Canon Harry was unhealthily obsessed with his parentage – a common trait of orphans in literature. Now, many of you found it strange that Harry's apparently found closure concerning the Potters. Isn't it strange that he's totally fine with what happened?
Well...
It would be – if he were totally fine.
Alternative title: Obsession
Special shout-out to Gabilian's school of legalese for non-native speakers! Thanks, mate.
Corvus oculum corvi non eruit (II)
One of the other Aurors, a grizzled and wiry man with an eyepatch, was frantically writhing on the floor. His coat, his hair, and even his wand were burning brightly with a strange grass-green fire. Cursing and howling in pain, he desperately tried to suffocate the flames. However, for all his trouble, the voracious fire seemed only to spread further to the naked floor instead of admitting defeat to such mundane matters as lack of oxygen.
From afar, Amy watched her handiwork, mesmerised, her eyes reflecting the green shimmer of the magical fire. Draco and Leo were still battling their assigned Auror. The woman, a Far Eastern witch even more delicate-looking than Tracey, was actually pushing both boys back even though her entire right side, as well as her legs, seemed to be paralysed. Coolly blocking, shielding, redirecting three spells a second, she still had enough time to aim a spell or two of her own for every volley the boys were firing at her, and it took her attackers' combined efforts to deal with each and every one of her answers. Offhandedly, she tapped her right leg with her wand just as another Stunner soared past her. With an almost exasperated look of resignation, she stood up and – to Draco's and Leo's despair and disbelief – switched her wand to her now fully restored right hand.
From one second to the next, every spell of Draco's and Leo's was answered with three or four of hers. The space around the woman's wand seemed to distort and flicker – as if the magic surging from her was too much for the air to take. Just as Draco jumped in front of Leo to shield them both from another Expelliarmus, the floor under their feet was transfigured into hot wax. They both screamed in shock, eyes on the wide-scale transfiguration that was slowly and painfully sucking them in. When they raised their heads again, they beheld a true barrage – a dozen spells or more – heading their way. Valiantly, Leo actually managed to deflect a few more while Draco tried to undo the trap at their feet.
With a hint of a smile, the woman breathed 'Check!' just as the second barrage of spells she had fired at the ceiling during Draco's and Leo's momentary distraction rebounded and hit them both from above. Without even realising what had hit them, they slumped down.
'Make that cross-check!' retorted Tracey, who hadn't remained idle the moment Amy's curse had hit her target. From behind, her hex slammed into the Auror's back.
Harry failed to notice all of that. His gaze was pinned to the last remaining Auror left standing, his eyes flickering from one of Tonks' eyes to the other, unable to comprehend the situation. His own disguise must have been doing its job, however, as Nymphadora – with an angry yell – immediately fired at Harry and Daphne.
She screamed, enraged by the attack on their unprotected flank, hexes and curses streaming from her wand like fireworks.
Daphne just managed to shove the unresponsive Harry out of the way of the spells. 'Get a grip, Harry!' she screamed, returning fire.
'Harry...?' repeated the Auror recruit, momentarily losing concentration herself. Daphne's jinx struck her for the second time, and – yet again – Dora hit the dirt.
Daphne, clipped by one of Dora's Hurling Hexes, was tossed like a ragdoll into one of the many airborne rocks in their backs. She hit the asteroid hard, crying out in pain but still managing to cling to consciousness. 'Finish her!' she yelled.
Harry, who had followed Daphne's trajectory with horror, stared once more at the prone Auror a few dozen yards ahead.
'Do it now!' screamed Daphne, struggling to get back up.
Harry, his wand raised and pointing at the groaning witch on the floor, opened his mouth to utter a spell – but none would come.
'What the hell are you waiting for?!' shouted Daphne once more.
'I...'
He stared at Dora, the witch who had always boasted about her ambition to become an Auror, the witch who had shown him his first few jinxes, the witch who was – just like her mother – one of the most warm-hearted people he knew. He gulped, his wand arm trembling dangerously. As if it had happened just yesterday, he clearly remembered the many stupid jokes Dora had made, how she had introduced herself three times to him, always pretending to be another person. How he, excited about her rare talent and ability, had demanded more and how she had obliged.
It was all coming back to him, a rush of information, a stream of memories, a flood of emotions that – despite the difficulties their first meetings had suffered from due to his trauma – had never in any way been anything but bright and fun and cheerful.
'Harry...?' croaked Dora again, wincing as she rubbed her ribs. 'Is that really you?'
Weakly and without thinking, Harry nodded.
'What's going on here?' Amy, having overcome her fascination with her own curse, had relaxedly walked over. With a look of someone losing interest in a mildly amusing toy, she kicked the still screaming and burning man in the solar plexus, freezing the flames with a wave of her wand. 'Hurry up and finish her.'
'Are you joking?' whispered Harry. 'You know who that is, right?' His mind was numb. Amy had to have recognised her own first cousin, right?
'Of course, I do,' she returned apathetically. 'Now finish her!'
'Amy?' breathed Dora stertorously.
Amadina Lestrange didn't answer. Instead, she casually raised her wand. 'I'll do it if you can't.'
'What are you doing here?!' asked Dora, looking from one veiled figure to the next. In the background, and for now unnoticed by the Auror recruit, Tracey was bending over Draco and Leo, trying to wake them again.
Without another word, Amy fired a maliciously aimed Stunning Spell at the overstrained woman on the ground. Relying purely on instinct, Harry shot a Levitation Charm at the racing jet of red light, causing the Stunner to go wide.
'Harry...?' growled Amy.
Harry looked back at her, his mouth again moving furiously without actually producing any sound at all. Eventually, he managed, 'She's family!'
'She's an Auror!'
Harry, brow furrowed, was unable to see any contradiction between those two statements. Grasping for anything to say, his gaze glided from Amy to Dora, who was still breathing rather heavily.
Amadina, apparently taking his silence for acceptance, produced another spell only for yet another charm of Harry to beat if off course.
'No!' he stated firmly.
Amy finally lowered her wand. She glared at him with a mix of disappointment, anger and – to his consternation – pity.
'Harry?' croaked Dora again. 'What the hell are you doing here?! The Ministry is under attack. How did you even get in here?!'
Daphne, dragging one leg behind her, shuffled over, leaning heavily on Harry's shoulder to rest. 'Harry...' she said compassionately. 'This really, really isn't the time.'
'Daphne?' whispered Dora, bewildered and overwhelmed but still recognising the voice now that the girl wasn't screaming her lungs out. 'What the-! What are you guys doing here?!' she repeated, anger slowly but surely drenching her voice.
'That's none of your business, Auror!' spat Amy venomously, as if the profession was the vilest curse in humanity's history. To Harry, it sounded like 'betrayer by profession'.
Dora's eyes flickered from Harry to Amy, and – for a second – Harry could see that the word really did seem to have hurt. But nary a second later, the hurt and confused witch was replaced by the bristling Auror yet again.
'Answer me! What the hell are you guys up to?! Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is?!'
'Harry, we can't stay here!' Amy pointed out with a snarl – not totally unreasonable, he had to admit.
But seeing reason and being reasonable are not the same thing, and Harry just couldn't think straight right now. Amy was furious, and he knew why. He'd also gone against the plan. Intellectually, he understood all that. But...this was Dora! They couldn't expect him to... Or could they? Clearly, the situation had changed.
His thoughts felt exactly like another Ministry Portkey – a giant, twisted knot he was unable to make head or tail of. 'What are you doing here, Dora?' he chuntered, desperate for anything to say.
'What?! What does that have to do with anything?! I shouldn't tell you, but I'm on a mission. We're trying to find the evil bastard messing with the Lethifolds. I told you I got promoted into another program.'
'She's with Antonius,' translated Amy with a growl.
'You know him? Oh, right, he's been at Hogwarts, looking into the...looking into...looking...' Her voice trailed away, and she had another look at Harry and his friends, her eyes lingering on Harry's obfuscation spell. Then, she vigorously shook her head.
'You guys need to get out of here! I'm...I'm willing to kick it into the long grass, but I'm deeply disappointed, Harry. What madness possessed you to break into the Ministry?!'
