Updated: Thursday 30th June 2005
Disclaimer: Again, still not mine… and still borrowing bits from GOF
Chapter Ninety Five: Long Way From HomeThe day had passed blissfully quickly for Harry – all the School Champions were actively engaged in ceremonious gatherings that occupied most of his time. To his surprise, the Weasleys were invited to observe him in the task… although Harry suspected that Dumbledore's motives for having them come along and spend the afternoon with him on the school grounds had been a little less transparent. That's not to say that he wasn't thankful for the distraction.
Dinner that evening in the Great Hall started early, and ran for many courses. Meeting the dark eyes of his Potions Master from where the imposing man sat at his place at the Head table, Harry could almost sense the agitation coming off the Slytherin Housemaster in waves.
'He feels caged.' Harry realised with a start as he took in the man's jerky movements and strained expression and instantly related to it. That the greasy-haired professor was usually so deft at concealing his emotions made even this slightest variation very telling. Never before did Harry expect to find himself sympathising with the oversized bat. The sudden thought of bats and the overriding desire to see Estella rescued inexplicably conjured in his mind the image of himself and Snape working together to combat Malfoy. While that in itself was not altogether too out of the question given the circumstances, that he and Snape had been going about their 'hero duties' as none other than Batman and Robin disturbed him to no end. He slammed his head against the edge of the table in a effort to purge his mind of the memory.
"Harry? You all right there mate?" Ron leaned closer to his friend in concern and patted him on the shoulder carefully.
"How can he expect me to just go along with this like nothing has happened?" Harry groaned, the combined stress of not knowing where Estella was and the anxiety about the upcoming task doing nothing for his stomach, which was presently doing its most gallant impression of a washing machine.
"Harry, you must think of what it will do to Estella if word were to get out…" Hermione struggled to reason with the boy who refused to meet her eyes. Little did she know that the over-imaginative Gryffindor was still trying to shake the image of Snape in a bat suit out of his mind. The repetitive theme music in his head was not helping him at all.
He laughed, in spite of himself.
"Harry?" Ron reared back in alarm. "Blimey, you've gone completely bonkers, you know that?"
"Harry, do you require the nurse?" Hermione looked at him curiously. "You appear to be cracking under the stress… I hear Fleur has been on calming draught since yesterday. It will be completely acceptable if you…"
"What?" Harry shook some clarity back into his addled mind and sighed. "Oh, that? Forget it… I just got the image of Snape in a bat suit in my head for a moment and couldn't shake it. Sorry."
While Ron could only stare at Harry as though he had grown an extra head, Hermione spat her Pumpkin juice out across the table. After apologising to Neville (who was in her line of fire) and cleaning the table with a swish of her wand, she turned back to Harry to regard him carefully.
"Harry Potter!" She admonished him, though the edges of her mouth were threatening to betray a smile. "What on earth possessed you to think of that at such a time?"
"Comic relief?" Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Trust me, you don't want to know."
"What's so funny about picturing Snape as a bat?" Ron was puzzled. "I do it all the time. It's scary more than anything."
"Not in this bat suit he's not." Hermione told him, exchanging a knowing look with Harry, who groaned at the retuning imagery.
The atmosphere at the table lightening somewhat, the trio returned to their meal; with Harry struggling to force himself through a sustainable portion of food. It would, after all, not serve him well at all to collapse from hunger in the middle of the task. By the time the dessert courses started, however, Harry had returned to playing with his food… his mind wandering back to more oppressive thoughts.
Noticing the furtive glances that Harry kept shooting in Professor Snape's direction, Hermione cast a small privacy bubble around the three of them and reached out and grabbed Harry's hand; capturing his attention.
"Harry?" She asked him, concern lining her features.
"I just don't understand it! How can the school just pretend nothing has happened?" Harry whispered. "Why is he still here? Why doesn't he just go and get her back?"
"What makes you think he isn't doing that right now?" Hermione suggested. "If it truly is as simple as that, then maybe that's why the School is able to pretend…"
At this point, Ron joined the conversation.
"How can he be in two places at once?" He frowned.
"Time Turner… Polyjuice…" Hermione listed off her fingers, keeping her voice low so as not to attract the attention of the others at the table. "Think about it, Ron."
"Then why tell us she was gone at all?" Harry cut in desperately. "You saw the look on Snuffles' face! He looked like he'd never see her again!"
