The final part of the tournament. I hope you enjoy and as always, the support is appreciated. Please do follow, favourite and review and follow on my social media listed on my profile.
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Chapter 15: The Final Task: Part Two
The entrance to the maze sealed behind him, shutting out the rest of the world and leaving him in an eerie silence, the path ahead illuminated only by the moonlight.
Shrugging and not wanting to waste the small advantage he had earned; he conjured a bright ball of light that hovered above and followed him when he began to press on.
"Point me," he muttered, focusing on the image of the Tri-Wizard cup. His wand spun in the palm of his hand and pointed ahead and slightly to his left. With a nod, he jogged forward, not wanting to proceed too quickly and be unable to defend himself from any traps that could have been laid.
The first corner he turned left him facing a dead end. He narrowed his eyes at the imposing hedge-grow and cast a diagnostic charm, sighing internally at the simplicity of it. He fired off a ball of blue flame expecting the wall of leaves and twigs to recede upon itself, allowing him to pass.
Instead, it positively came alive and several vines shot out towards him attempting to throttle him. Hurriedly, he cast a much less pleasant flame, a black one that would rot anything it touched. Whatever this plant was certainly proved to be more than the Devil's Snare he'd expected and it released an agonising scream as it wilted away, forcing him to cover his ears as the sound tore through him.
Nevertheless, his fire had the desired effect and he stepped over the remains of the plant and moved on. After the scream had ended, the silence resumed, setting him on edge once more.
Several minutes passed before he encountered any other obstacle, this one he heard before he saw.
He approached another corner and turned it, relieved that no more screeching bushes were in sight only to pause as he heard an ominous clicking sound coming from somewhere ahead of him, though he could only see ten feet in front of him. Frowning, he sent his ball of light ahead, his eyes widening at what it illuminated.
The creature appeared to be a giant scorpion, much bigger than he was. The curled over the top of its' body, the sting on the end able to pierce straight through him with little problems. The sound of the clicking also became obvious as he spied the large claws snapping together menacingly, quickening when the beast became aware of his presence.
A loud bang sounded, followed by a burst of flames and the creature was propelled towards him at an unnerving speed. Instinctively, Harry pulled his wand across his body from left to right and breathed a sigh of relief as the wall he animated into a giant snake snatched it from the air and began devouring the arachnid. The only thing that was left a tail flailing weakly as it was pulled into a leafy demise.
He shook his head and released a deep breath before pressing forward, aware that the other three champions would have entered the maze by now.
He managed a few moments of reprieve as he continued, using his wand from time to time to alter his path where needed. It was not a creature that was the next interruption but a very feminine scream from somewhere to his right.
"The French one," he muttered, ignoring the girl. She had a wand and could send up sparks whenever she wanted to after all. Her problems were not his to handle.
The maze grew steadily darker as he made his way deeper into it and he was gratefully he had cast his ball of the light, the only thing preventing him from being blind to what was ahead. He reached another fork and the wand pointed him directly to the left.
He felt it as soon as he turned the next corner, a cold that seeped into his very being causing his teeth to chatter and memories of his childhood before Aunt Cassie and Sirius cam to collect but after the night the Dark Lord had attacked his home began to surface.
His slammed down his occlumency shields but got little relief. The cold persevered and the memories continued to swim in front of his eyes.
"Freak," the voice of his Uncle Vernon taunted and he physically ducked away from the meaty fist that swung his way.
His anger flared. How dare that filthy bastard lay a hand on him. He growled furiously as the Dementor glided in front of him, the cause for his momentary suffering.
He shook away the anger knowing it would hinder what needed to be done. He thought of the day he first realised his magic had been fixed, the first day he held his wand in his hands and the warmth spreading through him and he thought of the quirky metamorph he had met only recently.
"Expecto patronum," he whispered.
His hydra companion careened from his wand and chased the vile creature away taking the cold and misery with it.
He released a deep breath as he steadied himself mentally. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine why a Dementor would have been included in the tournament. There was only one way to deal with them and he doubted that all three other champions could cast a patronus.
His thoughts set him immediately on edge. If, as he suspected, it wasn't supposed to be here, then it was sent on the behest of someone else.
Vowing to remain vigilant, he walked on further into the maze, wanting to end the task as quickly as possible. The unsettling feeling he'd felt before had come back, more imposing.
Staying alert, it was not the cold of the Dementor that caused a groan to escape but the familiar sound of clicking ahead of him.
