Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... but I do own this story! Yay for small delights!
A/N: I'm blown away by all the reviews! Nice to see some old and new names sending me feedback; it's awesome! I bet by now some of my old readers/reviewers have moved on, given the lengthy interval I had... -sniff- It consoles me to see some familiar faces return though! Thank you to all who helped hasten the coming of this chappy: crazyme03, Madam Whitbrook, Leenniepeennie, Element's Sole Protector, 10thWeasley, TwilightsCalling, Valid User Name, foosel97, Cowabunga, Haunted, jimmy-barnes-13, and hi.
It Ends Now
Part 29: "Burning Burrow"
Ron and Harry simultaneously reached out for Hermione as she flagged, both fearing the worst. Fortunately, her eyes remained open and alert as she rested against the thick bark. Ginny compensated by scooping up a handful of snow and offering it to the elder female. Hermione chuckled weakly, melting the cold substance against her sweaty forehead.
"Just give me a minute, guys. I'll be fine in a sec-"
Harry waved wildly for her to shut up, listening intently as Macnair's jeering ultimatum pierced his eardrums. No doubt a little "Sonorous" was involved as the demand echoed around the yard. The quartet paled into complementing shades of white as he spoke.
"Harry Potter!" his baritone boomed. "You and your little friends have three seconds to get out of the house or it goes up in flames. Three..."
"One!" howled Rudolph Lestrange triumphantly, stabbing his wand in the direction of the Burrow. "INCENDIO!"
"Lestrange, you idiot!" barked Macnair in admonishment. "You didn't give them any time-"
"What difference does it make?" Lestrange sneered, watching with pleasure as flames burgeoned and started licking all four corners of the house. "The Dark Lord wants him dead. We're just aiding the process along-"
"THE DARK LORD WANTS POTTER'S DEATH TO BE DONE BY HIS HAND!" Macnair bellowed, turning his wand threateningly on the mad husband of Bellatrix. An argument ensued between the two Death Eaters, but all the while the fire crept higher and higher up the siding. The hidden four felt their hearts plummet as the house they loved so dearly began slowly crumbling and bursting at the sheer heat. Hermione and Ginny had let out muffled screams while Ron froze like an icicle, expression horror-struck. Harry, on the other hand, was hyperventilating in a belligerent bid for oxygen. He grappled at his chest, kneading it...
And was surprised to feel something cold and hard dig into his skin.
What the-?
And then revelation dawned, and Harry cursed his own stupidity.
The protering! How could he have forgotten this crucial- and altogether more reliable- method of communicating with Dumbledore?
Harry fumbled around for the metal ring, yanking it out impatiently by the string. He squeezed the spherical object, then hissed, "Protering Activate!" Ron glanced over at Harry, countenance glazed and milky.
"Help is on the way," Harry soothed shakily, but he could not help shivering at the sight of the Burrow burning. If the Order did not come- if he did not do something soon- the house of the Weasleys' childhood would be forever lost.
And then, another concern, far greater than the first:
"Oh, my God... my parents haven't come out yet!" Ginny sobbed, eyes avidly searching for the couple from which she was birthed. Harry's breath caught again, and his mind reeled dizzily.
That's it... I'm not going to lose them too... Ron and Ginny deserve a happy future...
Harry made to dart out from behind the swollen tree trunk, wand raised and ready, but Hermione grabbed his cloak. The sixteen year old tripped and pitched forward onto snowy ground.
"Harry, no!" the bushy-haired pedantic cried, frightened features illuminated orange by the inferno. "Stay here; the Order is coming, you said so yourself-"
"Hermione, don't you understand? I'm clueless how to contact the Order; I'm not a member! My information is second-hand! Don't trust my reassurances; they're all speculation!" Harry pled desperately, trying to untangle himself from her.
"But Harry-"
"Let me go! If they're not here now, they're not coming at all!"
Hermione refused to relinquish her grip, and Harry lashed out, "Do you want Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to die?"
With a strange little half-cough, half-wail, Hermione released his heavy outer covering. Harry felt remorse gnaw the pit of his stomach, but other than acknowledge its existence, the boy did nothing else. He took a couple cautious steps forward, leaving the tree's protection completely. Suddenly, Harry felt bare and unconcealed... All his senses were suddenly on acute and he focused entirely on his mission:
Getting the Weasley parents out and if he was lucky, the fire as well.
While fighting off a dozen or so Death Eaters.
Suicidal? Perhaps. But he could not- would not- stand by and watch as two people he loved were burned to death. It went against everything he believed in; fought for... all that forged his nature; all that was Harry.
So to hell with his own life.
But apparently, the trio behind him had roughly the same idea.
"You're not going alone, Harry," Ron said determinedly as he appeared on the raven-head's right, a steely edge to his tone as he drew his wand. The females snuck up on Harry's left, and the aforementioned seeker groaned.
"Guys, no- go back- it's too dangerous!"
"For once in your life, Harry, shut up and let other people shoulder some of your responsibilities," Ron retorted, but no menace penetrated his voice. Pure, unmasked honesty leaked out of his words. "Why don't you go hide for once, and let us fight?"
"What? Ron, are you serious? You know I couldn't possibly-"
"I'm quite serious, mate," the red-head drawled. "Seems unreasonable, right? Well, now you've had a taste of life in our shoes. It's not fair, huh? Constantly being told we should run and save ourselves... well, what if we simply don't want to? What if we want to protect our best friend so he can survive as well? We're capable of fighting, Harry. We don't want to lose you just as much as you don't want to lose us."
Harry saw the truth in his best friend's reasoning, but that didn't make his acceptance any easier.
