CHAPTER 100: Children of Fate (Part 4)

Hogwarts Castle

11:35 p.m.

Montague's cries of agony were spurring, almost healing. At times, it felt like they were the only thing keeping his body upright at this point. Harry had barely taken a break after chaining the bastard up to the ceiling, ripping the buttons of his shirt as he tore it open and haphazardly smeared some of the dittany the Room had given him over the large cut that spread over his chest. It kept him from bleeding to death, which was all he felt was needed at the moment. But as the adrenaline began dissipating away, he started feeling just how fucked up his body had got over the night. His shoulder throbbed with pain every time he moved slightly, his left arm still broken and limp, useless to his side. Even simply standing was becoming completely unbearable with his right leg shaking under the weight of his body, barely letting him limp as he continued interrogating Montague.

He didn't feel anything as he cut and slashed Montague's body. All the guilt and shame he had felt over the past couple of months about his nighttime activities had completely vanished, and for once Harry allowed himself to relish the pain he was inflicting. This was the man who had murdered Susan, who had turned his life upside down and destroyed any chance he had to live a normal life. And it did help that he looked very much like his younger brother. There was even a twisted sense of pride as Harry kept forcing down blood-replenishing potions through Montague's throat, ensuring that no matter how much blood pooled under him as Harry left dozens of large cuts over his body, the last Montague wouldn't die.

Not until he was done with him.

"Let's try this one more time," Harry panted out, once again using Montague's robes to clean the blood from the knife. "What are the Death Eater's plans?"

Montague looked up at him defiantly, looking like he was on the brink of death, and Harry couldn't help but grudgingly respect Montague's resolve, not allowing anything but cries of pain to leave his mouth as Harry questioned him. He didn't think he could do better if he was in his position. Still, it was not all bad, it gave him the excuse to blow off steam in a way he hadn't allowed himself for a long time. Plunging the knife deep into Montague's leg, Harry dragged the knife down and then up as the man squirmed helplessly and cried out louder than ever before.

"What are you planning?" Harry roared, jamming the knife deep once more before he roughly pulled it out.

Montague offered a primal scream as a response, a final way to let out his pain, but still no words. And before Harry could continue, the door behind him suddenly opened and the other Slytherins rushed inside, Theo and Draco on each side of Blaise as they carried him. Pansy's eyes immediately found him, and she headed towards him. "That's enough," she ordered, not even giving him a chance to respond before two large, hollow pieces of marble sprung from the floor and ceiling, meeting in the middle as they trapped Montague inside a floating, impenetrable square. Harry's mind barely had a chance to process that before she pushed him back, his legs finally giving on him as he landed on a large armchair that Pansy had presumably asked the Room to conjure for her.

She climbed up on the free space the chair had left, in between his open legs, and glared down at him as she ripped the bloodied shirt from his shoulder and immediately began healing the shattered bones. Harry couldn't help but lean back and give a slight moan of relief, feeling the pain gently ebbing away as she began to thoroughly heal him with spells he had never heard before.

"Oh, great," Blaise muttered as Theo and Draco led him onto another chair. "She leaves me here bleeding to death and immediately goes to tend to Potter."

Harry ignored him and closed his eyes when Daphne's voice suddenly rang out. "Don't look at me. I'm not Madam Pomfrey."

"Besides, it's not like we don't already know that the knife is cursed," Draco said smugly. "It seems you and Potter are now scar mates."

Harry began tuning out the others' bickering as he opened his eyes and focused on Pansy. "I'm fine," he gritted out, and she scoffed, ignoring him as she moved to the badly healed cut as she began healing it. "I don't need this really," Harry tried to growl out, but when he moved to stand Pansy easily managed to pin him down to the chair.

"It's a miracle you're still conscious," she said matter-of-factly. "Let me just do this, and then you can go back to your little play date with Montague."

He groaned but chose to stop fighting her. The truth was that he'd been at this for close to three hours now. Barely taking more than a few minutes to stop. He'd never felt as exhausted, and with Montague finally down and the other Death Eaters inside the castle dead or stunned, he had earned a small reprieve. Still, he was very aware that things were far from over. And he couldn't continue without Montague telling him what the Death Eaters were truly after tonight. Not unless he wanted to walk into another trap.

Pansy thoroughly made her way down his body, stopping every few inches and casting more and more spells at him. She healed parts of him that he never even knew existed, and it quickly proved more than effective as he began breathing much better, his arm and shoulders gained slightly more mobility than they previously had. Far from being back to normal, but enough that they wouldn't be a big hindrance if he got into another fight.

"How are you?" Theo asked as he reached the two of them, having stepped out from the argument the other three were having.

"Magnificent," Harry said sarcastically. "If it wasn't for the wanna-be healer on my lap, I might even be fantastic!"

"Pansy?" Theo asked.

"Completely fucked up," the girl offered without taking her eyes away from Harry. "Maybe after I'm done with him, he'll be only shy of cripple."

"There's really no-"

"Shut up!" Pansy and Theo snapped at him at the same time before the former reached out to right beside them where a tray filled with flasks and bottles appeared, and she shoved a blood-replenishing potion into his arms. "Drink," she ordered, and Harry barely shook his head before chugging it down.

"I'm going to need a few pepper-up potions too," Harry said. "A strengthening potion. Maybe a calming drought?"

