Poll Results:
Moody:13, Molly: 6, Arthur:1, Sirius: negative 7. None of the above (the correct answer): 1.
3 April 2021 Update: I have slightly altered this chapter, changing it so that Harry has some alternatives. The altered text is in italics.
Chapter 33: The Death Chamber
Professor Severus Snape had not died. Nor had he succumbed to some strange, crazy accident where he lost a limb, his memories, his magic, or his reputation.
Normally, this would not be a surprising fact.
Even as a spy in Voldemort's ranks, playing the part of a "double agent" in Dumbledore's employ, pretending to secretly feed information to The Dark Lord while actually doing just the opposite, it was really no surprise that Severus had not been discovered and murdered in some macabre fashion. Severus was perfect as a spy, and as hard as it might be for his detractors (such as Sirius Black) to admit, a highly competent wizard and a nearly perfect occlumens. No, as difficult as Severus Snape's role was, he was equal to the task.
The reason why it actually was shocking that he had not met some grim fate is that for the past year he had taken up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. This was a post which had for decades been cursed so powerfully that no teacher had managed to remain in the job for a second consecutive year, most of the previous holders of the position falling afoul of something dreadful and often fatal partway through their term. Yet, here he was, back teaching the Sixth and Seventh years the subject once more, as hale and healthy as someone of his constitution could be expected to be.
Perhaps it was because this year he had taken the title of Senior Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the black haired potions master mused as he mixed the ingredients for an exstimulo potion, watching as the concoction turned a satisfying dark blue. Or perhaps it was because he did not use the same office this year, instead working out of the Head of Slytherin House office. Severus let the thin smile on his face turn into a smirk as he thought of who was occupying the potentially cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts office this year.
Junior Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry Potter. Perhaps the curse would take hold of that dratted boy, and then it would all be on Albus Dumbledore for causing such an arrangement in the first place. His hands would be clean.
As he thought of James Potter's son, the smirk disappeared. His "junior assistant" would undoubtedly throw off any curse that attempted to harm him. The boy—if a wizard of his strength could really be termed such—had surprised him with his growth and power. And worst of all, Severus had to admit Harry Potter was competent, well-mannered, and not at all insufferable. Which meant his feelings of loathing towards James Potter's son were entirely irrational and undeserved.
He probably was doing it on purpose.
"Professor!" Harry Potter exclaimed as he burst into his office.
Perhaps Severus should reconsider his opinion of the boy's manners.
"It comes as no surprise to me that your degenerate of a godfather has not seen to instill proper decorum in you, Potter, but I will not have you bursting into my office chambers—"
"It's Voldemort!" Potter replied flatly, his hand going up to massage the scar on his forehead.
In years past, Severus might have taken that act as a sign of Harry's need for attention, drawing everyone's gaze to the mark that had made him famous. Severus had detested that the boy would attempt to elicit sympathy by such an obvious display, and had even more detested how unsophisticated a ploy it had been. Now that Severus Snape had been made aware that there was a literal psychic connection between Potter and the Dark Lord focused through the scar, however, he no longer felt contempt for the act. Instead, he was alarmed.
Severus rose from his desk and quickly hurried over to Potter. "What has happened?" he demanded. The potions master locked his dark eyes on the younger wizard—not attempting legilmency—rather searching the boy's expression. "What did you see?"
"He's taken Sirius!"
There was a part of Severus Snape's heart that thrilled at that answer, at the prospect of Sirius Black in the hands of the Dark Lord. If anyone deserved the cruelty that Voldemort could inflict, it was that man. But, this was not a time for petty revenge, and the greater part of Severus Snape pushed that churlish impulse aside to focus on the task at hand. First, he must discern if this vision was credible—perhaps this was a ploy from the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had confided in him that Sirius was off on a secret mission for the Order, which he had then dutifully informed Voldemort of (just as Dumbledore had instructed), so there was a possibility that Black's capture was genuine.
"Details, Potter. Where does the Dark Lord have him?" Snape tried to keep the snideness out of his voice, though not very successfully.
