Chapter 19
The portkey dropped them off in the bush just off a highway.
Savage cast a location spell. “Yep perfect. Just of the A382. The warehouse should be about half a mile north-east.”
Harry closed his eyes and felt out for magic in the air. Magic was always stronger in natural areas, but this area of Devon seemed so industrial that there was barely anything of note. He pushed his senses further. There. About two-three thousand feet ahead of them, an extremely powerful and darke ward stood erect, protecting the warehouse from anything the aurors may do.
The three made their way to the edge of the wards’ perimeter. Robards’ patronus – a rather large and intimidating brown bear – was waiting for them. “Work on the wards. Try to take them down without alerting them. They’re definitely inside.”
Harry swallowed nervously as the bear dissipated into a fine silvery mist. This was it. The last of the Death Eaters were on the other side of these wards. It was almost over. He reached out with his magic again and felt for the wards.
“Praesidium revelio,” Harry cast, revealing a large dark red shield. Harry blinked. Although it was plainly obvious that both were constructed of similar magic, these wards were entirely different from those at Hogwarts. Instead of defensive and protective like the one at Hogwarts, this was overtly offensive. Harry could feel the malignant magic radiating off it deep in his gut.
Closing his eyes again, he reached for the links that he knew were present. “Conterum nexum,” Harry muttered, dragging the elder wand in a large circle. He could hear Savage and Proudfoot casting the same thing. Harry reached forward with his magic and started breaking the links at the top of the shield. “Argutus,” he chanted, hoping that by breaking each of the links individually, the death eaters wouldn’t have a clue that someone was bringing down the wards.
All of a sudden, he felt Cragg’s magic on top of his. Harry paused, trying to figure out what the man was doing. His magic swept over the links Harry had been breaking, reconnecting them. He frowned. Surely this was the opposite of what they were trying to achieve? Harry pressed into the magic and observed these new links. Unlike the previous ones, these instead seemed to be largely for show, with a mild protective layer. Anyone underneath these wards would be able to heal much quicker from spell damage than they otherwise would. Harry supposed that, while this would make the Death Eaters recover quickly from whatever they cast at them, so too would his team. Fortunately, the brilliant part of Cragg’s plan meant that there were still wards above the warehouse, and thus, those inside shouldn’t be able to feel a difference.
Harry smiled and went back to casting. “Conterum nexum. Argutus.” He worked in tandem with Cragg, but soon realised that Cragg was working quicker than he was. Harry frowned and holstered his wand. Closing his eyes, he willed each of the links to snap quietly. Subtly. He felt a hum of approval flow through Cragg’s magic. He worked in sections, and, in no time at all, the team had managed to bring down and replace the wards over the warehouse.
Harry shook a few sweat-drenched strands of hair from his eyes as Robards’ bear reappeared.
“On my count,” the bear said. “3, 2, 1.”
Harry kept his wand sheathed, and marched forward with Savage and Proudfoot. As soon as they passed the barrier of the wards, Harry felt a ripple of Cragg’s protective magic envelop him and sighed in relief.
Proudfoot let out a grin at Harry’s reaction. “Feels better than a butterbeer on a freezing day, doesn’t it?”
Savage rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the way you talk about Cragg’s magic is way too similar to the way a fifteen-year-old talks about his first blowjob. It makes everybody uncomfortable.”
“It’s warm and loving and feels like the end of the world but also the beginning of everything,” Proudfoot began while Savage made gagging sounds. Harry grinned, the adrenaline pumping through his body as they approached the warehouse.
Suddenly, a shout was heard and a flash of red light expanded from the warehouse.
Robards’ bear appeared again. “They know we’re here.”
“Thanks, Robards, totally couldn’t have figured that out ourselves,” Savage said sarcastically, rolling up her sleeves and revealing a sleeve of moving tattoos on her left arm.
Proudfoot unholstered his wand. “Bombarda Maxima,” he cast on the rolling door of the warehouse, watching with satisfaction as it exploded.
“Subtlety’s not your speciality, is it?” Harry commented drily.
“Nope,” Proudfoot laughed, taking the lead as they jogged into the building.
