A Happy New Year to all of my readers - both those new to Wrath of Merlin and those who have followed it from the beginning, nearly three years ago. The next two or three chapters should be up soon too - I've got a bit of spare time to work on my writing. As always, enjoy.

XVI. The Weeping Man

Ginny

"Okay Ginny, I'm going to need you to pose - just like so…excellent!"

Flash.

"And another…"

Flash.

"One more sweetheart…"

Flash.

"Lovely!"

"All done?"

"Yeah, perfect."

"Thank Merlin," I muttered.

The photoshoot had not been my idea. But it came with the territory of professional Quidditch.

A man in a black overcoat stalked along a tree line under the cover of darkness. His associates called him Raven on account of his hook nose and beady black eyes that glinted in the moonlight.

Leaving the cover of the trees, he approached a tall chainlink fence, easily 10 feet high, and topped with razor wire. A yellow plastic sign stated 'AUTHORISED MILITARY PERSONNEL ONLY' for the benefit of Muggles. All they could see was a shallow quarry. But people of magic saw a bleak, imposing fortress, with high grey walls.

Barden's Keep.

Raven hated this place. He'd served two terms here, before a mass breakout in the Second War that set him free.

Now he was returning.

At least it wasn't Azkaban.

Raven pulled a potion-filled vial, one of several he carried, from his robes and downed it. Moments later, he walked through the razor wire fence and onto the grounds of the Keep.

He held his breath as he approached the portcullis gate and walked through them. The spell that had been placed on him was definitely working, but it was unnerving to walk through walls and past MLE guards as if he wasn't even there.

Raven made his way to the lower levels, where high risk prisoners were kept, passing more oblivious guards on his way. Eventually, he reached his destination.

Cell 33.

Raven drew his wand and murmured the charm he'd carefully memorised as he tapped his wand on the stalwart iron door in front of him.

It opened with a soft click and swung open. A tall, pock-marked man with greasy hair sat cross-legged in the centre of the cell. He looked up at the man with intent eyes and spread his hands in greeting.

"Welcome to my home away from home."

Raven nodded curtly.

"Surprised you didn't wanna get out sooner."

Prisoner 33 only offered a sardonic smirk.

"Dolohov sends 'is regards, by the way."

"Good. Did you bring the potions?" asked Prisoner 33.

"Yep, all of 'em."

Raven unzipped a small case and pulled out five vials.

"Give me the first one."

The prisoner took the proffered vial, filled with a red liquid, and drank it in a single swallow.

"Good. You take the second."

"Me?"

"Just do it."

"What is it?"

"Do you want to get back out of here? Drink it."

Raven did, downing the the second vial, also filled with red liquid.

"Give me the third and the fourth. You take the last one."

Raven handed him the next two vials, and then drank the last one with a grimace.

"Fuck, that's disgusting, that is!"

"You'll live," admonished the prisoner. "It's only Polyjuice."

"Polyjuice?"

33 swallowed the third vial.

"Yes. You're going to look like me."

"How does that help us get out?"

"It helps me."

"Wha-"

Raven's last words were cut off as his throat closed

He collapsed to the floor, legs kicking wildly as he choked to death as his features changed to those of the prisoner's.

The prisoner stripped Raven's body of his clothing, taking the black overcoat and his wand. He then set the body aflame with a whispered Incdendio.

Prisoner 33 stepped out of his cell, and closed the thick iron door behind him.

Finally, he uncorked and drank the last potion.

"Ghastly," he remarked to no one in particular, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Suddenly, his body began to contort violently.

A few moments later, a black tarantula emerged from the darkness and scuttled down the hallway.

Ginny

I had just taken the first bite of my toast when the Owl Post arrived. A large tawny dropped a cylindrical package into my lap.

I ripped the wrapping off the package and unfurled the magazine. There I was, front cover.

GINNY WEASLEY: How Holyhead landed the five-star recruit

I opened the magazine to the inside article.

Ginny Weasley cuts a small but striking figure in her Hogwarts uniform, complete with a shining Quidditch Captain badge pinned to her robes. Impressive in her final victory over Slytherin (which set a School record) as both Chaser and Captain, she received offers from four different League sides looking for new Chasers. Already a well-known figure for her involvement in the Battle of Hogwarts, I sat down with Ginny to talk what we know best: Quidditch.

