Chapter 17: The Department of Mysteries

—

"Change of plans. We're not going," Harry said, flopping down in his favorite chintz armchair in the dark corner of Dumbledore's office."

"Harry, my boy, we've been planning this defense for months," Dumbledore replied. "Why the change of heart?"

"I can't risk the lives of anyone I care about," Harry sighed. "I won't let them die for me."

"So you wish to allow Lord Voldemort to recover the prophecy unhindered?" Dumbledore asked. "We have an advantage, Harry. We know where he will be. We should press the advantage. You told me he must strike you with the killing curse himself… that this is the only way to remove the bit of his soul from you and allow you to live. We planned to orchestrate this series of events tomorrow when he attacks."

"I'm still going to make that happen, Sir," Harry said. "I said we aren't going… I'm going."

"Harry…"

"I won't let anyone die for me!" Harry said, jumping to his feet. "I've fought this battle at the department of mysteries many times, Sir. We never win it."

"Harry, the number of Voldemort's remaining followers is dwindling. We will have them outnumbered three to one."

"We will battle him elsewhere at a different time," Harry retorted as he began to pace. He sure did a lot of pacing these days. "I have too many bad memories of that place. We agreed that I'm in charge of our war effort, Sir, or have you forgotten?"

"I have not forgotten, Harry…" Dumbledore said simply. "Very well, we will not lead a full scale defense of the ministry tomorrow. But you will not go alone either. I will come with you."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "But you'll stay hidden under the cloak until he kills me. My soul will probably be gone for a few minutes. You can try to stealthily recover my body with the cloak. Our plan will be to run away to fight another day in a different place."

"I thought you might try to dissuade me from coming," Dumbledore said curiously. "Do you care less for me than the others? I am sorry if I have ever done anything to cause you to feel this way."

"Why would I prevent you from coming?" Harry asked. "You can't die in a duel. You can't even lose a duel. You've got The Elder Wand.

"I… should have known that you would know," Dumbledore replied hesitantly.

"I know about the other hallows too," Harry replied. "You wear that damn ring all the time… you weren't even subtle about it. Tell me, Sir… is speaking to Ariana a comfort to you? Or does it just bring more sorrow?"

Dumbledore frowned and hesitated for a moment. "Neither," he said finally. "It has not brought me peace like I thought it would. I thought telling her I am sorry for what happened would help. But alas, I feel just as guilty as ever."

"And what of being The Master of Death, Sir?" Harry pressed. "You have been The Master of Death ever since I lent you the cloak. Do you feel powerful? Was it worth hunting down the hallows?"

"I feel no differently," Dumbledore sighed. "Even if I did feel differently, it would not have been worth losing Ariana. I would do anything to go back and prevent what happened."

"So you do understand why I won't allow the others to come with us then?" Harry asked. "I've been given the opportunity to go back and prevent what happened, just like you describe."

"Yes, Harry, I suppose I do understand," Dumbledore sighed. "Thank you for talking to me about her, Harry* Dumbledore sniffed. "I didn't realize how badly I needed to talk about her."

To Harry's dismay, he noticed that Dumbledore had begun to cry softly.

"I'll be having my cloak back, please, Sir," Harry said. "Seeing as you have gained nothing from becoming the Master of Death and don't need it to become invisible anyways…"

Dumbledore blinked away the tears and sat up straighter. "Yes, Harry, of course." The older man handed the artifact over. "Well then… Thank you for coming to speak with me yet again, Harry, my boy. I will see you here tomorrow for our mission."

"Thanks you, Sir," Harry replied, moving to the door to leave. "Good night."

—

"Harry," Tracey's voice called out. Harry looked up from the fire. He'd sat staring blankly into the fire for nearly ten minutes now. Tracey, Blaze, and Harry were alone in the Slytherin common room.

"I've asked you to call me Sir, haven't I?" Harry replied coldly.

"Y…yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. It will take some getting used to but I can do that," Tracey responded quickly.

"What do you want?" Harry asked her. "You two can go to bed. I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Sir," Tracey said, putting a hand on his arm. "We need to talk about what happened. You're hurting… So are we."

"We cared about Daphne too… Sir," Blaze said softly.

"I don't care about anything anymore," Harry said. Tracey fidgeted in her seat. "Except for the two of you of course… my loyal friends, he added casually, though there wasn't a hint of tenderness in the declaration. "Talk about her amongst yourselves. I don't wish to dwell on the loss. I just want to focus on killing Voldemort and all of his followers."

"The DA is about self defense," Blaze said. "Not everyone will join you. You need a new name for your followers, Sir," Blaze said.

"You're good with names, Tracey," Harry said. "What should I call my amry?"

