The Second Chance
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything of Harry Potter. This story is inspired by Kurinoone's awesome story 'The Darkness Within', which was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's wonderful fic- 'A Shattered Prophesy'.
Deepest apologies for such a long wait, and for not replying to some of your reviews. Here are the list of people I would like to thank: Nyra Lily Potter, Biaa Black Potter, emmybear13, red hair runner, MiraKL, Tommytooth, marina, smiley, Oirasse, Phoenixx Rising, the Darkest wizard, Caroline (such a lovely long review! :) ), Avyncentia, Ash-Bookworm113, v1xky84, coolchickdiv, Lady Gryffin 17, Kurinoone, Jessica, SorrelSilverLeaf (for longest review! Thanks so much!) and Potterholic 1999 (thanks a trillion for taking time to review other chapters as well :) )!
The Potters are not to be harmed by the Dark Lord nor his followers. Hereby, Harry James Potter pledges his eternal allegiance to the services of the Dark Lord, and should he defy any order, to pay the Price with every drop of his magic.
While Harry James Potter is bonded under the Magical Oath, he may not raise his wand or any form of magic against any belonging to the Dark Lord's side, including the Dark Lord himself, and should he fail to comply, he shall pay the Price with every drop of his magic.
If the Dark Lord fails to win the war, or breaks his Oath by harming the Potters:
- Harry James Potters' magic will no longer be binded by the will of the Dark Lord, but his allegiance will still remain pledged to Lord Voldemort.
-The war must end in a treaty.
"I refuse to pay the price of filth," Voldemort countered, his ruby red eyes blazing with unrestrained anger. The pain in Harry's scar flared, but the boy's face remained expressionless. "My oath to you will be as such: the Potters are not to harmed upon my orders."
Harry smiled tightly. "But I'm afraid I don't trust your followers. Besides," he continued, looking up to meet his father's eyes, "they have always paid the price of your failure," he said softly, but his tone was cold. "Why shouldn't you do the same?"
Hours previously; before the battle
"Be prepared to leave for Hogwarts within the quarter. Cygnus, I trust the group stationed at the Ministry is ready?"
"Yes, my Lord," Cygnus spoke, coming forward and bowing low. "The group consists of but 30 members as you ordered. They are already in position; they only await your signal. The scouts have reported that almost all the Ministry forces have left to reinforce Hogwart's defences."
All according to plan.
"Hogwarts will be ours by nightfall," he mused, more to himself than his followers. "Send the signal to Avery five minutes before we depart."
Cygnus bowed low, and recogonising the dismissal, the other Death- Eaters quickly bowed and filed out of the chamber. But as Voldemort watched them leave, his eyes were unconsciously drawn to a certain unfamiliar figure with emerald green eyes. He watched as the boy bowed to him, yet for some indiscernable reason he could not dredge up the any small amount of pleasure from the act of submission.
Usually, Harry was the last to leave the chambers, but today he departed quickly with the crowd, and was soon lost to sight. Lucius, on the other hand, was one of the last few to leave. It seemed that he had too noticed the unusualness of Harry's behaviour- for one, Harry's footsteps were no longer calm and confident strides, they were quick and would even suggest urgency. It went unnoticed by the other Death Eaters of course, but for those who were paying attention, they caught on relatively quickly.
The boy was planning something.
Voldemort felt a surge of dark hatred and anger rise up in him, but forced himself to clear his mind. It was imperative that Harry did not realize his deception had been discovered. Instead, he met Lucius' eyes and conveyed a silent order to his follower- "Follow him."
Lucius nodded and bowed low before disappearing swiftly round the door, in search for Harry.
xXx
Voldemort had guessed that Harry would have used the loophole in their vow to try and break free of his Oath. He knew there was a reason Harry insisted upon the words, the Potters are not to be harmed by the Dark Lord or his followers, or the Oath shall be broken.
Doubtless, Harry had never once forgotten about James Potter and Sirius Black imprisoned in Azkaban a week ago. The boy intended to have the Death- Eaters harm Potter without his permsission, just to break the Oath. And if the oath were to be broken, Harry's magic would no longer be bound to him. All he had left would be Harry's non- magical pledge of eternal allegiance to him, by word only.
