Sacrifice Myself For You (mainpair- HP/DM)
Summary: Sorry, but, like everyone admits, my summary also sucks… well… here goes… When Harry finally enters the final showdown with Voldemort, he enters it alone. Can Draco save him from doing something stupid or will Harry die in the process of saving his two best friends? Prequel to 'Death Is Never Clearly Defined' (title subject to change) (DM/HP, RL/SB, RW/HG) (set after 6th book)
Chapter 1: Deaph and Moste Difficultas Incantare
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the leather strips tying Draco, Ron, and Harry to my bed… (cough cough)
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>>November 2, 2005
"No! I can't believe he would be that reckless!" yelled Sirius, his voice hoarse. Remus Lupin, his eyes haunted, remained silent as Sirius ranted, too choked up to speak. Typically, it was right then that Snape decided to intrude through the doorway.
He took the sight in with glance and firmly stated, "We didn't even know he was gone until the next morning."
>>Halloween Day- October 31, 2005
Harry slammed his fist into the wall of the infirmary. "MISTER POTTER! If you break that hand one more time I will make you let it heal the Muggle way! Now SIT DOWN!" Madam Pomfrey yelled shrilly, glaring at him. She turned back around and muttered "Ferula" at Snape's arm. Harry watched as bandages spun up the broken appendage and then splinted the arm.
Harry had just woken up in the infirmary in the late afternoon the day after a long fight against a group of Death Eaters. Snape was there with the Death Eaters. He had saved Harry's life. Dumbledore had shown up, from the dead; or at least that was what Harry had thought. Dumbledore had already explained that he had performed a Death Spell to fake his death (and to jolt Malfoy into the real world that he didn't actually want to be a Death Eater) and had still been alive, just in hiding. The explanation had just confused Harry even more. He had no clue what a Death Spell was.
Harry put a hand to his head and sat on the edge of one of the beds, dry-eyed when there should have been tears streaming down his face, trying to sort out all of the information swirling in his already over-taxed mind.
'Ron… Hermione…' Both of them had been captured by Death Eaters when Harry had been busy trying to fight off Lucius Malfoy. No one had thought to even tell him until the fight was over and most of the Death Eaters had Disapparated. The Order had stopped the attack with few casualties and no deaths on their side. But then Harry had fainted from a huge amount of pain from his scar. Voldemort had been happy. Extremely happy.
Harry took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. He stood up and walked out of the infirmary when Madam Pomfrey wasn't looking, but he could feel Snape's eyes drilling holes into the back of his head. Wishing he could give him the rude gesture he wanted to without being caught, he settled for cursing him in his mind badly enough that even Snape would have flinched at the suggestions. (1)
Harry walked blindly down the hallways, letting his mind think of other things than where his feet were taking him.
'Why wasn't Voldemort there? At a huge fight like that, he should have been there… Even if Voldemort was scared of Professor Dumbledore- wait… no, he already proved that he wasn't…' Harry absently stopped at an open window. From where he was standing, he could see the Quiddich field. About a dozen or so people on broomsticks were in the air, flying around, passing around a bright red ball in the lengthening afternoon. Harry turned away when their laughter reached his ears. 'Plus I doubt he would pass up any chance he could get rid of either me or Dumbledore. And why was he happy? We stopped the mission, so… Damnit… This isn't helping. I'm tal-… thinking in circles…' Harry sighed and rubbed circles with his index fingers on each temple. Then, a sudden thought pretty much smacked him upside the head.
'He was happy… because the mission didn't fail…' Harry went to hit his head on the wall, but stopped himself because he knew that if he showed up to tell the professors his suspicions, Pomfrey would throw another hissy fit about the large bump that would probably be the result. 'The whole point of that was to capture Ron and Hermione. Merlin… Why didn't I see it before!' Harry felt the hole in his stomach widen immensely. It was all his fault that they had been captured. It was always his fault. If he had killed Voldemort earlier, all those people, including Sirius, from the attacks would be alive right now. Not to mention Percy and Ginny would be alive. Voldemort had discovered soon after 6th year that Harry had dated her. She was the second to die that summer, Percy, the git that had thought Harry was mad during 5th year, was first… because he had stood between her and Voldemort.
Harry shook his head to try to clear it of the morbid thoughts. For lack of anything better to do, he headed for the library.
Harry slowly slipped 'Deaph and Moste Difficultas Incantare' off of the dusty shelf in the back of the Restricted Section and then glanced at the clock to his left. 8:17 PM. Madam Pince was sick, luckily, and her substitute (who she argued most thoroughly against because she didn't 'trust her precious books to anyone but herself') wasn't in the library (he winced for the poor woman if Madam Pince came in and the library was being unattended), so he felt pretty confident that no one would notice the choice of books that he was taking out. He had looked through about 20 different books whose titles had a possibility of being the book that he wanted, but none had even the slightest reference to what he was searching for.
