A/N: Sorry about the wait. Hopefully the longer length will help make up for that. As always, thanks to all who continue to review, I really appreciate it.
Chapter 8: Potentia Detrimentum
Regulus had seen a considerable number of duels since his initiation as a Death Eater, but none of them could compare to the one he was about to witness. He looked up at the snake and the phoenix, curious. It was clear that both creatures weren't live animals—they seemed to be magic concentrated into the specific forms of their caster's choosing. Gazing at them filled him with a combination of amazement and intimidation.
As the firebird swooped down to hover beside Dumbledore, Regulus shifted uncomfortably. Regulus' gray eyes might have been focused on the scene in front of him, but his mind was distracted, anxious about the outcome of the confrontation. He doubted that he would be able to stand on the sidelines, watching indifferently, if his master was victorious. Even though he didn't know Dumbledore very well, Regulus didn't want to see his Headmaster seriously injured, or worse.
He reverted his attention and nearly had to stop himself from shouting, "Look out!" A Killing Curse from Voldemort's wand had soared over Dumbledore's shoulder; many people were forced to scamper out of the way as it struck a tapestry on the far wall, causing it to burst into green flames.
What am I doing? Regulus thought, as he tried unsuccessfully to push his concern to the back of his conscience. I'm a Death Eater—I can't be worrying about the Order!
Suddenly, Voldemort looked past Dumbledore and, for a few seconds, his piercing red eyes met Regulus'. The intensity of the gaze gave Regulus the exposed feeling that the Dark Lord was reading his mind, and with a jolt, he remembered that Voldemort was a Legilimens and indeed completely capable of that very feat. Regulus quickly glanced away.
"What should we do, Master?" Nott asked eagerly.
"Do nothing," Voldemort flicked his wand. The giant snake twisted around and encircled the two duelists, preventing any of the others from interfering. "Dumbledore is mine—His death will fall by my hand alone."
Angry protests and raising of wands from various Order members followed his statement, and Dumbledore held up a hand to quell them before speaking.
"The Order should note the same applies to them. I do not want anyone placing themselves in danger for my sake."
The phoenix leapt from its perch on Dumbledore's shoulder and flew at the serpent, jabbing its beak at any spot it could reach. The snake hissed and snapped at the smaller animal as it soared overhead.
Somewhere nearby the battle had broken out again between the two sides, and the remainder of the room was filled with the multicolored flares of hexes and curses. Regulus saw Sirius busy fighting the Death Eater Mulciber, though he did not care. His mind wandered back to the fearful suspicion that Voldemort had seen his disloyal thoughts and about what would happen to him as a consequence.
Knowing what he must do, Regulus pointed his wand and singled out the person who would serve to prove where his allegiance truly resided.
-------------------------------
Dumbledore waved his wand; at the same time Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!" The two spells collided in midair and exploded with a spray of red and green sparks. There was a shrill cry as the phoenix dived—its fiery talons raked the snake's side, but could not inflict any lasting damage to its amorphous body.
"And they say you're the greatest wizard of the age," said Voldemort. "Is this the culmination of your power, Dumbledore? A pitiful songbird?"
He made a rapid slashing motion with his wand and Dumbledore took a step back, clasping his left hand over his side. The phoenix let out a pained squawk, flickered, and vanished.
Then, a horrible grating sound filled the hall as something long and metallic sprung off a mantle above a doorway. Dumbledore found himself face-to-face with a row of spears poised precariously in the air. They revolved slowly on the spot, their pointed heads gleaming, before plunging themselves at the older wizard. Dumbledore conjured a shield in time to deflect them; they hit the white barrier with such force that one was knocked spiraling into the crowd.
Before the other ancient relics hit the ground, Dumbledore transfigured them into four solid icicles and sent them hurling back into the opposite direction, aiming not at his enemy, but instead at the snake. The first two icicles missed as the monster wrinkled to one side; the third grazed its middle while the fourth struck it perfectly between the eyes. The creature's hiss of fury was muffled as the icicles melted and refroze, encasing the snake in a layer of ice. Then, the glistening cocoon cracked and broke, splitting its captive into a heap of jagged pieces, and ensuring that it wouldn't be able to reform itself again.
-----------------------------------
Regulus fell back, panting, straightening his hood and mask. In front of him Marlene McKinnon also paused, seizing the opportunity to magically heal the bruise she had sustained on her forearm. Regulus fingered the large rip that ran along his own sleeve and frowned in frustration; he hadn't expected Lily Potter's old school mate to be such a formidable opponent. He took aim and shouted, "Stupefy!" But Marlene had finished and was prepared for his attack.
"Impedimenta!" she said as she evaded his stunner.
"Protego!" Regulus countered, though too late. The tail end of the spell was successfully blocked but the front got him head-on. His vision blurred and he blinked, rubbing his stinging eyes. He could hear Marlene uttering another incantation and saw the flash of light through his impaired range of sight. Regulus leapt blindly to his right and bumped into something hard. He squinted, but all he could make out were whirls of color and shadows.
