Silver Blood
Chapter 24: The Perfect Blood
The earth crumbled slightly from the force of the large beast, creating a gap in the strange blue substance. Regular ground would've crumbled completely beneath the weight and strength of the mighty tyrant, but the place wasn't ordinary. The forest began to heal itself back up, the shimmering blue liquid substance coming together to fill the gap and cover it as if it had never been there.
Harry kept his ground knowing that his broom wouldn't be able to get through the shield of the forest unless there was a break in it, even for a split second. Carefully, Harry side-stepped in the direction of where the Death Eaters were standing. Every time the tyrant moved closer Harry would back away to keep the same distance between them.
Harry took a deep breath and then dashed to the other side of the forest, hoping to catch the tyrant off guard. The tyrant let out a howl and lunged toward him, jaw open and tentacles flying around him. The tyrant did as Harry hoped and crashed into the forest shield surrounding the trees, however, he was trapped by the large beast up against the shield unable to run or dodge any blows. The tyrant's eyes fixated on him as the jaws came rushing toward his face.
The beast was too big and Harry had no where to run. Just as the beast's mouth came crashing toward him, Harry heard a familiar sound and grasped toward it, hoping he wasn't too late. The tyrant's large tooth caught on his pants as he grabbed hold of the broom. His pants ripped near his knee but Harry had gotten away, soaring high on his broom at the speed of light. The tyrant roared as it tried to focus as he was speeding too fast for it to catch, let alone see.
Harry was now floating above the height of the tyrant, a distance away as the other tyrants in the clan screeched loudly. Harry knew he was only biding some time. Sooner or later the tyrant would find a way to get him, so Harry had to find a way to it first.
There has to be something. Magic won't work against it…and I know there's no way to fight it head on, unless there's something, like a weapon, that can destroy it…
A piercing screech broke his thoughts as a tentacle swiped at him. Harry managed to turn away from the blow just barely, but he hadn't expected another tentacle to be waiting for him. Harry screamed as the tentacle slashed his shoulder, blood oozing out of the deep gash, too deep for the healing cloth to do much except ease the pain. Harry flew higher and took out a healing cloth, wrapping it around his arm securely to keep the wound from letting too much blood seep through.
The Death Eaters below were howling with laughter and cheering the tyrant on. Harry had the urge to blast every one of them, but was more focused on the task at hand. The tyrant had its large, sickly gray head turned toward Harry as it opened its jaws wider and let out a howl. The large, sharp teeth were protruding out, reminding him of the time he fought the basilisk.
That's it! The sword! I've got to summon Godric's sword!
The idea struck new confidence in him as he prepared himself. Summoning the sword wasn't the hard part. The hard part was to get past the swiping tentacles and the large tail and hit the tyrant directly in its face. Harry knew it was a long shot, but it was the only thing he had. Harry's eyebrows narrowed in determination as he kneeled forward on the broom, preparing to launch himself straight toward the beast. The tyrant's tentacles swiped at him again, but couldn't quite reach. Harry's eyes focused, watching as the tentacles slid back behind the enormous body as the tyrant opened its mouth to roar…
And that's when Harry dove straight toward it, gripping his wand tightly in his hand. The broom allowed him to easily approach the tyrant too fast for it to retaliate. The Death Eater's cries toward the tyrant to swipe at him and kill him were drowned by the sound of his heart pumping in his ears. As Harry neared the large ugly face of the tyrant, he pointed his wand out in front of him.
"Accio ferrumaro!"
A beam of light erupted from his wand, sending slivers of light all around him as an object protruded in mid air. Harry grasped the sword and sped toward the beast with all his might, easily dodging the flinging tentacles that couldn't quite spot where he was. The sword was lunged straight into the tyrant's eye, black liquid gushing out in the process. The tyrant let out a sharp cry, howling in pain as its tentacles flew this way and that. Death Eaters had to jump back as the tyrant began to stumble.
Harry, though, hadn't anticipated the long tail reaching toward him and slashing at him with a force that propelled him meters away toward the ground. He landed with a sickening thud as the tyrant's high-pitched wail echoed through the forest. The other tyrants joined in with the wailing before fleeing back into the center of the dark, secluded forest, getting ready to choose a new leader for the next time a threat came.
