Snape was all but carrying Draco by the time they reached the hospital wing – the younger Slytherin was barely able to stand on his own, never mind walk, so preoccupied was he with everything that had just happened. No matter what Draco did, the image of Dumbledore's lifeless form sprawled on the floor of the Astronomy tower wouldn't go away, and Nott's cruel taunts continued to play in his mind like a broken record. Snape had tried to get him to talk but once – just one look at the boy's clenched jaw had told the Potions master that his godson wouldn't speak until he was ready, and so they finished their journey in complete silence.
The hospital wing was more crowded than Draco had ever seen it, but thankfully, it looked like most of those present nursed only minor injuries at most. Ron Weasley occupied one hospital bed, his left leg bandaged from ankle to knee, and Madam Pomfrey was dabbing a strong-smelling ointment on a nasty cut on Hermione's arm. Ginny sat at the foot of Hermione's bed, covered in scrapes and bruises but otherwise unharmed, and Luna and Neville talked quietly together nearby. The others were all Hogwarts teachers and Order members – McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Arthur, Fred, and George Weasley. The bed at the far end of the ward had its curtains drawn, and Draco could hear quiet sniffling as if someone was crying – had the bloodied body he'd nearly tripped over been one of theirs, then? He didn't have time to ponder this further, however, as Ginny had spotted him.
"Draco!" she cried, jumping from her perch and racing over to hug him tightly. "Thank Merlin you're alright – Harry and Hermione filled me in on what you were doing, and everything just go so rushed and confusing when the Death Eaters attacked." She hugged him again, then frowned when she noticed the sorrowful, almost guilty expression on Draco's face.
"Draco?" she asked. "What's the matter? And have you seen Harry? I saw him running after Nott a while ago, but…"
"Harry's missing," Draco interrupted her.
"What?" Ginny asked.
"Harry's missing," Draco repeated, sounding agitated. "He left the grounds when he followed Nott, and someone grabbed onto him and Disapparated."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" George demanded. "Let's organize a rescue mission! If you take us to the spot where he disappeared, I'll bet we can find a magical trace and follow it – Dumbledore should know how to do something like that, shouldn't he?" Draco's already pale complexion went white – he really didn't want to be the one to break the news, but he was the only one in the room who knew what had happened.
"He can't, George," Draco said quietly.
"What do you mean? Of course he can, he's bloody bril-"
"He can't because he's dead!" Draco snapped. "Dumbledore's dead, alright? Dumbledore's dead, and it's all my bloody fault!"
"What the hell are you on about?" Fred demanded.
"I'm not lying, I saw it happen!" Draco practically shouted. His hands were shaking badly, and he knew his legs wouldn't support his weight much longer.
"Mr. Black, sit down immediately," Madam Pomfrey commanded, having finished tending to Hermione. Draco didn't have the strength to disobey and sank onto the nearest bed, which was directly across from Ron's.
"Drink," the mediwitch said, pressing a vial full of what Draco recognized as Calming Draught into his hands. Once more, Draco obeyed without hesitation, and he felt the potion's soothing effects almost instantly.
"Draco, do you think you could start from the beginning?" Mr. Weasley asked kindly. "Hermione already explained Professor Trelawney's prediction, but it seems like we're still missing some key information here." Draco swallowed heavily and nodded.
"Yes, you are," he replied softly. "Dumbledore and I were…away from Hogwarts this evening, but we returned as soon as we got the distress call on our Order coins. We flew back from Hogsmeade and landed on the Astronomy tower, and not even a minute later, Nott showed up and…" Draco stopped talking and dropped his gaze to the floor, not wanting to see the others' reactions to his tale.
"Nott killed Dumbledore?" Ginny all but whispered, her brown eyes wide. Draco nodded again.
"Yeah. No other curse looks quite like the Killing Curse, does it?" he said. Snape and McGonagall immediately left the room, no doubt off to check on the truth of Draco's story, while everyone else just stared at Draco in shock.
"I always thought he was an arrogant arse, but I never thought…" Neville trailed off as if unsure of how to finish his sentence, but Ron quickly cut in.
