Chapter 42: Stay Alive
Grimmauld Place, December 18th 1997
Several weeks have rushed by. Our days have been spent by practicing duelling, by having endless discussions regarding the plan, and the necessary precautions we ought to take. We have been preparing ourselves, even more so than we did before the unfortunate visit to Godric's Hollow. Still, there is a possibility that our group could be walking into a trap, as there is not point of placing our trust in my cousin.
My cousin, whom I haven't seen in several years. My cousin, who I always thought bore the most resemblance to me. I can only hope she hasn't truly changed during the years. Using Narcissa is a risk we need to take, as there is no other way to acquire something from a Gringotts vault, not when none of us can chance exposing ourselves to the Dark Lord and his followers.
"Good morning," Hermione says, as she steps into the kitchen and sits down opposite to me. "Couldn't sleep?" She asks, and then murmurs her thanks as I flick my wand to serve her tea.
I glance at the timepiece on the wall. Five-thirty in the morning. Something I had apparently disregarded when I ventured downstairs some time ago. I give her a noncommittal shrug and sip my tea. After a moment, and after she has glanced at me for the fourth time, I clear my throat. "And you?"
Hermione blinks at me, and then gives me a strained smile. "Not really," she says wearily. "I have a bad feeling about the mission…that something will go wrong, and…" she says and worries her lip, a contemplative look in her eyes.
"And?" I ask, feeling curious.
She gives me a small frown. "Well, frankly, I'm afraid one of us will let our…attachments…go before the mission," she says, and looks away, her cheeks colouring slightly.
I nod slowly, knowing what she tries to say. It is something we have discussed several times within the group, always ending up in an argument. Potter and the Horcrux are our priorities, and once we seize the cup, it should be brought into safety – along with Potter – even in the event we are subjected to an enemy attack.
"I'm, um, also anxious about Narcissa," Hermione continues, giving me a hesitant look. "I know you said she will most likely expect a trap, but, I'm just worried she will, well – outsmart us."
I give her a mildly amused look, as this is another topic thoroughly discussed. "She might. And as we have gone through before, we ought to expect her either alone or with another Death Eater. I do not think she would share her suspicions to the Dark Lord, before confirming the matter herself. The Dark Lord does not approve his followers to presume without reasonable evidence," I say, and continue as she still looks hesitant, "Narcissa would not take the risk of facing the Dark Lord's anger after passing on information she is not certain is true. I knew her quite well in our childhood, even if she was some years older than me. We were much alike; not as tightly fit as my brother and her sister, but we shared the same…perception of things," I explain, and Hermione gives me a stunned look.
"Her…sister?" She asks with her eyes widened in shock.
I swallow hard. "Andromeda."
Hermione lets out a long huff of breath, smile curving her lips. "Oh. Of course!" She says, and then a deep frown takes place between her brows, her smile vanishing. "It's horrible, what happened to her…what happened to her husband," she says quietly, her eyes glittering with sadness.
It is. Andromeda's husband; Edward Tonks, was found dead not two weeks ago. Due to his muggle-born status, the man had been on the run from the Ministry, and succeeded to stay hidden, until now. My cousin had contacted me, had risked writing a short letter, in which she explained that her husband had been murdered. The news naturally came as a shock to our group.
The only bit of good news was brought by Andromeda's implication that recently, she had been in contact with her daughter and her daughter's husband.
I give Hermione a stiff nod and then focus on my tea. Minutes go by, then hours. Eventually, Potter and Ronald arrive to the kitchen, with sleep-ruffled hair and drowsy eyes.
"Everything should be ready for tomorrow," Hermione says tensely, after everyone has emptied their plates. "I've finished the Polyjuice Potion, and we have packed the necessary items – if for some reason we cannot immediately return back here," she continues with a small frown, as if inwardly going through a list of items.
"As agreed, we will go through the Leaky Cauldron, as it is the only entrance to Diagon Alley that is not tracked by the Ministry. To avoid the possible Death Eaters – and anyone else who might take interest in an anonymous witch seeking entry to Diagon Alley – we should leave early in the morning," Hermione explains, glancing at her notes. "I will be disguised, and provide you safe passage to the back yard –"
"Hermione…" Ronald mutters with a worried tone.