And he knew better than to trust oaths not binded by magic. Harry sworn his loyalty to him because his magic flowed through the boy's veins- yet how much could he be trusted? The Dark Prince had turned against his own before, after all.
It was a relatively smart plan, but Voldemort had always been one step ahead.
In the end, he decided to sit back and watch things play out. If the tide turned, he could always twist it back to his favour... after all, Lord Voldemort was still the ultimate puppeteer.
xXx
Lucius rounded the corner to where the rest of the Death- Eaters were gathered, waiting for the moment to depart. Quickly his eyes scanned the crowd, searching frantically, but there was no sign of the boy. Then suddenly, there was a voice behind him, "Over here, Lucius."
He whirled around, fingers curled around his wand, but only met a familiar figure with a stranger's face. Lucius noticably relaxed, looking completely unfazed, but deep inside he began to doubt his conclusion. If Harry had really wanted to break the Oath, he would have left earlier when he had the oppurtunity. Why approach him when Lucius had his back turned?
"Tonight it's all going to be over," was the first thing Lucius thought of saying, and he watched the boy closely for an emotion. He found none, not even the barest tightening of jaws. With a sudden indecipherable clench of his heart, Lucius suddenly realized that Harry was tired from all of this- not just physically exhausted... he looked just as defeated as before. And not for the last time, he wondered what happened to the mischievous, fiery confident boy he had come to care for through the years.
There was a listless nod, but Lucius' heart clenched when he saw the emotionless facade, the emptiness in those emerald eyes, devoid of any emotion or liveliness.
"We will build a better world," Lucius continued to say, as though his words would make Harry feel better. "After today, there will be no more war nor bloodshed. Everyone will return to their original positions. The Wizarding World will continue to flourish and grow after the filth is purged."
"How can you be certain?" Harry asked, and Lucius felt surprised. "How do you know what we're doing is indeed for the 'greater good'?"
"The Mudbloods do not deserve a place among us, we could never co- exist. We were hunted like animals; we in turn regard them as the true barbarians they are. This war will bring peace."
Harry smiled, but it looked bitter. "That's what we all believed in," he said, then he walked away.
Lucius pondered on the answer for a long while until it was ten minutes to their appointed time to leave for battle. He searched for Harry but the boy simply was not there. When questioned severely, others say that Grus Cygnus had left with him as well. It could be no conicidence.
The boy still planned to betray the Dark Lord after all.
xXx
The Death- Eaters had all departed for Hogwarts, but only Lucius left behind.
Dusk was falling fast, twilight basking the sky in a red glow from where Riddle Manor was. Lucius hurried towards the double doors, barely knocking for permission before he strode in, panting heavily.
"I cannot find Harry," he said, breath coming with short gasps, "he has gone. Grus Cygnus is missing. The others have departed as you ordered."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Just as I thought," he hissed, his eyes flashing. "Follow him, Lucius- but remember you must not be seen."
Lucius hurriedly bowed and fled the room. The moment his footsteps left marble onto grass, he turned on the spot, and vanished with a crack! heading for Azkaban.
Azkaban
Harry walked down the dimly lit corridor, Grus Cygnus walking dazedly before him. There was a silent, repetitive drip drip overhead, and the rough hewn rocks were covered with a layer of thick moss and dust. The air had a heavy tang of salt water in it, mixed with years of decay and rot, and huge cobwebs decorated the rocky ceiling.
At last they reached a wooden door, and Harry flung it wide open at a simple gesture. There was a creaking noise and a thud as the door obeyed Harry, but Grus never flinched. They continued down the length of the increasingly darknening path before they found another door. This time, it was locked with many enchantments, but once Harry got past them, there was a flight of steps leading them downwards. Here, there were no lights at all to guide their way forwards.
They did not bring a single lantern either, so they were forced to proceed down the steep staircase in complete darkness. Due to the presence of the Dementors, the lumos charm failed to work in Azkaban.
When Harry reached the end of the staircase, he cast a look around the depressing cells, trying to adjust his vision in the oppressive gloom. He descended the final steps, then stepped into a small pool of dark liquid which he realized was blood. With increasing apprehension, Harry reached out to touch the cold bars of the first cell and stopped short, causing Grus stumbled to a halt behind him.
