Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 128: Quidditch Eve
Dumbledore sat up in his chair, peered over the edge as Filius Flitwick approached early Friday morning, the pinstrips in the canary yellow suit were tight.
"I appreciate the option to refuse," said Flitwick, the letter in his hand, the shake to it, "Which I do."
Dumbledore watched as the letter ignited, turned to dust.
"To stoop…to assume I'm that desperate to ignore my principles against teaching anything to those dark…dark evils," Flitwick said, "Do not ask me again."
"Then vacate your classroom," Dumbledore said, watched the disbelief behind the eyes, "Only for this afternoon."
Flitwick spat, turned as he left.
After Harry left the shower, he returned to the modest classroom fitted as a small studio apartment for the four on the seventh floor.
"Good morning," said Albus Dumbledore, already sitting at the dining table, "Thought…after yesterday, try to remedy things with a good… I think you like the sausages and bacon."
Harry snorted, went and sat at the table, across from the old man.
"Miss. Granger prefers the healthier options," said Dumbledore.
Harry glanced at Hermione, at the small desk by the window, her hand lifted the spoon of oatmeal upward. Gia rolled on the bed, the feet up while reading, the hand in something munchy, and Harry heard the crunch. Vines on the ceiling, Fawkes clung as he ate the berries. Harry took his pills, served out the sausages to himself, and added beans to the toast, ate.
"You've had some interesting successes and failures this week," Dumbledore said.
Harry studied the blue twinkling eyes as he worked the buttery beany toast between his teeth.
"Pardon if I don't consider head to toe burns a success," Dumbledore said, "Unless that was the look you're going for."
Harry shook his head.
"Given the successes you have had," Dumbledore said, "I'd expect you to be the top student in Defense Against the Dark Arts, however—"
"This isn't a class," Harry said as he stood, "It's our necks. If they tried a hundred times, they only have to get one success to succeed, whereas one failure on our part—disaster."
"Correct Harry," Dumbledore said, "Your task today is to make sure the hundred and first does not work, and tomorrow, defeat attempt one hundred and two, whatever it may be."
Harry turned for the fireplace, the portrait of Natalie MacDonald above it.
"They're always trying too," Harry grumbled.
"There was a time I had similar concerns," Dumbledore said, "Now, my reputation precedes me, which has made it less taxing."
"I've killed before—let others die in their attempts," Harry said, "But that's not how I want to be known."
"Unfortunately that's not how it's playing," Dumbledore said.
"I know," Harry said, "Still going to not issue—if I can avoid it."
"They're still coming after us," Ron said, nearby.
"As such," Dumbledore said, "Professor Nymphadora Tonks would love a word to help, suggest you make your way out to the Quidditch Pitch right about now, though best to avoid the corridors, and I'll loiter here, avoid my official duties."
Harry glanced at Ron, the thought to them both. Brooms out.
"What?" Hermione stammered.
"If you'd rather walk," Harry said as Gia climbed onto the broom behind him, "Suggest you use a lot of chalk."
Hermione glared at Harry, her thought, of using Harry's talents. Harry aimed, the window opened, and he led the charge out of it. Invisibility that swept over him as they dropped, the fall exhilarating, waited until he was a few feet off the ground, and pulled up.
"You…" Gia said, her fingers that dug into his stomach.
Toes that hit the blades of grass, over the cliff, to hit the water. A fast turn, above the grass, they came to the familiar pitch, the same one he'd been assaulted at two days earlier. Sitting on the top box, the familiar blonde haired dog, Snuffles sat there.
"Thank you," Harry said as he landed, "Give him belly rubs."
A slight yip, the nod, and Harry turned for Neville. Neville's brown hair, the spin, though also blindfolded.
"Is…is there something?" Neville asked.
Harry jumped, rolled, and pressed on Neville's rear. Harry felt it, the fast pinch on his own butt, the spin, and he closed his eyes.
"Who…professor?" Neville asked.
Harry heard it, the wand aimed as he spun, forced Professor Tonks out of disillusion.
