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FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 34 of 37
Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 34 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~8,630
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thought
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2), Phoenix Reborn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Summary: Alliances shift as a heated battle ensues on the Hogwarts grounds between the Death Eaters and the Order.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33
***
Meanwhile, Thaddeus was dragging his son towards Voldemort, who was holding a red dagger in one hand. "Please, please, Father, don't do this, please," Theodore begged.
"I'm not happy about giving up my only heir, as worthless as you are," Thaddeus growled. "But it's you or me."
"Mother!" Theodore cried desperately, knowing it wouldn't do any good. "Mother, please help me!" But Marta only stood there shaking in terror, tears running down her face.
Lupin saw this, and felt the change come over him. If a werewolf was faced with sufficient danger--or, if his loved ones were, apparently--he would change involuntarily, even if the moon wasn't full. A brown wolf rushed forward, leapt up, and his jaws snapped shut around Thaddeus Nott's arm with a loud crunching sound--the sound of bones breaking. Thaddeus screamed, releasing his son. Snape grabbed Theodore, who was still suffering from the residual effects of the Imperius Curse, and dragged him away to relative safety.
Lupin released Thaddeus and slowly backed away, growling. He was not taking the Wolfsbane Potion at present, since the moon was not full yet, so his mind was not entirely human, but somehow it was not entirely animal, either. Perhaps it was because he had been taking the potion regularly for four years now, or maybe it was because he had changed to protect someone dear to him, but whatever the reason, he was sane enough to not want to kill. Some small part of him, although he was not consciously aware of it right now, did not want to kill Thaddeus because it would cause Theodore pain, no matter how much he hated his father.
Thaddeus had no such compunctions. He raised his wand with his good arm; Lupin tensed and crouched down, preparing to spring. Then Thaddeus cried out in pain and stared down dumbly at the length of steel emerging from his chest, wondering where it had come from. Karasu pulled his sword out of the Death Eater's body and Thaddeus toppled to the ground, dead.
"Don't be so soft next time, Lupin," Karasu scolded. "It could get you killed." Lupin barked, wagged his tail, and jumped up and licked the tengu's face in thanks. "Argh!" Karasu exclaimed, wiping his face and flushing with embarrassment. "Don't do that, you stupid dog!" Lupin barked again, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and ran back onto the battlefield.
Voldemort, denied his sacrifice, grabbed Marta instead and stabbed her with his dagger. Her scream caused Theodore to look back.
"Mother!"
"It's too late!" Snape said, dragging him along. "There's nothing you can do!" Theodore did not protest, but followed numbly as Voldemort stole his mother's life-force, then cast aside her body as carelessly as a child might toss aside a candy wrapper. Then Theodore forgot about her for the time being when he saw Serafina and Blaise confronting Andreas Avery.
"Time to start behaving like a Death Eater," Andreas said; he had not yet noticed that his friend Nott was dead.
"I will never be a Death Eater!" Serafina said defiantly. Blaise stood by her side, wand at the ready; there was a bloody gash on his upper left arm, but it didn't seem to be serious. Crabbe and Goyle were watching with round, frightened eyes.
"Then you will die!" Andreas said.
"Andreas, no!" Delia Avery cried out, clutching at her husband's arm. He pushed her away impatiently, knocking her to the ground.
"Please, Serafina," Delia cried. "Don't be foolish, obey your father before it's too late!"
Serafina gave her mother a pitying look. "I was afraid of him for a long time, but not anymore. No...I am still afraid, but I would rather die than become like the Death Eaters, willing to sacrifice a pregnant woman, willing even to kill your own children..."
"Then die!" Andreas snarled. He raised his wand, but Serafina was quicker. She used her healing powers in reverse, as Snape had taught her, and Andreas cried out in pain, blisters and boils and bloody wounds opening up all over his body. "You little bitch!" he screamed.
"Expelliarmus!" Blaise cried, and Andreas's wand flew out of his hand and landed near Delia's feet.
"Give me my wand, quick!" Andreas shouted as Delia picked it up.
"Don't do it, Delia," Snape warned, and she hesitated. "He was going to kill your daughter!" She looked from Snape to her husband uncertainly.
"Give it here, Delia, or I'll kill you!" Andreas roared.
Snape raised his wand. "I don't want to hurt you, Delia," he warned. "But I will if I must."
"No, Professor!" Serafina cried, rushing forward. "Please don't hurt my mother!"
Snape was distracted for a moment, and Andreas lunged forward--not towards Delia and the wand, but for Serafina, who was closer. He was, as Snape had once pointed out, a coward at heart, and he knew that even with his wand, he was no match for Snape and Serafina and her friends combined. So he grabbed his daughter, pulled a knife out of his pocket, and held it to her throat. "Lower your wands!" he shouted. "Do it, or I'll kill her!"
Snape and the boys slowly lowered their wands. "Your own daughter," Snape said with a disgusted look on his face.
"You're soft, Snape!" Andreas retorted. "Too soft to be a Death Eater! Give me the wand, Delia. Good girl."
She held out the wand, as if about to hand it to him, then said softly, "Impedimenta," and Andreas froze in place. His eyes filled with fury but his body was unable to move. Snape quickly stepped forward and pulled the knife out of his hand, and Serafina squirmed out of his grip. Both she and Snape stared at Delia in amazement.
"You...saved me," Serafina whispered in an incredulous voice.
Delia's eyes filled with tears and she smiled sadly. "You sound shocked," she said. "I suppose that only goes to show what a bad mother I am."
"You can bemoan your failings as a mother later," Snape said acerbically. "Take Serafina and the children and get them to the castle. Don't worry, Dumbledore believes in second chances--as I should well know. I'm sure he'll plead mercy for you, providing we all survive long enough for the Ministry to press charges."
"I'm not going," Serafina said stubbornly.
Blaise and Theodore exchanged a glance. "We're not going, either," Theodore said.
"We'll stay and fight with you," Blaise said.
Snape glared at his three students, and they stared back at him with a surprising lack of fear. "We want to fight the Death Eaters," Serafina said.
"You let Dylan and Damien and Brad fight," Theodore said. Snape scowled; he had not precisely "let" them fight. He had known that he could not stop Dylan from trying to avenge his mother, and Damien had refused to leave his friend's side. Brad had run after the other two boys before Snape could stop him. His students were suddenly becoming quite rebellious; he must be losing his touch. Or maybe it was that he no longer seemed so scary compared to the real Death Eaters...
"You don't have time to argue with us," Blaise pointed out logically. "And besides, if the Death Eaters win, they'll kill us anyway. I'd rather die fighting than end up as a blood sacrifice."
"Just try not to get yourselves killed," Snape said sourly.
"Yes, Professor," the children chorused, and he almost smiled.
"De-de-de--" Crabbe suddenly stuttered.
"Dementors!" Goyle cried.
A swarm of Dementors had surrounded them during their brief argument. "Expecto Patronum!" Snape, Delia, and the children shouted, as Andreas tried to shake off the Impediment Curse. Theodore and Serafina produced their weasel and angel Patronuses; Blaise's took the form of a silver owl. Delia, who had never been a very strong mage, produced only a silver cloud, but it was keeping the Dementors away from her for the moment. Crabbe and Goyle were struggling to produce a bit of silver mist, so Snape sent his Patronus, a silver serpent, to protect them. Which left him unguarded, and he felt a chill seep into his bones as a gray, slimy, claw-like hand reached out and closed around his wrist.
Both he and the Dementor fell to the ground as a brown blur streaked towards them and knocked the Dementor over. The Dementor grabbed the wolf's head, pulling the struggling werewolf's face down towards its own...
"LUPIN!" Snape shouted, scrabbling on the ground to find his wand, which he had dropped in the fall. He did not know if the Dementor's Kiss could affect a wolf, and he didn't want to find out.
Crabbe and Goyle for once were not slow-witted and instantly made the connection that the wolf was their teacher, who always smiled at them kindly, the only person (other than maybe Hermione and Neville) who didn't treat them like complete idiots. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they shouted, concentrating hard on their happiest memory...
***
It had been Goyle's fifth birthday, and all his father's friends and their children had been invited to the party. Little Draco Malfoy was already bossing the other children around, and Goyle was expected to go along with it, since Draco's father was some kind of big shot. Draco said something that the adults seemed to find very witty and amusing, and they all laughed. Goyle just sat there with a blank look on his face, and his mother sighed, looking disappointed in him, as she often did.
"He takes after his father, I suppose," she muttered.
Goyle wasn't sure why those words made him feel so ashamed of himself, but they did. But then he looked across the table, and saw another boy, who looked just as blank and bewildered by Draco's joke as Goyle did. Goyle smiled shyly, and Crabbe smiled back. That had been the happiest day of Goyle's life, and Crabbe's too, the day they had each found a best friend. They had a great time that day, feasting on cake, playing birthday games (even though Draco won most of those), and trading Famous Wizard cards with each other. It didn't matter so much that everyone seemed to think they were stupid, because at least they weren't alone anymore.
***
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Crabbe and Goyle shouted, and a shimmering silver badger and bear rushed towards the Dementor holding Lupin, claws outstretched. The Dementor released the wolf and fled. The other Dementors vanished as well.
Snape just sat there on the ground, his mouth hanging open. "F-full Patronuses?" he stammered, dumbfounded. "Crabbe...and GOYLE?!"
Serafina, Blaise, and Theodore looked just as shocked. The wolf ran up to the boys, who braced themselves nervously, not sure if they were about to be attacked by a werewolf. Lupin jumped up and began licking their faces enthusiastically.
"You're welcome!" Goyle laughed.
"Haha, stop that, Professor, it tickles," Crabbe laughed, trying to fend off the grateful wolf.
"Crabbe and Goyle," Snape muttered, shaking his head. It was fortunate that there were no other Death Eaters nearby at moment, because he would have been too stunned to defend himself. Actually, there was one Death Eater present, but he was no threat. In the excitement, everyone had forgotten about Andreas Avery until it was too late. He was still standing where they had left him, but he was staring off into space blankly, with no intelligence behind his eyes. Paralyzed by the Impediment Curse, he had been unable to defend himself from a Dementor who had Kissed him and sucked out his soul.
{No loss,} Snape thought privately, but refrained from saying so out loud for Serafina's and Delia's sakes. Delia was weeping, but Serafina looked calm and not particularly grief-stricken as she comforted her mother.
***
Dumbledore had been pursuing Voldemort, who seemed to be hanging back on the fringes of the battlefield, letting the Death Eaters do most of the fighting. But the giants, with their sheer size and strength, were wreaking a great deal of havoc. A group of Aurors finally arrived, alerted by Dumbledore's urgent message to the Ministry, or perhaps by the breaking of the enchantment on Tonks's collar--or maybe both; either way he was pleased to have them here. But one of the giants uprooted a tree and swung it like a baseball bat at an Auror flying towards him on a broomstick; the Auror went flying through the air like a rag doll and landed heavily on the ground, his body limp and still.
