Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. He, and all of the characters mentioned in the book series of the same title, belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.
Warning: Half-Blood Prince spoilers.
Summary: As the Dark Lord once again rises to power, Harry Potter finds himself facing situations only found in his nightmares. The path of darkness is followed by those who have nothing to lose, but has Harry really reached that point?
Does not feature Horcrux storyline!
Dark Wings
Chapter Two – Unforgivable Acts
Death Eaters. It had been Death Eaters who had trashed the Dursley's yard. The explained the missing pieces of pottery – any curse would have partially eliminated the piece it came into contact with. Harry backed away from the window before one of the figures could spot him, and his hand tightened on his wand. He moved to his bedroom door and banged on it.
The Dursleys would pay attention. They had to pay attention. The wards wouldn't fall until midnight, but Death Eaters could be patient. They'd strike as soon as Dumbledore's protections fell, as soon as Harry no longer had to think of 4 Privet Drive as home.
Harry wasn't stupid. He knew that the four Death Eaters could easily overwhelm him. He knew that Voldemort would have sent out his most trusted and strongest followers. And Voldemort's strongest and most trusted followers all seemed to harbour strong feelings of hate against Harry. Not that Harry had any fond feelings toward any of them.
He banged on the door again before walking back across the room to look out of the window once again. One of the Death Eaters had removed his hood, and Harry was able to make out the lighter colouring of what had to be blonde hair. Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters. How the hell had he gotten out of Azkaban?
Harry groaned and ran his hands through already unruly hair, and again pounded on the bedroom door. He had no idea how Voldemort had found him – he'd thought the wards were supposed to prevent tracking spells – but he wasn't going to sit idly while Death Eaters captured him. He was satisfied to hear angry footsteps stomping up the stairs.
The bolt on the other side of the door slid back, and Vernon opened the door to glare at his nephew. "Your aunt is trying to sleep, boy!" He roared. Harry refrained from pointing out that his uncle was making more noise than Harry had been. He didn't have the time to waste on an idle argument. The wards would fall in less than 45 minutes.
"There are Death Eaters outside, Uncle Vernon," Harry said calmly. The man gave him a bewildered look. "Voldemort's supporters!" he clarified loudly. Vernon continued to stare at him, looking quite confused, and Harry glared. "Go outside then!" He dared loudly. His uncle frowned at him, and Harry glanced at the clock again. Just over half an hour before the spells expired.
"What would Voldie-whatsit's supporters be doing here?" Vernon asked. Harry was surprised to hear a hint of fear in his uncle's voice. Was the reality of the murder of Harry's parents finally dawning on him? Probably, now that his own family was in danger.
Vernon's look changed to a scowl, and then a fierce glare. "You're putting my family in danger again boy, and I won't have it!" he exploded. Harry backed away as the man's hands came at him, and he coolly brought his wand up to point at his uncle's chest. The man smirked, "You can't do anything."
Harry looked at the clock again, "Watch me," he muttered. 25 minutes to go. By the time a notice got to him concerning under age magic, he'd be of age. His uncle's eyes widened fearfully, and Vernon stepped back. Harry nodded and lowered his wand. "They won't hesitate to kill you, and I won't deny them being after me," he looked at Vernon warily as he explained.
The man looked frightened now, "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. Harry found that he actually had a small feeling of pity for his uncle. He refused to let it show though. The man didn't deserve his pity.
"Stay out of their way, or you'll discover that my parents weren't simply 'blown up,'" he snapped. Vernon paled and nodded, looking past Harry and into his nephew's room. Harry ignored him, crossed the room and dug into his trunk, pulling out the first book to connect with his hand. He quickly threw it aside. A book on the 'Cannons' certainly wasn't going to help him.
The next book he pulled out was one from the set he'd been given for the D.A. in fifth year. He filed quickly through its pages, pausing occasionally to review a spell, before throwing that to the side as well. The house shook, and there was an explosion of light outside of the window, making Harry briefly wonder how the wards had been set to work. Dark magic couldn't pass, luckily. But the wards were definitely beginning to weaken.
Harry spun to face his uncle, who was still standing in the doorway. "What are you waiting for?" Harry asked loudly. "There are murderers outside. Wake up Aunt Petunia and hide!" He was aware of his voice shaking, and of the increase of his pulse as adrenaline began to flow through his body. There was going to be a fight. Someone was likely to die.
It was 10 minutes to midnight when Vernon bolted from the doorway to wake his wife. It was 8 minutes to midnight when he had succeeded in waking both wife and son. It was 3 minutes to midnight when he finalized the locking spell on the door of the master bedroom where they had chosen to hide.
