the Gryffindors cheered as he handed the Snitch to Madame Hooch.
The team shook hands with the disappointed Ravenclaws, the final score 320- 110, and Dumbledore brought over the huge Quidditch Cup to hand over to Harry. He lifted it and passed it over to the rest of the team, and they gathered around it cheering ecstatically. The entire school, with the exception of a few Slytherins, congratulated them on the most exciting game many had ever seen or would see.
As they all headed back to the castle celebrating, Professor McGonagall tried to convince Harry to go to the hospital wing to get checked out, but he refused. "I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey would not be happy to see me again. I'm in there too much as it is." The Gryffindors refused to let him out of their sight anyways, so they started a raucous party as soon as they reached the Common Room, trying to make enough noise to annoy the Slytherins all the way down in the dungeons.
Some house elves brought in food, and Fred and George vanished for a while to return with Honeydukes candies and bottles of butterbeer. When the party was in full swing, Harry climbed up on one of the chairs and shouted for attention. "Let's have a toast for the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has seen in years!" Cheers and whistles erupted, and he waved them down after a moment.
"To Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, the three most amazing Chasers who can fly circles around anyone!" Applause and whistles answered this pronouncement. "To Gred and Forge, whose Beater skills are only rivaled by their pranking skills!" Laughs and applause rang as the two pretended to blush while bowing deeply and theatrically. "To Ron, who showed us today that he could rival Wood as a Keeper any day of the week!" Loud cheers and yells as Ron blushed as red as his robes, and Hermione gave him a quick kiss.
Then Alicia leapt up on the chair next to Harry's. "And finally to our very own Captain Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century whose superior flying skills have shown that even lightning storms can't stop him from catching the Snitch!" At this statement, Harry would not have been surprised if the castle walls had shaken apart due to the tremendous volume of noise the House made. He raised his bottle of butterbeer, prompting everyone to follow suit, and together they shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"
The crowd broke up into smaller groups after that, chatting enthusiastically, and Harry found himself mobbed by people congratulating him on his spectacular catch and questioning him about the lightning. He was in the middle of explaining that he could not explain what had happened when Professor McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole and motioned for him to follow her. He struggled his way through the excitable crowd and joined her out in the corridor. "What's this about professor?"
"Dumbledore has called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix and requested that you attend. We have questions that you may have answers to." They walked through the long corridors to the headmaster's office, and she gave the password (Kona Coffee Swirls) and soon Harry found himself in the chamber face to face with the entire Order once again. Apparently they had all attended the match. They stared at him with a mixture of awe, respect, and bemusement so he glanced around at the chamber to try and ignore their probing eyes.
Dumbledore drew his attention with a small cough. "So Harry, what exactly happened out there today?" Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "What did it look like?" Sirius broke in with a frown. "It looked like you should've been fried to a crisp by that bolt, but you're completely unscathed." "Not completely." At their questioning looks, he undid the top few laces on his shirt to reveal a lightning-shaped cut right above his heart, very similar to the famous one on his forehead.
Snape did roll his eyes. "Oh, a little scratch, too bad," he sneered. "Come on Potter, you know as well as I do that you should be dead right now, a little stain on the pitch, or at least in the hospital wing with massive burns. Your hair isn't even singed! Now how did you do it?"
Harry sighed. "I didn't do anything. It happened naturally." Arabella glared at his skeptically. "That's natural?" "It is for an Elemental." This little pronouncement caused an uproar before Dumbledore called them to order. "You're an Elemental?" At the affirmative nod, he continued, "Which one?" "Actually, all of them. Did you notice that the storm cleared right after I was struck? I had unconsciously absorbed the energy form the lightning and directed it to breaking up the storm. That required control over fire, wind, and water."
Harry stood calmly before them as mutters passed around the table. Then Remus asked, a little put out, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" "I did tell you before. You just don't remember." With a wave of his hand Harry removed part of the block on their memories. *Might as well not tip my hand quite yet* he figured. More of the conversation from that night came rushing back to the Order, and Sirius, after absorbing the information again, irritatedly queried, "Why did you tell us if you were going to block our memories?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean to, it was a slight miscalculation on my part. But I decided to keep it that way until circumstances required that you should know."
Dumbledore sighed; it seemed to be habit forming. "Well, that answers several questions. Now, Harry do you know about the foiled Death Eater attacks for the past several months?" Harry nodded. "They began after your return, so we were wondering . . ." "If I had anything to do with them?" It was a statement, not a question. "I know you all have been watching me, following me. Has anyone seen me leave the school grounds in months, or miss a class, or disappear for a little while without someone knowing?"
Everyone had to shake their heads. "But do you know anything about this mysterious Wraith who apparently is behind these attacks?" McGonagall fairly commanded him to tell her something. Harry's face was a blank mask. "So what if I do?" Snape snarled a bit in disgust. "You are being insolent. Tell us who it is if you know." Harry glared back at him. "Why? You can't help them, and revealing their identity will cause more harm than good at this stage."
Dumbledore sighed yet again, this time in defeat. "Very well. But can you at least contact this Wraith? We may have some information that could be useful." "I'll see what I can do," was the neutral response he received. Harry turned to leave, but McGonagall stopped him. "Harry, your powers and knowledge have grown so much. Elemental abilities require a tremendous amount of control. I believe that there is little you can learn here at Hogwarts, and you know it. So why did you come back here?"
"Quidditch," came the glib reply. But at the disbelieving expressions on the faces around him, Harry's blazing green eyes became hooded in dark shadow for a moment. "I have my reasons." With that he left.
Snape shook his greasy head and muttered aloud, "Impertinent powerful little brat." Surprisingly, even Sirius agreed with him.
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Harry stalked down the corridors, thinking furiously while full of energy. The lightning bolt had literally charged him up, and he decided he needed to release some of it with physical action before it tried to escape by magic. That could be disastrous, to say the least. He burst into a run, sprinting so fast the portraits only saw a black blur flash past, heading for one of his secret rooms. He threw open the hidden passage and leapt into the huge room, stripped off his robe and shirt and slapped a hand against a particular stone on the far wall.
Instantly a pulsing drumbeat echoed a fast tempo through the room, and other instruments joined in, the pounding Latin rhythm flowing through his body and giving him focus for his energy. Thank Merlin he had found this music system left behind by Rowena Ravenclaw, and figured out how to add new music to it. The music directed his dance, and he exhilarated in the power and grace, letting loose a joyful laugh.
All too soon for him the music stopped, but he was still so full of energy. He summoned a couple of his favorite swords from his training room and chose a different tune, modifying his movements this time to include sword techniques. He spun and leapt, swinging the blades beneath him, coming within bare centimeters of cutting his feet off. The adrenaline kept surging, amplified by magical energy, and he sped up. As the next song ended, an idea flashed through his brain.