"Why did you choose the Harpies?"

"The team culture is fantastic. They're competitive for the League Cup, and play my style of Chasing."

I skimmed through the rest of the interview, and set it down to finish my breakfast.

"Can I get your autograph?" Hermione asked, teasing, as she looked over from her Prophet.

I gave her a scowl before taking a voracious bite of my toast.

"Any plans for today? Going into Hogsmeade?" she asked.

I paused mid-chew and swallowed.

"Nothing I need."

"Honeydukes?"

"I'm meant to be getting into shape. Gwenog Jones makes her players run ten miles four times a week."

Hermione made a face.

"Better you than me."

33 shuddered as he felt his body finish its contortions. His experience as a tarantula had not been pleasant.

He flexed his fingers and toes, and blinked rapidly, as if to assure himself he only had two eyes instead of eight. He adjusted the black overcoat he had taken from Raven across his shoulders.

A man, also garbed in black, handed him a wand.

"Creedy," 33 greeted by way of thanks.

"I trust your escape went well?" replied his fellow Death Eater, a lanky man with pinprick eyes and sandy hair.

"It did. Your man was wonderfully dispensable."

"We've made the preparations you requested," Creedy replied.

"Let me see it."

Prisoner 33 was led down two flights of stairs and into a subterranean chamber. In the middle of the chamber stood a marble plinth upon which rested an orb. It glowed an angry red.

"It works?"

"Allow us to demonstrate."

Three men made their way into the room, flanking a Dementor bound in an inky darkness that was as black as the creature itself.

"Since their discovery, it's been believed that Dementors cannot be killed, only subdued with the use of a Patronus," intoned Creedy, "Now we know otherwise."

He pointed his wand at the orb.

"Dominae Nostrae."

A jet of red light erupted from the orb and engulfed the Dementor as the three men binding it leapt away. The light tore away at the Dementor as it gave off an earsplitting shriek of pain. It reached out a skeletal hand that began to dissolve as the red magic eroded the Dementor out of existence.

Prisoner 33 stared intently at the scene.

"A Dementor is a creature of magic. Without magic, they simply cease to exist," said Creedy.

"The magic against magic. Remarkable."

"In the Department of Mysteries, they call it a Nostradamus Light."

"Fitting. I assume the orb is the payload?"

"Yes. It can be launched in a manner similar to a Muggle bomb. Or the energy can be unleashed through an incantation, as you saw."

"Excellent," replied 33.

"What do you intend to do with it?" Creedy asked.

"Anyone who possesses one of these can change the magical world. I want to watch it burn."

Harry

"Suit up, Potter," X said, striding into my room.

"Where are we going?"

"Rhayader. It's in Wales, north of the Beacons."

"When?"

"Ten minutes ago. Intel detected Death Eater activity in the area."

Y joined us.

"We think it might be Julius Creedy," he informed.

"And if we find him, he's mine," X said in a tone that did not welcome argument.

I pulled on my greatcloak, not bothering to question X's grudge against the dangerous and sadistic Death Eater.

We made our way, as we had countless times, to the surface of London. We linked arms as X counted down.

"Three, two, one."

With a crack, we vanished, and reappeared on the outskirts of the Welsh town.

"The farmstead is a few minutes southeast," said X, getting our bearings. "We'll walk."

Shortly, we arrived outside a motley collection of scattered buildings. They seemed completely deserted.

"Anything?" X asked Y, who was scanning the area with wand in hand.

"I don't know. Something is trying to hide here. But…wait. Three people, in that building there."

The door to the building opened without opposition. Everything inside was covered in thick dust. Cobwebs ran from floor to ceiling.

We rounded a corner with wands out, and came across three figures, frozen in place at a rickety table.

"They're dead," Y remarked.

The three men had forced grotesque smiles, reminding me of the clown horror films Dudley had watched when he was younger. Their eyes, wide open, stared blankly at us. It was if they'd been petrified.

One of the dead men held a scrap of parchment in his upraised hand.

Y reached out and took it.

He unfolded it, a frown crossing his features.

"Looking for something?" he read.

A ringing noise sounded suddenly in my ears. I saw Y's face go white.

"GET OUT! NOW!" he yelled.

But we were too late.

