Chapter Twenty One: The Dungeons of Malfoy Manor
"I've got 'im, Crabbe," a larger version of Gregory Goyle called out as he dragged Harry into the room.
The Slytherin common room looked much as it had four years ago with its rough stone walls and green chain-hung lamps. The most noticeable difference being that it was filled with students who were pressed up against the far wall, cowering under the wands of several dark robed, fully grown wizards. Crabbe senior was standing in the center of the room, the sleeve of one arm tied up at the elbow, his remaining arm slung around Draco Malfoy's neck, pulling so tightly it seemed Draco could barely breathe.
"Well, well, well, how good of you to join us, Mr. Potter," Crabbe said. "The master will be ever so pleased. Take his wand, Goyle."
'Ginny' Harry projected his thoughts desperately, 'Slytherin common room…Crabbe and Goyle…help!'
She didn't respond in worded thoughts, but he could sense her anxiety and knew she had heard him.
Unwilling to surrender his wand so easily, Harry flipped it into his hand from where it was tucked in his sleeve and cast a quick, "Stupefy," over his shoulder at Goyle senior. The man holding him slumped to the floor, nearly pulling Harry down with him. Having lost his balance momentarily, Crabbe senior took the opportunity to shove something round and blue-glowing into Draco's hands. Harry, guessing what it was, rushed forward and grabbed hold as well. Harry's suspicion was confirmed when he felt the familiar tug at his navel and was suddenly thrown into the whirling voids of space.
He landed with an "Umph," barely managing to stay on his feet. One look around told him where they were even before Draco announced, "Great, I'm home at last!" in a very sarcastic sounding drawl. The gloom of the Malfoy Manor dungeons was palpable as Harry surveyed the dank walls, the chains that hung from those walls within rusty looking cell bars, and the straw strewn dirt floor.
"It's a veritable palace, Draco," Harry teased, "You should have invited me sooner."
"Right," Draco drawled, "I'll just go tell Mother we have company then. Come on, the stairs are this way, so long as we're not locked in."
"Is there any chance at all that we're not?" Harry asked disbelievingly, and sure enough, the door Draco pulled on remained very firmly shut. Draco's attempted "Alohomora" didn't budge it an inch and Harry's "Bombarda" just bounced off and slammed into an empty cell door behind them, knocking it off its hinges.
"Don't kill us trying to get us out of here, Potter," Draco sneered, but the smirk died on his face as the two Death Eaters, Crabbe and Goyle senior, popped into the room on a second portkey.
"Bloody hell, Goyle, can't you get anything right? How'd those teachers know where to find us?" Crabbe senior complained to his companion.
"It must have been Potter," Goyle said. "He must have contacted someone before coming down."
"What's the matter, you two lose your rubber duckies?" Harry taunted them.
"POTTER!" the two Death Eaters screamed before both lunged stupidly at him. Seeing the perfect opportunity, he cast a stunner that brought them both down with one spell.
"Not bad, but now how do we get out of here?" Draco said.
"It's your house, Malfoy," Harry reminded the other, but then an idea occurred to him. "Where did that portkey go?" Harry looked around on the floor. "If we find it before it expires, maybe it'll take us back to your common room."
"It was just a rock," Malfoy said, "It could be any one of these on the floor here."
They started looking through the rocks scattered around on the floor, hoping to find one with a bluish tinge to it, but to no avail. Frustrated, Harry grasped the bars of a cell to pull himself up off the floor. Just as he was getting to his feet a cold, rough hand suddenly grasped his own. Following the arm that was attached, Harry found himself staring into the paler than usual face of the Potions Master, Severus Snape. The fact that this Snape was behind the bars of a cell was good evidence that this was the real one.
"P..P..Professor," Harry stammered. He'd never seen the man looking quite so forlorn. "Are..are you all right, sir?"
"Oh, I'm just peachy, Potter!" Snape declared sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "The keys are over there," the tall, thin man pointed to a hook on the wall near the door that Draco had been tugging on earlier.
"Right," Harry said. He began to move toward the door when sheer, unfathomable pain seared through his forehead, seeping into his neck and shoulders and down into his finger tips. He gripped his wand tightly and pointed it at the door, knowing without a doubt who was about to come through. "He's here!" Harry cried as his knees gave way beneath him.
Draco scrambled across the floor to where Harry was now kneeling, both hands pressed up against his forehead, barely hanging on to his wand. "Who's here?" he asked in a tone that begged Harry not to say what he knew he would.
