Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings.

Chapter 35 – From the Frying Pan Into the Fire

The man approached the innocuous building, his silver and green robes billowing behind him. Despite being older than the very whole town, he didn't know how he could enter it, although he knew that it was through the innocent-looking booth next to it. He was powerful enough to visualize magic around him, but he also knew that he was losing his power steadily. It has been 83 years since he last fed, and he was missing his ingenious device dearly.

He entered the telephone booth and used his magic awareness to learn how to use it. When the voice from the strange device asked for his name, though, he was a little concerned. Would he give his real name or a fake one? He didn't want to be found out yet, because of his weakened state, and uttered the first thing passing through his mind. His long-dead enemy.

"Godefroy Frederickson."

The voice made a pause and, for a brief moment, he feared that he had been uncovered. But the voice spoke again.

"State your business."

He reflected for a second and answered "Recover a lost artefact."

The voice fell silent, and the cabin began to descend. He quickly found himself in the Ministry lobby, and the clerk who had talked through the telephone asked for his wand. He extracted it, wary of anything unusual about it, but the clerk merely uttered a spell and a visitor badge appeared, stating his assumed name and business.

"Wear this badge at all times. It will disappear once you leave the premises. The Department of Artefacts is on the fourth level. Good day."

"Good day." answered the man automatically. He wasn't used to the bureaucracy, as his time was much simpler, and had to ask his way several times. When he found the elevator, his odd demeanour earned him curious glances from the people there. He sighed. Times had changed very much during his long imprisonment.

Contrarily to his reputation, he wasn't the aggressive type, though, and didn't threaten his way here or there. If he had been, he could have found what he sought. As it was, he was sent from service to service and ended the day exhausted, and without having found anything.

At the same time, in a secluded set of rooms...

The weapons were beautiful. They seemed identical, both coated in platinum and adorned with several jewels. The only difference was the biggest gemstone set in the rear. One was a crimson ruby, and the other was a dark blue sapphire. Not knowing their exact use, as his grandmother's last words implied Technomancy, he read the booklet which accompanied them, and found many interesting things.

...the hidden chambers are situated in my cottage's basement. To access it from the outside, or to exit it in the same way, I have to use the ring, or adjust its time flow to be the same than the outside one. I'm only able to do this from the inside, though, but I should find a way to do it from the house. The time frame, like several other properties of the chambers, is controlled by the panel hidden behind the cedar pane at the bed's head. The buttons' gem defines their goal: diamond is for adjusting the time flow; ruby is for the temperature; sapphire is for the light. Rooms can be added or removed by pressing the corresponding emerald buttons.

Looking up, he fumbled a little, and found said panel. It had several other buttons to it, but he immediately used the diamond one to revert the time flow to be the same than the outside world. As written in the book, a door immediately appeared, supposedly leading to his grandmother's cottage.

He was already halfway through the book, though, and decided to continue reading before exploring the countryside.

Several pages later...

...years back, when I designed the weapons, I had several choices. I preferred the 1911 model because it was already highly customisable in the muggle world. They are covered in a magical substance which can look like anything I want, although I prefer platinum for the moment. They are one of a kind, now, because the other Technomancers don't like messing with weapons. I had an inkling about them during the previous war, though. We would have lost fewer people if they had been made then. They are charmed to work with my Jumping ring, and if the ring wearer removes it, they will be sent back to the chambers soon afterwards. Another of the weapons' properties is their notice-me-not charm. They won't be noticed until hand held, and as such, can be stowed in regular pockets without being detected.

How they work: they are initially empty, which is denoted by the dark aspect of the gem. I can imbue them with a spell, by casting it while touching the gem with a wand. Once activated, they will keep the spell for a year, and the gem will be alit. To use them, I do like regular muggle guns: I take it in my hand, and press the trigger with my index finger. The spell will be released then, using my own magical energy to fuel it. I chose different gems so that I'll recognise them should I load them with different spells. The gems can be rotated to switch between single-shot (pressing the trigger will release the spell once) and semi-automatic (pressing once releases three bursts one closely after the other). The semi-automatic setting is more taxing for the magic, though. I didn't think including a full-automatic option was interesting, because almost nobody has the power needed to sustain a constant drain of energy. They are-

Harry suddenly closed his eyes and held his head in pain. He recognised the feeling and, not wanting to fall into unconsciousness because of the incoming vision from Voldemort, he strengthened his membrane-type mind shield. He was going to find out, though, that it didn't block the vision, only blocking the pain and preventing him from falling unconscious. It also gave him a much better insight of Voldemort's thoughts.

