Before I get any irritated reviews: Yes, I am aware that in real life, the Channel Tunnel is trains only.
Chapter XII
The moon was bright when Susan arrived, and the temperature was several degrees colder in northern England than it had been in London.
"What in Merlin's name…?"
She could see- there was something there. The last time she was here, Potter's Lodge had been levelled, destroyed by the Lestrange's attack. Yet, clearly visible in the moonlight, was a structure of some kind. It was unusual, not a proper house in any shape or form, more like- it was more like a hodge-podge of some kind of fabric, like a tent that was the size of a small cottage.
Susan took a step forward when the movement caught her eye. There was something awake, something moving, but she couldn't make out who- or even what it was in the darkness. Whatever it was that was coming towards her, it wasn't walking on two legs.
Cradling Edgar with one arm, she raised her newest wand (it being a marginally better match than Nott's) and fired a Stupefying Charm, the red light of her spell illuminating her pursuer as it landed. The strike offered her a clear glimpse of what was rapidly approaching.
It skittered forward on eight legs, skin a mottled grey like a decomposing corpse. Two large, hairy pincers capped large arms, and a pair of small and undersized wings flapped ineffectually on its back. Its face was blank, featureless; rather than eyes or a mouth, the creature only had a sea of antennae wafting back and forth.
For a moment, Susan's mind went completely blank. What was this- this monstrosity doing here? Her hesitation didn't last long; feeling her son's breath against her chest spurred her into action, her adrenaline pushing her battered and exhausted body to snap the wand up once more, firing off a Banishing Charm and a Reductor in swift succession. The banisher slowed the monster's advance, briefly, but the Reductor had no effect whatsoever.
Susan stumbled backwards as several tentacles rose around her ankles. Legs giving out, she fell onto the cold, hard ground, scrambling backwards as another horrifying monster approached from the side. This one had three humanoid legs, but its top half consisted entirely of a mass of writhing, inky-black tentacles that slid along outward, seeking her out.
She screamed, her terror-stricken cries echoing through the clearing. More shapes approached in the darkness, but she closed her eyes, too afraid to look. Curling her body around Edgar, she sobbed loudly. It was all just too much.
Was this really how it was going to end? She'd only lived long enough to spend a few hours with her son, rescuing him from wizards and muggles only to be torn apart by otherworldly horrors. Some mother she'd turned out to be.
Her body hurt so, so much. She knew there was no way she could stand, or walk, but Edgar's quiet cry opened her eyes. Inches away from her face was a massive, unblinking eyeball, wings beating a slow rhythm above her. What had happened here? What were these things?
"Susan?"
At the sound of her name, Susan lifted her gaze past the floating eyeball, tracing a path up a pair thin legs clad in frayed and dirty trousers, a thick woolen sweater, all the way to-
"Luna?"
"-again, you have to let go of the button when you have finished speaking. Do you understand, over."
Mauro let out of a frustrated sigh. This muggle contraption was even more irritating than he'd expected it to be. "I understand."
There was quiet for several seconds, then the voice responded. "End your sentences with 'over', so that I know you're finished. Over."
"I understand. Over." He didn't know who it was his brother had hired to communicate with him over this infernal device, but he was sure they were smug and young.
"The family requests further details about Britain's isolation, over."
Ah, of course. Alessio no doubt had concerns over what sort of magic had closed Britain off from the rest of the international community. "In exchange for a considerable amount of coin, an Unspeakable let slip that it was Confederation personnel that initiated this enchantment. It has something to do with the Albion." Silence again, before Mauro belatedly added, "Over."
"What is the situation inside the country, over."
"Magical Britain teeters on the brink of disaster. Supplies for potions are nearly exhausted, and rumors of a dragon pox outbreak have the population panic-stricken. At least two different groups are engaged in armed resistance, and there exists friction between the French and American occupiers. Over."
"The family's attempts at sending ingredients through nonmagical channels have all failed. The embargo is thus far impenetrable. Over."
Mauro was surprised. It had been nearly two months since this barrier had been put in place. If the Zabinis had been unable to ferret out a workaround… well, that didn't bode very well at all. "What- there must be some hope!"