So Dumbledore had to let Voldemort go for the moment, and try to deal with the giants. Meanwhile, Branwen had broken off combat and retreated to the edge of the battlefield. Her old partners Moody and Sirius guarded her as they had in the old days while she performed a Summoning incantation.
There was no time to draw a protective circle, no time to gather incense or material components. She would have to perform the Summoning with an incantation alone; something very dangerous and beyond the capabilities of most mages. But Branwen was not most mages. Some of the Death Eaters noticed what she was doing and began firing spells in her direction. She ignored them and continued chanting, trusting in her partners to deflect the attacks.
The earth beneath their feet began to tremble and a deep voice rumbled, "WHAT IS YOUR WILL?"
"Oh, shit!" squeaked Wormtail.
"Wh-what is that?" the elder Crabbe and Goyle asked nervously.
"A Greater Elemental!" Wormtail said. "Run!" He turned into a rat and scuttled away.
"Damn you, you little coward!" Sirius shouted, but he couldn't leave Branwen's side.
Meanwhile, Branwen was replying to the elemental, "These giants are defiling the earth with blood and death. Reach up and hold them fast in your grip, that we may deal with them."
"DONE!" the voice boomed. The giants suddenly found their feet sinking into the earth--no, the earth was reaching up, over their ankles and up to their knees, at first with the soft consistency of mud, then hardening until it was as strong as stone. No matter how much they struggled, they could not break free.
"Well done, Branwen!" Dumbledore called to her, and went to deal with the giants. The centaurs were taking this opportunity to pepper the immobile targets with arrows, and he hurried off to shout at them to stop, that they didn't need to kill the giants now that they were no longer a threat.
Branwen swayed on her feet a little, and Sirius caught her in his arms. "Are you okay, Branwen?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm fine. The spell just drained me, that's all. Give me a moment to recover."
"You should retreat to the castle, or at least the hospital tent," Sirius said sternly.
"No, dear," she said. "I'm fine now, really." But neither of them moved. Moody stared at them, his good eye narrowing in thought, as his magical eye continued watching the battlefield.
Suddenly they heard Tonks scream in pain, and Sirius's head jerked up. They looked over and saw she was under attack from Lucius Malfoy. They were both standing near the now-abandoned circle intended for the blood sacrifice. "She's in trouble!" Sirius said.
"Go!" Branwen said. Moody and Sirius looked at her uncertainly. "GO!" she repeated, in her best no-nonsense Professorial tone. "I'll be fine; I'm part demon, for Merlin's sake! It takes more than a Summoning spell to knock me out of commission! Go!"
But she was weaker than she had let on, and leaned against a nearby tree for support. Hidden in the tall grass, Wormtail/Scabbers saw this and crept forward.
***
Crabbe and Goyle senior were running away from Branwen and the elemental when they saw a figure jumping up and down on the edge of the battlefield. They could not believe their eyes; it appeared to be Harry Potter!
"Yoo hoo!" cried the boy, waving his arms as he continued to jump up and down. "I'm right over here! Come and get me!"
Crabbe and Goyle grinned at each other; if they captured Harry Potter, their Master would reward them well! They sprinted after the boy, who took off running.
"Can't you run any faster than that?" the boy taunted, running past a large bush.
Intent upon catching the boy, the two Death Eaters did not see a tengu pop up from behind the bush and knock them both on the head with a heavy, wooden staff. They toppled to the ground unconscious.
"Good work, raccoon-boy," Karasu said.
Harry Potter suddenly turned into a plump tanuki. "Good work, crow-boy," Satoshi said cheerfully. They shook hands, then set about disarming and tying up their two captives.
***
Tonks clutched at her shoulder; her robe had been burned away where the spell had touched her, leaving behind scorched flesh, and her right arm was dangling uselessly at her side.
"TONKS!" Shacklebolt screamed, breaking off his duel with Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan did not try to hit the Auror in the back with a spell, but instead decided to use this opportunity to flee. The Death Eaters seemed to be losing the battle, and he was still in shock after having seen his Master murder both his brother and his sister-in-law, the only two people in the world that he really cared about. He was not suicidal enough to attack Voldemort, but he no longer felt any loyalty towards his Master, either. He decided to run, as far and as fast as he could, hoping to find some remote corner of the world where no one had ever heard of the Death Eaters. He was taking a risk, he knew, because the Dark Lord had hunted down and killed Karkaroff even though it had taken him over a year to do it, but Rabastan figured he was smarter than Karkaroff. Besides, the way things were going, Voldemort would likely be slain by the Potter brat...
"MALFOY!" Sirius roared, and a red jet of light shot out of his wand. It hit Lucius's hand, and he screamed in pain and dropped his wand. Simultaneously, Moody pointed his wand at Lucius and shouted, "Avada--"
Draco and Narcissa had both been fighting near Lucius, and Lucius reached out and grabbed his son, pulling Draco in front of him as a shield.
"LUCIUS!" Narcissa screamed in protest.
"--Kedavra!" Moody finished, unable to stop the word from coming out of his mouth in time.
"DRACO!" Snape shouted. He and Lupin threw themselves at Moody, and the three of them tumbled to the ground. Moody's spell was knocked astray in the process, causing the green burst of light to shoot harmlessly past Draco and Lucius.
Snape grabbed Moody by the front of his robes, screaming, "You almost killed a child! Are you insane?!"
"I didn't mean to," Moody protested, shaken despite his earlier declaration to the Order that the Slytherin children might have to be sacrificed for the greater good. "I didn't have time to react!" He wanted to argue that the child had been fighting on the side of the Death Eaters, anyway, but the memory of Draco's eyes, wide with horror and betrayal, stopped him. That sight would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.
Narcissa stood there, shaking with fear and anger and relief. Then she saw a metallic glint in the abandoned blood sacrifice circle--the moonlight reflecting off a small object. She reached down to pick it up, and saw that it was Voldemort's serpent-hilted dagger. She stared down at the dagger numbly. Her marriage to Lucius had been arranged by their parents, but she had been pleased with it. Lucius was rich and powerful and handsome--a proper mate for a pureblood girl of good breeding. He had always treated her with courtesy--he had never laid a hand on her in anger, like those brutes Nott and Avery did to their wives. He was a skilled and attentive lover, and despite his playboy reputation in school, after they had married, there had not been so much as a whispered rumor of infidelity. He was either faithful or very discreet; Narcissa didn't really want to know which. He was a good husband; that was all she needed to know, and she in turn always deferred to him as a good wife should. She had never had cause to regret her marriage. Until now...
"Dad," Draco whispered, staring at his father with horror. "How...how could you do that?" He felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; his father, whom he had loved and worshipped for as long as he could remember, had just tried to kill him.
"Come now, Draco," Lucius blustered, "no harm was done. I knew those softhearted fools wouldn't be able to hurt a child, even one who is a Death Eater."
"You didn't know that!" Draco accused. "You thought you were in danger, so you were going to sacrifice me to save your own skin!"
"What of it?" Lucius snarled. "I told you once, a good Slytherin never trusts anyone! I told you to always be prepared for betrayal!"
"I didn't think you meant from my own family!" Draco wailed.
"You're too soft to be a Malfoy!" Lucius snapped. "I should--" He gasped, breaking off his sentence, and his eyes went wide with shock; a trickle of blood ran out of his open mouth. He pitched forward onto his face, the serpent-shaped hilt of a dagger sticking out of his back.
Narcissa stood behind him, tears pouring down her face. "You tried to kill our son, Lucius," she sobbed. "Anything but that, I could have forgiven."
Draco sank to his knees beside his father's body, weeping. Narcissa reached out to him, but he slapped her hand away. Lupin appeared at his side, whining. He licked at the tears running down Draco's cheeks, but Draco pushed the wolf away. Snape touched his shoulder. "Don't hate your mother, Draco," he said softly. "She loves you. She was trying to protect you."
Draco angrily shrugged his hand off. "She killed my dad! And you're a traitor!" He began to sob hysterically. "My dad betrayed me! My own father was going to let me die to save his own life!"
To everyone's surprise, Serafina Avery knelt beside him and said solemnly, "I'm sorry, Draco."
"Wh-why?" he sniffled.
"Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by your father," she replied. "Only for me, it happened a long time ago: the first time he hit me for no better reason than he was in a bad mood that day."
"I thought he loved me," Draco wept.
"I thought so once, too," Serafina said. "When I was very, very little. But soon I realized that he would never really love me, that I would never be anything more than a possession to him, the same as his wand or his books or his house. I cried then. He's as good as dead now; the Dementors took his soul. I was done mourning for him a long time ago--I don't feel anything now but relief. But I'm sorry about you and your father, Draco."
Draco flung himself into her arms, still sobbing, and Serafina held him, gently rocking him back and forth, as if she were comforting a baby instead of a boy a year older than her. Lupin wagged his tail, and Snape watched in bemusement.
"Look out, Severus!" Narcissa cried, looking over his shoulder. She fired off a spell, and Augustus Rookwood cried out in pain.
"You traitor!" he shouted.
"Harm my son, and all bets are off, Augustus," she said fiercely. "I was a fool not to have seen it before! I saw our dear Master try to kill Nott's son, and saw him take Marta instead when Severus and Lupin saved the boy. I saw my own husband try to use our son as a living shield against a Killing Curse. I owe no loyalty to the Death Eaters, but I do owe the people who saved my son."
"Then die with them!" Rookwood shouted. He had been joined by two other Death Eaters: Macnair and Mulciber. They began hurling spells at Snape and Narcissa, who fired back. Lupin growled, torn between the need to go after the men attacking his mate and the need to stand guard over Draco and Serafina. Sirius and Moody rushed to join the fight, after urging Shacklebolt to take Tonks to the field hospital, over her protests. That evened the odds, but the battle was still heated. Lupin let out a loud yelp as a stray blast struck him in the flank. He licked at the wound, which was rapidly healing--one benefit of being a lycanthrope--but the yelp caused Draco to look up and see that his mother was under attack. He forgot his grief and anger for the moment and joined Snape and the others in fighting the Death Eaters.
It was now five against three, and the Death Eaters looked as though they were having second thoughts. Just as they were about to turn and flee, a sudden barrage of spells hit the three Death Eaters from behind and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Delia Avery and the rest of Snape's Slytherins--Dylan, Damien, Brad, Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore, and Blaise--stood over the bodies with very satisfied grins on their faces.