With a tremendous crash the tyrant's body fell limply to the ground, the layer of blue liquid pushed out of the way. Harry heard the crash and felt the tremor in the ground, but he was unable to move right away. He managed to slow the hit down a little before he had actually crashed into the ground, lessening his injuries. His shoulder had flared up with immense pain along with his back that was still throbbing from the earlier gash.
Harry hissed with pain as he tried to lift himself up with his good arm in order to see if his shoulder was all right. The cloth had fallen off and he had no more to put on. It was bleeding freely, though the cloth had managed to stop most of the blood flow, which meant that soon the blood would dry and it would start to heal on its own.
"Get the blood," a cold voice ordered.
Harry glanced behind his shoulder to see Death Eaters running toward the tyrant's body, cautiously, as if afraid it would eat them, and began filling up several vials of blood. Once the blood was bottled, the Death Eaters stepped away from the beast's body.
"It is time," Voldemort's voice rang out. "Bring the boy with us."
Harry felt his weak body being lifted up forcefully as he was half dragged with them. He was lucky to even be alive, but he had the feeling his small victory wouldn't last long. Voldemort walked up front, leading them out of the forest in silence. The Death Eaters followed obediently, Harry somewhere in the middle held by very strong arms. He was too weak to help them so he allowed himself to be half dragged as he lowered his head limply, wondering what Voldemort was going to do with the blood.
It had never occurred to him before, but Harry had no idea what Voldemort was planning. Usually by the time he faced him, Voldemort's intentions would be clear, but Harry had no idea why Voldemort wanted to use the tyrant's blood, nor why he had wanted his Death Eaters to capture Violet.
Perhaps he needed her blood. Maybe she somehow has a tiny amount of tyrant blood in her…or maybe her blood is special like the tyrants. But why would he need blood in the first place?
Harry's head drooped lower as his thoughts began to blur. He was exhausted, weak, hungry and in a lot of pain. His previous encounters with Voldemort hadn't lasted so long. He barely ever would be near him for more than an hour, but all ready it had been more than several hours, not counting his encounter with Melarna those couple times. For the first time, Harry realized that his birthday was the following day, or precisely midnight that night.
What a birthday celebration. Getting trapped into a mind curse surrounded by darkness, then almost getting killed by a demon, and then facing a tyrant…This was definitely not what I was planning for.
The walk seemed like an eternity to him. His whole body was throbbing with pain, especially the deep wound in his shoulder, and the exhaustion was growing. The sound of the Death Eater's footsteps all synchronized together, drown out the fast beating of his heart. He thought he might actually pass out but was rewarded when the Death Eaters finally stopped. Lifting his head weakly, Harry tried to focus on the blurry vision before him. After blinking several times he managed to put together the familiar outline of the building standing before them.
The Ministry of Magic building appeared before him, the aura of it completely transfigured. It was barely seen in the strange darkness, but was illuminated by the light the Death Eaters brought to it with their wands. Voldemort easily approached it and hissed something, allowing the doors to the Ministry to unlock and open for him.
Oh no…Voldemort's been in control of the Ministry building so long he's managed to create a password…in parseltongue! That means that even if Dumbledore finds out Voldemort's hiding out there, he won't be able to enter unless there's enough aurors to break down the shields…This is bad, very bad.
Harry winced slightly as he was dragged forward as the Death Eaters followed Voldemort inside without a word. He could feel his stomach plummet like a bar of lead had been dropped inside. He knew this was it. There was no way he could survive the killing curse for the third time. He had spoken to Dumbledore before about surviving the killing curse a second time. They had discussed it shortly after Harry had gotten out of the hospital wing…
The hallways were deserted, no echoes of hundreds of footsteps rushing to get to class. Winter had ended as the rain brought forth the exotic flowers and life around Hogwarts. The times of hardship, loss and suffering had finally ended, the war of the Dark Lord's wrath finally distinguished. And with the end of Lord Voldemort's reign, and capture of hundreds of Death Eaters, Dementors and wicked creatures of the night working for him, came peace. Students were allowed to spend their time outside the castle walls, basking in the glowing sunlight while studying for their finals.
The only student not enjoying the spring time weather was Harry Potter, conqueror of Lord Voldemort for the second time. He had been in the hospital wing for more than a week since near the end of winter when he had been found barely alive by the Ministry. Finals were only three days away and he had yet to prepare. That day madam Pomprey had finally allowed him to leave the hospital wing, telling him repeatedly to take good care of his health because he was still recovering. She had also told him that Professor Dumbledore wanted to see him in his office the moment he was let out.
