Another chapter arrives. I'm still a bit unsure if (kinda spoiler-ish) I like the way I handled the scene in the forest. Still, I (mostly) like it. She can save herself, you know? GUESS WHO YOU THINK IT IS, I'M CURIOUS. There were some pretty clear hints.
I've started a Discord. I intend for it to be a small, relaxed server - nothing too fancy or grand. If you have any questions about my writing, want to discuss my work, or simply want to hang out, you're more than welcome to join. The link is in my profile.
Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.
The next chapter will be published the next Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Desolations of Destiny
III. Beyond the Midnight Sky
Smoke gently wafted from beneath the mantle, soaring up into a chimney that wasn't really there. Harry flicked his wrist, watching as the marshmallow twirled through the air. Now golden brown, it neatly placed itself between the chocolate and graham crackers in Harry's waiting hands. Harry squished the sides together before taking a large bite. It was delicious.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Harry frowned, turning to the grandfather clock that stood by his bed.
The match doesn't start for hours.
Harry slowly clambered to his feet, pulling a jacket over his pajamas. His fingers wrapped tight around his wand, he strode towards the door, pressing an eye to the peephole. A boisterous-looking man with bright blue eyes stood outside, adorned in yellow quidditch robes and black boots.
"Just a second," Harry murmured, fiddling with the locks, "There -"
The tent flap curved open, and the man smiled.
"Harry Potter, yes?"
"Er - yes, I am."
"Brilliant!" his eyes sparkled, "I'm Ludo - Ludo Bagman - Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Fudge wanted me to have a quick word with you."
Harry paused, bewildered.
"The Minister?"
"Well, I wasn't talking about the chocolate, was I?" Ludo laughed, "We only just realised you were attending. Of course, Barty heard it from the Rosiers ages ago - he speaks French, you see - but I don't know them nearly as well, not the French branch -"
"Er - what?"
"Oh, never mind," Bagman waved a hand dismissively, grinning again, "All you've got to know is that your seat's been moved. You're in the Top Box now. It's a VIP Box for important ministry officials and their guests. You'll be sitting with Fudge."
Harry's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Safety, Harry, safety," Ludo smiled, "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you. You're to be picked up by Aurors a half hour before the match starts. They'll accompany you to the stadium and back."
Harry forced back a pang of annoyance.
"There aren't any Aurors guarding my tent, are there?"
Bagman waved his hand again, shaking his head.
"No, of course not!" he smiled, "Your tent's well enchanted, anyway. No one can enter without your permission - not even Dumbledore, I'd wager. The Ministry's top enchanters are the best in the world."
Harry frowned. The memory of Dumbledore disillusioning him with a simple tap of his finger replayed itself in his head.
Somehow I doubt that.
"There isn't anything else, is there?" he asked. Bagman shook his head.
"I'll be seeing you later!" the man said loudly, "I've got to find Barty - we've got a meeting with the Bulgarian representatives in a few minutes!"
"Good luck," Harry said. He let the door slide shut.
The rest of the morning passed by in the blink of an eye. Harry found himself standing by the door again nearly an hour later, adorned in white robes he'd bought from Madam Malkins. A translucent canister sat at his feet.
"I've got to learn the Water Conjuring spell." Harry murmured absentmindedly, "Although I could . . ."
He trailed off, shaking his head.
"It's an excuse to explore the grounds." he decided, cracking the door open. He lifted the canister up, stumbling out the door, "I'd have gone out anyway."
It'll be nice to see what witches and wizards from other places are like.
Harry fiddled with a map he'd found in his tent the previous night. Despite there being thousands upon thousands of magicals present, there were only a few water taps sprinkled across the camping grounds. Harry's finger curved along the map, landing upon the closest one. It was in field three.
"That way," Harry murmured, pointing diagonally from his tent. He pocketed the map and hurried forward.
It was an odd experience, walking through the sea of tents. Almost everyone was up by now; witches and wizards of all creeds stood amongst each other, chatting excitedly. Many of them sat around fires they'd conjured up. Others sat with matches at hand, doing their very best not to set themselves alight.
