Gulo Gulo

Chapter Three
Out of the Fireplace, Into the Fire

Updated January 14, 2012

I faced Bellatrix Lestrange over our respective blades of choice — my six adamantium-coated claws versus her gleaming sword, called the Sword of Gryffindor. The outcome of this duel seemed like a forgone conclusion; as far as I was concerned, she didn't stand a chance.

The only wrinkle in my certitude was what Lestrange had just told me — that the blade she held had absorbed the hardness of my adamantium-covered skeleton when she had tried to cut me with it several weeks earlier. That cut had left a nasty red welt that took days to heal, not minutes or hours, because the blade had been used to kill a basilisk once, a monster with extremely poisonous venom. If it could now cut my adamantium bones as well, it would be a formidable weapon, even against my six blades, my mutant healing factor, and my strength and agility.

But that's not the way adamantium works.

I've been up against enemies who've used adamantium as well — Cyber being a good example — and adamantium cutting adamantium isn't as easy as one might think. Not that I was going to give Lestrange much of a chance to do anything with that sword of hers. I had to take her out before Potter or the others came through to this place like I had, through the fireplace from Malfoy Manor, and she had more potential victims to threaten.

"What's the matter, little man?" Lestrange sneered at me over the sword she held. "Afraid of a little bit of steel? Come closer — I'll make it easy on you. One quick thrust through the heart, it'll only hurt a moment."

I grinned crookedly. She didn't know about my healing ability. A sword through my heart would put me down, but it wouldn't kill me. Even trying to chop me up wouldn't do it, though that basilisk-envenomed blade might make something like that incredibly painful. More'n likely, though, running a blade through me would probably set off a berserker rage in me, and then God help anyone who was nearby. "Good luck with that, girly," I sneered back at her. Two could play the psych game as well as one.

Bellatrix bared her teeth at me, a rictus of rage. I did the same, a feral grin that invited attack, and we charged one another. Bellatrix screamed, swinging the blade high as she neared; my arms were spread wide, my claws extended, ready to dodge the sword and strike at her vitals. As we neared striking range, she began her swing and —

— vanished into thin air. I jerked at this unexpected tactic, remembering too late that these magical types could teleport, like Nightcrawler. I felt Lestrange's presence behind me even as I heard the soft crack of her reappearance, and spun away as the tip of her sword scored a cut along my back, a cut that burned with the pain of the basilisk's venom.

"Nice try," I growled as I spun to face her, but she vanished again. I immediately leaped forward, toward where she had been, and the Sword of Gryffindor sliced empty air behind me this time.

This cat-and-mouse game continued for several more passes — I'd rush her, trying to close to striking distance, and she'd teleport — or Apparate — whatever these wizards call it — away, trying to appear close enough to attack me before I could spin around and run her though. The tactic wasn't working out for either of us, though I was getting more and more annoyed every time she poofed away before my claws could reach her.

Finally, she and I faced one another across the room — her panting from the exertion of her teleports, me crouched and ready, watching her closely to see if she was faking or not. She wasn't; I could smell the stink of her sweat. Lupin had told me a bit about Apparition; it seemed that if a witch or wizard wasn't concentrating with sufficient deliberation, they could 'splinch' themselves — leave part of their body behind when they teleported. Bellatrix had already left part of herself behind, the last time we met—I'd seen to that! — and I hoped I could get her to do it the next time she tried to 'port behind me. I braced myself for a leap that would send my claws into her vitals, and lunged.

"Levicorpus!"

My foot jerked out from beneath me, and I spun upside down, dangling helplessly in the air again. This was getting to be a bad habit. I looked around for whoever had done this to me, but a sudden scream from Bellatrix made me turn back to her, my arms out to deflect her attack as she leaped at me just as the person who'd spoken before cried, "Protego!"

Bellatrix hit an unseen barrier and bounced back, falling on her tail. "Damn you!" she cried. "I could have finished him!"

