A/N: Due to the glitch, chapters were re/disappearing last week and FFN wasn't sending out alerts. In case this affected you, there was a chapter posted last Sunday (Jan 12). I don't know how much I can trust the Stats page right now, but it looks like a lot of people didn't get to read it. You'll want to read that one first before this chapter!
Now, onto the regularly-scheduled programming...
"ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴏᴇɴɪx ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇ."
― ᴊᴀɴᴇᴛ ꜰɪᴛᴄʜ, ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴏʟᴇᴀɴᴅᴇʀ
Chapter Twenty-Two: Shadow Play
Earlier that night...
The plaintive sound of something howling cut through the heavy, wet darkness as they moved along the narrow lane in a loose knot, fenced in on the left by a mass of blackthorn and other brambles growing tightly together in cruel, spiky structures and on the right by a high, manicured yew hedge, rich green and speckled with dull red berries. The air smelled of future rain and damp earth. Tee's hair curled and clung to his forehead and the nape of his neck, which prickled with hives. Not thinking, he scratched it, and it only wealed more, his fingernails drawing blood. His heart beat strangely in his chest, his left hand fingering the hilt of the pine wand.
Anticipation or fear? Tee pushed it down. After all, he had only gotten this far by ignoring such questions. They would do him no good now.
His companions seemed equally unsettled, stone-faced and silent. There weren't many of them: Dumbledore, of course, his gaze skimming the hedge; Moody, his enhanced vision probably piercing through it; Sirius, who seemed utterly focused on the task, like his hound Animagus, having caught the scent; Lupin, moving with twitchy anxiety; Bill, walking with slow, careful steps; Tonks, who kept glancing behind them; and the Auror whose name Tee hadn't caught. There hadn't been time for introductions, or it hadn't been appropriate, perhaps.
Right now, thought Tee, the plan is to walk in through the front door. He nearly laughed aloud, but stopped himself. That would have been difficult to explain.
Iron-wrought gates towered out of the gloom, shimmering with moisture. Those in front stopped as they reached them, the gathered members of the Order — Tee was not sure whether that included him — fanning out before the gates as a horrible, creaking, groaning noise sounded out into the night. The iron bars writhed and contorted as if in pain until they formed a gargoyle-like face which spoke in an echoing voice:
"State your purpose!"
"We intend to pay the Malfoys and their guests a visit," said Dumbledore pleasantly, his voice echoing, too. "We shall not be long, and they might even be expecting us."
The face melted away; the gates swung open. Tee did not know if Dumbledore's demeanour had deceived them or if he had done something to them. Either way, they continued down the narrow drive, drawing their wands, feet crunching on the gravel. At least they had the cover of darkness, something of the element of surprise.
Why? Why did his heart beat so strangely in his chest? It was not because Potter was in danger — either of them, he decided. It was Voldemort. Not the same fear as the others, the fear of being killed, but a fear yet more ancestral and childish, that the great wizard of his personal legend would again want nothing to do with him.
Tee swore under his breath, too loudly, because Tonks whipped towards him, thinking he had seen something in the dark. He should not think such things. He should not want to be coddled. That was childish and stupid. He was no longer the oldest left in Wool's Orphanage. And Voldemort was not his father. Just a reflection of himself, particles shone at him from the surface of a mirror.
And the thing inside the mirror, Tee reminded himself, is not real.
So, which was the original? He, the Horcrux, named for the pencilled remnants of a fifty-year-old diary? Surely not. He must be the counterfeit. The thought was a yawning void of existential dread, and it threatened to dislodge him from reality, to send him back to that hateful prison of searing white—
The gravel stopped crunching around him, and he nearly ran headlong into Dumbledore. They had come to the front door.
"Well, can't turn back now," said the Auror whose name Tee did not know. He moved carefully, trying to make his footsteps as silent as possible. Tee peered at the house — the manor. It was handsomer than the Riddle House, and immaculately kept. Some large white birds strutted up and down, glowing in the gloom, and he heard a fountain chattering from somewhere to the right. The diamond-paned windows gleamed with a soft light. It almost seemed irreverent to disturb the tableau.
"It's open?" whispered the Auror, turning to the rest. Tee could just make out his surprised expression.
"Perhaps they are waiting for us," Dumbledore murmured as the front door swung open.
There had better not be Inferi in here, Tee thought, following him in, wand pointed into the large, dimly-lit hallway. His nerves were frayed enough as it were.
The door swung shut behind them, and they made a rough circle as they went, backs facing each other, eyes scanning the darkness, the carpet under their feet swallowing their steps.
"What was that noise?" The person on his right— Lupin.
Everyone stopped dead, waiting for whatever it was to sound again. It did not disappoint. A high, keening cackle resounded through the stone hallways, more like the fox outside than a human, and then, Tee heard the unmistakable, splintering sounds of spellfire.
"I think it's coming from down there," said Tonks, pointing towards a section of the hallway leading to the right.
"The kids!" That was Sirius brushing past him now, pushing past Dumbledore, too, breaking into a run.
Those who remained all looked at each other. He's right, thought Tee. We've come here to do a job. Why linger? The only way out is through. The circle clustered back into a dense knot, picking up speed into a march, past the yawning emptiness of drawing-room, into a run, around a corner, sounds of fighting growing louder, voices now, too.
"—I think this one is Arthur Weasley's son," said a man's voice, darkly amused.
"Ron!" shouted Bill, breaking from the group to rush ahead despite Moody trying to get him to stay back.
"Let him go!" a girl shrieked. "Let him go! Let him—"
Her shouts cut off, but Tee heard struggling, and then a yelp.
"The little bitch bit me!" yelped another man, this one with a high, wheezing voice.
"Quiet, Bartemius," said a woman in an authoritative tone. "So these are Potter's friends, then, come to rescue him? Weasley, the Mudblood, but who is the last? Cissy?"
Cissy. Narcissa Malfoy.
Tee had met her before, once. She soundet as chilly as he recalled, following the flickering lights lining the hallway. "Benjamin Goldstein's poor, crippled boy, of course."
Overlapping laughter rang out, a woman's first, and then the man who had yelped, Tee thought.
"Well, I think they are hardly worth alerting the Dark Lord," said the first woman. "I will dispose of them."
"Wait, Bella," said Narcissa. "Where is the last one — Potter's sister? She must be here, too."
"She's not here," said a boy, but he sounded scared, and a scream of pain followed, echoing through the manor like the cries of a wounded animal.
"I will find her after we take care of these three," said Bella.
"You will do no such thing, cousin!"
Tee was struck, as they rounded the corner which Bill had just disappeared around, how much Sirius sounded like this woman — looked like her too, he realised, as they emerged into the light. Sirius stood before the whole assembly, breathing hard, wand drawn. Her eyes wide with fury in her pale, livid face, she approached with a fierce, triumphant smile, throwing her long, dark hair behind her shoulders.
"Really? You and what army?"
Behind her was a man with a mop of fair hair — and yes, it was one of Harry Potter's friends thrashing in his grip, another restrained by a pale man who looked like Abraxas, and one more who looked to have been Stunned, lying in a crumpled heap at Narcissa's feet. Bill was moving through the shadows at the edges of the room, his eyes locked on the Stunned boy.