"Nice try Potter," Professor Tonks said. She vanished, Harry ducked behind Neville, hand over him, as he aimed. "And he's now a shield."
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"Hi Harry," Neville said, "Supposed to be learning…can't remember."
"Be helpful to," Hermione said as she dropped off the back of Ron's broom.
Harry aimed as he heard the crush of grass, the wand that roved until it pulled the instructor into illusion.
"Want to get better at that charm?" Professor Tonks asked.
"You thought I was using a charm to find you?" Harry asked.
Her eyes that showed the confusion.
"Those…" Harry glanced at the boots. "Noisy."
"Aw," Professor Tonks said, "Clever."
Harry grinned.
"We started without you," Neville said, "Being late—"
"Came as soon as I was informed," Harry said.
"Wanted an open space," Professor Tonks said.
Ron and Hermione stood nearby, the five sets of eyes at their instructor.
"And she wants an essay," Ron said, waited for the jab from Hermione.
"A quill that fights you back?" Professor Tonks said, "You lot are in a pickle, you can't roam the corridors of Hogwarts without incident."
"Invisibility," Neville said.
"Doesn't always work," Harry said, "Certain people can see through it, and Finnigan's group has been coming up with ways to get around it."
"And you'd rather not stumble into something," Professor Tonks said, "So, while the Zone's a good spell, it's quite draining and you can't keep it going. So, try a simple enchantment, membraclamor instead. Protect yourselves and try to hit me."
Professor Tonks stepped into disillusion, a bright flash of light and the bells that sounded, as Harry felt the skin tingle, being magically pricked. Harry fired off a curse to the side, unsure if it was true.
"Enchantment!" Hermione snapped, "Membraclamor!"
Resolve within Harry brewed fast.
"Membraclamor!" Neville tried, "Hey!"
Neville's eyebrows that raised as Harry aimed.
"Membraclamor!" Harry snapped.
All the hairs on his arms raised themselves, the goosebumps that formed, as if fingernails scratched down a chalkboard, the static tingling.
"Membraclamor!" Harry snapped, again, the skin abuzz with electric sensation, and a magical prick.
"Find me?" asked Professor Tonks, her voice echoed through out the pitch, "Got the microphone!"
"I know," Harry said as he spun, the wand that sprayed water, and he spotted it, halfway across the pitch. A jump, the run, and she ran back into disillusion.
"Exercise program?" Professor Tonks said, "The charm—the spell!"
"Membraclamor!" Harry snapped, the skin that returned to its buzzing electric sensation, the magical pricks that came to it.
"GOT IT!" Hermione shouted, "I'll go watch Gia!"
Hermione made it to the stands, Ron loitered with Neville. Harry again moved, the wand that aimed as he tried to force an illusion, only to be met with bells that appeared and crashed down.
"Work it out," Professor Tonks said, the voice that taunted.
An attempt to the invisibility, and the skin sensation vanished.
"Got you marked," Professor Tonks said, Harry unsure to the truth there, "It'd defeat the lesson."
Shadows that shortened as the sun rose, Harry's feet that trod the grass. Ron and Neville chatted as Harry kept moving. Curse after curse, only the fabric of the stands moved to it, however, it started to become apparent to Harry. This time, Harry aimed as his skin felt it, didn't shout as it pushed.
"Oww!" Professor Tonks snapped as she came into illusion while she slammed backward against the stands. "Got me."
Harry grinned.
"Lets see if you've got it," Professor Tonks said. Her wand that flicked, and she vanished. "Wait a minute."
Harry felt the sensation that moved against his skin along with the magical prick. Harry aimed, cursed, and brought Professor Tonks back into illusion.
"And?" Neville asked.
"I can tell where she's cursing from," Harry said, "The direction."
Neville arched his eyebrows.
"TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!" Hermione shouted.
"POINT!" Ron shouted back.
Ron vanished into disillusion.
"HEY!" Hermione snapped, she pulled out her wand.
"So you're saying this'll work?" Neville asked.
