For the first time, I have a warning to put out: there are around 3-5 paragraphs towards the bottom that involve Nazis and Hitler, which may prove to be offensive to some readers. I would like to state that, naturally, no offence whatsoever was intended in the writing...
Chapter Four: Of What Awaits The Sin Of Greed
As a result of the time, as well as the attack, Gringotts had been placed in full lockdown. The front doors had been forced closed. The back doors, leading to the monstrous, dimly lit caverns holding all the gold in the Wizarding world had disappeared entirely. At that moment, Gringotts bank consisted only of the mostly deserted lobby.
In complete silence, the last few embers from the fiery dragon floated harmlessly to the floor. Despite being cut off from their source, they sparked and glowed with life, futilely clinging to the remainder of their. Their expiration was enrapturing in its soundlessness, fading away with a sudden, final flare that lit up the entire lobby and caused a wave heat to wash over the room.
Eventually, the luminosity and warmth faded away. Only then did he relax, letting the tension drain out of his tightly coiled muscles.
His cloak had been damaged by the flames, and parts of it had been singed by stray spells. He discarded it, having no need for its warmth, which could be substituted for by spells. His father could replace with a single word, or he could do it himself; right now, it only got in the way.
Before the tattered black fabric had even settled on the cold marble floor, Harry was already in motion. His hands swept through their air in slow swirls and lighting jabs, his fists clenching and unclenching as though he was the conductor of an orchestra visible only to him. Though the rest of his body remained as motionless as though it had been carved out of the same marble as that of the bank, his arms never stopped moving, never hesitated. To his remaining men, he surely looked like he had gone mad, no wand in his hand, no incantation to be heard, no effect appearing from his motions.
But Harry ignored them all. He had a task to do now, one that would be instrumental in saving them all, and he needed no distractions. Even if the Death Eaters had dared to voice their doubts, he wouldn't have heard them, for his entire concentration was on the burnished bronze doors.
Seconds passed, and then half a minute. Forty seconds...forty-five...fifty...fifty-five...without a sound.
Then came the rattling. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly where the sound was coming from, for it seemed to originate from every darkened corner, every shadow, simultaneously so that no other noise could be heard save for the phantom chains – and phantom they certainly were for the next moment they appeared, translucent in appearance yet ominously dark. It wasn't the coloring, although mix of sickly green and murky black certainly played its part, but the even fainter, almost smoke-like tendrils that rose from the metal itself, curling and winding, at time stretching, reaching and grabbing for anything that was nearby. The chains appeared not from any particular direction, but out of mid-air, as though sliding and clinking dangerously out of a hole that only someone equally ethereal could see.
There were three of them, and they slithered towards the doors like serpents, twisting and writhing. Their snake-like appearance was only solidified by the loud hiss that erupted when each of them finally touched the doors, audible even over the unceasing clanking of the metal links. The hissing, too, never stopped, so that when all three had made contact the hiss became that much more pronounced, now more like a constant sizzling as though cold water was being poured over hot coals rather than the language of the serpents.
The reason for the sound quickly became evident. Holes quickly began appearing on the surface of the bronze wherever the chains had touched, and it became pretty clear that they were burning holes through the supposedly goblin wrought metal. The holes were perfectly sized for the chains, which proceeded to burn their way back through from the outside to form three evenly spaced circles, identical and yet not parallel, like longitudes on a globe, which was in fact not all that different from what the chains were doing. Together, they formed a sphere situated perfectly at the centre of the double doors and, without any need for further command, they began shrinking, the ball becoming smaller and smaller. Finally, they became no larger than a fist, then a tennis ball, even smaller, tiny now, and then they disappeared entirely, leaving no trace that they had ever been there.
Yet their mark had been left as Harry lowered their hands. The holes formed by the chains were conspicuously absent, as though they had never existed. Even those that had watched the chains appear, both on the outside as well as the inside, couldn't be certain that they had actually been there at all. The front doors of Gringotts were, after all, now completely untarnished...untarnished that is, except for the bold, black markings the chains had left in their wake, a six pointed asterisk on both sides of the thick metal.
"So," Harry drawled, turning to face the Death Eaters. Only seven stood before him. The others hadn't made it into the bank, and he had no idea whether they were dead or alive and captured. With great difficulty, he quashed the rage that he could feel welling up within him like magma from a volcano. Sooner or later, he was going to burst, but not now.