Harry Potter related the scenes from his vision with anxious haste, describing the feeling of glee in Voldemort's heart as he appeared out of the shadows from behind and captured Sirius Black with a debilitating cruciatus curse. Then the scene changed and Voldemort, along with a few Death Eaters, were dragging Sirius into a large room—the Hall of Prophecies inside the Ministry of Magic Department of Mysteries—and were torturing him for information on the Trelawney prophecy stored there. The description was disjointed, as to be expected from such a vision, but the explanation of the feelings of glee seemed somewhat artificial.
There was a chance Sirius Black was truly captured, but to Severus Snape's analytical mind, it seemed more likely that this were a gambit of the Dark Lord. Voldemort would gladly give up knowledge of the link between he and Potter, which he was unaware that the Headmaster had already known, for the opportunity to obtain the prophecy. The timing was too coincidental with the Headmaster out of the school and the details of Black's mission unknown, but the possibility remained that the vision was real and the Dark Lord was merely allowing to images to come to Potter as bait.
"I will handle this, Potter. The Headmaster is away but I can contact him," Severus said, drawing his wand and preparing to summon his patronus. "The Order—"
"There's no time!" Harry exclaimed, already heading towards the door. "Sirius needs me right now! I'm going myself. You let the Order know and send help after me."
Of all the dunderheaded ideas Harry Potter had ever entertained, this was, by far the most foolish, most Gryffindorish of all. Only an absolute imbecile would rush in so recklessly. Even were Potter capable of fighting the Dark Lord evenly, which Severus Snape was highly doubtful of no matter the boy's prodigious growth, Potter would be walking directly into a trap and be at an enormous disadvantage. This was exactly what Voldemort wanted.
"Don't be a fool," Severus hissed, grabbing the younger wizard by the arm. "While it is possible that your godfather is being held by the Dark Lord—"
Harry pulled his arm away from the potions master and fixed the older wizard with a determined stare. "We all have our role to play here, Snape. I have mine, and you have yours. I'm going to do mine….you, do what you must."
And then Potter walked out the door, leaving Snape to gape after him.
Snape's eyes narrowed. Either his junior assistant was acting like he was exactly the kind of fool he had always thought him to be, or he had become the same kind of ruthless manipulator Dumbledore was. Either way, it was sufficient justification for his hate of James Potter's son. That was, at least, some comfort.
Severus Snape closed his eyes and focused his occlumency inward on his thoughts and memories. Carefully, he pushed away his suspicions that Potter was aware that his visions were being manipulated, focusing on his loyal service to the Dark Lord. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes. After just a second's pause, he pulled out a quill and parchment and scratched out a message .
"Tikky," Snape called out.
A small strange looking creature with floppy ears appeared. "Is Master Snapesees needing something?" the Hogwarts house-elf asked.
"Yes," the Senior Defense Against the Dark Arts professor replied. "Take this letter. Wait ten minutes, and then deliver it to the Headmaster, no matter where he is."
The creature bobbed its head and took the proffered letter. "Tikky will deliver the letter to Master Albus Dumbldore as Master Snapesees says."
When the house-elf left, Severus Snape collected himself and headed to the floo. His master would need to know this, he repeated in his mind. Throwing a handful of floo-powder down, he said "Malfoy Manor" and vanished in a flash of green flames.
Weasley Seer
Harry Potter took a deep breath after stepping out of Snape's office. Severus Snape may be a greasy, hateful git, but he was observant and never easy to fool. Harry felt ever-so-slightly guilty that he would not be letting the man know that he was fully aware that Sirius was safe. Checking with Sirius in their two-way mirror was the first thing he had done after that disturbing dream. Contacting Dumbledore himself was the second thing he had done.
Now Harry prepared himself for what was sure to be a rather difficult encounter. While he was confident that help from the Order of the Phoenix would arrive on time, he was also sure that fooling the Death Eaters would be difficult enough and a direct confrontation with the dark wizards would be likely. Even knowing what he did about magic, this was as a dangerous mission he was about to undertake.
