Casualties of war
Ron’s face is darkened by soot and the tips of his red hair is singed, lending a certain dramatic effect to the glare on his face as he stares Malfoy down. The blonde’s face pales further, but he says nothing. Harry glances at him through the corner of his eye and notices the way he seems to inch closer to Goyle’s unconscious body as if seeking comfort from a familiar source, and Harry almost feels bad for him… almost…
Then he remembers how Crabbe had cast the Killing Curse at both Hermione and Ron, before summoning the demonic fire creatures that almost killed them all, and his sympathy cools down considerably.
”Harry, what’s that on your arm?” Hermione says, flicking her own singed hair out of her blackened face and gingerly gets to her feet.
Harry looks down at the diadem still hanging from his wrist and holds it up; it’s blackened with soot as well, but if he looks closely he can still make out the words etched into the metal: Wit beyond measure, is man’s greatest treasure
Suddenly a black, thick substance starts leaking from the diadem, as though it’s bleeding, and with a violent shudder the whole thing breaks apart in his hand — Harry hears a faint howling, but he’s not sure if it comes from the diadem itself or from his connection to Voldemort’s mind…
”It must have been fiendfyre”, Hermione gasps, staring at the pieces of the diadem. ”Cursed fire — it’s one of the substances that destroys Horcruxes — but I would never have dared use it, it’s too dangerous… How did Crabbe know how to —?”
”Learned it from the Carrows, maybe?” Harry says and shrugs uncomfortably, aware of Malfoy listening in on their conversation.
”Shame he wasn’t concentrating enough to learn how to stop it”, Ron says bitterly.
”But don’t you realise —?” Hermione says. ”This means — if we can just get the snake —”
Harry gives her a warning look and gives a minute shake of his head. Voldemort already knows what they’re up to, destroying his Horcruxes, but there’s no reason why they should reveal their entire strategy to Draco Malfoy… Hermione glances at the blonde and then nods quickly.
”We should get going”, she suggests.
Just then, the unmistakable noises of duelling filters into the temporary quiet of the corridor, and Harry realises with a sickening jolt that the battle is going on all around them… and not only that, but Death Eaters has managed to penetrate the Protective Enchantments and entered the castle.
Fred and Percy back into view from around the nearest corner, both duelling masked and hooded men; Harry raises his wand again and runs towards them to help, Ron and Hermione following closely. Jets of light are flying everywhere, bouncing off the walls and ceiling.
The Death Eater duelling Percy backs off when Harry, Ron and Hermione thunder onto the scene, but stumbles and trips, causing his hood to slip off, revealing his streaked hair…
”Hello, Minister!” Percy exclaims and sends a jinx right at Thickenesse who promptly drops his wand. ”Did I mention I’m resigning?”
”You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouts as the Death Eater he’s been duelling with keels over, and he turns to look at his older brother in delight. ”You actually are joking! Wow, Percy, I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were —”
”NO —!” Percy howls suddenly, startling them all.
Harry sees the glint of laughter in Percy’s eyes flare into a spark of horror and stares transfixed as the older Weasley throws himself at Fred who, in a moment when it had seemed as though both Death Eaters had been rendered harmless, let his guard down to turn to Percy and thus missed the slow but determined wand movement of the crumpled Death Eater at his feet; Fred’s eyes widen in alarm as Percy crashes into him — the jet of green light soaring towards them — and the both of them flies through the air and hits the stone wall with crunch before sprawling together on the floor …
”No — no — no —!” Percy babbles hysterically as he scrambles to his knees and starts shaking the lifeless form of his brother. ”No! Fred! No —!”
Harry’s knees buckle under him and he sinks to the floor, watching in mute terror as Percy collapses on top of Fred with tears streaming down his face… No, he thinks. No, he can’t be dead, not Fred… not Fred…
Ron staggers over in a daze and kneels down next to his brothers, his hands reaching out as if acting on their own accord and pawing at Fred’s face and chest as if to convince himself that he’s real and not some horrible vision… Harry is reminded of Mrs Weasley’s boggart… His stomach churns and he sends a Stunning Spell towards the Death Eater automatically when he stirs again, but he barely even sees him…
Hermione is standing a few feet away, staring at the Weasley brothers with her shaking hands pressed to her mouth. She glides over the stone floor as if in a trance and kneels down next to Ron who has now started shaking from the strain of not breaking down. She lets her hands slide down his arms to cover his, clearly attempting to offer comfort and at the same time gently guide his fists away from Fred’s neck where they’d been kneading the flesh almost aggressively…
Harry can tell immediately when Hermione discovers it — her entire body goes rigid and she frowns at Fred’s bruised neck — and shoving Ron aside non-too-gently, she replaces his hands on Fred’s neck with her own, eyes flickering restlessly as she concentrates…
When she lets out a surprised gasp, Harry’s heart skips a beat and he stumbles over to his friends.
