Chapter Seventeen
“The next password will be ‘Cedric’. Keep faith and good night,” Lee Jordan said and then pressed the glowing button atop his magical radio, effectively shutting off the second program of Potterwatch. It had just aired from the fourth floor of the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, 12 Grimmauld Place, after Sirius had found Lee on a recovery mission in Leeds. The Order had received word through a government source in the city that a Wizard in hiding was seeking the Order’s protection and help with a task that the government source deemed highly worthy.
The Wizard had been Lee, and his hopeful task for the Order had been re-airing his program Potterwatch after his safe house had been swormed by Death Eaters.
“I’d say that was excellent,” Lee declared, turning to the room at large.
Across the table, Remus Lupin smiled wryly, his eyes lit from within with mischief, “I’d say so as well, Lee.”
Beside Remus, Sirius Black grinned wickedly, and leaned over to share with Remus his ideas for the next program’s contributions. Among them: sharing the updated instructions for the magical community on how to order Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products such as Instant Darkness Powder, and how to charm compasses to display a loved one’s coordinates so you could always track them (the coordinates only to be displayed after a password was given, of course).
At Lee’s right hand, Fred Weasley was positively vibrating with energy, his feet tapping the floor in his new purple-suede shoes, “Bloody brilliant! George’ll kill me for sticking him on a delivery run tonight while I got to contribute!” Fred beamed, looking absolutely delighted at the prospect of his twin murdering him over Potterwatch envy. Lee beamed back, thrilled at being reunited with his best friends after months in hiding.
Andromeda Tonks rose smoothly to her feet, smiling around at the young boys and men around her, “Well done, all. I’ll relieve Fleur from Teddy duties, shall I?” She said, looking toward Sirius and Remus.
“Thank you—” Remus began, but went abruptly silent.
The stag Patronus—the silver image of Prongs—had landed on the large circular table beside the magical radio. The stag’s mouth opened and Harry’s frantic words filled the room: Greyback. He’s here!
The Patronus vanished in a wisp of white smoke.
All eyes went to Sirius and Remus, who both stared at that spot where the stag had been standing. Sirius just stared and stared while slowly, Remus’ brown eyes narrowed. A second later, he rose to standing so quickly that even Sirius blinked in surprise.
“Right. We don’t know where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were camping, or how or why Greyback found them. But we do know that if he succeeded in…taking them…that he’d likely not harm them himself. You-Know-Who has given clear instructions on Harry to his followers; they are not to harm him. So, if Harry is caught, Greyback must have taken him somewhere.”
Remus swallowed—and everyone’s face paled. Voldemort had given clear instructions about Harry, yes, but not Ron and Hermione. Fred and Lee looked as if they might be sick.
“If we are to assume that he did take them somewhere and not…” Sirius growled, ducking his head and clenching his fists before speaking again, “then I reckon we should start with Malfoy Manor.”
Andromeda turned to catch Sirius’ eye; her face solemn as she looked between the two men, “How will you know he is even in there with all the wards in place? And how would you even get in?”
“I have a fairly good idea,” Sirius answered, his voice like gravel as he jumped to his feet and spun on his heel, headed for the door.
Andromeda threw out her arm, grabbing Sirius’ shoulder, “Bill, Kingsley, and Sturgis are busy, but Nymphadora’s here. You’ll need her help—”
“Oi! I’m coming too!” Fred cried; his voice strained but determined.
“And me!” Lee said, pulling out his wand.
Sirius looked as if he were seriously considering it but Remus rounded on the two young men, “No,” he said in a voice that left no room for arguing. Fred looked as if he were on the verge of shouting but Remus barreled on, “I will not risk anyone else falling prey to Greyback,” he said.
“But Remus,” Andromeda pressed, “You’ll need help. You and Sirius can’t possibly enter Malfoy Manor and save Harry and his friends alone. At least let Nymphadora—”
“Andy,” Remus said, his voice quiet yet carrying, “I will not bring your daughter within a thousand kilometers of that monster.”
