Chapter 3

Harry didn't even have a second to think before scrambling behind the closest object that could provide him cover, which turned out to be a neat pile of potato sacks. The spot where he was only a few moments ago exploded in a shower of burnt wood splinters. The teen raised his arm to shield his face and could feel cuts forming on it. His eyes were open wide as he felt himself panicking from the sudden assault. It took a few seconds for his instincts to kick in, remembering the sessions of Dumbledore's Army and the many fights he already got into.

The wizard steeled himself before turning around and firing three stunning spells in quick succession, finishing them with a disarming charm. The teen stayed in his crouching position, looking confused since he couldn't see his opponent.

The sharp blow at his head informed him of her whereabouts, as the woman harshly kicked Harry, aiming for his forehead. His head exploded in pain as he slid a few meters from the strike, ending up on his stomach, his glasses barely holding together.

"Mistake number one boy, never lose sight of your opponent." Her voice was clear as a day, even through the haze that settled in Harry's mind as he gasped for air.

However, Harry wasn't unfamiliar with pain, and had quite a good tolerance for it. It took around 10 seconds to recover. Strangely she didn't strike at his moment of weakness, which was more than what Harry was used to.

He shakily picked himself up, his wand still in his hand, his breathing shallow and uneven. The proud Gryffindor wasn't willing to let his opponent bring him down. He wanted to look death in the eyes, not with a submissive bend of his head.

A small smirk played on the woman's lips, her grey eyes sparkling in slight thoughtfulness. She let a small chuckle escape her. "You have spirit; at least you're not completely useless."

It had the intended effect. With an angry grimace, Harry released a volley of spells at her, ignoring the protests of his limbs. The witch masterfully evaded and blocked all of his attacks, slowly advancing to him, giving less and less room for spell work. The wizard could see what she was trying to do, realizing that he had no chance against her in physical combat. He started backing off, desperate to find an escape before he was cornered.

Deep inside though, he was feeling anger. A pure uncontrolled enraged beast roared its protests in his chest. He was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, he defeated Voldemort many times. There was no way he was going to let this wench defeat him. With those thoughts motivating him, the wizard started striking with more aggression, his spells becoming more offensive and destructive. His green eyes gleamed in cold satisfaction as he saw the woman almost stumbling from the surprise of his sudden ferocity.

However, it faded quickly and the woman began recovering, her moves becoming swifter and stronger, matching his with power and agility. The room started to shake as Harry became angrier and angrier, putting more power behind his spells, yet his aim was starting to lose precision.

Finally, the witch took advantage of one of his rash and uncontrolled moves. She caught his out-stretched wand arm, pulling him in her direction. Harry felt himself losing his balance, unable to regain his footing as he was sent flying through the air. He landed painfully on his back, groaning as he felt something pressing on his throat, slowly draining the oxygen from his lungs.

"Mistake number two you little brat: never let your anger get to you, it can have painful consequences, especially if your opponent knows how to use it." Harry could faintly hear her voice, but the bigger concern to him at the moment was the hard knee that was pressing with increasing pressure on his throat.

Suddenly, the teen could feel a light probing in his mind. It took him a second to realize what it was, but when he did, his eyes shot open in panic. Harry thought back to his lessons with Snape and tried to remember what to do to protect his mind from the intruder. It was one thing when it was just an annoying hated teacher trying to get into his mind to embarrass him, but it was completely something else when it was an enemy that could kill him and then use his knowledge for her own evil causes.

"Horcruxes" Harry slammed that knowledge tightly before she was able to access it, burying it deep into his soul, unwilling to let it slip.

He heard a thoughtful hum from her, but she backed away from that section of his memories. Instead, she dwelled deep into his past. She stopped for a moment on that faithful night. The teen cringed as he saw his parents dying again, almost losing the contents of his stomach, but holding stubbornly strong. The pause was abnormally long, but after some moments she continued her probing of his memories. Harry could see his whole childhood passing in front of his eyes, feeling embarrassed and humiliated as he saw himself getting bullied by his relatives, realizing how pitiful he must've looked to a complete stranger.

He could almost feel some kind of a strange reaction from her, almost as if she was angry or upset, but he dismissed that. There was no way she would feel bad for him, she wanted to kill him after all.

After that came his years at Hogwarts. Harry felt happy yet extremely sad as he saw the many adventures he, Hermione and Ron went through as they grew up. It was still hard to believe that the tight friendship they had was broken after all these years. Harry could feel tears slowly pouring down his cheeks but he angrily tried to stop them, knowing that it was his choice to leave them and fight against Voldemort.

All of it didn't matter anymore anyway, Harry thought bitterly. He was going to die very soon, once the witch was done with draining all of his memories. He could almost see already a new Dark Lady running around with the knowledge of Horcruxes. Harry hoped that they would just kill each other with their hungry struggle for power.

Then out of nowhere, he felt the pressure on his throat lifted up, but he kept his eyes closed. Before, he wanted to face death with his eyes open, proudly and fearlessly, but now Harry felt the fight leaving his limbs. He was utterly beaten, there was nothing to fight for anymore.

"Get up, Harry." Her voice shook him out of his trance, noticing the sudden almost gentle quality of it.

His emerald-green eyes fluttered open as he stared at her with caution, yet he couldn't detect the previous hostility in her gray eyes.

His hand rose to his throat as he tried to gasp in a few breaths, feeling the bruise forming there. Harry could see her closing her eyes as if she was regretting her actions, and then she spoke.

"I may have been wrong about you. I think we have a lot of things to discuss, Harry Potter."

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