"Keep working on it," Harry said to Neville, "Takes time for you to be able to…read it."
"And given your current predicament," Professor Tonks said, "You should always be using it; with time…" She aimed her wand at Harry. "You'll feel that."
Ron's stomach growled.
"We'll—" Harry started.
"Use more time than allotted," Professor Tonks said as she checked a pocket watch, "I'd suggest after lunch, but that's another lesson."
Harry's eyes at her.
"Limited time," Professor Tonks said.
"Usual," Neville said.
"Wish we could cover more," Professor Tonks said, "Like varying the distance you set it at, further gives you more warning, but takes more energy and have more false alarm."
"Can I set it about something else?" Harry asked a nod, a point to the stands.
"Like her?" Professor Tonks said, "It could, but rather moot if you can't reach her in time. This alarm, while good for reflexes, does not protect."
A return to the castle, a lunch, and Harry traveled down to the third floor classroom with Ron and Hermione; Bill Weasley already there, Neville and Michael followed a moment later.
"I was told that Professor Flitwick refused this lesson," Bill said, "So…lucky me."
"An issue with that?" Ron snapped.
"Ron!" Harry snapped. A glance of gratitude from Bill's eyes. "Thank you Bill, lets get started."
"Water charm?" Bill asked.
Harry aimed, the surge, the flood that swept through the classroom, desks that moved. Neville slipped and fell into the water.
"I think we needed that shower," Bill said, the left fingers went through his long hair, "So, what about when you don't need such a deep clean?"
Harry turned, Ron held Hermione up, Michael helped Neville back to his feet.
"Um…" Harry muttered, turned his focus back to Bill, the water that dripped from his dragon hide jacket.
"You've got power," Bill said, "Not as much control. Think that's worth an afternoon to help master?"
Harry nodded.
"Though when it comes to you–know–who," Ron said, "Give it all the welly you've got."
Harry snorted.
"Especially if he shows up to tomorrow's match," Ron said.
"Hope not," Harry said.
Though the Quidditch match was on Harry's mind as they progressed.
Harry apparated into the antechamber behind the Great Hall that afternoon, where Professor Tonks already was one of many. A glance around at the room, Fred and George, leaning against the wall with Charlie, Arthur Weasley with his leisure suit at the long table. Next to Mr. Weasley, Amos Diggory shuffled cards, while Dumbledore and Amelia Bones watched.
"About to deal," said Amos Diggory.
Tonks moved, she stood between Amos and Arthur. Harry glanced at Dumbledore.
"There's business, isn't there?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Concerning me," Harry said, "Usually is."
"Have a seat," Dumbledore suggested as Ron and Hermione entered.
"It's usually a weekly or biweekly meeting…meant card club," Tonks said, "Things have obviously happened since last time."
Harry pulled out a chair, sat across from her, Ron to his left, Kinsley to his right. Chicken wings that appeared on the empty plates, Harry took one, dipped it into the peanut butter sauce.
"Another wonderful suggestion," Dumbledore said.
"Better than…" Tonks said, "Regrowing skin."
"Or…" Hermione said, "Minister really interfered."
"I was not happy in the slightest," Dumbledore said, "Overruling on a serious matter—reckless. He sent the message that Killing Curses are permitted at Hogwarts—that idiot."
"Narcissa… showed her allegiance to her late husband," Amos Diggory said, "I couldn't stop it, and removing her? Forget it."
Amos Diggory dealt out cards to the table.
"Don't peek Harry," Ron said.
"There goes the budget," McGonagall said.
"It's rare I'll slander a Minister," Dumbledore said, "Description fits"
"Enjoys interfering," Harry grumbled, "His favorite pastime, picking on me."
"Pains me to say it," Dumbledore said, "While Tom's focusing on you, less attention is being paid elsewhere."
Harry sighed, tried to make sense of the cards in his hands. Feet to to his feet, her eyebrows that arched, the eyes on his.
"He's half your age," Kingsley said to Tonks.
"How rude!" Tonks said, "Not even that close, besides, he's flirting."
Harry grinned, the attention better than most.