'I'm not leaving.' Despite the burning pain in his chest, those words came easily to Harry. He couldn't leave, not just yet! 'Can't you just...pretend you didn't see us?!'
'Harry, I'm an Auror!'
'Yes, you are,' spat Amy with an expression of pure loathing. 'I shouldn't have expected any better, I suppose. Not after that disappointment your mother married. Look how that turned out! Now you're enjoying your little blood traitor lives, denying your own heritage with every breath you take. The writing's been on the wall; you must have sucked treachery with your mother's milk, Nymphadora.'
Dora's nostrils flared, and she managed to jump up from her lying position despite her concussion. Harry just managed to race between the maenadic cousins before the situation deteriorated any more. 'ENOUGH!' he yelled, hands outstretched.
'Harry, guys, don't be stupid! Come with me, I'll get you out of here. Boris and especially Fujiwara are extremely reasonable people. I promise they'll hear you out. As long as you tell us what you were doing down here, we'll see what we can do to keep this low profile!'
Amy snorted, folding her arms. Daphne, standing next to her, was shifting uneasily from one foot to the next.
'I'm afraid I can't do that, Dora.'
'What?! Are you insane, Harry?! You're breaking into the Ministry, into the thrice-be-damned Department of Mysteries! You're committing a crime, you kn-'
'We're wasting our time!' drawled Amy. 'Just obliviate her and be done with it!'
The words floated innocently through the gigantic chamber until – with a rush – everyone seemed to be fumbling for or pointing wands. Harry wasn't exactly sure what happened next and in which order, but by the time he'd blinked, someone had shoved him out of the way again – hard. Landing with a muffled yell on the floor, he looked up to see a dozen lights racing over his head. The hall was alight with shouts, yells, and magic.
No, no, no, no, no...!
He rolled over, dodging a stray jinx – whose he couldn't even tell. Coming to his feet, he pointed his wand at the first person available. It was Dora.
Amy was on the floor, nursing her arm. Daphne, her lip bloody and her robes torn, was panting heavily, kneeling but still pointing her wand at Dora. The Auror recruit didn't seem to have suffered any new injuries.
'STOP IT!' screamed Harry, feeling hysteric. 'All of you!'
'I'm not going to let anyone obliviate me!'
'There can't be much left to obliviate anyway, you gormless bitch!' cursed Amy, holding her bleeding arm, her eyes flashing with intense hate.
Dora raised her wand again. Harry, with a rush of panic, felt his own rise. 'DON'T! I mean it, Dora.'
Her eyes flickered for a second towards his wand. She grimaced but didn't desist despite his threat. 'You won't curse me, Harry. I know you won't.'
'Amy is family, too! I won't let you hurt her!'
'She's behind this, isn't she?!' snapped Dora, as if she suddenly understood it all. 'She made you come here! Bellatrix has always been a sick and twisted person. It shouldn't surprise me her daughter turned out the same!'
'Shut your mouth, filthy blood traitor! How dare you – YOU – talk about family?!' screamed Amy in a fit of rage.
'Don't you see, Harry?! It all makes sense! She's rabid! She's an animal! I know – she must have cursed you! You never know. Maybe she's even put you under the Imperius? I wouldn't put it past that demented madwoman to teach her children Unforgivables. Lunatics, the lot of them!'
The words hurt. The entire world was a thick mist of confusion. Harry felt muzzy, a bedevilled, plummeting fool in an increasingly blurry world that had lost its ground. He was astonished to realise that he was crying. 'I'm not going to let you curse her, Dora,' he repeated, his voice thin and shivery.
The Auror slowly shook her head, her wand still pointing in Daphne's and Amy's direction. 'You won't attack me, Harry. I know you won't. I watched you grow up – you're like a little brother to me!'
'Amy is my family, too! And Daphne...' he growled dangerously.
'I won't harm Daphne! Why would I? I've got nothing against her – you know it! I...I don't know what Amy did to you two bu-'
'I BROUGHT US DOWN HERE – NOT AMY!'
Harry's desperate scream echoed through the solar system, bouncing off asteroids, dancing around Saturn and Jupiter, caressing even the gigantic star at the centre – and yet the words didn't seem to reach Nymphadora Tonks, who stood right beside him. Wilful, she shook her head. 'I suppose you must be confused, Harry. Maybe you believe that, but it's not true! This isn't you! Harry, you're a lovable bookworm! You practically live in that library of yours! Studying some ancient, obsolete, and obscure spell of old – that's you! Breaking into the Department of Mysteries? That's not you!'
'I won't let you hurt her,' he whispered beseechingly.
'And I know you won't hurt me!' she repeated obstinately.
Daphne looked with fear and confusion from Harry to Tonks. 'Harry...?'
'See, no matter how dumb Harry is, even in his weakness, he has worth. Honestly, if I were standing right there in his place, you'd be a vaguely humanoid pile of agony twitching on the floor,' hissed Amy, who – despite her biting words – looked rather pale now. 'But despite his pitifully blue-eyed grasp of the word family, he's trying his best to hold it all together. You, Auror Tonks, are trash by comparison. Human trash! Auror trash! Ministry ass-licking trash! Deceiving, ungrateful blood traitor tra-'
Dora's wand lit up.
'NO!' howled Harry, his heart hammering, threatening to leap from his chest.
He could see it all happening in slow motion: the wand movement, Dora's angry snarl twisting to mouth the incantation, Amy's leering grin as she took satisfaction from seeing this last, greatest treason. He could still make it. He could still react faster. In her anger, Dora hadn't even cast nonverbally. Expelliarmus would do it, he thought idly just as Dora finished the first syllable. Or even a Silencio. Merlin, even a childish Tripping Jinx might throw her off at this point.
He'd learned that one from Dora; it had been his first jinx ever.
It all boiled down to one thing: would he be able to raise his wand against his family in earnest...?
And then the moment passed. Dora's overpowered Stunning Spell hit Amy dead on, slamming her with a brutal thud against the floor. Harry winced, Daphne shrieked, firing a spell of her own at Dora, who casually deflected it back towards the still kneeling second-year, causing her to collapse as well.
Disbelievingly, Harry stared at his wand. It was trembling so hard that any spell of his had an equal chance of hitting either floor or ceiling.
'I knew you'd do the right thing,' murmured Dora softly, gingerly plucking the wand out of what felt like alien rubber appendages instead of arms.
The right thing...
Had he done the right thing? There had been no right thing to choose from! Curse cousin A to save cousin B? This is madness! This sort of thing just isn't supposed to happen for real!
Harry scrunched down, his head a turmoil. It was all so messed up!
Dora grasped his shoulder compassionately. 'I'm sorry. I know this must be hard...'
He didn't even flinch when he saw Dora hit the blinking and confused pair of boys further down the hall with another spell. By now, all the fight had left him. He was kneeling on the floor, Daphne's head in his lap, running his thumb over a smudge on her face, hot tears lashing down.
It was all falling apart!
But could he really be blamed? All his life – or at the very least all his life since his rescue from his gilded cage – he'd clung to the conviction that it was his duty to protect his family. He still wasn't entirely convinced that it wouldn't be better to just keep them all at a distance. Better, at least, they were safe. No need to risk them all. If it were up to him, he might still be doing just that.
But Arcturus had disagreed, as had Daphne – loudly. And what had it all amounted to? Here they were, willing to help him out, lying on the floor, out cold.
Ignoring the lump in his throat, he cast a sad look at Dora, who was busying herself with her comrades. He didn't even blame her. No, if this was anyone's fault, it was his – all his. The Ministry, London, the Lethifolds...
It was all his fault, would always be his fault. And it hurt. Wiping away a few of his own tears that were trickling down Daphne's face, he wondered if it wouldn't be better to not feel this pain, never feel it again. Guilt hurt. It hurt like a constant knife in his flesh that he couldn't rid himself of. Sniffing, he looked upon his unconscious cousin. Maybe Aenor had the right of it after all. But why stop with that one incident...?
'Harry? Where's your last friend? Where's the one who attacked Fujiwara from behind?'
Harry didn't react.
'Harry?! I know there was another one. Don't make this harder on all of us!'
With a start, Harry looked up, confused. 'What?' he cawed.