Andromeda’s mouth opened and closed. Remus stared at her, his prematurely lined and scarred face was open and clear. She saw then that the man would not relent. After a moment Andromeda insisted again, “Alright. But Ayala and Diana—”
Remus shook his head, “The Full Moon is tomorrow night and they are feeling the effects. I meant to give them healing tonics tonight—the ones Sirius procured for me from St. Mungo’s before I became Alpha…”
Andromeda interrupted, “So then give them the tonics and have them help you!”
Remus shook his head, his eyes growing more weary, “Even so, they’re not duelists, Andy.”
Sirius erupted, “Bloody hell! It’s Harry and it’s Greyback and he’s likely at Malfoy Manor—and we need to go now!”
Sirius did not voice his other desperation: If Harry was not at Malfoy Manor, what in Merlin’s name would he and Moony do then? They had to start looking now.
Remus reached for Sirius’ hand, interlacing their fingers so their wedding rings pressed tightly against one another. Remus turned back to Andromeda, Lee, and Fred—their alarm and horror were palpable in the air, in their blood; metallic and sharp.
Beside Remus, Sirius’ heart thundered, his lungs heaving.
But three floors below, Remus caught tendrils of Teddy’s citrus and mint scent, heard the child’s steady heartbeat and his soft bell of laughter followed by the words, “Again, Auntie Fleur, again!”
Remus closed his eyes, inhaled, and then concentrated.
The air tightened around him, and the next second, he and Sirius were standing on a deserted country lane with open fields all around them.
They’d been trying for weeks to get through the wards to no avail. And now everything depended on the two men standing feet away from wrought-iron gates that they could not see.
Remus and Sirius stood and stared without seeing as Greyback and the Snatchers brought the prisoners into the Manor.
“What’s your idea?” Remus asked Sirius quietly.
Sirius smiled grimly back. It would take concentration, but if Harry was inside, then they would reach out to him.
“HERMIONE!” Ron shouted, his voice cracking, going raw.
“Ron,” Harry begged breathlessly, “We need a plan; we need to get these ropes off…”
“Harry?” came a whisper through the darkness, “Ron? Is that you?”
Harry’s heart thrilled, “Luna!”
“Yes, it’s me!” Harry could tell she was smiling.
“Luna, please, can you help us get these ropes off?” Harry asked.
“Oh yes…there’s an old nail we use if we need to break anything…just a moment…”
Hermione screamed again overhead and they could hear Bellatrix screaming too, but her words were drowned out by Ron who shouted again, “HERMIONE! HERMIONE!”
“Mr. Ollivander, have you got the nail?” Luna was saying. She returned seconds later, “You’ll need to sit still.”
Harry could feel her digging at the rope’s tough fibers while upstairs, Bellatrix’s voice carried.
“I’m going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?”
“We found it—we found it—PLEASE!”
Hermione screamed again and Ron struggled once more against the bonds.
“Ron, please stay still,” Luna whispered, “I can’t see what I’m doing…”
“My pocket!” Ron hissed, his voice scratchy from shouting, “In my pocket there’s a Deluminator, and it’s full of light!”
A few moments later there was a click and luminescent spheres flew into the dungeon, floating like tiny suns and flooding the underground room in light. Harry saw Luna, her blue eyes huge in her white face, and the motionless figure of Ollivander the wandmaker, curled up on the floor in the corner. Craning around, Harry caught sight of their fellow prisoners: Dean Thomas, Ted Tonks, and Griphook the goblin, who seemed barely conscious, kept standing by the ropes that tied him to the humans.
“Hello, Dean!” Luna said as she began hacking at the ropes again.
“You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth; tell the truth!”
Hermione screamed again; terribly, her vocal cords tearing.
“HERMIONE!”
“What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!”
“There!” Luna whispered.
