CHAPTER 102: The Only One He'll Ever Fear (Part 1)

Grimmauld Place

12:30 a.m.

Black didn't take his eyes off Harry. He was still alert, almost shaking with anticipation as he gradually knelt and aimlessly searched for the wand on the floor. The moment he touched it, he sprang into action. Rolling on the ground as he gripped the wand, Black took no time before levelling it against Harry. His hand was trembling violently, his face slowly contorting in rage. But Harry didn't blink, he hadn't even flinched. He stared impassively into Sirius Black's eyes, almost playing with the glimmer of madness behind them as he enjoyed watching Black's fear grow by his lack of a reaction.

"I told you I was going to kill you," Black whispered coldly, and in a quick motion, a jet of light burst from his wand. But instead of hitting Harry, it collided against the lock of the cell, eliciting a soft click from it as the door opened slightly.

Raising himself to his two feet, Black moved methodically as he studied Harry. His wand was once again trained on him as the rage within him began growing. He pushed the door open, stumbling out of the cell, but he couldn't get more than a few steps from the door before Aurora began screeching again. She abruptly stopped flying circles around Harry, instead hovering just right above his shoulder, fire forming from her wings as she glared down at Black.

"You wouldn't get the chance," Harry finally said.

"You think your bloody bird can protect you?" Black snarled back.

"She won't need to," as he said this, Aurora's flame was extinguished, and she slowly descended until she was perched on Harry's shoulder. And even after he had commanded Aurora to stand down and appeared seemingly wandless, Black didn't dare to make a move.

Good.

"You can try to kill me and see how that works out for you… again…" Harry trailed off, taking a step towards Black that forced the man to back off slightly. "Or you can come with me, and I'll give you something you want more."

"And what's that?" Black gritted out.

"How would you like the chance to kill Bellatrix Lestrange?"

The name had the instant effect Harry had hoped for. Black's wand began to shake more in his hand, his jaw set tightly as fury blazed behind his eyes. Sirius Black didn't need to lower his wand for Harry to know his hatred for Bellatrix Lestrange far outweighed his hatred for him.

Department of Mysteries

12:30 a.m.

Malfoy's words echoed inside Neville's head. Taunting him. Laughing at him. Worst of all was the looks everyone else was giving him, a combination of pity and disappointment. He wouldn't be able to save them this time, and they knew it. He could almost hear Malfoy chuckling behind his mask. The world seemed to stop, or at least slow down, and then he heard it. That laugh. Neville didn't need to turn around to know who it was from. That voice had been conspicuously absent all night, it was no wonder this was when it decided to show itself.

"Oh, what a wonderful turn of events," it said gleefully, skipping from behind him as the dark mirror of himself used its right arm to lean itself against Malfoy. That mocking smile, his dark reflection didn't even need to point out the obvious to him to drill that point into his head. "After all this time, with everyone thinking you're something special or worthy of so much attention, you turned out to be just another loser with delusions of grandeur."

Neville's dark mirror laughed and kept laughing even as time suddenly snapped back to normal speed. It didn't disappear. No one else could hear or see him, but Neville's stomach dropped as he got the feeling this time, it would never go away again.

"Tick tock, Nevs," it reminded him, pushing itself from Malfoy as it began to roam about the large hall wildly. "You don't have much time if you want your friends to live."

"The Dark Lord will still want you," Malfoy's voice snapped his attention before he felt something push him back. He fell to the ground, the rope painfully tightening against his torso and pinning his remaining arm under it. "He'll want to kill you himself, just to be sure, of course."

Neville struggled against the restraint, putting all of his strength as he tried to free himself. But as much as he tried, nothing gave. The Dark Neville suddenly appeared in front of him, kneeling down and pushing the hair off his forehead until his hand hovered above his scar, eliciting a jolt of pain as it touched it. "I wonder what Malfoy will do to the rest," it pondered out loud, and as soon as the words left its mouth a fight broke out only a few feet from him. Neville strained himself, trying to catch a glimpse, but anything he could have seen was obscured by the looming form of his dark self. "I tried to tell you, didn't I? I always did say you were going to kill them in the end."