Harry opened his mental connection and called *Eva?* ^Yes? What's up?^ her reply came back instantly. *Is there any way you can join me here? I need a partner.* She laughed delightedly. ^Whoa, you sound a little wired. Be right there.^
A few seconds later a bright flash appeared in the room; it faded to reveal Eva, grinning widely. "You're lucky that I'm nearly as energized as you are. And yes, I did watch your little stunts out on the pitch this afternoon." Harry just grinned to match hers as a swing tune struck up, and he grabbed her hands whirling her into the frantic dance.
After an hour had passed unnoticed, she thought to ask impishly, "So how's the party going up in Gryffindor?" Harry slapped his forehead. "I completely forgot!" "Ooh, the star Seeker ditching out on his own celebration. What a scandal! No worries." With a snap of her fingers Eva conjured the clone and sent it back to the tower with a suitable excuse. Then she turned back to Harry.
"You done dancing?" Nod. "Still high?" Another nod and grin. She smirked. "Good. It's time for the next phase against Voldemort. The search program you developed finally managed to trace the Death Eaters back to his fortress, and the security's a joke. Break in tonight and scout around, snoop in on any conversations, and see what that old snake face is planning next. He's being even more sneaky than usual, so something must be up. Oh, and use a portal for transportation, that's the only mode he can't detect. You try to Apparate in and the alarms'll have you spotted in a second. Don't let yourself be seen. You can mess with their minds later."
Harry summoned his necessary supplies and equipment as she detailed the location and security, and prepared to go. He looked at her sidelong. "If you know this much, why can't you go do this yourself?" She glared at him sternly for a moment. "You know perfectly well. Strictly speaking I'm not allowed to mess with the affairs in your world. The only exception I have is you." He nodded. "One more thing," she clapped his shoulder in a one- armed hug and smiled, "good luck."
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In the middle of a dark corridor in an old castle located in the forests of Albania, a faint shimmer of iridescence flashed once, signaling the use of a transport portal. Too bad nobody was around to see it. Or maybe not. Harry, hidden beneath both his Invisibility cloak and a spell, catfooted his way down the corridor toward a lighted doorway. Harsh voices argued from within, and he paused, listening closely.
"It must be done tonight. MacNair, take anyone you need and lead the raid." "But my lord, why tonight? I would need a few days to plan and set everybody . . ." "No, TONIGHT! Now that that Muggle-loving fool Weasley is Minister he has arranged for the dementors to be removed from Azkaban tomorrow. You must go tonight." "Yes my master." "Oh, and MacNair . . . this is for disagreeing with me. Crucio!"
Screams rang against the stone walls, and Harry winced as his scar burned fiercely. They soon stopped. "Now go and bring back my captured servants." MacNair walked shakily out, and Harry hugged closer to the wall as he and a couple others passed. The cloaked teen was just debating whether to follow or stay when Voldemort spoke again.
"Once the dementors join us, I will be one step closer to defeating our enemies. The rest of you, go and join the raid. You four, stay here in the castle and prepare to receive them. Tonight shall be a fun night!" Footsteps were heard, and Harry remained silent as the Death Eaters paraded by. He was getting ready to leave when he heard Voldemort muttering, and paused to listen once again.
It sounded like an incantation, followed by a whoosh of flames, then an icy coldness so intense it seemed to freeze Harry's insides into Antarctica crept from the room and down the hall. Harry gritted his teeth; he had to see what was happening, so he slunk into the room. He had to physically restrain himself from yelling aloud at what he saw.
Voldemort stood by a bonfire in the center of a large room, a fire of black flames that seemed to suck the light from the room. And in the fire was a head, the most hideous head Harry could never imagine, speaking to the Dark Lord. The chill of sheer evil, raw and powerful, penetrated Harry to the very core, and he shivered uncontrollably as he listened.
"My master, lord of all darkness, tell me. The plans are set in motion and all I need to accomplish your will are the two talismans. But our efforts to find them have been in vain. Please show me where they are hidden, so the ritual can be completed and nothing can stand in our way!" The head spoke in a venomous hiss, "My faithful servant, you will be rewarded for your efforts. I cannot show you where they are- the magic prevents me- but there is something else. I will give you command of my demon armies to use at my bidding. Some know of where one talisman is hidden already. Others can search for the remaining one, the key to the ritual.
However, they cannot touch the talismans themselves. When they are found, you must recover them yourself, and allow no one else to touch them. Only then can their full power be unlocked."
Voldemort bowed. "Thank you my master." He made to leave, but the head called him back. "There is one problem. I have sensed it closing in. Our enemy grows stronger daily." Voldemort growled. "Harry Potter." "He must not find the talismans, or else the light could defeat us. He had hidden the extent of his powers. Remember the prophecy. Only after the talismans are recovered can we destroy the boy."
"I will recover them first, my master. Then it will be my great pleasure to kill him when the time comes." The head appeared pleased. "Now, however, you must go to Azkaban tonight personally to convince the dementors. The idiots you have left need direction, or else they will fail. Go." Voldemort bowed deeply as the head disappeared, and he stalked out the door and followed the route the Death Eaters had taken.
Harry breathed deeply as the chill faded from the air and the black flames died with a hiss. His mind was racing, a million thought competing for his undivided attention, but he knew what he had to do. He conjured up a parchment and quill, scribbled a quick note to the Order while taking care to disguise his handwriting, and transported it to Dumbledore's desk. He also sent his Invisibility cloak back to Hogwarts; it would be unnecessary now.
It was truly impossible to Apparate to Azkaban, even for Harry, and doubtless the Death Eaters would commandeer all the boats to the island. Harry would have to travel by portal again, which took more time since he had to create both gateways and he had never been to Azkaban. But not here. The entire castle reeked of dark magic and that uncanny evil chill. It was beginning to make him sick. Still, he steeled himself and snuck quietly through the castle for another 10 minutes, eavesdropping on the preparations and battle plans, before finally leaving and running into the forest nearby.
Harry contacted Eva and filled her in on the situation. *I don't have enough time to come back to Hogwarts and prepare. It takes too much time to set up the gates, and I want to beat them there. My main problem is the dementors; they still affect me horribly, and my Patronus is rather distinctive. I want to remain unrecognized. Any suggestions?*
^A few. A wandless Patronus can be modified to remain on a person's body like a cloak. It's not nearly as effective usually, it only keeps the worst of the dementor's effects away without physically harming the creature or driving it away. If you do beat them there, try and destroy as many dementors as possible with the regular Patronus. Transport the prisoners to my dimension to be held like we talked about. Oh, and Harry . . . be careful. Something's . . . not right.^
Harry frowned at that, but started working on establishing the portal. Before he could finish, however, he heard a low growl and sensed something through the trees, and he froze, alert and ready. The one shape was quickly joined by another, then another, a few more, until an entire pack circled around him. They were werewolves, dark creatures who had joined with the Dark forces. They paced around, snarling and sniffing, hungry for blood.
