CHAPTER 97: Children of Fate (Part 1)

London

10:45 p.m.

"Excuse me?" Scrimgeour said, his words tight and quiet, Harry had barely heard over the ringing he felt in his ears. Maybe it was all the blows he'd got throughout the night finally affecting him or the dozen or so potions he had chugged without a second thought to how his body might react to them. Most likely, though, it was the news the Auror had just delivered that made Harry stumble on his feet.

When he was ten years old, just a few months before his Hogwarts letter had arrived at Privet Drive, Dudley and his friends had begun to take their Harry Hunting from a small hobby to pass the time and turned it into a competitive sport with Olympic ambitions. The moment the bell rang, and the kids all began to flee from the classroom, Dudley and all of his friends immediately turned to him like robots programmed with only one goal. Most of the time he managed to evade them, rushing home before they could even lay a finger on him. Other times, they managed to catch him and land a few hits before he could get away.

But there was one time specifically, a few days before classes were done for the term, where Piers Polkiss managed to tackle him to the ground. Harry had fought to get free, his heart racing as he heard all the other boys getting closer with every second. Only this time, he hadn't managed to free himself. And before he knew it, seven more boys were on top of him. Looking back, it hadn't been the most efficient way of attacking him. Everyone had just piled on top of him, and because of it, any punch or kick they might have tried to land would either be too soft to deal much damage or would land on someone else. It was like something out of a cartoon, a cloud of dust covering the fight where an occasional limb would come out every few seconds.

Harry hadn't been left with many bruises compared to other huntings, but that was the one he remembered most vividly. With his face forced onto the pavement and the weight of eight boys on top of him, he had nearly passed out. His insides felt like they were being flattened, and he couldn't even muster a breath. It was suffocating in ways his young mind could have never thought possible. And even now, five long years after that day, he was still paralysed by that smothering feeling that took out his breath and left him feeling like his own body was closing in on him.

His hand was shaking, vision blurring, but he wouldn't let himself show it. He tightened his jaw, glaring directly at Scrimgeour as neither man lowered their wands even after what the Auror had told him. His mind was reeling, flying in a hundred different directions as if it was trying to remember how he was supposed to breathe. Names. Faces. Memories. Screams. Laughs. He saw Dolohov standing on top of him with his foot against his chest and his wand pointed against him., gloating. Elijah Montague smiling to himself as he read tomorrow's paper, the final nail in Harry's coffin. Junior shaking his head in disappointment at him, saying how he warned him about it. How he was still too young, too naive, too stupid. He relived every moment of humiliation he'd ever lived through. Of fear. Of desperation. Any thought about figuring out what the Death Eater's real plan was quickly left him as he felt something else overtake him. Wrath.

It wasn't a new feeling. He'd felt it all his life, more so this year than any other. It was the reason why he was still alive. The reason behind everything he did. It was no more a stranger to him than his own skin. But this time, it felt different. Stronger. Overwhelming. It had never felt like this, not when he'd carved Montague open or beat Black near death. It was this that was smothering him. This made his body shake, the magic ebbing out of it like electricity. And at that moment, he knew what he wanted. Knew what he needed. He'd dealt with it before, if he knew anything, it was how to satiate it. How to make himself feel good. How to use it to burn all of them to the ground. Only this time, he didn't give into that sadistic impulse his body was yearning for. This time, he pushed it down. This time, he stood still.

This time, he glared into Scrimgeour's eyes and did nothing as he forced himself to calm down.

Harry blinked through his tears of anger, his body shaking more violently the more he fought against it. And as his vision cleared and Scrimgeour came deeper into view, he could almost see his brain working behind those eyes. His face twisted into a million different emotions, the most prevalent of them being anger that wasn't far away from his own. A part of Harry couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, and if Scrimgeour's conflict was any similar to his own.

"I take it you haven't been up in Scotland, taking siege of Hogwarts recently," Scrimgeour spoke in the same strangled voice.

"Haven't made my way up there just yet," Harry gritted out.

Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes. "And I suppose all the attacks these past few months have been made by this impostor?"

"Yeah, let's go with that," he shrugged.

