Main Staircase, Potter Manor.
Sirius deftly dodged the flying teacup, flinching as the fine china exploded against the wall behind him.
"Good morning, Harry." He grinned, backing away from his seething godson. "Sleep well?"
"You roofied me!"
"You begrudge an old man his failing eyesight?"
"This isn't funny!"
"It's a little funny."
He dodged a flying vase.
"As your godfather and magical guardian, it is my duty to ensure your health."
"So you drugged me?!"
"You haven't properly slept in weeks." Sirius shrugged. "Potion dependance is a very dangerous thing."
"I'm not a child, Sirius!"
"Then stop acting like one." Sirius grinned. "It's good to see you ruffled. You haven't been ruffled in a good while."
"WHY are you in such a good mood?" Harry sighed in exasperation. "Yes. I slept well. I haven't felt this good in weeks. Fuck you."
"I made a new friend."
"You going to introduce me?"
"You know him already. Tall, dark, and half-blood."
"Riddle?" Harry perked up. "How?"
"He came over, wanting to thank you for saving his life. He found me to make much more agreeable conversation."
"Find out anything useful?"
"A rather dull end to the puzzle, I'm afraid." Sirius led the way to the dining room where Nipsy was popping in and out to lay the table for a late brunch. "Tom Riddle produced a bastard with Merope Gaunt, which is likely what got him killed. Our Tom Riddle is the bastard's son."
"Confirm this with the parents?" Harry asked.
"Be pretty hard without the Resurrection Stone. Riddle's an orphan, grew up in an orphanage and everything."
"That's awfully convenient." Harry groused, scarfing down an English breakfast.
"Not all orphans have a deep dark secret, Harry."
Harry shrugged.
"We're throwing him a fundraiser on Thursday. I took the liberty to invite Greengrass and the Malfoys."
Harry choked.
"In exchange for answers, I agreed to endorse him. To legitimise his campaign. And considering our other options, I'd put my money on the Half-Blood teacher over the blood purist and Voldemort supporter any day."
"Wouldn't you rather want to take a chance on a Devil we know?"
"Then get to know him, Harry." Sirius shrugged. "You'll see him Thursday anyway."
"Maybe I'll just stay in."
Sirius' grin broadened.
"You're hosting it in the manor, aren't you?"
Daphne shuddered as the effects of the Pepper-Up took hold. With permission from the Foremost Unspeakable, Croaker, she had gained custody of the Ledger until the daily Intermission. She had already made her way from 'Abbot' to 'Partridge', tracing the glyphs for each name by hand. She didn't want to risk her own magic throwing off the symbols.
As she recorded the associated glyphs for 'Pinescrew', she felt the locket on her chest cool to near freezing. She swore softly. Holding the heavy, leather-bound Ledger under her arm, she made her way out, into the Hall of Doors.
"Leaving a bit early, Gazer?" Another Unspeakable asked.
"I've been here all night, Rector." She answered, recognising the other Unspeakable by the pattern of their cloak.
As a rule, the identities of the Unspeakables were kept completely secret. Cloaks and heavy robes obscured hair and body shape, while specially crafted charms gave every Unspeakable the same voice.
"Croaker says overtime doesn't reduce normal working hours."
"I'm taking my lunch break early."
She entered the Turning Room, an enchanted exit to the department that would take anyone who entered it to a random, unoccupied bathroom somewhere in the area of the Ministry, allowing Unspeakables to retain their hidden identity by not being seen entering the Ministry, nor leaving. In fact, only visitors to the DoM ever used the main entrance.
Daphne arrived in what was clearly a muggle public restroom. After charming her robes into something more casual, Daphne apparated away. She reappeared in a familiar alley, just around the corner to the restaurant she visited weekly with her sister.
"Hello Tori." She smiled. "What was so important that I had to rush over immediately?"
"Please tell me you've checked your mail!"
"No, I haven't had the time today."
"You haven't been home you mean."
"No point in denying it."
"No point scolding you either." Astoria laughed easily. "Besides, I'm much too excited!"
She slid a page of parchment across the table.
"The seal of House Potter." Daphne noted slyly. "Why Tori, does Draco know?"
"Read it." Astoria smiled like a Cheshire cat.
"A fundraiser..." Daphne frowned. "For Riddle? That's... unexpected."
"I'd wager my last knut that you got one too."
"Why would Riddle ask me to attend a fundraiser?"
"Not Riddle." Astoria rolled her eyes. "Harry, you blonde bimbo."