"Not again," he huffed, not wanting to face another one of the giant scorpions. He was surprised however when he braced himself and turned the corner. It was not what he expected but an acromantula, a very large one at that. Before he could utter a syllable, a jet of red light impacted against the spider causing it to turn away from him and face the new foe that had approached.
Harry shook his head. A stunning spell would do nothing to it and the Hogwarts' champion would regret attempting it.
The spider fell upon the shocked Diggory who let out a scream as the fangs sunk into his thigh. He struggled but had dropped his wand and had nothing he could defend himself with.
Harry sighed as he aimed his own. He didn't particularly like Diggory but he wouldn't let him die needlessly in the tournament. He hadn't done anything to upset nor offend him. He'd been quite amicable for the most part.
"Arania Exumai," he shouted.
The spell collided against the spider and it ceased its' attempt to wrap the boy in its' web to undoubtedly eat later. It was knocked back several feet but the spell was not enough to cause harm to one of that size and it turned its' attention to Harry. Not foolish enough to try stunning the creature, he fired a purple bolt at it and it collapsed to the ground unmoving, the organs inside now a useless jelly.
"I-is it d-dead?" Diggory stuttered as he approached.
"Definitely," Harry answered as he removed the web swathed around the boys' legs. The left one oozed horribly, the smell nauseating. "You'll need to get that looked at quickly. It won't kill you but the longer you leave it, the more likely you'll lose that leg."
Cedric nodded as he winced.
"Thanks, Black. You saved my life. You deserve to win the championship," he offered sincerely.
"Not if Krum or Delacour have anything to do with it," Harry laughed as he helped the boy up onto his unsteady legs.
"You're the last one. I caught Krum using the Cruciatus on Delacour. I stunned him and sent sparks up. Both are out and now so am I," he said sadly.
"The Cruciatus?" Harry asked with a frown. That was not like Krum at all unless he'd judged him very wrongly.
"Yeah, he was deranged. He wasn't himself."
"Maybe he wasn't," Harry mused aloud. "What creatures have you seen?"
Cedric shook his head.
"The spider was the worst and a skrewt. Other than that, it was mostly illusions and the bloody hedges."
"No Dementors?"
Cedric paled even further.
"No, they wouldn't be allowed to. Dementors can only be used to guard Azkaban under strict supervision by the Ministry. They banned them from the tournament hundreds of years ago along with Nundus and Basilisks."
"Well, one attacked me earlier," Harry answered darkly.
Cedric's eyebrows rose.
"I don't know what to say to that."
"It's fine," Harry said dismissively as he fired up sparks. "Sit tight Diggory, someone will be with you soon."
Cedric nodded and offered his hand.
"Congratulations, Black. I knew from the first task that you would win."
"Second place is nothing to be ashamed of," Harry consoled as he accepted the gesture. "You did well."
Cedric gave him a weak smile before Harry turned away and almost sprinted to the next turn, his focus shifting to the light a few hundred yards ahead of him. He felt his heart swell realising that it was the cup resting on a plinth, the blue flame dancing gently within enticing him.
He walked cautiously towards it but met no resistance and he reached it a few minutes later. He did not know how long it had taken him but he knew it had been a while. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and grabbed the trophy.
To his surprise, he felt the violent jerk of a portkey and he was whisked out of the maze before he could chastise himself for not checking it before claiming his victory.
(BREAK)
Charlie slammed into the solid ground, the sound of the crowd and feeling of despair the Dementors brought absent. His head was pounding with the residual headache and his body was wracked with a dull throbbing, whether from the fall or another lingering effect of the creatures, he could not be sure. All he knew was that he was warm once again and the feeling coupled with the pain lulled him back into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness once more.
It was the sound of voices nearby that pulled him back to the world around him, and though he could hear them, his eyes refused to open. The gentle crackling of a fire nearby muffled the words but they seemed to be spoken harshly, one man commanding another.
His next bout of awareness came as he felt himself heaved from the ground into a pair of shaking arms, a babbled, incoherent protest escaping his lips at the intrusion. Perhaps it was his father taking him to bed?
Those thoughts vanished as quickly as the surfaced as he felt himself slammed unceremoniously against something hard and cold, nausea overcoming him as he emptied his stomach onto the man that held him in place. He heard him curse under his breath before he went to work securing him to what it was he was pressed against.
His vision began to darken again, only for his eyes to shoot open as a sharp pain ripped through his arm. He screamed, his already aching body having endured enough before being brutalised. He managed to glance down at where he'd been cut, the blood flowing freely from the fresh wound. He fought against his bindings uselessly knowing already his efforts would be fruitless; he was stuck fast.
