The Trio who Returned
Chapter 06
by Technomad
By late that morning, Voldemort was in a towering rage. "What happened to them?" he shouted. Wormtail cowered in a corner, hoping against hope that his master's fury wasn't going to be turned in his direction. "Where did they go?"
Afternoon saw the Dark Lord's attitude change, from anger to real worry. He had sources inside the Ministry of Magic, and elsewhere, and nobody had seen his missing Death Eaters. "How could somebody have taken them down? Nobody knew where they were going, and they were all skilful sorcerers! Could they have all Splinched themselves somehow?"
"I don't know, my Lord. Let's wait a while. They might have been delayed through no fault of their own."
"If they've got a good excuse, I'll let them off the hook. This time." Normally, Voldemort was in the habit of punishing even minor defalcations or mistakes with the Cruciatus curse, but he'd noticed that the ranks of the Death Eaters were getting very thin. Even he could understand the necessity of conserving his strength, and not driving Death Eaters into the arms of the law.
OOO
Harry, Ron and Hermione were talking with Snape, who had been invited over to Grimmauld Place. Snape gave them a rather rueful smile. "You know, this place really suits you, the way you are now," he commented.
Hermione lay back, stretching luxuriously. "Yes, I do find that it's more to my taste than the suburban bungalow I grew up in." She snapped her fingers, and Kreacher appeared.
"Yes, mighty mistress?" One advantage to the changes in the Trio was that Kreacher was now a very fine example indeed of what a house elf should be. One or two demonstrations of vampiric powers had convinced him that his new Master and companions were people he very much wanted to serve.
"Bring Professor Snape refreshments." With a bow, Kreacher disappeared, reappearing with a tray laden with goodies. Snape picked out what he wanted, while Hermione, Ron and Harry indicated that they weren't interested.
At Kreacher's disappointed look, Harry explained: "Look, Kreacher, we know you're a fine cook. However, what we now eat isn't within your grasp. It's nothing to do with you. You're a good house-elf." Kreacher gave them all a beaming smile, bowed, and went back to the kitchen.
Tucking into the food, Snape went on: "In any case, the Dark Lord's down to just a few followers. You have done him great harm, and he's at a loss about what to do about it. Without followers, a Dark Lord's just another evil wizard."
Harry nodded. "Yes, and we've learned a lot about him, too. I've wondered if that prophecy about us…you know, 'neither can live if the other survives' still applies? Do I count as alive or as dead?"
Snape raised one eyebrow. "You know, that's a really good question. I hadn't even thought about that. I wish Dumbledore were still around; we could maybe ask him. Trelawney'd be no use at all."
"That's the problem with prophecies," Ron drawled. Normally, on the nights when Snape came by, he stayed well in the background, letting Harry and Hermione take the brunt of conversation; Harry and Hermione had joked that he was still afraid of Snape taking points off him for breathing, being a Weasley, or existing. "They are generally so vague that they're no real use."
"Precisely! Between ourselves, Trelawney's a loon. She can't help it; I think most Seers are slightly crazy at best. But the Dark Lord is nuts for prophecies."
Harry smiled a very carnivorous smile. "You know, it occurs to me…the bastard attacked my family in the first place because he'd heard part of a prophecy. What if we fed him some prophecies and lured him into a trap?"
Snape's eyes went very wide. "Now, that's a wonderful idea! I wonder how we can feed him false prophecies?"
All three vampires looked very smug. "Oh, believe us," Hermione purred, "that'll be the least of our problems."
Harry could see that Snape was puzzled. "We have an…inside route…into Voldemort's ear."
OOO
Voldemort had never thought that the rat had any talent whatsoever for Divination. Seeing Pettigrew stiffen and begin speaking in a deep, penetrating voice startled him.
"The Boy Who Lived lives now in the House of Black…the Boy Who Lived does not expect attack at the House of Black…at midnight, the Boy Who Lived shall fall to the One Who Rules…the Boy Who Lived lives now in the House of Black…" Voldemort's red eyes narrowed.
"Ah, at last you prove that you're worth keeping around, Wormie!" Mockingly, he patted Pettigrew on his head. "I wish I had known before that you had Divination!"
"What does it mean, My Lord? What is 'the House of Black?'" Pettigrew was equally surprised. As a pureblood, he was aware of his family tree, and never before had any of his ancestors shown any hint or inclination that they had Seer powers.
