DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/n: All I can say is that this chapter is a lot longer then I originally intended it to be.

Chapter Eleven - Greetings from the Underworld

Harry opened his eyes and inhaled softly, his sensitive ears picking up the light tread of shod feet upon the stone floor. His muscles tensed in preparation for attack and the beat of his heart increased to a driving thump. He stared blankly at the canopy of his four-poster, nose carefully dissecting the scent of the individual creeping through the darkened dorm room. At the familiar smell of brimstone and sulphur, he relaxed, lazily stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely.

"Harry?" Sirius whispered loudly as he glided down the path between the two rows of beds. His gaze darted from four-poster to four-poster, glowing eyes narrowed against the dark. A loud snuffle had him stilling and holding his breath, waiting for the dozing wizard to resettle before continuing his search. He breathed an angered curse and took another creeping step forward, freezing when the emerald curtains surrounding the last bed were shoved aside. The sight of a slightly rumpled Harry had him sighing in relief and rolling his eyes. "There you are-"

Harry hissed loudly, raising a finger and pressing it to his pursed lips in warning. Eyes slitting, he rolled out of bed and set his feet on the cold floor, gritting his teeth upon contact with the icy stone. Snatching up the cloak he'd been using as a light blanket, he prowled past Sirius and out into the dark corridor that led to the Common Room. He swung the wrinkled cloak around his shoulders and fastened the clasp, leading the way down the narrow hall. "Report," he growled softly, striding toward the glowing embers in the hearth.

"I saw him, Harry. I actually saw Voldemort. The Voldemort." The minor demon said, a trace of excitement colouring his words. A tremble racked his thin frame and he quickly trailed Harry toward the fireplace, chaffing his hands together as he went. Without thought, he crowded the Retriever, forcing him further away from the reddened coals. "You should have been there! Did you know he doesn't have a nose? I didn't know that. How weird is that? I mean, there are some ugly demons out there but he definitely-"

"Focus, Sirius." Harry growled, nudging the taller demon away from the hearth. He knelt upon the cold stones before the dying embers and hastily tossed several logs atop the coals, watching in satisfaction as a small blaze crackled to life. His eyes drifted closed at the immediate wave of warmth, his hands lifting toward the orange flames.

Heaving a delighted sigh, Sirius held his palms out toward the growing fire, a contented smile curving his lips. "Right, he was waiting for Severus. Apparently, he plans on attacking Hogsmeade tomorrow while the Hogwarts students are there. Strange, isn't it? That a High Court demon of his caliber would spend so much time chasing after a bunch of children. It actually seems quite unhealthy now that I think about it. Maybe Hades should give him more responsibilities at home. You know-"

"Silence," Harry hissed between his teeth. He glared into the snapping flames before him, his mind reeling with the possibilities. Voldemort was coming to town. In just a few hours, the High Court demon would waltz into Hogsmeade completely unprepared for the appearance of a Retriever. The smile that stretched across his face was decidedly malicious; the mere thought of the meeting ahead causing his eyes to glow with a feral light. Only one individual stood between him and his target. One wizard, to be exact, and he could easily be handled. At the thought, his lips firmed and his eyes narrowed. "Where is Severus Snape now?"

"Still with Voldemort," Sirius responded, turning around so his back was toward the fire. "Voldemort believes he has a traitor among his followers. He seeks to ascertain whether the betrayer is in the group he called."

Harry nodded his head slowly. As long as Severus Snape was kept busy, he would have no time to alert Dumbledore to the approaching disaster. Rising fluidly, he began to glide back and forth in front of the fire, his bare feet making no noise on the floor. It was in his best interest to see that the gray-bearded mortal was kept unaware of the situation. After all, if Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore found out, he'd stop the students' trip into Hogsmeade. This, in turn, would alert Voldemort to the fact that his plans had been leaked . . . which would force him to postpone his trip into Hogsmeade. Bobbing his head, he spun to face Sirius, placing his hands on his hips. "You're to return to Voldemort's headquarters and make sure that Severus Snape does not contact Albus Dumbledore. When you arrive in Hogsmeade, you may contact me."