Meanwhile, in a dark cottage...

Voldemort was angry, but happy at the same time.

He was angry because his Ministry spies reported that his yet-unnamed ally had gone to the Ministry several times without telling him. He was also angry because his Order of the Phoenix spy told him that a boy he thought dead was alive.

However, he was quite happy, because the current Minister of Magic had made several discreet attempts to make an alliance with him. He knew that Arthur Weasley was normally on the light side, but his spies had reported that his new laws weren't Light in nature and effect. Quite the contrary. In a subtle way, a note from said Minister made him understand that he wasn't Arthur Weasley himself but another spirit. As if he was possessed but without the usual drawbacks. In clear, he couldn't be exorcised.

Voldemort was also happy because of his two new prisoners. Draco Malfoy was quite an enigma, obviously being out of his right mind. Ginny Weasley, though, captured thanks to the new Minister's actions, was very frightful of her new state. Through several spy reports, going as far as a year back, he knew that she was Harry Potter's girlfriend, and he intended to use her to get Harry, so that the boy would be able to either join him, or be killed.

"My faithful followers!"

The black-robed wizards and witches cowered, before noticing the jubilant tone.

"We have several trump cards at our disposal as of yet."

A confused silence ensued while Voldemort enjoyed his speech.

"It was confirmed to me that Harry Potter" the name was uttered with hatred and contempt, "was alive."

At these words, his followers looked at each other with even more confusion. Wasn't Harry Potter dead the year before?

"I got reports that the infamous boy lived as a muggle for a year, before joining the magical world again. You think it's normal?"

His audience didn't want to answer, because the dark lord was usually torturing those who spoke out of turn. However, Voldemort was in sermon mode, and he expected a cheer.

"You think it's normal?" he repeated, louder.

Several Death Eaters got the hint, and timidly answered "No."

"I don't hear you! Do you think it's normal that the boy be allowed to live?"

A chorus of "No!" answered him.

"Ah, I knew you'd agree." he said, smiling. A dangerous, evil smile.

"We are going to lure him here, using that wretched muggle-lover." he said, kicking the prone body in front of him so that the bloodied face of Ginny Weasley was visible.

"I want the few of you in contact with that old fool Dumbledore to make him aware that she's in my power. He surely knows where the boy is, and it will bring him here. Make sure to double the patrols, and, when the boy arrives, subjugate him and bring him to me! When he'll find in what state the girl is, he'll submit. Like this: Crucio!"

The red beam struck Ginny's body and she writhed on the floor, under the cackle of Voldemort, quickly followed by his followers' laughter.

Harry cut the connection with a start, before hurrying in his bathroom to empty his stomach in disgust. He then straightened up, feeling an unbearable coldness inside him. If Voldemort wanted to play this game, he will find a worthy adversary.

After using his grandmother's wand to cast the explosion curse on one gun and a cutting curse on the other, he stored them in his pockets and portkeyed to Hogwarts.

Several days before, in Dumbledore's office...

Albus Dumbledore was glad. He was glad to be alive. When the demon had appeared and called his name, he had thought that he could take it like he had done several times a century ago. However, he wasn't as resilient as before, and the demon had been particularly tough. After battling with it alone for half an hour, he had noticed that the demon had never seemed hurt by his attacks, while he was losing strength and magical power steadily. At that time, he had regretted stunning Minerva, because she could have helped him a little.

He was glad, but displayed a thoughtful frown. His main concern was the reason why the dragon had begun protecting him. Never in his whole life had he met dragons willing to meddle in human affairs unless it was his Dragon Mate who was threatened. The interfering dragon had also displayed several abilities unheard of. Not only was it very resilient to the demon's lava body, but it had also regrown its claws several times. It also never breathed fire, rather attacking with strange balls of lightning, something he didn't know was possible.