There were a number of younger magicals, too. Harry nearly jumped as a young witch zoomed past him, the tip of her broom nearly knocking the empty water canister from his hands. A ministry official followed swiftly after her, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"YOU GET DOWN MISSY, YOU GET DOWN THIS INSTANT!"
But the girl flew off, her feet skimming the top of a row of tents.
After what felt like an hour, Harry found himself at the water tap in field three. There was a small queue by now. Harry quickly got in line, standing behind a group of much older African wizards. They were all dressed in a sort of clothing Harry hadn't ever seen before. Harry watched as they gathered around a dead rabbit, placing the empty canister off to his side.
"Kupika vizuri," one of them muttered, "Sungura iliyopikwa sana sio kitamu sana -"
The one in the middle waved dismissively. Harry watched as the man bent over, tracing a circle over the rabbit's corpse with his finger. The fur slowly turned to ash, the rabbit's juicy meat glistening beneath the cloud-covered sunlight. Harry's mouth hung wide with surprise.
"It is nothing to envy." said a heavily accented voice. Harry looked up.
One of the African wizards had noticed him. He watched as the others crowded around the cooked rabbit, ripping bits of meat from it. Harry glanced back at the man. He was staring curiously at Harry's wand.
"Why's that?" Harry asked curiously.
"Because there is a price to everything," the man said solemnly, "We wish we could do magic with a wand just as much as you wish you could use magic without it. There is very little that can be accomplished without one."
Harry frowned.
"Why not just get a wand?"
The man laughed. Harry's frown deepened.
"We have tried, boy. It does not work. Only one or the other. That is the way things are."
Harry watched as the man turned aside, following behind his friends in the queue. His palm split, his fingers curving inwards. The empty canister that sat on the floor soared into his tight grasp. Harry smiled faintly.
Why choose when you can have them both?
-(xXx)-
Harry stepped out of his tent. The darkened sky stretched for an eternity, the stars twinkling like streetlights far too high. He wrapped his robes tight around him as the chilling breeze pressed against his skin, clambering down the steps and towards the wizards before him.
"Got everything you'll need?" asked one of them. He, like his partner, was adorned in robes colored blood red, "Your wand?"
Harry nodded, pulling his wand from his robes. The dark wood glistened beneath the moonlight.
"Brilliant," the Auror clapped his hands together, "Alright, let's go."
Harry followed the two Aurors into the forest that sat just opposite the campground. The air here was cold and still, the many tree trunks clumped together. Harry could just barely make out the dull red of the Aurors' capes.
A bit like the Forbidden Forest.
Harry paused, the hooting of an owl sliding past his ears.
Not nearly as dangerous, though.
Harry squinted almost challengingly at the darkened gaps between the trees before dashing after the Aurors.
Ten minutes passed. Harry could make out the vague blur of lights through the gaps before him. Something large stood beyond the trees, something shiny, and silver, and -
"Harry!"
Harry twisted sharply, his wand held high in the air. A boisterous laugh echoed through the clearing.
"No need for that, Harry, no need at all!" Fudge boomed. The Minister of Magic stood just a few feet before him, bedecked in his trademark lime bowler hat. A number of Aurors stood behind him, "Now come, we'd best find our seats before it's time for the public to arrive."
Harry slowly pocketed his wand, following after Minister Fudge through the edge of the clearing. His eyes widened as they traced over the massive stadium that stood before them.
"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Fudge exclaimed, "She's been in the works for a while now. Couldn't ask for a better time to unveil her!"
Harry nodded, his eyes falling down the building to the metal gates before him. A number of witches and wizards were already standing in line. Harry only recognized a small handful of them, but each and everyone had something in common.
Rich, powerful, or famous. Every last one of them.
The witches and wizards all chatted amongst each other, slowly edging forward as the witch at the front booth checked their tickets one by one. Harry's eyes were drawn to the man at the front - one with long blonde hair, dark robes, and sharp grey eyes.
You're kidding.
The ticket witch handed three bits of parchment back to Lucius Malfoy, who smiled. Harry watched as he pocketed them, following Draco and a blonde-haired woman into the stadium.
