Chapter XXIII: A New Deal
(? P.O.V)
The young auror trembled before him as he smiled. There were few things in this world that filled him with as much glee as watching a person break- and yet, the auror had refused time, and time again to grant him such pleasure. "Imperio," he hissed, clutching his wand tightly in his hand.
The auror's bruised and beaten body had gone limp as she rose to face the bound mudblood before her. The mudblood was nothing special, though, none were. The poor wizard had just been an unfortunate training tool. The man quivered, unable to break from his restraints as the Dark Lord smiled. "Tonks, kill him."
He watched as the young witch lifted her gifted wand, the gnashing of her teeth audible as she tried to resist. Her arms quaked with determination, as thin droplets of tears fell to the floor. Her breathing had stiffened, the wood of her wand pointed directly at the elderly man's head. "I said, kill him."
"Avada-," The girl bit her tongue, blood flowing from her lips as she dropped the wand in her, "I refuse."
"I wasn't offering you a choice," Voldemort thundered, "Do it, now."
A chuckle left the woman's lips as she shook her head, "Bite me, asshole."
A wave of his hand sent the witch tumbling to the floor as he lifted his wand, "You're a tough one to crack, I'll give you that- but no matter, eventually, you'll break. I swear to you, that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for death."
Nothing but an infuriating smile filled the girl's face, "You dare smile! Cruc-,"
His spell was halted by a knock at the door, a cool voice whispered from behind the metal frame, "My lord, may I enter?"
The fury which filled his hard subsided as he waved the door open, one of his most loyal kneeling in the hall. Severus waited for his order to allow him to rise, an order which Voldemort hadn't hesitated to give. The Hogwarts Professor rose with a bowed head, after all, he knew better than to look the Dark Lord in the eyes.
"What news do you have to report Severus?" Voldemort murmured, his displeasure of being interrupted still pounding in the back of his head. "And what is the urgency that you interrupted my interrogation."
"I apologize, My Lord," Severus said, his head nearly touching the ground from the deepness of his bow. "But the news I have to report involves the safety of this girl."
Voldemort raised an eyebrow, his eyes sharpening as he allowed his minion to continue. "My Lord, as I'm sure you've received reports of by now, I had a conversation with Harry Potter earlier this week." The girl on the floor flinched at the name, but Voldemort paid her no mind, there were more pressing issues at the moment, "He approached me with terms, My Lord."
"Terms," The word had tasted like daggers in his mouth as Voldemort continued, "The only terms I plan to accept is his head, freely given."
"I understand, My Lord," Severus said, his voice calm as it had always been, "But I assure you this negotiation may be one worth listening to. As I can confirm, that Harry Potter currently has in his possession, the Prophecy you seek."
Voldemort had felt his blood run cold as he lunged towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, "Potter had the prophecy? How was he not spotted by our eyes in the ministry? Are you certain of this fact."
"I am, My Lord," Severus said, "And as you are aware, I have a… familiarity with that prophecy that your other death eaters do not share. I know what I saw, My Lord. I can ensure you, it is the one you seek. The one that speaks of the child destined to 'vanquish' your rule."
His elongated fingernails tapped against his thighs as he looked down at his servant, "This prophecy is of great value, and yet, you claim that Potter had terms. What negotiation could be done that would make the boy foolish enough to overturn such valuable information."
Severus' eyes leaped towards the girl who writhed in pain at his feet, "The woman in your possession is Nymphadora Tonks, Potter sees her as his older sister. He is kind, and is weak, much like his father. That is why the terms he's proposed is an exchange, the prophecy for his sister's life. So long as she remains unharmed, that is."
"And he plans for me to accept, and send along a message for a meeting spot for said exchange with you, no doubt." Severus nodded at his words as he laughed, "The fool," Voldemort bellowed, "He believes me foolish enough to step into an ambush. He's been underestimating me. I will do no such thing."
"Forgive me for harping upon the issue, My Lord, but I implore you to reconsider," Snape's words had caused the Dark Lord's blood to boil, yet he continued. "Potter is angry, an rationale. He's already heard the prophecy, and should you not comply, he will destroy it, leaving you completely in the dark. I despise the thought, but Potter has the high ground in this negotiation. It will hurt him massively, but Potter can survive to lose a sibling, yet you remaining unaware of the prophecy's contents could lead to your demise."