Now, though, he was concerned about the people in his office. These wizards and witches, some of them he knew from Hogwarts, had displayed strange abilities too. Their explanations weren't making sense, and he found that he couldn't enter their mind at all. As if his own mind was surrounded with an impenetrable shield. After Madam Pomfrey's treatment, after which he requested to be left conscious, he had a private meeting with the man who seemed to be the leader, the others leaving the premises toward Hogsmeade.

"So, Professor Dumbledore," started Joshua, "are you still teaching Transfiguration?"

"Yes I am, Joshua. Actually, I stepped down from the Headmaster position this year, after last summer's Ministry scuffle. Minerva is Headmistress now."

"I noticed that she was still around. Nothing happened between the two of you yet?" Joshua asked with an amused glint in his eyes. "In my time, the rumour mill was very... prolix."

"Now, now, Joshua. Don't invent things."

Joshua became serious again. "In fact, I requested the private meeting because I have a question. Do you know where Gabriel is?"

"Who?"

"Gabriel Swift. He is another Mag... a young wizard, 15 or 16 years old. Brown hair, blue eyes, tanned skin. He came to my office and suddenly fell in a trance. When he woke up, he yelled for us to come to your rescue before leaving, supposedly to help you. We didn't see him around, though."

Albus reflected about that for several seconds before replying. "I didn't notice anyone there until your arrival, and I don't know about a boy with this name. Is it his real name?"

Joshua looked sheepishly at his old Professor. "I... kind of... scanned his mind. Briefly, mind you. And he really thinks that it's his name. So, I guess that must be-"

"You know," interrupted Albus, who had been thoughtful during Joshua's diatribe, "I didn't see a person, but that interfering dragon came into the fight half an hour before your appearance."

"Half an hour? But... that's..." Joshua looked at Albus with wide eyes. "That's the time I used to gather the others Magi... magical people."

Albus looked at the man with a surprised glance. "Do you think... do you think that the boy was in fact a Metamorphic Dragon? The most powerful dragons of legend, able to mingle between humans?"

"Well... I don't know. I'll try to get more information." answered Joshua, thinking about one person able to give him that information. Luna Lovegood. Besides, he still had four people standing still in his scrambled office in Coventry Street, waiting for him to release them.

The two men exchanged several ideas, before Joshua excused himself and left the castle. The man gone, Albus Dumbledore was alone to think, and his first thought was to ask himself why Joshua, the clean and precise speaker, had stumbled several times on simple words. He sighed, and downed the vials Poppy had left on the nightstand for him to sleep his wounds away.

The next days went like a blur of unbelievable information for the old professor, as numerous reports came from his spies in the Ministry. At the same time, Severus finally found Jugson again and extracted Voldemort's past actions and current plan. And it looked like hell. Arthur Weasley wasn't reachable for an explanation on his new laws, and the Ministry building was closed from outside interference. Albus himself was still healing and couldn't go there himself.

Four days after his run-in with the demon, he was having a full Order meeting, minus the Weasleys, none of them being reachable. Also missing were Hagrid, Sirius, and Remus, who currently travelled through Ural to get the local giants' help. Today's meeting topic was their Minister's current actions and laws, which were going darker and darker. In the middle of a sentence, though, his fireplace came to life, something strange because it was only accessible from chosen locations, one of which being the Ministry.

Nobody appeared, though, but after a short pause, an arm slipped in the green flame and dropped a scroll in the room. In the stunned silence which followed, the arm retracted and the green fire disappeared.

"Don't touch it!" roared Snape as several members had jumped on their feet. He approached the scroll and uttered a few identification and trap detection spells, before turning towards Dumbledore.

"It's a portkey, Albus. But there is a message written in it. Shall I?"

"Please, do, Severus."

The Potion Master then levitated the message on Albus' desk and magically unrolled it. In a voice which quickly grew concerned, he read it aloud for the others' benefit.

Dear Muggle-loving old fool,

I guess you are wondering why I'd contact you at all. Know that it had come to my understanding that your favourite boy, the one-who-lived, is alive. I really want to have a little chat with him, and therefore provided you with this portkey. It's charmed to accept only one person, so don't think you'd be able to bring an army. I also made it so that only a teenage boy can use it. If you try to use it yourself, you'd find a very unpleasant end in the middle of a lava pool. The portkey activation word is "pureblood."