"Which one of you is a spy?" he questioned, aiming his wand at each of them in turn. "Nott? Avery? I was somewhat preoccupied, but I don't remember seeing you during the battle..."
"My Lord, I can assure you that I am completely faithful, utterly..."
"Please, my Lord, I would never..."
But Harry waved them off. He didn't think they were the traitors.
"What about you, McNair? This line of work too dangerous for you? Perhaps you believe that the Ministry would give you a better offer...you could go execute rogue animals for them instead, after the War is over? No? Gibson! Your wife died on the Dark Lords Orders...perhaps you resent his decision?"
As disturbing as each of them may be, Harry didn't even bother mentioning the Lestranges. Both brothers and Bellatrix were unquestionably loyal and worshipped the Dark Lord. With each of the other Death Eaters, however, he had probed their minds while he accused them, knowing that, should they be hiding anything, there was no way they could hope to conceal it from him. None of the rang any alarm bells.
"It seems that our little birdie isn't with us right now," Harry concluded, letting his Legilimency fade away. "But eventually, I'll find them. The Aurors were prepared today...they had many more men than I had expected, and Dumbledore was ready to cast his wards. Someone squealed."
At that moment, there was a huge boom from the direction of Gringotts' front doors, as though someone had tried to blast it down.
"That should buy us at least an hour more," Harry said looking towards the doors. Before he had the chance to continue, there was a small bang and a yelp of pain. He turned to see the red-headed girl he had used as a hostage sitting up from where she had fallen, clutching at her right wrist around which an ugly red burn was quickly developing. A wand – hers, Harry realized immediately – rolled forwards to stop at his feet. With their nerves still on edge and no one else to attack, the remaining seven Death Eaters had all chosen to gather around the prisoner. Despite the conclusive superiority of their skills and situation, however, the only curse sent forth was by Rabastan when he disarmed her.
Harry felt a trickle of annoyance creep into his mind. He had given very specific orders for his people to deal with complications...ruthlessly. Bellatrix had already disregarded his commands several times that night; surely the rest of them knew better? By all rights, the girl should be long dead, killed while he closed the doors.
He moved forwards towards the centre of the gathering, intending to ask just exactly what they were waiting for, but the girl beat him to it.
"W-well?" she snapped, with only the slightest quiver in her voice, "what are you pathetic cowards waiting for? You're going to kill me, right? Hurry up then, I don't like waiting!"
Harry paused, amused. He looked to the Death Eaters, his voice still disguised with as a deep rumble. "Indeed, what are you fools waiting for? I suggest you heed the lady's request without delay...or at least remember my words when I informed you to not delay your decisive actions..."
Bellatrix let out a sort of low growl and raised her wand. Sometime during the fight, she had discarded her mask, which was aesthetic at best since everyone knew who she was anyway, and donned another, a mask of thinly disguised bloodlust and cruelty. "Avada Kedavra!" she intoned, her eyes gleaming, but her aim was thrown off when her husband jerked her arm sharply. The sickly green jet of the killing curse missed by inches, burning a blackened hole next to the girl's leg. Unable to hold it in, the girl let out a gasp and flinched violently.
"Lestrange..." Harry said calmly, his voice quiet and his gaze moving to the girl's face. "I know she's pretty but if that's your only reason for saving her life then..." He left the threat unvoiced, but its implications were clear to everyone in the bank, even the girl, whose expression was now a strange mixture of disgust as well as fear.
Ah, Harry thought, barely restraining a chuckle, it must have something to do with the notion of Lestrange thinking she's pleasing to the eye...
It was true that neither of the Lestrange brothers were good looking, especially after their repeated stints in Azkaban. In fact, it wouldn't have been that far of a stretch to say that they were closer to the opposite ends of the scale, not to mention being thirty years older than the girl. Harry, on the other hand, had been right in guessing that he was quite closer to her age when he was outside the bank, and had to admit that her outward appearance was definitely quite fetching, with her pleasantly pale skin and vibrant red hair. Even covered by dust and a little blood splattered, Harry had the feeling that her flesh would be soft to the touch and her hair silky smooth.
