Chapter 16: First Encounter
"Dolores Jane Umbridge. Half-blood, born to janitorial wizard of the Ministry of Magic, Orford Umbridge, and Muggle mother, Ellen Crackwell; not to mention a Squib brother. Currently Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts; are, as of this day stripped of your positions and wand for investigation." Toshiro fought the urge to not smirk as Malfoy read the report with a sneer; Potter and his party free as they quickly recited their need to get to the Ministry of Magic. Snape stood by the door of the pink office, with a glaring and red Umbridge seated across the captain, flanked by Malfoy standing on one side with Crabbe and Goyle on the other after the captain had assured the D.A. that he would take care of things here.
"How dare you!" The former Headmistress snarled, unable to break away from the Kido and defenseless as her wand was confiscated and currently Crabbe's plaything. "I am the direct secretary under Cornelius Fudge, the Minister, himself! You cannot do this —!"
"Actually, as the Ambassador from the Eastern Wizarding World, I can." Toshiro cut in, hands folded over his lap neatly. "My position in power places me above you by all rights and laws, Umbridge. No longer are you, the direct subordinate of Cornelius Fudge or Headmistress of Hogwarts, all for several reasons."
Umbridge's confusion along everyone else's was enough to let the smirk slide.
"Allow me to explain." And with a snap of his fingers, a set of papers appeared before the captain, contrasting with the dark wood of the desk between them. "For sending Dementors to a Muggle neighborhood to silence a sixteen-year-old underaged wizard, forsaking instruction for the students of Hogwarts, disrespecting the privacy of students and staff alike, abusing seat of power under the guise of a government official, medieval torture of students through the use of Blood Quills and Veritaserum, and lastly; offending foreign relations with the Eastern Wizarding World; the last thing you need is for me to add is indecency. Although, it is implied rather well." The captain smiled sweetly at the flabbergast of the eyesore's face, everyone present but herself displaying a hint of smug. "Did I miss anything?"
He received something of a choked croak before his smile grew cold. "Then enlighten me and the other Slytherins before you; Umbridge. Why, the bloody hell upon the death of your political career, should I even bother allowing you to explain?"
"By the law of the Ministry—!"
"I believe you and I have already established that the British law holds no authorization over me." Toshiro growled, his impatience displayed in a thin scowl as he snapped off his sealing bracelet, allowing the metal to clang on the tile floors, all eyes widening at the display of strength. "Do not test me, Umbridge. You will lose."
How dare this… child… Umbridge thought darkly, as her eyes flickered to her wand. If only… If only she had her wand… She could…
In that convenient moment, Crabbe had twirled the wand that it was pointing to the ice captain, who regarded her with cool eyes. How she hated those eyes, they were far too intelligent and cold for her likening; too hardened and too careful for her to manipulate. A independent variable that had no weaknesses. No longer.
Crucio. Umbridge commanded of her wand, as a beam of ruby shot out of the wand, hitting the captain in full force; the captain lurching forward as it felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. The sensation was not, in particular, a painful one; but merely uncomfortable, like someone had decided to prod his Soul Chain and reiatsu with annoying pinpricks. But for the sake of appearances, the captain forced himself to grit his teeth and glare at Umbridge with an icier than usual glare, his stature faltered as Snape ordered Crabbe to drop the wand.
"Stupefy!" Malfoy growled as the curse was cut off, Toshiro allowing his body to relax; Umbridge stunned as she glared.
"I believe you have just reserved your cell in Azkaban." Goyle noted thoughtfully as Toshiro resisted the urge to groan but instead, flicked out his own wand.
"Not without a few improvements, Goyle." Toshiro added frostily as he spoke, his dark glare never leaving Umbridge. "Professor Snape, if you could please escort Draco, Crabbe and Goyle out for a moment. I must have this conversation with our former Headmistress in private."
Snape rose a brow. "Under the sworn oath that neither of you will leave the grounds dead from either's hand."