Harry made his way back to his Defense Against the Dark Arts office. From there, he would use the floo network to travel directly to the Ministry of Magic. Though after hours there was a minimal security staff, Harry was certain that the Death Eaters would already have handled that for him. It was just a matter of flooing in and—
"And where exactly do you think you are going, Harry Potter?" a voice called out, sending a warning chill down Harry's spine.
Harry waved his hand and a disillusionment charm collapsed, revealing two people he had hoped to avoid running across this night. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were revealed standing there, Hermione with her hands on her hips and Ron with a rather smug "caught you" look on his face.
"Well, to my office, of course," Harry answered gesturing towards the door of the office that was rightfully his.
"At midnight?" Hermione asked imperiously, "after a nightmare you had that was so horrible you called out in your sleep, waking Ron? After conjuring a patronus in the middle of your bedroom?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "Um….yes?"
"Harry, mate, did you think I wouldn't notice you casting a patronus charm or talking to Sirius and then Dumbledore? Really?" Ron asked with a tsking sound. "When I tell my brothers how sloppy you were, getting caught by me, they are going to be so disappointed in you."
Harry sighed. This was going to be dangerous. Very dangerous. And while he had faith that his two best friends could handle themselves against adult wizards, even Death Eaters, he had no intention of risking them when he could just go himself and they would stay safe.
"Look, guys, I know you two can take care of yourself, but what I'm about to do is really, really dangerous, and…"
"And you think we are going to let you go risk yourself without anyone to go with you?" Hermione asked giving Harry a hard stare.
"I won't be alone there for long," Harry argued. "The Order already knows."
"We are part of the Order," Hermione retorted, "or did you forget?"
"Besides," Ron added, "do you think the Death Eaters will really believe you are going to go into this alone? Without the two of us? If you really want to convince them that you're giving up Professor Trelawney's prophecy, they're going to have to believe this is real. And the best chance of that is if we all three go together."
Harry hesitated. The Death Eaters seeing through this ruse was something he had considered. If Voldemort suspected that Dumbledore wanted him to hear the whole prophecy, if he even suspected the nature of prophecy, that would endanger the entire plan. But weighed against the lives of his best friends?
"Would you let one of us go into danger without you?" Ron demanded, seeing Harry's hesitation. "Mates don't let mates face certain doom alone, Harry. So, am I your best mate or not?"
Before Harry had a chance to even try to answer that, Hermione looked him right in the eyes and added, "And am I your girlfriend, or not?"
Harry couldn't tell how serious she was, but he was not about to risk losing his relationship with her. He threw up his hands and led them into to his office. "Together then," he said as he grabbed the floo powder.
Weasley Seer
The Ministry of Magic was eerily empty, the security at the entrance of the hall was unmanned, just as Harry had expected. The trio of friends made their way to the elevators which would take them to the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy. The three of them were fortunate to have previously made the trip with the Headmaster and so were familiar with how to navigate the intentionally confusing Room of Doors.
As they stepped into the Hall of Prophecies, Harry immediately felt the a darkness that had not been there before. Shadowy smoke billowed along the chambers walls and covered the floor and ceiling. He felt an uneasy, murky feeling of dread begin to steal over him.
"Wands out. The dark mist is trying to make us fearful," Harry told his friends. "Use occlumency to block out its effects."
Doing that himself, he pushed the influence of the mist outside of his mind, though he could still feel it all around him, Harry could tell it was designed so that a simple finite incantatum would not suffice, but he expected it would not be too difficult to dispel. Letting the mist remain would probably help sell the ruse that he would be willing to give up the prophecy.
"Follow me. The place I saw Sirius is just up ahead."
The three made their way through the numerous rows of shelves until they came to a familiar intersection, where Sybil Trelawney's prophecies resided. When they arrived, there was nothing there but darkness. Lots of darkness.
Harry scowled at the shadows. "Come out, Death Eaters. I can sense where you are."
Four areas where the mist was thickest faded away, revealing four black robed wizards with silvery-white masks obscuring their faces. The four dark wizards moved to box in the three Hogwarts students.
"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked, unperturbed by their movements.
