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SIYE Time:21:55 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Butterfly Effect
By Brennus

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Rape, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 733
Summary: Minor events can have repercussions far beyond their size and importance. When one of these minor events occurs to a ten year-old Harry Potter he finds his world turned upside-down and it starts him down a very different path than the one he expected to follow.
Hitcount: Story Total: 199222; Chapter Total: 7673
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Why is it the chapters you think are straightforward always end up causing the most headaches? Poor Tom (MinistryMalcontent) had to put in a bit of extra work in sorting out my plot holes on this one and huge thanks to him. Hopefully the policemens actions come over as believable although I don’t think they would ever try and fire a warning shot in real life. Anyway, here’s Harry vs. Bellatrix, round 2!




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Chapter 15 — To Catch a Raven


Saturday, 8 March 1997

Had it really only been three months since he had been in this same situation, Harry wondered to himself.

He was sat at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place with Sirius beside him and Remus sat across from him. Last time he had been feeling wretched following the slaughter at Diagon Alley and his confusion at having taken another human’s life. Now he was back sitting in the same place, hurting once again in body and soul. The worst thing was that he wasn’t even the one hurting the most.

Harry had been released from St Mungo’s that morning with a bag full of potions to be taken at regular intervals and strict instructions to rest. He didn’t have much hope of complying with the instructions to rest. Every time he’d tried to sleep, he’d awoken with dreadful nightmares which involved a cackling, dead-eyed witch killing everyone he knew. Bellatrix had really got to him, he had to admit.

Across the table Remus absently played with his glass of firewhiskey. As soon as they had sat down, Sirius had poured them all a glass of the stuff. Harry was pretty sure that drinking would have been on the list of activities banned by his Healer, if the man had thought to warn him about it. Remus had barely touched his drink. Indeed, he had barely said a word since they had picked Harry up from the hospital. From the look on Sirius’s face, Harry could tell he was worried about his best friend.

“So, another week and you should be back to full health, eh, Harry?” Sirius asked, seemingly just in an effort to break the oppressive silence.

“Yeah, as long as I take my potions and get plenty of rest, according to the Healer I’ll be fine. He didn’t say what I was supposed to do in the event of being attacked by a psychopathic Dark Lord or his deranged followers, though,” Harry replied.

Sirius chuckled.

“You should have asked for a doctor’s note. ‘Dear Mr Voldemort, Harry is excused duelling at present as he has not been feeling well’. That should…”

“SHUT UP!” Remus suddenly screamed, making them jump. “Just shut up! I can’t stand your insane babbling any more.” He slumped in his chair, tears running down his checks.

Sirius stared in shock at his friend for a second before jumping from his seat and walking round the table. He then grabbed Remus in a rough hug.

“It’s alright, mate,” Sirius said quietly. “Just let it all out.”

“It’s not alright!” Remus wailed, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into Sirius’s shoulder. “Nothing will be alright ever again.”

“It’s okay to feel like this, Moony. We know how you felt about Tonks. You should…” Sirius began before being cut off.

“But that’s just it!” Remus spat. “I never told her how I felt. I never told her that I loved her. Never once. And now it’s too late.”

“She knew how you felt,” Harry insisted.

“Did she, Harry?” Remus asked disbelievingly. “Does anyone know for certain unless they hear the words? She told me she loved me once, but I just said that I was too old and too dangerous for her. I took her love and threw it away. She must have hated me.”

“No, she loved you,” Harry said urgently. “You could see it in her eyes every time she looked at you. Tonks understood you were trying to protect her. She just didn’t agree with your reasoning, that’s all. But it never changed the way she felt about you.”

Remus stared at Harry helplessly for a second, before breaking down in tears again. He buried his head in his hands, and his body shook with agonizing sobs. Sirius just held the man tight before looking up at Harry.

“Why don’t you go to bed, Harry. You need your rest, and I can look after things down here,” he suggested.

Harry just nodded and quietly left the kitchen. Closing the door behind him, he instantly felt relief at leaving the highly-charged atmosphere.

