Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. This fic is based on 'The Darkness Within' by Kurinoone, Harry's background story as well as Damien belongs to her.
A/N: Finally, some more action. I know we've all been craving it. I'm still in the process of looking for a beta reader, so if you are interested, please send me a message. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter. It also has a lot of foreshadowing and small references. As always, please leave a review with your thoughts!
When you feel it's hopeless
When you think that you lost, oh
I will take your hand and
We'll rise up from the dust, oh
Here we come back to life, we're still breathing
Standing up, everybody's gonna see it
Oh all you need to know is that we're holding on
Even if we fall we will rise up
And we follow the path that we believe in
No we're not gonna stop until we reach it
Oh all you need to know is that we're holding on
We rise up from the dust and claim our throne
Rise Up - TheFatRat
A grunt escaped Mrs Yaxley as James tightened the Magic Suppression cuffs around her wrists.
She turned an impressive scowl at him.
James tried not to let her disdain—which was fully expected—bother him. He was used to stunning and restraining other wizards and witches. After all, it was an unfortunate part of his everyday life as an Auror. Since most of his squad members were still in the hospital, Senior Auror Moody had been reassigned to his unit. And because they were technically not a full team, they had been given the tedious task of arresting Mia Yaxley, the wife of a recently captured and confirmed Death Eater.
Even if she was the wife of a such a despicable man, and most likely an unmarked member of their group as well, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth every time he had to arrest a woman—especially a mother.
James had sent Williamson, the new recruit, to search the house for the Yaxley child. The young man had potential, but James was sorely disappointed. Williamson had let his personal feelings and emotions get the better of him, even going as far as to cast an Killing Curse against the woman they had been sent to apprehend.
He had been trying to get as much distance as he could between Auror Williamson and Mia Yaxley—and sending him to look for Mia's daughter had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Moody and Sirius did not approve, as was evident by the glares that were now directed at his back.
James did his best to ignore both Alastor and Sirius. Even if Moody was a Senior Auror, a war veteran, he wasn't normally a part of his team and since Kingsley, Liam and Nathan were still in the hospital, James was the commanding officer on the field and during a mission—his word was law.
He knew what they were thinking, but even if Williamson was an emotional recruit in need of serious punishment for casting an Unforgivable Curse against an unmarked witch, James refused to believe that an Auror working for the Ministry against you-know-who would ever purposely harm a child.
Turning around the corner, all four of them exited through the main entrance of the house and walked towards the park across the street—where the edge of the anti-apparition ward was located.
"We'll wait here for Williamson to return with the kid," James called out, eyes tracing the faint, almost invisible lines of the multiple wards they had just broken to get inside. He was sure that other Aurors were already on their way to inspect the house for dark artifacts and evidence, but James didn't want anything to go wrong during this arrest, and he wasn't willing to take any more chances.
The others nodded in agreement.
And then, Mia Yaxley chuckled.
James completely froze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but it wasn't the woman's chuckling that unnerved him.
A faint sound, drifting through them like mist.
Slow clapping.
James had never heard a more sinister sound in his life.
He turned slowly, as if turning any faster would start the fight that would inevitably happened if his instincts were correct.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.
He stared at him as the cold reality began to set in.
The Dark Prince was here.
Right there in front of him, as if he had been there all along. Striking an imposing figure. Dressed in black combat robes and wearing the silver mask James had seen only once before. They must have been around the same height, but he felt as though the Dark Prince was towering over them.
A shudder went through his spine as his magic reacted to the mere presence and the strange familiarity of the new enemy. The air seemed to crackle around them like electricity. James was sure that even Moody was somewhat awed at the enormous amount of unrestrained magic that poured out of their foe.
The gloves were off.
It seemed that the Dark Prince had been merely toying with them last time. Now however, it was clear that he was done playing.
The temperature had dropped immensely. James watched as his breath hovered in front of his face in a little white cloud. It was always chilly when he faced Dark Wizards—a side effect of facing someone who regularly used dark magic—but against Voldemort's son, face to face like this, the cold feeling of unnatural darkness was enough to send a fresh chill skittering up his spine.