Harry swore softly. If he tried to finish the portal here, he could be killed, but if he left he would have to start all over and risk not beating the Death Eaters there. He weighed his chances, quickly counting how many wolves there were and possible escape routes. Before he had quite decided, a large gray wolf suddenly crouched and lunged at him, aiming for his jugular. Harry dodged the snapping jaws and shot a curse at the wolf as it landed, causing it to yelp and dart briefly back into the trees.
A chorus of growls erupted as a least a dozen wolves emerged from the shadows and advanced on him, salivating with a feral gleam in their eyes. Harry could have easily taken them down without breaking a sweat, but that would break his concentration on the portal and causing it to collapse, and ultimately wasting his time. Instead Harry Apparated away, leaving the pack of ravenous werewolves now circling an empty clearing.
Portals work better the closer they are to each other, so Harry chose to appear on a beach in Normandy, France. Why waste energy Apparating to England when Azkaban is equidistant from both coasts? He finally managed to set it up so he could travel to the infamous prison, and stepped through. A heartbeat later he appeared on the steps leading up to the fortress prison. Below him was the dock, empty of boats at the moment and splashed by waves from the storming sea. The air was bitterly cold, the biting wind cutting right through Harry's thick cloak, but it was nowhere near as cold as the very sense of Azkaban, the stench of the dementors thick in the air.
Harry steeled himself and cast his shield Patronus around him, immediately feeling warmer. He then climbed catlike up the slippery steps to the great doors. He could see the guard stationed at the top. He briefly incapacitated him and snuck in, then wiped his memory of the incident. The dementors prowled the corridors, followed by screams and gibbering from the prisoners. Invisible, Harry shot the Patronus charm at close range, destroying three dementors in its initial charge and driving more away.
The first corridor cleared, he began opening cells and transporting the captured Death Eaters away to their new cells in Eva's prison. This corridor seemed to be mainly low level Death Eaters and basic criminals. The Inner Circle members, the ones who would be the most useful to Voldemort, were doubtless deeper in the fortress, under high security. Harry crept deeper into Azkaban, following the dementors' path. He destroyed another five before he sensed that the prison was under attack.
Harry worked faster, not even bothering to open the cells before transporting the captives, then ran down to the next level, shooting his Patronus ahead to dissipate another eight dementors that got in his way. He could hear the voices of the invasion team as they searched the level he had just left, amazed and angry tones echoing as they discovered empty cells. After clearing another level of prisoners, Harry sprinted down the cold and treacherous steps, hoping to at least transport these ones away before the fighting broke out.
Unfortunately, he found over 3 dozen dementors waiting for him in the corridor. Despite his shield he began to feel their effects, and through the muted screaming in his head he could tell that the extra jolt of energy the lightning left was nearly gone. With a wave his staff appeared in his hand; using its greater power, Harry cast another Patronus charm. This time when the stag appeared, it was not silver, nor was it alone.
Three huge animal shapes charged the dementors, all shining a pure molten gold: A stag, a werewolf, and a gigantic dog. Prongs, Moony and Padfoot hit the dark creatures at a run, and they exploded soundlessly into dark wisps of smoke and ash. Harry smiled grimly as he began transferring the prisoners. Before he had gotten more than three cells, however, he heard shouts and footsteps running down the stairs. He shrank against the far wall, thankful he had remained invisible, as several Death Eaters appeared in the hallway.
They cursed to find the first cells empty, but then one opened a door about halfway down. "Hey, there are still some here! Bloody hell, it's Malfoy!" Harry grimaced in defeat as Lucius was freed from his cell; he had hoped that the slippery little maggot was on one of the upper levels and had been taken care of already, but knew that was not very likely.
At that moment Voldemort himself decided to make an appearance, looking twice as ugly yet right at home within the dark stone hall with flickering torches. Harry determined that there was nothing more he could do about the Death Eaters for now, but he could try and finish off the dementors. He levitated himself swiftly and silently down the corridor, past all the Dark idiots and down the stairs. Suddenly he heard Voldemort speaking, calling out to the dark creatures still there, and also sensed the magical summons behind it.
The level Harry currently stood on was simply a large empty room with tall windows overlooking the sea. His wonderings about what the room was for stopped when it began to fill with hooded dementors, seeping in from all directions. As Harry tried to avoid touching them, the Dark Lord appeared and addressed them. "My friends, look at you. Entombed in this miserable prison with nothing more than the slime and dregs to feed on. You are as much prisoners here as those in the cells, and slaves to the Ministry's whim. They are going to remove you from this place in the morning. Why do you put up with it? Join me, and I will give you the means to feed off of the entire world, magic and Muggle alike! Join me and no one can stop us!"
Showing a remarkable talent for timing, shouts and flashes of lights from outside indicated the arrival of the Order of the Phoenix, hopefully with a few Aurors. Voldemort spun, rage contorting his snakelike face. "How in the seven hells did those damned idiots know we were attacking tonight?!" He turned back to the dementors. "What is you decision?" After a moment, the dementors accepted the offer and began to join the battle upstairs, following their Dark Lord. Harry saw his last chance for now and shot off one final Patronus, watching as the three golden figures destroyed at least 2 dozen dementors before they slipped up the stairs.
New screams indicated that the battle was not going well for the Light forces, so Harry dropped his invisibility spell as it was draining too much energy and instead cast his disguising spell to transform him into Wraith, the hunter. His staff channeled and amplified the power, so it was not nearly as exhausting to maintain. Taking a deep breath, he charged back up the stairs, coming up on the Death Eater's flank. The prisoners had already been taken away by Portkey, so now the Dark forces were fighting to keep the Order at bay so they could now escape. Neither side was fighting very effectively due to the presence of the dementors. It seemed the only ones not affected were Voldemort and Harry.
Harry shot several curses in lightning succession at the Death Eaters' backs, then ducked out of sight as a couple came his direction. He popped back out and began casting spells in every direction as the Death Eaters woke to the fact that they were being attacked on two fronts. He dodged the green light of the Killing Curse, and watched helplessly as a Ministry worker was too slow to do the same. Several shouts of "Expecto Patronum!" suddenly rang out, and a multitude of silver objects began to drive the dementors away.
At a command from Voldemort to "Join the others on the mainland!" the dark creatures all turned and jumped out the window. Harry, hoping that they would be smashed against the cliff side or the wave torn rocks below, was briefly startled to see the dementors gliding over the rough seas like ducks on a glassy pond. Luckily, there were only about 100 left now that Harry and the Order had gotten to them.
