Chapter Ninety-Four
The screech of sirens immediately filled the room.
Telling them what they could already see with their very own eyes.
Regulus spun around, grabbing Julia by the arm; "Come on."
He flicked his wand as he pulled her around the desk – sending the chair flying across the room – before he reached down, wasting no time this time, and threw aside the rug that covered the trapdoor that led down to the tunnels.
Too late.
The windows to his office smashed inwards – the intruding Death Eaters knowing exactly where he'd be – and two of them landed in the room; wands drawn and ready for combat.
Regulus flung up a shield charm as he and Julia stumbled back – barely in time to avoid a hit – before he was quickly engaged.
A dementor swept in through the broken window – a deathly cold falling upon all in the room – and he felt that familiar, sinking feeling of hopelessness shuddering through him, as he fired a spell at his opponent.
The door to the office burst open behind him – his heart skipping a beat at the sound, with the immediate, sinking dread that they were surrounded – before, suddenly, he found himself flanked by the two security personnel – his own and Julia's – who joined him where he stood, flashes of light firing forth from their wands at the Death Eaters.
Regulus recognized them from their masks.
Barty.
Yaxley.
A bright, silverly light suddenly filled the room, before a silver badger – Julia's – flew swiftly towards the dementor, chasing it and the heavy weight of hopelessness from the room.
A Death Eater fell – bound – while the other was pushed back but that wouldn't last long.
Regulus could see them – more of them – those that weren't flooding the ballroom and the entrance lobby, along with the aurors and dementors, striding towards the broken windows and the door of his office that led out onto the grounds.
Regulus fired another spell – pushing the last one back further – before he grabbed Julia by the arm – just as another two dementors swept into the office – blocking the exit tunnel he'd initially planned to go for – and he turned, instead, and ran, pulling her out into the corridor.
It was chaos.
The corridor was filled with the sounds of screams and thudding footsteps; that cold, bleak chill that filled the air as dementors swooped down, eager to suck the souls from whomever they could find within their clutches.
The bright flashes of spells – blue, and yellow, and orange, and purple – fired up and down the corridors, people ducking out of the way as they ran – in both directions – seeking cover.
Regulus turned to Julia, almost knocked from his feet by those still running by them when they stopped, as they security personnel stumbled out from his office some distance behind them – eyes seeking and coming to them.
"Malachi. Did he say where they are?"
"The labs."
The wail of the sirens filled the lab.
Harry and Malachi sprung apart.
Harry very nearly reached up to cover his ears at the unexpected screech – bewildered and still reeling at what they'd just discovered about the horcrux; about him – while Malachi stumbled out from behind the bench, eyes on the door.
It burst open, suddenly, and they flinched – hands instinctively going to their wands – but it was just their security personnel who hurried up to them.
"Mr. Black; we need to evacuate at once –"
"What's happening?" Malachi said, as he stepped towards him, uncertainly – Harry on his heels – even though they both had a fairly good idea what was going on; "My dad –"
"Has us briefed on the evacuation procedures," the man said, gruffly, grasping Malachi by the arm and hauling him forward just as Healer Heart hurried out of the cupboard she had gone into on Harry and Malachi's arrival; "Come with us, Ma'am."
They walked, briskly, out into the corridors of the labs and – when they did – Harry could hear it, faintly, above them – the thudding footsteps and the screaming and the smashing and the sobbing; the obvious sounds of battle – and he faltered in his steps.
"Wait, my sister –"
"Will be evacuating with the others. If she can."
"If she can; she's seven!"
"Our orders are clear, Mr. Potter; we are each assigned to the safety of one."
"I'm not leaving without my sister!"
It all felt eerily familiar – far too close to what happened before, the last time the Foundation had been attacked, except this time he knew that Grace was here – and Harry started to step away – to just go and find her – only to feel his arm grabbed tightly by his own guard, the man continuing swiftly in his steps, in time with the others.
"Let go of me!"
Harry yanked back against him, but the footsteps carried on briskly, while Harry struggled – telling them over and over to let him go – until, suddenly, he was released just as a flash of yellow light flew towards them, only just deflected in time and hitting the wall a few meters away.
Another followed.
And then another.
"Boys, run!" Cornelia Heart's voice called, as she drew her wand, before, suddenly, three Death Eaters could be seen up ahead.
Harry quickly drew his wand – Malachi, too – as the Death Eaters quickly advanced on them.
Severus strode across the threshold of the main doors to the Foundation – flanked on either side by Amycus and Alecto Carrow – three of the last to arrive.
His eyes sought the ballroom – where he knew the children of the Learning Centre currently took their lessons – before he glanced in the direction of the grounds, knowing what the evacuation procedure would be for them.