"You aren't going to warn them, are you?" Sirius asked softly, his voice filled with concern. Shuffling his feet nervously, he raised his eyes and peered at the raven-haired demon. "I don't understand. How can you risk the lives of the mortals you've befriended? You put them all in danger, even your little blond, by not telling the old wizard."

"I'm a Retriever, Sirius, not a Protector. It's my job to hunt down wayward demons and return them to Hell. That's what I was bred to do, remember?" Harry muttered blithely. Rolling his shoulders slowly, he shot a quick look at the clock hanging above the mantle and frowned. It was almost two o'clock. Most of the students probably wouldn't be up before nine or ten, which meant they wouldn't start heading into Hogsmeade until eleven or twelve in the afternoon. This gave him a good six hours to patrol and scout the little village before the place was overrun with screaming witches and wizards. Giving a decisive nod of his head, he swung around and began to head back to the sixth year boys' dorm, halting when he realized Sirius was still standing in front of the fire. "Why are you still here?"

"It just doesn't seem right, Harry." Sirius mumbled at the toes of his boots. Sighing, he lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the tension building within his skull. "You're supposed to protect the mortal plane from irreparable damage. If you allow Voldemort to kill any of these students than damage has been incurred. Once they die, you can't bring them back. They don't get a second chance, Harry."

"Do you really think the deaths of a handful of children will affect this plane's existence?" Harry mused, widening his eyes as he peered at his companion. He remained perfectly still as he waited for the minor demon to respond, nostrils flaring as he examined Sirius's scent for traces of deceit. It would have been easy for Voldemort to take control of the lesser demon, planting thoughts and urges in his small mind. Confusion filled him when he found nothing abnormal about the demon's scent.

Narrowing his eyes, Sirius lifted his chin in defiance. "Yes, I do. I've lived on this plane, Harry, don't ever forget that." Drawing a deep breath, he took several steps toward the Retriever, stilling when the younger male dropped his hand to lazily play with the charms dangling from his wrist. "Every life matters. And every death affects numerous people. You're deluding yourself if you think no damage will come from allowing several mortals to be killed."

"It's a good thing I don't usually ask for your opinion," Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes. Giving a shake of his head, he swung around and headed toward the doorway that led to the dorm rooms. "Go, Sirius, do your job. As I'm going to do mine."

"And what are you going to do?" The minor demon called at the back of the retreating Retriever. When Harry stopped abruptly and swung around with a soft snarl, he realized what he'd done. Skittering backwards, Sirius forced an apologetic smile and shrugged his shoulders, chuckling anxiously.

"Why, I'm going to sharpen my sword," Harry purred. Flashing his teeth at the gray-haired demon in parody of a polite smile, he turned and glided into the darkened corridor, moving soundlessly through the shadows.

XxXxX

"What happened to your finger?"

Harry jumped at the question, lips curling in an unhappy growl even as his eyes popped open. He glared up at the blond hovering over him, hands tightening slowly around the edge of the blanket draped across his lap. "I cut it," he muttered finally, lifting his uninjured hand to rub at his eyes. Yawning widely, he rolled his head to the side and glanced at the clock perched upon Draco's night table. His jaw snapped closed with a click, emerald orbs widening at the time. Rolling his head back into the middle of his pillow, he frowned up at the Slytherin. "It's a quarter after seven, why are you up?"

"It's Saturday. Saturday is my favourite day. Do you know why Saturday is my favourite day, Harry?" Draco asked, tearing the blanket from Harry's hands and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Ignoring the irritated snarl that slid from the raven-haired male's lips, the blond moved to the end of his bed and threw open the lid of his trunk. He rifled through the trunk's contents, heedless of the other wizard's muted curses and protests. Seconds later he pulled a pair of dark trousers from the tangled knot of clothes and heaved them at Harry's head. "Because I get to go shopping in Hogsmeade. Now, get up." With a brisk clap of his hands, he whirled around and strode from the dorm room.