Despite Harry's participation, the Light forces were driven back up two levels and were holding the last corridor before the exit, where the Portkeys could be activated. Many Death Eaters had been incapacitated, but the Order had some casualties too, with two dead and many injured. Harry had stopped fighting momentarily, trying to sneak in closer to where he could do the most damage.
Thinking quickly, he transformed into a spider and scuttled closer, occasionally using his venomous fangs on a distracted Death Eater, and had nearly reached Voldemort when abruptly two hideous figures appeared at his side. Demons. They bowed and spoke, ignoring the battle raging around them, "My lord, your first talisman is here, in the bowels of this prison. We will show you." "Excellent. Lead the way."
Desperate, knowing demons could Apparate at will anywhere, Harry attached a line of silk to Voldemort's robe and was transported with him. He clung there, hitching an unsuspecting ride as the foul creatures stalked their way deeper and deeper underground, below sea level. This area was once the high security area, but somehow the preservation and guard enchantments had worn off, and environmental conditions began to take their toll quickly, sea water flooding some areas. Instead of emptying the prison so they could be fixed, former Minister Fudge had moved all the prisoners to the upper levels, reasoning that placement was unimportant as the dementors were the best form of security. *Yeah, and the greatest liability* Harry thought sourly.
Finally the demons halted beside an ancient door buried deep beneath the prison, in an area no living creature had seen in centuries. Voldemort hesitated for a brief instant, then yanked open the door and stalked inside. He paused inside, and as the door shut with a resounding bang, Harry jumped off and transformed unnoticed back into human form. Only then did he notice what had captured his enemy's attention so thoroughly.
Hovering in a blood red light in the center of a cavernous room was a pitch- black sphere that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. As they watched, two pits appeared in the otherwise flawless surface, and two rings, like eyes of purple and silver lightning bolts glared balefully back at them. The thing seemed alive with a burning presence, neither good nor evil but waiting, waiting for someone to direct it and claim it. Voldemort finally stepped forward, long pale hand outstretched to claim his prize. Harry tapped him calmly on the shoulder, and when he turned, confused, Harry punched him in the face.
Voldemort stumbled back, blood streaming from his flat nose, and Harry followed through with a sharp kick to the gut, folding him over. Then the teen leapt for the talisman. But Voldemort screamed with rage and pain and snatched Harry's ankle, dragging him to the floor. He landed hard on his chest and Voldemort kicked him in the back of the head, stars erupting before his eyes. Shaking it off, he hooked the Dark Lord's ankle as he passed and dumped him on the floor, then straddled him with both hands around his thin neck, squeezing.
Voldemort's dead-white face began to turn a very unique shade of purple before he managed to wrench a hand from underneath Harry's steel-like leg lock and cast a wandless Burning curse straight at his face. Harry shouted in pain and shock as one side of his face seemed to melt under the intense heat, and Voldemort shoved him off before trying to curse him again. This time Harry avoided it and returned with a curse of his own, melding the flesh of Voldemort's legs together in a way that was more painful yet effective than the Leg-Locker curse. Now it was the Dark Lord's turn to scream.
The two foes continued like this for some time, wrestling and exchanging curses. Both looked rather worse for wear, with blood, bruises and curses clinging to them, yet tried desperately to overpower the other and claim the talisman. They were grappling on the floor, Harry on top, when suddenly Voldemort's hand dipped into his robes and pulled out a wicked-looking knife. With a flash like a striking snake, he plunged it up to the hilt in Harry's side, just between a couple of lower ribs.
The world seemed to go white for a second, then Harry collapsed on the floor, gasping for air as warm sticky blood ran between his clutching fingers and pooled on the stone. He heard Voldemort limping toward the red glow, but could not find the energy to stop him, and could only watch as the pale hands reached out and pulled the black orb free. Voldemort grinned maliciously as he walked over to where Harry lay.
"You fought well, young warrior, but you lost the war. I have this talisman, and you have a poisoned blade in your side. Don't worry, it works fairly quickly, if very painfully. It's a pity we will never know your true identity, but c'et la vie." With a final high, cold laugh, Voldemort limped triumphantly to the door.
Harry was not willing to give up yet; his stubborn Gryffindor side refused to let him. Summoning his rapidly departing strength, he transformed into a gnat and flew to the door, landing on Voldemort's back, just as the door slammed shut again. The demons, sensing urgency, Apparated the Dark Lord and his stowaway right back to the entrance, where the remaining Death Eaters held both the Order off and an escape Portkey for their master. Harry jumped off before they could be transported away, and he transformed back into his human self unseen as Voldemort and the Death Eaters disappeared with the first talisman.
Harry crumpled to the floor, knife embedded in his ribs and sending waves of fire through his battered body. Running footsteps resounded strangely in his ears, followed by a confused babble of sounds as people surrounded him, and Harry distantly noticed that he was still disguised. Good. He felt someone grab his shoulders and cradle him gently, lifting him off the cold stones. He focused his gaze on the person, and gasped out, "Knife . . . poisoned," a blurry glimpse of Sirius' concerned face registering before his eyes rolled back in his head and his senses fled with his consciousness.
Chapter 10
Ron and the rest of the team had rushed towards Harry, cheering wildly over their win when the lightning had struck. The sheer force of the bolt was astounding, and the subsequent concussion wave threw them backwards as if tossed by a grouchy giant to crash into the stadium walls. The lightning had blinded them all, a brief afterimage of Harry etched in their vision by the searing light. Eyes watered and blinked desperately trying to restore normal sight. For several long moments nobody moved, unable to see or to comprehend what they had seen.
As soon as his vision cleared, Ron staggered to his feet, spitting out blood from where his teeth had clicked sharply shut on his tongue as he searched wildly around for his friend. The rain that had started falling again slowly died, and the clouds broke to allow sunlight to pour through. Eyes dazzled once again, this time by sunlight, Ron could make out a dark shape lying on the grass ahead, and he ran towards it, footsteps from the other team members following him.
By the time he reached it, he could see clearly again and stumbled to a halt, stunned and uncertain. He could hear gasps from members of both house teams, as well as screams from the crowd as they piled onto the filed, Hermione in the lead. The professors sprinted as fast as they could to the circle of people around the figure on the grass, and stopped dead in their tracks, gasping for breath.
Harry lay facedown and unmoving, his crimson robes scorched and charred in several places. One hand, still clutching the Snitch lay outstretched, and his Firebolt hovered next to his prone body, seemingly undamaged. Smoke and steam rose from the still body, but aside from that, the scene was too reminiscent of the Third Task, after Harry had escaped from Voldemort and returned with Cedric's body. Ron shook this unpleasant thought away and knelt, rolling his friend over onto his back.