"How many of those have you had tonight?" Pansy looked up straight into his eyes.

He couldn't lie to her, so he didn't even try. "Clearly not enough."

Still, Pansy managed to read between the lines. "Definitely not. Your injuries are bad enough without having you go off and crash from abusing more potions than necessary. It's over. There's no need for that."

"It's not-"Harry felt the bones in his leg suddenly shift and let out a hiss. "It's not over."

"It is for you."

The words were exactly what Harry needed. Even as his body began to shut down little by little, he gained the strength to stand up and push Pansy out of his way. She was mostly done, and if she wasn't Harry didn't really care. "Go help Blaise," Harry's voice was cold and firm, and though Pansy looked irate, ready to start an argument, Harry quickly stepped beside her and commanded the room to free Montague from his cage. Pulling out the cursed knife once again, Harry stared at the breathing corpse in front of him, wondering if he should feed Montague more potions or if the man would last a few more minutes without it.

"On second thought, you guys better leave," his whisper spread out across the vast room.

"No," Daphne spoke behind him. "I, for one, want to see this."

"Ditto," Blaise said bitterly.

Theo and Pansy looked just as determined to stay inside the room, and though Draco was nearly shitting his pants, he gave Harry a wary nod as well. Twisting the knife in his hand, a move that had become second nature since he escaped from Grimmauld Place, Harry raised it to Montague's face and put it in his mouth, cutting into the side of his lips. "I learned a lot torturing all your thugs over the past year. I know what makes you tick. Where to cut. Where to stab. How to keep alive for hours while enduring the worst hell imaginable. Trust me when I say, you really want to start answering my questions, Elijah."

Montague grimaced, and it took Harry a second to realise this was the closest thing to a smile the man could offer. Harry pulled out the knife and Montague began coughing up blood before spitting it at Harry's feet. "Not as much… as the alternative…"

Harry trailed the knife over Montague's cheek before pushing it into his face and dragging it down, cutting from underneath his eye to the edge of his jaw. The effects of the knife were quick, the small cut quickly opened, blood trickled down, and the injury began pulsating. "I carved your brother's face completely…" Harry continued dragging down the knife, leaving small cuts over his chest and abdomen as it closed onto its objective. "But I can do so much more with the time we have."

Shuddering, Montague barked out a laugh, spitting more blood at Harry's feet. "You… don't have… time."

"Harry…" Pansy warned, giving him an odd look that instantly put Harry on edge. All the other Slytherins looked tense, as if he was getting close to something they didn't want him to know. It brought a slight burst of anger into his chest, and he took it out on Montague as he cut deeper into his pelvis, causing him to howl in pain.

"Why don't I?" His words were coy, trying to appear almost disinterested, but they weren't fooling the man.

Montague gave him another weird grimace, his eyes as unreadable as ever.

"What does he mean?" He asked his friends without turning to face them.

"I- I don't know," Theo's voice was far from convincing.

Without missing a beat, Harry pulled out the knife before plunging it deep into Montague's leg, right where he had left a large, gruesome cut only a few minutes ago. Montague wailed like a banshee, and Harry began playing him like a twisted instrument as he began tearing the knife from side to side while keeping it lodged inside. "My dear friends aren't being as cooperative, so you're going to have to help them out," he said emotionlessly before tearing the knife out viciously.

But as Montague refused to talk, and the others behind him continued to keep their mouth shut, Harry began giving into the anger that was quickly forming inside of him.

"You know what?" He spat, lashing out once more as he cut Montague's other cheek in a quick, brutal manner. "You're right. I don't have time. But there are others out there; Dumbledore, Scrimgeour, the Order, your Aurors. Your assaults on the Muggles are being quickly stopped, and they already know about the Ministry - I told them myself. As far as I'm concerned, I've done my part. It's their problem now. Me… I'm going to enjoy tonight," Harry didn't know if it was something in his voice or something he did, but something changed behind Montague's eyes. For the first time since the chains had entrapped him, there was real fear in them. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this."

Swiftly turning the knife in his hand, Harry lashed upward and sliced three of Montague's fingers cleanly. Blood spurted out of them, but Harry didn't bat an eye at the sight as he quickly stabbed the top of Montague's right shoulder and pushed the knife all the way until the hilt was lodged into it tightly. Harry ignored Montague's cries of pain as he pushed the man towards him, the shackles cutting into his wrists as his ear was right beside Harry's mouth. "I'm going to make you beg God himself for forgiveness for taking Susan away from me."

"W-what?" Montague spluttered and Harry immediately tensed. Not once had Montague ever wavered. He didn't stutter or hesitate when he spoke.

"Don't act dumb!" Harry bellowed, shoving the knife deeper into Montague's shoulder until even half of the handle was buried inside of him. "You hired Dolohov to kill me. You're the reason she's dead!"

"What… You…" Montague blustered as he forced himself to look up at Harry. "You think… I…"

"Montague tricked Neville into the Ministry," Pansy suddenly yelled out from behind him, taking his attention away from the dying Death Eater as Harry's head snapped towards her. "He and all the Weasleys. They went to save Granger."

"Pansy!" Theo snarled at her - actually snarled - looking more furious than ever before.

"Montague was about to tell him," she defended herself, keeping her focus on Harry.