Scrimgeour scoffed, scratching his hair with his wand hand while pacing in front of the two others. Harry also lowered his wand, if only slightly, before turning back to the rookie. The boy was shaking nearly as much as Harry had been, but instead of anger, it was fear that coloured his expression. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he had pissed himself under his robes while he and Scrimgeour had taken their eyes off of him. "Tell me what you know," Harry demanded.

The rookie opened his mouth, but before a word came out, Scrimgeour snarled at him. "Don't say a word to him!"

"The hell he won't," Harry snapped. "The Death Eaters didn't transform themselves into me for kicks! And I'll be damned if you think I'm just going to stand here and let them drag my name through the mud for whatever their plan is."

"You did that all on your own," Scrimgeour said darkly.

"Maybe I did," he challenged. "But whatever my image is, it'll be because of what I did, not what some bastard did while pretending to be me."

Harry turned and began walking away only to quickly roll to his right and dodge the two hexes that had been sent this way. Immediately standing up, Harry trained his wand on Scrimgeour and found the man already had his wand aimed at him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Someone needs to stop those bastards."

"And that'll be you?" Scrimgeour scoffed.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "That'll be me."

"No, I don't think so," Scrimgeour turned towards the rookie. "How many Aurors are still at Hogwarts?"

"Ma-Madam Umbridge sent most o-of us to defend from the at-atacks," he stuttered. "Ma-Maybe three or fo-four?"

"Four?" Scrimgeour echoed.

"The-The students already kil-kil-" the rookie sputtered for a while, his head bowed in shame. "There can't be mo-more than four lef-left."

"Go around the city and gather three or four Aurors that aren't essential to stopping these attacks. Three or four Aurors from each city should be enough to counter the attack. Now move!"

"No," Harry called out, and to his surprise, the rookie stood there and listened to him. "Hogwarts is only a distraction, I'll handle it. Keep your Aurors here, there are more people in need. The faster you clear the cities the faster you can focus on the Death Eater's real plan."

"And pray tell," Scrimgeour drawled. "What is this real plan?"

"The Department of Mysteries."

The rookie paled even further, but Scrimgeour's face only got darker. "You're reaching."

"Try me," Harry shrugged. "Send a small team to the Ministry. They'll be dead before they can get past the Atrium."

He didn't know if what he was saying was true. It made sense, given everything he knew. But frankly, he didn't care. Maybe the Hogwarts truly was a distraction, but one made for him. Or maybe he was never supposed to find out about it. Maybe Bedivere had been wrong in thinking the Department of Mysteries was a target of the attack. Maybe it was some sort of reverse psychology to get Harry to try and trick Harry into going. He wasn't sure of anything these days. What he was sure of, was that his friends were at Hogwarts, and someone inside the Death Eaters had plotted to completely eviscerate his image, more than he already had over the past year. Having the Aurors there would only slow him down, and distracting them further from stopping these attacks would only give the Death Eaters what they wanted.

"I'm not going to waste my Aurors on your say-so," Scrimgeour bit out.

Idiot. "Suit yourself. But I'm going, either way."

Before either of the men could react, Harry apparated right behind the rookie. The man squeaked like a girl, and Harry ripped the broom right from his hands before ducking away from Scrimgeour's hexes. "Get back here Potter!"

Harry kept dodging the curses, but with the large broom, it was hard to manoeuvre around. "Finish up here and go to the Ministry!" Harry shouted back before apparating away, reappearing on the other side of town, a hundred feet in the air. Placing himself on the broom, Harry quickly shot out through the night sky, searching for the fastest route out of the Dark Mark's anti-apparition dome.

Ministry of Magic

10:45 p.m.

Neville was fuming. Standing in shock, he was a ball of energy. He felt it crackling around him as if suddenly lightning bolts were going to spurt from his body and kill everyone in the Atrium. Gruesomely. Immediately. His entire body was shaking with anger, and though he felt the Weasleys behind him, he didn't care. Didn't try to control it or try to subside it. Instead, he looked at Hermione, a trembling, whimpering lump in the ground, surrounded by Death Eaters, and he let his anger flow. Let it consume him. Blind him. If only he had his wand, he could do so much more than just stand there in a quiet rage.

You know the spell, Neville.