The Dark Prince's magic felt like a different kind of magic altogether, very dark, very powerful. It left dark traces on everything it touched.
On his right, Moody reacted—instinctively raising his wand.
"Drop your wand, boy! NOW!" urged Mad-Eye at the new figure, but the Dark Prince refused to acknowledge him.
James could almost imagine the terrible smirk behind that silver mask.
"I'm impressed. You are a hard man to kill Potter, I'll give you that much," the Dark Prince paused, looking back at Yaxley's Manor. "It's too bad. It was a nice-looking house too," he mused, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.
James paused, blinking in confusion as he looked towards the house. Muscles bunched in his jaw, words already in his throat before he could stop himself. "What do you mean by was—"
Things happened extremely quickly, but James was sure he would remember them until the end of his days. First there was a flash, a huge white light that forced all the Aurors to turn away from the house, and then, the windows on the bottom floor were blasted out by a shockwave, followed by an enormous burst of flames.
For a moment everyone was frozen in shock, and then almost immediately, more explosions rang out in quick succession, the top windows blowing out in a cascade of broken and burning shards. The house began to fold in, collapsing on itself, sending a shockwave of dust through the entire neighbourhood.
The squad of Aurors covered their faces with their hands, trying to see through the dust.
He… he blew up the house, thought James.
With his heart pounding furiously in his chest, James closed his eyes as his hands clenched into fists, Williamson was probably dead. No regular wizard could survive that explosion plus the whole house collapsing on top of them. He gritted his teeth—he had unknowingly sent one of his own to his death.
Death is just a part of life son, his father Charlus Potter had whispered in his ear the day he had died, consumed by illness—more than two decades ago.
James forced himself to swallow down the memories and the pain.
He turned around to check on his best friend and stopped dead. Sirius was trying to restrain Mrs Yaxley, who was screaming in terror.
James could barely hear her since his ears would not stop rigging.
The child! He though horrified.
"Ellie is fine Mia," came the strong voice of the Dark Prince, and James was reminded again of how young his opponent was. "You have nothing to worry about."
He turned towards James. "However, I can't say the same of your man. You should keep you Mudblood pets closer to you Potter, or someone might put them down for barking too loudly." He laughed. "He screamed until I ripped his throat out."
Moody moved.
But the Dark Prince was ready. A shift in his green eyes, an indrawn breath that he held, followed by a burst of explosive movement. With a loud yell, he thrusted his arm forward and shadows sprung forth from his tip of his wand.
The shadows left his wand in a rush, they twisted and pulsed with shapes and faces, forms struggling to become solid. A second later, terrifying beasts were dashing towards every single one of them.
James leaped back. An enormous lion with molten green eyes destroyed his instinctively casted protego like it was made of paper. It began to wither away, but not before biting through his leg and ramming him against the side of a tree.
James's back and leg exploded with pain. He gasped for air, trying to fill his lungs.
His head was aching and the bite on his leg was hurting badly. The shadow lion's teeth had not managed to do too much damage. He was still standing, but there was some blood dripping down his damaged leg.
James cursed. He was tired of always getting injured against Voldemort's heir, before he even managed to land a single hit. It felt like he was just a rag doll to throw around.
Tasting blood on his mouth, he turned just in time to see Sirius struggling against the monstrous huge shadow of a gigantic badger. The shade snarled at Sirius, its claws coming down at an incredible speed, trying to cut him into ribbons.
Sirius was barely able to get out of the way in time.
The ground shook and pavement shatter beneath the force of the badger's claws.
Snarling at having missed its intended target—the creature lifted its other arm.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" James prayed that his hunch was right, he had no idea if his stag patronus would be a match for the shadow fiend.
Mere moments later, the silvery stag crashed into shade of the badger with all its might. The badger gave an ear-piercing shriek as the stag's antlers pierced its body, and then the shadows dissolved into nothingness.