"That didn't seem to be where the conversation was going," Draco remarked mildly, but Harry ignored him.

"You knew?" He uttered. "You all knew, and you kept it from me?"

"What were we supposed to do?" Theo snapped. "Let you go to the Ministry, bleeding half to death, in a stupid attempt to try and save them? You can't even cast a levitation charm!"

"Who says I'm running off to the Ministry?" Harry asked irately.

"Oh, please," Daphne scoffed.

"I'm…" Forcing himself to breathe, he quietly counted to ten and calmed down as much as he could before continuing. "I'm not," he said resolutely.

Here he was, everything he had been working for for the past three months right in his palm. He had Elijah Montague chained up, on the verge of death, for Harry to do what he pleased with him. This was where he made right with Susan. This was where he killed the man responsible for her death. He didn't care how much Montague wanted to deny it, he would force the confession right out of him no matter how many blood-replenishing potions the Room had to steal from the infirmary to keep him alive long enough to do so. He'd learnt his lesson. He wasn't about to stupidly go off to the Ministry on a suicide mission just to try and stop those idiotic morons from getting themselves killed.

This was their decision, and he wasn't going to let them fuck his night up.

He'd done his part. He fought all over London, put his body through hell to do the Aurors' job for them. Harry had meant it when he said he'd done his part. He'd gone above and beyond as far as he was concerned. He didn't owe anyone anything, especially Neville fucking Longbottom of all people. After busting his arse for the entire night, didn't he deserve a reward? Couldn't he just reap the hard-earned fruits of his labour and fully focus on Montague? Yes, yes he could. And it was exactly what he was going to do.

All the Slytherins stared at him, their gazes tentative. Were they expecting him to explode and kill them all? Or to suddenly burst out of the room and fly to the Ministry? Were they scared because of what he was doing to Montague? They certainly were on Halloween, so what was the difference now? Did they not want him to go? If so, why not? It was all so confusing. After not seeing them for months, it was as if he'd lost the ability to read them. They looked at him as if he was a fragile object, about to break, which only served to piss him off more.

"I'm not," he echoed, his hand feeling empty without the knife. Acting on his urges, Harry punched Montague with his recently-healed knuckles, feeling the large gash on his face when he struck it. He punched it again. And a few more times after that. His mouth opened, but no words came out. There was something bothering him.

"You killed her," Harry said, mostly to himself. "You killed her. You hired Dolohov. You're behind all of this."

"I had… never met… Dolo-"

Harry struck him again, this time knocking out one of his teeth.

"Harry…" Pansy warned again, her voice rising, if only slightly.

"What?" He snarled at her, suddenly standing only a few feet from her face. His heart was pounding, he could feel it inside his head. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Was he really that angry that Montague refused to say the words? Yes. Yes, he was. He was pissed. And here was Pansy, butting in again and stopping him from honouring his promise to Susan. "If you can't take it, just leave!"

"You know who he works for," Pansy said calmly. "He's worth more alive than death."

"Not to me, he isn't."

"My grandfath-"

"I don't give a fuck what your grandfather wants!" Harry boomed. "If he wants him, then have him come for his corpse."

Moving away from her and back to Montague, Harry forcefully pulled out the knife from his shoulder and pressed it against his throat. His hand was shaking, as if his body was fighting him from shoving the knife in and killing him right this moment. The room was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his and Montague's pants for air.

Why did those morons have to go to the Ministry? No, scratch that, why did the fucking Weasley have to follow fucking Neville. He was an idiot, he understood that. And frankly, Harry didn't care too much what happened to the smarmy brat. But why had the fucking Weasleys ignored all sense of… any brainpower and followed him into what was most definitely a trap. Did they want to kill themselves? Did they want to give Mrs Weasley a fucking heart attack? Fucking Ginny was supposed to be the smart one of the bunch, and she followed them like the fucking idiotic Gryffindor she was.

FUCKING FUCKITY FUCKERS!

"All the Weasleys?" Harry's voice shook. He knew the answer, he didn't know why he asked that.

"Yes," Theo said quietly.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I'm not going. I'm not going. I'm not going."

"Maybe he had a bit more sense than we gave him credit for?" Blaise whispered from behind.

"I'm not going. That's stupid. That's idiotic. If those bloody bellends want to go and get themselves killed, then fine by me. They can die for all I care. They can really really go to hell."

"Hell yeah!" Draco cheered, but none of the others joined him.

They went for Granger, because of course, they did, Harry suddenly realised. She was stuck in the Ministry. Stuck because she helped him escape. Stuck and just ready for the Death Eaters to come and kill her. She was Longbottom's best friend. The Boy-Who-Lived's best friend. They wouldn't kill her outright, no. They'd capture her. Torture her. Use her to control Neville. And with the other Weasleys there, the Death Eaters had enough willing victims. And Granger, being the only muggle-born, would surely go first.

It wasn't his problem. No. No, sir. She was there because she had owed him for saving her life at the Three Broomsticks. She paid her debt by helping him escape. He didn't owe her anything. In fact, she made her bed by using Skeeter to dig into his life. If she was there, it was her own fault. If she was tortured, it was her own fault. If she died…

Fuck, why was he even thinking about them? Tonight of all fucking nights, why? No. He couldn't go. Not with Montague here claiming he wasn't the one who hired Dolohov. He needed to figure out if he was lying, or if he really was saying the truth and someone else had been behind the attack. That was what was important. Ever since his experience inside his mind, he had promised himself he would honour her and her parents. He would be spitting in her grave if he just went off to save some morons that didn't deserve him. Where had they all been when Montague had tortured him? When Riddle had possessed him and when the dementors tried to suck his soul out.