"Do you reckon Snape could be helping Malfoy?" Ron said suddenly, doe-like eyes widening. "Wouldn't be surprised if the greasy git was evil all along!" he paused, as though mortified by a thought that had just come to him. "Harry, do you think Snape could have been the one to put your name in the Goblet? That he cursed Krum and… and… and…"
"Ronald Weasley, will you stop this nonsense immediately!" Hermione grabbed the rambling redhead by the shoulders and rattled his lanky form. "Professor Snape is a respected and trusted member of the Hogwarts staff; both Estella and the Headmaster can vouch for that. Besides, you need only look at the number of times Professor Snape has saved Harry's life here to know what side he is on…"
"But Hermione!" Ron accosted her condescendingly. "What if that was all part of his plan… to… to… to suck us all in? And you can't have missed how vile Snape has been to Estella since she's been back! His own niece, Hermione!"
"He did throw her out of his class…" Harry furrowed his brow, casting the professor in question a look that was met with a steely glare. Estella had not been very forthcoming with the reasons for that, though he had his suspicions, and after seeing the flicker of emotion in Snape's eyes, he felt his resolve was renewed. "Maybe he did that though to protect her."
"Protect her? Harry, you're making no sense!" Ron shook his head. "Think about it! She's been under threat since she's been back, and yet rather do what most normal uncles would do and not let her out of his sight, he's as much as played her directly into Malfoy's hands!"
"Ron…" Hermione gestured for him to stop. Their gesturing, and the furtive glances they all kept giving Snape, had begun to attract the attention of the Head table, and Hermione had no doubt that most of the staff would be able to detect the presence of her privacy bubble.
"No, Hermione." Ron brushed her hand away irritably and continued to look at Harry intensely. "If he's thrown her out of class, then that means he's not once been alone with her since he's been back! Why do you think that is? I reckon it's because he doesn't want to become a suspect!"
"I don't know." Harry said pensively, ruffling his hair into further disarray. "If that was the case, then why did Dumbledore send for him while Sirius was still there? Why send for him at all if it was suspected he had a part in things?"
"Finally, I am not the only one of us capable of talking some sense!" Hermione looked heavenward in appreciation. "Now Ron, I know things have been strange since Estella's come back, but come on! Do you really know what you are saying? We only just found out where Estella was all that time – perhaps there are reasons for the way she and her Uncle have been treating each other that we are not aware of."
"You know, Ron, Hermione has a point." Harry said reluctantly. Though he knew a little more about the situation than he was letting on, he still didn't know enough to disclose any theories. It wasn't his place.
Any response Ron could have come up with was cut off by the Headmaster rising to his feet, causing a wave of silence to spread across the Great Hall as hundreds of heads put down their utensils and looked to their host expectedly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch for the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now."
From his place at the Head table, Severus Snape watched the Gryffindor Champion leave the Great Hall with renewed interest. Taking this as his cue, he rose from his chair and slipped out of the room via one of the small antechambers immediately to his left. In his wake, the stealthy Slytherin could hear Dumbledore explain away his departure to a visiting Ministry official. To anyone who asked, Severus Snape was required elsewhere in the castle to oversee the end of Tournament proceedings. To those who knew the truth, however, Severus Snape was Sirius Black's keeper.
"I must be going soft." Severus scowled to himself as he made his way down the deserted dungeon hallway that led to his private chambers. Barely ten years ago and he would have gladly handed his childhood foe a Portkey to Malfoy's favoured 'interrogation wing' and stood aside as the foolish Gryffindor leapt into certain death. Never did he conceivably believe that he would ever open up his private quarters to another Black.
"Serpensortia." Severus gave the password to his offices, before crossing through the room and repeating the process at the entryway to his quarters; almost hesitant at what he might find in the place he had once considered his sanctuary.
After the news had sunk in, Dumbledore had suggested that Sirius spend the day in Severus' quarters… perhaps one of the only places in the castle that possessed the calming mark of Estella's influence. Flooing ahead to sufficiently ward the area against unwelcome scrutiny, Dumbledore then beckoned Sirius through while Severus, as a mere tenant of the Castle, could offer little protest. Dumbledore did not want to risk either men leaving the school in pursuit of justice, and so he had actually locked them in the dungeon quarters without prejudice. Asides from the battering his pride took at the notion of being physically confined, Severus took the situation in his stride. If anything, he was glad for the excuse to monitor his unwelcome guests' activities whilst in his quarters and he had been quite reluctant to leave his guest to their own devices when he had to return to the Great Hall for the feast. That he didn't just take the opportunity to leave the school and Apparate to Malfoy was simple: Harry Potter.