"An arrogant arse, Neville? He's a bloody murderer!" Draco looked up just in time to catch Ron staring at him angrily. "And weren't you tutoring him this year?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Hermione demanded sharply.
"Well it's a bit odd, isn't it?" Ron retorted. "I thought Black hated Nott as much of the rest of us, but then all of a sudden they're working together?" Draco didn't miss Ron's use of his surname and surreptitiously drew his wand.
"Tutoring someone in Charms doesn't help make them a murderer, you moron," Ginny said.
"It does if that's how Nott got so good at his spells!" Ron spat.
"Ron, the Killing Curse isn't taught in Charms class, you know that…"
"But spells similar to those needed to fix a Vanishing Cabinet are," Draco interrupted quietly. All heads whipped around to stare at him.
"What did you say?" Ginny whispered.
"That's how Nott did it – he found out where the broken Vanishing Cabinet was and fixed it. He didn't say where its mate was, but it's obviously somewhere those Death Eaters could get to easily. And I…I did tutor him in Charms this year, and I probably taught him some of the spells he needed. Before he ran, he said he couldn't have done it without my help." Draco's voice grew steadily softer and more ashamed as he spoke, until his last words were barely more than a whisper.
There was a long pause following Draco's declaration, and then Ron broke it:
"You ruddy bastard!" Before anyone could react, Ron launched himself out of his bed, his wand pointed at Draco. Draco only just managed to duck as Ron threw the first spell.
"Mr. Weasley, what do you think you're doing?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, but Ron didn't hear her – he was too angry to focus on anything other than his quarry, and Draco repelled a Stunner with a quick Shield Charm. The others looked like they wanted to intervene, but the space was so small, and Draco and Ron were dueling so fiercely, that they risked being hit themselves if they tried.
"You gave him the tools he needed, you prick!" Ron shouted, throwing another spell. "I knew there was a reason I never fully trusted you, you Slytherins are all the same…"
"Ron!"
"Stupefy!"
"Stop it!"
"Impedimenta!"
"Petrificus-"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!"
Snape and McGonagall reentered the ward just as Ron's last spell hit Draco square in the chest, ripping several angry gashes across his torso and instantly staining his uniform shirt with scarlet blood. Draco collapsed backwards onto his bed, gritting his teeth in pain and trying not to pass out, and Hermione tried to launch herself at Ron but was held back by the twins.
"Let me GO, damn you!" she shouted. "Ugh, where's my-"
"Ron, what the hell did you do?" Ginny shrieked. Angry dialogue flew from all directions until Professor McGonagall finally shouted, "Enough!" Everyone quieted at once. In the absence of the shouting, they could hear Snape murmuring a song-like incantation as he moved his wand over Draco's injuries, the remnants of the blond's tattered shirt ripped open and cast to the side to reveal the ugly mess beneath.
"Mr. Weasley, of all the absolutely-" Professor McGonagall began, but Snape cut her off.
"Minerva, stop. He might be a Gryffindor, but this one's mine to deal with." McGonagall must've sensed that Snape knew something she didn't, because she did not object. Snape turned his full attention to Ron, who gulped.
"Mr. Weasley," Snape said, employing his most intimidating tone. "I suggest you answer me truthfully, and answer me now – where did you learn that spell?" Behind Snape, they could see Draco – he was unconscious, but the steady rise and fall of his chest showed that he was only sleeping, and he seemed to be doing so peacefully.
"I…" Ron couldn't say which was worse – Snape towering over him, or the murderous look in the still struggling Hermione's eyes.
"Now, Mr. Weasley."
"I found it in a book," Ron finally whispered.
"And which book was that?" Hermione hissed. "I wasn't aware you were reading up on Dark spells for fun, Ronald!"
"It wasn't a Dark Arts book," Ron said.
"But then-"
"Miss Granger, quiet," Snape interjected. "I know exactly which book that spell came from, and if Mr. Weasley knows what's good for him, he will bring it to my office the instant he is released from this ward." He gave Ron a pointed look, and Ron, still looking terrified, nodded. Snape then turned to McGonagall.
"Minerva, I must be going," he said. "There are…things I must see to, the sooner the better. If there are other things Mr. Black needs to know about tonight, they must wait until he wakes – I've given him painkillers and a Sleeping Draught, and it's essential he rest undisturbed so he doesn't toss and reopen his wounds."