"Voldemort is coming," Harry croaked, his voice hoarse as his throat threatened to close. "And he's extremely happy!"
The door swung open with such force it left a crack in the stone wall behind it. Bits of stone and mortar crumbled to the floor as at least a dozen black clad figures rapidly pounded into the dungeon. Behind them, a dark presence emanated into the room even before its owner stepped lightly onto the straw strewn floor, his steel toed boots stopping inches from Harry's knees. From the corner of his eye Harry could see two Death Eaters advancing on Draco. One grabbed Draco's wand and ripped it forcibly from his hand. The other shoved him against the bars of Snape's cell. A ghastly pale, putrid smelling, long fingered hand clasped Harry's chin and dragged it upward until Harry was forced to stand or be choked. Rising to his feet, Harry found himself face to face with his mortal enemy.
"Welcome, Mr. Potter. I have been so very anxious to see you again," Voldemort hissed into Harry's ear. "I apologize for the rather rude manner of my invitation, but, I did of course have some reservations about your willingness to attend the little gathering that I have organized in your honor. Nevertheless, here you are. And finally, the fun can begin. Well done, Draco, your father will be most proud."
Harry snapped his head around to look at Draco. The Slytherin's head rested between two metal bars, the large hand of the Death Eater holding him pressed against his throat. His eyes flashed with fear and anger.
The Dark Lord waved his free arm and two of his followers were instantly at his side. "Bring him," he told the two. "Leave the others here for now."
Harry was hoisted off his feet and carried to the open door. A long narrow stone staircase rose beyond the door, and at the top, they emerged into a tremendous hall, lavishly ornate and sparkling from the bright light of the enormous chandelier overhead. The Death Eaters set Harry on his feet on the polished marble floor and shoved him forward toward a tall wooden door, about twice the height of a normal man. The door was carved with intricate designs and symbols and was as heavily polished as the marble floor, shining with the chandelier's reflected light. The door opened seemingly of its own accord and Harry was thrown into the darkened room beyond.
Voldemort stepped into the room with Harry and pointed his wand at the fireplace at the far end. The fire that had been smoldering there sprang to new life with green flames, casting its eerie light along the walls and furniture. The room was as large and long as the Great Hall of Hogwarts, and far more lavishly decorated. There were several bookshelves hewn from the stone walls which spanned their height from floor to ceiling, with long thin stone planks to hold up the books. Between the rows of books were glass front cabinets filled with numerous trinkets, shrunken heads, potion bottles, amulets, and other odd objects which Harry thought some people at the Ministry would be keen to find out about, at least they would have been, before Percy. The floor was of the same polished marble as the hall outside, flecks of grey, white and pink glistening with the green light of the fire and the white light streaming from the open door behind them.
"Leave us," Voldemort ordered, and the two who had escorted Harry stepped out of the room and closed the door.
"Ah, Harry," Voldemort said, "so predictable. Yes, Draco will make a fine addition to my ranks, most assuredly. And his father will be ever so proud. He has led you right to me, like a moth to the flame."
"Draco swore an oath of loyalty," Harry countered, knowing the mind games his enemy was apt to play. "He's my friend. You cannot convince me that he was faking all of that."
"Ah, yes, the oath of loyalty," Voldemort laughed coldly. "But he holds a life debt from you as well, does he not? He is essentially free of his oath, having fulfilled it by rescuing you. It was ingenious, really, how he lured you into this false security, convinced you to trust him. After all your years of enmity, it could not have been an easy thing to do, but I told him you would forgive. You and that old fool Dumbledore are both the same, far too willing to extend the laurel leaf to anyone who asks for it."
"Draco is my friend," Harry cried, desperation beginning to cling to his thoughts. Had he been a fool? Could this all have been an elaborate hoax, all part of the revenge Draco had sworn he would get? Harry thought back on all the times he'd looked the Slytherin in the eye, searching for the emotions that are so often written there. Had he only imagined that fire of determination, that need to make amends? Or had he merely misinterpreted it? And what about the things he'd said in the Great Hall only yesterday? Draco's words echoed in his mind once again, "He's positively petrified of you! That's why every time he has you cornered he has to toy with you...We will all be there to help you…You already hold the world in your hands, because of your heart!" Harry looked up into the snake-like face of his enemy. The gleaming red eyes, so full of deceit and malice, there was no truth in them.