As much as he despised the boy and all he stood for, Severus was bound. Dumbledore had confided in him the concern that Harry may try to leave the school to find Estella; and short of cursing the boy's stupidity, Severus knew it was his responsibility to keep that from happening. Should Harry foolishly leave the school and meet an untimely end at the hands of Malfoy, then Estella – and the rest of the Wizarding world – truly would be lost. That he stayed at the school and subtly made sure the bane of his existence did not leave was made bearable only for the fact that it was all for Estella… but as the day went on and the time his niece had been missing stretched into hours, he could not help but feel more and more conflicted.
He didn't even want to think of what was happening to her.
Sirius, on the other hand, was having an even harder time of things… the poor man beside himself with helplessness and anger. Though Severus' quarters were exponentially better appointed, just the fact of being physically confined anywhere reminded the haunted man of his time of Azkaban. That his mind was already plagued with the horrifying thought of losing his daughter, the combination of circumstances did not bode well at all, and Severus was forced to sedate the man.
As he opened the door into his quarters and stepped in, Severus couldn't help but brace himself for what state he might find his quarters in. Never in his right mind did he expect to see Sirius Black calmly sitting in Estella's chair, talking to a mirror.
'Now is hardly the time to bolster your own ego.' He thought, slipping automatically into his old role as schoolyard nemesis, but refraining from speaking his mind.
"Tonks not letting you out, either?" Sirius spoke to the mirror, apparently having missed Severus' entrance. "Feels a bit like we're in separate detentions again, doesn't it?"
To Severus' surprise, the mirror talked back.
"Just like old days." The voice, which Severus quickly recognised as Lupin's, responded sadly. "Though I can only wish the stakes were as low now as they were then."
Hovering from his place in the shadows, Severus felt as though the last piece of a long forgotten puzzle had just been put into place. 'So that's how they did it.' He realised, in reference to how the infernal duo of Potter and Black always seemed to know what the other was up to. Waiting then, for Sirius to finish his conversation, he could not help but pay mind to the ingenuity of the then school aged Gryffindors. The Slytherins, as he remembered his time as a student with less fondness, were always so occupied with concocting elaborate schemes, that they so frequently overlooked the simpler things.
"How long have you been standing there?" Sirius suddenly asked him, without turning around. The small hand mirror was now out of sight, and Severus had to question if it had even existed at all.
"I think you already know." Severus replied carefully, reminding himself not to underestimate the Gryffindor's sense of awareness again. He had not made a move since he entered.
Standing swiftly, Sirius regarded him with a curt nod before crossing the room and entering Estella's bedroom. Following at a slight distance, Severus leant in the doorway as Sirius paced the room. Though little had changed in the room since he had last set eyes on it, Severus knew immediately that Sirius had spent a lot of the afternoon in there.
"The Third Task will start momentarily." He informed Sirius, absently rubbing at his arm. Both men regarded each other with a look of anticipation, both feeling within themselves that something big was to happen before the night was through.
"There's a whole side of her that I never got to know." Sirius said forlornly, looking at how at home Severus looked in the doorway; his mind wondering at just how often the unassuming man had stood in that very spot and watched Estella play, read, or sleep. "It was staring me right in the face the entire time, but I never opened myself to it."
Without even having to ask Sirius what he was referring to, Severus nodded assertively. "Likewise." He responded in agreement, crossing the threshold of the room and making himself at home in the chair by Estella's bed.
"There are a lot of photos here that I haven't seen." Sirius observed, still pacing the perimeter of the room; his greedy eyes drinking in every trace of Estella as though immersing himself in her would cause her to leap out of the closet.
"She never truly vacated this room." Severus leant his elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed his forehead. "I doubt she ever will."
"This is her first home." Sirius admitted thickly – it had taken him a lot to say it aloud. "There will always be a piece of her here."
"I suspect she deliberately left some things in here for fear that I would turn it into a storeroom in her absence." Severus mused lightly. "She didn't appear to believe me when I told her otherwise."
"Oh I reckon she did believe you." Sirius assured the man. "Damn kid can't go anywhere without leaving an impression of herself behind. You saw what she did to my parent's house! I never thought it could be anything but darkness and evil…" his voice trailed off as he struggled to compose himself. Turning to focus his bleary eyes on one photo in particular, he changed the subject. "When was this photo taken?"
Severus rose from his chair and moved to stand at the other man's side. Taking the photo from the father's outstretched hand, he ran a finger over the glass frame, causing the moving image therein to giggle soundlessly.
"That," he said, handing the image of a very young, chocolate-faced Estella back to Sirius. "Was the first time I took her to Diagon Alley."