Beneath the mud, Harry's face was pale, actually more of a dead white, and Ron's heart almost stopped when he could not hear him breathing. But he leaned closer to check as he cradled Harry's head in his lap and could faintly catch a slight exhalation of air. Hermione dropped to her knees beside them. "Is he . . . alive?" she asked breathlessly, looking ready to burst into tears at the wrong answer. Ron nodded just as Dumbledore and McGonagall shoved through the crowd to join them.
Harry's head lolled against Ron's knees, and the hair covering his forehead parted to reveal his scar, which was now pulsing with an eerie golden light. Hermione gaped at it, then glanced at the hand she clutched in her own. The tattoo was glowing too and it felt warm, but not burning. After several seconds the glow faded completely.
Suddenly Harry inhaled sharply, the started coughing, a few faint wisps of smoke drifting from his mouth. His eyes blinked open and focused on Ron's worried face, and he grinned weakly. "Hi." Ron stared at him a moment, then burst out yelling, "Gods Harry! You scared the living crap out of me! Don't you ever do that again!" Harry remarked dryly, "I'll try not to make it a regular occurrence." With the help of his friends he sat up and wiped the mud off his face with one sleeve. Dumbledore joined the crowd in a general sigh of relief and inquired "How are you feeling Harry?"
"A little well done, but otherwise fine." Harry turned to his team waiting anxiously behind Ron, smirked a bit and extended his fist towards them. "We won," he stated simply, a twinkle in his eyes. The Weasleys stared at him like he was completely crazy, then chuckled, which set everyone off around them. Harry pressed himself to his feet and all the Gryffindors cheered as he handed the Snitch to Madame Hooch.
The team shook hands with the disappointed Ravenclaws, the final score 320- 110, and Dumbledore brought over the huge Quidditch Cup to hand over to Harry. He lifted it and passed it over to the rest of the team, and they gathered around it cheering ecstatically. The entire school, with the exception of a few Slytherins, congratulated them on the most exciting game many had ever seen or would see.
As they all headed back to the castle celebrating, Professor McGonagall tried to convince Harry to go to the hospital wing to get checked out, but he refused. "I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey would not be happy to see me again. I'm in there too much as it is." The Gryffindors refused to let him out of their sight anyways, so they started a raucous party as soon as they reached the Common Room, trying to make enough noise to annoy the Slytherins all the way down in the dungeons.
Some house elves brought in food, and Fred and George vanished for a while to return with Honeydukes candies and bottles of butterbeer. When the party was in full swing, Harry climbed up on one of the chairs and shouted for attention. "Let's have a toast for the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has seen in years!" Cheers and whistles erupted, and he waved them down after a moment.
"To Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, the three most amazing Chasers who can fly circles around anyone!" Applause and whistles answered this pronouncement. "To Gred and Forge, whose Beater skills are only rivaled by their pranking skills!" Laughs and applause rang as the two pretended to blush while bowing deeply and theatrically. "To Ron, who showed us today that he could rival Wood as a Keeper any day of the week!" Loud cheers and yells as Ron blushed as red as his robes, and Hermione gave him a quick kiss.
Then Alicia leapt up on the chair next to Harry's. "And finally to our very own Captain Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century whose superior flying skills have shown that even lightning storms can't stop him from catching the Snitch!" At this statement, Harry would not have been surprised if the castle walls had shaken apart due to the tremendous volume of noise the House made. He raised his bottle of butterbeer, prompting everyone to follow suit, and together they shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"
The crowd broke up into smaller groups after that, chatting enthusiastically, and Harry found himself mobbed by people congratulating him on his spectacular catch and questioning him about the lightning. He was in the middle of explaining that he could not explain what had happened when Professor McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole and motioned for him to follow her. He struggled his way through the excitable crowd and joined her out in the corridor. "What's this about professor?"
"Dumbledore has called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix and requested that you attend. We have questions that you may have answers to." They walked through the long corridors to the headmaster's office, and she gave the password (Kona Coffee Swirls) and soon Harry found himself in the chamber face to face with the entire Order once again. Apparently they had all attended the match. They stared at him with a mixture of awe, respect, and bemusement so he glanced around at the chamber to try and ignore their probing eyes.
Dumbledore drew his attention with a small cough. "So Harry, what exactly happened out there today?" Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "What did it look like?" Sirius broke in with a frown. "It looked like you should've been fried to a crisp by that bolt, but you're completely unscathed." "Not completely." At their questioning looks, he undid the top few laces on his shirt to reveal a lightning-shaped cut right above his heart, very similar to the famous one on his forehead.
Snape did roll his eyes. "Oh, a little scratch, too bad," he sneered. "Come on Potter, you know as well as I do that you should be dead right now, a little stain on the pitch, or at least in the hospital wing with massive burns. Your hair isn't even singed! Now how did you do it?"
Harry sighed. "I didn't do anything. It happened naturally." Arabella glared at his skeptically. "That's natural?" "It is for an Elemental." This little pronouncement caused an uproar before Dumbledore called them to order. "You're an Elemental?" At the affirmative nod, he continued, "Which one?" "Actually, all of them. Did you notice that the storm cleared right after I was struck? I had unconsciously absorbed the energy form the lightning and directed it to breaking up the storm. That required control over fire, wind, and water."
Harry stood calmly before them as mutters passed around the table. Then Remus asked, a little put out, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" "I did tell you before. You just don't remember." With a wave of his hand Harry removed part of the block on their memories. *Might as well not tip my hand quite yet* he figured. More of the conversation from that night came rushing back to the Order, and Sirius, after absorbing the information again, irritatedly queried, "Why did you tell us if you were going to block our memories?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean to, it was a slight miscalculation on my part. But I decided to keep it that way until circumstances required that you should know."
Dumbledore sighed; it seemed to be habit forming. "Well, that answers several questions. Now, Harry do you know about the foiled Death Eater attacks for the past several months?" Harry nodded. "They began after your return, so we were wondering . . ." "If I had anything to do with them?" It was a statement, not a question. "I know you all have been watching me, following me. Has anyone seen me leave the school grounds in months, or miss a class, or disappear for a little while without someone knowing?"
Everyone had to shake their heads. "But do you know anything about this mysterious Wraith who apparently is behind these attacks?" McGonagall fairly commanded him to tell her something. Harry's face was a blank mask. "So what if I do?" Snape snarled a bit in disgust. "You are being insolent. Tell us who it is if you know." Harry glared back at him. "Why? You can't help them, and revealing their identity will cause more harm than good at this stage."