Harry flipped through the old and worn pages, being careful not to do anything to it that might make Madam Pince suddenly swoop down on him (as she was known to do if she even remotely felt that her books were being mistreated). He played with the edge of the page as he skimmed through the footnotes in the beginning. 'Nothing… nothing… nothing… nothing… no-… hmm…' Harry paused and reread the note. 'It's slim, but a possibility…'
He hurriedly flipped to the page marked under the note. '245... 279... 282... Here it is… 296... That's it!' Harry excitedly read the short passage about the spell. He had nothing else to do so he figured that he might as well be working out how the bloody hell Dumbledore had made his 'death' look so real. Not to mention they had actually buried a real body… No one had figured that it wasn't Dumbledore… it even had the same magical signature as him. 'Creepily enough,' Harry added to himself. Harry noticed that the page looked to be more worn and torn than most of the rest of the book. 'Merlin, please let the whole spell be intact…' Just under the paragraph about Noloportuses (Portkeys that can't be traced back to the place they departed from), it read:
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'Death Spell': Incantation said: "Defunctus Filistrocium," Process: 'The wizard attempting the spell taps him/herself on the head and shouts incantation.'
'This spell is a heavily guarded secret that not many wizards are entrusted with having the knowledge of. The spell weaves an extremely reliable and graphic illusion around everyone within seeing distance of the caster. People/creatures that are caught in the weave will not remember the casting of the spell, for it is erased from their minds in order to cast a more believable illusion. The spell caster will then automatically be transported to a place outside of the range of the illusion where they will not be seen suddenly appearing. They will also have an illusion plac-'
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Harry slammed the book down on the table. The rest of the passage had been ripped out of the book, just as he had feared. 'Illusion placed on what!' he thought viciously. He flipped to the next page. 'Maybe someone accidentally ripped it and then stuck it in the next page…'
He saw a spell for breathing dragon fire (Tartemsempra: tap yourself on the head twice and say spell to breathe dragon's fire at will. Counter: Icemsempra) but other than that, nothing. 'Maybe the page before the spell…' Nothing. He shook the book by the spine to see if anything fell out. Nothing.
"Shit!" he snapped, earning him a glare from a nearby girl with short, curly hair. When she realized who she was glaring at, her eyes widened and she stammered an apology. Harry sighed and then grabbed the book again from when he had flung it onto the other side of the table.
He walked out of the library, trying to look inconspicuous. He stared walking faster when he noticed Madam Pince hurry into the library, coming from the opposite direction than he had turned, her nose bright red and a box of Tiff's Ultra-soft (booger/snot-eliminating tissues) clutched in her claw-like fingers. Harry coughed and then quicken his pace even more as she disappeared around the corner and into the library. Her indignant screech from finding the library unattended sent him flying down the hallway, laughing hard enough to almost make him trip on a few first-years that had not been walking fast enough down the hall.
'Poor Madam Rynn…' he though, blessing the poor woman for pretty much causing a diversion for him.
Harry stopped in one of the empty classrooms on the second floor and reread the passage again. It was just the same as when he had first read it. He flipped through the rest of the pages carefully, running the spell through his mind (Defunctus Filistrocium) and every now and then, chanting "Shit, shit, shit," under his breath. When he heard a sudden cackling above him, he jumped about three feet in the air. Luckily for him, Peeves hadn't noticed Harry yet. He hurriedly slipped back into the hall and almost ran over another group of students, first year Hufflepuffs, from what he could see. They practically run from him. 'I think Ron was right… they are cheeky midgets…' The sudden thought of Ron was painful, but he choked it back.
'Why haven't we had any word from the Death Eaters yet?' Harry suddenly realized, rubbing at his eyes. 'If they had wanted to use them as bait or something, wouldn't they have sent a ransom note?' ('like in Muggle movies,') He shook his head and searched his mind for a place that he might be able to read the book in private.
'… Duh…' Harry berated himself for not going there sooner. As soon as he reached the familiar portrait of the Trolls, he walked quickly by it 3 times, thinking hard of a quiet place to read. As usual, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, so he hurriedly opened the door.
