A/N: Trying to keep the update train going! Welcome to chapter 10 everyone! Please be sure to Follow and Favorite this story if you haven't already, and if you liked it, please leave me a review, I love to hear from all of you!
Chapter X: Eye to Eye
(Daphne P.O.V)
Sweat dripped down Daphne's brow, her eyes locked upon Astoria as the two circled each other. She lunged to the side and rolled just as the stunner shot from her sister's wand. Daphne couldn't help but smile. Even Daphne herself had yet to master wordless spells, but like she'd learned when they'd first joined the S.P.I.R.E, Astoria had a knack for combat that only Harry matched. Astoria wasn't Harry. Daphne was sure had Harry wanted to; he could have taken Astoria with a hand behind his back, but Harry was in a league of his own. Astoria was a prodigy in her own right.
Daphne's shield glowed with her magic, and her arms trembled from the barrage of stunners unleashed from her sister's wand. Astoria was fast; that had always been a strength of hers and one Daphne couldn't overcome. But, Daphne wasn't the type to give up. Her feet shuffled against the carpeted floor of the basement where the training room rested before she canceled her shield and dove to the ground.
"Stupefy!" Daphne said. Her bolt raced from the tip of the wand towards Astoria. Her sister only smiled and cartwheeled out of the way. Astoria's eyes glimmered; Daphne could tell that the young Gryffindor was this as nothing but a game. Her younger sister took her too lightly. Daphne may not have been a combat type, but she was not to be underestimated.
Daphne conjured a geyser from the tip of her wand and forced it into the form of a serpent. Astoria grinned at the aquatic dragon-like beast, "Hypocrite, so much for taking it easy. You do remember this is rehabilitation practice, right?"
"Shouldn't have taunted me then," Daphne replied with a grin of her own. With a whip of her wand, the serpent raced towards Astoria. Even in the distance, Daphne watched the way Astoria's eyes changed colors through her study of her spell before she dove beneath the serpent's strike. Astoria rolled quickly back to her feet and cast a bombardment spell. The raven-haired girl didn't let a single one of her movements go to waste.
"She's quite good," Daphne heard Thatcher whisper to Mad-Eye, who'd agreed to supervise the rehabilitation.
"She was Potter's first student," Moody said, his voice like gravel in his throat, "I'd expect nothing less from her."
Daphne spun her wand and quickly gathered the blown apart water. The sudden recovery of her spell, brought a nervous grin to Astoria's face as she jumped back from the pillar of water that crashed into the ground where she stood. The water-made serpent towered over Astoria but the Astoria didn't show the slightest glimmer of true concern. It was yet another thing she noticed her sister and boyfriend shared, confidence. The idea that no matter how bleak something looked, they'd find a way out of it. To Daphne's concern, they tended to be right most of the time.
Her snake's mouth opened at her command, and, at her will, bullets of water flew from the open orifice. Astoria jumped and rolled. She dodged her bullets like they were bludgers with a seeker-like grace. Then, suddenly, Astoria stopped. Astoria held her wand firmly in her palm before a jet of fire erupted from the tip.
To be able to conjure this much fire, Daphne thought with a creased brow; it can't be easy. Astoria, don't push yourself so hard. Though she wasn't the best example to follow. Daphne had learned the hard way that she hated confinement. Her recovery had lasted longer than it should have, but the snake's venom was new to Dr. Thatcher and had taken a while to brew a complete anti-venom. She'd finally been given a chance to move, and though it exhausted her, Daphne wanted to push her opportunity to the limit, and only Astoria had the time to help.
Steam clouded the training hall, and Daphne's eyes shifted from side to side, desperate to spot the raven-haired witch. Where? From where will she- Daphne's thought died at the cool touch of wood to her neck. "Looking for me?" Astoria said warmly.
Daphne dropped her wand, and Astoria lowered hers. She's incredible, Daphne relented. She took back her wand, and Moody cleared the steam from the room with a bang of his staff. Astoria panted for air. Her little sister had won the spar but looked far worse than she did. "Rule number one of Harry Potter's training, always keep moving. You should keep that in mind too."
