Harry's mind fizzed in and out of consciousness like a TV set trying to get a signal. Moments of clarity blipped through the static of his dense concussion. His head was pounding, the pain drowning out the sounds and the sensations that were bleeding through his unconsciousness.
He had clarity enough to gauge that he had hit his head hard. The last time this happened, McLaggen smacked a bludger right into his head and cracked his skull like an egg.
Someone roughly rolled him onto his back. Harry painfully opened his eyes, the light screaming into his pounding head. He could make out two shadowy figures leaning over him. He stirred, finding it very difficult to move, which was when he found his wrists bound together.
Instinct sparked, the fuse lit. Harry jerked into motion, mind re-engaged with a surge of adrenaline. His head snapped to the side where he had last seen Hermione. She was gone. The rubble and ruin was all the same, the horn had practically levelled the sitting room. The same blast had him flying back where he collided head-first into the very solid wall where he slid down in a heap, the blow to his head knocking him into a daze.
He searched desperately for Hermione before remembering that he had made his bargain. It appeared that Xenophilius had honoured his final request. Hermione, at least, would be safe.
He was a different story altogether. He scrambled through what had happened. What mistake had he made to get himself in this situation.
It flashed through his mind. What had made him hesitate, the gesture that cost him the upperhand. Mr Lovegood, spreading his arms wide, blocking Harry in the way that sparked an unknown memory in his mind. A picture of his own mother, putting herself in Voldemort's way to protect him. It had been so stark, it knocked him back, made him freeze, and made him make mistakes.
"Bloody hell… it certainly looks like Potter, alright."
One of the shadowy figures crouched down, his features sharpening as he studied Harry's face in greater detail.
"Don't think we haven't forgotten your other attempts to get your girl back, Lovegood. What's to say he hasn't blown up his own house and given us a decoy?"
"N-no… it's him… it's Potter." Xenophilius stammered out. "I have his wand." He rushed over to the two men, not looking at Harry, whose eyes widened when he saw his wand.
Harry's heart then thunked back into life.
Wand. Just the one.
As the two Death Eaters went to inspect the wand that Xenophilius had procured, Harry quickly patted his left hip. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed. Xenophilius didn't know that Harry carried two wands. Or if he did, he didn't check. He slyly shifted into the rubble, hiding the wand from view.
Think, Harry, think.
Harry looked up at the two Death Eaters. They were both low ranking. He recognised one from the Canteen in London. The name escaped him. The other he was sure was Selwyn. Both were not veterans of the last war, which meant they weren't half as dangerous. Two against one was still terrible odds.
Harry made to reach up for his mokeskin pouch. He patted at his chest with his bound hands.
I still have the portkey…
"What are you scrambling for, eh?" The one nearest to him noticed at once. Harry froze as the man stumbled over to him, his feet shifting in the rubble. He stood over Harry, leg on either side.
"Urgh, amateur work, tying the hands in front." He yanked Harry's wrists down with one hand and he grasped the mokeskin pouch with the other. While he was distracted with the pouch, Harry's mind lit up.
He had been in this position more times then he could count during his pre-Hogwarts years. Shoved on the ground, someone standing over him. He knew how to get out of the predicament.
"Amateur work is not tying my legs together."
He kicked up, striking the man right between his legs, directly in the balls. The Death Eater yowled and fell back, dropping on his rump, holding the pouch. Harry wrenched the wand from his belt and moved with almost cat-like agility as he sprung to his feet.
Levicorpus.
The Death Eater yelled as he was yanked upwards by his ankle, dropping the pouch. Harry twisted away as the other Death Eater shoved Xenophilius aside. Harry whipped his arms up, bringing them down in a wide sweep. The Death Eater jerked his arm up to shield, parrying Harry's severing charm in time. The power of Harry's spell had him stumbling back into the printing press.
Selwyn cast the counter to the snare holding him by his ankle. He crashed down painfully, cursing as he pushed himself up. Both Death Eaters took in Harry.
"Should have known you'd resort to filthy muggle tactics, Half-Blood," Selwyn snarled at him, his face red from where Harry had kicked him in the nuts.
"Surprised you aren't pressing your precious little marks like the cowards you are," Harry spat back, "relashio." The ropes binding his wrists dropped away.
Adrenaline surged through Harry as he moved into his preferred stance and moved to duel. He went on the attack.
"Sectumsempra!"
The razor sharp distortions flashed out. Xenophilius shrieked and dropped down to his knees, scrambling for the stairs to get away from the duel. The Dark curse slashed into the ground, carving chunks of rubble, and then tore into the printing press. The copies of the Quibbler bearing Harry's face and reward money were torn to shreds. The Death Eater threw up his wand, causing rubble to assemble into a makeshift wall, protecting him from the invisible blades.
"Incarcerous!"
Harry jumped aside, the ropes snapping past him. He flicked his wand at them, setting them on fire.
"Where's your mudblood tart, Potter?" Selwyn sneered at him.
Wrong thing to say.
Harry's arm snapped out, lip pulling back from his teeth, rage ignited.
"Crucio!"
Selwyn was forced to dive aside from the Unforgivable. Harry stepped in on his advantage, chaining his spells, hex after hex. Selwyn's eyes widened as he was forced on the defensive, scrambling back, just about keeping up with Harry's rapid attacks.
Light on Harry's left distracted him. He broke his rhythm, shielding. The other Death Eater threw aside his conjured wall of rubble and leapt in to join the duel.
Harry leaned on every tactic he knew as he duelled on two fronts. Instinct and reflex took over as he sunk into the combinations that he had been practising over and over for the last two weeks. His head was throbbing and pounding, blood running down his neck, his scalp bleeding heavily where he had hit his head.
"Give it up, Potter."
Harry caught a reductor with his shield and then curled his wrist, moving to disarm, but he stopped when his other opponent, Selwyn, swung up his wand. Harry went to shield instead, but there was no spell for him to parry. He dropped the shield just as something whistled behind him. Harry threw himself on the ground, but he was too slow. The leg of the desk caught him at the back of his head where he was already injured. Harry's vision flashed white and he crumpled. The desk sailed over him and smashed to the ground.
Harry went to scramble back to his feet, but his head throbbed nastily. Selwyn slammed his foot down on the small of Harry's back.
"AH!" Harry shouted in pain, trying to twist around.
"You're grounded here, Potter. No apparating. No surprise portkeys."