He wasn't going. He wasn't going. He was certain. But still…

"I need to talk to Scrimgeour," he said suddenly, turning around and briskly walking towards the door as the marble cage swallowed Montague once again.

"What?"

"No!"

"Harry-"

"I'm not going to the Ministry, alright," he snapped at the group. "Scrimgeour is at London. By now, he must have wrapped up the Death Eater's attack. I can't go to the Ministry, but he can. I just need to tell him Longbottom's there, and he'll have every Auror and Unspeakable on the scene, ready to help them."

"Harry these aren't your typical thugs. Not like what you've been dealing with. Something like this… they're real Death Eaters. Inner circle Death Eaters. The ones who report to the Dark Lord himself. You won't stand a chance-"

"I'm not going, I swear, Pansy," he cut them off before they could continue. "I'm not an idiot. I know I'd be useless. This isn't my fight. But I can't just sit here and let them die. I'm not having one more death on my conscience, I won't!" Harry sighed, shaking off the thought as he turned back to the floating, black square in the centre of the room. "I'll come back. If you don't trust I'll come back to rest, trust that I'll come back for him. I still owe him a reckoning, I promised Susan at least that. Just trust me… stay here… make sure he doesn't die or escape. Can you guys do that for me?"

Blaise, Daphne, and Draco stayed quiet, well aware the question was meant for the other two.

"Alright," Theo said. "I trust you."

"Don't go to the Ministry," Pansy ordered. "Whatever happens, you can't go."

"I won't."

Department of Mysteries

11:40 p.m.

The Department of Mysteries had not been what he had expected. Clotho had been vague, revealing only as much as his vows would allow. But with how constrictive they were made to be, it was often what Clotho didn't say that he took into consideration when planning ahead. Regardless, he couldn't have inquired what he needed to know from him. With schemes inside schemes, it was sometimes best to keep his true objectives to himself as he allowed his followers to do as they pleased.

Tonight had been his most ambitious effort in this department. At face value, his Death Eaters were merely causing chaos all around the country to have the Aurors respond. And while some might simply chalk it up to poor planning to expose the Wizarding World in such a way, it was exactly what Voldemort wanted. A global crisis of this magnitude was necessary to bring the fear of muggles to the forefront. It was only once their threat was out in the open, being addressed, that more people would start turning to his side. And not just in Britain, but all over the globe.

He didn't want to break the Statute of Secrecy yet. Not completely, either way. But it was necessary to do enough damage, leave out a few loose threads the muggles could pull at, and use it to encourage the fear that had once consumed the entire Wizarding World.

Of course, then there was Nemesis' own plot at Hogwarts, ensuring that Longbottom would go to the Ministry as well as keeping an eye on Severus to avoid any unwanted calls to the Order of the Phoenix. It also served as another decoy, one of the many distractions the Aurors would be forced to face tonight.

And finally, there was what people would end up considering as the true objective of the night. The infiltration of the Department of Mysteries as Longbottom was forced to retrieve the prophecy from them before being captured by the Death Eaters. It was a big move, one that would finally spur the Ministry into action and the rest of the Wizarding World to believe his return. Not that it would matter, by the end of the night he would have the prophecy and Longbottom himself.

It had been challenging not to attack the boy directly. He'd had many chances to easily kill him at the graveyard that he was forced to ignore. The last time he attacked the boy, the curse had rebounded on him. It had made it rather clear that any attack on the boy could potentially result fatal for him or anyone else. After spending the better part of fourteen years as a wraith, it was a risk he was not willing to take. Not until he knew the full contents of the prophecy and could use the knowledge to act against him without risking himself.

It had been a complication, one that had allowed the boy to escape the graveyard that night. But he remained resolute, even tonight as he walked right beside the boy without him even knowing it. It would have been so easy. The boy was wandless, surrounded by his Death Eaters, and he was invisible, following them through the Ministry and into the true Department of Mysteries. And yet, he knew that Fate was a force more powerful than himself. If he tried to subvert it once more, he could risk all his carefully laid plans.

No, he would wait until later tonight. Once Zeus gave him the prophecy, he would deal with the boy and finally end this foolish threat. At the moment, he had a different objective. The true reason why he had chosen this moment to send Zeus to the Department of Mysteries. Why he'd attacked Hogwarts and the Muggles and led the entire country on wild goose chases that left the path clear to his true objective.

Mastering Death.

All of his other leads had left him facing dead ends or the wrong end of Dumbledore's wand. Slipping into the Department of Mysteries and manoeuvring through it had been left as the last resort. But with no other paths he could follow and his return about to be revealed to the world, there was no better time to continue his search here.

The defences it had for uninvited guests were impressive. Voldemort felt them the minute he crossed through the Veil and entered the true Department of Mysteries. He could almost touch the surrounding magic, so strong it was nearly physical. It played with space and time and even the person's mind. What in reality was a single square room had been twisted and warped so that there were dozens of rooms, all existing in the same space but at the same time in a whole other reality. He could feel the boundaries of the four walls around him, and yet, he followed the others, walking for minutes on end without moving from place.