Harry felt the ropes fall away and turned, rubbing his wrists to see Ron running around the dungeon, looking up at the low ceiling, searching for a trapdoor. Dean, his face bruised and bloody, said to Luna, “Thanks,” and then, shivering, turned to Ted Tonks, “You alright?” Ted, his nose clearly broken, tore a strip from his frayed and dirty coat to stem the flow of blood from his nose and nodded at Dean, “Aye. But that poor girl…” Griphook sank onto the stone floor, looking groggy and disoriented.
Freed from the bonds, Harry was reaching into his pocket one second and pulling out the mirror the next. But then a horrible realization struck him—he had no wand, none of them had a wand with which to tap the mirror and spark the two-way magical connection. Harry’s vision swam; his own contorted reflection staring back at him in horror.
“There’s no way out, Ron,” Luna said, watching Ron’s fruitless efforts, “The dungeon’s escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here a long time, he’s tried everything.”
Hermione was screaming again and the sound went through Harry like physical pain,
“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”
Hermione’s screams echoed off the walls upstairs and Ron was half-sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists.
Harry slowly put the mirror back into his pocket, swallowing and blinking hard. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe and chanted over and over: Sirius and Remus, please. We need you more than ever. Sirius and Remus, help us, help us, help us…
Hermione was screaming and Ron was bellowing “HERMIONE! HERMIONE!”
“How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the dungeon help you?”
“We only met him tonight! We’ve never been inside your vault—it isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”
“A copy? Likely!”
“But we can find out easily!” came the voice of Lucius Malfoy, “Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!”
Harry dashed across the dungeon to where Griphook was huddled on the floor, “Griphook,” he whispered, “you must tell them that the sword’s a fake, they mustn’t know that it’s the real one, Griphook, please—”
“Stand back!” Draco’s voice was coming from behind the dungeon door, and it was shaking, “Line up against the back wall. Don’t try anything or I’ll kill you!”
They did as they were bidden and Ron clicked the Deluminator, plunging the dungeon back into darkness. The door flew open and Draco stepped inside, wand held out in front of him, his sickly pale face determined. He seized the goblin by the arm and backed out again, dragging Griphook with him. The door slammed shut and just as Ron clicked the Deluminator, Harry fell to his knees.
It wasn’t his scar; which was still throbbing in sharp bursts.
It was a sensation he recognized from December…from when he had knelt over his parent’s grave in Godric’s Hollow and been close to wishing he himself was buried beneath the earth beside their bones…and he had felt as if a warm hand had lain itself against his chest. It had felt as if that comforting warmth had been saying: Hold on, just hold on…
Now it felt as if that warm hand was saying: Open. Open for me…
Harry inhaled sharply.
The voice was gruff, desperate and grating, but known. So well known.
Harry. Another familiar voice said, soft and clear. We are here. Let us in.
Harry knew what this magic was. What Sirius and Remus were attempting to do to break through the wards into the Manor.
It was what Regulus had done to send the Horcrux out of the cave to Sirius.
Open your heartand it will come to you, Regulus had told his older brother. If Harry opened his heart, could they come to him?
Harry was not sure he knew how. But he bowed over on that stone floor and reached for those two warm hands that he felt almost physically upon his heart…he reached for them, reached for those two men who called for him…he imagined their fingers inches from his…
Crack.
And Harry looked up to see Sirius and Remus standing in the dungeon, illuminated under the balls of light that came from within the Deluminator.
“YOU—!”
Harry hit Ron in the arm to stop him from shouting and then barreled into the two men, throwing his arms around them, “You came,” he whispered.
“O’ bloody ‘course we came,” Sirius said, squeezing Harry’s shoulder as Harry stepped back, looking up at his guardians in awe. Sirius’ eyes were burning in his face, both with pride and righteous fury.
“Although we couldn’t have gotten in without you,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling while his jaw flexed in his face.
