What a Strange and Mysterious Thing It Is
Disclaimer All characters and references to Harry Potter mythology are the sole property of the amazing J.K. Rowling. I write for fun only, besides lawyers make me nervous.
Summary: Following the death of Sirius, truths emerge from everywhere. Harry must learn to cope with them and perhaps find what he has been seeking. This story, in keeping with the style of Ms. Rowling, is in Harry's point of view. It is mostly about Harry and Professor McGonagall, but there is a lot of AD/MM as well. It is rated PG-13 for some violence in later chapters. Please read and review! Enjoy!
A/N: Okay, sorry, sorry, sorry to everyone for the ten day wait between updates. I know how frustrating that is when you are really into a story and you are kept on the edge of your seat! I had a really hard time on this chapter. The beginning and end came easily enough, but apparently my inspiration went on vacation in the middle. Hopefully it won't seem too disjointed or anything. I hope you will all feel rewarded with this chapter, though I doubt you will have expected it to end like this. Don't hate me. Again this chapter will have some violence, perhaps graphic at times. I know I said that there would be twelve chapters, but I'm thinking it will probably be thirteen instead. To all of my reviewers; Joelpup62, Liat1989, E.W./H.D.'s Best Friend, DoomGazeHell, PiroKitty, Jen2281, TabbyMin, Silver Lily 77, mugglemin, Lou. McGonagall, Quill of Minerva, and Maxwell Coffee House; thank you so much! You guys give me even more inspiration! Incidentally, Clayre, look for something in chapter twelve I am including just for you! Enjoy chapter eleven everyone.
Chapter Eleven: Borrowed Time
Harry did not open his eyes to peer into the dark wizard's own. It was not the last image he wanted to take with him to eternity. Memories began to surface in Harry's brain in a whirlwind of images. There was Ron levitating a large club in the air. There was Hermione snuggling Crookshanks in an armchair by the fire. There was Oliver Wood strangling him in a sobbing hug after winning the Quidditch Cup. There was Sirius in the train station as a black dog standing on his hindquarters to wish Harry farewell. There was Hagrid telling him he was a wizard. There was Dumbledore standing beside him peering into the Mirror of Erised. There was McGonagall holding his hand telling him he could always talk to her. But mostly it was Ron and Hermione. Seeing their faces. Seeing their smiles and laughter. Yes, that is what he wanted to take with him. It wasn't the pain, it was the laughter. Always the laughter.
Harry knew that Voldemort had retreated from him slightly and Harry closed his eyes all the more tightly when he heard Voldemort's high, sinister voice screech, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light was forcing its way through Harry's closed eyelids. Here was how it would end.
"Protego!" shouted a furious voice.
Harry could feel himself squeezing his eyes tighter still. He waited for the blow to fall, but it never came. Harry cautiously fluttered open his eyelids and peered in the direction of the yell. There was Professor Dumbledore framed in the doorway. His complexion was one of the utmost anger and fatigue. His eyes had large shadows under them and his skin was deathly pale. But even with Dumbledore's weakened appearance he radiated a power that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.
"No!" exclaimed Voldemort, outraged that Dumbledore had deflected the Killing Curse just in time. Death Eaters were scrambling in all directions. It seemed their fear of Dumbledore outweighed their confidence in Voldemort's presence. Voldemort watched the Death Eaters flee with an expression of overwhelming hatred. "Cowards! Filth! Betrayers!" he yelled as his followers disappeared from view.
Professor Dumbledore came rushing into the room to place himself between Harry and the darkest wizard of the age. "Get out of the way Harry!" he yelled fearfully. Harry did not need telling twice though he was afraid for Dumbledore. Harry quickly hurried over to where Professor McGonagall lay on the floor. He worried that any remaining Death Eaters may tread on her in their frenzy to escape Dumbledore's wrath.
Harry turned back toward his headmaster to see the older man intently staring Voldemort down. The two foes remained silent for a few tense moments, each glaring at the other. "So, you feel the need to thwart me once again old man?" Voldemort asked sarcastically at last.
