A chapter I find I enjoy a bit more than most . . . just one long scene. Completely unedited, too - I think I find it more charming this way.
Also, a bit of potentially unfortunate news. Please note that due to my real-schedule becoming increasingly more jam-packed, updates to this story may become a bit less common. It won't be too bad by any means - probably just biweekly rather than a new chapter every week. You don't have to worry just yet - as of right now, I will continue to post every Saturday. This is nothing more than a potential heads up. Should this become a reality, I'll announce it on my Discord, along with the time period that it will span for (most likely only for a few months, until life becomes a bit less hectic).
I've started a Discord. I intend for it to be a small, relaxed server - nothing to 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 coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Blackest of Nights
IX. Instinctus
Bits of dirt slid down the sides of the narrow passageway and onto the earthen floor. Harry squinted into the darkness. He could barely make out the path before him. Pausing, he reached into the depths of his robes, pulling out his wand.
Lumos.
A bright white light flooded the thin passage. Harry stared at it for a second. The light burnt into his eyes, and he quickly looked away.
I thought the incantation this time.
"Nox." Harry murmured.
The bright light vanished. Harry held his wand out before him, waving it almost skeptically.
I want to see. Give me light, let me see again -
"Shit!"
Harry dropped his wand, shielding his eyes from the blinding rays of light that leapt from the end of his wand -
"Not that bright, not that bright!
The white light dulled considerably. Harry edged towards his wand - a hand still covering his face - and quickly plucked it from the earthen soil. The wand felt warm in his grasp. It hummed slightly; Harry felt as though it were laughing, the light flickering for a few short seconds. He wiped it across the hem of his robes before holding it aloft.
Right. Better get moving.
It was like scuttling along the burrow of an oversized rabbit. The passage twisted and turned in ways that didn't make sense - Harry was sure he had looped around by now - but he hurried along, following the light pouring from the tip of his wand.
Slowly, the passage began to rise. Harry glanced at the parchment in his left hand, the one Fred and George had gifted him.
The Marauder's Map.
Countless names lined the map, written in inky red lettering. Harry's emerald eyes jumped to the statue of the humpbacked witch.
My name isn't there anymore. I've left the Hogwarts grounds.
Harry lowered his wand to the parchment.
"Mischief Managed."
The blood-coloured ink slowly faded away. Harry folded the map, shoving it deep within his Slytherin robes.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him changed. Soft, earthy soil was replaced by cold stone floors. Harry could feel the lines between the bricks - they curved slightly, forming ornate patterns Harry could barely see. He sped up, his wand held high.
Ten minutes later, his feet slammed into something cold and hard. Harry lowered his wand, pointing the end at whatever lay before him. They were stairs - more than Harry could count, and all patterned with the same ornate spirals. Harry clambered up, counting in his head with every step he took.
Three hundred and ninety-four, three hundred and ninety-five, three hundred and ninety - ouch!
Harry looked up. He had hit his head against the low ceiling, the path before him having come to an end. Harry squinted, pressing his wand to the roof.
It's a trapdoor.
Harry stood very still, listening for something, anything. Nothing happened. Heart pounding in his chest, Harry pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.
He was in a cellar, one full of wooden crates and boxes. Harry climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it - it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Wand still aloft, Harry slowly made his way towards the wooden stairs at the end of the room. He could definitely hear voices now, along with the tinkling of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.
Creak.
At the top of the stairs, a door painted dark green eased open. Harry scrambled to wrap himself in his Invisibility Cloak as a young man with light brown hair clambered down the stairs. The man walked right past Harry, making his way towards a crate of sweets in one of the corners -
Now's my chance.
Quickly and silently, Harry climbed the stairs. His eyes washed over the room before him, and the cloak nearly slipped from his grasp.
The walls were coloured light brown and pink and green, and a large letter 'H' was stamped along it every now and then. Sweets of all sorts lined the walls: creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees. Barrels of Every Flavour beans, and Chocolate Frogs, and even Fizzing Whizbees slid across the tiled floors, occasionally bumping into some of the shoppers.
Honeydukes.
Harry watched as a small huddle of fourth years chased down a barrel of Pepper Imps, one of the store-workers chasing after them, brandishing a broomstick over her head.