"Severus, you misunderstood me," Voldemort hissed allowing him to rise to full attention. "I do not plan to do nothing. Draco will retrieve the prophecy from Potter should I instruct him to do so, and you will assist him."
"My Lord," Severus whispered, "Potter, he's not the same as the boy you fought in the graveyard. His magic, I could sense it. Even if I were to combat him myself, he'd kill me."
"Then I suppose we will just be forced to target his weaknesses," Voldemort said as he turned his back on the former potions professor. "Stay on standby, and watch over Draco. I will ensure the prophecy is stripped from Potter, and in exchange, I'll send him his sister's corpse."
(Michael P.O.V)
The dark circles that had formed around Harry's eyes had not gone unnoticed by Michael. He'd heard from Daphne that the trade arrangements had gone well, but it was clear that the idea of his sister being in Voldemort's clutches had not made sleep easier for him. The fact that Snape had yet to give them an update of any kind had also caused Michael's skin to crawl. It also hadn't helped that Sirius had only recently informed them of their piled up schedule. With the proceedings of Fudge's trial in the works, perception needed to be shifted quickly, meaning a meeting between them, and the always lovely, Rita Skeeter.
Daphne had been insistent of trusting the former potions professor, but she was nearly entirely on her own in that regard. He, Harry, and Neville had been burned by Snape's ire far too many times to give him a chance. And while Hermione supported the idea of informing Dumbledore about their goings-on, it was painfully obvious that the old man wouldn't be around much longer.
The ever-glowing candles of the Room of Requirement flickered as they illuminated the darkroom. The dancing flames allowed his mind to drift from the pulsing that pounded against his bruised arm, but his attention had been refocused quickly by a gentle squeeze of his hand. "Are you alright?" Claire whispered, "You're normally not this quiet?"
"I'm fine," Michael said, though in truth he wasn't so sure about his words, "I'm just- concerned."
Claire nodded, her eyes shifting to face the door in the distance, "It's hard for anybody to watch their friends hurt. But in Harry's situation, there's nothing more you can do for him- there's nothing more any of us can do for him, then to work on not being a burden ourselves. Tensions are high, but we can't allow ourselves to sink into despair. If we do so, we've already lost."
He nodded, swallowing his frustrations as the iron-barred double doors of the Room of Requirement flung open. From beyond the door, their small legion of students marched in, led by the Red-Headed Weasley Clan. Good, Michael thought as he scanned the crowd, It doesn't look like anyone's lost faith.
His eyes shifted towards Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived now scanning the schedule with concern before turning to face him once more, his expression spoke loud and clear, Are you sure they're ready.
Some of them, Michael replied with a shrug. Harry nodded, though his eyes were somewhat unfocused. Slowly, he climbed the small riser that made him the center of attention. He cleared his throat as the crowd settled, watching him with intensity. "Um, hi- this is still as awkward as always," Harry said as he scratched the back of his neck. "Anyway, there is no point in denying the obvious. Over the holidays, the Burrow, the home of the Weasleys, was attacked by Death Eaters and burned to the ground. A few good things came of this," Harry continued. "The first being that as you all have most certainly read, Fudge is officially under investigation. Giving us a chance to have a Minister in Amelia Bones capable of doing what needs to be done during this time of conflict."
"It doesn't change the fact, however, that while we were able to repel the forces we were incredibly outnumbered." Harry sighed, "We won't be able to win this war on our own, we'll need the auror department at our backs if we want a chance at victory. That is why I am imploring you all to write to your families and spread the word. Fudge's undersecretary was behind the attack on the Weasleys' home; he can't be trusted. We need someone new in office, and I need all of your voices to make a change. This bastardization of our leadership ends now. Kids our age should never have to be put in charge, but that's the situation we have to deal with, let's make certain that in the future, our kids will never have to face the same trials."
There was a soft pause, nobody in the room made a sound as Michael watched Harry's feet shift beneath him. "I just wanted to give you all something to think about. But that isn't the point of this meeting today. Michael and I have all seen how your talents have grown over time, and we think that some of you are ready to begin working on the Patronus Charm. Currently; Daphne, Michael, Astoria, Neville, and I all know how to cast the spell. We'll break into small training groups and proceed from there."