Harry looked up, seeing the other man, his wand outstretched.
If anything happens… if we're separated and don't have our gear…
"Expelliarmus." Selwyn snapped. Malfoy's wand immediately left Harry's hand.
We say his name.
"Ron, please… I need your help…" Harry said under his breath. Selwyn dug his foot harder into his back. "Ahh…"
"I never thought you were one for prayers, Potter…"
Harry kicked and thrashed, trying to push the Death Eater from him.
"Ron… Ron…." Harry was losing his control. "Come… please…"
He heard the crunch of debris at the side of his head and saw the wand pointing between his eyes. He was completely helpless.
"Shit, that wound doesn't look good…"
"Not our problem. They can patch him up at Malfoy Manor."
The static was fuzzing back. Harry desperately clung to consciousness, but the pounding in his head was getting worse. His eyes were rolling back and forth, his hands gripping at the rubble, but he couldn't move, not with that awful pressure grinding into his spine.
They were grabbing his wrists, putting them behind his back to tie him up again. Every movement now sent sickening pain through his head.
"Ron… hurry."
"Call him, Travers." Selwyn snapped. "Then we'll take him and Lovegood to the manor."
"No, we get him to the Manor first, call him there… the Dark Lord…"
Static began to eat up the conversation as Harry dwindled on the fluttering edge of consciousness.
"Stun Potter then and you apparate…"
"No - Luna for Potter…"
Xenophilius's shrill voice entered the exchange. Sensations were dialling back, sparks of clarity all Harry's injured brain could manage.
"Ron… please… help Hermione… help me…"
He then succumbed fully to unconsciousness when a blaze of red burned in his retinas. The static cut out.
Static of a different kind fizzed out from the speakers of the wireless. A soft buzz that yielded nothing, no news, no information, no music. Nothing.
Click. Click.
The sound of the dials cycling through code combinations did nothing to break through the static. Ron Weasley dropped his hand from the dials, hearing the low, exasperated sigh from the kitchen, well aware that he was the cause for it. Guilt squirmed in his gut, his head lifting to see Fleur's back where she stood, facing out the window as she charmed the plates clean from their lunch earlier.
The kitchen and small dining room were festively decorated. Sprigs of holly and pine hung from the wooden rafters, the sparkling fairies twinkling in the garlands that Fleur had made. She summoned the fairies with her own gifts, her Veela aura drawing the tiny creatures to her, basking in her glowing beauty. Ron had glumly watched as his older brother kissed his ethereal wife as fairies danced around them on the beach. Glum, at first, when he miserably thought of his own loneliness, but then when he saw the open joy and love on Bill's scarred face, he felt something altogether different. He felt happy for his brother.
He ceased his code entries for the day on the wireless and leaned forward to turn it off to spare Fleur more irritation.
A horrible feeling suddenly came over him. His heart plummeted. A wash of cold swept over him, making him immediately think that a dementor was close. He reached for his wand, hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. He had the unbearable feeling that something very bad had happened. Dread unlike anything he'd felt before clutched at his insides.
His pocket warmed. Knowing at once what it was, Ron lurched to his feet and grasped at his pocket, cursing at how his jeans were too tight. His clattering caught Fleur's attention. She turned as Ron pulled the deluminator out of his pocket just as he heard a heart-wrenching voice.
"Ron, please…"
It wasn't Hermione.
It was Harry. Not spitting his name out as if he had just drawn venom from a wound, his voice not tight and controlled as he kept his temper in check.
He was begging. Fleur gave a horrified gasp at the sound of Harry's pained voice.
"I need your help."
"Oh, is that… 'Arry?"
Ron didn't look at Fleur as he answered.
"Can you get Bill?"
Then there was an awful cry of pain from Harry. A cruel laugh followed it.
"I never thought you were one for prayers, Potter…"
Fleur rushed off at once, her silvery blonde hair trailing behind her.
"Bill! Come quickly!"
"Ron… Ron…. come… please …"
"Harry, we're coming… hold on," Ron whispered back, feeling as if he was going to be sick at the sound of Harry Potter begging him for help. He stumbled into the hallway, searching for his shoes. Voices were still coming out of the deluminator. As he wrenched on his boots, Harry whispered.
"Ron… hurry…"
"I'm on my way, Harry, I swear."
Bill surged into the house, door banging open. He saw Ron, then his eyes went down to the deluminator clutched in Ron's fist.
"Call him, Travers. Then we'll take him and Lovegood to the manor."
Bill had his wand out at once. The voices in the deluminator faded away as Harry didn't speak. He looked at his wife.
"We'll get to Harry and…"
"Ron… please… help Hermione… help me…"
Ron didn't hesitate, he clicked the deluminator and the orb shot out at once. He pushed through outside, Bill shouting after him.
"Ron!"
"Come on, quick! He needs us!" Ron yelled over his shoulder, his boots slamming into the sand as he tore after the orb. He didn't wait as he reached the edge of the property boundary. Bill raced towards him having made his quick farewell to Fleur, who watched them both, her face pale with horror.
The orb surged into Ron's chest and he met the determined gaze of his older brother.
"Let's go, Ron!" Bill grabbed his arm, ready.
Drawing all his concentration on the warm orb that was pulsing in his chest, Ron raised his wand and turned on the spot. The orb pulled both Weasleys towards where Harry Potter was signalling for urgent help. But something stopped them, pushing them back and they staggered out of apparition. Both dropped hard on the grass, blinking in the rain.
"Anti-apparation jinx," Bill said at once, "but it didn't push us far… look… it's the Lovegoods' place. Harry's here." He turned, leaning down to wrench his younger brother up to his feet. "Come on, no time to lose."
They tore through the gate, sprinting through the garden. The Snargaluf writhed at their presence, tendrils lashing out after them, but they had long since rushed away. Ron's heart was thundering in his chest, lurching into a rapid gallop when he saw ahead the unmistakable signs of a fight. The door had been blown to pieces.
Bill led the way, leaping into the kitchen, wand snapping out, ready to attack. Ron followed, his wand tucked in the defensive pose that Harry himself taught him during the DA lessons. Ron hurried over to the stairs where chunks of rubble and debris littered all around from the floor above. He gaped up at where there had clearly been a large explosion.
"We're too late," Bill said at once.
"No…" Ron breathed the word out, not ready to believe it. The heavy silence would not mean that he had failed his best friends again. It wouldn't mean that Death Eaters finally got their hands on Harry, somehow. He looked around the scenes of destruction, anguish making it hard to breathe.