"It's a card club," Dumbledore said, "I'll open with one." He put the white chip onto the table. "To some degree I wished Tom focused all his effort onto you Harry, think you'd agree, instead…"
"It's been habitual," Hermione said, "Syria, Kiribati, Dominican Republic—and who knows about today!"
"Voldemort would," Harry said, "It's…"
"We could count," Hermione said, "Different nation every day, maybe half so far?"
"Remember Aubrey Morgan?" Dumbledore said to Harry, "The witch that had to sort up your affairs in the Philippines?"
Harry sighed.
"We followed up with her," Hestia said, a point toward Amelia, "It's systematic; an attack, either witnesses to an impostor or simply that nefarious Potter Mark up into the sky, you get blamed, especially with pressure from our own Ministry for Magic."
"That's…that's…" Harry started.
"Aubrey wrote about legislation," Dumbledore said, "A blind decree."
"Heard about the resolutions of support?" Amelia said, "Of uniting against you?"
"Nicaragua attacked Tuesday," Hestia said, "Yesterday, they ratified it."
Harry put the half eaten chicken wing down as his appetite vanished out from beneath him.
"Doubt it's a birthday gift," Harry grumbled.
"That's information we do not have," Amelia said.
"Everybody's staying hush hush on the actual contents," Hestia said.
"Guessing the wizengamot?" Harry asked.
"I'd be more surprised if it hasn't passed," Amelia said, "Though I've got nothing from the Home Office."
Harry stood. Harry paced, went to one of the fireplaces. A moment later, the footsteps, the hand.
"You alright?" Tonks asked.
A turn, the pink hair, her eyes on his.
"Know what it's like?" Harry said, "I can plop myself down into the Philippines, a ski resort, twice, anywhere where my name doesn't precede me, and I can make a friend, easy." Harry snapped his fingers in the air. "Voldemort's turning the world against me…how soon until that same plop results in an assassination attempt?"
Harry sighed.
"They've chased me out of every home I've known," Harry said, "I walk the corridors of Hogwarts or coach a teammate how to fly better, and it's risking my life, the one that my parents sacrificed themselves for."
Harry paused.
"Got your wand on you?" Harry said, "Never mind, I've got a spare, jump on."
Harry flicked his hand, the broom that hovered.
"Harry!" Ron snapped, from the table.
"Got something to show you," Harry said to Tonks, "On my back."
Harry mounted the broom, felt her push in, and Harry rose. Window of the antechamber that opened, Harry bolted through it. Tonks' fingers dug in as he pitched upward, over as he rolled to be horizontal. Above the castle, the aim for the astronomy tower, the fast blast that marked it with yellow.
"Vandalism!" Tonks shouted.
Harry pulled up, the tears of magic in the sky.
"Which one?" Harry asked.
"What?" Tonks asked.
Harry accelerated into the burgeoning violet, the small dot that grew, the tendril of magic that consumed them both. Tonks shrieked as they fell; Harry rolled and her hands that dug into his shoulders.
"Potter!" Tonks said as they both landed onto a carpeted wood floor. Harry's broom banished itself away.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A flash of green amidst a chorus of shrieks. Two women, Bellatrix Lestrange in a red dress; the other light brown haired woman that had been standing next to the dining table, a flowery yellow dress didn't matter to breaking the fall of the corpse, or the china that broke with it.
"Bye bye!" Bellatrix shouted, a vanish.
"Mum!" Tonks plead, "Mum!"
Tonks moved, leaned over the woman crumpled on the floor. Harry grabbed The Daily Prophet from the table.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
31 October 1981Ministry of Death?Minister for Magic has not been seen for several days, unsubstantiated rumors are fear of being You–Know–Who's next attack.
Harry skimmed.
"Don't!" Harry snapped at Tonks moving toward the fireplace in the living room.
Harry's right hand to Tonks' shoulder, the gentle spin of her to him.
"She killed my mother!" Tonks snapped at Harry.
"Listen," Harry said, "It's Halloween, it's the day Voldemort attacks my parents, think who's running the Ministry."