"Why, us, of course, my dear Bellatrix," said Dumbledore, stepping into the light. "Now, I suppose you will have to alert your Dark Lord."
Bella— Bellatrix started at the sight of Dumbledore, gazing at him with a look of pure hate, but perhaps not surprise. Everyone behind her froze, too. It seemed, for all of their bluster, none of them considered themselves a match. Tee gripped the hilt of the pine wand, but the rest of them had barely been noticed behind him.
All of a sudden, Bellatrix whirled around, her face pointed at the ceiling, and Tee heard her call, in a mocking, disdainful tone, "My Lord! Dumbledore is here… to rescue Baby Potter and his friends!" She turned back towards Dumbledore, face glittering with spite.
"Go," said Sirius, who had not moved an inch. "Go find them. Please. Before—"
Before it's too late. Tee's mind filled in the words Sirius was afraid to speak, and Dumbledore seemed to as well, nodding.
"We can take care of this lot," said Moody, stepping forward as Dumbledore disappeared down the hallway. "Seven to four; I don't like your odds, Lestrange."
Bellatrix laughed again, the hard, sharp sound echoing through the room. "My odds, Alastor?" Her eyes widened in a mocking expression, her head tilting delicately. "You might want to learn to count."
Tonks spun around, shouting in surprise. Tee followed her movement; four more Death Eaters stood behind them.
No going forward, no going back. The only way out was through. The room erupted into chaos as Moody cast a spell at the straw-haired man, sending him flying back into the wall and causing him to drop the girl. The Auror engaged Malfoy; Narcissa cut off Bill before he reached the boy lying on the floor, while the girl started trying to shake him awake. Bellatrix's first curse missed Sirius as he swung around. Tee's distraction was rewarded with a curse whizzing past his face, close enough to singe his hair.
"Got your attention!" said a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face. He had a just-perceptible accent, but it was enough to guess who he was.
"Dolohov," said Tee. "That Slash Curse was a nice little puzzle."
Recognition flashed in Dolohov's eyes. "You like puzzles, eh? How about this one?"
He slashed his wand, and the air crackled with a sickly, purple energy that made Tee's mouth taste of acid, only just managing to shield himself, but even the attenuated energy slammed into him with such force that his feet left the ground and he skidded painfully along the ground. As he did he heard Sirius call, "Wormtail!" his voice sharp and full of spite. Tee pushed himself to his feet, another curse splintering the ground next to him.
"—no, don't run, you coward! I want to commit the murder I was sentenced to Azkaban for!"
The two wizards engaged, spells meeting in a multicoloured firework that broke the air into ozone, just as Tee found himself at the end of Bellatrix's wand, her hair streaming behind her in a dark banner in the wind billowing from a blasted-out window. Still, he did not feel fear, only excitement. The bout with Dolohov had warmed his blood, setting his veins to a pleasant, steady boil, skin prickling with electricity, his wand weightless in his hand.
"So now Dumbledore recruits children into his army?"
Tee's mouth still tasted like acid from Dolohov's curse. Annoyance coursed through him. He was a worthy opponent. He ought to be treated as such. "I'm nineteen."
A harsh smile played on Bellatrix's face. "I would say I will make it quick in that case… but the truth is, I have never liked children."
"Likewise." He danced away from the first curse, blocked the next, and deflected the third with a curse of his own. Tee reached out with his sixth sense, but the probe curved, meeting a plane as smooth and blank as a polished mirror. Bellatrix laughed at his failure. He could have tried again, found a chink to squeeze in through, but it would be a waste of time. Right now, her mind was as iron-clad as her confidence. He'd have to do this 'blind.'
"Your tricks will not work on me!" she cried. "I was personally trained by the Dark Lord!"
But it did not matter. This was going to be a test of raw power and sheer skill. So? Tee still liked his odds. He wet his lips, stepping back to give himself a little room, circling Bellatrix. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl from earlier get the redheaded boy to his feet, instructing the other behind her as she did. Bill was still busy with Malfoy, and he caught a flash of Tonks' neon hair as she duelled a slight Death Eater.
Needless to say, it didn't seem to be going well.
"Now, let's see if your screams are as pretty as you are, shall we? Crucio!"
Tee threw himself to the side, breathing hard. If that had hit him, the fight would have been over instantly.
"Why the long face?" Bellatrix cooed, swaying slightly, eyes wide. "Never had an Unforgivable Curse cast on you, have you? Only school duels, with rules and restraints?"
Tee snarled and flicked his wand. The lone chair came to life, charging at Bellatrix like a bizarre horse. She danced away as it crashed harmlessly into the wall. But the distraction was enough.
"Diffindo!" A rough wipe of his wand, and the charm, blocked a little too late, made blood spurt on the side of her neck. It seemed to madden her even more, like a goaded bull.
"Even with rules and restraints," murmured Tee as she advanced towards him, "you can always get creative."
For some reason, Bellatrix stopped dead, her eyes widening even more. Her voice was cold as ice when she spoke, cold as Narcissa's, something he had not thought her capable of.
"Where did you hear that?"
Their fight had taken them down a hallway; the sounds of the others had grown faint. A jet of red light shot from her wand, and Tee met it with his own Stunning spell, lighting the hallway with a spray of crimson.
"Crucio!" she cried again, and this time it was too narrow in the hallway to dodge, too powerful to block or deflect, so, in a split-second decision, Tee cast the Imperius Curse, just as all his nerves lit on fire, a low, keening groan escaping him that he could not hold back. He writhed, his knees locking as he forced himself to stand, forced his depleting will into his own curse—
Now he had a foothold, even though the blinding pain climbed up his nerves, paralysing his muscles. The surface was no longer smooth. Her fury was a weakness, one he knew well.
You do not want to hurt me, he whispered inside her mind, even as he screamed in agony, knees hitting the ground as his legs buckled. You want to release the curse now.
His nerves prickled again but feebler, and the pain began to recede just as his hold on the Imperius snapped. Tee struggled back to his feet, breathing hard. It took a moment to realise that his leg still ached, with a dull, throbbing pain. It must be broken, he thought numbly, shifting his weight to his other leg.
Bellatrix was staring at him with a clouded confusion as if still trying to shake off the curse. She had lowered her wand.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that again," said Tee. He hoped his injury was hidden by his robes and his favouring of the leg by the darkness.
"No," she said, voice quivering. It seemed she was trying to convince herself more than him. "It cannot… It cannot be… the voice in my head… it was… it is…"
"Not used to losing?" asked Tee. He felt his face contort in pain as he tried to put weight on the leg, and hoped it didn't show in his voice. He didn't trust himself to set the bone properly in the dark and nonverbally, but he couldn't risk showing weakness by revealing his injury.
"…you… you spoke as the Dark Lord does. But My Lord would never have anything to do with someone like you," she said, her chest heaving up and down as if with exertion, eyes flicking over him from head to toe, studying him as much as she could in the dark. The tip of her wand flared with light, and she held it close to his face, her own very close to his. Tee jerked away. "Some filthy no-one—"
"—bastard boy, dirty orphan, filthy half-blood, Muggle foundling," Tee continued, with a mirthless smile. And then, in Parseltongue, "Didn't you know?"
She drew back as if she had been burnt.