One of the dark robed figures spoke, its voice altered by a spell to sound more menacing, while remaining unrecognizable. "Sirius Black refused to reveal information on the prophecy concerning the Dark Lord," the Death Eater said with a hiss. "He has been taken to the Death Chamber where he will die….unless you retrieve the prophecy for the Dark Lord."
Harry extended one hand towards the Death Eater ahead of him and to the left, sending the figure to crumple to the ground with a silent depulso. With his wand hand, he brought the one who had spoken to his knees with a whisper of poena, using man's guilt for his own misdeeds to wrack him with pain.
Ron and Hermione were a half second behind Harry, but their twin stupefy charms were faster than the Death Eaters' reactions and those two collapsed as well. Without an opponent left to cast rennervate, it was safe to leave them stunned.
Harry approached the downed Death Eater and glared at the kneeling wizard. "Release Sirius, now."
The man visibly moaned in pain, the searing of his conscience translating into physical pain. Though hardly on the level of the cruciatus, the poena hex was certainly still effective against those who were wicked yet still had a sense of remorse.
"I—can't, Potter….please…." the man struggled, the voice modulation making the pleading almost comical. Harry, not being the vindictive type, eased up the pressure from the hex. "The only way you can save him is to get the prophecy. Then they'll let him go."
"Harry," Ron said, "You've got to. He's your godfather."
Harry stood there a moment, then threw his hands up. "Fine!" He stalked over to the shelf where the prophecy was held and took it from its spot, automatically nullifying the protections on the orb. He held it up for the Death Eater to see.
"Ok, Potter," the Death Eater said, extending his hands. "Give it to me and I'll go tell them to release Sirus Black. I swear it."
Harry shook his head. "Bring me to where Sirius is and I'll hand over the orb. Not until then."
The man shuddered, the effects of the punishment hex Harry had used still affecting him. "If you hand over the prophecy orb they'll let him go; that was the plan they told me. But if you caused trouble….well….it's a trap there for you, Potter. They plan to kill ya there if you go to the Death chamber."
"Trap or no trap, you will take me there," Harry demanded, pointing his wand back towards the downed Death Eater, once more increasing the pain of the man's misdeeds to intolerable levels.
"Ok, ok!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the wands of the three downed Death Eaters and bound them with an incarcerous spell before following the last remaining Death Eater back to the Room of Doors where they would go to the Death Chamber. As soon as they stepped into the place, Harry began to hear whispers.
"Potter brought it," the Death Eater called out as soon as he was in earshot. The man, also relieved of his wand, scampered off to the side. Harry and his friends entered, wands at the ready.
The Death Chamber was one of several areas within the Department of Mysteries Harry had never been. The large rectangular room was filled with benches, as if it were some sort of amphitheater which all led down to a pit in the middle of the room. An ancient stone archway stood in the middle, with nothing holding it up and an odd, tattered black cloth hanging in the middle. Harry could hear the whispers coming from there, but could not make out what was being said.
But this was not the time to think about mysteries like that.
In front of the archway were three figures, each bound with rope, and a dozen robed and masked Death Eaters flanked them. All but one wore the same garb, the last, a female with a pale complexion, dark sunken eyes that were nonetheless bright with madness, and long, dark curly hair that cascaded around her. Harry recognized her from photographs his godfather had shown him after her escape from Azkaban: Bellatrix Lestrange. Voldemort's most trusted lieutenant and most deadly of followers.
"Hand over the prophecy, boy," Bellatrix said with a demanding tone. "And then I will release dear old Sirius to you."
The central figure certainly looked like Sirius, but Harry would have known from the look of fear on the man's face and the lack of concern for him that it was a fake even if he hadn't already known his godfather had not been captured. They had probably used polyjuice potion, judging by how the man's mouth had been sealed shut, as were the mouths of the other two captives.
"Mum!" Ron called out in shock and anger, recognizing Molly Weasley as the captive on the left.
The third captive was another familiar face: Mad-Eye Moody. Harry put a restraining hand on his best friend, keeping him from charging forward. The two made eye contact and Harry shook his head ever-so-slightly. He hoped his friend would be clued in.