Sadness within her.
"Voldemort…our Voldemort is running something, or will be running something more powerful than time turners," Harry said, "We're in the past, and depending on how this plays out, Voldemort will choose which reality survives."
"That is…was my mother," Tonks said, "Sister to Bellatrix."
"Oh," Harry said, "Glad you don't have her traits."
A slight blush, and a tingle. Harry's left hand pushed, as the right held his wand. A flick, the invisibility, the tightness. Took Harry a moment with the kniving sensation, to apparate on top of the roof, the tight row houses, across from the one beneath the Dark Mark that lingered up in the air against the dark afternoon clouds. Pops below, the dark suits that seemed to blend into the darkness.
"They…" Tonks said, the eyes that peered over the edge, both of them squatted on that roof side by side.
"Question is," Harry said, "Was that Bellatrix of this time? Or is Bellatrix of our time running this experiment?"
Tonks' eyes to Harry's.
"I've ran across others," Harry said, "But…your mother lives, our time?"
Tonks nodded.
"They never spoke civilly after she fell in with my Dad," Tonks said.
"Alright, so Bellatrix is…the one," Harry said, "We…we're ones she didn't anticipate, so best if we figure out her plan and ruin it."
"Could start with her death," Tonks said.
"Lets get down," Harry suggested, the eyes toward the small park in the near distance.
Harry held her shoulder, the tightness, the disapparation, apparation, to that park, and they stood.
"This isn't your first time," Tonks said.
"Took a few to get the hang of it," Harry said, "I'm slipping in through the cracks—it's not the way they got in, nor do we want to draw attention to us; so, stay in the shadows, that sort of thing."
"My mother…" Tonks said.
"I'm sorry—that one's dead," Harry said, "Unless we stop Bellatrix, that becomes reality. It's Halloween…before the event, and she's taking revenge…or trying to stop it."
Harry understood the danger.
"Godric's Hollow," Harry said, "Where is it?"
"Not certain," Tonks said, "You're wanting to walk in on them—your parents?"
"Would Bellatrix know where Godric's Hollow is?" Harry asked.
"Godric's Hollow is enchanted," Tonks said, "It won't stay put the moment you put it on a map, so you can't catch a train to it."
"Well," Harry said, "Need to find somebody who does know—or, try…"
Harry held her shoulder, the thought, the desire to see his folks, only to be met by knives. A change to try to follow Bellatrix, the similar. Marks across their skin as he stopped the attempt, pulled themselves back together.
"We…we splinched!" Tonks stammered. She held up her left hand, the welts across them. "Splinch marks."
"I know the way out of splinches—might need attention when we get back," Harry said, "Come on… lets try the Leaky Cauldron."
Harry took the steps, the walk, and she walked with him.
"Going in like that?" Tonks said, "You—they'll mistake you for James."
Harry sighed.
"You go in?" Harry said, "Try Hogsmeade instead?"
"Just as dangerous," Tonks said.
"Safer than the one back home," Harry said, "At least for me."
Harry's wand out, the flick, while the left held her shoulder. Invisibility over them both, the tightness, the apparation into the darkness, the cloud that loitered above.
"People preferred the reminder," Tonks whispered.
Windows mostly darkened, a couple of puny lit pumpkins on the porch steps.
"Saturday—should be lively with Hogwarts students," Harry said.
"And you–know–who at the height of his power?" Tonks asked.
"If we're not fast about this," Harry said, "His height of power hasn't happened yet."
Harry stepped up to The Three Broomsticks, stopped.
"Anybody asks questions, recognizes me as James Potter," Harry said, "You're my lady of the night."
"Pardon?" Tonks asked.
Harry continued with the door, entered.
"State your allegiance," said Madam Rosmerta, wand aimed, "One who wanders out of sight."
"You need not ask that question," Harry said as he approached her, "As to me, got reason to stay to the shadows. For now, I'd like… butterbeer."
"Oh, a student," Madam Rosmerta said, "They'll give you detention for straying out of bounds, even if it's Halloween."