Toshiro nodded, eyes still not moving as Snape sighed, before gesturing the other boys to leave with him. Alone, the captain Transfigured Hyorinmaru into his blade form, sending a glance to Umbridge's widened look before shrugging. Strapping the blade to his back, the captain unsheathed the blade and held it at her neck, the steel glinting as if desiring her blood. Silent due to the wordless spell of Silencio, Umbridge could only stare.
"Professor Snape had requested both of us leave with our hearts beating. But I must confess that I cannot keep my oath." The captain resisted the urge to smile at the fear in Umbridge's face, a small smirk instead. "Don't misunderstand my words. I, most certainly, don't mean you."
Umbridge appeared confused.
"I am already dead."
She stiffened so quickly that it may have been mistaken for a heart attack. "And what's further amusing, is that now, Dolores Jane Umbridge, do you have any idea who you have offended when I speak for the Eastern Wizarding World?"
The captain's smirk disappeared, lips mouthing a False Memory Charm. "Or should I say the Netherworld?"
The Department of Mysteries was cold, dark, and in Ron's exquisite opinion; downright eerie. So, with only the Lumos of their wands to guide them; the leaders / de facto members of the D.A. were literally wandering in the dark, trying to find… what the hell were they looking for again?
Oh, right. It was that.
A bloody marble that Ron swore that if he threw it into the obsidian at his feet, it would save them a heck of trouble. But no. His best friend's green eyes was transfixed upon the bloody thing and looked at him with such desperation for the well-being of his godfather and answers that no one appeared to give him; that he couldn't. The words of escape and finding Sirius to quickly evict the area died a miserable death with that one look that the Weasley summoned every urge to not not allow his mouth to say something stupid.
"Harry." Hermione's voice screamed in the terse air as everyone turned to the brightest witch of their generation. The girl stared down the main walkway, Ron and Harry now registering the heavy footfalls of what was revealed to be the metallic face of a Death Eater. It walked slowly towards the children, deliberate to intimidate. And to the children's dismay, it was working.
"Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded, all hearing the lace of fear.
"You know," The breathy voice replied, condescending as the Death Eater held out a familiar cane. "You should really learn to tell the difference between dreams…"
And with a wave of his wand, the mask revealed the face of Lucius Malfoy, wisps of ebony dancing over white blonde locks. "…and reality."
"You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see." Harry widened his eyes at the words as he glanced at the prophecy in his hand. Wait, if Voldemort had used Legilimency, then why didn't Hitsugaya or Snape say anything when Harry had explained what happened? Why didn't they reassure him that Sirius was fine? That he was okay?
"Now, hand me the prophecy." Lucius ordered as Harry turned back to the danger before him. No time to mull over this now. My friends and I are in danger. Harry berated himself as he glared at the Death Eater, replying with snark.
"If you do anything to us, I'll break it." Oh, Harry, mate.
A chilling cackle echoed behind the elder Malfoy as she made her appearance. A tall woman with pale skin that rivaled Hitsugaya's; ebony, shining curls trailed down her mid-back as bloody lips pulled to an amused sneer over a strong jaw, long lashes blinking over sadistically mirth filled onyx orbs. A leather corset fit her curves nicely, as the ebony dress appeared vintage and eerily put together, cross-stitching over her arms making her appearance of a rag doll.
"He knows how to play!" Bellatrix laughed, throughly amused as she cooed, twirling her talon-like wand. "Itty. Bitty baby, Potter."
"Bellatrix Lestrange!" Neville identified as the boy fought the urge to shake in a mixture of anger and anguish, failing.
The witch smiled as she spoke sweetly. "Neville Longbottom, is it? How's Mum and Dad?"
"Better." Neville snapped, lifting his wand. "Now that they're about to avenged."
But before the boy could do anything, Harry blocked him with an arm; Bellatrix raising her own in defense with challenging eyes as they were enveloped in a tense stalemate. Breaths were held as Lucius held up his hands in apparent peace offering, wand still in hand. As a precaution, of course.
"Now, now." The blonde wizard breathed. "Let's everybody just calm down, shall we?"
Neville lowered his wand. Bellatrix didn't, until the blonde sent her a look.
