59 – The Master of Wands
The first spell being fired caught the attention of every wizard surrounding Harry. As Weiß directed his words at Tom, all of the Knights had looked towards him in unison, curious as to what inquiries could be making him sound so anxious. When his words were cut off, the concern on his face deepened into pure horror. He began choking, his hands grasping for his neck desperately as he dropped his wand, clawing at some invisible force. Grindelwald's people had arrived.
The strength of the panic that arose at this paralysed Harry in an instant. He searched for his wand while he ducked away from a shower of spells, his fingers grasping the weapon as if on their own accord. He didn't have time to think as he deflected attacks after attacks; Grindelwald's people were advancing from every direction.
"Jonathan, wait–"
Harry didn't listen to Macnair, who was following him closely. He wasn't going to just stay in one place now. His ears were shocked by the shouts and explosions, by the roars of anger and cries of panic. He couldn't make out who anyone rushing past him was. All he could see was blurred faces and dark brushes of black cloaks.
Harry shot spells at the wizards hiding amongst the tall, gnarled trees surrounding their hideout, as well as at those who were brave enough to come closer. It was almost impossible for him to distinguish his friends from his foes, however. The faces of Grindelwald's people mixed in easily with the faces of the new Knights of Walpurgis to his eyes.
"Expulso!"
Then again, Harry reflected angrily as a wizard before him yelled in agony, it seemed as though many of the Knights were Grindelwald's people, after all. Wizards before him were falling one by one, nothing about their outward appearance telling him if they were on his side. He could barely see anything as flashes of spell-light blinded him in places, causing him further delirium.
"Jonathan, we have to get somewhere safe," Macnair said forcibly over the sound of fighting. It took him a few failed attempts to talk. "We have to get out of here!"
"Leave then," Harry suggested, annoyed. "I want to stay and fight."
"They'll be after you specifically," Macnair said. "You'll be as good as dead –"
A spell landed close to Macnair, ending his words sharply. He was distracted now with helping Harry ward off more followers, appearing determined in the process. It seemed as though protecting Harry was his only goal now, perhaps in the fear that – as he suggested – Harry would be as good as dead fighting…
He could be dead now, Harry thought distractedly. This could be a mere mad illusion caused by the process of death; his spells felt futile and wrong as he shot them at anyone he suspected to be an enemy. It was as if Harry shouldn't be here at all, as if he were an observer upon a scene that affected his entire mind and heart, yet not at all his physicality. He ran on, trying to recognise anyone he could, before –
"Reducto!"
A dark figure crashed into Harry, hard. The weight wasn't enough to knock him over, but it did distract him – long enough for numerous spells to miss him by inches. It appeared as though Harry was right in the middle of Dorn, Nott, Avery, and Dolohov fighting some of Grindelwald's followers.
"I don't need your help!" Lestrange's voice was shouting angrily from somewhere close – to whom, Harry had no idea. "Incarcerous!"
Harry never saw if Lestrange succeeded with the spell. He didn't have time to watch if any of the Death Eaters were alright – as much as this thought worried him. The others were scattering in all directions, being split up without warning by the scare of their intruders. Harry threw spells almost continuously, hitting wizard after wizard...
They were outnumbered. Harry could see this clearly as he rushed past the crowds of innumerable shadows and he was sure the Knights would notice it too. Through the darkness, the chaos, and the confusion, Harry could catch glimpses of his comrades' scarred faces, flooded by fear at the sight of so many strangers.
"Secareileum!"
"Oi, watch it Mulciber!"
"Get out my fucking way then!" Mulciber spat at Gonson.
"Don't talk to me like–"
They were crammed together by their own choice, fearful of the watchful enemies who hid amongst the shadows, throwing spells and sending them into an utter confusion.
"I can't see a thing–"
"Don't light your wand!"
"How else am I supposed to see?"
Harry didn't know if they were going to pull through this. The Knights were already tired from attacking these wizards at Grindelwald's Fortress – it was no surprise that, after their earlier irritation, they were completely unwilling to even inquire where Tom was now, or what his orders might be. Harry was sure he even heard the distant 'crack!' of Apparition beyond the spell-fire.
Even if many of the Knights did not share the same inclination, Harry wanted to find Tom. Tom would know how to fight these people; he would know what to do, why, and when. By being near him Harry knew it would give him a new sense of determination – which is what they needed most of all to get rid of Grindelwald's people. He was getting closer to the main area of fighting, where surely Tom must be. In a few seconds, now, he would see –
For the second time, Harry was knocked off balance. A spell, now, hit his shoulder and caused him to shift direction as if he had been punched very hard. It wasn't enough to knock him over, it was more as though someone was trying to get his attention…
"Are you alright?" Macnair asked frantically.
Harry didn't answer. He was scanning the forest to his left, trying to work out where the attack had come from. "Who threw that spell?"
"I – I don't know," Macnair answered nervously, following Harry's gaze. "We should really just go."
Harry wished there was more light to help them see. He had a sickening hunch to explain who might have recognised him specifically from the others in this crowd, who might have tried to catch his attention… but he couldn't be sure. Macnair was pulling at his arm, trying to urge him away from the battle, into the forest. Harry tried to resist.