"I'll be…here," Harry said, the move toward the square table.
Harry sat and Tonks sat to his right. Harry leaned forward.
"Sorry about your Mum," Harry said, "Never know where it'll land me, every time it's someplace different."
"You've been doing this…traveling?" Tonks asked.
"Ahem," said Madam Rosmerta, the mugs in her hands.
Harry opened his wand holster, pulled out a Sickle, set it down.
"Hasn't even been minted," Madam Rosmerta said, "Want to try again?"
"Sorry," Harry said, "Hazard to traveling…keeping it straight."
Harry pulled out a one hundred yen coin, the French ten Franc coin, several quarters, and kept digging until he found a Sickle made before that Halloween.
"Sure you're a student?" Madam Rosmerta asked.
"I will be," Harry said, "It's complicated."
Harry worked on the mug, the buttery smoothness, a flavor he could only have on these adventures, being cut off from its source back home.
"Wonder if…who lives there?" Harry asked, "Use their…" A glance to the hearth, the boards over it, a small gas thing in front.
"Surprises can come out of a fireplace," Tonks said.
Harry sat there as the invisibility waned.
"Your…your mother," Harry said, "We'll get even."
Tonks unsure within.
"The question is how," Harry said, "We…"
Harry spun as he stood, the wand to his hand, the fast invisibility. In the corner, the mousy brown hair, the nose in The Daily Prophet, while another dark hooded figure entered the room, and Harry's scar began to flare.
"Your types—" Madam Rosmerta said
"Have business here," the deep voice, "Upstairs."
Hooded, the figure went toward the back, up the stairs. Harry moved fast, ahead of the young Peter Pettigrew, Tonks panted behind him, and they slipped into the private parlor before the hooded figure closed the door, sealing them within. Peter trembled, though Harry knew this figure, the pain in his forehead told him.
"Understood you had a message," said the deep voice.
"Leave…leave them alone!" Peter Pettigrew managed.
Another shimmer, the other corner, Harry realized another watched the pair in the middle. Fingers into Harry's shoulder from behind, when Harry understood. A tight focus, Harry didn't need the secret, he simply wished for home, when the tightness occurred.
"Wee!"
Unmistakable, the small boy with bottle green eyes up on the small broom hovering in the modest living room in front of a bricked over fireplace.
"Come back here!" said the man that entered, the one Harry recognized, James Potter, "You need to eat your peas!"
James pulled the broom back into the other room.
"So cute," Tonks whispered into Harry's ear.
Harry wanted to continue into that other room, to see them both, a foot step, a peak around that corner, to the wizard using a spoon sized tiny broomstick to shovel a few peas into the young boy's mouth. Harry closed his own eyes, knew they had an hour at most, and staying here was bad. A thought, the tightness, disapparation, apparation behind the cottage, to the small garden.
"I—" Tonks started.
"Bellatrix," Harry muttered, thought he spotted it, the aim in the dim light, the pumpkin lantern of the neighbor.
"What's she doing here?" Tonks asked.
"Obvious," Harry said, "To kill me, to stop Voldemort's first fall."
"That pretty little boy?" Tonks said.
"Voldemort's about to try," Harry said, "We let him." Harry sighed, knew what that meant, wanted to think more, when the firecracker noise popped. Harry jumped onto his broom.
"Where you hiding that?" Tonks asked.
Harry bolted over, up, the streak of the witch below, the brown hair, and shattered glass two houses down away from the cottage. Harry spun around, aimed, a web of Gryffindor Red and Gold criss–crossed into a dome; and Bellatrix fell backward onto the ground outside of it. Tonks swished, the ropes that wound tightly on Bellatrix as Harry landed.
"Funny," Bellatrix said, her fingers at Harry, "You—you're already dead!"
"Time's a funny thing," Harry said, "Never have enough of it."
Bellatrix snapped, the splinch, and vanished.
"Thought—" Harry said.
"I did—part of the ropes," Tonks said, "She knew how to break it like you do."