But of course, that was just him, and his words to Lestrange had only been taunting in nature. Whatever the reason Rudolphus had for sparing the girl's life, lust most certainly wasn't it, and the man wasted no time in sounding his opinion.
"My Lord," he said with a small, deferential nod of his head in Harry's direction, "I spared her life because I believe she could be useful in helping us out of our current situation."
"Really, now," replied Harry, not even trying to hide his tone of disbelief as he observed the girl.
"Yes, my Lord, in fact she may prove to be vital," Rabastan spoke up. Harry, who was still trying to work out what Rudolphus was getting at, suspected that the man's brother had caught on already and was trying to claim some of the glory for himself. It was easy to who truly held the power in the family, for though Rabastan was younger, Rudolphus grudgingly became quiet and let Rabastan take the stage.
"The red-hair and the freckles, my Lord, are a dead giveaway," continued Rabastan, releasing his stance to face Harry fully, "There aren't many Witches who look like that, after all, especially around yo- I mean, her age. She is Ginevra Molly Weasley, the only daughter and youngest of the blood-traitor Arthur Weasley."
Harry was now very glad he hadn't killed the girl himself when Rudolphus had stopped Bellatrix. "Arthur's youngest daughter, you say?" His mind was whirring as he considered the possibilities. Though he hadn't met the man himself (his Father hadn't even let him out of the Manor until this Mission), he'd certainly heard of him. All the heads of Magical Law Enforcement were infamous amongst the Death Eaters. There was Crouch, who was actually effective, became Minister of Magic even, before being murdered by his own son, posing as Mrs. Crouch. The head of the DMLE then went to Alastor Moody, who lost a leg and was forced to quit, and now worked directly for Dumbledore's mythical 'Order'. And then it went to Weasley, who had very little experience in the field, and been transferred from the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office or something. Apparently, he was the department head whose job was closes to that of the DMLE, but that was ridiculous of course. The entire ministry was.
His gaze again flicked towards the girl, Ginevra. She was very pretty, beautiful even. How much did Arthur value his daughter? A lot, certainly, but enough to let them go? As the head of the DMLE, he had to be familiar with what Death Eater's did to their female prisoners, after all...not all of them did it, and he certainly didn't, but there would be others who would simply jump at the chance.
The Death Eaters held their positions as they waited for Harry to make a decision. They knew the consequences of speaking out of turn from first-hand experience, something that the Ginevra obviously didn't have, for her words disrupted his thoughts.
"If you're imagining trading me for your freedom, forget it," She said loudly, gazing around at her captors warily, "My father isn't that selfish. All of you deserve to rot in Azkaban for your crimes and who knows how many lives you lot going to prison could save?" Wincing, she let go of her wrist, and struggled to her feet. Harry noticed that her burn was getting worse, but that was quite normal for Dark spells. "So kill me or don't, it doesn't change anything."
"You don't want to bet on that, little Weasley," sneered Bellatrix, her eyes narrowing in distaste, "All that selfless crap can only bring a man so far, and I'm sure he'll reconsider when he learns that Greyback – heard of him? – he's been looking for a new toy recently..."
Harry watched as the girl paled slightly, but other than that didn't react. "It's what you do to all prisoners, isn't it? My Dad doesn't talk about it, but he's seen plenty of examples already. He must've learned about my capture by now and is expecting the worst. No matter what happens, he's going to be glad that I'm still alive, and if I die, well, then I die. You should just give yourselves up."
Harry couldn't help it and let out a snort that drew everyone's attention to him. This small girl, at least a head shorter than him, was wandless and surrounded by men whose morals, especially regarding women, were questionable at best, and she was trying to convince them to give up!
"Miss Weasley," he said silkily, watching from behind the blank eye sockets of his mask for any reaction from her at all, "I'm sure you'll find that fathers can be...quiet open to negotiation. Well, mine excepted, of course."
"Keep her alive," he said to the other Death Eaters, "and in good condition. I believe that the Aurors will be able be able to open a line of communication with us at any moment."
Right on time, green flames burst into life from the fireplace at the end of the room. With a practiced mix of nonchalance and gravity, Harry strode over to greet the visitor, but never got out the words.