"Shush Ron, it has been decided," Hermione says tightly, giving the poor boy a sharp look, before she continues, "We will then move quickly to the clothing shop, and, um," she grimaces, "stun the owner, Mr. DuPont."
"I doubt we all fit under the cloak," Potter mutters as he sips his tea.
Hermione purses her lips. "We undoubtedly will not. I will walk to the shop disillusioned, and the three of you will stay under the cloak. It will be still dark, that time in the morning, so there will be a very small chance of anyone detecting a flash of an ankle or a shoe," she says shrewdly.
Potter gives her a nod. "What about when Narcissa comes? If she'll even come?" He asks, glancing at me.
"She will be there. And I will be Mr. DuPont by then," I say simply. When Potter arches a brow, I continue. "You three should stay out of sight, and prepare to stun anyone who might be accompanying her. If we are fortunate enough, she will arrive with a Death Eater, who we can use as a disguise. If not, Mr. DuPont shall be escorting Narcissa Malfoy to Gringotts."
Hermione clears her throat. "After Regulus leaves the shop with Narcissa, you two," She says, and with defeat, nods at Potter and Ronald, "will start patrolling the streets under the invisibility cloak, while I will stay in the shop and keep watch."
"What about the coins?" Potter asks from her.
Hermione nods sharply, and places four galleons on the table. "These are linked to each other," she explains, as everyone takes one coin, "and should work from a distance as well, as we already tested with Ron the other day."
She worries her lip before looking at me, "However, I cannot say if they will work within Gringotts – I'm not that familiar with Goblin magic…"
"We'll see," I tell her with a reassuring look.
The last day before our mission has gone quickly by, and most of the day has been spent by going through the plan, and all the necessary details, starting from our departure early in the next morning, until our arrival back here, whenever it will be.
I'm feeling anxious, like everyone else, I think. I watch at the moving picture, as my father twirls my mother around in the Gryffindor common room, while Sirius, Lupin and Pettigrew laugh at something behind them, over the fireplace. I wish I could have one night like that with my friends – one night in the Gryffindor common room, when none of us think about Voldemort, or Death Eaters, or war.
There's a soft knock on the door.
"Harry?" Hermione calls into the dimly lit room, before her eyes find me.
"Hey," I mutter and watch as she steps closer to me, her gaze on the photographs.
"Wow. There're so many of them…" She mutters, a small smile forming to her lips as she takes in most of them. "Is that…?" She asks, her focus on the picture of Sirius and Regulus, from the party Sirius organised for Regulus's birthday.
"Yeah. A couple or so months before he…um, went through the Veil," I explain tightly.
Hermione sends a worried look towards me, "I'm sorry, Harry," she says quietly.
I shrug at her, but keep my gaze at the photograph. "There's nothing we can do about it," I say. Not now, at least, I add in my mind.
There's a short silence. "They both look very handsome," She says, and gives me a small smile.
"I suppose," I say, my mouth curving upwards.
"So, everything is okay between the two of you?" She asks hesitantly.
I chew the inside of my cheek. I think we're good, Regulus and I. I hope we are. Mostly, we have been focused on destroying Voldemort; researching Horcruxes and finding them, strengthening my Occlumency skills, and so on. However, we have slept next to each other, in the same bed, for several months. Of course, there has been occasional discussions about us, occasional snogs, and, well, occasional…more than snogs.
Hermione watches me silently, and there's a knowing look in her eyes, as if she knows exactly what I'm thinking. Then, suddenly, her expression turns into a solemn one.
"What is it?" I ask quietly, turning towards her, concern flickering in my stomach.
Hermione frowns at me. "I'm happy for you, Harry, but…"
"But what?" I ask with a tight voice, my eyes moving over her face.
"…If anything ought to happen to anyone of us, you – you know what is important?" She asks, grimacing slightly.
I watch her for a while, before I answer, my voice a bit hollow, knowing fully well what she wants to hear. "The cup."
"And you, Harry." She adds, her brown eyes watching me intently.
I huff. "Hermione, I –"
"No, listen, Harry. You cannot play a hero. We need the cup. But we also need you alive," She says steadily. "Even if something happens to the rest of us," she continues, her voice now quiet.