Sirius threw James a grateful look.
James nodded back and turned towards Moody.
The famous senior Auror's metal leg was trembling, a result of the tremendous amount of magic he was battling against. His face was scrunched up in a grimace, his hands clenched into tight fists. There were two long whips made of light coming out of his wand.
One was wrapped around the torso of dark eagle. Its beak shut closed by a line of light like a shinning rope. The other whip was wrapped around the body of a towering shadow serpent, slowly crushing it to death.
Mad-Eye growled from the pain, James assumed that it took a cosmic amount of energy and magic to restrain both creatures at the same time—by himself.
James turned towards Sirius, who was already looking at him.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" They both yelled at the same time.
His silvery stag and Sirius's grim patronus both joined the fight to help Moody. As soon as the dog's teeth and the stag's antlers pierced the shadows, they both faded with a shriek of agony.
James's vision cleared after bright silver light of his patronus faded. He coughed, and a small amount of blood spew out onto the pavement.
"Only three of you now?" said the Dark Prince, his voice full of smug confidence. "You couldn't handle me when it was one against five. One against three is poor odds—for you."
Despite his words of confidence, James could see that his opponent was breathing heavily.
Of course, such monumental power came at a cost and the Dark Prince—judging by the sound of his voice—was a still a teenager. Not even in his twenties, and he was already throwing around spells James could barely comprehend, but he wasn't an unstoppable force.
James had been so scared of the magical prowess of the Dark Prince, that his mind had automatically assumed that he was fighting against a wizard of Dumbledore's or Voldemort's calibre. And the young man in front of him was clearly on his way to achieving a similar amount of power—but he wasn't quite there yet.
He kicked himself internally. Naturally, the Dark Prince probably hadn't even reached his prime yet. He was Voldemort's son, not Lord Voldemort himself.
And that meant that they could beat him if they worked together. At least, he hoped so.
With a shake of his head, James's resolve strengthened.
"Sirius! Moody! Back in formation NOW!"
His best friend moved instantly at his command, placing himself on James's left. On his right, Mad-Eye was already smirking and nodding in approval.
"Remember, we need him alive. Only attack to capture or to stun him, nothing lethal," he reminded them, feeling relatively certain that this would be one of the hardest fights of their lives.
I think you will find both of those options extremely difficult; the Dark Prince voice suddenly spoke in their heads.
James's eyes widen at the casual almost insulting way his opponent had brushed his thought against their occlumency barriers. This was a cold, calculated show of power. A way for them to truly realise how unmatched they were against him.
James tried unsuccessfully to calm his racing heart. This was a boy, a teenager, why was he his mere presence so intimidating? And why did that brief brush of thoughts against his occlumency barriers felt so familiar?
With dust clinging to his clothes James watched as the sun light caught the black, diamond shaped gem on a ring the Dark Prince was wearing, it shone ominously.
James took a deep breath to calm himself. In the corner of his vision, he spotted a semi-concealed rock protruding from the grass right next to the Dark Prince.
His eyes raised to meet his enemy, and in the moment, James saw it all happen in slow motion. He knew what would happen a second before it did—but it was a second too late.
James fired a stunner, with Sirius and Mad-Eye following his lead.
Voldemort's son immediately acted and placed his right foot on the protruding rock, thrusting himself into the air and spinning around rapidly to avoid the wave of incoming spells. His wand moved with the flow and elegance that only came from thousands of practice hours. For every hex the Aurors threw at him, the Dark Prince responded with his own dark variations.
A Bone-Breaking Curse that passed him harmlessly was answered with a Bone-Shattering Curse and suddenly, Sirius was on the ground screaming his lungs out as the bones in his forearm quite literally exploded inside his skin.
But James couldn't take his eyes off his opponent for even a second. Those moves. . . why did they feel so familiar. What was he missing?
The Dark Prince landed on his feet with all the grace of a professional dueller, and with a flick of his wand, a nearby tree was suddenly uprooted and, mere milliseconds later, it twisted and morphed into an enormous diamond chain.