"Be safe," Professor McGonagall replied. Snape nodded once more and swept from the room.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, explain yourself," Ginny demanded as soon as Snape was gone.
"Professor Slughorn gave it to me – the book," Ron replied, swallowing audibly. "When…on the first day of class, he let some of us borrow books, you know, those of us who got Es on our O.W.L.s and thought we wouldn't be continuing with Potions…erm…well, that's the book he gave me."
"You're telling me you found that spell in a Potions textbook?" Hermione snapped in disbelief.
"The whole book was covered in notes. I could barely read most of them – could barely read most of the actual text, to be honest. I ignored most of it, but I did find some spells and wrote them down. That's all I did, I swear. Dunno whose book it was – it said 'Property of the Half-Blood Prince' or something like that on the back, but there wasn't a name in it or anything."
"Ron, did you learn nothing after the fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets?" Ginny demanded. "You didn't know who that diary belonged to either, and look what happened there – you were lucky nobody died! And yet you still thought it was ok to write down a bunch of unknown spells and test them out? How thick are you?"
"Gin, the others I tested were all harmless, really-"
"But you didn't know that when you tested them, did you? I'm not going to ask what you tested them on, but what if one of them had actually been harmful, and you'd hurt someone?" She paused to glare at her brother. "Oh wait…that's exactly what just happened, isn't it?"
"Ginny, that's enough," her father warned. "The last thing we need tonight is more fighting. But Ron, we will be having words about this when you get home, and don't think I'll be disagreeing with whatever punishment Snape sees fit to give you." Ron hung his head in shame.
"I didn't mean to hurt him," he said quietly. "Not like that."
"You still wanted to do some damage," Hermione retorted, sounding thoroughly disgusted. "After everything we've done, everything Draco's been through with us and done with us, and you still don't trust him? It's horrible enough that he's clearly blaming himself for everything that happened tonight, he doesn't need you throwing that back in his face!"
"Speaking of everything that happened tonight…" Mr. Weasley looked to Professor McGonagall, who nodded solemnly.
"Albus Dumbledore is dead," she said in little more than a whisper. Gasps rang through the ward and several people began to cry. Minerva herself removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes before continuing.
"I honestly cannot say if Hogwarts will remain open after this," she said. "Dumbledore considered closing the school four years ago when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and this – Death Eaters in Hogwarts itself, murder on school grounds – is far worse. We'll be sending the students home as soon as possible."
"What are we going to do about Harry?" Neville asked. "We can't just leave him with whoever's got him, can we?"
"No, Mr. Longbottom, but I'm afraid there isn't much we can do," Kingsley said. "None of you noticed because you were too preoccupied with what Mr. Black had to say, but I sent for a team of Aurors to examine the grounds for any hint as to where Harry might have gone – they found nothing. Whoever took Harry was exceptionally careful about it, and unless we somehow find another clue, he's on his own."
Harry groaned as he landed hard in the middle of a field, his head and upper body colliding with the unyielding earth beneath. He felt disoriented and dizzy and sat up much slower than he would've liked, considering he had no idea where he was or who had brought him here. He did, however, notice that his wand was missing, and as he'd tossed Nott's wand aside on top of the Astronomy tower and wasn't carrying his knife, he had no weapon.
"Well, well…Harry Potter." The voice was soft but menacing, and Harry scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, whirling to face…
"You," he breathed, trying his hardest not to show his fear. The hooded figure was hooded no more, and Harry could see chalk white skin, blood red eyes, and slits where nostrils should have been. The…creature before him was far more grotesque than the version Harry had witnessed in the Pensieve, but there was no mistaking his identity.
"Me," Voldemort replied, baring his teeth. "Such a pleasure to see you." He twirled a wand between long, skeletally thin fingers, and Harry was disappointed when he didn't recognize it. Where was his wand?
"I can't say the same for you, I'm afraid," Harry replied. He frantically tried to remember everything Snape had taught him during Occlumency lessons and prayed with everything he had that he could block a mental assault if Voldemort came after him that way. He knew too much about too many important things to come out of such an encounter alive – of course, he knew he had a fair chance of dying tonight anyway, given his captor, but if he had to die, he'd rather do so with Voldemort remaining ignorant of others' knowledge of his Horcruxes.