“Merlin, am I glad to see you two,” Ted said around staunching the blood from his broken nose.
“P-professor Lupin?” Dean stammered, his mouth hanging open.
“Congratulations on the wedding, by the way,” Luna said brightly to the two men, who both blinked at her in surprise, “I didn’t get to say so at Bill and Fleur’s ceremony,” she added.
Dean gaped, his eyes darting between Sirius and Remus.
Ron opened his mouth but just then an awful scream drowned him out, emphasizing what he was going to say anyway: Hermione was being tortured.
Remus' and Sirius’ eyes flashed to the ceiling and then back to the assembled crowd around them.
“It’s Bellatrix,” Ron croaked, his eyes huge on the two men, “Bellatrix’s got Hermione.”
Sirius’ eyes became coals, a spark away from fire, and he looked up at Remus, who met Sirius’ gaze, Remus’ own eyes now flashing yellow as the sun. The air around Remus began to ripple and shimmer with faint electricity, the air within the dungeon becoming thick and cloying.
“Right,” Sirius barked lowly, “Remus and I can Apparate in and out now that we’re inside. I’ll take you all now, Remus’ll go upstairs to get Hermione and then I’ll come back to help him—”
“No!” Ron hissed, taking a huge step back from Sirius, “I’m not leaving without her!”
Sirius frowned, “This isn’t a debate—”
“I’m not leaving without Hermione either,” Harry said, quiet but firm. He met Sirius’ and Remus’ stares boldly, refusing to back down on this.
Sirius growled, “Right then,” he said and marched across the room, reaching Ollivander and taking one of the barely-conscious man’s hands in his, then holding out his other hand toward Dean, Ted, and Luna, neither of whom moved.
“We want to help!” Luna whispered.
“We can’t just leave!” Dean insisted.
“I can help,” Ted said, dropping his hand from his nose only for more blood to cover his mouth a moment later.
“You haven’t got any wands,” Sirius hissed, his voice grating, “You’ll just be in the way! Now get over here!”
Dean, Luna, and Ted hesitated a moment longer and Remus stepped forward and put a hand on Ted’s shoulder, “Andromeda and Nymphadora are waiting for you,” he whispered. He looked to Luna, “Your father misses you,” he said softly and then turned to Dean, “And your mother’s been searching for you.”
Frowning but nodding, Ted, Luna, and Dean caught hold of Sirius’ outstretched fingers.
Hermione wailed overhead and Bellatrix cackled just as Sirius, Ollivander, Luna, Dean, and Ted vanished with a crack.
Remus turned to Harry immediately, “Where’s Greyback?”
Ron’s eyes were on the ceiling, his mouth open but he did not shout this time as Harry answered, “In the ballroom, I think. Where Bellatrix and Hermione are. He wants Hermione when…” Harry couldn’t make himself finish.
Crack. Sirius materialized in the dungeon beside Remus.
“What was that?” Lucius Malfoy shouted overhead, “Did you hear that? What was that noise in the dungeon?”
“Draco—no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!”
The magic emanating from Remus took on a darker quality that Harry had not yet seen—the scent thicker and richer in the air, the waves of magic pulsing off of Remus’ were deeper tones of grey and gold than ever before in their faint light. Remus’ eyes flashed pure yellow.
Harry stammered, “We can’t kill him, Remus,” rushing forward, putting a hand on Remus’ wrist, trying to peel Remus’ eyes away from the ceiling.
But Remus’ eyes just stayed on the ceiling, and he did not speak. His magic grew so dense in the air that Harry felt his head swim. Remus' wand was limp in his hand; for it was secondary with all the magic wafting in the air around him, now at his disposal.
Harry turned to Sirius, “You mustn’t kill him…”
But Sirius just stared at the door, and then he stepped shoulder-to-shoulder with Remus, and raised his wand. Sirius’ arm was steady and sure; it did not shake. His sleeves were rolled up and veins of muscle were visible on his forearm, his dark eyes cold and gleaming all at once.