His mind made up, he asserted his opinion with finality. "He will not betray me. And I will not betray him, either. If there is one thing I know, it's that love is stronger than fear. You cannot make me fear my friends."
"Such a blind fool," Voldemort said as he turned to face the fire, its green light casting a curling shadow of the dark wizard across the glassy floor. The shadow almost seemed to take on a life of its own as it slithered and played across the floor to the whim of the crackling fire. "Servants!"
The same two Death Eaters that had carried Harry into this room returned at Voldemort's call. "Invite our gracious hostess and her son to join Mr. Potter and me!"
The two guards left and returned again a moment later, bringing Narcissa and Draco Malfoy along with them. There did not seem to be any struggle involved. After bowing to the Dark Lord, the guards stepped out of the room again and closed the door. Draco looked forlorn as he cast glances between his mother and his father's master. Harry caught Draco's eye and silently pleaded with him.
"Young Malfoy, how good of you to join us. Mr. Potter here assures me that you are his friend, that you would never betray him," Voldemort said mockingly. Then he added, "But you have served me well, and I am most pleased. Perhaps it is time we let our dear Harry here in on our little secret, shall we?"
Draco looked from Harry to his mother to Voldemort, and then cast his eyes to the floor. The struggle within him showed itself in the slump of his shoulders and the tightening of his fists. He gave Harry a long, pleading, desperate look, and Harry realized then, that Draco's mother's life depended upon how her son answered this question. A fury such as he'd not known before erupted within Harry, a fire that burned of indignation and contempt for the horrible choice he now recognized Voldemort was asking Draco to make. And something else suddenly occurred to Harry as well; no one had taken his wand from him yet. It was still there, clutched in his right hand, just waiting to be used. 'How could Voldemort have made such an error?' he wondered, but without further thought on the matter, he stretched out his wand hand toward Voldemort and cried, "Expelliarmus."
Voldemort was ready for him, as though he had been waiting for this. "Avada Kedavra," he cried, a thrill of triumph flashing across his ashen, lipless face. The green light of Voldemort's spell met the red of Harry's, just as it had before in the graveyard two years previous. The two wands with twin cores connected, the light between them turning to a shimmering gold, a bead of light traveling along the golden thread, gradually making its way toward Harry's wand. An instant too late, Harry knew his enemies mind. His hand seized up around the wand so that he could not let go, and he had no choice but to concentrate his efforts on pushing the bead of light toward his enemy's wand.
"Now, Draco, just as we planned it," Voldemort sneered. "Kill him, and you shall be rewarded beyond measure. All that is your father's will be yours. You shall stand on my right hand, and I will place you above all my other servants. The brethren will bow to you as they do to me, or they will suffer our mutual wrath! Power, wealth, fame, all shall be yours."
Draco stood silently, staring at the arcing ray of light that held Harry's wand in contest with the Dark Lord's. He did nothing, said nothing, and Harry wondered what exactly was going through the other boy's head. Was it true? Had Voldemort been working through Draco all along to bring them both to this moment?
Harry willed himself to believe in Draco. He had trusted him, counted him a friend, played thirteen games of chess, invited him to Grimmauld Place…he had trusted Draco this far, his only hope was to do so again. With all his might he focused on the bead of light, pushing it back toward Voldemort's wand, little by little.
"Kill him, Draco," Voldemort shrieked. "Or you and your mother will die along with him. You know too much. You will not leave this Manor alive unless you do as we have planned all along! Kill him!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco raise his wand, point it directly at himself. Fear overtook him as a sickening smile spread across his enemy's face. The bead of light began to slip closer to Harry's wand.
"I'm sorry Harry," Draco said, his voice strangled and choked with unshed tears.
"No," Harry cried out. "Draco, no…" The bead of light drew nearer Harry's wand, and the wand vibrated uncontrollably, growing hot like an iron rod in the fire.
"I have no choice, Harry. There's no other way," Draco sounded desperate.
"That's right, young Malfoy," Voldemort hissed, thoroughly pleased. "It's time for you to fulfill your destiny and take your place at my side. Do it now, Draco. Think of all the things he's done to you, all the misery, all because of this Harry Potter. He deserves to die!"
Draco raised his wand.
"No Draco, no!"