"Release them, Lestrange," Harry answered. "Do that and I swear I will give you the prophecy, but not before."
At that, Bellatrix's eyes lit up even further. "Oooh, looks like Potter knows how to play! Little, ickle Potter."
And then she pointed her wand at the false Sirius and called out "Crucio!"
The man screamed and thrashed in his bindings. It was then that Harry caught sight of the uniform under the man's robe and realized who he was: Eric Munch, the guard who should have been on duty at the security desk. The other two captives were likely also Ministry personnel unfortunate enough to be captured.
Harry held up the orb, getting Bellatrix's attention, ending the torture.
"Hurt any of them again, for even one second, and I will smash it!" Harry shouted. "How will your 'Dark Lord' feel when he finds out you failed him?" Harry asked. "I actually have a pretty good idea." Harry tapped his head to his scar and smiled thinly.
Bellatrix glared at him furiously. "You wouldn't!"
Harry lit up his wand with a blasting curse held in its tip. "Try me," he countered.
After a moment's hesitation, Bellatrix threw her head back and cackled. "Seems Potter has more a spine to him then I thought. Cut them loose," she ordered. "But if that prophecy is not in my hand before they get halfway to the steps, we'll kill them all."
Three of the masked Death Eaters moved to cut the bindings of the captives, each of the transformed guards scrambling to get away from the dark wizards as fast as they could. Seeing their release, Harry held up the prophecy orb and let it fly slowly over to Bellatrix's waiting fingers using the levitation charm he learned from Flitwick in his first year. As soon as her fingers were on the prophecy, Harry erected a shield that extended behind the polymorphed guards.
"Get out of the Ministry!" he told them as they tried to stop and thank him. He unbound their mouths with a single flick of his wand, and urged them on their way.
"Harry, we should get out of here," Hermione suggested.
"Oh, you won't be going anywhere," Bellatrix said with a laugh, and green flame erupted around the room, cutting them off from the exits the captives had just gone through.
That was when there were several flashes of white light, and a half dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix appeared, apparating into the Death Chamber with their bodies partially transformed into pillars of light. The arrival of Sirius Black and Mad-Eye Moody let Harry release a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. It was one thing to know in his mind that the vision from Voldemort had been faked, it was a different one to know in his heart that his godfather was safe. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Molly Weasley were the remainder of the reinforcements.
Severus had done his job perfectly.
"Dumbledore will be here a bit later," Shacklebolt informed them. "He had business with the goblins that couldn't be delayed, but he'll be here."
Harry nodded. He didn't expect to need the Headmaster.
But he was wrong.
Harry had expected the remaining Death Eaters to leave as soon as the Order arrived. The plan to get the prophecy to Voldemort had succeeded. The dark wizards had what they wanted, so it was only logical that they would disapparate and escape.
He hadn't counted on Bellatrix and several of the most recent Azkaban escapees believing that they still had the upper hand. So, when Bellatrix began throwing curses and the eleven Death Eaters joined in, he was momentarily surprised. He parried a couple of curses that had been flung his way, but did not counter-attack.
This was a more chaotic battle than most, with the more skilled Order members and several of Voldemort's most powerful Inner Circle members making liberal use of short range apparition, their bodies condensing down to pillars of insubstantial smoke, moving about the chamber at high speeds. While there were some dangers involved with this form of combat and this method of apparition was a bit slower, it was safer than standard apparition in a combat situation as the incorporeality avoided any chance of splinching and allowed one to be fully aware of the environment around them.
Hermione and Ron, the only two incapable of this form of combat apparition worked together as a duo. They alternated between offense and defense with one shielding or countering while the other attacked. Despite still being Hogwarts students facing not just adult wizards, but some of the most dangerous in all of Magical Britain, the two of them were doing just fine.
Harry himself had yet to unleash his full attack, instead shielding Order members when they looked to be overwhelmed and strategically striking out with curses that would weaken the Death Eaters rather than simply vanquish them entirely. In fact, Harry Potter had no fear of losing the battle at all. Only Bellatrix Lestrange was a concern for the young wizard, and not because he found her to be a credible threat. He was worried because she was still holding the prophecy in one of her hands while she threw curses with the other.