His heart pounded in his chest as he switched his gaze to his surroundings wondering just where it was. Nothing was familiar but he knew he was in trouble. Somewhere ahead of him, he could see a large cauldron bubbling away with an ominously clear liquid within and a squat man hunched over next to a bundle of robes.
"Make it quick," a voice wheezed.
The man he could see adopted an urgency about his movements, fumbling as he lifted the robes and dumped them into the concoction. Charlie attempted to get his attention but his pleas fell on deaf ears as he was ignored, shouting into a gag he hadn't realised had been placed in his mouth. Desperately, he tried to slide his wand from his sleeve, the place Harry had told him to keep it, only to find that it had been taken. His shield was still on his other wrist but in his position, it was useless. He could only look on as the man carried out his work, meticulously adding more ingredients to the now smoking cauldron.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will revive your son," he almost chanted, dropping a large item into the mix.
He then drew a knife, likely to be the same one he had maimed the teen with and became much more reluctant with what he was doing. From where he was tied, Charlie could see the glistening of perspiration on his forehead as he continued.
"F-flesh of t-the s-servant, w-willingly given, you will revive your m-master," he called, and to Charlie's horror, he hacked off his own left hand before throwing it into the cauldron.
It was then that he got the first idea of what was happening and his struggle against the ropes doubled. If he was right, the bumbling man was attempting to resurrect the Dark Lord, just as his parents feared. Again, his fight was in vain. He was secured too tightly to do anything other than watch what was unfolding in front of him. His only hope was that someone realised he was one in time and could find him. His heart sunk. There would be no one coming for him. They would all be too focused with what was happening at Hogwarts to worry about one student.
It took a moment for the man to compose himself, but he eventually whimpered the final part of his spell.
"B-blood of the enemy, f-forcibly taken, you will r-resurrect your f-foe."
He then collapsed to the ground in a trembling heap and Charlie hoped he was suffering for what he had done. He had not an ounce of cruelty in him but this man deserved what he was feeling. His attention was quickly drawn to the cauldron as an array of coloured sparks began crackling from the surface.
"For the love of Merlin, please let him have gotten it wrong."
A thick fog coalesced around the area, shrouding the over-sized pot from view. When it did start to clear, his heart sunk. A tall, lean figure could be seen stood in the centre staring almost reverently at a pair of hands it was flexing.
"Robe me," it instructed.
The bumbling man clambered to his feet and wrapped a black cloak around the form before stepping back and falling to his knees, grovelling.
"My Lord, please."
The taller of the two looked down on the other and shook his head.
"You have served me well, Wormtail. But were it not for you, none of this would have come to pass. You are lucky I allowed you to live long enough to serve a true purpose.
Wormtail began sputtering nonsensically but his words had no effect on the taller man.
"Avada Kedavra," he intoned with practiced ease.
Wormtail fell still the moment the sickly jet of green light connected, the same green light that had haunted Charlie for as long as he could remember. Again, he fought against his bindings with renewed vigour, his skin tearing against the rough robes used to hold him. His efforts were this time ceased by the taller figure who had made his way over to him.
"Charlie Potter," he addressed him almost gently. "Thirteen years I have waited to meet you again."
Charlie flinched as the man ran a clammy finger down his cheek, the urge to vomit once more becoming overpowering.
"You foiled me once, I concede that. But it will never happen again. Your life will end tonight and the Wizarding world will bear witness to my return, triumphant with the corpse of yourself and your brother for all to see. Oh, how rude of me. Did you wish to say something?" Voldemort asked as he removed his gag with a wave of his hand.
Charlie took a deep breath. He couldn't deny that he was terrified of the thing that stood in front of him. Never had he seen a person so pale, nor with red, serpent eyes.
"I'm not scared of you," he said defiantly, his strength coming from knowing how his father and Harry would act if they were in his position.
Voldemort laughed.
"You are a fool if you don't fear me. I am Lord Voldemort. Even after all these years the mere mention of my name strikes fear into all. You, however, have spent the last thirteen years hiding behind your mother's skirt and the fool, Dumbledore. But worry not, you will learn why you should fear me," he vowed.
The Dark Lord pulled his wand from his sleeve. Almost as pale as himself, he looked upon it as one would a long-lost love before he pointed it at the teen.
"Crucio."
Charlie screamed his throat raw as the indescribable sensation tore through every fibre of his body, his muscles tightening and bones feeling like they were each being broken in two and then smashed into powder.
Voldemort ended the spell and a violent tingling prevailed through his body causing him to spasm uncontrollably.