The voice paused, but when he spoke again there was no rebuke for violating proper communication protocol. "A family asset is making his way towards Britain. We'll be watching, to evaluate his interaction with the barrier. Stay strong, the family is not idle. Over, and out."
October 31, 1996
Things were terrible. Daphne couldn't tear her eyes away from Harry, but he hadn't looked at her once since… since that had happened. They still traveled together, but beyond terse commands, they exchanged no words, not even a discussion of her immunity to his magical outpouring.
He'd been right, it had only required a short ride for them to make it to Calais. She was nervous, hesitant to return to England, even though they were so close that Daphne could physically see England from where they stood. Even with the worry she felt for Tori, for Sirius, still; after everything she'd seen in Harry's mind, she was no longer so confident about watching him step forward once more to kill and possibly be killed.
What a difference a day makes. If they made it through to England, would he even stay with her, or would he ship her off to Hogwarts and go back to acting on his own? She could hardly blame him if he abandoned her for someone- someone that he could trust. Hell, if their roles were reversed, she'd have abandoned him in that forest outside of Ghent.
And damn it all, even after what she'd seen, even after being forced to face how flawed and possessive and, yes, even bitter her feelings were, she couldn't stop loving him. Merlin, if she could wish it away, she would! But seeing his vulnerabilities, his secrets laid bare in that way - even if both of them might have preferred them not to be exposed - only made her ache for him more. After all, Slytherin or not, it was easier to love a flawed and remorseful man than a ruthless and hard-hearted killer.
"He is, brother, yes?" asked the woman next to her. Daphne supposed that her staring was rather obvious, focusing on Harry who was conversing with a black man just out of earshot.
"No, we're not related," she replied, dragging her eyes off of Harry to regard the dark-skinned woman, perhaps ten years older than them.
Hair covered by a light-colored headdress, the woman had a kind face, even if it was far too thin, her cheeks hollowed with hunger. "Husband? He very… very, ah, beautiful."
She had to smile at the woman's broken English. "Not husband. Friend," 'I hope we're that, still' "Where are you from?"
"Iran. Many months of travel to come there," she said, pointing across the Channel. "My uncle, he live in, in 'Lawn-dun'."
"I see. I hope you can make it to him soon."
"Let's go." Harry had approached while she conversed with her new friend, speaking harshly and not waiting for her to respond before turning and walking away.
She hurried to catch up. "Where are we going?"
"These people, they're all trying to sneak past the border like we are. It's risky, but apparently they try pretty often."
"Try what, exactly?"
"They jump on the top of lorries and try to make it past the muggle border security. More often than not, they get caught and sent right back here."
"What's a lorry?"
Harry pointed towards the highway, where several commercial vehicles were mixed among personal automobiles. "There. The big ones."
She gulped. "We're going to- to jump onto that? While it's moving?"
"Like I said, the others do it all the time," Harry shrugged. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. We'll make our move once the sun goes down."
"Wait! How does a lorry drive across the water?"
A dog with mottled white and brown fur trotted over, it's nose snuffling at Harry. He gave it a few pats before shoo-ing it away and opening his trunk and pulling out their sleeping bags, he tossed one over and unrolled his own. "The muggles built a rail line and a road inside of several hollow stone tubes; it runs beneath the English Channel to Dover. They call it the Channel Tunnel."
The dog wandered off, sitting on its hind legs and staring at them from several paces away. Daphne wanted to talk more but Harry had crawled into his bag, rolling onto his side facing away from her.
Things were terrible.
"You can't keep me here."
"We've done a pretty good job so far, I'd say."
Astoria sat in the corner of the once small cottage, judicious use of Expansion Charms having nearly tripled its square footage. She was ostensibly playing a game of wizard's chess with Sirius but really observing the byplay between Neville and the American auror.
"I don't even know why Nymphadora brought me here! I rescued them, wasn't that enough? Did you have to take me prisoner?"
Neville chuckled. "I wouldn't let Tonks hear you call her that. Besides, you staged a prison break and fired spells against your former comrades. What do you think is going to happen if we send you back?"