"That would be impulsive and foolish," a dry voice responded. "The Dark Lord wants to make an end of this one personally."

By now most of the soot was out of my nose and I sniffed, smelling grease and body odor. The person standing in the doorway of the room was a sallow-faced man with long, black hair, wearing black wizard's robes and pointing a wand at the space between Bellatrix and me. I'd never seen him before — he hadn't been at Malfoy Manor. Who was he?

That question was answered as Bellatrix picked herself up off the floor. "What are you doing here, Snape?" she snapped at him. "You're supposed to be healing —" her eyes jerked momentarily to me "er— helping the Dark Lord with his recovery."

Snape glanced at me as well. "Despite your loose tongue, Bellatrix, I'm quite sure this Muggle knows what happened to the Dark Lord, since he inflicted the damage I am attempting to heal. I am here to locate a final potion recipe that will be required to return him to what for him passes for 'normal' — the potions that healed your arm are ineffective on him."

"Be a neat trick to put a man's head back on his body and have him live," I growled, upside down and (supposedly) helpless.

"Not as hard as you might think, Muggle," Bellatrix sneered. "Not when you're the greatest Dark Lord that has ever lived —"

"I'm sure this Muggle doesn't share our respect for the Dark Lord's greatness, Bellatrix," Snape interrupted, coldly. He stepped further into the room, moving to stand between me and Bellatrix. "Nor does he need to know anything else about our lord."

"I know enough already," I said, wondering when the spell that had me hanging here was going to fail. It always had before, whenever it had been cast on me. This time, I was going to be ready to move when it did.

Snape turned to me, a smile almost curling his pale lips. "What do you think you know?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I realized I'm pissed off and I tend to say more than I should when I'm that way. It seemed pretty obvious to me Snape knows that Voldie is using Horcruxes, especially if he's trying to bring a decapitated man back to life. Bellatrix may know about them as well, since she seems to think Snape is going to bring Snake-Boy back somehow.

On the other hand, neither of them may know a thing about Horcruxes; they may think Voldie can be brought back for other reasons. That had happened before, I'd been told, when the Potter kid had been kidnapped during some kind of wizards' tournament. They'd told me that if Potter hadn't escaped, nobody would have known that Voldemort had come back except his followers, and Wizarding Britain would have been totally unprepared when he made his play to take over their government. As it was, they'd only delayed that by a few years.

I opened my mouth again. "I know that you ain't got a chance in hell of succeeding," I said, instead of what I'd originally intended. "They'll stop you."

"If you're speaking of the Order of the Phoenix," Snape replied, dryly. "They are all but defeated. I would not put any hope in their success, or in any chance that they might try to rescue you. You will be brought to the Dark Lord, who has requested your presence for his pleasure. And soon, we will locate Harry Potter and his friends, who will be brought before the Dark Lord as well."

I didn't say anything to that. There wasn't much to say, really. I wanted to get next to Voldemort again, to have another go at him. If cutting off his head didn't work, maybe I'd try slicing him into as many pieces as I could. Let's see this Snape character try to put that back together!

Then I caught a whiff of a familiar scent, something that had been tickling my senses but I'd been ignoring while sparring with grease ball Snape. It was the smell of Potter; he was nearby, though I couldn't see him anywhere. Could the kid make himself invisible, too?

It was annoying, having this Potter kid following after me like I was some inexperienced idiot who couldn't take care of himself. If he was supposed to be doing something about these Horcruxes Lupin had told me about, he an' his friends oughta be off taking care of that business, while I took care of Voldie!

Snape had told Bellatrix to go to his study and retrieve a certain book, the book he'd returned here to get. This must be where he lived, then. That made the connection between this place and Malfoy Manor understandable; this Snape must be one of the higher-ups in Voldemort's command chain, such as it was. Snape was all but ignoring me, looking around the room we were in as if he hadn't seen it in a long time.