Astoria clenched her chest and gasped, each breath more difficult than the last. "Astoria," Daphne said, her voice laced with a feigned calm. "Come on." Daphne leaned Astoria against the wall but kept her up-right. "Look at me, Astoria, breathe in... breathe out. One more time, breathe in... breathe out."
Damn, I pushed her too hard, Daphne cursed herself. She'd gotten too lost in the moment, and now her sister could hardly breathe. "Stop looking at me like that," Astoria whispered, "Don't blame yourself. I'm just a little out of breath, is all, I'll be fine. Plus, it was fun, to spar with you, it was way more fun than just reading boring books all day!"
A soft smile rested on her lips as Daphne placed the tip of her wand on Astoria's chest. The young Gryffindor's strain lessened, and the way Astoria beamed at her made a warmth course through her body. That warmth quickly vanished at the approach of Thatcher and Moody. The doctor studied Astoria closely before she turned to Moody, "Well, Alastor?"
"It seems that your prediction was correct." Moody sighed. There was a rare look of sadness on the man's face that sent Daphne into a spiral of worry. "When the younger Greengrass uses her magic, I see the foul color of the cursed blood glow." Moody pointed to his electric blue eye, "The connection between her magic use and the curse is undeniable."
"What do you mean?" Astoria whispered faintly.
"We mean that it would be best if you refrained from using magic," Thatcher said, "Permenantly."
Daphne's eyes widened to the size of tea-saucers. She spun to face the older wizards, a fire behind her icy-blue pools, "What are you talking about? Are you saying Astoria's use of magic-"
"Is killing her, well, at least, it's killing her faster than the blood curse would do on its own," Thatcher said. "Blood curses taint the magic within a witch or wizard's blood. That taint grows like cancer when it is fed magic. It affects Astoria here so rapidly because her magic is uncommonly potent for a witch of her age. As you can tell by your duel, it even surpasses your own. Because of that, her tainted blood is going haywire. The only way I can see now to cure her is to uncover a way to obliterate her magical core and then get her a full-body blood transplant. But to destroy a magical core; even I don't know if it's entirely possible."
Her sister's eyes trembled like fall leaves, and a thin layer of tears formed within them. "What are you saying?" Astoria muttered, her words coated in such an uncommon fear.
"I'm saying that from this day forth, your days as a witch are over," Thatcher said. "It may not be pleasant to hear, but it's better to come out straight away and rip the band-aid off. I can dispose of your wand if you'd like. The less temptation you have around you the better it'll be for you to-"
Astoria sprinted from the room faster than Daphne even thought she was capable of in her condition. She reached out for Astoria, but the girl had faded from view in seconds. Daphne stumbled to her feet to give chase, but Thatcher's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Daphne spun on her heel and shouted, "How could you tell her that! Astoria loves magic more than anything! She's talented, and-" Doctor Thatcher's cold glare made Daphne check her tone, and Daphne mumbled the rest with a lowered head., "There has to be another way. She can't lose her magic; it's just not fair."
"The world's never been fair," Thatcher said softly, "Reality is what it is. No matter how much we'd like it to be different. If Astoria continues being a witch with her magical potency, she'll be dead in one year's time. That is the facts of the matter. As much as it hurts, I know that you're smart enough to understand that what I'm saying is true. Say nothing to her, or tell her the fact that magic is out of her reach now. To do anything else would be a disservice to her reality."
"We don't have much time to waste," Thatcher said, "Like I said, I do not know if the extraction of one's magical core is even possible, but I must research to learn more. Of course, you are welcome to join me, another set of eyes never hurts, but I would recommend you go and be with your sister. Her life is forever changed from this moment; knowing she has you by her side always may provide her at least a modicum of security.
Astoria, Daphne thought to herself solemnly, I'm so sorry.
(Riddle Manor)
Veins twitched across the Dark Lord's head. Magic radiated through his body in a way that reminded the Dark Lord of his youth. The sensation was familiar, but he'd recognized the source of his destroyed horcrux's signature. Agony gripped his heart. The pain was different than the one he'd gotten through battle; it was cold and bitter pain. A pain similar to when Voldemort had learned the truth about his mother all those years ago in the orphanage; it was the anguish of loss.