The prison cell doors were ajar.
James and Sirius had already escaped.
xXx
Lucius hurried along the same corridor in which Harry took, trying to retrace the boy's steps. He kept the Point Me spell going as he past the moulding structures and rocks to lead him to Harry, but at the same time maintaining a perfect Disillusionment spell over himself.
Suddenly, there was a loud clanging noise that reverberated from the depths of the cells to where he stood. Lucius stilled for a moment, recogonising the clanging sound of a cell door slammed open, before he broke into a run. He raced down the length of the corridor, ignoring the suffocating atmosphere, and came upon the same wooden door which was still left ajar from when Harry forced it open.
More noises were coming from below now- there was a long drawn out scream of terror. Heart beating fast, Lucius tore through the second door and stopped above the flight of steps.
Harry was nowhere to be found.
Lucius clutched at his wand tightly, his fists curling around wood as he studied the scene before him; he had arrived too late. It was just like the Dark Lord had anticipated. Grus Cygnus had fallen to his knees and was now stirring slightly; and before his outstretched wand was a small pool of blood..
He could already guess what had happened, but Lucius opted to check one last time. He performed the Finite Incantatem charm on Cygnus' wand, and sure enough- a faint ghostly image of James Potter running away, sprinting fast appeared. A jet of red light, the Reducto was then fired at his retreating back by Cygnus' wand. He tested the blood on the floor as well and was unsurprised to find that it belonged to James Potter.
Harry had decided to break the Oath early... but then, he wasn't the only one.
Chapter 26: The Flaw in the Plan
He whispered, his voice broken and hoarse past use, "Please come back."
It didn't matter how it sounded; it was sincere, it was desperate; it was something he wished and yearned for all his heart, so much he never realized just how much it ached. Until he was there, barely standing, clinging onto his brother for support and hope.
"You don't know what really happened," Damien continued, his ragged whispers tearing through his throat like physical pain, rebellious tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at his brother. "None of us ever hurt you, dad, mum or uncle Sirius. You discovered the truth last year. You didn't hate us."
"I don't," Harry said roughly, and it was to the youngest Potter's surprise that his brother who had always been stoic and strong, sounded just as broken as he was. "I remember, Damy, all of it." Wetness clouded over emerald eyes as he whispered to his younger brother, the words stabbing his heart even as they left him."But I'm sorry, I can never return home."
For a moment, Harry just stood there, silent, eyes intent, watching as hazel eyes stared at him uncomprehending. His jaw was clenched tight, preventing the rebellious tears from trickling down the corners of his eyes, but the pain was nothing he'd ever experienced, the pain was grief.
Damien's energy seemed to leave him completely, all of it- determination that once fuelled his quest to find his elder brother and bring Harry back home to where he truly belonged- failed him, and the youngest Potter collasped with barely a sigh to his knees. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at his younger brother's face, anguished and broken- it would hurt too much to watch. He only held his brother to him, those burnt fingers clinging lightly onto him for support, standing clueless in the battlefield blurred by smoke and death in the night.
"You can't have."
Harry looked down, vaguely surprised that Damien was still awake.
Quickly, he brushed his tears off with his sleeve roughly, and lowered Damien gently onto the ground. "You are gravely injured by the Fiend fire," he said, more of to avoid the topic than anything else. "I'll need to cast a healing spell, it'll hurt quite a bit so don't-"
"Answer me, Harry," Damien's voice hardening with steel, but the broken plea in his voice was still there, painful and unbearable to witness. "Please, I don't understand... if you remember everything, why don't you want to come back with us?"
Hurt, pain and above all, the pounding surge of guilt stole over, and Harry turned away, shouting into the wind as he squeezed his eyes shut, "That's it! You can't understand! And no matter what you say or do, no matter what I want, I won't be coming back. I can't." His voice softened at the last bit, he rubbed his face tiredly before turning to face Damien once more. "I'd say I'm sorry, but it won't do any good."
Damien watched his elder brother, and by the stark paleness of the boy's skin, and the gradually unfocused gaze, Harry guessed that Damien was soon blacking out. His magic was sending the body into sleep so that he could heal.