Why would he come to me? Simple. I detain Ginny Weasley. If you know what is good for you, you'll give him the letter. Otherwise, he'll receive a body part for each missing day.

Lord Voldemort

A shocked silence ensued, and then everybody started speaking at the same time. As nobody could hear anything in the commotion, speaking quickly came to shouting. After unsuccessfully trying to re-establish the calm, Albus shook his head, his still deep wounds preventing him from shouting himself.

Something else happened, though, which brought back silence in the cramped office. Several nearby explosions rocked the office walls, and everybody jumped on their feet. Well, everybody except Dumbledore, who sat up painfully. They all turned toward the door, intent on finding the cause of these explosions, when said door was forcefully opened and somebody entered the office.

Somebody particularly angry.

Somebody who disregarded the twenty wands aimed on him.

Somebody nobody recognized, except Dumbledore and McGonagall, although barely.

Somebody whose eyes sought Dumbledore, and upon finding him, yelled.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

Harry Potter.

Severus Snape let his instincts kick in and approached, sneering, with the intent to tell him off. He was cut short, though, as something shiny and dangerous-looking appeared under his nose, held in Harry's hand. It wasn't a wand, but every wizard with a little muggle culture gasped.

"I didn't like you before," Harry began, his eyes alit with a dangerous power, "and I won't hesitate to paint the wall with your brain if you restrain me, now, TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" he finished, looking at Dumbledore again.

"Now, Harry, you can't hope-" began Dumbledore.

"STOP! I didn't come here to listen to fairy tales! Ginny is being tortured at this very moment, and I don't intend to let her suffer!"

"But you can't go!"

"Why?" Harry's tone was cutting in itself, and Dumbledore winced, knowing that the teenager wouldn't hear reason. He had to try, though. The prophecy...

"Harry, there's a prophecy-"

"I know! The so-called Warrior of Light-"

"Not this one! There's another, and it implies that you can't run headfirst into Voldemort's trap."

A silence. Harry frowned. Albus thought that he was regaining the upper hand. Slowly.

"Tell me why I shouldn't go to save Ginny from that madman? Why I should let her suffer? Let her die?"

"It's for the greater good, Harry. Only you can destroy Voldemort, but you are not ready to face him yet. You will be, later, if you train appropriately. And until then, I forbid-"

"Not ready? NOT READY? Whose fault is it? Who dropped me in a muggle house for ten years? And how dare you forbid me anything?" Harry's eyes were sparkling, now, but it wasn't in amusement. He approached the old man behind the desk, releasing a sweating Snape in the process. Spotting the old man's crutches, he nodded toward them, before speaking slowly.

"Don't make me regret saving your life, old man."

"What do you mean?" asked a frightened Minerva, voicing everybody's question.

Albus tried to regain hold of the conversation. "Look. I don't remember you ever saving my life, Harry, and I really can't tell you anything about your first question either. You can't barge in, during an Ord... a private meeting, and... by the way, how did you enter?"

Harry had been looking contemptuous, then furious, and finally smug during Albus' tirade, but the underlying anger was still burning underneath the calmer facade.

"Read my mind if you think that my pitiful self couldn't have saved an old, experienced, and powerful wizard." Speaking louder, so that the other people in the room understood, he said "And I only granted Dumbledore the permission."

Minerva frowned at the boy's cheek and utter lack of respect. At the same time, Snape smirked. Even if Harry hadn't said anything about 'granting his permission', he would have prodded the youngling's mind anyway. As Dumbledore was going to do it at the same time, he would be undetectable.

"Legilimens." spoke Dumbledore, his wand aimed at Harry's head.

"Legilimens." silently mouthed Snape at the same time, doing the same action.

Both wizards found their conscious mind floating in front of a large, spherical, and gelatinous blob of unknown matter, although they didn't notice each other yet. Both frowned.

Harry's mind cell-like membrane recognized Albus, and it shimmered, before giving way to a small bubble of Harry's memories. An edited memory of the fight with the demon. No reference was made about Harry's true powers, only the fact that he was the dragon. After witnessing the scene, realizing that Harry had really put himself in grave danger for him, Albus almost collapsed under the flow of emotions which passed through him. Shame. Guilt. Sorrow.

Still in Harry's mind, a sound interrupted his trance. Someone was screaming in pain, and it seemed to come from Harry's mind. He looked up, startled.