"Liar!" shrieked Bellatrix, her face white and furious in the cold wandlight. "LIAR!" One of the sconces beside Tee smashed, spraying glass and smoke.
His leg throbbed and ached nauseatingly, his stomach fighting to keep its contents down. But Tee could ignore it for now, if he tried. He'd forgotten how enjoyable this was. Pushing someone to the edge. Watching them teeter on the cliff.
Letting out the quietest groan he could manage, pressing his lips together, as he moved his supporting right hand off the wall, Tee rolled up the sleeve of his robe and tilted the arm into the light to show the hated scars curving up the belly of his left forearm, carved long ago with a cursed knife in the darkness of the Slytherin dormitories. The words which he would never forget, his true introduction to the wizarding world: mudblood scum.
Bellatrix made a sound as if she had been wounded, her eyes blown wide, mouth trembling, wand shaking. Tee heard himself start to laugh, high and cold even to his own ears, losing lucidity as the throbbing ache from his leg started to overpower his consciousness. He only just realised the hallway was growing blacker and blacker, Bellatrix's face a blurry smear as she shouted something, before his hearing cut out and he was floating in the warm, black, painless void of sleep.
"My Lord, who is he?"
Ruby had just gotten ahold of her wand when Bellatrix and Tee appeared in the doorway, the former clutching the latter with her wand boring into his neck, ready to deliver the killing blow at any moment. Voldemort and Dumbledore had ceased their fight at the edge of the drop, the former's red eyes narrowing in confusion and rage, the latter clearing his throat and saying:
"If you will release my assistant—"
Is he… Confounded?
"—I would be most grateful."
If anything, Bellatrix only held him closer, her other arm against his chest with a crushing pressure. Her eyes flashed, but her ire was not for Dumbledore, but the man who stood behind him.
Does she know about the Horcruxes? Ruby wondered. Apparently not. But maybe she had just worked it out.
"My Lord, you will explain why this filthy whelp fights in your manner, with your—"
"Know your place!" snapped Voldemort, an unnatural shade of vermillion rising in his cheeks. Bellatrix shrunk back as if she had been slapped, the air hissing between her teeth. Voldemort's eyes were still locked on Tee, his expression glassy, almost covetous, before Dumbledore flicked his wand at the tiles between them, Voldemort leaping away with one flying step as they slid off the edge and down into the dark night below.
Why? thought Ruby. No one was paying her much attention. She got to her feet, backing towards the desk, as quietly as she could on the stone floor. Now they were outnumbered; Tee was no good to anyone right now, which meant it would be both Voldemort and Bellatrix against Dumbledore. Hiding her wand as she did, Ruby whispered, "Stupefy," but Bellatrix batted the red jet of light away easily, her eyes flashing with affront.
"You dare?" She threw her head back, laughing, and just then, a boom shook the whole room, sending her flying forward with a cry and losing hold of Tee, who, still only half-conscious, dropped like a stone. Another figure darkened the doorway, and Ruby could have cried with relief. She stumbled towards him, as his eyes flicked over her and then started scanning the room, from Bellatrix whirling on him, wand drawn, to Tee's crumpled form, to Dumbledore and Voldemort trading fire before the ruined wall.
"Sirius!" shouted Ruby, but he did not look at her again, too busy blocking the curse that Bellatrix sent towards him, deflecting it and splattering it against the far wall in a black scorch mark.
"Come for your godson?"
The words arced through Ruby like a knife blade as she remembered what— who she had come here for.
"Ruby," said Sirius through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off Bellatrix, "Go downstairs, get Harry, and run."
Now, the tears she had been holding back all day and night, hot and desperate, choked her throat. There was no use moving. She had failed. They had all failed. They were too late. It felt like something was missing from her, like her body had been ripped in two and half of it was just gone.
"Sirius," she began, her voice weak and shaky, her whole body trembling under the weight of this horrible thing that was too heavy to bear, her ears blurring the sounds of Voldemort and Dumbledore's fight into mere background noise. "H-Harry, he's—"
She did not need to finish her sentence. Sirius must have seen the horror in her eyes, the defeat in her posture, for it was all reflected in him. Ruby could not see Bellatrix's face as she threw her head back, laughing.
"Aaahhhh… did you love him, cousin?"
A shout of anger left Ruby as she pointed her wand at Bellatrix, her mind blank except for grief and fury, not knowing what spell it was or even caring, and Bellatrix flicked her wand at Ruby as if she were a mere afterthought in response. The stone floor shot into high spikes all around her, fencing her in as Bellatrix whirled out of the way of Sirius's curse, still laughing.
There was movement in the corner of her vision, to the left of the desk. Tee was stirring again, seeming unaware of the chaos around him. He took out his wand, face contorted, and pointed it at the leg he had been dragging behind him. A flash of white light emanated from it, and then he started to get to his feet, testing the injured leg. He looked past Sirius and Bellatrix as if they did not exist, eyes fixed on Voldemort like a speck of iron drawn towards a lodestone. Or like a Horcrux drawn towards the master, thought Ruby, her fingers curling against the bars. Which pull would be stronger? The Unbreakable Vow or the red thread of fate?
"Are you not tired of being his servant?" called Voldemort, just as another jet of green light arced through the air. "This is the scenario you have always coveted, Dumbledore, is it not?"
Ruby peered through the bars. Tee's eyes were locked on Voldemort with an impossible intensity, barely managing to stay upright on the injured leg, face drained of blood. It was as if half of him wanted to launch himself into Voldemort's body and become one again, like he might rip in two. Ruby felt sick at the notion.
"You are mistaken." Dumbledore deflected another Killing Curse with the slab of wall the last one had splintered off. "That is never what I wanted. I merely gave him the opportunity to make a choice."
"I know of your 'choices.'" asked Voldemort. His gaze flicked from Dumbledore to Tee, stepping out of the way of a stone spike with practised grace. "Is it true? Have you chosen him?"
Tee flinched, almost as Bellatrix had, his face stricken. His mouth trembled, as if caught between two answers. Go on, go with him, thought Ruby bitterly. You know you want to. Get this whole façade over with.
"I swore an Unbreakable Vow." Terse. Factual. "The terms were favourable."
It was Dumbledore who looked stricken now, his evasion of the next Killing Curse sloppier than usual. Ruby didn't know why he was surprised. So what? So what about nights staring up at the sky in knee-deep heather, so what about the Riddle House and the Cave and Godric's Hollow and the Dementors in the library in London? So what about Inferi in the junk shop? All he had ever done was repay debts. Every bit of good he had done had been utterly transactional. All he had ever thought about was trying to save his own neck. Perhaps not essentially evil — but he was truly, irredeemably selfish.
"What do you want?" Tee continued, hands clenched at his sides, face ashen in the cold light. "Mordred said I'd outlived my usefulness."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed as rubble rained down on his head. "I will find use for you. But first, I must kill Dumbledore." The next Killing Curse came within a hair's breadth. "Why do you not rush to his aid? Is your prized servant's loyalty lacking, Dumbledore?"
"He is wounded," said Dumbledore.
Voldemort let out a mirthless laugh. "Excuses! Admit it; lies shall not save you. You are losing on all fronts!"