***
The earth elemental's power, while great, still had its limits, and a few of the giants were too far away to be ensnared by elemental's grip. Those giants had cornered three children at the edge of the Forbidden Forest...
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted; a bolt of red light hit the giant in the leg.
"That tickles," the giant said with a grin.
"Uh-oh," said Ron. He began hurling every spell he could think of at the giants, but nothing seemed to work. Either he was as incompetent as Snape had always claimed, or the giants were too big for the spells to properly affect them.
A giant swatted at Hermione in an almost playful way, like a cat toying with a mouse. She went flying, landing heavily on the ground.
"Hermione!" Ron cried, as he and Harry rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"
She tried to rise, then fell back to the ground, her face creased with pain. "My leg's hurt--I think it might be broken."
Ron and Harry stood in front of her protectively, raising their wands as the giant who had hit Hermione approached. Suddenly a voice roared, "NOT HURT HERMY!" A huge, hairy figure ran out of the forest.
Ron's jaw dropped. "It's Grawp!" he said incredulously. "Hagrid's brother!"
"HERMY HAGGER'S FRIEND!" Grawp shouted angrily, charging straight at the giant threatening Hermione. As big as he was, Grawp was small compared to the other giant, but surprise was on his side. He lowered his head and hit the larger giant in the stomach like a battering ram. The giant let out a startled, "Oof!" and went tumbling head over heels. As he landed, his head hit a rock (well, more of a boulder from the children's point of view) with a loud, sickening crack. The giant's body twitched once, then lay still.
The other giants looked at each other, then almost timidly stepped forward to examine the body. "Yep," one said. "His brains are oozing out. Golgomath's dead. The Gurg is dead; long live the Gurg!" Then he and the other giants knelt down in front of a puzzled Grawp.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, scratching his head.
Despite the pain in her leg, Hermione's mind was as sharp as ever. "Remember Hagrid's story? Golgomath was the Gurg, the leader of the giants, the one who allied with the Death Eaters. Grawp just killed Golgomath, so I think that makes him the new Gurg."
"Grawp is the king of the giants now?!" Ron yelped.
"Apparently," Hermione said, unfazed. "Grawp, tell them we're all friends now. We don't want to fight with them."
"Friends!" Grawp declared. "No fighting!" The giants nodded obediently. They were tired of fighting, anyway. Several of their number had been killed, and many more had just been captured by Branwen's elemental.
Harry raised a hand to his forehead as his scar started throbbing. He looked up to see a dark-robed figure backing away into the forest; the robes were voluminous and black, like the ones all the Death Eaters wore, but the person's face was ghostly white with crimson eyes. It was Voldemort.
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry shouted, and the Dark Lord retreated further into the forest. Harry started after him.
Ron grabbed his arm. "You can't take on You-Know-Who all by yourself!" he shouted. "Are you nuts?!"
"I have to!" Harry shouted back. "That's what the prophecy said, that no one could kill him but me! Sirius and Lupin and the others are fighting out there--people are dying! All this killing won't stop until Voldemort's dead! Until I kill him!"
"But Harry," Ron said helplessly.
"I have to do this," Harry whispered. "I have to do this alone; no one else can help me. You stay here and look after Hermione." He jerked free and ran into the forest.
"HARRY!" Ron shouted, but Harry did not look back.
***
Meanwhile, Scabbers the rat snuck through the grass until he was right next to Branwen, then transformed back into a man. For a split-second, she was too startled to react, and Wormtail shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Her wand went flying out of her hand; Bane launched himself off her shoulder into the air, and Wormtail hastily shot off a curse at him. The raven let out a loud squawk of pain and fell to the ground, bright red blood showing through his black feathers. Branwen, connected by a mental bond to her familiar, felt the raven's pain as if it were her own, and fell to the ground clutching at her chest.
Wormtail had not expected that, but he grinned with sadistic pleasure. He summoned her wand to his hand with an Accio spell, and snapped it in two. "Ah, Professor Blackmore," he said as he looked down at her. "We students feared you so much, you and that demonic bird of yours. You so enjoyed bullying us; how does it feel to be the helpless one for a change?"
"Peter," Branwen gasped, "I wasn't trying to bully you. I was trying to make you stronger."
"Well then, you should be proud of me now, Professor!" Wormtail snapped. "I was weak, so I allied myself with the stronger side. I am the one with the power now!"
"I can forgive some of the Death Eaters," Branwen whispered, still overwhelmed by pain. "Though they were misguided, their motives were not purely selfish. Evan, who joined for love, and Lyall for loyalty to his friend. Severus, who joined for revenge but repented and risked his life, living a lie for fifteen years to atone for his mistakes. Even Gwydion, as corrupted as he became in the end, first joined because he wanted to help his brother. But you, Peter...you betrayed James and Lily to their deaths, let Sirius go to prison for your crimes..."
"I had no choice!" Wormtail cried. "He was going to kill me!"
"So you betrayed your friends to save yourself," Branwen said. "Cowardice was your motive, Peter, and that I cannot forgive."
"Shut up!" Wormtail shouted, and bent down to slap her hard across the face. "I don't have to take that from you anymore!" His wand fell to the ground as his silver hand closed around her throat. "I'll show you how strong I am, Professor. I don't even need magic to kill you."
Across the battlefield, Lupin barked urgently. Sirius turned around and saw Branwen lying prone on the ground, a dark-robed figure crouching above her. "BRANWEN!" he screamed, pelting across the field at breakneck speed. Snape and the others were running after him, but he quickly outdistanced them.
"Peter," Branwen whispered. Although she was struggling to breathe, she was smiling, and there was a cold, sinister gleam in her emerald-colored eyes. "Do you remember the rumors about me?"
"Yeah, that you had demon blood," he sneered, tightening his hand around her neck. "What of it?"
"They're true," Branwen whispered, still smiling. She clutched at his arm with one hand, and Wormtail's mocking laughter was quickly replaced by a shriek of pain as her long fingernails sank right through his sleeve and into his flesh.
Wormtail released her throat and tried to pull his arm free, but she was holding onto him with an iron grip, with a strength that could not possibly be human. "Let go of me!" he screamed, a frantic edge creeping into his voice. "What kind of monster are you, woman?!"
"I told you, Peter," Branwen said, with that terrifying smile, "I am a demon--the descendant of a Demon Prince. And demons do not need little sticks of wood to make magic." She whispered in a sibilant, melodious, and strangely hypnotic language Wormtail had never heard before.
The demonic magic her forefather Araqiel had taught Branwen began to take effect. Voldemort would have been envious if he had been watching, because with a brief incantation, Branwen cast essentially the same spell that had taken him months of research and the petals of the vampiric roses to develop. Wormtail let out a bloodcurdling scream as his former teacher literally drained the life out of him. He struck at her with his free hand, flailing wildly, then frantically looked for the wand he had so carelessly dropped when he had decided to strangle her. But it was too late; his struggles grew weak and feeble, then ceased altogether.
Branwen let Wormtail's lifeless body fall to the ground, and sat up, rubbing at her bruised throat. Sirius ran up to her, looking wild-eyed. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shouting, "Are you all right?!"
"Yes," she said. "I'm fine, Sirius. No need to fuss."
"You infuriating woman!" Sirius shouted. "That Summoning spell took more out of you than you let on, otherwise Pettigrew would never have gotten the drop on you like that! You could have been killed!"
Branwen was a little taken aback by the force of his rage. "Sirius, I--mmph!" Her eyes flew wide open as Sirius pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth.
"MERLIN'S BEARD!" Snape shouted, as he witnessed his former classmate kissing the Professor they had both lived in terror of as children. The children also stared in shock, Lupin wagged his tail, and Moody chuckled.
Branwen was too shocked to resist at first, then she wasn't sure she wanted to. She had persisted in thinking of Sirius as a child still, but pressed tightly against his chest with his lips on hers, she was faced with irrefutable evidence that he was no longer a little boy. She had been alone for a very long time, always keeping others at a distance, as Sirius had once carelessly and astutely pointed out. She could not remember the last time she had been held, the last time she had been kissed. No, that was not quite true...she had been courted by many of the demon men during her stay in Prince Araqiel's realm, but those had been minor flirtations and dalliances to pass the time. They had cared nothing for her, nor she for them. Sirius, as frustrating and stubborn and hotheaded as he could be at times, did care for her. She remembered how she had comforted him as he belatedly wept for his dead brother, and how he had comforted her in turn when she had been overwhelmed by guilt for the students she had been unable to save.
Sirius finally broke off the kiss, but he did not let go of her. His eyes were still frantic and his face was still a little pale. "Branwen...if I had lost you..." He choked up, unable to continue.
"Sirius," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. Her fingers were still covered with Wormtail's blood, but neither of them seemed to notice. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with sorrow and joy and a touch of bewilderment. How strange, to discover love when one least expected it, in the midst of war and death. "When did you grow up?" she asked.
"I'm not exactly sure," he replied. "But it started when you came back into my life. You wouldn't let me take the easy way out; you wouldn't let me keep lying to myself. You challenged my Gryffindor notions of right and wrong." He grinned for a moment, then sobered. "I hated you for it, but I loved you for it as well. I...love you." As a teenager and a young adult, he had always been confident and smooth, assured of his charm and his ability to get any girl he wanted. But now he looked shy, awkward, and uncertain, yet totally sincere. Branwen decided that she liked him much better this way.
"I love you, too, Sirius," Branwen said softly.
"Like a son?" he asked, a bit suspiciously. "Or--" In answer, she gave him a very deep and unmotherly kiss. "Well," he gasped, looking a little dazed, "I guess that answers my question!"
An indignant squawk interrupted the two new lovers. "Bane!" Branwen exclaimed guiltily. "I forgot all about him!" She scooped up her wounded familiar and began fussing over him.
"I'm always playing second fiddle to that bird," Sirius said with a rueful smile.
Serafina came over to take a look at the raven. "His wounds aren't that bad, Professor. I can heal him for you."
"Thank you, dear," Branwen said gratefully.
The battle seemed to be more or less over, although it had taken a heavy toll on both sides. The giants were immobilized, most of the Death Eaters seemed to be dead or captured, but someone was missing...
"Where's Potter?" Snape asked sharply.
"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius, looking around frantically. "Where is he? I don't see him or Ron or Hermione or--"
"Or Voldemort," Snape finished grimly, the first time he had spoken his Master's name aloud since the Dark Lord had been resurrected. Defeating the giants and the Death Eaters didn't matter if Potter failed to defeat Voldemort...that was the only battle that truly mattered, and they had nearly lost sight of that in the heat of the moment.
As they headed off in search of Harry, four giants ran into view. Ron Weasley was riding on the shoulders of the lead giant, who was cradling Hermione Granger in his arms. "Stop!" Ron shouted, as a centaur nocked an arrow on his bow. "Don't shoot! They're friends!"