Seeing how happy and at ease the small child looked in the photo – which Sirius was quick to recognise as being taken outside the ice cream parlour – he looked his brother-in-law in the eye.
"Tell me about it?"
Many shared memories and drinks later found the two men sitting across from each other in the living room, engaging in what could be construed as a cordial exchange. Time flew, and inwardly, each man was silently grateful for the Headmaster's manipulations in throwing them together during such a time. Distracted, Sirius' eyes flew to Severus' piano.
"How come you waited so long to start teaching her?" He asked, gesturing towards the musical instrument.
"I was not of mind to teach earlier." Severus said cryptically. "I'd lost sight of a lot of things."
"Oh." Sirius responded, feeling somewhat confused by the man's answer, but knowing he wasn't going to get any better than that.
"Besides…" Severus said distantly. "There are certain traits in my family that I did not want to see manifest so early in Estella's development."
Sirius' memory immediately flew to his wife.
"You don't think that…" Siirus' mouth flew wide as Severus nodded. "But why?"
"I am not the right person to cultivate such ability." Severus stared into the fire, his own mind assaulted with memories of his sister. "And it was not the right time for her to learn."
"I don't know why I never thought of it before." Sirius frowned. "She loves listening to music."
"She has a good ear." Severus agreed.
"But she never practices playing." Sirius shook his head. "Her heart isn't in it…"
"Perhaps that is a blessing." Severus said. "The Headmaster knows of the possibility, and I have endeavoured to underplay the situation. It will not be advantageous for Estella to be a pawn. Especially not now."
"Albus wouldn't do that!" Sirius said defensively. "You speak of him as though he is a Chess master!"
"Isn't he?" Severus raised a brow in challenge. "Tell me, Black, are you here now by choice?"
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when the words did not come.
"My point precisely." Severus nodded in satisfaction.
"I suppose he can be a bit of a meddling old coot at times." Sirius admitted.
"Just a bit." Severus agreed smugly, before gripping his arm in pain and jumping to his feet in alarm.
"What is it?" Sirius asked hurriedly, joining his host on his feet and eyeing Severus' robed forearm with a growing sense of dread.
"Something has happened." Severus winced, reaching for his wand to cancel the block on the Floo. "You're free to go to Albus' office and wait for him while I am gone."
"Wait, where are you going?" Sirius asked. "The Mark is burning, isn't it? You're being called!"
"I must consult with Albus as to my next course of action." Severus said hurriedly, tossing on his outer cloak and securing his wand in the sleeve's holster. Before Flooing to the Entrance Hall on his way out to the Stadium, however, he turned back and added, as an afterthought. "Don't do anything foolish, Black. I'll return with word directly. I swear on your daughter's life."
Sirius nodded, a mask of cool efficiency on his face as his mind slipped back into the practiced routine of Auror response. It was as though a switch had been flicked in his mind and he was able to distance himself from the personal stakes at hand in the name of getting on with business. Though just hours ago he would have bristled and objected at Snape's unwelcome orders, he could not help but comply this time. On some level, it was almost as though the words had come from not Snape, but from his Commanding Auror… or, heaven forbid, Selina herself. Maybe it was something in the way that Severus had looked at him – with eyes so much like his wife's – or maybe it was his tone – so like an Auror's - that spurned him into submission; he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Therefore, as soon as Severus had disappeared into the Floo, Sirius followed, bound for the Headmaster's office.
When Estella awoke, she found herself in a circle, standing against her body's will, next to Malfoy, who had her in a strong body bind. The man had changed his robes, and was wearing a hood that matched those of others in the circle. They were standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to her right. A hill rose above them to their left. The outline of a fine old house on the hillside was barely visible.
The only light available was the faint flickering of wand-light around her, and the twinkling blanket of stars above. As her eyes scanned the sky, she subconsciously sought out her father's star: it's presence standing out amongst all others, filling her with an eerie state of calm. Becoming increasing aware of her surroundings, Estella began to hear voices, and as she followed the sound into the heart of the circle, Estella's heart froze. There, tied to a marble headstone, was Harry; and he was bleeding.
'…if the third task does not go as planned, you will be an integral part of tonight's festivities…or rather, your blood will.'
Lucius' words echoed in her mind as she recalled one of the last conversations she had with the man before he revealed his mark and she passed out. She then realised the implications of the situation… Harry was here! They had gotten him during the third task! There was a traitor at Hogwarts! Estella was almost too wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost missed the name of her father's framer being used. As soon as she heard it though, she turned her eyes to the horrifying image of the Voldemort incarnate and listened.