The eruption of debris filled the entrance hall and steps with smoke. The entrance was clear, but Harry couldn’t see inside. This was it.
The three made their way inside. Harry could hardly see five feet in front of him, due to the cloud of dust that had enveloped the room. Keeping close to the wall, they advanced slowly, stopping as they reached a body.
“Goyle Sr.,” Savage confirmed when he toed over the body. He’d been standing by the door when it blew; he would have been killed instantly. Leaving the body, they crept forward, emerging from the dust to the main hall of the warehouse. There were piles of clothing in separate corners, clearly being used as makeshift beds. A kettle was plugged in at an outlet and Harry almost laughed at the concept of Death Eaters taking tea. He would have made a comment, maybe, but the image of Goyle’s cold body was front and centre in his mind. Where were the other Death Eaters? The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Harry, Proudfoot and Savage made their way to the staircase and ran up quickly, keeping their backs to the wall as they approached a closed door.
At Proudfoot’s nod, Harry opened the door just enough to peek through with a flick of his hand. At first glance, the room seemed empty, and Harry was about to push the door further open, but Savage caught his hand.
Harry followed her eyes, and noticed a thread pulling taught. A booby trap of some kind. He sliced the thread in half, and pushed the door open gently. Perched on a table next to the door was a Magical Incendiary Device, which no doubt was filled with some sort of poisoned gas. Proudfoot caught on to his thinking, and quickly performed a modified bubble head charm on all three of them.
They slipped quietly inside the room, which was dimly lit with a column of light from a sunlight overhead, illuminating a large circle in the centre of the room, but leaving menacing shadows around the edge of the room. Again, the room appeared silent and empty. Harry’s breathing felt dangerously loud, his heart pounding in his chest. A shiver of – excitement? anxiety? anticipation? – ran down his spine. The door slammed shut behind them. They were trapped.
Harry, Proudfoot and Savage instinctively formed a small triangle, keeping their backs to each other as they eyed the room for signs of life. Harry was about to cast a lumos, hyper-aware of the shadows creeping in around him, but light was shortly provided.
A line of fire started at the far end of the room and snaked along each wall, coming towards them. Then, there was a soft whoosh as the two trails of fire joined at the door behind them, effectively sealing them inside. The flames danced threateningly up the wall, crackling softly, and providing light to every corner of the room. Fiendfyre. Harry’s stomach flipped.
Suddenly, several white masks appeared out of the darkness. The Death Eaters appeared from the shadows, converging on the aurors. Three on Three. Where were the rest of them?
“Harry Potter,” one of the Death Eaters – Jugson, probably – spat. “Aren’t you a bit young to be an auror?”
“Isn’t your master a bit dead to be a Death Eater?” Harry asked. It wasn’t his best line, but he was under pressure.
“What’s your plan, Jugson?” Proudfoot spoke up. “There’s only six - no, five of you left. What do you possibly think you can achieve?”
The death eater grinned as he ripped off his mask. “There are others,” he said, his teeth glinting in the light of the fiendfyre. “There will always be another war.”
The Death Eater to Jugson’s left was holding the fiendfyre, Harry realised. Something about the way he held himself reminded Harry of someone.
“I hope you can hold fiendfyre better than your son, Crabbe,” Harry said. It was a low blow. It felt wrong to mock his son’s death, no matter who his son was. He couldn’t imagine losing Teddy. Still, he needed to end this stalemate.
The man growled and turned his attention to Harry. “Don’t talk about my son, Potter,” he said angrily, dropping the fiendfyre and shooting a stunner at Harry. “Stupefy!”
Harry blocked it easily and sent one back with a glance. “Now!” he said to the others. He heard shouts of other spells and duels behind him as they engaged in battle. The air was soon thick with spells, and Harry soon found himself duelling with both Crabbe and Jugson.
He raised his shield in plenty of time to block a curse from Jugson before diving backwards to avoid an AK from the other. He landed deftly on his feet, before sending a Paralysing curse at the legs of Crabbe. The man conjured a small shield, batting it away to the side. Harry, engaged with Jugson, didn’t notice the AK that Crabbe shot until it was too late to cast a shield.