"Rude." Daphne admonished. "And Potter has more than enough money. He could front Riddle's whole campaign if he wanted."
"We're going." Astoria asserted. "Draco has already agreed, and you're going to as well."
"Tori, I have work. I can't go around attending balls every week."
"What makes your work any more important than mine?"
"That's not what I said."
"It will be good for you." Astoria reached over, taking her sister's hand. "You spend day and night in the dark, with people just as introverted as you are."
"I happen to like it that way."
"It can't be healthy."
"I know a good healer."
"Why are you being so stubborn about this?!"
"Because at the last ball we attended we nearly died?!" Daphne hissed. "Because the fundraiser is being held by Harry 'I've-been-a-target-of-death-eater-attacks-since-I-was-a-baby' Potter?!"
Astoria glared.
"That was a public function."
"Oh yes, I'm sure the Dark Lord will refrain from attacking an event unless he has express permission to be on the premises."
Astoria turned away, pouting, before a look came over her face that made Daphne very nervous. Astoria had a plan.
"Then we'll make sure he has the right security for the function."
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked cautiously.
"If you're so afraid for Potter's safety, then we make sure he has an Auror guard present."
"At a fundraiser?"
"Are you afraid of being attacked at the fundraiser or not? Make up your bloody mind."
"I just mean that if Potter wanted to legitimise Riddle's campaign, then having Auror security on hand might send the wrong message. It would definitely discourage more than a few of the Neutral Houses from attending."
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong!" Astoria grinned. "As you well know, Riddle is an enigma. A half-blood Gaunt? I'd give my knickers if the schemers aren't falling over themselves to get an invitation."
"Gross." Daphne deadpanned. "But I think you may be right. I'll admit, I am curious myself."
"So you'll go?"
"Fine."
"Yes!" Delight lit up the younger woman's eyes.
"Why are you so keen on me going anyway?"
Astoria attempted, nobly, to wipe her face clear of emotion.
"I just think it would be fun."
Daphne raised an elegant eyebrow.
"And Harry's our friend. And we should support him."
"Britain's changed a lot since he left." Daphne said quietly. "It could well be he doesn't realise how much danger he is in."
It was a dark and stormy night. Raindrops clattered on the roof, and fell softly against the glass panes of the storefront.
Garrick Olivander flicked his wand, sealing the doors until morning. He suspected the storm would get much worse before the night was done. With a second flick of his wand, the lamps in the storefront winked out, one by one, as he ascended the polished wood staircase, taking the steps carefully. He paused at the top, a small smile breaking on his face.
"I will admit..." He turned, facing where he knew his visitor to be. With some delight, he noted that his wards were still up and the doors and windows still closed. "I had been expecting you for quite some time... quite some time..."
Lightning flashed, silently, in the distance, lining the feathered cloak with silver light.
"You're Miss Granger's Chimera then, I take it?"
"I need a wand."
"A bit late to go to Hogwarts now, isn't it?" Despite his words, Olivander turned and made his way down the stairs. "Fourteen years too late, by my estimate. Hold out your wand hand, please. Dragonhide? Oh that will never do. Magical resistance is also magical interference, but you already knew that. Take it off, please."
The black glove slid free, revealing a hand, pale in the moonlight.
"What a life you've lived... extraordinary..." Olivander summoned his measuring tape, sending it flying around Harry.
"Don't you need the light?"
"My dear boy..." Olivander smiled, eyes pale in the gloom of the shop. "I know this shop better than you could imagine. It speaks to me in a way only centuries of companionship can. Besides, I know you feel more comfortable in the dark."
Through his spectrespecs, Harry could see the shop in a clear, colourless light. Olivander removed a long, thin box from near the top of the closest shelf.
"Buckthorn and dragon heartstring. Thirteen inches. Give it a swish."
"I don't think so... Buckthorn is too passive."
"If you already knew the wand you needed," Olivander scolded. "Why come to me?"
Harry reluctantly accepted the wand, feeling a cold sensation run through his arm as the wand emitted a low wail.
"How about this one? White Oak and Unicorn tail hair."
A dozen wands later, Harry held up a hand to forestall the next offer.
"Can I take a look around?"
"This isn't a grocery store." Olivander harrumphed. "But I suppose there is no harm in it."
Harry slowly made his way through the shelves of wands, pausing to run his hand along the boxes.
"I trained under Mathilda Pavlinova." He spoke quietly, feeling the humming and pulsing of the wands, each calling softly to him.