"Homenum revelio!" He desperately cried out.
A flash returned. Bill shared a look with him. Someone was still there.
"Harry?" Ron yelled. "Hermione?"
He raced up the iron steps, jumping over the rubble. He didn't hear Bill behind him casting a patronus, sending a message down to their family residence only a few miles away. Every sense, every thought, was focused on finding his friends. Because he would not be left behind… they wouldn't go to that place where he couldn't find them… they couldn't die.
He stilled when he reached the centre of the carnage. Paper, wood and stone was strewn everywhere, furniture obliterated. His wide eyes searched the scenes of an obvious duel. What there weren't signs of were life and his spell had definitely registered someone being there. He tore his gaze from the rubble and (he gulped) blood, rushing up the stairs. A whine now droned through his thoughts, at the edge of panic.
"Harry!" He roared his name, desperate. His feet banged on the cast iron staircase as he flew up. He made it to the landing, head flicking back at forth at the shut doors. He picked the midnight blue door on his right, covered in paintings of flowers and birds. His shoulder crashed through, his gaze immediately landing on the person in the room, laid out on the bed, hair spread under her immobile head.
"Hermione!" He tore across the room, not caring about anything else. Her body was as rigid as a board and for a horrible moment, time guttered out around him as he thundered over to the bedside. Above him, Luna's mural watched on, the faces of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville smiling softly down as Ron let out a heart-wrenching sob.
But then he heard the huff of her breath, saw the rise and fall of her breast.
Quickly, Ron jabbed his wand.
"Renneverate. Finite."
Hermione's eyes snapped open, her pupils completely dilated before they shrunk down. Her eyes then focused on Ron, going wide, then her mouth fell open, horror pulling her face slack.
"Harry…" She whispered, her voice wretched. She sat bolt upright, her head snapping around, then she looked up, seeing the mural. "Oh no! No… no… please no."
"Hermione…" Ron gasped, at a loss of what to do as she jumped off the bed.
"Hermione?" Bill then appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock as he saw her. "You're safe?"
"Where is Harry?" Hermione instead rounded on Ron, grabbing his shoulders. "If you're here then he called for you…"
Ron swallowed.
"He's not here."
Hermione stared at him, her eyes searching his face, blood draining from her cheeks as the realisation dawned. She let go of him and flew off at once.
"Harry!" She screamed his name. Bill jumped aside as she ran. Ron turned back to the bed, spotting Hermione's wand. Whoever had stunned her and put her in a body-bind had left her wand… left her on purpose.
Hermione continued to call for Harry, her footsteps like the crashes of a gong as she descended down. Ron snatched up her wand and went after her.
"I heard him on the deluminator and we came as soon as we could," Ron said loudly as he followed, watching Hermione's hair fly around her as she reached the ruined sitting room. She spun around at Ron's words, her eyes finding him.
"How long ago was that?"
"We last heard him minutes ago if that," Bill said, following them both down. "We came as soon as we could."
Hermione turned around, returning to search the rubble desperately. She scrambled through the wreckage of some sort of machine. Ron came to her side, watching as she hand her hands above the ruin, her face pinched with concentration
"He's not here, Hermione." He held out her wand for her. She looked over, seeing it, and took it.
"His magic… I can feel the traces of it. He must have fought whoever came here." He noticed then that her hair was covered in plaster-dust, her clothes also dusty.
"Tell us what happened," Bill insisted as he joined them at the destroyed printing press. He looked around the scene. "Why didn't the Death Eaters take you too?"
Hermione let out the breath she was holding and looked down.
"Harry…the s-stupid selfless idiot… he said that he was the one they wanted." Ron groaned. That was Harry alright. Mr Moral Fibre himself.
"Bloody Hell, Harry…"
"Mr Lovegood… he… he told the Death Eaters that we were here."
"Luna's dad sold you out?" Ron asked, horrified.
Hermione met his gaze. "They have Luna. He stopped us from leaving so he could trade us for her, only we got into a fight and… a spell hit that stupid erumpent horn…"
Hermione was moving again, jumping over the rubble. "Harry was here." She pointed at the back wall. Then she stopped, gasping in horror, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth. She snatched something small and dark from the ground and held it up by the strings. Ron recognised it immediately. Harry's mokeskin pouch.
"Oh Harry…"
Ron and Bill rushed after her. She stayed crouched, searching the rubble. She then picked up a length of rope. When she saw the blood on the floor, her focused expression fluttered on her face, her mouth twitching. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her tears didn't fall.
Bill joined her, carefully touching the wet patch of blood. It was still wet. He brought his glistening finger to his nose and sniffed.
"Harry's blood."
"You know what Harry's blood smells like?"
Bill nodded. "A little side effect of my run in with Greyback." He looked over to Hermione. "Fresh too."
"He's… hurt," Hermione's voice trembled, but she didn't breakdown. She stood back. "And he doesn't have his portkey so… he called you."
She wheeled on Ron, grabbing him by his arms. "What did he say?" She demanded.
"He asked for help and…" Ron shivered as he remembered the desperation in Harry's voice, fear that he had never heard from Harry, not even when they faced many dangers together. "He said to help you."
"The other voice, Ron," Bill said suddenly, his eyes widening. "He said they were going to Malfoy Manor. With Lovegood."
Hermione moved over to Bill, her eyes darting around, her mind working fast. Waves of disbelief were crashing over Ron as it began to dawn on him what was happening. Harry was in terrible danger. The Death Eaters that took him weren't going to shove him in a Ministry holding cell and have him put before a kangaroo court. There was no one you-know-who wanted dead more than Harry and he was in the hands of his followers. So much more was at stake than the life of their friend. Thousands of people had their hopes on Harry's shoulders.
And Ron knew the truth. Harry was the Chosen One. If he was killed, the war was over.
Hermione reached for something around her neck, something glass and glittering. She palmed it, taking a deep breath, closing her eyes.
"I'm going after him," she said, letting go of her pendant. She pulled the pouch over her head. "I have his Cloak and we know where he is."
"Yeah, we know where he is. He's in the Death Eaters' Headquarters." Ron sidestepped in Hermione's way. Her eyes burned and she pushed around him
"I don't care. I'm not leaving him."
Bill then grasped her arm and moved in her way. "Charging into a den full of Death Eaters without a plan is suicide, Hermione."