”He’s got a pulse!” Hermione exclaims. ”He’s got a pulse!”
”Wh— what —?” Percy hiccoughs and blinks at her through his swollen eyes. ”A p- pulse —?”
”Yes!” she hisses excitedly. ”The Curse must have missed him, after all. He’s still alive, just unconscious!”
”What?” Percy and Ron say together.
”He must have just hit his head”, Hermione says and beams at them. ”He’s going to be all right!”
Percy lets out a strangled sob and throws himself over Fred again, hugging him close as he continues to cry, but now from relief rather than grief.
Suddenly the air explodes around them. Harry is knocked off his feet and feels himself flying through the air. He grips the wand tightly in his hand, his only means of defense. He hears Hermione and Malfoy scream in unison as the debris from the blasted-apart wall rains down on them. Harry curls up in mid-air and lands hard on the stone floor. Scrambling again to his feet, vaguely aware of a sharp pain in his side and his ankle snapping painfully under his weight, he stares at the enormous hole in the wall through which a gigantic spider is crawling.
Ron and Harry shout together, their spells colliding and blasting the monster backwards through the hole again. But Harry’s relief is short-lived, as he remembers that there is literally hundreds of more Acromantula where the first one came from, having narrowly escaped them alive in his Second Year.
”Let’s go!” he yells and seizes Fred by the legs. ”NOW!”
Percy realises what he’s trying to do and hurriedly links his arms around Fred’s torso and helps Harry carry his unconscious body into a nische where they leave him under a Disillusionment Charm until they can come back for him.
Percy wipes the tears and sweat from his face with a shaking hand, then raises his wand and glares darkly into the distance, ”Rookwood!”
Before Harry has had a chance to react, Percy has shoves him aside and is pelting down the corridor in pursuit of the Death Eater who had come so close to claiming his brother’s life, ”ROOKWOOD!”
”Harry!” Hermione screams. ”Let’s go!”
Harry wheels around and spots his two friends at the top of a marble staircase at the other end of the collapsed corridor. At first it looks as though they’re locked in a heated embrace again, but as Harry approaches them he sees that Hermione has got her arms around Ron in order to restrain him and that the redhead is struggling against her, his face red and his eyes dark, ”Let — go — I wanna kill Death Eaters —!”
”Listen, Ron — LISTEN!” Hermione exclaims. ”We’re the only ones that can end it, please, Ron, we can’t lose focus now — we have to kill the snake —!”
Harry knows how Ron must be feeling, knowing that his entire family is fighting to the death all around them and not being able to jump in and aid them. Harry feels on edge himself after everything that’s just happened, his limbs twitchy with residual adrenaline and his mind whirring faster than ever.
”We will fight!” Hermione says. ”We’ll have to — to reach the snake — but let’s not lose sight now of what we’re supposed to be doing, we’re so close!”
Ron stops struggling against her, but remains rigid with tension in her arms, eyes still fixed on a point in the distance where Rookwood had disappeared, Percy hot on his heels.
”Harry”, Hermione snaps. ”You’ll have to find out where Voldemort is, because he’ll have the snake with him, won’t he? So, do it — look inside him!”
Maybe it’s because his scar has been burning for hours, Voldemort’s mind pulling at his own and weighing on the connection between them, or maybe it’s because Voldemort is so close to him, but Harry has but to close his eyes and he is right there: He is standing in a run-down but familiar room with peeling wallpaper and boarded-up windows…
The sounds of the battle can be heard faintly in the distance, but this room is eerily quiet save for the occasional creaking floorboard as he slides from one side of the room to the other, rolling his wand meditatively between his fingers as he thinks of the secret Room in the castle that only he has ever found, a Room that — like the Chamber of Secrets — only reveals itself to those with cunning and curiousity and exceptional power…
He is confident that the boy will not be able to find the diadem. Although he has to admit, albeit to himself only, that Dumbledore’s little puppet has come much further than he had every expected… too far…
”My Lord”, a voice speeks and even though it’s barely above a whisper it cracks pitifully, he turns slowly and studies the crumpled form of Lucius Malfoy coldly. ”My Lord… please… my son…”
”If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter finally?”
”No — never”, Malfoys whispers.
”You must hope not”, he says quietly.