"And how is the old bat?" Olivander smiled fondly. "Still hard as stone, I'd imagine. And twice as stubborn."
"She said something similar about you." Harry smiled, pausing to focus on the pull. "The wand chooses the Wizard... she always said. And as such..."
Harry removed a short, dark green box from low on the bottom shelf.
"Curious..." Olivander remarked, pulling the curved, dark wand from its box. "Very curious. Holly, Dragon Heartstring, Hungarian Horntail if you must know, seven and a quarter inches. Rigid."
"Why is that curious?"
"I made one, very similar to it, and yet quite different."
"Different how?"
"Well, both were Holly, wood harvested from the same tree on the same day. Yet the wand that is the cousin to yours, has a Phoenix feather core. A Phoenix who only ever gave one other feather."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Twelve years ago, thirteen in a few months, I was visited by a young man who needed a wand. He'd lost his duelling, he'd said. I recognised him, of course, the moment he stepped into my store. It didn't take me long to know which wand he was destined for... So similar, yet so different, just like their wands..."
"You wouldn't be telling me this without a reason." Harry secured his newly acquired wand in a holster on his leg. "Who do the wands belong to?"
"One, our Ministerial hopeful, Mr Tom Riddle. The other..." Olivander's voice grew cold. "The wizard who gave you that scar."
A thunderclap punctuated Olivander's words. He knew, if he turned around to look, Harry would no longer be there. He also knew that on his desk, flashing golden in time with the lightning, three stacks of five galleons rested.
Harry carefully transfigured another bristle of the broom. It was a delicate process, permanent transfiguration without leaving residual magic. Slow too.
Self-control was one of his fatal flaws, Harry knew. As a recent example, his impatience to get to the DMLE evidence chambers led him to assault the Aurors in his way, instead of sneaking past. He'd justified it at the time by telling himself he needed to get out as quickly as possible, before Granger recognised him.
Then he had allowed himself to get carried away, beating Chambers. His focus had so narrowed on causing the Death Eater as much pain as possible that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings, which had allowed Granger to banish the desk into him.
That had been more than a mistake, it was a startling oversight. Ever since he began crafting his uniform and devising its protections, he had been too narrow minded.
Some parts were basic, like the dark, loose fitting clothes to maximise stealth and mobility. Dragonhide boots and gloves, magically resistant, and protective against cuts. A simple, leather belt adorned with magically expanded pouches to house emergency potions, vials, string and parchment for taking samples, and portkeyes directly to the Manor or St Mungo's.
His enchanted mask, however, was more complex. Devised from similar artefacts Magical Japan had used in its feudal days, it rendered his face formless while he wore it, ensuring even objects that grant Magical Vision, like Granger's eye, could not identify him behind the mask.
To ensure he had all the knowledge possible, he created Specrespecs, a variant on the concept created by the late, brilliant Luna Lovegood, allowing him to see many wards and enchantments, in near perfect darkness, as well as many effects on the magical spectrum.
Finally, the single greatest achievement of his life, his cloak. While studying Chakra and Potioncraft under master Devika Patil in Magical India, as part of an alchemy trial, he had to create the traditional Aishwarya Academy charm. Part of the components was a petrified Phoenix feather. Harry had nurtured a Basilisk from birth and, eventually, killed it as part of the trial of Reincarnation. While Harry wasn't convinced of the spirituality of the trial, he could appreciate the need for there not to be half a dozen domesticated basilisks released into the wild every year.
After leaving Magical India, Harry had spent a fortune acquiring phoenix feathers, sourced from all over the world, and raised a second basilisk on Black Island, spending weeks safely petrifying the feathers. Harry had donated the basilisk to the French Magical Creature Preserve where it was happily kept behind safely enchanted screens in its own enclosure.
Unable to use magic on the feathers at all, and with them healing any attempts at sewing, Harry had to get creative, punching the ends of the feathers through black Acromantula silk and binding the hafts on both sides with magically shrunken rings.
Harry still had a bolt of black silk and a sealed crate of petrified feathers, in case he ever needed to replace his cape, even though he knew it to be basically indestructible.
He had thought that he was prepared for anything. Then Granger had banished a desk at him.
Harry had been so confident in the magical resistance of his cloak, he had been completely blind to the idea of being physically attacked, the very advantage he himself relied on when dealing with Magical targets of his own.