The room was furnished similarly to the room that he had used for the DA meeting room. It had maroon furnishings, but instead of pillows and pads, there was a large overstuffed couch to sink into in front of a large fireplace with a large jar on the mantle. A large open window opened up over the lake ('strange since a window had never before appeared in the room'). There were shelves upon shelves of books on useful spells for dueling and fighting against large numbers of wizards. Also, there was a large mirror in the room, similar to the Mirror of Erised. Actually it looked like something in McGonagall's… no… since he was still alive… then it was again Dumbledore's office. Harry almost grinned at that. He was overjoyed that Dumbledore was still alive. Even at the funeral, it had taken forever to sink in, like he was going to pop up at any second, yet he never had.
His mind turning back to more prominent things in his mind, Harry sunk into the squishy chair and opened the book he had stolen from the library. Not finding anything else on the subject, he grabbed one of the books on the shelves.
The very first spell was a water freezing spell. 'O-okay… not exactly what I am looking for but it might help…' Harry looked around the room, searching for a bowl or something that he could hold water with. Surprisingly, he spotted a rather large bin that would be perfect for the job. He dragged it across the floor to the middle of the room and then said "Aguamenti," Clear water shot from the end of his wand and filled the basin in no time, so he again grabbed the book and looked at the incantation.
"Hydro Hoxymus" Harry says clearly. He sees a sheet of sparking mist shoot out of his wand and hit the water, but it only freezes a small amount of the water, and the ice isn't very thin. He melts the ice with the "Relashio" spell and then tries it again. About the third time, he gets the whole basin to freeze over, almost freezing the basin to the floor, too. The ice over the water is inches thick (he can't tell exactly how thick) but it looks thick enough to walk on. Elated with his success, he grabbed the book from the library yet again, remembering the spell for breathing dragon's fire.
Harry pushed all of the stuff in the middle of the room off to one side and then tapped his head with his wand 2 times and said, "Tartemsempra." He felt a mild tickling sensation in the back of his throat and then he took a deep breath and forced the air out of his lungs in a literal explosion. A huge blast of fire came out of his mouth and almost singed the couch, clear on the other side of the enormous room. This time, he did grin.
'And I thought that was supposed to be in the range of being hard to impossible, at least, according to that book…' He cast the counter spell, "Icemsempra," and then forced the air out of his lungs again, making sure the counter worked. Harry saw a small plume of smoke come out his mouth, but nothing else after that. 'Hermione would be proud…' He thought, his stomach worked to unclench again from the thought of his two best friends. He practiced a few other spells, but there is now way to know if some of them worked because he couldn't cast them in the circumstances that he was in at the time. The Noloportus one, while he wasn't sure why he was learning it, would be one of the spells he couldn't practice. 'I just hope I can cast them when I need to…' Harry thought solemnly. He snapped the book shut and stood there, enjoying the peace and quiet for a moment.
He looked at his watch and started to groan. 'Old habits die hard I guess,' he thought, wryly. Since he wasn't a student any longer, Harry had no reason to be back in his rooms by the 9:00 PM curfew. His watch had read 10:28 PM. Out of his pocket, he pulled the Marauder's Map. Snape and Madam Pince were still in the infirmary, Dumbledore and McGonagall in Dumbledore's office.
'I'll go to Dumbledore and see what he has in mind for saving Ron and Hermione.' Turning to the door, Harry felt a wisp of wind catch him across the nape of his neck. He shivered, and then froze. 'The window was closed…' He quickly turns to the window, and nearly has a heart attack when a large brownish owl, it's head supporting tufts of feathers that look like horns, screeched at him. There was a letter attached to his leg, so Harry tried to quickly grab it. The owl though, squawked and swiped at his arm, leaving three deep, bloody gashes. Harry went for the letter again, this time more slowly. The owl eyed his suspiciously, but allowed him to take the letter from it's pouch. It was addressed to Dumbledore, not to him. Harry glared shortly at the owl for delivering the letter to him and not to Dumbledore. But the owl just kept looking so innocent. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Sorry I startled you…" Harry whispered soothingly to it. Since he had been planning on visiting Hedwig in the Owlery later on, he had stashed some Owl Treats in his jeans pocket, so he dug a couple out and gave it a few. It nipped him sharply at first, but obviously it had been a long flight, so it accepted the Treats as an apology for startling it at first. Harry glanced down at the long gashes on his arm.
'Don't see why I'm the one apologizing…' Harry thought, slightly irritated. The owl must have followed his gaze because it turned it's eyes upon the cuts and nipped him on the finger apologetically. It seemed to have taking a liking to him, because it glided up to his shoulder when he tried to leave.
"I guess I can stay a while…" Harry smiled. The eagle owl, Harry was pretty sure that that was what it was, was pretty lovable now that he had broken the ice. It's fierce, golden gaze was already disarmed by Harry's kind gesture.
