AN: This is a behemoth of an update so I've stuck on a bit to the previous chapter. Please read that before continuing here. It's only 2k extra but will help for continuity sake.
I've split this update in half. I didn't want to drop a 16K chapter. Next chapter is written and I'll post it asap.
CW: torture
As stunning as it was, the seaview outside the kitchen window went completely ignored as Hermione paced back and forth, wringing her hands together. The second pepper-up potion of the afternoon had given her nerves a sharpened edge, but as a result, she was even more jittery. In the small kitchen was their small rescue party. It was the best they could manage on such short notice and time was the priority.
Harry had hours at best and they already had spent valuable time. The time they used listening to Dobby's inside knowledge of Malfoy Manor had been very useful. They knew where Harry would be received if they treated him as some mockery of a houseguest, where he would be held if locked up as a prisoner and where he would be when Voldemort was ready to interrogate him.
Remus made portkeys. Ron gathered his supplies from Fred and George - decoys, darkness powder and some fireworks. Hermione wished that she had gathered more gear from their tent, but she had Harry could have never foreseen that their trip to the Lovegoods would end in having to rescue Harry from Voldemort's clutches.
She wore Harry's Invisibility Cloak over her shoulders the way that he had taken to doing as if it was a cape. She told him it was goofy, but with its weight on her shoulders, knowing what she did about the cloak's mysterious history, she felt some level of confidence. She needed it.
Harry's pouch tucked around her neck, Hermione was ready as she could be. Remus handed her a portkey which she stowed in her pocket.
"Harry's talking!" Ron shouted, slamming his deluminator on the kitchen table. They all gathered around, holding their breaths. She, Ron, Remus, Bill, Dobby and Fleur.
Hermione then heard the worst sound she had ever heard.
"If you can hear me, please get help."
Harry's voice was soft, purposefully quiet, and the fear was palpable. Hermione had never heard his voice like that, not even when he believed Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries. This was fear for himself. Fear of death.
"I'm with Luna… at Malfoy Manor…and he has just showed up."
They all shared horrified glances. There was no need to ask who 'he' referred to.
"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. "
Hermione covered her face at the breaks in his voice. He was splintering, doing his best to keep it together, but Harry was human. And he was terrified and defeated. A different voice then whispered out of the small gadget.
"Don't give up, Harry, as long as we're alive, there is hope."
At those words, Hermione's heart leapt. Luna's presence in the Manor meant that her father had been deceived and Harry's selfless sacrifice had been in vain, but she was there, giving Harry the courage he needed.
"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. "
Remus sighed, his eyes sparkling.
"But Harry, what if he hurts you?"
"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-."
It suddenly cut off. Ron went to light it, his face fixed with determination. Bill put his hand on Ron's arm, shaking his head.
"You can't apparate that way. It'll chuck us out again like what happened earlier at the Lovegoods. You bet the Malfoys will have anti-apparation charms in effect. The only way we're getting in is with Dobby."
Remus shook his head.
"Even going in with Dobby, we're still apparating blind. We need eyes on the inside, especially if Vol- er you-know-who is there."
"Dobby can go alone and report back."
"I appreciate the gesture, Dobby, but none of us should go alone. And apparating back and forth will use up your magic."
Ron angrily sighed. "If only we had some way to report back to each other. If one of us went to scout out the place under the cloak, we could say where the Death Eaters are, where Harry is… where he is."
Hermione stared at him, then looked down at the deluminator in his hand.
"Ron, we do have a way," she said quietly, then pointed at the deluminator. "But from what we know about how it works, you only hear when me or Harry say your name, so it means I will have to go and scout out."
She looked around at the other faces in the room. Her hand went up to the cloak around her shoulders.
"Really, only one person can go with Dobby to move stealthily under the cloak and I'm the best choice. If I get captured, I have no family linked to me. I'm the most expendable in this room."
Remus met her gaze gravely. "I should go-."
"No, Hermione is the best one to go first." Bill said over him, surprising Remus. "The moment you see someone hurting Harry, you'll attack them. It's the wolf in you. You can't control your protective instinct."
Remus folded his arms. "I'm not that bad."
"You are. You're even worse now you have a mate and have a baby on the way."
Hermione stepped in, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Dobby and I will find Harry and then when I'm in position, Dobby will bring you in too, undercover. We only have one cloak and I'm smaller than you… I can hide in the elf ways with Dobby."
Like all old wizard estates, Malfoy Manor's many rooms and chambers held secret passageways. Dobby knew them all and of course, he knew the narrow spaces between the main chambers where he would be expected to keep out of sight and wait for orders, spaces where he could move about unseen and not expend his elf magic moving room to room.
Logic won the argument. Not wanting to waste a single second, Hermione rushed over to Dobby. She took his small hand and let out a breath.
I'm coming, Harry. Hold on.
"We can't let him have Harry," she firmly announced, "not just because… he's who he is… but he is our Harry. Our friend… and he deserves to live and fight another day."