"Pity," Voldemort said with a sneer. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"For what?" Harry spat. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No, I'm not going to kill you – not right away, at least," Voldemort said with an eerie chuckle. "I've a proposition for you, Potter."
"And what's that?" Harry asked warily. He had no idea why Voldemort was engaging him in conversation, but the reasoning couldn't be good.
"I've always been curious," Voldemort said softly, "as to how a boy such as yourself has thwarted me so many times – you left your home alive that Halloween night, you bested my younger self four years ago, you didn't touch the Portkey Viktor Krum so kindly set up during the Triwizard Tournament…was that all due to skill, I wonder, or just dumb luck? And now I find myself wondering, what would happen if we were to duel?"
"You…you want me to duel you?" Harry gasped, his eyebrows raised.
"Precisely. I think it shall be a most amusing encounter before I finally kill you," Voldemort said. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to pick up your wand, we'll begin." A flash of light from his own wand illuminated Harry's, which had fallen to the grass not fifteen feet away. Harry hastened to scoop it up, never once removing Voldemort from his line of sight.
"Where are we?" Harry demanded as he raised his wand. He had no idea what sort of spell he might cast, but the familiar holly was at least comforting in his hand.
"Nowhere of consequence," Voldemort replied. "And do you really think I'd tell you where we are and risk you contacting your little friends? I think not, Potter. Now, be a good opponent and bow."
"No," Harry said immediately.
"What?" Voldemort hissed.
"I said, no," Harry repeated. "I will never bow to the likes of you."
"Impertinent brat." Voldemort raised his wand, and Harry felt his spine curve without his permission, forcing him into a bow. He fought it off as quickly as he could, his expression furious, and raised his wand.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry wasn't surprised that Voldemort's first choice was the Killing Curse, but he was surprised when the jet of green light never reached him – instead, it connected with the red of the Disarming Charm and created a single beam of brightest gold, linking the two wands. That beam split into many smaller beams, arcing over their heads until they were surrounded by a large golden cage, and smooth beads of light began moving along the arc connecting the two wands. Harry suspected he didn't want those beads to touch his wand, and so he forced them towards Voldemort with all of his concentration, the beads eventually connecting with Voldemort's wand.
Whatever Harry was expecting, it wasn't for a large shape to emerge from Voldemort's wand. At first it was too blurry to distinguish, but then Harry could see a head…a torso…sweet Merlin, it was a person. The…ghost of one? No, not exactly – it looked too solid to be a ghost, but it was the same pearly-white color…following that person came a second, and then a third…on and on it went. The ghosts stared at Harry, some whispering things in languages he didn't understand. What was he supposed to do? A moment later, however, another body emerged, and Harry gasped as he recognized the young man standing before him.
"Cedric!" he said. "What on earth…"
"Hey, Harry," Cedric Diggory replied, flashing him a small smile. "Good to see you again."
"Cedric...what's going on? Er…what are you?" Harry asked. Cedric chuckled.
"I guess you could say I'm a memory," he said. "An echo of my living self. Voldemort killed me, you see, as well as all these other folks." He gestured to the other opaque people floating next to him.
"But then that means…" Harry looked at the memory people, who'd continued to stream out of Voldemort's wand as he and Cedric spoke. Voldemort himself looked both furious and terrified, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make their wands react like this. So far, he hadn't recognized any of the other people, but then something happened that nearly made his heart stop. A tall, thin man emerged from Voldemort's wand, and if Harry didn't know any better, he'd say he was looking at himself – the man had the same wild hair and glasses, and the same mischievous grin.
"Harry," the man said, giving him a fond smile. Harry felt a lump in his throat.
"Dad…"
"Yeah – although I didn't get to be 'Dad' for nearly as long as I would've liked," James replied with a frown. He ran his fingers through his hair in almost the exact same manner Harry did. "I'm proud of you, Harry – so proud. Of everything you've done, and everything you're going to do."
"Everything I'm going to do?" Harry repeated.
"Well, you're going to get out of here, aren't you?" James asked.