The American - Wally, she remembered - sat stoically in the simple wooden chair in the center of the room. "Like I've told you before, I'm aware of the consequences and I'm willing to face them."
"And what good would that do anyone, least of all you?" A new voice asked from the entrance, as Tonks stepped inside. "How's everyone doing?"
Astoria eyed the American with abject fascination, noting the way his features became animated for the first time since Neville had started questioning him once more. "Nymphadora, you shouldn't be wandering about. You're almost certainly still wanted."
Her hair shifting into long, golden curls that she flipped over her shoulder, Tonks laughed heartily. "Oh, people have wanted me since I was Neville's age. I've got ways to not stand out in a crowd. Feel like getting out of this stuffy little cabin? Maybe take a walk in the woods with me?"
Wally immediately agreed, and the two of them stepped outside. Neville ran a hand over his face and ambled over to the corner she and Sirius sat in.
"Who's winning?"
"I'm going easy on her."
"Sure you are," Neville grinned. "Hope Tonks can get him to cooperate, we need him talking."
"Something tells me that she'll have his lips too occupied for him to get a word out," came the cheeky response from Sirius, winking at Astoria as his rook took her bishop. "After what she went through, she could use a little happiness."
"We all could do with a little of that," Tori grumbled, taking the rook with a knight. "Does he have some secrets you need to know or something?"
"Or something," Neville replied with a wink, slapping Sirius' shoulder in congratulations as he put her in checkmate. "Why don't you go gather your schoolbooks and find Remus? Professor McGonagall is coming by later, too, she said she'd spend some time with you going over your transfiguration."
"Stop," she commanded, irritation evident on her face. "Don't do that. I'm in this as deep as you are, in case you forgot."
"Tori…"
"I'm not asking to go into battle but stop treating me like a kid! Do you know how hard it is to be stuck here, everyone talking around but not at me?"
Neville looked at Sirius, who gave a halfhearted shrug in reply, seemingly content to stay out of this. "It's not like she has anyone she can tell."
"So what is it? Why is he important?"
Stepping back to the center of the room to snag the chair that the American had been seated in, Neville returned and sat down with the two of them. Astoria immediately dragged her chair closer to his. "The people are scared and desperate. We want to help them but the fact is, without any international trade, key ingredients are running out. We can't let this go on."
"You heard back from Croaker?" Sirius asked.
He nodded. "Great-Uncle Algie says that some people from the ICW arrived a few months ago, started tinkering with the Albion magics. I've got the passwords to get into the Department of Mysteries, but…"
"But the DoM is beneath the Ministry, which is crawling with American aurors. Got it."
Astoria reached out for Neville's hand, leaning closer. "This sounds dangerous."
"Nah, piece of cake. Or at least it will be if Jacobs gives us the patrol schedule of the Ministry guards."
She tried not to sigh, wondering why everyone in her life seemed so determined to take these sorts of risks.
Outside, Tonks walked through the light forest that surrounded Remus' cottage.
"How is your mother?"
"She's fine, went into hiding with my dad at a… deceased relative's former home." She didn't bother with the details, knowing that an American wouldn't understand the irony of a disowned daughter of the Blacks and her muggleborn husband living at the Lestrange's ancestral home. "Are your parents still alive?"
He bumped her shoulder with his, shooting her a mock glare. "I'm in my early twenties, what do you think? Yea, they are. We- they live in California. A small wizarding community near Round Mountain. Dad's as much in love with Herbology as he is with my mom; he's a farmer, raises crops. My mom helps him out, and she tutors the kids too young for Ilvermorny to make a little extra coin."
"That sounds like a nice place to grow up."
His eyes unfocused, and his voice softened. "Rolling hills, thick forests. It rains a lot in northern California, and most days when you wake up, the fog hugs the mountainside like a heavy, wet blanket."
Tonks watched him reminisce for a moment, then spoke up. "I always pictured California as sunny beaches, warm oceans; you know, surfin' USA, like, totally, dude," she tried out a - in her opinion - pretty spot on California accent.
"It's a big state. Is that really what Brits think Californians sound like?" he asked, laughing at her affectation.