Remus came to her side and brought his arms around her. She looked up at him, at his tired, kind eyes, seeing the fire of the last loyal marauder, ready to fight for the son and godson of his fallen friends. Ron moved to her other side, gripping the deluminator. Her gaze fell to him.
"Find Harry."
She only nodded in response. She looked down at Dobby and squeezed his little hand.
"Let's go get Harry."
Once again, she tumbled through the strange space between spaces where apparition took place. Squeezed tightly, then rushed through the distance, the travel taking only a second. Colour swirled in her vision, then darkened, turning a dull, dank grey as she and Dobby arrived at their destination.
Immediately, Hermione knew she was in a dungeon. It was cold, squalid, and dark. Dobby let go of her hand, his wide eyes piercing the gloom.
"W-Who is there?" A faint, raspy voice croaked out from the far corner. Hermione turned to the sound, taking Dobby's hand as she edged over to where she could see a shivering form hunched against the wall, wrapped in a blanket.
She removed the cloak at once, rushing over. As she neared, the sound of her footsteps, causing the figure to unfold, turning his head of wispy grey hair, his eyes like pale moons. She froze in her step.
Ollivander.
"Mr Ollivander?" She asked, then she looked down to Dobby, tucking the robe under her arm. "Dobby, can you keep a lookout?"
"Yes, Miss Hermione."
She crouched down next to the wandmaker, doing her best to quash down her horror. He was scared of her, curling in on himself. She cast a warming charm on his blanket, hoping that it would ease his suffering a little. When she raised her wand, his pale eyes focused on it.
"V-vine wood, dragon heartstring… ten and three quarter inches…" His eyes then moved up to her. "You were so very inquisitive, so bright." He glanced around the cellar. "How have you come to be here, Miss Granger?"
Hermione was beyond astounded that he remembered her from when she visited his shop seven years ago. Especially considering how many wands he had sold.
Ollivander's face was so gaunt. Hermione sighed, glancing back at Dobby. Then her hand brushed her pocket where she had put the portkey. She had Dobby and could make her own portkeys if she had to. She looked back to Ollivander
I need to get him out of here.
"We'll get you out of here but… but first, I need to ask if you know where my friend is."
The wandmaker's pale eyes widened and he swayed as he leaned towards her.
"L-Luna? They took her… took her to her father," his hands then came up, "she's safe…"
Hermione took his hand in her warm one. "Where? Where did they take her?"
"Upstairs," he whispered, "the main hall is where He Who Must Not Be Named receives… guests. If she and her father are still here, that is where…"
That was what she needed. Hermione dug her hand into her jeans pocket, pulling out the portkey wrapped in one of Fleur's handkerchiefs.
"Luna's father brought them Harry Potter," she told Ollivander, "he handed him over to them for Luna. I need to rescue him… but first, here." She transferred her warm hand from his hand and placed the wrapped up pebble. "A portkey. It'll take you to a safe location."
She glanced over to Dobby, then cleared her throat.
"Ron, Harry's not in the cellar nor is Luna, but Mr Ollivander is here. I'm sending him to you with my portkey."
Ollivander's pale eyes gazed at her, his thin lips trembling.
"Thank you."
Hermione responded with just a nod, pulling away the handkerchief so the pebble rolled on Ollivander's calloused palm. His gnarled fingers curled around it, blue light seeping out the gaps. With a soft pop and a rushing sound, Ollivander's frail form finally left the dank space where he had been held prisoner for over a year.
She turned from the miserable corner and made her way back to Dobby, whose large green eyes were determined. His ears were pricking up as he listened through the gate.
"There are voices upstairs," he reported quietly, "Dobby is sure they are in the main hall."
"Will you take us to the place you mentioned that looks into the main hall?" Hermione asked him, throwing the Invisibility Cloak over them both. "The spot with the peephole?"
Dobby nodded, fear mingling with his determination. Hermione squeezed his hand, lending him some of her courage. Her fear was kept at bay, held back by her Gryffindor nerve. She had no choice but to be brave. Harry depended on it. If she lost her focus, they would lose more than Harry.
It would mean the war would be lost.
Emboldened by her bravery, Dobby took them back through the darkness. A split second was all it took. Dobby whisked her away from a cold, airy space into one that was equally dark, but hot and cramped. The moment her feet touched the ground, she was forced to tuck herself in. Her head flicked left to right, checking that the cost was clear. She found herself in a narrow, tight corridor, designed for creatures as small as Dobby. It was too low for her to stand, so she sat down down with her knees against her chest, doing her best to not panic in the cramped space.
Inexplicitly, she thought of Harry and how he would struggle in such a small, confined space. Dobby slipped out from under the cloak, his small hands finding something in the wall that he went to open.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see then that the walls were smooth stone, but in front of them there was a wooden hatch. Dobby unlatched it and drew it back, revealing wooden lattice. Hermione leaned towards it, glancing to Dobby, and found herself peering down into an incredibly opulent hall that looked like a dining hall. The marble floor was patterned with black and white, matching marble columns stood around the walls where wooden panelling interspersed the stone. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows across from her lookout, splashing on the floor.