"The House of Black, fool, is either the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, from which my beloved Bellatrix springs, or the building they lived in, in London. From the way your prophecy was worded, I deduce that the Potter brat and his friends are holed up in his godfather's house. Unfortunately, that place has a Fidelius charm on it, and I have no way to get there."
"However, there are other ways." Voldemort snapped his fingers.
Severus Snape came in and bowed low. "How may I serve you, master?"
"Take me to the House of Black. I know that you know where it is, because you were spying on the whole accursed Order of the Phoenix for me, and you would have to know."
"By your command. Will you permit me to Side-Along Apparate you there?"
"Yes. This once! Normally, I would scorn such a technique, but you can get there while I cannot."
OOO
When the Dark Lord and his servants appeared in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place, it was wrapped in shadows. Voldemort and Snape raised their wands, murmuring "Lumos," to try to see what was around them. Even with two wands' worth of light, there was not enough to penetrate to the far walls.
"Very well, Severus. Let us see where they are." Voldemort stepped forward, only to stop in his tracks at a low, evil chuckle. It seemed to come from all around him.
"Who's there? Show yourself! I am the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and I command you to show your face!" Voldemort shouted. More malign laughter answered him.
"Very well, since you insist," a woman's voice purred. Coalescing out of the shadows, a young woman with bushy brown hair, thick black eyebrows and bottomless black eyes seemed to appear from nowhere. "Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Thomas Marvolo Riddle. Enter freely, and of your own will!" She gave them a very carnivorous smile.
"Show me where Harry Potter is! And I am Lord Voldemort! You will treat me with the respect I deserve!" screamed Voldemort. The Dark Lord's nerves were badly on edge. He was used to cringing subservience, outright hatred, or cowering fear whenever he chose to show his face. Mockery enraged him, but it unnerved him, too.
"Oh?" The woman's thick eyebrows rose, in a comical expression of puzzlement. "And why should I call someone a 'Lord' when he has no followers?" Voldemort whirled, to find himself staring down Severus Snape's wand.
"Snape! You traitor! How dare you betray me?"
"I turned against you, my Lord, when you chose to target Lily Evans! She was my first friend, although I lost her friendship through my own asininity. I swore to protect Harry Potter, and I have done so!" Snape sneered, looking at his former master as though Voldemort was something smelly he'd stepped in on the street.
Voldemort turned to Peter Pettigrew, who was staring at the young woman with an expression of mindless bliss. "Wormtail! Back to back! We can fight our way out of here!"
The young woman made a satiric moue. "Oh, Peter, darling, you don't want to hurt me, do you?" Shaking his head as though in a trance, Pettigrew dropped his wand and moved over to her, where she patted him on the head.
"The anti-apparition wards are up, and you cannot flee, Tom," remarked a tall, lanky redheaded man who came ambling down the stairs. At first, Voldemort was inclined to dismiss him as a total tosswit, but then he saw something in the man's eyes…something predatory, something eternally hungry. He realized that it was the same thing that he'd seen in the young woman's eyes. "But you came here to see Harry Potter, didn't you?"
A familiar voice from behind him made Voldemort's foul blood freeze in his veins. "Well, turn around, Tom, and gaze your fill!" Voldemort stared and stared at his fated enemy. Harry was standing where Voldemort would have sworn nothing had been a few minutes ago, smiling at him.
Not for nothing was Voldemort considered one of the greatest wizards of all time. His wand was in his hand in an instant, as he screamed "Avada Kedavra!" The familiar green light of the Killing Curse arced out…and splashed harmlessly off Harry Potter. He tried it again, on Potter's two companions, and was utterly shocked to see that it worked no better on them.
"Oh, foolish, foolish Tom," Harry purred. "The Avada Kedavra is the Killing Curse…and it can't work on us, because we're already dead!"
"Death comes once to a customer, Tom, and your Death Eaters already killed us! Too bad it didn't take!" The redhead smirked triumphantly. Before Voldemort knew it, his wand hand was gripped in icy-cold fingers, and he felt his finger bones snapping as his wand was pried from his grasp with brutal force.
"Pettigrew! Help me! I, your Lord, command it!" Voldemort's red eyes opened wide with horror as he saw what was happening to Peter Pettigrew. He was standing there, slack-faced, his eyes rolled back in his head, as the young woman battened on his jugular vein. The Dark Lord could see blood dribbling down Pettigrew's robe front from where the young woman's lips were locked on his throat.
Then Voldemort felt himself being grabbed by the neck, in an inhumanly strong grip. The last thing he saw before darkness descended was Harry Potter, with impossibly elongated canine teeth, leaning toward him.
END Chapter 06