"My dad's muggleborn, so I've seen a few movies. I doubt most wizards even know what California is, much less what they sound like," she sniffed, pretending to be offended at his laughter. "Sinistra said you met Harry while you were doing your Mastery?"
"In Charms, yea. First in my family to get one. Mom was- she liked to brag that it was because she taught me as a kid," he said, then his expression turned grave. "Probably- probably won't get to see them again."
"Don't say that."
"It's true, though. I can't help but think- you know, if I hadn't put off my service year, I would have finished my time in the aurors years ago. I never would have had to be part of this damn occupation, never would have turned on my country, never would have disappointed my parents-"
"Never would have saved me, or my mother," she interrupted softly, pulling him to a halt. "You'll see them again. When this is all over, they can come here and visit you. We've got mountains in Great Britain, too, you know."
"Yea?"
"They're not that all that tall, but I think that with the right company, it could be just as nice."
"Is that so?" She could see her face mirrored in his pupils as she drew near.
"Nym-" she kissed him, their lips touching briefly. It was short and sweet. "Nymphadora, I can't. I- there's someone back home."
Tonks kissed him again, harder this time. "This is your home now."
"How did you sleep?"
"Fine."
Luna tilted her head, then frowned. "Blnky said you were up and about most of the night."
"You're having me watched?" Susan said with obvious outrage.
"My family is curious about you, and the baby. Is- is he Harry's?"
"They're not your family! They're monsters!"
Luna slammed her hand down, the rough and poorly constructed table rocking perilously from her blow, the snarl she wore looking shockingly out of place on the teen's features. "Don't you talk that way about them! Not when you and Harry abandoned me!"
"We didn't, it wasn't that way, not at all!"
"We were supposed to be together! You said you'd take care of me, but you both forgot all about me! Well, I found a new family."
Tentacles slid their way up Luna's waist, wrapping around her shoulders almost as though cradling her. Susan visibly shivered. "What are you going to do to us? Whatever you think I did to you, my son, he- he's innocent-"
Luna stroked one of the tentacles, the way one would pet a purring cat. "Daddy always said it was important to be forgiving. He never thought badly of anyone, even when they were unkind to us."
Edgar let out of a sharp cry, and Susan soothed him, securing him more tightly in her makeshift wrap. "Come with us. We'll find a place away from the war, just the three of us, away from these… away from your new friends."
There was a sudden glow from the entrance to the hut, and Sunny made his first appearance of the day. 'She abandoned you once before, what is to stop her from doing so again?'
"You're not leaving, not when I finally got you back." Couldn't she see how much Luna had needed her? How could she turn away from her so easily? "I want you to stay with us, to be part of our family."
"I can't, I have to-"
"They're curious, about your son, I mean. I don't think they've seen a baby before," she said mildly, as Susan stiffened. "You don't need to worry. We'll protect you from anyone that would try to hurt you."
Susan's pale blue eyes burned with intensity as she stared at her. "I'm going to save you, Luna. I promise."
"Alright, if you say so," she replied casually. "Does Eddie like chocolate?"
There was a small outcropping, a gentle hill that some engineer had determined would be easier to build a road through rather than build over. Daphne noticed that lorries tended to accelerate as they approached, no doubt accustomed to regular attempts by other immigrants to board their vehicles from that spot.
"There must be another way," she said nervously. "This seems like a really bad idea."
Harry was looking away, eyeing the dog that had followed them to the ridge. "You don't have to come."
There was a distant rumbling and finally, a single lorry came into view, isolated from other traffic. Daphne could tell by the way that he tensed this would be the one. She reached out for his hand, letting out the barest of sighs when he didn't pull away, and as the lorry rushed forward, they leapt together, tumbling heavily onto the hard aluminum shell of the trailer.
It had worked. This insane, crazy, suicidal plan had actually worked! Daphne allowed a delirious giggle to burst from her lips, the sound immediately swallowed up by the roar of wind blasting in their faces as they sped along towards the entrance to the undersea tunnel. They each held on with both hands as they sped underground, ears popping as they steadily descended beneath the Channel.