She hesitated at that. Her attention snapped over to Bill, her chest heaving, then the tears trailed free from her eyes.
"By now, the senior Death Eaters will have Harry in their clutches…" Bill was pale, "there's nothing stopping them from summoning you-know-who."
Hermione reached into her bag, pulling out Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
"Even if you-know-who gets there, he's not going to kill Harry right away."
Ron turned to her, his mouth gaping.
"Hermione, Harry is literally his main target."
"And he has Harry exactly where he wants him," she handled the cloak in her hands, her mind fast at work, "Last time he had Harry completely at his mercy, he toyed with him and made a show out of him. Harry thinks that he would do the same again."
"Harry told you that?"
"More or less," she said, starting to pace, "I suspect he'll want to interrogate him as well. Harry is too much of a vault of information about the Order to dispense with quickly."
She was talking incredibly quickly. Ron struggled to keep up. He shook his head and put his hands up.
"So… so you're saying that… he won't kill Harry right away? The same guy who's been trying to kill Harry since he was born?"
"That was before he had the Ministry in the palm of his hand," Bill moved in, nodding, looking at Hermione. "You're right, Hermione. It makes sense that he would want to make an example out of Harry. Maybe even make it public to cripple morale. He's already made Harry the most wanted person in the country and has it printed every day that Harry's a volatile terrorist hell-bent on anarchy."
Ron properly took in the scene around them, piecing it all together. Harry had been tied up, but somehow got himself free and he tried to escape. There were marks on the ground from deflected curses, the destruction from a desperate duel. Then there were the spots of drying blood, Harry's blood.
It was real. Harry was in mortal danger.
"We have some time to break into Malfoy Manor and get to Harry. Not a lot…" She looked down at the cloak.
"Break in…?" Ron stared at her. Hermione ignored him and suddenly her face lit up.
"Damn it, Harry. You knew… that's why you were looking at me like that… you knew I'd come after you." She looked across at Bill then. "The Order… is it still active?"
He sighed. "As much as it can be without leadership but I can call Remus and Kingsley. Tonks's mum can help too. She's been working with us. She said she met you both."
Hermione gave a nod. "We've got allies too…"
Ron shook his head, trying to keep up. "Even if we call everyone, our numbers are nothing compared to theirs."
"We don't need numbers if we have surprise on our side," Hermione said to him, holding the cloak, "and we can be stealthy. How do you think Harry and I broke into Hogwarts?"
Ron blinked. "How did you break into Hogwarts?"
Hermione considered him for a moment, then looked back to Bill. "I need to make a stop at Hogsmeade and pick up our way into Malfoy Manor. Where do we rendezvous?"
Bill shook his head. "Hermione, you can't go to Hogsmeade on your own…"
"I'll go with you," Ron said at once, "I can apparate us back to Shell Cottage."
For a moment, Hermione appeared to be about to refuse. Her brown eyes swept up to his, narrowing a little, her expression guarded, but then they softened a little. She gave a small nod. Her hand went up to touch the glass pendant at her throat. Ron looked at it, seeing then that there was something inside it. Something dark.
Hermione was then immediately back to business, incredibly focused. Her level-headedness was a far cry from the hysteria that she used to display when under pressure, but that was before the war, before she had to grow up fast while on the run. This was the Hermione who made her own parents forget her existence to protect them and so she could join Harry in his conquest against you-know-who. This Hermione was the heroine bedecked on the cover of The Quibbler before the Death Eaters silenced Xenophilius, the one that blasted apart the Astronomy Tower so she and Harry could escape. The one that didn't abandon Harry when things got too hard.
She threw the Cloak over her shoulders and stepped up to Ron, her face determined, wearing a look that reminded Ron very strongly of someone else. The grim set of her jaw, the confidence, the strength. It was so much how Harry looked before he did something incredibly reckless and dangerous.
"Come on, Ron," she said, grabbing his arm, "under the cloak. We're going straight to the Hog's Head."
Ron jerked out of his shock, glancing up to his brother who was giving Hermione a very obvious look of admiration and respect.
"Ah, met Aberforth then?" Bill said, then he nodded, looking over to Ron. "Go with Hermione, Ron. I'll make stops to the Tonks house and to Kingsley's hideout, then go straight back to the cottage. I take it then that you have a way into the Manor?" Bill asked Hermione
"That's where we're going. To get Dobby."
"Dobby?"
"We'll get Dobby then meet everyone back at the cottage. Then from there, we work out how to get into Malfoy Manor, get Harry and get out." She fixed them both with her hard, determined look, every part the Gryffindor she was.
Ron met her gaze, his own lionheart kicking into action. He nodded, as ready as he would ever be.
"Let's get moving," he said. "Harry needs us and there's not a second to lose."
Loud crashes, shouts and jeers lurched Luna out from her uneasy sleep. Her eyes were open and alert at once, well-adjusted to the dark. The soft groan across from her told her that Mr Ollivander was similarly stirred from his rest. She edged out from under her blanket, leaving the cocoon of warmth and stretching her aching body.
Careful to stay quiet, Luna crept towards the barred door of their prison, looking up at their only source of light. Up to the tight, spiralling stairwell where soft daylight splashed on the stones. There were flutters of shadow, movement from above, likely the shadows of those who were causing such a racket above.
She caught the cackle of that evil woman who she knew was the witch who tortured Neville's parents into insanity. Her fingers flinched at the sound instinctively.
While neither she nor any of the other Death Eaters had hurt her, she knew that they were more than capable of it. It served them to keep her in good health. A healthy hostage. Mr Ollivander wasn't so fortunate. She had tried to nurse him as well as she could, but he was still withdrawn from his tortures.
"What is going on, Luna?" Mr Ollivander's faint voice whispered from his dark corner.
"I don't know but it doesn't sound good if they are laughing."
The voices were moving away, retreating deeper into the manor. There were more laughs, even cheers.
"Indeed… anything that is cause for their celebration is bad news."
Luna wrapped her hand around one of the bars, glancing down as she so often did at the lock. Such a simple thing barred her from freedom, a lock that she could so easily open with her wand. Without it, the lock had power over her, trapped her. The lock also had power over her father, keeping him under control.
She listened and waited, carrying out her silent observations, hanging onto every incoherent voice she heard above, gleaning the odd distant word. Then one word made it through. A word that had her giving a shocked gasp.
Potter.
"Oh no," she breathed. "No, please don't be Harry."