And then, Ruby saw Sirius through the makeshift bars. His laughter mingled with Bellatrix's, a cruel, mocking, furious cacophony, like a murder of crows. A spray of red light sped past his cheek, and he threw his head back as she had done before, eyes glinting like polished metal with the reflections of Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, still laughing at her.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled.
And then it hit Ruby square, that horrible sense of déjà vu, of her dream on Christmas Eve, when the second red light hit Sirius between the ribs and he never moved again. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, to dilate and blur and warp. She saw him alive and she saw him dead, eyes staring up at the ceiling, that maddened look permanently fixed. No, Ruby whispered. It could not happen. She couldn't lose Harry and Sirius.
Sometimes, things are too cruel to bear. That must be fate.
The red light had begun to leave Bellatrix's wand; Ruby saw it impossibly slowly, before Sirius had even realised. This was it. The killing blow. Every hair on her body stood up, prickling all over with sheer terror. She flung her arm out past the bars, forced every bit of her will into the dragon heartstring, burning so hot in her hand that she feared she might drop it, and screamed, "IMPEDIMENTA!"
Ruby just saw a glimpse of Sirius's shocked expression before the spray of turquoise light launched him away from Bellatrix's curse, slamming harmlessly into the wall. She sucked in a breath, still shuddering all over.
So that was her answer. Her veins throbbed with power. It was possible. Fate could be changed. Then it dawned on her. Changed, yes. Not reversed. Harry could not be—
Sirius and Bellatrix were duelling again, with renewed intensity. Ruby could barely the exchanges from beyond her stone prison, the air smelling of fireworks and ozone. To her right, Voldemort had gained on Dumbledore again, driving him back from the edge as he turned the spray of flame Dumbledore sent at him into a towering, hissing snake made of fire, melting the stone below.
"You shall not thwart me this time, Dumbledore," called Voldemort, even as water splashed against his fiery creation, dissipating it. Yet another Killing Curse streaked from his wand. "The Boy-Who-Lived is no more. My Death Eaters outnumber your little 'army.' Accept your fate."
Ruby's head snapped back around as she heard a shout. A stray spell from either Bellatrix or Sirius— she did not know who — ricocheted across the room, sending tiles flying from the fireplace. One knocked into a bottle standing on Voldemort's desk; it fell and splintered on the stone floor with a loud crash, sprinkling hundreds of glass shards. Bellatrix let out a shriek of terror, and Ruby saw black, oleaginous smoke curling from the shards, condensing into a tempest, an unholy thing of destruction, screaming and howling. And yet, it filled her with consummate joy. She knew Voldemort had lied, lied to her, lied to them all, for Harry was, in fact, alive. Terribly changed; she had never wanted to see the Obscurus again, none of them did, it was the reason Tee was here after all, but it did not matter. He lived!
Sirius turned towards the Obscurus too, gaping. He had never seen Harry like that; she remembered now that he had only been told, and words did not, could not encompass this being. Sticky tendrils of oily storm ripped up the bars of her makeshift prison, turning them over and over like a small tornado, the stone tiles flying off the wall, sucked into the whirlpool. Bellatrix scrambled out of the way.
"Harry!" she shouted, trying to get his attention, but the dark thing barrelled past her, picking up speed, louder than her voice could hope to carry over. "Harry!"
Someone pulled her to her feet, and she looked to see Sirius beside her, his face white with terror. "We have to go. Now."
But Ruby could only stare as the Obscurus lurched towards Voldemort, unleashing a piercing scream, neither human nor beast. Even from here, she felt its raw power, sheer capacity for destruction, far greater than it had been four years ago.
"Master!" cried Bellatrix, and Ruby was not sure if she was frightened for herself or for him. The Obscurus ripped more tiles into the swirling tempest, another chunk of wall snapping away and sliding to the ground below with a sickening crack. On the other side of her, Tee had drawn his wand, facing the black storm with a look of apprehension.
The whole room shook; only Voldemort and Dumbledore still seemed unaware, locked in the focus of their duel even as the Obscurus snuffed out every light. Suddenly, a loud, keening groan started up, the floor shuddering between her feet.
"Now!" shouted Sirius, and this time he didn't hesitate, shoving her towards the open doorway. Ruby stumbled into the frame, catching herself by her hands. It was hard to hear anything over the sounds of the Obscurus and the foundations cracking. It swirled around Voldemort, howling in pain as a life-sized dragon made of pure flame opened its maw and breathed.
"Harry!" she screamed, and Sirius dragged her out of the door, steering her down the stairs with a firm hand. Her heart started a harsh, terrifying staccato on her lungs, and she reached back, grabbing and tearing at anything she could find. She had to get back to him. She had to. She could calm him down. She had done it before. Harry was alive and she wasn't leaving here without him. "We have to go back, we have to get him!"
"We can't," said Sirius, holding her still. The half-mad look from his duel with Bellatrix still lingered on his face. "We can't go back. We can't save him, Ruby. I'm sorry. I'm—"
"You're not sorry!" Her foot battered his shin over and over again, squirming to get free. "You're not sorry, because he's not dead! He's fine, I can—"
Someone else emerged from the doorway, limping; Tee stood on the landing, glancing back with a look of torn longing after Dumbledore and Voldemort before turning towards them. Sirius's hands were still firm on her shoulders to keep her from running back up the stairs, and Ruby shuddered. It sounded quiet in there now. Maybe he'd stopped. Maybe he'd calmed down.
She sucked in a hiccuping breath, and then saw black, oily tendrils curling around the doorframe.
"See, he's coming," she said. "He heard me call him. He understands me Sirius, he heard—"
"Go!"
Now she couldn't turn back; both Sirius and Tee were behind her, and the whole upper floor started to give way, a deep crack forming along the landing as the groan turned into a whine. And the Obscurus followed them, creeping along the walls more like a shadow than a tempest. Ruby's heart still beat fast in her chest as she held onto her wand as firmly as she could in her clammy fingers, and the sounds of fighting came into focus. They rounded a corner, the Obscurus curving along it too, spreading through the house like undead vines as they emerged into a room in utter chaos. Bellatrix had somehow joined the fight here, and she duelled both Bill and Tonks with ease. A stray curse shot past Ruby, knocking a marble statue off its plinth as Sirius shouted something at Tee, then rushed in to help Lupin with a pair of Death Eaters while Kingsley and Moody fought the Malfoys.
"Clear this way, there's a guard but we Stunned him!" someone yelled, and Ruby turned to see Hermione hurrying down a different corridor into the room. She stopped, noticing Sirius among the combatants and drawing closer to Ruby and Tee. "Where's Harry?"
She said nothing, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "Where's Ron and Anthony?"
"Here!" Anthony had come up on the other side; there was a purplish bruise on his cheek. "We hid Ron up there, he can't walk and his wand's broken. Did you get Harry?"
They still hadn't noticed the Obscurus coating the walls in the darkness, illuminated only by the flashbang of curses and counter-curses, or the steady rumble of cracking masonry, or the fear and rage permeating the air.
"He—"
Just then, Bellatrix made an arcane gesture; Tonks leapt forward to counter it, but not all of the curse was attenuated by her Shield Charm, and Bill slumped to the ground. All of a sudden, the Obscurus was every darkness in the room, sweeping one of the Death Eaters up into the black vortex, and he screamed and screamed until his voice became one with the Obscurus's howling rage. The battle had stopped, people scattering, and Ruby saw a flash of white hair as the Malfoys disappeared around the corner and dust rained from the ceiling. Tee pushed her towards the corridor Hermione had emerged from, fear in his eyes as the monster bore down.