After his visit to Olivander, Harry had conceded to Sirius' pleas and refrained from going out as 'the Chimera' again, until he found a solution. The day of the fundraiser had dawned, and Harry had spent the entire day working on his broom. The shaft, black and glossy, floated a foot from the workshop table, jittering and stabilising as Harry added more transfigured bristles.
After more frustration, Harry had crafted the levitation circuit using cast gold instead of transfigured gold, and to his delight, it had worked like a charm. By his estimate, he had around a day's work left.
"If you get broom polish on that waistcoat," Sirius warned, leaning against the workshop wall.
"I will disown you."
"You couldn't stand Draco as your heir."
"You ready?
"Sure." Harry cast a quick cleaning charm, removing what little grime sullied his appearance.
"Here." Sirius threw Harry a potion vial. Without looking, Harry snapped his left hand up, catching the vial between his index and middle finger. "I still say that you were a pro-seeker in another life."
Harry downed the Pepper-Up, throwing the vial over his shoulder and catching it deftly, behind his back, with his other hand.
"Think so?" Harry smirked, twirling the now empty vial between his fingers.
"Show off." Sirius handed him an off-white dress jacket, lined in dark red silk to match Harry's waistcoat. "Ready to play the part of the gracious host?"
"Hold on, this whole operation was your idea!"
"Let's not forget that you saved Riddle's life. And you're the boy-who-lived."
"I'm the man-who's-growing-very-tired-of-that-nickname."
"Is it any worse than 'the-man-who-loves' from your very public misunderstanding with Miss Delacour?"
"Don't remind me." Harry groaned. "But do remind me never to go drinking with a veela again. No matter what fraction the heritage is."
"As if I'd rob you of that godsend."
They walked in companionable silence across the hall to the West Wing, where the largest ballroom could be found.
"You'll never guess who'll be leading our Auror detachment."
"Granger."
"The Chief Auror herself." Sirius grinned. "She'll want to do a sweep of the grounds when they arrive, which should be any moment now."
"Anything else I should be aware of?" Harry grumbled.
"Let's see…" Sirius stroked his trimmed goatee. "Lord Partridge is likely to bring his mistress, under the guise of his business partner."
"So steer clear of questions about his wife."
"Riddle is likely to be ruffled if you draw too much attention."
"So stay close enough to him to draw crowds his way, but out of his circle so as not to be the centre of attention."
"It sure doesn't sound like you need advice."
Harry shrugged.
"It helps to pass the time."
Dark cloaked figures gathered in a worn down manor, their faces obscured by the gloom of the room, apart from where shafts of darkening evening light broke through holes in the roof and walls.
"Auror Granger." Harry grinned pleasantly. "What a surprise."
"I'm sure." Granger replied in her signature deadpan. "Would you mind if we took a moment to secure the grounds?"
"Not at all. Would you like an escort?"
"I'd be delighted." Hermione looked over Harry's shoulder, making eye contact with Sirius. "Lord Black? If you'd lead the way."
As they walked off, Sirius barely containing his laughter, a tall red-haired Auror stepped up to Harry.
"Can't win 'em all, Lord Potter." He held out a hand in greeting. "Christopher Fairview."
"Pleasure."
"Come on. Let me introduce you to the lads."
Unseen to either of them, a pale skinned Auror placed a bag of wooden chess pieces behind a vase on the mantlepiece above the fireplace, then moved to join her companions.
"We've been keyed into the wards." A black robed figure announced. "Now we wait."
"Harry!"
Harry smiled brightly as Astoria hugged him in greeting.
"Evening, Potter." Draco said, suppressing a smile.
"Lord Malfoy." Harry said with pretend austerity to match Malfoy's.
"This place looks incredible!"
"Thanks." Harry laughed. "Interior decoration is one of my many talents."
"And what would your other talents be?" Daphne asked with a sly grin.
"I could show you sometime, if you'd like…"
"Come on Draco…" Astoria tugged on her husband's arm. "Let's go greet Lord Partridge."
Harry smiled fondly as the two departed.
"So the decor is to your liking?" Harry asked after greeting another set of guests.
"A bit understated perhaps." Daphne mocked consideration. "Though I've always been fond of silver."
"Sirius and I had a debate on the colour scheme." Harry admitted. "Despite my claims earlier, interior decoration is not one of my strong suits."
"Deception, deception." Daphne tutted. "I wonder how many of your other hidden talents will turn out as disappointing."
Harry felt himself go red under his cosmetic charms.
"Lord Partridge!" As ever, Sirius' voice was clearly heard, even some distance away. "How's your wife?"
"Lord Potter." A calm voice greeted.