"Ron!" Dumbledore shouted. "Where's Harry?"
"That's what I've come to tell you! Harry ran off into the forest after You-Know-Who! We have to help him!"
***
Voldemort hung back from the battle as much as possible, for two reasons: one, he wanted to conserve his strength, and two, he was hoping that if he waited long enough, Potter--who would not hold back, noble Gryffindor that he was--would be wounded and weakened by the battle and be easy prey.
But the battle was not going as he had expected; he had thought he would have the element of surprise, but Dumbledore had been ready for him. Voldemort still wasn't sure how the old man had known; Severus had turned out to be a traitor, but he had not been privy to the battle plans. Voldemort wondered exactly when Severus had turned traitor, and why. Had he been working for Dumbledore all along, or had he perhaps turned coat after Voldemort had taken Dylan into the Death Eaters against Snape's advice? Dylan and the other children--Voldemort suspected that was Snape's motive, after seeing how fiercely he had guarded them on the battlefield today. Clearly all those years of teaching had made Severus soft, but Voldemort would make him pay once this was all over: he would torture the Potions Master's precious little brats to death slowly in front of his eyes. But he wondered how Severus had managed to deceive him; Voldemort had never picked up any hint of treachery with his Legilimency, yet somehow he had never quite fully trusted Severus. Well, he would torture the information out of Snape later, rip it out of his mind if he must, and next time Voldemort would trust his instincts no matter what his Legilimency told him.
But his Death Eaters were falling, one by one, and Dumbledore's unlikely allies seemed to have the Dementors and the giants more or less under control. Voldemort slowly retreated into the forest, wondering how things had gone so wrong. Then he spotted Harry Potter and his two little friends, and just when it seemed like the giants would kill them, some runty rogue giant killed Golgomath by sheer dumb luck. Voldemort cursed, but he should have expected this; the prophecy had made it clear that he was the only one who could kill Harry Potter. Apparently fate wasn't going to let some giant do it for him.
"VOLDEMORT!" Potter shouted, and Voldemort found himself fleeing in fear without thinking. As he ran, logic took over and reminded him that the boy was a green, half-trained wizard while he was the dreaded Dark Lord, who had decades more experience and knew spells the boy had never even heard of before. But he kept running, telling himself that he wanted to draw the boy away from his friends and allies so they could not interfere.
"Voldemort, you coward!" Potter shouted. "Stop running and face me like a man!"
Voldemort abruptly wheeled about and fired a curse at the boy, who yelped and ducked as a tree behind him exploded into splinters. "Did you learn to spout cliches from Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked. "I expected better from him, even if he is a doddering old fool!"
"Don't talk about the Headmaster that way!" Potter shouted, casting a hex at Voldemort.
The Dark Lord laughed, easily evading it. "Come now, Potter, you'll have to do better than that if you want to defeat me!" He fired another curse at the boy; this one hit, slashing the front of his robe open. A long, bloody gash was slowly sealing itself on the boy's blue-stained chest.
Voldemort laughed. "Celtic War Paint? A bit melodramatic, but quite ingenious! Did Severus teach you how to make that?" Some conflicting emotion flickered in the boy's eyes. "Ah, so he did! Another thing he will pay for, when I get my hands on him!"
"You're not getting your hands on Professor Snape or anyone else!" Harry retorted.
"I'll torture your friend Snape to death after I finish you off," Voldemort taunted. "He'll be begging me to kill him before I'm done with him!"
***
Harry flushed, feeling angry that Voldemort had forced him to speak in Snape's defense, and guilty that he felt angry about it. He wanted to protest, "Snape's not my friend," knowing it was a rather silly and trivial thought at a time like this. Then he had to fight the urge to giggle hysterically when he thought about how affronted Snape would be if he could hear himself being referred to as Harry's "friend."
"I'll kill your other friends, too," Voldemort added. "That Weasley boy, and the little Muggle girl..."
Harry's eyes blazed with anger. "You leave them alone!" he said fiercely, pointing his wand at Voldemort. "Crucio!"
He caught the Dark Lord by surprise; Voldemort cried out, convulsing in pain. He shook off the spell, then grinned and said, "Good boy!"
"Wh-what?" stammered a startled Harry.
"You used an Unforgivable Curse on me," Voldemort replied, smiling at him approvingly, confusing Harry further. "I didn't think you had the guts. That's worth a life sentence in Azkaban, you know."
"Professor Moody taught me how to use it!" Harry protested. "He--" Then Harry broke off in consternation.
"But it wasn't Moody, was it?" Voldemort finished. "It was one of my Death Eaters, Barty Crouch, who taught you how to cast the Unforgivable Curses."
"Well," Harry said, flustered and defiant, "nobody would care if I used one on you! They--they'd probably give me a medal!"
Voldemort chuckled, looking even more pleased. "Yes, they probably would. The ends justify the means regardless of the rules--that is the Slytherin way."
"I'm not a Slytherin!" shouted Harry.
"But you could have been," Voldemort said calmly.
"I chose not to be!" Harry retorted. "Professor Dumbledore said that's the difference between you and me!"
"My dear child," Voldemort purred, "you and I are more alike than you realize. We both were scorned by our Muggle relatives. We both chafed at the pointless restrictions and rules the school imposed on us--"
"I'm nothing like you!" Harry shouted.
Voldemort lowered his wand. "Forget the prophecy, Harry; who cares what some half-witted fortune teller mumbled one night under the influence of too much wine?" He held out his hand to Harry. "Join with me, child, and you will soar to heights of power you never dreamed of before. Together we can rule the wizarding world!"
"You're insane!" Harry cried. "I'll never join you!"
"Harry," Voldemort asked in a soft voice, "why do you think you can speak Parseltongue? Why were you able to enter the Chamber of Secrets?"
"I can speak Parseltongue because you can," Harry snapped. "Dumbledore said you transferred some of your power to me when you gave me this!" He pointed at his scar. "I'm certainly not the Heir of Slytherin, if that's what you're getting at! You're the one who opened the Chamber, not me!"
"Yes, I opened it by influencing the Weasley girl with my diary," Voldemort said, "but do you really think that just anyone could have found the Chamber, Harry? Do you think that just anyone could have entered it? The Weasley boy and that idiot Lockhart went with you that day to rescue Ginny, but you were the only one who actually made it into the Chamber of Secrets."
"So what are you saying?" Harry demanded. "That I'm the Heir of Slytherin? That's ridiculous!"
"No, I am the Heir of Slytherin," Voldemort replied calmly. "But you are MY heir."
"Wh-what are you talking about?!" Harry exclaimed, looking angry and frightened. "You're trying to trick me, aren't you?"
"The blood of Salazar Slytherin flows in your veins, Harry," Voldemort said in a low, intense voice, "as it does in mine. You are my grandson."
***
After hearing Ron's news, Dumbledore left Branwen, Math, and Arthur Weasley--who was the ranking Ministry official on the scene, now that Fudge was dead--in charge while he went in search of Harry, along with Sirius, Snape, Lupin, and Moody. Ron of course refused to be left behind, pointing out that they needed him to show them which way Harry had gone; if Hermione's leg had not been broken, no doubt she would have insisted on coming along too. As brave as they had been tonight, the courage of Snape's Slytherins ran out at the thought of confronting the Dark Lord; they were all more than willing to stay behind, except for Dylan, who didn't want to leave Snape's side. But there was no way that Snape was going to let Dylan get anywhere near Voldemort, so he ordered him to stay back, and instructed Branwen and Math to Stupefy him if necessary.
Ron led them to the place where Golgomath had been killed--his body served as a convenient marker--and they made their way into the forest. They arrived just in time to hear Voldemort say that Harry was his heir and grandson.
"WHAT?!" shrieked Sirius. He turned desperately to Dumbledore saying, "He's lying, right? It's got to be some sort of trick, to get Harry to drop his guard!"
Dumbledore looked just as stunned. "It can't be...I thought Harry acquired the gift of Parseltongue when Voldemort attacked him as a baby...but...but..."
"But he could have inherited it," Snape finished, looking pale and troubled. Of course, Voldemort was a consummate liar, but somehow this had the ring of truth about it. Lupin laid back his ears and whined; he could not really follow the conversation in his wolf form at present, but he could sense the fear and distress in his companions. Snape reached down almost absent-mindedly to scratch behind Lupin's ears.
Black raised his wand and ran forward; Snape grabbed at him but missed, Black's robes slipping through his fingers. "Black, you idiot!" Snape hissed. Stupid Gryffindor, always acting without thinking!
Sirius seemed to hit some kind of invisible force field before he got within ten feet of Harry and the Dark Lord, and was thrown back violently. Oddly enough, neither Harry nor Voldemort seemed to notice, as if they were in their own little world.
Sirius groaned and sat up slowly while Lupin sniffed at him anxiously and Snape said sourly, "You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed, Black, not to mention the boy. You don't just go charging in on the Dark Lord like that--at least, not if you want to survive."
"I don't think it's Voldemort's doing," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I think it's the prophecy. It said that one of them must kill the other, and apparently it's intent on letting them do that without interference."
"So we're just supposed to sit here and watch?!" Sirius asked indignantly.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said wearily, the full weight of his one-hundred fifty and some odd years showing on his face. "We knew that in the end, he would have to face Voldemort alone."
"So there's nothing we can do?" Ron asked helplessly.
Dumbledore laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We can believe in him, Ron."
"Fat lot of good that will do," Snape muttered, and for once, Black looked as if he agreed. He clearly wanted to be there fighting beside his godson, and for once, Snape felt a little sympathy for him. If it had been Dylan there instead of Potter, Snape would be going out of his mind with fear and frustration. Lupin whined again, and Snape knelt down beside him. Lupin pressed against him, licking his face, and Snape held the wolf and stroked its fur, ignoring Moody's dumbfounded look. If they were about to be killed shortly, he would share what little comfort he could with Lupin in the brief time they had left; a little embarrassment would mean nothing to him once he was dead. "I won't let him take you, Remus," Snape whispered into the wolf's ear. If Potter fell, then he would kill both Lupin and himself immediately after, because a quick death would be far better than whatever fate the Dark Lord had in store for them. Then he frowned; no, he couldn't kill himself, at least not right away, because Dylan was still back at the battlefield, and so were his other students. He couldn't leave them to Voldemort's tender mercies...but what was he supposed to do? Kill them to save them from Voldemort? Take them and spend the rest of their lives running and hiding and waiting for the Death Eaters to catch up with them? His arms tightened around the wolf as despair filled him, and Lupin licked his face in what was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture. He had no choice now but to believe in Potter, believe that Potter would win the battle, because any other outcome was too terrible to contemplate.