And then what Harry feared came to pass.
"Accio prophecy!" his godfather called out, gesturing with his wand and managing to yank it out of Bellatrix's hands.
Bellatrix Lestrange managed to wandlessly summon the prophecy just as it left her hands, and Sirius and her engaged in a short tug-o-war over the small, delicate sphere flying back and forth through the air between them. Bellatrix and Sirius cast hex after hex at each other, each trying to force their cousin to let go. And that's when it happened.
Sirius had wound up battling just in front of the Veil, which had continued to whisper to Harry throughout the fight. Bellatrix lined up a Killing Curse, the words already on her lips as she brought her wand forward, as if in slow motion. Harry apparated, gathering up his godfather and moved him away from the green bolt of death, barely managing to not get hit by the curse. Unfortunately, this caused Sirius to lose his concentration on his summoning charm, and the prophecy flew back to Bellatrix.
Only, it exploded as soon as it hit Bellatrix Lestrange's hand as it was hit by a blast from Ron Weasley. Ron had been trying to hit her while she was vulnerable, never expecting to hit the prophecy orb. Ron's jaw dropped, realizing what he had done.
The ghostly voice of Sybil Trelawney as recorded in the prophecy began reciting it right next to Bellatrix.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…
"Confringo!"
A deafening explosion rocked the stone stands around Bellatrix, chunks of rock flying in all directions. Whether the spectral voice managed to continue relaying the rest of the prophecy despite the explosion or not, nobody was able to hear as cacophonous blasting curse made everyone's ears ring. When the ringing sound stopped, there was no longer any chance of hearing the prophecy. Moody held his staff in his hands with a smirk, pleased with his handiwork, having kept the message from Voldemort's ears.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were devastated. Months of work setting this up, countless risks taken, and worst of all, the sacrifice of Sybil Trelawney was now all for naught.
The only person more distraught than those three was Bellatrix Lestrange. A strangled cry emerged from her lips as she realized she had failed her master. And then she turned and began firing curse after curse, making her previous efforts seem like play in comparison.
If not for Harry apparating around shielding, deflecting, and countering her onslaught of dark magic, several of the Order members would have died. Despite no longer needing to hold back, it wasn't Harry who first hit Bellatrix, though. It was Hermione. She managed to slip a stunner between Bellatrix's shields. Unfortunately, as skilled and as powerful as Hermione was, Bellatrix Lestrange was on a different level.
The witch paused mid-casting, shuddered momentarily, then threw off the charm. Bellatrix laughed, but there was no humor in the sound, only insanity.
"You think you can play, you stupid, mudblood?" Bellatrix called out before snapping three curses in rapid succession, knocking Ron back and tearing down his protego shield, freezing Hermione in place, and culminating in the Avada Kedavra curse.
Harry saw it coming. He had half a dozen ways he could save Hermione with little risk. He could have transfigured a wall or summoned an object to interpose. He could have banished Hermione out of the way, or summoned her away. He had even been experimenting with a spell that would have caused Hermione to apparate away from the Death Chamber entirely or simply activated her emergency portkey before Lestrange completed her spell. But Harry Potter wanted to make this an even greater victory.
Harry appeared in front of Hermione, arms spread out wide, as the green curse of death struck.
He collapsed to the ground, soundlessly.
Hermione shrieked. Ron screamed. Sirius wailed.
And then Bellatrix Lestrange laughed. "I killed Harry Potter!" she called out tauntingly. "I killed Harry Potter!" she repeated in as sing-song voice. "I killed—"
"Ugh, that stung," Harry said as he got back to his feet, shocking everyone, especially an incredulous Bellatrix Lestrange.
Hermione didn't hesitate, she threw her arms around Harry, in the middle of combat or not. Ron stood there shaking his head, a grin on his face. The Order of the Phoenix cheered. "The-Boy-Who-Lives!" came their cry.
"Impossible," Bellatrix protested. "Only the Dark Lord is that strong."