That, under normal circumstances, they'd be ushered outdoors and disapparated to safety once reaching the perimeter.
But – with the wards torn down with the fall of the Ministry – the compromise of the Fidelius meant the grounds were, now, almost entirely inaccessible.
The anti-apparation enchantments cast over the building ineffective outwith it and, so, Death Eaters and aurors apparated in, preventing the escaping people within.
Severus swallowed at the thought, his mind on Grace – for Harry was far more able to protect himself, than his sister – as the Carrows stepped away from him, engaging in combat with the Order members who'd arrived, along with the Foundation staff, who were, surprisingly, putting up a good fight, Moody's prior insistence that they be trained proving beneficial.
Severus didn't engage them. Masked, his old colleagues had no idea who he was.
Instead, headed straight in the direction of the ballroom, parrying away any attempts at attack that were made his way.
A dementor swooped by him – two – and the air that was already heavy – unbearably cold – seemed to invade his chest, then, making it hard to breathe; but he pushed on by – fighting the instinct to cast a Patronus – and headed across the threshold into the ballroom.
There were more fighters in here – but many were simply running – and Severus caught sight of red hair, huddled in the corner, and he felt a surge of relief come over him when he noticed her – even if it seemed she had, somehow, become separated from the other children – and the sight of only her hair and knowing she was so within reach warmed the chill that had threatened to overwhelm him just moments before.
Severus advanced on her without hesitation, in what he hoped was as menacing a manner as possible, mustering up as much as he could.
Knowing, as he did, that he'd have to push it down, any instinctual desire he felt to protect and reassure her – at least out here, in the open – when he was faced with his daughter's terror and resistance.
Severus noticed, as he drew nearer, that she was not alone where she cowered behind the piano; a small group of four huddled behind it, together.
Draco Malfoy stood from the small huddle when he noticed him coming, wand held tight in his hand.
Severus ignored him – parried the pathetic attempt at combat with ease – and reached down as soon as he was close enough, seizing Grace by the arm and pulling her to her feet, roughly.
"No!" Daphne Greengrass sprung up, then, and Severus – aware of the eyes of his Death Eater comrades upon him – fired a spell, stunning her, and she immediately hit the ground once more, next to her sister.
"No, no!" Grace pulled away from him – the look on her face belying her expected terror – and his little girl twisted and turned, in her attempt to free herself, forcing him to hold on tighter; "Let me go! Help! Help! Harry!"
Her voice ended on a sob, calling for her brother.
Severus flung her up over his shoulder, eyes meeting Draco's through the slits of his mask that the boy would surely recognize.
And he did, getting a look, then, of dawning understanding – far too dangerous an understanding for Severus to feel comfortable with – as Draco lowered his wand, slightly.
There was no way Severus could get away with taking all of them.
Severus quickly glanced in the direction of those engaged in combat, the other Death Eaters in the room – ensuring no eyes were upon them in that moment, as Grace continued to scream and beat against his back; "Harry! Harry!" – and then he reached into his robe, pulling out the fabric he felt within them, and – in one swift movement, he tossed the Invisibility Cloak onto the floor as turned on his heel, striding away with his daughter still flung over his shoulder.
His little girl carried on screaming and scratching and biting at him – relentlessly – becoming more and more fierce with each step he took and drawing far too much attention for either of their own good.
"Going somewhere, Severus?"
Severus pulled up short as he reached the doorway that led back out into the lobby, coming face to face with Lucius.
Lucius' smirked, looking at Grace in obvious amusement, where she still thrashed about when she was suspended over his shoulder.
"A rare prize for the Dark Lord, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?" Severus replied, smoothly – needlessly – while Lucius raised an eyebrow, before he glanced into the ballroom – his own eyes searching, no doubt for his own child – and when Severus followed his gaze, he could see that the group behind the piano were no longer visible.
Hidden, now, beneath the cloak.
"Let me go!" Grace screamed again, fists hammering and nails scratching at his back; "Harry!"
"Well, you certainly appear to have your hands full with that one," Lucius remarked, standing aside; "Good luck."
Severus eyed him – indulging himself for a moment that time was not of the essence – before he swept by him and out of the ballroom, while Grace continued to fight against him, furiously, as they departed.
"Down here," Regulus hurriedly pulled Julia along by the hand when they finally managed to get down the stairs into the labs – them running down, while others ran up – their Security Personnel still marching along at their sides.
Regulus nodded to them when they reached the doors of the basement; "Malachi, find him; he'll be with Harry Potter. I'll meet you both with them back here –"
He didn't wait on them affirming the statement, just quickly opened the door to the basement and pulled Julia inside.