"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"
Estella sucked in a breath. It was Voldemort!
"Yes, master," moaned Wormtail, "please, master… please…"
"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…"
That the two-timing rat had managed to escape her father only to play an active role in bringing the most fearsome Dark Wizard back to life, made Estella sick to the stomach. She eyed the short, withering frame of the man who had ruined both her and Harry's lives with a burning hatred in her eyes. If not for this man, this man alone, Harry parents and her own, could be alive. Voldemort may have still risen, or never fallen; whichever way you choose to look at it, but without a traitor in their midst, the Marauders would have been infallible.
Estella's heart collapsed into her stomach when Voldemort began making his rounds of his loyal followers. Beside her, Estella could feel Lucius grab for her arm and haul her hovering form forward, so that she could be seen. Harry saw her first, and, in her bound state, she could only blink as Harry closed his eyes in defeat.
"Here we have six missing Death Eaters." Estella could hear Voldemort say as he stood in a wide gap of the circle. "Three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."
Estella's eyes narrowed. The spy at Hogwarts had to be that last person, but which of the other two referred to her Uncle? She hoped beyond hope that Sev was the 'cowardly one'.
Voldemort then detailed the workings of how Harry came to join them, and the role he'd played in his resurrection. Estella spied around for the Triwizard Cup… for surely it was a Portkey, for how else was Harry to have gotten there… and finding a glimmer of hope in the arrogantly overlooked fact that said passage back to Hogwarts was lying unattended and not too far away. She shot Harry a look of hopeful encouragement, but was disheartened when Voldemort turned his attentions to Lucius.
"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius… your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay… but might not your energies have been better directed towards finding and aiding your master?"
"I apologise, my master." Lucius said deploringly, kneeling at the horrible monster's feet and kissing his hems once more. "I was suitably preoccupied securing you a gift."
Estella's stomach did a back flip… this did not sound good. Not good at all. Harry, hearing this, looked at her in alarm, his green eyes wide and smoky in the dim haze.
"There are plenty of opportunities in the future for you to indulge your sport, Lucius." Voldemort said fiercely, preparing to curse Lucius for his presumptuous insubordination. "I spent the past thirteen years more concerned with returning to a body than I did spend yearning for a spot of Muggle-torture."
"Yeah, that's because existing as a big gust of wind doesn't exactly scare anyone." Estella snorted, not realising she had the ability to physically speak.
Voldemort turned his red eyes to her, staring at her angrily, with his slit-like nostrils in full flare. "Who is this… this… person who dare defile me!"
"Oh, Tom." Estella sighed. "Don't you remember me?"
Voldemort glared even more intensely and moved uncomfortably close to study her more closely. "That tongue of yours is familiar. Shall I tear it out?" He said malevolently, his eyes lighting in recognition as he pieced the puzzle together. "It can't be! You died! I killed all traces of you! You were reincarnated!"
"Oh hardly, Tom." Estella shot back, her tone not betraying her intense fear. Had she had control of her body at that moment she would be trembling. "A simple Glamourie and a well-timed time turner, if you'd pardon the pun."
"Who are you?" Voldemort hissed. "Lucius?"
"Estella Black, master." Lucius informed his Dark Lord with a slight twitch to his lips. "Her parents are Sirius Black and Selina Snape."
"Snape?" Voldemort appraised her carefully. "Ah, the sister who would not follow her brother's path. Lucius, whatever became of the woman?"
"She died giving birth." Lucius informed his master gleefully, giving Estella a triumphant look as she glared back, defiant.
"Let me out of this body bind Lucius and I'll wipe that bloody smirk from your face! A fair duel, Malfoy – you and me, anytime!"
"Spirited little nymph." Lucius recast the binding spell, doubling its strength. "But one who would not be able to stand on her own two feet if I released the spell, hmmm?"
"Oh my, Lucius." Voldemort said, as though seeing the child's beaten state for the first time in the dim light. "You have been busy, my friend. Tell me child, does your defiance speak for your Uncle? I can sense his mark on you, do not deny it."
"My Uncle and I had a parting of the ways." Estella spat with as much contrived hatred as she could muster. "After my father's escape from prison. I do not speak for him."
"Master, Severus was released from Azkaban at Dumbledore's request." Lucius said confidingly. "I wonder the terms of their arrangement."
"Oh please." Estella leapt to her Uncle's defence. "You're just sour because you didn't think of the tactical advantage that having someone thoroughly interwoven into the Hogwarts staff first. My Uncle has spent the past thirteen years as Slytherin Housemaster, moulding their minds and earning the trust of his foes under the mask of redemption. You can't tell me that's a less productive use of time than the actions of a pompous, uncouth idiot who is more concerned with saving public face and can't even brew potions!"