"Nagini," He whispered. His red-stained eyes searched the green liquid beneath him, but not a single fragment of his companion remained. Though a familiar figure's face stood in view. Her silver hair was unmistakable. His hands coiled into a tightly formed fist, and his glare hardened at the woman who stood with a blank expression above him.
"What did you do?" Voldemort hissed.
"I brought you back," Carmilla said, her tone unphased by the fury in the Dark Lord's voice, "You should be grateful. Your Death Eaters were useless; it is only thanks to my kin that you even breathe."
Voldemort wasn't amused. His blood boiled beneath his skin, and his body quaked like a volcano on the edge of eruption. "What did you do to Nagini?" Poison dripped from every word he spat, "Answer me!"
"I did what I had to do to bring you back," Carmilla returned coldly. "You allowed yourself to get hit with a killing curse by a boy not even have your age, it took sacrifices to bring you back. You should be grateful I even bothered to bring you back at all. You should bow before we with thanks if you had any honor at all."
Magic pulsed from Voldemort's body and Carmilla crossed her arms to protect herself from the blast. Voldemort soared at the vampiric queen, but his hand reached nothing but a cloud of red-vapor. Lightning flew from the Dark Lord's fingertips, but Carmilla phased through the attacks once again.
"Get a hold of yourself," Carmilla hissed. "I don't have the power to beat you, and you can't touch me. We're like fire and smoke; this fight would go on forever." Voldemort sneered, but Carmilla remained passive, "I'll admit it, I killed Nagini to bring you back. But I will also tell you that it was not my first choice. Truthfully, I'd grown to like that snake quite a bit, but our plan to resurrect you with the cup failed. Potter and his band of miscreants have held us at a standstill for quite some time, and Severus' betrayal only set us back further. We couldn't afford to waste anymore time."
"Severus," Voldemort whispered, hardly able to comprehend what he heard, "Severus betrayed me? Explain." Voldemort accented his order with a growl and hovered inches from the vampire's face.
"Your cup," Carmilla said, "The one we retrieved from Bellatrix's vault, Severus destroyed it." Voldemort's eyes shook like a building in an earthquake at the news. "He burnt it to a crisp with fiendfyre, we didn't have any other options after that."
Something cold swished in Voldemort's core. How many of his fragments remained? It was a thought that made his throat as dry as a desert. "A diadem, did you locate a diadem?"
"I can assure you we tried, well, your followers tried," Carmilla corrected. "I gave them two weeks to search, for it but I had intended on using the snake from the start; it only seemed sensical. Your followers know you better than I thought; they predicted you'd have a hissy fit over this. From one immortal to another, let me give you some friendly advice, next time, try not to stick your soul into something that can die."
"Continue to mock me, Carmilla, and I will ensure that you die miserably, I promise you that," Voldemort's voice was blizzard-like, and even Carmilla couldn't fight her quiver. "That does remind me though, how long have I been indisposed."
"Well, it's mid-february, 1997 now, so-"
"That long," Voldemort hissed with frustration. His fist clenched tightly, "Damn it all; I've given Potter too long to prepare. I need to move now."
"Now, now," Carmilla said patiently, "There's no need to rush. I'd say I did a rather formidable job while in charge. England has received no outside support since the war began, and roughly half of England is under our control. Granted, the ministry still stands, but we've destroyed their hospital, and their auror ranks have been decimated by their horde."
"And the Order... Potter?" Voldemort asked. Carmilla glanced down silently at the ground. The Dark Lord changed subjects quickly, "Were there any fatalities on my end?"
"Just the traitorous bastard," Carmilla said, "I've kept Bellatrix alive due to your favoritism of her, but she's in a critical state after talking back to me. I'd love your permission to kill her." Voldemort only glared in response, and Carmilla sighed, "Fine, I see. But I must say, you have some rather mouthy followers, you should discipline them better. They are an embarrassment of a force. So much power and so little capacity for thought. Honestly, you might be better off with just your ranks of werewolves and giants as much as I hate to say it."