"Someone just attacked me from here!"
"We can't stay here," Macnair persisted.
"But..."
Harry didn't know what to do. He wanted to stay and fight, but that simple spell had thrown him into a state of fear and curiosity. Macnair wanted him to go into the forest to run away from the fighting, which would give Harry the chance to find out who was after him now. Yet Tom needed every fighter he could get to defeat Grindelwald's people... Both options were dangerous...
Then, in a change so swift that Harry was surprised he hadn't flinched, the forest was alight with flames.
The fire hadn't started quietly; in contradiction, it felt more as though it had erupted in an instant, more swiftly and powerfully than all of Tom's dragons could have managed. The noise of it carried over all other sounds, striking up new cries of alarm and awe in its wake. To Harry, it was obvious who had created this light; no one else but Tom could produce and control Fiendfyre of this magnitude.
At sight of the fire, a powerful encouragement was brought to the Knights and Death Eaters – especially since Grindelwald's people were recoiling at the sight, unsure that Tom could even control the fire, initially, then even more fearful when they realised that he could. It was easy for him to pick off any followers he saw. In that moment Harry was sure he must have left Fiendfyre burning at Grindelwald's fortress too.
The fire was so impressive, Harry had almost completely forgotten about who had hit him from the forest. When he looked back, he couldn't see anyone. As the fire grew there were less and less shadows in the gaps between the trees, but still he had missed whoever had tried to catch his attention so efficiently.
"Some help would be nice!" Macnair was shouting, his voice higher than usual with panic as he warded off Grindelwald's advancing followers.
Harry didn't hesitate once these words pulled him out of his distraction. Grindelwald's people were panicking, thus they were fighting harder than ever before. The enemies were falling somewhat quickly in this fight, which caused others to turn to Harry and Macnair. Some of them even recognised Harry, he feared.
"Impedimenta!" Macnair shouted, apparently unable to stop himself from using verbal spells. "Mortifisensum! Imperio!"
The faces illuminated by the light of the Fiendfyre terrified and angered Harry. He didn't recognise many of the people from what he dared see, but the emotions that Grindelwald's followers provoked within him by merely being there was enough to draw him deeper into the fighting.
Amongst many, a wizard with bared teeth was disarmed by Harry, his wrist cracking loudly, another one with a drawn hood was thrown back into the crowd, and a third with glaring eyes simply Disapparated before Harry could get him. After this, more Death Eaters joined them.
"We can't stick around with that fire going!" Dolohov was shouting. "Let's just go."
"Go where?" Rosier inquired snidely. Conversing didn't stop him from fighting, somehow. "Voldemort knows what he's doing."
Harry didn't doubt that. The Fiendfyre was spreading, yet it was obvious that Tom had complete control over it. Shapes of great lions, serpents, dragons, sphinxes, and phoenixes amongst a hundred other creatures were leaping from the flames, diving down to engulf any enemy in reach.
A spell exploded to Harry's right, making him stop. He could have sworn it had flown from behind him... Sure enough, when he turned around he could see a figure moving amongst the shadows of the trees.
He took a step forwards, trying to see who it was. At the light of the next spell being fired, Harry recognised the face, twisted in an odd mixture of emotions ranging from excitement to satisfaction to rage. Emeric appeared more threatening than Harry had ever seen him before.
The sight of Emeric terrified Harry somehow. In his hesitance more spells were fired without relent, very nearly hitting him several times. Harry wasn't sure why he went through with his next actions, but at a later date he reflected that the assurance from the light of the Fiendfyre likely led to his bravery and ignorance. Without looking back, he found himself racing into the forest as fast as he could.
"Jonath–!"
He barely heard Macnair shouting after him. It wasn't hate, curiosity, sorrow, or fear that led Harry onwards; it was a sense of unreality that gripped him swiftly and wholly. Had he looked back at the Death Eaters calling his name he might have thought twice about how dangerous it was following an enemy of his – alone – into a dark forest, but he carried on with reassurance that Tom's followers no longer needed his help now. They were safe.
As the light faded around Harry his sense of disorientation thickened. He could see the light of Emeric's wand up ahead, which pulled his mind to thoughts of the Doe Patronus he had seen camping with Hermione on the run. After having Emeric haunt his mind for the last seven months or so, Harry knew it was important for him to see the wizard again at last.
"Lumos."
"Jon–"
Harry kept on running, despite the fact that he could hear Macnair clearly behind him. His voice was hushed in fear. He sounded tempted to stop Harry himself, but he refrained from doing so, least he should face Grindelwald's people on his own. He followed Harry as closely as he could, having to run at full speed too.
All Harry could see was the dark ground and the blur of tall tress surrounding him, illuminated by nothing now except the light of his wand. Up ahead of him, Emeric was a faint glow, dashing between trees to distance himself from Harry, the latter thought. Harry's breathing was deep and his heart was pounding in nerves more than anything. The ground was hard and dry beneath his feet, his determination to catch Emeric never-wavering.