Part 35
Meanwhile, Thaddeus was dragging his son towards Voldemort, who was holding a red dagger in one hand. "Please, please, Father, don't do this, please," Theodore begged.
"I'm not happy about giving up my only heir, as worthless as you are," Thaddeus growled. "But it's you or me."
"Mother!" Theodore cried desperately, knowing it wouldn't do any good. "Mother, please help me!" But Marta only stood there shaking in terror, tears running down her face.
Lupin saw this, and felt the change come over him. If a werewolf was faced with sufficient danger--or, if his loved ones were, apparently--he would change involuntarily, even if the moon wasn't full. A brown wolf rushed forward, leapt up, and his jaws snapped shut around Thaddeus Nott's arm with a loud crunching sound--the sound of bones breaking. Thaddeus screamed, releasing his son. Snape grabbed Theodore, who was still suffering from the residual effects of the Imperius Curse, and dragged him away to relative safety.
Lupin released Thaddeus and slowly backed away, growling. He was not taking the Wolfsbane Potion at present, since the moon was not full yet, so his mind was not entirely human, but somehow it was not entirely animal, either. Perhaps it was because he had been taking the potion regularly for four years now, or maybe it was because he had changed to protect someone dear to him, but whatever the reason, he was sane enough to not want to kill. Some small part of him, although he was not consciously aware of it right now, did not want to kill Thaddeus because it would cause Theodore pain, no matter how much he hated his father.
Thaddeus had no such compunctions. He raised his wand with his good arm; Lupin tensed and crouched down, preparing to spring. Then Thaddeus cried out in pain and stared down dumbly at the length of steel emerging from his chest, wondering where it had come from. Karasu pulled his sword out of the Death Eater's body and Thaddeus toppled to the ground, dead.
"Don't be so soft next time, Lupin," Karasu scolded. "It could get you killed." Lupin barked, wagged his tail, and jumped up and licked the tengu's face in thanks. "Argh!" Karasu exclaimed, wiping his face and flushing with embarrassment. "Don't do that, you stupid dog!" Lupin barked again, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and ran back onto the battlefield.
Voldemort, denied his sacrifice, grabbed Marta instead and stabbed her with his dagger. Her scream caused Theodore to look back.
"Mother!"
"It's too late!" Snape said, dragging him along. "There's nothing you can do!" Theodore did not protest, but followed numbly as Voldemort stole his mother's life-force, then cast aside her body as carelessly as a child might toss aside a candy wrapper. Then Theodore forgot about her for the time being when he saw Serafina and Blaise confronting Andreas Avery.
"Time to start behaving like a Death Eater," Andreas said; he had not yet noticed that his friend Nott was dead.
"I will never be a Death Eater!" Serafina said defiantly. Blaise stood by her side, wand at the ready; there was a bloody gash on his upper left arm, but it didn't seem to be serious. Crabbe and Goyle were watching with round, frightened eyes.
"Then you will die!" Andreas said.
"Andreas, no!" Delia Avery cried out, clutching at her husband's arm. He pushed her away impatiently, knocking her to the ground.
"Please, Serafina," Delia cried. "Don't be foolish, obey your father before it's too late!"
Serafina gave her mother a pitying look. "I was afraid of him for a long time, but not anymore. No...I am still afraid, but I would rather die than become like the Death Eaters, willing to sacrifice a pregnant woman, willing even to kill your own children..."
"Then die!" Andreas snarled. He raised his wand, but Serafina was quicker. She used her healing powers in reverse, as Snape had taught her, and Andreas cried out in pain, blisters and boils and bloody wounds opening up all over his body. "You little bitch!" he screamed.
"Expelliarmus!" Blaise cried, and Andreas's wand flew out of his hand and landed near Delia's feet.
"Give me my wand, quick!" Andreas shouted as Delia picked it up.
"Don't do it, Delia," Snape warned, and she hesitated. "He was going to kill your daughter!" She looked from Snape to her husband uncertainly.
"Give it here, Delia, or I'll kill you!" Andreas roared.
Snape raised his wand. "I don't want to hurt you, Delia," he warned. "But I will if I must."
"No, Professor!" Serafina cried, rushing forward. "Please don't hurt my mother!"
Snape was distracted for a moment, and Andreas lunged forward--not towards Delia and the wand, but for Serafina, who was closer. He was, as Snape had once pointed out, a coward at heart, and he knew that even with his wand, he was no match for Snape and Serafina and her friends combined. So he grabbed his daughter, pulled a knife out of his pocket, and held it to her throat. "Lower your wands!" he shouted. "Do it, or I'll kill her!"
Snape and the boys slowly lowered their wands. "Your own daughter," Snape said with a disgusted look on his face.
"You're soft, Snape!" Andreas retorted. "Too soft to be a Death Eater! Give me the wand, Delia. Good girl."
She held out the wand, as if about to hand it to him, then said softly, "Impedimenta," and Andreas froze in place. His eyes filled with fury but his body was unable to move. Snape quickly stepped forward and pulled the knife out of his hand, and Serafina squirmed out of his grip. Both she and Snape stared at Delia in amazement.
"You...saved me," Serafina whispered in an incredulous voice.
Delia's eyes filled with tears and she smiled sadly. "You sound shocked," she said. "I suppose that only goes to show what a bad mother I am."
"You can bemoan your failings as a mother later," Snape said acerbically. "Take Serafina and the children and get them to the castle. Don't worry, Dumbledore believes in second chances--as I should well know. I'm sure he'll plead mercy for you, providing we all survive long enough for the Ministry to press charges."
"I'm not going," Serafina said stubbornly.
Blaise and Theodore exchanged a glance. "We're not going, either," Theodore said.
"We'll stay and fight with you," Blaise said.
Snape glared at his three students, and they stared back at him with a surprising lack of fear. "We want to fight the Death Eaters," Serafina said.
"You let Dylan and Damien and Brad fight," Theodore said. Snape scowled; he had not precisely "let" them fight. He had known that he could not stop Dylan from trying to avenge his mother, and Damien had refused to leave his friend's side. Brad had run after the other two boys before Snape could stop him. His students were suddenly becoming quite rebellious; he must be losing his touch. Or maybe it was that he no longer seemed so scary compared to the real Death Eaters...
"You don't have time to argue with us," Blaise pointed out logically. "And besides, if the Death Eaters win, they'll kill us anyway. I'd rather die fighting than end up as a blood sacrifice."
"Just try not to get yourselves killed," Snape said sourly.
"Yes, Professor," the children chorused, and he almost smiled.
"De-de-de--" Crabbe suddenly stuttered.
"Dementors!" Goyle cried.
A swarm of Dementors had surrounded them during their brief argument. "Expecto Patronum!" Snape, Delia, and the children shouted, as Andreas tried to shake off the Impediment Curse. Theodore and Serafina produced their weasel and angel Patronuses; Blaise's took the form of a silver owl. Delia, who had never been a very strong mage, produced only a silver cloud, but it was keeping the Dementors away from her for the moment. Crabbe and Goyle were struggling to produce a bit of silver mist, so Snape sent his Patronus, a silver serpent, to protect them. Which left him unguarded, and he felt a chill seep into his bones as a gray, slimy, claw-like hand reached out and closed around his wrist.
Both he and the Dementor fell to the ground as a brown blur streaked towards them and knocked the Dementor over. The Dementor grabbed the wolf's head, pulling the struggling werewolf's face down towards its own...
"LUPIN!" Snape shouted, scrabbling on the ground to find his wand, which he had dropped in the fall. He did not know if the Dementor's Kiss could affect a wolf, and he didn't want to find out.
Crabbe and Goyle for once were not slow-witted and instantly made the connection that the wolf was their teacher, who always smiled at them kindly, the only person (other than maybe Hermione and Neville) who didn't treat them like complete idiots. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they shouted, concentrating hard on their happiest memory...
***
It had been Goyle's fifth birthday, and all his father's friends and their children had been invited to the party. Little Draco Malfoy was already bossing the other children around, and Goyle was expected to go along with it, since Draco's father was some kind of big shot. Draco said something that the adults seemed to find very witty and amusing, and they all laughed. Goyle just sat there with a blank look on his face, and his mother sighed, looking disappointed in him, as she often did.
"He takes after his father, I suppose," she muttered.
Goyle wasn't sure why those words made him feel so ashamed of himself, but they did. But then he looked across the table, and saw another boy, who looked just as blank and bewildered by Draco's joke as Goyle did. Goyle smiled shyly, and Crabbe smiled back. That had been the happiest day of Goyle's life, and Crabbe's too, the day they had each found a best friend. They had a great time that day, feasting on cake, playing birthday games (even though Draco won most of those), and trading Famous Wizard cards with each other. It didn't matter so much that everyone seemed to think they were stupid, because at least they weren't alone anymore.
***
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Crabbe and Goyle shouted, and a shimmering silver badger and bear rushed towards the Dementor holding Lupin, claws outstretched. The Dementor released the wolf and fled. The other Dementors vanished as well.
Snape just sat there on the ground, his mouth hanging open. "F-full Patronuses?" he stammered, dumbfounded. "Crabbe...and GOYLE?!"
Serafina, Blaise, and Theodore looked just as shocked. The wolf ran up to the boys, who braced themselves nervously, not sure if they were about to be attacked by a werewolf. Lupin jumped up and began licking their faces enthusiastically.
"You're welcome!" Goyle laughed.
"Haha, stop that, Professor, it tickles," Crabbe laughed, trying to fend off the grateful wolf.
"Crabbe and Goyle," Snape muttered, shaking his head. It was fortunate that there were no other Death Eaters nearby at moment, because he would have been too stunned to defend himself. Actually, there was one Death Eater present, but he was no threat. In the excitement, everyone had forgotten about Andreas Avery until it was too late. He was still standing where they had left him, but he was staring off into space blankly, with no intelligence behind his eyes. Paralyzed by the Impediment Curse, he had been unable to defend himself from a Dementor who had Kissed him and sucked out his soul.
{No loss,} Snape thought privately, but refrained from saying so out loud for Serafina's and Delia's sakes. Delia was weeping, but Serafina looked calm and not particularly grief-stricken as she comforted her mother.
***
Dumbledore had been pursuing Voldemort, who seemed to be hanging back on the fringes of the battlefield, letting the Death Eaters do most of the fighting. But the giants, with their sheer size and strength, were wreaking a great deal of havoc. A group of Aurors finally arrived, alerted by Dumbledore's urgent message to the Ministry, or perhaps by the breaking of the enchantment on Tonks's collar--or maybe both; either way he was pleased to have them here. But one of the giants uprooted a tree and swung it like a baseball bat at an Auror flying towards him on a broomstick; the Auror went flying through the air like a rag doll and landed heavily on the ground, his body limp and still.