Harry walked along in the empty corridors, staring out of the windows at the bright sunlight and fresh sky. It was quite the opposite of what he had felt for so many years, especially that year when he had had to face Voldemort for the showdown. He still couldn't believe he was alive…
He approached the statue of the gargoyle, opening his mouth to say something, but he realized he didn't know the password. Before he could turn back, however, the gargoyle jumped aside and let him pass, as if he had known he was being expected. Harry climbed the large stairway leading to Dumbledore's office, hoping that his news wasn't going to be bad news. He was tired, weak, miserable, and had only thought about going home with Sirius.
Ever since he had met Sirius and been asked to live with him, Harry had been waiting for that day to move in. Now that Voldemort was defeated and Wormtail was in prison, letting Sirius Black off the hook, Sirius could adopt him. In the split second before the killing curse came toward him Harry regretted only not being able to live long enough to be with his Godfather and start anew. And then…he hadn't died. Had the curse missed him? Had something interfered? Or had he survived it again…
Harry hadn't taken the time to figure it out when he was battling Voldemort. He pushed his confused thoughts to the back of his head and steadied himself, preparing to use the most powerful freezing charm he had ever learned, the charm that would make Professor Flitwick proud and cry with tears of joy. Since there was no way Voldemort could die, unless Harry shot the killing curse it was the only way. Harry for one never wanted to have to use the killing curse, and didn't know if he was strong enough either, so he opted for the next way out.
The door opened for him as he approached it and he entered, gazing yet again at the magnificent office of Albus Dumbledore. His office had changed since their last meeting. The wizards that used to be sleeping in the paintings were wide awake and were gawking at Harry as he sat down. Fawkes was perched behind Dumbledore, watching him intently as Dumbledore's fiery gaze locked onto his for the umpteenth time.
A smile broke out on Dumbledore's face, as his eyes held that same twinkling spark Harry knew so well and had come to see less often over the years…until then.
"So, Harry Potter," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again, "you have defeated Lord Voldemort."
Harry tried to smile but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Every year at Hogwarts he had faced Voldemort whether by himself or a servant. And now…it was all over. So where did he go from there? What else awaited him? If his whole destiny had been to destroy Voldemort, and now it had been accomplished, what was he destined to do afterward? Was he even meant to survive?
"Are you not satisfied, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, folding his hands together patiently.
Harry lowered his eyes, "No. I didn't really defeat him professor. I just…froze him. I'm not even sure it'll last."
Dumbledore's smile didn't fade in the least, even through Harry's doubtful words.
"You must have faith in your power. How is it you think Godric Gryffindor became so great? Or any of the wizards and witches of our times," Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows raising slightly in question. At Harry's slight shrug he answered for him, "They believed in themselves. Even if someone is powerful, Harry, like you or Lord Voldemort, if they doubt themselves there's a greater chance they will be overcome."
A moment of silence reigned between them before Harry glanced up at him.
"But, sir, I didn't really believe I would survive when I was fighting Voldemort. I did the best I could, but when I saw the curse coming at me…I gave up," Harry said shamefully, biting his lip to keep from trembling.
The memory was still fresh in his mind and he still needed time to move on from that. Dumbledore stared at him silently before leaning toward him over the desk.
"And you think you gave up, Harry?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose higher.
Harry's eyebrows furrowed together, "Well…yes, I was thinking about death and…"
"And you survived," Dumbledore interrupted. "You survived again, Harry, and do you know why?"
Harry shook his head, hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't speak in riddles this time around.
"You survived because you didn't want to die. You fully believed that life was precious and that you didn't want to give it up. That was believing in yourself," Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "You survived the killing curse yet again because you believed in your power."
Harry's eyes widened immensely as he stared open-mouthed at his mentor, trying to piece together what he said but not fully believing he had heard right.
"I…I couldn't have…," Harry choked.
Dumbledore stared at him seriously, "Lift up your shirt to where you felt that pain in your stomach the moment after you thought the curse had hit you."
Harry stared at him dumbfounded that he had even known what Harry felt even though he wasn't there, and slowly did as he said, lifting up his shirt. There, on the side of his ribs, dipping down onto his hip, was a smaller, yet still noticeably familiar scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.