"How about Light Bringers," Tracey smiled. "Our goal is to purge evil from this world after all."

"Seems like an ironic name considering we're going to start learning dark arts spells," Harry chuckled. "But I like it. If Voldemort and his followers are using dark magic we should too…"

"You will lead us to greatness, Sir," Tracey smiled.

"Nothing will stand in our way," said Blaze.

—

Harry knew that Dumbledore suspected he was responsible for Umbridge's sudden change of heart. But the old man had thankfully looked the other way.

Once the imperioused Umbridge had turned on Fudge and gotten him sacked, she wasn't useful to Harry anymore. He instructed her to resign and move to America which she'd done over Christmas break. Professor Moody had taken over Defense Against the Dark Arts classes in addition to running the dueling club.

Harry was currently pacing back and forth in the aisle next to his own prophecy at the department of mysteries. He had silenced his footsteps and was under his cloak. He was itching to kill someone. He knew Dumbledore was also invisible, hidden nearby, waiting to recover Harry after Voldemort struck him down.

Harry had gone back and forth many times regarding if he should kill people or not. Ginny had listened. She didn't try to tell him what to do, she'd just listened. In the end, he'd decided that killing was inevitable… it was required… but to avoid going dark, he'd draw the line at Death Eaters. Being evil wasn't enough of a reason for him to kill. Not even siding with Death Eaters was enough of a reason. That's why Umbridge has been spared. She never took the mark.

Suddenly, Harry heard footsteps. How arrogant of them to not silence themselves. He backed away to a place where he could take cover if needed and waited. And then, there they were. Voldemort had taken his whole army… or whatever remained of it after his botched attack on Azkaban that is. Leading the way was Augustus Rookwood, the Unspeakable. There was also Crabbe Snr, Goyle Snr, Nott Snr, and Avery. Next came Lord Voldemort himself, followed closely by Dolohov, Yaxley, Jugson, Mulciber, and Selwyn.Nott, Avery,

"It is here, My Lord," Rookwood said. "The prophecy you seek is here."

"Told you this would be easy," Dolohov said quietly to Yaxley. Harry smirked. He knew he probably couldn't kill them all, but he'd decided then and there that Dolohov would be first.

The Death Eaters had their guards down. They were all crowded around their master. Harry got into position right behind the group under the cloak and exhaled. It was now or never. He wondered how many he could take out before they found him out.

He poked the tip of his wand out from under the cloak and went with a spell he knew would be lethal. As Voldemort reached down to recover the memory, Harry silently casted sectumsempra, directing the spell at the back of Dolohov's neck. He didn't allow the noise or the blood to distract him from immediately repeating the spell on Jugson. The remaining Death Eaters all wildly cast spells in various directions. Harry just continued firing his spells. Only the top of his wand was poking out from under the cloak. He repeated the spell two more times in quick succession, missing one spell and taking out Selwyn with the other before Voldemort hit him with a blasting hex. The cloak was undamaged but it was knocked off of him as Harry fell to the ground. From the ground, Harry cast his spell one more time hitting Mulciber in the arm before Voldemort disarmed him.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort hissed. "Impressive… but foolish."

"Get bent, Tom," Harry groaned, clutching his side where the curse had landed.

"You dare taunt me? Crucio!" Voldemort yelled. For a brief moment, Harry felt pain like he had not yet experienced in this lifetime. He hoped the torture wouldn't last long. He prayed for death. The sooner Voldmort stopped playing with him, the sooner he would be resurrected.

"No!" came a voice Harry wished he hadn't heard. No sooner had Voldemort started his torture curse when he was forced to end it to defend himself. Dumbledore had stepped out of the shadows to defend Harry… to prevent the torture.

' Stupid, man,' Harry thought. ' He was supposed to let it happen!'

With all the Death Eaters focusing now of Voldemort, Harry had an opening… and he didn't need a wand to kill. "Sectumsempra!" he shouted, now unable to cast silently without his wand. The dark cutter bursted out of his open palm and struck Rookwood in the shoulder. Dumbledore had petrified Goyle and Nott and stunned Crabbe. Harry couldn't believe Dumbledore. This was war! He needed to take them out!

Wandless casting took a great deal of energy. He was feeling particularly drained due to the carictus he's just sustained, even if it had only been for a second. He needed a moment to recover. Harry ran to Dumbledore as Dumbledore switched to shielding tactics. The old man even took a moment to summon the invisibility cloak and ball it up under his arm. "What are you doing?" Harry hissed when he got to Dumbledore's side. "This wasn't the plan!"

"I couldn't stand by and watch him torture you, Harry," Dumbledore replied.

"You're a fool," Harry grunted as the two retreated towards another room. "At least stop stunning and try to kill them!"