The main feature of the room was the huge fireplace where a healthy fire crackled and popped. No doubt it was the reason for the stuffy temperature in the elf way. In front of the fireplace was a long, mahogany table set with many highbacked chairs. At the far end, at the head of the table, was a throne-like ebony seat, the arms fashioned as coiled serpents.
They watched out from a high vantage point, peering out from above a bookcase. From their view, they could see everything. Not only could they see all, they could hear all.
The moment Dobby slid the hatch back. Hermione gripped at the folds of the cloak. Her attention was fixed at once on one figure. All attention gravitated to him as he paced, robes of black silk fluttering around him as if caught on a phantom wind. Hermione brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle her horror as she gazed upon Lord Voldemort for the first time.
The horrifying picture that Harry had painted, all those years ago when he told her and Ron about the face under Quirrell's turban, did not do the real thing justice. His face made Hermione's blood turn to ice. No face should be so cruel, so cold… so inhuman. His face flashed as he turned sharply, illuminated in the sunlight, bone white and flat, his nostril's slits like a snake's. His eyes appeared to hold some power of their own as they blazed in his face, the colour of blood. He had no whites in his eyes, no irises, only cat-like pupils.
Lord Voldemort paced slowly, approaching where two chairs faced away from the table. Both were occupied. Hermione gasped softly as she saw Luna, her long blonde hair unkempt, hanging around her pale face. The other person was all too familiar.
Harry.
Hermione rested her head on the lattice, taking in Harry's appearance desperately. Blood marred his right cheek, a cut gashed under his eye. Other than that, he appeared unharmed, though he was tense and shaking. Her gaze fixed up onto his sweaty forehead, his scar vivid red. Around his neck was a knotted length of cloth - a gag? His arms were behind his back, bound, and his ankles were tied together. He was wearing only his jeans and shirt, his coat and jumper removed; his shoes and socks were also missing.
"I confess… I find myself disappointed." Voldemort's voice lashed through the space like a cold wind. "Like your parents before you. Like your pathetic mentor, Dumbledore. You allowed yourself to be betrayed. You succumbed to the mortal weakness of trust. "
Hermione raised her wand and muttered a quiet "Muffliato."
"Ron," she whispered, catching Dobby's attention. His large eyes were brimming with tears. "I've found Harry and Luna. They're in the main hall, but he's here. I'm hidden in the elf way."
"If you had only learned, as I have, that you can only trust in yourself, trust in power… you may have even become a worthy rival, Harry." Voldemort gave a tutting sound. Harry slowly tilted his head up into the light. If Voldemort's eyes burned with murderous intent, Harry's eyes burned with utter loathing. Hermione's heart nearly stilled at the look Harry levelled at his family's murderer. The man who had taken so much from him.
"How you cage your potential behind such meaningless morals… how you endeavour to see the good in people just like how you rage against the evil. I told you, did I not, Harry? There is no good or evil. There is only power. Only this."
Voldemort's wand was a slash as he flicked his wrist. The chair under Harry suddenly was reduced to splinters, blasting out from under Harry, who gave a yell of shock. He dropped like a stone, unable to stop his fall. He landed on his knees in the splinters.
"That is better…" Voldemort's voice was cold and cruel. "Harry Potter… where he belongs."
He snapped his pale stick of a wand down on Harry, who let out a cry as he was pushed down to the ground, forced into a position of supplication
"At my feet.
Hermione's face drained of blood, recalling the words that Harry spoke to her only days ago.
"It was the bow. He forced me to bow to him when he… went to make a show out of killing me in front of his Death Eaters."
A loud, nasty cackle brought Hermione's attention to a woman who lurked at the table where she filled up a goblet from a decanter of red wine. Her long, wavy dark hair spilled in coils down her back and shoulders, her robes a deep purple, expensive and feminine. She looked different to the half-deranged witch who chased them through the Department of Mysteries. Her features were fuller, the hallmarks of Azkaban no longer making her face mask-like and gaunt. The sharpness in her gaze, her enrapt expression, were all the more terrifying than the gleam of madness that had shone from her eyes when she cornered them those years ago.
Bellatrix was not the only Death Eater in the room. Hermione reeled as she caught sight of Draco Malfoy, standing close to Luna, dressed in black dress robes, the wand that Harry had stolen now clutched in his hand.
Silence hung in the air as the Dark Lord considered Harry at his feet and contemplated what to do with the one he had been hunting for so long. He then flicked his face up, looking over to Luna, who turned her face away at once.
Then came the laugh. High and cold. Harry flinched at the sound of it, also turning his face away. Hermione saw his hands ball into fists. He might be on his knees, face down on the floor, but he wasn't defeated. Not yet.
Voldemort levelled his wand down to Harry's face. Hermione held her breath as she saw Harry focus on it, seeing what was in front of him. His green eyes widened as he saw the wand that had killed his parents and had given him his scar.
"Crucio."
Hermione held her breath and turned her face away. Her hand jumped up to the pendant at her throat, feeling the glass, focusing on it. She tried to blot out the sounds of Harry's body thudding against the marble floor. The ringing in her ears didn't drown out the strangled sound Harry made when the curse hit, nor the heart-wrenching cries.