"But…my mother…"
"Your mother left behind a trace of her in you, which you also believed in. As your flesh and blood, your parents left their mark of love on you, and you cherished that even though you had never met them," Dumbledore said, standing up and folding his hands behind his back. "You think that you aren't more powerful than any wizard, and in a sense that's true. You see, what makes a powerful wizard, like Voldemort, is having confidence in oneself. I dare say my former pupil had too much confidence.
"But you, Harry. You believed in yourself enough to know that Voldemort needed to be stopped, and you refused to die before you were able to help those that suffered. That was what strove you to delve deep into yourself and find your absolute strength and ability…your source of power," Dumbledore continued, smiling at him. "But the reason you survived the killing curse again was because of your love for Sirius."
Fawkes broke the silence with a loud call, fluffing its golden feathers before cocking its head to the side to watch them intently. Harry sat in silence, thinking about what Dumbledore was telling him.
"My…love for Sirius?" Harry whispered. "How can that be?"
Dumbledore seated himself back down and stared at him seriously, though the twinkle in his eye never left, "You have wanted to be with Sirius every since you were thirteen, Harry. The fact that you had a fatherly figure there to protect you, that you didn't have to do everything on your own like the last many years even with your relatives, was a relief to you. You relied on him a lot more than you think you did. And you also cherished that. The love Sirius gave you was even more than the love you cherished with your parents because he was there in the flesh. You wanted to know what it was like to have a family, to live with normal responsibilities instead of saving the world," Dumbledore said, his eyes lighting up from the knowing smile on his face.
"But most of all, you thought that you couldn't leave this earth without saying goodbye to him. Only you didn't notice that the strong feeling of love, much like the love your parents left with you, activated the same charm that saved your life fifteen years previously."
"So…it's really over then? Voldemort won't come back?" Harry said hopefully.
Dumbledore's gaze hardened, and the twinkle faded slightly, "That I cannot say, Harry. For Lord Voldemort can never be completely killed. But you have a chance to start anew and you are certainly not alone. I believe Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have both come a long way. They have grown up with you, fighting alongside you through heart and spirit even though they never fully comprehended what you went through. Now that the world no longer sees a threat, knowing that you truly had the power to rise above all, you can start anew Harry with friends," he paused, "and a family. And now, with the prophecy fulfilled and your last year awaiting you, what do you plan to do?"
Harry looked up at Dumbledore's awaiting gaze, noticing the twinkle had returned once again to full strength. Harry stood up and smiled at him confidently, "I'm going to go home with Sirius."
The past memory faded as Harry was brought back into reality with a large shove. He fell to the floor, catching himself in time. He sat on the cold marble floor, still trying to recover from the last unfortunate obstacle. He looked up to see that they were inside the Ministry, a part of it which Harry had never seen before. He knew he had heard something about a room called "the heart of the Ministry," a place where no one had ventured in over a thousand years.
Could Voldemort have found a way in it? Even so…why would he want this place? And what does he want with the tyrant's blood?
A lot of questions were still unanswered, but Harry was in no position to be demanding answers. At present, his "top" Death Eaters, including Melarna and Wormtail, were helping Voldemort into his red cushioned chair, standing barely fifteen feet away from where Harry was on the floor. The rest of the Death Eaters were bowing behind him in silence. A Death Eater, that Harry recognized as Macnair, was gripping his shoulder tightly to keep him knelt down in place. Luckily it wasn't his injured shoulder.
Voldemort gestured for the Death Eater beside him to hand him the glass of tyrant blood. Once he took it and stared at it almost hungrily, he turned toward all his Death Eaters.
"Finally the time has come to end all those that don't believe in power," Voldemort hissed pleasurably.
The Death Eaters all cheered in agreement. Voldemort's lips curled into a malicious sneer.
"And we are fortunate to have a very special guest joining us for the upcoming finale," Voldemort's sneer widened.
Harry just stared at him bitterly. If he was going to die he wanted to know what Voldemort was planning first. There was no way he was just going to die without knowing the reason why Voldemort had gone through so much trouble.
"It is thanks to our guest that we have this blood," Voldemort said holding up the vial. "Unfortunately for him, his blood will be joining soon enough."
The Death Eaters all howled with laughter, cheering as well. Harry's stomach twisted again with fear and disgust, hoping that Voldemort wouldn't torture him nonstop before finally killing him. He had gone through enough his whole life, and especially that summer. Voldemort's blood-red eyes settled themselves on Harry and stared at him as if the stare would devour him on the spot.