Dumbledore didn't react to this comment. Harry opened the door which led to the spinning room. "I'm getting you out of here and then you're going to give me your wand and I'm going back in there," Harry said, closing the door behind them. The room spun and Harry lost track of which door they'd come from.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore said, leading Harry to another door. "I will disable them all and then I will duel Voldemort. I cannot lose. I have the Wand of Destiny. Once I disarm him I will push him through this veil. It is a gateway to the afterlife."

To Harry's horror, he looked up and say the veil of death. Dumbledore had led Harry intentionally to the death room. "No, you idiot, this was the room I was avoiding!"

"If he goes through the veil his soul will be unable to return, Harry," Dumbledore said, climbing in the dais to get in a more defensive position. "You won't have to sacrifice yourself. You can live your life and Voldemort's last soul shard will die when you die, hopefully a long time from now."

"You're not listening," Harry said frantically following Dumbledore up the dais. "Don't go up there! I'm in charge of this war effort, Albus! And I'm ordering you to stay away from that vei-"

The door burst open and Voldemort came in followed closely by Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Harry knew Mulciber and Rookwood were likely too injured to pursue. The rest he'd definitely killed. The five assailants spread out around the room, Crabbe and Goyle to the left, Avery and Nott to the right.

"This is why you have to go for the kill!" Harry complained as Dumbledore began to duel all five at once. "You can't take prisoners when you're outnumbered! They just get revived!"

But Dumbledore was too focused on the duel to respond. He stunned Crabbe again but the others were all good enough at blocking that he couldn't land any other hits. Casting spells without a wand was very tiresome. Harry fired off a few more lethal curses from his open palm but they were getting weaker and the Death Eaters were blocking him just as easily as they blocked Dumbledore. Harry defensively ducked around behind the Dais so that he was at least out of sight of Voldemort for the time being.

"Albus, stop! Listen! I'm telling you, you have to get away from the-" but it was too late. Blocking and dodging spells from behind was very difficult. Voldemort's Death Eaters had distracted Dumbledore just enough for Voldemort to land a blasting hex. He lost his footing and history repeated itself once more as Harry watched yet another ally fall through the veil of death.

Harry knew Death had not cheated Dumbledore. The wand itself hadn't been the cause of Dumbledore losing his duel. The veil has been the cause. The wand itself remained undefeated…

Wait! The wand! It fell through the veil too. So had the cloak and even the ring which Dumbledore had worn every day for nearly a year. Dumbeldore had fallen through the veil whilst in possession of all three hallows… He had died whilst the Master of Death, and in doing so, had taken all of Death's instruments of survival with him. How very ironic.

"Damn it!" Harry howled. "God damn it, Albus, you noble idiot!!!"

Voldemort was laughing. "Come out, come out, Harry Potter!" Voldemort teased. "Come and meet your fate!"

Harry looked around and saw Goyle to his left and Nott to his right. Neither was attacking. Harry knew they had a standing order not to do so. Voldemort himself wanted to be the one to kill Harry.

"Let's make a deal, Tom! Harry called."You've seen me cast without a wand. I have already killed three of your followers today. So here is my proposal. When I come out, you will kill me. No torture. Just death. You win. Do this and I will not kill Goyle over here."

Goyle flinched. Harry, feeling a bit manic from the adrenaline, lunged towards Goyle who shrieked like a schoolgirl and erected a shield that would not have blocked Harry's dark cutter… if Harry had had enough energy to even cast another. In truth, he was finished. He was drained. He had nothing left due to the massive drain that wandless magic had on him.

"How pathetic," Voldemort gloated. "The Boy Who Lived, begging for death. Very well, Harry Potter. Come out and I will end you swiftly."

Harry gulped. He exhaled a long deep breath. This was it. He was going to die and rely on the fact that his blood still ran through Voldemort's veins in order for his soul to return. Was he going to see Destiny again? He… hadn't thought of her in a long time. He really didn't want to talk to her. What would he even say? He was still very angry with her for having taken away his free will upwards of a hundred times… forcing him to be with Daphne each time…

As Harry stepped out from behind the dais, taking a wide walking path to ensure he would be nowhere near the archway when he was killed. His one hope was that they didn't damage his body while his spirit was gone. Voldemort had to use the killing curse. If he destroyed Harry's body or his body went through the veil… there would be nowhere for his soul to return to after his sacrifice…

Voldemort was positively gleeful. His eerie, snakey smile spread from ear to ear. Harry attempted to remain emotionless. He didn't want to give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing even an ounce of fear on his face.

"Do your worst, Tom," Harry scowled. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly.

A moment later, Voldemort's words rang out, the sound of triumph could be heard strongly in his voice. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry's body crumpled in a heap on the stone floor.