"How are the VIP boxes sorted, anyway?" Harry asked curiously as they joined the end of the line, "Surely they haven't got us all cramped into one box?"
"Merlin, no," Fudge waved a hand dismissively, "I imagine that'd be a terrible experience for everyone, especially with the language barriers. No, we're to be sorted based on whichever ministry we're with - country, I mean. Although I do imagine the Bulgarian Minister will be joining us tonight . . ."
He trailed off. The pair shuffled forward as the line moved on.
"This is the first real Quidditch game you'll be watching, isn't it?" asked Fudge curiously.
"I've been to a few of the Hogwarts ones -"
"Those don't count, Harry," Fudge assured him, "This is different. You'll see. They're on another level entirely."
"Do you watch regularly, then?"
"Oh, yes," Fudge clamored, "Not as often as I used to, of course - being Minister for Magic comes with many asks - but I still see enough to get by."
He straightened up, rubbing the palms of his hands together.
"It's a nice reprieve, this." he noted happily, "We've been quite busy in the office as of late - what with, well -"
"The Triwizard Tournament?" Harry finished absentmindedly.
Fudge almost jumped in surprise.
"Well, yes, actually." he admitted, "France is making things far more difficult than it has to be. The Fiendfyre incident has got them all riled up."
Harry felt his finger twitch nervously. He tucked them into the pocket of his robes, glancing up.
"I thought that was all worked out?" he asked, pausing for a moment, "Lestrange changed the color or something, didn't she?"
"Yes, that's right." Fudge grimaced, "It's the only thing that makes sense. Everyone with a brain in their head has caught on by now."
"Then why is France - er - 'making things difficult'?"
"Politics." Fudge muttered dryly, "They're just using the incident as an excuse to move some of the Tournament towards them."
Harry frowned, confused.
"What? What's so special about a school tournament?"
"I wouldn't know." Fudge said with a sigh, "But the French, they love it. They want to win - they're in love with the idea of beating us at something. The Scandinavians are too, come to think of it. Their economies used to go sky high whenever the Tournament was taking place at Beauxbatons, what with all the festivals, and celebrations -"
"Good evening, Minister." a gentle voice said. Harry turned, his eyes falling upon the witch who sat at the Ticket Booth, "May I see your ticket?"
"Of course, dear, just a moment." Harry waited as Fudge fumbled through his robes, glancing at the witch in the booth. She was very pretty.
"Aha!" Fudge pulled a ticket from his robes, handing it to the witch. She examined it carefully, "And you, Harry, she'll want to see yours too."
The witch's eyes widened. Harry's arm stretched forward, his fingers curled tight around a ticket of his own. He handed it to the witch, watching as she tapped it gently with her wand.
"Everything's in order." the woman said at last, "Enjoy your evening, Minister, Mr. Potter."
They both nodded, stepping past her with the Aurors in tow.
"And now, the worst part." Fudge said as they reached the end of the path. He stared forward in disgust, "Stairs."
Harry laughed. They clambered up the steps two at a time, trailing after the many others who had already entered the stadium. They climbed floor after floor, their spirits still high as they edged closer and closer to the top.
"Minister!"
Harry turned. A man in a pinstriped suit stood at the landing of the thirteenth floor, staring at them both. He edged towards Fudge, looking beyond tired.
"Ah, Barty!" Fudge exclaimed, "Is everyone doing well? Everything going to plan?"
"As well as one could hope." the man replied curtly, "Though I need a quick word with you - you're to be briefed on the award's ceremony procedure, should Ireland win."
Fudge nodded quickly.
"Yes, of course." he turned to Harry, then to the Aurors, "Make sure he gets up alright, will you?"
Two of the Aurors nodded. Fudge turned back to Harry, the other Aurors circling around him.
"Duty calls," he sighed, smiling, "I'll join you up in the Top Box before the match begins."
He waved goodbye before following Barty down the long hallway. Harry turned to the Auror on his left.
"Do you know how many stairs we've got left?"
"About twenty-seven, I think."
Harry groaned.
What remained of their trek upwards took about as long as Harry imagined. His eyes roamed as they clambered up the twentieth floor, and the twenty-fifth, and the thirtieth -
Bright blue eyes stood out in a sea of blurred faces. Harry paused, frowning at the girl's curious expression. She ran a finger through her long, dark hair.