James barely acted in time as the transfigured chain rushed forwards to restrain Sirius or crush him to death. He moved with a speed he did not know he possessed, especially because he was still wounded, and rushed to put himself in front of his best friend. Just in time for him to fire a single spell against the diamond chain that was easily three times his own size.
He called forth every bit of his magic and blasted it away with a point blank reducto, and the transfiguration collapsed to the sound of breaking diamonds.
Grunts made him turn, Sirius was trying to heal his arm, but James knew that the pain would soon render him unconscious.
But Mad-Eye. . .
Mad-Eye had never once stopped casting, and in that moment, James understood why so many Death Eaters feared the one-eyed Auror. The spells crashing against the Dark Prince full body shield were each more forceful than the last. They were slowly eating away at his stamina.
In this short time, Moody had managed to analyse the Dark Prince's fighting style to a frightening degree. The veteran Auror had determined that he would never beat Voldemort's heir in a contest of raw magical power, and so he adjusted his strategy accordingly, he was trying come out on top by tiring out the Dark Prince.
It was a solid strategy, but James knew Mad-Eye had never fought someone quite like this kid.
Moody's skills befitted his reputation, he evaded and blocked every spell their enemy casted, even the ones meant for James. All the same, it was clear that the Dark Prince was just simply better.
James watched as multiple spells suddenly rushed towards his best friend.
Sirius was still down on the ground, struggling to heal his arm.
Without stopping to think, he acted. Two huge transparent protegos sprung forth from both his and Mad-Eyes wands to block the onslaught of curses.
He planted his feet firmly on the ground as his wand moved to throw a stunner, but before he could, the Dark Prince's form blurred and almost simultaneously Moody staggered in shock and fell on his knees with a groan of pain.
James could almost see the boy's lips curled in triumph beneath the silver mask. They were prepared for a magical battle, but their opponent had no intention of giving them one. One of his throwing knifes had bypassed the Aurors magical defense and was now embedded up to the hilt in Moody's shoulder.
James curse loudly.
Behind Moody, a still restrained Mia Yaxley saw her chance and made a run for the edge of the wards. James doubted that she would to be able to apparate whilst wearing the Magic Suppression cuffs, but he had no idea if the woman knew that or if she cared enough not to try.
They could not, under any circumstances, let her escape. They desperately needed information on You-Know-Who. Even if Mr Yaxley was already in custody, there was little the Aurors could do to force information out of him. Multiple Death Eater's had, in the past, bitten out their own tongues and spat them at the Aurors before they had even considered using Veritaserum. The Ministry needed a breakthrough in this war. Information was really hard to come by, even with multiple spies on both sides. Mr Yaxley was a very important hostage, and they needed either his wife or his child as a bargaining chip, James knew that the Ministry would never harm Mia Yaxley or her child, but Mr Yaxley didn't know that. And therefore, he would voluntarily give out his master's secrets.
Mad-Eye—still on his knees—had watched as the woman turned to run and a second later, he was there himself, shoulder bleeding with the knife still embedded in him. His right hand grabbed the back of Mia's dress and violently yanked her back.
"Where do you think you're going woman?" he yelled.
James knew he needed to help him restrain Mrs Yaxley, so he rushed over to help him.
But he barely managed to move in time as another knife came flying through the air. James ducked and shouted a warning, but the throwing knife still struck Moody square in the stomach.
The one eyed Auror wheezed and let out a horrific sound as his knees hit the ground.
Mia Yaxley stood up and turned to run again. This time, James knew that he couldn't follow her, unless he wanted to end up like Moody.
James was breathing heavily. His muscles ached. He was tired and scared for the lives of his squad members. A quick glance told him that both Mad-Eye and Sirius had passed out, probably from the pain of their injuries or the blood loss.
James cursed. He was alone again, fighting one against one, exactly like the last time. James had gotten a lucky hit that time, he doubted he would be so lucky now.