Draco's lips were moving, an incantation beginning to form. Time seemed to slow as dread, fear, and betrayal took over in Harry's mind. He wondered how he could have been so blind. How could he have let Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, schooled in the Dark Arts since he was old enough to hold a wand, a Slytherin to the core, rich, powerful, and greedy…how could he have let this boy into his inner circle of friends? How could he have trusted him?
The words issued forth, and Harry heard them, but did not register what was said until later.
"Ulterio Dimentia!" Draco cried out, and in a flash, the wand was no longer pointed at Harry but at Voldemort. Taken entirely by surprise, Voldemort wrenched his wand upward and broke the connection to Harry's wand. He pointed it at Draco, the words forming on his lips as Draco's spell hit. Voldemort froze, as if turned to stone, wand out and words half spoken.
"What?" Harry breathed, "What did you do?"
"We have to get out of here," Malfoy said quietly, the edge of guilt still clinging to his voice. Harry stared at the other boy. Malfoy had some serious explaining to do, but this was not the time.
Draco turned to his mother who was staring at the frozen form of Voldemort, a look of absolute terror stretched across her thin face. "Mother, please, forgive me. I couldn't do it. The Dark Lord would enslave us all. I can't join him."
"Draco, what have you done?" Narcissa whispered darkly. "You…you have betrayed the Dark Lord…you have betrayed us all!"
"Mother, please," Draco begged her, "Please, come with us. They'll torture you, kill you, please…"
"You have betrayed me!" Narcissa screeched. "Foul, loathsome, blood traitor! You are no son of mine. If the Dark Lord punishes me for the disgrace that you have become, then so be it. Your father was right; I failed in rearing you! We gave you everything you desired, taught you in the old ways! But you are an unfaithful, treacherous snake! Get out of my house and do not darken my doorstep again! Get out!"
"Mother, no, please…you don't understand…please Mother! They're wrong! They're wrong about everything. My destiny was never with the Dark Lord. You should not be made to suffer for my decision. Please, come with us. Dumbledore will protect you. He will keep you safe from them. Please…"
"I SAID GET OUT!" Narcissa screamed, hair flying from the perfect knot on the back of her head, her well powdered face shining and red. Draco blanched and stepped away from her. He reached out a shaky hand to her as though to beg her one last time, but she turned her back to him.
"You are not my son," she said stoically, all emotion instantly gone from her voice. "I have no son."
A single tear fell from Draco's eye, then wiping it resolutely away, he too steeled his emotions and said flatly, "Let's go, Potter. We're wasting time. We only have an hour from the time the spell is cast until he returns to normal."
Harry looked from Draco to Mrs. Malfoy, worry and puzzlement clouding his thoughts. But Draco was already headed for the door, and Harry knew there was nothing he could do. This was between Draco and his mother, and both had their minds made up.
Draco wrenched the door open and stunned the two guards in a single fluid motion. Harry stepped gingerly over the body of one that had fallen across the threshold to follow Draco into the grand Entrance Hall that they had passed through before. The dazzling light from the chandelier flickered as its thousands of candles danced in the breeze from the open door at the far end of the hall. Draco pointed his wand at that door and cried, "Colloportus." It slammed shut and the breeze was snuffed out.
"All right," he said. "We'll have company soon enough. You can do a decent disillusionment charm, I'm told. Is that true?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. He was shaken and confused by the events that had transpired in the previous room. He had no clue what to think of Draco now. What had Voldemort meant by all of that talk? Had Draco really been planning to kill Harry all this time? Had he only just now chickened out? And yet, here Harry was stuck with no other escape but one that involved trusting Draco one more time.
"Good, do it," Draco said, referring to the charm. "I can do my own. We'll have to sneak out quietly."
"What about Snape?" Harry said, the reality of their predicament returning to him. "Shouldn't we rescue him? He is your Godfather, after all."
"How are we going to do that?" Draco asked incredulously. "He's in the dungeons, surrounded in Death Eaters. We can't go in there!"
"Well, if we can sneak past the guards at the front door, why can't we sneak into the dungeons? We'll ask Snape to make us a portkey and get us out of here from there."
Draco scratched his head as though he was confused. "You do know that he carries the dark mark on his arm, don't you?"
"Yeah, I know all about that. But he's your Godfather, isn't he? And they've got him locked up down there. I really think they mean to kill him."
"Of all the people to risk your neck for, Harry, I wouldn't have thought it would be him," Draco said, shaking his head in disbelief. Harry smiled, wondering how surprised Draco would be to find out about Snape's work as a spy for the Order over the last two years.