The breakout groups had been formed quickly, as Michael took his group of himself, Claire, Cho, Tracey, Susan, and Ron to a corner in the far right. Jitters of nervous excitement radiated from his fellow students as Michael lifted his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" He bellowed, thinking of the first kiss he'd shared with Claire in the forbidden forest as a squirrel flew from his wand, encased in a soft white glow.
"Alright show off," Claire muttered, as the crowd stood in awe, "We already know that you can do it."
"No need to be jealous, Pretty Bird," Michael said as he chuckled, "Just showing and example before the lesson begins." Michael flicked his wrist, vanishing the squirrel before he turned to face the crowd. "In terms of mastery, the Patronus Charm is a hard one to gain control of. But not because of some complicated wrist motion or incantation. The difficulty comes from keeping a calm presence of mind and controlling the stream of magic."
"Stream of magic?" Susan asked, her head tilted to the side.
"Yes," Michael said, "When most spells are cast, they are cast in a singular release. However, the Patronus Charm requires a prolonged-release, and as such, requires you to expel more magic than you might think. Use too much of it, and you'll become really weak, you might even pass out. And when fighting dementors, that's the last thing you want to happen."
"I understand the risks," Ron said, his fingers tapping impatiently against his leg, "Just teach us how it's done."
"Simple," Michael said with a smirk, "Think of something that made you the happiest in the world and say the incantation. Control the drain, and try not to blackout. Now," Michael said, his eyes scanning the crowd, "Who wants to go first?"
The minutes flew by as whispers of white mist shields exploded all around the room. They're determined, Michael thought watching the sweat beat down the face of his small cohort. "Expecto Patronum!" Claire shouted from his side, as through the white shield, the mist flickered, forming a tiny shape. "Just a little more," Claire whispered, before with a gasp, the shield vanished, her knees buckling beneath her as she hit the ground.
"Claire!" Michael called, squatting beside her as she shook her head.
"I'm fine, I just-," Claire said, panting, "I just lost control for a little. Next time I'll get it for sure."
"I'm certain you will, just so long as next time is tomorrow," Michael said with a smirk, "You're nearly out of your magic reserve from now, your signature is weak enough that I can hardly sense you right now. Let's take a break."
"Fine," Claire said with a sigh. She glanced down at her exhausted frame as she leaned further into Michael's chest with a smile, "It's not like I have the strength to protest anyway."
(Harry P.O.V)
Harry sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, the crescent moon in the night sky filling the space with a brilliant glow as he watched the flames flicker. I just wish I could sleep, he thought, rubbing the scar the man that held his sister etched into his skin. His muscles pulsed beneath his skin as he gripped the fabric of the couches cushions, "Tonks, please be safe," he whispered beneath his bread.
The flames danced, as his mind wandered towards the black bat of Slytherin. He's been quiet. I understand with Draco around he risks blowing his cover if it even is a cover at all, but the update has been so slow. What is he planning? Is Tonks even alive- He shook his head forcefully, "She's alive," he hissed, "She's too stubborn to die."
"I guess that could be said for the both of you," A raspy voice called out from behind him. Harry turned, catching Astoria's kaleidoscopic eyes as she smiled. "They say that sleep is the cousin of death and you're too stubborn to even do that."
"Isn't it a bit past your bedtime, Short Stack?"
"I won't tell if you don't," Astoria chuckled, plopping herself beside him. "Tonks is going to be fine, Harry. You just- you need to trust Snape on this one."
"Do you trust him?" Harry asked, glancing at his younger sister.
"I trust Daphne, and Daphne trusts him," Astoria said, her eyes dropping as she rested against his shoulder. "Daphne said that Snape protected her during our first night at the castle. If he did, then I'm willing to give him a chance. I know that it's the last thing we want to do in these high-risk moments, but- it's not like we have tons of other options."
Harry sighed as he rose from the couch, sensing Astoria's curious stare, "Where are you going?"
"To train," Harry said softly, "Apparently I'm not tired enough to go to sleep just yet."
"Can I come?" Astoria whispered back.