The room was some type of dining room, I surmised, but it was nearly empty; only a small table sat in a nearby corner, with a single wooden chair and a half-burned candle on it, in a crudely-made holder. The rest of the room stank of burnt wax, old uneaten bits of food, dust and even a little of Snape; he had been here recently, I guessed, probably to find whatever information he'd needed to heal Bellatrix's arm and his master's neck.

"So what's the plan, Stan?" I asked, still hanging upside down. The spell holding me still hadn't failed. Maybe that wasn't so bad, though; if it broke while Snape was watching me he might put an even more powerful whammy on me, one that would be even harder to break. "Are we just hanging out here or what?"

"You're the one hanging out," Snape remarked. That was probably as close to a joke as one could get out of the man. "When Bellatrix finds the book I require, we shall return to the Dark Lord's new lair, where you will witness his return, as he requested if we were able to find you beforehand."

I manages not to raise an eyebrow at that. How was Voldie able to "request" that I witness his return if his head was separated from his shoulders? Magic, I reminded myself sardonically. "Then what?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

"The Dark Lord normally keeps his own counsel on such matters," Snape said. "But I suspect he will send you out to make contact with Harry Potter and his friends."

"Huh," I snorted, chuckling. "What's makes your snake-boss think I got any idea where this Potter kid is?"

"The fact that you were there in Malfoy Manor when he arrived, and that Potter returned to rescue you," Snape retorted.

"An' what makes him think I'm gonna help him find Potter?" I growl.

"You will have little choice in the matter," Snape replied, with a sneer that had no humor behind it. "The Imperius Curse is quite powerful."

Bellatrix entered the room again, holding out a book toward Snape. "This had better be the one you wanted," she said, annoyance in her voice. "Took me long enough to find it."

"This is the one," Snape nodded, ignoring her tone. He slipped it into his robes, then pointed his wand at me. Heavy ropes shot out of the tip and wound about me, pinning my arms to my sides. Within moments my entire upper body was covered in rope. With another flick of his wand I suddenly rotated in mid-air so that my legs were pointing downward once again. I dropped to the floor, my feet hitting with two thuds.

"We will proceed to the study," Snape said, with deadly authority in his voice. "Bellatrix will lead the way; I will bring up the rear." He pointed his wand at me. "If you attempt to run or make any hostile move you will find yourself once again dangling by your ankle." I wondered if he knew Stun spells didn't work on me, and if so, how he'd learned that.

Bellatrix grinned cruelly at me then turned to lead the way. We walked slowly down the hallway to the room whose door I'd cut the lock out of. Behind Snape I could also hear very soft footfalls that were almost masked by Snape's footsteps. That would have to be Potter, I guessed, shadowing us. I gritted my teeth, wishing like hell I could tell him to let me do my own thing. Bellatrix might have a clue about how dangerous I could be, but I'd bet she'd never admit it to anyone, not even her precious snake-man.

Bellatrix led us into the room, stopping in front of the fireplace. I sensed another presence in the room the moment I entered, but kept myself from looking around. The room was nearly empty, anyway; there was only one place the person could be.

Snape was right behind me. "Go ahead, Bella," he said, shortly. "I will send the Muggle through one minute afterwards, to give you and the others time to prepare for his arrival. Return before then if preparations cannot be made in time."

Bellatrix gave Snape a look that clearly said she did not appreciate him giving her orders, but turned and threw a pinch of powder from a pot on the mantle into the dead fireplace. It roared to life with green flames. At the same moment I heard a barely-perceptible gasp from behind the reading chair, the only piece of furniture in the room. Bellatrix was stepping into the green flames, saying "Riddle Mansion!" as she did so. She vanished.

But Snape had also somehow heard the sound. He was staring suspiciously at the reading chair, then pointed his wand at it. "Whoever you are," he spoke in a low, menacing tone. "I will be quite upset if my favorite chair is gone. I suggest you show yourself — now."

The chair shivered. I set myself to lunge at Snape, ropes and all, but his wand suddenly spun toward me. "Don't move," he said, forcefully, and I stopped, ready to leap if I saw an opening.