It wasn't until everyone began disappearing around him that he finally understood that he was going to be forced to aimlessly search through wherever the magic of the Department of Mysteries took him until he landed on the exact room he was seeking. An impressive security measure, one that would prove dangerous once the Unspeakables returned and attempted to capture or kill all the intruders. The alarm wards had been activated, and even Voldemort couldn't disable them. And as much as he tried to push his magic through the other defences and give himself access to travel between the dozens of different states of the room, it had quickly proved to be impossible.

Voldemort wasn't pleased as the rooms kept shifting around him, pulling him to and from whenever they pleased. It wasn't that there weren't any interesting things to explore inside the Department of Mysteries, having been in some particularly interesting rooms. A library with hundreds of books with countless powerful spells and rituals that he had never known existed. A chamber with over a hundred people restrained in their chairs, their craniums open, with probes poking at their brains and eliciting different reactions from each of them. There was even a room filled with complex historical analysis, detailing butterfly effects and how the astronomical events connected to each. However, he was on a schedule, and with the Unspeakables' arrival imminent he was hurried to find what he needed and leave.

The rooms changed. The groups of people were different every time, scrambled, switched up. Zeus had seemed to pick up on that too given how when he saw him again he had his hand around the back of Longbottom's neck and refused to let go.

He'd explored seven different rooms, wasting over half an hour going through the Unspeakables experiments, before he finally came across what he was looking for.

It was a small, triangular room with a long desk in between two large stacks of cabinets pressed against every wall. The desks were filled with parchments, books, and obscure objects that Voldemort knew the Unspeakables had created. Glowing on the walls, right above the the desks, were the symbols that detailed what each side of the room was dedicated to. The Elder Wand. The Resurrection Stone. The Cloak of Invisibility.

Voldemort moved quickly, unsure of how much time he would have in this room. There were hundreds of files, each detailing different theories, sightings, and stories about the objects. Factual evidence of their existence, after months of searching, was finally in his hands. In his youth, he had thought the Horcruxes would be his way to master Death.

The discovery that the Hallows were actual, real objects changed everything.

Hogwarts Castle

11:55 p.m.

Harry heard as the door to the Room of Requirement shut itself behind it, relieved by the presence of the other five Slytherins inside the Room to know that Montague would remain there. It was a weird feeling, trusting the others with something as important to him as this. Pansy and Theo, trusted them more than anyone else. And though he would never get to the point where he'd be able to trust someone implicitly, they were probably as close as it was going to get. But the other three… it was the first time this was happening. They were Slytherins. Draco and Daphne's parents were Death Eaters. Harry knew better than to just assume they were friends and lower his guard.

It was foolish to assume the three of them didn't want something from him. They had their own motivations and their own personal agendas. And though they were still far from being trustworthy in almost every other thing, making sure Montague didn't escape, or that the Aurors didn't take him away… with that he could trust them. They had kept what really happened on Halloween for half a year now, even after the articles proclaiming him as a killer and giving them an out to turn on him. And as far as he could see, they had grown to hate Elijah almost as much as he did. He could trust them to keep the bastard there for when he finally got back.

Having been dropped off at the Central Hall, Harry was rather close to the nearest exit of the grounds. As soon as he got out of the boundaries of the school's wards, he could apparate to London and find Scrimgeour. It couldn't take more than fifteen to twenty minutes before he was back at Hogwarts. And if he stole another broom from one of the Aurors, he could make it all the way up to the Room of Requirement as quickly as if he could open an entrance to any part of the castle.

The Central Hall was in ruin, the Death Eaters having clearly crossed through here and done their best to damage the castle. There was rubble everywhere. With some of the statues on the ground, portraits slashed, and rugs burning. Even the large fountain depicting the denizens of the magical world had been obliterated, now an indistinguishable mass of rocks with water pouring out from it, flooding the surrounding floor. Still, Harry barely paid any attention to it as he moved across it, pushing himself through the door that led to the small passage on the side.

His body was sore, but he was feeling much better by the second. Pansy's healing had truly done wonders for him, though he would die before admitting that to her. He still felt shaky, and overexcited, most likely because of the adrenaline of the entire night. His heart was still pounding and at times it was hard to breathe. But at least his chest no longer hurt whenever he tried to. At least he could somewhat move his shoulder and jog without his leg wanting nothing more than to give up on him mid-step.

Still, Harry was far from being back at peak condition. And the sudden Cruciatus spasm that hit him as he was walking through the small hall was almost mocking as it reminded him of that. It had almost cost him dearly when he was luring Montague towards the Room of Requirement. Still, he had promised himself he was done for tonight. It wouldn't affect him unless he found some stray Death Eaters with a death wish as he searched through London for Scrimgeour.

Crossing into the Bell Tower, Harry had almost left through the large doors, into the Hogwarts Grounds, when five figures who had been briskly walking towards the castle suddenly stopped in their tracks. The one in the centre, small and plump, suddenly gasped and pointed her finger at him. "It's him! It's Potter. I told you he had been the one to lead the others."