"Fine," he concurred reluctantly. "I suppose with all four of us there's a better chance of taking down more Death Eaters."
"That's the spirit," Ginny chuckled, but no merriment danced in her hollow orbs. The light of the fire still played off the youngest Weasley's hair, making the auburn stand out. She nodded at Harry, and with resolve in their footsteps the Gryffindors stealthed up to face their opponents.
Unfortunately, the odds of winning their sabotage decreased rapidly when a new person entered the scene.
Harry yelped in surprise, hand arching for his scar even as Lord Voldemort came thundering toward the Burrow. With almost no thought involved, Harry and his posse threw themselves onto the ground and prayed to whatever fates that be for enough tree coverage. Unfortunately, they were now trapped just before the treeline, with the barest of icy brush and young trees to secrete their prostrate forms. Fortunately, the Dark Lord seemed very distracted by his celebrating Death Eaters and was not interested in the hallows of a Wizard Forest. He was more keen on shouting bloody murder at them, and gesturing wildly at the blaze enveloping the Burrow.
"WHAT IS THIS!?" he roared, and Harry felt shivers race up and down his spine. He bit down hard on his lip, ignoring the hot blood dribbling down his chin as a result. The pain in his scar was crescendoing in mimic of Voldemort's fury, but he was afraid his nemesis would pick up on the slightest sound. The snake-like man was so close to the woods, and his cower-inducing stalk only served to bring Voldemort into greater propinquity with the quivering quartet. Harry was positive that at any moment, Voldemort would look over and catch sight of a black cloak, and after further peering inspection discover he and his friends. The seeker squeezed his protering again, fearful of speaking the spell a second time. Sensitive ears were too near...
Help me, Dumbledore! Why aren't you here? Where's the Order?
"WHAT. THE. HELL. IS. THIS!?" Lord Voldemort screeched again. If the situation were different, Harry might have laughed aloud. The most feared Dark Wizard was currently channeling a petulant child. He seemed ready for a good foot-stomp followed by a tantrum. But, the snow was cold on Harry's face and arms, and the glow of his favorite home became brighter than ever as the fire rose. There was still no sign of life from within.
"We thought-" Lestrange began, but with a slash of his wand Voldemort had the Death Eater screaming. The ebony-headed minion writhed and jerked on the ground under the full weight of a Cruciatus.
"I DID NOT SANCTION THIS ATTACK! Hold your tongue! I have half a mind to kill you now, blithering fool!"
"M-m-my Lord," Macnair stuttered, falling to his knees when Voldemort whirled terrifyingly on him. "W-we only received knowledge of how to breech the wards a short time ago, and we thought you'd surely approve an attack if it meant capturing Harry Potter-"
"And where is the boy, Macnair?" Voldemort sneered, forcing his newest prey into Cruciatus. "Tell me, you worthless idiot! Because I don't see him around... do you? You know Potter is mine, and yet you completely disregard an order and attempt to burn him to death inside a house!"
Macnair was left gasping for air on the ground, and Voldemort pivoted to gaze contemplatively at the Burrow. He fingered his lip, tracing it. "Imbecilic though you are, this is a treat and potentially a prized triumph. This renewing fire could mean a shifting tide in the war. If Harry Potter is out of the way..."
"Now you see our perspective-" Lestrange butted in with relief, but was severely silenced with another Cruciatus.
"Shut up, Rudolph. I said it was a treat. That does not mean your insubordination will go unpunished."
A collective tremor pulsed its way through the Death Eater throng.
"Harry," Hermione choked almost inaudibly. Harry twitched his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Hermione jerked her head backward, wordlessly gesturing to something in the woods. Harry moved ever-so-slightly to provide vision back into the forest. What he saw was a very strange sight indeed.
A silver phoenix- transparent and dignified- was hopping around next to the tree the Gryffindors had previously found safety behind. If it was possible for a ghostly spector to look confused, then the phoenix was most definitely obfuscated. It opened its mouth to let out a shrill and irritated call-
"Pst!" Harry hissed, a bolt of fear rebounding down his body. Luckily, the bird didn't make a noise and instead glided seamlessly over to the dorsicumbent friends. Voldemort remained cackling at the Burrow, eyes focused in the opposite direction. Chancing it, Harry asked,
"What... who are you? Are you... Professor Dumbledore's?"
The phoenix opened its beak.
Hopefully the fire caused enough distracting sound as it cackled and undulated toward the sky, because Dumbledore's "reassuring" message did nothing to bolster Harry's anxiety. It sounded too loud to his ears.
"Stay where you are. Help is coming, but we're stuck behind various counter-enchantments."
So that was why the Order was taking longer than usual...
The patronus dissipated, but when Harry looked back to the Burrow his blood froze.
Voldemort was staring directly at him, an exultant grin marring his serpentine features. The expression on his visage was pure delight. One benighted Muggle might even assume Christmas had made a come-back. The crimson-eyed villain pointed his wand at the group- all inwardly swearing in a fit of terror and frustration- and chanted a spell almost cheerily.
"Incarcerous!"
Instantly, ropes shot up from the ground and wound themselves around Harry and his companions. Lurched unpleasantly upward and subsequently slammed into a tree, the Gryffindors found themselves pinned together. Movement was quite limited; Harry couldn't have itched his nose even if he wanted to. The boy growled at Voldemort, now sauntering toward them with glee in his step and the promise of pain painted across his countenance.
A/N: Heh heh, MORE cliffhangers! I dare you to come hunt me down! But... if all you axe-wielding reviewers kill me, there'll be no conclusion... hmm, that's quite a conundrum, isn't it? The more who review, the faster I'll attempt to update!
AngelMoon Girl