Dudley would've loved this place.
Harry laughed happily, his eyes twinkling as he pulled the cloak from his shoulders.
I love this place.
Sweets jumped out at him as he passed. Harry took as much as he could carry, waddling towards the cash register. A chocolate frog box fell from somewhere above him. It landed in his hands with a thud, the box still wobbling around.
"That'll be eleven sickles and a knut, please." said the woman at the register. She wore a deep green apron, the Honeydukes logo stamped on the front. Harry handed her a dozen oddly-shaped coins, gratefully accepting the bag she passed him. He shoved all his sweets into the bag, removing the chocolate frog as he made his way out the door.
Hogsmeade Village was coated in snow. Torch brackets lined the paths that countless witches and wizards walked along. Many of them, Harry noted, were students. A group of Hufflepuffs were flinging snowballs at one another across the road, and a small huddle of Ravenclaws were peering at something through a shop window.
Above them, dark, tattered robes flew by. Very little sunlight shone through the clouds, but whatever did was hidden by the Dementors. Harry watched as a pair of them circled overhead, their grey, rotting skin matching the clouds beyond them.
To his right, a notice was pasted to the outside of the Honeydukes door.
'BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Bellatrix Lestrange. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.'
Harry snorted.
She's probably here right now, looking for me.
He brushed bits of snow from a low wooden bench, taking a seat. His fingers curved around the chocolate frog pack as he pinched it open. The frog jumped wildly, but Harry snatched it out of the air, taking a quick bite out of its head. It was delicious.
Silvery-green robes glimmered beneath his fingers. Harry pluckled the chocolate frog from the empty packaging, frowning.
Herpo the Foul. I've only got one of him.
The bald, snake-like man stared back up at him. His eyes, dark and rough, bore into Harry's. It felt like the miniscule portrait was judging him.
Professor Baker gave it to me.
The man's eyes flashed scarlet. Harry jumped, nearly dropping the card.
Voldemort, I mean.
Harry quietly studied the card. It hadn't been a trick of light - every few minutes, the man's deep brown eyes burnt a cruel blood-red.
Weird.
Harry turned the card around, his eyes combing over the brief description on the back.
'Herpo the Foul was an Ancient Greek Dark Wizard and Parselmouth. He is accredited with the creation of the Basilisk, a gigantic serpent with extraordinarily dangerous powers. During his lifetime, the Greek Wizard made a name for himself as a practitioner and pioneer of the Dark Arts, being additionally accredited with the invention of many foul curses and artifacts. Despite having been involved in many conflicts, Herpo the Foul died of old age nearly two centuries after his birth. It is said that his spirit remains trapped within his infamous staff, though the rumours are obviously unproven.'
Harry flipped the card around again. Herpo the Foul watched him carefully before shuffling off to the side and out of sight. The ghost of his scarlet gaze hovered in Harry's mind.
Like Em - Voldemort's. Like Voldemort's.
Harry frowned. His fingers curled slightly, and the card crumpled. Harry's hand slid down to the side of the bench, but the battered card remained where it was, hovering in the air.
You can fall now, you know.
The card dropped to the snow. Harry covered it with his shoes, stamping on it. Icy water, cold and wet, leaked through his black school socks.
I should've brought boots.
"Not much of a looker, is he?"
Harry looked up. A pretty witch with straight brown hair peered over his shoulder, a wicked gleam in her eyes. She was wrapped in pitch black robes, and a curved wand poked out from beneath her sleeves. Bellatrix quickly pocketed it, hopping over the bench and sitting beside him.
"It's the hair." she whispered conspicuously, "Black hair's the best, everyone knows that."
She squinted at a window in the building opposite. Her long, thin nose shriveled in disgust.
"See. Look at my hair, it's all wrong. Brown - whoever thought that was a good hair color? It's made me look a mess!"
"Sure it's your hair?" Harry murmured.
Bellatrix giggled, raising a clawed hand to her lips.
"Witty, aren't you?" Bella crooned, "Master is, too. Oh, if only you'd seen her. Long, straight black hair - absolutely perfect. She looked like an angel . . .