Dumbledore sighed yet again, this time in defeat. "Very well. But can you at least contact this Wraith? We may have some information that could be useful." "I'll see what I can do," was the neutral response he received. Harry turned to leave, but McGonagall stopped him. "Harry, your powers and knowledge have grown so much. Elemental abilities require a tremendous amount of control. I believe that there is little you can learn here at Hogwarts, and you know it. So why did you come back here?"
"Quidditch," came the glib reply. But at the disbelieving expressions on the faces around him, Harry's blazing green eyes became hooded in dark shadow for a moment. "I have my reasons." With that he left.
Snape shook his greasy head and muttered aloud, "Impertinent powerful little brat." Surprisingly, even Sirius agreed with him.
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Harry stalked down the corridors, thinking furiously while full of energy. The lightning bolt had literally charged him up, and he decided he needed to release some of it with physical action before it tried to escape by magic. That could be disastrous, to say the least. He burst into a run, sprinting so fast the portraits only saw a black blur flash past, heading for one of his secret rooms. He threw open the hidden passage and leapt into the huge room, stripped off his robe and shirt and slapped a hand against a particular stone on the far wall.
Instantly a pulsing drumbeat echoed a fast tempo through the room, and other instruments joined in, the pounding Latin rhythm flowing through his body and giving him focus for his energy. Thank Merlin he had found this music system left behind by Rowena Ravenclaw, and figured out how to add new music to it. The music directed his dance, and he exhilarated in the power and grace, letting loose a joyful laugh.
All too soon for him the music stopped, but he was still so full of energy. He summoned a couple of his favorite swords from his training room and chose a different tune, modifying his movements this time to include sword techniques. He spun and leapt, swinging the blades beneath him, coming within bare centimeters of cutting his feet off. The adrenaline kept surging, amplified by magical energy, and he sped up. As the next song ended, an idea flashed through his brain.
Harry opened his mental connection and called *Eva?* ^Yes? What's up?^ her reply came back instantly. *Is there any way you can join me here? I need a partner.* She laughed delightedly. ^Whoa, you sound a little wired. Be right there.^
A few seconds later a bright flash appeared in the room; it faded to reveal Eva, grinning widely. "You're lucky that I'm nearly as energized as you are. And yes, I did watch your little stunts out on the pitch this afternoon." Harry just grinned to match hers as a swing tune struck up, and he grabbed her hands whirling her into the frantic dance.
After an hour had passed unnoticed, she thought to ask impishly, "So how's the party going up in Gryffindor?" Harry slapped his forehead. "I completely forgot!" "Ooh, the star Seeker ditching out on his own celebration. What a scandal! No worries." With a snap of her fingers Eva conjured the clone and sent it back to the tower with a suitable excuse. Then she turned back to Harry.
"You done dancing?" Nod. "Still high?" Another nod and grin. She smirked. "Good. It's time for the next phase against Voldemort. The search program you developed finally managed to trace the Death Eaters back to his fortress, and the security's a joke. Break in tonight and scout around, snoop in on any conversations, and see what that old snake face is planning next. He's being even more sneaky than usual, so something must be up. Oh, and use a portal for transportation, that's the only mode he can't detect. You try to Apparate in and the alarms'll have you spotted in a second. Don't let yourself be seen. You can mess with their minds later."
Harry summoned his necessary supplies and equipment as she detailed the location and security, and prepared to go. He looked at her sidelong. "If you know this much, why can't you go do this yourself?" She glared at him sternly for a moment. "You know perfectly well. Strictly speaking I'm not allowed to mess with the affairs in your world. The only exception I have is you." He nodded. "One more thing," she clapped his shoulder in a one- armed hug and smiled, "good luck."
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In the middle of a dark corridor in an old castle located in the forests of Albania, a faint shimmer of iridescence flashed once, signaling the use of a transport portal. Too bad nobody was around to see it. Or maybe not. Harry, hidden beneath both his Invisibility cloak and a spell, catfooted his way down the corridor toward a lighted doorway. Harsh voices argued from within, and he paused, listening closely.
"It must be done tonight. MacNair, take anyone you need and lead the raid." "But my lord, why tonight? I would need a few days to plan and set everybody . . ." "No, TONIGHT! Now that that Muggle-loving fool Weasley is Minister he has arranged for the dementors to be removed from Azkaban tomorrow. You must go tonight." "Yes my master." "Oh, and MacNair . . . this is for disagreeing with me. Crucio!"
Screams rang against the stone walls, and Harry winced as his scar burned fiercely. They soon stopped. "Now go and bring back my captured servants." MacNair walked shakily out, and Harry hugged closer to the wall as he and a couple others passed. The cloaked teen was just debating whether to follow or stay when Voldemort spoke again.
"Once the dementors join us, I will be one step closer to defeating our enemies. The rest of you, go and join the raid. You four, stay here in the castle and prepare to receive them. Tonight shall be a fun night!" Footsteps were heard, and Harry remained silent as the Death Eaters paraded by. He was getting ready to leave when he heard Voldemort muttering, and paused to listen once again.
It sounded like an incantation, followed by a whoosh of flames, then an icy coldness so intense it seemed to freeze Harry's insides into Antarctica crept from the room and down the hall. Harry gritted his teeth; he had to see what was happening, so he slunk into the room. He had to physically restrain himself from yelling aloud at what he saw.
Voldemort stood by a bonfire in the center of a large room, a fire of black flames that seemed to suck the light from the room. And in the fire was a head, the most hideous head Harry could never imagine, speaking to the Dark Lord. The chill of sheer evil, raw and powerful, penetrated Harry to the very core, and he shivered uncontrollably as he listened.
"My master, lord of all darkness, tell me. The plans are set in motion and all I need to accomplish your will are the two talismans. But our efforts to find them have been in vain. Please show me where they are hidden, so the ritual can be completed and nothing can stand in our way!" The head spoke in a venomous hiss, "My faithful servant, you will be rewarded for your efforts. I cannot show you where they are- the magic prevents me- but there is something else. I will give you command of my demon armies to use at my bidding. Some know of where one talisman is hidden already. Others can search for the remaining one, the key to the ritual.
However, they cannot touch the talismans themselves. When they are found, you must recover them yourself, and allow no one else to touch them. Only then can their full power be unlocked."
Voldemort bowed. "Thank you my master." He made to leave, but the head called him back. "There is one problem. I have sensed it closing in. Our enemy grows stronger daily." Voldemort growled. "Harry Potter." "He must not find the talismans, or else the light could defeat us. He had hidden the extent of his powers. Remember the prophecy. Only after the talismans are recovered can we destroy the boy."
"I will recover them first, my master. Then it will be my great pleasure to kill him when the time comes." The head appeared pleased. "Now, however, you must go to Azkaban tonight personally to convince the dementors. The idiots you have left need direction, or else they will fail. Go." Voldemort bowed deeply as the head disappeared, and he stalked out the door and followed the route the Death Eaters had taken.