She drew back from the bars, hugging her arms around her, her breath leaving her in misty puffs. It was so cold in the cellar, but now she shivered from more than the chill. She watched the shadows flutter again. Someone was coming. The shadow grew more defined as someone came down the steps.
A swish of robes announced the arrival of the man, the same man that always came down to the cellar. The trembling mess of a Death Eater who looked more and more wretched with each passing day. As he shuffled to the door, keys rattling, he looked worse than Luna had ever seen him. His eyes were watery, red-rimmed, his lips quivering as he went to unlock the cellar. His gaze found her.
"Come with me," he told her. "Your father is here to take you home."
He pulled the gate open with his metal hand and stepped inside, grabbing her arm. Luna pulled away, stunned.
"Dad's here?"
"Come girl," was all he said. Luna looked over her shoulder to where Mr Ollivander was stirring, unfolding from his hunched position.
"Luna, go with him. Go home with your father."
She looked at the Death Eater, eyes wide, glancing up at the stairs behind him.
"Why are you letting me go? What has happened?"
"Just… come," he rasped, taking her wrist in his metal hand this time. He pulled her towards him roughly, her arm painfully jerking as she was jostled out of the cellar. She looked back to the dark cellar, overwhelmed, not fighting the tight, cold metal hand that tugged her up the stairs. The sunlight hurt her eyes as he took her up.
The entrance hall was just as unfriendly and decadent as Luna remembered when they first brought her to the manor. Unlike then, it was deserted. Voices were coming from a pair of double doors, currently shut. Foreboding lanced up from Luna's toes. The voices were low and rapid. She was pulled over to the doors. Her escort seized the serpent-shaped door handle. Then he hesitated. Pain flashed over his pale, quivering face. Pain, guilt… sorrow. Grief.
All very strange things for a Death Eater to experience, let alone show. He then looked back at her. For a moment, he appeared to want to say something, but instead he looked back to the door and opened it.
The opulent space was full of voices. They layered on top of each other, the sounds of multiple conversations happening at once. First she saw her father. Her heart bounced at the sight of him. He wasn't injured, but he was in his pyjamas. Two men flanked him, keeping him back.
"My Luna!" He wailed at once when he saw her. One of the men at his side gripped his arm and snarled in his ear.
"You will be reunited after our business is concluded, not before, Lovegood."
Luna searched for what the 'business' was and found it. A throng of people stood few steps away from them. Behind them, a huge fireplace was roaring with flames, keeping the room at a balmy, pleasant temperature despite the cold marble stone all around them.
Someone was on his knees, back to Luna and the door. He was either unconscious or unable to sit up on his own as he sagged against the hold of someone beside him, hand hooked under his arm. She could see black hair, dark clothes coated with a layer of dust, and blood. A lot of blood. The back of his neck was glistening with it. Behind them was a woman with pale blonde hair, kneeling too. Her wand swished and swirled above the other kneeling figures head, golden spells spiralling out, falling over the figure's head.
Pacing near them was a woman with long, dark wavy hair, her purple robe snapping at her ankles as she sharply turned, radiating impatience. The woman looked up at them as they approached, dark eyes fixing on Luna.
"Quickly, Wormtail," she snapped, clicking her fingers and pointing over to a spot in front of where the healing was taking place.
Luna shot a look up at the face of her escort. Wormtail.
She knew the nickname from Harry. He was the man who had killed Cedric Diggory. The man who had been the secret keeper to the Potters and who then betrayed them to Voldemort. Her skin prickled under his grip, revulsion twisting inside her. She had thought he had a conscience unlike the other Death Eaters, but he was the worst of them all. He had caused Harry's parents to be murdered.
As she came closer, she looked at the last figure. He stood against the wall in the shadows. His head tilted upwards as Luna neared, but then he looked pointedly away. Draco Malfoy. He focused instead on the wand that he was throwing up in the air and catching it, doing his best to ignore what was unfolding before him.
"How much longer, Cissy?" The dark-haired woman snapped at the other woman.
"Unless you wish to deliver damaged goods to the Dark Lord, Bella. Have patience ."
Luna studied the other woman. That she could talk down to a witch like Bellatrix Lestrange meant that she was important enough to do so without consequence. As she looked at her, she noticed a passing resemblance to her and Draco, who stood away from his family. She was his mother, Narcissa Malfoy.
"But we are certain that it is, Potter," Bellatrix's voice was spiced with excitement, "Draco confirmed it… he had his wand."
Tugged along by her wrist, Luna came before the restrained figure and gasped. His head was bowed down, eyes closed behind round-framed glasses. A length of cloth was wrapped around his mouth, but the gag was unnecessary. He was unconscious, deeply so. Luna could see who it was at once. With his hair short, his forehead was bare. There, vivid on his skin, was the iconic scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning. She was close enough to see how the skin puckered around the scar.
It was Harry.
Wormtail finally released Luna's wrist. She snapped the arm back to herself, nursing where the skin had bruised under his vice-like grip. Aghast, Luna looked over to her father, who had been trying to reach her, only the man gripping his arm kept him back.
"Daddy?" She asked, looking at him, then over to Harry. "What… is going on?"
"Your daddy has had quite the change of heart," Bellatrix drawled, pacing over to her. Luna cringed away from the terrifying woman, keeping her eyes on Harry. He remained totally out of it.
He's been stunned.
Luna looked over to her father, her heart feeling like a stone. His eyes were fixed on the ground.
"He gave us Potter. He betrayed him," Bellatrix stressed the word as she moved up to Wormtail, who shied away. "Your daddy… handed over the Boy Who Lived… for you."
Luna turned, pain cracking through her. She didn't want to believe it, but what other explanation was there? Why else would Harry be tied up, on his knees and unconscious, while she was being freed?
"No! Harry!" She cried out.
Bellatrix laughed and she paced up to Harry, reaching down to touch his head. He didn't respond to her touch. Narcissa then lifted her wand.
"I have repaired the damage. It is fortunate that at least one of us has knowledge of healing…"
"I… I brought you Potter," a wavery voice interrupted Narcissa. Luna turned her teary gaze over to her father, her heart splintering. The shame… the disbelief…
He betrayed Harry. My first real friend…
Her father edged towards Bellatrix Lestrange, his knees knocking together with fear as he licked his lips, his bulging eyes fixed on Luna.
"Pure luck brought us Potter. You would have never been able to take him on your own had you not accidentally blown up half your house and knocked Potter out." Selwyn sneered at him.