Green eyes mocked him from a distance. The Dark Princes smirk of triumph was almost palpable. Another sinister looking dagger was spinning in between his fingers. James could tell that he was being mocked, played with. Like a cat playing with a mouse. In this moment, he was no longer the predator, he had become the prey.
"Two down, only one to go," said the Dark Prince.
James glared at his enemy, trying unsuccessfully to see more than those eerie eyes underneath the silver mask.
This is it, he thought. The end of the line. Williamson was already dead, killed by the Dark Prince himself if the boy was to be believed, Sirius and Mad-Eye were both already unconscious, and James doubted that they would survive to receive the necessary treatment if he himself was stuck down during this fight.
"Your daddy must be proud," James taunted. His hands were clenched in fists filled with rage. His leg wound was still bleeding. Yet, he could not afford to lose this fight. He thought of his beloved wife, Lily, waiting for him home. He thought of his young son Damien, who had just barely turned thirteen a couple months ago, way too young to lose his father. He thought of his other son, his firstborn, long dead at the hands of this boy's father. His little man, his Harry.
"Oh, don't you worry. He will be," said the Dark Prince with a sinister voice, filled with contempt.
The boy's hands blurred, and James reacted instinctively. Only his multiple years training in the Auror corps saved him as he threw himself to the side.
The dagger passed right next to him. Grazing his cheek and leaving a small cut.
He hissed at the small amount of pain.
As he raised his wand, he barely managed to catch a glimpse of his opponent's malicious smirk. And then. . .
"Crucio," came the small whisper. Voice cold, devoid of emotion.
Apart from the incantation, there was no warning. No ominous feeling, no light leaving the Dark Prince's wand.
But after what felt like an eternal second, James felt it.
PAIN.
UNIMAGINABLE PAIN.
Blinding, unlike anything James had ever felt before, tearing him apart and rapturing his senses.
Pain unlike anything he could have ever imagined.
Every single cell in his body screamed as he felt his insides burning, begging, pleading for it to stop.
James opened his mouth to scream. . . but nothing came out.
And then—as if hearing his pleadings—the pain abruptly stopped.
"Crucio," whispered Harry.
He felt the precise moment the curse connected with Potter. Extasy raced through his veins as his magic wrapped around James, torturing his pain receptors and making him twist and squirm when his nervous system began to slowly collapse. If he could hold the curse for an entire hour, James Potter would be no more. He would be reduced to an empty drooling husk of his former self, driven insane by the unique experience that was the torture curse.
Harry knew this first-hand.
He had done it to others before.
The knowledge, the power. . . it was exhilarating.
Abruptly, he was forced to stop the Cruciatus Curse and block as a hail of spells rained down on him from different directions.
His head-to-toe shield held strong, and every single curse disappeared before it could hit him.
Harry turned his gaze to his surroundings.
The street seemed empty of sound and people. But up ahead, underneath a streetlight, stood a tabby cat with markings around its eyes. The cat's tail twitched, and then it gave him a stern look.
Harry glared back.
The cat jumped and transformed into a severe-looking woman wearing square glasses and an emerald cloak. A pointy hat sat atop her head, like a crown representing her rank as Dumbledore's right-hand woman. The current Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Minerva McGonagall.
The others came out of every corner of the street, all of them focus on him.
Auror Trainee Nymphadora Tonks—judging by her wildly changing red and purple hair—stepped out of the shadows of an old willow tree, wand pointed straight towards Harry.
Dedalus Diggle, the tiny wizard, walked out of a nearby alley.
A tough looking man with short wiry grey hair appeared next to Nymphadora wearing a long trench coat—Auror John Dawlish.
Harry looked around him and saw at least five others Aurors surrounding him, their wands aimed straight at him.
Harry's lips tightened and his nostrils flared.
In front of him, next to a still twitching Potter, Arthur Weasley's Disillusionment Charm faded, and he glared at Harry. He held an unconscious Mia Yaxley thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Do not fear, James. Mad-Eye alerted us. Albus is already on his way," said the Deputy Headmistress, drawing Harry's attention.