"Mr Riddle." Harry accepted the hand in greeting. "Content with the festivities?"
"If I rubbed any more elbows, my skin would come off."
"I know what you mean." Harry laughed. "You know Lady Daphne Greengrass of the Most Noble House Greengrass?"
"Oh yes." Tom grinned. "We are… quite well acquainted."
Harry had to focus on keeping his smile from becoming a sneer.
"Professor."
"I've told you many times now, my dear. Call me Tom."
"I'm surprised Professor Dumbledore isn't here." Harry cut in, feigning a look over the crowd. "As Sirius tells it, he's all but scaled the walls trying to get in the manor."
"He's been called away to some urgent business with the ICW."
Harry thought he saw a moment of concern flash across the other man's face.
"Unexpected business I take it?"
Riddle considered Harry carefully.
"In my career at Hogwarts, I've only ever heard of one other occasion where the ICW called Albus away on urgent business without prior notice…'
"When was that?"
"The fourth of June, 1992…" Daphne whispered quietly. "The night the Dark Lord stole the philosopher's stone…"
"Apparate outside the wards. We don't want to set off any alarms."
He kicked open a dark, wooden chest, revealing numerous silver masks carved like decorated skulls.
"We walk up together."
"Oh! There he is right now!" Astoria waved as the trio made their way over. "Let me introduce you, this is-"
"Have you seen Sirius?" Harry spoke quickly. "It's important."
"He was talking to one of the Aurors, last I saw. Why? What's going on?"
Harry stiffened, hearing the dull chime of the arrival wards.
Out on the grounds, Sirius walked with his arm slung over the shoulder of a much younger Auror. She had been making eyes at him all evening, and finally it seemed, she had gotten him all to herself.
"Now what was it you wanted me to see?" He whispered.
"Oh, you won't miss it…" She grinned.
Sirius noted a rather conspicuous amount of malice behind the grin. He sure knew how to pick 'em. Movement by the gate caught his eye. Behind the gilded bars, a group of dark robed figures were walking towards the manor.
"Merlin… Are those-"
He saw no more as he dropped limply to the grass.
"The Dark Lord sends his regards." The Auror sneered, waving her wand in a complicated motion. "Morsmordre!"
As the sickly green light and mist began forming the shape of a Skull and Snake, the Auror tapped her wand on the gates, watching in satisfaction as they melted away. Unnoticed for the moment, Nipsy popped in and quickly disappeared again, taking Sirius with her.
"Just stun me good." The Auror insisted. "I need to be unconscious when they find me."
"We'll need to make it convincing, I'm afraid." The lead Death Eater ran a finger along his wand. "Sorry, Janice."
She screamed as the blasting curse hit her squarely in the chest, sending her flying from the impact.
"Where's Black?"
"Doesn't matter. We're not here for him."
They ascended the pathway to the manor, leaving the Auror lying on the grass, choking behind a fractured back and ribs.
"Granger. Thank Merlin." Harry found the Auror near the balcony. "I need you, Sirius is missing."
"I didn't realise your godfather needed a babysitter." She tilted her head his way, but he got the feeling she wasn't looking at him. After a moment, the colour drained from her face completely. She whipped her wand through the air. Harry's ears rang from the resulting sound. When he looked around, Granger was running down the hallway towards the ballroom.
"Granger?" Fairview leapt in beside her.
"What's going on, Chief?" Nero, the only centaur on her squad, added while cantering towards them.
"Get everyone evacuated, now!"
A scream ripped through the bustle, in the direction of the ballroom. Six, black robed figures entered the hallway, and before she could blink, the hallway bristled with curses. Fragments of marble exploded over them as a stray spell impacted the wall.
Hermione leapt forward, kicking a table over and taking cover behind it. Using her eye, she could see twelve more Death Eaters, six in the Ballroom where guests crowded in a panic, and six on the grounds, slowly circling into the manor. She whipped around the table, catching a Death Eater off guard as he left cover. He slumped as the stunner took him in the chest.
"Try to stun them!" Hermione shouted over the sound. "I want answers, not corpses!"
"We're outnumbered!" Fairview called, narrowly avoiding a sickly yellow streak of light.
Hermione mantled the table, slashing her wand diagonally before taking cover in an indent in the wall as her spell severed the support for a heavy, marble pillar. Two Death Eaters cried out as it collapsed on top of them.
"They're outgunned." Hermione growled. "Where the hell is Potter?"