Harry breathed deeply as the chill faded from the air and the black flames died with a hiss. His mind was racing, a million thought competing for his undivided attention, but he knew what he had to do. He conjured up a parchment and quill, scribbled a quick note to the Order while taking care to disguise his handwriting, and transported it to Dumbledore's desk. He also sent his Invisibility cloak back to Hogwarts; it would be unnecessary now.
It was truly impossible to Apparate to Azkaban, even for Harry, and doubtless the Death Eaters would commandeer all the boats to the island. Harry would have to travel by portal again, which took more time since he had to create both gateways and he had never been to Azkaban. But not here. The entire castle reeked of dark magic and that uncanny evil chill. It was beginning to make him sick. Still, he steeled himself and snuck quietly through the castle for another 10 minutes, eavesdropping on the preparations and battle plans, before finally leaving and running into the forest nearby.
Harry contacted Eva and filled her in on the situation. *I don't have enough time to come back to Hogwarts and prepare. It takes too much time to set up the gates, and I want to beat them there. My main problem is the dementors; they still affect me horribly, and my Patronus is rather distinctive. I want to remain unrecognized. Any suggestions?*
^A few. A wandless Patronus can be modified to remain on a person's body like a cloak. It's not nearly as effective usually, it only keeps the worst of the dementor's effects away without physically harming the creature or driving it away. If you do beat them there, try and destroy as many dementors as possible with the regular Patronus. Transport the prisoners to my dimension to be held like we talked about. Oh, and Harry . . . be careful. Something's . . . not right.^
Harry frowned at that, but started working on establishing the portal. Before he could finish, however, he heard a low growl and sensed something through the trees, and he froze, alert and ready. The one shape was quickly joined by another, then another, a few more, until an entire pack circled around him. They were werewolves, dark creatures who had joined with the Dark forces. They paced around, snarling and sniffing, hungry for blood.
Harry swore softly. If he tried to finish the portal here, he could be killed, but if he left he would have to start all over and risk not beating the Death Eaters there. He weighed his chances, quickly counting how many wolves there were and possible escape routes. Before he had quite decided, a large gray wolf suddenly crouched and lunged at him, aiming for his jugular. Harry dodged the snapping jaws and shot a curse at the wolf as it landed, causing it to yelp and dart briefly back into the trees.
A chorus of growls erupted as a least a dozen wolves emerged from the shadows and advanced on him, salivating with a feral gleam in their eyes. Harry could have easily taken them down without breaking a sweat, but that would break his concentration on the portal and causing it to collapse, and ultimately wasting his time. Instead Harry Apparated away, leaving the pack of ravenous werewolves now circling an empty clearing.
Portals work better the closer they are to each other, so Harry chose to appear on a beach in Normandy, France. Why waste energy Apparating to England when Azkaban is equidistant from both coasts? He finally managed to set it up so he could travel to the infamous prison, and stepped through. A heartbeat later he appeared on the steps leading up to the fortress prison. Below him was the dock, empty of boats at the moment and splashed by waves from the storming sea. The air was bitterly cold, the biting wind cutting right through Harry's thick cloak, but it was nowhere near as cold as the very sense of Azkaban, the stench of the dementors thick in the air.
Harry steeled himself and cast his shield Patronus around him, immediately feeling warmer. He then climbed catlike up the slippery steps to the great doors. He could see the guard stationed at the top. He briefly incapacitated him and snuck in, then wiped his memory of the incident. The dementors prowled the corridors, followed by screams and gibbering from the prisoners. Invisible, Harry shot the Patronus charm at close range, destroying three dementors in its initial charge and driving more away.
The first corridor cleared, he began opening cells and transporting the captured Death Eaters away to their new cells in Eva's prison. This corridor seemed to be mainly low level Death Eaters and basic criminals. The Inner Circle members, the ones who would be the most useful to Voldemort, were doubtless deeper in the fortress, under high security. Harry crept deeper into Azkaban, following the dementors' path. He destroyed another five before he sensed that the prison was under attack.
Harry worked faster, not even bothering to open the cells before transporting the captives, then ran down to the next level, shooting his Patronus ahead to dissipate another eight dementors that got in his way. He could hear the voices of the invasion team as they searched the level he had just left, amazed and angry tones echoing as they discovered empty cells. After clearing another level of prisoners, Harry sprinted down the cold and treacherous steps, hoping to at least transport these ones away before the fighting broke out.
Unfortunately, he found over 3 dozen dementors waiting for him in the corridor. Despite his shield he began to feel their effects, and through the muted screaming in his head he could tell that the extra jolt of energy the lightning left was nearly gone. With a wave his staff appeared in his hand; using its greater power, Harry cast another Patronus charm. This time when the stag appeared, it was not silver, nor was it alone.
Three huge animal shapes charged the dementors, all shining a pure molten gold: A stag, a werewolf, and a gigantic dog. Prongs, Moony and Padfoot hit the dark creatures at a run, and they exploded soundlessly into dark wisps of smoke and ash. Harry smiled grimly as he began transferring the prisoners. Before he had gotten more than three cells, however, he heard shouts and footsteps running down the stairs. He shrank against the far wall, thankful he had remained invisible, as several Death Eaters appeared in the hallway.
They cursed to find the first cells empty, but then one opened a door about halfway down. "Hey, there are still some here! Bloody hell, it's Malfoy!" Harry grimaced in defeat as Lucius was freed from his cell; he had hoped that the slippery little maggot was on one of the upper levels and had been taken care of already, but knew that was not very likely.
At that moment Voldemort himself decided to make an appearance, looking twice as ugly yet right at home within the dark stone hall with flickering torches. Harry determined that there was nothing more he could do about the Death Eaters for now, but he could try and finish off the dementors. He levitated himself swiftly and silently down the corridor, past all the Dark idiots and down the stairs. Suddenly he heard Voldemort speaking, calling out to the dark creatures still there, and also sensed the magical summons behind it.
The level Harry currently stood on was simply a large empty room with tall windows overlooking the sea. His wonderings about what the room was for stopped when it began to fill with hooded dementors, seeping in from all directions. As Harry tried to avoid touching them, the Dark Lord appeared and addressed them. "My friends, look at you. Entombed in this miserable prison with nothing more than the slime and dregs to feed on. You are as much prisoners here as those in the cells, and slaves to the Ministry's whim. They are going to remove you from this place in the morning. Why do you put up with it? Join me, and I will give you the means to feed off of the entire world, magic and Muggle alike! Join me and no one can stop us!"