”Aren’t — aren’t you afraid, my Lord, that Potter might die at another’s hand?” Malfoy says, trying to be smooth but his voice keeps shaking, ruining the effect. ”Would it not be more prudent to — forgive me — call off the battle, and enter the castle to s-seek the boy yourself —?”
He smiles coldly, and says nothing until Malfoy ducks his head and averts his gaze.
”Do not pretend, Lucius”, he sneers. ”You only wish this battle to end so that you might discover what has happened to your son… I do not need to seek out Potter. He will come to me before the night is over…”
He looks down at the wand in his hand and frowns… it is troubling him… he must make sure, before Potter shows up… he must be ready…
”Lucius, go and fetch Snape.”
”Snape, m- my Lord?”
”Snape, yes. Now. I need him…”
Malfoy gingerly hoists himself to his feet, carrying himself carefully as though sporting several injuries and scurries out of the room.
”Yes, it is most unfortunate, Nagini — but it is the only way”, he says and turns to look at the snake, now suspended in mid-air inside the glitterly protective sphere he has created for her.
With a gasp, Harry pulls himself out of Voldemort’s mind and back to the corridor where Ron and Hermione is watching him anxiously.
”He’s in the Shrieking Shack”, Harry says. ”The snake is there with him, it’s got some kind of magical protection around it and — and — ” Harry swallows thickly past the lump in his throat. ”He just sent Lucius Malfoy to get Severus… Said he needed him…”
”That can’t be good”, Ron murmurs darkly.
The lump in Harry’s throat swells and he shakes his head. No, he thinks. It can’t be good, not if even Voldemort feels bad about it…
”I have to —!” he mutters and whirls around to start running, but Ron grabs a hold of his arm and stops him. ”What—? Let go, Ron! I have to get there before —!”
”No”, Ron says seriously. ”That’s what he wants, that’s what he expects. You stay here and look after Hermione and I’ll go to the Shack —”
”You two stay here and I’ll go under the Cloak —” Harry counters.
”No”, Hermione cuts in. ”It makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and —”
”Don’t even think about it”, Ron snarls at her.
Hermione’s eyes flash furiously and she squares her shoulders, but doesn’t get any further than ”Ron, I’m just as capable” before the tapestry on the wall next to them is pulled aside to reveal two Death Eaters coming through the hidden passageway, ”POTTER!”
They both raise their wands, but before they’ve managed to formulate a curse, Hermione has pointed her own wand at the stairs and shouted ”Glisseo!”
The stairs flatten into a chute and Harry, Ron and Hermione hurl themselves down it, the Death Eaters curses flying over their heads. They fly through another tapestry at the end of the stairs and Hermione spins around on the floor and pointing her wand at it she shouts ”Duro!”
There are two loud, sickening crunches as the tapestry turns to stone and the two Death Eaters pursuing them crash into it on the other side.
”Get back!” Ron yells and the three of them flatten themselves against the wall just in time to avoid being stampeded by a herd of galloping desks, shepherded by a sprinting Professor McGonagall shouting at them to ”Charge!”
Harry gets the Invisibility Cloak out and they huddle together underneath it. Their feets are visible, due to Ron’s size, but Harry doubts anyone will notice… They thunder down another staircase, then weave through what can only be described as a battle field of duelling wizards and witches, the teachers, students and Order members encouraged and applauded by the many portraits lining the walls, and ducking aside just in time to avoid one of the Snargaluff pods that Peeves the Poltergeist was pelting at the Death Eaters, they make for the top if the large marble staircase leading into the Entrance Hall.
The familiar white-blonde head of Draco Malfoy can be seen at the upper landing of the staircase where he’s cowering before another masked Death Eater, ”I’m Draco Malfoy, I’m Draco, I’m on your side —!”
Harry sends a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater without breaking his stride. Malfoy sags with relief then looks around, beaming, for a glimpse of his saviour — Ron punches him in the face from under the Cloak — Malfoy falls back and sprawls on top of the stunned Death Eater, looking utterly bemused as he covers his bleeding mouth with a trembling hand.
”And that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” Ron yells over his shoulder.
They skid over the last landing and take the remaining stairs two at a time. Ron continues to grumble about Malfoy being a two-faced coward.
”He didn’t have a wand”, Harry says, panting. ”How else was he going to defend himself against that Death Eater —?”
”No, no way”, Ron says promptly. ”Snape I can deal with — but you won’t get me to feel any sympathy for Malfoy!”