'Where's the last of your little gang?' she demanded, staring into the dark.
Harry shrugged, unconcerned.
Dora sighed, walking towards him with a sad smile. 'Harry... I know you don't want to betray anyone, but don't you think this is futile? No matter how good you are, you're second years...'
'I can't tell you either way,' he mumbled with a throaty voice. Seeing her eyes narrow, he added, 'I'm not sure what she's up to.'
'Another she, huh? Look, it really isn't my business to tell you what you can and what you can't do, but did you see that curse Amy used on my colleague? If he wasn't such a tough son of a gun, he might have kicked the bucket! And the scars...'
Harry gave yet another shrug. Truthfully, while he was very much in agreement with Dora that Amy had gone overboard yet again, he couldn't bring himself to care about some stupid Auror. He was alive, wasn't he?
'I don't want to hurt your friends, Harry!' pleaded Dora. 'Please, just tell her to come out, and we can get this over with.'
Harry shook his head. 'She can look after herself, and I don't doubt her eyesight is a lot better than yours in the dark. Besides, she knows where the both of us are, and she can hear us talking. What makes you so sure you'll find her first?' With a humourless grin, he added, 'There's almost unlimited cover to lurk behind.'
'If you're resisting...' she began only for Harry to shake his head once more.
'No. You're right, Dora,' he said bitterly. 'I'd never be able to attack you for real. And Amy was right, too – in a way. You believe in your duty as an Auror.'
She grimaced, her watchful eyes on the lookout for any movement in the slowly approaching cluster of space-rocks. 'You did break into the Ministry, Harry,' she muttered reproachfully.
'I'm not denying it. Do what you must – as shall I.'
'Harry...?' she growled angrily. 'What are you planning?!'
'Nothing,' he spat earnestly, almost retching from the words. 'I shall do nothing – however this will play out.' In a softer voice, he added, 'It hurt, you know, watching you brutalise Amy.'
'She would've done a lot worse to me!' protested Dora.
'I don't doubt that,' agreed Harry in a calm fashion, wiping his eyes. 'But that's not the point I was trying to make. I suppose I've always entertained thoughts of being all-responsible for my family – until you so harshly disabused me of that notion, of course.'
There was no accusation in his voice. There was only guilt, regret, and pain. 'It seems,' he explained, eyes misty, 'when my family fights amongst itself, I might not be able to do anything about it.'
'I'm your cousin,' disagreed Dora. 'I'm sorry about Daphne, I really am. I'm even...sorry how it turned out with Amy, but I'm your cousin, Harry. Not that other girl you dragged along!'
Harry shook his head just as he saw another figure sneak a glance from behind her cover. You're out of luck...
He looked at her, smiling apologetically. 'I'm sorry, too.' Her lively eyes seemed confused – and then her body gave a jerk, collapsing silently at his feet.
'Why is it that I have to put out so many people from behind whenever I'm with you...?' grumbled Tracey, lowering her wand.
'Maybe because you're actually smart? Unlike me, it seems...'
'No arguing there!' she returned with a scoff. But it didn't seem very scathing. 'I was half convinced you'd warn her any second.'
Harry averted his eyes. 'I couldn't have done that any more than I would have been able to stop Dora from beating Amy...'
'...Really?' she demanded suspiciously.
'Really.'
For a few seconds, Tracey mulled over his words, her brow furiously wrinkled. In the end, she squatted next to Daphne, avoiding his eyes with the same awkwardness he felt. 'Will she be okay?'
Harry smiled a bit at her words, fondly remembering Daphne asking him the very same question. 'She'll be fine,' he echoed the words from his memory. 'I don't know what hex that was she slung at Dora, but I can't find anything wrong with her. She'll pull through. She's the toughest person I know.'
'She's tenacious,' agreed Tracey with a smile.
'You have no idea...'
He left Tracey to care for her best friend. They couldn't stay here. For now, he needed to take control of the situation again. Leo and Draco had, by his estimate, both been hit by a few Stunners. Harry was grateful both female Aurors had exercised that much restraint. They wouldn't be able to fight again in a while – at least not at their best capacity. They weren't, however, what worried him in any case.
Amy, looking unaccustomedly pale, had a deep gash on her arm, a bruise on the back of her head that was painful to look at, and several abrasions that would hinder her movement. At least her breathing was even.
Harry felt drained – even though he was arguably the only one out of their group who hadn't done any fighting at all. But his stay in the infirmary had left him weakened, and this entire mess with his cousins had taken its toll.
But he couldn't allow himself to rest just yet. Gritting his teeth to keep concentrating, he gently rolled up Amy's sleeve. Expressionlessly, he stared at the cut that had managed to damage her radial bone. As gently as he could, he cleaned the wound.
'Harry...?' Amadina uttered weakly when he was finally finishing dressing her wound.
He nodded, not daring to say a single thing.
'You're such a blockhead.'
'I'm sorry...'
'Don't apologise! You did what you thought was right, didn't you? But what about her? Did my valiant sacrifice inspire you to take revenge for me?'
Harry snorted. Was Amy trying to make him feel better or taking the mickey? He could never be quite sure with her... 'No, Tracey put her down from behind.'
'Ah, yes – the Slytherin Special.' She gave a sharp laugh – at least until she winced. Slowly, she ran her hand over the back of her head.
'You fell,' he explained, conscience-stricken. 'I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about your concussion right here...'
Amy shrugged, and – with some cussing and support – managed to stand, nodding grimly. Patting her on the back with one last uncertain smile, he walked over to the two other Aurors. The man had been rudimentarily bandaged by Dora, but he was still completely out of it. The woman, on the other hand...
'What are you going to do to us?' she asked softly, her dark eyes fearless and stoic.
She couldn't move, Harry realised. With a frown, he bent over to have a closer look.
'You needn't concern yourself with me,' she said with the hint of a smile. 'Your associate got me with a hex that interferes with my nervous system, as I told your cousin already, Harry James Black. What are you going to do to us?'
It was remarkable how calm the woman was. She just lay there, staring at him through her slanted, obsidian eyes, awaiting his answer with all the world's dignity. He had never quite seen a person remain so calm when so utterly at an enemy's mercy. It was fantastically quixotic.
Their eyes met. 'Thanks for only stunning my friends,' he said. 'I know you could've done a lot worse.'
'I don't stand to gain anything by humbling rebellious school children,' she replied evenly.
'No... I suppose you don't.' Harry hesitated. Then, coming to a decision, he said, 'Dora was never any good with delicate spells. I'll have a look at your comrade to see if his skin can be saved.'
'...What is it that you want?'
'Ms Fujiwara, was it?'
The woman didn't respond.
'Dora has never been the subtlest person either,' said Harry with a bitter fondness that stung.
'I suppose that's true,' replied the Auror with a sigh.
'I need information, and you're going to give it to me.'
'Am I...?'
'Ms Fujiwara, I want to know which room the Lethifolds are coming from.' Noting her blank expression, he impatiently waved his hand. 'I know! Please spare us both the indignity.'
'What do you want with them?'
'I want to shut the connection. That's all. I'll finish this, and then we leave. You have my word.'
'The word of a boy who invaded the Ministry and ambushed a group of wounded Aurors?'
Harry shook his head. 'The word of a boy trying to desperately fix what he messed up.'
She stared at him, unblinking. 'You did not need to tell me that.'
'True, but I'm going to obliviate you in any case.'
'You just want to convince me?'
'If you've heard of my family at all, you'll know that we always try honesty first. So let me be honest, Ms Fujiwara; I'm not an accomplished caster of the Obliviation Charm. I can either remove your last few hours or days or...quite a bit more.'
She looked away. 'Ah, yes. My captain warned us about that. I suppose that was you in London?'
He nodded. 'Tell me what I need to know, and I promise I'll only remove approximately three days of your memories – just to be sure.'
'How chivalrous,' she remarked dryly. 'How will this information benefit you anyway? I'm sure you've noticed my colleagues are currently fighting another intruder – one rather more intimidating than a band of unruly adolescents. What makes you so sure you can get past that person? It borders on a miracle that we're currently having this conversation – the attacker was devastating the room two doors further down.'