"It's uh-," Harry said as he swished the crow pendant between his fingers, "It's not that kind of training." Astoria's head sank as Harry gave her a soft grin, "Hey, we'll go for a flight later, okay? I just need to handle this training on my own."
The cloak had always felt more comfortable than the prefect badge as he strolled the corridors at night. Even if he'd been given permission to wander the halls, it never truly made him feel at ease. Though, after his summer with Morgana and Moody, Harry wasn't completely sure if he'd ever truly feel at ease again.
The doors to the Room of Requirement cracked open for him once more. I feel that I've spent at least eighty percent of my year in the room. He thought to himself numbly as he entered the much darker version of the room. It was hard for Harry to believe that just a few hours ago, this place had been buzzing with enthusiastic students making great progress, but then again, there were a lot of things that Harry found hard to believe now.
The blackness of the room encased him, though he knew nothing was around. He didn't mind the dark. When he was younger, Tonks had told him scary stories about the monsters under the bed and in the closet, but those did little to strike fear into his heart now. Especially not when he was set to face a real monster, and this one, wouldn't be in hiding forever.
He took a deep breath. The cool winter air which permeated through the castle's walls filled his lungs as he sat with crossed legs upon the stone-cold floor. His meditation form had felt like second nature, the weight of his held position hardly affected his as he clamped his hands together. He closed his eyes and sunk into his mind with a heavy exhale.
The twisted halls of his manor greeted him like an old friend as he clutched his crow pendant. The pendant flew upwards, following the trace of Morgana's magic like a compass guiding him towards his ghostly mistress. He turned one of the many doors in the mansion of his twisted mindscape, the witch's eyes falling upon him as she sat in an Amethyst-Encrusted throne. "Do you like the decorations? I conjured them myself. Your mind, honestly it was far too modern for my taste."
Harry remained silent. For as much as he'd grown accustomed to the witch's banter, his patience had been stretched dangerously thin. "Awfully rude of you not to respond," Morgana whispered, "Though I suppose I can understand why. I must say, you can be quite frightening when you're angry. That performance on the field at, what was it called again, the Burrow or something- it was quite masterful. Especially for somebody your age."
"I didn't come here for flattery or to provide you with decorating advice, Lady Morgana," Harry's eyes remained even as the witch rose to circle him. "I came here to siphon more magic. Will you help?"
"Of course, I'll assist, that is my function in your body after all," Morgana said, her voice soft yet somehow cold as ice. "Though I would recommend against it. You've not slept, ate, or rested well in quite a while. It would be unwise to proceed in your current condition."
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "Sooner rather than later, I'll be forced to combat Voldemort. I need to save my sister. I'll do whatever it takes."
"You are as stubborn as Alastor, I see," Morgana said with a sigh. "Though, I will impart onto you the same advice I've given you before. Connections with others, it is best to sever them. It is your love for your sister that is making you act as irrationally as you currently are. This love- it will get you killed."
"Then I'll fight until I die," Harry said, his voice frosty as his ghostly mentor. "I am who I am Lady Morgana. If I die saving Tonks, then so be it. But leaving her to die- that isn't an option."
"Why must every man I come to welcome into my kingdom be such enormous pains in the ass," Morgana muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Very well, you know what to do then. Let's go."
Harry nodded, turning his back on the beautiful woman as the two departed to the outside realm of his mind. The Black Lake where the shard of Voldemort's magic core laid never failed to make a chill race down his spine. But there was no backing out. No matter the pain and exhaustion the extraction caused him, it without a doubt left him ringing with power post-recovery. All the pain- it was worth it.
Harry snapped, commanding the trunk to rise to his side. The magic he sensed from the locked case was lighter, noticeably, and a smile ripped onto Harry's lips. I'm making progress. He took a seat as Morgana placed herself behind him, her cool pale hand resting on his back. "Are you ready?" Morgana whispered.
He said nothing, simply grunting his agreement, as with a wave of her wand the trunk cracked open, the enfeebled manifestation of Dark Lord's magical core rising from its imprisonment. A roar poured from Harry's lips as magical draining chains tore from his body, latching around the core. The feeling of fire raced in his veins once more, his exhaustion amplifying the pain, but his breathing stayed steady. Blood trickled from his lips as he bit down his scream, the anguish partially being minimized by Morgana's, as the image of Tonks raced across his mind's eyes.