"You aren't Head Auror Weasley." He said instead, gazing at the Floo. The man there was definitely not a Weasley. He was bald, not balding but cleanly bald, and a solemn expression was fixed upon his face. It was difficult to tell from the Floor, of course, but judging by the man's appearance, Harry suspected the man he was talking to was dark-skinned, rather than pale.
"No, I'm not," the man agreed calmly, examining Harry's black visage as though trying to commit it to memory, "I am Deputy Head Auror Shacklebolt. The Head of the DMLE is currently...preoccupied."
"Well then tell him to get his priorities straight!" Harry snapped, waving his men forwards. Ginevra was flanked by the Lestrange brothers, who had at some point had tied her hands behind her back, and were gripping her arms so tightly that Harry was sure she'd bruise, but she didn't give any indication that she could feel the pain. "We have his daughter. I don't think I need to say any more."
A flicker of worry passed over Shacklebolt's face, but it disappeared again behind a blank mask so quickly that had Harry not been waiting for such an indication, he wouldn't have seen it at all.
"Are you hurt, miss?" Shacklebolt asked, trying to Ginevra better from his position. At Harry's signal, the Lestranges brought her right up next to him.
"No, I'm-" Before she could say anything else, Rabastan slapped her across the face, eliciting a cry of pain. Harry felt a little of the rage he still had bottled up within him begin to leak and, without a second's thought, whipped his wand through the air, sending the man colliding painfully with the Head Teller's marble desk.
"I said," he growled, looking towards the duo still standing, "that she is not to be harmed! Yet, anyway..." He turned back just in time to see the last vestiges of the stricken expression fade from Shacklebolt's face, and grinned, knowing that no one could see it. If he had any doubts before this, they were certainly dispelled now. Shacklebolt knew Ginevra, beyond the office. Family friend, maybe?
"Now," he said to the Auror in a condescending tone, "Why don't you go fetch the Arthur Weasley?"
Shacklebolt hesitated. The Auror was staring at Harry, and Harry stared right back. Neither flinched; Harry's face was hidden by mask, and the Auror's face was the mask. After a long pause, Shacklebolt broke first, as Harry had known he would. That, after all, was the problem with the so called 'Light' side. They lacked the conviction necessary for war, the ability to sacrifice as many men as needed for the greater good. How could they, when they couldn't even sacrifice one young girl?
"Unfortunately, Arthur Weasley is currently indisposed." Shacklebold admitted, his tone hard. "You should know about it, it was your people that almost killed him!"
Ginny obviously tried not to react, but was only partly successful and the squeak she let out was slightly muffled. Harry ignored her as he processed this information. He might have seen red-hair at some point on someone else other than Ginevra that night, but he wasn't too sure anymore. With Shacklebolt here, it didn't matter too much, anyway.
"Well then I guess I'll just have to deal with you, instead." Harry conceded with an air of reluctance, before suddenly going in for the kill. "But it doesn't matter much, does it? You aren't exactly impartial after all...don't give me any rubbish, you know Ginevra."
He had to admit, Shacklebolt was good at his job. His words didn't even faze the Auror, whose 'surprised' reaction consisted only of a single blink. "Yes, I do. The way I see it, we can help each other here but only if you listen to me. I don't want Miss Weasley harmed in any way. I-"
Harry cut over him easily. "No, no, no. I don't think you understand, Head Auror. I do the talking. You do the listening...and the obeying. If you don't, then I'm afraid Miss Weasley here might be returned to you as...damaged goods."
Shacklebolt looked as though he was about to protest, but seemed to think better of it at the last second and closed his mouth. Harry nodded in approval. "That's better," he nodded in approval, squatting down in front of the fire. "Now, listen very carefully...Miss Weasley's wellbeing depends on it."
"I don't suppose you would be so kind as to let us simply walk out of this room, alive, at any rate. That's fine. Arthur Weasley might have, but then again, Ginevra is his weakness, not yours. I do wonder how, or rather if, he can ever forgive you if you let something happen to his little girl, of course."
"That being said, I'm sure you still have some communication with the Goblins, do you not? Convince them to open the lower levels of Gringotts to us. Let them turn on their defenses, if they want, but their doors will open in half an hour...or dear Ginevra will die. This is an either or situation. No compromises."
"You can't be serious!" Shacklebolt objected, staring out of the fire incredulously. "I can't convince an entire race to bend to you whims for the life of one girl!"