"Harry!" she shouted again, and Hermione and Anthony stopped dead, their eyes widening in recognition finally.
"Harry?"
"That's not Harry," said Tee, his voice wholly devoid of empathy. It was as if he'd kicked her in the gut. "Not anymore."
"Don't you dare say that!" Ruby screamed, and every snuffed-out sconce along the hallway sparked with flame. "He's in there! Get off me! Let go!"
"Ruby," said Hermione tremulously, gazing back at the Obscurus in fear as the support beams of the room they'd just left began to give and the Order started to squeeze through the narrowing gap. "That time back in first year… you could see his eyes. They're… they're gone."
She stopped struggling in Tee's grip, staring over his shoulder at the Obscurus. And Hermione was right. She couldn't see the burning green eyes. It was a storm without feature, the last vestiges of humanity gone, a being of only rage and destruction.
The thought wedged between her ribs like a dull dagger and she groaned, sagging in Tee's arms, the fight leaving her.
"I can't feel his mind," said Tee, to add insult to injury. "He's gone. All we can do is contain him— it."
Ruby turned back as Tee finally released her. Hermione and Anthony were helping Ron out of the corridor, and Moody was conducting a headcount as more black tendrils snaked down the walls, stone cracking as they went. Bill was still unconscious. She stumbled along, her feet leaden and heart heavy as they emerged into the chill of the night. A few Order members had already gathered outside, backing away to a safe distance. Moody turned towards the manor and drew his wand, shouting "Get behind!"
Brick and wood rained down as Malfoy Manor burst from the inside out, destroying the tranquil garden and shattering the fountain as a flock of white peacocks took flight in a cloud of debris. Head-sized chunks of rock bounced off Moody's Shield Charm. Across the lawn, she saw two flickers of movement: the Death Eaters sprinting away into the grounds, and towards the left, Voldemort and Dumbledore were still fighting, oblivious to the rest of the chaos.
"Get clear of the wards and Apparate," said Moody, his magical eye swinging over the small, clinging crowd. "We don't want to be compromised, so everyone, to your assigned point before you go to Headquarters. Make sure you're not followed. Side-Along the kids and Bill."
"Now!"
People were already disappearing, pops resounding all around her. Kingsley grabbed Ron before he could protest, and she saw Tonks do the same with Hermione. Sirius reached for her hand as she stared at the cloud of destruction, the remnants of the manor tossed and within it, but she slapped it away.
"This must be his final transformation. He's almost sixteen," said Moody, his voice almost as devoid of emotion as Tee's had been. "Go with Sirius. I'll try to do some containment—"
"Shut up!" snapped Ruby, her hands balling into fists, eyes stinging with hot tears. "SHUT UP! You're the one who wanted to wait to find him, if you'd come when we realised he was missing he probably wouldn't be like this!"
Moody's scarred face twisted with a hurt she hadn't thought him capable of, but she didn't care. Ruby whirled around, looking for someone to join her, to agree, but only Sirius, Moody, Lupin, and Tee remained.
"Don't you get it? He's not a monster! He's not!"
Sirius reached for her again, but she broke free of his grip, sprinting towards the Obscurus, dodging the debris as it splintered towards her.
"No! Stop!"
A red light streaked past, and she froze.
"I'm sorry!" shouted Lupin, his wand still pointed at her, the storm tearing his voice. "I have to do this! We can't let you—"
Ruby drew her wand, deflecting the next Stunner. No one was going to stop her from doing this. No one could. The flying debris formed a shield as she moved deeper into the storm. If anyone was following her, it didn't matter. She was past the event horizon, black wind surrounding her on every side. Ruby drew the salamander glass even as the Obscurus bellowed, ignorant of her existence, and felt fear for the first time.
"Lux."
The straif etched along the gold frame glowed white, a flame popping to life above her cupped hand and the smell of sulphur filling her nose. The storm changed directions, rushing towards her, blowing and huffing and puffing, trying to snuff out the fire. Every last bit of logic and instinct told her that this was a monster who did not know her; this was not Harry. But some other part, delusional, perhaps, told her that if she believed in his survival, so could he. The flames burned brighter and brighter as she poured all her will into them, her hair and clothes snapping in the howling wind, deafened by the storm until she had nothing left to give, and they snuffed out. Her voice had been torn away, and when she opened her mouth to reactivate the runes, no sound came out.
Ruby let the salamander glass fall back with its chain, swinging in the wind. She made no move to the blackthorn wand in her pocket, burning against her side.
If there was none of Harry in there… if his shadow had truly swallowed him whole… then there was no point in fighting it any longer. Then she wanted to be consumed by it, wanted to be one with the storm. Her hands reached towards it, the osculum divinitatis marks burning red and bright, like the glow of a lighthouse. Maybe they were meant to die as they were born, together, cast into the sky for all eternity like Castor and Pollux.
The shadow finally consumed her, choking her veins in agony, and her skin burned with searing heat, prickling with static, and webbed strands of light shot through the storm like St. Elmo's fire, like she was nothing more but the path of least resistance for all this power to flow through. It was too much, too great for her to sustain, like the vision Mordred had forced her to scry had been. Too much for her human limitations, too much for any mortal. It would burn her alive, turn her to dust. It would shatter her, mind, body, and soul. She would blaze and burn out like a fuse.
She could not bear it anymore. Everything pulled tight, threatening to burst her apart into mere particles.
And then, the shadows snapped away into the lightening sky as the rays pierced them, shattering like stone, and Harry stood before her in the crater of destruction, swaying on his feet, eyes over-bright and glassy, while remnants of shadow billowed around his eyes, burning with light like a martyred saint as the sun burst over the horizon. He took one tottering step forward, shaking violently, and she just managed to catch him before he slumped over in her arms and her knees collapsed.
The grounds were eerily quiet around her now without the howls of the Obscurus.
"Is he—"
Ruby jumped at the sound of Sirius's voice; he was standing behind her in the rubble of what must have been the drawing-room, the pipe organ lying around his feet in shining metal shards. Lupin was picking his way through the ruins as well, black smoke curling around the shattered stone. Moody had disappeared. Surprisingly, Tee was still here, but he'd stayed a safe distance away.
She looked back at Harry as Sirius crouched down beside them, and the sky burned with swathes of pink and gold, casting long, slanting morning shadows.
"I think he's sleeping."
Harry slept like the living dead, his hands folded over his chest, which gently rose and fell. People came in and out of the room all day, bringing water and comforting words. Madam Pomfrey even appeared at one point, pronouncing him 'perfectly healthy aside from a light fever' but instructing them to let him wake up on his own time. She'd been more concerned about Bill, who'd been whisked away to St. Mungo's.
"You're still in here."
Ruby tensed, but she did not turn. The cracked surface of Harry's watch on the side table read 1:12 AM, the sky outside heavy and dark, lit only by the sickly yellow streetlamps.
"Where else would I be?"