"Regulus –"
"You'll go on ahead," Regulus insisted, before she could make any sort of protest, as he hurried them up to the door to the exit tunnels; "You'll be able to apparate once you're out the other side now that the Fidelius is broken; go back to the house and we'll come –"
Regulus was silence by the sound of low laughter behind them, just as he pulled open the door to the tunnels.
The two of them quickly looked in the direction of the laugh – the familiar, unwelcome timbre that he remembered from years long passed – and, even after all this time and all that had happened, despite the shadows and the hatred that was etched into the once warm and jovial face, Regulus recognized him.
Eugene Hopkins.
Somehow, out of his confines, in the chaos that had befallen.
Regulus swallowed, hand tightening on his wand; "Eugene."
Eugene stepped forward, out of the shadows, glinting eyes meeting his.
"Hello Regulus."
Eugene tilted his head to the side, getting a smile – that looked far too sinister – as he took in Julia at his side; "And you must be the wife. Hm. The muggleborn who took a Death Eater for a husband."
His tone dripped with a disgust – with a venomousness – that made Regulus immediately step in front of her.
Julia's chin lifted, staring his old mentor down.
"Eugene," Regulus said, in a tone he hoped would appeal to reason; "The defences of the Foundation have been breached. We need to leave."
Eugene eyed him, that eerie smile still on his face.
"I follow you nowhere, Regulus Black."
The older man twirled his wand, slowly, between his fingers.
"I must say the guards you instated at my door were somewhat of an easy fight –" his lips twitched, " – well; if that's the best that the Order of the Phoenix can do…"
His statement tapered off; hanging in the air.
There was a second where nothing happened.
And then a spell fired forth – Regulus deflecting it – followed by another and then another – a foolish fight in the middle of a much bigger battle – and Regulus stepped forward, engaging him.
"Julia, go."
Regulus was certain she wouldn't – though he had no opportunity to check – for Eugene engaged him with the same ferocity, if not more so, that the Death Eaters had in his office and he could not afford to be distracted – to look away – even for a second, as spell after spell after spell fired forth between them.
Eugene kept him on the defensive – manic hatred and vengeance driving the other man on, while Regulus sought to protect – until Regulus stumbled back, almost floored by the force of the next that Eugene fired his way, and then another spell shot past him – intentionally – and Regulus heard a thud as something – someone – Julia fell to the floor behind him.
Regulus spun around, losing all sense of self-preservation – of combat – at the realization that she'd been hit.
Julia lay on the floor on her back, brown eyes open – seeing still, alive – but with a furrow on her brow and a tension in her expression, as she trembled and gasped for breath.
"NO!"
Regulus hurried to her, skidding to his knees at her side; "No. No. Julia –"
His hands shook as he reached for her, one hand to her stomach – to the baby he felt still moving – and to her face, the skin of which became colder and colder beneath his fingers with each second that passed.
Regulus glanced down, panic quickly setting in when he could see the veins of her wrist blacken – blackened lines following suit in a slow, steady creep up her arm – and he leaned closer to her.
"Julia."
Her eyes found his.
Still seeing him.
Still there.
But there was an agonized look in her eyes.
Regulus swallowed, his heart constricting, his voice a whisper; "What did you do to her?"
There was a low laugh behind him.
"Now, Regulus. You should be thanking me –"
Regulus kept his eyes on Julia – his back to Hopkins – with his hand on her face, upon the icy cold skin beneath his fingers, that he stroked, gently, helplessly; willing the pain – the curse – away.
" – After all, the last thing you need right now is something to live for."
Regulus closed his eyes, leaning in closer, and touched his forehead to hers.
"Don't worry, Pet –" Eugene said, addressing Julia who twitched beneath Regulus' hands from where he stood over Regulus' shoulder, in a tone that made Regulus' blood suddenly boil, " – it won't last long."
Regulus' jaw clenched, the hand that had been upon her stomach reaching for his wand, but – just as he grasped it, knuckles white beneath his grip, a flash of light filled the basement – a spell shot forth from the opening of the tunnels – and Lily ran into the room, Dora close on her heels.
The two of them engaging Eugene, immediately, while Regulus, instead of attacking, quickly set about doing whatever he could – the little field healing he knew – in an attempt to stay whatever curse Eugene had placed upon his wife.
"Julia. Julia, hey –" Regulus implored her to look at him, as he cast a warming charm – futilely, for her cheek beneath his palm remained cold as ice – while the flashes of light and cries of combat sounded out behind him, Lily and Dora continuing to duel Eugene, two-to-one, in the basement.
With a ferociousness that would surely alert all above to their presence.
"Stay with me," Regulus said, desperately, when Julia's eyes glazed; "Hey."
There was a roar behind him – full of fierceness – and only then did Regulus turn to look – briefly – seeing Dora fighting Eugene, mercilessly – the man who'd killed her mother – with her face drawn in determination.