He stumbled backward and touched the tip of his wand to his temple while muttering, "Finite." As his vision instantly cleared, he turned away from the upset table he had run into and faced Marlene again.
Before either of them had moved an inch, there was a loud clang and a silver glint caught Regulus' attention. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he realized what it was; reacting instinctively, he dived to the floor just as the object zipped over him. A little shaken, he got to his feet and looked behind him where the spear had embedded itself in the wall, its wooden shaft still quivering.
------------------------------
"Your abilities have matured since last you arrived a student in my class those many years ago," said Dumbledore, taking a step forward. His powerful spells were forcing Voldemort to back away toward the rear of the foyer. "You still, however, have much to learn."
"I've performed feats of magic that far transcend anything you could have taught me," Voldemort extended his hand into the air. A heavy darkness fell upon the room and a wind could be heard pounding against the building, viciously rattling the windows.
"True," Dumbledore admitted, "but you only know one side of wizardry. You fail to recognize there is a second, stronger dimension, a dimension that has infinite power." He paused, waiting patiently for Voldemort to respond. "Love, Tom, it is love."
"Love?" Voldemort laughed. "Your eccentricities never fail, Dumbledore. Have you any more fairytale morals you wish to enlighten me with?" There was obvious irritation in the Dark Lord's voice; the storm seemed to increase in brutality, the wind now howling through the cracks between the windowpane and the glass.
"Certainly," Dumbledore said, "though I see it is best I say nothing at all-- expecting you to listen would be hopeful to the point of foolishness."
Suddenly, the front window shattered. The gale blew into the hall, slamming the doors open and shut, and knocking things from the walls. There was a tremendous groan as the pressure of the wind became too great, and then, with an ominous crack and creaking sound, sections of the structure began to fold inward. The stronger reinforced walls held in place, but the weaker ones were easily thrown over as though they were pieces of paper.
The scene grew chaotic. Death Eaters and Order members hurried to get out of harm's way as more chunks of wood and tiles rained down around them; people were fleeing into the road while others chose the surrounding lawns of neighboring cottages.
There was a last, horrible moan as the chimney and roof collapsed. In a twirl of his cloak Dumbledore was gone; it appeared for a moment that he had given up and left, but then Voldemort saw that the elder man had only transported himself onto the frosty yard, a safe distance from the crumbling headquarters. At the last possible second, with the plummeting debris mere inches away from crushing him, Voldemort directed his wand upward, causing it to halt in mid-fall. He flung it aside and followed suit after Dumbledore, Disapparating with a whip-like CRACK.
-----------------------------
The cold night air burned Regulus' lungs as he fought against the wind, trying to put as much space between him and the dangerous structure as he could. Everywhere others were scattering, some of them badly wounded. He glanced over his shoulder as he came to a rest in the street and immediately did a double-take. He had lost Marlene in the confusion but now he could spot several panicked Muggles amid the mass of witches and wizards. He hadn't thought about the amount of noise they were making, not to mention the storm. Even the heaviest sleeper would have noticed his house being torn apart.
Surveying the damage, Regulus raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Somehow the only building affected was the one he just escaped from; the surrounding residences were exactly the same as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Regulus watched with slight amusement as a handful of the Order rushed toward the bewildered Muggles. He wasn't at all surprised when seven Death Eaters pursued, clearly delighted by the sight of the new magic-less targets. The five Order members held their wands up defensively, but even their jeering masked attackers knew they wouldn't be able to protect the helpless Muggles for long.
Unfortunately for the Death Eaters, they never got the chance to add another set of victims to their list, for at that moment a large number of uniformed figures appeared out of thin air. Their brightly colored green robes and business-like demeanor set them apart from the shrewdness and black attire of Lord Voldemort's followers.
Lucius Malfoy stepped in beside Regulus. He shouted a warning to the rest of their companions.
"It's the Ministry!"
----------------------------
"Can't you see that it's over?" asked Voldemort. "The Order is finished!"
"On the contrary," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "It seems the tide has turned."
The scene that met Voldemort as he turned around was not a pleasant one. The wave of Aurors was rapidly advancing, driving the remainder of the Death Eaters back. To his extreme discontent, some of his more cowardly disciples were Disapparating, out right disobeying his commands.
"No! I did not bid you leave!" With a cry of frustration, Voldemort rounded on Dumbledore for a final time. "This ends, now!" From the tip of his wand burst a purple, web-like substance that moved through the air in a zigzagging pattern. Its spidery threads branched outward, creepy steadily toward Dumbledore.
Suddenly, an Auror, having been hit by a disarming jinx, tumbled through the surrounding throng. The witch looked up to discover she had landed in the middle of the duel, turned a deathly shade of white, and stumbled to her feet, desperately scanning the ground for her dropped wand. Voldemort redirected his own wand at the terrified Ministry employee, who was blocking his ability to get a clear shot at his foe.
However, the split-second distraction was all Dumbledore needed. The veil of light that he materialized was enough to push the Dark magic backward, reversing its course. Before Voldemort knew what had happened, he found himself snared in the coils of his own spell, his wand pinned uselessly by his side. Struggling against the thick binds, he managed to loosen his arm and cast a severing charm. It became clear as the pieces fell to the dirt that, no matter how fast his escape, Voldemort had not emerged unscathed. There was a noticeable waver and strain in his stance, and his breathing had become more rapid.