It was after what felt like an immeasurable stretch of time when something changed. The light up ahead of Harry, which had been his only sign for where to go, disappeared. He had kept running for a minute, but eventually he realised that Emeric had likely extinguished his wand to backtrack, to find Harry. This made Harry stop abruptly.
He had been listening to the rhythmic sound of his own body so closely, he hadn't realised how quiet the forest had become. Even Macnair, who sped to a halt besides him, had ceased attempting to call his name. It was no longer safe to. Every small noise would doubtlessly echo far into the surrounding forest. No matter which way Harry looked he could see nothing beyond the closest trees.
"Nox," he panted.
Macnair followed his lead without question. They stood for a moment, trying to catch their breath as their eyes attempted to get used to the dark. It felt futile. The silence of the forest contrasted against the sound of Harry's heart, which pounding in his ears, felt heavy and sickly.
"Why did you run off?" Macnair asked him seriously when he caught his breath.
Harry thought about this for a minute, but he was unable to find a way to describe what he had felt upon seeing Emeric. He said nothing.
"Who was that wizard?" Macnair then pressed. "You were obviously after him."
"Yeah," Harry admitted slowly, "I was after him."
"Do you know him?"
He didn't really, Harry reflected honestly. "I've met him a few times."
The silence of the forest was so complete, yet Harry felt as though there could be figures moving anywhere around them, waiting to attack…
"We should go."
"No," Harry muttered.
"If that wizard decides to come back for us–"
"– Then he'd already be here," Harry interrupted. They spoke in little over whispers.
"Tom would want you to go back."
"No, he wouldn't. He'd want me to fix my own mistake without getting killed first..."
"If we Apparate out of here–"
A sound from nearby cut his words short. Harry turned towards it, but he could barely make out the shapes of the trees in the darkness, let alone any dark figures looming in the shadows. He raised his wand, waiting perfectly still for the sound to be made again. He tried hard to keep his breath quiet, feeling and hearing Macnair standing just to his left.
Nothing happened. Still they stood in silence, listening hard. Harry was in half a mind to leave, like Macnair suggested. They could easily Apparate, or use a silencing charm, or make themselves completely invisible, but Harry couldn't bring himself to share these ideas with Macnair when he knew Emeric was so close. It was this, more than anything, which was to blame when suddenly a voice yelled out from another direction.
There was a flash of bright light and a heavy thudding sound. Harry spun around, ready to face however was out there. He saw a dark figure amongst the trees and shot a spell towards it. Whoever was there Disapparated with a loud 'crack', causing the forest to endure the second loudest sound since the initial spell. When all was silent, Harry headed towards Macnair.
It had looked as though Macnair had seized when the spell first hit, but he was better now, trying his best to stand up. Harry helped him, feeling that he was trembling somewhat from the strength of the spell. He tried his best to look prepared again, stepping away from Harry after an almost silent, "thanks".
Harry walked forwards quietly to change where they were standing. Nothing could be seen through the darkness, still.
"Where'd they go?" Macnair asked in a hushed voice.
"They Disapparated..."
Nothing moved through the thick, humid air, which seemed to press upon them. With a wave of his wand Harry cast a Silencing Charm on their shoes and cloaks, intent upon not making it obvious where they were.
"Come o-"
The moment they started walking, a spell was shot at them and hit a nearby tree, burning a deep hole in the side of it. Harry grabbed Macnair's arm, pulling him onwards as he glanced back hurriedly to try and see where the spell had come from. He stopped walking as soon as he saw a faint glow in the distance.
It was evidently wand-light from whoever has brought them here.
Harry reacted without thinking, throwing a spell at the light. He began sprinting. The light was moving but he followed it, moving as fast as he could and never once taking his eyes off of it. It didn't occur to him how foolish it was for their enemy to keep such obvious wand-light in this dark forest. He'd have the perfect shot, he'd be able to stop them...
"Stupe-"
Harry stopped. He was close to the light now – far closer than he expected he was. It wasn't wand-light. In fact, Harry wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed this before; it was a singular ball of light floating in mid-air that he had chased. He didn't have time to process what this meant before the light extinguished.
Someone shouted behind Harry. The sound echoed through the wide gaps between the trees. Harry stood frozen, staring into the darkness that had fallen. Every muscle in his body was tensed as he registered one thing: Macnair was gone, and that had sounded very much like his voice.
Stepping away from where he was, Harry raised his wand numbly. He tried not to let his feet kick the twigs, rocks and dirt around him, least they should make any noise past his Silencing Charm. He could feel his pulse quickening, but he strained his ears hard for the sound of Macnair's voice.
He could hear faint, muffled voices. It wasn't due to any duelling, he knew, for no spell-fire could be seen. Harry wasn't sure whether any spells had even been used whilst he was distracted. All he knew was that Macnair must have been captured by Emeric and it wouldn't be long before he tried to kill him.
Harry knew that this, too, was likely a trap. He made his way towards the source of the noise, his mind racing quickly in an attempt to work out what he should do.