Voldemort laughed at Malfoy's expense. "The child has a point, Lucius. Child, if what you are saying is right, then perhaps I will forgive your Uncle's absence this once." He looked at her curiously. "Though I question why you would seek to defend him if you have become estranged from him."
"He raised me until my father returned." Estella said honestly. "Just because I don't want to lick your stinking boots, doesn't mean I should hate the man who does." She blinked – for she was unable to shrug as she would have liked. "Whatever gets your bag."
"Many a Wizard has died for less than the insubordination you have displayed." Voldemort hissed, his patience once again wearing thin as he levelled his wand at the child. "What reason do I have not to kill you?"
"Well…" Estella said somewhat drunkenly, inwardly suspecting that Lucius had doctored her potions with some sort of inebriating agent. "Lucy here seems to think I make a good plaything, but I think I'd chew your ear off."
"I've never broken anyone this challenging, master." Lucius said with a eager glint in his eyes.
"And you never will, Lucy boy." Estella informed him scathingly. "I will not yield."
"Oh really?" Voldemort challenged, tipping his wand under her chin and lifting her head against her will to stare into her eyes. "Is that a challenge?"
"A promise." Estella shot back, defiantly. "I'd die first."
"A pity." Voldemort shook his head. "I could have used someone with your lineage and passion on my side. Wormtail! Take her to the boy! Lucius, kindly remove the body bind; I don't think Miss Black is in the position to pose any physical threat."
Lucius removed the binding spell, and although the last round of potions she had imbibed and her brief period of unconsciousness had left her with some strength to stand, she decided to underplay her strengths and fall to the floor in a pained heap. Little did any of them know, but she had her mother's wand on her person. While it was utterly useless to her for any sort of Defence spells, if the right opportunity came along to create a diversion with some sort of charm, then she would have a invaluable trump card.
It was difficult though to remind herself that she was supposed to be physically incapacitated during the time the traitorous rat, Wormtail had his hands on her, dragging her over to the tombstone to rest against Harry's tethered form. She settled instead, for hissing insults in his ear.
"I should have let that darn cat eat you, Wormtail." She hissed in a voice so low, only he could hear. Then later, as he shoved her against the tombstone she added. "I wonder what your precious half-blood master would have to say if he found out that his most faithful servant owed a life debt to two of the enemy." At that, Pettigrew froze and glared at her almost pleadingly. In fact, his hand had found it all the way to her mouth, as though to gag her from sharing the information. Moving then to tie her up, he stopped when Voldemort told him not to.
"I want to watch her squirm." The evil git said as a reason; and Estella inwardly smirked at her apparent success in having her strength undermined.
Peter gave her another appraising look as though trying to reconcile her with the girl he knew in his past. Estella sneered at him.
"You're digging your own grave, Peter. My father will hunt you down and kill you, you know that, don't you?" She said with mock sweetness. "If you thought he was livid when you took James and Lily from him…"
"Shut up." Peter hissed, moving to stand; but Estella grabbed his silver hand weakly, causing Peter to linger for fear that the false limb may come off.
"You ain't seen nothing yet." Estella smiled faintly, chilling the gutless animagus to his very core.
"Wormtail." Voldemort called back his snivelling pet rat authoritatively.
"Oh, and another thing!" Estella hissed, grabbing the collar of the snivelling man's robes and pulling him in so that he could look in his eyes directly. "How dare you give that vile man the right to use the name given to you by the Marauders! You're a disgrace!"
"Wormtail!" Voldemort called out a little more forcefully, and Estella shoved the rat away in disgust. Then, for the benefit of the other Death Eaters, Estella began to sob.
"Oh Peter!" She cried brokenly, crocodile tears raining down her face. "How could you! I thought you were our friend!"
Seeing the look of discomfort on the morally deprived Marauder's face, Estella grinned inwardly.
Take that, you podgy rat traitor.
It was clear that the lost Marauder had a conscience… it was just that his sense of self-preservation far outstripped any sense of loyalty or honour one would normally associate with a Gryffindor.
What Voldemort did next, however, stunned Estella. He ordered Harry's bindings be removed and that the boy be given back his wand. Struggling to her feet to stand alongside Harry, although she did have to lean most heavily on the defiled grave of Voldemort's father in order to do so, Estella mumbled in Harry's ear.