Regulus turned back to Julia, quickly casting the other charms he knew – to no avail – and he could feel his panic intensifying, then, as she started to shiver, uncontrollably.
"Regulus –" her voice was hoarse, barely heard.
Regulus leaned in closer, stroking her cheek; "Shh. Don't try to talk. Just breathe. Alright?"
He heard the grunts and cries and roars and zaps of combat intensifying, but his eyes were all for his wife, noticing the way her breathing shallowed, her eyes becoming more unfocused.
"Julia," he touched her forehead, his voice a murmur - choked - but no less fierce than the fight going on behind them; "Listen to me. Do not stop breathing. Do you hear me? Just breathe."
There was a thud behind him.
And then, suddenly, Lily skidded to his side as Dora hurried from the room; "What happened?"
"I don't know," he moved aside, giving her room; "He hit her with something."
Lily quickly set about casting charms and healing enchantments – far beyond anything Regulus knew – and he felt a little surge of hope as he glanced at her, at the quick work she made of it, all that she knew that may help and he leaned in closer, stroking Julia's hair.
"Lily's here. You're gonna be fine, see."
"Regulus."
Her voice was quiet – still hoarse – and far too weak.
Suddenly, a glow emitted from the bump of her stomach, alarming him and making Regulus look at Lily, sharply.
"What is that?"
"It's protecting the baby," Lily said, leaning up and speaking to Julia; "Honey. I'm going to have to put you in stasis for this, alright?"
Julia's chin inclined ever-so-slightly – understanding what Lily was telling her, even if Regulus didn't – and then her eyes drifted closed, her breathing shallowing further.
"Julia –" he gripped her, gasping out her name.
"It's alright, Regulus," Lily put a hand on his arm, reassuring him; "I've slowed it down, whatever it was. She's under, until we can get her to St. Mungo's; but we need to get her there as soon as possible –"
"Malachi –" Regulus choked out, eyes going in the direction of the door; "He's with Harry –"
"You go," Lily told him, her eyes reflecting the same tormented panic as he felt; "I have to stay with her to maintain the charm."
Regulus nodded, eyes going back to Julia, before he drew in a breath and – after a brief touch of his lips to her icy-cold forehead – he sprung to his feet and hurried from the room.
Past the still, dead form of Eugene Hopkins that lay on the floor.
Grace screamed and screamed, kicked and punched and scratched – just as Harry and her mummy had told her to do, if anyone ever tried to take her – and there was a smash to the side of her – a vase – that she realized she'd done with magic as the man walked down the corridor with her still hanging upside down over his shoulder.
She willed it to happen again – to smash something with magic – but nothing happened, so she just started yelling again, instead, hoping someone – a friend – would hear her.
"Help me! Help me!" she screamed, while other people's footsteps walked by her – nothelping, or caring that she was being taken away – and she sobbed, then, frightened when she caught sight of the scary masks of the people who'd passed them.
"Harry! Harry!" she called, pleadingly.
The man's steps got faster and she felt sick from behind upside down for so long – starting to feel dizzy – and then they burst into a small room – a cupboard, Grace realized, and the man closed the door before he put her back on her feet as he knelt down in front of her.
"Help! Help" she scratched at his face – at the hard, silver mask he wore – and punched at his throat and his shoulders and his chest, and then he reached up, swishing his wand – making her flinch in fright – and then she saw his face.
Grace stilled, staring at the man in front of her.
At a man she knew.
"Professor Snape?" she whispered, uncertainly; "You…you're here."
He nodded, giving her a small smile.
"I am. I'm here to protect you, Grace."
Grace eyed him, still unsure.
"Why are you dressed like the bad people?"
Professor Snape's eyes glanced down – as if just noticing his robes for the first time – before he met her gaze, with a look that was warm and gave her that same safe feeling she always got when she looked into his eyes before he said; "It's pretend. So that the bad people are unable to notice me."
Grace considered his words.
That seemed like a good plan.
"Where are you taking me?"
Grace felt his hand on her arm squeeze slightly and she felt a flutter of warmth in her tummy, even before he said the word.
"Home."
Grace swallowed, eyes flickering back and forth between his, searchingly.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow; "Do you trust me, Miss Potter?"
Grace hesitated.
But only for a second.
And then she nodded, slowly, knowing for sure that she did.
Professor Snape smiled, his hand caressing her cheek; "Good. Then I need you to do as I say. I need you to allow me to take you to the exit – and while I do, you must pretend that you don't want to come with me – but you also must not run away. Do you understand?"
Grace smiled, before she nodded again, more surely this time.
"Alright," Professor Snape said.