"Cerise?"
The girl turned. Harry watched as she faced a tall man with dark brown hair and slightly tanned skin.
"J'arrive, père." the girl called. She glanced back at Harry for the briefest of moments - the next, she was making her way down the hallway, following after her father.
"Keep moving." one of the Aurors said tiredly, "If you stop to stare at every other witch you see, we won't get there til' the morning."
"I - sorry," Harry said, blushing furiously. The Aurors laughed.
At long last, they reached the very top. Harry strode towards the room at the end of the Hall, reading the inscription inlay within a golden panel.
'For the Members of the British Ministry and their Associates:
The Top Box'
Harry stepped inside. A large booth awaited him, crammed with nearly fifty seats. All of them faced towards the inside of the stadium, and nearly half of them were filled. Harry recognized many more people now: aside from the Malfoys, there were the Weasleys, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, too.
"You're at the front," One of the Aurors whispered, "You'll be sitting with Fudge"
The Auror filed past him. Harry made his way towards the center of the first row, taking a seat.
Time whirled by. The stadium roared with life as hundreds of thousands of magicals clambered in. The lights slowly dimmed, and Minister Fudge appeared in the center of the field, the snitch clasped tightly in his hands.
"Let the games begin!"
The snitch vanished in a blur of gold, and the stadium roared as one.
-(xXx)-
"Victor, I love you!"
"Victor, I do!"
"When we're apart, my heart beats only for you -"
"Piss off, the both of you." Ron hissed furiously, throwing a chocolate frog at the twins. He snarled irritably as they ducked out of the way, "I'm not in love with the bloke, he's just Krum -"
"Oh, we won't tell, ickle Ronnie Dummeldinkins." Fred announced loudly, "You know us - supportive, aren't we?"
"Mum might need a bit of convincing, though." George frowned to himself, "She'll expect grandkids from us all, you know. But I suppose you could always adopt."
They watched as the twins bounded off, snickering to one another.
"Insufferable, those two," Ron muttered. Neville and Hermione followed him down the stairs and out of the stadium, "I'll get them back, I'll get them back if it's the last thing I do."
"He was brilliant though, wasn't he?" Hermione said, "Of course, Bulgaria still lost -"
"Who cares?" Ron snorted, "If you're going to go out, at least go out with a bang!"
Neville frowned, picturing the bloodied face of Krum as he held the snitch high in the air.
"I think he went out with more than a bang." he mumbled quietly. Ron shrugged.
"Like it matters. He's still standing, isn't he? Mind you, it would've been nice if he'd manage to pull in a victory, but considering how good the Ireland chasers were . . ."
Something shone in the corner of Neville's eyes. Raven black hair glistened beneath the moonlight. Neville watched as Harry Potter fastened his cloak tighter around him, bounding down the final set of stairs and off through the path in the forest.
Forest. Like the Forbidden Forest. Just like that night . . .
"Neville?"
Neville straightened up. Ron was staring at him now, as was Hermione. The latter's eyes seemed to jump between him and the forest and him again.
"What is it?" Hermione whispered, her voice low. She dragged him and Ron into a corner apart from the exit, just off the path that led back to the campgrounds, "Does it have to do with Potter?"
Neville nodded slowly.
"I - he was there." Neville muttered softly, "I almost forgot . . ."
"He was where, Neville?" Ron asked exasperatedly, "And if you say 'the Top Box' I'll slap you - we were there too, you know -"
"In the Forbidden Forest. That night, with Lestrange, Snape, and Lupin. He was there, I'm sure he was . . ."
He trailed off, glancing up at the others. Their jaws were hung wide open in shock.
"He WHAT?" Ron shouted. He jumped as Hermione jabbed him warningly in the thigh, glancing around to check if anyone had heard, "Sorry - but what? What do you mean, 'he was there' -"
"And more importantly," Hermione added, her lips pursed, "How could you possibly have forgotten?"
Neville shrugged uncertainly.