"I…Dad, how am I supposed to do that?" Harry exclaimed.
"You're showing a disappointing lack of Marauder education here," James said, raising his eyebrows. Harry snorted.
"I do still live with Padfoot, you know," he said pointedly. "But need I remind you who's at the other end of this wand?"
"Oh, forget him," James scoffed. "We're going to help you, of course."
"How? And what the bloody hell is going on here?"
"Now that sounds more like Padfoot," James said with a chuckle. "Give him my best, will you? Anyway, this is what you call Priori Incantatem – basically, your wand is forcing old Voldie's to regurgitate every spell it's ever cast, in reverse order. There are so many people here because these are all people Voldemort's killed."
"Which is why Mum's not here, because Voldemort wasn't the one who killed her," Harry said.
"No – she said it was some bloke called Dolohov. Quite frankly, I don't care who it was, you better make sure he goes the same way as Voldemort – nobody gets to kill my wife and get away with it. She sends her love to all of you, by the way." Harry laughed a little at his father's joke but suddenly found himself unable to speak as the painful memory of losing his mother returned.
"Erm…listen, Harry, as much as I'd love to continue our chat, we don't have much time," James said then. "Voldemort's terrified of what's happening, but I can't imagine he'll stay that way forever, so we have to take advantage of it while we can. When I say so, you must break the line binding your wands together."
"Break it?" Harry repeated. "But then won't he be able to cast another spell at me?"
"Not right away," James replied. "We can hold him off for a bit, but I can't guarantee you more than thirty seconds or so, which is why as soon as you break that bond, you must get yourself out of here."
"But…"
"No buts, Harry, just do it!" Harry nodded.
"Alright."
"Good lad – I love you and I'm proud of you. On the count of three then: one, two, three!"
Harry yanked upwards as hard as he could, severing the connection. The golden threads began to vanish, and the memory people swarmed Voldemort, blocking him from Harry's view. A few of the memory people had already begun to disappear, however, and Harry knew he couldn't just stand there and wait. He turned and ran as fast as he could, putting several hundred yards' distance between himself and Voldemort, then turned around again and braced himself for what he was about to do.
"Love you too, Dad," he said quietly. He took a deep breath and braced himself.
"I've got to get back to Hogwarts," he muttered, and then, concentrating hard on Destination, Determination, and Deliberation, he turned on the spot and vanished.
Harry fell to his knees and retched as soon as he landed in Hogsmeade – he knew he was lucky his only problem was feeling sick, since he'd been Merlin knew how far away just moments ago and had only ever Apparated a few feet on his own before. Aside from his churning stomach, however, he'd done it – he'd successfully Apparated himself out of danger and could see the lights of Hogwarts twinkling in the distance. Not wanting to waste any more time – a glance at his watch told him it was going on two in the morning – he stood up and began to jog down the High Street. He was dismayed but not surprised to find the castle's front gates securely locked. Thinking quickly, he summoned the warm feeling of his friends and family and cast his Patronus, the little mongoose soon racing away with the message that he'd returned. Harry bent over and braced his hands on his knees while he waited, thoroughly worn out from the night's ordeal and still feeling ill from his impromptu long-distance Apparition. His vision began to cloud over as the full extent of the last several hours set in, and he barely made it through the gates with Professor McGonagall before he succumbed to the exhaustion and collapsed.
A/N: And now we know where Harry went...& Ron's temper got the better of him. Whoops.
A couple of (rather lovely) reviews have brought to my attention an extreme oversight on my part - in the very first A/N of this story, when I said that Sirius' story is my own, I meant that it was my own creation, not that it paralleled my own life. It didn't even occur to me when I typed it that it could be read that way, & I'm truly sorry for the confusion - it's amazing what omitting a single word can do, huh? I have never lost a lover the way Sirius did & hopefully never will - I have also changed that A/N so it says what I actually meant. Again, I take all credit for that one.
Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Hopefully you all got chapter 22 - the email alert didn't send until at least 10 hours after I posted the chapter, so I'm not sure what happened there. In any case, only 1 or 2 more chapters of this one, & then we're on to part 7.
JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R&R, & enjoy! To all my fellow Americans - Happy 4th of July! :)