"You will try." Harry told him coldly. "You will try because that girl is your Ginevra. The Goblins will not be defenseless – they can do what they like after the doors are open." As soon as he finished his sentence, he flicked his wand. There was a roar as the fire seemed to suddenly intensify, but a second later it went out completely. On the other side, Harry knew, Deputy Head Auror Shacklebolt would have just been forcefully ejected, and the thought brought a chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He forcefully stopped it from reaching his vocal cords.
Rabastan Lestrange had regained his feet and retaken his position by Ginevra's side. His brother, Rudolphus, hadn't even taken a single step from his. Harry gestured for them to join the other Death Eaters, who had gathered in the centre of the room and treated what few injuries they had during the wait. The Lestrange brothers pushed their prisoner over to row of desks on the left and left her stuck there with a wave of Rabastan's wand. Harry waited until they had joined the circle before he spoke.
"Listen up. The Aurors have blocked our only exit. Dumbledore is there, not to mention what appears to be every single actively Auror, both retired and in service, as well as random commoners that might be part of the so-called 'Order'. Silence greeted Harry's words. All three Lestranges had abandoned their masks, the brothers turning them back into smoke with a wave of their wands, but the others were only doing so now, and couldn't control their emotions nearly as well, exposing their fear and uncertainty, which Harry deliberately ignored.
Bellatrix leapt to her feet from her seated position on the floor, her face alight with excitement and her wand at the ready as though she expected to find a target in the abandoned foyer. "What are we waiting for then?" she asked, all decorum forgotten. "Let's kill as many as possible while we fight our way out!"
Harry's wand twitched at his side. Instead of using it, however, he decided to remind the woman exactly who she was dealing with. Using his left hand, he wandlessly gripped her by the throat and threw her out of the circle in disgust. No one else moved, not even Rudolphus as he heard his wife screech in pain when she landed awkwardly on the marble floor.
"The rest of you fools listen up. You may be the most skilled duelists the Dark Lord's got, but none of us has a chance if we open those doors." Harry informed them flatly, lowering his hand. "Need I remind you that Dumbledore's out there as well? Fortunately for you all, I happen to possess more intelligence than all of you put together! Arthur Weasley has been injured and a man called Shacklebolt has taken over. I've ordered him to open the hidden Vault doors. Get yourselves ready; we can't get out, so we'll go deeper. Any questions?"
There was a moment's silence but before Harry could dismiss them, Gibson stepped forwards slightly. "My Lord," he asked, waiting for Harry's acknowledging nod before continuing, "what exactly are we hoping to achieve by going even deeper into this bank?"
There was a snort, and all the Death Eaters, even Bellatrix who had returned to the circle, turned as one to look towards to source of the sound. Harry, who was already facing her, simply tilted his head slightly to meet Ginevra's incredulous gaze. "Is there something you'd like to say, girl?" he asked calmly, feeling rather than hearing the seven Death Eaters take a breath in anticipation for the punishment they no doubt expected to befall her.
Punishment, however, was the last thing on Harry's mind. He was genuinely curious. He was his Father's soldier. Rebellion against one's captors, he could understand. He had no doubt that if he was ever captured, he would do whatever was necessary to escape, and reject his captors' every command, whenever he could gain from it. Ginevra, however, had absolutely nothing to gain and everything to lose by her continued derision and comments. They achieved nothing for her, and yet she persisted, as though simply showing her disapproval of them was enough for her, uttering words such as
"You're all going to jail, again I might add (except the guy in the strange mask who I've never heard of before, I think), and the first thing on your minds is robbing a bank?"
It was the third time Harry felt the need to chuckle, and this time, he couldn't hold it in. "You don't think very highly of us, do you, Ginevra? I assure you, I am not stupid, and as far beneath me my people are, even they still aren't, either."
"Well you don't think very highly of us, either!" Ginny retorted, obviously referring to her friends and the rest of the supporters of the Light. The Death Eaters began to murmur, and Nott even made to raise his wand, but a look from Harry stopped his motion cold.