"Neville!" Hermione's scream broke through the sounds of spell fire.

"Kill them all!" Lucius snarled.

"Fred no!" Ron's voice was deafening, and Neville felt as if his heart completely stopped.

Different lights flashed all over the room - orange, green, pink. People were grunting. Struggling. Shouting. His dark mirror was grinning down on him. It was hard to breathe. His panic and rage took over as Neville struggled more and more fiercely before suddenly, the ropes binding him melted away. As soon as he felt himself free he rolled out of the way, the lack of his right arm making the move foreign and uncomfortable. He lost balance for a moment, and it took a second or two for him to snap out of the odd feeling as he looked up and saw Malfoy and Fred struggling.

There was a flash of pink right as Fred cried out in agony. He latched onto Malfoy, gripping at his robes as the Death Eater launched the Weasley boy away. But the moment Fred was pried away, there was an audible rip of fabric that was followed by a gentle clatter of diminutive objects as they crashed onto the ground. And by the time Malfoy had realised it, Neville had sprung into action, in an odd jumble of a jump and a crawl, Neville traversed the few feet between them and grasped onto the tiny sticks of wood.

"NO-" Malfoy's snarl was suddenly cut off as the room shifted around Neville. The enormous, almost archaic chamber was no more, and Neville was suddenly in what looked like a small copy of a St Mungo's room. The walls were covered in scribbles, there were various small tables filled with instruments and even more parchments worth of notes. And on the lonely bed was a disfigured corpse that Neville vaguely recognised.

He was alone for only a second, as not only did his dark self join him, but two Death Eaters suddenly appeared around him.

"What are you doing boy?" One of the figures shouted.

The other one was making its way towards him.

Neville suddenly felt his hand burn, and his heart dropped as for a moment Neville wondered if his left arm was going to also be taken away from him. But the sensation only lasted a moment, and when he looked at his arm he saw that the six small wands in his hand had suddenly been enlarged to their full size. Without thinking Neville raised his arm and shouted "STUPEFY!"

The six wands acted instantaneously, and though the combined use of all wands felt like a punch to the gut, the magnitude of spells made up for the lack of aim he had with his left hand as one of them miraculously struck its target while the others rebounded against the walls of the room a few times before they lost their power.

The other Death Eater gave a yelp and dropped to the ground, and Neville took the opportunity to run towards him, only yelling out another stunning charm once he was so close it was impossible for Neville to miss. The force of the spells was so great that the man had been flung all across the room, crashing against the wall, so violently there was a loud crack as his skull was shattered on impact and his neck was contorted gruesomely.

Neville felt his jaw drop, a cold feeling crawling all over his body. He had almost missed the cruel laugh behind him until he felt someone grab him by the shoulder. "Well, at least you actually killed your target this time. Cedric would be proud. Too bad the same can't be said about the rest of your friends."

And as the voice slowly faded away, the hair on the back of Neville's head stood. He immediately sprang from the ground and looked around the small room, searching, begging for a way out. A door to appear or another shift to happen. Anything to get him out of this room and let him help the rest of his friends. But he couldn't. And worst of all, he had all their wands with him.

Outside The Gaunt Shack

12:30 a.m.

"Tom, Bedivere," Albus said calmly, breaking the imposing silence that had settled since his arrival.

Fawkes had been flying around them, his song hopeful and relaxing and just what Albus needed to keep himself collected at the situation in front of him. Tom's presence here had always been a possibility, after all, this was his family home and an important location he had bookmarked after his many trips into the myriad of old memories he had connected to Tom. Finding Bedivere Parkinson here, however, was completely unexpected.

Albus knew very little of the man. As it was with most Unspeakables, their lives were constantly shrouded in secrecy, and they allowed very little interaction with people outside those they consider their families. His views were often conflicting, and his motivations a mystery he hadn't been able to solve even after decades of Wizengamot sessions and meetings with Cornelius and Millicent. Even now, as the two of them stood before him, Albus couldn't decide if this was proof Bedivere Parkinson was a member of Tom's Inner Circle, if he was someone who, like himself, was trying to stand against him, or if he was yet another person who was after the Deathly Hallows on their own.