The ringing noise intensified as the three frozen men exploded in a colossal burst of dark magical energy.

Creedy walked into the room where Prisoner 33 sat eating.

"I bring good news. The wards at Azkaban have been opened. The fortress is ours for the next twelve hours."

33 nodded.

"We have word from Wales, also. The trap has been sprung at Rhayader."

"Excellent."

"Do not mistake this for doubt, but do you really think this will work?" Creedy questioned. "The rumours of Potter's power alone…"

"Are duly noted. But even Potter is no match for what I have planned for him. The spider's web is closing around his little Operation."

33 bit into a grape, chewing it slowly before spitting out the seeds.

"And once he is trapped, he will find it impossible to escape."

Harry

I came to.

As my vision stopped blurring, I found I could see the sky. The explosion had torn the building to shreds. We lay amongst only rubble.

My head was spinning, three of my teeth were missing, and blood ran from a cut on my neck, and a slash in my chest. The bones in my left arm were shattered, several ribs were cracked, and I was bruised head to toe.

I crawled over to X, then heard a moan from nearby. It was Y.

Aching, I made my way to him and reached out.

"Wait!" Y cautioned.

I paused.

"You can't touch me. If you do, you might get trapped too."

"What do you mean?"

"We got hit by a tomb curse, Harry. I think I bore the brunt of it, but you two might've been hit, too."

The skin on his hands and arms was starting to blacken in a manner similar to Dumbledore's own Horcrux-damaged hand.

"Is X alive?" Y asked.

"Yeah, I can see him breathing," I answered shakily.

"Good," he replied.

"There's an Anti-Apparition shield too. We can't get far enough on foot."

"We can't. But you can."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

Y tried to stand, and stumbled, falling back down.

"Fuck…"

"I can give you enough strength to break through the ward. You can side-along X out of here. Save him. Save yourself. Get far enough away so that they can't follow you."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Yes you are."

"I won't!" I exclaimed.

"Harry, go!"

"We leave no man behind!" I said, frustration in my voice.

"You won't be leaving a man behind. I think what little humanity I had I lost a long time ago."

He drew a ragged breath.

"Get out of here…take X…they'll be coming…"

"We can fight them!"

"We can't. This curse amplifies their strength and saps ours the longer we stay. We won't stand a chance."

"Fuck that! I don't leave anyone. I've lost too many people already."

"Harry, when this began, Kingsley made X and I take the Unbreakable Vow. We promised to protect you at all costs."

"You didn't…"

"You are more important than either of us, Harry. You represent a new hope for this world."

I didn't reply.

"You must go. You can't take me with you."

"You must go."

Y drew a complicated diagram with his wand, and I could feel the magic crackle through the air, creating a temporary gate in the ward.

"Now go. I'll hold them off. You'll have time to escape."

My broken arm hanging limply by my side, I grabbed X's wrist and dragged him across the floor.

"It's been an honour, Harry," said Y, raising a hand to his forehead in salute.

"The honour was mine," I replied, my voice thick.

Somehow, I managed to Apparate, dragging X alongside me.

The last thing I saw was Y get to his feet.

Y.

I struggled to rise, my body aching from the curse that was tearing fire through my veins. I wobbled on two feet, then steadied myself. I felt light-headed. I hawked, and spat blood.

Harry was safe. That was what mattered.

Any moment now, they would arrive.

Suddenly, there came a black flash. About a dozen figures came from the shadows, walking calmly towards me.

I took down the first with a Killing Curse.

"Expelliarmus!"

My wand was torn from my grip, and then a blue curse hit my wand arm, gouging a deep cut. Blood spluttered from the new wound. I gasped in pain. I would not give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

A Death Eater addressed me.

"You're quick, I'll give you that. But you've no chance now."

He grinned maliciously.

"You've caused us a lot of problems. You're going to die a very slow death."

I spat blood in his face.

The Death Eater wiped his face with his sleeve, then jabbed his wand into my gut, and yelled.

"Crucio!"

New pain tore through me, and I collapsed. I felt something rupture inside my stomach. Probably my stomach.

Several others joined in.

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

Spasms shook my body. I no longer had control over my body. I could feel the warm trickle of urine run down my leg. Bile rose in my throat.

After what seemed an age, it stopped.