"Potentia Detrimentum," Dumbledore said pensively, "a very resourceful curse; even more intriguing is its curious energy-consuming effect."
"How—?" Voldemort glared at him with deep animosity. "—the curse cannot be blocked!"
"The explanation is simple; as I stated previously, love or rather, light, is not so easily conquered. You may believe darkness is omnipotent, but keep in mind that even in the darkest of times there is the smallest ray of light."
It was an impressive sight as Dumbledore stood triumphantly beneath the bolts of lightening that flashed overhead, and he seemed to be encompassed by an aura of power and authority. There was a hint of fear in Voldemort's eyes as he stared at his former Transfiguration professor, but Dumbledore did not show any intention of surrendering.
There was no doubt in either of their minds that the battle was over. Seriously weakened by the dark spell, Voldemort was unable to continue the duel and, as the Ministry closed in, he was forced the Disapparate.
With their master gone, the Death Eaters cowered as Dumbledore's stern gaze fell upon them. Regulus looked around; they were surrounded in every direction, Dumbledore and the Order on one side, and the Aurors stationed on the other.
"Take them!" a Ministry wizard yelled, and suddenly, a hundred hexes soared their way. Regulus ducked, not able to fire back out of the fear of hitting the other Death Eaters. There were screams of pain and anger, and several people fell. Regulus was pushed and bumped in the pandemonium, and he felt his accomplices disappear in retreat. He was about to follow them when something made him hesitate.
"Drop your wand!" Bartemius Crouch, Sr., Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, growled at one of the last Death Eaters. Regulus realized with horror that the cloaked figure he was confronting was none other than Barty Crouch, Jr. The only thing keeping Mr. Crouch unaware that his own son had joined the Dark Lord was a single, silver mask.
"Lower you wand!" Crouch repeated, more forcefully this time. Barty prepared to cast a Cruciatus Curse, but then two more Aurors appeared at his sides, their wands pointed at his throat. "Grab him," his father nodded to the witch on the right and then addressed the wizard at his left. "And you—remove his mask before you make the arrest."
"No!" Regulus leapt forward. "Stupefy!"
The surprised wizard was struck by the spell and collapsed, temporarily stunned. As Crouch turned furiously to see who the intruder was, Barty quickly defeated the other Auror, and together, he and Regulus Disapparated.
------------------------------
A Death Eater drew forward, only to have her offer declined.
"I do not require assistance," Voldemort answered, agitated. The witch hastily stepped away and resumed her spot in the dark room. Gripping the edge of the high-backed armchair at the head if the group for support, Voldemort watched the congregation of people. The raid had backfired spectacularly; while they inflicted a good number of casualties on the Order, many of the Death Eaters had been killed or captured.
"What I want," said Voldemort, his voice dangerously low, "is to know why several of you saw it fit to dismiss yourselves without my consent."
No one dared to meet his eyes. Then, after a brief silence, Dolohov responded.
"I—we meant no disrespect, of course, my Lord…it's just"—he let out a nervous laugh—"we can't really serve you if we are sent to Azkaban; that is what we were trying to avoid," he finished weakly.
Voldemort raised his wand and, though his power was temporarily affected, it was enough to make the man before him gasp in pain and drop to his knees.
"I am not amused," hissed Voldemort. "It appears you all need a reminder of how serious I view perfidy."
Regulus and the others were forced to watch as he used the Cruciatus Curse upon the Death Eaters who had deserted the battle.
"Let this serve as an example," Voldemort continued after he lowered his wand. "When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed without question." Next, he addressed Regulus.
"I wish to speak with you alone, Regulus—the rest of you may go."
Regulus waited as the others left, and he swallowed nervously as he approached the foot of the chair.
"Do you know where most traitorous actions begin?" Voldemort was regarding him carefully. Regulus remained quiet, staring at a spot on the floor. "They are normally preceded by doubts of the mind…"
So he knows, Regulus thought, feeling a sick sensation in his stomach. Now his suspicions were confirmed: the Dark Lord was indeed a Legilimens.
"Please, my Lord," Regulus burst out abruptly, eyeing the tip of Voldemort's wand. He had been subjected to the torture of the Cruciatus Curse before and wasn't in a hurry to relive that experience. He knew the only reason his master hadn't cast it on him yet was because Voldemort was fighting to conserve the small amount of strength he still possessed. "I only had those uncertain thoughts because Dumbledore is my Headmaster—but it won't happen again—I'll prove my loyalty, I'll do anything you require of me."
His statement was a true one, and he knew that his master would be able to see his determination.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes, considering him for a moment, trying to detect any traces of dishonesty.
"Very well," he answered finally. "You are treading on a very thin wire of my patience; I rarely give second chances, as you are well aware, and this will be the only one you receive. The next time you displease me, Regulus, you can rest assured that my power will not be impaired, and you shall obtain no reprieve—I will not warn you again."