"It hurts, doesn't it, Charlie?" the Dark Lord questioned. "I don't imagine you want to experience that again."
Charlie could only wince in response, his lungs working hard to simply draw breath.
"Worry not, I have more pressing matters to attend to. You see, you are currently resting upon the grave of my father. A useless, filthy muggle if there ever was one," he muttered as he walked towards the downed corpse of Wormtail and lifted the sleeve of his butchered arm. He pressed his wand against a black mark that had been marred with blood before returning a moment later.
Charlie looked around to see a series of headstones, some newer than others lined up neatly in rows behind him. Learning that the Dark Lord was a half-blood was surprising, but the least of his concerns. It was something he would worry about if somehow escaped here with his life.
"Such a trivial thing, parents. My real family arrives now."
Charlie heard the swishing of a dozen or so cloaks and he turned to see a large gathering of wizards, each donning a mask to hide their identity, though their body langue screamed of apprehension. They huddled together, none daring to speak.
"My loyal Death Eaters," Voldemort greeted them, his back now to Charlie who attempted to free himself whilst he was distracted. "Thirteen long years and yet, you flock to me as though it were yesterday."
One of the wizards present found his voice as he fell to his knees, prostrating himself with a rushed apology.
"My Lord, my apologies. Had I known; I would have been by your side."
"Get up, Avery," Voldemort spat.
The man complied with a final bow and re-joined the others as the Dark Lord paced across the breadth of them, shaking his head.
"I find myself disappointed. You claim loyalty and obedience but denounce me the first chance you get to save your own skin. Where is the loyalty?"
"My Lord, I have continued my work. Even with you gone, my desire to rid the world of those unworthy never wavered."
"Ahh Lucius. It seems your efforts have been lacking. Did you not lose your fortune recently to a boy?"
"A temporary setback, My Lord, I assure you. I will deal with the boy."
"See that you do. Your generosity over the years was much-needed."
"Of course, My Lord."
Voldemort continued walking and paused occasionally, sighing or shaking his head.
"Too many of us are missing. They will be liberated at our earliest convenience and take their rightful places. We will re-forge our alliances and we will continue where we left off. But first, we have a guest that must be dealt with. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the boy who lived, Charlie Potter."
Charlie's attention snapped back to the Dark Lord at the sound of his name and the assembled Death Eaters began to jeer.
"Tonight, I will prove that what this boy achieved was but a fluke. His dead body will prove to the wizarding world that there is none that can defeat me, there is none that can stand with me and there is none that should be feared more than I. Lucius, untie the boy."
Malfoy complied and Charlie crumpled to the ground as he was released, his body still in considerable pain from the curse of the Dark Lord. His wand landed in front of him and he snatched it up, though he doubted it would do him much good. His energy levels were depleted. The only thing he had was his shield and he would have to put it to good use to stand a chance of survival. Internally, he thanked Harry and Leo for the training they'd given him. He didn't know how well it would serve him but there was no doubt he would find out now.
Shakily, he managed to stand. He certainly would not lie here and allow the man to have his way without a fight. He was a Potter and Potters' stood up to tyranny. His father had drilled that into him over the years. If he was to die, then so be it but he would die with dignity, that was the only thing that had not been taken from him.
Quicker than he could react however, he was again overwhelmed with pain as he was hit with another Cruciatus Curse. He did not know how long he was held under it, but when it was lifted, his mouth was full of blood. At some point, he had bitten through his tongue.
"Pathetic," Voldemort declared disgustedly. "I'd heard you were as good as a squib. My how the house of Potter has fallen."
Charlie gritted his teeth and tried to stand as the Death Eaters around the graveyard continued to taunt him, laughing and mocking him. He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, refusing to remain in the dirt.
"You call me pathetic," he panted. "You were defeated by a baby who couldn't even walk. You're pathetic and a coward."
The laughter stopped at his words, the Dark Lord's followers falling silent as Voldemort glared at him furiously. His fury cleared after a moment before he tilted his head and laughed amusedly.
"You did not defeat me, Charlie Potter. It was a miscalculation of my own that was my downfall. Something else happened that night but it will not be repeated. You are not even a mediocre wizard and you have proven to be little more than a slight setback."
Charlie tensed, sensing the verbal exchange was coming to an end.
"You and your brother will both die tonight, Potter. Make no mistake."
Charlie snorted.
"My brother is double the wizard and ten times the man you will ever be," he replied defiantly.
