A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not
Summary: Harry has a cold.
Disclaimer: Harry and company are not mine. I'm just borrowing them to flesh out a thought I had on the plane to Boston back in September. I promise to return them (mostly) unscathed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry sniffled again, wishing he'd thought to grab a few extra handkerchiefs in the mad rush from Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius. A spell whizzed by his ear. Harry turned and fired a stunner in the direction he thought it had come from. It was hard to concentrate on the battle around him when his sinuses felt ready to explode.
A Death Eater seemed to appear from nowhere in front of him, firing hexes in rapid succession at the Boy Who Lived. Harry hastily put up a 'Protego' before firing hexes back at the masked assailant. The Death Eater almost lazily blocked or deflected all of Harry's attacks, closing in on him. Finally, one of Harry's hexes found its mark, a 'Confringo' that shattered the Death Eater's mask, revealing the face of Lucius Malfoy.
Harry was startled by the unmasking of his attacker. He knew that Draco's father was a Death Eater, but he had not expected to see the aristocrat on the front lines of one of Voldemort's campaigns. Harry was so distracted by his small success's revelation that he did not see Lucius's stunning spell until it was upon him.
The next thing Harry knew, he was being roused from his stupor, a cold, harsh voice incanting 'Enervate.' Harry found himself being held upright by Lucius Malfoy on his left, and a still-masked Death Eater on his right. Before him stood Lord Voldemort himself.
"You have done well, Lucius," Voldemort hissed.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, trying to block out the combined pain of his scar and his sinuses and think of something heroic and witty to say. He felt his nose twitch, and, without warning, Harry sneezed, mucus and spewtum flying into Voldemort's face. Lucius and the other Death Eater were so surprised they let their grips on Harry's arms loosen.
The Boy Who Lived lived through an encounter with Voldemort once again and bolted for the exit.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lord Voldemort fixed his watery red eyes on his pet Potions Master, Severus Snape. "You have a new potion?" he wheezed.
"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied, handing a smoky brown vial to the Dark Lord while shoving the memory of decanting muggle Nyquil into it to the furthest recesses of his mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"BODY OF HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED DEPOSITED IN FRONT OF MINISTRY: DEATH EATERS AS GLAD TO SEE HIM GONE AS ANYONE ELSE" proclaimed the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet. The article went on to speculate about the involvement of The-Boy-Who-Lived in the demise of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named and promised the details of the autopsy as soon as they were released, saying only that Unspeakables were in the process of examining the body.
Hermione folded her paper and looked across the table at Harry. "That's that," she said. "If the article on page three is to be any indication, it seems absence does make the heart grow fonder, even for Death Eaters routinely tortured by their Lord. Apparently they forgot about the torture part of their service in his twelve-year hiatus."
Ron snorted into his eggs, "Blimey, how could they forget something like that?"
"Same way Quidditch players forget how awful bludger hits are, or how the feeling of a toxic hangover manages to elicit so many proclamations to the effect of quitting drinking for good only 'till the next lads night comes around," Seamus opined.
"How'd you do it, Harry?" Neville asked. "You haven't left the castle since the Department of Mysteries battle."
"What?" Harry felt every eye at the table bore into him. "I sneezed on him."