"What is it? Harry? Are you alright?"

A feeling washed through him, and he understood that Harry was fine. Very fine, even. The blob in front of him rotated until he noticed something sticking to it. Something humanoid, and screaming in pain. He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern what it was.

When he found out, though, he yelped in surprise. And dread. "Harry! You have to release him!"

Once again, feelings washed over him, and he understood that, by disobeying Harry's request, Snape brought this upon himself. He was still curious about how it was done, though, and extended his consciousness' hand toward Snape and the blob. He didn't go far, before feeling a slap on it and being forcefully kicked out of the teen's mind.

When Dumbledore opened his eyes again, he found a smug Harry looking at him. Looking behind the teenager, he noticed the crumpled body of his Potion Master.

"I told them not to. He did."

"What is it, Harry? What did I see? I never saw anything looking like that before."

Harry sneered. "It' because, despite being known as muggle-lover by everyone, you are not interested by what they do. And learn, too, by the way."

Harry frowned for a second, and the Potion Master stood up with a sudden yelp.

"I freed him. Now, help me free Ginny. Where is she?"

Albus sighed. Judging by everything he had seen, the boy had a bigger chance than him to free her. Especially now that he was in crutches. Would they come back unscathed, though? That was the question.

"Okay, Harry. Before you go, I will still ask if you have a plan or a precise intention while being there. We can help you, perhaps. I could cast a magical shield on you before you leave."

Harry seemed to think about it. In fact, he really thought about it. He hadn't made any plan. He extracted his two guns from his pockets, surprising everyone. One after the other, he positioned them on the semi-automatic setting, while speaking to the shocked old man. Of course, in his long life, Dumbledore had noticed the muggle arts of destruction, and these weapons should never have been in a teenager's hands.

"-tack spells do you know?"

Harry had been talking to him. He shook his head and asked for him to repeat.

"What powerful attack spells do you know?" obliged Harry, rolling his eyes.

Albus reflected. "It depends on your intent. Some spells maim, others stun..."

"I know, I know. I want to incapacitate them, but I don't want them to wake with an all-too-easy enervate. I also want spells that can go through most shields."

"There is the Lance of Power curse. It passes through most shields. Only very powerful wizards can stop it. It goes through several yards of soft matter too, allowing the caster to take several ranks out at the same time. It is very taxing, though."

Harry was thinking hard. When Dumbledore finished his speech, Harry had rotated the ruby back to the single-shot position, not wanting to be drained of his energy too quickly. Holding the weapon by the cannon, he spoke again.

"Very well. Cast it on the ruby."

"What?"

"You heard me. Cast that spell on the ruby. You don't have to know anything else."

"Harry..." started professor Flitwick, the tiny Charm teacher, "what exactly is that?"

"Not now, professor. I promise you'll have information, but I need to be quick now." Noticing that Dumbledore had finished casting the spell, he switched guns, and, looking at Dumbledore with an amused glance, said "Another spell, please."

Surprisingly, as Dumbledore was thinking about another spell, a timid voice came from the assembled people.

"You could turn them to stone."

The voice came from professor Sprout. When she noticed that everybody was looking at her, she shrugged. "What? At least, you wouldn't kill them, but they would need a specific potion to heal, and it had to be made on purpose. After what happened last year, I read a bit, and found a spell that duplicated the Basilisk eye effect, actually turning people into stone. It was the Transmogrifus hex, I think."

"You're right, Pomona." said Minerva. "I forgot about it, but I knew it from my old days. It's strange how I never used it in battle, only using Transfiguration on objects..." she trailed off, staring into space.

Harry was feeling restless, now. "Can you cast it?"

"What?"

He sighed, before answering in a sing-song voice. "Professor McGonagall, can you cast the spell on this sapphire, please?"

She looked at Albus, who nodded back. Sighing, she concentrated, and uttered the spell. Like the ruby under Dumbledore's ministrations, the blue gem was now alit with power.

Harry took hold of the two guns, and looked at Dumbledore. "Thank you. Now, where is she? I lost enough time already."

"Voldemort sent us a portkey, charmed to take only you. Otherwise, we'd have gone along. The activation word is... pureblood."

"Understandable. Where is it?"