It was one minute to midnight when a fist pounded on the door, demanding entry. It was a mere 30 seconds to midnight when Harry took a position next to the cupboard under the stairs, facing the door with his wand raised, Lucius Malfoy leering in at him. The clock had chimed the twelfth stroke of midnight when Harry was forced to dodge the first curse thrown, and when the fighting began.
No words were spoken, save the occasional muttered curse, but Harry didn't need voices to recognise the four Death Eaters who had invaded number 4 Privet Drive. He'd found himself duelling Lucius Malfoy. He'd seen Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange run up the stairs. He'd been aware of the presence of Severus Snape. He'd found that his guard fell upon hearing the first screams from the upper floor, and his own had joined as he was hit with the Cruciatus curse.
The curse let up at the scream of an owl from somewhere outside. Hedwig! Lucius leered at him and backed out of the door, his eyes searching the sky and giving Harry time to recover from the torture. The screams from the upper floor continued.
A curse shot from the end of Harry's wand and hit Lucius Malfoy in the back while the man was still looking for Hedwig. The man fell to the ground, stunned. That took care of one, but what of the others? Harry winced as his aunt's screams joined those that had only been his uncle's and cousin's previously. Was Snape up there too?
He paced slowly around the main floor of the house, looking for the traitorous Death Eater. He found the man standing in the kitchen, raised his wand and shouted the first spell that came to mind, "Expelliarmus!"
The Death Eater snickered as the spell reflected off of an unspoken shield he'd cast. "Still stupid, Potter," he said tauntingly. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"At least I'm not a traitorous bastard," he snapped. The man frowned and looked down at his wand in a bored manner.
"Language, Potter," he said, sounding as bored as he appeared to be. Harry's glare increased, but Snape gave no sign that he noticed. The screams on the floor above stopped, and Harry gave a second to let his eyes flicker upward. His ears caught Bellatrix's voice cackling.
Snape stepped forward then, and Harry involuntary took a step backward. The ex-Potions Master smirked, "Frightened, Potter?" Harry scowled and made to shake his head. Snape, however, wasn't looking for a response. He raised his wand, and had cast a spell before Harry realised that he was moving. Harry again found himself on the floor, suffering under the Cruciatus curse.
Snape removed it as abruptly as he had cast it, "Pity the Dark Lord wants you whole and sane for when he kills you." Snape's voice sounded almost disappointed. Harry raised his wand, arm shaking from the excruciating pain he'd been submitted to.
He flicked his wand, aiming to stun the man. Snape snorted and the spell reflected back off of yet another shield. "Remember occlumency, Potter?" he asked idly. Harry scowled and shakily worked his way to his feet. Another of Snape's spells knocked him back to the ground almost instantly, knocking his glasses off and rendering him nearly blind. He groped around on the floor for them, wincing when the heel of Snape's boot connected with his fingers and ground them into the floor.
Harry grit his teeth against the pain as he felt two of his fingers snap under the pressure being put on them. He let out a soft whimper when Snape drew his foot back, and tried to move his fingers slowly, gaining no reaction but pain. Rodolphus Lestrange came down the stairs then, sniggering at the sight of Harry on the floor at Snape's feet.
"Lord'll want him soon, Snape. Should prolly leave," the man said, looking at the greasy haired man in front of him and ignoring Harry.
Snape raised an eyebrow, "If you wife is finished…" he said dryly. The sound of Bellatrix's cackle floated down the stairs and Rodolphus laughed raucously. Snape continued speaking only when he'd finished. "Where is Malfoy?"
"Garden –" Rodolphus managed to reply, before he was cut off by the first explosive 'CRACK!' that accompanied an Apparating wizard. Soon, the kitchen was full – Harry, though only able to count legs – thought that at least eight people had just appeared.
There was a flurry of spells cast, and Harry found himself being dragged across the room. As Snape and Rodolphus fell to the floor, Harry, though unable to see clearly, became aware of the person who was holding him.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Remus' voice asked softly near his ear. It had been the Order who had come to his rescue. Wearily, Harry held his hand up. The werewolf hissed when he saw the crumpled digits that should have been working fingers. Harry felt the adrenaline ebb from his system, and he was suddenly very aware of the pain that his body was in.
He swooned, nausea overcoming his senses, and turned to vomit weakly onto the tiles of the kitchen floor. He was aware of Remus gently stroking his back, and of voices conversing in low tones near him, but nothing more than that. Finally feeling safe, Harry's guard dropped and he slowly fell asleep.
He awoke to find that he was lying in his bed, and that it was still night. Automatically, his hand reached out to search his table for his glasses, and he was surprised to find that his hand was tightly bound in bandages. Someone's firm hand moved his back to the bed.