Groaning softly, Harry pulled the trousers off his face and sat up. He'd had exactly thirteen minutes and fifty-three seconds of down time. On the other hand, he had scouted Hogsmeade and made an attempt at sharpening his sword. Said attempt hadn't gone as smoothly as one would've hoped, but that's what one got when their favourite weapon was crafted of a metal that was poisonous to them. Frowning, he lifted his hand and peered at the small gash on the index finger of his left hand. The wound was already swollen and inflamed, appearing three times as large as it really was. He lifted the finger and slid it into his mouth, grimacing at the lingering taste of iron. "I hate shopping."

"I don't hear you getting dressed!"

Draco's voice carried up the corridor and ricocheted around the long chamber, making Harry wince and glare in the direction of the door. Drawing back his lips, he hissed loudly before swinging his feet to the floor and standing. He pulled the pants on and jammed his feet into the pair of boots he'd been wearing earlier, nearly yanking his feet from them when he realized they were still soaked from his foray into Hogsmeade. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his warmest cloak from the trunk at the end of the bed and slogged from the room. "I don't see why I couldn't have slept in a little longer," he mumbled as he entered the Common Room, earning himself disgusted looks from the crowd of Slytherins gathered around the chamber.

"We're having breakfast at the Three Broomsticks," Draco stated, rising from his chair before the fireplace. He gave Harry a long disapproving look before shaking his head and lifting his mittens from the table next to the chair he'd been lounging in.

Rising gracefully from the adjacent chair, Blaise set his Charms text on the velvet cushion. "It's a tradition," he explained to Harry, smoothing out the folds of his winter cloak. His eyes slid up Harry's legs, halting at the narrow expanse of skin visible between the folds of his wrinkled cloak. "Perhaps you should put a shirt on before we leave."

Glancing down at his bare chest, Harry sighed and trudged back to his dorm. He was almost to his bed when the door slammed closed, the sound swinging him around. A grin twisted his features as he stared at the wizard leaning arrogantly against the door, a glowing wand clutched in his hand. Tipping his head, the dark-haired demon smiled and wiggled his fingers invitingly.

"What did you do with Pansy?" Theodore Nott demanded, leveling his wand at the taller wizard's chest. He strode forward quickly, taking comfort in the fact that Harry hadn't yet drawn his wand. "I know you did something with her. Where is she?" His final question was screamed, the glowing tip of his wand coming to rest on the other Slytherin's sternum.

Calmly watching the wand indent the tanned skin of his chest, Harry smiled. "Have you spoken with our Head of House about your concerns?" He drawled, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet in preparation for flight. Adrenaline swarmed through his veins, increasing the beat of his heart and quickening the air to and from his lungs.

The sudden pounding on the dorm room door startled Theo into spinning around, the tip of his wand now pointing at the bolted portal. Before he had a chance to shift the glowing point back to his original target, a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his throat, fingers tightening dangerously. He dropped his wand, mouth opening on a silent scream. His fingers scrabbled at the hands holding him as he gasped for oxygen, the heels of his boots drumming against his attacker's shins as he was lifted slowly off the ground.

Harry kept his eyes on the top of Theodore's head, lips moving in an inaudible count as he waited for the wizard to pass out. His shouted name had him lifting his orbs and glaring at the door, tensing when the Slytherin in his arms went still. He considered dropping the wizard to the floor but changed his mind. Instead, he tossed him onto his bed and yanked the curtains closed. "I'm coming," he hollered at the door, practically tearing the lid off his trunk in pursuit of a shirt. The first garment that fell into his grasp was the one he tugged on. A quick look in Draco's mirror as he breezed by revealed a large stain and a tiny tear. Shrugging his shoulders, he yanked his winter cloak on and unbolted the door. "You have no patience," he informed the frowning blond standing in the corridor.