"No, Tom," Professor Dumbledore replied quite calmly. "It is not about you this time."
"Not about me? Ah, I see. You fancy yourself a hero then? Well, what a poor savior you have made," sneered Voldemort. "You have come far too late to save your dear Minerva I'm afraid." Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Professor McGonagall and Harry. They lingered only a fraction of a second before returning to Voldemort.
"She is alive," Dumbledore declared.
"Of course she is," Voldemort said waving his hand dismissively. "Killing her quickly would have been far too easy, and quite frankly, her usefulness was too profound and important for me to dispatch impulsively. She brought you and Potter to me, did she not? Though now she has fulfilled her purpose. I daresay that her fate is of little consequence except for how I may watch you suffer because of it."
"There will be no more suffering on your account, Tom," Dumbledore scolded. "I cannot allow this path to continue."
Voldemort gave Professor Dumbledore an ironic low bow. "Do what you must, you fool," Voldemort leered. "But I think even you know deep down in that pathetic heart of yours that you cannot conquer me." With that Voldemort quickly stood. His hand shot out toward Dumbledore and an eerie blue light erupted from his fingertips. The curse did not strike its target as Dumbledore vanished with a turn of his cloak.
He reappeared moments later behind Voldemort. Harry could tell Dumbledore was trying to draw him away from Neville, Professor McGonagall, and himself. His plan seemed to be working as Voldemort charged the headmaster yelling curses and hexes as he went. Harry watched with dread in his heart as the two powerful wizards battled. The scene was very reminiscent to the one Harry had witnessed in the Ministry of Magic nearly a year ago. Voldemort emitted an almost palpable brutality, while Professor Dumbledore remained as calm as ever. His spells were so soft-spoken that it seemed as though the wizened man was trying to prevent waking a small child.
"When will you learn Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked angrily. "You will have to kill me to be rid of me!"
"I have told you before, Tom," Dumbledore replied deflecting yet another curse, "Killing you would not satisfy me."
Harry knew in his heart what Dumbledore was not admitting. The truth was that Dumbledore could not kill Voldemort. The prophecy had laid out the path to Voldemort's destruction. Unfortunately it was Harry, wandless and unprotected, who was destined to be Voldemort's destroyer. Yet, Harry knew he could not stand idly by for Dumbledore could not hold the dark wizard off for long. Harry scanned the dark and dank room for some kind of weapon, anything that he could use to protect those he loved. When Harry's gaze reached the fireplace that had born him to this situation, he noticed a rusted stand containing several old, dilapidated fireplace tools. Harry quickly rushed to the stand and withdrew an equally rusted poker. It seemed a feeble weapon indeed, but Harry had little alternative.
He raced toward the fray before him raising the poker high above his head. Moments before Harry could strike he felt the unmistakable sensation of a wand poking him in the back. A strong hand seized Harry's wrist and shook the poker loose from his grip.
"Now, now," drawled a voice in his ear. "we cannot have you sneaking up on the Dark Lord now can we?"
"Of course not," sneered a second voice from the shadows. The second figure emerged from the darkness to stand in front of Harry. It was Umbridge looking as mad as ever. "I believe it is time we disposed of Mr. Potter, Lucius," she said in her usual girlish tones.
Malfoy's grip on Harry was intensely strong, and he knew that he had no hope of breaking it. Instead of struggling, Harry relaxed. Umbridge was in his face now, her bulging eyes searching his own with a look of pure lunacy. "Well Potter, that hag on the floor couldn't get the best of me, and neither shall you!" she spat.
"You may kill everyone who has ever stood in your way," Harry responded defiantly, "but you will never get the best of me. You certainly have not gotten the best of Professor McGonagall."
"Oh really?" Umbridge laughed maniacally. "It is not I who is lying in a pool of my own blood. My desire to see your dear professor hurt and broken is nearly complete. Rest assured, Potter, that once you are dead she will follow."