"Go back to sleep, Harry." Hermione. Harry blinked his eyes to try to better focus them, but Hermione's hand moved to lightly cover them.
"You're exhausted. Sleep," her tone was more commanding this time, but Harry shook his head, both refusing her words, and trying to remove her hand from his eyes.
He quickly stopped the motion – it made him painfully aware that his scar was burning. "The Dursleys…" he croaked. Hermione let out a soft sound, like a sigh, and began to gently stroke his hair.
"Sleep," she murmured, gently beginning to hum a soft tune.
Harry was almost asleep when someone burst into the room. His eyes shot open, and Hermione hissed like an angry cat. "What do you want?" she demanded loudly. Harry, still unable to properly see, strained his ears to try and hear the one who had barged in. He was surprised to hear his aunt's voice.
"Is he alright?" Petunia asked softly, so softly that Harry almost missed it. Hermione let out a frustrated groan, which was at odds with the gentle touch of the hand that was still stroking his hair.
"Of course he's not alright," Hermione snapped. "He hasn't eaten in over 24 hours, two of the fingers in his right hand are shattered, not to mention that he's exhausted and suffering from exposure to the Cruciatus curse…" she trailed off then and laid her hand back across his eyes. "Go back to sleep, Harry!"
Harry grimaced and brought his uninjured hand to bat hers' away. "Stop that," he muttered. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh while Harry tried to sit up, and finally adjusted her body so that he was leaning back against her. It surprised him at how weak he was. "Glasses?" he requested simply. Another exasperated sigh, and Harry felt his glasses being put into his hand. He brought them to his face and slipped them on. He blinked his eyes to bring the room into focus.
His aunt was still standing in the doorway, her face pale and blotchy, and her hair tousled and messy. She'd been crying. "They killed Vernon," she whispered. Harry grimaced and hung his head. He'd hated his uncle, and his uncle had hated him, but being killed by Death Eaters was no way to die.
"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. He looked up to see that his aunt had her back turned, and that she was peering out the door. He looked to Hermione, "The Order caught them?" he asked hopefully.
Hermione grimaced, "They caught Rodolphus Lestrange… Snape, Lucius Malfoy and that horrible Lestrange woman got away."
Harry nodded, he'd expected it to be that way. "My cousin?" Hermione laughed in a tone that was almost cruel.
"Still in shock. He'll be fine, eventually; once he's recovered from Cruciatus shock," she paused and then added, "Of course, he'll probably be afraid of magic for the rest of his life, but…"she trailed off, her tone of voice saying that she didn't think Dudley was any loss. Harry was surprised. It really wasn't like Hermione to be so cruel.
"He was already afraid of magic," Harry said blandly. Hermione nodded. Harry frowned then, and winced, bringing his hand to his temple as his scar began to burn again. Occlumency or not, it was easy for him to tell that Voldemort was angry that the Death Eaters had failed. The burning feeling intensified, and Harry let out a gasp of pain. Voldemort was past angry.
"Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Harry, are you alright?" Harry turned his gaze to her and shakily gave a brief nod, quickly halted by a throb of his head. It hadn't been this bad in a while. Hermione's mumble of 'Ice!' was almost lost to his ears before he found that he was again laying flat on his back.
His vision blurred, and the blur increased when someone removed his glasses. He was aware that Hermione had left, and fought his foggy, pain filled head to try and figure out who was with him. Aunt Petunia had been the only one around, his brain finally told him.
Hermione was back then, and something cold contacted with the side of his head. He shied away from the shock of the chill and softly whimpered. A pair of hands gently forced his head back, and the ice was again put to his temple. Hermione's voice was murmuring words softly, incoherently, near his ears, and the hands that had previously been restraining his head had begun fussing.
He was aware of conversation above him, and of his blankets being moved around. "He's sweating." Aunt Petunia's voice, as the blankets were tugged away. A chill swept across his body, and he reached for the blanket. It was quickly drawn back over him.
"It's a reaction to the injuries," Hermione's voice wasn't patient. "Remove the blanket if he complains he's too hot. Don't do it otherwise," she instructed. Aunt Petunia let out a frustrated sigh, no doubt directed at the instruction that she was being given by a girl the same age as her son. However, Harry's blankets didn't move again.
The room fell silent, and it struck Harry that there had to be a silencing ward on the room – he doubted that the entire house was this quiet. Perhaps it was a good thing though, he thought drowsily, it meant that he could return to sleep. And sleep he did.
Author's Corner
Chapter Two… And I know where this is going now. So it does have direction, and a complete plot-line and the like… :D
Until chapter three---
Complete – Nov. 28/2005