Neville blinked, and the Atrium disappeared in front of him. A small fire below a cauldron was the only light in the night, and all around him were the Death Eaters. Laughing at him. Mocking him. Voldemort stood in front of him, waiting for him to make the first move. He didn't just want to kill him. He wanted to humiliate him. To prove to his followers that he was only a mere boy. That no one would ever compare to the power Voldemort boasted. He wanted a duel. But after watching the Death Eaters torture and kill Viktor for trying to defend him. After being hoisted up and forced to participate in the ritual. After the imperius and the cruciatus, the humiliation, and the threats to his friends, Neville wasn't looking for a duel. He was looking to kill.

He knew the spell.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Neville snarled, feeling something inside him break as a blinding, green light lit up the entire graveyard. Some Death Eaters gasped with shock, but not Voldemort, who merely exploded into a cloud of darkness and stood there as the spell passed through him, crashing against a yellow shirt only a few feet behind its intended target.

The entire Atrium suddenly exploded. Every window and glass pane nearby shattered in an instant. Even Neville himself began glowing slightly at the sheer power of his magic. Before suddenly, a strangled cry brought him back to reality, as he turned back to Hermione who was convulsing on the ground violently, while the hag above her laughed. "STOP!" He roared, and though he felt his magic flare again, he didn't dare to lose control of it yet again. "STOP IT NOW!" He shouted after they didn't stop.

The leader - Zeus - put his hand up and the woman reluctantly let go of the curse. Neville was panting, his heart twisting inside him as he watched Hermione try to pull herself back up, only to fall back to the ground, shaking. Neville looked up, glaring at Zeus who had walked closer to him and was now analysing him. "Powerful indeed," the Death Eater mused. "Very impressive, Mister Longbottom. I've met very few wizards capable of what you just accomplished. You should feel proud. Not that it matters here. See," Slowly, Zeus reached down to the ground and picked up one of the wands - Neville's wand - and paced as he analysed it. "Having a strong magical core is not the only source of power in this world. It helps, of course, it does! And it would make you invincible in the eyes of many. But sometimes… it's not enough, is it?"

Zeus slammed his cane on the floor twice, and the other four wands suddenly flew into the air, shrinking as they disappeared into Zeus' robes. He held Neville's wand up, looking at it carefully, and it was just close enough that if Neville tried to reach for it, he might just be able to grab it. But the moment he thought of that, Hermione's screams burst into his mind once again. And he forced himself to keep his hands to his sides. Zeus tilted his head at his lack of response, and Neville could almost see the smirk behind the mask as Zeus pocketed Neville's wand.

"Off we go then," Zeus shouted as he turned around. "Time is of the essence here."

The Death Eaters ushered them forward, and though it looked like the twins were going to rebel, they looked at Ron and Ginny and decided against it. No other spells needed to be cast, the threat of over a dozen wands around them proved to be enough to make them move. Hermione, on the other hand, was having trouble standing up. The five of them were forced to watch as the woman Death Eater - Artemis - conjured an iron leash around her throat and forced her to her feet. But when one of her spasms hit again, and she dropped back to the ground, Artemis didn't try to lift her to her feet again. Instead, she yanked the chain, as if Hermione was nothing more than a stubborn mutt, and dragged her along the floor.

"The mudblood knows her place," one of the Death Eaters mocked, and the others laughed, with Artemis being the loudest.

Seeing the shame, the absolute despair written all over her face lit up the fuse in Neville's gut, and he couldn't control it anymore. All the anger he had pushed down, forced for her sake, burst to the surface, causing even the Weasleys to look at him warily. Zeus must have felt it too, because he abruptly turned back to him, warning him with a single glance. But he didn't care. The raw hatred he felt for that woman was burning him up inside, he could feel his entire body tremble nearly as much as Hermione's. It was aching for release. Aching to hurt. To kill her. Even Hermione turned to him, looking more afraid than before. But Neville ignored it. He kept looking at her, fuelling the anger he felt on that single image he knew he'd never be able to forget. It was then that Hermione's face shifted, turning sombre and determined before she used her hands and pushed herself off the ground. Her knees were shaking, as if the weight of her own body was too much for her legs, but she pulled herself up until she was face to face with Artemis, glaring defiantly at the witch.