'Nothing,' he answered immediately. 'I'm aware we would never have been able to overwhelm you three in a fair fight. Even with Dora being a recruit...'
'Are you sure you can stop them coming back?'
'No.'
Her eyes looked him up and down. 'You really don't like lying, do you?'
'It's nothing gallant, I assure you,' said Harry with a smirk. 'I'm just convinced that I'll be able to get what I want by playing nice. You're not the type of person to give in to more primitive approaches.'
Another long sigh escaped her lips. 'You're so unlike your cousin. What you seek is in the room four doors to the right from this one; it's the Death Chamber. Your Unspeakables research magic and its connection to death in that hall, though even we're not entirely sure about their studies. Our Colonel and a few specialists theorised that the arch at the centre might be a gateway of some sort.'
'Thank you.'
'If you are indeed grateful, show my colleagues the same kind of mercy I showed yours.' She closed her eyes. 'Do it, then! Until our next first meeting.'
Harry brought his wand to her temple, unable to prevent himself from feeling admiration for the woman at his feet. 'Obliviate!'
True to his word, he briefly inspected the man's burns. With a sigh, he cast what few charms he knew that might help him before wiping his recent memories.
Leo and Draco had, by now, got to their feet again, wobbling dangerously but conscious at last. His friends had gathered around Daphne, who was still out of it, and Dora, who lay next to her.
'What are you going to do about this one?' said Amy, nudging Dora with her foot. 'I think we've firmly established by now that you'll be unable to wipe her memory.'
Harry tried to think of a solution, his brow furiously wrinkled. Just when he was about to open his mouth, Tracey interrupted him, 'No, we can't just leave her be! Snap out of it, Harry!'
'But-'
'I won't allow it!' Amy had crossed her arms. 'I respect you, Harry, though Merlin knows I don't exactly know why right now. But I won't allow you to endanger your entire family because of your blasted indecisiveness.'
'How about we, you know, take her back with us? Can't we stuff her in Daphne's trunk or something?' proposed Leo, still looking dizzy.
'But they'll notice we took Tonks specifically!' protested Tracey. 'Those guys aren't idiots! They'll realise there must be a connection!'
'Man, Harry,' said Draco, looking solemn, 'are you sure you can't just...?'
'No!'
'But she won't even be harmed...! She won't even know you did something to her!' he argued.
Harry shook his head. 'I'll know.'
Amy grumbled angrily, gingerly running her hand over the back of her head. 'Whatever. Harry, you get Daphne's trunk. I expect you're about the only person she had exempted from any protection it has.'
Harry glanced at Tracey.
'I'm not sure if her mother included me, but I'm damn well sure she included you. Just do it, Harry!'
'Okay, okay...' Flicking his wand, he summoned Daphne's trunk from within her robes, and a few minutes later, they'd gently stored Dora's currently lifeless body within. Harry had made sure she wouldn't be wanting for air and Amy that she wouldn't get away. Without another word, Harry pocketed the trunk.
'It's been really quiet for a while, hasn't it?' remarked Leo.
'Do you guys think the fight is still going on?' asked Tracey nervously.
'I hope it is!' Amy, thoroughly battered as she was, seemed to be itching for a fight – same as ever.
'It doesn't matter if it is – at least not to you guys. I'm sending you home,' declared Harry firmly.
'What?!'
'Are you sure about that, Harry?'
'Don't be a freaking idiot!'
'Thank Merlin!'
Harry raised his hands, looking at his three rebellious and one grateful co-conspirators. 'Look, Daphne is wounded, and I don't know what hit her. But we can't just leave her here!' He shook his head. 'I won't leave her here. Draco, Leo, Amy, you guys aren't in any state to fight right now.'
'You don't need to convince me, ma-'
'I can still fight!' hissed Amy, gripping his arm tightly.
'Leaving you here alone seems wrong,' agreed her brother. 'We should all see this through together!'
'How will you even get back?' asked Tracey. 'We only have that one Portkey!'
'I'll find a way...'
'You really are a blockhead. But you know what? Joke's on you; you can't order me to leave! I don't give a rat's ass!' Amy glowered at him, crossing her arms in challenge. 'I won't run like a frightened Hufflepuff just because of a bruise and that little scratch!'
'Your wand arm is useless, and I know you're barely standing straight!'
'So what?! I'll fight with my left! I'll bite those Aurors if it comes down to it!'
'I'm not questioning your grit-'
'Oh, but I'm questioning yours!' she snapped, turning away.
Harry's eyes darted towards her brother, but Leo only shrugged, mindlessly wiping a bit of dust from his robes, leaning heavily on his sister. 'No, Harry. I admit it doesn't seem clever to go on, but – if I'm being honest – you haven't exactly proven yourself to be clear-headed tonight. I'm not gonna lie; I still see everything at least double, and I can't hear anything in my left ear. But leaving you alone seems foolish to the point of idiocy.'
Harry grumbled, running his hand through his hair in distress. That even Leo was disagreeing was a bad sign. 'Listen, do we have any other relations that recently started becoming Aurors?' he demanded sarcastically. 'You guys don't need to tell me that I messed up; I know that! But it's different with others! You all should know best that my family comes first for me! Do you really think I'll throw down my wand or freeze up when the next random Auror appears?!'
Leo frowned. 'I didn't mean to question y-'
'Did Rodolphus or Bella recently apply for Auror training, Leo?' he hissed. He could hear Amy's snort even though she was still looking away. 'Or your parents, Draco?!'
'Leave me out of this!'
'Or has your mother – perchance – recently transferred departments, Tracey?'
'Er, no?'
'Seems to me, the chances of me running into another person I know aren't exactly astronomical! I know I messed up, and I'm sorry! But will you please be reasonable? I can't take you with me when you're dazed like that!' Before Leo could raise his voice, he added, 'And hiding here is out of the questions with Aurors potentially coming from both sides!'
Disgruntled, Harry glared at them reproachfully, slightly out of breath from his tirade.
'Fine! But if you die down here, I'll find some way to make you come back. And then I'll murder you again, Harry!' growled Amy.
He understood that to mean 'be careful'. The Lestranges always had a way with words.
Draco seemed to reach the same conclusion. 'You don't need to be so mean. We know you care!'
She shrugged, turning around just enough for them to see her rolling her eyes. 'Whatever. I'll still murder you if you die!'
Harry watched them gather around Daphne. Leo, he noticed, was still looking rather unconvinced. Tracey and Amy seemed to be having a heated discussion held in whispers, too.
'Wait for me in Hogsmeade. We'll walk back together.'
'Even the Shrieking Shack would be better than this madhouse,' grumbled Draco.
'Will you finally shut it?!' hissed Amy.
Draco's mouth snapped shut like a spring.
With exaggerated care, Harry placed the Portkey in Leo's hands. When all of them had shuffled closer to place a finger on it (and had Daphne do the same), he tapped the Portkey with his wand.
'Be careful, Harry,' said Leo as the cube began to shimmer again.
'I will.'
A bright flash – and gone they were. One problem less. If Harry was being honest with himself, he was particularly glad to have Daphne and Draco out of here – if for slightly different reasons. Now, he would be able to hopefully fix this mess and sneak out. Bringing Daphne along, specifically, had been an incredible risk in the current political situation. But how was he supposed to say no to her...? Now, there was just one last issue remaining.
'Tracey...?' he growled angrily.
The little witch stood exactly where the rest of his comrades had left the Ministry's premises just a moment ago, impenitent, brazen, and grinning. 'Oops!' she said, again mimicking his tone from his earlier misstep with the Portkey. 'My finger must have slipped.'
'What the hell?! What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?'
'Well,' she replied calmly, 'I see your point. Getting the siblings, Daphne and – Morgana! – Draco out of here was smart. But I'm not wounded! And,' she continued, taking a few steps as if the discussion had already been done, 'while I'm sure my mother will scream at me for days if I get found down here, I'm even more convinced that she'll never forgive me if I leave you alone with this mess. Besides, we started this together, didn't we? You always pretend that it's all your fault, but the idea with the runes was mine. Mine! I need to do this just as much as you, and you don't have the right to tell me otherwise!'
Harry groaned, massaging his temple. 'Why are all the girls I know so obstinate?'