Every vein in his body bulged but Harry swallowed cry after cry, the magical core shrinking with every passing second. "You've taken another four percent, do you plan to continue?"
"Keep going!" Harry bellowed the skin feeling as if it was being shredded from his body, "I can handle it."
The pain had grown more intense by the moment, before finally, Morgana snapped the chains. Harry fell backward, a glare present in his eyes as he took in his Mistress' form. "Why did you stop me? I could have kept going?"
"No, you couldn't have," Morgana said cooly. "Draining his magic is about more than just will power. If it was, you'd have done the whole thing in one sitting. You've drained this Voldemort's core by thirty percent now, and in your body's current state, that's all you can handle. You need to rest and allow your body time to heal. Once you leave this mindscape, I'd dare to say that the pain you'll feel will be so overwhelming, you'll become unconscious. Be lucky I stopped your link. If you pushed it any further, you'd have died."
"I've come to like you boy, but you're being far too reckless in your actions right now." Morgana's eyes took the shape of daggers as she hissed, "You need to calm down or everyone that follows you will die."
Harry swallowed as a sobering wave washed over him, his head falling to the ground. "Thank you, Lady Morgana. I guess- I haven't really been able to think straight."
"For what it is worth," Morgana said, taking a seat beside him, "I know how intelligent you can be. I also know how remarkably sharp your comrades are. If you actually sit and think a plan through, I'd say you have a shot of getting this Tonks character back. But if you try to brute force it at your current level, you will fail."
The image of Morgana had begun to grow fuzzy as Harry's body fell limp. "Hmm," Morgana said, though her voice had sounded muffled, "It appears I was right, your body is losing the capacity to even stay-"
(Daphne P.O.V)
"He went out to train," those were the words her sister had given her upon arriving at Great Hall without Harry. I hate when he does that, she thought. Her fingers tapped along the long wooden table as she sighed, Of all the days to go missing, it's the day we're scheduled to meet with Skeeter to sway public opinion. Give me a break.
She'd been broken from her thoughts as a cold whisper of passing win brushed by her. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, as silently, Draco walked by. If he is one of them, then he should know about Tonks, right? But if he does, why is he so quiet? Tracey's hand tapped her side, watching her with strained eyes, "What's wrong? If you're worried about Harry-"
"I'm perpetually worried about Harry," Daphne said with a sigh, "That's nothing new. But it's Malfoy that isn't sitting right with me. He knows that his side has the upper hand on us, and yet, he's acting uncharacteristically reserved. That doesn't sound like something he'd normally do."
"That's true," Blaise whispered, "But remember what both Harry and Michael have said about him. He's different. Hell, I share a dorm with him, but he's hardly ever around. I have no idea where he goes to at night, but he arrives after I call it a night, and is gone before I wake up. Whatever his situation is, it's motivated."
Draco's eyes fell upon her, bringing a tightness to her chest as he sneered. Slowly, she turned away from the boy, swishing her glass of pumpkin juice before bringing it to her lips. She nearly spat at the taste- she'd had bitter pumpkin juice before, from recipes that hadn't let the sugar dissolve into the liquid, but this was far worse than any she'd had before.
Regardless, spitting would cause a scene, and with a gulp, she swallowed, placing the glass down. She leaned over, as her stomach rumbled slightly, but her attention had been pulled as Harry appeared in the doorway of the hall. Something's wrong, she thought, watching as Harry walked stiffly towards the Gryffindor Table. He's good at hiding pain, but he looks beyond exhausted. I should-
Daphne had no sooner risen from her chair before she bumped into a heavily coated figure. Her head of house glanced down at her, his eyes brimming with disinterest as he whispered, "In a bit of a hurry are we, Ms. Greengrass."
"A bit, Professor," Daphne replied, her eyes scanning the grey-toned skin of the former potions master. Though, for as hard as she searched, not a single clue of their prior conversation was found anywhere upon his face. "Can I help you, Professor?"
"From what I've understood, Lord Black has scheduled an interview between Mr. Potter and the Daily Prophet today. I've recently been informed that you and many others of Potter's associates present at that unfortunate attack on the burrow will also be in attendance. I've just come to impart some wisdom upon you. We live in a dangerous time, Ms. Greengrass. I would implore you to refrain from being caught alone and off guard."