"My followers are wizards and witches of noble blood. They represent the purity that this world demands. Untarnished by muggle filt and mudbloods." Voldemort felt Carmilla's lips curl at his words, "Did something I say amuse you?"
"A little," Carmilla relented, "It's just odd to hear you preach about such topics when you yourself aren't pure of-" Carmilla gagged on her words. The sudden strike of Voldemort's hand around her throat suffocated her for a moment before she phased out of his grasp. The venom, however, hadn't left his reddened-gaze.
"Say another word about my blood, and you will experience agony as you've never fathomed, that I swear to you," Voldemort growled.
The Dark Lord's threat silenced his second with ease, and with rage like a fiendfyre in his heart, he summoned an assembly. On their way to the meeting hall, Carmilla had tried to inform him of Delphini's growth, but Voldemort was far from interested. The child was simply part of the deal; Delphini, as Carmilla had decided to name her, was nothing to her. His body felt a bit odd. When he'd first adjusted to the mortal realm upon his return, he'd had a perfect warm-up in Potter at the Graveyard. Voldemort now itched for another chance. He'd hate Carmilla for eternity. What she did to Nagini was inexcusable, and she'd pay dearly for it at war's end. But he couldn't deny, the Vampiric Queen had brought him back far stronger than before.
His Death Eaters bowed at his presence. Some dropped to their knees and exalted him. He could sense desperation in the eyes of his followers. Carmilla hadn't exaggerated their situation in the slightest, with many of his Death Eaters drained and exhausted. Jonathan Greengrass, he and Severus had been the men behind his stasis; he'd learned as much from Carmilla on the way over, and he ordered the man to his feet.
Jonathan did so without hesitation and marched to his side as instructed. "It appears I have you to thank, Jonathan Greengrass, for my body's persevered status." Voldemort felt a chill run down his spine from the constant pain that raced through his body after the battle of Azkaban. The pain that had now subsided completely, "You have done me a great service, and you should be rewarded. Rest assured; I will keep my word about our agreement in due time, but until then, I name you my right hand. You sit just below myself and Carmilla now."
The Lord of House Greengrass stood still with shock, and Voldemort's eyes turned to the table of Death Eaters who shared their looks of misgivings, "You are to treat Mr. Greengrass with the utmost respect. Had it not been for him, I may have been gone for far longer. It is thanks to his efforts that I stand before you today."
Jonathan returned to the table and took the seat to Voldemort's left. From the head of the table, Voldemort scanned what remained of his Death Eaters. A few lesser members had passed, along with two big hitters in Rabastan and Rodolphus. The losses of Crouch, McNair were also heavy losses, Lucus less so, but still a loss. The survival of Dolohov was good; however, he was a man Voldemort knew he could trust on the battlefield. Carmilla had mentioned she'd disciplined Bellatrix, Voldemort hadn't thought to ask what she'd meant by that, but she hoped Bellatrix would recover soon. The Dark Lord didn't so much care for her, but more her strength and brutality on the battlefield. There were few witches that Voldemort enjoyed the company of more on the battlefield than Bellatrix Lestrange.
At his orders, his men delivered their reports. From what Voldemort could assess, they had the upper hand at the moment, though Potter had nearly repelled them all at the Battle of Diagon Alley. The thought almost made Voldemort grin with excitement. Potter sounded more formidable, and Voldemort's magic stirred at the thought of Harry Potter. The destruction of Harry Potter's will was something he could hardly wait to see, and he'd be the one to break it to pieces.
Voldemort was no fool, though. He was vulnerable, with the cup and Nagini destroyed and dead, only a single tether remained between himself and this world. The Diadem of Ravenclaw. He knew the Diadem to be locked in a room of lost things within the castle. It was safe there; it was a room unknown even to Albus Dumbledore, but caution never hurt anybody. He summoned Nott Sr. to his side, and the wizard dutifully came.