"It didn't really cross my mind," he admitted slowly, "I was a bit caught up with Lestrange, remember? But I'm sure I saw him - his Invisibility Cloak fell off just as we were leaving."
He frowned, glancing at the pair.
"I thought you two had worked that out by now." he noted, "He was in the Hospital Wing for the last few weeks of school, remember?"
Hermione twitched irritably.
"I suppose it's probably nothing." she decided at last, "I can't imagine Dumbledore would do nothing if that wasn't the case."
"It doesn't explain why he was there, though," Ron muttered. Hermione nodded, lost in thought.
"It doesn't matter," Neville frowned, straightening up, "He didn't really have a reason for dealing with the Chamber of Secrets, but he still did, didn't he? Maybe he was just trying to help."
"Maybe." Hermione conceded slowly. Neville could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn't quite believe it.
"Hem, hem."
The three of them turned around. Behind them was a short, plump woman with short brown hair and pink-knitted robes. Her eyes shone with distaste as she glanced amongst them, an unnaturally sweet smile etched upon her toad-like face.
"The stadium is closed now," she told them with a sharp smile, "You'd best find your way back to your tents."
Hermione was the first to snap back to her senses.
"Right, of course," she said nervously, "We'll be on our way, then."
The witch in pink nodded, and with an air of superiority, she made her way back up the stairs and out of sight.
"C'mon," Ron muttered, dragging the both of them along with him, "We'd better get going. Dad will go mad if we end up lost."
The two nodded, and together they set off down the windy path through the forest.
-(xXx)-
Bang.
Harry jumped up in his bed. The world was vague and blurry. Harry's glasses flew into the palm of his hand, and he scrambled to put them on. The insides of his tent stared back at him, looking just as they had many hours prior. Harry frowned in confusion.
Something's off. I can feel it.
The sheets slowly fell to the floor. Harry plucked his wand up from his bedside table, hastily shoving a black hoodie over his head. He edged towards the front door, his wand held upright. Harry slowly pulled it open.
Shouts tore through the air. Harry stumbled back in alarm as a sea of witches and wizards scrambled past him, running in all directions. A sharp pain erupted in his side as a number of people crashed into his side -
"Get off me!"
Crack.
The air churned him. Harry watched as a familiar silver glow twisted through the air, stopping anyone from getting close. He sighed in relief.
"I owe you one," Harry murmured dazedly.
Three, actually. Saved me from Lockhart and Bella, too.
Harry shook himself awake, following in the direction of the crowd. It was hard to make out what was going on. Harry tried to peak over the heads of those before him, but they constantly moved, forcing him in another direction. At long last, he ducked through a gap in the crowd, heading off towards the edge of the forest. Harry doubled over, gasping for breath.
Something poked out from the campgrounds. A nude woman floated high in the air, covered in bruises and burns. Two children floated beside her, as did a man Harry recognized immediately.
Mr. Roberts. The campground director.
Beneath them stood a number of robed figures. Each was adorned with pale masks, their hoods pointed and their cloaks as black as the night sky. The Death Eaters jeered as the nude woman writhed in the air, her limp body nearly falling to the Earth.
Anger churned through his veins. Harry felt himself surge forward, his wand rising -
No. There's too many.
He grit his teeth in frustration. Harry forced his mind calm, and with great regret, ran deeper into the forest.
It was quickly getting harder to see. Every now and then, a sudden flash of light would illuminate the many trees. Muffled shouts echoed through the woods. Harry wasn't sure all of them were innocent.
"Crucio!"
Harry dove behind a tree, his heart racing. He waited with bated breath, but no light streaked past him. He slowly rose to his feet. Something potent wafted from his right, sliding across his spine like a finger in the cold.
Harry bolted. His wand curved upwards as he stepped into the clearing -
"Vena Secare!"
A hue of bronze slipped for the girl's wand. Harry winced as the magic slashed across a man cloaked in black, watching as he fell to the floor in agony. Harry frowned. His eyes slowly rose from the limp Death Eater to the girl that stood before him.
She was a bit shorter than him. An oversized hood hid most of her features, though Harry caught a glimpse of soft, smooth, skin. A thin stream of magic reached towards him, and for a moment, Harry had the oddest desire to do something impressive -
Harry forced the feeling aside. A cold feeling slid across his spine.