"How thick can he get?" She said breathlessly. "Now we have a chance to get to the Portkey."
Harry retained a poker face, but, standing so close to him, Estella could feel his body shudder in the realisation that not all hope was lost. After he was handed back his wand, Estella defiantly held out her hand, eager to prolong things for as long as possible so that both she and Harry could plough through options in their minds.
"Where's mine?" She asked, pouting.
"You wish to duel, child?" Voldemort laughed. "Two against one." He wagged his finger. "Now that's not very fair."
"I can barely stand and won't have my own wand, and Harry is only half a grown wizard." Estella pointed out before giving Harry a sidelong look. "Sorry, Potter, no offence."
"Very well then. Lucius, do you still have Bella's wand?" Voldemort looked at the Malfoy master, who nodded, unsheathing a wand from his robes and holding it out. "Toss it to the girl." Estella caught it deftly, almost as though the wand had been called to her. "There you go, the wand of a fellow Black. How fitting."
Estella familiarised herself with the wand's length and density and flexed into a apt, but pained and stiff, duelling position. Harry did not move.
"You have been taught to duel?" No response.
"We bow to each other first" said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snake-like face upturned to them both. Estella retaliated by jerking her head forward obstinately and spitting a bogey at him in defiance. Voldemort ignored this, but turned towards Harry's continued defiance. "Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners… bow to death, Harry…"
The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow.
"I said bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand and casting a Crucio at Estella so quickly she didn't even see it coming. Beleaguered by the afternoon of torture she had already endured, Estella fell to the floor in unbelievable pain; the venom in Voldemort's curse – the power he inflicted into the spell – making it seem like all the day's injuries were reopening.
"Bow and I will remove it." Estella could hear a voice say through her screams; then a scramble of movement above her as Harry desperately moved to comply. The spell was lifted.
"Very good. And now you face me, like a man… straight back and proud, the way your father died… and now – we duel."
Before Estella could even regain her breath from the force of Voldemort's spell, Harry was writhing on the floor beside her, his body wracking under the throes of the same unforgivable curse. Fumbling the unfamiliar wand in her hand, Estella directed a shield towards the angry red beam of light that attacked Harry. The spell itself was altogether ineffective, but the surprise that she was of body to cast it at all caused Voldemort to deflect the spell and give Harry a reprieve.
Turning his attentions to her, he glared at her intrusion.
"It is time for me to do what I should have succeeded in doing twenty years ago." He said, levelling his wand at her at the same moment that Harry stood. "Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted out at precisely the same moment. When the iridescent green light did not seek to claim her, Estella pried her eyes open, expecting to see Harry, lying dead on the floor. What she saw instead amazed her: Green and Red light issuing from either wand, meeting in the middle in a burst of golden light. Estella was absently reminded of the colour of the light sabres in the Star Wars films, but quickly dismissed the comparison when she saw that both wands were vibrating… their owners gripping their wands tightly in the purchase for control as the opposing beams of light fought against each other.
And then – nothing could have prepared her for this – Estella saw Harry's feet lift from the ground. With a taxing burst of energy she leapt for his leg, holding on for all her might as the two duellers and herself were raised into the air, gliding away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father, to come to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves. Rolling away from Harry slightly as she dropped to the ground before him, Estella could hear the Death Eaters were shouting, asking Voldemort for instructions as they closed in, re-forming the circle around them, some of them drawing out their wands.
Before they could get too close, however, the golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered: though the wands remained connected, a thousand more offshoots arced high over the three of them, criss-crossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now.
"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and both Harry and Estella saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's. Estella stood and whispered words of encouragement to her friend, the boy-who-may-just-live-to-see-another-day-yet grabbing hold of his wand with both hands, making sure the golden thread remained unbroken.
"Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.
And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air… it was coming from every thready of the light-spun web vibrating around them. It was a sound both children recognised, though had heard only very rarely… it was a phoenix song…
Suddenly, something started to come out of Voldemort's wand, which was screeching and wailing in pain. A dense, smoky hand flared out of the tip of it and vanished… the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail… more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip - a great, greyish something that looked as though it was made of the solidest, densest smoke… it was a head… now a chest and arms… the torso of Cedric Diggory.
"Hold on Harry," It spoke.
Estella paled. She had not known that one of the school Champions had been killed. In the meantime, a man and woman Estella did not recognise emerged from the wand… earlier victims of Voldemort's; all three of whom began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it, whispering words of encouragement to them, and hissed threats to Voldemort.