"I have a job for you and your son," Voldemort hissed, "A chance for young Theo to prove his undying loyalty to me." Nott nodded eagerly to please him, and a twisted grin grew across Voldemort's pale lips.
It was a simple plan, but Voldemort had rehearsed the role he'd wanted the Young Slytherin to play. The boy was to act as his eyes and ears within the castle, especially when it came to the movements of that blasted group of Potter supporters, the S.P.I.R.E.
Potter wouldn't have been so open about the knowledge of the horcruxes. For all the things Potter was, stupid, was not one of them. However, he assumed that his band of followers would know the truth, and Voldemort couldn't allow that to come to fruition. Voldemort had half a mind to march on the school that instant, but he refrained. He hadn't adjusted to his mortal form quite yet, and he needed to remind the wizarding world was his name struck fear into their hearts. They'd foolishly believed Potter capable of his defeat. They'd soon learn how mistaken they were.
(Harry P.O.V)
Harry hovered over the city of London on his firebolt. The thick grey clouds concealed him from muggle view, but his omnioculars provided him with a clear few of the streets that led into the Ministry. It was another day of patrols, and Harry hated patrols. Though the light hum of an engine did bring the slightest grin to his face. For as much as he hated to fly in circles pointlessly, patrols had been one of the few times he spent uninterrupted with Alastor Moody.
Yet, even with that silver-lining, Harry's mind buzzed with distraction. Daphne's hug had felt distant before he'd left for the streets, and Astoria hadn't even come out to see him. Harry knew that the two had a bit of a spar earlier that morning, but he'd been with Teddy and James at the time. It was apparent, though, that something had rattled them, and Harry needed to know what it was.
Moody's motorcycle hovered at Harry's side, his electric blue eye in constant motion. Though his Dark Eye sat firmly on Harry. "You look, distracted boy. Do I need to slap your head on straight to get you focused? I'm not about to die because Harry Potter's head wasn't in the game."
"You're as friendly as ever," Harry said dryly. A smirk etched itself across Moody's lips. "You're right that I'm distracted. Daphne and Astoria, they were acting weird today. Maybe hypocritical, I know, but I feel so on edge when they don't tell me things, especially when I get the feeling it's pretty bad."
"You could always legilimency your way into their brains if you're so concerend," Moody said nonchalantly. Harry shook his head; he'd given Astoria and Daphne his word he'd never invade their privacy like that. "Soft," had been Moody's response. Harry rolled his eyes; he loved his mentor, and in his own twisted way, Harry knew Moody cared for him, but delicacy was never one of the grizzled auror's strong suits.
"Look, boy, don't worry about that for now," Moody said. "There is nothing that will drive a man insane more than worrying about things out of their control. Now most men hear this and forget how extensive the range of things within their control really is, but the heart of the message still applies. This Greengrass situation is out of your control, so don't think on it, especially not when we are on patrol.
For all the things that Harry appreciated in his mentor, his ability to dismiss problems he didn't deem necessary to him hadn't been one. Sure, as a soldier, Harry had to acknowledge it was the better mindset to have, but for as much as Harry admired the one-eyed auror, he didn't want to become like him. There was a coldness in Moody's heart that Harry feared. Moody was a man that opted for a life alone, and while Harry found the appeal of that path in the past, he wasn't quite sure how much he'd love a life without the Order, without Daphne.
The pause in their conversation only became accented by the hum of Moody's two-way communication mirror. Harry couldn't see the face in the mirror's reflection, but he'd recognized the voice, Amelia Bones. He steadied his breath and waited for the request for back up, and like clockwork, it came. Amelia sent two aurors up to cover their patrol, and then, Harry smiled and kicked his broom into full speed. Giants had started to march on Oxford, and that meant the main force was on their way.
Even with the charms on his broom, the winter air made the flight brutal. Harry loved Quidditch, but he had to admit that he loved it slightly less in winter. While nothing could extinguish his smile when he flew, if there was a choice between a flight in the winds of May or February, Harry would've picked may every time. The good news was, at the speed they hit, they'd reached the battlefield in no time; the bad news was that it wasn't the happiest sight.