"Harry! No!" Luna's shout was wretched. Bellatrix was cackling, her laughs echoing around, mingling in with Harry's screams when they finally tore out from him. Hermione screwed her eyes shut, tears seeping out from her eyelids. Dobby grasped her arm. She opened her tearfilled eyes and brought her arm around the elf.
It lasted a minute until Voldemort raised his wand and Harry's screams turned into hacking coughs. Hermione dared to look out.
Harry was now curled on his side where he pulled himself into foetal position as if trying to protect his vulnerable body the best he could while bound. Voldemort laughed, a low soft laugh this time, as he stooped down to pick something off the floor. As he straightened, light glinted off the lenses. Harry's glasses.
"Draco," Voldemort didn't take his eyes off of Harry's face as he addressed the young Death Eater.
"M-my lord?"
"I believe Severus wished for something to break the morale at Hogwarts. Perhaps these will suffice." He held Harry's glasses out to Draco. "Send them to him."
Hermione's gaze was fixed on Harry as he breathed heavily on his side, his body spasming in the aftermath of the torture. Draco tentatively approached his master, pointedly not looking down at Harry on the floor as he took his glasses. He drew back and gave a stiff bow.
"As… you wish, my lord."
"Very good. And send in Wormtail, will you?" Voldemort dismissed him with a flick of his hand. Draco gave a short glance down to Harry, his face pale, as he turned away. His customary sneer was, for once, not on his face.
Voldemort turned then to Bellatrix, who at once stalked over to him, bowing low.
"My lord?" She crooned. He beckoned her over and stepped over Harry dismissively. Harry lay still.
He's conserving his strength.
Bellatrix rushed to Voldemort's side, not sparing Harry a glance. They moved to stand in front of Luna, blocking her from view. Harry moved then, sitting up.
"N-no," Harry's voice shook, "don't h-hurt her. You have me… I'm the one you want."
Voldemort responded with a flick of his wand. Harry slammed down on his back, an invisible force pinning him down.
"Agh!"
"You are in no position to make demands, Harry." Voldemort glanced over his shoulder, his red eyes ablaze. Then he looked back at Bellatrix.
"The girl refused to leave… admirable, to show such loyalty after her own father displayed such cowardice," Voldemort said.
Harry panted with exertion on the floor as he strained against the force pinning him down.
"Her blood is pure even if her allegiances are questionable," replied Bellatrix, her voice low.
Voldemort paced away, looking up to the doors out of the hall as Wormtail entered. Hermione seethed at the sight of the traitor, his head bowed as he shuffled over to his master.
"Wormtail, take the girl back to the cellar…"
Hermione gasped, her hand flying off the pendant. If he went back to the cellar, he would see that Ollivander was gone. Her presence would be given away.
"Dobby," she whispered down to the elf. He looked up at her. "Go back to Shell Cottage now and bring the others to the cellar. If Wormtail sees that Ollivander isn't there, he'll raise the alarm."
Dobby's eyes widened. He nodded.
"Dobby will go right away."
Her arm dropped onto air as the elf vanished from under the cloak, rushing off to get help so Wormtail would be met with an ambush instead of an empty cell. She looked back to the hall, seeing Wormtail at Luna's side, his metal hand sweeping through the ropes that bound her to the chair. He pulled her up.
"No…! Harry…" Luna's anguished voice tore into Hermione as she was dragged away.
"It's… okay, Luna…" Harry gasped out from the floor. "I'll live…"
Voldemort then turned to Harry, glaring down at him.
"You will, will you?"
Harry let out a broken laugh. "Until you can work out how to not make me into a martyr, yeah, I will."
Hermione's heart surged at Harry's brilliance and his bravery. As helpless as he was, he wasn't cowed. His head was turned, looking right up at his tormentor, his voice strengthening with his resolve.
"You turned a whole country against me… made me out to… be the threat," Harry struggled to speak through the restrictive force of his rage. "Murdering… me in cold blood rather goes against the point. You could easily put me in a courtroom and… make the execution legal."
Hermione reached her hand up to the lattice, breathing heavily, her heart burning with her love for the incredible man in the room before her. His mind somehow the sharpest it could be when he was in a crisis.
Bellatrix glanced curiously over to her lord, uncertain. Voldemort waited for Wormtail to take Luna out of the room before he reacted to Harry's words.
"A pity," Voldemort said eventually, "had you been trained properly, your mind honed and hardened, you could have been a worthy opponent indeed. A Slytherin mind lurks behind your Gryffindor bravado, doesn't it?"
He then flicked his wand upwards. Harry started to float upwards. He gasped and struggled, but there was nothing he could do to free himself from Voldemort's levitation spell. The air around him then shimmered and his body started to bend, moving against his will, the air around him pushing him into place.
Bellatrix then gave a delighted laugh. "The contortus, my lord?" She asked her master, her eyes dancing. Hermione knew with sickening horror then what she was about to witness. If it was causing Bellatrix to be so excited, Harry was about to be tortured properly… by an expert. This was what Remus would not be able to withstand. What Bill believed she could withstand. Her heart thumped in her chest, so loud she thought it would give her away.