And for a moment, with a single tilt of her head and a sudden movement with her wand, she looked just as pissed off as Neville felt. But then the chain wrapped around Hermione's neck suddenly unlatched and crumbled to the ground. Zeus put his wand back into his cane and looked sternly at Artemis for a moment before continuing along the path.

When they reached the elevators, the kids were separated into two groups as they entered the lifts, with Ron and the twins entering the first one, escorted by a group of six other Death Eaters that surrounded them inside, while Neville, Ginny, and Hermione entered the next one, with Artemis, Zeus, and four other Death Eaters. Neville turned to Hermione, trying not to be obvious as he took her in completely. It was clear that just standing up was too much for her, and during another spasm she had inside the lift she almost fell back to her knees. Would have fallen, if Neville hadn't caught her before she did. She avoided his gaze, even as he helped her steady herself, and he could see dried tears all over her face. His body suddenly overtook his mind and he reached for Hermione's hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. But still, she refused to look at him. His mouth opened, but no words came, and even as he tried again, and again his mind wouldn't cooperate.

He didn't release her hand, even as the lift opened up and the Death Eaters pushed them out. Ron and the twins were already waiting for them, the three brothers immediately rushing towards Ginny and encasing her inside a protective triangle. She looked like she was going to say something for a moment, but instead, she clung to Fred's arm and closed her eyes for a moment. The Death Eaters led them across the hall, and they only walked for a minute at most before they reached a solitary door, the only one on this level. One he'd seen many times before, every time he went to sleep. It was only once he was a few feet from the door and the circle of Death Eaters opened up that he saw the three corpses on the floor.

"Mind your step, if you will," Zeus said pleasantly, making sure to step between the corpses as he walked past them. Neville heard the door open, but his eyes were glued to the floor as memories from the summer and winter break flashed before his eyes. He didn't know their names, but he'd seen them before at Grimmauld Place. More people who died because of him. Neville could only hope there weren't any more deaths before the night ended. He turned towards Hermione and the Weasleys, all terrified. All completely over their heads in having followed him here. He should have stopped them, should have tricked them. Should have done anything to make sure he'd gone alone. Neville blinked, and five corpses stood in front of him, all murdered in different, but equally brutal ways. He blinked again, and they were gone, replaced once again by his friends.

They didn't look any less dead to him.

Zeus coughed in front of them, gaining their attention, and gestured towards the open door. "After you, Mister Longbottom." He said silkily. Neville squared his shoulders and took in a deep breath. He didn't know what was behind this door, didn't know the full extent of Voldemort's plan. He'd known this was a trap and he came regardless. He came to rescue his friend, and that's what he was going to do. Walking past the bodies on the floor and staring into the dark abyss, Neville vowed to make sure his friends would leave the Ministry. Safe. Alive. Whole. It was that thought that kept him centred as he walked past the threshold and into the darkness.

Azkaban Prison

10:45 p.m.

Bedivere reached the upper floor of the tower and walked inside. With tonight being as important as it was, Bedivere wasn't sure if the Dark Lord would find his interruption a nuisance. It was because of this that he had a healthy cover story ready, a message from Malfoy informing him that the Ministry had been cleared of any remaining staff and that the Selwyn boy had just announced that Longbottom had just entered into the Three Broomsticks. The message, while not crucial, would be a welcome update that would signal Malfoy's plan had been working perfectly so far.

However, when he walked inside the Dark Lord's throne room, it was empty. The only living thing inside was the Dark Lord's snake, who was slumbering in the crook right beside the large throne. Bedivere had come here to ensure that the Dark Lord was here before notifying Kieran and Augustus that they could proceed with their intended targets. It had just been a preventative measure, nothing more than a routine check-in. But with the Dark Lord out of Azkaban, Bedivere couldn't help but wonder where he was. The Dark Lord never went anywhere without a purpose, the only other times he'd left the prison since it had been taken had been for his trips abroad, but he doubted the Dark Lord would leave the country today of all days.

Still, tonight wasn't something that could be wasted. Even with the Dark Lord's location unknown, there would be no better time than to hunt for the Horcruxes they hadn't been able to get hold of. And the Dark Lord's absence from Azkaban while everyone else had also been sent off had brought yet another unexpected opportunity, one he didn't think he'd ever receive again. Unsheathing his arm, Bedivere pressed his fingers into his mark and spoke.