Showing a remarkable talent for timing, shouts and flashes of lights from outside indicated the arrival of the Order of the Phoenix, hopefully with a few Aurors. Voldemort spun, rage contorting his snakelike face. "How in the seven hells did those damned idiots know we were attacking tonight?!" He turned back to the dementors. "What is you decision?" After a moment, the dementors accepted the offer and began to join the battle upstairs, following their Dark Lord. Harry saw his last chance for now and shot off one final Patronus, watching as the three golden figures destroyed at least 2 dozen dementors before they slipped up the stairs.
New screams indicated that the battle was not going well for the Light forces, so Harry dropped his invisibility spell as it was draining too much energy and instead cast his disguising spell to transform him into Wraith, the hunter. His staff channeled and amplified the power, so it was not nearly as exhausting to maintain. Taking a deep breath, he charged back up the stairs, coming up on the Death Eater's flank. The prisoners had already been taken away by Portkey, so now the Dark forces were fighting to keep the Order at bay so they could now escape. Neither side was fighting very effectively due to the presence of the dementors. It seemed the only ones not affected were Voldemort and Harry.
Harry shot several curses in lightning succession at the Death Eaters' backs, then ducked out of sight as a couple came his direction. He popped back out and began casting spells in every direction as the Death Eaters woke to the fact that they were being attacked on two fronts. He dodged the green light of the Killing Curse, and watched helplessly as a Ministry worker was too slow to do the same. Several shouts of "Expecto Patronum!" suddenly rang out, and a multitude of silver objects began to drive the dementors away.
At a command from Voldemort to "Join the others on the mainland!" the dark creatures all turned and jumped out the window. Harry, hoping that they would be smashed against the cliff side or the wave torn rocks below, was briefly startled to see the dementors gliding over the rough seas like ducks on a glassy pond. Luckily, there were only about 100 left now that Harry and the Order had gotten to them.
Despite Harry's participation, the Light forces were driven back up two levels and were holding the last corridor before the exit, where the Portkeys could be activated. Many Death Eaters had been incapacitated, but the Order had some casualties too, with two dead and many injured. Harry had stopped fighting momentarily, trying to sneak in closer to where he could do the most damage.
Thinking quickly, he transformed into a spider and scuttled closer, occasionally using his venomous fangs on a distracted Death Eater, and had nearly reached Voldemort when abruptly two hideous figures appeared at his side. Demons. They bowed and spoke, ignoring the battle raging around them, "My lord, your first talisman is here, in the bowels of this prison. We will show you." "Excellent. Lead the way."
Desperate, knowing demons could Apparate at will anywhere, Harry attached a line of silk to Voldemort's robe and was transported with him. He clung there, hitching an unsuspecting ride as the foul creatures stalked their way deeper and deeper underground, below sea level. This area was once the high security area, but somehow the preservation and guard enchantments had worn off, and environmental conditions began to take their toll quickly, sea water flooding some areas. Instead of emptying the prison so they could be fixed, former Minister Fudge had moved all the prisoners to the upper levels, reasoning that placement was unimportant as the dementors were the best form of security. *Yeah, and the greatest liability* Harry thought sourly.
Finally the demons halted beside an ancient door buried deep beneath the prison, in an area no living creature had seen in centuries. Voldemort hesitated for a brief instant, then yanked open the door and stalked inside. He paused inside, and as the door shut with a resounding bang, Harry jumped off and transformed unnoticed back into human form. Only then did he notice what had captured his enemy's attention so thoroughly.
Hovering in a blood red light in the center of a cavernous room was a pitch- black sphere that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. As they watched, two pits appeared in the otherwise flawless surface, and two rings, like eyes of purple and silver lightning bolts glared balefully back at them. The thing seemed alive with a burning presence, neither good nor evil but waiting, waiting for someone to direct it and claim it. Voldemort finally stepped forward, long pale hand outstretched to claim his prize. Harry tapped him calmly on the shoulder, and when he turned, confused, Harry punched him in the face.
Voldemort stumbled back, blood streaming from his flat nose, and Harry followed through with a sharp kick to the gut, folding him over. Then the teen leapt for the talisman. But Voldemort screamed with rage and pain and snatched Harry's ankle, dragging him to the floor. He landed hard on his chest and Voldemort kicked him in the back of the head, stars erupting before his eyes. Shaking it off, he hooked the Dark Lord's ankle as he passed and dumped him on the floor, then straddled him with both hands around his thin neck, squeezing.
Voldemort's dead-white face began to turn a very unique shade of purple before he managed to wrench a hand from underneath Harry's steel-like leg lock and cast a wandless Burning curse straight at his face. Harry shouted in pain and shock as one side of his face seemed to melt under the intense heat, and Voldemort shoved him off before trying to curse him again. This time Harry avoided it and returned with a curse of his own, melding the flesh of Voldemort's legs together in a way that was more painful yet effective than the Leg-Locker curse. Now it was the Dark Lord's turn to scream.
The two foes continued like this for some time, wrestling and exchanging curses. Both looked rather worse for wear, with blood, bruises and curses clinging to them, yet tried desperately to overpower the other and claim the talisman. They were grappling on the floor, Harry on top, when suddenly Voldemort's hand dipped into his robes and pulled out a wicked-looking knife. With a flash like a striking snake, he plunged it up to the hilt in Harry's side, just between a couple of lower ribs.
The world seemed to go white for a second, then Harry collapsed on the floor, gasping for air as warm sticky blood ran between his clutching fingers and pooled on the stone. He heard Voldemort limping toward the red glow, but could not find the energy to stop him, and could only watch as the pale hands reached out and pulled the black orb free. Voldemort grinned maliciously as he walked over to where Harry lay.
"You fought well, young warrior, but you lost the war. I have this talisman, and you have a poisoned blade in your side. Don't worry, it works fairly quickly, if very painfully. It's a pity we will never know your true identity, but c'et la vie." With a final high, cold laugh, Voldemort limped triumphantly to the door.
Harry was not willing to give up yet; his stubborn Gryffindor side refused to let him. Summoning his rapidly departing strength, he transformed into a gnat and flew to the door, landing on Voldemort's back, just as the door slammed shut again. The demons, sensing urgency, Apparated the Dark Lord and his stowaway right back to the entrance, where the remaining Death Eaters held both the Order off and an escape Portkey for their master. Harry jumped off before they could be transported away, and he transformed back into his human self unseen as Voldemort and the Death Eaters disappeared with the first talisman.
Harry crumpled to the floor, knife embedded in his ribs and sending waves of fire through his battered body. Running footsteps resounded strangely in his ears, followed by a confused babble of sounds as people surrounded him, and Harry distantly noticed that he was still disguised. Good. He felt someone grab his shoulders and cradle him gently, lifting him off the cold stones. He focused his gaze on the person, and gasped out, "Knife . . . poisoned," a blurry glimpse of Sirius' concerned face registering before his eyes rolled back in his head and his senses fled with his consciousness.