"All we want is that prophecy." Lucius smiled cordially.
But Harry was not fooled at the least.
"Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?" Harry demanded, his desperation for information plain. But the Death Eaters — especially Bella — were not concerned in informing the bane of their lord of anything of the sort.
"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix whispered in anger as she blinked as if in shock of such blatant disrespect of her lord before bellowing. "You filthy half-blood! How dare you!"
"It's alright." Lucius spoke calmly. "He's just a curious lad, aren't you?"
In the midst of the conversation, Death Eaters cornered the children as Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna turned to each as Harry listened, attention at his school adversary's father.
"Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made. Which is lucky for you. Really." The blonde man noted as he neared Harry, along with the cornering Death Eaters. "Haven't you always wondered, what was the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord?"
"Why he was unable to kill you when you were just an infant?" He was several meters away.
"Don't you want to know the secret of your scar?" Three. Two meters.
"All the answers are there, Potter; in your hand." He was right in front of him, Bellatrix a step behind. "All you have to do… is give it to me. And I can show you everything."
Harry glanced at the cloudy orb in his hands. "I've waited fourteen years."
Lucius had the audacity to color his face with pity. "I know."
"I guess I can wait a little longer." Harry replied as he glanced back at his friends, pointing his wand at the Death Eater. "Now! Stupefy!"
Bane sent the white-haired boy a look. "We can take her?"
"She's of the Ministry or at least until the paperwork I have sent has been passed. But until then, she is of the Ministry. I had figured that you would like a chat with our Headmistress, she is still the one who has placed restrictions upon your land since her entry to the Ministry, after all."
Two minutes later, Toshiro exited the Forbidden Forest as Umbridge was dragged the opposing direction. Malfoy rose an eyebrow at his friend. "What happened to Umbridge?"
Toshiro blinked innocently. "Why am I responsible for the Headmistress? As far as I am concerned, I was only supposed to ensure that our hearts were beating once we had left the office."
Malfoy's eyes widened as he heard screams of an aged woman and the thunderous gallop of centaurs, turning to his friend to whom he sent a look. Toshiro rolled his eyes and smirked as they walked back to the castle, a chuckling Malfoy beside him.
Toshiro glanced at the Time-Turner, hidden in his sleeve. It was almost time.
Harry turned in every direction to see each of friends at wand point, all of them noting the crumbled pile of stones in the center of the granite mound, their lives in the hands of an individual Death Eater, the most tragic being Neville in the hands of an amused Bellatrix. The prophecy grew cold in his hand, slicked with sweat as he faced a smug Lucius Malfoy.
"Did you actually believe… or were you truly naive enough to think… that children stood a chance against us?"
Hermione whimpered softly as Ron and Neville glared defiantly at their captors, Luna and Ginny silent; but all of them watched as Lucius continued, circling Harry with a condescending air.
"I'll make this simple for you, Potter." The blonde Death Eater held out a hand as his words echoed. "Give me the prophecy now… or watch your friends die."
Harry turned to the lives that were in his hands. Ron's face was red from the chokehold he was held in on his knees, blue eyes wide as blood smeared from minuscule cuts. Hermione was held by the hair, wand at her temple as her eyes held tears that refused to fall out of sheer stubbornness. Luna shifted from her own chokehold, lip busted as blood stained her teeth but eyes bright with defiance. Ginny glared harshly at hers, as she was relatively unscathed other than red scuff marks on her face and the wand at her neck, her eyes displaying her disgust. Lastly, Neville was held by the hair, his neck ready to be sliced wide open, gaze locked on Harry, his request clear.
He couldn't. They were — are his friends.
"Don't give it to him, Harry!" Harry couldn't even register the hush from Bellatrix, he had already decided. He knew that and so did the Malfoy senior.
Harry handed over the orb.