Oxford always looked so heavily populated, but the city seemed completely empty now. Harry scanned for citizen's but couldn't see any, though Moody answered his unasked questions swiftly. The ministry did have a plan in place when it came to large scale attack on muggle areas. A group of high-level obliviators, known in the ministry as sleepers, would release a potion-made gas that would knock out all non-magic folks in the area. But that didn't mean they disappeared. They may have been moved into nearby buildings, but innocent muggles still slept in the city.
Fuck me; Harry hissed in his mind, the stakes increased by the second. Moody sent him a nod, and together they dove into the battlefield below. "Tenimago!" Harry bellowed as black flames sprung from his wand. Moody took a deep breath and cast a current of wind from his lips that forced the black flames to expand.
A blanket of black fire coated the three giants who dropped their clubs, desperate to extinguish the heat. From the ground below, he saw two young aurors smile with relief at his arrival. Harry turned to his mentor, who nodded proudly but turned at the sensation of the black cloud that raced towards him. Moody cast a shield, but the black cloud shattered through it and knocked Moody from his bike.
Harry divebombed after the auror. Moody showed no fear in his fall but rather a hate-filled glance at the plume of smoke that hit him. Harry's shoulder nearly popped out of his shoulder from Moody's weight when he scooped the auror up mere inches from the ground. Harry landed his broom and rolled his shoulder before he steadied his wand once more.
"You alright?" Harry asked the grizzled auror.
"Thanks to you," Moody nodded before he leveled his own staff. "Enough chit chat though," Moody growled, the singular dark cloud now met with a band of five more, "It appears we have company."
Harry couldn't help but notice the lack of red among the black clouds. This attack hadn't involved any vampires, at least, none that Harry could see. That only begged the question of why? Hordes of thralls made much better infantry than death eaters when it came to a mass city takeover, and yet, Harry sensed a magical signature from every being on the field. There wasn't a thrall in sight. Just what are they playing at? Harry thought his fingers coiled tightly around the handle of his gifted wand. Is this even a serious attack?
The apparition clouds descended on the field with a flurry of green spells. Harry slammed his foot down and conjured a stone wall that cracked and sizzled from the impact but kept them safe. Moody's eye peered through the stone wall, and a snarl ripped itself from his throat. "Karkaroff, Dolohov, The Carrows, Mulciber Jr., and Selwyn. Apart from Karkaroff, all of them are elite Death Eaters, tread cautiously."
If they are all elite death eaters, where's Bellatrix? Harry stomach tightened with knots. Is this a distraction? Is the real attack coming from somewhere else. Harry sighed; where's Michael when you need him? Harry steadied his breath a focused his magic, Well, no point in crying over spilled milk, let's do this. He turned to Moody, before with a nod, they charged.
Harry moved on auto-pilot. Even under the barrage of spells, the magic bolts moved in slow motion to him. He'd be born with gifted reflexes, but the gravity of Morgana's castle had made his speed impeccable. The death eaters could fire at him all day, but they'd never hit him. Harry jumped out of the way of an explosion curse, just in time to see the crater it left where he stood. Harry only smirked, "Well, if that's how we want to play, fine by me." He flicked his wand with a crack of his wrist and watched the ground beneath the Death Eater's shatter.
Dolohov quickly turned back into a black cloud, and Harry turned behind him. Dolohov played dirty, and that was all Harry needed to know to predict the man's movements. "Taltura!" Harry bellowed. Dolohov hadn't even a chance to set his shield spell before a pool of blood cut through the black cloud. The Death Eater withered on the floor with pain and Harry readied another blasting curse in his wand. "Confrig-,"
This time, he'd be the one hit by a cloud of smoke. Harry flipped backwards in the air, but managed to land on his feet. Two figures stood against him now, one male, the other female, but both clearly related. "The Carrows, I take it? You know, it's quite rude to interrupt a fight. I mean truly, have you no honor?" The siblings hadn't much enjoyed his mockery as two Cruciatus Curses flew from their wands. "Not very sportsman like," Harry muttered and rolled out of the spells path, "Fine then, I guess I'll deal with you two next."