”Fine”, Harry mutters, because he honestly doesn’t care one way or the other, especially now… They jump off the staircase and run across the Entrance Hall, dodging jets of light and flying debris. Harry resists the temptation to dip into Voldemort’s mind again to see if Severus has reached him; there is no time, they need to get to the Shrieking Shack, need to get there before Severus… before it’s too late…
”NO!” Hermione screams and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback is thrown backwards from the feebly stirring body of… Lavender Brown, Harry realises with nauseating jolt… Greyback hits the marble banister and falls to the floor, but within seconds he is struggling to his feet again, fresh blood dripping from his leering mouth as he stalks towards them —
Then, with a bright white flash and a deafening crack, a crystal ball falls through the air and smashes into the top of his head and he crumples to the floor once more, except this time he doesn’t move.
”And there are plenty more where that came from!” Professor Trelawny shouts from over the banisters, her shawls hanging off her like wilted flower petals and her glasses askew, making only one of her eyes magnified as opposed to both.
As they watch she heaves another enormous crystal ball into the air and then steers it with her wand, causing it to smash through a window.
”Come on!” Harry says and continues to run towards the doors.
They stumble out into the chilly night air. But something is wrong, Harry realises almost immediately. The air is way too cold and it seems to reach into his very heart, turning his blood to ice in his veins. There’s something off about the darkness as well, it’s too dark…
No stars, he realises with a pang… Dementors!
”Harry, come on”, Hermione whispers urgently. ”Patronuses, Harry, come on!”
Harry grips his wand tighter and raises it, but there is a weight in his chest. He feels numb with cold. What’s the point anyway? he thinks. Voldemort has got the Elder Wand. There is no way I’ll be able to beat him. People are dying… People are dying i vain, and it’s all my fault… Severus might die at any moment, he might be getting tortured by Voldemort right now, and there’s nothing I can do about it…
But — no, wait —
At the thought of Severus, some warmth seeps back into Harry’s chest, not a lot but enough; his mind clears… Severus is in danger, I have to get to him, I have to save him — It is not too late, not yet! — I would have felt it if Voldemort had killed him already, I would know!
Severus is still alive, Harry thinks and raises his wand, ”Expecto Patronum!”
The Dementors scatter as Harry’s stag charges them along with Ron’s terrier and Hermione’s otter, and Harry experiences a sensation similar to walking out of a heavily air-conditioned room and out into the garden on a sweltering summer’s day. The stars are re-lit above their heads and air whooshes unhindered into Harry’s lungs again, making him a little light-headed.
”Come on”, he croaks. ”The Whomping Willow…”
He sprints across the lawn, heading in the direction of Hagrid’s hut, Ron and Hermione close behind. When he finally reaches the big Willow, he stops to catch his breath just out of reach from the swiping branches and strains his eyes peering through the darkness, trying to make out the knot in the bark of the old tree that, when pressed, paralyses it.
”How — how’re we going to get in —?” Ron pants. ”I can — see the place — if we just had — Crookshanks here —”
”Crookshanks”, Hermione wheezes, bent double and clutching her side. ”Are you a wizard, or what?”
”Oh — right — yeah —” Ron looks around quickly and spotting a twig on the ground he directs his wand at it and says, ”Wingardium Leviosa”
The twig zips past the swaying branches of the Willow and jabs at a place near its roots, and at once the tree stills.
Harry hurtles forward and enters into the earthy passage hidden amongst the tree roots; it’s a much tighter fit this time around than the last time he tried it in Third Year, but he manages to wriggle himself into the tunnel. Nearly four years ago when he and Hermione had made the trek, they had had to walk doubled-over, but now there’s nothing for it but to crawl… Harry sighs, uncomfortably aware of the quickly passing seconds, minutes… He lights his wand and holds it out in front of him, then starts to crawl.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the tunnel begins to slope upwards and Harry can see a sliver of light ahead. His heart is hammering so hard in his chest he’s sure the other must be able to hear it.
”Harry”, Hermione whispers and tugs a little at his ankle. ”The Cloak! Put on the Cloak!”
Harry struggles for a minute with the slippery material, but finally manages to cover himself.
”Nox”, he whispers and continues to crawl silently up the slope.
He can hear muffled voices coming from the room directly ahead, where the opening at the end of the tunnel has been blocked by an old crate. Holding his breath, Harry edges right up to it and peers through a tiny gap between the crate and the wall.
The room is dimly lit by an old storm lantern, just like he saw in his vision earlier. He can see Nagini twisting and curling gracefully inside her protective sphere… and he can see the edge of a table upon which a white, almost skeletal hand is resting, twirling the Elder Wand between its’ fingers…
”— my Lord”, Severus dark voice murmurs suddenly and Harry’s heart lurches; Severus is standing right next to the crate behind which Harry is hiding, he is right there, ”Their resistance is crumbling…”
”And it is doing so without your help”, the cold voice of Voldemort whispers calmly. ”Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much of a difference now. We are almost there… almost.”