Harry growled. He could not fight against them. Not all at once. Not right now. His muscles were beginning to ache from exhaustion. His hands were already twitching. He had used a lot of magic, not even counting the fact that he had done an entire training session earlier that day.
"James, please watch her," said Arthur Weasley as he placed the unconscious woman next to Potter.
"How about that, the whole Order of the Pigeon here for little old me," mocked Harry. He appeared calm but inside he seethed in a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He did not have enough strength to fight them. Much less Albus Dumbledore.
It would be foolish and impractical to spend the rest of his energy trying to free the unconscious Mrs Yaxley, especially if Dumbledore was indeed on his way and they were not just bluffing.
By the look on McGonagall's face, Harry doubted they were bluffing.
Dawlish gave him a mocking smile. In response, Harry smirked arrogantly.
"Don't try anything stupid, young man. Just drop your wand and I promise no harm will come to you," instructed McGonagall.
Harry didn't answer her. Instead, he twisted his body around to show that he was evaluating and surveying his foes. He assessed every adversary, trying to determine the level of threat they represented. His eyes flickered from wand to wand, from Auror to Order member, scanning for exits.
At Harry's lack of response, Arthur Weasley inched forward.
"Be reasonable son, you can't fight all of us at once," Arthur said.
Harry turned to face him, smiling behind his mask.
"Can't I?"
In the blink of an eye, Harry's signature bluish shield exploded around him as curses and stunners came at him from every angle. He turned and ran towards the nearest house. A big red and white building with a small, trimmed garden and a welcome mat beneath the front door.
He kicked the wooden door down and rushed inside the home. Strange furniture decorated every part of the house, yet it was completely empty.
Of course, it wasn't a stretch to assume that the Yaxley's probably owned the whole block. Harry wouldn't put it past them to buy a whole neighbourhood, just so that it seemed like they lived in a populated area, while still distancing themselves from the muggle pest.
He darted across the room and raced up the stairs without turning back to see if the Order members would follow him, weaving through furniture while trying not to slow down.
He knew they would follow him. He could hear the frantic footsteps behind him, and he watched as some spells were thrown his way. With veins full of adrenaline, he moved to the left and ran through another door. Yells and shouts could be heard behind him. He climbed yet another set of stairs.
If he could get to the roof, he would be able to lose his pursuers by jumping onto the roofs of the closest buildings. After all, he only needed to run until he reached the edge of the anti-apparition ward.
As he came upon what appeared to be a dinning room, a transfigured cheetah sprinted towards him in a flash. Harry flicked his wand, and the wooden creature was torn limb from limb before bursting into thousands of splinters. They scattered all around the room.
Multiple jets of light slammed against his shield, but nothing fazed Harry.
In a desperate attempt to subdue him, Arthur Weasley rushed him, intending to tackle him by sheer force. Harry twisted his body around, grabbing a hold of Arthur's wrist with both of his hands and judo flipped him straight onto the dining table.
Behind his silver mask, Harry's lips settled into a malicious grin as Weasley's back hit the marble with a hard TWACK.
With a laugh, he evaded Nymphadora Tonk's Body-Binding curse and close the distance in a rush of speed. He intended to put her down with a single blow, but he needed to conserve some of his magic. He pulled back his arm and rotated his hips before throwing a punch, straight towards the Auror trainee's face with all of his strength.
Only to find himself face to face with an uninjured Mad-Eye Moody, who lazily blocked his punch with an open palm.
Harry stopped, taken aback.
"How are you even standing?" he asked, startled.
Mad-Eye ignored him, there was no scar or blood where the second dagger had stuck. Even his robes were perfectly intact.
The Auror had the audacity to smirk, before rapidly closing his hand around Harry's fist.
"Deception is the best way to win a battle. Is that all you have, boy?" asked Moody, with an obvious attempt to get into his head.
Harry snarled.