"Our deaths will still not grant you the superiority you think you have," Harry explained boldly. "No matter what you think about yourself, about what wrongs you think have been committed against you, the truth is you folded. You gave in to evil. You have allowed it to enter your heart and fill you up. It was not Professor McGonagall or even Fudge that did that. You are the only one that can take the blame for the failure you have become." Umbridge was trembling with a nearly tangible rage. Harry did not break eye contact with her even when she forcibly grabbed his chin in a vice-like grip. As her fingernails dug deeper into his skin, Harry could not resist one last attempt to infuriate her. "You said Professor McGonagall was hurt and broken, but only in her body. I have no doubt that her spirit is as strong as ever. After all, she never gave in. You will never be better than her."
Umbridge released him roughly. She cast Harry one more malevolent glare. "Lucius," she commanded, "kill him."
"My pleasure," Malfoy drawled in the same manner as Harry had heard in his dream. As Harry glanced imploringly to Dumbledore to help him, he realized that his headmaster, distracted by his battle with Voldemort, had not even realized that Malfoy and Umbridge were still in the room. However, Harry also noticed that since he had ceased his struggle against Malfoy's grasp, the Death Eater had lessened his hold considerably.
Harry kept his eyes on Umbridge. Her disgusting laughter grew louder and louder as what little sanity she had retained ebbed away. Harry could feel Malfoy's wand pushing deeper into his back. Just wait, Harry thought to himself. Hold on, wait until the time is right. A deep intake of breath from the man behind him was Harry's cue to act.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"Lucius Malfoy yelled just as Harry spun away from him and out of his grasp. The crazed laughter had not quite died from her face when the curse struck Umbridge in the chest. Her expression drained of all life and she was dead before she hit the floor.
Harry seized his chance to once again arm himself as Malfoy stared with disbelief at Umbridge's body. Harry retrieved the poker where it lay unceremoniously at Malfoy's feet. With a sharp upswing he struck Malfoy just above the elbow. Malfoy's wand flew away from the pair as Malfoy cried out in pain.
"You little rat!" the Death Eater shouted furiously as Harry coiled back to render another blow. It was ironic that two wizards had been reduced to a physical struggle for their survival. Harry swung the poker once more, but Malfoy ducked it easily, throwing Harry off balance. Harry felt Malfoy's boot make contact with his knee sending him to the dust-laden floor. Like a predator moving in for the kill, Malfoy sprawled upon Harry pinning him to the ground. A familiar numbing sensation began to creep into Harry's arms and legs. Harry's injuries from the quidditch accident were beginning to overtake him, as the effort involved in the struggle was draining the energy from Harry's body. Malfoy was trying to wrestle the poker from Harry's weakening grip while straddling the young man, his knees on either side of Harry's torso. The weight of Malfoy sitting on his chest was pushing the air out his lungs. Finally, unable to control his fingers any longer, Malfoy ripped the poker from Harry's hand and forced it down on his throat. What little air Harry had still been able to take in was robbed of him completely.
Malfoy's normally pale face contorted with anger and grew red with his fury. "I am going to squeeze the life out of you, Potter!" he spat. "You should have taken the Killing Curse!" Harry's vision was growing black and an intense buzzing filled his brain, however, tentative movement flashed out of the corner of Harry's eye.
Before Harry could realize what was happening, Lucius Malfoy was being blasted off of him. The Death Eater flew backwards and struck the wall. He slid down it to settle in an unconscious heap on the floor. Harry's eyes darted to where the curse had originated. Harry knew that Professor Dumbledore was busy trying to keep Voldemort at bay and could not think of who had come to his aid. Harry had to shake his head so his swirling vision could make out who had saved him. His realization forced a gasp to escape his burning lungs.
Standing before him with her wand arm outstretched was Professor McGonagall. She was swaying dangerously upon her unsteady feet, her other arm still hanging grotesquely from its socket. McGonagall's body was trembling uncontrollably now and the wand she had been holding aloft shook lose from her hand. It fell with a clatter to the floor and Harry watched as it traced a path through the dust. Harry's eyes soon traversed upwards once more, however. He stared dumbstruck into her face, but her gaze did not meet his own. She remained transfixed on Malfoy's crumpled form. When she opened her mouth to speak the sound that escaped was hoarse and disheartening, but full of contempt and confidence as well. "Never anger a Scot," McGonagall croaked defiantly.