“AK!” Harry shouted, letting the other two know there was a loose Killing Curse in the air, as he flung himself to the ground. He rolled and was back on his feet in time to send another curse at each of the Death Eaters. Both sidestepped easily. Crabbe aimed the Cruciatus Curse at Harry while Jugson caused half of the wall to Harry’s right to shoot forward. Harry sidestepped the Unforgivable easily, but that put him in the path of the incoming chunk of concrete.
“Reducto,” Harry roared. The curse blew the wall to smithereens and then continued on to blow a three-foot hole in the ceiling, showering Crabbe with chunks of plaster. Jugson took the opportunity to send another AK in Harry’s direction, who summoned a chunk of the broken wall into the path of the curse. As it exploded, Harry charged forward, shield raised.
He surged ahead, sidestepping the next curse and allowing his shield to absorb the impact of the following one with a loud gong-like noise. He saw Crabbe draw his wand back, ready to cast another Unforgivable.
“Avada…”
Harry’s shoulder slammed into the waist of the Death Eater. As they tumbled to the ground, Harry felt the man lose his grip on his wand. Harry grabbed it without pause. Turning his own wand on the man, he rolled away, back onto his feet. He ducked a stray curse flying overhead, before casting an extremely powerful stunner and incarcerous on Crabbe.
“Crucio!”
Harry didn’t even have time to acknowledge his victory over Crabbe, before Jugson unleashed another Unforgivable at him. Harry dived backwards, landing painfully on a piece of debris from the wall. He sat up and hurled a few attacks at the Death Eater. They weren’t specific spells or curses or hexes, but they hit the man hard. Before he could recover, Harry leapt to his feet and cast a paralysing curse at him. It hurtled towards Jugson, who blocked it easily and responded instantly with a curse of his own. They exchanged curses at a phenomenal rate, which would have even stressed the reflexes of Viktor Krum. As soon as Harry blocked one attack, there was another on the way. It soon seemed he hadn’t managed an offensive spell in ages.
Just then, Jugson shot a blasting curse at Harry. He instinctively ducked and the curse rocketed above him. The curse blew the wall apart, the force of it knocked Harry off his feet. He found himself flat on his face in the rubble. He tried to get back up, but then, to his horror, a heavy boot slammed down on his wand arm, pinning it down. He looked up to see a wand pointe at his noise. The Death Eater stood over him, glaring down, malice flashing in his eyes.
Harry growled. He was done trying to fight clean. Closing his eyes, he willed Jugson’s wand to drop. Catching it deftly, Harry used the man’s momentary surprise to roll to his feet. Harry levelled the wand at the man’s face. Crucio. Harry thought.
The man let out an unholy scream as he dropped to the floor. Just then, Harry heard the others – Robards, Cragg, Elfie and Kai – finally breach the door. Harry wasn’t paying attention, though. Crucio, he thought again.
The man screamed in agony and writhed in place.
“Harry!” somebody was shouting. He felt an arm on his elbow. “It’s over. Stop.”
Harry paused and let out a breath. Turning around wildly, he saw Savage. He gulped. He hadn’t meant to do that. Hadn’t meant to lose control, and certainly hadn’t meant to cast another Unforgivable.
He sighed and stunned Jugson before tying him up.
“Where’s Proudfoot?” he asked, his voice rough and scratchy.
Savage had a large cut just beneath her hairline and blood was dripping down the side of her face. “Took a bombarda to the chest. They’re taking him to Mungo’s. He’ll be fine.”
“What happened?” Harry asked, turning to Robards accusingly.
“Couldn’t get in. Bastards had this place down like lock and key. Lestranges caught up to us. Both got away,” Robards said roughly. Harry’s stomach flipped. “What was all that just then?” Robards asked, just as accusingly.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He could have easily stunned and tied up Jugson without using the Cruciatus curse. He glanced down at the wand still clutched in his hand. He hadn’t used the Elder Wand to cast it, either. With a few cursory checks, the Ministry could easily confirm that he’d used an Unforgivable. He glanced up at Robards.