What the hell was that?
Shivering, Harry glanced back at the man on the floor.
"You didn't have to rip his veins out, you know." Harry whispered, "A simple 'Stupefy' would've done -"
"And eef another 'ad come?" the girl challenged in a thick, distinctly French accent, "What eef one of 'is friends were 'ere to revive 'im? Do you 'ave any idea what zey would do to me?"
Harry said nothing. The girl shook her head, her wand raised.
"Are you going to report me, zen?" she whispered hotly, "Just because you can't 'andle what eet takes to survive -"
Something shifted in his peripheral vision. Harry could just barely make out the dull form of a cloaked man. His fingers slipped upwards.
"Cors Comprimens," Harry whispered. The man toppled to the floor, the pale mask slipping from his face.
Not dead. Just close.
Harry glanced back at the girl. Her wand was pointed at him now, her hand shaking slightly.
"No. No, I won't." he muttered, "You're right."
They're too dangerous to be trusted.
The girl stared at him for a moment. Harry watched as her bottom lip jutted out from beneath the darkness of her hood. After a few moments, she turned, her dainty fingers reaching into her cloak.
Harry pointed his wand at her, watching as she pulled a silver medallion from her pocket. Her fingers threaded its ribbon around her hand.
"Be safe," she whispered softly.
The medallion flickered, and the girl disappeared in a whirl of light. Harry stared at where she had just been.
A Portkey.
"Idiot," Harry mumbled to himself, "How the fuck did I forget?"
Harry spared the two Death Eaters one last glance before ducking through the trees again. He tried desperately to recall which way he had come from, but each path looked identical to the next. Harry groaned irritably, barely able to see -
"Ouch!"
Harry swore, gripping his foot. His wand curved through the air.
Lumos.
White light rippled through the trees. Harry squinted, lowering his wand to the dirt as he scurried forward. His heart shuddered to a stop as a low voice rang from somewhere before him.
"The light. Someone's here."
The voice was low and gruff. Harry stilled, stifling the light with a flick of his wand, but by then it was far too late -
Bang.
The clearing exploded. Harry watched as the trees before him crumbled to ash, revealing a number of cloaked, hooded men. The one closest growled with approval.
"Harry Potter," he whispered sickly, "What a treat."
A blast of red light careened towards him. Harry stepped to the side, gritting his teeth.
"Morsus."
The man's robes tattered to bits. Bite marks appeared along his pale skin, blood streaming down to the Earth in rivulets. The man studied his wounds, curious.
"You'll die for that, you filthy fucking mudblood -"
"No." another said sharply, "No killings, especially not him. Too much attention will be raised -"
But the bulky Death Eater was no longer listening.
"Crucio!"
Harry dove to the side, a flourish of color spewing from the tip of his wand. A shield of crude earth wrapped around the man, crumbling as violent magic tore into it. Harry rose to his feet, sending spell after spell after each of the Death Eaters in the clearing -
"Bombarda!"
Bang.
Harry soared through the air, landing on the floor with a sickening crunch. He moaned, gripping at his ribs. Faint tears trickled down his cheeks and to the edges of his lips.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" someone whispered. Harry could just barely make out the vague outline of the man who loomed before him, "Nothing less than you deserve -"
"Percutiens." Harry hissed. Silver magic slipped from his wand, snapping the man's legs in two with a loud crack.
"Son . . . of a . . . mudblood . . ." the man gasped, blood trickling from his lips. Harry forced himself to his feet, kicking the man just beneath the chin.
"Be quiet," he muttered, dazed, "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."
The other Death Eaters were clambering to their feet. Harry pointed his wand between them all, twitching as a sharp pain flared in his chest.
Just do what Bella said. Dodge, shield, evade, counter-attack.
"Confringo."
A shield arced up before the Death Eaters in the nick of time. Harry watched as the burst of gold sputtered harmlessly against a sphere of compressed air. He pointed his wand at the earth beneath him, smirking faintly.
Like Bellatrix did to Snape. Do it. Go on.