Toshiro appeared over the afternoon light of London in soul form, Hyorinmaru disguised in his ring form, invisible to all after a short incant of a spell. Decked out entirely in black, to his hooded cloak that shrouded his white hair and teal orbs from his combat boots; the captain glared sternly, overlooking the city. Bane was to return Umbridge by nightfall — alive, not unscathed — and Snape had sent word to the Order to assist Potter and the D.A. after he had left the former Headmistress with the captain as Malfoy was holding the fort in Hogwarts with Snape and McGonagall, everything appeared to have the potential to turn out well. But Toshiro's expression remained unchanged. It was silent, detached and solemn.
The sunlight caught the golden chain interwoven in the captain's hand, twirling slowly as Toshiro held it before his eyes, dulled with resignation. Slowly, the golden grains of time trickled down from one bulb to the other, the thin neck allowing passage. Only several tens of the grains remained.
One by one, they fell as the captain watched, unable to do anything else but smile sadly. He was a shinigami. But not even he could delay the inevitable.
Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six…
"Get away from my godson." Thirty-four.
The prophecy shattered as Lucius dove for it in vain. Thirty-one.
"Now, listen to me. I want you to take the others and get out of here."
"What?! No. I'm staying with you."
"You've done beautifully. Now, let me take it from here."
Twenty-one.
Hermione gasped from the bottom of the mound, Ron and the other children by her side, watching the battle take place. Twenty.
Bellatrix cackled gleefully as she wrestled with her younger sister, bloodlust overwhelming her frame. She must kill someone for her lord. Now. Eighteen.
Moody and Shacklebolt countered their respective Death Eaters, shielding themselves from counters as they waved their wands in silence or in Moody's case, grunts. Fifteen.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry knocked aside Lucius' cane, leaving him stunned with wand in hand. Twelve.
"Nice one, James!" Ten.
Lucius' wand flies out of his hands. Seven.
Bellatrix frowns as her brother-in-law, one she actually approved of, was knocked aside. Her cousin. She glanced at Potter. He'll do. Four.
"Avada Kadavra!" One.
From the heavens, the ice captain nodded to his subordinate, shrouded in a cloak similar to his own. It was time.
Sirius Black groaned as the green magic hit him dead on the chest, barely registering the world blacking out on him, the ground under his feet swept from him and him falling towards it with alarming swiftness. Placing a shaky hand to the ground, the former fugitive pulled himself up, standing but disorientated like someone had given him a very well aimed concussion, figuring that perhaps a Stun had hit him instead of his deranged cousin's curse. He would have been dead if he was.
Blinking away the darkness that marred his sight, three figures blurred in and out. One was lying on the floor, unmoving; some a number of yards away as another was hugged from behind by the last. Black knew the sight all too well. Damn. Someone was killed today, the fugitive thought grimly as he ran a hand through his ebony locks. Remus? Moody? Kingsley? Tonks?
Might as well survey to whom, since he would most likely break the news to the others. Walking over, Black nearly fell to the earth once more.
It was him.
His skin was pale, too pale to be alive. Eyes lidded, his body was splayed awkwardly, having fallen over in literal dead weight, head lulled and hands limp against the granite. Lips pursed in a small gasp, his ebony hair danced in the soft light from above; Sirius barely registered much of anything other than the shock that he was dead when a heart-wrenching cry made him wish he had the physical capability to hold his godson once more.
Harry… Oh, Harry… was held against his will to near his body, Remus holding him in an iron grip as much as his godson was struggling. Pain and pure anguish colored his green eyes, there was such horror and grief in those eyes; that he was so similar to James that Black looked away, his eyes filled with tears as he brushed a hand over them sardonically. So, the dead can cry as well.
"Sirius Black?"
The now dead wizard turned to find a young woman standing behind him, mindlessly thinking later on why in the hell he followed her in hindsight, considering no one else saw her. She was dressed in a black set of robes similar to Hitsugaya, only without his white garment but in an ebony cloak that shrouded her face, a red katana at her hip. Her face was indifferent but kind, kneeling beside him to reveal kind brown eyes and a soft brown hair clipped into a bun. "You have to come with me, sir. Your time as the living has come to close and can only move on from here."
