A/N - Yay, happy Valentine's Day! To commemorate, let's have a chapter of Las Consecuencias Thanks to my, mm, two fantastic reviewers last chapter.
The story's almost over, I should warn y'all. This is the seventh chapter of nine, and I think I'd like to post chapters eight and nine together whenever those get typed up. So. Yeah. But enjoy the chapter.
-
"Miss Urteil," Voldemort purred, "pleasure to meet you at last." He offered a skeletal hand, and she shrunk back in disgust. "Now, no need to be shy. It's an honor you could be here. First female Minister in how long?"
"A century," she answered proudly.
"My, what an accomplishment..." He reached casually into her pocket, withdrawing a wand. She struggled to pull away, but was held stationary by invisible bones. "It is my belief, however - " he pocketed the wand " - that women like yourself should learn their place in society."
"My place is to govern this country and protect it from monsters like you," she spat, dark eyes glittering.
"Well, you seem to be doing a lamentable job," he said silkily. "Kill her. And then we locate Dumbledore."
"Professor!"
It was the first instance in a week to break the monotony. He had to tell Snape, to go back and warn Dumbledore. Had to. "Professor!"
He threw open the cellar door, taking the steps three at a time. "Dumbledore's in trouble."
Snape looked over his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, he can manage himself. Always has."
"No, you don't understand," Harry insisted. "They have the Minister, they took her wand. They were going to kill her, they probably just did, and now they're going to find Dumbledore!"
Snape wiped his hands on a rag. "Nevertheless you are not allowed back."
"So you're just going to let him die?"
"As I said before, he can handle himself."
"He's outnumbered thirty to one and he doesn't even know about it. I'm leaving." He turned and ran up the steps.
"Potter. I forbid you to go. Dumbledore does as well."
"You can both thank me later," Harry called back, entering the living room and taking a jar off the mantle.
"I swear to god - "
He took a handful of Floo powder. "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts!" His voice drowned out the rest of Snape's threat, and he was gone.
He caught his balance just before he would've fallen in a heap on the hearth. Then a second later, someone shoved him from behind. "Goddammit, move," Snape growled.
"You didn't have to follow me, you know."
"Yes, I did. Headmaster's orders."
"Where is he?" Harry glanced around the room. "Oh my god," he said weakly. "The windows."
"I told you they were being sealed up." He ran a finger around the rectangular outline of the concrete where the windows used to be. "We can discuss this later. At the moment - "
"Ow," Harry gasped, clasping a hand to his throbbing scar.
"Exactly," Snape said grimly, opening a cabinet. "Come here."
"Why?"
"Now is not the time for questions," he said through clenched teeth. He removed a vial, filled with gold sparkles, from a shelf and unscrewed the lid. "I advise you to hold your breath."
"Not until you explain what you're doing."
"Fine, inhale it then, and burn a hole through your lungs." He tilted the vial over Harry while gripping his shoulder. Harry obediently held his breath as gold flakes were shaken from the glass. He felt an icy drop where each touched, and it spread until he was cold all over. He looked at Snape. "Now will you explain?"
"Pixie dust. Complete protection from being sensed, including the ability to walk through doors and the like. It lasts ten minutes at most, so act quickly."
"Me? I don't know what to do."
"You came without a plan. Stunning." Snape took a few small bottles from the shelf and tucked them into a pocket of his robes. "We need to find Dumbledore." He steered Harry toward the door and pushed him right through it.
Harry blinked. "Wow." But he recovered from the shock when he saw a dark figure out of the corner of his eye, and whirled around.
"Dolohov," Snape supplied, following his gaze. "Death Eater."
Harry took his wand out, aimed it, when Snape snatched it from his fingers. "Poor form. And we haven't got time, Mr. Potter." They ran past Dolohov and down the staircase.
Already the scars of battle on Hogwarts were evident: the chandelier in the entrance hall was shattered, and in the Great Hall he could see that the staff table was cracked in two. Snape didn't stop to examine the surroundings, but continued to the staff quarters.