"Is he dead?"

"Yeah, pity….wait. No. The fuck is still alive!"

"Crucio!"

Rise.

I couldn't.

Rise.

The pain was too much to bear.

A Death Eater let off a spell with a sound of a pistol whip, and a hole burst through my chest.

Rise.

I got to my knees.

Black spots appeared in front of my eyes, and I dropped again.

Rise.

I pushed myself off the ground. A Death Eater flicked his wand at me, and my legs turned to jelly. I fell.

"Why fucking bother?"

"If I'm going to die, I'll die standing," I said, my voice hoarse.

I took shallow breaths as I regained the feeling in my legs.

Rise.

Another Death Eater put his wand to my face.

"Crucio!"

I gasped, ignoring the stabbing agony from my chest. I could smell the wand burning through my cheek. I grabbed his wrist.

The flesh on my cheek was melting.

Rise.

I stood.

They had me surrounded in a circle. now One of the black-robed figures behind me struck me with a stunning blow to the back of the head.

I had lost count of the number of times I had fallen.

I dimly felt a figure crouch beside me, and stick a wand in my ear.

"Fuck," I whispered.

Then I screamed.

My legs kicked out wildly.

Impossible pressure built in my skull.

Fire burst through my brain.

My left eye burst from its socket.

And then everything went dark for what I thought was the last time.

The lightning shocked me back to life.

I could hear voices.

"I think his heart gave out."

"Why'd you curse him like that? We weren't finished."

"Any luck?"

"No…fuck!"

"Not surprised."

A faint groan escaped my lips.

"I don't fucking believe it. He's still alive!"

Rise.

With each breath, blood filled my remaining lung. More blood was running down my face, weeping from my broken eye.

They watched with disdain as I tried to get to my feet.

"'e doesn't fucking quit, does 'e?"

Never give up. Never surrender.

I got to my feet, head bowed, vision still blurry, drawing short, sharp breaths. Blood was gushing from the hole in my chest. I knew my injuries were mortal.

"Why don't you just die?"

"Crucio!"

The curse hit me with a dull thud. Icy needles of indescribable agony pierced through me.

I stumbled.

But this time, I did not fall.

The Death Eater who had disarmed me grabbed me a swung a stunning right hook - magically enhanced - into my jaw. My head whipped around as my jaw cracked. Four, five, six, eight teeth dropped out of my mouth.

But I did not fall.

I raised a hand and reached out at him. A red spell slammed into it, shattering the bones inside halfway up my forearm. It dropped, useless.

Jeering, he snapped my wand in half in front of me.

"What the fuck are you going to do? You don't have a wand."

I forced my face into a sadistic smirk.

"I don't need a fucking wand."

I outstretched my arms, my hand dangling uselessly, and time stood still.

There is a spell that is not taught at Hogwarts. It is not referenced in any of the texts in the Restricted Section. It is not taught, nor mentioned, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Perhaps twenty wizards alive today even know its name.

But it is studied in the Department of Mysteries.

As the strength faded from my ceasing body, I raised my head up into the sky.

I could see the stars, their light calling to me.

They were beautiful.

Broken memories flitted through my consciousness. I could see faces - faces of people I'd saved, women I'd known, and the very few who knew my real name.

They were beautiful.

A tear stood in my one remaining eye. I felt it trickle down my face.

And then I ignited my soul.

Harry

I came to land on a hillside that we'd passed on the way, and crumpled into the grass. X lay beside me. I checked his pulse and was relieved to find it was steady.

"Fuck…" I exclaimed, breathing deeply. I lay in the grass for about ten minutes. Guilt churned inside me. Y was in all likelihood dead by now.

I fished for a small canister attached to my belt. Twisting the lid off, I downed the liquid inside. The potion hit me like a shot of pure adrenalin, and I got to my feet. My body ached, but my strength was returning. I had enough to make it back to the Department of Mysteries. A groan came from the ground. X had regained consciousness. I grabbed another canister, and gave it to him. He took it, and drank gratefully.

"What happened? Where's Y?"

"He's gone…he told me to get out and take you."

"He's still there?"

"I think he's -"

Suddenly, a brilliant, blinding light shot across the horizon, and for a few brief moments, it was bright as day.

And as the light dimmed again, and the world faded away to black, I knew that Y was no more.