Harry understood, their reading lists were the same.
"Some Aurors can," Tonks said, "I've never seen an underage wizard manage themselves out of a splinch until tonight."
"Ta," Harry said, "Lets…rehide."
Harry's wand that renewed the invisibility, sat on the edge to the cottage, the kitchen window cracked open.
"CHANGE HIS NAPPY!" Lily shouted from within.
"Not so close," Tonks whispered.
Harry stood, went to the front, to the garden, and sat. Tonks sat next to him.
"Stake outs aren't fun," Tonks said.
"Bit worse," Harry said, "Guarding them against one murderer so another can show up and do the job—my parents…"
"Sorry," Tonks said, "Maybe stop it?"
"Then it's not set in motion," Harry said, "Voldemort's not forced into a decade long holiday, gets even stronger instead, and I…I can't stand a chance then."
Harry's knees up, he cried against them, knew the awfulness of what was about to transpire. A few minutes passed before Tonks spoke.
"Kid was a natural flyer," Tonks said.
"Yes he is," Harry said.
Pop!
Harry recognized the toddler without anything on.
"Come here," said Lily as she marched fast across the lawn, her hands picked up the tiny Harry, a kiss, and the pair disapparated.
"They're strangers to me," Harry said, "A chance to … instead, need to wait."
Time seemed to pass slowly, until he felt the forehead, the scar begin to burn.
"Show time," Harry whispered.
A flick, the renewal, as the dark robes neared. Confident, the smug smile to the cruel face, the yew wand drawn, the Dark Mark that rose.
"HE'S HERE!" shouted James from within as Voldemort entered.
Screams within, the flashes, and the top of the house exploded.
"Now!" Harry snapped. A rush into the rubble, where little Harry sat with a grin and a scar to his forehead, on top of a shattered crib, when Harry spotted it. Harry picked up that yew wand, handed it to Tonks. "Yours now, use it well."
"Excuse me," came the plea.
Harry spotted him, the mousy brown hair, the eyes that fixated onto Harry.
"Can't be," said Peter Pettigrew, "That he'd spare—"
"I'm Harry James Potter," Harry said as he stood over top of the younger Harry, "You get to answer for your crimes."
A cackle, the tingle, a twist to the witch in red, lunging with a knife toward not Harry himself, but to the boy beneath. Harry's wand twitched, the cyan bead that encased that woman in cyan, cyan that darkened with blood as and she shattered into kibble, the explosion of meat that encased itself into a tendril of deep red magic, sucked in with Harry and Tonks into the seam.
"Ouch," Tonks muttered as she and Harry stumbled out on top of the Astronomy Tower.
Harry leaned over, spotted the mark, the glowing yellow in the dark, and turned back to his teacher.
"Hospital Wing?" Harry asked.
"I'll be fine," Tonks assured him, "You killed her."
"Will kill her," Harry said, "About to kill the younger me—that's self–defense, right?"
Tonks nodded, raised the yew wand.
"Keep it," Harry said, "Serious, that's the best wand to defend yourself when Voldemort strikes, worst wand if you want to strike him back."
"Feels like you should be teaching me," Professor Tonks said.
"Like I was given a choice," Harry said, "Tomorrow's Quidditch."
Harry motioned, Tonks went down the stairs.
"And…" Harry summoned the broom, a jump onto the handle, and floated downward.
Harry knew where Tonks was headed when they parted, yet, he floated until distance, and disapparated.
…
Albus Dumbledore listened as Nymphadora Tonks recounted the tale from the other side of the Headmaster desk.
"Mr. Potter most definitely has an interesting hobby," Dumbledore said, leaving the yew wand idle on his desk, "A chance to examine the choices made."
Tonks nodded.
"Not to mention what he's pulling out of it," Dumbledore said as he picked up the wand, the joy of seeing Cedric given a second chance to live came back to him, "He's correct, this is likely your best defense, though I hope you don't have to put it to the test."
Tonks took the wand. Tonks turned, left.
Date:Wed Dec 4 05:54:24 2024