As hazel eyes glazed over, still Harry held on.
"S' not okay, but I know you want to," Damien murmured, his eyes finding an imaginary brother beside where Harry really stood. "That day when I was hurt and you Stunned me... I knew you were protecting me." He swallowed. "You didn't want Voldemort to know- I am a Secret Keeper."
Harry only stood there, waiting for Damien to succumb into unconsciousness so he could quickly heal the boy and bring him to safety, trying to block out his brother's words as though they meant nothing. It was easier to deal with pain that way.
"Sorry is a useless word," Damien breathed, before frowning slightly. "It's a stupid word."
Bright hazel eyes flickered close, then open, fluttering, as though Damy was fighting to stay conscious.
It was indeed. He couldn't have agreed more.
"Yesterday night w-was a goodbye, wasn't it?"
The words were slurred. Harry's heart clenched.
Yes, Damy - it was.
"C-Can't you stay?"
Hazel eyes held his for the briefest of moments, then fluttered close. The words rang in the still silence for a full minute, before it was blown away by the wind.
xXx
As the Fiend fire rushed towards the Death- Eaters, engulfing them completely, Voldemort immediately threw up a barrier around himself, protecting him against the sea of flames. Though the Dark Lord's shield served its purpose, it effectively prevented Voldemort from casting anymore spells, hence the Order's full fledged attack on the surprised Death- Eaters were successfully unhindered.
The Hogwarts barriers were flashing red, greatly weakened by the Cursed fire which threatened to feed on the school grounds. At Voldemort's distraction, Dumbledore took the opportunity to re- enter the wards and summoned his magic, pouring out every defense he knew of into the wards, strengthening them once more.
"You cannot hold this up forever, Dumbledore," Voldemort said, his eyes glittering with malicious triumph. "You know this as well as I do. The wards are eating into your magic. It is killing you inside."
"It matters not if I die here, Tom- no one would be able to enter Hogwarts. My sacrifice and protection to the school will hold," Dumbledore said, fingers still pushing in relentless tendrils of raw power which folded into the wards.
Voldemort smirked, then banished the flames around him with a wave of his hand. "Amaze me."
A bolt of what appeared to be thunder appeared in his hands, and with a lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort's raw, Dark magic, crashed into the Hogwarts barriers. Behind the windows inside the castle, Ron gasped as a dull ache spasmed across his heart, before fading- at the same time the walls of the school seemed to shake at the impact.
Dumbledore's eyes were closed, his face betraying pain, regardless of how well he had always been able to hide it. Voldemort twirled his wand between his fingers, laughing.
"You are a foolish man, Dumbledore. You have tied in far too much magic into the barriers."
"Nothing I would ever regret," the elder wizard managed to reply with a tight smile.
"Are you quite so certain?" Voldemort smiled. "I'm afraid I must let you in for a little disappointment. All you have done, Dumbledore- is for naught."
Despite what Harry might think, he, Voldemort, still held the upper hand. He had anticipated this move all along.
The Oath between them ought to have severed by now. Voldemort had received Lucius' report previously about his findings in Azkaban and realized that Harry had indeed Imperiused Cygnus to fire a Cutting Hex at Potter. He had never thought Harry would stoop so low; but desperation might have drove him to compromise on his foolish moral grounds.
All those weeks, he'd kept a tight reign on Harry, afraid that Harry would indeed make the move to break the Oath between them, but at the very end, ten minutes before the closure- Harry had managed to get away with it after all. He had even brought himself to believe that Harry would never hurt his biological father for the sake of breaking free. It seemed as though he was wrong. Harry had still managed to free himself of that oath, Voldemort's only rein over the Dark Prince.
But he still had one upper hand; Harry was expecting him to hold back against the Potters; Harry didn't know that Voldemort had realized the Oath was already severed.
He needn't hold back now; he knew that Damien Potter was a Secret Keeper. Why Harry had made him swear to never hurt the Potters, why Harry was always so tense when the boy's name was brought up... all of it made complete sense now.
Across the fields, Voldemort's ruby gaze hardened, and he saw a figure not half a kilometre away double over as if in pain, and smirked. He had found the boy.