And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand… the smoky shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at Harry…
"Your father's coming…" she said quietly. "he wants to see you… it will be alright… hold on…"
Estella stumbled back slightly in shock. "Lily?" She whispered reverently, tears coming to her eyes. Away from Harry slightly, Lily smiled down at her, her translucent glow ethereal, yet so reminiscent of the last time she had seen Lily smile like that.
"Aries?" Lily asked, evidently sensing Estella's unique magical signature. "Your mother was right!"
"Estella, actually." She corrected her Godmother coyly.
"Of course." Lily smiled knowingly before grinning almost mischievously. "I'm your fairy Godmother."
Estella stood, mouth agape, at the woman ghost's sense of humour.
"Sorry, always wanted to say that." She responded sadly, as though she regretted the circumstances that permitted her to finally say it. Casting her eyes over to the shadowy form of her husband, whom Estella had been far too engrossed in Lily to notice had arrived, Lily regarded Estella with a familiar glint in her eye. "Though it is quite fitting."
Tearing her eyes away from the sight of James whispering in Harry's ear, Estella looked at Lily in astonishment. After the day she'd had, everything that was happening at that moment seemed so surreal… and the more she saw of Lily… the same, witty, vibrant Lily she'd come to know… the more she began to wonder if she had perhaps died herself.
"I will tell you what James is telling Harry." Lily said, recapturing her attention and somehow managing to assure her that she was still very much alive and in danger. "You must be ready to run. You must find the strength to follow."
"You're going to distract them for us, aren't you?" Estella managed, her tongue heavy.
"We cannot stay any longer than that." Lily said sadly.
"You truly are my fairy Godmother." Estella acknowledged with a tone of finality. There was so much more she wanted to say… but as she looked into the ghostly green eyes of the woman, she realised just how much had gone unspoken.
"Get ready." Lily warned, before floating over towards Voldemort, who looked livid with fear. Estella didn't dare think of the sort of things the red-tempered Lily might be poisoning his ear with. She didn't have time to think as she saw a familiar rat run across her path.
Wormtail! Estella's heart leapt as she successfully winded the rat with a Impediment Jinx and knocked it unconscious with a Stunning spell. The stupid man had probably lost his bladder at the sight of James Potter's ghost and transformed in fright. She'd barely enough time to scoop up the rat and pocket it before she heard Harry scream.
"NOW!" Harry yelled, pulling his wand upwards with an almighty wrench, breaking the golden thread and destroying the golden web; leaving nothing but the lingering forms of Voldemort's victims; that were, true to Lily's word, distracting Voldemort, shielding their departure from his view.
Together, hand in hand, they ran as they had never run in their life, the force of their assault knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as they passed; headed back towards the graves which they then zig-zagged behind, the buzzing of curses flying overhead and hitting the stones. Pain, fatigue and darkness descended on Estella's mind as the energy was slowly sapped from her body, but still they pressed on, headed towards the slumped form of their Hogwarts classmate and the discarded Triwizard Cup.
"Stun them!" Voldemort screamed from behind them.
Ducking behind a stone angel epitaph, Harry pointed his wand wildly over his shoulder, bellowing out the Impediment Jinx in an effort to slow down the Death Eater's approach at the same moment that Estella used both her father's cousin's wand and her mother's wand to cast a deflective shield.
"Go. I'll cover you." She gasped. "I'm better at protective charms."
"No. We go together." Harry stressed, pulling her up. They were but ten feet away from their goal and in the haze of the moment, Estella didn't have time to argue.
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" Shrieked Voldemort as they hurdled over a tombstone and each grabbed a wrist of the unfortunate Hufflepuff; the Dark Lord but one row of graves away from them both.
"The Portkey! It's too far!" Harry groaned, pulling Estella back when she went to fetch it. "We have to touch it at the same time, otherwise only one of us…"
Harry's voice broke off as Voldemort got closer, his red eyes flaming in the darkness. He was so close that they could see his mouth curl into a smile as he raised his wand.
Looking at each other knowingly, the inspiration hitting them both simultaneously, both girl and boy levelled their wands at the Triwizard Cup and summoned it to them. Thereby, with a hand each on Cedric, and their wands pointed at the Portkey, they deftly caught either handle of the Cup at precisely the same moment.
As Estella let her cousin's tainted wand fall from her fingers in favour of receiving the cup, she could hear Voldemort's scream of fury. It was too late for him to do anything, though, as with a jerk behind their navels and a whirl of wind and colour, his two captives were already on their way back to Hogwarts, Cedric and a stunned, silver-footed rat along with them. They were going home.
End Chapter: A Long Way From Home