The reading chair suddenly slid toward Snape, and he called out "Stupefy!" even as his wand moved to point at it. The bolt hit the chair and stopped it, flipping it onto its back. At the same time a voice cried out, "Logan — MOVE!" as I charged Snape. Behind the chair was Hermione Granger — she had shoved the chair at Snape and rolled out of the way, revealing Ron Weasley right behind her.

I rolled off to one side, guessing at their intention. Ron shouted "Expelliarmus!" and Snape's wand flew into the air.

At the same moment, from the doorway, another voice cried "Impedimenta!" Caught flat-footed, Snape staggered back toward the fireplace, where green flames still swirled. His arms shot out, catching either side of the fireplace, and stopped himself from falling into the flames.

Until I kicked out from the floor, catching him in the hip with my foot. He shouted "No! You— " as he fell into the flames, and vanished. Harry appeared, casting off a silvery-gray cloak and pointing his wand at the fireplace. "Finite!" he cried, and the green flames died away. Harry looked around the fireplace, then reached down and turned a small metal handle on the side of the fireplace.

"I hope that's the Floo Damper," he said, turning to look at Hermione and Ron. Hermione was picking herself off the floor with Ron's help. The three of them then turned to me.

"I hope yer happy," I said, with controlled anger. "I was about to find out where Snake-Boy's holed up."

"You're welcome," Harry said, with irony in his voice. "We were happy to save you from Bellatrix and Snape."

"Who told you I wanted to be saved?" I snapped, trying to sit up. I wasn't that easy with ropes around most of my body. "If you want to make yourself useful," I suggested, looking down at the ropes.

"Diffindo," Harry muttered, and the ropes fell away. I shrugged off the pieces and stood.

"Mr. Logan," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You do not want to be captured by Bellatrix or any other Death Eaters. They —"

"I remember what she did to you," I told her, trying not to sound too gruff. "I was there, you know. But I got a score to settle with Snake-Boy, now."

Ron was looking at the fireplace. "Uh, won't Snape be coming back here any minute with more Death Eaters?"

"Hang on a minute, Ron," Harry said, curtly. "Look Logan — this isn't really your fight. You not a wizard, you don't know what's at stake here —"

"I think I do, kid," I cut over him. "You've got an unkillable wizard with his head lopped off, whose lackeys are trying to put him together again. Meanwhile, you kids are flailing around trying to find his other Horcruxes — how many d'you think of them are left, anyway?"

"We think two more," Hermione spoke up. "One may be an artifact of Rowena Ravenclaw — possibly her diadem. The other might be You-Know-Who's snake, Nagini."

"Is it time to leave yet?" Ron asked, looking around anxiously.

"Yeah," I said. I pointed at the fireplace. "I'm going to Riddle Mansion to find Snake-Boy."

"I can't let you do that," Harry said, adamantly.

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a sardonic look. "And just how are you gonna stop me, kid?"

Harry was trying to stare me down (either that, or he was wondering how to answer my question). He was taller than I was, something I hadn't really paid attention to until this moment, but he was thin and a bit scrawny; he wasn't all that threatening, really. He suddenly brought up his wand, pointed it at my chest, and said, "Stupefy!" The bolt slammed into my chest.

"Ouch," I said. I gave the kid a stern look. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"Oh," Hermione squeaked. "You're immune to the Stunning Spell!"

"Well we're not," Ron spoke up again. "We need to get out of here before Snape comes back!"

"We're not even sure where he went, Ron," Hermione told him. "He said something when he fell into the flames — the Floo must have sent him somewhere unexpected. We're lucky he did, too! If he hadn't spoken the flames wouldn't have taken him anywhere."