I open my mouth, shaking my head but Hermione places her both hands on my shoulders. "Promise me that you will run before playing the hero, Harry." She says severely. "Promise me that your life, and the cup, are your priorities."
I stare at him for a long moment, stunned by her words. Then I realise, that she knows me too well, knows how I would react if some of them would get hurt. I swallow hard as I look at her unrelenting gaze.
"Fine." I finally huff out, looking away as I clench my jaw.
Hermione watches me for another moment, before she nods, seemingly satisfied. "Good. Now, come on. It's getting late. We need to be up early tomorrow."
I let out a deep sigh and give her a nod, following her to the landing outside Sirius's and Regulus's rooms. I wish her good night, and then slip into Regulus's room, as Hermione leaves to her room, downstairs.
I glance around the room, and see him there, hands in his pockets, still wearing his pressed slacks and shirt, standing in front of the tall windows, staring outside. I watch him quietly for a while, wondering what is going on in his mind, if he is as nervous about tomorrow as I am. Does Regulus too have an anxious doubt in the bottom of his stomach, warning him that what we aim to accomplish tomorrow is dangerous, telling him that we are going to step into a trap?
What are his priorities? Will he take care of himself, or will he try to uphold his promise he made to his brother, and do whatever it takes to protect me?
Knowing the answer already, as I know mine, I let out a weary sigh and walk up to him, placing my hand between his shoulder blades – the tension in him melts slightly away.
"Potter," Regulus mutters.
I let my hand trail down his back, and curl against his waist. Regulus lets out a deep breath, his head tipping forward. I move an inch closer, and then press my lips against his neck. I need to be close to him, to feel him. I need to empty my mind from these anguished thoughts that keep mulling in my head, that keep the fear and anticipation circling in my chest. I want a moment, when I can only think of him.
Regulus turns slowly around, his eyes moving over me, taking in my features.
"So. Tomorrow," I say quietly, placing my hand back against his waist, my fingers shaking against the fabric of his shirt.
He inclines his head a bit, steely grey eyes watching me intently. "Tomorrow. Are you ready?" He asks mutedly.
I clench my jaw. "No – I dunno," I say, and look at him, feeling anxious about the next day. "After what happened last time…" I mutter with a sigh, and glance at my fingers, pressing against his waist.
"You're afraid? That someone gets hurt?" He asks simply, his voice quiet.
I give him a mirthless smile. "Of course. Aren't you?"
Regulus watches me for a moment in silence. "Yes." He says with a small nod, a strained look in his eyes. Then, he swallows hard before taking a hold on the back of my neck, and pulling me closer to meet his lips.
The kiss is soft and slow at first, and there's nothing more to say, nothing more to do but kiss him back and let him make me forget the anxiousness I feel. He makes all the awful thoughts that swirl in my head disappear, as his fingers flex against my hip, and his lips move against mine.
The kiss deepens, becomes hungry, desperate. Regulus's tongue pushes against mine, and I let out a small moan, fire rushing through my veins. My hands find their way past his waist, pressing against his back, urging him closer. Soon there's no space left between us, and when our hips meet, it is so torturously good that we both groan into the kiss.
Regulus pulls back slightly, and moves to breathe heavily against the side of my neck. "Merlin…" He whispers.
I'm dazed by lust, and can only pant and think of every inch of him that is pressing against me, trying to figure out why there are still so many layers of clothing between us.
Regulus's lips then move against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Every kiss, and every touch of his tongue makes me inch myself closer to him, but it isn't before I feel his teeth on my skin, when I actually thrust my hips against him, unsteadily, breathless by the friction we both receive.
"Fuck, Potter," Regulus mumbles, pressing his forehead against my shoulder.
His fingertips slip under the hem of my shirt, knuckles brushing at the bare skin right below my navel, drawing all my attention to that light touch.
I move my hands at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, throwing it over my shoulder. Regulus swallows hard as he takes a hold of my waist, his gaze sweeping over my body.
He leans in for an intense kiss, and I wrap my hands over his neck, keeping him there, thinking I'll soon become mad with want, as I rub myself against him, gasping against his lips. Regulus is relentless; thrusting his tongue into my mouth, making my pulse thunder, making me want to beg him to – to – touch me.
Which I kind of do, a moment later.