There were footsteps descending the stairs outside the door and Ron reached for the Deluminator.
“Leave the lights on,” Sirius said.
Harry stepped back, bumping into Ron, who was staring slack-jawed at Sirius and Remus.
Harry remembered what he had done in his Third Year, and how sparing Wormtail had ensured Sirius’ exoneration. It had made their new life together possible. But did Wormtail deserve a third chance? Had Harry prolonged the inevitable and now it was time for the man’s due?
Harry stared at his guardians. At the two men he loved the most in the world. He did not want to see them become killers any less than he did back when he was thirteen; in fact, even more so, now that he knew them and loved them so well.
Harry remembered Remus’ words on the destructive nature of revenge… but Remus and Sirius had not sought revenge on Wormtail. He had just landed right here in their laps…and he was a clear and present threat. Was it revenge, or a necessity?
On that vein…
What would Remus do, Harry wondered, when he got to Greyback?
And what would Harry do when he himself finally faced Voldemort?
“Stand back,” came the high voice of Wormtail from behind the dungeon door, “Stand away from the door, I’m coming in.”
The door flew open.
For a heartbeat, Wormtail stood in the threshold, his wand pointed in front of him at two men who stood equally ready to face him.
He was Wormtail, you see, and not Peter Pettigrew.
Because Peter had died too, that same night seventeen years ago when he had betrayed James and Lily and their son to Voldemort. When he had betrayed his best friends, and all that they had stood for. When he had betrayed every moment, every memory.
Peter had died when he had betrayed every story in which he featured alongside his school friends.
All that was left was Wormtail, and he stood in that doorway and stared with wide, watery eyes at his final damnation.
It had been coming a long time, and Wormtail could hardly say he was surprised. And for one split second Wormtail contemplated running again: transforming into the rat or Apparating away. But he had a Dark Mark now. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord tracked him down. There was really only one question: how did he want to go?
But it wasn't just a choice between a death at the hands of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black or a death at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
Wormtail's friends had never, ever beaten him in a game of Wizard's Chess. And Wormtail decided that neither they nor his Master would beat him in this final play either.
Near the back of the room, Harry could barely breathe—his whole body was a live wire, poised towards his guardians who, like him, appeared to not be breathing.
“What is it, Wormtail?” Lucius Malfoy called from above.
Wormtail’s eyes flashed from Sirius’ face to Remus’ face and then to Harry’s behind them. His mouth opened and he called out, “Nothing! The prisoners are desperate fools!”
Remus’ magic silently closed the dungeon door just as it pulled Wormtail inside.
And Sirius opened his mouth, but he was too late.
Wormtail’s wandtip was now pressed against the bottom of his own chin, his hand lacking its third finger was in clear view to them all…
“Desperate fools…” Wormtail squeaked, “Like me!”
And Remus’ magic had just reached Wormtail’s hand, began peeling his wand from his chin, just as Wormtail whispered the spell with conviction such as Sirius and Remus had not heard from the man since he was a teenager and had successfully won a game of Wizard’s Chess right out from under their noses.
“Avada Kedavra!”
At that same moment as the green light collided with Wormtail’s face, Hermione gave another dreadful scream overhead.
And Wormtail’s body, slowed by Remus’ magic, fell forward silently onto the stone dungeon floor, dead by his own Killing Curse.
Sirius was shaking—with hatred and outrage and shock—but Remus just reached for Sirius’ free hand, and slowly Sirius turned to look up at him. Something passed between them, something that felt like a deep exhale… and then Remus stepped forward and bent down, grabbing Wormtail’s wand from where it lay beside his self-mutilated hand.
It seemed Wormtail had always been one for harming himself to escape justice.
Remus turned back to Harry and Ron and silently tossed Wormtail’s wand to Ron, who caught it deftly. Remus then threw his own wand; Harry caught it, staring up at Remus in dismay.