"Professor Umbridge?" Harry tried weakly, the men and women beside her recognizing him and pulling out their wands. Because of course, they did. Bloody Aurors. Bloody Scrimgeour. Why couldn't things just go easy for him? Just this once. "I… I was framed for all these things. I swear."

He wasn't lying, not completely. And if the Aurors found his attempt amusing they didn't show it as they quickly hurled a bunch of stunning charms at him. Harry staggered backward, barely able to move and dodge three of them before he dove behind the wall to evade the others. Not waiting around, trying to convince them, Harry immediately began sprinting towards the North Hall. He was faster than he had been when Montague was chasing him, but these Aurors seemed fit and healthy while Montague had been exhausted and impaled.

"Scamander! Wilkins! Go through the Central Hall and cut through the Transfiguration Courtyard. Snowpear and I will follow him, and we'll surround him."

Oh, great, Harry felt himself growl. Why couldn't it be more stupid Death Eaters with no knowledge of the castle?

This was a waste of time. Every moment he wasted escaping these morons was another moment the Death Eaters had to kill Longbottom and the other Gryffindors. Harry could simply try and tell them that, but he knew that it would be no use. Maybe it was all the blood or his name on every cover of the Prophet for the past month, but they wouldn't exactly take him for his word. Maybe if… Harry's eyes brightened, and a grin appeared on his face but was immediately knocked away as he realised he'd dropped his cloak on the ground when he had lured Montague away. Had he left it there in the Clock Tower Courtyard? Maybe Theo or someone else grabbed it after dealing with the other two Death Eaters.

Yes. He could lose them in the Room of Requirement. He didn't even have to lure them in, he could just shut himself there and then ask for another door on the opposite side of the castle where he could escape.

Spells exploded around him, colliding with the stone walls that lead to the Transfiguration Courtyard. Not particularly inclined to let himself be surrounded just yet, Harry pushed through the hollow portrait of Greta Catchlove and crossed through the tight path before springing out of the connecting portrait on the bottom floor of the Astronomy Wing.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom that nearly shook the castle as Umbridge's voice surrounded him completely for a second. "PIERTOTUM LOCOMOTOR!"

Harry didn't have to wonder what she had done as everything surrounding him suddenly sparked into life. All the statues, the suits of armour, they all came alive at that instant, taking a moment to gather their surroundings before they all turned towards him. BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY DID! He slid across the ground, evading the sword of the suit of armour that had lunged at him. Climbing up the stairs, once again managing to avoid a few of the spells from the Aurors still on his tail, Harry actually screamed in frustration when he saw the rhinoceros' skeleton charge straight for him.

Everything inside the castle was coming alive. Hunting him down. Would the Room of Requirement still be affected? He knew it was sentient, but what if whatever command the headmistress had given it overrode the relationship it had with Harry? The mere thought almost felt like a knife to his chest. If there was something that would never betray him it was the Room, and even now, it didn't seem he could fully trust in it. And even if it didn't try to trap him, the entire castle was covered in statues and suits of armour and things that could attack him. If he appeared somewhere else, he'd still have to deal with this.

No, he couldn't return to the Room of Requirement. And yet, he kept climbing, as he couldn't think of anything else he could do that could save him from his fate.

With everything converging on him from all angles, it was quickly getting impossible to avoid everything. The portraits began to yell out his location. The suits of armour launched their swords and axes at him without a care in the world. Even the small stone gargoyles had flown at him like pilots on a suicide mission trying to take him down. The only reprieve he was granted was the fact that the Astronomy Tower wasn't as filled with large statues as the other wings. Thankfully, the rhinoceros had destroyed itself and tumbled into a pile of bones when it tried to charge against him and hit the wall instead.

Harry wasn't willing to stick around and see if it was reformed by magic.

Taking the stairs he had used when Montague had been chasing him, Harry rushed upward. His body acted on muscle memory as he went through the rubble and demolished staircase, jumping on the rail and momentarily leaving the Aurors behind as they struggled to follow him and instead launched more and more spells he was forced to dodge by throwing his body to the ground and walls, quickly undoing Pansy's work.

He needed to get out of here. If he was too late to the Ministry- No! No. He was not going to the Ministry. He was going to Scrimgeour. But how was he supposed to get back here with Umbridge and the Aurors hunting him down? It wasn't like they'd allow him into the castle. Maybe they'd be called to the Ministry. Yes. That would be enough to pull them down. And with a broom, maybe he'd be able to fly past all the castle's defences that Umbridge had sicked on him.

Scrimgeour. He was going to tell Scrimgeour and that was it.

Harry kept climbing and climbing, the Aurors quickly catching up with him. Going up through the same circular staircases gave him a bad sense of déjà vu, it had been here where Montague had nearly caught him off guard and killed him before he reached the Room of Requirement. Making sure to keep his arms clear of the railing, he made it all the way up and stopped right in front of the Room of Requirement.

Maybe he could still call it. Maybe he was being paranoid. But what would Pansy and the others do? Would they try to stop him from leaving after hearing the Aurors were hunting him down? The hesitation only lasted a moment, but that was all the Aurors needed to catch up with him. He could hear them only a few steps from reaching the top.

The chance was gone.