"Let me cast a shield first. As I am the one casting it, it will be fuelled by my energy. Despite having recovered from my... our... previous fight, be aware that it could go down if you are going to be heavily assaulted. It also doesn't block the Unforgivables."

"Thank you. Let's do this."

"Shall we add a Tracking charm on him, too?" asked Flitwick.

"You know it's useless, Filius." answered Dumbledore. "Voldemort's hiding place has always confused our Trackers."

"Now that this is out, can I go? Please?" asked Harry sarcastically, reminding Dumbledore about the shield.

The spell cast, Harry was surrounded in a magical field extending one inch around him. He smiled, and took the parchment. He opened his mouth, reflected about it for a second, and closed it. Looking shameful, he spoke to the Headmistress.

"Sorry for the gargoyle. It wouldn't let me through. Pureblood."

The boy gone, pandemonium erupted again. Most of the Order members respected Dumbledore and his decisions, but it was usual for them to comment on them in length. Now, with Harry's many outbursts, few of them understanding them, they had things to chat about. Albus turned his seat around, though, to escape the commotion. He then concentrated on his energy level, monitoring Harry's progress through its decrease.

In the room behind him, several people were talking together.

Moody approached Snape and, after tapping on his shoulder, addressed him with his usual curtness. "What happened in the boy's mind?"

Severus smirked. "You wouldn't believe it."

"Try me."

A sigh. "I found a large sphere, and when I got close to it, it recognized me. What happened then I don't know, but I felt trapped. Like... like a fly in a honey pot."

Moody smirked. "Did you eat your content?"

"Did I say honey? It sure didn't have the taste. I was stuck like that, but feeling as if I was drenched in acid."

An intake of breath.

"Yes, I agree. It's rather unpleasant."

"You went for it, though."

"I know! That's why I want to kick myself now. The darn boy got me ag-"

He didn't finish his sentence, because a shriek came from the opened door.

While Moody and Severus were discussing, and while Dumbledore was getting steadily weaker and weaker, Minerva and Pomona had had a short conversation.

"What did he mean with the gargoyle?" had asked the Herbology teacher.

"I don't know, I'll check." had answered Minerva, before leaving the room.

When she had noticed the state of the famous gargoyle, she had shrieked in surprise, the sound bringing several other members out of her office.

"What... Was that Harry?" asked the tiny professor Flitwick.

"If he conveniently arrived after the explosions we felt, and if he apologized for it, there are chances that he's the culprit." sneered Snape.

"If he's that powerful, he will succeed, then?" asked Sprout, hoping against hope that Harry and Ginny were going to be fine.

"I doubt it." answered Snape. "The Dark Lord is very powerful now, and has many followers."

Throwing an angry glance at the Potion Master, Minerva answered her plump colleague. "We can only hope, Pomona. We can only hope."

They suddenly heard a tumult up the few steps leading to the office. Going there, they found Poppy Pomfrey giving potions to a panting and ashen-faced Albus Dumbledore. Harry had left only fifteen minutes earlier and, judging by Albus' state, he clearly didn't have his shield anymore.

A short time later...

Harry slumped against the damp cell wall, panting, and crying. He wanted to slam his head in the wall, but wasn't having any strength left. These torture sessions were exhausting, and he didn't even have the possibility to use his shape-changing powers here, as the wards seemed to prevent all kinds of shape changing. His elemental abilities depended on his energy, and he had emptied it in one go before being taken. While it had been satisfactory at the time, he didn't have time to recharge himself since then, and between the torture sessions, he couldn't even start. In one of his rare moments of sanity, he reflected that would have helped to adjust his nerves with Lightning to lessen the impact of the Cruciatus. He kicked the bedpost in despair. He didn't even have his ring anymore! Holding himself in the dark and cold cell, he tried to ignore his own stench to get a few minutes of uninterrupted sleep, a rarity.

As always, he dreamed of his capture. It was more a nightmare than a dream, though.

Harry had arrived right in the middle of Voldemort's Throne room, and immediately spotted several wands trained on him, as well as the prone form of Ginny between him and Voldemort.

"Ah, my boy. You arrived, at last. We will have a little chat together if you will. But let me take care of a now useless detail. Avada Kedavra!"

And Harry, stunned by Voldemort's action, saw the green light connect to Ginny's body.