Robards sighed and grabbed the wand. “Aufer priori incantatem.” He glanced up at Harry, who nodded, and rolled his eyes and cast the spell again. “I don’t know that spell,” Robards said firmly. “You don’t know that spell.”
Harry nodded quickly. For someone who had spent most of his life angry at the Ministry’s corruption, he was certainly very quickly getting comfortable with it. Hypocrite, the Hermione-like voice sounded in his mind.
Robards levitated the bodies of Jugson, Crabbe, and Avery – absolutely wrecked by Proudfoot and Savage – and left Harry and Savage to be fussed over by two medi-witches.
By the time Harry returned to Grimmauld Place, Ron took one look at his face before pulling him into a hug.
“I smell like blood,” Harry warned. “And sweat.”
Ron shrugged and wrapped his arms around him anyway. “You often do. Still need a hug sometimes.”
Hermione walked in, holding Teddy in her arms. “Oh Harry. How did it go?”
Harry pulled away from Ron regretfully. “Lestrange brothers got away. We got the rest, but Goyle was dead when we got there.”
“Poor Neville. I was hoping we could give him some good news tonight,” Hermione commented. Harry groaned. He’d completely forgotten that he’d agree to go out with everybody tonight. He’d been hoping to spent a quiet night in with Teddy.
“Don’t groan; it’ll be fun,” Ron said. “We all need to get out of the house.”
Hermione grinned. “Plus, Malfoy will be there.”
Harry sighed, not even acknowledging that last comment. “I know. Is Molly alright to take Teddy?”
“Obviously. She loves that kid more than me,” Ron said grinning.
Harry wandered upstairs to have a shower. As he passed the place where Walburga Black’s portrait used to hang, Harry shuddered. He couldn’t wait to get out of this house.
As he let the water run over his body, washing away the blood and dust and grime and dirt of the day’s fight, Harry tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking. A medi-witch had told him he had a mild concussion. That was the only reason he’d cast the Unforgivable. He was distracted. Wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t turning dark. Not really.
When Harry returned to his living room, he was treated to the sight of Draco Malfoy very carefully cradling Teddy in his arms as he spoke quietly to Hermione. Harry stood still and just watched, knowing he should make his presence known, but enchanted by the sight of his once-enemy – now friend? – war hardened, posh, stoic, Draco Malfoy, very gently, very carefully rocking his godson back and forth. It was the first time Harry had seen the man interact with the baby, and, although he looked highly uncomfortable, Harry couldn’t help but think Draco looked incredibly attractive standing in Harry’s living room, holding Harry’s godson, wearing incredibly tight black jeans.
“Oh good, you’re ready,” Hermione said, noticing Harry. “Ron and I are going to drop off Teddy. Can you side-along with Draco? You have a concussion and I don’t want you apparating on your own.”
Hermione knew perfectly well that Harry was more than capable of apparating with a full head wound, but from the smirk that Ron was barely concealing, he knew it was part of her PlanTM to get Harry to ask Malfoy out.
Harry rolled his eyes but agreed readily, not going to pass up an opportunity to get closer to the blond.
“Hermione told me you got Avery, Jugson, Crabbe and Goyle,” Malfoy said.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s definitely confidential,” he said.
Draco shrugged. “She thought I might want to warn Goyle about his dad.”
“Do you want to stop by his place?” Harry asked, mentally kicking himself for not even considering Goyle.
Malfoy gave him a distinctly weird look. “I didn’t think you’d want to do that. I sent him a letter. He’ll probably want to grieve alone tonight, anyway. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Okay. You sure you still want to come tonight?”
“Trying to get rid of me, Potter?” Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ron slapped Malfoy on the back, before collecting Teddy from his arms. “Harry’s just trying to get out of having fun for once.”
“Come on then, Potter. Let’s go have some fun,” Malfoy said, proffering his arm for Harry to take. Harry hesitated for only a moment, before clutching his arm.
“See you later boys,” Hermione said, stepping into the floo.
Ron followed her with Teddy. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he called as he disappeared.
Harry felt his face flush bright, but Malfoy was apparating before he could say anything, their bodies leaving Grimmauld Place with a loud CRACK.