The voices were still going on, but it was impossible to pinpoint exactly where from. It was still too dark for Harry to walk quickly and they were still too far away. By running towards that light he had distanced himself a lot from Macnair without even realising it. He heard a louder shout. He began walking faster.
He had no idea why Emeric would be luring him in further by hurting Macnair enough to make him shout. It seemed a weak plan compared to creating fake light for him to follow, to attack when he didn't expect it. If Emeric had wanted to attack Harry, before would have been the perfect timing.
"N-n-no!" Harry could hear Macnair shouting.
He began running, knowing he was closer now.
"W-what are you d-do-?"
He could hear the voices perfectly now. Another wizard (Emeric, Harry supposed) was speaking in German to Macnair, his voice low and threatening. Harry could feel the anger building in him and he gripped his wand more securely, ready to fire a spell any moment...
Then he heard someone behind him. He stopped dead, terror rising in him more strongly than ever before. The footsteps were surely close if he had heard them over the sound of his own running. He didn't dare risk turning around, even if he couldn't see a thing anyway. He waited for any sign of sudden movements...
No sudden movements happened, however. The footsteps carried on calmly and evenly, missing Harry by perhaps ten feet and carrying on towards the noise. This told Harry that Emeric blatantly wasn't alone. He heard the new wizard laugh; this was Emeric.
"Busy, are we?" he asked, his tone teasing.
"I vould ask - you if you vould like - to join me," the second wizard responded, laughing and panting between his words, "but I am sure you vould - rather vait - for zhe ozer von."
"You know me too well."
The wizard laughed.
"D-d-don't d-do-that-" Macnair was stuttering.
Harry wanted to go and attack the two wizards, but he wasn't sure now if the two of them were even alone. If there were more of them they'd go after him as soon as he used a spell...
"AGGGGGGGGH!"
"Shhh, shhh..."
"S-ST-STOP! W-WHAT ARE YOU D-D- AGGGGGH!"
Harry couldn't help it, he began heading towards the voices again. He wasn't just going to stand and listen while they tortured Macnair to death.
"J-JONATH-AGGGGH!"
Emeric sounded amused. "You've done this before?"
The second wizard laughed. "Zhat - he has not..."
"S-STOP! G-GET OFF OF-M-M-ME!"
They had to be close now. Harry could hear them in front of him but it felt as though it was taking forever to get close enough. He felt as though he'd never reach Macnair in time to save him.
"STOP! N-NO, N... n-no..."
Should Harry risk throwing a spell at the voices, even if it meant attracting the attention of a third wizard in hiding? But what if he wasn't able to hit Emeric or the German wizard, or if they ended up killing Macnair in a fight?
"Agggggh... s... s-stop! N-n... no..."
For one horrible second Harry thought they were moving further away – or worse, that Macnair had given up. But the shouts weren't moving, they were merely going on less and less.
"Agh... P-pl-please..."
"Yes..." the German wizard soothed in a sickening voice, "you like zhis now, no?"
Harry froze. It suddenly occurred to him what the German wizard must be doing...
"N-n-no..."
He didn't want to believe his own suspicion. The thought struck him too hard, making him feel dizzy as he stared off into nothingness, going unnoticed by even himself as he lost his sense of reality. He could barely think; he was trapped in a state of registering what was happening whilst being unable react. All he knew was that wanted the noise the stop.
Then Harry did something rather foolish. Forgetting the consequences and forgetting all that had stopped him before, he ran onwards, igniting his wand. Within seconds he was close enough to see the three dark figures. His eyes sought out Emeric first.
"EXPLUSO!"
But Emeric had fled just in time. He disappeared into the forest, doing his best to try and fire spells back at Harry as he did so. The second wizard stood up in this time. He Disapparated with a loud 'crack!' before Harry could so much as throw a spell. Harry knew they would be back in a matter of seconds, but this didn't stop him from looking towards Macnair.
Macnair was shaking badly, trying to get up from the ground quickly but failing to do so. Harry could see rips in his cloak and wounds dug deep into his flesh between it. He was sure that Macnair hadn't shouted because of the pain so much as the shock, however. Tom has taught his Knights well to tolerate torture, yet he had never prepared them for something like this.
BANG!
Emeric had returned. Harry spun around to face him, deflecting the spells that were shot at him determinedly, which crackled and erupted through the air around him like lightning. Emeric's face was illuminated in the sharp bursts of light, deep shadows cast over his crumpled expression, which told Harry of his anger, his resoluteness, and his elation at the idea that they finally had the chance to meet one another again.
"IMPERIO!"
Harry deflected the Imperius Curse. He stopped spells after spells from hitting him and spent more time doing this than firing anything back. He knew he was surely better at magic than Emeric was, but the sheer relentlessness that Emeric displayed was surprising. If it weren't for the fact that he had greater plans for Harry, it would be of no surprise if he used much more deadly spells without hesitation.
"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted.
"Imperio!"
"Stupef-!"
A spell flew past Harry's chest from the side, telling him that the German wizard had emerged from the darkness.
"REDUCTO!"