The ground obeyed. Harry grinned as the dirt rose into the air, spinning itself into a swarm of daggers. They flew towards the Death Eaters with a flick of his wand. Their shield was slower this time; Harry watched with satisfaction as two of the Death Eaters crumpled to the floor.
"Three down." one of the Death Eaters murmured. Harry turned to him. He was the one who had spoken up earlier, a man tall and thin. Harry could just barely make out a hint of blonde behind a pale mask, "Not bad, for a child."
"Only for a child?" Harry managed, grasping his chest. The man shrugged.
"These two aren't the most impressive." he admitted, glancing at the two beside him, "And him," he looked up, watching as the bulky man bled out on the opposite side of the clearing, "well, he's just reckless."
"And you?"
"Calmer. More focussed. You'd be surprised how much it helps."
Harry grit his teeth. He forced his mind still.
"I doubt that." he hissed sharply. A blast of silver magic spiraled from his wand, barrelling into one of the remaining Death Eaters. They watched as he crumbled to the ground.
"Occlumency?" the blonde man frowned behind his mask, "Strange. Now who would have taught you that -"
"Bombarda!"
The man dove to the ground, swearing. Specks of dirt lined his robes as he rose to his feet again.
"You've quite the talent for irritating people." he spat irritably, "Your father was like that, too -"
"Vitreus!" Harry roared. The man dove to the earth again, ducking out of the way as a blast of shattered glass flew past him. Blood dripped from the edge of his mask as he straightened up.
"Fine," the man snapped in a lazy drawl, "Have it your way."
Magic sprung from all angles. Harry dove to the side, hastily throwing up a shield of ivory. It was torn to bits in seconds, metal flying in all directions. Harry swore as a chunk scratched a thin line just beneath his eyes.
"Too scared to fight me yourself?" he called from behind a row of trees, "Or do you usually get your lackeys to do the hard work for you -"
"Scared?" the man laughed. His voice was muffled beneath the pale mask, "Look at yourself, boy. Scared -"
Golden light slammed into the tree in front of him. Harry's wand rose, but before he could counter he tumbled through the air and into a shattered tree trunk.
The man laughed from somewhere before him.
"You've been taught the Myrddin." he grinned beneath his mask, "You can't keep switching to Morrigan, boy . . . they don't mix, those two."
Harry groaned, gasping for breath.
What the fuck is he talking about?
But the man waved dismissively.
"Dueling forms," he explained knowingly, "I suppose you wouldn't understand, being raised by Muggles. You should be proud. I almost forgot."
The world blurred. Harry watched through scratched glasses as several cloaked figures edged towards him, their wands glistening with light.
"You hurt us so very much, boy." the man noted, his voice thinning, "Surely you'd like to know what it feels like?"
Protect me. Please, just protect me -
Tired shards of magic sparked out within his chest.
Please.
Nothing. A shaky breath escaped him. Harry closed his eyes in defeat.
"Cruc -"
"DISPERDE!"
Bright light streaked through the clearing. The Death Eaters soared through the clearing and out of sight. Harry groaned, slowly turning around.
A cloaked woman stood at the edge of the clearing. Brown hair tumbled from the hood of her robes, matching the color of her heavily hooded eyes. Harry blinked faintly at her. She looked familiar.
The woman stepped into the clearing, her horrified gaze slipping from one wound to the next -
"MORSMORDE!"
Something vast shot up above the tallest trees of the distant forest. A glowing green serpent slithered from the open mouth of a skull, stretching across the midnight sky.
Shouts tore through the forest. Harry glanced back at the woman. Her gaze shifted from him to the sky, and then to something out of sight. Harry could almost see the indecision that churned in her chest.
"Harry -"
Golden lights flickered in the distance. The woman stilled.
"The Aurors are close," she whispered, "You've got to get to the Portkey grounds."
She glanced back at the clearing and waved her wand once more. Another burst of magic tore through the air, sending the remaining Death Eaters flying. The woman sent him one last look before wrapping herself in a silvery, liquid-like fabric. Her body vanished from sight.
"Keep going, Harry. I know you can."
The woman twisted, and Bellatrix Lestrange was gone.