"Reg," I murmur against his lips, and as soon as his name has left my mouth, his other hand makes a quick work to open my trousers. His fingertips graze the skin inside of my pants, before he stills, panting against my lips, his brows lifted in question.
I nod quickly. "Yeah. Yes," I whisper, and then groan, as his hand slips inside my pants and wraps around my cock, his lips meeting mine again.
The kiss quickly becomes absent-minded as all I can think of, is Regulus's hand stroking me in a languid rhythm, making me gasp, making me weak and intoxicated at the same time.
The fingertips of his other hand trail up and down my side, following the line of my ribcage, before they start pushing my jeans and pants down my thighs. Regulus's lips move down again, sucking the skin below my jawline, and I have to bite my lip hard to not explode in pleasure.
I can feel Regulus's smile against my neck as a stifled moan escapes from my throat.
Then, he kneels on the floor in front of me, a somewhat smug grin on his lips, and Circe, it's too much; him leaning closer, and then – his lips wrapped around me, sliding up and down my shaft. My toes curl at the overpowering sensation, and a choked moan is wrenched from my lips every time he moves his tongue.
My pulse is pounding in my ears, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes open, to take in the indescribable view, to watch how Regulus's sucks me off, his eyes closed in content. I vaguely notice that somehow, my fingers are knotted into his hair, and when I tug it, Regulus groans around me, sending delectable waves of pleasure down my spine.
"F-Fuck," I grunt, feeling hot all over, feeling like I'm about to shatter in euphoria.
It's so good, so good, that I can't – I can't –
I gasp out a loud moan that sounds a lot like his name, right before I explode into his mouth, seeing only stars and panting like I've run a marathon, as a massive wave of bliss breaks over me.
When I come back to my senses, what feels like hours later, I almost stumble into Regulus, who stands up gracefully, steadying me on my elbow.
He looks very dishevelled, and…aroused; his dark grey eyes blown wide, his lips parted, and wet.
…Merlin.
I give him a shaky grin, feeling still rather stunned and dazed, and then proceed to pull him to the bed with me.
Diagon Alley, December 19th 1997
"Godric, I was sure it wasn't going to work, not when Nott of all people decided to appear to the Leaky Cauldron, exactly the same time we did," Hermione whispers furiously, after we have stunned the shop owner of Twilfitt and Tattings; Mr. DuPont, and put up the necessary security spells – to alert us when anyone is approaching the shop.
It's not even five thirty in the morning, and the pub had been nearly empty when we arrived; only Tom the barman, and, well, Nott – who most likely was there to keep guard.
Nott undoubtedly would've taken interest of the unfamiliar woman, arriving alone to the pub to trade a couple of words with the barman, before making her way to the entrance to the wizarding alley, if he hadn't been Confunded by Ron.
I give her a nod. "Yeah. Good thing Ron was faster," I say, and nudge the boy in question.
Ron shrugs. "Got lucky, I suppose," He says casually, while eyeing the street from between the drawn, heavy, dark brown curtains.
The shop is small, like Malkin's, but with less items on display, so there's a bit more room to move. Only a small part of one of the walls is dedicated to simple black robes, while everywhere else there's either a rack of unique, intricate dresses or formal dress robes.
Regulus is still upstairs in the shopkeeper's personal quarters, turning into Mr. DuPont, and making sure the actual Mr. DuPont will stay unconscious until the next morning – something we decided to take care of with a sedative potion.
"What is Nott even doing in here? He should be in school, shouldn't he?" Hermione asks, as she walks to the wooden, sturdy counter, to peer over the items and search the drawers, a deep frown between her brows.
I walk up to the counter, and see her flicking through a large notebook. "Christmas holidays?" I ask, and nod at the notebook. "Do we know if Mr. DuPont has any appointments today?"
"He doesn't," a raspy voice says from the door that leads upstairs, managing to startle both Hermione and me. It is Regulus with his new appearance and voice. Mr. DuPont is tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed moustache over a thin set of lips that are pulled downwards. He wears heavy robes, adorned with animal fur.
"Nott, you said?" He asks, walking to us, his gaze sweeping over the table and the notebook.
"Malfoy's friend. A Slytherin," Ron grunts and looks at us over his shoulder, a hint of sneer on his lips.