They passed through the door of Dumbledore's room, to find him kneeling on the ground head bowed and hands clasped, murmuring inaudibly. Snape fished out the tiny bottles and handed one to Harry. Pepper-Up Potion, he realized as he downed it. The coldness of the pixie dust was washed away and he knew he was visible again.
"Headmaster," Snape said quietly.
Dumbledore looked up. "Severus, Harry…. I apologize, I did not hear you enter." He pushed himself to his feet. "Why are you here against my wishes?"
"It's my fault," Harry said quickly. "Professor Snape just followed me. But I have to warn you, sir, Voldemort's looking for you. You need to hide."
Dumbledore raised his bushy white eyebrows. "I do believe I'm needed on the grounds with everyone else."
"No," he said emphatically. "You need to hide."
"And where do you suggest?" he asked.
Harry closed his eyes, thinking. Despite its size, Hogwarts didn't have many crannies the Death Eaters wouldn't search. "How about," he said slowly, "the Chamber of Secrets?"
Dumbledore pressed his lips together tightly. "You are sure this isn't ill-advised, Harry?"
"I saw him, Professor. I heard him. He's going to kill you if he finds you."
"Very well. But I still must ask you both not to leave the castle walls. I don't wish to lose either of you."
"Yes, sir."
"Good day to you both." And he vanished.
Harry was left standing at the spot where Dumbledore had stood. "Well, I need to go get something," he told Snape, reaching for the door.
"Your invisibility cloak?" he suggested dryly.
Harry blinked. "You know…?"
"Stupid boy, of course I do." Snape produced the vial of pixie dust from his robes and shook it over Harry. "Never go anywhere in this castle unprotected," he warned.
"Thank you," he muttered as the icy feeling spread along his skin again.
"You're going to find the Dark Lord?"
"Anyone. It doesn't matter." He waited. "You're going to let me?"
"I don't believe in coddling," Snape said shortly. "Now go before it wears off."
And so he did.
-
He was crouched behind a bush, trying hard not to breathe. It was open warfare, madness. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of green light, and a thud. He couldn't breathe.
He gasped for air, leaning back against the wall. His scar burned, and he ran a fingers along it, expecting blood. But his hand came back clean. Then the Dark Mark flashed white-hot and he fainted.
-
"Dumbledore. Of all the places to find you." Voldemort stood in the center of the Chamber, wand gripped tightly.
"Tom. What brings you here?" Dumbledore's wand was at his side, his knuckles white.
"I have quite a history with the place, you must remember." He looked around casually. "It seems like such a convenient location for my Death Eaters; I rather like the idea. And if you are the only obstacle, well." He raised his wand.
"You cannot kill me, Tom."
"Of course I can. Avada Kedavra!"
Dumbledore snapped his fingers and disappeared, and the jet of light hit a column. It crumbled and Dumbledore reappeared atop the rubble. "No, you can't. That is not my fate."
"To hell with fate," Voldemort growled. "Why do you stand there, so calm and confident? Don't you fear me?"
"No." Dumbledore stepped down from the pile. "Nor will I kill you. That's not your fate either."
"This is what separates us, Dumbledore," Voldemort spat. "This is why I am the most powerful, feared wizard in the world, and you," he said with a laugh, "you are a schoolteacher." He circled Dumbledore, twirling his wand through his fingers. "You bow to fate. I change it."
"I hope that more separates us than that."
"No, there essentially isn't." His eyes searched Dumbledore's face for weakness. "Does that scare you?"
"Not in the least. Choice, as I have told you before, distinguish a man beyond all. We have, obviously, made very different choices. And that is why I am nothing like you."
"Noble," Voldemort sneered, circling closer. "Well, if that doesn't scare you, does this?" He pressed his wand to Dumbledore's chest.
"Yes."
"Good." He raked sharp fingernails down Dumbledore's cheek. "Avada Kedavra!"
The light grazed Dumbledore's chest and he fell to the floor, smacking his head on the crude stones.
-
Harry fell to his knees, grabbing the bush's meager branches to keep from falling face-first into the mud. Dumbledore was dead, dead on following his advice. Stupid. He couldn't cry. Wanted to, needed to, couldn't. Goddamn.