Moody snarled right back, grabbing Harry's robes and forcibly pushing him to the ground with all of his strength, in an almost successful attempt to subdue him—by abruptly stopping his ability to move freely.
In his panic, Harry didn't register that both of their wands were still in their respective hands, or that he was surrounded by members of the Order of the Phoenix. The only thing restraining the flurry of spells—that they most certainly wanted to throw his way—was his proximity to Moody.
But none of that mattered in Harry's mind.
Mad-Eye Moody knew how to fight with his bare fists. More than that, one move was all it took for Harry to realise that even with a metallic leg and an injured shoulder, Moody was still better than him.
Far better.
In the split second that Harry's mind took to process that crucial piece of information, his body acted on instincts and panic alone. The upper parts of his robes were torn as he scrambled to get away, and with a hard calf kick to Mad-Eye's good leg, he managed to disentangle himself from the veteran Auror.
He stopped next to a big, boarded window.
Harry drew in heavy breaths, as he angrily shoved a chair out of his way. He was tired, and he couldn't keep this up forever, he had to find a way out of this and soon. If Dumbledore arrived, he would definitely be done for. One on one he might have fought the old bag of bones, but tired as he was. Just out of a fight with Potter, Moody, Black, McGonagall and other unimportant order members, he wasn't dumb enough to think he had a chance.
No other way out of this, he thought.
He closed his eyes and retreated into his own mind for a second. A second was more than enough. The feeling of her magic was always there, right next to him. Always within arm's reach. He could feel her, trace the remnants of her power, the icy tundra that was her mind.
Her magic began to react to his, in familiarity, in greeting. Harry welcomed it and masked their presence so the Order members would not be able to instantly feel the magic. Blue eyes looked at him from across the abyss, and he felt as her magic stirred inside of him. His breath came out in misty clouds as their magic turned into one.
And then. . .
His father's ring and Slytherin's locket began to warm up. The feeling was truly out of this world. His own magic, mixed with hers, and now added to his father's.
He opened his eyes.
Every single member of the Order froze as they inspected the changes in him in horror. Oh, they did not see anything. But they felt it. Even untrained wizards would have felt the change in Harry, maybe even a muggle.
He howled with laughter, roaring in triumph. This was his trump card, his miracle, and without a miracle of their own, none of the Order members were getting out of this alive. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He would confirm that they were all dead before apparating away.
Were they willing to risk their lives for a chance to capture him? No matter how insignificant that chance was now that he had her power, and his father's power too.
It all raced through him. The Dark Lords immeasurable and merciless magic, Daphne's familiar unshackled ice storm, both uncontrollable in different ways. Both added to his own. Both trying to rip everything apart.
His father's magic began to pour itself into Daphne's. . . augmenting it, doubling it, tripling it. Creating a tornado of dark power inside of him. His skin tingled and shone with an iridescent glow. The massive waves of new force thundered beneath his skin with every beat of his heart.
Harry exhaled and paused, he stopped masking his presence and their combined magic. Flicking open the gates so that everyone in the room felt the true extent of their combined powers.
The effect was instantaneous.
The Order members were not even close to being prepared. And it was clear that it took everything they had not to fall to their knees in terror, as his father's oppressing presence pushed violently against their mental defences.
Mad-Eye shot him a look of incredulity.
Shadows danced in the air around them. Dark mist raced through the air, darkening every object, every corner, every space. Raw darkness, unlike anything they had ever experienced before, threatened to consume the room. Eating and smothering every single bit of light.
Moody cursed, as the temperature of the entire room abruptly dropped far below zero. Ice formed on the ground, on the ceiling, on the walls.
Harry adjusted his torn robes as laughed.
"Sweet Merlin," murmured Minerva McGonagall gaping at the scene, she pinched herself as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. Ice formed all around them. Freezing and swallowing everything in its path. The rope she had been transfiguring froze rapidly. She pulled her hand free with a grimace.