Ginny, whose bloodied form lied at his feet.

Ginny, whose eyes, barely opened, had spotted him and held a modicum of hope.

Ginny, who was now dead. Lifeless.

He felt something starting to tear inside him, and knew what was going to happen. An elemental surge like never before. He restrained himself for a second, though, because he didn't want Ginny's body to be damaged. He wanted her in his refuge. Even dead, he wanted her body safe from prying eyes and hands. It would be her tomb. Only afterwards would he exact his revenge. His mind wasn't thinking straight, and he thought that, with her gone, his life was forfeit anyway.

He kneeled at her side, under the laughter of the surrounding Death Eaters mocking his Gryffindor chivalry. A full meeting. Good. Under the cover of his cloak, he removed his ring. His faithful ring. And he slipped it to her finger. Embracing her for the last time, but not touching the ring itself, he spoke through his tears.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I should have helped you. They'll pay, though. May you rest in peace. Safehaven."

When Voldemort and the Death Eaters noticed that Harry Potter was now embracing an empty spot, they began to grow restless. The boy couldn't teleport bodies, now could he?

Of course he could. And he could do much more as they were going to find out. The small moan that was coming from the slumped teen rose in intensity and volume as he was progressively standing. At the same time, the space around him started to fill with crackling energy. Nobody knew what that was, and several curses flew towards the kneeling boy, only to be absorbed by Dumbledore's shield. When they thought that the boy couldn't scream louder, his voice still raised a notch or two, before breaking suddenly.

And hell broke loose at the same time. Instantaneously.

The lightning summoned around Harry had contained every little pleasure or pain from his life. It was his whole reserve of energy, and the damages were on par with the boy's loss.

Voldemort flew backwards because of the blast, and passed through the large window, only to fall from third floor onto the rocky soil around his cottage. He had turned his head just before the blast, and was burnt "only" on the whole side of his head, as well as his hands. His chest, arms, and legs had been damaged too, to a lesser extent. Passing through the window brought about numerous cuts on his arms and back. Upon crashing on the ground, he also broke his right leg in three places, as well as his right arm, his clavicle, and a few ribs. His other personal loss was his wand. It had been out, and the energy blast had scorched its outside quite well, and falling on it caused it to finally snap, triggering another explosion, which resulted in his wand hand being utterly destroyed. In all purposes, he didn't have a hand there anymore. He lost his consciousness as well.

A large part of the Death Eaters who attended the meeting didn't have that luck. Or rather, they didn't have the same lack of luck. The first rank of Death Eaters around him suffered the brunt of the surge and they were vaporized on the spot. Most of the Death Eaters of the second rank lost enough flesh that they couldn't be considered living anymore. The third and fourth ranks suffered burns of varying degree. Some died of it immediately, while others suffered for a long time before either dying or receiving the appropriate potions. A quarter of the remaining Death Eaters retched at the display, while another quarter tried to escape and flee the obviously powerful wizard. It still left half of them free to curse Harry back. Curses being blocked by the shield, again.

Harry, having depleted his elemental energy, extracted his guns from his pockets, under the wary gaze of the black-robed wizards and witches. Despite being hit by several Explosion and Cutting curses at the same time, Harry held his ruby gun to his right, and his sapphire to his left, before pressing the triggers as fast as he could. After fifteen seconds and several more Death Eaters incapacitated, the guns, which were still linked to the ring, disappeared from his hands. Harry then fell on his knees, exhausted. The Death Eaters suspected that it was finished, and, after an intense barrage of curses, Dumbledore's shield finally collapsed and Harry was stunned and taken prisoner. Some older Death Eaters made good use of his prone state to use the Cruciatus on him. Intensely. Repeatedly. Two or more at a time. Only after several minutes did they decide to leave him, naked, in the coldest and dampest cell they had. And they then sought their master.

He hadn't heard the cries of pain of the wounded, then. He hadn't seen the mangled bodies of the dead. He hadn't smelt the burnt flesh either. He hadn't even felt the few rounds of Cruciatus which followed.

But in his nightmares, it all came back to haunt him.

He woke up with a start. Another session had started. Another couple of vengeful Death Eater coming to train their proficiency in casting the Cruciatus curse. Again.