"Your brother is more a coward than you. Running away and hiding. Where was he when you were growing up? Where was he when little Charlie Potter cried every night at Hogwarts because he couldn't cast the simplest spell? Oh, I know everything about you and you have been nothing but a disappointment. Harry Potter on the other hand, has seemingly risen from the ashes. I have heard of his feats of the tournament. Impressive or lucky? We will know soon enough. But he too will die. My might is beyond any. I have taken paths into magic that no other has walked before, I have pushed the boundaries further than any have dared. Unless you beg to differ, Harry?" the Dark Lord questioned, waving his wand in an elaborate arc.
Charlie gasped as his brother appeared about ten feet to his left, his wand in hand looking upon the Dark Lord and his followers almost calmly though he could feel something almost sinister emanating from the other boy.
He almost breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him but was more fearful than he had been. He didn't want anything to happen to his brother because he had been stupid enough to be caught and brought here.
(BREAK)
As the portkey deposited him, Harry rolled and adopted a defensive stance ready to strike at anything that moved. He surveyed the area and found it silent, not even the insects were chirping, something that was a given for rurality of where he found himself. He couldn't be certain if this was part of the task, an addendum the champions had not been told about.
He shook his head. Until he could be sure, his vigilance would remain. What was clear however, was that he was no longer at Hogwarts. The mountains that could be seen for miles in the area were not here.
Carefully, he stepped forward and a twig snapped loudly under his foot. Cursing under his breath, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself and silenced his feet before continuing.
He stopped suddenly as he heard an agonising scream from somewhere ahead. Every part of him was telling him to flee but his curiosity got the better of him and he pushed on, ignoring the sense of foreboding that continued to plague him. The screaming subsided after only a few seconds and he quickened his pace in the direction it was coming from. There wasn't much that could cause a person to scream like that and he had an idea of what was happening. Thoughts of this being a continuation of the task were now absent. Whatever was happening close by was something else entirely.
He came upon a slight hill and cautiously made his way to the top, keeping low to avoid possible detection. None had been able to see through his charm for some time, so he was confident he would not be seen. Peeking over, he could see a large cauldron bubbling away, a group of cloaked and masked figures further behind it and another tall person, his complexion almost as pale and glowing as the moon above.
If this unsettled him in any way, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his heart sinking when he saw his brother on his knees before the man, bleeding profusely from the mouth. Learning where such a pained scream came from steeled his resolve. He knew not how Charlie was here, all he knew was that he needed to get him out and by the looks of things, it was down to him alone. He had no idea where he was so couldn't return if he left and he doubted Charlie had much time. He was in a bad way already and it wouldn't do well for him to suffer anymore.
He glanced once more at the man that was holding the younger boy captive and his stomach tightened. The face he saw was unfamiliar, but he would never forget that voice. An image of a man in a dark cloak pointing his wand in the direction of a cot swam in front of him. He closed his eyes as he watched a younger version of himself jump in front of the jet of green light to protect his baby brother.
He shook his head.
What his grandfather had feared most had come to pass. The Dark Lord had returned. He didn't fear him, he had been raised to fear none. He was a Black and a Black cowered to nothing. He did however fear for Charlie. He was not ready to be in such a situation and Harry doubted he ever would be. Life had been cruel to the young Potter in many ways and it just seemed to get worse for him.
He crept forward, ensuring he did not create any disturbances as he moved closer to his brother. If he could reach Charlie, he could apparate them both away. His plan was in ruins the moment he heard his name and felt the anti-apparation wards be raised. With little else he could do, he dropped his charm and looked towards the man that had haunted his childhood, fighting to keep his anger in check. He hated that he once feared another; it did not sit right with him. It made him feel shame. He calmed himself somewhat as a staring match ensued between him and Voldemort, the latter of the two observing him questioningly.
"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord greeted him.
Harry winced internally at the use of the name but chose to ignore it. He would not let this man get to him.
"Tom Riddle," he returned with a bow, smirking at the look of surprise that crossed the snake-like features.
"Where did you learn of this name?" he hissed, bordering on slipping into parseltongue.
"I'm a Black, Tom. There is nothing we can't learn. You being a half-blood was quite the surprise, however."
The cloaked men shouted their disapproval, many drawing their wands threateningly.
Voldemort looked towards him speculatively, his eyes widening slightly.
"You do not fear me. Unlike your brother, you have a backbone," he praised. "Not that it matters. You will both be dead, soon enough."
Harry chuckled.
"Oh Tom. Why is it that you see us as enemies? As far as I'm concerned, what happened is in the past. I have no quarrel with you. My life turned out well and I plan to return to it, away from Britain. It's all yours. I will, however, be taking my brother with me"
Voldemort again adopted a look of surprise.