"Merlin…"

X's expression betrayed his shock.

"What?"

"I … extraordinary…"

I had never heard X struggle for words. I let him compose himself.

"Harry, what you saw there you'll only see once in ten lifetimes."

"What was it?"

"The best I can describe it is as a human bomb. Y gave his life force into that spell…I didn't think he was capable of it," he answered. His voice was incredulous.

Then, he winced in pain.

"We should go," I said.

He nodded, and grabbed my arm.

Crack.

Something was wrong.

"We're still here," X said.

"I can't break through," I replied, testing the ward.

"Look, in the sky - that red light, it's coming towards us!

He saw it too, and his eyes suddenly widened with an emotion I hadn't seen in them before:

Fear.

"It can't be -"

These were the last words I heard him say.

The red light exploded in the sky above us, and unleashed a livid maelstrom of magical energy with an unholy shriek.

My physical injuries were forgotten as the magic tore through my soul and my mind, leeching what remained of my power from my body.

I fell to my knees as the red light engulfed me.

Stuart Waits had lived in Rhayader his most of his life, and upon graduating Hogwarts had taken up a job with the local MLE office in his hometown. Rhayader had a small and well-behaved wizarding community, and little bothered him. But tonight, something had the town abuzz.

"Ever seen this before, Stu?" Tom, a younger officer asked.

"Never seen anything like it," Stuart replied.

A bright white light shone across the night sky, illuminating it like day. It had flashed up across the horizon only a few moments ago, and for some unknown reason, it made Stuart feel uneasy.

A rustling noise from the fireplace made them turn, and a woman's head popped out from the coals.

"Meredith, how're you?" Stuart greeted.

"Alright Stu. You lot can see the light I assume?"

"Course. I make it that you can see it?"

"Bright as day here in the Beacons. The lads up in Holyhead are catching it too."

A sudden crack echoed through the sky, like thunder, and then the light disappeared.

"Well, that's all well and good then."

"Wait, what's that?" interrupted Tom, squinting at a red speck in the sky. "A comet?"

"Maybe. Fetch the telescope, lad."

"No need, it's getting bigger."

There was a sudden flash that left sunspots dancing in front of his eyes, and when his vision cleared, a new light was tearing through the darkness.

"Merlin's beard!" Tom exclaimed.

"Spoke too soon, Stu," Meredith remarked from the fireplace.

"Meredith, let the Ministry of Magic know that a red light can be seen in the Brecon Beacons and as far north as Holyhead. I'd imagine the Muggleworthy Excuses people will want to cover it up. Freak solar event or something."

"What do you reckon it is?" Tom asked, eye agape at the new, angry red light.

"I don't know, lad. But I don't like the look of it. It's a sinister magic, that's for sure."

A knock came on Kingsley's door.

The Minister frowned. He hadn't been expecting anyone.

"Enter."

A wizard in blue robes walked in, and took a seat.

"Can I speak freely?"

"The room is warded."

"Good. Minister, we haven't had contact from Wrath of Merlin in over six hours."

"They've gone longer than that before," Kingsley replied.

"But they've always informed us that they were going into deep cover. This is different. There was no such confirmation."

"You've tried communicating through all the channels?"

"Yes, and the Muggle ones too."

"Monitor the situation. They might just be preoccupied."

"Minister, I have known X for a number of years. His methodology and tactics are often a source of controversy, even by the standards of the Department of Mysteries, but with respect to operational procedure, he is the very definition of textbook. They are not preoccupied, Minister. They are in trouble."

Kingsley nodded, his face set.

"It is my recommendation that we undertake an extraction mission."

"Do you need the Aurors?"

"No. We'll manage this ourselves. For now."

Harry

Everything was dark when I came to. A black bag had been placed over my head.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse. I ached from the residual pain of the Cruciatus Curse.

"You'll find out soon enough," the voice replied. It was a voice I had heard before, but I couldn't remember where.

I tugged against the bonds holding my hands behind my back.

"Escape is impossible. Don't bother," said the voice.

"Why not just kill me?" I said.

"Death is not enough. You deserve something worse. And your history with the Killing Curse - I'd rather not take the risk."

The black bag was ripped off my head and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I knew where I was.

"No…" I whispered, my eyes wide.