They hadn't discussed a plan for how to get past the muggle border controls, so Daphne preoccupied herself by running through various ways they might bewitch the guards if necessary. Harry had mentioned that this tactic was not often successful for immigrants, after all. She was still planning when she and Harry slammed into a hard surface, the two of them tumbling along as the lorry continued beneath them, eventually rolling off of the top of the truck and falling onto the hard pavement below.
Bright lights blinded her, a deafening horn blared, and over it all, she could hear a squealing sound of skidding tires as the oncoming lorry rushed at them. She felt Harry grab her arm, jerking her behind him as he jumped to his feet, thrusting one arm forward.
The front of the huge muggle vehicle crumpled, as though it, too, had smashed into something, Harry's push halting it instantly. That didn't stop the momentum of the fully-loaded cargo trailer attached, the impact of his magical bludgeoning such that the eighteen-wheeler fish-tailed and went airborne, passing over the two of them with less than three feet of clearance, landing with a thunderous screech of tearing metal.
A passenger car barreled towards them, immediately banished to the side of the tunnel. More horns blared but by now, the cars were slowing, lining up in the face of the smashed lorry lying on its side.
"What was that? What happened?"
"I don't know," Harry replied, just as shaky as she was from the rush of being propelled into oncoming traffic.
Daphne took several steps towards the north, and just like when they were on top of the lorry, she ran head-first into a solid, invisible barrier. "There's something here, something blocking us."
Harry, who was still warily watching to make sure there were no other cars threatening them, glanced to where she stood. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that there's something here."
He approached, holding one hand out towards the invisible wall. "It's… it's magic, but not like any I've ever felt."
"Some kind of ward? Can we… is it possible to batter it down?"
"I don't know," he said slowly. They each pressed their magic against the barrier, but there was no flare from wards activating. There was no visible sign of anything, it was as though someone had erected a wall and then disillusioned it. "If so, it's not like any I've ever encountered."
"Wish I knew how to cast diagnostic charms," Daphne muttered. "What do we do now?"
He opened his mouth, but whatever he'd planned to say was interrupted by a series of cracks. On the other side of the barrier, more than twenty wizards in the white robes of the French magical police appeared, along with one hooded wizard in familiar black robes. Within seconds of their arrival, a disapparition jinx snapped into place.
"Harry Potter. We've been waiting for you."
"Those robes… you're just like that man in Hungary, and the other at Flamel's-"
The man nodded and lowered his hood, revealing an unremarkable and forgettable face. "Indeed. I am Quinctus. Unlike my unfortunate colleague, however, I have no intention of engaging you in a fair fight."
"What sort of magic is this? How did you know we would come this way?"
Quinctus stepped closer to the barrier, barely a foot away from either of them. "The Provisional Ministry of Magical Britain strengthened the areal magics around their borders. You'll find it to be quite impermeable."
"Seems to me that your trap is rather pointless. You're over there, and we're out here; what's your plan, wait for us to starve to death?"
The barest hint of a smile appeared on the man's face, and rather than reply, he merely raised one hand. A half-dozen Explosion Hexes shot towards them, and Harry and Daphne quickly conjured walls to intercept them.
"Avada Kedavra!" The Killing Curse came from Quinctus' wand, the tip barely poking through the magical boundary and flashed towards Daphne. She couldn't react fast enough, but Harry managed to blast her away with a banisher to the heavy muggle coat she'd transfigured, sending her spiraling backwards towards the stopped traffic.
Rolling to a stop, she reflexively held a hand out to raise a wall to block any spells, only to realize that not a single one of the aurors had bothered to fire at her. Instead, a barrage of spells were lighting up the area around Harry, blasting apart his conjurations and deflecting off of iron discs at an incredible rate.
For all that he was maintaining a furious defense, Daphne could see spells slipping through, near-misses by lethal curses and hits from ones whose effects he could endure. A bludgeoner snapped his head to the side, an incendio licked at his robes, a bone-breaker ruptured his hip. It was only a matter of time before something fatal landed.
Daphne raised both hands, recalling the very first time she'd seen Harry do magic. A blinding flash of light from her overpowered lumos lit the tunnel, granting Harry - who had his back to her - a brief respite and allowing him to create some distance between himself and the aurors.