"Come on, there's another way into the dungeons over here." Harry followed Draco to a dark corridor which shadowed a narrow archway behind which was a set of small stone steps.
"Cast your disillusionment charm now," Draco whispered. Both boys cast their charms and disappeared into the shadows. The whisper of muffled footsteps could be heard as they descended the thin and winding steps ever so slowly and silently. They stopped at a tiny door, just large enough for the average man to duck through. A key seemed to produce itself from nowhere and it turned in the lock. The door swung open, and slowly, slowly, they peered inside. There were six or so Death Eaters standing near the door that Harry had been dragged through on the way up. He guessed there were probably others stationed on the other side. The keys to the cell doors were still on the hook by the other door. Harry found Draco's shoulder with his hand and pulled him back into the stairway.
"How come we didn't use this door before when we were trying to get out of the dungeons?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
"Because you can't get out from here, only in," Draco replied quietly. "How do you propose we get the keys? These cells are charmed so that they can't be opened by magic."
"We'll have to get Snape to make the portkey first," Harry whispered back. "Then we'll summon the keys at the last minute so they won't have time to stop us."
There was a long pause. Then two rocks seemed to fly off the floor and into the air, hovering waist high. "I have a better idea," Draco said. "We'll make two portkeys, one for him and one for us. That way we don't have to bother with the keys."
"Fine by me," Harry said, "Let's go."
Harry swallowed hard, knowing he was about to encage himself in that dungeon again, but he couldn't very well just leave Snape there to die. He steeled himself against the fear that threatened to turn his feet in the wrong direction and took a step closer to the dungeon entrance. The two boys crept silently into the room, tiptoed across the straw covered floor, and inched their way toward Snape. The professor sat in a corner of his cell, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands.
"Professor Snape," Harry whispered as they drew closer. Snape looked up suddenly, casting around for the source of the whisper.
"Professor," Harry whispered again, "It's me, sir, Harry, and Draco's here too."
Snape crawled over to the bars and slowly stood up, following Harry's whisper. "Where are you?" Snape hissed back.
"We're right here," Draco said quietly. "If you make two portkeys, we can all get out of here. Take my wand and these two rocks." The wand and the rocks seemed to hover in the air where Harry could only assume Draco was holding them up. Snape snatched them from Draco's invisible hand and glanced around the dungeon apprehensively, surveying the wizards who stood guard at the door.
"What are you mutterin' about over there, Snape?" Crabbe senior said, and Snape froze.
"He's got a wand," a female voice shrieked. Harry knew that voice. He sucked in a breath. "Stop him, he'll get away!"
Suddenly a tremendous roar of anger shook the very foundations of Malfoy Manor as though an earthquake were working its way through the estate. In the same instant, a blinding pain erupted from Harry's scar. Harry's knees buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor.
"KILL THEM!" Voldemort's cry filled the air, echoing through the entrance hall above them. "FIND POTTER AND YOUNG MALFOY AND KILL THEM!"
The Death Eaters dashed up the stairs to begin searching the Manor.
"I thought you said we had an hour," Harry chided Draco.
"Yeah, well, he's the Dark Lord, he makes his own rules!" Draco replied.
Bellatrix, her husband and his brother suddenly stepped back into the dungeon.
"I think we've found them already," Bellatrix sneered. "Come out, come out, little Potter!"
She waved her wand and cried out, "Accio Potter!" and pointed her wand in the direction of Snape's cell. Harry found himself beginning to slide across the floor. Bellatrix spotted the shifting straw and cried out, "Finite!"
Harry's disillusionment charm dissolved and he found himself looking up at the heavy lidded eyes of the last woman he ever wanted to see again. He scrambled to his feet and pointed his wand at her.
"Stupefy," he yelled, but she ducked the red ray of light that flew at her. It hit the floor instead, causing the straw to smolder.
"Incarcerous," she returned. Using the reflexes born of his years of Quidditch training, Harry ducked and rolled out of the way of the cords that sought to bind him. The heavy ropes fell to the floor, devoid of prey, and Harry raised his wand again.
"Expelliarmus," he said, aiming carefully. She ducked again, and Harry began to recognize a pattern to her movements.
Snape was trading spells with the Lestrange brothers from within the confines of his cell, throwing up a shield whenever a spell was cast his way. Harry had no idea where Draco was, but He was certain it was only a matter of time before Voldemort and the rest of the Death Eaters heard the commotion in the dungeon and came down. He ducked another curse from Bellatrix and raised his wand again. Expecting her to try to dodge him, he hesitated, aimed at her chest, and then threw himself sideways in anticipation of her next move.