A sudden cry of pain caused Harry to whirl around to face where he knew Professor Dumbledore and Voldemort were battling. A well-placed curse seemed to have made it past Dumbledore's defenses. A deep gash had appeared on Dumbledore's shoulder and he reflexively clutched it as he fell to his knees. Voldemort seized this opportunity to disappear in a whirl of his cloak. Dumbledore stumbled to his feet and was making his way over to his two students and colleague.
"Albus," McGonagall managed weakly. She was still on her feet but seemed in imminent danger of collapse. Dumbledore was hurrying to her as fast as possible, but something made him abruptly halt. A completely horrified expression dominated his face as he peered at the woman he loved. Harry followed the Headmaster's gaze to see what had so unnerved him. Harry's eyes lit upon a sight that made his own heart fill with fear. Voldemort had reappeared and was standing directly behind Professor McGonagall.
"I WILL NOT BE DENIED MY VENGEANCE!" Voldemort howled frantically. He extended his hand toward McGonagall. "CRUCIO!" he yelled.
McGonagall fell instantly to the ground. Harry made to move forward to help her, but one glare from Voldemort caused his scar to sear with pain. He stumbled backward as though a pair of hands had shoved him and fell. Professor McGonagall convulsed violently upon the dusty floor. Her agonizing screams filled Harry's brain with such a sense of disturbed hopelessness that it threatened to dissolve his sanity. Dumbledore was making no effort to hide his misery now. He raised his wand toward Voldemort preparing to strike, but Voldemort seemed to sense what the wizard was about to do.
"She and I are connected now Dumbledore!" Voldemort screeched. "If you try to kill me, it is she who will die!" At this point Voldemort clenched his hand into a fist. McGonagall's legs drew up further into her body as the pain she was suffering intensified to another level.
"Please," Professor Dumbledore whimpered but kept his wand trained upon his counterpart.. It hurt Harry to see him so distraught and vulnerable. "Please," begged Dumbledore quieter still.
"Her agony can end Dumbledore," Voldemort stated in an uncharacteristically benign sounding tone. "You know what I want." Professor Dumbledore's eyes traveled to McGonagall's body. She was no longer screaming, her body evidently beyond that capability.
"Come now old man," Voldemort prodded. "It is you who is prolonging her suffering. Surrender to me, there is no other way!" Dumbledore once more peered into Voldemort's face. His extended hand relaxed allowing his wand to tumble away. Harry noticed how ancient his professor suddenly looked. The lines of age and sadness dominated his face. Dumbledore had been beaten. A twisted grin pulled at the corners of Voldemort's mouth, "Very good, Headmaster," the dark wizard taunted. Professor McGonagall was no longer rigid as she was lifted from the spell.
Harry's mind was a jumble of images. The pain in his scar had lessened somewhat, but he could not focus. On his hands and knees, Harry crawled across the floor trying to find Professor McGonagall despite his stupor. He was surprised when his hand lit upon something quite unexpected. As Harry's fingers enclosed around the discovery the fog in his brain lifted, strength slowly returned to his body.
"I thank you for your trust in me," Voldemort continued as Dumbledore sank to his knees.
"I beg you," Dumbledore whispered, "do with me what you will, but please, let her pain ease. Do not hurt her anymore."
"Do not fret, I am a man of my word," sneered Voldemort. "I said she would not suffer any longer once you surrendered to me. This you have done, so I will keep my end of the bargain." Professor Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head resignedly. He looked to the ground and only looked up once Voldemort had continued. "She will join you in whatever hell awaits you!"
"NO!" came an enraged voice escaping from Harry's mouth. He leapt to his feet to face Voldemort one last time. "It is not going to end this way!"
