Chapter 22
Harry stepped into the mansion onto broken glass. The mirror above the fireplace in the dining room had been broken. It cut his feet but he walked through it. He felt pulled towards the office. In his mind he heard screaming and a crash.
But the office was empty when he walked in. A bookcase had fallen over, underneath it a blood stain was faded into the white carpet. Books had been torn from the shelves, their pages scattered like flower petals. The furniture was destroyed and a painting on the wall hung open sideways revealing a rectangular hole in the wall behind it. Harry swung the painting on its vertical hinges. He looked around the room and found a chair that hadn’t been too severely damaged. He sat it upright and took a seat facing that strange rectangular space. He leaned forward on his elbows and set his chin on his upright fists. Voices flooded into the air around him.
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“It’s not here.” Harry said, panting and struggling to stand. Lucius looked in the empty wall cavern and yelled.
“My little snake has bitten the wrong hand.” He cursed. He turned back to Harry. “I suppose he sent you as well.”
“No one has to send me after you. Collecting trash is my job.”
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Harry sat back in the chair and sighed. Lucius had come for his stash of emergency supplies. The box wasn’t there. Harry had cut into it and the documents were secured in the ministry evidence vaults. Lucius was mad about that.
Harry picked up the chair and dragged it towards the overturned bookcase. Was this his blood?
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Harry’s wand was ahead of him. He whispered a spell into the dark and a small flicker of light shown before him. He turned the corner into the office. He stepped in carefully, his heart racing. The door slammed behind him, making him jump. A Hand shoved Harry forward, crashing him into a table.
“Potter, Potter, Potter…” Lucius stood over him. “You’re losing your touch.”
“Flipendo.” Harry cast and Lucius flew backwards and smashed into the desk knocking it over. Ron burst into the room. In a streak of wandless magic Lucius brought the towering bookcase by the door down over him. Lucius stood and ran to the painting on the wall. Harry pulled a thick shard of wood from his side and struggled to stand.
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Harry lifted his shirt and looked at his side. There was a scar there, he had seen it before and now he knew where it came from. The wound had healed fine, but that didn’t stop him from touching the skin, remembering the pain.
“Harry?” Hermione whispered from the hall. Harry stood and poked his head out the door.
“Is Ron alright? I mean he looks alright but…”
“He’s fine. Draco’s as good as everyone says after all.” She tried to joke.
“Good.”
“Harry come out of there.”
“Sorry, not quite done yet.” He turned back to the room. There was a large black scorch mark on the wall opposite the painting. He ran his hand over it and watched as little traces of magic sparkled off his fingers.
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“I’m going to have fun killing you.” Lucius lunged at Harry and they tumbled through the room. Harry cast at him again but it missed and burst against the wall. Lucius pinned Harry down.
“And when I’m through with you, I can finally expend my pathetic excuse for a family as well.”
With a yell Harry threw the man from him. He quickly toppled Lucius and he held him down by the neck, his wand inches away.
“Do it.” Lucius laughed with a wild look in his eye. “Do it, Do it, Do it!”
“Shut up!” Harry growled and pressed his wand into the skin at Lucius’s throat.
“Do it. I know you want to. It’s better than anything I could do to him. Do it Potter! Once you’re the man who killed his father, that’s all you’ll ever be to him.”
The words made Harry falter and Lucius swung for the upper hand.
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Harry dropped his hand from the wall. He knew now, just as he had known then, that Lucius’s words were true. And Draco’s absence was surely further proof. He sat down against the wall and leaned his head back. The ceiling in the office was swirling and textured. Harry closed his eyes.
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“Come on! Let’s go say Hello.” Lucius grabbed a barely conscious Harry by the hair and apparated.
In the sitting room Harry screamed out in pain. His scars had opened again and he felt the familiar wetness of blood against his clothes. Kreacher appeared in the room and disappeared in an instant at the sight of Lucius. Harry laid crumpled on the floor, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Lucius laughed into the house. A bolt of bright magic burst through the room striking Lucius. He fell next to Harry and his gray eyes were cold.
“Harry!” A voice called. He knew that voice, he smiled as he looked to see his face. He thought that it would be alright, if that’s the last thing he saw. Harry reached up and touched Draco’s cheek with a smile.
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Harry opened his eyes. That’s where the memory ended. He laughed until he cried. He hadn’t been the one who killed Lucius after all. He could still make things work. He had to see Draco. Harry stood and ran out of the room past Hermione.
Once again he cut his feet on the shattered mirror. He grabbed a handful of powder and another scene appeared before him. Lucius had thrown Harry into the mirror, that’s what had broken it. He touched his head again and stared at a circular indentation of crackled plaster on the wall. He heard Hermione behind him. When he jumped into the flugh this time he whispered his next stop. He didn’t want anyone following him this time.