"But she got blown up." she added sharply, turning to him, "By you. So it's your fault, really, that you haven't gotten to see her. You'll just have to be more careful next time."
Harry grimaced, his eyes slipping to the crumpled card that lay mixed within the snow.
"I was one." he reminded her, "And I have seen her. What she really looks like."
Silence rang in his ears. Harry looked up. Bellatrix sat with a frown on her face, her eyebrows scrunched together.
"Master didn't mention that." she murmured, her fingers drawing patterns in the frost that coated the bench, "You only saw her as Baker. The woman with brown hair."
Harry shrugged.
"Maybe she didn't know."
Something sparked behind Bella's eyes, and she straightened up excitedly.
"Oh. Oh." Bellatrix burst into giggles, covering her lips with clawed hands again, "The girl in the diary . . . she was pretty though, wasn't she? That's black hair for you - like icing on a cake!"
With that, the wicked witch jumped to her feet. She brushed bits of snow off her robes before turning to Harry. Her fingers, long and thin, quickly ruffled his hair, and Harry flinched.
"You're lucky you've got it too." she told him seriously, "You might just amount to something when you're older."
"Brown hair's nice as well." said Harry absentmindedly.
The faint form of a girl flashed through his mind. Icy eyes sat beneath long, blonde hair. It was braided intricately, and a few strands hung over the girl's ears on either side.
And blonde too, I suppose.
Bellatrix stopped dead in her tracks. Suddenly, her fingers wrapped tightly around Harry's arm, and she dragged him along the snowy path.
"Brown hair." she huffed, her sharp fingernails poking at his skin, "Brown. It's so . . . muggle. So plain, so boring -"
"Snape's got black hair too, you know -"
"Snivellus is an exception." said Bellatrix determinedly, "He doesn't count. He's like my cousin Sirius - he was in Gryffindor, by the way. The only Gryffindor in the entire Black family. They're both just stains on what would otherwise be all nice and lovely -"
"Sirius?" interrupted Harry, "As in, Sirius Black?"
Bellatrix nodded, giggling.
"I was wondering if you knew about him. Imagine if he was still alive - he'd have raised you, I'd wager -"
"Then it's a good thing he's dead." Harry snarled.
Traitor. He's worse than the Dursleys could ever be.
"Nope!" said Bella, popping the 'P' with a loud click of her tongue, "It was Pettigrew who betrayed you parents. I should know - it's the reason I killed him."
What?
"Cousin Sirius was innocent." Bellatrix continued, still dragging him forward, "Oh, it was ever so funny when they carted him off to Azkaban with me. But I felt a bit bad when those stupid blankets sucked his soul out. I'll never tell him, but he was a bit funny, sometimes. Shame he picked the wrong side."
"So," began Harry slowly, "This Pettigrew - Peter Pettigrew, right?"
Bellatrix nodded.
"He's the one who sold out my parents?"
"Yup!" Bella leaned closer, pressing her lips against his cold ear, "And he had ratty brown hair, too."
Harry frowned. His fingers fiddled uncomfortably with the wand within his robes.
I didn't know them anyway. I didn't know any of them. It doesn't matter.
Slowly he straightened up. Bellatrix watched as he did, the ends of her lips curving upwards.
"Well, you got over it quickly!" she said loudly, "But maybe that's not a good thing - I don't think you're supposed to get over things like that so fast . . ."
"What am I supposed to say?" Harry murmured, "I've grown used to not getting what I want."
"Same!" Bellatrix jumped up, clapping cheerfully. Several people around them stared at her, but she didn't pay them any mind.
"But that's the thing." said Bella seriously, "When I realised I wouldn't get what I wanted, I started taking it for myself. You've got to start doing that, too."
Right.
Sharp, talon-like nails pierced at his skin again, and Bellatrix dragged him further through the winding paths of Hogsmeade.
"Now hurry up, will you?" she snapped as they passed a putrid pink teashop. Harry saw a number of couples stashed within.
Those guys look like they're about to kill themselves.
A large wooden sign was hung above the doorway.
"Madam Puddifoots." Harry read aloud, grimacing.
I'll have to remember never to step foot in there.