No sooner had he turned his back to retreat, though, did Quinctus shout "Estocada Furiosa!", his wand expelling a cloud of narrow lights in Harry's general direction. From Daphne's vantage point, Harry's expression changed from anxious to-, to almost confused, and he tripped and fell to the pavement below.
She waited for him to get up, to leap back into the fray, but instead, Harry struggled to lift himself up, nearly collapsing again as he did so. The effect of her blinding flash had by now worn off, and more Killing Curses fired towards him. Daphne, still on her knees, raised one arm and a hemisphere of asphalt rose around Harry, obstructing the spells long enough for him to get his feet under him.
Daphne gasped as he turned toward their opponents; his back was a bloody mess, a half-dozen wounds gouged out of his flesh, his muggle clothing clearly showing where the strange scattershot spell had struck him. Shoulders hunched forward, one arm raised, and her asphalt barrier molded to his will, forming swirling brown columns that burst into flame, shooting towards the aurors.
Only the flaming asphalt, too, stopped short of reaching the wizards, splashing harmlessly over the invisible barrier. 'It couldn't be…' Daphne conjured a simple iron sword in front of Quinctus, but it clanged off the wall as well. A sinking feeling of terror settled in her stomach - Harry and Daphne's magic could not reach their opponents, but their spells had no problem getting through!
Harry was back on defense, his iron discs levitating before him while at the same time overriding the aurors' attempt to attack him with transfiguration. Quinctus had shifted his gaze to her, thrusting his wand forward and then drawing it back with a lazy wave.
A screeching sound of metal was her only warning, and Daphne tried to scramble away as quickly as she could. Not quickly enough, though, as the car that Harry had banished earlier flipped over and landed on her, catching her left leg and crushing the limb below the knee, pinning her in place.
The pain was brutally incapacitating, and Daphne didn't even realize she was screaming until her breath ran out, leaving her gasping through tears of agony. All she felt was horror and unbearable torment. Clawing at the metal side of the car, she couldn't even think to use magic, conscious thought blanking out from her shock.
Then, as if by a miracle, the muggle automobile lifted off her and tilted on its side before rocketing towards the aurors directly in front of her, impacting with a thundering crash.
Daphne took a deep breath, trying to blink away the tears and refocus. It had to have been Harry that saved her. As her senses returned, she noticed that the battle had paused, an odd stillness freezing everyone in place. The reason why quickly became apparent as her own cries of pain were no longer the only ones audible. The car that Harry had flung had crushed two men and wounded another and sat, crumpled and dented on the other side of the barrier.
And just like that, the heartbeat passed and everyone exploded into renewed motion. Curses fired out towards Harry and Daphne, forcing him to shield them both, while Harry lifted several more cars and tossed them toward the aurors. Levitation and Banishing Charms held them back, but Harry had a weapon now.
He was throwing everything he could summon through the barrier; conjured objects, being magical in nature, apparently couldn't break through but mundane items, so long as they were in motion through their own momentum were not held back.
Chancing a glance at her leg, Daphne saw the swollen, mangled limb and felt shaky, cold. She was going into shock. She tried to muster the requisite focus and energy to join the fight but just couldn't do it.
The battle had devolved into a stalemate. Because their opponents had to remain along the border of the wall in order to poke their wands through to fire spells, they were left vulnerable to Harry's projectiles, a weakness that prevented them from massing fire against him as they had before. Still, eventually Harry would run out of autos and other materials, assuming he could maintain the pace of magical expenditure he was running.
Apparently, the Quinctus recognized the same thing, for he gestured at the aurors, and more than half of them stepped through the barrier somehow, moving to surround Harry while the rest remained behind.
Harry's aura lit up the battlefield, his eyes radiating emerald energy. A high-pitched grating sound resonated through the tunnel, sparks showering from the sides of the lorry that was dragged towards the fight, twisting and morphing as it approached, wheel wells sprouting aluminum legs and clawed arms. There were shouts of disbelief, then cries of pain as the mass of the metal limbs blew through two auror's shields like they were made of paper, slicing through them so thoroughly that one of the men was outright cut in half.