Regulus glances at Ron and the windows, before he nods slowly. "I'm acquainted with his father."
Which is not news, as we already knew that Nott's father is a Death Eater. I wonder if Nott, like Malfoy, has chosen to follow his father's footsteps and joined the Death Eaters. Seems probable – why else he would've been in the Leaky Cauldron, at this time?
"Like father like son," I mutter, while the others give me both tight and agreeing looks.
The hours pass in a snail's pace. Soon, the sun has risen, and we've mostly been silent, keeping guard at the windows, occasionally trading words. Regulus has kept sipping his Polyjuice Potion every hour, to keep his disguise, as we do not know if Narcissa will decide to arrive earlier than the midday that was requested in the letter.
Ron groans and then stretches his back. "Can someone switch? I have to sit or I'll faint," he mutters, stepping away from the sliver of window that is visible between the curtains, turning towards us.
That's when our alerting wards go off.
Both Hermione and Regulus glance up from the desk, where they have been muttering quietly about the next steps to take after the cup has been seized from Gringotts, echoing the surprised looks on Ron and my faces over the windows.
Ron and I quickly scamper away to the far corner, while Hermione lunges towards us, and just after I've managed to throw the Invisibility Cloak over the three of us, hoping that we're not showing our feet, the door to the shop opens.
Narcissa steps in.
With two men accompanying her.
Fuck.
"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," Regulus speaks calmly with Mr. DuPont's raspy voice, nodding at her and her companions.
The two men look around the shop. One of them is tall, muscular, dark haired and skinned. His thick brows are furrowed into a scowl as his hawkish eyes dart around the room. The other one is shorter, leaner and slightly hunched, as if ready to surge into an attack at any moment. His brown and matted hair hangs to his neck. Both men are wearing sturdy, long cloaks over their black robes, and black dragon-hide boots. Narcissa keeps her focus on Regulus, standing rigidly in front of him, her dark green winder cloak reaching to the floor.
"Mr. DuPont," Narcissa says quietly, pulling the hood of her cloak off before taking a step towards the counter, as one of the men moves towards the windows, glancing outside.
Hermione, Ron and I exchange nods under the cloak, and then –
I throw the cloak away and aim my wand at the man on the window, while Hermione and Ron focus on the other man next to Narcissa. "Stupefy!" I yell, hearing the same spell echoing from Ron's and Hermione's mouths.
Time seems to slow down. The two men and Narcissa all turn towards us, pure surprise written to their faces, as three jets of red stream across the room, hitting their targets. Both men instantly fall to the floor with a loud crash. Narcissa then whirls towards Regulus, her wand at the ready, her mouth forming words, but she stills the next second, as Regulus whispers, "Imperio."
Narcissa's posture becomes relaxed, and the wand in her hand slips to the floor. Hermione walks hastily next to the woman and collects the wand. She then snatches the invisibility cloak close to the windows and looks at the rest of us.
"What now?" She asks hastily, an anguished look in her eyes as she gazes at us.
I swallow nervously. "Let's take them upstairs," I say to Ron, and give a wary glance at Narcissa, and then Regulus. "Is she really –"
"Yes. She is." Regulus grits through his teeth, his wand still aimed at Narcissa.
I wonder if she is fighting against the curse, and if Regulus actually can keep her under the spell long enough for us to retrieve the cup.
"Quickly, before someone comes!" Hermione hisses to Ron and me, and then starts to rummage her bag, her hands shaking. "Bind them and gag them! Take a hair from each of them, and their cloaks and shoes!"
I give her a curt nod, and Ron and I levitate the Death Eaters upstairs, not bothering to be gentle, but trying to get them to the spare room – not the one where Mr. DuPont lies unconscious – as quickly as possible. We put the men in a pile after pulling off their cloaks and shoes, and then bind them and gag them with magic.
Hermione emerges to the room, holding two vials. "One of you should take the Polyjuice. Give the other to Regulus," she says, giving the vials to me, before kneeling on the floor in front of the two Death Eaters.
"What are you gonna do?" Ron asks warily.
Hermione glances at us, exasperatedly. "Wipe their memories, of course. They saw us. Now, make haste!"