"Proceed but remain vigilant. The Dark Lord has left Azkaban."

Hogwarts Castle

10:45 p.m.

The moment Daphne touched her wand, it struck her body like a bolt of lightning. It had been weeks since she had touched it since she had felt the magic course around her body like this. She felt it travel along her body, eliciting a soft smile as she felt whole once again.

Theo had dragged the four of them all over the castle, first searching in the Defence Against the Dark Arts office before heading up towards the seventh floor where they tried to force the gargoyle to let them up to the Headmistress' office, and finally back down towards the teacher's lounge, where they finally ended up finding their wands safely stored away. Thankfully, Umbridge hadn't just tossed them in the first drawer she could find, instead sorting them out by house, year, and gender in a systematic approach. Daphne doubted anyone would forget how their wand looked or feel that spark that coursed through their veins with any other wand that wasn't their own, but having them pristinely ordered like Umbridge had had saved them a lot of time.

"Ohhhh," Draco all but moaned, his face twisting and body quivering as if a sudden orgasm had just hit it. "How I've missed you." It was the type of reaction that usually earned him a healthy dose of ridicule from the others, but all the Slytherins were too engrossed by the feeling of getting their magic back to really pay attention to Draco. Blaise was staring reverently at his wand, while Theo and Pansy both carefully twisted it around their hand as if getting used to the feel of it again.

"I'm never letting you go again."

Blaise snorted at Draco's words, holstering his wand as he was finally brought back to reality. "Try telling that to Umbridge."

Draco scoffed. "I'll tell her, I will. You'll see. Barbaric, it is, taking our wands away. She treats us as if we're nothing more than filthy muggles! Just wait-"

"Until my father hears about this," the four other Slytherins finished for him.

"Oh, shut your mouths," Draco snapped. "Why I keep you morons around, I'll never know."

"It's because you know no one else will bear with you, Draco," Theo patted him on the back.

The castle suddenly shook, as if a small earthquake had hit it. It shook again, this time slightly harder. Screams echoed from far away, and the five Slytherins turned to each other hesitantly. Before fifth year, Daphne had always considered herself the leader of their Slytherin year group. Draco always pretended to be their leader, bossing them around, but no one ever listened to him. Blaise had always been very disinterested in the role, Harry and Pansy were two outcasts who only ever talked to them in times of crisis or major decisions. And Theo, who had once been her rival for the position, had gone soft after the third year. Of course, Bullstrode, Davis, Crabbe, and Goyle, but the four of them were brainless, talentless morons without an organ between their ears, so Daphne never considered them as competition.

However, it was at that moment when the five of them looked at each other for answers, disturbed and paralysed by the approaching threat, that she realised she had never been their leader. Sure, she was smart. Maybe not as intellectually smart as Pansy, but she was smarter in the other ways - the ways that counted, really. She was cunning and resourceful and everything a Slytherin should be, or at least she felt that way. But as the castle shook and the vague sounds of spells crashing against the outside walls filled the silence, she realised she had no idea what to do. In the past, it had always been Harry who took charge of them during the life-threatening situations they'd faced. It had been him that snapped them out of their stupor when the Chamber of Secrets opened and students started getting petrified. He who forced them to move and run away as the dementors attacked the stands during one of the Quidditch games back in the third year. He was the one who stood up against Montague and led them against the other Slytherins. Maybe, during the quiet times, she might have been able to convince herself that she was their leader. But every time shit hit the fan, it had always been Harry who took the reins, albeit reluctantly and self-interestedly, and told them what to do.

Right now, none of them knew what to do.

"Alright," Theo said tepidly. He had been trying to step in ever since Harry's absence. And though sometimes, a spark of the old Theo would come back, it wouldn't be free for long. And even at his best, Theo just didn't have Harry's… hardness? Damage? At this point, Daphne didn't think Harry himself knew the difference.

"You can't expect us to go down there and fight?" Draco squeaked out, his hand pale as he clung to his wand.

"Of course Theo wasn't going to say that," Pansy stepped in. "He's not a moron."