"You are right, Harry. You shall cling to life a little longer… but know this. By the time I am done with you, you will be begging me to end your miserable existence."
Voldemort guided Harry's imprisoned form to the table. He was suspended in midair, his back arched, his feet pointing down. Voldemort moved his wand as if sketching in the air, manipulating whatever spell he was weaving around Harry, whose chest was rising and falling in a more rapid pace.
"But first, I will render you utterly helpless."
Harry's head then started to dip towards the table, his body forming a curve. He suddenly thrashed.
"ARGH!" Harry's voice blared out of him. His head thrashed side-to-side. His hands were clenching and unclenching, then went rigid into claws. The spell, the contortus, had his spine pushed to the limit, grinding against his spinal cord.
"If I go further… your back will break and you will lose all your mobility… permanently," Voldemort said softly as he continued to move Harry down the length of the table. Harry let loose a loud scream. Hermione whimpered.
Voldemort then turned to his lieutenant.
"Do you have his wand?"
"I do…" Bellatrix slipped her hand into the folds of her bodice and drew out a wand that was as familiar to Hermione as her own. She gritted her teeth as Bellatrix handed it over. Voldemort made sure that Harry could see. Judging from his agitated twitches, he could see well enough.
Voldemort then traced over Harry's scar with Harry's wand, causing Harry to go completely still. His eyes were fixed on Voldemort as his face moved over Harry's, only a foot apart. Harry's feet hung just above the table, his hair almost brushing the wood. His body was in a perfect arch, his back so close to snapping.
Voldemort laughed. He straightened, holding Harry's wand above his head. Harry's face bleached with horror.
"No!" He gasped.
"A wizard without his wand, Harry, is as helpless and weak as a muggle."
Snap.
Sneaking into a Death Eater base without the protective weight of Harry's Invisibility Cloak made Ron feel even more exposed as he stumbled into the dank cellar. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of human waste and damp, looking around at the miserable space. He instinctively went to light the room with his deluminator, but Bill was soon tugging him over to the wall by the gate. He looked across to where Remus and Dobby stood, flat against the wall on the other side. Remus put his finger to his lips and pointed up.
"Someone's coming," Bill whispered in Ron's ear. "Remus's hearing is keener than mine, but… there, footsteps."
Remus angled his wand, his amber eyes burning with a ferocity that Ron had only seen when he and Harry argued at Grimmauld Place, a fight that ended up with Harry being launched against a wall.
Ron gripped his wand, straining his own hearing. Then he heard it, clattering feet on stone, suddenly loud and sharp as they descended the spiral stairwell he glimpsed through the barred gate.
Remus suddenly growled, his eyes blazing, the wolf making an appearance.
" Peter… "
"...It's not too late. Help him… do the right thing."
A girl's voice drifted through the bars. Soft and airy. Ron's heart jumped at the sound. Luna. There was a rattle that sounded like keys. They all flattened against the wall, ready for the ambush. Ron waited with baited breath as the key scraped in the lock and the gate wailed open. He caught sight of a metallic hand. Shadows spilled on the grimy stone floor.
Luna stepped in, careful, rubbing her wrists as if they were sore. The man who followed wasn't much taller than she was, a man Ron recognised as his former pet rat. The moment he passed the threshold, Remus moved. He snarled as he slashed his wand. Peter Pettigrew gave a loud cry of shock as his ankle was yanked up by Remus's levicorpus. Bill quickly responded with casting silencing charms on the gate, shutting it.
"Take his wand, Ron," Remus ordered in a harsher voice than usual. Ron didn't hesitate. Remus incensed with the lingering hold of the full moon was a force to be reckoned with. He staggered forward and wrenched the wand out of Pettigrew's grip. His hold on the wand was loose.
Remus stepped up to his former friend and he cancelled the spell. Pettigrew landed on the floor with a wail. He scrambled up to his feet, backing away, his trembling face seeing Remus and the others.
"R-Remus?" He stammered out, then looked over to Ron and Bill, clearly recognising them from his years as Scabbers. "H-how?"
Remus was on him immediately. Ron heard a shocked gasp and saw Luna backing away, terrified. He went to her at once.
"Hey Luna… it's okay… it's me, Ron."
When his hand touched her arm, her face tipped towards him, pale, dirtied. Her wide eyes searched his face, twinkling with recognition. Her face split into a wide grin and she hugged him.
"I told Harry to not lose hope!"
Behind Ron, Pettigrew was cowering against the wall, spluttering with terror, his back sliding down as Remus stood over him. Ron turned and Luna slid to his side. She beamed as she saw Dobby.
"You found Hermione," she said, causing Ron to look over to her, distracted.
"Huh?"
"If you knew you could get here with Dobby, you must be with Hermione. It's how she and Harry got into Hogwarts."
Remus glanced over his shoulder at them, then looked down at Pettigrew. He raised his wand, pointing it between Peter's eyes.