"Stupefy!" he cried. The spell caught her square in the chest and Harry felt a brief swelling of pride at his triumph. But then the pain in his scar suddenly increased tenfold and the pounding of many feet on the narrow stone staircase across the room confirmed that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had figured things out.
Snape managed to stun the Lestrange brothers and summon the keys to him. He unlocked the cell door and stepped out, but in the same moment, the door at the other end of the room flew open and countless Death Eaters ran single file into the dungeon. Voldemort stepped in after them and surveyed the room. With a sweep of his hand he moved the three Lestranges out of his way and then eyed Harry maliciously.
"Did you really think you'd get away from me so easily?" Voldemort hissed. "You and all your friends are going to die!"
'Ginny,' Harry cried out in his thoughts as desperation and terror threatened to seize hold of him. 'Ginny can you hear me?'
Harry? Where are you? What's happened?
'I'm at Malfoy Manor, in the dungeons. We need help. Voldemort's here!'
Hold on, Dumbledore's here now. We'll send him to you.
Voldemort's wand was raised; the words were forming on his lips, "Avada Ked…"
A series of popping sounds announced the arrival of a dozen or more wizards and witches, all wearing the red and gold insignia of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore himself apparated directly between Harry and Voldemort.
"…davra!" Green light flew from Voldemort's wand. Harry leaned around Dumbledore, aimed and cried, "Expelliarmus," but too late. The red light of Harry's spell sailed away toward Voldemort, but it did not connect with the green light of the Killing Curse this time. Time itself seemed to slow down, and Harry watched in horror as the green light struck the headmaster full in the chest. He heard someone scream out, "NO!" And then he realized that it was he who had been screaming. The tall, ever strong, ever valiant wizard suddenly crumpled to the floor like a great old oak felled by the logger's stroke. Harry stared at the open eyes and blank expression of his mentor, his protector, the greatest wizard he had ever known, and his mind would not comprehend it. Every fiber and sinew of his body rejected the notion that Albus Dumbledore was mortal enough to…to…
A great cry of fury erupted from Harry, built of all the feelings he'd ever buried inside of himself. Cedric, Sirius, his parents, Kingsley, and now, even Dumbledore, all had died because of him, because of the prophecy, because of Voldemort! He raised his eyes from the still form of the magnificent wizard at his feet, his great teacher and friend, and locked his gaze with the horrible, triumph filled, blood red eyes of Voldemort. His mind brought forward the image of every loved one, every person who'd ever been dear to him, his friends, his schoolmates, his teachers, the Order, the Weasleys, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Neville, Luna, Ginny…. Ginny! A rage of indignation rose within him like a wave cresting before breaking upon the rocky ledge.
A great white-gold circle of energy instantly sprang up around Harry, surging and powerful, spectacular and brilliant. It pulsed in a rhythmical fashion, thumping in time with the heavy beating of Harry's heart. A beautiful song filled his ears, calling to him, whispering as though to instruct him, the song of the phoenix, Fawkes. He recognized it from the Chamber of Secrets; he remembered it from the graveyard after the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry raised his wand within the great circle of light and spoke, "Afficere Adouren Intrinsicus!" He had no idea where the words had come from, but they felt right falling from his tongue, and the instant he spoke them, the powerful circle of light swelled to include every person in the room who had come to protect him, as well as Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy, whose disillusionment charm melted away as soon as it came into contact with the magical light Harry had produced.
Words flowed into Harry's mind again, and he spoke them aloud, "Portus tout-ham a Hogwarts!" The light spread out across the room, striking Harry's enemies like a giant sword, and they fell all at once, collapsing to the floor in a great heap. In the same instant, Harry felt a tug at his navel as though he had touched a portkey, and he watched as all his protectors began to be lifted from the floor. He grabbed the arm of his fallen headmaster and allowed the sensation of whirling through time and space engulf him.