The spell was a direct hit, which caused Harry a moment of confusion. It didn't make sense that the German wizard could have taken down Macnair if he couldn't avoid one simple spell. The wizard was thrown back when the spell hit his chest. He crashed into a large tree, which stood a few meters behind him, and smashed the back of his head harshly.
When Harry turned back to Emeric, prepared to continue fighting him without further pause, he found that the other wizard had stopped trying to attack. His wand was held lazily by his side, suggesting that he was sure Harry wouldn't fight him now that there was less of a threat. He knew Harry would listen.
The forest was quiet. The two wizards were watching each other apprehensively, until Harry slowly, carefully, began to lower his wand. Both of their wands were lit, casting enough light for them to see the whole area. Tension still ran through Harry, causing him to clench his fists, but he doubted Emeric noticed: he never took his eyes off of Harry's. Then he spoke.
"I knew I would find you... No matter how sought after you were, and are, I found you myself..."
He appeared to be in awe at his own achievement. He was staring as though he was sure Harry might disappear any second now, for any reason. Harry was in half a mind to leave, in honesty.
"I don't understand what happened with us," Emeric carried on. He hadn't seemed to blink once yet. "I don't understand what went wrong."
Harry wondered if he was perhaps slightly deranged. "I didn't want to go with you, remember?"
"You would have," Emeric said. Not a flicker of emotion could be seen changing upon his drab features. "You would have if it weren't for... him."
By 'him' Emeric doubtlessly meant Tom. The way Harry remembered it, however, he had refused to go with Emeric even before Tom had showed up... but something told him that he shouldn't bring this up now.
"It would have been great," Emeric said in a hushed voice.
Harry doubted that greatly. Again, however, something in the look in Emeric's eyes stopped Harry from commenting on this. He wished he wouldn't stare so eerily. Harry felt compelled to not look away.
Movement could be heard to the side of Emeric. Macnair, who Harry had almost forgotten about, was yet again trying to get up. He was no more successful than before. Harry wanted to go and help him, to stop some of the bleeding and to heal him, but he knew that he couldn't. Emeric was too dangerous.
Suddenly Harry raised his wand; Emeric had taken hurried steps towards him.
"Don't!" Harry warned.
"It's alright," Emeric said. He had an empty hand raised in innocence, a smile creeping upon his face. "I just want to look at you."
Harry clenched his teeth together. Emeric had changed a lot, which was perhaps the worst thing in general about seeing him now. All those times Harry had frightened himself with thoughts of Emeric, nothing could be worse than seeing the real him, changed and more alarming than ever before. Macnair's current state proved as much.
"You have my wand," Emeric mentioned. He looked down for only a second before saying this. "You never chose a new wand."
Harry was a little taken aback – both by the suddenness of this observation and by the truth behind it. He had indeed never found a new wand to replace Emeric's, and the more he thought about it now the more he wondered why. He didn't like having the wand and he was sure that if he had asked, Tom would have found a suitable replacement for him... He didn't see how this mattered, however.
"I only kept it because it worked," he said honestly.
"But it must have reminded you of me," Emeric suggested. "You kept it."
"I wanted my own wand back," Harry explained. This wasn't a lie, even if in truth he had never liked Draco's hawthorn wand as much as the holly and phoenix feather wand that had broken years ago. Draco's wand was still better than Emeric's; it felt far more like his own.
"I'm not going to trade wands, if that's what you planned," Emeric told him. There was a glint of some wild emotion in his eyes now. "I like this wand better."
"It can't be better than your actual wand," Harry pointed out.
"It's perfect."
"It can't be."
Emeric smiled. "It looks like you're just right for me in this way, too."
Harry glared at him.
Then, without warning, Emeric was annoyed. Harry couldn't be sure whether it was because of him; all he knew was that this is what he disliked about Emeric as a person. His emotions changed too quickly to be normal. He looked prepared for a fight.
"Why do you like him?" Emeric demanded, his face contorted in frustration.
"What's it to you?" Harry asked. He was vaguely aware that Macnair could be listening to this, yet he hardly cared.
"Eleven days!" Emeric exclaimed suddenly. "He left you there for eleven days, Richard!"
"In which time you didn't try to help me soon either," Harry observed. He felt annoyed too now, yet not as much as he was uneasy.
"I had a plan," Emeric said irritably, "I had to wait for the right time, had to steal your wand back, had to risk everything!"
"I would rather have waited. Tom would have come for me even-"
"You would have died for nothing!"
"I would have died for him."
Emeric was laughing angrily now, letting out a loud, dry wheeze of disbelief. "Ha! What is love then, you suppose, that lead your dear Tom to seek other men, do you th-?"
Harry shot a spell at Emeric, anger rising in him before he could help it. Emeric deflected the spell, shooting it right back at Harry, who dodged it. As he moved to the left so did Emeric. They were slowly circling each other now.
"He isn't worth it," Emeric snarled. "You'll be better off with me."
"I'll never go with you," Harry spat, "not for any reason."
"You won't have a choice. Imperio!"
"Protego!"