"You hide your fear well, Harry," he offered, "but, I cannot let you live. The prophecy must be fulfilled or your brother will always be that shadow in the corner waiting to drive a knife in my back. For now, he is naught but a squib, but magic is quite the fickle mistress. All of that could change and I will not allow such a risk to exist"
"What prophecy?"
Voldemort grinned triumphantly.
"Ahh, so you do not know. It matters not but the first part has already been fulfilled. Charlie Potter was marked as my equal the night my curse backfired."
Harry frowned, the words of the man ringing in his ear. It was not Charlie that was struck with the curse, it had been him. Tentatively, he reached to the faded remnants of the lightning bolt scar that had marred him, his stomach sinking as realisation set in. It was him that the prophecy referred to, not Charlie.
It was something he would need to hear for himself, but it didn't matter. He had no intention of opposing Tom Riddle.
"Stand aside, Harry and I will kill him mercifully. He will not experience another ounce of pain," Voldemort promised.
Harry felt his rage boil over as he turned to look at the defeated form of his brother, guilt overcoming him. Had he not taken the action he did that night; Charlie would not be where he was now. He likely would have died but he would not have suffered the way he had.
"I'm sorry, Charlie," he whispered. "I only tried to protect you. You need to run as soon as you can. I will hold them off."
"I will not run," Charlie ground out. "You're my brother, I won't leave you here."
"Yes, you will," Harry insisted, his eyes now fixed firmly on the Dark Lord. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you."
"Fucking hell, Charlie, just do as I say."
Charlie stood and glared at his brother stubbornly.
"If you are quite finished," Voldemort interrupted irritably.
"You will let my brother go," Harry sighed. "It is not him that you want."
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head.
"You've heard my words, Harry. You will both die tonight."
Harry growled, his eyes glowing an eerie green as an errant bolt of lightning snapped from his wand and scorched the earth.
"IT'S NOT HIM YOU WANT. IT WAS ME THAT YOUR BLOODY SPELL HIT."
Silence. The Death Eaters stared between himself and the Dark Lord questioningly as the man himself was looking at Harry, though he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He kept his eyes firmly on Voldemort as he could feel eyes of his brother boring into the back of his head.
Voldemort gasped, clutching his head before his gaze found Harry's once more.
"You jumped in front of the curse," he whispered excitedly. "You interrupted the ritual."
He had struggled to remember much of that Halloween night, but now it was clear. He remembered being impressed by the defiance of the then four-year-old Potter as he tried to stare him down.
"It really happened," Charlie muttered. "I thought it was just a dream. You really jumped in front of that curse for me. Why would you do that?"
Harry swallowed deeply, unable to look at the other boy.
"Because you're my little brother, Charlie. It's my job to protect you."
Charlie's heart swelled at the words. Of all the times he'd wished his older brother had been there to protect him, he already had been when it mattered most.
"I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything. Just run when you can," Harry implored.
Charlie had no time to reply as Voldemort bellowed in fury and fired a flurry of curses at his brother. Faster than Charlie thought possible, Harry battered them aside as though they were but an irritant and sent his own back.
The Dark Lord, clearly surprised by how easily his brother had defended himself, hastily conjured a shield to block the barrage and narrowed his eyes as the final spell hit.
"What's wrong Tom? Not having so much fun fighting someone who can fight back?" Harry spat.
Charlie shuddered at seeing the venomous look his brother wore, even though it was not aimed his way. His eyes were burning a bright emerald fire with no hint of their usual grey in sight.
Not allowing the man time to reply, Harry levelled his wand at the surrounding tombstones, and with a shudder, they broke apart and began zipping around the graveyard, randomly swooping down on the Death Eaters who had to throw themselves to the ground to avoid being shredded by the jagged edges.
"Impressive," Voldemort conceded as he waved his wand and disintegrated the rocks into powder. "It takes much control to complete feats of magic like that. But as I said, I have pushed the boundaries further than any."
He twirled his wand before levelling it in overhead arc, smiling as a thick, black fog poured from it. It didn't stay a single stream for long as it quickly broke into sections and formed into hundreds of tiny bats.
Non-plussed, Harry returned the smirk as the bats zoomed towards him. He knew this spell. It was one of the ones he'd discovered he knew as a child that he'd kept from Sirius after experimenting with it and seeing what it would do. If it were to touch him, he would be turned inside out and die a rather unpleasant death. The rat he had experimented on had suffered horribly.
Calmly, he twisted his wand and hissed gently. The bats froze in mid-air and changed course, heading back towards a shocked Voldemort.