A split second later he found himself lying face up in the middle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. One glance around confirmed that all the wizards and witches from the Order who had come to his aid had also returned with him. Something was clutched in his left hand and he looked down at the limp arm of the headmaster, encircled about with the words, "I must not tell lies." His gaze followed the arm in his grasp to the shoulder, and then the neck, and finally the expressionless face of Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor," Harry cried out as he got to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. "Professor, please…please…you can't die, you just can't! We need you too much, sir!" He threw his arms around the lifeless wizard and hugged him. "Please," two huge tears fell from Harry's eyes onto the aged man's forehead, but the old wizard didn't flinch, didn't wipe them away. "Please, wake up!" More tears dropped onto Dumbledore's face, and still he didn't move at all.
A great feeling of shock, fear, and shame engulfed Harry as he began to come to grips with what had happened. Dumbledore was dead, dead like Sirius, dead like Harry's parents, dead like Cedric. He was dead because he had put himself deliberately in front of Harry to stop Voldemort's spell. He was dead because Harry had not cast his own spell soon enough to connect the twin wands. He was dead because of Harry, and Harry could no longer hide the misery and the anger and the utter grief that he felt. He sobbed over the lifeless body of his headmaster as every ounce of his pain flowed forth from his own body and filled the room as his cries echoed through the Great Hall. He could feel the stares from the people around him, but he didn't care about them. Dumbledore, the greatest and wisest wizard he had ever known, was dead.
Someone was lifting him up, and someone else was prying his arms off the headmaster's body. He resisted them, but they were stronger. Red hair on the one side, and blonde on the other told him who was leading him, and he let Ron and Draco take him. As the hospital wing drew closer, he groaned weakly, but they ignored him and led him inside. Madame Pomfrey directed them wordlessly with a wave of her arm and a nod of her head, and they sat him on the nearest bed. He swung his legs up without further argument and stared at the familiar domed ceiling without really seeing it. He could only see in his mind the slack, expressionless face of Professor Dumbledore and could only feel the pain of his regret.
The door opened and closed and Harry heard the quick, sharp footsteps of Professor McGonagall. His grief swelled at the prospect of informing his head of house of the outcome of the events at Malfoy Manor.
"Poppy, where is he?" McGonagall asked.
"He's right here, Professor," she responded. McGonagall strode over to Harry's bedside and regarded him worriedly, her lips pressed firmly in a thin line.
"And where is Albus?" she asked, turning back to the resident healer.
"He's in the Great Hall, Professor, but…"
Professor McGonagall ran out of the hospital wing faster than Harry had ever seen her go. He pressed his eyes shut and willed the image of Dumbledore's face to leave him, but to no avail, and moments later he felt the hot, sticky tears streak down the sides of his face and drip into his ears as a second cry of grief filled the castle. Never in six years had he heard Professor McGonagall cry. He had imagined to himself that it was simply something she would never do. But the sound of her voice as she wailed was unmistakeable.
"NO ALBUS, NO" she cried, and her voice ricocheted through the castle corridors. It seemed to reach every ear within Hogwarts as her words evolved into sobs, "No…no…no!"
And more angry, hot tears dropped from Harry's eyes and into his ears and hair.
The infirmary doors flew open again and two pairs of footsteps approached. Long red hair and bushy brown hair came into view and Harry tried to smile for Ginny, but he could not do it. Instead, more tears broke free and he cried, "Ginny, oh Ginny…."
"Harry!" both girls cried, and they threw themselves onto him, both at the same time, surrounding him in their arms.
"He's gone…he's gone…there was nothing I could do…" Harry sobbed.
"Who's gone, Harry?" Hermione asked, straightening herself up.
"Professor Dumbledore," Draco said quietly, and there was a slight quiver to his voice.
"What do you mean, Professor Dumbledore's gone?" Hermione asked, and Harry could hardly blame her for not believing the most obvious answer to that question.
"He's dead," Draco said, and he coughed to hide the grief in his voice. "The headmaster is dead. The Dark Lord killed him."
"No…" Hermione breathed disbelievingly. "No… it can't be…he…he couldn't…he wouldn't…no…."
"It's true!" Harry sobbed into Ginny's shoulder. "He was trying to protect me. He placed himself in the way of Voldemort's curse. He's gone."
"Oh no…no…" Hermione was sobbing quietly into Ron's shoulder now. And Harry distinctly heard Ron sniff and saw the cuff of his sleeve move upward as Ron began to wipe his own tears away.
Ginny was crying freely on Harry's shoulder, having sat in front of him on the infirmary bed. A solemn silence fell over the five students as they allowed their minds to process the horrible truth. Ron and Hermione staggered over to the bed and put their arms around Harry and Ginny. Draco took a step closer and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. And they all cried together for a long time.