"How did we ever call you our friend?" He hissed. Pettigrew turned his face away from the terrifying sight of Remus Lupin's feral rage.
"You don't understand, Remus…"
"You're right. I don't." Remus spat. "But tell me, Pete. Was it worth it?" Remus's hand snapped out and grasped Pettigrew around the neck. Bill made a motion towards Remus, as if to stop him, but he knew enough of their history to understand the crimes of the man. Ron's resolve hardened as he watched his former professor let loose his anger. His pain.
"Is what you have right now worth James and Lily's lives? Was it worth Sirius's freedom?" His hand tightened, causing Pettigrew to choke. "Is it worth Harry's?"
Ron watched in silent horror as fat tears leaked out of the traitorous rat's eyes. He raised his head, his mouth trembling as he tried to speak.
"N-no…" he admitted. "I… I thought it would be different. Like how… how it used to be when he honoured me."
Disgusted, Remus threw Peter down against the wall. He took a step back, his chest heaving as he fought to control himself. Bill moved to his side then.
"We need to find out if anyone else will come down. Numbers… how many Death Eaters are here… anything that can help us," Bill whispered to him. Luna moved from Ron's side, approaching Remus cautiously.
"Usually it is only the family and… and him," Luna told them, giving Pettigrew a glance. She turned her wide eyes up to Remus. "There may be the two Death Eaters that brought Harry and my father… if they didn't leave. I think one of them was called Selwyn."
Bill leaned around Remus to see her, then he glanced back at Ron.
"The other would be Travers then."
"Low ranking Death Eaters," Remus remarked, "young blood. They would have been too young during the last war to take the Mark." He gazed over to Luna, the hard, hateful look in his eyes softening as he met her stare.
"Thank you, Luna. I'm glad to see that you're alright, though I was told that your father intended to trade Harry for your safety."
Pettigrew stirred from his position, gazing up. Ron caught the look in his eye and stepped forwards, raising his wand and holding it over the man's face. His watery eyes snapped onto the wand, eyes widening.
"Don't even think about transforming!" Ron snarled at him. Remus returned his focus back to Peter then.
"It's only Harry's request that stays my hand, otherwise I would put you down like the rat you are, Wormtail." Remus glared, his lip twitching. "Do you not remember? How it was Harry that spared your miserable life? Remind me how you repaid his life debt?"
Peter gazed up at Remus, his mouth working mutely. Then there it was. Shame. Guilt.
It happened faster than Remus could react. The metal magical prosthetic snapped up and constricted around Pettigrew's own throat.
Ron rushed forwards, as did Bill, as Pettigrew suddenly thrashed and convulsed on the floor as his own hand squeezed the life out of him. Remus was frozen in shock. Bill was wrenching on Pettigrew's arm, trying to stop him. The man's face was red, quickly turning purplish, as the metal hand cut off the blood to his brain.
"Merlin's ass crack, he's killing himself!" Bill shouted. It snapped Remus out of his shock and he staggered forwards, moving to pry Pettigrew's metal fingers from his throat.
Peter Pettigrew's streaming, bloodshot eyes met Remus's. The hand that was in his control strained up to him and touched his face. With his final breath, he uttered two words.
"Save Harry."
A horrific crack ripped through the air as the cursed hand snapped his neck. Bill and Remus both straightened at the same time, hearing the definitive death knoll with their sharpened hearing.
Luna moved between Ron and Remus, stooping down to the dead man at their feet. Her fingers brushed over his face, closing his eyes. As she straightened, she looked around at them.
"He wished for death," she told them, "I could see it in his eyes."
Ron looked away from the cooling corpse, looking at the wand that he had ripped from his grasp, remembering how easy it had been. He swallowed.
"They… they're going to wonder what's taking him so long," Ron said haltingly, doing his best to move on from the death he had just witnessed. He looked over to where Dobby was lurking, his face in his hands. "Dobby, can you take Luna back to Shell Cottage?"
Dobby looked up and gave a small nod, coming over. Luna appeared between them.
"No, I'm not leaving." She firmly said. "You came to save Harry, yes?"
At her question, Remus and Bill looked over. Remus's expression was conflicted, hollow, the tear tracks on his face the evidence that Peter's final words had struck a chord. Remus brushed his hands on his robes and came over to Ron and Luna, nodding, his face setting into a determined, focused look. Bill joined him, meeting Ron's gaze, his chin dipping down.
"Yeah. Hermione's up there, watching." Ron dug into his pocket and drew out the deluminator. "I can hear her and Harry through this when they say my name, so-"
"Harry spoke to you," Luna said at once. "When we were up there. I thought he…" She didn't finish her sentence and instead smiled. "He was giving you information… and you came."
The deluminator in Ron's hand then lit up, taking them all by surprise. Hermione's voice then rolled out of it, causing them all to gather around and listen.
"Ron. He… he just snapped Harry's wand…
Ron stumbled back a step, sharing a look of utter horror with the others. Hermione's voice wavered. Remus growled, his eyes burning.
"But… wait… Bellatrix is leaving…" Hermione stopped talking and they all held their breaths. A heartbeat passed. Then another. Then her voice returned.
