A soft hiss, and running, running again. The branches scraped skin and threatened eyes. The fading light was sucked deeper into the shadows in a darkness that had nothing to do with the rise or set of the sun. Then into the camp, surrounded by others who had seen the light vanish. Fear, he could smell it, feel it. A crash from behind and he sprang out of the way, whirling so that his wand was at the ready. Half those present fell to the ground with a cry, cringing at the sight of his wand, his eyes. Snape pulled further away, tensing. (He's afraid, whatever has been holding us here, he fears it…) The forest shook, the trees rattled, and shattered. Another cry rose from the company, shields flew up, blocking the flung debris. Voldemort turned and braced another shield, beside him Lucius braced against his, eyes narrowed in silent and deadly challenge. Both bent under the strain, and then… the bang shook the ground as they threw their shields forward. The forest grew still, and a slow angry growl echoed back before it faded into the distance.
(Damn it all, the Aurors, the ministry, damn it all! They wait just beyond the tree line, but now there is no choice, no choice but to face them. Perhaps it won't follow us once we reach the houses, we might escape yet.) "…My lord. Do we face it?" The grey eyes were deep, and angry. (So similar, they were always so similar.)
"…No, we have not the strength of arms for a battle on both sides. We have waited long enough, and it will not be reasoned with. We go now."
The aristocratic face pulls into a look of distaste. "…All of us, cannot handle one of..?" The eyes stopped him. The red had turned deep. Feral. This was not a discussion, it was an order. Lucius drew back, lowering his eyes in an attempt to appease without sacrificing pride. "…As you wish, my lord."
Harry listened disturbed, his eyes slanted in worry. "So he won't escape? Somehow this all sounds too easy…" Lupin shook his head. "I don't like it either Harry. They don't seem to realize what they're trying to hold…" Harry smiled. "They know, but they don't understand, you're right. I want to see him, see if this could work. For now. …I know what they're trying to do Lupin. They want the location of the other bases, or they want to find the prisoners of war, the captives, the innocents. One or the other, or both. I know why it's good, but it's so much harder than that! He won't speak! And they're to frightened to get close enough to do anything! It's all pointless!"
A knock on the door. "…Harry?" Potter sighed. "Come on in Hermione." The door opened, she raised an eyebrow. "Is everything okay in here? Harry, they said you could see him." Harry got up, eyes dark now, wand clenched in hand. "…Right, tell them I'll be there."
(Dark stones, a cold hallway, and blazing green eyes.) Harry looked at the portrait in confusion. Looked behind him at the door guarded by two aurors, looked back at the portrait. The same he had seen before, cold stone walls, and a tiger with blazing green eyes. "…well, this doesn't make any sense…" he raised his wand, crossed his fingers. "Absconditious." The paint bled from the canvas and onto the floor. Regretted the decision almost instantly as the tiger roared and sprung. "Mobilicorpus!" the spell missed as the beast warped to man, and inches from each other, Harry and Voldemort locked eyes and hissed. "…Your, your Anamangus form is a tiger." The eyes narrowed. "…You came to discuss my Anamangus form..?" Harry narrowed his eyes, "I didn't say to speak!" The wand dug into the skin of Riddle's throat, the red eyes never wavered. "It's hard for me to stand here and not kill you as it is! Don't make it harder!"
A slow change, a dark, lazy smile. "…Bravo Potter. Bravo." A thwack, Harry stood glairing down, hand still clenched. "…you, mock me. How dare you mock me… how dare…" Laughter, tainted laughing. "Oh yes Potter! Tell me! Tell me how I dare! But the more you strike out… the more you want to strike again." The red bled into his eye, the color mixing. Then a flash, and Harry found himself on his back, a foul breath on his throat, saliva on his cheek. The tiger growled and opened its maw, then screamed and drew back as the hawk scraped another talon at its eye. Harry flew and landed on the portrait, gave a panicked squawk as his feathers began molding into the frame.
The tiger watched quietly until the hawk lay suspended before the stones, painted eyes wide in shock.