A quick few seconds of a deeper analysis put him more in the two latter camps in Albus' eyes. Bedivere looked outright sickly. He was deadly pale, his entire body shaking. He looked two hundred years older than the last time Albus had seen him. This was a far cry from the quiet yet formidable figure that could make even the Minister of Magic tremble with just a few choice words. It was then that he felt it, the sure culprit of Bedivere's condition. Had he not used Fawkes and its phoenix fire apparition to get here, he might be in the same position as Bedivere. The dozens of wards around them were almost suffocating, the dark magic pouring out of them grazing his skin. It wasn't just the wards that had been cursed. The snakes surrounding them, the ground below them.

Tom had been here before. Tom must have known about the Resurrection Stone. Unless he didn't. Otherwise, why would he have hidden it rather than used it himself?

"Dumbledore," Tom hissed out, his high cold voice eliciting a violent response from all the surrounding snakes. They were ready to pounce on them at a moment's notice.

His eyes met Tom's vacant orbs. It had been decades since he'd seen any sign of life behind them, any emotion or thought that shone through them. A side effect of the damage he had caused to his soul. Not that it mattered, he had known Tom longer than anyone. Albus knew what he thought without any aid necessary. And for once, Albus couldn't help but wonder the same thing he was. In any other scenario, a Legilimency battle between the two would see Albus as the victor. But tonight, in Tom's territory, with hundreds of his snakes around them and the wards overpowering him, Albus wasn't so sure.

He turned towards Bedivere before Tom could make up his mind, and he could see all the gears turning behind his eyes as they switched between Albus and Tom. Bedivere wanted to know what he knew. He wanted to know what Tom knew. He was just as in the dark as Albus and Tom were. It prolonged the unnerving silence. None of them were willing to speak, to reveal anything else they knew they shouldn't. It gave Albus more time to think, but the more he tried to come up with any solutions, the less he was sure of any assumptions he had made upon his arrival.

It was Tom who broke the silence first as he spun towards Albus and launched a series of killing curses. But Albus had been prepared for this, quickly moving his wand upwards as small pebbles rose from the ground, enlarging in size as they did and managing to intercept the killing curses that had been aimed at him, only to break apart into hundreds of small pieces that clashed against a quick shield he had put into place. It was a swift reaction, something he'd had to do before various times, which allowed him to focus on Bedivere as he immediately dove towards the ground and reached out into the darkness with his right arm.

Tom had seen this too, immediately targetting the man with various killing curses as he also charmed the vines and weeds on the ground to latch themselves onto the Head Unspeakable and trap him. Albus quickly stepped in, burning up Bedivere's restraints as a wand suddenly appeared in his hand. He wasted no time, aiming it at his head and immediately disappearing from view. A disillusionment charm, and Tom knew it as well as he kept trying to attack the invisible Bedivere.

Albus had felt the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards since the moment he arrived. Tom had them fairly trapped, but that didn't mean there weren't any alternatives left for Bedivere. Fawkes acted before Albus could even send the command, The bird immediately flared up, becoming consumed by a fiery blaze as it continued flying circles around them, creating a wall of fire nearly twelve-foot tall that surrounded all of them and restricted any terrestrial means of escape.

Seeing Fawkes' efforts, Bedivere began launching curses at both Albus and Tom, forcing the two of them to disillusion themselves as well to remove Bedivere's advantage. But it lasted for only a moment as a bright yellow light was suddenly launched into the sky and exploded, its shock waves removing the effects of the disillusionment charm from both Tom and Albus right before Bedivere - who was still invisible - continued his assault on both of them as he slowly backed away from them.

Albus was forced to fight a battle on two fronts, with the three of them engaging in a free-for-all battle between them. Albus used whatever he could, taking advantage of his environment as he elevated the fight, transfiguring the small pebbles into wolves and lions that targeted both Tom and Bedivere. With a quick wandless gesture, the vines from the floor suddenly sprang upward and defended him against the den of snakes that had begun launching themselves at him, eager to bite him anywhere they could. And when Bedivere tried to use various water and fire-extinguishing charms, Fawkes not only reinforced the surrounding barriers but also began launching spurts of fire at the invisible man.