Ron swallows and nods at me. "You should take it. If we're caught and – "
"No, Ron, you – "
"Just take it, Harry! Ron's right!" Hermione hisses. "And Ron – go downstairs to make sure no one comes. Regulus's potion will run out any minute now."
Ron grunts his agreements and leaves the room, while I quickly pluck a hair from each of the Death Eaters, before dropping them into each vial. Corking the other vial, I down the other in a single gulp, gagging slightly at the mud-like taste.
Hermione doesn't pay attention to me, but murmurs her incantations to the stunned men, while I suffer the familiar, albeit horrible effects of the Polyjuice Potion; gasping in pain as I transform into the shorter man with brown, matted hair.
After the transformation is complete, and I can finally take in a deep breath, I pull the man's cloak and shoes on, put my glasses to one of the cloak's many pockets and grab the other set of clothes and the vial before moving towards downstairs.
Narcissa lies unmoving on the floor.
"W-What?" I ask unsurely, as I put the clothes and the vial on the counter before Regulus, who is in the middle of turning back into himself.
Regulus stands behind the counter, his knuckles pressing onto the wood, as a shudder racks through him. "It is better she doesn't see me," he grunts, and at the next shudder, he is back to himself.
I give him a small frown, watching as he straightens himself up and takes in a deep breath. I nod at the belongings on the table. "Bottoms up."
Regulus aims a wry look at me, before taking the vial and gulping it down, coughing loudly afterwards. The transformation is almost as painful to look as it is to experience. Within moments, a large, dark skinned man stands before us, pulling on his cloak and shoes after altering his robes to fit him better.
"We have one hour," the man grunts. "We should go."
We quickly agree that while Regulus will accompany Narcissa to Gringotts, both Ron and Hermione will patrol the streets under the cloak, as I will watch the streets in my Death Eater disguise.
Regulus moves his focus to Narcissa, a frown forming between his eyes.
"She's fighting the curse, isn't she?" I ask hesitantly, as Hermione and Ron both transfigure their looks slightly, just in case, before throwing the cloak over themselves.
Regulus takes in a deep breath. "I'll manage." He says simply, and then revives Narcissa, flicking his wand immediately to cast the Imperius curse.
We step outside, glancing at both directions, but the streets are empty, even if it is close to noon. This is of course better for us – less people to question our intentions. Our group moves towards the wizarding bank, with Regulus and Narcissa walking side by side in front of me, and Hermione and Ron under the cloak, somewhere on my left.
After a sharp turn in the street, we finally see it; the snowy white building, tall and made of marble, towering over the nearby shops.
Regulus glances at us, nodding inconspicuously, before he and Narcissa continue their way towards the bank. I cannot see him holding a wand, but I know he has it somewhere within his robes. I swallow hard as Regulus and Narcissa walk past the two guards – wizards – stationed outside the bank, and let out a relieved breath as the guards merely nod at the couple.
There're still Goblins. And possibly more guards waiting inside the bank.
"We're moving further on the road. Stay here and – and guard," Ron mutters behind me.
I roll my eyes a bit but then incline my head at them, my gaze moving along the still empty streets.
Twenty minutes later, there's still no sight of anything unusual. But there's no sight of Regulus or Narcissa either. Hermione has sent a message to my coin, informing that all is clear. There's no messages from Regulus. Concern flickers in my chest, and I check the large timepiece on top of the bank, for what has to be the tenth time; it's nearly half one. We have thirty minutes before the Polyjuice Potion runs off.
I'm inside the vault, facing mountains of golden coins and goblets, stacks of silver armour, collections of rare potions, and a large display of jewellery. The Goblin – Bogrod – bows and steps outside to manage the old dragon that keeps guard to the most ancient vaults.
It is eerily quiet, and dark – the vault is lit only by a couple of flickering torches on the far wall. My cousin stands in a relaxed pose, her hands clasped in front of her, an empty look in her grey eyes. She has finally stopped resisting the curse, as I anticipated. It takes a lot of willpower to break it, and the longer one tries, the harder it gets. I know this, since in my past, I tried to train myself to resist it.
I move my focus to the chamber and lift my wand, casting detection charms over the vault. Knowing my cousin, I'm not surprised to find a handful of curses set upon it, which I quickly start to dismantle. It takes some time, and then, as the protective curses are down, I move swiftly around the vault, searching for the cup, knowing what it'll look like.