"Perhaps I should just kill you slowly and savor it," he hissed, causing the Death Eaters to snicker, wanting to see the famous Harry Potter squirming on the ground. "Fortunately for you, Potter, I'm running out of time, so I don't have the patience to spend on you. I have waited for this moment forever, but I have also waited for this one chance to come. If you cooperate, I might let you get to see the fate of your precious world you were so willing to protect," Voldemort's eyes narrowed as his lips curled into a more sickening expression.
"And what exactly are you going to accomplish?" Harry asked bravely, partially hoping to use up enough time to prevent Voldemort's plan from taking place.
Voldemort's sneer widened, "You don't know? I thought by now Dumbledore would've told you everything."
Harry bit his lip to keep from saying anything he'd regret at the moment, "Dumbledore wasn't there," Harry said bluntly.
"Ah, so the precious mentor leaves his student to die."
The Death Eaters around him burst into more laughter, causing Harry to feel more enraged by the minute. He was luckily able to hold his composure so that Voldemort couldn't sense anything from him. When the laughter died down, Voldemort was still staring at him with the same pleasurable expression.
"Why did you want that girl's blood?" Harry asked.
Voldemort twirled Harry's wand, in which the Death Eaters had given back to him after they pulled him up from the ground, watching him carefully.
"I suppose our guest wants to know about the brilliant plan. However…I remember that every time I have told you how I made things come about, you've always escaped shortly after. You aren't biding time for your precious Dumbledore to save you, now are you Harry?" Voldemort's lips quirked slightly.
Harry wanted to tell him that he hadn't always escaped with Dumbledore's help, but decided against it. Instead, he wanted to do everything he could to get Voldemort to tell him what was going on.
"I thought you sealed the Ministry so only those that speak parseltongue can enter," Harry retorted.
Voldemort's lips curled, "Trying to get me to explain myself, are you Harry? You are quite foolish to think you can trick me. Perhaps I should just kill you now and spare myself any more of having you escape."
Macnair grabbed his shoulder tighter and forced his head toward the ground so he was staring at it as the Death Eaters all agreed for Voldemort to kill him. Harry breathed deeply, staring at the cold ground and feeling his heart race. He wasn't going to get answers this time around. The Death Eaters were suddenly quietly, which made Harry guess that Voldemort had risen his hand to silence them.
"Then again, since this will be your very last moment, and the most brilliant plan put to action, I shouldn't just let you die without learning a thing a two," Voldemort's cold voice said softly. "And you will die knowing just how brilliant of a person Salazar Slytherin was. It was his idea that I based my plan off of. It was he who tried to summon the ancient power by using sorcerers to his advantage. Back thousands of years ago sorcerers were the ultimate power," Voldemort said standing up from his chair.
"But they became greedy and summoned a power of which they couldn't control. A sorcerer named Muldoon was the only one not corrupted. He had a brilliant mind and a lot of power, but he did a very foolish thing. He gave up all his power in order to stop the chaos the other sorcerers had created. He sealed up the power he used into this very orb with his own blood," Voldemort said.
Harry lifted his head slightly to see Voldemort's fingers brush across an object that resembled a crystal ball, only slightly more crystallized, shimmering even in the dim light. There were crevices in it as well, surrounding the round object, but Harry had no idea what they were for. He watched Voldemort pace as he continued to speak.
"The orb was saved over all these years, but not one sorcerer nor wizard or witch could unlock the secret power. It was too hard to trace back to his time to find where his bloodline ran because there was no doubt he covered his tracks well, hiding any evidence of relatives or family that held parts of his blood. To this day they are still unknown…," Voldemort's eyes turned their attention back on Harry, who was staring up at him while his arms were being held behind his back by Macnair.
"Your little…friend had the power of a Seer, something that could help me figure out where Muldoon's bloodline ran to find someone who had an ancestor of his, or Muldoon himself. However, my trusting Death Eater Melarna has informed that it was you who saved her," Voldemort's eyes bore into his. "But you won't be getting in my way now, Harry. For I didn't need the girl precisely. Tyrants were forced into darkness for all eternity by Muldoon so their leader, the oldest one you managed to defeat, could very well have the blood I desire. Even the slightest sliver of his blood is useful…And now you will watch as I have your precious Dumbledore destroyed first, along with Hogwarts," Voldemort's lips curled into a vicious sneer.