Harry was shocked when he heard the spell crash behind him. He had just risked getting hit while his shield charm was broken by Emeric's curse. He retaliated in pure shock.
"STUPEFY!"
Emeric's shield charm worked. He was quick to attack again.
"IMPERIO!"
How Emeric expected the Imperius Curse to work, Harry wasn't sure. It would take a lot to put Harry under the curse... so Emeric was either being foolish or confident. The only advantage that Emeric had over Harry was that, apparently, he lacked a conscience. He was unfazed by how simply the German wizard had been defeated, and unfazed by what he had done to Macnair.
"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted. The spell was deflected again, along with all the others. "Obscuro! Confringo!"
"Tell me," Emeric began over the explosion of Harry's last spell, "why are you using such basic spells, Richard?"
"I'm not here to capture you," Harry reminded him bitterly. "I'm not a fan of the Imperius Curse."
"You aren't attacking to kill me," Emeric pointed out. "You aren't even attacking to hurt me with these spells, are you?"
"Secareileum!"
The spell didn't hit it's target any more successfully than the previous ones had. Emeric somehow managed to throw back a spell exactly on target – a achievement that Harry had seen so few wizards succeed at before, least of all purposefully. Harry's curse exploded in midair when it came in contact with Emeric's.
There had to be an explanation for why this kept happening. Harry worried for a moment if perhaps Emeric's wand was failing for him because it was being used against it's initial master. Emeric had Draco's wand after all, rather than any wand that was truly Harry's. It appeared to be working exceedingly well.
Emeric laughed, even if he knew that Harry's spell would have been powerful if it had hit it's target. He was proud at his own success. "You can't hurt me!"
"Watch me," Harry retorted through gritted teeth.
Yet again Emeric deflected his spells with apparent ease. He hadn't yet put Harry under the Imperius Curse, but it was clear that he felt no stress to yet. Upon seeing the shower of spells that Harry threw at him, which became more frequent, powerful, and determined with every frustrating moment that passed, Emeric remained calm.
"Stop doing that!" Harry found himself shouting. Fury rose within him while he felt as though everything he did was futile. This was worse than he could have imagined; anger and confusion mixed sickeningly with the worry that built up more and more with every failed spell.
"This isn't how it works..."
"What?"
Emeric was glowering at him, his brow twitching as though he couldn't decide how to react. "This isn't how it's supposed to work!"
Harry was bemused by this point. The emotions he felt were irritating him further with every moment that passed. "How is this supposed to work, then?"
"You – you can't... stop fighting me off!"
"What, I'm supposed to just let you curse me?"
"I wouldn't hurt you. I'd never hurt you."
Harry knew this was a lie. "Right..."
"Surely you can't want to keep me alive?" Emeric asked.
"What?"
"Your spells," Emeric began, a smile spreading on his face, "they aren't enough to truly hurt me fatally, even if they did hit. You don't want to kill me."
"I don't want you alive," Harry told him.
In truth, the only reason Harry wasn't using worse spells was because he couldn't find the courage to utter that final spell that could end this all...
"Your wand doesn't work well for me," he then added.
"Yours works better than mine for me," Emeric boasted.
"That's impossible," Harry scoffed. "Just because you won my wand doesn't mean you've suddenly become the master of-"
Harry stopped. He could feel the blood draining out of his face. Suddenly, he understood why Emeric couldn't be defeated easily now...
There was a reason for why Emeric had survived for so long despite all the battles that Grindelwald's people had so far faced. There was a reason for why he had managed to trick Harry, and why he had likely been a large part in helping Grindelwald's people break into Tom's land. There was a reason for why the German wizard had fallen so simply compared, and why Macnair had been easily taken down..
Emeric was, without doubt, Master of the Elder Wand...
"Don't go!" Emeric pleaded.
Harry was backing away. He couldn't believe his own theory but he knew it had to be true, despite how difficult it was to accept. Harry didn't know how he hadn't thought about it before; he didn't know how he hadn't even realised that most of his power had come from the Elder Wand itself. He thought that Emeric's wand plus his own weakened health after Grindelwald's Fortress had weakened his magical ability, but now he understood...
He had to get his wand back. He stood still now, watching Emeric as his mind raced. He was dully conscious of the fact that he should also be helping Macnair, yet he couldn't bring himself to concentrate on that now. Emeric was waiting to see what he would do, watching him as if he were a delicate creature who ought to be treated with great care.
"Rich-"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Protego."
The ease is what annoyed and scared Harry the most. "Expell-!"
Emeric had shot a hex to stop him to stop his spell. "This isn't how it's supposed to work, Richard!"
"Exp- Stupefy!"
Emeric was walking towards him now.
"Impedimenta!"
Each step he took was without struggle, without haste. He rejected Harry's spells as though they had never been cast. "Richard, don't -"
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
It felt like a nightmare. Emeric was close to him now, smiling at him softly. It was as though he couldn't comprehend Harry's dislike for him. He saw none of Harry's attacks; his hands seemed to act on their own accord to protect him. He was transfixed. He didn't even care that Harry took many steps back, his wand still held up in defence.