"He is mine," Voldemort hissed, and suddenly, as though seized by a string- Damien Potter's bloodied figure was wrenched away, suspended above Harry's grasp, hanging in the air like a limp rag doll.
Voldemort laughed, waving his wand, watching as the body drifted closer, the binds around Damien coiling tighter and tighter. The boy wasn't even struggling; he was completely powerless. And he, Lord Voldemort was the puppeteer.
He drew back his wand, preparing to cast the Imperius curse, but then he tensed, instinctually. There was a distinctly familiar aura standing behind-
The next moment, a green jet of light was thundering straight at him, aimed for his heart.
Voldemort only managed to step out of the way in time; he let the Potter boy fall to the ground, uncaring, and whirled around to meet his opponent.
Ruby red met furious hazel eyes, and surprise flitted over accompanied by a flash of fury as Voldemort saw the familiar figure of a livid James Potter standing before him, wand outstretched.
"Don't you dare touch my son," the eldest Potter snarled, his voice an animalistic growl. "Leave- him- alone."
Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Make me."
xXx
James' clothes looked more like rags than proper attire, and his wrists were covered with welts and dried blood. There were signs of fatigue written all over Potter's face, but mostly his expression was one of righteous anger.
The Dark Lord smiled. This would be easy prey... and Harry would be expecting him to hold back, so most probably the boy wouldn't intervene just yet.
Voldemort stepped neatly out of the way of three spells zooming towards him, cast by James Potter, but still a fourth managed to graze his shoulder. Fury sparked within the Dark Lord, his smirk fading as he narrowed his eyes at the sight of his drawn blood. James Potter was stronger than he gave him credit for.
The eldest Potter was laughing, almost maniacal, a smile on his face as he stood off the Dark Lord. "Not so cocky now, are you?" he breathed. "You're not unbeatable, Voldemort. Your Horcruxes are destroyed."
Voldemort made no reply. They never knew. Instead, he channelled his fury into the spell, a beam of red blasting out of his wand, no longer just a jet of light. James' eyes widened as he moved to dodge, and it looked as though he had managed it for a moment-
...except that something didn't add up. Where was Harry? If the oath was broken, he'd be here, defending his family. .. If the oath was broken, he couldn't have channelled such pain into the boy's mind as he wanted to...
Part of the curse grazed past James shoulder; the Auror stumbled backwards in agony. But when he looked up once more, face pale, shoulder bleeding in earnest, James was smiling, one of triumph and pride.
Double bluff.
Cursing, Voldemort whirled around just time to throw up his strongest shield against the blast of raw magic directed at him. He staggered slightly under the weight, but when the spell finally faded with his shield, Harry was standing before him, wand twirled mockingly between his fingers.
"Thank you my lord," he smirked, "you freed me."
xXx
Harry never intended to break Voldemort's side of the oath. The chances it would actually free him completely as well were slim and he would have never took the risk, much less have Voldemort's followers harm his family. But he guessed that Voldemort would have found that loophole.
So he'd acted predictably, waiting for the last few minutes before making an act, disappearing with Grus Cygnus to Azkaban. Voldemort wasn't able to stop him, but doubtless his father thought he guessed his motives. Harry had charmed another prisoner of Voldemort's, a former Death- Eater that Voldemort never seen fit to rescue from Azkaban- to look like James Potter, and opened the cell door. He had the ex- Death- Eater flee down the corridor, then made Cygnus curse the man. He had then dumped the body of the ex- Death Eater unceremeniously back into the cell in his original form, leaving James' supply of blood conveniently on the ground.
Harry could almost hear footsteps pounding above, doors slamming even as he completed his deception. In a flash he had disappeared into the shadows, the darkness complimenting his Disillusionment charm as he faded into the background.
He almost brushed past Lucius as the man came thundering down the steps. Harry never looked back, he just kept on running. But part of him kept on wondering where his real father was, where James and Sirius were now that hey had escaped on their own; the prison cell doors had been ajar and empty when he arrived.
He decided to take a turn to the West Wing entrance to see, but it turned out that he needn't had to. When he finally rounded the corner, he found them quickly enough, Sirius and James, the former supporting his best friend as they shuffled forwards determinedly, sticking towards the shadows.