So Dumbledore had to let Voldemort go for the moment, and try to deal with the giants. Meanwhile, Branwen had broken off combat and retreated to the edge of the battlefield. Her old partners Moody and Sirius guarded her as they had in the old days while she performed a Summoning incantation.
There was no time to draw a protective circle, no time to gather incense or material components. She would have to perform the Summoning with an incantation alone; something very dangerous and beyond the capabilities of most mages. But Branwen was not most mages. Some of the Death Eaters noticed what she was doing and began firing spells in her direction. She ignored them and continued chanting, trusting in her partners to deflect the attacks.
The earth beneath their feet began to tremble and a deep voice rumbled, "WHAT IS YOUR WILL?"
"Oh, shit!" squeaked Wormtail.
"Wh-what is that?" the elder Crabbe and Goyle asked nervously.
"A Greater Elemental!" Wormtail said. "Run!" He turned into a rat and scuttled away.
"Damn you, you little coward!" Sirius shouted, but he couldn't leave Branwen's side.
Meanwhile, Branwen was replying to the elemental, "These giants are defiling the earth with blood and death. Reach up and hold them fast in your grip, that we may deal with them."
"DONE!" the voice boomed. The giants suddenly found their feet sinking into the earth--no, the earth was reaching up, over their ankles and up to their knees, at first with the soft consistency of mud, then hardening until it was as strong as stone. No matter how much they struggled, they could not break free.
"Well done, Branwen!" Dumbledore called to her, and went to deal with the giants. The centaurs were taking this opportunity to pepper the immobile targets with arrows, and he hurried off to shout at them to stop, that they didn't need to kill the giants now that they were no longer a threat.
Branwen swayed on her feet a little, and Sirius caught her in his arms. "Are you okay, Branwen?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm fine. The spell just drained me, that's all. Give me a moment to recover."
"You should retreat to the castle, or at least the hospital tent," Sirius said sternly.
"No, dear," she said. "I'm fine now, really." But neither of them moved. Moody stared at them, his good eye narrowing in thought, as his magical eye continued watching the battlefield.
Suddenly they heard Tonks scream in pain, and Sirius's head jerked up. They looked over and saw she was under attack from Lucius Malfoy. They were both standing near the now-abandoned circle intended for the blood sacrifice. "She's in trouble!" Sirius said.
"Go!" Branwen said. Moody and Sirius looked at her uncertainly. "GO!" she repeated, in her best no-nonsense Professorial tone. "I'll be fine; I'm part demon, for Merlin's sake! It takes more than a Summoning spell to knock me out of commission! Go!"
But she was weaker than she had let on, and leaned against a nearby tree for support. Hidden in the tall grass, Wormtail/Scabbers saw this and crept forward.
***
Crabbe and Goyle senior were running away from Branwen and the elemental when they saw a figure jumping up and down on the edge of the battlefield. They could not believe their eyes; it appeared to be Harry Potter!
"Yoo hoo!" cried the boy, waving his arms as he continued to jump up and down. "I'm right over here! Come and get me!"
Crabbe and Goyle grinned at each other; if they captured Harry Potter, their Master would reward them well! They sprinted after the boy, who took off running.
"Can't you run any faster than that?" the boy taunted, running past a large bush.
Intent upon catching the boy, the two Death Eaters did not see a tengu pop up from behind the bush and knock them both on the head with a heavy, wooden staff. They toppled to the ground unconscious.
"Good work, raccoon-boy," Karasu said.
Harry Potter suddenly turned into a plump tanuki. "Good work, crow-boy," Satoshi said cheerfully. They shook hands, then set about disarming and tying up their two captives.
***
Tonks clutched at her shoulder; her robe had been burned away where the spell had touched her, leaving behind scorched flesh, and her right arm was dangling uselessly at her side.
"TONKS!" Shacklebolt screamed, breaking off his duel with Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan did not try to hit the Auror in the back with a spell, but instead decided to use this opportunity to flee. The Death Eaters seemed to be losing the battle, and he was still in shock after having seen his Master murder both his brother and his sister-in-law, the only two people in the world that he really cared about. He was not suicidal enough to attack Voldemort, but he no longer felt any loyalty towards his Master, either. He decided to run, as far and as fast as he could, hoping to find some remote corner of the world where no one had ever heard of the Death Eaters. He was taking a risk, he knew, because the Dark Lord had hunted down and killed Karkaroff even though it had taken him over a year to do it, but Rabastan figured he was smarter than Karkaroff. Besides, the way things were going, Voldemort would likely be slain by the Potter brat...
"MALFOY!" Sirius roared, and a red jet of light shot out of his wand. It hit Lucius's hand, and he screamed in pain and dropped his wand. Simultaneously, Moody pointed his wand at Lucius and shouted, "Avada--"
Draco and Narcissa had both been fighting near Lucius, and Lucius reached out and grabbed his son, pulling Draco in front of him as a shield.
"LUCIUS!" Narcissa screamed in protest.
"--Kedavra!" Moody finished, unable to stop the word from coming out of his mouth in time.
"DRACO!" Snape shouted. He and Lupin threw themselves at Moody, and the three of them tumbled to the ground. Moody's spell was knocked astray in the process, causing the green burst of light to shoot harmlessly past Draco and Lucius.
Snape grabbed Moody by the front of his robes, screaming, "You almost killed a child! Are you insane?!"
"I didn't mean to," Moody protested, shaken despite his earlier declaration to the Order that the Slytherin children might have to be sacrificed for the greater good. "I didn't have time to react!" He wanted to argue that the child had been fighting on the side of the Death Eaters, anyway, but the memory of Draco's eyes, wide with horror and betrayal, stopped him. That sight would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.
Narcissa stood there, shaking with fear and anger and relief. Then she saw a metallic glint in the abandoned blood sacrifice circle--the moonlight reflecting off a small object. She reached down to pick it up, and saw that it was Voldemort's serpent-hilted dagger. She stared down at the dagger numbly. Her marriage to Lucius had been arranged by their parents, but she had been pleased with it. Lucius was rich and powerful and handsome--a proper mate for a pureblood girl of good breeding. He had always treated her with courtesy--he had never laid a hand on her in anger, like those brutes Nott and Avery did to their wives. He was a skilled and attentive lover, and despite his playboy reputation in school, after they had married, there had not been so much as a whispered rumor of infidelity. He was either faithful or very discreet; Narcissa didn't really want to know which. He was a good husband; that was all she needed to know, and she in turn always deferred to him as a good wife should. She had never had cause to regret her marriage. Until now...
"Dad," Draco whispered, staring at his father with horror. "How...how could you do that?" He felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; his father, whom he had loved and worshipped for as long as he could remember, had just tried to kill him.
"Come now, Draco," Lucius blustered, "no harm was done. I knew those softhearted fools wouldn't be able to hurt a child, even one who is a Death Eater."
"You didn't know that!" Draco accused. "You thought you were in danger, so you were going to sacrifice me to save your own skin!"
"What of it?" Lucius snarled. "I told you once, a good Slytherin never trusts anyone! I told you to always be prepared for betrayal!"
"I didn't think you meant from my own family!" Draco wailed.
"You're too soft to be a Malfoy!" Lucius snapped. "I should--" He gasped, breaking off his sentence, and his eyes went wide with shock; a trickle of blood ran out of his open mouth. He pitched forward onto his face, the serpent-shaped hilt of a dagger sticking out of his back.
Narcissa stood behind him, tears pouring down her face. "You tried to kill our son, Lucius," she sobbed. "Anything but that, I could have forgiven."
Draco sank to his knees beside his father's body, weeping. Narcissa reached out to him, but he slapped her hand away. Lupin appeared at his side, whining. He licked at the tears running down Draco's cheeks, but Draco pushed the wolf away. Snape touched his shoulder. "Don't hate your mother, Draco," he said softly. "She loves you. She was trying to protect you."
Draco angrily shrugged his hand off. "She killed my dad! And you're a traitor!" He began to sob hysterically. "My dad betrayed me! My own father was going to let me die to save his own life!"
To everyone's surprise, Serafina Avery knelt beside him and said solemnly, "I'm sorry, Draco."
"Wh-why?" he sniffled.
"Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by your father," she replied. "Only for me, it happened a long time ago: the first time he hit me for no better reason than he was in a bad mood that day."
"I thought he loved me," Draco wept.
"I thought so once, too," Serafina said. "When I was very, very little. But soon I realized that he would never really love me, that I would never be anything more than a possession to him, the same as his wand or his books or his house. I cried then. He's as good as dead now; the Dementors took his soul. I was done mourning for him a long time ago--I don't feel anything now but relief. But I'm sorry about you and your father, Draco."
Draco flung himself into her arms, still sobbing, and Serafina held him, gently rocking him back and forth, as if she were comforting a baby instead of a boy a year older than her. Lupin wagged his tail, and Snape watched in bemusement.
"Look out, Severus!" Narcissa cried, looking over his shoulder. She fired off a spell, and Augustus Rookwood cried out in pain.
"You traitor!" he shouted.
"Harm my son, and all bets are off, Augustus," she said fiercely. "I was a fool not to have seen it before! I saw our dear Master try to kill Nott's son, and saw him take Marta instead when Severus and Lupin saved the boy. I saw my own husband try to use our son as a living shield against a Killing Curse. I owe no loyalty to the Death Eaters, but I do owe the people who saved my son."
"Then die with them!" Rookwood shouted. He had been joined by two other Death Eaters: Macnair and Mulciber. They began hurling spells at Snape and Narcissa, who fired back. Lupin growled, torn between the need to go after the men attacking his mate and the need to stand guard over Draco and Serafina. Sirius and Moody rushed to join the fight, after urging Shacklebolt to take Tonks to the field hospital, over her protests. That evened the odds, but the battle was still heated. Lupin let out a loud yelp as a stray blast struck him in the flank. He licked at the wound, which was rapidly healing--one benefit of being a lycanthrope--but the yelp caused Draco to look up and see that his mother was under attack. He forgot his grief and anger for the moment and joined Snape and the others in fighting the Death Eaters.
It was now five against three, and the Death Eaters looked as though they were having second thoughts. Just as they were about to turn and flee, a sudden barrage of spells hit the three Death Eaters from behind and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Delia Avery and the rest of Snape's Slytherins--Dylan, Damien, Brad, Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore, and Blaise--stood over the bodies with very satisfied grins on their faces.
***
The earth elemental's power, while great, still had its limits, and a few of the giants were too far away to be ensnared by elemental's grip. Those giants had cornered three children at the edge of the Forbidden Forest...