"Oh, alright," Draco nodded. "Good. Good."

"Don't worry, Draco," Blaise tried to plaster a smile on his face, but Daphne could see him paling. "You get to keep being a snivelling coward and no one's the wiser."

"I'm not a coward. I just… I'm… well, I'm not a moron, that's what. Honestly, you're more than welcome to go down there yourself!"

"Oh, no, I'm fine right here, thank you very much."

"Weren't you just calling him out as a coward?" Daphne raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, but I'm a proud coward. A small difference, but one that makes me look more dignified."

"Oi, I'm a proud coward as well!" Draco

"Alright enough!" Theo shut them all up. "Elijah Montague's still our priority. The teachers are all down there, they'll protect the others. This is our one chance."

No one was too happy about their continued plan, but none of them complained as they followed Theo and Pansy up the faculty tower and towards the infirmary, all of them trying to ignore the remnant blares of the spell fights taking place right outside the castle. Daphne could feel the apprehension in the air. At first, she was sure it was simply her own unease at walking straight into the hands of Elijah Montague. She had dealt with his brother, and if Graham was a testament to the Montagues, Elijah would be just as oppressive and disturbing as his brother. Especially given everything that had happened since term started. But as she looked around her, she saw all of them as wary as she was. It was only natural, she mused, the five of them had helped Harry cover up his brother's murder. One could argue, they helped him kill him. Neither of them were excited about facing down Elijah Montague in the same place his own brother had died.

He was waiting for them by the time they arrived, leaning against a table, his arms outstretched, positioned directly in front of the door. The Slytherins didn't hesitate, all of them immediately training their wands on Elijah Montague. He gave a soft laugh at them, eying them like a snake would look at a mouse. It was clear, even to them, that it didn't matter that Elijah Montague still had his wand holstered. He was the one in control of the room.

"It's good you came," his voice was deep and cold, and Daphne couldn't find any sign of life as she looked into his eyes. "I was worried I would have to seek you out myself."

Theo stepped ahead of the group, a valiant if idiotic move. It was the type of thing Harry would have done. "What did you tell Longbottom?" He demanded, unfortunately his voice was much more childish and less commanding than Elijah's.

"I told him the truth," Elijah said simply. "I told him his mud-blood friend was going to die by the end of the night."

"Do you seriously think he won't figure out it was all a set-up?"

Elijah tilted his head as if seriously considering the question. "Knowing Longbottom, I'd say my odds aren't terrible. Regardless, it is of no matter. See, Longbottom could have known it was all a ploy to get him there. Perhaps he does, deep inside his caveman mind. But it doesn't matter, because Neville Longbottom is stupid enough to put himself in danger for the sake of his friends. I shouldn't be surprised you five are just the same."

"Was it that supposed to mean?" Draco blurted out before catching himself and blushing.

Slowly, keeping his hands clear of his robes, Elijah pushed himself off the table and began walking towards them. He stopped right in front of Theo and looked at him weirdly, analysing him in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Her heart was racing, the sounds of blasts of battle getting closer with every second. But Elijah kept them all transfixed to him. Her hands were sweating, her wand felt like it was about to fall from her hands. Her very surroundings began shrinking as the only thing she was aware of, beyond Elijah's voice, was the sound of her own heartbeat. He turned towards them, studying them in the same way he had studied Theo. And when he finally turned to her, Daphne could see a slight gleam in his eyes that made her heart stop.

He was going to tell them.

"Theodore Nott," Elijah began. "A self-centred cockroach, as vile and cruel as his father while pretending to be a moral paragon. Pansy Parkinson, smart, strong, and independent. All those brains just for her to be the mindless tool for her grandfather. Draco Malfoy, Lucius' great disappointment, a sissy, spoiled boy. Convinced of his aspirations of greatness, always trying to compensate for his lack of anything that would make him stand out. Blaise Zabini, a tantrumming, hypocritical child, unable to see the big picture in any situation. And Daphne Greengrass, the greatest Slytherin of them all. The leader. The brilliant one. The one who would let others carry her to the top and claim she got there on her own." He turned around and gave a mirthless laugh. "The infamous Silver Six! The next best thing after the Golden Trio."