“I don’t need it,” Remus said. He turned back to the doorway, tugging Sirius’ hand and pulling him with him.
Sirius stared back at Wormtail’s body as he and Remus stepped over his corpse, but as Harry and Ron rushed forward, Sirius’ eyes rose to meet Harry’s.
Harry felt himself shiver involuntarily at the grief and the pain, in Sirius’ eyes before Sirius’ face hardened with renewed resolve and he beckoned them all out of the dungeon, Remus leading the way.
They entered the shadowy passageway which led from the ballroom. Remus put a damper on his magic, tightening it around himself, and crept cautiously forward, Sirius at his flank, and Harry and Ron behind them as they reached the ballroom door, which was ajar. Inside, they had a clear view of Bellatrix looking down at Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor’s sword in his hands. Hermione was lying at Bellatrix’s feet; barely stirring.
Remus and Sirius stared at Hermione and Bellatrix—and Remus’ eyes flashed to the back of the room. There by the fireplace was Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, and….
Greyback.
Greyback stood with his arms crossed, smiling down at where Hermione lay. Remus’ grip on Sirius’ hand tightened. How to get her? How to get Greyback? How to best engage?
“Well?” Bellatrix said to Griphook, “Is it the true sword?”
Remus and Sirius froze. They had to know what the goblin would say...
Harry’s scar prickled as they all waited on baited breath.
“No,” Griphook answered, “It is a fake.”
“Are you sure?” Bellatrix panted, her chest heaving, “Quite sure?”
“Yes,” Griphook said.
Relief had flooded Bellatrix’s face and all tension drained from her, “Good,” she said and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed a deep cut across the goblin’s face. He dropped the sword with a yelp at her feet.
Sirius was whispering, "I'll take Lucius, you take Bellatrix and Greyback..."
“And now,” Bellatrix said, her voice laced with triumph, “we call the Dark Lord!”
She pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark before Sirius had finished speaking. And as Bellatrix Summoned her Master, Sirius’ blood ran cold with terror just as Harry’s scar felt as though it would split open.
Harry was Voldemort, and he was enraged at the summons he felt—he had told them to Summon him for nothing less than Potter and if they were mistaken…
“Kill me then!” demanded Grindelwald, “You will not win, you cannot win! That wand will never, ever be yours—”
And Voldemort’s fury broke. A burst of green light filled the prion room and the frail man’s body fell back, lifeless, and Voldemort returned to the window…
“And I think,” Bellatrix was saying, “we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her.”
Remus Lupin unleashed the damper on his magic as he strode out from behind the ballroom doors, “Not as long as I live.”
Greyback and Bellatrix looked up in shock as the storm of Remus’ magic collided with their bodies, throwing them into the air… Bellatrix lost her grip on her wand and it went flying across the room…and then Remus’ magic slammed them both down against the ballroom floor so hard that Greyback let out a whimper—a whimper—and Bellatrix went immediately unconscious and slack. Remus stepped toward Greyback, putting himself between Hermione and Greyback.
“STUPEFY!” Sirius roared, charging in behind Remus and hitting Lucius directly in the chest; Lucius collapsed against the hearth.
Jets of light flew from Narcissa and Draco’s wands as Ron and Harry barreled forward, Ron holding Wormtail’s wand and Harry holding Remus’—they had to dive to avoid being hit…Harry rolled on the polished black ballroom floor, so shiny he could see the spells flying over his head that he had to avoid…
"Expelliarimus!" Harry shouted as he jumped to his feet and Draco's wand flew through the air. Harry caught it with the reflex of a Seeker, and felt his heart thrill with the triumph.
Sirius was dueling Narcissa as Harry and Ron advanced on Draco, who was now running towards where Bellatrix's wand had fallen upon the floor—
Remus had reached Greyback, who lay prone on the ballroom floor before him, Remus’ storm cloud of magic gathered around Greyback—
“STOP OR SHE DIES!” Bellatrix screamed.