He got back to his feet, before he reached out and took her by the top of the arm – gently this time – before he opened the door to the cupboard, pulling her back out.
And once outside, Professor Snape marched down the corridor, quickly.
So fast Grace struggled to keep up.
Harry stumbled out of the door that led to the side staircase leading to the tunnels, Malachi on his heels – but he wasn't the only one – Healer Heart and the two guards stumbling out, as well, still fighting off the Death Eaters that pursed them, having chasing them the length of the lab corridors below.
Harry faltered, as they hurried down the hallway of the office corridors, his eyes taken in the fallen that they passed.
People scattered here and there, unmoving – not breathing – and Harry felt his heart constrict at the sight and his breathing become unsteady, as they carried on.
At the reality of war and all that those coming into the Foundation had been saying about what had been happening beyond the wall.
Harry and Malachi stopped at the swinging doors that would lead out into the entrance lobby.
He looked through the small window of the door – Malachi, too – while they heard the guards and Healer Heart still fighting and there were more out there; more dead on the ground and there were Death Eaters engaging those that hadn't yet fallen, while others fled out through the doors and the broken windows.
Harry could see some of them disapparating – escaping – while aurors, now, apparated in onto the grounds – joining the Death Eaters – and Harry saw a dementor swoop by the window of the door making he and Malachi stumble back in fright.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry spun round just in time to see Healer Heart fall to the ground.
Joining the fallen.
One of the Death Eaters advanced on them, the corridor wide open now that there were only two between them – the other engaged by the guards – and Harry felt Malachi grab his arm, pulling him, as if to make him run.
Instead, Malachi pulled him into one of the offices – one Harry didn't recognize – and the Death Eater followed.
Harry lifted up his wand, deflecting a spell, and then he and Malachi fought them two to one – the way they had at Hogwarts – but better this time, now that Harry knew more about what he was doing.
"Stupefy!"
His spell was deflected, while Malachi tried for a body-bind – which also failed – and, while Malachi fought them off, Harry tried and succeeded in transfiguring some arrows out of the quills that were resting on the bookcase behind the Death Eater that fought them.
He flicked his wand – the Death Eater noticing just in time, ducking, and attempting to deflect them but getting nicked behind the ear – Malachi called out another spell – another body-bind – and this time the Death Eater went down.
Malachi hurried up to Harry, urging him back, and they burst through the adjourning door into what Harry recognized, now, was Mr. Black's office.
Malachi – hand still holding Harry by the arm – made to pull him up to the desk; Harry remembering, then, the means by which he'd escaped, briefly, the last time this had happened.
"Harry!"
Harry spun round at the voice – his little sister's – and he felt a jolt of shock come over him, then, when he unexpectedly coming face to face with Snape.
For a second, they just stood there – the four of them, Harry and Malachi; Snape and his sister, clutched by the arm at his side – as if unable to believe their luck that they'd encountered one another.
And it was enough to overcome even the overwhelming relief Harry felt at seeing his little sister safe and well and here.
That, after all these months, Snape was suddenly standing here, too,in front of him again; as it all came rushing back.
The occlumency and the legillimency and the smiles and the teasing and Dumbledore.
And then, the horcrux that Harry now knew lingered within him; rendering the fact he was trying to even escape now pointless.
Wrong, even.
Harry launched himself forward, not really thinking about what he was doing, and hugged Snape tight around the neck.
Snape stumbled back, letting go of Grace, and for a second, Harry thought he felt the man's hands on his arms – not quite hugging him back, but not pushing him away either – the tension leaving him, for just a second, as if in relief.
And then the man did draw back.
"We do not have much time –" Snape said, briskly, grasping Grace's arm once more and hurrying them up to the desk – where Malachi had been going – to the trap door that had already been pulled back, revealing the tunnels through which Harry and Mr. Black had almost escaped the last time Death Eaters had breached the Foundation's wards.
"You know where to go –"
"It's dark down there," Grace looked at the tunnel, in obvious fright, drawing back from where Snape was trying to push her; refusing to go down.
"Look, it's fine, Grace," Malachi said, as he jumped down, before he looked up, reaching a hand up to her.
Grace shook her head, her brow furrowing.
"We're gonna be right with you, Grace," Harry said, quietly, his hand on her arm; "It'll just be like nighttime, that's all. When we have all those adventures in the house."
Grace got a small smile then, meeting his eyes.
"And you'll do magic? With the lights? That mummy doesn't let us do."
Harry chuckled, nodding; "Yeah. Yeah. I'll do the lights."
Grace's fear seemed to leave her then, and Snape nudged her forward, towards the tunnel.
"Night-time. Okay," Grace nodded, before she looked over her shoulder at Snape, giving him a smile as she stood on the edge of the tunnel; "Night, Professor Snape."