"Those are five, you twat," Blaise said coldly, looking just as affected as everyone else by Elijah's words.

"Oh, yes," Elijah turned back, a murderous expression on his face. "Who could ever forget about Harry Potter? A mindless animal, incapable of thinking about anything that doesn't end with bloodshed. It's truly outstanding he waited so long before he killed my brother." The words came with a chill that made the temperature in the entire room drop. Daphne could see everyone around her stiffening at the mere insinuation of Graham Montague. Her entire body was pulsating, she felt as afraid as she had felt that night when Graham had dragged her down to the common room where Harry had already been chained up, just waiting for them to wake him up. As frightened as she'd been during the battle of the Three Broomsticks when Dolohov had taken both her and Draco down, looking positively antsy at the concept of killing them before his eyes settled on Susan. As utterly petrified as she'd been that night, in the purple room, when she was being interrogated about Graham's death before her own uncle slammed her head down onto the table, took out his wand, and whispered in her ear: "Imperio."

Elijah knew. And everyone else was only just beginning to grasp the possibility that he knew. The curses began getting much louder, Daphne could practically feel the entire tower about to crumble down around them. But they all stood still, the shock from Montague's words only just starting to wear off.

"How long have you known?" Pansy asked.

"About Potter? Days before my brother's corpse was in the ground. Of you five? Since the winter break." Everyone was startled by the admission. Draco's wand was shaking, Pansy looked like he was seriously considering taking out the last threat to their connection to the Montague murder. And then, Elijah turned to her and smiled. "Isn't that right, Daphne?"

Everyone turned to her, a collective mixture of betrayal and outrage stared at her, and Daphne wished for nothing more than the ground to swallow her up and take her away. She wanted to tell them that it wasn't her fault. That she didn't have a choice. She wanted to yell at them that they had no idea what it was like to be put under the imperius curse. That the last thing she had wanted was to betray them to Elijah bloody Montague. That she hated the Montagues nearly as much as Harry. That she wasn't stupid enough to tell anyone something that could put them all in Azkaban. That could very well lead to her being murdered by Harry. But she couldn't, shame and anger overtook her, but Daphne kept her eyes ahead, glaring at Elijah as she tightened her grip on her wand yet again.

She wanted to hurl a curse at him. To kill him right where he stood. To cover the whole thing up just as they had done so with Graham. But she couldn't. In a battle between her rage against Montague and her fear of her own family, her fear won out. She tried taking solace from her wand. Of the fact she had it in her hand, surrounded by friends, while Elijah was alone and unarmed. But it was a house of cards, a false comfort that would crumble the moment someone touched it.

"What do you plan to do?" Draco asked shakily.

"As far as the Aurors are concerned, the case is closed," Elijah said evenly. "And your parents have made it explicitly clear that all of you are untouchable. Especially tonight." Elijah turned to a spot behind the group. "Well, all but one."

Everyone turned to Blaise, the blood quickly draining from his face as Montague's words hit him. He looked petrified, as if Slytherin's snake had woken up once again and forced itself on him. And the next moment, his face contorted in rage. He lashed out his wand and shouted "CONFRIN-" but before he could finish it, a spell hit his back and his wand went flying across the infirmary. Everyone turned around and watched as two seventh-year Ravenclaws hurried up the stairs, launching disarming charms at them. Draco managed to block in time, but the other spell hit Daphne and ripped out her wand from her hand.

She turned around, tracking it as it flew only for her eyes to land on Elijah, who had taken advantage of everyone focusing on the other students and pulled out his wand. He quickly launched another two spells, easily disarming Theo and Pansy, before yanking his wand roughly and pulling Blaise from the group. His head crashed against the ground, his body rolling across the infirmary where Elijah grabbed him up by the scruff of his neck and pulled him up.

It was moments later that Draco's wand clattered on the floor, losing the fight against the two seventh-years. The four of them were herded deeper into the infirmary before the two seventh years closed the door behind them and summoned the wands on the floor to them. They were all left helpless to look as Elijah quickly reached into his cloak and pull out a large rune-covered knife before holding it up to Blaise's throat.

Theo gasped beside her, and Daphne quickly realised why as she recognised the knife Montague was brandishing. All five Slytherins did.

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! :)