Harry and Ron froze; and oddly, so did Draco. Sirius’ wand remained raised at Narcissa, but they both had gone rigid. Remus’ magic was now a thick wall entrapping Greyback within it, and as he turned, back straight, Harry saw Remus register what had happened.
Self-loathing became etched into every line of Remus’ face. The yellow vanished from his eyes, which were wide and horror-struck.
Bellatrix was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione’s throat.
Every thought was written so clearly on Remus’ face:
He had chosen to focus his attention on Greyback; his mind and magic so intent on his personal vendetta that he had not realized that Bellatrix had feigned. She had not been unconscious—she had learned her way around his magic, having been trapped within it before, she had tricked him…
He had chosen revenge over reaching Hermione first. And now Bellatrix threatened to kill Hermione with a silver knife, the one thing Remus could not fight against.
“Drop your wands!” Bellatrix screeched, “And drop your filthy mongrel magic, werewolf!” She pressed the blade into Hermione’s throat and they all saw beads of blood appear there. Her eyes flashed to Remus and maniacal delight danced in her dark eyes. Lucius was Stupefied, Greyback was still entombed in Remus’ magic, Draco was staring at Harry and Ron, wandless and exposed, and Narcissa was staring open-mouthed at her sister.
And so, with Bellatrix’s attention briefly on Remus and no eyes on him, Sirius took advantage.
He’d always hated that chandelier especially. It was just so opulent. So many ridiculous crystals suspended over the heads of such abhorrent people and parties, lighting up their plans for genocide and dominance. It was the embodiment of all of the pure-blood families’ wealth—the Black’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestranges’—and it hung just above all of their vileness.
He flicked his wrist so quickly that not a single person caught it, not even Moony, who looked like he was going to eat himself alive with his own guilt and self-hatred.
Sirius would have none of that, and he would tell Moony so once they were all safe.
And they would be, Sirius knew, because his spell had done its work. There was an ominous creak and a soft jingling, and Bellatrix looked up in time to see the chandelier sway and drop—
She dropped Hermione and threw herself aside with a scream—
And Remus dove forward, his speed amplified by his werewolf abilities and he was crouched over Hermione and Griphook, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor—
And the chandelier crashed directly atop of Remus and upon the obsidian ballroom floor in an explosion of crystals and chains. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions, Sirius cast a non-verbal shield spell over Harry and Ron, running toward them and grabbing them as Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.
Greyback remained encased in that storm of Remus’ magic, but he was bellowing now…his fists slamming against the magical encasing, and with each tremor the sphere of magic buckled…
Harry’s scar was now blinding him with pain—he knew that they had moments, seconds, before Voldemort was with them…
Narcissa lunged forward, dragging Draco away as Bellatrix sprang to her feet, screeching in rage. Remus rose to his feet, lifting Hermione up to his chest with his preternaturally strong arms, his face and robes streaming with blood; Ron had sprinted forward and was at Remus’ side, his hands pressed to Hermione’s face, his eyes roaming over her wildly. Sirius and Harry ran forward—Harry grabbed Griphook with one hand and Sirius’s arm with the other.
Bellatrix shrieked in fury one more time, and then Harry and Griphook were yanked forward as Sirius lunged. As Sirius lunged toward Remus. But wait no…it was not toward Remus…Harry was towed forward as Sirius lunged in front of Remus—
Bellatrix’s silver knife flew through the air and hit Sirius directly in the chest, right below his heart.
Remus’ howl tore through the world and Harry did not even have to concentrate on Apparating as he clung to his godfather’s arm and Griphook’s hand because Remus’ magic had now come to encase them all. The ballroom spun and Harry felt Sirius jerk beneath his hand and even as his magic threw them into space, Remus let out a bone-chilling cry of anguish that echoed across the darkness.