"I wonder why you delivered this to me…" Harry thought out loud. The owl looked at him innocently enough and then nibbled on his finger again, so Harry gave it another couple of treats. His gaze wandered to the letter, still clutched in his hand. The owl suddenly snatched the letter with his beak and then flew down to the floor. Harry sighed and then gave the owl a stern look, hoping it wouldn't tear the letter. As Harry bent down to reach for it, the owl flew to another spot and then switched the letter to it's clawed foot. He grabbed at the wax seal with his now free beak and tore it off the letter. Harry groaned. Then the owl flew up into rafters that hadn't been there a few moments ago and started nibbling on the edges of the now open letter. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Harry stopped almost directly below the owl and looked straight up, just as the owl let go of the letter.
Harry grabbed the opened letter in mid air. He shook the hand with the letter in it at the bird still out of reach, sitting in the rafters. He noticed a couple words of the letter, so he did a double check. It was what he had been waiting for. Silently thanking the owl as it finally flew out the window (curiously enough, after it had practically made Harry read the letter), Harry read and reread the letter. He swallowed back a moan, but then steeled himself. He had known that this was coming, just hadn't wanted to believe it. Harry straightened his back and then strode out of the room determinedly. In his rooms, he grabbed his invisibility cloak and made sure to tuck the Marauder's Map safely in his pocket. He grabbed his wand from the stand he had left it on and looked back in his room one last time.
Harry sighed and whisked the cloak over his shoulders and then pulled the hood over his head. Turning left from his room, he almost, almost, ran headlong into Remus Lupin. Harry swallowed. Lupin still looked worse for wear, his eyes sunken and his robes tattered. He had been looking worse and worse ever since Sirius's death, Harry realized. Harry gave an apologetic look at his retreating back and bit back a sigh. 'It's not going to get easier for him…'
Remus suddenly spun around, his eyes wide, looking straight at Harry. Harry shrunk back as Lupin stepped closer, still looking straight at Harry. Harry moved to the right, but Lupin didn't follow him with his eyes. He stopped a few inches from where Harry had been and looked around, but he must have dismissed what he heard because he turned back to the way he had been going a moment before and hurried around the corner. Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief, but kept it back just in case.
Harry crept his way to the stone gargoyle, but stayed around the corner, afraid that it would open at any moment and Dumbledore (who Harry was pretty sure could see through invisibility cloaks) would come out of his office with McGonagall. Harry checked the Map again and then breathed a sigh of relief. They had already left the office. Harry looked at the map again and surprisingly, saw a speech bubble next to himself on the map. It said "Sugar Quill." 'That's the kind of password he would use, too…' Harry blinked, but followed the map's advice and said the password out loud. He was rewarded when the stone gargoyle jumped aside and allowed him into the spiral staircase into Dumbledore's office.
Careful to not let himself be seen by the many (apparently) snoozing portraits, he moved swiftly over to the large book shelves on the left side of the office. In a glass, door-less cabinet next to the shelf with the Sorting Hat sitting on it, was the Triwizard Cup, sitting there innocently enough. Actually… it was a Portkey. The spell had been deactivated from the graveyard by the Death Eaters where it had transported him during 4th year, but the Death Eaters had supposedly reactivated it from their side. From the graveyard. And it would only activate for Harry.
Slowly, Harry probed the case for spells of detection. There were only a couple simple ones that would alert Dumbledore if the case was opened. Harry put a timed release on the case so that the spells would just be pushed aside for a matter of time (a spell that Hermione had actually invented not too long ago) and then grabbed the cup out of the cabinet. It was still a few minutes to 11, when the Portkey would activate, so Harry grabbed the letter, scribbled a few words on the back, and then whispered "Tima Deliberare," a spell that would wait to deliver the letter to Dumbledore. Harry set the green clock to 8:00AM and then set the dial to the next day, November 1, 2005. The letter disappeared with a pop, so Harry was confident that it would appear on Dumbledore's desk at the appropriate time the next day.
Harry heard a familiar scraping coming from the doorway where the stairway was, so he knew that the gargoyle was moving to the side. 'Never knew it was so loud,' Harry thought humorlessly. He heard multiple footsteps coming slowly but deliberately up the stairs. He checked the map. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley were coming up the staircase.
'Damnit! Ring you stupid clock!' Harry heard the doorknob on the door into the room being turned. Then, three things happened in quick succession. First, he heard a soft toll behind him, coming from the large clock behind Dumbledore's desk. Next he felt a pull from somewhere around his navel. And then, he disappeared.
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Notes:
(1) Sorry, Snape lovers, but he DID hurt Harry pretty badly when he was escaping during 6th year…