Holding out a hand, the woman stood. Black followed numbly, turning back to see his godson look to the corridor leading out of the Department of Mysteries, where his cousin had escaped. Black knew those eyes all too well.
Revenge. Vengeance.
And with a turn, the soul followed the shinigami, tears that threatened to fall, glistening his cheeks. Harry was alone. And he, too like James and Lily had left him. All alone.
Harry could not think straight, pure adrenaline in his blood as he pointed his wand over a cowering Bellatrix, the words on his lips. Breaths short and sharp, Harry ignored the sting of pain from small cuts that littered his hairline and face, numb to everything but the fact that his godfather was dead. The only family he had left was gone. All because of her. Her.
Red threatened to mar the sixteen-year-old's eyes. Soft whimpers echoed in the main lobby of the Ministry, when a whisper resonated. Harry wasn't sure if it was in his head or it was for all to hear. Frankly, he really didn't care.
You've got to mean it, Harry. The voice whispered, sensible and calm. She killed him. She deserves it.
The Death Eater rose an eyebrow as she noted hesitation. The boy was not attacking. Harry's hand twitched, wand unsteady. You know the spell, Harry.
Everyone did. The Death Eater had just exercised on how to use it on his own godfather. With a soft plume of black, a presence appeared behind Harry, Bellatrix grinning. Her lord had arrived. Her mad cackling was back.
"Do it." Voldemort ordered upon a stiff Harry. The Dark Lord was pale white, his form skeletally thin as dark scarlet eyes glared through slits. Bald and free of lips, his face resembled of a skull and snake-like openings for a nose, his thin bony hands gripped a yew wand, disfigured to appear like an incorrectly healed bone as ebony robes covered the rest of his person. Turning to see the person who killed his parents, Harry found himself remembering who was truly whom he was suppose to be pointing his wand at. Following through, Harry allowed the words to bypass his lips; only to have his wand thrown aside by the Dark Lord, who scoffed in disgust. "So weak."
But it was at that moment when in a burst of flames appeared, Dumbledore; eyes dark and twinkled with disappointment as he spoke with a tone of which he was speaking to a disobedient student. "It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way."
"By which time I shall be gone. And you…" Voldemort waved a hand to the floor. "… shall be dead."
Pushing Harry aside out of harm's way and Bellatrix having made her escape via Floo, Dumbledore's wand emitted a ruby light in unison with Voldemort's acidic green, clashing violently with cracks of electricity to each as Harry watched blankly, eyes registering the sight numbly. With a growl, Voldemort sent the stray bolts of lightning towards Harry, who allowed several to destroy the blocks surrounding him, until he finally realized that he was being attacked, curling into himself. When suddenly the cracks stopped, a small shadow in front of him. Looking up, Harry found a familiar form of a Toshiro Hitsugaya, scowling under a hood as he deflected the lightning with his wand.
"Stay down, Potter!" Toshiro ordered, as Harry obeyed.
The ice captain turned back to the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort before cursing, the Dark Lord summoning a serpent of fire from a breath of flame. Towering in several heights of Grawp, the serpent roared in flames, licking in the increased temperature as the captain summoned a shield of ice to protect Harry, shunpoing to Dumbledore, who blinked in surprise at his appearance before nodding.
Batting aside the serpent with a wave of his wand, the Headmaster redirected the flames at the Dark Lord, Toshiro dragging Harry behind him, deciding the boy was more useful beside him. Summoning waters from the lobby fountain, the Headmaster wrapped the Dark Lord into a watery prison, swirling them violently as the flames died away. Shunpoing swiftly, Toshiro appeared in mid-air over the water prison containing the Dark Lord, before stabbing his wand into the water, freezing everything as the very air seemed to condense. Lifting his wand, the captain narrowed his hidden eyes as cracks decorated the sphere of ice. Shunpoing back to Harry, the captain nodded to Dumbledore just when Voldemort emerged from the ice with a bellow of anger.
Sending a blast of black smoke, the Dark Lord sneered at the Headmaster's swift counter, a light blue shield and Toshiro's white one, covering him and Harry, who was held protectively in the scruff of the neck, somewhere along the lines, had recovered his own wand.