"I won't hurt you," Emeric was whispering. "I'll never hurt you."
"Get away from me!"
"It's alright. Richard, it's alright."
"Get off!" Harry pushed Emeric back; his hand had reached for Harry's shoulder.
"You don't have to make this diffic-"
"Just stay away from me!"
There was a change in Emeric's face. He was irked now.
"I'm not going to hurt you -"
"Yeah, because you've never done that before!"
At his own words Harry felt more aggravated than ever. There was no way Emeric wasn't going to hurt him. He was probably going to do the same thing the German wizard had done to Macnair, except he would take Harry far away first. The idea disgusted Harry deeply. Frustration at not being able to obtain Emeric's wand drove his indignation deeper upon hearing these lies. He knew Emeric likely didn't know what he was doing wrong.
"Richard – stop –"
But Harry kept pushed him away and kept backing up. "Stay away from-"
"Cruci-"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!"
The Cruciatus Curse was thrown completely off track as Harry's spell struck. Emeric seemed to explode with the force of the attack, blood spurting in every direction after a flash of blinding light. He was stumbling backwards, his brown eyes widened in shock and fear whilst fixed upon Harry. Blood was dropping to the ground even before Emeric fell, his feet dragging and scraping blood into dirt.
"Emer-!"
The gashes across Emeric's chest were deeper than Harry could have anticipated. He regretted using the spell as soon as he had; he hadn't even expected it to work at all. All of his anger – all of his desire to truly hurt Emeric for what he had done – had gone into that one spell. Emeric couldn't seem to breathe very much anymore.
Harry followed the short trail of blood and fell to his knees besides Emeric. He watched him in pure horror, his mind frozen. Something about hearing an Unforgivable Curse must have made him think that spell, Harry thought numbly. Except these gashes were deeper than they had been on Draco and there was no Professor here to help Harry cure him...
"V-vulnera Sanentur..." Harry began weakly.
He didn't care that he wasn't supposed to be doing this. He didn't care that Emeric was an enemy of his, or that Emeric had done him wrong. All that mattered now was that the other wizard was struggling breathe, blatantly in a lot of pain. His limbs were trembling in shock and blood could be seen dripping from his mouth now.
"Vul-nera Sanent-Sanent-..."
Emeric was looking up at him now. His dark eyes were were wide with horror at first, but something in the way Harry looked at Emeric changed this. His gaze became softer, ridden of all indignation and fear. His eyes became shinier when he heard Harry's voice falter. He knew that it was over. He began to speak, unable to achieve more than a whisper.
"I knew... I would find you..."
"Don't – d-don't-"
But Harry knew it was too late. The thought was gone in those dark brown eyes and even the tears within them were leaking away from Emeric's body...
"Vul-Vulnera Sanentur!" Harry shouted. "Vulnera Sanentur!"
Nothing was happening. Blood continued to leak from Emeric's corpse.
"Vul-vul – Rennervate!" Harry tried in desperation. "Finite Incantatem..."
He was gone. Harry didn't want to accept it, but it was nothing but the truth. Emeric's lungs were no longer fighting for air, his limbs were still at last, and his eyes no longer saw Harry kneeling above him as his last ever sight. What terrified Harry the most was that in his last moments Emeric had stared at him in soft reassurance, as if he had forgiven Harry, in his sorrow, for murder...
Harry was shaking badly. He couldn't comprehend what he had done; he couldn't convince himself of what had truly just happened. He felt as though his lungs were being constricted. He had to force himself to pull in more air to breath. He couldn't stop himself from crying, the tears blurring the sight of Emeric and confusing him beyond belief.
Harry stood up. He literally couldn't think. He felt unable to look at Emeric any longer yet his eyes were stuck fixated upon the corpse before him. Blood had soaked into his robes; he could feel it on his knees, his hands, his face... His mind ran in short circles of thought and non-thought to distract him. He couldn't believe what had happened.
He had to get away from here. He couldn't take waiting in the silence with Emeric's carcass, even if his own heavy breath and troubled thoughts felt deafening beyond it. He stood up, tearing his eyes away from the stream of blood that was making it's way down Emeric's cold neck, pouring from his slightly parted lips.
When Harry looked around he found he was the only conscious wizard here. The German wizard was still knocked out, and as for Macnair, not a movement could be seen from him. Harry felt a shiver run through him. He began running towards Macnair. Surely two wizards can't have died; surely this would be far too much...
"Rennervate!"
Harry waited. Macnair didn't move, until his eyes began to flicker open.
The site alarmed Harry, somehow. He related it to Emeric with the use of the spell and somehow this made it almost as bad as if Macnair hadn't awoken at all... He stood up before the Knight could look at him properly.
"What happened?" Macnair asked wearily.
Harry swallowed a few times to try and sooth his throat. He could find no reply.
He walked over to the German wizard, finding Macnair's wand resting in his pocket as soon as he began searching for it. He took it, soon levitating it to the other wizard.
"Thanks," Macnair said weakly.
Upon hearing his voice, Harry remembered how much pain Macnair must have been in at this moment. Quite a few deep wounds still remained gashed into his skin. Macnair wouldn't be able to heal these on his own. Harry walked back towards him.