She smiled brightly. 'Because you're a wimp! We're here to tip the scales and save the day!'
'Let's...let's just get on with it. We've wasted so much time here already...'
'We?! Wasn't it you who decided to heal the Aurors?'
'Never mind that – come on!'
~BLVoD~
'Homenum Revelio!'
The wand jerked in their direction for a second, but nothing else happened.
'It's clear, come on!' Harry whispered. He flicked his wand at the door to mark it temporarily and was about to step out when Tracey grabbed his robes to hold him back.
'Wait! Do you hear that?'
'Hear what?'
For a few seconds, he stood completely still, concentrating hard. There was...something.
'Some sort of...sizzling?' he surmised.
'Yeah. Let's be careful.'
Sneaking around the corner, they found the Room of Doors as empty as they had left it. In fact, the room was now – suspiciously – even emptier than before.
'Where's the Auror Daphne took down?' asked Tracey, voicing his exact thoughts.
'I don't know...'
Harry looked around. There was no sign of another battle. The only damage to the floor was exactly where his cousin's curse had blasted the man into the room. Then, his eyes fell on one of the doors.
'What in Merlin's...'
Eyes widening, he took a few paces towards the slowly swelling sound of crackling. One of the doors appeared...off. A vague but urgent sense of danger radiated from it like heat – very much like heat! Now that he stood closer, Harry could make out a very well-hidden symbol etched into the door. It was a bird in flight, struck through.
'What is it?' demanded Tracey, refusing to take a step further. 'It feels...dangerous!'
'There's a curse on that door. And not just any old curse,' said Harry, lowering his eyes to the floor. He took one last step forward. To his surprise, he heard a very soft crunching under his soles. A thin film of black dust covered the dark marble – almost invisible in the twilight of the room.
'Ash...' he muttered. 'I have no way of knowing for sure, but I'd bet anything that's the exit.'
'What makes you say so?' asked Tracey, taking two very reluctant steps towards him.
'I believe,' he said expressionlessly, gesturing towards the floor, 'I've found our missing Auror.'
Tracey blanched. 'So, er, no going back that way?'
He shook his head. 'No. I'm sure you can feel it too, right?'
She nodded fervently.
'This is among the worst kinds of curses I've ever felt...' He continued, backing off. 'And I've got no clue whatsoever what it is. The way is barred.'
'Doesn't matter anyway, I suppose,' she said. 'We've still got your Curtains of Doom to worry about.'
Harry turned around and rolled his eyes at the petite witch. 'Doesn't that just express the urgency and seriousness of our situation...?'
Wand held tightly, he marched over to the entrance four doors to the left whence they came.
'We'll have a careful look inside. Should we meet Aurors or this mysterious attacker, we'll try conversing first. If it becomes apparent that talking will get us nowhere, we'll strike out whenever an opportunity presents itself. Understood?'
'Okay,' she said, nodding jerkily. 'And what if it comes to open battle...?'
'I'm better at defending, so I'll try to cover the both of us. You do whatever you think you can do. That hex you used on the woman would be a good start. Dora seemed unable to dispel it. What was that, by the way?' he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
'Oh! Well, that's, er, well,' she mumbled, avoiding his eyes, 'well, it's a hex to, er, paralyse muscles...and such. Mum taught it to me for if I ever had a problem with...you know...someone being...forward.'
Harry frowned. 'Did anyone try to coerce y-?'
'What?! No! Sweet Morgana, no more talking about this, okay? My mother's paranoid, that's all. It's a family trait, I'm told.'
Harry snorted. 'Anyway, you attack, I cover. Alright?'
'Alright.'
He was just about to charm the door open when Tracey called out to him again. 'Harry...?'
'What is it now?'
'I...need to apologise.'
He just looked at her, waiting for comprehension to dawn.
'I, you know,' she continued, fiddling with her fingers, 'for my behaviour earlier this year. It's just...I never expected us to have any contact at all! Not like this! It's...awkward.'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'We're not going to die, you know. We can talk about that later!'
'I know,' she said, speaking fast. 'It's just... I want it out of the way. This doesn't seem to be the most sensible thing to do, and it's weighing me down!'
Harry lowered his wand. 'I never expected it to turn out like this either. Daphne must have been born under some kind of miracle star.'
'Got that right!' agreed Tracey with a grin.
'But for all it's worth – I'm glad you're here in the open with me,' he said with a smile.
Her narrow brow furrowed in confusion as if she was unable to understand his words. 'Are you lying to me to make me feel better?' she asked suspiciously.
'No. You've saved my skin a few times this year alone, remember?'
'Anyone with half a goblet full of common sense could've done that,' she grumbled, her expression unreadable.
'Well, I'm glad it wasn't just anyone, then.'
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. 'You're still getting better with that whole talking to girls thing!'
'Yes, apologies for not remaining a stuttering wreck of nerves all the time.'
'You've got to admit it was kind of funny how you'd always hide in the deepest corner of your library whenever someone came around for a visit!'
'For you maybe...'
Tracey laughed, looking a great deal less tense. Harry stood there, weathering her amusement. It really was a small price to pay to get her to focus.
'Ready?' he asked again when he figured that she'd enjoyed herself long enough at his expense.
She nodded, still grinning that blithe grin of hers. 'Ready!'
Harry raised his wand.
~BLVoD~
Teasingly slow, the marble passage swung open, the rocky portal grinding over the stone, giving way to a chamber that eerily resembled the lower courtrooms Harry had seen in Arcturus' memories. Descending rows of ancient, worn benches of stone surrounded a central pit, not unlike ancient classical architecture. In its focal point stood a crumbling, immemorial arch of some inconspicuous stone, hung with a long, dark piece of cloth.
The air was dry and mouldy, scratching Harry's throat. The entire chamber appeared to be millennia-old, untouched – perhaps untouchable. Stone, air, even light – all of it projected stillness.
And yet, the curtain fluttered ever so slightly in the non-existent breeze.
It was fascinating.
A shiver ran down his spine, and Harry shook his head to shake off the daze. 'No signs of any battle,' he whispered. 'There's some amount of cover, but I can't make anything out. You?'
'No. It doesn't look like anyone's been here for...centuries!'
They peered into the gloom, waiting for unspeakable horrors, shades, or men to lunge at them. But there was nothing – only the soundless fluttering, the eerily hypnotising movement of the entrancing rag that so gently caressed the auld arch. It was alien but, for some reason, also alluring. It made Harry want to feel the cloth run through his hands, stroke the ancient passage, feel the age of time with his own-
'Harry?' Tracey had grabbed the sleeve of his left arm.
Confused, Harry noticed that he'd stood up and begun walking down the steps. Again, there was that feeling of ice sliding down his spine. His eyes widened. 'Merlin, that thing is dangerous,' he breathed.
Tracey let go, looking at the dais with twinkling eyes. 'It's kind of beautiful though, isn't it...?'
Damn it! Harry shook her until Tracey too regained her senses.
'What the hell is that thing?!' demanded Tracey in a shriek, looking anywhere but at the centre of the pit.
Harry didn't answer. He was busy rummaging in Daphne's trunk, feeling only slightly guilty. Trying to avoid any clothing or other items of personal nature, he eventually produced two silver knives. Good thing she has such excessive stock of anything to do with Potions...
Taking a sharp breath, he grabbed the blade of the knife with his left hand – and squeezed. He suppressed a wince as he felt the edge dig deep into his flesh. Ignoring the blood flowing freely from his hand, he cast another cautious look at the arch in the centre.
It was still there – the haunting sense of forced curiosity. But, with the pain, it was more like whispers in the back of his head; he heard them, but the cry of his pain dulled their demands.
'Here,' he said, handing Tracey the other knife. She looked at him in question until she noticed the second one in his left hand. All the world could have spotted her reluctance, but she didn't complain as she tightly gripped the knife with her right – and that's what he liked about any of his friends; despite how girly Daphne and Tracey could be at times, they weren't squeamish.
'Better?' he asked.
She nodded, gritting her teeth, but looking at the centre of the room without any signs of befuddlement. 'Let's get this over with, please.'