"I reported him… just like you told me to do if he ever showed up."
"Dad? " Luna gasped, her hand going to her breast as her heart seared with pain. "You… you didn't!"
"I had no choice," he sobbed, covering his eyes, "they would have hurt you, Luna…"
"Harry would have helped you!" She tried to move towards Harry but the hand gripping her jumper kept her in place. "Hermione too."
"Yes, what about the mudblood?" Bellatrix snapped then. "Potter never travels alone."
"He… he was alone," Luna's father moaned, "I didn't question why."
Luna knew when her father lied. She always could tell. He was doing it then, hiding his face to conceal his falsehoods. Harry hadn't been alone.
He gave them Harry but not Hermione. She's still out there.
Luna breathed heavily through the heartbreak of her father's betrayal, focusing her wits on the matter at hand.
If Hermione is out there, then she will be doing everything she can to save Harry. She would move mountains for him.
"The Dark Lord will discover where she hides when he pulls Potter's mind apart…" Bellatrix then regarded. "Whether or not we let the girl go… the decision lies ultimately with the Dark Lord."
"No! I did what I was instructed! Please… give me back my daughter!" Luna closed her eyes and looked away at the sound of her father's begging. "I won't print another edition. I… do whatever you want. Just please, Luna is all I have… she's all that matters."
He struggled out of Travers's grip, but stumbled, his desperation weakening him. He dropped to his knees, snivelling.
" Please, I'm begging you…"
Luna sucked in a sob, looking away from him.
Bellatrix laughed at the sight, stalking over to him. "And now why should we give up such a valuable hostage? Our leverage made you betray and hand over Harry Potter! What else would you do, hmm?"
He wept.
"I swear… I'll do anything."
"That's enough, sister," a softer, feminine voice spoke at Bellatrix's shoulder. Madame Malfoy approached her, the only one other than the Dark Lord who Bellatrix would listen to. "Let him have his girl. We have no need for a hostage, not when we have Potter."
Luna slowly turned her tear-filled gaze back, but instead of looking over at her father, her gaze rested on Harry. He was so close to her yet completely oblivious that she was there.
"Very well then. The Lovegoods go free." Bellatrix approached Luna and her vicious red lips curled into a smile. Her dark brown eyes roved up to the man behind her. "So it seems that the last Potter meets his end with betrayal like his parents. Poetic, almost, wouldn't you say, Wormtail?"
He didn't answer. He let go of Luna's jumper, causing Bellatrix to laugh. Her long-nailed hand curled around Luna's already bruising wrist and pulled her over towards her father. Luna looked back at Harry.
I can't leave him to face this alone! Not because of me and my father.
"No," she stated the word simply and pulled back against the witch. The surrounding Death Eaters recoiled at her defiance towards Bellatrix.
"I'm not going."
She turned and stared at the witch. Her eyes narrowed, her back straightening, as her hands balled into fists. The sobs at her back were almost like background noise as she focused completely on the woman before her, making her intentions clear in her mind, presenting them at the forefront so the Dark witch could see her determination, see that she would not abandon Harry over her father's cowardice.
Luna Lovegood might have been a Ravenclaw. Her wits were sharp, her intellect keen, but when it came to matters of her heart, of what she truly believed in, she was as brave as any of her friends. Her friends had seen the lionheart in her. Harry had seen it.
And her mother had been a Gryffindor after all.
Never had she adorned such a fierce look when she stared down Bellatrix Lestrange. Never had she been so convinced of her convictions. All she knew, all she cared about, was that her friend needed her more than her father did.
"I'm still valuable as a hostage," she told the witch, "you can control my d- father through me. Harry too. He will never risk someone else getting hurt because of him."
That's why I won't leave him to this fate alone.
Bellatrix's laugh was low and menacing as she moved up to her. She poked the tip of her wand under Luna's chin and pushed her face up, staring at her. Her finger curled down Luna's cheek.
"I admire a witch with conviction, even if ill-placed," she flicked her finger away, "for that reason, yes… very well." Bellatrix's face split into a broad smile and she spun away from Luna.
"Daddy Lovegood shall not go home empty-handed, of course. I do believe there is a reward for Potter?"
"Luna! NO!"
"Take that snivelling coward home!"
As brave as she was, Luna couldn't bear to watch as the Death Eaters who brought her father and Harry to the manor then dragged him out. She shivered as Bellatrix moved close to her and she laughed softly in her ear.
"Such a strong little raven… and a pureblood as well," she cooed, one of her hands lifting Luna's blonde locks. "The Dark Lord admires bravery…" She gripped her arms, her face so close to hers. All the while, Luna's father wailed and cried for her.
Luna closed her eyes as the doors slammed shut and his pleas cut out.
"You will bear witness to the Dark Lord's majesty," Bellatrix whispered in her ear, "few receive that honour. Few receive this honour." She brought her arms around Luna and pulled back the sleeve of her left arm. Branded on the flesh on the underside was an intricate design showing a skull with a serpent for a tongue.
She pressed her hand on the mark.
Luna flinched as multiple voices gasped in pain. The gasp at her ear was a blend of pain and pleasure. Lucius hissed as he grasped at his left arm. Wormtail moaned, pressing his arm to his chest. Draco sharply turned into the wall as if hiding his reaction.
The strongest reaction came from the person she least expected.
Harry's eyes flew open, his back arching, and he let loose a loud cry. It echoed around the room, drowning out the other sounds. With Lucius suddenly letting go of him, Harry dropped backwards, landing on his back where he then started to struggle. The scar on his forehead was no longer the pinkish hue of scar tissue, but deep, dark red. It looked angry and painful.
Bellatrix released Luna and roughly pushed her away as she rushed over to where Harry was now very conscious and yelling from under his gag. Her wand flashed red. Harry's yells then pitched up, his struggles turning into convulsions of pain. Luna pushed herself up, eyes on Harry, and dropped down next to him.
He stopped moving, his breathing erratic. At her touch, his head snapped around and his brilliant green eyes found hers. They widened in shock. His mouth moved around the knotted gag. He tugged at his restraints and all the while, his scar faded back to its normal pink colour.
He then tried to speak. Just a single word.
"Unnnha. "
Strangled as it was, she knew what he said.
Luna.