”Let me find the boy”, Severus says. ”Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.”
Harry grips the wand tighter in his hand, to reassure himself that it’s still in his hand. He can hear the pulsing, whooshing sound of his own blood as it continues to pump through his veins, like holding up a shell to your ear and hearing the ghost of the sea… His mind has gone numb, hollow; there are no thoughts, merely fragments like No and Please and SeverusSeverusSeverus
”I have a problem, Severus”, Voldemort says softly.
”My Lord?”
Voldemort holds up the Elder Wand delicately, ”Why doesn’t it work for me, Severus?”
In the heavy silence that follows, cold dread settles in the pit of Harry’s stomach as he begins to realise… He remembers sitting in Luna’s house listening to Hermione as she read the story of The Three Brothers… He remembers Ollivander telling him about the legendary Death Stick, the most powerful wand of all time — the Elder Wand — that has passed from wizard to wizard, leaving a trail of blood behind it…
Oh God, he thinks. No. Severus —
As if reading his mind, Hermione scrambles with her wand and before Harry has opened his mouth to — what, he isn’t really sure, but to warn Severus somehow… But he can’t, because with a whispered ”Silencio” Hermione has rendered him voice-less and he can only mouth silently as Severus moves from his place next to the crate and cautiously approaches the table and Voldemort…
”Me — my Lord?” Severus says blankly. ”I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”
”No”, Voldemort says softly. ”I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand… No. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”
Harry’s scar starts to throb with pain as Voldemort speaks, the only thing alerting Harry to the calm fury that has begun to simmer under the cool exterior.
”No difference…”
Severus says nothing. Harry wonders if he knows, if he can sense the danger he is in… Voldemort stands up slowly and beginds to move around the room as he continues to speak in the same measured voice that gives away nothing of his building fury, but Harry feels it, feels it like a painful weight in his mind and heart… ”I have thought long and hard, Severus… Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?”
”No, my Lord, but I beg you to let me return. Let me find Potter.”
”You sound like Lucius… neither of you understand Potter as I do. He does not need finding. He will come to me. You see, I know his weakness… Potter will not be able to stand watching all those people die, knowing it is because of him. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come… But it is you I wish to talk about, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.”
”My Lord knows I seek only yo serve him — but let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you, I know I can —”
”I have told you, no!” Voldemort says whirls around to face Severus, his red eyes flaring dangerously. ”My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!”
”M- My Lord, there can be no question, surely…”
”Oh, but there is a question, Severus… Why did both the wands I have used, fail when directed at Harry Potter?”
”I — I cannot answer that, my Lord”, Severus says, slightly out of breath like he doesn’t dare speak too loudly.
”Can’t you?” Voldemort murmurs, and the pain in Harry’s scar spikes.
He screws his eyes shut as if that would shut the pain out as well: He is looking into the pale, drawn face of Severus Snape whose eyes flit to Nagini and then back to stare humbly at his — Voldemort’s — feet once more.
”All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here wondering, wondering… why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner… and I think I have the answer.”
Severus black eyes flit up to meet his; his face has drained of blood completely, making him deathly pale, even more so than usual.
”Perhaps you already know it?” Voldemort whispers. ”You are a clever man, after all, Severus… You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what has to happen —”
”My Lord —” Severus whispers, his dark eyes filled with terror even as his face remains impassive, a death mask.
”The Elder Wand does not serve me, because I am not its rightful owner. It only serves the wizard who killed its last owner and you killed Albus Dumbledore. While live Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine… It cannot be any other way, I’m afraid…”
He raises the Elder Wand and swipes the air with it. At first, nothing happens and Severus looks relieved for a second. But when the great, silvery sphere in which Nagini is encased rolls through the air towards him, Voldemort’s intention becomes clear and with a terrified yell he stumbles back, but too late… The sphere engulfs him so that his head and shoulders are trapped inside it with the snake.
”Kill”, Voldemort tells Nagini in Parseltongue.
NOOOO —! Harry screams silently, but because of Hermione’s spell it stays within the confines of his own mind, an echo of Severus own scream as the snake lunges at him and digs its great fangs into the side of his neck.
”I regret it”, Voldemort says coldly, but there is no sadness in him, no remorse, just a cold determination as he grips the Elder Wand decisively in his hand.
He points the wand at Nagini’s cage and after another quick stab of her fangs, it finally slips away from Severus again and he crumples to the floor as his knees give way underneath him. Voldemort turns to leave the Shack, Nagini trailing after him.