I'd taken a chance booting Snape into the flames; at least I'd hoped it would burn him. "So look," I said. "We're wasting time arguing about this. I'm goin' through and I'm gonna take out Snake-Boy and anyone else that's there on the other end. Meanwhile, you three go and find the rest of them Horcruxes. I figure that way we can break up Voldie's forces enough to set them back a ways, if not destroy them entirely."

"It may be impossible for anyone except the Chosen One to kill Voldemort," Harry said, looking strained and tense. He seemed quite sincere.

"Maybe, kid," I told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But even if I don't kill him, I can soften him up for you some. Besides, it don't look like I'm going home any time soon — I may as well give you a hand while I'm here."

Harry nodded slowly. He walked over and picked up the silver-gray cloak that he'd been wearing earlier, the one that had made him invisible. "I can let you borrow this," he said, handing it to me. "It will make you completely invisible while you're wearing it."

I examined the cloak. Though it seemed large enough to easily cover me, it was light, almost insubstantial, like holding woven water. It might work for me, assuming I could avoid being noticed when the fireplace at my destination suddenly flared up and nobody stepped out of it. "Thanks, I guess," I said. "But don't you think they'll notice —"

"Harry can leave the Floo Damper open." Hermione suggested. She pointed her wad at the fireplace and spoke a few words. After a moment a disembodied voice said, "Snape residence" and Hermione turned back to me.

"If you arrive and you're discovered, you can step back into the flames and come back here. We'll be ready to turn off the Floo Damper if you do. We can wait until you come back —"

"I'm not coming back here," I said, firmly. "And you three aren't waiting for me. You need to leave here as soon as I'm gone — go and find that Ravenclaw Hocrux, that d-diadem, or whatever you called it. I'll find you afterwards if I can."

Harry looked at the other two kids, and after a few moments all three of them nodded, as if in mutual consent. Harry offered me his hand. "Good luck," he said. "I'll find you — I'll find you afterwards, to get my Cloak back."

"I'll bring it back to you, if I can," I agreed.

Ron extended his hand as well. "Good luck, Mr. Logan," he said, his face all seriousness. I nodded, my expression equally solemn.

I turned to Hermione, my hand extended, but she stepped past it, hugging me tightly. I could feel the anxiety and fear in her. "Please don't get killed," she whispered in my ear, though she seemed already resigned that was what was going to happen to me.

"I don't plan on it," I told her, hoping the confidence I was putting into my voice would give her hope. But she might be right — I was walking into a veritable lion's den of wizards.

But they'd probably never fought a wolverine before.

I turned to the fireplace. "Open that damper," I said, grabbing a pinch of the powder I'd seen Bellatrix use, earlier. Harry reached down, turning the lever, then gave me a nod.

I threw the powder into the fire, watching as the green flames swirled up, bathing the room in flickering green light. I threw Potter's cloak over myself. "Riddle Mansion!" I said as I stepped into the fire, and the room behind me disappeared in a burst of spinning green flames.

=ooo=

I wanted to pop my claws as I sped past the few grates I saw even before I reached my destination, but I controlled myself. I didn't know what would happen if my adamantium claws ripped something and broke it while traveling through this crazy fireplace subway.

The final grate approached, and I felt myself inexorably drawn toward it, unlike the others. I tensed, expecting to find a room full of Death Eaters just waiting for something to come through the fireplace. A feral grin came unbidden to my lips; I was looking forward to mixing it up without having to worry about who was a friend and who wasn't. Anyone at the destination I was going to was going to be an enemy.

I stepped into the room, halfway out from under the cloak before I realized there was nobody there. I looked around quickly, taking a few sniffs to see if anyone was about. But it was my ears that alerted me this time, the heavy footsteps of someone large approaching the room. I slipped Potter's cloak back over me and moved to a corner of the room.

A large, burly man with twisted features stepped into the room, looking around. He made a sniffing sound, then leaned out of the room to yell, "Oi! Did someone just Floo in? I thought I heard something!"

There was no answer. The man looked around the room again, his eyes passing over me more than once as I remained absolutely still, hardly even breathing. Finally he shook his head and walked out of the room.