"You can worry about old Puddy later." said Bellatrix irritably, "You won't be taking Mini Ophelia there any time soon -"
"Who?"
"Oh, what was her name then? Right - Daphne, wasn't it?"
Harry balked at her.
"I'm not taking her there." he said, eyes wide, "Not ever."
"That's good." said Bellatrix, "It's horrible in there. Pink."
She glared at the shop, her grasp tightening around Harry's arm.
"Pink's getting it too?" asked Harry irritably, wincing as sharp nails prickled against his skin, "Let me guess, Pink and Brown have some alliance going, don't they?"
And they probably don't like Black much.
"Funny." snapped Bella, "Walk faster, won't you?"
"I'm trying." Harry hissed as her nails poked at him again, "And you should really cut your nails some time, you know. They're foul - it's like being stabbed at with gardening picks -"
"Oh, shut up already. I'll hex you if you don't - I still remember a good few of them!"
The path slowly vanished from beneath them. Bellatrix led them up a long, steep hill, until eventually they found themselves standing outside an old, weary shack.
"Here we are." she said, straightening up, "One of the only good things my worthless cousin discovered."
Harry stared blankly at the building before him.
"That's the Shrieking Shack."
"Obviously." Bellatrix deadpanned, "The perfect place to train. No one will look here - they all think it's haunted."
"But it actually isn't?"
"Nope!" Bella inched closer, removing her curved wand and pointing it at several of the worn-out wooden boards, "That was cousin Sirius and his stupid friends. They used to sneak in here through the Whomping Willow."
Harry balked.
"Through the Whomping Willow?"
"I said that, yes."
Bellatrix slashed her wand, and the wooden boards crumpled like paper. A large opening formed in the wall of the Shrieking Shack. Bellatrix nodded and stepped through it. Harry faltered. His eyes glanced at the shack, then behind him, and finally at the shack again. He quickly clambered after her.
"How'd they manage that?" he asked, squinting as he tried to make out the insides of the building, "Getting here from the Whomping Willow."
"Secret passageway." murmured Bella, "You press a knot at the base of the tree - it goes all stiff if you do. Then you just crawl through it, and here you are."
Harry nodded slowly.
I'll have to check the map for that one.
"So if I need to see you, I'm going to have to crawl through there?"
Bellatrix snorted.
"Don't be stupid." she leaned closer, her claw-like hands reaching for something she couldn't see, "You'd probably be seen. Of all the reasons to be caught and sent back to Azkaban -"
Click.
Her fingers wrapped around something, and light suddenly filled the room. It was larger than Harry expected, and it looked almost like an old home. A brick built fireplace stood opposite him, an armchair, a rug and a withered sofa beside it. There was a small table, too, and a broken stool lay in the corner of the room.
"Charming, isn't it?" Bellatrix pulled off her cloak, throwing it at the armchair across the room, "Your father and his little friends used to hang around here."
Harry frowned. He pulled off his cloak too, setting it neatly down on the worn-out sofa. His fingers wrapped around his holly wand, and he turned to face Bellatrix.
"You said you'd teach me."
"I did." Bella smirked, raising her wand and pointing it between his eyes. Angry red magic wept from its tip, looking more like blood than sparks of light, "I'm not going to teach you magic, though - you can figure that out on your own. I'm going to teach you how to fight."
Harry's palms balled to fists, and a low, irritated growl escaped his lips.
"I already know how to duel, in case you've forgotten -"
Bang.
Pain erupted in his shoulder, and Harry spun across the room, slamming into the table. It cracked beneath his weight, and they both fell crumbling to the floor. Splintered wood pressed against his skin.
Harry slowly pushed himself off the floor, his hands snaking towards his shoulder. Blood wept from his wound. Harry grimaced, watching as rivulets of blood slid down his robes to the weathered wooden floors. Across the room, Bellatrix was watching him very carefully.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry hissed, clutching his shoulder tightly, "Why in the world would you - don't point your wand at me again!"
But a bright violet light soared through the room, hitting him before he could move. Harry grit his teeth, waiting for the pain to overrun his senses, but nothing happened. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes.
His shoulder was glowing faintly. Bits of skin were stitching themselves back together, and the blood was no longer trickling down towards the earth. After a few moments, the wound had vanished entirely.
