CH18: Pretty Soon They'll Come To Get Me
~"Oh well, you only live once."
"He's not going to kill you, Harry," Dumbledore pointed out.
"That's where you're wrong." He turned to look Dumbledore straight in the eyes. "If I ever join Voldemort, willingly or not, Harry Potter will be dead." He gave a feeble smile as he step towards the emerald flames. "See ya, Professor. If I can."
"Wait, Harry." He turned back to the old wizard. "Call me Albus."
Harry nodded. "Rictorman's Pub, Godric's Hollow!"~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry spun through the fire, landing on the cold stone floor of the pub. Two pairs of arms hauled him up.
"Our Lord has you pegged well, Potter," said the Death Eater on the right. Harry recognized the voice - Walden Macnair. "He knew you would come."
"Where is he?" asked Harry quietly.
"This way."
They stepped out of the pub and Harry got his first look at Godric's Hollow ...... that he could remember anyway.
It was a fairly large town. Shops lined the street reminding him distinctly of Hogsmeade. In the distant, he could see forests, hills, and a mountain range. A large mansion sat on top of a near-bye hill and Harry was struck by the familiarity of it.
But, all to soon, the Death Eaters turned a corner .....
..... and Harry was hit with a wave of icy air. Dementors.
They were everywhere. Harry could see them patrolling the borders of the Hollow, obviously enjoying being on the loose. The townsfolk were bound in the middle of a clearing - it looked like a courtyard in the center of town. They were shivering from the effects of the Dementors, but were still far enough away to not be fully effected. Yet.
In front of the corrugation, Voldemort was sitting proudly on a high backed chair, smirking at the scene.
Macnair prodded him forward.
As soon as the Dark Lord spotted Harry, he broke in to a grin that looked very out of place on his snake-like face.
"Harry! I've been expecting you." A few of the prisoners craned their necks to see who arrived and their eyes widened as they recognized Harry.
"So sure I'd come?"
Voldemort smiled indulgently. "When will you learn. I told you - I know you."
"Really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, then who am I?"
"You're you. A slightly cynical, 15 year old wizard who has been through too much in his life."
"And whose fault was that?" he asked sardonically.
"Ah, I didn't call you here to fight. And I'm sure you didn't come for that either." He conjured up another chair. "Come sit." Harry complied. "Now have you though over my offer?"
"I have."
"And?"
"I thought you knew me. Shouldn't you already know the answer?"
"Yes, but I want to hear you say it."
"It seems like a fair trade," said Harry softly.
Voldemort laughed in glee. "Wonderful, my boy."
Harry swallowed hard. He was disgusted with himself. "So they're free to go?" he asked, motioning to the hostages.
"I won't kill them."
But Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer. "If I join you - " The onlookers gasped, dawning appearing on their faces - he was sacrificing himself. " - then you have to promise me something."
"Anything," Voldemort relied immediately.
"Let them go. Don't harm a hair on their heads. Nothing."
"You don't trust me, Harry?"
"Promise me," he said again.
"Fine, fine," sighed Voldemort. "They won't be hurt."
"And you'll give up this town?"
"Harry - " He stopped at the determined look on the boy's face. "I'll give it back."
"Good."
Voldemort just chuckled. "I just can't say no to you, my Harry."
And Harry grimaced. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
"Well, we must be going," the Dark Lord said briskly. He pulled out a small red orb. "As soon as you touch this, you'll be transported to Headquarters. It's time to join our world."
Harry hesitated in reaching out his hand. There was no going back from this, nothing would be the same again. But as he scanned the crowd, his eyes locked with a small, nine year old girl, tears streaking down her face. And he knew what he had to do.
He clasped the orb and disappeared.
~"Oh well, you only live once."
"He's not going to kill you, Harry," Dumbledore pointed out.
"That's where you're wrong." He turned to look Dumbledore straight in the eyes. "If I ever join Voldemort, willingly or not, Harry Potter will be dead." He gave a feeble smile as he step towards the emerald flames. "See ya, Professor. If I can."
"Wait, Harry." He turned back to the old wizard. "Call me Albus."
Harry nodded. "Rictorman's Pub, Godric's Hollow!"~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry spun through the fire, landing on the cold stone floor of the pub. Two pairs of arms hauled him up.
"Our Lord has you pegged well, Potter," said the Death Eater on the right. Harry recognized the voice - Walden Macnair. "He knew you would come."
"Where is he?" asked Harry quietly.
"This way."
They stepped out of the pub and Harry got his first look at Godric's Hollow ...... that he could remember anyway.
It was a fairly large town. Shops lined the street reminding him distinctly of Hogsmeade. In the distant, he could see forests, hills, and a mountain range. A large mansion sat on top of a near-bye hill and Harry was struck by the familiarity of it.
But, all to soon, the Death Eaters turned a corner .....
..... and Harry was hit with a wave of icy air. Dementors.
They were everywhere. Harry could see them patrolling the borders of the Hollow, obviously enjoying being on the loose. The townsfolk were bound in the middle of a clearing - it looked like a courtyard in the center of town. They were shivering from the effects of the Dementors, but were still far enough away to not be fully effected. Yet.
In front of the corrugation, Voldemort was sitting proudly on a high backed chair, smirking at the scene.
Macnair prodded him forward.
As soon as the Dark Lord spotted Harry, he broke in to a grin that looked very out of place on his snake-like face.
"Harry! I've been expecting you." A few of the prisoners craned their necks to see who arrived and their eyes widened as they recognized Harry.
"So sure I'd come?"
Voldemort smiled indulgently. "When will you learn. I told you - I know you."
"Really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, then who am I?"
"You're you. A slightly cynical, 15 year old wizard who has been through too much in his life."
"And whose fault was that?" he asked sardonically.
"Ah, I didn't call you here to fight. And I'm sure you didn't come for that either." He conjured up another chair. "Come sit." Harry complied. "Now have you though over my offer?"
"I have."
"And?"
"I thought you knew me. Shouldn't you already know the answer?"
"Yes, but I want to hear you say it."
"It seems like a fair trade," said Harry softly.
Voldemort laughed in glee. "Wonderful, my boy."
Harry swallowed hard. He was disgusted with himself. "So they're free to go?" he asked, motioning to the hostages.
"I won't kill them."
But Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer. "If I join you - " The onlookers gasped, dawning appearing on their faces - he was sacrificing himself. " - then you have to promise me something."
"Anything," Voldemort relied immediately.
"Let them go. Don't harm a hair on their heads. Nothing."
"You don't trust me, Harry?"
"Promise me," he said again.
"Fine, fine," sighed Voldemort. "They won't be hurt."
"And you'll give up this town?"
"Harry - " He stopped at the determined look on the boy's face. "I'll give it back."
"Good."
Voldemort just chuckled. "I just can't say no to you, my Harry."
And Harry grimaced. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
"Well, we must be going," the Dark Lord said briskly. He pulled out a small red orb. "As soon as you touch this, you'll be transported to Headquarters. It's time to join our world."
Harry hesitated in reaching out his hand. There was no going back from this, nothing would be the same again. But as he scanned the crowd, his eyes locked with a small, nine year old girl, tears streaking down her face. And he knew what he had to do.
He clasped the orb and disappeared.