Time moves on, and right after I've gone through a cabinet filled with cups and other items, cursing under my breath as there is no sign of the Horcrux, I notice my cousin moving towards a long shelf on one of the walls. I watch her closely, feeling her, knowing that her mind is still under my command. She moves gracefully, slowly, until she stops, looking upwards.
There's a cup in the shelf. It must be it. And she has – unconsciously – found it for me.
I nearly run to her, and after a quick spell to identify the item, making sure that it is indeed the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, I grab it, and push it into my robes. Then, with a flick of my wand, I command her to follow me outside.
The door appears right as we stop in front of it, and we quickly make our way back to the cart, passing the enormous dragon that roars angrily, spitting jets of fire behind us.
Bogrod controls the cart and steers us upwards, towards the bank.
"D-Don't…" My cousin suddenly whispers next to me.
Fuck.
I train my wand at her, enforcing the curse, forcing her under again. But she turns towards me, her eyes horrified, pleading. "My c-cousin…d-don't," she grits through her teeth.
I clench my jaw, focusing on the spell, watching blankly at her, as she keeps struggling against the curse. The next moment, we finally reach our destination, and I take my cousin by her arm, steering her away from the bewildered Goblin.
She trembles next to me, as I walk her briskly through the bank, passing the many counters and Goblins, passing the guards. At the front doors, only moments before we step outside, she grabs my arm and tries to pull me back.
"D-Don't!" She says sharply, her fingers shaking against my arm, trying to force me to stop. "H-He'll kill my s-son!" My cousin gasps, her grip strengthening by the second.
Knowing that we need to get out of the bank, quickly, so that I can force her into submission again, I practically drag her outside, drawing suspicious glances from the guards, but then, just as we step to the street, and right before I can strengthen the curse, she manages to break it.
"Voldemort!" She gasps, watching me with an expression filled with fear and shock.
And then, several things happen at once. A dozen people – a mix of Death Eaters and wizards without masks – Apparate in the middle of the street, in front of the bank. My cousin slips away from my grip, screaming a wandless incantation towards me, which I barely manage to block, as curses start to soar through the air, all directed at me.
A powerful shield charm repels the collection of the jets of light just before they hit me, and then, several people are running, yelling, throwing spells and curses, as Ronald and Hermione appear on the other side of the street, and Potter starts to duel a handful of opponents on the other side.
My cousin sends another stream of wandless curses, which I block, while stunning the two guards closest to me.
"Ventus!" My cousin screams, as I send a binding spell to one of Potter's five opponents, and before I can turn back to her, a hurricane-force wind sweeps me off my feet.
"Help him!" I hear Hermione yelling, and then, she screams, "Bombarda!"
There's a loud explosion in the middle of the street, people yelling and screaming, and two of Potter's opponents fly across the air from the force of it.
My cousin aims another force of power against me, which sends my wand away from my grasp. "I warned you," She growls, looking livid, sending waves of force against me.
I bring my hands up, pushing her magic back wandlessly, managing to pull myself on my feet again, while Ronald runs closer to me, blocking spell after spell from the two Death Eaters that advance us.
"Do you have it?!" Ron yells, sending curses and spells towards the Death Eaters, his arm moving fast to block the incoming curses. He manages to stun the other one of his opponents.
"Yes!" I grit through my teeth, focusing on my cousin.
Narcissa lifts her hands up, takes in a sharp breath, and then –
"Diffindo!"
"AAAAAH!" A powerful pain rips through me, and I can hear a scream erupting from my throat as I grab my chest, feeling only agony. I'm straining to keep myself conscious, as I drop down to my knees. And then I see blood. Flooding from my chest, beneath my hands, trickling down as I gasp air into my lungs.
I look at my cousin and see her standing there, rigidly in place, her expression pure terror, a hand in front of her mouth, and my vision starts to flicker. I can hear Potter, yelling, screaming. And then I see my cousin, falling, falling to the ground.
Everything happens in slow motion. Seconds feel like hours. My head and my chest pulsing, my vision swimming, I move my head to see Potter and Hermione, further on the street, surrounded, and Ronald, taking a hold of me, looking anguished.
I drift into darkness.