"Oh really, Potter?" Voldemort ridiculed surveying the wand Harry had discovered and now aimed at the evil wizard's chest. Voldemort abandoned Professor Dumbledore momentarily and strode arrogantly toward Harry. "You might as well put that away," he said nodding at Harry's wand, "it will not work on me, remember?"
Harry's heart sank. It seemed ages since he had felt the wand in his grasp. Now he had forgotten how useless it had become to him. Voldemort was impervious to any spells his wand cast. Harry lowered his wand slightly and stared at it lost for words.
"A Gryffindor may be brave, but I never found one with much brains," Voldemort laughed. "But if you are feeling insistent Potter, I believe I can accommodate you!" Voldemort's nose was mere inches from Harry's own now. He again held his arms wide confidently. "I will grant you a free shot, Potter. Go ahead! Do what you will, then it is time for this game of cat and mouse to end. Dumbledore only bought you borrowed time, but soon I will claim you as the trophy to my victory!"
If Voldemort had expected Harry to crumble at these words, he was sorely mistaken. Harry had quite the opposite response. The most meager of smiles pulled at Harry's lips. He raised his wand once more and placed it upon Voldemort's chest. Voldemort looked down upon it and grinned menacingly. His eyes flashed contemptuously into Harry's, daring him to proceed.
The smile faded from Harry's lips as he uttered the curse he never thought he would use, "Avada Kedavra." It came out barely a whisper, and Voldemort's smirk remained unchanged. Yet, slowly Voldemort's eyes widened in disbelief.
"This cannot be," he said, his words screaming confusion and bewilderment though his voice remained subdued. Voldemort reached out and grasped the front of Harry's robes, and as the most evil wizard of the age fell, his face warped with a pained expression. The body hit the ground with an unnerving thump. Harry placed a foot lazily underneath Voldemort's prone form and kicked it over to look into the fallen man's face. His eyes were open, but they were clouded and empty.
Harry sighed earnestly. "This is not my wand."
"Minerva?"
Harry spun around. Professor Dumbledore was cradling Professor McGonagall tenderly in his arms. Harry inched slowly toward the pair. Dumbledore's eyes were unable to retrain the emotions that had built in them. His tears were flowing freely and he gently stroked McGonagall's face. First her forehead, then her cheeks, he brushed her hair back.
"Minerva?" Dumbledore called once more. Harry could see her stir at the sound of his voice and respond to his touch. Finally her eyes fluttered open, but they seemed heavy and Harry could tell that she was struggling.
"Albus," she smiled weakly. "I knew you would come.
"I am sorry I did not come to you sooner, my dear," Dumbledore lamented.
"Shhh," Professor McGonagall soothed. She gingerly reached up and traced her thumb over his lips. "You are here now, that is all I need." Harry could feel the lump rising in his throat and it seemed likely to block his airway. For a while, no one said anything. It was as though time was holding onto the moment. Eventually Professor McGonagall's face went slack, her eyes glazed. "I'm tired, Albus," she said softly staring into nothingness.
Dumbledore swallowed hard but then managed a feeble smile. "Rest your head, go to sleep," he said faintly.
"I am afraid to close my eyes, Albus," McGonagall whimpered as her voice broke. "I am afraid that I may never wake up. I am afraid that I may never see your face again."
"I know," the older man whispered softly. "Go to sleep, my love," he repeated.
Harry could feel his own tears dripping from the end of his chin. He stood by helpless as the woman before him seized uncontrollably in Dumbledore's arms. One last great rasping breath escaped her lips before her body went limp in its embrace. Harry sank to the ground as his own sadness and despair consumed him. Dumbledore remained transfixed upon the face of the woman he held. Harry could see Dumbledore's expression slowly cave in to grief. He clutched McGonagall's body all the more tightly to him as he rocked her back and forth. Professor Dumbledore leaned his cheek onto the top of McGonagall's head as a great wail of anguish and torment erupted from his very soul. As if beckoning her to come back to him, Dumbledore threw his eyes upward as his cry rose echoing to the heavens.
"MINERVA!"