When the main exit door was finally flung open, still Harry remained where he was, watching as both his father and godfather limp out painfully into the sunlight, all the while squinting and shielding their eyes. He had never expected to see them again.
"I can't believe the chains idea really worked," James was wheezing, and Harry suddenly noticed the mangled state of both his father and Sirius' wrists. "Your chains really melted."
"I wish I could open my eyes," Sirius sighed instead, not replying his friend. "The view ought to be beautiful. We're close to the sea."
Something in his wistful broken tone made his heart clench, and dreading the worst, Harry crept forwards, out into the sunlight, to stand silently beside them both.
Emotions, like the tide, surged through him, indecisions crashing like waves and fire. It was another of those times, when reality was too hard to bear, when a part of him often would wish his nightmarish life would just snuff out, like a candle. He banished the blurriness lurking around his vision, moved to turn away, but something made him stop in his tracks... he did not want this to be a repeat of history.
What if, just this time round... he wouldn't turn and walk away, throwing his chances out of the window. Perhaps this once, if he made a different choice, he'd make things better. They deserved to know from him after all, not from Voldemort.
So Harry backtracked, banished the Disillusionment charm and the glamour, stepping closer as he did so. Neither man noticed him.
There was silence, but for the roaring of waves for a moment, before he finally brought up the courage.
"Dad," he whispered, loud above the wind.
He saw his father pause in their painful steps forwards, stilling slightly, and cock his head towards Sirius.
"Did you hear that?" James whispered.
"I'm not sure," Sirius replied.
But then Harry couldn't wait any longer, he feared he would turn and run away if he did so. He stepped forwards, a shadow falling across the barely standing form of his father, his throat searing, tight.
This time, James tried to open his eyes, painfully, and his hands scrabbed across his eyelids repeatedly, wincing as he did so. The light was excruciating for them to bear, when they had been in total darkness for the past few weeks.
Harry raised his wand, a small whispered incantation, not bearing the sight of his father, barely standing. He couldn't bear the thought of them being crippled, all because of his delay.
Welts and burns healed themselves, fading into permanent scars and wounds a few days old. Cuts healed themselves, staunching the bleeding, replenishing part of each wizard's power. As Harry's magic weaved across them both, James' eyelids fluttered open at long last, hazel orbs bright even against the golden sinking sun beneath the horizon.
For that moment, Harry waited in bated breath;... James blinked, once, twice, looking up at him, his face betraying nothing. But slowly it began to change, from pain, sorrow, to slow comprehension, shock and disbelief.
His father lunged forwards to grab him, a harsh grip on Harry's shoulder, but he did not flinch away, and there was only long silence.
"I don't believe it," James was whispering, his eyes wide, a hand slowly reaching up to cup his son's face. "Harry left me."
Harry shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite everything. He breathed deeply, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat and said, "He came back."
A vague memory flitted across his mind, James ruffling his hair affectionately, eyes bright and smiling against the sunset, a broom across his shoulder, but in a flash it was gone.
Sirius was also staring at Harry, dumbstruck, but as Harry spoke, that expression slowly changed, morphed into a cry of wild joy. James' expression was also slowly clearing, the pain still visible but fading.
The next moment, his father's arms were around him, clinging onto him tightly for all he was worth, stammering, "You're alive, gods- you're real."
His godfather stumbled forwards and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, before he suddenly ran down the length of the beach, shouting into the wind, whooping cries of delight as he often did after a successful Quidditch match, the haunted look disappearing from his gaunt face. When he finally paused, he put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes, as though trying to convince himself it wasn't but a dream.
"It's alright now," Harry only whispered, as James trembled slightly against him. "I'm back."
But his father seemed to remain broken, unfixed; so was Sirius.
Worry clouded over him, and with a chill down his spine, Harry remembered the Dementors.
Was he already too late?
Back to present
Voldemort whirled around, beyond furious, his eyes burning a shade of fiery violet. An aura of dark magic bubbled in the air, ferocious, and he raised his wand against Harry, the boy who had betrayed him not once, but twice.
Harry's taunting gaze never left him, the boy was expecting the attack. But Voldemort was done being predictable; for a moment his eyes were trained on Harry- in the next, he had whirled around and threw the bolt of raw power right at the Hogwarts barriers.