"Ron, he's sent Bellatrix to get the sword from Gringotts. He plans to kill Harry with it but it's a fake… and now he's here with Harry, alone. This is it, Ron. Our chance."
Ron lowered the deluminator and looked over to Dobby. The little elf met his gaze.
"Well, Dobby, you know what to do."
Dobby nodded and then vanished with a soft pop.
It bleached his thoughts. The pain. Harry's desperate, urgent thoughts burned away in blinding white. Nothing had come close to the splintering agony that cracked down the length of his spine. No cruciatus curse could stimulate the feeling of his spinal cord being pulled to the limit. It couldn't reach into him physically and tug on his nerves. It stimulated pain, but it wasn't crippling, not like this.
His panic set him breathless. The primary thought returned through the gaps of clarity when his nerves weren't stretched to their limit. The need for release. Escape. But he couldn't escape. His wrists were so very tightly bound at his back, his hands flailing uselessly behind him while his back creaked as he was bent mercilessly by the pressure pulling his body into the grotesque arch.
He could only move his head side-to-side, but then doing so sent a chain reaction of agony all the way to the bottom of his back.
"ARGH!" His roar of pain ripped through him, vision bleaching again.
But then the movement stopped.
"If I go further… your back will break and you will lose all your mobility… permanently." Harry peeled his eyes open, finding his view now upside down. The pull that had forced him into the agonising position had brought his head nearly touching the dark wooden table. He turned his head painfully to his left, to where two people stood, blurry in his poor vision. The tears of his pain making it worse.
Somehow, it was possible for Voldemort to look more horrific. From Harry's dreadfully prone position, he gazed up at him from upside down, his face burning as blood rushed to his head. He tried to move.
Pain blazed down from his neck to his pelvis. He screamed, his body contorted to the point of breaking. Movement, even the smallest flinch, caused him great suffering. He could only move his arms and his head. Anything else… even breathing… was torture. His entire body was trembling from the agony and he doubted, truly doubted, if he could survive any more of this.
He could break my back and there's nothing I can do about it.
Despair gripped him with cruelty equal to Voldemort's magic, but he would not weep. He could not help show his physical agony, but he wouldn't give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing his anguish. His defeat.
"Do you have his wand?"
Harry twitched his head watching the forms coming close to him, close enough for him to see. His eyes darted between their faces, his mind having to work twice as hard to make sense of his upside-down view. It was so very difficult to concentrate. Sweat was running down him in rivulets. His scar was a relentless burn with Voldemort so close to him, but the pain was a feeble tickle compared to the agony in his back, his vertebrae grinding together.
"I do…"
He blinked through the stinging sweat in his eyes, clearing his vision. He focused on it. His mind tunnelling in on the object that traded Bellatrix's feminine, ringed fingers over to the long white fingers. Harry's eyes snapped up to Voldemort's face, those merciless eyes burning into his own. His scar seared and his back spasmed.
He couldn't help the screams as Voldemort drew closer, so close he could feel his breath, cold against his clammy face. When he felt the tip of his wand touch his scar, Harry forced himself still. The pain eased enough for him to focus, for him to see his own wand resting on his scar. He bit back his cries as the torments riddling his tortured form, staring up into the face a foot above his.
Then he laughed. Harry flinched, tensing, triggering another spasm. It was the same laugh. The same one he had heard when he was only one year old, when the man leaning over him had murdered his mother. He knew… then… that Voldemort was about to take something else away from him. He had taken his family, his freedom… and now…
Harry's eyes flew wide as Voldemort raised Harry's wand above his face, inches away. Horror flushed through him. A word ripped out him, desperate.
"No!"
Not my wand… please not my wand…
"A wizard without his wand, Harry, is as helpless and weak as a muggle."
Harry shook, wringing his wrists violently, the ropes burning his skin. Tears filled his eyes as he watched helplessly, as those hands went to break.
Snap.
Harry jerked as if it had been his spine that had snapped. He let out a rattling sob as he saw the golden flash of the phoenix feather, exposed, between the snapped pieces of holly. The feather pulled free, where it sparked, the magic released. Harry gasped out agonised breaths, his heart in splinters too, as a spark dropped down onto his face. It burned him, but the pain was so miniscule compared to everything else.
His mind was darkening, taking him away to that space in the back of his mind. That quiet, dark space where he used to hide but hadn't since… not in seven years…
He didn't hear the clatter of his broken wand. He stared out, unseeing, detaching himself from his torment. Voldemort's voice was just noise to him, rushing over him like rain. Nothing mattered anymore. Not when his wand was broken…
Don't give up, Harry.
Luna's voice whispered to him.
There is always hope as long as we're alive .
Harry heaved in a breath with difficulty. He balled his hands into fists, focusing on the feeling of his fingernails digging into his palms.
I'm alive… I can't give up.
Drawing on his courage, his inner fire, he pushed through the despair and loss, and held on. He focused on the voices around him.