Dark, heavily-lidded eyes bore into his own.
"The Dark Lady taught you how to duel." Bellatrix whispered, her fingers curling around her wand again, "I'm going to teach you how to fight."
The end of her wand was glowing again. Harry ducked out of the way just in time. The spell crashed into the wall behind him, ripping a large gaping hole in the plaster.
"Good." Bellatrix murmured, watching him carefully, "But you've got to be smarter. Evading spells always wastes energy, don't you ever forget that. Dodging wastes your body's physical energy. Shielding wastes magic. You'd better remember to use them both -"
"Confringo!" Harry sputtered.
Bellatrix batted the bright white light aside. It arced up towards the ceiling, slamming into it with the force of a canon. Broken bits of wood rained down from above. Bellatrix waved her wand almost lazily, and they soared towards him.
"Now that was better." she watched as Harry jumped behind the armchair, "Not a bad attack. But you gave me a weapon. You shouldn't have done that, Harry . . . pay attention to your surroundings -"
Depulso!
The armchair flew across the room, knocking Bellatrix off her feet. She got up before Harry could cast another spell. There was a wild, cheerful gleam in her eyes now.
"Nonverbal magic." she giggled, wiping a strand of hair from her face, "Perfect. I didn't know that was coming, did I?"
The pair circled one another. Harry looked around, searching for anything that might be of use -
"It wouldn't work on her, mind you." Bella added loudly, "Lady Voldemort always knows what you're thinking."
Harry grit his teeth.
I'm well aware.
Bellatrix backed up against the sofa, poking her wand at the torn-up cushions. The thin bits of silk coalesced into something dark and furry. Harry watched as the large creature shook itself, glancing up at Bellatrix.
"A dog?" Harry murmured uncertainty, "What's the point of -"
The dog slowly turned to him. Anger swirled behind blood red eyes, and the creature bared its teeth. Long, sharp fangs glinted in the light of the fireplace.
Shit.
The dog bound towards him. Floorboards creaked beneath it as it broke out into a sprint - it was twenty feet away from him - then fifteen - then ten -
Change, change! Something, anything, just change -
The dog froze. It turned to Bella uncertainty as its fur slowly fell to the floor, and its body curved and compressed into something thinner and much longer.
That's better.
"A snake." Bellatrix watched it curiously, not particularly concerned as it bared its fangs at her, "You transfigured my transfigured creature. They don't even begin teaching the basics of that until sixth year."
Bellatrix glanced up. She flicked her wand at the snake, vanishing it. Bright lights soared from the end of her wand again, and Harry ducked out of the way.
"How'd you learn it?" she asked curiously, watching as a shield poured from the tip of Harry's wand, "Who taught you?"
Harry grimaced. The shield before him began to waver slightly. He grit his teeth, ignoring the rough pounding of his heart against the inside of his chest.
"I did."
Harry slashed his wand, and the silvery shield faded. He pointed his wand at the broken bits of wood. From across the room, Bellatrix raised her wand again.
Live. Turn into something alive, turn into something that lives -
A swarm of birds swirled around him. A series of bright, blinding lights flashed through the room, and one by one the avian creatures fell to the battered floor.
"Clever." Bellatrix edged closer, watching as the final bird fell with a loud screech, "But not clever enough."
Her wand rose again. A bright, sickly green glow flashed before the eye of his mind.
No.
"Expulso!"
Harry felt something heavy swirl up in his chest, and a bright white light flooded the room. His stomach hurt. Harry doubled over, wincing as blood dribbled down the side of his chin. Slowly, uncertainly, he turned around.
Bellatrix was staring at something he couldn't see. Her fingers reached forward, and a bright white light flared again. Harry winced, looking away. The light slowly faded into nothingness.
Like the shield I used against Lockhart. Weird.
"Instinct." Bellatrix's soft, high voice pressed against his ears, "You can do it, too."
Harry glanced back. Bellatrix was watching him now. She leaned as close as she could, and Harry managed to catch the excited gleam in her eyes.
"Like her." she was muttering, "You're just like her -"
A dull, throbbing pain rang inside his skull, and the world went black.