Voldemort approached the orb, uncorking the bottle as the Death Eaters cheered him on. Harry could only watch helplessly, now regretting he had let Voldemort explain his sick plan. The blood oozed out of the vial and dropped onto the orb, getting sucked into the crevices of the sphere. Slowly but surely it began to spread all around the orb and finally stopped spreading, the blood oozing a strange sickly black color. Suddenly, before his eyes the blood disappeared into the orb completely, leaving no trace it had ever been there.
Harry was preparing for something bad to occur, or for something to be unleashed, but instead he was surprised when Voldemort wheeled around and pointed his wand toward the Death Eaters.
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort hissed in parse tongue, his eyes ablaze.
All of the Death Eaters behind Harry screamed in unison, shaking uncontrollably from the curse. Macnair had been untouched, as well as Melarna and Wormtail and a select few who were nearby Voldemort. Once the screaming had died down, Voldemort's eyes cast themselves around the room.
"The blood did not work!" he hissed so they could understand him, his hand crushing the vial into pieces.
The Death Eaters tensed, many still panting from the earlier curse. Harry's stomach started to flutter more violently. Would Voldemort take it out on him? What would happen now? Was the world saved? Harry had lowered his head again so he couldn't meet Voldemort's eyes, but he could hear him pacing by the sound of his long robe brushing across the marble floor.
"We are going to have to find someone to tell us the bloodline!" Voldemort hissed between paces.
"If I may master…"
Harry looked up to see Voldemort had stopped and stared harshly upon Melarna who bowed low and went to kiss the hems on his robes. She waited for his response. Voldemort pointed Harry's wand at her and tilted her head so she could look at him.
"Only if it's worthwhile," he hissed threateningly.
She nodded and bowed her head slightly, unable to do so properly because the wand was holding her chin up.
"Master, it was the boy's fault we weren't able to catch the little girl in the first place. Otherwise we would have all ready had every piece of the puzzle and would be looking for whoever the girl's vision had showed. I was there, my lord, trying to catch the boy before he could cause any trouble once I learned that he was alive. I saw that the girl had been caught by Merrik," she licked her dry lips, pausing, when mentioning the Death Eater that had died painfully in the tyrant's territory. "And then Potter appeared out of thin air and I knew right away he had used a very powerful astral projection charm…I did not stop him but I was able to retrace the symbol and bring him to me. For he is powerless without his wand and still weak from the mind curse you used on him…," she said quietly.
Voldemort's nostrils flared slightly, "And what is your point Melarna?"
"My point is, master, that we should kill the boy and use his blood to summon a dark prophet. I know that it is dangerous to summon one, for they are cruel demons who only work for themselves and it would be hard to strike a deal with them….but I am half demon. I am sure that I can convince it, in fact, I am quite positive. Demons have been forced to live in alternate universes, but I could tell them you'll free them all into the world after your mission is completed. I am positive they would be happy to serve you alongside me and make your dreams come true," she let a small smile show. "It will be faster than trying to take the girl from the safety of Hogwarts and trying to find another Seer. We all ready lost two…"
Voldemort held up his hand to stop her, and then slowly took the wand away. His cold crimson eyes turned and settled on Harry, who tried not to show any fear.
"Yes, that is what we must do. We don't have time to go capturing a child Seer and…," Voldemort's eyes bore down into Harry's, "have them saved by foolish boys."
The Death Eater's laughed behind him, leaving Harry to feel even more vulnerable and fearful about what was to come.
"A Dark Prophet would've never crossed my mind. They were supposedly wiped out…however, so were demons. And because of my mercy upon Melarna she has become our last chance to complete Salazar's dream," Voldemort hissed with pleasure. "So when this is finally accomplished each one of you will have to report to Melarna first from now on about the missions I give to you."
Harry heard Wormtail whimper, getting a cold feeling that Wormtail had just been replaced. The only reason he was still alive was because he had been at Voldemort's side, doing his bidding but not something necessarily with magic, or something dangerous like the other Death Eaters. Now that he was "demoted" to being a normal Death Eater, there was no doubt he'd fail his very first mission and be killed off. Harry didn't feel the least bit sorry for him, although his situation was unfortunate.
Melarna's grin grew in size as she bowed down again. Harry knew her dream had been to get as far up top in the Death Eater rank as possible, he could see it in her eyes. And now she had gotten it…in a way, all because of him.