"That's because you've used it all," Draco snapped, grabbing Harry by the sleeve. With a frustrated sigh, he dragged the dark-haired Slytherin down the hall, bellowing for Blaise as soon as they hit the Common Room. Casting a glance at the ornate clock, he groaned and hurried the pair toward the entrance portal. "We're going to be late."

They were going to be late, but as far as Harry was concerned, he was going to be early. Very early. Sighing, he fell into step beside the blond, pondering the necessity of traditions. Another twenty minutes of sleep would have done him good, given him a chance to recharge his battery, so to speak. On the other hand, the sooner he caught Voldemort, the sooner he could be back in Hell. And that was a beautiful thought.

XxXxX

It was approximately seventeen minutes after ten when Harry, Draco, and Blaise left The Three Broomsticks. Five minutes after that, the first pained scream tore through the air. Harry's head immediately jerked in the direction of the cry, his entire body tensing as the shrill wail was repeated. Shouts of terror filled the streets of Hogsmeade. Students ran in fear, mindlessly seeking refuge in the small shops lining the street. A burst of magic lit the sky, taking on the form of an entwined snake and skull. Glaring up at the image hovering over the small town, Harry chuckled. Voldemort had arrived.

"We've got to get back to Hogwarts!" Draco shouted, pale eyes flashing as he grabbed at Harry's hand. Blaise nodded encouragingly from the blond's other side, his wand held aloft as his gaze darted back and forth.

"We won't make it in time," Harry said calmly, detaching his hand from the blond's. "We'll have to take shelter in one of the stores." Giving neither wizard time to think or react to his comment, he herded them into the nearest shop. And then, he deliberately allowed himself to be swept down the street by a crowd of panicked witches. He heard Draco scream his name but ignored the desperate plea for his return. Instead, he ducked into the first alley the terrified group passed.

Harry prowled down the narrow alley, his chin lifted slightly as inhaled. Magic crackled angrily ahead of him; flashes of red and blue zipping past the alley's mouth. Brimstone and sulphur stung his nostrils, the smell luring him onward. His eyes narrowed as he stepped from the alley, head turning to the left in an attempt to recapture the fading scent. A blur of red in his peripheral vision had him diving forward and slamming into ground. He snarled as he tumbled over the snow, heightened senses searching for the source of his current dilemma. When he finally slid to a stop, he rolled onto his stomach and glared at the only other person on the street A wizard garbed in long black robes stood menacingly in the middle of the path, a glowing wand held tightly in a gloved hand.

Pushing himself smoothly to his feet, the Retriever glanced down at his ruined robes and sighed. "You've gotten me dirty," he stated, lifting his eyes to the silent figure watching him. In an explosion of black, he charged the masked wizard, knocking the wand from his hand with an effortless flick of his wrist. The yelp of fear the dark wizard loosed made Harry chuckle even as bodily tossed the man several feet. A grin of pure pleasure crossed his face as the Death Eater crashed into the wall of a store and slid to rest against the foundation. He glided slowly after the wizard, giving him time to regain his feet.

"Now, where is Voldemort?" Harry demanded, brushing at his robes as he strode forward. His nostrils flared at the smell of demon magic wafting off the man's clothes, the scent making him lick his lips and glide eagerly closer.

The Death Eater rose shakily and lifted a hand to readjust his mask, ignoring the blood seeping through the cloth covering his face. Leveling a finger at Harry, he cried, "death to all half-blood scum!"

Frowning, Harry sprang forward and tangled his fingers in the wizard's mask, tearing it off in a fit of fury. "Silly wizard, I'm not even mortal." The white fabric he'd ripped from the man's face floated to the ground, landing unceremoniously in a puddle of slush as he stared into a familiar pair of steely orbs. "Draco?" He asked in confusion. Before he was given a chance to recover, a burst of green exploded before his eyes, staggering him. Hissing in pain, he collapsed to his knees, swiping angrily at his orbs. When he finally managed to pry one lid up, he found himself staring into the vial dangling from his silver wristband. As he gazed at the liquid, it rolled and swirled, shifting from a brilliant emerald to the darkest of blacks. His entire body tensed, heart leaping into his throat as snow crunched softly behind him.