Less than a second later, every single Order member had their feet frozen in place, but the ice wouldn't stop there. With crunching sounds, it slowly made its way up their legs, climbing up their bodies. Burning them with cold.
They struggled while they shivered and thrashed around in pain, trying to break free.
"Stop!" Shouted a shaking McGonagall. "Don't let the ice touch your skin."
A dozen curses and spells were fired towards the ice, but it just kept coming. Never stopping, threatening to freeze every last one of them.
Harry raised his wand, fascinated at the display.
And in that exact moment, a bird's high-pitched screech came from outside the building and a streak of orange light lit up the windows facing the entrance of the house. Some darkness retreated, replaced by the blinding light of the new presence.
Albus Dumbledore was here, just outside the house.
Harry—free of any ice or cold—cursed.
"ALBUS, GET IN HERE QUICKLY!" yelled Mad-Eye at the top of his lungs.
Harry heard the words and panic flooded him. He needed to leave, right now. This power was not going to last long. The effects it would have in his body, after he stopped using it, were not pleasant and would most likely render him unable to fight for at least a couple hours.
He turned and looked back at the scene. Three Order members, all seconds away from being consumed and killed.
Almost.
They would all survive. Harry was sure of that. And while Dumbledore was busy trying to save them, he needed to flee. That was a battle best left for his father. He didn't know if Dumbledore was more powerful than him, but he would be a fool to fight him alone, tired and surrounded by his little followers.
He stared at the big, bordered window in resignation.
He groaned. They were on the third floor.
His feet began to move.
Bracing himself for the impact, his muscles tensed as he crashed, shoulder first, through the window that faced the back of the house.
Even with his magic cushioning the fall he landed on the alley floor hard. He picked himself up and dusted off what was left of his clothes.
Seemingly out of nowhere Harry staggered as if he had been struck, but nothing had physically hit him. After a brief moment he felt it, something had entered his occlumency shields, bypassing wall after wall, defense after defense, as if they were nothing more than smoke. Piercing green eyes turned towards the beautiful silver haired witch standing at the end of the alley—blocking his exit.
He watched mesmerize as the wind blew her hair, the way the sun's rays reflected on her perfect skin. Her large blue eyes, so different from the ones he knew. The glint in them promised unending pleasure. Her sultry lips seemed to inch closer to his. The gentle swell of her breasts and the flowing curves of her hips were a vision to behold.
Thoughts of desire made their way into his mind before another thought stopped him dead.
VEELA!
As if the word was a locking mechanism, thousands of new walls sprung across his mindscape. His magic swirled and speeded up, chasing after the intrusive magic within his mind. After a few seconds, and with an almost tender hold—he managed to grab the tendril of foreign magic inside him.
He smirked in triumph and with a single thought, he pulled and twisted, pouring in it all his desire and lust, injecting it with as much of his own magic as he could. . . before pushing it back with every fibre of his being—sending it straight towards his foe.
The astonishment Fleur Delacour felt at seeing the Dark Prince fight off her powers was something she would never forget. That astonishment however, only lasted for a couple seconds and before she knew what was happening. . . her own allure had been turned against her.
She hadn't been able to see his features before, but now his messy black locks were so perfect that they should have been drawn by all the best artists. His penetrating emerald eyes could light up the whole alley. Looking back years from now, Fleur would say that's where her troubles began. Those eyes. Those damn eyes. She watched spellbound as a different world swirled inside them. Dangerous. Exciting. Mesmerizing. The temptation was almost too much, inviting her to join him. Her heart began to beat frantically in her chest. His chiselled jaw and his lips called for her to touch and kiss them in ways she had never done before. She had seen handsome men, but never someone quite like this. Half his shirt was torn off, revealing the well-defined muscles beneath his clothes. Heat pooled in her abdomen and warmed her core. She gulped, and for the first time since she could remember, a blush rose to her cheeks.
Her eyes glazed over.
She didn't even notice when he simply walked past her towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards. Her head was still filled with thoughts of his well-toned body and his fearless smirk when the signature loud crack of apparition echoed.