"On the contrary, Ginevra." Harry rebutted, walking forwards until he was standing right in front the girl, who, even though she was obviously trying to stop herself, shivered. Harry knew he looked frightening – that was half the point of the mask, the other half being, naturally, to keep his identity a secret. "I quite respect some of your fighters. They are very talented, and dare I say it, pretty intelligent in a few cases. I have great respect for Albus Dumbledore. He truly is one of the greatest Wizards of our age-"
This time, the Death Eaters didn't even try to keep their voices down as they turned to those standing beside them in surprise. How could the Dark Lord's own Heir say that he respected the Dark Lord's greatest enemy? This was a betrayal!
Harry knew that the Death Eaters would be thinking along those lines as soon as he expressed his views, so he ignored them, focusing instead on Ginevra's face, which had almost comically gone slack with shock. She opened her eyes wide, and her mouth was hung open.
"What?" she asked, staring at him uncomprehendingly.
Harry almost raised his eyebrows, but then remembered she couldn't see it. Instead, he said in an amused tone, "I thought I was being quiet clear."
"But...but if you really think that, and aren't being sarcastic," she said as though she was thinking out loud, which she probably was, "why would you be following Voldemort?"
The Death Eaters hissed in outrage, and Bellatrix started to lose control. "Enough!" she shrieked, causing her fellow Death Eaters to jump. "You, little girl, how dare you say the Dark Lord's name? I'll make you pay for that later, I swear it! And you," she said, now pointing her wand at Harry, "how can you say you're the Dark Lord's son and still respect that senile, Muggle lover?!"
"SILENCE!" Roared Harry, running out of patience. Everyone immediately became quiet, every except female Lestrange, who took a breath and prepared to keep ranting. She was stopped by Avery, who hit her with a full body bind. Rudolphus grabbed for her and just managed to stop her from toppling over, but he didn't dare make any move to remove the spell. Had it been the Dark Lord himself, Bellatrix would probably have already died for her words. It was safer to leave her immobilized.
"Now," Harry continued calmly once he had everyone's attention. "Ginevra, you ask how I can follow the Dark Lord? It's very simple, really. Dumbledore's an excellent Wizard, and a great man, but he is by no means the only one, is he? Our world is full of great men. History is full of great men. Would you not call Julius Caesar of Rome great? Stalin, of Russia? Merlin, if you want to look at the Magical World. Hitler was a great man..."
"I know, I know..." he said, holding up a palm to forestall the girls arguments before they could be voiced. "You would say that these men turned bad, would you not? That Caesar wanted kingship, Stalin murdered his own, Merlin tried to help and destroyed a country and Hitler...doesn't need explaining. What matters, however, is how they started out. Caesar fought for his country. Stalin united his, and his orders defended it, even at a high cost, against a seemingly unstoppable enemy. Merlin tried to create golden age and Hitler, for ten years before the war, did bring prosperity to his people, except the Jews of course."
"History judges these men harshly. Take Hitler. He tried to wipe out an entire race, but during his time, many thought he was great. Now, of course, we know that everything about him, even those so-called 'good' ten years, was wrong, in every sense of the word. And he lost, because of it. That, Ginevra, is why I can respect Dumbledore and still remain true to the Dark Lord. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how great Dumbledore is, he's wrong. History will judge him, as well as the Dark Lord, and even me."
Harry didn't look at Ginny to see if she understood. He didn't even understand why he had told her what he did. He knew she was baiting him, baiting all of them, fishing for information and trying to get them to make a mistake, yet he let himself get pulled into that ridiculous discussion anyway.
Well, no more, he promised himself silently. I won't let her distract me from what I need to do to keep me and my Father's men alive. He strode away from the girl without looking back, calling over his shoulder, "Free Bellatrix. The doors should be opening soon and anyone who misses it get to deal with the Aurors."
He moved as far away from Ginevra as possible, positioning him well away on the other side of the room. Picking a random spot on the floor, he sat down, crossed his legs and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift wherever it wanted. He realised he'd ended up never actually specifying what exactly it was he wanted in the depths of the Goblin tunnels, but it didn't really matter. As long as everyone followed his orders, everything would be fine.
The deep rumbling woke him from his semi-conscious state. He didn't sleep anymore, not really, not since he mastered this form of meditation when he was twelve. It rested his body better, sped up the healing process and, best of all, it meant he was able to react immediately to any situation without his mind being clouded by the fog of sleep.