Bedivere quickly gave up, exploding into a mass of darkness and surging upwards. But he didn't get more than eight feet from the ground before Tom reached out with his hand and used wandless magic to shove him back down towards the earth, the disillusionment charm thoroughly broken and Bedivere lay on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from his head. But before he could do any more damage, Albus used some of the spare vines that weren't busy fighting snakes and set them onto Tom. One latched onto his leg, earning his attention, but the vines proved to be nothing more than a temporary distraction as Tom caused them all to burn up with a single snap of his fingers.

"It was foolish of you to carry out such an attack," Albus said coolly as the two began trading spells. "The Ministry will have no choice but to believe me after tonight."

Tom hurled a few more killing curses at him, so strong and powerful they spouted off various lightning bolts all over the place, setting the ground on fire. "But by then I'll have already won," Tom said cryptically. "And you will be dead."

One of Albus' spells clashed against Tom's killing curse, the combined power of the two of them sent both Albus and Tom reeling backward. It was only their respective shields that kept them from falling to the ground. It was Tom who recovered first, taking advantage as he charmed the massive wall of flames that surrounded them. It quickly grew in size, and as Albus tried to stop him with various spells and curses, Tom easily batted them away without taking his focus from the flames. Even Fawkes' attempts to intervene were stopped as the ground itself suddenly surged upwards, attacking Fawkes even as he began apparating all around the area.

The flames began to quickly animate, but before they could begin fully forming Albus raised his wand to the sky and launched a bright, white beam. It lit up the entire forest, the power from it almost pushing Albus back as every second made the beam more unstable and harder to control. It was as he saw a massive snake made of flames surge upwards and hurl itself at him that Albus pushed as much magic as he could into the spell before throwing it onto the ground. The collision resulted in a deafening sound, and Albus watched as the fierce gust of wind his spell produced not only toppled Tom over but extinguished all the flames that surrounded them.

Albus immediately turned to the last place where he had seen Bedivere, but he was nowhere to be found. And before he could try using a human-presence-revealing spell, he watched from the corner of his eye as Tom transformed into a mass of black smoke and flew upwards. Left with no choice, Albus made the split decision and flew behind him, unwilling to let him escape. Bedivere Parkinson would have to be dealt with some other time.

Ministry of Magic

12:35 a.m.

As the flames extinguished themselves around him, the Ministry Atrium was revealed to Harry and the others. It was quiet, eerily so. Besides the glaring lack of any security there to receive them, the countless shards of glass littered all over the floor were enough to prove Harry's claims to be true. Mrs Weasley gasped behind him, and he could almost feel the despair of the woman crashing against him. Harry couldn't begin to grasp how she must have been feeling. The loss of Susan had affected him deeply, sending him down a pit he had yet to fully climb out of. To have four of your children face the threat of death like this, children you birthed and raised for years and years on end, creating a bond, unlike anything Harry had ever felt… there couldn't be a pain worse than losing them.

Harry allowed himself to feel the grief that was already pouring from Mrs Weasley, but only for a second. It was an effective reminder of why he was here. Why he had given up Montague in the way he had done so. But one second was all he could allow himself.

He was the one to move first, the glass cracking under his shoes as he strode forward and looked around the Atrium for threats. His mind was working overtime, just as it had been since Mrs Weasley had forced the choice of her involvement out of his hands. And only slightly less concerning than that were Pansy's words dancing around his head. His magic might have been recharged after the night's exertion, but it was still impaired by the necessity of using someone else's wand. He was far from being back at his usual power, and even if he didn't have this encumbrance looming over his head, he didn't think he had yet reached the level of skill necessary to take down many of Voldemort's inner circle.

There was no way he was going to allow Mrs Weasley to follow him down there. And Black and Lupin were far from enough back-up for what he was facing tonight. It was time to see just what Scrimgeour was made out of.

Aurora flew over him, making her way toward the elevators as Harry turned around to face the three adults. "There are too many Death Eaters down there. We need to activate the floos and the other outside entrances if we want to get help."

"What are you suggesting?" Lupin asked, his voice quiet yet fierce.