It wasn't a new experience for Harry to find himself completely helpless in the hands of his enemies. It had happened to him before, on that June night when after he witnessed Cedric's murder. He had been slammed against a headstone and bound head to foot. Half-blinded by pain, he had no defence when Wormtail drew his blood to resurrect his parents' murderer. He watched, bound and gagged, as Voldemort returned and his death eaters arrived to bear witness to the grand spectacle. Then Harry had experienced torture, humiliation, and came very close to death. But he had escaped, down to a coincidence surrounding his and Voldemort's wand… and he survived, to fight another day.
He visited the graveyard often in his nightmares. He saw again and again the glassy, vacant stare of Cedric Diggory's cooling corpse. He saw the red, merciless stare that pinned him as the torments of the Cruciatus Curse rent agonised screams out from behind his gag.
The huge difference between that nightmare and the one Harry currently found himself in was stark. He wasn't alone. A pale face filled his vision, framed with long blonde hair, her eyes wide with fear as her hands reached for him, moving over him protectively.
He gazed at her pale face. Bright as a moon. A beacon of hope in the night.
Luna.
Body trembling with the aftermath of a brief yet agonising Cruciatus Curse, his thoughts dazed and dimmed from injury and shock, he struggled to make sense of his situation. The only thing that made sense was Luna.
He attempted to say her name. Harry shook his head, trying to clear the fog. The combination of the concussion, that blistering pain in his scar and the lingering effects of the Cruciatus left him in a daze. He didn't fight when hands seized him under his armpits and drag him up onto his knees. His head lolled forwards, chin hitting his chest, vision swimming.
Luna's gasp of shock and fear caught his attention. He lifted his throbbing head, seeing a greying man taking Luna by the upper arms and pulling her back away from him. His eyes caught a flash of silver, zoning in on the man's hand. A silver hand.
Harry's mind spluttered into life. Synapses popping off in a rapid sequence. His magic unfurled and swept through him, flushing him with a burst of energy, enough to clear his vision and show him exactly who stood with him. His eyes darted around the room, identifying his enemies. His hands writhed against the tight cords that bound them behind his back.
"Wakey wakey, Potter," drawled Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry jerked upwards, realising then that his ankles were tied. His legs wiggled uselessly under him. He snarled under his gag, his hatred towards the woman molten. He spied two people that he hated, whose crimes injured him most of all. One who betrayed his family to Voldemort. The other who murdered his only remaining family.
"Harry!" Luna gasped out from where she was being held. Harry looked over to her, his heart lurching in his chest.
What happened?
He looked around the room and knew just from the decadence alone that he was in Malfoy Manor. He caught sight of Narcissa. A flick of his head over his shoulder, confirmed that the man holding him in place was Lucius Malfoy. Then he glimpsed a figure slouching in the shadows. He rolled his head away, not wanting to confirm that Draco Malfoy was witness to his defeat.
A long-nailed hand then grasped his chin, lurching a gasp of shock and revulsion out of him. Bellatrix stood over him, the woman who had tortured Neville's parents into insanity and who had murdered Sirius and laughed when she did it. He fought against her grip, causing her to leer at him, her dark eyes widening as she drank in his struggles. Lucius held him firmly at his back. She laughed, standing over him so close, her breath gusted over his face.
"You should be honoured, Potter, for there are very few matters important enough to disturb the Dark Lord over. You… you are one of them. Perhaps the most important one…"
She brought her wand to trace over his scar. Harry thrashed, horrified that she would dare to touch him there.
"A guest as important as the Boy Who Lived should receive some hospitality, do you not think, Lucius?" Bellatrix straightened. "After all, it will take the Dark Lord some time to return from his business abroad… I would not want us to be accused of being impolite hosts." Her teeth gnashed unpleasantly when she spoke, as if they were too big for her mouth. She swept away, her dark purple robes swishing and snapping at her ankles.
Harry glanced over to Luna, checking that she was unhurt. His mind was racing as his scar burned and flickered.
Voldemort's on his way. Hermione… is safe. But why is Luna here? They were going to trade me for her.
Lucius Malfoy suddenly gave Harry a rough shove, slamming him down onto the stone floor.. Malfoy straightened behind him, making a show of wiping his hands on his robes which he readjusted..
"Play your games if you desire, Bella, but do not involve me in them. I know full well the Dark Lord will not take kindly to you having your own fun with those that belong to him."
Harry drew in heavy breaths, winded from the rough treatment.
"Leave then. Go practice your simper in front of the mirror ready for when the Dark Lord arrives." Bellatrix said snidely.
"Bella," Narcissa snapped, "do not forget that your position with the Dark Lord is equally as tenuous. Do not undo all my hard work."
Bellatrix clicked her tongue impatiently and she descended back down to Harry.
"I will be careful," she said softly, making Harry's skin crawl. "How does it feel to be so helpless, Potter? So alone."
"He's not alone!" Luna shouted. Harry flinched and looked over to her, eyes wide, giving her a warning look.
"Oh yes… do you want to know why she's here, Potter?" Bellatrix's breathy voice was laced with threat and it made Harry freeze with terror.
She's here so they can control me.
"Her daddy handed you over for her and we were going to honour the trade… but she chose to stay."
Harry gazed over at Luna in horror.
Luna, what have you done?
Bellatrix flicked her head up, her expression back to one of cold malice. She snapped her fingers over towards the table.
"Wormtail, move some chairs out for our guests. We ought to have them comfortable at least while we wait for the Dark Lord… and perhaps we should have a toast to the late Harry Potter. I do hope Lucius has not made his way through the store of Goblin Wine?"
Harry could do nothing when Wormtail picked him up and dragged him backwards to the chair waiting for him. Once again, his parents' betrayer was restraining him. The high-backed chair was an improvement to the headstone in some ways, but that he had a friend tied to the chair next to him was definitely not.
Desperately, he tried to rein in his thoughts, stay focused, don't panic. His Gryffindor courage had to get him through the agonising wait. He had to control his temper for Luna's sake, remain docile while it served him. His captors were showing some restraint, more so than the Death Eaters who stunned him and brought him there in the first place. They had even healed his cracked skull. Bellatrix only gave him the briefest flash of Cruciatus, but it was enough to show him what sort of pain had broken Alice and Frank Longbottom.
Unable to do anything but sit in silence and wait for his death, Harry did his best to distract him from his despair. Only one thought was strong enough.
Hermione.