She heard Tee shut the door behind him, and with a few quick strides, he was beside her. He was no longer limping after Madam Pomfrey had re-set his leg and fixed the bone again, muttering under her breath that he'd done a complete botched job on it. So that was the one thing Tom Riddle wasn't good at. Healing magic.
It made sense, funnily enough.
Tearing her eyes from Harry for the first time in a few hours, Ruby looked up at Tee. His throat worked as if in great discomfort, and for an instant, she felt Voldemort holding her by the hair, just like Mordred, the thread of her life seconds from being snapped. But his eyes were not silver-white or livid red, but dark and earthen.
"What do you want?"
"I wanted to see if you were alright."
She laughed, short and bitter, turning to Harry again, who had, of course, not moved an inch. Still, she smoothed the covers. The image of his face in Malfoy Manor before they fled the top room was fixed in her mind, the longing gaze which Tee cast upon Voldemort, his few, cold words, his unwillingness to do anything but save himself. "Yeah, that Unbreakable Vow again…"
"Maybe." A scrape against the wooden floor; he was pulling out the chair next to her. "You think I want to betray you."
Ruby tensed. Dumbledore was a Legilimens, too, but he didn't go around poking his nose into everyone's anxieties, and if he did, at least he had the decency to keep it to himself.
"Don't you?" she asked, annoyed. "Don't you… do you feel he's you?"
Tee's head turned towards her again. Ruby did not like this. She did not like it one bit. It reminded her too much of the year between the Chamber and the Siege, of a false allegiance built on ignorance, the need for survival, and obscuring the horrible truth.
"Would you recognise someone you hadn't seen in fifty years? Besides, I'm a man of honour. I gave my word."
You chose life over death, that's all, thought Ruby. You'll always pick the winning side.
"You're nineteen."
"Am I?" asked Tee, putting his hands in his pockets and glancing at the open window; Hedwig had just flown in. "Sometimes I can't tell anymore." This time, he did not look at her as he spoke, his mouth twisting in a strange, resentful, childish shape.
Her mouth stung with bile; her nails dug into the plush, moth-eaten fabric of the armchair. Suddenly, the necklace tucked under her shirt felt very heavy, with her mother's false Time-Turner and Tom Riddle Senior's ring weighing down the chain. A hot flash of hate came over her. Of course. He'd fulfilled the terms and conditions of his life debt to her. There was nothing compelling him not to turn on them but Dumbledore's Unbreakable Vow.
Ruby did not care if he could hear her thoughts. She hoped he did, and she hoped he felt hurt, if he were even capable of such a thing. She wanted to change the conversation; she didn't want to speak about this. It was making her angry. When would Harry wake up?
"You were right," said Ruby, because she knew it would distract him for the time being.
"I know." He paused. "About what?"
"I'm not… what was it? A mirror on which to inscribe an inevitable future?" Despite herself, and the irritation his mere presence caused her, she continued. "I Saw Sirius die. I knew how it would happen. So I was able to prevent it."
It seemed absurd now, saying it out loud.
Tee opened his mouth again.
"Don't say I told you so!"
"I don't have to."
"So." Ruby brushed the hair off Harry's forehead. The compress was warm, so she dipped it back in the cool water, rivulets streaming down her fingers as she wrung it. All the while she was aware of Tee's eyes on her. "So…"
It felt like disturbing sacred ground, to even speak it. "Do you think what Mordred made me scry might not come true either? What about Harry's prophecy?"
His response came quickly, as if he'd already been thinking about it, as if it were nothing more than an academic concern. "An object in motion remains in motion; I don't think you can do anything about Harry's… What Mordred made you scry, though…" His gaze grew piercing again, sending prickles of ice down her spine. "That depends, doesn't it?"
Clear as mud, just like I expected. Ruby sighed, replacing the compress on Harry's forehead. This — Tee — he was her problem, her creation, even, in a way. And now, with the Obscurus back, more powerful than before, it seemed her Faustian bargain had only bought three years' worth of extra time before the clock started again.
"I'm going to tell Harry," she said. He would wake up, and she would tell him. He had to.
"If that's what you think is best," said Tee. He got up from the chair and disappeared as quickly as he had come.
He was probably annoyed about not being first in line. Ruby leaned back in her chair as Hephaestus leapt from the floor into her lap, curling into a warm, soft circle.
Prick.
Before he woke, Harry heard voices. He could not make out words, but they murmured around him, comforting and familiar. His heavy eyelids lifted to meet the dark ceiling above him. His limbs felt leaden, as if he had been sleeping for ages.
This isn't the Gryffindor dormitory…
He got the distinct feeling it wasn't Monday morning, either.
Where was he? What had happened?
"You're awake!"
All of a sudden, arms were flung around his shoulders, a tear-wet face at the crook of his neck.
"I love you!"
Confused, Harry reached up to the person's shoulders, pushing them back a little and into focus. It was Ruby, mopping her face with the backs of her hands and smiling, and he knew where he was: safe in his room at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Yeah, I love you too…" Harry trailed off.
"I was just… I just thought of all the mean things I've ever said to you and how I never tell you— Harry, I thought you were dead. Voldemort… he…"
Everything that had happened started to come back to him, and his stomach turned in horror. The apparition of his mother. His imprisonment in Malfoy Manor. Voldemort advancing on him — "What I want is to see the light leave your eyes!" — a blur of rage and fear and the sheer will to live — and the Obscurus loosing its chains.
"Did—" A lump formed in Harry's throat "—did I hurt anyone?"
Ruby's mouth pressed into a thin line, her eyes wide as she shook her head, still looking at him as if she could scarcely believe he was real. Then, a figure peeled away from the curtained window, forming out of the glare of morning light. Riddle.
Harry swallowed tensely and willed himself not to say anything as Riddle crossed the room, sitting at the foot of the bed. His eyes roamed over Harry too, with a cold interest.
"Well, that's not entirely true, is it?"
Ruby glared at him, but he brushed it off.
"It was only some Death Eater who got in our way when we were escaping."
Both monsters. Both feared. Harry's mouth tasted like bile. He still didn't feel real, like part of him had died in the topmost room of Malfoy Manor. Ruby's hand was curled around his, but he only half-felt the pressure of her fingers. He glanced down at his arm. It felt and looked solid enough.
Maybe if he got up and acted like things were normal, he would.
"Right— er—could I just go and get changed?" He was still wearing the pyjamas from that night, after all, now covered in a layer of dust and dirt.
Strangely, Ruby and Riddle exchanged a look across him. Harry's stomach turned.
"Yeah— of course—" Ruby squeezed his hand. "I want to tell you something though, after." She swallowed, her gaze growing intense. "I want to tell you what Mordred made me scry last year."
Harry started. Really? He'd finally accepted that he was never going to know, and now he was not so sure he wanted to anymore. Still, he felt he ought to hear it. He nodded, squeezed her hand back, and tried to smile.
They both got up, Riddle holding the door open for Ruby and fixing Harry with a lingering gaze, as if he wanted to say something, before leaving, too. Harry swung his feet down to the floor and ran a hand through his hair, working his fingers through the knots. It felt like his skin didn't fit right over his bones. He rested his arms on his legs, bowing his head, trying to ground himself.
So, here he was again. Square one. Everything had been for nothing.
Grabbing his glasses and his wand off the nightstand, he went out into the quiet hall, nearly stepping on Hephaestus.