Within the protective bubble, Dumbledore's eyes suddenly widened, pain stealing over his wizened features.
Time seemed to stop, Professor McGonagall stared at him, her mouth forming words, but no sound ensued. Those standing around had only managed to take half a hesitant step forwards-
T hen out of the blue, a sudden jet of red light thundered out of nowhere, heading directly for Dumbledore, aimed precisely for his heart.
The Headmaster did not seem to expect this move, despite his uncanny talent of catching pennies before they dropped, nor, apparently, any other members of the school. The onlookers including a few students and the staff members could only watch as it crashed into his chest. Surprise flitted over Dumbledore's features, his gaze widening as if unexpectant-
Red blossomed across his robes rapidly. Dumbledore stumbled backwards a few steps, eyes searching, before his back arched and he stopped, falling backwards.
He landed with a soft thud in the middle of the school field, oblivious to the stunned cries of horror around him. As Professor McGonagall reached him first, crying out for medical help and repeating his name, his azure eyes were still wide open, staring in the direction of where the castor stood, even as the light slowly left his eyes.
xXx
The barriers were flashing a repeated red, haywire, as the first and strongest of the Secret Keepers fell. Outside, people were screaming, crying out names, and many were running towards Dumbledore, their Headmaster, students among staff.
Rosier Jr. stared at his outstretched wand, as though in disbelief. He wanted to turn around and run away, but Dumbledore's gaze, though dead, still pinned him in place, staring wide- eyed at him.
He would never forget.
Footsteps were pounding hard along the path, he knew he'd been seen. He knew he had to leave, yet somehow he was still rooted to the ground by shock at what he had just done.
He had just killed Dumbledore.
"You filthy traitor!" a voice bellowed, harsh and angry with the promise of murder. Within seconds, there was a swift, harsh blow to his face. Rosier Jr. stumbled backwards and fell at the sheer force, his face on fire, tasting copper in his mouth.
"YOU KILLED HIM!" the same voice yelled, and ducking two Cutting Hexes narrowly, Rosier Jr. saw the livid, demented face of Ronald Weasley. "I will kill you for that."
"He deserved it," Rosier Jr. whispered, a brief forced smile flashing across his pale features before he turned tail and fled.
Ron sprinted after him, eyes seeing red rage. The pain spasming across his heart was nothing now, it didn't matter anymore. Their leader, both of for the Order, Hogwarts and the wizarding community- Dumbledore was dead-
In his blinded rage, he never even looked where he was going. His feet just kept him pounding onwards, running with anger roaring deep and dark in him after the traitor who had betrayed the Headmaster, after all he had done to keep them safe. He never even realized, as Rosier Jr. vanished around the corner, that the person he was following was blurry around the edges, something like a memory, a blur as it ran.
Voices screamed for him, telling him to come back, but he didn't listen. The filthy traitor was standing but metres away, out of reach-
It was only when the projection of Rosier Jr. disappear suddenly without a trace, did Ron realize, he was already standing outside the barriers of Hogwarts, where only a Secret Keeper could reach. Fear pricked his heart with icy tendrils, he stopped in his tracks, heart beating fast in fear, but it was too late. He was surrounded.
Desperately, Ron backed away a step, trying to run, but with a pang of growing terror, he found himself standing right in front of no one else but Lord Voldemort. For a moment, there was but the loud beating of his heart, icy fear creeping up his spine, then four jets of light knocked into him, and he fell, spiralling, into darkness.
A/N: I'm so sorry. I really don't want to leave it here, the cliffie is awful I know, and I don't know when the next update will be. *wince* But see, if I delete the cliffie, the chapter would be too short! And I don't have time to keep on writing, so sorry about that. :/...
But see, on the bright side, since this chapter is slightly shorter than the last, you'll get around two more chapters before the epilogue. :) Originally this was planned to be the second last, but I don't feel like cramming everything else into the next chapter.
Anyway, please tell me what you think about this chapter! Is Harry's plan understandable? Feel free to ask questions!
Rating system:
:D for awesome/ amazing
O for okay
X for terrible.
Please drop me a thought? Rating? :P