Leaving a trail of drops of blood in their wake, they cautiously approached the dais. The closer they got, the more tightly Harry gripped the blade until – when they finally stood in its commanding shadow – he could feel the blade chip away at his bone. But no amount of agony could rid himself of the whispering.
Tracey appeared to have tears in her eyes, and he had a very good guess why. 'Don't let up! It'll bleed more if you do,' he managed to utter, his voice quivering slightly.
His companion was pressing her lips shut as if trying to prevent herself from crying out, yet she still managed a jerky little nod.
Inch by inch, his hand slowly approached the wafting curtain.
'…'
The murmuring, only static and indistinguishable noise before, seemed to condense, intensify.
'… – …'
Every half inch he pressed forward felt like a hundredweight of cold pressure resisting him. In a mundane sense, it was easy, so very easy, to push forward, but something in his subconsciousness was fighting him with tooth and nail.
::: – – – :::
'What are you doing?!'
Cold sweat running down his neck, he pressed forward as strongly as he dared. He needed to know for sure! Then, the moment came; any more, even the slightest bit more and he'd touch the veil, and Harry, despite the pain and rattling silence in his mind, had very reasonable reservations about that. With a grimace, he readied himself to push further.
:::-le Thoughtling!:::
A thousand icicles pierced his spine – at least that's what Harry dreaded for a second. He yelped, jumping back several feet, drawing short and desperate breaths.
'Morgana, what's going on?!' Tracey, who had jumped in surprise at his sudden motion, ran over, supporting him. Harry's legs felt like matchsticks. 'You're as white as snow!' she added.
'It's them!' he wheezed. 'It's the arch, alright. We need to hurry!'
'How do you know for sure?' demanded Tracey. Unable to support his entire weight any more, she carefully helped him sit.
'The voices...'
Tracey froze, her eyes widening in horror. 'You hear them, too?!' Her voice was but an arid breeze in the dead air.
Harry, still panting and feeling as if he'd gone through a week of flu, nodded.
Tracey stared at him, her expression frozen in fear and disbelief. 'They speak to me,' she confessed. 'They mock me! Taunt me for my weakness. They haunt my dreams! I...I didn't want to say anything because I knew I was sleeping, but it all seemed so real...'
'It was real. You're...uniquely vulnerable to them. In the same way that we're singularly safe from them – in a way.'
Tracey gaped at him, unable to comprehend his babbling. 'What do we need to do?! The runes didn't work last time!'
His vision was spinning, but Harry – in a fleeting moment of clarity – understood why his previous attempt had been lacking. 'Because...because we neither chose the right spot – nor ''ink''.'
'Ink? What does ink have to do with anything?! Harry, are you feeling alright? Daphne should have a Pepper-Up in that trunk of hers...'
'Listen!' he said, slowly calming down again. 'Listen, Tracey! The spell, the original spell I used to call them forth, a required component of the spell was blood. I always focused entirely on the blood of Lethifolds, believing the reason for the rarity of the spell to lie in the sparsity of the resource! Lethifold blood is a treasure beyond Galleons! I've never heard of it being for sale at all!'
'How did you get it, then?!'
He was about to steer away from the question, but then he looked into her eyes again. Damn her! 'The Blacks, in times long past, managed to capture one, or acquire a captured specimen – it matters little.'
With a sharp intake of breath, Tracey asked in a high pitch voice, 'You've got a live subject lurking under your floor – in Wales?!'
'It's...difficult to explain, but it's long since expired. Listen, that's not important right now! What's important is that one of the Blacks of that time managed to study the creature for a time. He sought a way to communicate with it, harness it.'
Tracey, who had been in the process of raising her voice in outrage again, stopped moving.
'As you might surmise, he succeeded – but not without cost.'
'At what cost?'
'The spell I used is the only barely functioning result of his studies...'
'What cost?!' insisted Tracey again.
Harry stared at his left hand, where the blade was still cutting painfully into flesh and bone.
'Harry, what cost?!' repeated Tracey shrilly.
'…He had to taint his own blood with the essence of his subject…'
Tracey, following his gaze, stared at his wounded left hand with open revulsion.
'It could've gone a lot worse,' added Harry in a haste. 'Thankfully, it didn't have any real side effects.'
'...except the whole speaking with and being haunted by eldritch horrors thing,' remarked Tracey dryly.
'Yes, well, alright there's that. They...seem to recognise true witches and wizards of Black descent as, well, inferior...relatives? If I'm being honest, he, er, died soon after some other tests, leaving more questions than results behind, and the family decided to shelve that research...'
'Oh, really,' she said with a sarcasm as biting as the knife hurting his palm. 'Shelved it for good, did they?'
'Well, you know the Blacks don't outright forbid the application of any magic – it's more of a...suggestion, really. And I thought reading up on it couldn't hurt, and you know...well...' his babbling trailed away feebly, quailing under her judging glare.
Her eyes were almost burning. 'We'll talk about that later,' she hissed, and Harry understood that to be equal parts promise and threat.
'R-right, er, as I was saying, the original set of runes I wrote were only a supplementary addition to the spell. The root of the problem is the spell itself! The spell is more of a summoning; don't ask me how it works! The inventor grew a bit...unstable during his later years, and his instructions are a bit, well, insane.'
'Pray tell!'
'Yes, well,' he continued, trying to ignore her scowl, 'part of the spell requires the caster to mix Lethifold blood and the blood of the caster. Don't you see? It'll only ever work for a Black because of the connection Lethifolds share with us! They must have engaged in a contract with the Lethifold! Grandfather all but admitted it to me last year! He said 'the magic of our family and not our blood is the deciding factor'! Magic – not blood! That's why Daphne or Draco, both descendants of Blacks, wouldn't fit! They're not recognised by our family's magic!'
'And how will that help us?'
'Well, if the blood of a recognised family member can summon them...'
If Tracey had been, due to shock and the still open wound in her palm, pale before, her skin became positively ghostly at his allusion. 'Blood?! You want us to write another set of runes in blood on the arch?! Harry, are you insane?'
'Do you have a better idea?! If it's a contract, the method you discovered will void the contract.'
'But only temporarily! Blood won't last forever!'
'I can make it last. I...I think I can ward the arch to keep anyone from tampering with it, too.'
'We don't know the phrasing of the contract. Did you forget already? We can only annul the contract if we know the exact runes they used!'
Harry shook his head. 'We'll keep things vague. We'll pick the least amount of logograms possible and shoot for broader meaning. All contracts are agreements, so we should probably go for Liberty. And we should probably add another rune to convey our understanding to ward off further incursions. Something like that.'
'Harry, that's insane! You're insane! You realise how much guesswork that is? What if you're wrong?! Haven't you heard the stories of Herpo? He used blood for ink, too...'
'I'm not trying to do anything! I'm trying to undo something I wreaked in the first place! And what could happen in the worst of cases?! That Lethifolds will unendingly invade Britain, following the lure of my blood? Guess what – that's happening already!'
They glowered at one another. Harry felt himself grip the blade in his palm harder than ever.
'Listen, I know I'm taking a lot of risks here. But I'll finish this! I brought this upon us, and I'll see it through – no matter the cost!'
'Have you lost your mind?! Arcturus wouldn't ever want you to take such a risk! Screw your family's stupid principles! You're his grandson, for Merlin's sake!'
'Grandfather isn't here!' yelled Harry, finally losing his cool. 'This is my mess, my responsibility. And I intend to fix this!'
Tracey jumped, taken aback by his uproar.
Trying to calm his frantically beating heart, Harry took a step forward. 'The Blacks meddled with things that would better have been left untouched, and I made it worse! You were right; I was a fool. I'll never be able to live with myself if I don't fix this. I can't go back home and ask Grandfather for help, Tracey – I can't! I...it would go against everything I believe in...'
Her golden gaze flickered between his eyes, searching. Then, she groaned, scratching her head in frustration. 'You're infuriating! Fine, whatever! I said I'd help. So, what next?'
His heart skipped a beat. 'Y-you still want to help? Knowing what I'm about to do?'
'I said I'd help, and I meant it. Besides, you can't very well write two runes with your left hand in that state, can you? We probably should go about it just like we did in your mansion. The spell might rebound if we don't.'