"Same to you, too," he muttered, as the cat hissed at him. Luckily, the bathroom was empty, so he locked the door behind him and switched on the hot tap. The sound of rushing water didn't do much to drown out his dark thoughts, or the guilt he felt over losing control. Master your temper, temper your fear. He'd well and truly failed at both.
Harry straightened up and caught his reflection in the mirror. He was taller than he'd expected. Not a sickly, crazed child anymore, perhaps, but maybe something worse. Despite his long sleep, the hollows under his eyes were dark and his sclera red, making his eyes look even more glassy. There was a scrape on his jaw, an inch of dark red crust. He pushed the heavy fringe back from his forehead, and the scar, once the only thing he'd liked about his appearance, stood out stark against his sweaty skin, as if newly healed. Harry ran a finger over it, and it didn't pain him like it had before, but it felt sore. Hand shaking, he let his hair fall back, meeting his reflection's eyes.
You're stronger now, but at what cost? He shut his eyes against the memory, but the Obscurus's words still replayed in his head. As your magic, your power, your strength has grown, so have I. I loosed my chains. I broke free. I alone can protect you!
He had known it might be for the last time; he just hadn't cared at that moment. All he'd wanted was to destroy Voldemort.
"What I want is to see the light leave your eyes!"
He'd been pushed to his breaking point and beyond, until the only thing in his mind was total destruction, whatever the cost. The supernatural rage that had flooded him; was it his own?
He must face the truth. He must face his fate. He could delay it, apparently, but not escape it.
"I'm an Obscurial," he whispered, eyes flicking open again. Even the mirror seemed to quake, its surface warping like water.
Did that mean… was his magic…
He couldn't bear to know, but at the same time, he must. Harry pointed his wand at the toothbrush lying on the side of the basin and said, "Wingardium Leviosa." It rose a few feet into the air, and Harry felt himself relax. So, not everything was gone from him. Yet. Would it be as devastating as last time? Would it still consume him?
Oops. He'd left the tap running too long.
A little while later, the scrape healed, clean, hair combed as much as he could manage it, and in fresh clothes, he looked and felt slightly more human. The bathroom door rattled when he closed it; it didn't fit properly on its hinges, and Harry realised he had forgotten socks, his feet leaving a damp trail on the old carpeting in the hallway. He considered the prints left behind him, just visible in the light of the flickering gas lamps.
A hand landed on his shoulder, and Harry flinched.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"
He turned. It was Sirius, face etched with concern, giving him that same could-scarcely-believe-he-was-real look Ruby had, and Harry felt a strange mix of relief and resentment.
"It's fine," said Harry. Sirius patted his elbow and started to reach towards his shoulder to pull him into a hug, but then the arm receded, as if he was afraid of setting something off.
Harry's stomach turned. He didn't know if he could do this all over again.
"I'm not made of glass, Sirius."
It did feel like it, though. He was slightly light-headed, and his flesh didn't feel right. When Sirius did hug him, the sense of not-rightness only intensified.
"We thought we lost you," said Sirius, and Harry could tell he was struggling to stay composed. "Well, except Ruby. Once she saw the Obscurus, she couldn't be convinced you weren't in there."
He smiled, and Harry found himself looking away. He was beginning to remember that part, too. He—the Obscurus—both of them had tried to consume her like she was just another piece of debris, destroy her from the inside out, until the fire had only burned brighter and all of a sudden, he'd realised who she was and who he was and what he was doing. He felt revolted with himself. What if he'd killed her? He'd come so close to it, in the mindless destruction—
Sirius slipped an arm around his shoulders, gently guiding him down the hallway.
"It's my fault," said Harry bitterly. "I was stupid enough to follow that apparition of Mum."
He kept walking forward and then realised Sirius had stopped. His expression had gone from concern to horror.
"Harry — come again, please?"
Harry swallowed tensely, curling his fingers against his palm. How could I have been so stupid?
"I — I saw Mum that night. She was right in front of me, and every time I got close, she'd walk faster. It was like she was teasing me, getting me to chase her. And I've wanted to talk to her for so long, there's so much I need to ask her." There was a lump in his throat that would not go, no matter how many times he swallowed. Sirius listened in silence, the air around them seeming mustier than usual. "I shouldn't have followed her all the way to Hogsmeade, but I did and that's where they grabbed me. Next thing I knew, I was in Malfoy Manor."
Harry sincerely hoped Sirius wouldn't ask him to fill in the rest. This had already taken more out of him than was reasonable. Sirius was still silent, his gaze unreadable. Was he ashamed of him? It was true, he shouldn't've fallen for it.
"Remus said you told him Voldemort shows you things sometimes."
Harry splayed his fingers against the wall. Powdery green paint flaked off on his fingertips, gritty when he curled them against his palm again.
"So it follows," said Sirius, "that you might show Voldemort things sometimes. That he knew what you wanted so desperately, and when he got the chance, he exploited it. It's what he did when he was Quirrell, it's what he does to his enemies, Harry. It is not your fault that you were lured there."
Both his hands rested on the sides of Harry's arms, anchoring him to the floor, eyes gazing through him. This time, he could not look away. A tremor rose up in him, and he shook as if he were cold, overcome, the guilt choking him, his throat so tight he could barely breathe.
"I want you to listen to me really carefully, Harry," said Sirius, pausing. Finding himself mute, Harry forced himself to nod.
"You are not responsible for what happened last night. You are not a bad person."
Somehow, it did not feel like absolution.
Sirius glanced to the side, and Harry turned in that direction. Ruby had rounded the corner, and Hephaestus was in her arms. Some silent communication seemed to pass between her and Sirius before she turned to Harry.
"Can we… is this a good time?"
The second prophecy, whatever it was. Harry's stomach turned. If Ruby's response to him asking all year had been snapping that she didn't want to talk about it, then it couldn't be anything good. Still, a promise was a promise and after what happened, he owed her, to say the least.
"Yeah," he said, trying not to frown.
"Why don't you two go sit in the library?" asked Sirius, straining to keep his voice light. "I'm going to go make some tea."
Harry nodded stiffly before heading for the stairs. Now, Ruby was strangely silent, as if not sure what to say.
"Hedwig knew I was here?"
It seemed like a relatively safe thing to ask.
"Yeah, she's really smart, isn't she? And Hagrid brought Hephaestus when he dropped in. A few people are sleeping over—" Ruby gestured at the dark planes of the doors flanking the hallway, glossy in the lamplight "—but we thought you might want to wake up properly and eat something first."
In case something happens again, thought Harry, his mouth tasting sour as his feet left the last step. The library doors had been propped open, and a light, cool breeze blew from an open window. Lights flickered on as they went inside, casting a soft glow on the gloomy bookshelves. Ruby flopped down in their usual armchair, and despite his misgivings, Harry realised doing anything but the usual would create cause for concern and sat down next to her. He kept looking down at his arms. Perfectly solid. Not a hint of shadow.
Hephaestus stood up and stalked from Ruby's lap to Harry's, settling down again and purring like a broken radiator. Absentmindedly, Harry rested a hand on the cat's head, scratching between his ears. The purring sounded more like an old lawn mower, now. Well, at least he doesn't know the difference.