Voldemort had forbidden them to do it too much, and Harry suspected that healing spells and potions were being used on him while he slept, to keep him alive. He hadn't seen Voldemort since Ginny... since then, and he suspected that the Dark Lord was hiding to lick his own wounds, waiting to be fully cured to be seen again. To be able to kill again. To kill him.

He wasn't completely wrong.

Meanwhile, in another cell in another building...

In another kind of cell, another teenage boy looked at the wall angrily. It was night time, but he was restless. He didn't know what was happening with his family. He didn't know what happened to Ginny or why his mother stopped screaming after three days. He didn't know how Ron was faring due to the lack of food, but he knew something. Fred was in pain.

Twins were renowned to do that, you know. They are sometimes gifted with a limited telepathy link. And George knew that his favourite brother had been kicked viciously by the warden on the last shift, and that he was hurting, lying on the cell stone floor.

George started to pace in his cell restlessly, but quickly noticed that he stopped several at a precise point in his pacing. Always the same point. The wall right to the door. He knew his twin was there. He felt it. And he knew it was reciprocated. Angry at the events, he did something he never did before, perhaps because if was completely stupid given the state of his naked foot and the stony walls of his cell.

He kicked the wall. Hard.

And something strange happened.

Instead of breaking on the hard stone, his foot passed through it, followed by his leg and the other parts of his body in the correct order. A stunned George Weasley found himself in his twin brother's cell, to said brother's equally astonished face.

"Hey George. What are you doing in my royal suite?" asked Fred weakly.

"I don't know. I just kicked the wall, and I passed through." answered George, looking at his foot as if it was at fault.

"How?"

"I don't know either."

Fred's face lit up. "Hey, you can escape! And perhaps take us out too!"

George looked around, frowning.

"What?" asked his twin.

George frown intensified, and he spoke, looking at the door intently. "I'll try."

He brought his leg back, taking aim, and kicked the door. Hard.

In front of Fred's stunned gaze, George disappeared through the door.

There was only word expressing Fred's reaction. "Wicked!"

George found himself in the dank corridor, lucky that nobody was there at that moment. He slowly walked towards the exit, silent on his naked feet, and wary of every little sound. He had to find a way to let his family out, and quickly. He quickly found himself at the end of the prison corridor, with a door in front of him and another one on his right.

His memory told him that the door in front of him led outside, and the sign on the other door told him that he had to delay escaping. 'Prisoners depot.'

After all, the cell doors weren't locked by keys but by magic. And to open them, he needed to retrieve his previously confiscated wand. He kicked the door again, hoping that the weird pass-wall thingy was still working.

It was.

He found himself in a small round room where several boxes containing miscellaneous items, each with a hand-written label. He quickly found his family's wands and missing clothing. He quickly put his boots on, his naked feet being quite cold now. After gathering everything, he went to the door, and kicked it.

...only succeeding in harming himself, as the door held true. And the resulting sound echoed in the whole corridor.

He looked at his foot, and had an idea. The only difference between now and before was his boots. Hearing footsteps coming from afar, he removing his boots quickly and kicked the door again. Once in the corridor, he sighed and ran to his own cell, kicking his way through the door again. Panting at the exertion, he quickly deposited his meagre loot under the straw bed and lied on it.

He had just closed his eyes and calmed his ragged breathing, faking sleep like the prankster he was, when the door's window opened and closed a second afterwards. He heard the Aurors outside grumbling at the false alarm while opening and closing the eyepieces from the other cells.

Five minutes after the men left, he took the loot from under him and kicked his way toward his brother again. There would be some action tonight.

Around the same time, in a plane approaching England...

"What is your book about?"

Hermione looked around them, and whispered in Megan's ear. "Remember when Harry used that spell on you? I asked myself questions about that, and bought a book on Advanced Alchemy. Pretty interesting views."

Megan smirked. "Couldn't prevent yourself to start studying even before arriving home, huh?"

"Of course not!" huffed Hermione, although the two weeks of vacation they had spent together made Megan recognise the amused twinkle in her older friend's eyes.

The plane was on its way to Heathrow, and the two girls would be home in a few hours...

...or so they thought.

To be continued in next chapter: Blood, Magic, and Blood Magic...

There is death in this chapter.
If you're sad, read another
Previously explaining things
And listing the proceedings.