'I...Thank you, Tracey.'
She nodded grimly. 'So what runes? You proposed Liberty, and I agree; it might oppose either Contract or even...Partnership. Urgh! If you want something to ward them off, we might as well pick Eihwaz.'
Harry felt himself nod. 'Hold out your hand.'
She looked at him, bewildered. 'W-what? You mean – right now? Shouldn't we think this thr-'
'Your reasoning is solid, and I agree. Also, we're working within a time frame! We're doing it right now! Give me your hand!'
'Alright, alright...'
Slowly, she reached out with her uninjured left hand. Harry, making sure to turn his back on the dais, let go of the knife and joined hands with her.
'But I-' she began to insist.
'No! It's my blood that started this. I think it should be mine and mine alone that finishes it. I'll write Defence, you go for Liberty. Older Futhark, same script as before – and no squiggles! Seven runes on each side. You on the left, me on the right. Alright?'
She still seemed upset, but she gently applied just enough pressure to his hand for him to recognise the timidest of squeezes. He suppressed a wince.
Letting go, he rubbed his right forefinger in his still freely flowing blood.
'One,' she began.
'Two,' he joined in. Out of the corner of his eyes, he ascertained that her expression had settled into her familiar state of deep concentration.
'Three,' they exclaimed in unison.
Two fingers, in perfect synchronisation, touched the stone arch, drawing two runes in blood on the weathered piece of rock. The stone felt cold and dry, eagerly sucking in the generous amount of blood Harry had smeared on his finger.
From one second to the next, the fluttering of the veil increased a hundredfold as if a sudden, ethereous gust was rousing the stale air.
'…'
The whispering, thought Harry, gritting his teeth. 'Keep going!' he shouted. 'We finish this – no matter what!'
'You don't need to tell me!'
:::...ittle Thought...:::
Come on, come on, come on! Harry thought desperately, his fingers continuing their path in the only speed Tracey and him had ever trained in.
:::...t grown tired of us?:::
:::But it was it which called us?!:::
:::CALLED US!:::
'Shut up!' yelled Harry.
:::The blood calls::::::
:::The blood:::
:::It calls!:::
:::BLOOD WILL OUT!:::
'Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!' he screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to drown out the increasingly numerous voices at the edge of perception. The whispering was like the tide; every surge a soft, subtle noise of no consequence, but the entirety of it was an unparalleled force that brooked no defiance.
'Harry?'
:::We helped it:::
:::Helped Little Thoughtling?!:::
:::We helped it flee the snacks!:::
:::Ungrateful Little Thoughtling!:::
:::It flew from snacks?!:::
:::Denied us blood!:::
:::SWEET, SWEET BLOOD!:::
:::Oh, so very sweet!:::
Harry's vision was dimming. His right arm was still moving, barely, but he was screaming with all his might to drown the voices that chipped at his mind like claws on a blackboard.
:::Why is it resisting?!:::
:::It's resisting us?:::
:::It's resisting itself!:::
:::Whyever resist?!:::
Suddenly, the noises died down as if he'd reached the eye of the hurricane. In the silence, there was only one lone whisper.
:::But isn't Little Thoughtling one of us now?:::
In the silence, the clinking of silver hitting stone could be heard. Then, the sound rose, like the raging flood that swallowed dykes, men, and islands whole.
:::US!:::
They were everywhere, permeating Harry's entire being. No other coherent thought except fear was allowed to exist. It shattered him, rolled over any defences he had like a tsunami over sand-castles. Through the mist, he was vaguely aware of Tracey's delicate, injured right hand gripping his injured left – wound on wound. It hurt and yet – at the same time – it didn't hurt at all.
The tide of terror was still rampaging through his mind and bones, but – through the haze – he could still make out his right hand. And even though his heart hammered in his chest, threatening to crack ribs and jump from his throat, he managed to finish the rune with smooth, fluid strokes.
The moment he was done, he collapsed at the foot the dais, heaving, shivering, feeling the worst he'd ever felt in his entire life but never so grateful to hear nothing at all – enjoy the silence to its fullest.
'Harry! Harry, are you alright?! Merlin, I'm so sorry!' Tracey rushed to his side, helping him sit up.
He cowered on the stone step, gently rocking forwards and backwards, teeth chattering. Tracey remained at his side, pulling a revolting pink blanket from somewhere within her robes. He'd never been so grateful for anything so gross.
For close to five minutes, they sat on the steps, unmoving and silent.
'Did you...did you hear what they said?' he asked eventually.
'No...I only understood fragments. Except for that last bit. That was...horrible!'
Harry didn't reply.
'But I...I can't believe we just did that.' Lowering her voice, she added, 'We wrote a set of runes in your blood, Harry. Sweet Morgana! I might as well research Inferi next summer.'
Harry gave a snort. It was ridiculous, of course, but he nevertheless found himself appreciating her attempt at humour. Without another word, he got up, leaving the disgusting but admittedly warm blanket crumpled on the floor. Pulling a specific spell from his memory, he swished his wand.
Tracey watched him through suspicious eyes. 'What's that?'
'A charm to preserve blood,' he muttered absent-mindedly.
'Do I even want to know why you'd know something as ghoulish as that?!'
'Probably not,' he admitted frankly.
'Why does it always have to be blood?! Can't it ever be ponies and roses with you?' Tracey shivered, snatching her blanket and drawing it tightly around her.
Despite himself, a laugh escaped Harry's lips. 'Stop that and let me concentrate! I need to ward the runes. The arch is practically soaked in magic, so this should definitely do the trick...'
Drawing a deep breath, he pointed his wand at the entire arch. One by one, microscopic anchors sprang up all over the outer boundary of the passageway. The area he was attempting to ward was huge – a thousand times bigger than anything he'd ever tried before, and it didn't help that he had to be careful not to disturb the runes. How did Aenor make it look so easy during our first lesson...? One misstep and it's all ruined! It took him nearly ten minutes to attach the anchors alone, sweat dripping from his brow, his left fist clenched to keep his concentration. Slowly, tantalisingly slow, he finished weaving the web.
Tracey was watching like a cat the entire time, silently biding her time.
With a groan, he finally set the last hook.
'Are you done? Nothing's different!'
'I'm not finished, and be silent, please,' he muttered.
Deliberately donnish, he traced the invisible web with his wand, muttering under his breath. He'd bungled this part a dozen times back at Hogwarts, and he wasn't eager for a repeat run. Slowly, the ward was saturated with magic and the intent to balance, to move, and to disperse.
It was a close call, but – thankfully – the entire arch eventually flashed blindingly white, signalling a change. For just a moment, he could – even without concentrating – make out a flowing curtain of watery substance spanning the entire arch.
'Slytherin preserve us! What was that now?!' demanded Tracey, jumping up at the sudden flash that illuminated the entire chamber.
There wasn't supposed to be a flash, but when Harry gently caressed the stone, probing the barrier, he found it fully intact, continuously draining the magic of the arch. He had been careful to weave the barrier around the runes, and as far as he could tell, he'd succeeded. Whatever happened now, as long as no expert on warding intentionally dismantled the ward, it would shield the preserved runes. And if the arch really was a gateway, the magic of whatever lay beyond would fuel the ward indefinitely.
'It's done,' he said with a sigh of relief, slowly sliding down the now sealed gates of hell.
'Indeed,' remarked a female voice Harry didn't recognise. 'Mr Black, Miss Davis, you are both under arrest pending further notice. You are accused of having committed several offences in violation of diverse statutes of international law, including but not limited to the Charter of 1648 Concerning the Ban of Civilisation Threatening Research, ICW; the Decree Restricting Improper, Dark, and Dangerous Magicks, ICW Charter II, 1198; and the European Ban of Blood Magic, ICW Supplementary Treaty Article 13a, Division II, Section B, subpara. 33-42.
'You are further accused of violating the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, ICW, 1692, such charges being based upon a previous unlawful incursion of London City, United Kingdom, pursuant to the jurisdiction provided for in the Wizarding Codex of 814 as amended and restated in 1399.