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted; a bolt of red light hit the giant in the leg.
"That tickles," the giant said with a grin.
"Uh-oh," said Ron. He began hurling every spell he could think of at the giants, but nothing seemed to work. Either he was as incompetent as Snape had always claimed, or the giants were too big for the spells to properly affect them.
A giant swatted at Hermione in an almost playful way, like a cat toying with a mouse. She went flying, landing heavily on the ground.
"Hermione!" Ron cried, as he and Harry rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"
She tried to rise, then fell back to the ground, her face creased with pain. "My leg's hurt--I think it might be broken."
Ron and Harry stood in front of her protectively, raising their wands as the giant who had hit Hermione approached. Suddenly a voice roared, "NOT HURT HERMY!" A huge, hairy figure ran out of the forest.
Ron's jaw dropped. "It's Grawp!" he said incredulously. "Hagrid's brother!"
"HERMY HAGGER'S FRIEND!" Grawp shouted angrily, charging straight at the giant threatening Hermione. As big as he was, Grawp was small compared to the other giant, but surprise was on his side. He lowered his head and hit the larger giant in the stomach like a battering ram. The giant let out a startled, "Oof!" and went tumbling head over heels. As he landed, his head hit a rock (well, more of a boulder from the children's point of view) with a loud, sickening crack. The giant's body twitched once, then lay still.
The other giants looked at each other, then almost timidly stepped forward to examine the body. "Yep," one said. "His brains are oozing out. Golgomath's dead. The Gurg is dead; long live the Gurg!" Then he and the other giants knelt down in front of a puzzled Grawp.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, scratching his head.
Despite the pain in her leg, Hermione's mind was as sharp as ever. "Remember Hagrid's story? Golgomath was the Gurg, the leader of the giants, the one who allied with the Death Eaters. Grawp just killed Golgomath, so I think that makes him the new Gurg."
"Grawp is the king of the giants now?!" Ron yelped.
"Apparently," Hermione said, unfazed. "Grawp, tell them we're all friends now. We don't want to fight with them."
"Friends!" Grawp declared. "No fighting!" The giants nodded obediently. They were tired of fighting, anyway. Several of their number had been killed, and many more had just been captured by Branwen's elemental.
Harry raised a hand to his forehead as his scar started throbbing. He looked up to see a dark-robed figure backing away into the forest; the robes were voluminous and black, like the ones all the Death Eaters wore, but the person's face was ghostly white with crimson eyes. It was Voldemort.
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry shouted, and the Dark Lord retreated further into the forest. Harry started after him.
Ron grabbed his arm. "You can't take on You-Know-Who all by yourself!" he shouted. "Are you nuts?!"
"I have to!" Harry shouted back. "That's what the prophecy said, that no one could kill him but me! Sirius and Lupin and the others are fighting out there--people are dying! All this killing won't stop until Voldemort's dead! Until I kill him!"
"But Harry," Ron said helplessly.
"I have to do this," Harry whispered. "I have to do this alone; no one else can help me. You stay here and look after Hermione." He jerked free and ran into the forest.
"HARRY!" Ron shouted, but Harry did not look back.
***
Meanwhile, Scabbers the rat snuck through the grass until he was right next to Branwen, then transformed back into a man. For a split-second, she was too startled to react, and Wormtail shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Her wand went flying out of her hand; Bane launched himself off her shoulder into the air, and Wormtail hastily shot off a curse at him. The raven let out a loud squawk of pain and fell to the ground, bright red blood showing through his black feathers. Branwen, connected by a mental bond to her familiar, felt the raven's pain as if it were her own, and fell to the ground clutching at her chest.
Wormtail had not expected that, but he grinned with sadistic pleasure. He summoned her wand to his hand with an Accio spell, and snapped it in two. "Ah, Professor Blackmore," he said as he looked down at her. "We students feared you so much, you and that demonic bird of yours. You so enjoyed bullying us; how does it feel to be the helpless one for a change?"
"Peter," Branwen gasped, "I wasn't trying to bully you. I was trying to make you stronger."
"Well then, you should be proud of me now, Professor!" Wormtail snapped. "I was weak, so I allied myself with the stronger side. I am the one with the power now!"
"I can forgive some of the Death Eaters," Branwen whispered, still overwhelmed by pain. "Though they were misguided, their motives were not purely selfish. Evan, who joined for love, and Lyall for loyalty to his friend. Severus, who joined for revenge but repented and risked his life, living a lie for fifteen years to atone for his mistakes. Even Gwydion, as corrupted as he became in the end, first joined because he wanted to help his brother. But you, Peter...you betrayed James and Lily to their deaths, let Sirius go to prison for your crimes..."
"I had no choice!" Wormtail cried. "He was going to kill me!"
"So you betrayed your friends to save yourself," Branwen said. "Cowardice was your motive, Peter, and that I cannot forgive."
"Shut up!" Wormtail shouted, and bent down to slap her hard across the face. "I don't have to take that from you anymore!" His wand fell to the ground as his silver hand closed around her throat. "I'll show you how strong I am, Professor. I don't even need magic to kill you."
Across the battlefield, Lupin barked urgently. Sirius turned around and saw Branwen lying prone on the ground, a dark-robed figure crouching above her. "BRANWEN!" he screamed, pelting across the field at breakneck speed. Snape and the others were running after him, but he quickly outdistanced them.
"Peter," Branwen whispered. Although she was struggling to breathe, she was smiling, and there was a cold, sinister gleam in her emerald-colored eyes. "Do you remember the rumors about me?"
"Yeah, that you had demon blood," he sneered, tightening his hand around her neck. "What of it?"
"They're true," Branwen whispered, still smiling. She clutched at his arm with one hand, and Wormtail's mocking laughter was quickly replaced by a shriek of pain as her long fingernails sank right through his sleeve and into his flesh.
Wormtail released her throat and tried to pull his arm free, but she was holding onto him with an iron grip, with a strength that could not possibly be human. "Let go of me!" he screamed, a frantic edge creeping into his voice. "What kind of monster are you, woman?!"
"I told you, Peter," Branwen said, with that terrifying smile, "I am a demon--the descendant of a Demon Prince. And demons do not need little sticks of wood to make magic." She whispered in a sibilant, melodious, and strangely hypnotic language Wormtail had never heard before.
The demonic magic her forefather Araqiel had taught Branwen began to take effect. Voldemort would have been envious if he had been watching, because with a brief incantation, Branwen cast essentially the same spell that had taken him months of research and the petals of the vampiric roses to develop. Wormtail let out a bloodcurdling scream as his former teacher literally drained the life out of him. He struck at her with his free hand, flailing wildly, then frantically looked for the wand he had so carelessly dropped when he had decided to strangle her. But it was too late; his struggles grew weak and feeble, then ceased altogether.
Branwen let Wormtail's lifeless body fall to the ground, and sat up, rubbing at her bruised throat. Sirius ran up to her, looking wild-eyed. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shouting, "Are you all right?!"
"Yes," she said. "I'm fine, Sirius. No need to fuss."
"You infuriating woman!" Sirius shouted. "That Summoning spell took more out of you than you let on, otherwise Pettigrew would never have gotten the drop on you like that! You could have been killed!"
Branwen was a little taken aback by the force of his rage. "Sirius, I--mmph!" Her eyes flew wide open as Sirius pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth.
"MERLIN'S BEARD!" Snape shouted, as he witnessed his former classmate kissing the Professor they had both lived in terror of as children. The children also stared in shock, Lupin wagged his tail, and Moody chuckled.
Branwen was too shocked to resist at first, then she wasn't sure she wanted to. She had persisted in thinking of Sirius as a child still, but pressed tightly against his chest with his lips on hers, she was faced with irrefutable evidence that he was no longer a little boy. She had been alone for a very long time, always keeping others at a distance, as Sirius had once carelessly and astutely pointed out. She could not remember the last time she had been held, the last time she had been kissed. No, that was not quite true...she had been courted by many of the demon men during her stay in Prince Araqiel's realm, but those had been minor flirtations and dalliances to pass the time. They had cared nothing for her, nor she for them. Sirius, as frustrating and stubborn and hotheaded as he could be at times, did care for her. She remembered how she had comforted him as he belatedly wept for his dead brother, and how he had comforted her in turn when she had been overwhelmed by guilt for the students she had been unable to save.
Sirius finally broke off the kiss, but he did not let go of her. His eyes were still frantic and his face was still a little pale. "Branwen...if I had lost you..." He choked up, unable to continue.
"Sirius," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. Her fingers were still covered with Wormtail's blood, but neither of them seemed to notice. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with sorrow and joy and a touch of bewilderment. How strange, to discover love when one least expected it, in the midst of war and death. "When did you grow up?" she asked.
"I'm not exactly sure," he replied. "But it started when you came back into my life. You wouldn't let me take the easy way out; you wouldn't let me keep lying to myself. You challenged my Gryffindor notions of right and wrong." He grinned for a moment, then sobered. "I hated you for it, but I loved you for it as well. I...love you." As a teenager and a young adult, he had always been confident and smooth, assured of his charm and his ability to get any girl he wanted. But now he looked shy, awkward, and uncertain, yet totally sincere. Branwen decided that she liked him much better this way.
"I love you, too, Sirius," Branwen said softly.
"Like a son?" he asked, a bit suspiciously. "Or--" In answer, she gave him a very deep and unmotherly kiss. "Well," he gasped, looking a little dazed, "I guess that answers my question!"
An indignant squawk interrupted the two new lovers. "Bane!" Branwen exclaimed guiltily. "I forgot all about him!" She scooped up her wounded familiar and began fussing over him.
"I'm always playing second fiddle to that bird," Sirius said with a rueful smile.
Serafina came over to take a look at the raven. "His wounds aren't that bad, Professor. I can heal him for you."
"Thank you, dear," Branwen said gratefully.
The battle seemed to be more or less over, although it had taken a heavy toll on both sides. The giants were immobilized, most of the Death Eaters seemed to be dead or captured, but someone was missing...
"Where's Potter?" Snape asked sharply.
"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius, looking around frantically. "Where is he? I don't see him or Ron or Hermione or--"
"Or Voldemort," Snape finished grimly, the first time he had spoken his Master's name aloud since the Dark Lord had been resurrected. Defeating the giants and the Death Eaters didn't matter if Potter failed to defeat Voldemort...that was the only battle that truly mattered, and they had nearly lost sight of that in the heat of the moment.
As they headed off in search of Harry, four giants ran into view. Ron Weasley was riding on the shoulders of the lead giant, who was cradling Hermione Granger in his arms. "Stop!" Ron shouted, as a centaur nocked an arrow on his bow. "Don't shoot! They're friends!"