What was he going to do? What the fuck was he going to do!? He kept climbing, looking for any places where he could hide and then go back down before the Aurors would notice, but none of the spots he could think of convinced him. Out of habit, Harry pulled Black's wand from his holster and gripped it tightly. He had no magic left, of course, he didn't. Well, maybe a little. Maybe just one more spell. Just one. But that would be it. After that, he wouldn't even be able to apparate. He wouldn't be able to reach the Minist- London. He wouldn't be able to reach London. And if he couldn't, then what was the point?

Maybe he could use one of the floos. Go to the Atrium and see if the Aurors were there. Or if that didn't work then to Diagon Alley. Or Grimmauld Place! Yes, Grimmauld Place would be perfect. It would be abandoned with all the Order around the country.

But how would he beat the Aurors? Just one spell. One spell was all he had. And not even a powerful one.

FUCK!

He didn't have to beat them. The thought came with a small voice, one he had almost missed as he continued rushing up towards the Astronomy Tower. He just had to escape. He just had to do something so completely deranged that no self-respecting adult would even try to attempt. And he was heading for the perfect place to do so. One spell. Arresto Momentum.

A leap of faith.

He knew he could get that spell out. He knew it. Trusted fully in it even if the last time he tried to do any magic, nothing but pitiful sparks came out of his wand. This was it. The only way out. His only chance to get to the Ministry in time.

TO LONDON!

To London. To fucking London. He wasn't going to the Ministry. He was useless. Nearly dead. He didn't owe them anything. Those idiots had got themselves there and he wouldn't help them. He wouldn't dishonour his promise to Susan just to save their arses. AGAIN. He promised her. He promised his parents. It was everything he had fought for. All those people he killed. Permanently disfiguring his soul just to get to this moment. To get his time with Montague. To make him pay. Suffer. Scream out in agony. It was all for this, he wasn't giving it up. He'd fought too hard and sacrificed too much to give up now.

We all make mistakes, Harry. We all do things we aren't proud of. Things we wish we could change. But just because we can't go back and change them doesn't mean we can't change ourselves and strive to be better.

No. It wasn't his responsibility to save them. Mrs Weasley would understand. She couldn't expect this of him. He'd run all over the country tonight and did his part! This wasn't a mistake, this was what he needed to do. This wasn't a mistake. Not a mistake. Not a mistake.

Harry reached the second level of the Astronomy Tower, feeling the Aurors right behind him. Their spells only just barely missing the mark now.

He was almost there. Just two levels to go.

People like you - victims - most become more cynical and violent after all that is done to them. And after what you suffered it's completely normal for you to have turned out like this. But that doesn't mean you have to stay that way. You can still change.

No, he couldn't. He didn't need to. He didn't want to. They could rot for all he cared. The Death Eaters could torture them until their minds exploded and Harry wouldn't bat an eye. It wasn't important. It didn't matter. They didn't matter. Mrs Weasley would get over it. He'd already saved them once he didn't need to do it again!

It wouldn't be his fault. He didn't force them to go there. How could they expect him to go there? Why would they blame him? They wouldn't. They wouldn't. He knew they wouldn't. They couldn't. After everything they didn't have the right to. They deserved what they got. He had been left to fend for himself for fifteen years, well, it's about time they went about and did the same thing!

He owed Susan. He owed his parents. He made a promise, and he was going to keep it.

Level three. One of the stunning charms actually managed to blast a piece of the railing beside him, launching shrapnel at him that cut his cheek. Just one more. One more level. A few more seconds and he'd be there.

Susan was a kind, beautiful girl. She cared about people. What you're doing isn't making her proud… it isn't honouring her memory. She'd be less insulted if you were to stand before her grave and piss on it.

Amelia's words in his head made his heart skip a beat, forcing him to jump a couple of stairs to avoid tripping over. He was lying to himself. Susan wouldn't want him to kill Montague. She wouldn't want him to torture him and keep tearing at his soul. Not when he could be out there helping people. People like Ginny who had stayed around him all the winter break trying to make him feel welcome in the cold manor where his wand was snapped. People like Hermione who risked her own freedom just to give him a chance at escape.

He couldn't let Mrs Weasley lose her family. Couldn't handle one more death on his conscience, especially not of the people who tried to look past everything he'd done and give him a chance. Fuck his magic being empty, it didn't matter when he took out Montague and the others. He would go to the Ministry, join Scrimgeour and the Aurors, and make sure every last idiotic Gryffindor made it out of there alive.

I still believe every person in this world still has something to offer if they strive for redemption.

Maybe… just maybe…

He was climbing on all fours when he finally made it to the fourth level of the tower. His eyes quickly landed on the large telescope, the one Harry knew was positioned to look out right above the Hogwarts grounds. He immediately ran to it, crossing through the wooden floor only to suddenly collapse right in the centre of the room as he was hit with another bout of the cruciatus after-effects. This one felt different, harsher, very similar to the first ones he had got after Dolohov had immediately disapparated away from him earlier in the night.

Harry cried out in pain, gripping Black's wand for dear life as he nearly fell to his knees. He could hear the Aurors behind him, reaching the top of the stairs, and suddenly, the last eight steps he had to take before making the jump felt like an entire marathon. But even through the pain, Harry reached deep down and found the strength to push forward and keep walking. The spasm felt like an eternity, but only lasted a couple of seconds, and he barely had time to think about it before he was only two steps away from the railing.