He looked up when bits of stone showered him. Death Eaters were aiming curses at the castle walls and the filled-in windows. So they had gotten through. Goddamn everything.
A red flash caught his attention, and he whipped around in time to see Ron crumple after being hit with a Cruciatus. Pettigrew retreated, wheezes interspersed with laughter.
He had to risk it. Ron was lying vulnerable on the blood-stained grass…. His blood? Yes, he was bleeding from the mouth, and there was a gash on his forehead. Maybe, Harry thought with a wry smile, it would leave a scar. He wrapped the invisibility cloak more tightly around himself and dashed to help his friend.
"Ron?" he murmured. "Are you okay?"
His eyes fluttered open, looking around, bewildered. "Harry? Where are you? Oh my god."
"No, you're fine, I've got my cloak." He touched Ron's shoulder to demonstrate. "Can you get up?"
"Ah, yeah." He struggled to his feet and Harry followed him back to the castle.
"It's not safe here," he warned. "Death Eaters."
"There's nowhere else to go," Ron argued. "Out there, in here, what difference does it make?" He pushed his hair back, and stared at his fingers in horror when they came back covered in blood. "Am I alright?"
"Do you feel alright?"
"…No." He descended the stairs carefully, gripping the gnarled wooden banister. "So whose side are you on?" he asked bitterly. "Still have the Mark?"
"I'm not with them anymore," Harry answered evenly.
"And how about Malfoy? Are you still with him?"
Harry blinked. "I don't know. We've both been kind of busy, Ron, if it slipped your notice."
"You still want to be." Accusingly.
"Yes, I do."
"I was hoping you'd come to your sense. Guess not." He strode ahead of Harry angrily.
"Ron, be careful," Harry hissed. "There's probably Death Eaters around."
"I thought we could trust them. They won't hurt you, if you slut around with people like Malfoy."
"Only some of us are like that," a voice in the shadows drawled. The figure stepped forward - Dolohov was grinning broadly. "Of course not all students are outside being killed. Some of them choose to stay indoors as well." He flicked his wand. "Conculco!" His eyes scanned the hallway. "I know there's more. I heard you, child. Where are you?" Crazed blue eyes, Harry couldn't look away, couldn't save Ron. "Avada Kedavra!" He hit a spot two feet left; the wall cracked and stones clattered to the ground. Dolohov growled. "Show yourself and I might let you live."
"Oh, that's persuasive." He scurried backwards after he spoke, avoiding Dolohov's curses.
"Harry Potter, is that you?" he asked, brow furrowed.
Oh, what the hell. "Yes it is. Come find me, Dolohov, bring me back to your master."
"Oh, I will," he snarled. "Cruciatus!"
It hit Harry squarely in the chest, and he bit down to keep from vocalizing the pain. The time spent with Lucius had trained him to stay on his feet, but it still hurt like hell.
"There you are," Dolohov said in a sing-song voice. "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry turned and ran, feeling the step beneath him crumble as the curse hit it. "Avada Kedavra!" Dolohov screeched. "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedav - " He crumpled.
Harry stared in horror. He hadn't done anything, hadn't reflected it. And yet there lay Dolohov, sprawled on the cold stone.
"No, I'm sure he's still quite alive," a familiar voice behind him said, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Dumbledore?" He pulled off his cloak, staring up at the headmaster in confusion. "You…you're not dead. I saw it, Voldemort used the Killing Curse - "
Dumbledore held up a hand. "He missed fractionally, but the impact of the spell still did minor damage. However," a hint of a smile, "I am not dead. Mr. Weasley?" He knelt beside Ron, feeling for a pulse. "What happened?" he asked Harry.
"Dolohov used a heart failure curse, sir. Is he okay?"
"He'll be transported to St. Mungo's immediately. As for Mr. Dolohov, well, I'll take care of him also. You're needed elsewhere."
"On the grounds?"
"Exactly."
"Yes, sir."
"Good luck, Harry." Dumbledore gave him a wistful smile and levitated the bodies past him. Harry pulled the cloak back on, steeled his nerves, and climbed the steps.