"Ron!" Dumbledore shouted. "Where's Harry?"
"That's what I've come to tell you! Harry ran off into the forest after You-Know-Who! We have to help him!"
***
Voldemort hung back from the battle as much as possible, for two reasons: one, he wanted to conserve his strength, and two, he was hoping that if he waited long enough, Potter--who would not hold back, noble Gryffindor that he was--would be wounded and weakened by the battle and be easy prey.
But the battle was not going as he had expected; he had thought he would have the element of surprise, but Dumbledore had been ready for him. Voldemort still wasn't sure how the old man had known; Severus had turned out to be a traitor, but he had not been privy to the battle plans. Voldemort wondered exactly when Severus had turned traitor, and why. Had he been working for Dumbledore all along, or had he perhaps turned coat after Voldemort had taken Dylan into the Death Eaters against Snape's advice? Dylan and the other children--Voldemort suspected that was Snape's motive, after seeing how fiercely he had guarded them on the battlefield today. Clearly all those years of teaching had made Severus soft, but Voldemort would make him pay once this was all over: he would torture the Potions Master's precious little brats to death slowly in front of his eyes. But he wondered how Severus had managed to deceive him; Voldemort had never picked up any hint of treachery with his Legilimency, yet somehow he had never quite fully trusted Severus. Well, he would torture the information out of Snape later, rip it out of his mind if he must, and next time Voldemort would trust his instincts no matter what his Legilimency told him.
But his Death Eaters were falling, one by one, and Dumbledore's unlikely allies seemed to have the Dementors and the giants more or less under control. Voldemort slowly retreated into the forest, wondering how things had gone so wrong. Then he spotted Harry Potter and his two little friends, and just when it seemed like the giants would kill them, some runty rogue giant killed Golgomath by sheer dumb luck. Voldemort cursed, but he should have expected this; the prophecy had made it clear that he was the only one who could kill Harry Potter. Apparently fate wasn't going to let some giant do it for him.
"VOLDEMORT!" Potter shouted, and Voldemort found himself fleeing in fear without thinking. As he ran, logic took over and reminded him that the boy was a green, half-trained wizard while he was the dreaded Dark Lord, who had decades more experience and knew spells the boy had never even heard of before. But he kept running, telling himself that he wanted to draw the boy away from his friends and allies so they could not interfere.
"Voldemort, you coward!" Potter shouted. "Stop running and face me like a man!"
Voldemort abruptly wheeled about and fired a curse at the boy, who yelped and ducked as a tree behind him exploded into splinters. "Did you learn to spout cliches from Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked. "I expected better from him, even if he is a doddering old fool!"
"Don't talk about the Headmaster that way!" Potter shouted, casting a hex at Voldemort.
The Dark Lord laughed, easily evading it. "Come now, Potter, you'll have to do better than that if you want to defeat me!" He fired another curse at the boy; this one hit, slashing the front of his robe open. A long, bloody gash was slowly sealing itself on the boy's blue-stained chest.
Voldemort laughed. "Celtic War Paint? A bit melodramatic, but quite ingenious! Did Severus teach you how to make that?" Some conflicting emotion flickered in the boy's eyes. "Ah, so he did! Another thing he will pay for, when I get my hands on him!"
"You're not getting your hands on Professor Snape or anyone else!" Harry retorted.
"I'll torture your friend Snape to death after I finish you off," Voldemort taunted. "He'll be begging me to kill him before I'm done with him!"
***
Harry flushed, feeling angry that Voldemort had forced him to speak in Snape's defense, and guilty that he felt angry about it. He wanted to protest, "Snape's not my friend," knowing it was a rather silly and trivial thought at a time like this. Then he had to fight the urge to giggle hysterically when he thought about how affronted Snape would be if he could hear himself being referred to as Harry's "friend."
"I'll kill your other friends, too," Voldemort added. "That Weasley boy, and the little Muggle girl..."
Harry's eyes blazed with anger. "You leave them alone!" he said fiercely, pointing his wand at Voldemort. "Crucio!"
He caught the Dark Lord by surprise; Voldemort cried out, convulsing in pain. He shook off the spell, then grinned and said, "Good boy!"
"Wh-what?" stammered a startled Harry.
"You used an Unforgivable Curse on me," Voldemort replied, smiling at him approvingly, confusing Harry further. "I didn't think you had the guts. That's worth a life sentence in Azkaban, you know."
"Professor Moody taught me how to use it!" Harry protested. "He--" Then Harry broke off in consternation.
"But it wasn't Moody, was it?" Voldemort finished. "It was one of my Death Eaters, Barty Crouch, who taught you how to cast the Unforgivable Curses."
"Well," Harry said, flustered and defiant, "nobody would care if I used one on you! They--they'd probably give me a medal!"
Voldemort chuckled, looking even more pleased. "Yes, they probably would. The ends justify the means regardless of the rules--that is the Slytherin way."
"I'm not a Slytherin!" shouted Harry.
"But you could have been," Voldemort said calmly.
"I chose not to be!" Harry retorted. "Professor Dumbledore said that's the difference between you and me!"
"My dear child," Voldemort purred, "you and I are more alike than you realize. We both were scorned by our Muggle relatives. We both chafed at the pointless restrictions and rules the school imposed on us--"
"I'm nothing like you!" Harry shouted.
Voldemort lowered his wand. "Forget the prophecy, Harry; who cares what some half-witted fortune teller mumbled one night under the influence of too much wine?" He held out his hand to Harry. "Join with me, child, and you will soar to heights of power you never dreamed of before. Together we can rule the wizarding world!"
"You're insane!" Harry cried. "I'll never join you!"
"Harry," Voldemort asked in a soft voice, "why do you think you can speak Parseltongue? Why were you able to enter the Chamber of Secrets?"
"I can speak Parseltongue because you can," Harry snapped. "Dumbledore said you transferred some of your power to me when you gave me this!" He pointed at his scar. "I'm certainly not the Heir of Slytherin, if that's what you're getting at! You're the one who opened the Chamber, not me!"
"Yes, I opened it by influencing the Weasley girl with my diary," Voldemort said, "but do you really think that just anyone could have found the Chamber, Harry? Do you think that just anyone could have entered it? The Weasley boy and that idiot Lockhart went with you that day to rescue Ginny, but you were the only one who actually made it into the Chamber of Secrets."
"So what are you saying?" Harry demanded. "That I'm the Heir of Slytherin? That's ridiculous!"
"No, I am the Heir of Slytherin," Voldemort replied calmly. "But you are MY heir."
"Wh-what are you talking about?!" Harry exclaimed, looking angry and frightened. "You're trying to trick me, aren't you?"
"The blood of Salazar Slytherin flows in your veins, Harry," Voldemort said in a low, intense voice, "as it does in mine. You are my grandson."
***
After hearing Ron's news, Dumbledore left Branwen, Math, and Arthur Weasley--who was the ranking Ministry official on the scene, now that Fudge was dead--in charge while he went in search of Harry, along with Sirius, Snape, Lupin, and Moody. Ron of course refused to be left behind, pointing out that they needed him to show them which way Harry had gone; if Hermione's leg had not been broken, no doubt she would have insisted on coming along too. As brave as they had been tonight, the courage of Snape's Slytherins ran out at the thought of confronting the Dark Lord; they were all more than willing to stay behind, except for Dylan, who didn't want to leave Snape's side. But there was no way that Snape was going to let Dylan get anywhere near Voldemort, so he ordered him to stay back, and instructed Branwen and Math to Stupefy him if necessary.
Ron led them to the place where Golgomath had been killed--his body served as a convenient marker--and they made their way into the forest. They arrived just in time to hear Voldemort say that Harry was his heir and grandson.
"WHAT?!" shrieked Sirius. He turned desperately to Dumbledore saying, "He's lying, right? It's got to be some sort of trick, to get Harry to drop his guard!"
Dumbledore looked just as stunned. "It can't be...I thought Harry acquired the gift of Parseltongue when Voldemort attacked him as a baby...but...but..."
"But he could have inherited it," Snape finished, looking pale and troubled. Of course, Voldemort was a consummate liar, but somehow this had the ring of truth about it. Lupin laid back his ears and whined; he could not really follow the conversation in his wolf form at present, but he could sense the fear and distress in his companions. Snape reached down almost absent-mindedly to scratch behind Lupin's ears.
Black raised his wand and ran forward; Snape grabbed at him but missed, Black's robes slipping through his fingers. "Black, you idiot!" Snape hissed. Stupid Gryffindor, always acting without thinking!
Sirius seemed to hit some kind of invisible force field before he got within ten feet of Harry and the Dark Lord, and was thrown back violently. Oddly enough, neither Harry nor Voldemort seemed to notice, as if they were in their own little world.
Sirius groaned and sat up slowly while Lupin sniffed at him anxiously and Snape said sourly, "You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed, Black, not to mention the boy. You don't just go charging in on the Dark Lord like that--at least, not if you want to survive."
"I don't think it's Voldemort's doing," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I think it's the prophecy. It said that one of them must kill the other, and apparently it's intent on letting them do that without interference."
"So we're just supposed to sit here and watch?!" Sirius asked indignantly.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said wearily, the full weight of his one-hundred fifty and some odd years showing on his face. "We knew that in the end, he would have to face Voldemort alone."
"So there's nothing we can do?" Ron asked helplessly.
Dumbledore laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We can believe in him, Ron."
"Fat lot of good that will do," Snape muttered, and for once, Black looked as if he agreed. He clearly wanted to be there fighting beside his godson, and for once, Snape felt a little sympathy for him. If it had been Dylan there instead of Potter, Snape would be going out of his mind with fear and frustration. Lupin whined again, and Snape knelt down beside him. Lupin pressed against him, licking his face, and Snape held the wolf and stroked its fur, ignoring Moody's dumbfounded look. If they were about to be killed shortly, he would share what little comfort he could with Lupin in the brief time they had left; a little embarrassment would mean nothing to him once he was dead. "I won't let him take you, Remus," Snape whispered into the wolf's ear. If Potter fell, then he would kill both Lupin and himself immediately after, because a quick death would be far better than whatever fate the Dark Lord had in store for them. Then he frowned; no, he couldn't kill himself, at least not right away, because Dylan was still back at the battlefield, and so were his other students. He couldn't leave them to Voldemort's tender mercies...but what was he supposed to do? Kill them to save them from Voldemort? Take them and spend the rest of their lives running and hiding and waiting for the Death Eaters to catch up with them? His arms tightened around the wolf as despair filled him, and Lupin licked his face in what was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture. He had no choice now but to believe in Potter, believe that Potter would win the battle, because any other outcome was too terrible to contemplate.
Part 35