"What do you-," But Daphne's question had fallen on deaf ears as Severus Snape, ascended towards the staff table without another word.
"That was strange," Tracey whispered, her own eyes following the professor's movements, "What do you think that was about?"
"I think that-," Daphne muttered her own eyes not moving from the spot that Snape once stood, "I think he was trying to warn me about something." Her stomach curled again as she pressed her palm to her skin, Merlin that Pumpkin Juice really isn't sitting well with me.
She swallowed the thought as she parted from her table with a soft wave. The chattering of the Gryffindor Table seemed to stop at her approach, but only briefly as she was recognized as a 'friendly snake'. Beside her sister, Harry looked like a well put together mess, a look that only he could master. He was dressed appropriately for an interview, with a white button-down beneath his winter cloak and black slacks, yet he looked off.
Though, she seemed to be the only one who noticed as chattering continued without another interruption. Only silence filled the space between her and Harry, however, until, as graceful as he entered, Harry stood. So it wasn't my imagination, Daphne thought, He's moving sluggishly.
Harry took her hand in his, escorting her from the Great Hall, earning not a single objection. As they turned the corner, the silence stopped with Harry being the first to speak, "So, um, what did Snape talk to you about? Did he have any news about-"
Daphne shook her head as Harry's head sunk, "Sorry," she whispered, "But what he did tell me wasn't any less odd." This had stirred Harry once more as she pressed on, "He knew that we were heading out to Hogsmeade for the interview today. He told me to watch myself and not leave your side."
"Damn," Harry cursed, causing her brow to tighten.
"So, what you're saying is you don't want me at your side," Daphne said with a light smile, trying to breathe some levity into Harry's eyes.
"You know that's not it," Harry said with a sigh. "It's almost perfect, the day I lose access to my magic is the day he warns us about something bad coming. Honestly, how unlucky can one person be?"
"Lose your magic?" Daphne asked, her nose deeply wrinkled, "What do you mean you lost access to your magic."
"I guess there's no point in lying," Harry said with a shrug, "I'm sure Astoria already told you I went out to train at night." Daphne nodded, encouraging Harry to continue. His eyes dropped to the ground as he hissed, "I was careless. I was so tired of feeling helpless that even in my exhausted state, I went to try and siphon off more of Voldemort's magic."
"Harry, what were you thinking? We both know how taxing that is on your body, why would you-,"
"I know, I was just so frustrated." Harry's fists clenched tightly as he whispered through gritted teeth. "Whenever I siphon magic, it takes a while for my magic to completely readjust to the new addition to my core. But because I overdid it last night, I feel like I short-circuited my magic reserve. Morgana said I should start to feel better by tomorrow, but- if we're being honest, I don't feel like I have any magic in my system at all."
"If you can't perform magic," Daphne said, "Then we shouldn't go to the interview. We can always call it off and-"
"No, we can't," Harry said, "We're playing a game of perception. Rita Skeeter already knows that we're coming to shit on Fudge. If we avoid the interview, it provides her with a different story. One in which we chickened out to talk about Fudge because we secretly believe he's innocent. Shifting the public perception into Fudge's hands is not something we can allow to happen."
"So, what should we do?"
"Listen, I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself," Harry said calmly, "But if it looks like anything is going to happen, don't stick around. Get out, and I'll be right behind you. I hate to run, but that's what Michael and Neville have trained so hard with me for. They'll cover our escape."
"Wow," Daphne whispered, "That almost sounded like you trusted someone to fight on your behalf rather than having to go at it yourself. Dare I say growth?"
"Whatever, Princess," Harry said as he rolled his eyes. Their soft banter had been interrupted by the ringing of the castle's bells, signaling the hour change. "Nine O'Clock already, huh?" Harry said with a quiet hiss, "Guess that means the carriages will be arriving soon. Is everyone-"
Harry didn't even have a chance to answer his question before getting the answer as the remainder of the original S.P.I.R.E pulled out of the Great Hall. "I guess so," Daphne said as she turned to face the other members, "Alright, to Hogsmeade, we go."