"And now…," Voldemort hissed, his pleasure heightening. "We first take care of our guest."
The Death Eaters cheered as Macnair pulled Harry up into a standing position, forcing his head up so he had to stare at Voldemort. His hands were still locked securely behind his back so that he couldn't move. Melarna was sneering in his direction, obviously pleased that despite the attempts Harry had made to stop Voldemort, and almost ruining her place as top Death Eater, she had gotten where she wanted and Harry was going to lose everything.
Harry winced as Macnair pulled his hair harshly to keep his head from drooping. The Death Eaters only laughed in the process, trying to suck-up to Voldemort by shouting rude comments to him. Voldemort gestured for Melarna to stand near him and she did so with her head held high. Wormtail was forced back by the other Death Eaters into the large, cheering group, whimpering all the way.
Voldemort's lips only curled into an even more sickly pleasurable sneer that seemed to slice through Harry's insides like a cold blade. Harry could feel the victorious glee growing inside of Voldemort, the twisted satisfaction of finally watching Harry die. Their bond had always been connected through the scar, so Harry could always feel Voldemort's emotions, but he had never before felt such sick…pleasures. The pleasure to watch someone squirm and scream in pain, to watch the blood burst from the veins, to watch all the fears in the victim's eyes confirmed as they died in the most disgusting ways.
Almost instantly, Harry knew there was no way anyone would survive. Every half blood would be killed off in the most cruel ways, minus muggles and muggle born wizards and witches. Harry's immediate thought was Hermione and knowing that even through all her training and intelligence, that she would be defeated by some sly and unfair move on Voldemort's part.
Even as Voldemort rose his wand and pointed it at him, not all the hope was washed away from Harry's mind. He had remembered that Ron and Hermione had practically trained beside him. He even recalled something about Hermione going someplace to get special training, but he didn't know what the special training was for. And Ron too had grown since the first time they had met. Perhaps there was someone stronger than him, someone else to defeat Lord Voldemort. There was always hope, as Dumbledore had taught him. And Harry had felt that for the first time when going to live with Sirius.
"It's a shame you won't live to see my victory, Harry," Voldemort sneered. "It's time to die like you should have fifteen years ago."
"Sixteen," Harry corrected weakly, his voice hoarse from his exhaustion.
Voldemort's sneer widened, "Let him go so that he may die bravely."
Macnair let Harry's arms go and he fell to the floor. Voldemort's eyes never left his face as he pointed the wand toward him, aiming straight for the scar on his forehead, the very source of both of their aggravation. Harry shut his eyes, not wanting to see Voldemort's face, but his head was jerked up by an invisible force and his eyes forced open. Voldemort's expression contorted into pleasure as Harry stared at him, fear clearly in his eyes.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort uttered, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.
Harry couldn't do anything as he was forced to watch the green light burst out of his own wand, heading straight toward him. He couldn't think of anything hopeful…He couldn't even imagine being with Sirius because it felt like forever since he'd seen him. And he didn't have time to dry and delve deep within himself to find the strength to believe in his power…because he was powerless. And because he was powerless, the killing curse inches from his life, darkness would fall and overcome him, taking him to the place his parents were at.
As the curse prepared to hit him, Harry was forced to watch until the very last moment…only instead of watching the green light sweep inside him and kill him instantly, Harry saw the green light turn into a magnificent blinding white light before it suddenly evaporated only centimeters before it had reached his forehead. Harry sat on the floor, with eyes widened, shocked that again he had not been killed.
But…how?
Voldemort let out a sharp hiss of fury, his eyes scanning the Death Eaters for the source of the curse's failure.
"Who dares to interfere with the curse?"
Harry backed up slightly, taken aback by the fury and power that was etched into his words. Voldemort's anger seemed to create an even stronger aura around him, his power heightening to is peak.
"M-master! It wasn't us!" Macnair exclaimed from behind Harry. "T-the orb! It's the orb!"
Voldemort's eyes turned to lock onto the orb behind him. Harry's mouth opened slightly as he saw that it was glowing magnificently. A beautiful shimmering silver light seeped through every crevice of the sphere, making it appear a round blob of sparkling light. And beneath that, Harry could sense a great power lurking just below the surface. Something he had never felt before. It was similar to what he felt the first time he had seen Dumbledore become angry, only it was much stronger than Dumbledore's aura.