Surprise almost made her gasp as she saw Potter run along the side of a wall, deftly speeding above a crush of terrified guests choking the corridor to the ballroom.
"We've got our own problems!" Nero called, pressing his body tight against the far wall to avoid spellfire from both ends of the hallway. "More coming!"
"Watch out!" The breath was nearly knocked from Tom's lungs as Diggory tackled him to the ground. A bright rending curse burst through the space from behind them. The Auror slashed his wand upwards, heaving the marble flooring up into a chest high barricade.
"Consider us even." Cedric's hair clung to his face with sweat.
Tom twisted his wand, relishing the scream of pain as a Death Eater's arms twisted into knots, bones snapping. The Dark robed wizard fell, moaning, on Cedric's unguarded side.
"Not exactly." Tom smirked, snagging a pale green spell with the tip of his wand and sending it flying back at its caster. Judging by the scream, the blood boiling curse had found flesh.
Harry stabbed his wand forward, banishing the nearest Death Eater to bounce off a wall, cracking the man's mask with a kick that sent him slumping to the floor. Another Death Eater noticed him, sending a string of curses his way.
"Sectumsempra!" Draco didn't stop to see the black robes beginning to glisten with blood. Two more Death Eaters were hurtling curses their way, and Daphne was rapidly mumbling healing spells over a pale-faced Astoria. He cried as a cutting curse took him in the side.
With a stab of his wand, Cedric caused a spike of marble to shoot up through his opponent's foot, decapitating him with a silent slashing hex. Over his shoulder, he saw Riddle twist his wand, and spared a shudder for the Death Eater who's legs crunched and popped, turning to odd angles. Riddle may have been using non-lethal spells, but Cedric suspected the Death Eaters were wishing he hadn't.
A spell to his back sent Harry flying. He gagged, reaching down to his potions pouch with numbing hands. His dulled fingers fumbled for a moment, then he plucked out two vials, downing a Healing Elixir and Decoction of Negation in quick succession. He breathed steadily as the potions took effect, searching the ground for his wand. He saw a Death Eater pass him by, taking careful aim towards Draco and a kneeling Daphne. Harry leapt to his feet, grabbing a dining chair, and smashed it over the Death Eater's head.
He kicked the table forward, sending it crashing into another Death Eater who fell to the ground with a yelp. Harry slid under the table, slamming a heel into the downed Death Eater's throat and snatching the man's wand from his fingers. Harry stunned him where he lay, whipping the stolen wand forward to stun another Death Eater in the back.
"Band together!" Riddle's voice rang in the ballroom. "Together we can overwhelm them!"
As if a spell of rage fell upon the cowering guests, some pulled out wands, sending weak stunners or jinxes at the still conscious Death Eaters while others took up glasses, vases and tableware, hurtling their makeshift projectiles at their assailants.
A cheer went up, running through the crowd as the last Death Eater fell, dispatched by a back-breaking curse from Tom.
"Good people!" He bellowed. "Tonight, you have sent these pathetic creatures a message!"
Another cheer. Harry noted Granger and her Aurors enter the ballroom.
"You have shown them that you have had enough!" He leapt onto a table, sleeve torn and bloodied, hair dishevelled. "You have said 'no more'! From tonight, we take back Magical Britain! We will not show fear again! We will let them see nothing but the light of our wands!"
The uproar shook the glass domes of the manor. Tom thrust his hand up, wand clenched in his fist.
"Down with the Death Eaters! Down with Voldemort!" Not a single gasp was uttered. Instead. The crowd took up the cry, wands held high.
"Down with Voldemort! Down with Voldemort! Down with Voldemort!"
Harry ran across the ballroom, skidding to a halt when he reached Draco and Daphne. Harry handed Daphne a bright red elixir, smelling of cinnamon, and watched as Astoria drank it.
"How'd I do?" Daphne whispered, holding her sister close.
"You make a fine healer." Astoria coughed through a beaming grin. "But your bedside manor needs work."
Tears ran down Daphne's cheeks as she hugged her sister.
Harry stared across the room where the cheer showed no signs of subsiding, eyes fixed on Riddle, shouting something Harry couldn't hear over the clamour. An unexpected feeling gripped him in that moment. A dark, unanticipated dread settled in his stomach at the sight.
Riddle's wand, held high over his adoring crowd, shone with red and gold sparks.
Unasked for, Olivander's words returned to him in that moment.
So similar… yet so different… just like their wands…
One our Ministerial hopeful… the other… the wizard who gave you that scar…