"Hold still," Harry muttered.
Holding his wand up, ready to begin the magic, Harry was confused. He couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't hard to heal someone this hurt, all he had to do was say the spells... this wasn't Emeric... Emeric was gone...
He began trying to use non-verbal spells, least his voice should give away the sea of emotions crashing inside of him. He forced his hands to stop trembling the best he could.
"I..." Macnair began.
Harry paused – gladly. "What is it?"
"I don't understand what happened," Macnair said shortly.
He seemed deeply concerned, unwilling to elaborate. Harry understood why.
He looked back down at Macnair's wounds just to look away. He wanted to say it was alright, to comfort the other wizard, but he couldn't bring himself to.
"It's over now..."
"Yeah..."
They fell into a silence. A few minutes passed.
When Harry looked at Macnair again, he found him staring over at the German wizard.
"He's unconscious," Harry told him.
"What?" Macnair asked sharply, looking at him. "Why didn't you kill him?"
Harry shifted back a little. He had healed Macnair well enough now. "I didn't get the chance to."
"Now is a chance," Macnair stated.
Harry stood up. "I'm not going to kill him."
Macnair began to stand too. It wasn't easy for him to, since he was still in some pain, but he tried nevertheless. He didn't question Harry's choice, yet he didn't seem at all happy about it. He looked away.
Harry wanted to keep looking at Macnair, but when eye contact was lost with him he found himself thinking about Emeric. He couldn't help it when he looked back at the body again, which rested so peacefully that Emeric might have been sleeping... had it not been for all the blood. Then, Harry caught sight of his wand in Emeric's hand.
The wand had broken. It was unmistakably due to the spell Harry had used to kill Emeric; a clean cut could be seen running diagonally across it, breaking it cleanly in two. A thought jumped into Harry head, informing him that this was the second time he had used that spell against the holder of Draco's wand. Harry had broken the only weapon in this era that he felt close to being his. He was left holding the wand that belonged to the man he had murdered.
Suddenly everything was illuminated in vibrant red light and a wild hissing noise filled the forest. When Harry spun around to see what was happening, he saw Macnair standing tall now, his wand pointed at the sky.
"What are you -?"
The sparks of red remained in the sky, looming high above them.
"Why did you do that?" Harry shouted.
"For the others," Macnair responded, confused. "If Tom wants to know where you are, he needs a sign."
"And what about Grindelwald's people?" Harry asked.
"Oh..." Macnair stared at him, his eyes large with fear. "I-"
'Crack!'
People were Apparating close to where they were. Harry and Macnair stood frozen, staring at each other's shadowed faces.
"Oi!" I voice called from the darkness.
Macnair gave a sigh of relief. They recognised that as Avery's voice.
"We're here!" Macnair called to him. "Jonathan and I are safe."
"Did you hear that?" another voice was asking, his satisfaction audible. "We've found them, my Lord!"
The next thing Harry knew, a number of Knights were edging into the small circle of trees he stood within. Leading the group was Tom, who's eyes searched first for Harry. He seemed annoyed, but more relieved than ever to see they were safe.
"What happened in the battle?" Macnair was asking.
"We beat them," Avery answered happily. "Most of them just ran off, but a lot of them didn't make it to tell the tale."
"We've got a few captives as well," Mulciber added. A sickening grin spread across his large face. "They don't seem happy about that."
"I see you ran into trouble, somewhat, in your absence," Tom commented quietly. His eyes were scanning the two unconscious and dead wizards before him. "I was under the impression that you called me here to help, Macnair?"
"Oh, er," Macnair began sheepishly. "Well, no, I just though you'd want to know where Jonathan was, and in case any more of them chased after -"
"So you decided to send up sparks?" Tom inquired sceptically.
"I knew you won the battle," Macnair explained. "Jonathan killed that other wizard and I thought that it was best not –"
"What?" Tom demanded.
"– not to risk getting in more fights," Macnair finished.
Tom ignored his words. His eyes were on Harry now, widened in pure surprise at what he had heard. He then dropped his gaze to the corpse that lay within a large puddle of blood. Walking towards this, he examined Emeric's cold, dead body. His face was shadowed, especially as the sparks above them faded to dark crimson, before vanishing.
The Knights waited quietly, curious as to what Tom was doing. Then, quietly to begin with, Tom began laughing. The sound shocked Harry further for a moment and he wondered if he might have imagined it. But Tom was laughing more and more, turning back to the light of his Knights' wands now with the mad, inhumane smile etched deep into his face. The Death Eaters were almost as confused as Harry was.
Harry wished Tom would stop staring at him like that. This was the happiest Harry could remember ever seeing Tom and it tore at his chest in a way he couldn't describe. He was horrified that his own actions could strike within Voldemort such vibrant triumph, sickening enthralment, and purely morbid elation.
Not a word could be said by Tom to elucidate what he felt, except the name of a spell. Withdrawing his wand in an elegant motion, Tom pointed it up towards the heavens.
"MORSMORDRE!"