There was a loud cry behind him, but Harry ignored it as he used his hands to vault over the railing and jump into the night. But just as he was floating mid-air, at the apex of his jump, he felt a rush course through his body before his wand was ripped right out of his hand.

"NO!" He shouted, the wand disappearing up into the darkness right as gravity caught hold of him and immediately pulled him down into a break-neck fall.

His body flailed wildly as he fell, his eyes trying to find a glimpse of the wand. Anything to give him even a semblance of a chance to catch it before he crashed onto the ground. But a black wand in the dark night was as hard to find as any of the glimmering hope he was so definitely praying for. He extended his hand, a futile attempt that somehow he would master wandless magic without having even taken the time to practice it or consider it beyond any superficial dreams of not needing a wand anymore.

He was alone. Wandless. Left to die by a stupid Auror who decided to disarm someone stupid enough to throw themselves from the Astronomy Tower.

His heart was racing like never before, almost trying to claw its way out of his chest. He felt his life flash before his eyes, seeing everything happen all at once and making him realise just how ironic this death actually was. How he'd fought off countless hordes of thugs and crooks from the wizarding underworld, only to be killed by a stray disarming charm that left him to fall to his death.

There was a second, a singular moment where time stopped completely. He was halfway down, staring at the upside-down castle in front of him. And for just that quick moment, he didn't feel like he was falling down. But instead, he was surging up. Rising for what felt like the very first time in his life. And in that second where time seemed to stop, he saw something in the darkness below him. He didn't know what he saw. Couldn't really describe it even now. But he was sure it was the wand. Black's wand. Just a couple of feet from his foot.

And then, suddenly, everything sparked back up, the moment was gone, but Harry had been given exactly what he needed. The wand was there. Falling with him. He wouldn't die. Not here. Not at the Ministry. He wouldn't die until he fucking said so, and tonight he said: "Fucking NO!" He tried to control his fall so that he was horizontal and looking up, hoping that was everything he needed for the wand to fall the couple of inches he needed for him to be able to reach and grab it. But his body was too wild to control, the wind around him almost shoving him in every different direction.

He couldn't see the wand, but he knew it was there. Right above him. Taunting him. But it didn't matter, he didn't need to know where the wand was. He was going to grab it, and he was going to fucking live!

Harry felt himself falling faster and faster, the contours of the castle letting him know just how close he was to reaching the ground. But he kept reaching. Kept pushing. Kept fighting to grab the wand.

Then, suddenly, there was a bright orange light that lit up all around him. No, not around him. From inside him. His entire body was being lit up in a yellow-orange glow. A moment later he felt it, actually felt it. The tiny, minuscule magic he had left suddenly soared and powered up. It was like an electric shock, and he felt it course throughout his entire body. All the soreness was gone. The pains. The aches. And somehow, he knew even the Cruciatus after-effects had been cleansed from him. He felt his own magic crackling in his fingers. A bright exuberance unlike anything he had ever felt before hit him. Not even when he had caught Montague only earlier that night had he felt something as powerful as this. At that moment Harry was sure he was so happy he could cast ten Patronuses at once.

He could see the wand right above him, still dangling only feet above him and well above reach. He could see everything around him and how close he truly was to the ground. And then, he saw it, a blast of flames so powerful he felt his entire skin burn from just being in proximity to it. And from the fire surged a large, fiery bird. With red and orange feathers on its wings and torso and its back completely black. A phoenix. As quickly as it appeared, the bird offered up one of his talons and Harry's body acted on its own as he reached for it with his left hand and held on tightly as the phoenix abruptly pushed upward, fully stopping his fall right as he was going to hit the ground before launching him into the air.

Somehow, Harry had been ready for it, as if his body and the bird had been one for a moment and communicated silently. He caught the wand on his way upwards, the strength with which the phoenix threw him unbelievably powerful. And before he knew it, Harry was whooping, laughing loudly as he burst upward. Harry reached exactly the top of the Astronomy Tower, right from where he had just jumped, and saw the four Aurors gaping at him. Pulling back his wand, Harry screamed "Ventus!" and pushed it forward. The Aurors were all thrown back by a mighty gust of wind, crashing roughly onto the ground right as Harry felt his phoenix sore past him and grab his other hand with its talons.

Harry kept laughing, the overwhelming feeling of power and excitement slowly clearing from his body. And yet, he still couldn't contain himself as he continued laughing madly. And he could feel it. Somehow, this was it. After everything he suffered through all his life, this was the universe giving him a second chance. Telling him he was worthy of trying again by actively interfering and saving his life. He knew it wasn't true. That it was just the little boy inside him who still tried to believe the world was fair. But he didn't care. Physically couldn't give three shits about it.

All he knew was that it felt right.

His eyes started stinging even as his laughter refused to stop. He was overcome with a raw sense of emotion, one where he felt his walls come down completely for a moment, and he couldn't help but simply bask in the feeling. As the phoenix continued flying away from the castle, carrying him and occasionally throwing him up in the air before catching him, he allowed himself to believe that maybe it was worth it.

Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel after all.

As they crossed the Hogwarts wards, Harry turned up and finally looked at the phoenix in the eyes. And somehow, he already knew her name.

Aurora.

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

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

By the time I'm posting this, I'm ELEVEN chapters ahead, and have just finished writing the first chapter of the penultimate arc of fifth-year titled Requiem for a Dream! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)