"Someone's going to have to turn them back on."

"Let me guess, you should be the one to do it?" Black asked coldly.

"Far from it," Harry replied with the same tone. "I'm the best dueller of the four of us, and I know jack shit about how to turn on the floo network. And don't worry, I don't trust you enough to let you go on your own."

"I'll do it then," Remus said grudgingly when Mrs Weasley didn't volunteer.

"No," Harry shook his head and glared at the man. "There was a reason why I called you here. I need a werewolf to get into the real Department of Mysteries."

"The real Department of Mysteries?" Lupin asked sceptically.

"I'll explain later," Harry turned towards Molly. "Mrs Weasley, you're going to have to do it."

"Harry-"

"Please," he almost begged. "We don't have much time, I'm asking you to trust me here. We can't do this without the Aurors and I need Lupin with me. This is how you help us out. We'll save your children, but I can't go down there without knowing the Aurors are coming."

Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to argue, but the seeds Harry planted there had begun to take shape. They really didn't have time if they wanted to save her children, and as hard as it was to cede control over her children's lives, it was that instinct to make sure they were safe that was warring with her need to be a part of the rescue mission.

"I'll save them, I promise," Harry said, hoping the words would remind her that he'd managed to do that once before. And it worked as Mrs Weasley finally nodded.

"Alright," she said, though she didn't look happy.

The four of them ran towards the open elevator, where Aurora was already waiting for them, and once the buttons for both Level Six and Level Nine had been selected, the elevator quickly sprang into action. Aurora settled herself on Mrs Weasley's shoulder, singing a quiet yet powerful song that almost seemed to immediately relieve the tension in her shoulders and shave off any misgivings she might have had. Once the elevator arrived at Level Six and the doors opened, Mrs Weasley gave Harry a brief kiss on the cheek, begging him to be safe and promising she'd join them down there the moment the Aurors made it through to the Ministry. It was as Mrs Weasley disappeared into the corridor and the elevator doors sealed in front of them that silence settled between the group and a sharp prodding on his back earned Harry's attention.

"You're full of shit," Black growled into his ear, pushing the war deeper into Harry. "What are you up to?"

"Sirius…" Lupin warned.

"You have three seconds to get that wand back in its holster before my phoenix rips out your other eye," Harry whispered coldly. And though there was a second of hesitation from Black, Harry felt as if the pressure was taken away. They soon reached Level Nine, and as the three of them began to walk through the desolate passage they encountered the corpses of the Order's futile effort to stop the Death Eaters.

"Merlin…" Lupin breathed out, but Harry ignored the cluster of bodies as he continued forward. He opened the door and stepped into the dark chamber that he knew was the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Feeling the ardent sting on his mark that Bedivere had warned him about, Harry raised his hand and snapped his finger, causing one of the doors to open while the rest of them faded into obscurity.

"How did you do that?" Lupin asked.

"Magic," Harry drawled.

Harry walked through the door and headed towards the tall archway in the centre of the room. The other two followed behind him, with the door loudly closing once the three of them had made it through.

"Moony, can't you see?" Black said in a whispered growl. "He's in on this. He's luring us to our deaths."

Aurora screeched angrily above them.

"Shut up, Sirius," Lupin replied before looking around the room. "Harry, this isn't right," he suddenly said. "This isn't the Hall of Prophecies." Looking around, he grew more and more concerned by the moment. "What is this room?"

Harry ignored them, climbing up the small hill and looking hesitantly at the archway. Even knowing what it was, there was something about it that unnerved him to his very core. Even Aurora seemed to avoid the thing as she flew around the hill instead of following Harry.

"Moony…" Black's voice got higher. "I don't trust this."

"I don't care if you trust me. This is the entrance. Longbottom and the others are right through this archway."

"And how exactly do you know?" Black demanded.

"My Death Eater friends told me," Harry deadpanned. "I don't care if you trust me or not. You can either go through that portal and get your chance at killing Bellatrix, or you can stay here and wait for the Aurors to take you back into custody. Your call, Black."