"Why, if it isn't Harry Potter, Hades favourite lapdog."

Rising smoothly, Harry whirled around and bowed at the waist, giving the ancient demon his due. He straightened without waiting for permission, sliding back several steps and halting on the balls of his feet. "I bring tidings from the underworld, Lord Voldemort, and an order of execution." A quick glance up and down the abandoned street showed that the Death Eater with Draco's eyes had vanished.

"An order of execution?" Voldemort repeated, chin tipping upward as he frowned at the sky. With a shake of his head, he dropped his gaze to Harry, brow drawn in thought. His ruby eyes narrowed as he glared at Harry, fingers rising to rest on his chin. "Whose?"

Lips curving in a devilish smile, the Retriever reached for his sword, wiggling his fingers on the hilt as it dropped into his palm. Hefting the blade, he glanced past the length of metal, watching as realization flickered into Voldemort's red eyes. "Why, yours of course."

"Hah," Voldemort scoffed, "Hades wouldn't sacrifice one of his own. I'm the second most powerful demon in Hell. He needs me." Tipping his head, he glared at Harry; carefully assessing the way the lesser demon was moving impatiently back and forth. He slid one of his hands into the pocket of his dark robe, fingers sifting through its contents.

"I have my orders and I shall see them carried out with great pleasure," Harry retorted. Slowly he began to circle the High Court demon, fingers caressing the hilt of his iron sword as he moved. One strike was all he needed. One moment of inattention in which he could slide his blade through the powerful demon's heart. His surroundings seemed to dim as he stalked his prey, his entire being becoming focused on Voldemort. The even tempo of his heart leapt to follow the snake-faced demon's. Each exhalation of his breath perfectly matching Voldemort's.

"Do you recognize this book, Retriever?" The High Court demon asked, lifting a thick tome from his pocket. A condescending smile slid over his features at the lesser demon's angered growl. "I'll assume you do," he purred. Giving a shake of his head, Voldemort began to flip the delicate pages of the grimoire.

Eyeing the book resting firmly in the ancient demon's hands, Harry stilled. The tip of his sword drooped slowly until it was pointed harmlessly at the ground. "Where did you get that?" His voice was a no more than a soft whisper; a rush of air escaping his mouth. Fear tightened his chest. Albus Dumbledore might not have stood a chance at banishing him, but Tom Marvolo Riddle was perfectly capable of accomplishing the feat.

"I stumbled upon it in my travels," Voldemort muttered, frowning as he flipped several pages. The High Court demon absently chewed on his bottom lip, eyes dancing over the various spells and incantations that were used to control his kin. His expression brightened suddenly and he shifted the grimoire to one hand, drawing his wand with the other. "After all, a good grimoire is so very hard to find." Shooting the Retriever a triumphant grin, he cleared his throat and began to read.

Goose bumps raced across Harry's body at the first trickle of Latin, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of his sword. "Apparently not," he breathed, thinking of the second grimoire tucked away inside Dumbledore's study. Demon magic caused the air to crackle, small flickers of silver and white and black that danced eerily overhead. Drawing a deep breath, he lifted his sword and stepped forward. He couldn't allow Voldemort to finish the incantation. With that thought in mind, he sprang. His battle cry rang through the street, the roar heralding the descent of his blade.

A lazy flick of Voldemort's wand sent him hurtling backwards, arms and legs churning futilely. He crashed through a storefront window, snarling in pain as a stray piece of glass buried itself in his back. When he came to a halt amidst a pile of glass and books, he lay still, staring blindly at the ceiling. "I hate High Court demons." Rumbling unhappily, he climbed to his feet and stormed toward the gaping hole in the front of the shop, stopping only to lift his sword from the rubble.