"HOW DARE YOU TURN MY OWN MAGIC AGAINST ME? HOW DID YOU COME TO KNOW OF MY SPELL?"
"Your spell?" Harry questioned, surprised himself. "Well, if it is yours, you'll be familiar with this."
Cracking his wand like a whip, Harry smiled as a pink ball of flame was launched at the Dark Lord, getting bigger and brighter the closer it got. He did not miss the look of surprise the man wore before he erected a large golden dome around himself. Had he not, the Death Eaters behind would have been reduced to a pile of charred remains, none likely knowing how to defend themselves from such a thing. The fire hit the shield and wrapped itself around its entirety, shrouding Voldemort from all in the graveyard with only a loud hum to be heard as the fire burnt.
"YOU LITTLE BASTARD," one of the Death Eaters roared and threw a vibrant orange spell his way.
Before Harry could block it, Charlie jumped in front of him with his own shield raised and sent it back to the caster at blistering speed. The man ducked, but the follower behind him was not so fortunate. He collapsed to the ground screaming in agony.
The Death Eaters froze momentarily before going on the attack, shouting insults between bombarding the two with all manner of curses.
Harry conjured a powerful silver shield around himself and his brother, one that would sufficiently defend against most spells but one that was not too draining.
"Charlie, you have to run," Harry said frantically.
"I can't," the boy choked. "I can't leave you here and I can't apparate."
Harry huffed. He didn't have time for the boy to be stubborn but he didn't have time to argue with him. Any rebuttal he had was silenced as the shield around them collapsed under a combination of blasting curses.
"STAY BEHIND YOUR SHIELD," Harry shouted as he fired off some Bonebreakers and a mixture of other even less pleasant curses at the incoming group of witches and wizards.
He was grateful that his fire was still burning strong and the Dark Lord confined within. The man would have to wait it out under his shield less he wished to be immolated. It gave Harry the time he needed to focus on the Death Eaters and thought they outnumbered him, they were very cautious of him and his abilities.
He tore the ground up in front of him to block a killing curse sent his way and returned the favour with one of his own. The man failed to even attempt defending himself and collapsed as though he were a puppet that had just had its' strings cut.
Turning his attention to the next, he saw Charlie in the corner of his eye, thankfully taking refuge behind his shield, the device gifted to him deflecting the spells sent his way. He knew that such a thing would not last. It would eventually give out and leave the boy exposed. He was fortunate that none had aimed an Unforgivable his way yet.
The next man to fall to his attack did so, now missing his wand arm as it was cleaved from his body under the Severing Curse Harry hit hm with. The man fell to the ground roaring in agony and clutching the stump.
The wariness within the Death Eaters grew and they seemed reluctant to engage him. Instead, they turned their attention to Charlie who came under a heavy onslaught of curses, his arm shaking at having held up his shield for so long.
Growling furiously, Harry placed himself in front of his brother and batted away a few curses before hissing, the use of parseltongue stilling the Death Eaters. Whether they were shocked or fearful, he did not know, but their stillness served to be the downfall of two of them as the ground below them transformed into an enormous serpent, it's maw closing over their legs and biting cleanly through them leaving only their torso's behind as it settled back into a pile of dirt. The two men screamed for but a few seconds before they fell silent and unmoving.
Instead of fleeing, as Harry expected, the Death Eaters renewed their attack with more vigour and he had to shield himself once more to avoid falling victim to one of the many unpleasant curses he heard being uttered.
Upon dropping his shield, he could only tense as he felt a wave of magic searing towards him, but it didn't connect. A sound like a gong resounded around the graveyard followed by a grunt as the form of Charlie collapsed in front of him his now discarded and shorn in two.
He looked up at the sound of his flames exploding outwards into nothingness and the Dark Lord drooping his shield; his robes and skin displaying the horrible burns he had received from his time within the flames. The man's eyes smouldered with contempt as he surveyed the devastation Harry had wrought, his fallen followers and spat some orders at the rest.
"Clean up and leave. They are mine to handle."
Harry paid no attention to what the Death Eaters were doing. His eyes fixated on Charlie and the amount of blood flowing from the deep wound in his chest. He fell to his knees next to him after hearing him cough painfully, relieved that he was still alive and Voldemort was too busy attempting to nurse his wounds.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispered.
Charlie's gaze was clouded over, though he smiled almost peacefully.
"It's my turn to protect you, Harry," he answered breathily.