Snape smiled – smiled – with a warmth that Harry knew he'd never seen from him before.
Which seemed odd, considering the sound of battle still sounded just beyond the walls of the office, signaling the direness of their current circumstances.
"Goodnight Grace."
Grace's smile faltered.
Her eyes glazing.
Her brow furrowed, ever-so-slightly.
In a way that had become familiar, sometimes, whenever one of them slipped up.
Whenever she got one of them back – a memory – and then Grace's expression cleared.
A look of dawning recognition suddenly coming upon her, her voice uncertain.
Barely above a whisper.
"Daddy."
Snape's smile left him then.
His eyes met Harry's, speaking briskly.
"Harry –" he indicated he go – with more sense of urgency now.
"Come on, Grace," Harry took her by the arm, trying to urge her down into the tunnel.
"No," Grace pulled back; "Daddy! Daddy –" Harry wrapped his arms around her, making to just jump down while holding her; "You have to come with us, too!"
"Harry. Go."
"Daddy!"
The door to the office burst open, then, and a Death Eater stepped into the room; quickly taking in the sight before him.
The three of them escaping, with the aide of one of their own comrades.
"Daddy!" Grace called, making the situation a hundred times worse than it already was.
Snape blinked, slowly.
As if in concession.
Before he turned to face the person behind him – unmasked, unlike the other who'd entered – his face stoic, unyielding as it met the gaze of the person behind the mask.
"Daddy!"
Harry clamped a hand over her mouth – not that it would do much good now – as two others stepped into the room, taking in the scene.
The much worse scene.
Harry Potter standing, holding back his little sister, calling out to her father; Severus Snape.
Snape's chin lifted, as the three of them stood there – seeming suspended in time – and then he drew.
A spell firing first from one of the Death Eaters.
Snape swiftly fired one back.
Regulus clutched his wand, tight, as he darted to each of the doorways – looking into each of the labs as he passed – unable to make up his mind if he ought to be panicking even more at the fact he still hadn't found his son or glad of it, for – maybe – Malachi had just managed to leave, already, as part of the procedure that the Security Personnel had already been briefed on.
Perhaps Harry and Malachi were already off the grounds.
Safe at home, even.
But that still left Grace. And –
Regulus rounded the corner, running into something with an 'omph' that was completely invisible.
His heart lurched a little, wondering – for a quick moment – if it were Severus but the invisibility cloak was immediately pulled from the person – or, rather, people – who he'd run into, revealing Draco and the Greengrass girls.
"Draco," Regulus sighed in relief, a hand going to his shoulder, he nodded back the way that he'd come; "The exit tunnels in the basement are clear –"
"Then why aren't you gone?" Draco stared at him.
"I'm looking for Malachi. Have you seen him?"
Draco shook his head.
"Harry?" the oldest of the Greengrass girls piped up, with obvious concern in her eyes.
"If they're still in here, I'll find them," Regulus assured her, "There's a good chance they've already left. Now – you three, off you go. Round this corner and straight down, you can't miss it."
"Snape took Potter's sister."
Regulus met Draco's eyes sharply.
Careful not to let the relief he immediately felt show; that Grace was with Severus.
"Ah," Regulus nodded; "I…I see. Well. I'll find her."
"Why?" Draco raised an eyebrow; "Not like he'd hurt her. Right?"
Regulus frowned, staring back at him, and it was only then that Regulus realized the oddity of the fact that Draco and these girls had the cloak that he'd sent through to Severus, some days before.
But, before Regulus could think further on it – a pointless waste of time, considering the current situation – the click of footsteps rounding the corner alerted them to the fact they were no longer alone and – before they could react – Lucius appeared around the corner, unmasked.
Draco stumbled back.
All bravado gone under the gaze of his father.
Lucius eyed Draco; his expression giving nothing away.
Regulus gripped his wand, tighter, his eyes on the two of them.
And then Lucius jerked his head to the side – indicating that his son leave – and Draco's stance relaxed, slightly, before he glanced at Regulus.
Regulus gave him a reassuring smile – one that was met with a look from his cousin that was almost apologetic – before Draco reached for Astoria's hand and he scurried away, the two Greengrass girls following.
Disappearing once more beneath the invisibility cloak before they rounded the corner.
Lucius' lips twitched – not a smile, no, but almost a smirk – and then he lifted his chin, staring Regulus down.
For a moment, Regulus thought that was all it'd be.
And then Lucius' expression turned – becoming one of hate and of fury and of grief, not entirely unlike Eugene's – and Regulus only just got a shield charm up in time to protect himself from Lucius' attack.
The next came faster – as swift and deadly, as Lucius always was when he dueled – and Regulus parried it, not entirely terrible anymore, as he had been the last time they'd dueled, now that he'd had some chances to practice.