The Death Eaters watched captivated by it, as well as Voldemort who lowered the wand. Harry felt his anger dissipate slowly, though not all of it was gone.
"Master, perhaps the tyrant's blood took longer to take effect," Melarna said, trying to reassure him.
The Death Eaters slowly began to cheer again but in victory. Voldemort's face contorted into a sneer again, although not towards Harry.
"Very well, put our guest out of the way until this is complete. I will deal with him later," Voldemort ordered, his anger fully gone and replaced again with pleasure.
Harry was grabbed roughly by Macnair and pulled toward the side, probably to tie him in a corner and force him to watch the world begin to crumble. Just as Harry was thrown harshly to the floor, a strange buzzing sound erupted against the walls of the room. Harry turned to see that it was the orb making the sound. Suddenly, the bright light and aura surrounding it disappeared completely, the orb turning back to its dull dormant state.
All the cheers died down as they stared at the orb in confusion. Macnair, who had been holding Harry, had forgotten about him and was staring at it dumbfounded. Melarna too had her eyebrows furrowed in trying to understand what was going on. Voldemort, however, didn't seem necessarily angry. Harry couldn't tell what the emotion was coming from him, but he had never felt it before. Usually Voldemort was either pleased or angry, nothing else.
"M-master…," Melarna whispered, afraid to speak any louder. "Perhaps if we put more blood on it'll work."
Voldemort didn't respond. Instead he turned around and focused his attention in the direction Harry was.
"Bring the boy here," Voldemort said, the emotion in his voice unreadable.
Macnair did as he was told, dragging Harry to the same spot he was seconds before. Harry had the horrible feeling Voldemort was incredibly angry that the tyrant's blood seemed to work, but then wasn't strong enough. He had no doubt Voldemort would be killing him right then and there without hesitation.
"Let him go," Voldemort said, his tone still unreadable.
Macnair let Harry go, allowing the throbbing his arm to die down slightly. The Death Eaters waited in silence to see what Voldemort was going to do. Harry too wasn't sure he knew what Voldemort was doing. He assumed he was trying to kill him, yet Harry didn't sense any pleasure, victory or rage. The silence reigned in the still room for several more minutes. Harry had partially wished he had been knocked out so he didn't have to experience such a tense silence. Finally, Voldemort took a step sideways and pocketed Harry's wand.
He's not going to kill me?
Harry was very confused by his actions but remained silent, waiting to see what would happen next. Melarna too was staring at Harry surprised as if she was certain Voldemort had wanted to kill him.
"Bring the boy closer," Voldemort finally spoke.
Macnair grabbed Harry's arm, though a little less roughly and began moving him several steps closer to where Voldemort was standing. Harry tensed as he felt the familiar white hot pain tear into his head, as if a hundred knives were drilling into him. Harry's head drooped slightly as he was set down a little more than five feet from Voldemort.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes snapped open. The pain was gone. It had completely disappeared and had been replaced by a strange tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach. Harry lifted his eyes, wondering if Voldemort had moved away. When he looked, Voldemort was in the same spot, staring down at him. Before Harry could even think of what was going on, a tremendous beam erupted around them, lighting up the entire chamber. Harry squinted his eye out of instinct, raising a hand to protect him from the blinding rays.
The light died down in luminosity, though the beam was still there as the orb began to glow with the same aura it had before, only it was shimmering more constantly. Harry was able to watch without squinting, wondering what was going to happen. The orb had been activated again, but how? Harry saw the surprised looks on the Death Eaters' faces as they stared at the object. Harry's attention was drawn away when his shoulder began to feel numb. He was suddenly afraid his circulation had been cut off and immediately turned toward his shoulder. He pulled on his arm to get a better look at the gash, his body turning sideways as he did.
The beam of light was suddenly upon him, blinding him again. Harry blinked from the sudden intrusion and was about to turn to see what had happened when he noticed something peculiar. The beam of light wasn't erupted around the entire room; it seemed to have settled only on him. But his eyes weren't locked onto the beam of light, or the orb that was eliciting unknown powers, the aura of it having become much stronger than he had felt previously. Harry was staring at the spot on his shoulder where the large gash caused from the tyrant was showing, small amounts of blood still dripping freely. The blood itself, coming out of Harry's wound, was shimmering slightly with a tint of silver.
TO BE CONTINUED…