Voldemort stood confidently in the middle of the road, his voice menacing as he recited a traditional banishing curse. He paused only to watch Harry climb out of the shop, arching a nonexistent eyebrow as the Retriever swore angrily. When the dark-haired demon raised glowing emerald eyes to glare at him, he quickened his incantation.

"You forget yourself. Upon the mortal plane, I reign supreme." Hefting his sword into a comfortable position, Harry prowled forward. He glided silently toward Voldemort like a stalking wolf, his chin held low and his narrowed eyes locked on the High Court demon. This time, when Voldemort waved his wand, Harry responded in kind. A flick of his wrist sent energy streaming outwards; the burst of magic clashing with the ancient demon's before swallowing it. Giving a laugh that would seem crazed to many, he leapt the short distance between them and raised his sword. The iron blade sang sweetly in his ears, the metal flashing as it fell.

Before the sword could slide into his chest, Voldemort swung the grimoire. The book caught Harry in the side of the face, ruining his aim but not preventing him from pushing the blade home. Shrieking in outrage, the High Court demon dropped the heavy tome, his hands falling to rest atop Harry's on the hilt of the weapon. Blood pulsed over their entwined fingers before trickling to the earth where it made a puddle in the snow. Brow arching, Voldemort lifted his gaze from his hands and smiled. "Retriever, you missed my heart."

Brow furrowing, Harry lowered his eyes to their hands. His palms tingled uncomfortably, the sensation growing stronger as Voldemort began to chuckle. Lips curling, he struggled to free himself, and failed. Pure, unrestrained power flowed through his palms, burning its way up his arms. His eyes flew wide as his mouth opened on a scream of pain. In a burst of raw demon magic, he was thrown across the road.

Shouts and the cry of 'Auror' drew Voldemort's attention from the prone Retriever. Shooting an annoyed glance at the sword he'd been spitted with, he heaved a frustrated sigh and then apparated away, taking the prized weapon with him.

XxXxX

Harry awoke to his screeched name, the yell making him writhe in pain and clutch at his pounding head. The hunk of glass embedded in his back tore relentless at his flesh. The palms of his hands burned; undoubtedly from the pulse of dark magic Voldemort had sent through the sword. He slid one eye open, blinking as the sun's rays pierced the watering orb.

Suddenly, panicked hands were on his shoulders and his name was whispered loudly. Rolling his head, he squinted up at the person and snarled. He swung wildly, the usually effortless movement seeming to sap all his strength. Curling his lips, he growled at the golden individual hovering over him. No angel would drag him to Heaven as long as he drew breath. He craved the fires of Hell.

"Harry? Harry, it's Draco." The hovering figure shifted, placing its face directly above Harry's. A relieved groan escaped the Retriever as he stared into orbs the colour of ice. Remembering the Death Eater with identical eyes, he sniffed, examining the wizard's scent before relaxing.

"I'm going to call for a mediwitch, Harry." Draco said, ignoring the hitch in his voice. He attempted to push himself to his feet only to find Harry's fingers clutching the cloth of his cloak. "I'll only be gone for a minute," the blond soothed, patting the clutching hand as he once again placed his face over the dark-haired wizard's.

The thought of another mortal learning his secrets had Harry stiffening. Orbs narrowing, he peered up at the blond, his mind racing. There was only one thing he could. Drawing a deep breath, he flexed his aura and loosened his hold on his magic. "You owe me," he rasped. He lifted a blood-covered hand and curled his fingers around the wizard's pointed chin, drawing him slowly downward.

A/n: Oops, imagine ending a chapter like that! Anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review.

thrnbrooke – Severus would have relayed the info but he was prevented from doing so.
mangacat201 – Harry cashes in next chapter.
TorringMay – I always try and fit more H/D in but its actually quite hard. The way this plot is going . . .
blkmagicklily - you've given me an idea, thank-you.
pleiadeswolfe – and next chapter, well, lets just say its very busy, and contains a plot twist no one saw coming.