Black went silent, glaring at Harry as he realised just how fucked his current predicament was, and Lupin turned towards Harry hesitantly. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"I give you my word, for whatever that's bloody worth," Harry scoffed.

"Alright," Lupin nodded and moved towards him.

"Remus!"

"We've come this far," Lupin said carefully, eying Harry. "And I trust him… I trust you."

Harry didn't particularly care but gave a stiff nod nonetheless. He didn't bring them here to make amends.

"Fine," Black spat. "But you're walking through it first."

"With pleasure," Harry rolled his eyes.

Reaching into himself and grasping onto that reckless part that couldn't seem to be satisfied unless he was on the verge of death, Harry called to Aurora and stepped into the archway the moment she had grasped onto his arm. The sensation of crossing through was nauseating, as if he was floating through space while a giant hand shook him relentlessly. He was alive but at the same time, he wasn't. He was solid but he also didn't exist. It was an uncomfortable experience, one that made the bile surge all the way up to his throat. And just as Harry was about to spew it all up, it suddenly stopped, and he was on the other side of the archway.

That's when it immediately hit him. Bedivere had warned him it would happen, and yet he hadn't been ready for it. The pain was blinding. It forced him onto his knees as he gripped his burning arm. It was as if all the blood in his arm had suddenly turned into lava, burning his insides up. "Harry," a familiar voice whispered, but he couldn't concentrate on it. He gritted his teeth, refusing to make any sound. There were suddenly more voices behind him, they were becoming more heated and louder, but before Harry could fully focus on them his eyes suddenly snapped open, and he saw it.

Everything.

All of it.

All at the same time.

In front of him were dozens, maybe even over a hundred different rooms all existing at the same time. Some were the size of a large cupboard, others were even larger than some Quidditch stadiums. Each of them had its own architectural style. Its own forces powering it. Its own sense of reality. It was almost impossible to focus on a single one of them, so much so that he was being forced into another room by the second. He couldn't find a good way to even describe it to himself, it was as if his eyes had suddenly gained X-ray vision, and he was forced to look through all the possible lenses all at the same time.

Eventually, his eyes managed to adjust. But he felt himself being transported between the rooms with barely a second of respite. There was too much information, his brain felt like it was being completely overloaded. He could barely process what he was seeing before he was transported elsewhere. He tried to stick his feet solid on the ground, as if the mere action of wanting to plant himself onto the floor would keep him tethered to whatever room. It was a fruitless action and Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to manage to control it.

He saw everything. A large hospital room with dozens of half-opened corpses of various creatures. Hundreds of trapped savage inferi and other creepy variants of living corpses. An old man trapped in a glass cage muttering "he's not me, he's not me," over and over and over again. There were Death Eaters launching curses. A one-armed boy pounding the walls of a small room.

Harry was shifting in and out of these rooms continuously for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't as if he was being pulled or pushed into them, more like the entire world was moving while he was standing still. He saw dozens of things he couldn't really understand, and it wasn't until he saw a bloodied, crumpled form with red hair shaking on the floor that everything finally stopped. The shock and utter dread he felt must have snapped him into control as Harry crossed through the mostly empty room and knelt beside the figure.

It was a boy, and that immediately appeased most of his fears, but it was still a Weasley. He gently turned the figure over, flinching as the body audibly cracked when he did, only to find Fred Weasley shaking, barely breathing, looking up at him as if he was Voldemort reincarnate. "P-please…" he breathed out as blood continued pooling all over his chest and stomach. But those were barely surface wounds compared to how contorted his upper body was from his lower.

Too afraid to move him, Harry was left with no option until there was a sudden surge of fire above him and Aurora suddenly appeared. The phoenix gently descended onto the Weasley boy, its tears healing the gashes on his torso and chest, but even its effects weren't enough to heal the internal injuries of whatever curse had twisted his back in such a way. Tightly gripping Fred's arm, Aurora disappeared in a bright light, leaving Harry alone in the room once again.

And though Fred's exit meant there were fewer people to save, Harry wasn't sure if he was keeping his promise to Mrs Weasley by returning her son to her in such a state.

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

Welcome to the GRAND FIFTH-YEAR FINALE! Sit back and enjoy, we're going to be here a while ;)

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