Harry spun his wand in a full circle before a wall of his signature black flames surrounded the three of them, "Come on then. Now we won't have any interruptions."
"Don't mock us!" The siblings cried in unison as another flurry of unforgivable and generally unpleasant spells flew from their wands. Harry battered the ones he could away, while he simply danced out of the way of the red bolts of pain. Honestly, yes, he hated all of them, the Death Eaters were a plague on this earth but what really bothered Harry was their lack of creativity. Unforgivable seemed to be all these elites knew how to fling, in truth, it bored him.
"Honestly, you Death Eaters and your unforgivable curses," Harry said with a shake of his head, "It's an embarrassment to call you elites. But I'll do you a favor, alright? I'll show you how a real elite wizard uses magic." Harry flicked his wand down before he pulled it up and the Carrows' eyes began to quiver at the may the ground shook beneath their feet. Suddenly, like a whale mid-breach, a conjured hand made of the dirt they stood on gripped the two of them tightly. "See, isn't that interesting, and all it took was a little transfiguration and pressure charms. Now, the fun can begin."
Harry pushed his palm forward and ordered the sand fist towards the walls of fire, "Let us go! I said let us go you bastard!" The male Carrow roared.
"Nah," Harry said, his voice laced with boredom, "Don't really feel like it." He clenched his free hand tightly, before he released his palm and threw the siblings into the fire. They screamed in pain, their voiced joined with the agony of the giants. Harry watched emptily as the siblings rolled on the ground to try and douse the inextinguishable flames of House Black. "I'll extinguish them when the aurors come to make an arrest, but for now, enjoy the free heat. It is rather nippy out today."
Harry turned to the spot where he'd left Dolohov's injured body, and sighed, the Death Eater had vanished once again. Lucky git, he hissed before he raced towards his mentor's side. Moody was under heavy fire, and while Karkaroff's skills were laughable, Mulciber and Selwyn looked to be the real deal. Moody caught a glimpse of Harry and held up four finger. Harry read the message loud and clear, Formation four, works for me. Harry readied his magic in his palm, then Moody made his move. He jammed his staff into the ground and forced an earth spike to rise from the ground. Mulciber jumped from the jagged spike, but soon found himself unable to drop caught in Harry's constriction spell.
Mulciber screamed at his faith, his head on a direct collision course with the ground above. Smack! Even Harry flinched from the sound of the impact. Though with Mulciber unable to so much as stand, suddenly the odds became much better, now it was only two on two. Karkaroff shuffled back in fear and Selwyn's knuckles turned white from his clenched grip. They were cornered, or at least, that's what Harry had thought until a familiar voice sent chills down his spine, "Karkaroff, Selwyn, recover who you can and return to Headquarters. These two aren't enemies you stand a chance against."
Harry's heart pounded like a jackhammer. His bandaged arm screamed with familiar agony as it trembled against his will. The man was two distinct to be mistaken, but his magical presence felt different, otherworldly even. But those red-eyes, they never changed. His bare feet shuffled along the ground, his magic cold and hellish around him, "Harry Potter," The Dark Lord said with a smile that made his throat dry, "We meet again."
"Unfortunately," Harry quipped, his cool about to vanish. "Part of me hoped I really did put you down for good at Azkaban."
"Yes, I imagine you did, and I'm not ashamed to admit you certainly did quite a number on me," Voldemort lifted his wand, "But this time will be different. No need to look so glum though, if I recall, you said you were looking forward to this day."
"I lied," Harry said as he gripped his own wand tightly, "Nobody would ever want to see your snake-skinned face again." Harry sensed the magic swell in Voldemort's forehead and readied a Legilimency pulse of his own. Harry roared when he unleashed his pulse but Voldemort remained cool. Just like it had in Azkaban, the world around them shook. Even the cement layers of the Oxford building cracked under their magical pressure. Blood trickled down Harry's nose at pulse from Voldemort, and his head pounded with a fiery anguish. Then to Harry's horror, Voldemort laughed. A sudden scream rang from Voldemort's throat and Harry found himself adrift in the air before his back hit the ground to wake him with a painful thud.