"You need to add Dumbledore and me to that list," Harry replied. "You had your shot at me. Now, it's my turn." Harry raised his wand.
The nine Death Eaters who had survived the battle disapparated, leaving two of their number behind dead or incapacitated. Bellatrix hesitated only a moment, then followed, the black smoke of her form flying upwards. This was exactly what he had hoped for when he chose to take Killing Curse head on. But it had come at a far higher cost than he had expected.
Harry didn't want to chase the Death Eaters. The truth was, Bellatrix's Killing Curse had nearly gotten him. It had taken all of his willpower and a massive amount of magic from within to throw off that curse. The whispers from beyond the archway had become suddenly clear, and Harry now knew that they were the voices of the dead. He had heard his parents' voices, and nearly crossed over.
But, Harry couldn't afford to let the rest of the Order know that; he needed them to believe he was strong, that the prophecy would be fulfilled, that he could shrug off curses from even the most powerfulf of Voldemort's lieutenants without issue. Further, he couldn't afford for the Death Eaters to think he was weakened; he needed them to doubt Voldemort's victory. For if Belltrix Lestrange could almost kill Harry Potter with the killing curse, then of course Voldemort could surely succeed. He needed them all to believe it had been easy for him to survive rather than the near thing it was.
"Follow me," Harry ordered. Then he disapparated to follow where the Death Eaters had gone.
He never would have tried to pursue if he had known he would succeed in catching up to them. Back in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic the group quickly caught up Bellatrix. The Order of the Phoenix arrived behind him, along with Ron and Hermione. However, Bellatrix wasn't alone.
"Please milord," she begged on her knees. "Forgive me for not protecting the prophecy."
There was Voldemort, black robes and pale snake-like face and all standing right there. Waiting for them.
"Ah, Bella, Bella, Bella. I am so disappointed. However, since you managed to bring me one more line of the prophecy, I will forgive you," the snake headed dark wizard said, cupping his hand under his devotee's chin.
"Voldemort!" Harry gasped.
The red-eyed man stood and turned to face him, a scowl on his face. "You have managed to thwart me once more, Harry Potter. You have taken something from me that I dearly wanted. Which is why I will now take something from you."
Voldemort was faster than Bellatrix, even faster than Harry, really. He jabbed his wand forwards and called out the words to the Killing Curse. But rather than aiming at the Boy-Who-Lived, Voldemort had a different target. The curse flew straight towards Harry Potter's best mate, Ron Weasley.
Harry should have used transfiguration to block the spell, but he was so tired and drained from nearly dying just a minute before that the idea did not occur to him, and perhaps he would have been too slow if he had tired. Harry should have pushed Ron out of the way using a banisher, or drew him closer using the summoning charm. If his mind were working at its normal speed and if he were not so magically exhausted, he would have done so. Instead, he did something incredibly brave, but considering his most recent experience with that method of bravery, something incredibly foolish.
Harry Potter apparated directly in front of Ron, just as he had for Hermione. But this time, it was in front of Voldemort's Killing Curse, not Bellatrix Lestrange's.
Harry should have died right there. He should, by all rights, have been struck by the curse and keeled over lifelessly. However, that is not what happened.
Instead, there was a sudden burst of fire directly in front of Harry. A bird made of flame, Fawkes, appeared in the air and within the flame came the form of Albus Dumbledore.
That's who Voldemort's killing curse struck.
For a moment afterwards, Albus Dumbledore and Fawkes were frozen in that position, phoenix and man as one. For a moment, Harry Potter thought that Dumbledore would survive the Killing Curse. For a moment, he thought everything would be okay.
But then, to Harry Potter's horror, the great Headmaster of Hogwarts and his phoenix turned to ash.
Author's Note: One more chapter to go! I'm hoping to finish before the end of the pandemic! Seriously, thanks for reading and sorry for the slow update pace. I do a lot of writing for work and it burns me out for fanfiction.
If you've enjoyed it please leave me a review. I'd really like to get to 1000, but I need 200 more. It's entirely for my ego. So, please, for my ego, leave me a few reviews.