The Malfoys had left to prepare themselves for Voldemort's arrival. Bellatrix remained, choosing to sit at the seat immediately to the right of the head of the table. Minutes stretched, time lengthening, as Harry started counting his heartbeats, the countdown to his death.
Bellatrix lounged, running her finger down her Dark Mark in a longing way. After a torturous period of silence, Harry finally dared to raise his head and meet Luna's gaze. She stretched her bound hands towards Harry, trying to reach him. He glanced over to Bellatrix, and edged his arms over, elongating his fingers. Their fingers just touched. A small contact but a mighty one.
I'm not alone.
"Don't lose hope, Harry," Luna whispered. Unlike him, she wasn't gagged. He gave her a warning look. "Hermione is coming for you. I know it."
"I can hear you whispering, little Lovegood," Bellatrix drawled, moving from her seat. Harry and Luna snapped their hands back behind their chairs. "Whispering sweet nothings?" She cackled and sautered over, her hand clutching a goblet of wine. She made it over to Harry and he could smell the pungent red wine in her goblet.
She made a thoughtful sound and she placed the goblet down on the table behind them. She ran a finger down Harry's face again and he cringed, looking away.
"Your father was quite the heart-breaker, you know, Potter."
Harry growled angrily at her, his glare vicious. She just laughed at him.
"My dear Mama hoped that one of us would match with the Potter heir, but he shamed his family instead, tumbling with your mudblood slut of a mother."
The goblet behind him rattled as his magic roiled at the insult. He shouted behind his gag.
"And then here you are, their half-blood spawn, the last of the Light, so… they say," she leaned behind him, picking up her goblet, "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived…" She brought her mouth to his ear, "for not much longer." She emphasised each word. Harry glared at her, causing her to laugh.
"Oh, I wonder… what you would say to me if you had the chance?" She pushed his head back running her finger down his chin then down his throat. That she was touching him in such a suggestive way made him sick. He jerked his arms against the ropes that bound him to the chair. He wasn't going anywhere. But then her fingers dug under the cloth tied so tightly around his face and pulled it down. It gave an unpleasant wet thunk on his collar, wet with his saliva. He rolled his jaw, the joint popping a clicking.
Bellatrix stared at him, coming close to his face. Harry's revulsion, disgust and hate burned through his fear. His mouth was wet from where the knots had been pressed in his mouth and imprisoned his tongue. He closed his mouth, sucking in. His bottom lip twitched with the strength of his emotions
"Nothing to say then?" She asked, sighing, then her fingers touched his face again. "A shame… you will die before you become a man."
Harry yanked his face away. He glared at her.
"Don't fucking touch me, you inbred bitch!"
He spat in her face.
She screamed in response, throwing her goblet of wine at the floor. She was on him in a blink. The chair rocked back, slamming into the chair. She straddled him, wrenching a dagger from her robes. Her wand jabbed into the soft vulnerable flesh at his throat, blocking his windpipe.
Harry thrashed, choking. He could see the splatter of his spit on her cheek. It dribbled down.
"How dare you! Filthy half-blood."
"Careful, don't you… know your boss is just as filthy as me?" Harry croaked out, then gasped as she dug in her wand harder. Something cold touched his face. Glancing down through his eyelashes, he saw the silver blade resting on his cheek.
"I should take an eye for such insolence."
There was a bang at the door. Harry's scar suddenly blazed and he rocked his head back. As he did, Bellatrix's blade cut his skin. He hissed in a sharp breath, his eye twitching as hot blood dripped out the thin cut below his eye.
"Bella!" A woman shouted from the door. Harry squinted through the pain. Narcissa. "Get… get off him. He is here! Present yourself!"
Bellatrix gave a hiss before she climbed off Harry, leaving him breathing heavily. She wiped her face with her sleeve and then cleaned up the split wine with her wand. She then leered up to Harry, her eyes so wide, her dark irises were surrounded with white.
"I look forward to hearing your screams." She then swept away. Harry let out a breath, wincing at the new wound under his eye. Luna's eyes were wide, fearful for him. He jerked violently at his restraints, watching Bellatrix approach her sister where the pair launched into a low, whispered argument.
"Harry… what's going on?" Luna asked him, her usual airy voice now soft with fear.
"He's here, Luna. He's come to kill me," he looked over at her, "not at first. That would be too good for me. I… suspect he'll torture me a bit and then summon all his Death Eaters. He'll want an audience. Like… last time." He closed his eyes. "I won't risk you getting hurt. No matter… no matter what he does. I swear… I'll kneel at his feet if I have to."
"No, Harry… don't stop fighting. Hermione will be here."
Harry's eyes snapped opened. Hermione.
Speak his name.
He looked over to Luna, then leaned as far forward as he could. Narcissa was standing at the door, watching them. He licked at his sore lips and swallowed.
"Ron, if… if you can hear me, please get help. I'm with Luna… at Malfoy Manor," he looked over to Luna who was staring at him as if he had lost the plot, "and he has just showed up. He's likely going to use legilimency and I'll… do what I can do to prevent him, but… it's over if he gets the secret. If you find Hermione, she'll fill you in. If… if you can't get to me, I'm sorry I failed you all." He bowed his head to his chest and held in a sob.
"Don't give up, Harry," Luna whispered to him, "as long as we're alive, there is hope."
Then his scar burned. He let out a cry and gripped his hands into fists.
"Luna, whatever happens, don't bring attention to yourself. I'll protect you as best I can but promise me… promise me you'll not give him a reason to hurt you."
"But Harry, what if he hurts you?" Luna asked him. Harry gave a bitter laugh.
"Luna, I'm responsible for him being nothing more than a ghost for thirteen years and then I dared to insult him by refusing to die… multiple times. If Ron and Hermione don't come for me, then-."
Harry's words were drowned out as the doors then threw open. He raised his chin and his blood turned to ice as he met the stare that haunted his nightmares.
Lord Voldemort had arrived.
AN: I bashed this out quickly to make up for the cliffy. I know it's not much better, but help is on the way.
I made up that Luna's mum was a Gryffindor. No clue what the canon is there but it suits.
I hope clear-headed, determined Hermione is realistic enough. Like how Harry decided to read and study, Hermione picked up some of Harry's grit. They inspire each other.
I would like to make something clear. The Harry that I'm writing in this fic isn't going to become a detached killer. If you're reading and hoping he turns super saiyan and kills everyone, that's not going to happen. He has morals and he is sticking to them. I'm not changing my stance on how I've characterised Harry. Soz.