Reductor Charms blew holes in the construct, but this new element had shifted the tides. Splitting their focus between Harry and the transfigured lorry allowed Harry to focus on the exposed aurors, immolating one with ivory flames, dropping another into a transfigured pool of sulfuric acid, concrete roots ripping both arms off a third. With every opponent he killed, the fewer spells came at him, further tilting the odds in Harry's favor.
"Potter!" Quinctus' voice had a note of anxiety not present before. "Stand down! Or would you sacrifice yet another ally to escape justice once more?"
The construct, riddled with holes and trailing pieces, paused with one leg embedded in the chest cavity of a white-robed auror. Harry turned to look at her, and Daphne realized that, in her traumatic haze, an auror had crept behind her.
"Don't do it, get out of here! Leave me!" His expression didn't change. "Just- you've got to take care of Tori. Make sure she's safe!"
Harry stared deeply into her eyes, and Daphne didn't need legilimency to see the decision he'd made. 'Please, don't!' she begged silently, knowing it wouldn't make a difference, watching him raise one arm towards her, extending the other in Quinctus' direction.
She watched the scene play out in horror, unable to tear her gaze off of his green and golden eyes, even when she felt the auror above her collapse in two pieces, even when the black-robed wizard shouted out "Procella Cinis!" the area-effect spell completely bypassing Harry's defensive conjuration. A sphere of red-hot cinders surrounded Harry's form, a storm of ash encasing him inside a burning globe of fire and death.
The sphere bubbled, its swirl interrupting and slowly condensing, revealing a scorched and charred Harry, burned nearly beyond recognition, the lenses of his glasses falling out of their melted frames. The cinders shrunk, and shrunk, reduced to a small orb localized around his extended right hand before winking out entirely, leaving behind nothing but scoured and blackened flesh. His aura vanished, and Harry collapsed to the ground.
Rage and despair welled up inside her at the hideous predictability of the scene before her. She knew he'd ignore her, certain of exactly what would happen the moment their eyes met. Not out of nobility, or anger, or guilt; no, it wasn't that.
Trembling with fury, with unbridled hatred at the man who'd done this, at the way that their end had come, alone in this stone tube beneath the sea, Daphne finally managed to overcome the mind-breaking pain she endured, amaranthine energy trailing from her irises.
She was such a fool - forcing him to relive every moment with Susan out of her jealousy, out of her spite and frustration; it had never occurred to Daphne to wonder about his thoughts and emotions towards her. The injustice stung at her, the hatred towards everything that they both had been forced to suffer through.
The ceiling of the tunnel began to crack, to rumble; debris began to fall, and as the section above her crumbled, the cracks spiderwebbed in both directions. The structural integrity, under such heavy assault from the force of her anger, gave way, the looming destruction causing a cascading failure all around them. She heard aurors shouting in French, saw them run back through the barrier and disappear, dropping the disapparition jinx in their panic and fleeing from the looming catastrophe.
Taking a deep breath, Daphne tried her best to blot out the pain and vanished with a crack, reappearing next to Harry's mutilated body, focusing on the encampment they'd slept in at Calais earlier that day, apparating once more.
Still, even as they both dropped to the grass amid frightened screams and loud barking, that terrible sense of unfairness continued to plague her, as her eyelids drooped and her consciousness faded. For Daphne had been so certain that Harry would save her because she knew, in that moment, that he loved her too. And she knew, with complete certainty, that she absolutely didn't deserve for him to.
A/N: First, some thank yous. Concolor44 and Nauze, for using their engineering expertise to help me understand how the Chunnel was constructed. Trickster and UmbramAnimae for transfiguration ideas. And Nauze's 'think-tank' for helping me translate the Portuguese that Quinctus used.
Speaking of, the spells he used -
Estocada furiosa - "furious jab/thrust"; if a Piercing Curse is the wizarding equivalent of a gunshot, this one is a shotgun blast. Lots of small piercing spells fired in a single burst.
Procella Cinis - "Ash tempest"; pretty much how it was described.
And so we bring Luna back into the story. Harry and Daphne are beaten, injured, and failed at breaching the Blockade. Neville's making plans, and the Zabinis are working behind the scenes.
See you all next time!
Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles
