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Work Header
Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories:
F/FF/MMulti
Fandom:
Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships:
Hermione Granger/Harry PotterFleur Delacour/Harry PotterNarcissa Black Malfoy/Harry PotterDaphne Greengrass/Harry Potter
Characters:
Harry PotterHermione GrangerNarcissa Black MalfoyFleur DelacourDaphne Greengrass
Additional Tags:
HaremsDubious Consent
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2022-07-15Updated:2023-12-15Words:453,627Chapters:65/?Comments:959Kudos:3,444Bookmarks:887Hits:537,063
Two Minds, One Wand
RobWilsonWriting
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Fleur hung her head as Marie closed the door to her bedroom. Her best friend crossed her arms and watched her silently.
Fleur shrank into herself as she realised Marie wasn't accepting her desire to pretend she hadn't seen anything, hadn't seen Fleur fingering herself wantonly in the open corridor of Beauxbatons. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she sank to the floor. "Marie…" She said, stuttering, sobbing. "You – you must theenk so poorly of me. I was just…it was just…" She broke off, sobs wracking her lithe frame, unable to find any excuse that could validly explain what she was doing.
Marie knelt in front of her, wiping the tear tracks on her cheeks. "You were just what, Fleur?" She asked, a cruel tilt to her voice.
Fleur's sobs loudened, her throat feeling dry, like she couldn't swallow. Marie's judging eyes were in front of her, and Fleur couldn't see around her, past her. No escape.
"I asked you a question, Fleur." She said gently.
"STOP!" Fleur screamed viciously, and Marie took a step back, startled. For a moment, Fleur burned with indignant anger, but like a house of cards, she couldn't hold it.
She was exhausted, overwhelmed. Horny. And, she knew, in the wrong.
Fleur crumpled before Marie's eyes, withdrawing into herself. An awkward second passed, before she whispered. "Stop…stop pretending you don't know."
Marie stayed silent, her features condemning, pursing her lip, eyebrows frowning.
"I'm sorry." Fleur tried.
"You followed me, watched me with Harry. Why?"
"I was just…worried—"
"Don't lie to me, Fleur. It's me."
Fleur flushed. "I was jealous, maybe. I…you know I can get possessive."
"Is that fair?"
"Non, of course, but you could 'ave told me—"
"So this is my fault?"
"Non." Fleur took a shaky breath. "I'm jealous, oui. I can't stop theenking about 'Arry. And you…"
"And you got so worked up watching us that you had to finger yourself in the corridor, where anyone can see?" Marie snorted.
"It's not…I cannot sleep," Fleur swallowed. "I smell his seed everywhere, I cannot escape it. His magic, his power."
Marie lay back on the bed languidly, her hand on her swollen stomach. She rose her Beauxbatons blue skirt up slowly, revealing her streaked thighs and her abused pussy, Harry's thick cum oozing from it, spattering her thighs and her little landing strip of pubic hair. "Is this what you want?" Marie smirked.
Fleur stared at her red swollen pussy, watched the creamy cum seep slowly, watched her friend's tummy, large with gallons of Harry's cum, her nightly dream come true.
Marie laughed at the sight of her. "Merlin, Fleur, you're such a slut. It's embarrassing."
Fleur tore her gaze away, shaking her head forcefully. "Non…" She muttered. "Non!" Fleur said again, loudly. "I'm not a slut!" Fleur muttered a final denial. "I'm not a slut.
"Oh, but you are, aren't you Fleur?" Marie's soft voice lilted through to her. "You are a slut. Just look at you, look at your juice streaking down your thighs, your skin swimming in sweat, your nipples standing to attention." Fleur blushed as she looked at herself. Maybe it was true. Maybe that was why she couldn't sleep. She was a slut.
"And your pussy is so wet, isn't it, Fleur?" Marie said gently, softly, and to Fleur, lovingly. "Come to bed, friend. You need to cum and you need to sleep." Marie held out a hand and Fleur blinked tearful eyes as she crawled onto the bed and embraced her best friend. Marie caressed her cheek tenderly, brushing up against her pale smooth skin. Fleur let herself close her eyes, melting into Marie, head nestling into the crook of her neck.
"You okay?" Marie asked.
Fleur mumbled. The room was getting to her, being in close proximity to Marie, the strong smell of his cum. Her thighs squirmed together.
"You remember how, when we used to play, you'd be so forceful with me?" Marie said gently.
"Huh?"
"You'd grab my hair and rub ta chatte along my face? Or you'd squeeze your thighs around my head."
"Marie, I…was only doing what I zought you like."
Marie's body shook with laughter. Fleur jerked in shock as her best friend took a tight hold of her hair and pulled her down the bed, to Marie's parted thighs. "And so am I. So, if you want this, you can take it." She taunted.
Fleur looked up at the brunette girl, taking a deep breath. Marie was a beautiful, enticing mess, her thighs and pussy puddled in milky-white cum, with more of Harry's load oozing from her cunt.
She couldn't resist.
Marie's hand tightened in her hair as she got to work, her friend's taunting voice resounding in her ears. "Oui, such a good Veela slut. You can be our clean-up girl when Harry visits, would you like that?"
Fleur shivered. But as she took her first tentative licks, savoring Harry's seed on her tongue, she knew immediately that she could never settle for just this, this glorious humiliation.
She had to have more.
Much more.
###
"Well, don't you look pretty." Harry smiled at his date. Katie Bell was wearing a leather jacket draped over a red sundress, patterned with white daisies. Chunky black boots completed the effect.
"You don't half bad yourself." She answered with a soft blush.
Harry looked over himself — yesterday's shirt hidden under a Gryffindor jumper, faded jeans, tan boots with odd discolored patches. He wasn't exactly at his best. He'd charmed himself instead of showering, too.
"Ah, it's all in the smile." He teased. "Won't you be cold? I think it might rain." He took her arm, tugging her through the Entrance Hall. Alongside the disdainful Filch, Dumbledore was humming cheerfully as he watched the students depart.
"Ah, Harry, just who I was looking for."
"Headmaster?" Harry said uncertainly.
"You wouldn't, perhaps, get me some Toothflossing Stringmints, would you? I've run out and I've always thought the mix of sweets and dental care a most enchanting one."
"I'll…do what I can, Headmaster." Harry smiled, amused. "I was rather hoping you'd join us at Hogsmeade today, given recent events." He said lightly. He definitely didn't want to take Katie out without the Headmaster's protection — it was the only reason he was still going out.
"Ah, I shall indeed shortly. Unfortunately, Mr. Cartwright has asked for an emergency meeting." Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle. "It seems that, ahead of the imminent election, he is quite concerned that Hogwarts is hosting pro-Madam Bones fervor that is indoctrinating our youth into her 'liberal Light' nonsense."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "The pamphlets that Susan's giving out?"
"Indeed."
Harry snorted. He couldn't imagine the political nonsense that Dumbledore had to deal with. "Well, good luck with that. I'll get you your Stringmints and be on the lookout for any…undesirables."
Dumbledore nodded, even as he pinched his lips. "The Professors will be there, of course."
They exited through the Entrance Hall and out into the cool chill of the early winter.
"What was all that about?" Katie frowned.
"Ah, just making sure Voldie won't be able to interrupt our hot date."
"Do you really think—?"
"No, not at all." Harry shook his head, though he wasn't so sure. He couldn't trust any venture outside of Hogwarts' walls, not after what had happened with Hannah, but if Dumbledore was there…well, Tom didn't attack Hogwarts for a reason. "But you can't be too careful. I've got some DA members out and about with some plans, just in case. Though I'm pretty sure the only danger we have today is from the weather." Harry peered up at the clouds above. A little gray.
"I don't think it'll rain. Besides, you can keep me warm, can't you?" Katie looked at him innocently.
Their footsteps crunched on the rubble as they made their way down the hill towards Hogsmeade, the little pebbles gleaming with etches of frost.
"Minx." Harry breathed out his word, watching as his word became mist in the chill. With a wave of his wand, the mist literally formed into the word 'Minx' and then dissipated into sparks. He cast a Warming Charm on her anyway and then, for good measure, took her hand.
Katie just watched in fascination. "When did you become such a little Dumbledore?"
"It's all parlor tricks, believe me."
"I don't." She squeezed his hand. "I can't believe it's finally here. I feel like I've been waiting for Hogsmeade forever."
"Oh yeah? Got a hot date?" Harry wiggled his brows.
Katie snorted, but she said nothing. Then, as her face reddened, she looked away, swiping her brown hair over her ear. "I have to convince this guy I've known forever that I'm not a slut just because we played around a little."
"Katie, it's fine." He slid his arm around her waist as they walked slowly. "It's me, Harry, right? No need to pretend with me. We're young and having fun, we don't need to justify anything."
"I know." Katie studied her shoes. "I've just never done anything like that. It was just the giddiness of winning over Slytherin and some butterbeer and—"
"I don't regret it. It was so sexy, seeing how hot you got." Harry pulled her into his side.
Katie swatted his chest. "Stop! I would never have done anything like that if you weren't so touchy-touchy all of a sudden. I don't know when you grew up, suddenly. You're going to be like Lee Jordan and spouting terrible pick-up lines, soon."
Harry chuckled. "Something like, say, sit on my lap and see what else grows up?"
"Harry!" She gasped.
"Alright, alright," He held his hands up, laughing. "I'm done."
"You're so bad." She said, grabbing his hand a little tighter. The other students were streaming around them, all eager to stock up at Honeydukes and drink themselves silly in The Three Broomsticks. Katie held her head up as she received a whole host of looks from the other students, including some particularly dark looks from the girls.
"I feel like I'm about to be attacked." Katie muttered to him, before she raised an eyebrow at a particularly surly Gryffindor. Romilda something, Harry figured.
"Don't worry, I, Lord Potter, destroyer of Dark Lords, shall save you from the mean little girls."
"I think it might be me saving you today." Katie squeezed his hand. "If you came into Hogsmeade single, you might get mobbed. I've never seen so much skin, everyone's so relieved to be free of McGonagall's dress code."
She wasn't wrong, Harry mused. For a cool winter day, there were a lot of skirts and strappy heels.
"Pomfrey's going to be busy when they all come back with colds." Harry snorted.
"She'll be lucky if it's just a cold, if they keep glaring at me." Katie scowled.
"The price of fame." He sighed, smirking. "It's a cold, lonely life. You never know if someone wants you for your celebrity or if they just want you for your hot bod—"
"Oh, please." She smacked him. "I've known you since were a scrawny boy who could barely climb onto the Gryffindor table."
"Ouch." Harry grinned. "I was still very manly, I think."
"You almost drowned in the Sorting Hat. It was around your neck."
"It had to go that low to envelop my big brain."
"You were so small, I heard the seventh years had to cast Concealment Charms under their skirts so they didn't flash you."
"Oh, that's just mean!" Harry shoulder-bumped her. "They had to cast Chilling Charms, I imagine, because even at that age, I was a lady killer."
"You used to eat so much and so messy, just like Ron, like it was your last meal. Remember Angelina having a go at you because you splattered some soup on her top?"
"She didn't forgive me until I caught the snitch." Harry smiled fondly. "I'd forgotten. Are they out today?"
"I'm sure they're around. I said we'd have a drink with them later — I think they're afraid you're going to have your wild ways with me."
"Quite right, too." Harry agreed. "I can't be trusted."
She looked up at him with worried eyes. "Are you mad?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"Just, you know, I didn't know if you wanted this to be, like, a me and you only date. Like you wanted to continue…the other night." She fidgeted.
"It's fine, Katie." He tapped her nose. "I just wanted to spend some time with you, it doesn't matter where."
Katie blushed. "Well, I did want to get a nice kiss or two. Maybe one of those hickeys that Angelina is always sporting."
"A kiss from Katie Bell?" Harry pinched her hip. "I can't pass that up. Here, let me show you something." As the crowds teemed into the pub, the shops and the cafes, he led them through the village and across the river, into a quiet green clearing that steepened as they climbed the hill.
"I've never been out here before." Katie said, her tone a little hesitant as she saw an old stone building in front of them, covered in moss and overgrown weeds growing through the brick cracks. Harry ambled ahead and pushed open the door.
"What is this?" She wondered, peering in warily.
"This is Dogweed and Deathcap."
"What and what now?"
Harry grinned. "It used to be a shop that sold exotic plants and flowers, the dangerous sort, way back in the day. Like a hundred years ago or more."
Inside, it was barren, soil fighting with stone for space on the floor, and what wasn't covered in dirt was instead covered in dust. Broken furniture, a rotting wooden counter-top. Katie took a step back, seeing thick green spiked vines on the wall growing towards them eagerly.
"No, thank you." Harry murmured, whispering a spell. The vines screeched and clamped back onto the wall. Venomous Tentacula.
"Weird date idea, Harry." Katie sneezed because of the dust and then giggled suddenly.
"Ah, not weird. Incredibly thoughtful. See, Nev tells me you're struggling a little in your sixth year course of Herbology."
Katie rolled her eyes. "Nev needs to stop meeting Professor Sprout over lunch like a teacher's pet, and mind his own business." She sighed, deflated. "There's a big step up from OWLs to NEWT-level classes. I don't know how I'm going to get through this year, let alone pass the exams next year."
Harry tapped the side of his nose. "And detective Longbottom said you're not getting enough time with these blasted Venomous Tentacula, because Sprout is so nervous about it killing one of the students."
Katie sighed, glaring at the vines on the wall. "We're meant to write a paper at the end of the year on how to grow one from seed to full life, but I got grabbed by one in our first lesson, and now she won't trust me at all."
"Don't worry," Harry snapped his fingers, squatting into the soil and tracing his wand over the ground. "I got you."
"What are you doing?"
"The shop went under but the plants lived on. Everyone was too afraid to take the inventory." Harry peered up at the roof — the rafters straining with the weight of the thick vines. "The plants but also…ah-ha!" He pulled a thin box from the deep under the soil, a faded box the size of a matchbox, cardboard yellowed. He slid it open carefully. "The seeds." Harry said triumphantly. He held it in his hands.
"Are you serious?" Katie took the box.
"Venomous Tentacula. A seed waiting to be grown in your dorm room, where you can experiment all you like." Harry scratched the side of his head. "Maybe keep it somewhere you don't sleep, actually."
"Harry…" Katie shook her head. "This is amazing! This is going to help me so much, you don't even know. How did you find out about this place?"
He hesitated. Tom knew about it — he'd been on the search for Chinese Chomping Cabbages, a key ingredient for the Skele-Gro potions. Tom had lost thrice to a talented Lebanese duelist who had a propensity for bone-breaking curses, and was quite sure that the only way to beat her was to learn to cast without the bones in his arms. As practice, Tom did a whole tournament in the Middle East with vanished arm bones — and still won it. Harry didn't like to think about what he'd done to the Lebanese witch after finally besting her.
"Just one of my many adventures." Harry flashed a smile. He turned to the wall and began excising the vines from the wall with careful Cutting Charms.
"What are you doing?"
"Just getting a few things for Neville. Part of my 'just in case' plan. I've got a few DA members out and about today and since I'm here, I figured I would make sure Neville has all the weaponry he needs."
Katie looked skeptical. "Aren't you being a little paranoid?"
"Yes," Harry admitted. "But I had an unpublicized run-in with Voldie, recently."
Her eyes went wide. "You did?! What, when? Where?"
"It doesn't matter." He dismissed her as he stuffed the vines into a conjured bag. "I got away safe, but it made me think I need to be a little paranoid, going forward. I've got a target on my back."
Katie swallowed.
"Hey, it's okay." He dropped the bag and took her cheek in his hand. "I'm alright. You're alright. We're safe."
"You sure?" She bit her lip.
"More than sure. Now, give me a kiss before one of these vines escapes the bag and eats us?"
Katie fluttered her eyelashes. "I think you're the most dangerous thing in here, Harry." But she slid her arms around his neck, leaning into him, eyes closing. She kissed him hard, eagerly, giggling as her teeth clanked into his in her passion. He had one hand at her back, the other in her long hair, tugging her closer.
She was needy, breathing heavily, refusing to let him pull away and Harry lost himself in their kiss, amused at her appetite and her dueling tongue. He held her hair and then wrenched her back, letting her take a heavy breath, and then kissed her once more. This time, he took advantage of her distraction to explore her body, sliding her dress up her thighs.
"Harry…" Katie moaned, as he groped her toned ass unashamedly, fingers finding her skimpy panties. Her cold hands were sliding up his jumper, tracing his muscles.
He tugged her hair to pull her back, giving him access to her neck, lips sucking her skin to give her the hickey she wanted. Katie wasn't the pale cream-skinned beauty of Daphne, she was something different; tanned, athletic, a sporty girl ready for some rough and tumble.
"Didn't you want to go slow?" Harry said into her ear as he held her dress up around her waist, his finger circling patterns over her panties. He could feel her netherlips through the fabric as she clamped onto his shoulder, trembling. She'd obviously not had much experience.
"I, fuck, I guess." Katie groaned. "Can you just like…do something for me?"
"Sure?"
"Just lie down a sec. I need to…I need to—" She mumbled, covering her face from him.
Harry conjured a blanket and laid down, raising his eyebrow. What did she have in mind?
She blushed as she shimmied down her panties. Pink panties clutched in her hand, she lowered herself onto his groin, his bulge straining his jeans into a large peak.
"I just, like, I don't want you to touch me." Katie bit her lip. "I know that doesn't make sense, but I promised the girls that I wasn't gonna do anything on the first date, because they want me to value myself."
"This might count as doing something." Harry said dryly, as Katie placed a hand on his abdomen and started rocking back and forth, dry-humping herself on his jean-clad crotch.
"I'm still dressed. I'm a good girl, oooh yeah, fuck," Katie closed her eyes as she ground down on him. Harry just laid back and enjoyed — it felt good for him too, even though it was a little painful, his cock getting rubbed through his jeans, trapped in her heat.
But, as he laid his head on his hands, it reminded him of how far he'd come. How he used to take his pleasures — tight hugs with Hermione at the start of the term and the end of them. Hugs with his Chasers when he won a Quidditch match. His cock straining against his jeans, trying to stop himself from rubbing himself against them.
Closing his eyes when he took himself in hand, thinking of every flash of skin from the Hogwarts girls, every flash of panty when he flew under the Chasers during training, Fleur in her swimsuit at the Second Task, the feeling of her hugging him when he rescued her little sister.
The other boys in his year still did that. But now he didn't have to. He ground himself into Hermione's bottom when he slept, jerked off by her when he was awake. He went home some lunchtimes to bury himself in Narcissa, coming inside her. All he had to do was snap his fingers and one of his girls would throat his cock.
Katie rocked faster, her hips circling, holding her own breasts through her dress. Harry smiled. He had to let himself enjoy the little moments, born from the lies that the girls of Hogwarts told themselves, desperate to be both virginally pure and roughly fucked. Was it pureblood society that warped their minds, or Morgana's legacy, or even the greater society at large?
Perhaps Hermione would call it patriarchy.
"Are you a good girl, Katie?" Harry asked absently, enjoying the show.
She groaned, pawing at her tits, humping him hard and fast, jerking her hips back and forth. "I'm a good girrrrl!" She cried as she came, trembling on his cock, her whole body stilled for a moment before she fell forward onto his chest, her hair splayed across his face.
Harry spit out a strand of her hair, holding her back as she breathed heavily. "Yeah, you are." He mused, stroking her hair.
"Merlin," Katie rubbed her face into his neck. "Sorry, Harry. You're so much better than my pillow." She squeezed her thighs together. "So big and hard and hot. Mmm…" She said lazily. "I really needed that."
"You're welcome."
Her head raised up to look at him. "Sorry, Harry, I didn't do anything for you, I'm—"
"It's okay," He soothed. "When you're ready."
"I can jerk you off or like, suck—"
"I think your friends are waiting for us at the pub, Katie." Harry said gently.
She groaned, peering down at his erection between her thighs. "I'm not one of those girls that doesn't give and take, just so you know."
"I never thought you were." He smirked. "But when we have some time, I'm gonna take, take, take."
She went red, even as she carefully lifted herself off him. His jeans were dark with her juices. "This date was meant to be for getting to know you more."
"We know each other plenty." Harry assured her. "Plus now I feel like I know a lot more about you. Such a dirty girl." He took her hand to hoist himself up.
"Stop it! Although that's kind of the nice thing, it's so comfortable with you, I can be a bit naughty." She said admiringly, wiping dirt from his clothes. "Perks of having known you since you were—"
"A scrawny little boy?"
"Not little anymore." Katie bit her lip, her hand dropping to his crotch. Then she grabbed his hand, giggling, giddy and swinging his hand back and forth. "I can't believe I just did that." She buried her head into his shoulder as he took her out of the house.
"Felt like you needed it."
"All the Quidditch training. I get really worked up when I fly." She admitted. "The broomstick between my thighs. And my pillow is good, but it's not you."
"I like the idea of you on your pillow."
She hooked his arm with both of hers affectionately. "I have one of those cylinder shaped ones to sort myself. All the girls do. I'll show you sometime, if you're lucky."
"I feel lucky right now."
"Lucky to be used like a toy? Hardly." She snorted.
"I've got some beautiful images the next time I have to sort myself."
Katie bit her lip and shoved something into his jeans pocket. Her pink panties. "You can use this too."
"Merry Christmas, Harry." He said to himself.
She pushed him, laughing as they strode back across the river to the village itself. "I feel like I've just lost my virginity, or something. Am I red? I can't look the girls in the eye."
"You're a little flushed." He said. The village streets were quiet, today, but the loud cheers from inside the pub told him where most of the students had gone. He opened the door and looked into the revelry.
"Harry!" His name was called in five different directions as he ushered Katie into the warmth of The Three Broomsticks. The fireplaces were at full glow, illuminating the full tables. Cho and her friends waved from one, the DA Hufflepuffs at another. Not many Slytherins, today, Harry noted — perhaps they were at the The Hog's Head, instead. The house of the cunning often preferred to keep their own company.
"Katie." Angelina stood, waving them towards their large rectangular booth in the corner. She sat between Fred and George, with Alicia opposite, who hadn't noticed the twin's fake spider on her hair, just yet.
"You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks." Harry ushered Katie.
"Okay, Harry."
First, he dropped his bag of Tentacula's with Neville, who was sharing an awkward drink with Ginny Weasley. "This what you wanted?"
Neville clamped the bag shut, looking around nervously. "It was where you thought it'd be?"
"It was. It's gonna make a difference?"
Neville nodded eagerly. "I'm useless with a wand, but with these…"
"I look forward to seeing it." Harry clapped his shoulder. "Not today, though."
"Hi, Harry." Ginny stretched her arms behind her.
"Hi, Gin." Harry said politely, carefully not looking her over. He couldn't take all the Hogwarts girls — or the boys might murder him. "Catch you both later."
On the stools at the bar, Hermione was red-faced, toying with one of several empty bottles and smiling politely as Lee Jordan explained a conspiracy to her.
Lee's smile froze as Harry appeared, the boy making his excuses and heading back to the booth.
"Sorry, did I scare him off?" Harry apologized. He hadn't meant to, but he was surprised by the tight feeling in his chest, like his heart and lungs had another organ alongside them, a nasty monster clawing at his insides.
"We were just chatting, Harry." Hermione frowned. "Nothing to interrupt."
"Okay," Harry caught Rosmerta's eyes and held up two fingers. He turned to Hermione and found himself not knowing what to say.
Sorry, I shouldn 't be here with Katie. I should be three bottles deep with you, sneaking treats from the bag under the table, holding the fortune we've just spent at Honeydukes.
"Oh, honestly, Harry. You have the worst poker face in history." Hermione slapped his arm. "Stop looking at me like that. You're on a date."
"Sorry." He said out of reflex. "Sorry," He said again, because he meant it. He settled on the stool next to her, bumping shoulders with her. "I'm a mess."
She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, rather." She patted his arm, her voice softening. "But you are my mess."
"Can we hang out tonight?" Harry rubbed his arms.
"Don't you want to—"
"No," He cut her off quickly. "I want to hang out with you."
She studied him for a long moment.
"No games." He said. "I'll steal some butterbeer. I'll get Dobby to make some spaghetti bolognese, with too much red wine in it. That cheese you like, a little garlic bread on the side. And we'll stay up late talking about the theory behind Animagus transformation."
"Yeah?" Her cheeks tinged even redder.
"Yeah."
"Okay," She had a beautiful smile, when he could tease it out. "That sounds nice."
"It really does."
Butterbeers in hand, they headed to their booth. They bumped into Professor Sinistra, who beamed at them. She was a little rosy-cheeked, her long black hair falling over her pale face.
"My two favorite students."
"Hi Professor," They chorused. Harry was one of the few students who liked Astronomy — mostly because he liked it when Sinistra smiled at him.
"Pop quiz! What lunar phase is it?"
Harry scratched his ear. "Waxing crescent?"
"That's right — the lunar phase of the element of ice! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Sinistra cheered. "Don't drink too much now."
"Yes, Professor." Hermione blushed as the Professor walked away. "She should take her own advice." She muttered to him.
Harry snorted as he greeted the booth's occupants.
"Fred, George, good to see you back." Harry clapped hands with the twins. A quick wink, because they were here only because he'd invited them — he wanted them on hand, just in case.
"Not allowed on Hogwarts grounds, but they can't stop us coming here." Fred said happily.
"You brought the stuff?"
"The just in case box." Fred nodded.
"Although we've been calling it the Potter Power Paranoia box."
"Catchy." Harry slid into the booth next to Katie. "How's business?"
"Up and running soon — we're just waiting for the business license to be stamped. The Ministry is taking forever." George grumbled.
"I'll sort it." Harry promised.
"Thanks, Lord Potter, leader of Britain." Fred teased.
"Shaddup." He chuckled. "I'll just write a letter of recommendation, that's all. I'm sure it will be treated just like any other citizen's letter."
"Of course." George tapped his nose. "And what are you doing to our fair lady Katie Bell here?"
"Keeping me fair like the gentleman he is, not that it's any of your business." Katie said challengingly.
"Easy, tiger." Harry laughed. "Is this mine?" He grabbed a spare butterbeer on the table. "Thanks." He took a glug, mouth twisting. Before Tom's mind had merged into his, he'd loved the stuff. Now he found it much too sweet. Even his tastebuds had become older, he sighed.
"We've got a few things to show you, Harry, when you come by the shop." George promised. "For the war."
"Ah, it's a nice day and I'm on a date, can we not talk about the war for one minute?" Katie complained.
"It's going to get nasty real soon, Katie." Harry warned. "But you're right, it's not the time. I'll come by the shop soon."
"It's not begun, not really, has it?" Her lips twisted. "Everyone's so happy today. I know Ernie had that awful time, and Greengrass, and you had your thing but…" She shook her head. "Maybe I'm just being naive but I can pretend the war hasn't started for a bit. Harry?"
"We can." He agreed. He didn't have the luxury of sticking his head in the sand, but that didn't mean he could take it away from others. "What shall we talk about then?"
"How about this?" Katie leaned over the table furtively. "Look what Harry got me." She whispered to the group, opening her little matchbox. "Venomous Tentacula seeds so I can really show Sprout the next time she's going on about how not everyone has green fingers like Nev."
"Harry, those are dangerous." Hermione worried.
He waved her off. "It's fine, Katie will be careful."
"But they can kill, their shoots expel venom, the spikes are deadly, their bites are venomous too—"
"I'll be careful, Hermione, it's fine." Katie frowned at the Muggleborn girl. "I'll keep it in a locked room."
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, you could get in trouble. Those seeds are a Class C non-tradeable substance. If someone finds out—"
"Nobody is going to find out, because we're not going to tell anyone, are we, Hermione?" Katie growled, her voice low.
"I'm just saying, you shouldn't get Harry to do illegal things for you just because you're struggling in—"
"I didn't get him to do anything," Katie snapped. "He gave it to me, as a gift. Do you get any of those?"
Hermione's eyes blazed. "Yes, Harry gets me gifts all the time, actually—"
"Guys, stop." Harry commanded, his hand held out. The air, the magic of the place. It felt off.
"She started it." Hermione crossed her arms.
"Wait, please." Harry ordered, closing his eyes. "Something's off." He let himself feel the magic of the pub. The charms at work — sticking charms in the holes in the skirting board to stop rats, glamors on the mold on the roof, washclothes working on the glasses by themselves, sticking charms on the tray so glasses didn't spill…but beyond that. Something chilling. Something cold.
Harry stood up abruptly, his fingers cold. "Death Eaters." He said. And something else. Anti-Apparition wards.
Someone screamed, a bone chilling scream. The door to the pub opened. It was a first year girl, a Ravenclaw, a cold rush of wind behind her.
"D-Death Eaters!" She cried. A flash of green light illuminated the doorway — and when it dissipated, her eyes were wide, her mouth agape. She fell to the wooden floor, as if in slow motion. The Killing Curse.
Harry swore, grabbing his wand to amplify his voice. "Death Eaters, stay inside!" He demanded. "Anyone that can fight, with me. Those that can't, protect the lower years."
"Harry, the tunnel." Hermione said quietly, her skin pale.
Harry paused. "Try and go out the back, get the young to Honeydukes. In the cellar of Honeydukes, there's a tunnel back to Hogwarts."
"I'll show them." Lee decided. "I'm useless in a fight."
"We're with you, Harry." Fred and George said together, unpacking a box they'd brought.
"And me." Neville stood up, his fists clenching, though his chin wobbled.
"Time to get your green fingers out, Nev." Harry said shortly. The nervous boy nodded, delving into the bag Harry had brought him.
"Harry," Hannah squeaked from a nearby table. "I'm here." She said determinedly.
He nodded, striding through the panicking students. Professor Sinistra was holding her own hands nervously. "Any other Professors here?" He asked her.
"Just me." Professor Sinistra said. "The rest are still at Hogwarts. They were meant to be here, just in case."
Just my luck, Harry thought. Something must have held them up at Hogwarts. "We need to buy time for Dumbledore and rest to arrive. DA members, I need you up front."
Half the pub stood up and Harry couldn't help but smile. This was what he'd trained them for. The Death Eaters weren't going to roll over them.
"Shields up, start transfiguring the tables. Cho, get it together, that shield is wobbling. Alicia, Angelina, see if you can move the bar against the wall."
"I'm ready, Harry." Ernie declared, his jaw set firmly.
Harry patted his shoulder. "Remember what I said."
"No Expelli-fucking-armus." Ernie repeated, grinning.
"Good. Fred, George, you're on traps. This is where we hold—"
The pub began to shake, the stone vibrating so fast that it seemed to shimmer.
What spell was this?
Lifting the pub? Stone-gouging? There was so many ways to break a building's wall.
But nothing happened.
Harry searched through his memories of the First Wizarding War, trying to remember the usual tactics of the Death Eaters.
The pub creaked. Everybody watched the stone walls.
"The stone is getting bigger!" Someone said.
And he knew immediately.
Layered Engorgement Charms on the stones to cause the brickwork to fail, the clay between them grinding to dust as the stones had nowhere to go. And once it did, each stone could be summoned out. Any stone — so the Death Eaters could open up their own arrow-slits to fire through safely.
"Fuck." He muttered. They'd be rats in a giant sieve. They needed cover — the tables wouldn't do it.
Rats. The pub had rats, and if they had rats, they had…
"Rosmerta," Harry barked. "You've got a cellar underneath?"
"Y-yes, but it's small. There's a ladder in the back."
"Nevermind that." He pointed his wand at the stone beneath him. "Defodio!" An overpowered Gouging Spell melted through the stone. Almost through, but not enough. A hundred different ways to destroy the floor flittered through his mind, but he needed to conserve his energy, his magic.
"I need everyone." Harry snapped. "At the floor, Gouging Spells on three!"
The sixth and seventh years clamped together. "Defodio!" They chorused.
The stone below screeched as it was disfigured brutally, deformed into a giant hole. Some students fell in with a cry, the dust blowing up.
But the Death Eaters were done with their spells — a stone got summoned out, sudden light pouring through. And then a wand. A muttered word.
A flash of green light. The Killing Curse.
Harry was faster, powering a chair into its way just before a student died.
"Into the hole!" He ordered. The students slid and jumped down, ducking under the spells that were flying through the gaps in the wall, more and more. How many Death Eaters were there?
But, while they were sticking their wand through to fire off spells, they were giving away their location. Fred threw a firework into a hole and as it sailed through, George hit it with a Bombarda — the scream told them it landed.
Good idea. Harry sent through his own version through a different hole — a Bird Conjuring Charm entwined with an acid-twisted take on the Aguamenti that Tom had learned from the inventor of Acid Pops, of all people. An ugly prototype that Tom had favored in his own dueling.
The Oppugno Jinx made the birds target the Death Eaters — and when they tried to Vanish the birds, they exploded into melting acid.
Neville threw his own Tentacula vines through one hole, the spiky plant seizing one Death Eater around the neck and strangling him — the whole pub watched as the man's mask fell, his skin bluing as the plant took no mercy.
But the holes were getting greater, and the Death Eaters weren't taking enemies. The pub was alight with green spells, the telltale sign of the Killing Curse, that cold sensation of something invisible moving. Bodies fell left and right.
Fred growled, pulling a handful of things from their box of surprises. He tossed them into the array of holes - they swelled into a brown gelatinous mass that covered the gaps in the stones.
"Ton-Tongue Toffees." George told Harry. "Still trying to get 'em perfect."
"Good work." It had bought them time.
Most of the students were down in the safety of the cellar. "Make a tunnel, east, to Honeydukes." Harry ordered. "I'll distract them."
"Harry." Rosmerta called from behind the bar. She held up an old Comet 260 broom, twigs at odd angles.
"It'll do."
"We can fight." Susan insisted. Hannah nodded her head.
"Don't do this alone, Harry." Hermione clutched her own hand tightly. "This is what you trained us for."
"She's right." Katie interjected.
"I know." Harry admitted. "And I'm gonna need you, once it's an even playing field. For now, wait for my signal."
"What will it be?" Hermione trembled.
Harry straddled the broom. "You'll know." Up and into the rafters, aiming straight at the roof. An explosive Bombardo to make a hole for himself, sending debris down. And outside, he was away, the cold settling over his skin. But he felt hot, angry, the adrenaline sizzling through his veins. It had begun to rain, dark clouds covering the sun.
He was ready to kill. And now he could let loose.
Off the broom and on the edge of the roof, fingers sinking into the wet moss that had built up in the gutter pipes. He leaned over. Ten Death Eaters, but he only needed one.
"Imperio." Harry caught the one on the side.
Kill.
The man's mind struggled, rejecting him, but Harry threw him into a mass of memories of death and murder.
The man opened his eyes, and only then did his colleagues look like Harry Potter himself.
"Avada Kedavra." He muttered. The other Death Eater dropped.
"Walton, what the fuck—"
But Walton struck again. Harry didn't care — he had much more up his sleeve. A complex transfiguration, taking him valuable seconds. The gutter drain kept its long cylindrical shape on the edge of the roof, but now it was lined with sharp daggers on every side. A quick spell to unlatch it from its supports, and another to send it smashing down on the Death Eaters below. The sound of squishy flesh told him that most of them were pulverized.
"Up above, he's on the roof!" One of them growled.
"Time to go," Harry muttered, swinging onto his broom. High into the sky, to see the battlefield. His heart sank — there were more Death Eaters, so many more. How had Tom recruited so many?
They were in Honeydukes, firing into Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, swarming over Hogsmeade. Bodies covered the Hogsmeade streets, puddles of water growing around them like little graves. The rain was heavy, heavy enough to be loud, the patter of drops so thick it clouded his thought.
Where did he begin? And where the fuck was Dumbledore?
There was only one thing for it.
"Morsmordre." He muttered. Not the Dark Mark, but his own symbol. A lightning bolt that flattened a dead skull. A light in the dark. And a message to all the Death Eaters.
Come and get me.
"It's Potter!" One yelled.
"Ickle baby Potter has come out to play." A familiar voice, that sickening cutesy tone. Bellatrix.
Harry hovered at the end of the village, towards the path he'd taken Katie on, watching as the black cloaks and white masks swarmed toward them. A barrage of spells shot his way, but a simple roll dodged all of them.
Harry watched the great puddles in the uneven cobbled road, watching as they grew, a spell coming to mind.
The Death Eaters hadn't taken note of the fact they'd lost control of the Three Broomsticks, and as they charged past, they were hit with a colorful array of curses. The DA — Hermione, Ron and the Gryffindor Chasers stood at the front, strong shields at the ready, while behind, Hannah, Susan, Ernie, the twins and the rest threw curses out.
Not all of them were deadly — Harry was sure he spotted more than a few Disarming Charms, but they worked well enough. It clumped the Death Eaters in a confused group, unsure whether to go forward for Harry or to attack the students. And Harry took advantage.
A spell not in the Hogwarts curriculum, a spell he'd learned from the sherpas of Nepal, spells to control the weather so that they could climb their mountains safely. The ground shook. The air thrummed with energy. Through the bond, he felt Hannah buckle to the ground as he drained her, taking her power, taking her magic. He needed all she had.
And when his wand was so hot he could barely hold it, he unleashed his might.
Lightning sparked, a sizzling bolt that he drew down from the clouds, tracing it down with his wand, pushing all his magic into it. Into the group of Death Eaters and the puddle they stood in. They were fried, a blue shot arcing from one to the other like an electrified Snitch, the smell of their cooked flesh reaching even his nose.
"Knew it was gonna rain." He muttered, kicking his broom down to join his friends. More Death Eaters were coming down the street.
Harry jumped off his broom to join his DA members.
Ron was looking between the pile of fried Death Eaters and back at him, his mouth agape. "How did you do that?"
Instead of answering, he conjured a chair to block a curse heading for Ron. "Maybe it was divine intervention." He pushed the boy away. "Spread out, quick!" He urged, swatting away an ugly black spell. "Use the buildings!"
"Harry, please, be careful!" Hannah begged before Susan tugged her away.
As they dispersed, Harry stood alone in the middle of the street, three shields catching spells. He frowned. The Death Eaters were splitting up too, heading into the side alleys, behind the shops. Weren't they here for him?
"Am I not famous anymore?" He scowled, seeing Bellatrix dip behind Madam Puddifoot's cafe.
Another bolt from the sky — only this wasn't his. Through the dark cloud, through the rain, a silhouette descended. Harry's stomach sank.
Voldemort. Like smoke on the wind, his snake face sneering, his white fingers raised in greeting.
"Hello, Tom." Harry said quietly. Despite his fear, he couldn't help the little frisson of excitement. A chance to test himself, to use all that Tom had taught him, to see what power he received from bonding the girls. A chance to go all out.
"Harry. You didn't reply to my letter." Voldemort smiled thinly.
"What letter?"
"Come now, let's not play games."
"I rather like games." They stood in a classic dueling standoff, in the centre of the street, next to Honeydukes. The rain soaked them both.
The Dark Lord tilted his head. "Then here's one. Let's play our roles from the Daily Prophet. I kill, you save." Voldemort stabbed his wand out — and at the edge of Honeydukes, a little Slytherin girl floated out from where she'd been hiding behind a bin. Voldemort jabbed his wand, the glow of familiar green. The Killing Curse shot out, that silent rush of pure power. Harry was faster — his wand summoning the metal lattice of the Honeydukes sign to block the curse. Then, with a jerk of his wand, he half-smacked half-floated the sign once more to roughly throw the girl closer to him — summoning people was a fool's game.
Up close, he realized she was the littlest Greengrass. Astoria cried, desperate eyes staring up at him.
"Behind me." He muttered. "You're fine."
"Oh, bravo, Harry Potter. But can you duel and protect her at the same time?"
Harry snarled, Astoria's desperate expression etched in his mind as she hid behind his legs. "Your fight is with me."
"Then give me your fight, Harry Potter." Voldemort hissed.
Harry thrust a curse forward, something that would have had the Dark Lord coughing out his organs. The man let it sail past.
"My, my, where did you learn that one?" Voldemort taunted.
Harry smiled thinly. The man thought he was getting the Harry Potter of old. But Harry lived with Tom in his mind, living with every memory of his fights, his tricks. Of all the wizards in the world, there was no fighting style that Harry was more familiar with.
Like a mantra, Harry played Tom's favorite spells in his head. First, the Unforgivables.
The red light of the Cruciatus — Harry levitated a fallen Death Eater in front of it. The man's tortured screams told them that he wasn't dead just yet.
Voldemort's following Killing Curse changed that.
The Imperius came next, but not at Harry. No, instead Voldemort cast three of them, pointing at Honeydukes, where students peered from the doorway or in the shop window.
Harry was set upon by three Hogwarts' students, charging forward like rhino's, unthreatening.
But Harry knew Tom's game. The challenge was to remove them from the fight safely. Tom had used the same trick when he'd murdered Amelia Bones' parents, back in the 80s, using the Imperius to manipulate Amelia and her brother Edgar to attack their own parents.
And the only way to win the game was not to play. So instead, Harry began his first chain of attacks. He foraged deep into Voldemort's bag of spells, magic of old, magic born from far away. Magic without incantation, sometimes.
A ice stalactite from above. A Transfiguration of the road's stone cobbles, wrenching them up to form barking stone dogs that rushed forward. A Talon-Clipping Charm that the Dragon Handlers of Romania used to care for their dragons — but when overpowered and used on humans, it took their fingers entirely.
Tom snarled as he had to drop out of the minds of the kids, forced to defend himself from the dogs that rushed him, Harry's airborne ice spike dropping through his black cloak and momentarily pinning him to the road, an anchor to a ship.
The students, freed from the Imperius, scampered to safety. And at Harry's urging, Astoria ran too. And as she ran to safety, Harry clipped her with an Imperius Curse.
Get your sister, get the DA. I need a little crowd work. A message into her mind, one he couldn't risk voicing.
Tom snarled, calm countenance turning to fury. He swung his wand and Harry's stone dogs burst into flame and were turned back at him. Harry clipped their legs, imagining, for an absurd moment, that they were Aunt Marge's bulldog Ripper.
Harry smiled — but he knew Tom was only just getting started. After the Unforgivables, Harry knew what came next.
Tom held his wand up like a totem pole, a brilliant glowing shield catching Harry's curses. He rolled his wand in his hands like he was trying to spark a fire, and slowly, the fallen Death Eaters on the road began to ragdoll their way towards him, limp corpses dragged towards him.
Tom's face was covered in sweat as he muttered a complex incantation.
Harry didn't wait. "Fiendfyre." He murmured. Furious flame torched from his wand, fire that covered the street, burning heat drying his skin. He kept the fire low, trying to keep control of it, even as it tried to escape him, as it melted the very cobbles on the street into molten dark lava, like black curdled cream.
Voldemort gasped as his complex spell completed and every fallen Death Eater stood up at once, their necks and limbs contorted at odd angles. Their eyes cloudy and white.
Inferi. New puppets, a reanimated army. But Harry had prepared for them, a swimming pool of Fiendfyre that they needed to walk through. He'd thought Tom would think of a solution, but the Dark Lord only marched his puppets through the Fiendfyre without care.
"Oh, Harry." Tom tutted. "Can you really control Fiendfyre?"
Harry grimaced as he held the flames around him, the sulphuric stench choking his throat. It felt like his own eyebrows were aflame. "Clearly?"
"But can you do it when you're distracted?" Tom was done playing around. A flick of his wand and from Harry's Fiendfyre, a beast of flame grew, a four-legged lion of spitting fire that charged forward. Harry swore, losing control of the Fiendfyre in order to cast spells at the fire-lion.
Only none of his spells worked, his spells sinking through it. A fierce burst of water did nothing, so Harry tried wind. A stabbed wand and a tornado thrust forward. The flame-lion was sent back into the masterless Fiendfyre but it emerged once more — and this time it was side by side with the Inferi, weak and shredded by the fire, but limping forward still.
Harry growled — he needed his own monsters. A glance to the side and he brought the torn Honeydukes metal sign to bear, ripping it into pieces. The 'H' became a flying metallic hornet, glinting as it rose above the out of control flames to attack Tom. The rest of the sign shrieked as Harry contorted each letter into metal spears, spears which shot into the coming Inferi.
The Inferi fell but the flame-lion was intact. Harry wrenched his wand up, and the cobbled street came up with it, a stone throne that trapped the lion two feet above the ground, like a chalice. The lion roared.
And Tom scowled.
Harry smiled, the adrenaline of the fight shooting through him. This was what he wanted. To take the gloves off. He just hoped the others were getting away safely, as Tom's Death Eaters were still swarming over Hogsmeade.
Dumbledore was still nowhere to be seen — likely his meeting with Cartwright had been a trap, the candidate one of Tom's minions.
It mattered not.
Harry could do it himself. All he wanted was to see the man bleed.
"Your Death Eaters are even more useless than when they lived." Harry taunted.
Tom didn't answer, protecting himself from the Fiendfyre that Harry had lost control of as it burned down the street. Under his power, the flames were dominated down to embers, but their smoke billowed up into the skies, thick and making Harry's incantations die into coughing fits.
Harry stilled, a cold chill running down his spine as suddenly he was blind, separated from Tom by thick gray smoke. Only the smoke flashed green and Harry threw himself to the side. Over and over, the wall of smoke colored with green lights, Killing Curses shooting out, but each light also revealed Tom's position.
Harry rotated his wand in a circle, creating little bolts of electricity, bolts that thickened to become spears. They shot forward and Harry knew his aim was true when he heard the Dark Lord scream in rage.
The smoke dissipated due to their joint casts and they were left to evaluate each other. Harry was pretty sure his own eyebrows had been burned away. But Tom's arm was blackened as he held it with his hand, blue sparks dancing over his fingers.
"First blood?" Harry mocked.
"Gods do not bleed." Tom seethed. "And you know nothing of what might I hold—"
He held his wand up suddenly to stop Harry's crack of a fire whip. "Dumbledore's favorite spell." Tom said wonderingly. "Does the old man teach you?"
"I stand on my own two feet." Harry said simply.
And they began again.
###
"How's he doing?" Fred asked George as they delved deep into their trunk of misdeeds, throwing things out behind them. Around them, the students piled into the Honeydukes tunnel under the supervision of Lee Jordan, while the DA members held the windows and doors from the encroaching Death Eaters.
"Where is that bitch?" Neville shouted as he strode down the cellar, his school tie wrapped around his bloody forehead, a canvas bag tied around his hip. "Where is Bellatrix?!"
George exchanged wide eyes with Fred as Angelina tried to calm down the angry boy. "Someone's took too much Pepper-Up." George muttered.
"What happened?" Alicia frowned. "Where are the others?"
"Bellatrix, I don't know. She showed up, we got separated. Hannah and Susan went one way, we another. I had her, she just vanished!" Neville growled.
"Is it time?" Fred asked into his trunk.
"I checked the window." George answered. "I think it's time. Harry's doing some Dumbledore shit but we need to—"
Daphne barreled down the steps into the cellar, holding her dark-haired sister protectively. "Astoria says Harry gave her a message — he needs some distractions."
"And fast!" Astoria jutted her chin up, clenching her fist.
"We're working on it." Fred pulled a large firework from the trunk.
George grinned. "That's not quite ready."
"Exactly." Fred said.
"I'll help Harry." Neville reached into his bag and brandished armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, staring around at the others like they were going to argue him down.
"Right behind you." Heaving a giant black firework on their shoulders, they stepped past the exiting lower years, up the cellar steps and then up again to the second floor. By the window, Ron, Ernie and Justin had their faces pressed to the glass.
"Move!" George barked. They wrenched the windows open and peered out onto the carnage of the street.
The Hogsmeade road was melted, what was once stone was now a black oozing mess, like a volcano had erupted in the village. And Harry was floating above a blue-skinned ice bear as it snapped at his heels. The Boy-Who-Lived just ignored it, wrenching his arm back and forth as he fired off spells that made Honeydukes itself shake.
"Harry can fly now." George muttered.
"Of course." Fred snorted. "Why wouldn't he be able to?" He shook his head.
Harry could do anything, was casting spells that Fred realized he couldn't even make sense of. A cloud, torn from the sky and spiraling from Harry's wand, just a disguise for the Animated rats that formed like jelly out of the molten lava, scampering black menaces that shot under the cloud to bite at Voldemort's feet.
Only that was another disguise, because the metal spears embedded in the faces of dead Death Eaters, standing up like gravestones, began to wriggle. One of the spears still looked like the 'O' of the Honeydukes sign, but now the metal melted into a goo that formed into a snake of barbed wire. It sprang forward through the cloud and Fred realized that it was time for their distraction.
"Now, George!"
George lit the firework and together they both heaved the huge thing out of the window and aimed it at the Dark Lord.
BOOM! Their ear bled, their breaths stolen, as the prototype firework exploded away. Like a missile, it lit the Dark Lord up into beautiful blue flame.
"We got him—" Fred began, but the flame disappeared, the Dark Lord shielded in a golden translucent bubble. Only something else was in the bubble too — Harry's barbed wire snake. It coiled around the Dark Lord's feet, tearing his robes to pieces. Bloody robes, Fred noted. It tightened around Voldemort's ankles, spikes tearing into his flesh, and it was like a wet kitchen sponge squeezed, only instead of soapy water, blood sprayed.
"I thought gods didn't bleed." Harry mocked. Fred thought his heart was going to beat right out of his chest — Harry had the biggest balls since Merlin himself.
The Dark Lord zigzagged his wand and the barbed wire was torn free and sent back at their window. A single breath later and Fred was staring at the barbed wire spikes, an inch from his face, caught by the brick wall of the shop.
The Weasley twins watched one of the spikes drip blood. Voldemort's blood.
"Fred?"
"Yes, George?"
"I think we're out of our element here. Anything else we can help Harry with?"
"Not unless you can get Voldie to eat a Canary Cream."
"Time to make a swift but heroic exit." George finished. His mouth twisted in distaste. "But I don't want to leave Harry alone."
Neville watched, his whole body shaking. "House Longbottom stays." He said quietly.
"Nev, we might do better getting down that tunnel—"
"I said, House Longbottom stays. To protect its ally." Neville said firmly, holding the vines of a green spiky plant.
"As does House Macmillan." Ernie echoed.
"I can't leave my best mate, Fred." Ron didn't look away from the window. "It don't matter if I can help or not."
"Uh, right you are." Fred exchanged another look with George.
He didn't know if the boys were drunk on adrenaline or Pepper-Up, but whatever it was, Fred just hoped it wouldn't get them killed.
###
Harry gasped out a heavy breath. He was flagging, his magic coming out heavy and slow. He'd caught something in his shoulder, something that burned.
But despite all that, he was vibrating with the thrill of it. He'd made the Dark Lord bleed. The man that killed his parents was bleeding. Voldemort raged, snarled and whipped curses back at him.
He'd drained Hannah dry of her power as he sought to keep the duel going. Despite the fact Tom was bleeding, his steps slow, his legs gouged and bleeding heavily, the man was still throwing spells without resistance; elemental spears, tornadoes, whips, Transfigured creatures, devilish charms.
If only the other girls were here, he thought. He could keep fighting.
Tom stepped up the ante and Harry had to form the molten road into pillars to block the angry curses. A spear of ice whistled against his cheek, slicing it into blood red and frosted blue.
He crouched down and grabbed a handful of pebbles, hot to the touch, and threw them up, shot them forward with a Depulso, and behind each of them, layered a different curse. A Bone-Breaker, a Sectumsempra, even an Egyptian curse that burst the internal organs, with enough power.
But the Dark Lord's shield protected him from all of them. "Sectumsempra, who taught you that? Allow me to show you how to cast it properly."
Harry threw up a powerful shield, a golden bubble that buzzed with energy. Voldemort's spell tore through it, making Harry throw himself sideways.
From the ground, vision blurry, Harry saw figures at the Honeydukes window. Neville. "Depulso!" The boy cried. Thick green spiked vines shot at the Dark Lord, the man's serpentine features cast in surprise.
Harry took advantage of it, a distraction for another Transfiguration — splitting a fallen Death Eater cloak into green ropes, shallow emulations of Neville's plant vines. But when Harry shot the ropes towards him, Tom couldn't know which was the real Tentacula or not, and when the man tried to vanish the real plant, the vines just latched onto his arms, spikes sinking into his flesh.
Harry grinned. Neville had bravery beyond measure. Tom wasn't so admiring, and as Ron and Ernie appeared in the small window, wands glowing, Tom responded with a Blasting Curse, one so powerful it smashed into the top floor of the Honeydukes and disintegrated the entire wall, revealing Neville, Ron and Ernie bloodied and battered on the floor. They limped away.
Harry took a deep breath. The Dark Lord was bloodied, but Harry had nothing else left in the tank, his shields faltering, his spells losing their power. All the while, the rain poured. He thought he heard his friends yelling from inside Honeydukes, but it was hard to hear over the thumping in his own head, the rage, the fear, the fight.
And the Dark Lord advanced slowly, limping. Harry tried every trick: a conjured snake left in a puddle as the Dark Lord advanced, to bite the ankle. Tom vanished it. He let strips of his own clothing be torn off as he retreated, Transfiguring them into more fanged vines. Tom just cut them into pieces. A cloud of smoke so he could retreat, but Tom blew it away.
Every trick he had, he'd learned from Voldemort. He tried every avenue of magic, searching for an advantage, knowing that every great wizard could use all magics with ease.
Transfiguration to turn a fallen Death Eater mask on the ground into a white Bludger.
Charms to banish the Bludger at the Dark Lord, to Engorge it.
Ancient Runes - a rune drawn on the ground to enhance his speed.
But he wasn't fast enough, catching a nasty curse on his leg, one that had him limping.
"Your dueling style is not dissimilar to my own, Harry. At least, when you're not resorting to foolish tricks, when you have power to call on." Tom called as Harry batted away a Cruciatus curse, retreating all the while as Tom came forth.
Harry spat out a little blood. Maybe that was the clue to winning this duel. Using something Tom didn't know or something he'd forgotten. But what magic did Harry know that Tom didn't?
There was hardly anything. The rain fell heavier, the downpour like a monsoon from the stars above, creating large puddles amongst the cobbles.
The stars…Harry thought suddenly. The stars and the constellations, the lunar phases. The class everyone at Hogwarts thought was useless, only given marginally more respect than Binn's history class because Professor Sinistra was so beautiful.
The class she taught, that Hogwarts kept in the curriculum, because the lunar phases actually mattered. Different elements and avenues of magic became stronger in some phases, weaker in others. An Incendio during one phase could torch a house down. A Lumos in another would light the whole night.
And right now it was waxing crescent, which enhanced every spell of ice.
"I found your award in the trophy room in my first year. Special Award for Services to the School, remember?" Harry breathed heavily. "After that, I read up on you." A poor excuse, but it would have to do. "Know what else I know about your school days? The class you hated most, the one you thought was a waste of time?"
Tom snorted as he stepped forward, in a puddle.
Harry smirked. "Astronomy."
He thrust his wand and the puddle instantly froze, the ice climbing swiftly up Tom's leg, ice so cold it emanated a frosty mist, and the ice kept climbing, locking him in place tightly.
"Sectumsempra." Harry snapped. He aimed for the chest but the spell seared into Tom's shoulder and caused a vicious spout of blood. The Dark Lord let out an agonized scream that split the air of the street.
Voldemort held his shoulder in shock, fury in his narrowed eyes. A swish of his wand and the ice vanished, another and he was floating in the sky. Harry rose up in the air to match him.
And instantly knew it was a mistake.
Harry only knew how to fly from Voldemort's memories, but he wasn't practiced at it, at using the localized Levitation Charm underneath him. And Voldemort simply rushed him, flying inches from him, his wand lanced through Harry's tenuous shield. "Sectumsempra!" His white fingers painted an X in mid-air, and then slashed through it with his wand, a white light that Harry couldn't escape.
Blood spurted from his chest, agony shooting through his every nerve. He looked down to see scarlet pouring from him, coating a hand he didn't remember placing there. He tried to mutter a spell, a shield, but only gurgled blood, coughing claret onto his chin as he found himself on the ground.
How had he gotten here?
"That's enough, Tom." Harry blinked through wet eyes, to see Dumbledore striding forward, anger blazing through eyes that usually twinkled.
"Albus. What took you so long?"
"You know very well, Tom. What pleasure do you take in all this loss? Can you not see how this leads nowhere?"
Tom peered over his shoulder at Harry, who struggled to his feet. "See, Harry?" He whispered, licking his pale lips. "He doesn't understand. Not like you do."
"I understand your obsession with power and pain well enough, Tom." Dumbledore said simply. "No more."