"Fuck," Harry hissed. He quickly conjured a shield to block the volley of enflamed arrows the Dark Lord conjured faster than Harry could even see. The shield held, though Harry could almost hear his wand cry out in stress. He rolled out of the way of the second volley, unsure if his wand could handle another before he sent a black, crescent of magic towards the Dark Lord. Voldemort didn't move, but held out his hand. Harry fought against his jaw's urge to drop at the way Voldemort stopped his spell in midair before he banished it. Come on, Potter, think! He roared to himself, but nothing came. Voldemort's power had exceeded what even Harry could imagine.
Harry's legs cramped beneath him. To even block one of the man's attacks had taken a heavy toll on his body. He fell to his knees and panted, his Legilimency pulse had taken a lot out of him on its own. Harry's body shuddered at the conjured wall before him just in time to be shattered by a blasting curse that sent Harry rolling backwards. Moody apparated to his side and growled, "Now isn't the time to day dream, Potter." The auror's eyes rested firmly on the cloaked man, "It's as we feared, he's become exponentially stronger than before."
Harry wiped the blood from his nose, "It doesn't matter, nothing's changed." He stumbled to his feet, "I'm going to kill him here and now before he get's a chance to hurt anyone else." Harry only distantly heard Moody's protest as he raced towards the Dark Lord. A feral smile crept upon the snake-faced man's lips but Harry only scowled in return. A snake of fire lunged from the man's mouth and Harry rolled just beneath it before he swiped at the man's torso, "Taltura!"
Voldemort growled and jumped backwards. A thin river of blood dripped down his pale torso from the cut Harry had made. Though, it hadn't brought about the anger Harry had expected, rather, once more, Voldemort laughed, then he cackled. "Yes Potter! Good! I was afraid that in my current state you wouldn't even be able to amuse me, but you can still hit me if you put your mind to it." Voldemort readied himself, "I'll enjoy killing you much more now."
Harry lowered himself into a defensive stance but soon found the ground beneath him pull him back. He glared at Moody who's magic radiated from the source of the retreating ground, but Moody paid him no mind. Harry hadn't even gotten a chance to berate the auror before he spoke, "Potter, you need to retreat, now." Harry's eyes widened at the man's words, "As it currently stands, if you two fight here, you'd certainly land in a few clean hits, but you'd die. If that happens, this war is over. You need to escape this place, and figure out a way to overcome this monstrous strength of his."
"That's great and all, but I don't think Voldemort's just going to let us retreat," Harry snapped back at the grizzled man.
"Aye, he won't which is why I'll serve as the distraction." Moody said firmly. He summoned Harry's broom to his hand and shoved it into Harry's palms. "There's no other way to ensure your escape. But your survival is critical to the plan."
"No!" Harry bellowed, "I won't allow another person to die for me! Never again!"
"Harry! Do as your teacher says!" Harry stood silent at Moody's words.
"I have a name," Harry had called out to the man the day his training had first began under Moody in his fourth year.
"And I will refer to you by it once you've earned my respect as a capable wizard," Moody had retorted.
A thin layer of mist covered Harry's eyes at the smile on Moody's face, "I've lived for long enough and we both know how long Morgana hates to be kept waiting. It has been my greatest honor to train you Harry, and I believe you will find a way to put this atrocity down once and for all. When you succeed though, you must promise me you'll return to Avalon. I'll be waiting to hear all about how the student of the great Alastor Moody kicked the ass of the Dark Lord Voldemort."
"Moody, I-," Harry clenched his fist tightly and bowed his head in deep respect, "Thank you for everything, and I swear I will!"
Moody nodded, "Good, now get going." He steadied his staff, "Five minutes, that's all I can promise."
A/N: So, we got a lot of action this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. My favorite scene to write was the last one where Moody finally acknowledges Harry as a great wizard, something I set back all the way in Book 2. I love the way it turned out and I hope you all find some enjoyment in it as well! If you did, please be sure to Follow, Favorite, and Review! Until Next Time, Peace!