Hearing what Harry had done for him when they were young had only made him determined to prove he was worthy as a brother, just like Harry had for him. He watched him fight against the Dark Lord and he watched him protect him from the Death Eaters, killing to keep him safe. It was then that he realised that it was Harry all along. It had been his brother who was truly the boy who lived and Harry was the one able to stop Voldemort.
It wasn't him; it never had been and Charlie felt nothing but relief. As for the prophecy, he had no idea what that meant but if Harry was Voldemort's equal and he'd been marked, then it would be him the world would need.
Harry shook his head at the foolish boy. He was grateful but furious at the same time.
He looked up to see the final remnants of Death Eaters vanishing as Voldemort had ordered.
"I'll get us out of this, Charlie, you'll be fine," he whispered before standing. "Just hold on."
Charlie nodded weakly, pressing his palm into the wound to stem the bleeding.
"It seems that I underestimated you, Potter," Voldemort wheezed, wincing as he approached, the burns he had obtained bothering him more than he had shown his followers. "Mark my words, boy. Your time will come."
Harry watched hm vanish in a thick cloud of smoke and kept his wand drawn and ready for a few moments, only calming his vigil when he heard the desperate panting of his brother. He returned to his side to assess the damage he had received.
"That was bloody idiotic," he muttered as he sealed his wound with a few hisses. "It's not the best but a healer will be able to fix it."
Charlie nodded gratefully, feeling better already.
"I can't believe I didn't work it out. It does make sense."
"What does?" Harry questioned.
"You saving me that night. I've dreamt about it and there's always someone jumping in front of the curse before it hits and I wake up."
Harry shook his head.
"It was a long time ago."
Charlie sighed as he managed to sit.
"Thank you. I never had the chance to say it before."
Harry reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet.
"It's like I said, that's what a big brother is for. I'm sorry I wasn't there after."
Charlie snorted.
"That's not your fault. Dumbledore caused all that mess."
Harry nodded.
"You're here now," Charlie continued, nudging the older boy with his shoulder and grinning causing Harry to return the gesture.
"You did well, Charlie. You're a bloody idiot, but you did yourself proud tonight."
Charlie's grin widened followed quickly by his eyes. Harry frowned in confusion as his brother shoved him hard to the side as he heard the dreaded words.
"Avada Kedavra."
It happened so quickly that Harry had no time to react. He watched as the spell crashed into his younger brother and he collapsed limply to the ground. Turning, he saw the victorious gleam in the eyes of Voldemort and something within the teen snapped.
With a primal roar he pointed his wand at the Dark Lord. No words escaped him and his intent was unclear. He wanted him dead yet, he wanted him to suffer. What emerged from his wand was a blinding stream of golden flames, something of the likes he had never seen before. His final image of the man before he vanished into another cloud of smoke before he was struck was one of shock and a little fear. It seemed that he too knew not what he faced.
"FUCKING COWARD," Harry seethed.
He saw the manor a short distance away burst into flames and begin to crumble almost immediately as his unknown spell hit it. He felt no satisfaction.
He hurried back to the unmoving from of his brother and shook him desperately.
"Come on, Charlie, get up," he implored, increasing the vigour with each shake.
Charlie however, remained lifeless. His skin had turned pale and his warmth fading. Harry knew that he was dead, he just didn't want to admit it to himself.
For the first time in many years, he felt tears on his cheeks and he couldn't bring himself to wipe them away. Instead, he hunched over the broken body of his brother and wept into his chest, wishing there was something he could do to bring him back. He couldn't be certain how long he stayed, truly, he didn't care. Eventually, he managed to compose himself enough to consider what he needed to do and the first on the list was to return his brother's body to the Potters. Then, he knew not. He simply wanted to be alone and grieve for the boy.
Standing, he pulled the boy into his arms and raised his wand before ripping through the anti-apparation ward as though it were nothing and took his brother from this place. He appeared outside the gates of Hogwarts and re-adjusted the way he was holding him and crossed the threshold.
Something had happened here also, that much was clear but he did not have time to care. He'd barely walked in a few feet when Arcturus and Leo tried to accost him but stopped when they saw who he was cradling in his arms.
"He's back," he croaked. "You were right."
He went on his way, not once looking back or to the destruction around him and in his wake, stood two men. Neither knowing what could be done or said to bring him any comfort.
It was with much reluctance that I killed Charlie. This was the plan from the start but I did not expect to grow to love the character as much as I have. I will remember him with fondness and there is so much more to come. This is very important in Harry's character development and how the rest of the story unfolds. Let's just say Voldemort made an enemy when he didn't have to and Harry is not going to allow what he has done to pass without repercussions.
Love, peace and all that jazz,
TBR