They circled one another – but there no time for this, no – firing spells back and forth; each spell from Lucius increasing with ferocity – but, also, an alarming, deadly composure, as if he were holding back a bit, until the right moment to strike – while Regulus did as he always did, kept up his footwork and avoid all eye contact.
He knew Lucius would not want to see anything that passed through his mind in that moment.
To do so would only enrage him, further.
For they were both surely thinking about the same thing; the same someone.
And that was all it took – one lingering thought on his cousin as she'd knelt on the grass before him, the last person she'd set eyes upon – for Lucius to strike him, find a weak point, and his wand flew across the corridor, the tap, tap, tap of it echoing even over the sound of the battle that still raged overhead.
Regulus was hit, falling onto his back – but still breathing, not even bound – and then Lucius was standing above him.
A tortured look in his eyes – the familiar calm composure gone – as he glared down at him from where he stood above him, jaw clenched and lip twitching.
Regulus stared back at him.
He knew better than to say he was sorry.
Feeling himself shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in Narcissa's husband's eyes.
And then Lucius stepped away.
Turned and left him there, lying on the floor.
Alive.
Regulus closed his eyes, releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Lucius turned the corner, now out of sight.
But Regulus couldn't linger there.
He got back to his feet – summoning his wand – and headed for the stairs.
Harry deflected the spell that was fired his way.
Fired another one right on the heels of it, as he'd learned to do.
Wasting no opportunity to attack.
There were four of them now – the Death Eaters – four to three; though two of the three were he and Malachi, so Harry didn't quite like their chances as he made sure not to venture too far from where he was standing – protecting Grace who was now taking cover in the tunnel behind him – while Malachi stepped up to his side.
The two of them fought as they had before – two to one – while Snape dealt with the others – not without difficultly, Harry could tell – and Harry stepped forward, shooting a glance at Malachi that he'd understand to protect Grace.
Malachi nodded, as Harry stepped up in line with Snape, fighting the three of engaged him back, and he noticed Snape's eyes dart to the side, meeting his glance, briefly.
A spell came at him – faster than before – and there was a cackle behind the mask of the person who'd cast it – one Harry recognized, instantly – and, just as he thought it, the woman – Bellatrix Lestrange, he remembered her name – turned her attention to Malachi, now that Harry had left his side.
Harry deflect another spell in a panic, now, and immediately sent a returning jinx – hoping that'd be enough time for him to move a few paces back, feeling foolish for going to help Snape when he should have stayed beside Malachi – and he was engaged, again, ferociously, one of the two left dueling Snape now advancing on Harry.
One on one.
Harry heard Malachi's voice call out spells – fighting his aunt off – and then he heard an 'omph', before there was another zap of spells, and then he heard Grace yelp in fear and Snape turned, then, momentarily, and – when he did – he was hit with something and Harry was sprayed with blood from a wound that appeared across Snape's shoulder.
Snape didn't even flinch.
Instead, the man stepped in closer to his opponent, his eyes flashing.
But Harry could see no more than that, his attention quickly drawn back to his own – at the Death Eater who flicked his wand in quick succession, firing two spells Harry's way – and Harry parried them, calling on all he'd learnt from his duels with Mr. Black – disappointed that the legillimency he'd been keen to utilize would do no good against Death Eater, due to the masks.
Harry struck his opponent – surprising himself just as much as the Death Eater – with a 'Petrificus Totalus!', flooring him.
Harry had no time to rejoice – to be glad of the fact – for the room was suddenly filled with the sounds of agonized screaming and manic laughter and Harry whirled around, just in time to see Malachi writhing on the floor, beneath the curse of his aunt, and Harry quickly fired a spell her way.
Bellatrix Lestrange turned her attention on Harrythen, the spell she'd been casting lifting, leaving Malachi twitching on the floor – still under the lingering effects of the Cruciatus – and Harry heard Grace whimper, calling out to him.
"Harry!"
The voice made the mad woman hesitate, and she turned, slightly, as if to go to his sister instead.
Harry immediately stepped towards her, not allowing her the chance.
"Confringo!"
Harry blew up the desk behind her, forcing her to take cover, and then he fired another spell her way as Malachi pushed himself up to his feet.
"Impedimenta!" Malachi tried from behind – almost succeeding – but she deflected it before she swished her wand and the debris of the desk around her swirled upwards in a whirlwind, forcing them to take cover then as it whirled through the room.
"Time to say bye-bye, Baby Black."
She advanced towards Malachi, then, as her eyes glinted, and Harry knew – even as he quicky hurried back to Malachi's side that – family or not – this woman was going in for the kill.