With a shout, Voldemort rippled his dark magic, making Harry cower as Dumbledore and Toshiro were pushed back, the captain unable to release his reiatsu in which close proximity to the living. With a shatter, the glass windows of the surrounding offices became shards of jagged peril, as to the Headmaster's horror, directed toward the three of them. Toshiro cursed as he conjured a dome of ice over him and Harry after a moment of disorientation, receiving a number of glass shards latch on his form as Harry remained relatively unscathed. Ignoring the pain, Toshiro watched as Dumbledore reduced the shards into sand with a white shield, passing harmlessly over the two of them. Breaking aside the dome, Toshiro ignored Harry's concerned look, and glared at Voldemort, who's gaze narrowed over the captain before turning to Harry.
And with a swirl of sand, the Dark Lord disappeared.
He is not gone, Master. Sephiroth warned as the captain readied his wand. His presence is still here.
Voldemort is an adept Legilimens. The ice captain realized as he turned back to Harry who had begun to contort, falling to his knees as Dumbledore following Hitsugaya's thoughts as he knelt by the boy. Harry struggled on the sand covered floor as he glared at Dumbledore, eyes a luminous green and shadows curled over the orbs as he spoke, voice rasp and hissing.
"You've lost, old man."
With a cry of pain, Harry contorted further as grunts began to escape; Toshiro studying him carefully as Dumbledore watched in a mixture of sadness and concern, the captain blankly aware of the nearing presence of the rest of the Order and D.A.
"Harry." The Headmaster spoke softly, comforting and warmly concerned.
But Potter was having an internal battle as words from the Dark Lord whispered with laced suffering. So weak. So vulnerable.
Look at me. Voldemort was playing with him.
"Harry, it isn't how you are alike." Dumbledore whispered. "It's how you are not."
More cries and grunted screams echoed as the transfer watched, indifferent.
"Harry?"
Eyes dull and unseeing, the boy appeared to relax a bit before contorting once more, the others arriving to the scene but not daring to near. A light grew his normally green eyes as the shadows faded slightly, as memories assaulted the Boy Who Lived. His friends, his parents, everyone who loved him, Ron, Hermione, Sirius…
Do not make the same mistakes as I have and push others aside. Because in the end, you end up being the weakest one, with no one by your side.
The green eyes met hidden icy teal under the captain's hood, indifferent yet colored with a hint of approval. Confidence swirled in Harry as he mustered every ounce of his magic to one task, to speak. "Y-You're the weak one."
It was his voice!
"…and you'll never know love or friendship." Harry managed to mutter, his face hot on the sand covered tile, cold to the touch. "A-And I feel sorry for you."
And all at once, the pain receded in a jolt of fury as Harry let out another yell, rolling on his back as ebony wisps escaped from his chest, suspending the Dark Lord above the boy who breathed heavily in a frozen miniature cyclone of sand.
"You are a fool, Harry Potter." Voldemort spoke softly, berating. "And you will lose everything."
"Will he or will that be you, Riddle?"
Turning, Voldemort found himself, facing the ice captain, blood trickling down his chin; only a ghost of an amused smirk on his face visible to the Dark Lord as his voice fell to a whisper that only the Dark Lord and the captain could hear. "Death cannot be escaped, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Because Death will be there to claim either your soul, no matter how mangled it becomes or the young boy you curse. In either case, I have no preference. Death will come."
The Dark Lord looked at the transfer with an expression that was rare. Fear.
Hitsugaya laughed breathily. "The Aurors have arrived, half-blood."
And true to the captain's words, with a burst of green flames, armed wizards and witches arrived to the scene; with Fudge at the forefront as Voldemort caught sight of them, before turning back to Hitsugaya who smirked darkly, blood freezing into crimson snowflakes.
"Run as far as you can, Riddle. And await my judgement of your fate."
In a swirl of sand, the Dark Lord disappeared, leaving Fudge to crumple to the floor, a wide look on his face.
"He's back."