"Shall I tell him, Harry?" Tom taunted. "Shall I tell him what you've done in the search of power? How you follow in my footsteps—"
"Harry protects innocent life, like he has always done, a lesson that neither you or I taught him, Tom." Dumbledore said quietly. He never needed to shout — he had all the authority he needed. "Do we need to battle once more to prove what we already know, or will you depart?"
"And people think me arrogant." Voldemort sneered. "Very well, Albus. Let's see if you've aged gracefully since I've been gone. But first, let me finish my game with Harry."
He turned to face Harry, absently dispelling a fiery whip from Dumbledore that shattered into smoke. "Harry, you have two choices." He flourished his wand and creating two clouds in the street, clouds that formed into images, shockingly real. An image of Susan Bones, her face pale with fear, and an image of Hermione, blood spilling from her face.
"You see what my most loyal see, right at this moment. A choice. To the right, behind that cafe, is your beloved mudblood, your loyal friend and whore." He hissed, his deformed nostrils flaring with amusement as he shielded another curse from Dumbledore.
"And to the left, on the other side of the village, behind The Hog's Head, is the Bones girl. It is not fair that you keep such precious maidens to yourself, don't you think?" Tom laughed, his wand twirling in his white fingers as he protected himself from Dumbledore's Transfiguration of the wooden fences that lined the cobbled road. "You love to play the hero, don't you Harry? So choose who to try and rescue. This is the game. Choose the Bones girl to keep Britain whole, to keep the Ministry safe from my little…demands, or choose the mudblood, your first love, that tug at your heart."
Harry gasped, coughing up blood from his lungs as he swayed from side to side, his vision hazy. Now he knew Tom's game, knew why he was here. He wanted Susan, wanted to use her against Amelia, who was soon to be elected, wanted to use her to control the Ministry, control Britain.
And he wanted Hermione, wanted to use her as leverage against Harry himself.
And by making him choose, Tom figured that Harry would always choose Hermione, because he knew the ritual that Harry used, the bond, it made Harry as susceptible to love as the girls themselves.
Only Hermione wasn't bonded.
But he loved her all the same.
Susan was the right choice. He could save her, save the Ministry, marry her, ally with Amelia against the might of the Death Eaters.
But, as he swallowed, the taste of copper on his tongue, it wasn't a choice at all. Hermione was his friend, his best friend, his rock to rely on, the girl at his side, his support when he needed it, his anchor when he was drowning. Bonded or not, she was his.
And he could never let her die. He stumbled to the right, to Puddifoot's cafe, as Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel began in earnest. The ground shook — the whole village shook — and the rain washed his blood away, the path flooded, the water already red. He cast a healing spell to try and keep his organs firmly inside his skin, but he was losing blood and fast.
Bodies led the way, bodies too young. Some looked uninjured, dead from the Killing Curse. Others held wounds too large, their life seeping through their fingers.
The wailing wind carried their words to his ears, just children, just boys and girls.
"Harry…"
"Help me, Harry."
"Tell my family—"
He ignored them, stumbling forward. He was here to help the living.
A face, a blurry face. Harry wiped his eyes, realized he was crying.
It was Neville, his face ashen, bloody and dirty. "Harry! Most of us got through the tunnel, but Hermione, the others—"
"I know. Move."
"W-what can I do?" The boy trembled.
"You've done enough, brother." Harry told him, pushing him aside. Hermione needed him.
His wand was warm in his hands, the only strength he was given. He was dizzy, falling apart.
But he had strength enough for this.
Behind the cafe, a forest clearing next to the river.
Lestrange.
But not the one he wanted.
It was Rodolphus, laughing madly. At the end of his wand, stripped to her underwear and covered in blood, Susan Bones. She was convulsing, dribbling from her mouth, her eyes glazed.
Harry felt his stomach sink, knees weak. If Susan was here then…
Voldemort had tricked him. Hermione was lost to him.
Next to Susan, Hannah was propped up against a tree, her eyes open but unseeing. Not dead, his bond told him.
"Where is dear Aunty now, little Bones?" Rodolphus taunted. "And who wants their Mommy?" He swung his wand up — and with it, came Susan's own arm. The Imperius Curse.
Harry snapped.
"Avada Kedavra." He snarled.
But even through glazed eyes, traumatized, Susan flinched at the green light, alerting Rodolphus. He ducked just in time. It sailed over his head.
"Little Mr. Potter, my goodness. Haven't you grown up?" The man said. He was tall, his hair so dark it was almost black, but thin like a rake. Azkaban hadn't been kind to him — his eyes were sunken back into his skull, but they held a light in them. In another world, he might have looked kind.
"I'd hoped to run into you. My Lord seeks two prizes, but I am only tasked with one." He said sadly.
Harry was in no mood for talking — Hermione was in danger. He had to make this quick.
He snapped off a couple of curses as a distraction, and ensured his final spell missed Rodolphus completely and hit the tree trunk behind him. The tree creaked as its branches came to life, the branches stretching towards the unaware man.
"Bellatrix said you were better than this." The Death Eater said sadly, replying with the full trio of Unforgiveables. Harry let the Imperius hit him.
Drop your wand.
Warm feelings, swimming in his head, his worries over Hermione floating away.
Harry let his wand dangle in his fingers, while the tree branches stretched ever closer. The Imperius curse could not work on his mind — not on Harry's and certainly not on Tom's.
Hannah's bond fluttered in his mind. She was waking up. But with his recognition of her awakened bond came the understanding that there were more, more of his bondmates. Somewhere, not near, but not far, approaching the village, Narcissa. Apolline. Helena. Marie.
He felt their fears and swept them away.
He felt their rage and soothed the flames.
He felt their power and…took it.
Took it all, opened their channels of love and withdrew all that they had. They gave to him freely, because what were they if not his?
Drop your wand. Rodolphus said again. You want the peace, the freedom.
Harry snorted. He wouldn't find peace until every Death Eater was dead.
He clutched his wand and brought it up to bear.
And behind the Death Eater, a branch snapped out and seized his neck.
He was held for a single second.
But a second was enough.
"Confringo." Harry roared, forcing all of his power into that single spell. The fiery orange light shot at Rodolphus, who sneered, his shield raised.
His shield did nothing.
He was covered in light, the sound of a thunderous boom echoing through the clearing. The tree leaves shook. The soil tore from the ground. And Rodolphus rained from the sky, limb after limb dropping into the sodden grass, little wet whimpers of defeat.
Idly, Harry thought they'd never find enough of him to identify the body.
A few Cutting Curses and a Levitation Spell and Susan was safe, hidden under the tree leaves. Harry raced back to the village, stumbling past students hiding behind walls, faces fearful. In the middle of the street, Tom hovered in the air unassisted. He was bloodied, the worse for wear, and Dumbledore looked fine. And behind Dumbledore, the cavalry had arrived. The Professors, wands at the ready. And Dora too, with a handful of Aurors.
But Tom only had eyes for Harry, his serpentine mouth spreading into a sinister smile.
"Did you get your mudblood, Harry?" The Dark Lord mocked with laughing eyes.
"Give her to me, Tom."
"Bellatrix has her, I'm afraid. Don't worry, she's taken her somewhere safe, ready for you to reclaim. You know the price you have to pay, Harry Potter. I ask only for submission." Voldemort swished his wand and ascended into the air. He touched the side of his arm and the Anti-Apparition wards dropped. Dumbldore fired a spell that hit nothing — the Dark Lord popped away.
Harry sank to his knees, his chin to his chest. He sank into the bloody waters of the flooded street, sank into his mind, into the nightmares that were forming. Hermione in a dungeon, afraid and alone.
Would her head come in the parcel in the morning post?
Would her blood be used to write Harry another letter?
Would he receive every part of her, leverage for a year or more?
No, Tom wouldn't kill her. She was valuable as leverage. His Hermione.
He knelt into the mud and cried.
"Harry, what happened?" Someone pulled on his shoulder. Of all the faces, it was Katie Bell. Katie Bell, who he'd taken out instead of Hermione, instead of spending the whole day with his best friend, cuddled in bed, making love to her.
What a fool he was. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered.
"Harry?"
Harry just wiped his eyes, his smile bitter. "The war's started now, hasn't it, Katie?"