Just then, Sirius entered with a tray and Harry was grateful for the excuse that Hephaestus had made himself comfortable not to move, even though there was a slice of treacle tart on the tray. The smell of it made him feel sick.
"So it's only Tuesday," said Harry. It felt like too much had happened to fit into such a short timespan. He looked up at Sirius, who was swirling a vortex into his tea.
"Well— Wednesday now, it's past twelve."
This wasn't supposed to have happened. It was O.W.L. week. Somehow, he didn't have the capacity to think about that right now, either.
"Do you want me to tell you now?" asked Ruby. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder and it took a great deal of effort not to move away.
"Might as well get it over with." Harry ran a hand over Hephaestus's purring form again, trying to calm his heartbeat.
Ruby set her cup of tea down on the table, and then turned to him, her eyes studying his face. It was as if she was trying to assess whether or not he could handle the truth.
"Just tell me!"
"Alright," she said, red-rimmed eyes still searching him. Her hands were ungloved, though, as they rarely were these days, stained palms on full display. "Here— it's —" Her voice deepened into that low, smoky register that Professor Trelawney often tried to imitate, but the genuine version seemed far less silly. "The shadows douse, but yet the fire burns. But Death shall not be satisfied until he has crossed his waters. Bound by mother's blood, he and Death walk side by side. Should it come, the end of the eldest at the hands of his brother will be his pride."
Sirius had leaned forward, listening intently. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know," said Ruby, slumping back in the chair. "Mordred asked how it would end — for Voldemort, I think. But I don't know for certain if the 'he' is Voldemort or Harry, and neither of them have a brother."
"Maybe it's figurative."
"Maybe it's gibberish."
Harry turned the words over in his head, inspecting the feel of them. Thankfully, they did not speak of the prophecy any more than that. By the time light began leaking through the windows, he'd somehow managed to eat the slice of treacle tart, dozed off, and woken up again. And Hephaestus was gone.
They made their way downstairs into the drawing-room, where every seat was filled, and they all turned to stare at him, calling his name. He had the fleeting impulse to shut the door and go back upstairs. Harry looked around the room; they were all there. Hermione, Anthony, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Mafalda, even Riddle. Something else came back to him.
"Where's Dumbledore? He was fighting Voldemort, and…"
"He's perfectly fine, Potter," said Moody in an almost rebuking tone. "In fact, he's due on in two minutes."
"Due on what?" asked Harry, but Hermione patted the seat next to her impatiently. As he sat down, he noticed an ancient radio perched on the coffee table playing the crooning strains of a Celestina Warbeck song. He looked around around again. Ron was suspiciously absent.
"Where's—"
"Ron's fine, he's with Bill at St. Mungo's," said Anthony, and Hermione rounded on him.
"We agreed we weren't going to tell him!"
Anthony shrank back, looking chastised, and the next breath caught in Harry's throat. "Tell me what?"
For a minute, he wasn't sure if they would, but then, Hermione said: "It wasn't you, Harry, Bill got cursed by Bellatrix and they've put him in a coma until they can figure out what to do."
It was my fault, thought Harry. Because if I didn't walk into a trap, he wouldn't have been there in the first place.
Celestina Warbeck cut out mid-note with a sharp crackle.
"I apologise for the interruption."
Harry sat up straight. The radio was fuzzy, but it was unmistakably Dumbledore's voice coming out.
"By now, many of you have received a certain notice from the Ministry. The rest of you more likely than not know someone who has, or will."
Harry's eyes could not help but be drawn to Hermione. She was sitting very upright, her hands still in her lap, and her face betrayed no emotion.
"For a decade, our world was at peace." Dumbledore paused. "And then, though we are loath to admit it in polite company, Voldemort returned and took quiet control of our Ministry. We have closed our eyes against the silent war, our international friends included, and we have quietly allowed him to win. Perhaps not surprising. We have suffered onslaught after onslaught. Countless lives were lost to Dementor attacks. But in the midst of fear, we must not lose our nerve."
He felt the shadow burn inside him. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Riddle lean forward, as if transfixed.
"As for Section One, you know my stance. Protection will always be given at Hogwarts to those who need it. But we cannot be an island. We need your help. When Section Two is put into motion, Muggle-borns will be cast out, imprisoned, and murdered. Stand by and do nothing, by all means. Aid and abet this process. But at the end of it, mark my words. Blood will be on your hands, too. If you cannot see the chessmaster in all of this—"
The radio crackled again, and the Celestina Warbeck song continued to play as if the interruption had never happened. They sat for a moment in stunned silence.
"They cut him off!" said Tonks indignantly, crossing her arms.
Moody tilted his head. "I thought he had a good run. Was sure they'd cut him off sooner."
For his part, Harry was still trying to wrap his head around it all. Would a few words really do anything to help matters?
"Are you alright?" Harry asked Hermione, realised he hadn't. He'd been so consumed by his own problems.
"Yeah, just…" She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. "Trying not to think about anything too much."
People were already leaving, Mafalda's bright hair disappearing around the doorway as she muttered something about what Narcissa was going to say.
"Time to go," said Lupin, standing up and crossing the room, too, Ruby trailing behind him. "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to hail the Knight Bus."
Harry's mind blanked for a second. "Why? Are we going somewhere?"
"You're all going to go back and finish your O.W.L.s," said Sirius, standing up. "Professor McGonagall says the Board was not pleased, to say the least, but nevertheless, arrangements have been made."
For the first time today, Hermione seemed to perk up a little. Anthony was shaking hands with Sirius and saying, "It was nice to meet you — meet you again, I mean, Professor Gloucester— Black—"
"Sirius is fine."
Lupin smiled, starting to usher everyone out into the hallway. "I expect stellar performance from each of you."
"Yeah, after a couple of Death Eaters, what's a practical exam?" said Sirius, patting Harry on the shoulder.
And despite himself, despite everything, Harry laughed.
"See you next week, Sirius!" Ruby called from the hallway. Now, he and Sirius were the only ones left. For some reason, Harry could not find it in himself to move from where he stood.
"What if…" He didn't finish the sentence, because he didn't quite know how to identify the nebulous fear that had taken up residence between his lungs.
"I can't say everything will be fine," said Sirius, his hand still resting on Harry's shoulder as he turned to face the open door. "But if I had to bet on anyone in an impossible situation, I'd bet on you."
The pressure in his ribs did not dissipate. He knew it wouldn't. But it felt somehow lighter as his feet finally carried him out of the drawing-room, and he turned at the doorway to look back at Sirius, who nodded at him, before following the sound of voices into the hallway and pushing open the front door. Outside, the sun was shining…
A/N:
For some reason, I was operating under the delusion that I was going to be able to finish Year Five in 2024, but I think I came close enough. I am pretty much done with my chapter-by-chapter outline for Year Six (It feels crazy to say that we're that far into the story) but I think I need to take a little bit of a break from writing for at least a couple of weeks. Let's tentatively say I'll be back in March, as that should give me time to build up a good-sized backlog (she says, knowing full well she will quickly deplete said backlog). In the meantime, I look forward to reading all the fics I have saved/bookmarked. Also, I'm on Tumblr at sk1fanfiction so feel free to come say hi!
And last but not least, thank you so much for reading! It really means a lot to me that you've stuck around this long 💚
See you soon!