Behind the row of desks normally was a door that led to the Vaults. Harry had never actually seen it, but he knew where it was having studied Gringotts in detail. Since entering the bank, however, the walls on either side had been completely and utterly blank.
Until now. He let a giant grin slide onto his face, free in the knowledge that no one could see it. It had been a long stretch, and quite a gamble, but it had paid off, after all. It seems that Shacklebolt hadn't been able to just let Ginevra die after all, and actually managed, surprisingly, to convince the Goblins to open up. Briefly, he wondered about the possible surprises that the Goblins might have left them, but quickly dismissed the thought. He'd deal with the matter when – if – it came up. For now, he wasn't going to lose a perfectly good opportunity.
The Death Eaters were already gathered at the new doorway, their wands pointing warily towards the darkness. All the lamps that normally lit the way had been put out, and there was nothing to actually light the tracks themselves. To Harry and the rest of the Death Eaters, however, it didn't pose a problem. After all, they were Wizards.
He crossed the room back over to the girl, Ginevra. Her eyes were wide and alert, flicking back and forth between the doorway and him, her face devoid of all emotion as she watched him approach. "T-this is where you people k-kill me, and then disappear, right?"
Harry was mildly impressed that she almost didn't stutter even when talking about her demise. He raised his wand, pointing it squarely at her head. Ginny refused to shut her eyelids, and was watching his every move.
"Avada Kedavra!" He felt the familiar sense of his magic surge through his arm and into the small stick that he held casually in his fingertips. There was a flash of green light, and, completely taking him by surprise, Harry felt a deep pang of regret. He wasn't sure where the emotion came from. Ginevra certainly wasn't the first young girl he had killed. She certainly wouldn't be the last.
Ah, but she was the first that had tried so hard not to be afraid, said a voice inside his head. Harry knew what it said was true. Some died fighting, others begged for their lives, tears running down their face. He had looked upon all of them dispassionately and done what was necessary.
Ginevra, however...she had been faced with certain death, and still tried to act as though it was nothing more than a walk in the park. She had dared to talk back to her captors, insult them, even, and ask questions. Harry, unlike some lesser men and women, didn't practise the art of self-denial. He knew he found her intriguing. He just wasn't sure why.
No doubt, however, her surviving the Killing Curse had something to do with it.
Harry gaped in astonishment as, after the flash had faded away, the girl's eyes were as bright as they had ever been. This close to her, he realised that they were brown, a soft brown that definitely suited her. Then she blinked. Despite himself, Harry took a step back, his wand trembling slightly before he willed it to be steady.
Ginevra cautiously twisted her head, as though she couldn't quite believe she was still alive. She opened her mouth, and Harry's gaze was immediately drawn to her lips when she licked them. She blinked a gain, her brow furrowing in confusion, and tugged at her bonds, grimacing when the rope rubbed against her burn. Then she rolled her eyes.
"Are you serious?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "After all that stuff about Caesar and Hitler, I started to think you might be a tad intelligent, even if you were unfortunately on the wrong side, but now you can't even kill someone properly! Some Death Eater you turned out to be!"
Harry tried to say something, but nothing came out. He heard footsteps, and saw the Lestrange brothers hurrying towards him, leaving the others to guard the doorway.
"My Lord!" Rabastan proclaimed, looking in bewilderment at the tied up, still very much alive form of Ginevra Weasley. "But I heard you say the curse! How is she..."
Unlike his brother, Rudolphus decided to take action instead, probably hoping to gain some favour in return. "Not to worry, my Lord," he announced, drawing his wand and pointing it at the girl, "You must be stressed from directing our actions. We apologize for antagonizing you so, but hopefully I, at least, can partly make up for it by killing her for you in your stead. Avada Ked-"
"No!" Harry snapped suddenly, pushing Rudolphus' wand away. The curse sprang forth and dug a sizable hole in the marble floor, but didn't go anywhere near Ginevra. Both the Lestranges, as well as the other Death Eaters, looked to him in amazement.
"My Lord?" questioned Rudolphus, looking from his wand to Harry and back again as though he couldn't quite believe what just happened. Harry chanced a glance at Ginny, whose expression betrayed her astonishment, and thought about himself, realising that there were at least two other people who couldn't believe what just had happened as well either.