I followed him.

This place, wherever it was, was thick with dust and decay. The smells stayed with me as I followed the twisted-faced man back to another room, where he rejoined two other men: a large blond and a thin-faced, dark-haired man with a thin mustache and goatee.

"Was it Snape?" the large blond asked. Twisted Feature Guy shook his head and dropped into a nearby chair. I moved silently to a position near them but out of the way of any sudden movements they might make toward the door.

"What the hell's his problem?" Thin-Faced Guy muttered. "We can't do a thing until he gets the Dark Lord fixed up. And Lestrange isn't helping things, either — she's been acting dodgy since Snape got her arm back together."

"I'm starting to wonder about Snape," the large blond said, leaning forward to speak softly. "He's not trying hard enough to put the Dark Lord right again."

"It's not like you could do it faster, Rowle — or at all," Thin-Face sneered.

Rowle scowled at that. "At least I'm more loyal than Snape seems to be!"

"Snape is performing his duties adequately," Twisted-Face said, dully. "And we have the Carrows in place to watch him, in case he falters. When the Dark Lord is restored he will visit Hogwarts itself, to encourage his loyal followers and to convince all other to join him."

Voldie was going to Hogwarts? I'd been told Hogwarts was a school for wizards, that things had changed there and it was now under his control and being run by Snape, the new Headmaster. But if I had anything to say about it Voldie would never leave this place.

The three men had fallen silent. I listened but couldn't hear anything else going on inside the house — they must have magic keeping sounds from traveling far. But smells weren't restricted, and I could smell Bellatrix easily enough. If I was right, she'd be wherever Voldie was.

It was about time to go exploring. I edged slowly toward the doorway, glad that Twisted Face had left the door open. I froze, however, as fast-moving footsteps approached from the other side.

Bellatrix stepped into the room, looking at the three men with an expression of bored contempt. "Any word from Snape?" she snapped.

"You were the last one with him," Rowle, the big blond muttered without looking up at her. "Seems like he'd contact you before he would us."

Bellatrix's lips twisted in anger at the insult but she merely said, "When he arrives bring him to the master's room straightaway." She turned and walked away. I followed her.

Bellatrix stopped in front of a pair of double doors; the hesitation she showed indicated that the room must be important. She pushed the doors open, they began closing automatically after she stepped through — I was barely able to squeeze between them as they shut. I moved off to one side, staying close to the wall, and took stock of this new location.

The stink of decay was heavy in this room. It had been some kind of dining area, based on the chandeliers in the ceiling and the expensive wood paneling, but now was dusty from disuse and neglect. The floor was wood as well, but was dull and scratched.

Then I saw the body on the table, and knew I'd hit paydirt.

It was Voldemort's body, that much was obvious; I could tell his scent by now over the other odors permeating the room. It wasn't moving, and I could tell under the sheet covering it that it was headless.

What was odd was that Bellatrix wasn't standing over it, but was hovering over another table next to it, a table with another body on it, standing such that I couldn't tell who it was. I moved slowly, changing my position until I could finally see who it was. A growl of rage nearly escaped me as I saw what they had done.

Voldemort's head was on the abdomen of the person lying on the table. I could see tentacles stretching out from beneath Snake-Boy's neck; they had attached themselves to the person lying there. Bellatrix was spooning mouthfuls of some type of soupy mixture into the person's mouth — the mouth opened and closed automatically, as if the person had no choice but to eat. Unbidden, my claws were slowly extending through my skin. My goal in coming here had been to find Voldemort's body and head and carve them up into sushi, hoping that these — these Death Eaters would not be able to reassemble him before Potter and his friends were able to find and destroy the rest of the Horcruxes.

But once I'd seen the face of the person lying on the table I knew I couldn't take the chance that whacking his head off her stomach would keep her alive. Her long red hair marked her as a Weasley — this must be the Weasley's daughter, Ginny.

How the hell was I going to save her from this?