A dementor swept into the room – chilling Harry to the bone and making it difficult to breath – and he clutched his wand, making to cast a Patronus but he didn't get the chance; forced, instead, to deflect a flash of green light Malachi's aunt shot their way.
Another.
Another.
Harry barely registered Mr. Black running into the room.
The shock in his voice when he spoke, realizing what had happened - "Severus" – and Snape glanced at him, briefly, out the corner of his eye, still continuing to fight the Death Eater before him.
Mr. Black hurriedly engaged Bellatrix – a flash of yellow light cast her way – and then it was three to one and the odds were much better now, while Snape continued to duel the other by the door.
Grace screamed.
Harry spun round at the sound – his heart leaping at the terror in his little sister's voice – and he saw the dementor descending towards her – barely a meter away – and his Patronus – the bright silver dog – flew from his wand, chasing the creature away from her and out of the room, back onto the grounds.
Mr. Black and Malachi continued to fight Bellatrix, Harry rejoining them.
Spells firing back and forth.
The woman's eyes glinted – with far more intent in her gaze now that Malachi's dad fought alongside them – and she lifted her hand – while still wielding her wand with the other – and the bookcase in the corner ignited in a fierce inferno.
Balls of flames conjured up from it and were suddenly flying their way, forcing Harry and Malachi to stop dueling in order to deflect them, while Mr. Black continued to fight.
The Death Eater that Snape was dueling hit the ground.
And then – wasting no time – he turned on his heel and fired a spell at Bellatrix.
There was a snarl – and then a cackle behind the mask – as Snape and Mr. Black joined forces, fighting her; Harry and Malachi making to join them.
Even then she was still good; Malachi disarmed, first, and his wand flew across the room while Harry had to duck almost immediately after, as a picture on the wall was transfigured into a fiery lasso – spinning in the air above her – before launching in Harry's direction.
Snape's attack increased in ferocity at the attempt – though there was still a cool collectedness about him as he met and matched and then, exceeded her attack – forcing her back on the defensive for the first time.
Mr. Black shot a spell at her – once, twice – and Harry was certain, then, that there was an opening.
That he could finish her.
Mr. Black hesitated.
Snape cast it instead; "Avada Kedavra."
Bellatrix Lestrange landed on the floor of Mr. Black's office with a thud.
Dead.
Harry was suddenly seized by the arm, barely able to even process the fact she'd fallen.
"Go," Snape said as he pushed him in the direction of the window; "We can apparate from the grounds –"
"Lily and Julia are still in the basement," Mr. Black said, not looking at his cousin as he stepped around where she now lay on the floor, drawing Malachi by the arm in the direction of the door, instead, and Snape hurried over, lifting Grace from where she'd been hiding in the tunnel, carrying her on his hip as the three of them followed.
The clash of combat still rung out behind them in the ballroom and the lobby, out on the grounds, as the people still remaining sought to fight and flee from the Foundation.
It passed in a flash, the moments between leaving the office and them hurrying into the basement, and, when they did, they found no one there.
Just emptiness.
Mr. Black stumbled forward, his voice unnerved; "Lily?"
His mum suddenly appeared on the floor – visible, after pulling the invisibility cloak from her head – and Harry realized, then, that Julia was hurt.
Mr. Black hurried over, scooping her into his arms, and they filed out of the basement through the tunnels, making their escape.
"Where are we going, Daddy?"
Harry heard Grace's voice behind him, as they hurried one-by-one through the dark.
"Somewhere safe."
The change in the tunnel systems had them stepping out of the grounds to the west of the building; each of them stumbling out, one after the other, and hurrying up the grass.
Harry risked a glance back over his shoulder as he stepped up the incline, as they made their way hurriedly the direction of the woods.
All of their steps slowed, at the sight behind them, when they realized they'd made it to safety.
Almost.
There were just the odd flashes of light that still shot between the windows and the archways, now.
Faint screams carried on the wind.
The sight of people fleeing from all the blasted open holes in the walls; disapparating as soon as they could.
"You cannot be serious," Harry could hear Snape saying, while he still kept his eyes on the Foundation; "There will be aurors all over St. Mungo's, Regulus; you'll be arrested on sight."
"I don't care," Mr. Black's voice shook, and Harry looked then, hearing a sob escape him as Mr. Black – Julia still in his arms – turned to Malachi; "Go with Severus."
"Dad."
Mr. Black leaned his forehead to Malachi's temple, just for a second, before stepping back and disapparating with Julia.
Harry stepped in closer to Malachi – noticing his friend's distress – as they looked back at the chaos behind. They two and his mum and Snape, Grace still perched on his hip, her head tucked into his shoulder.
The Dark Mark suddenly appeared, cast high in the sky above the Foundation.
The resistance having fallen.
The war well and truly lost.