"I..." he said, before coming to a decision. With a flick of his left hand, Ginevra's binds fell away. The girl looked taken aback at this turn of events, but nowhere near as taken aback as the Death Eaters, especially the brothers, who were now openly scowling.
"My Lord," said Rabastan, "might I question what you plan on doing with her? I presume you no longer wish to end her life?"
"No," Harry replied, watching Ginevra as she worked her joints to get the blood flowing again, all the time careful not tm make any sudden movements lest the Death Eaters attack her in response. "She is, after all, still a powerful bargaining chip. Not to mention she could have information about our enemies that would be extremely valuable. We'll take her with us. It is fortunate that my subconscious realised that and caused me to not truly want to kill her. Otherwise the Killing Curse would have worked and she'd be dead, completely useless to us."
The Lestrange brothers looked somewhat sceptic, but unlike Bellatrix, they knew not to argue. Rabastan, however, did make a suggestion, which Harry immediately rejected.
"In that case, my Lord, should we not keep her tied up?"
"Of course not," Harry said, shaking his head, "We have enough to be dealing with without worrying about her safety as well. Did you forget that the Goblins are looking to kill any human that trespasses into their domain? I doubt Ginevra here wants to die any more than we do and sticking close to us is the only way to survive. I'm the only one who knows where we're going, after all. The rest of you will be lost forever under the rocks."
"You understand, don't you, Ginevra?" Harry now said to the girl, waiting for her to nod. "Good. Stay with us then. If you do get lost, we'll let the Goblins kill you. We aren't coming back for you."
"Right," the girl agreed reluctantly, stretching out legs. "Can I at least have my wand to defend myself with? Guess not. Oh well, worth a try..." she amended when Harry and the Lestranges turned to look at her.
A/N: WELL. Sorry for the delay in the update, but good things come to those who wait! This chapter is six and a half thousands words long, when my usual is only four thousand! Although admittedly I don't know how this chapter will go with all my awesome readers, because it is kinda lacking in action but I wanted to start giving insights into Harry's logic and view of the world...what do you guys think? Did I do it alright?
Oh and hopefully I didn't offend anyone with that Hitler comment. I hope you understand where Harry was coming from when he says Hitler appeared like a great man at first - after all, he solved the unemployment problem (that's one example of the things Harry mentions which seems good but is actually bad - the unemployment problem is 'solved' through conscription for the army that Hitler needed). Harry isn't saying Hitler is all good, or any good, at all. He's saying people BELIEVED he was good at the time, that he was doing the right thing, and that he would prevail, and he didn't, because he was wrong. Just thought I'd clarify that point for anyone who might not have understood, so I don't get reported or raged at for insensitivity/racism/Nazism or something :D
Magery, yea, I thought the Death Eaters were kinda useless in cannon, so I decided to give 'em an overhaul under Harry here :P! Glad you like what I've done! At the risk of sounding slightly erm, arrogant? I do have to say that I think I am pretty good at writing action, but I don't think my words about the peaceful times are up to scratch - I don't think I'd be very good at characterisation in those scenes, though I haven't exactly tested it out :D. As for the angsty-hero, well, Harry IS fully evil here, but then again, the samurai used to believe killing oneself could only be done through a complex process of spilling and twisting your own internal organs with a knife! It's all in the eye of the beholder, and whether or not Harry will be angsty, or feel conflicted as the anti-hero...guess you'll have to wait and see! I hope this chapter lacking in action doesn't disappoint tho...and finally, what an AWESOME review! You are great! That was the longest, most in depth and detailed review I've ever received!
marinka, well, there you go. A reason, enjoy :P!
To a guest reviewer, not just love for you father, but I think his world view would be pretty screwed up too, like I hope I made clear in this chapter! What do you think?
14saintsb-ball, you'll have to wait and see! If Ginny does turn evil tho, doesn't that remove any chance Harry has of turning good? GG war over :D...
To all Nesiamema, CrazyWithABook, Sunnyseaforever, who didn't really have a question but left a review, thanks! And thanks for reading! That goes for all my other readers as well, hope you guys are enjoying the story!
Next Chapter - the depths of Gringotts! Possibly a little horror? And most certainly, ACTION galore!
Until next time,
PowerOfOne