"Go to your vault at Gringotts. Retrieve the relic I entasked you to keep safe…"
Harry tested his mobility as they spoke, their attention briefly diverted from him. He could wiggle his legs, but the contortus held him at his feet, his hips and his shoulders. It was as if the air had solidified around him, locking around him in thick bands. He couldn't move himself from their hold, only offer feeble writhes. Only his neck and arms were free, and his wrists were bound.
"Which one, my lord?"
"The one Severus had sent to your vault. The Sword of Godric Gryffindor."
Harry's eyes darted to Voldemort and his scarlet eyes then moved onto Harry's face. Ice spread through Harry's immobilised body.
"I shall have Harry executed publicly with Gryffindor's blade. The blade is imbued with basilisk venom. Even the Boy Who Lived could not survive it." Harry looked up into Voldemort's eyes and felt, at long last, the spark of long awaited hope. He dropped his head back before Voldemort could see his thoughts unfolding.
I have time.
"I shall go at once, my Lord."
He kept his face as blank as possible as he saw Bellatrix leaving. He kept his hands clenched in fists, holding onto that small spark, nurturing it. He clung on as he started to drift down the table, gliding over the discarded fragments of his beloved wand. He kept his eyes fixed ahead to where Voldemort was bringing him. The world was a mess of colourful blurs without his glasses.
I'm never going to see those again.
But he didn't need perfect vision. He just needed his wits, his endurance, his unshakable determination to survive and the most important thing of all. His hope.
Voldemort was wrong. It wasn't a mortal weakness to trust. Harry may have put his trust in the wrong person, but he had placed his trust also with the right people. People he knew would be coming for him. Just like Luna had done. Ron… if he had heard him… he hoped would come to his aid, despite his abandonment.
Hermione.
Harry's heart burned as he thought of her. He held onto the memory of her smile, the touch of her fingers running through his hair, the laughter that was music to his ears. He kept his mind filled with thoughts of his love.
For her, he would keep fighting. He would not let Voldemort crush his resolve. He would use his heart to protect his mind, use whatever the Power He Knows Not was. And, like a good soldier, he would use his time in the camp of his enemy wisely.
Voldemort pushed the throne-like seat out and flicked his robes as he went to sit. His eyes were level with Harry's.
"I designed this spell myself." Voldemort stared intently at Harry, taking in every twitch and gasp Harry made as he endured the agony he was in.
"You… need a new hobby…"
"The brilliance lies not with the pain it causes, but with the threat it poses. Struggle too much and it will be you who causes yourself injury, not I. But I do believe it has served its purpose."
Slowly, Harry's body descended. His back screamed in pain as the muscles were forced back into action from where they were in spasm, trying to protect his back. He let out a strangled yell, but the pain was swiftly followed with relief. The ropes then snapped free from his wrists and ankles, but his freedom was brief. Whatever magic was immobilising him and moving him wrapped around his wrists and ankles, forming solid bands of air around them in cuffs. He was lowered down to the table, laid out flat, his arms pinned down at his sides. When he went to lift his head to inspect his magical restraints, a band then wrapped around his head, locking it in place. He was forced to stare upwards at the ceiling. He thrashed against his binds, dread sinking deep into his bones.
If he doesn't want me to move my head… he doesn't want me to break eye contact.
His heart was thundering in his chest. He strained against his binds, writhing, fighting to get free. He stared up at the chandelier above him, twinkling blurrily, obscured by his miserable vision. But then he caught something… movement?
Before he could check if it was a trick of the light, his vision was obscured completely by Voldemort's face. His hands fiddled with the gag around Harry's neck and went to pull it back up.
"So you don't resort to such vile displays as you did with Bella," Voldemort said as he pushed the damp cloth back into Harry's mouth. He angrily yelled as he was gagged, his shouts muffling, but his anger soon shifted into fear when the wand moved to press against his forehead, not over his scar, but in the middle.
"After all, I do not require you to speak your secrets when I can take them from your mind directly."
Unable to move his face away, he instead closed his eyes. Harry moaned as his scar lit up, their connection tearing open as Voldemort dropped his own shields. Flashes of thoughts that weren't his own swept through his mind.
"I do not require eye contact, Harry. I already have a bridge into your mind…" Voldemort said softly. His finger brushed down Harry's scar. His neck spasmed as he tried to yank his head away but couldn't against the force holding him down.
"NGH!" He shouted against the gag.
"It reacts so similarly to the Dark Marks I place on my followers…"
Harry gazed up, his thoughts beyond his control.
…and he shall mark him as his equal…
Voldemort's hand snapped around to grab his chin. Harry's eyes widened.
"What was that, Harry?" He demanded, his grip sending Harry's scar into its peak.
Clear my mind. Clear… my mind.
"Your pathetic attempts at occlumency will not keep me out. I will find what you are hiding." He pushed his wand into his head. Harry screwed his eyes shut and did his very best to prepare himself for the worst.
All the while, unseen by him, a silent observer hung above on the chandelier. Dobby.
AN: Yep, there is a mean cliffhanger. There was no other way to split it. Call it lazy writing, call it cheap. It is all those things and more. Next chapter will be up within the hour so your agony will be short-lived.