'You are further alleged to have criminal culpability for your actions contributing to the deaths of 261.833 Muggles and 1.242 witches and wizards during the same incident, which included citizens of various European and Asian countries, thereby granting jurisdiction over such alleged criminal conduct to the ICW under hostis humani generis.
'Due to your previous aggressive actions exerted against lawful officers acting within the course of their duty, a Special Restraining Writ has been issued by the proper authorities, immediately confining you under the aegis of security detainment wardens until the empanelment of a tribunal, at which time you will have the right to present evidence at an official hearing of said tribunal in camera, without prejudice or limitation to any right provided by the corpus juris gentium.
'You are advised that further charges may be added to this indictment at a later date and at the duly appointed prosecutor's discretion. Further take notice that the presentation of these charges under the jurisdiction of the International Conference of Wizards in no way prevents charges being brought against you by the lawful authorities of your country of citizenship or residence, or by any third country in which the alleged criminal conduct occurred.'
Measured footsteps rang through the chamber, and Harry – mouth wide open – looked in horror at the same black woman in her early forties he'd seen with Dora at the ball.
'To sum it all up,' the Auror said a great deal less formally, her mouth twisting into a grim smile, 'playtime's over, brats!'
~BLVoD~
Harry gaped dimly at the confidently approaching woman. It was all too much!
'And just who are you supposed to be?' shouted Tracey.
With a jolt, Harry realised that she, at least, was still sticking to the plan.
'Captain Williams, ICW designation et cetera, et cetera. So are you going to resist at all? I'd love to teach you some manners! My superior isn't here, thankfully, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind anyway if I rough you up a bit. God knows you little shits deserve it!'
'You've got nothing on us!' began Tracey, dauntless.
But the Auror Captain interrupted her with a casual wave of her hand. 'Wicked pissa! That everything?! As if it'd be that easy. No, no, you're coming with me – plain and simple. Even if British and – no doubt – bribed Aurors would turn up now, your asses belong to us! So, any last great act of defiance? Come on, give it a shot, you damned hell-spawn. You'll rot in prison for the rest of your miserable and hopefully short lives, but I wouldn't mind beating a bit of respect into you before that.'
Tracey and Harry exchanged a glance.
'Nothing? Really?! Too bad! Put down your wands or I'll consider your inaction an indication of imminent intent to resist arrest – or don't; it'd be more fun that way.'
We just need to get out of here!
Behind his back, Harry flicked his wand. Invoco Noctem!
Night expanded like an explosion of darkness all around them. Harry, willing his muscles to move just one more time, jumped to the side, expecting a spell to hit his last known location. Nothing of the sort happened. Regaining his feet, he made to grab Tracey when something that felt like a charging herd of rhinos smashed against his right cheek.
Barely half a second later, a blazing mammoth, fifteen feet tall, tore through the darkness, its mighty snout and tusks ripping his charm to shreds like paper.
A Patronus, thought Harry dizzily, managing to raise his aching head just enough to recognise the resplendent animal. It shone so brightly that it hurt to even look in its direction. And a prodigiously strong one, at that...
'Yeah, about that,' said the Auror, smirking at him, 'I'm not deaf, you know. Half of London saw that charm in action, Black. Interesting bit of trivia, your family mixing its blood with Lethifolds. Maybe we can actually do that goof Prewett a bit of a favour. You weren't exactly telling the truth when you said the summoning was the only spell to come off your family's little pet project, were you?'
Tracey, exploiting the woman's fixation on Harry, cast two fast hexes at her from the side. Auror Captain Williams, however, reflected them casually, adding two curses of her own to the bundle of magic that rebounded and hit a shell-shocked Tracey before she could take a dive.
She didn't even look!
'That's right, Black,' commented Williams with a grin, painfully sticking her wand at his inflamed cheek. 'No matter what you're capable of, no matter what you know – I know it too, and I can do it better. You're finished!'
Through the one eye that hadn't swollen shut, he stared at the woman jeering down at him. She loathed him, he realised. No wonder – she probably knew those Aurors...
Harry's eye wandered to the ceiling. So this was it. At least he'd managed to finish his business with the Lethifolds. Daphne and the rest were safe, too – a small mercy. He regretted allowing Tracey to stay, but – on the other hand – maybe he should stop trying to take responsibility for everything that happened. She had decided to stay on her own. Maybe he should respect that. His wand was pointing in his direction, he noticed. Maybe he'd obliviate himself as his last act as a sane person. With a bit of luck, he could limit the damage his stupidity would inflict on his family. Wouldn't it be poetic, too, after everything he'd done, especially to those Aurors back in London? A fitting end.
'And so it ends,' said Williams, a touch more coldly. Apparently, she too was struggling to keep her emotions under control. 'Thanks for cleaning up after yourself, but this is as far as you'll go...'
Harry sighed and closed his eyes, steeling himself for the last charm he'd ever cast...
The sound of fluttering ripped him from his preparations for martyrdom. Looking up, he saw something glide over his head, something with wings, something black. It circled over their heads a few times before it casually perched on top of the arch.
It was a raven.
'I'm afraid I can't allow that.'
Williams, who had been scrutinising the bird with apprehension, whirled around. Harry, fighting for breath, tried to lift his head. Just a bit more, just that tiny bit more...
And then he saw her. Wearing foreign, impractically wide and slightly torn robes of pure, innocent white, splattered with crimson from her shoulders to her feet, stood a witch who, or so Harry thought not for the first time, looked simply too gorgeous to be entirely real; her long, light blond hair unbound, her shapely figure teasingly hinted at despite the flapping garment's best efforts, her eyes the colour of chilly winter mornings – she looked like an angel no matter how you looked at her, and no matter how much blood clung to her. It was...disturbing, surreal and – yes – beautiful.
But Aenor looked furious. 'I've recently lost another interesting project. You can't have that one,' she said, pointing at Harry.
Williams looked tense if poised, slowly backing away, her wand outstretched. 'You're a monster! What do you even want with us?! Why did you attack us?!'
Aenor grinned, baring her teeth. 'The world is a big place, Auror Williams. Or is that Agatha Jones? I always get it wrong with ICW aliases.'
The Auror visibly stiffened. 'Who are you?!' she yelled. Then, apparently throwing a casual glance at the wand Aenor was pointing, her eyes widened. 'Where did you get that wand?!'
'Oh, yes. Found that one in London. That's your colleague's wand, isn't it? I thought it would be amusing to do this with your lobotomised comrade-in-arms' weapon. What was it you said to poor little Harry over there? ''No matter what you're capable of, no matter what you know – I know it too, and I can do it better.'' Such a shame, I'd hoped to find your superior here – I still have a score to settle with him.'
The Auror, breathing agitatedly, was fiddling with a little dark cube, her fingers moving frantically.
Aenor flicked her tongue in a schoolmasterly way. 'You really thought that would work? What a let-down. This is our last vale, Agatha Jones. I'll be sure to send your dear Rasmussen along as soon as possible.'
Hearing that, the Auror's wand exploded with action.
The captain, in an incredible display of skill that left Harry reeling, transfigured four entire rows of stone seats into wolves, lions, and other predators, and with the following animation, they all lunged at the younger woman, completely shielding the Auror from any possible retaliation.
Aenor, with an amused smile, flicked her wand, and a few dozen tons of rock...vanished.
The Auror, eyes bulging, send half a dozen curses – all of them too fast for Harry to follow – at her opponent.
And yet, shaking her head in good humour, Aenor simply conjured a golden shield from thin air, reflecting all the spells towards the ceiling.
'Was that a transmogrification I spotted? You really are talented, Mrs Jones,' she said earnestly, as if she was praising one of her third-years for successfully fighting off a Boggart. 'Such a waste! Almost worthy of my time – almost.'
'You...you monster!' shouted the Auror. And this time, for once, Harry recognised part of the spell she intended to use: a shielding charm, and a bloody good one, as well as something that shared vague similarities with the Portkey spell.
Aenor shrugged, carefully aiming her wand. 'I'd say until we meet again but-'
And just as the last syllable died away, the Auror was hit by three consecutive streaks of ominous green light. The first tore through her shield, the second and third hit her exactly where the heart was, forcing her to prance on the spot. For a second, it looked as if nothing else would happen. But then she fell.
'This really is farewell.'