Wearily, he started to make his way upstairs. As he did so, he brooded over the relationship between Remus and Tonks. They had quite obviously been crazy about each other. Had Remus been wrong to keep them apart because he felt he wouldn’t make a good partner for her? Being a Werewolf undoubtedly coloured his thinking, but the man had that under control, didn’t he? In the nine months Harry had been in the house, he had never seen nor heard anything of Remus’s transformations. There was apparently a secure room in the basement, and Sirius ensured a supply of Wolfsbane Potion was always on hand, so was it really an issue? As for him being too old and poor, well, Tonks didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

Was denying your feelings to protect the other person the greatest show of love, or was it selfishness? Was Remus protecting Tonks, or just himself? In this case, Harry strongly felt that Remus had got it all wrong. By pushing her away, he hadn’t made Tonks any safer and certainly not happier. With their work for the Order, either of them could have been killed at any time. Now Tonks was gone, and Remus was just left with guilt and regrets.

Harry signed. If he was put in the same position, he wondered, would he do things differently? He didn’t know, but he promised himself that he would always remember this moment if he was.


Monday, 9 June 1997

Walking carefully, Harry picked his way among the rubbish that littered the floor of the abandoned warehouse. This time he knew she was close; he could feel her presence here.

Approaching the staircase, he spotted a crumpled figure lying on the ground. He approached carefully with his wand extended in front of him and his Katana ready in his other hand. As he reached the body, he noticed the blood smeared on the ground, like it had been dragged along the floor. He crouched down and, putting his wand down for a second, gently turned the body over. He instantly recognised the person: Hestia Jones.

“Oh, Hestia, I told you not to get too close to her,” he whispered bitterly.

He’d liked Hestia; she’d been a warm-hearted, sensible witch who had always been friendly to him at Order meetings. Hestia had been meant to merely observe this building, not enter it. Harry wondered what had happened to change that.

Suddenly, the large panel door on the far wall burst open and six men ran into the room. They were all dressed in dark blue overalls and were wearing helmets and goggles. They all also carried sub-machine guns which were pointed directly at Harry.

“Police!” screamed the nearest one. “Drop that sword! Raise your hands and back away from the woman!”

Harry observed the Muggles with a calm detachment. Picking up his wand, he casually stood and surreptitiously cast a quick spell. He looked the lead policeman in the eyes.

“You’re too late, she’s dead,” he informed the man.

“Drop the weapon and raise your arms above your head,” the policeman persisted. “I won’t warn you again!”

“They won’t work, you know. Your guns, I mean,” Harry said conversationally. One of the policemen snorted at that.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sonny,” he growled. “Mr Heckler and Mr Koch may disagree with you.”

“I’m not the one who killed her,” Harry continued, ignoring the warning. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you chase after the person who did. She’s just too dangerous. You’ll have to leave her to me.”

“What the hell are you talking about, you arsehole?” the lead policeman shouted. “I told you to get your hands above your head. Do it! Now! This is your last warning.”

“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” Harry said. “But don’t worry about it. In a little while some people from the Ministry will turn up and wipe your memories of these events. You’ll all be able to carry on your lives in complete ignorance.”

“DROP THE SWORD AND PUT HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!” the policeman yelled, his weapon pointing squarely at Harry. “Damn it!”

The policeman shifted his aim slightly, pointing the gun just over Harry’s head. He then pulled the trigger, intending to send a warning shot over his head.

Click. Nothing happened.

In a panic the man re-cocked his weapon, sending an unspent bullet shooting out the ejection port. He aimed and pulled the trigger again.

Click.

The second policeman rushed up and pointed his gun directly at Harry’s head.

Click.

One by one, the other policeman all tried firing their weapons at Harry. Several of them tried pulling their back-up pistols from their holsters, but they proved no more effective than the sub-machine guns. The policeman all looked at each other in bewilderment.

Wanting to try and calm the policemen down, Harry banished the Katana from his hand. The men collectively gasped and stared at him in shock.

“Sorry, I cast a dampening field over the room,” Harry explained. “I told you guns wouldn’t work, didn’t I? Now, gentlemen, I suggest you just take a seat and wait quietly for the Obliviators to arrive. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

Suddenly, an eerie cackling laugh echoed through the building. Everyone in the room automatically looked up in fear.

“Pooootter! Oh, ickle baby Potter! Come and play with me! I’m soooo bored,” the faint voice called.

“What the bloody hell was that?” asked one of the policemen.

“That was the evil witch who killed poor Hestia here,” Harry replied, his eyes staring at the ceiling like he was trying to look through the concrete.

“Look, what the hell is going on here? Who are you and how did you stop our guns working? What did you bloody do with that sword?” The senior policeman seemed to be losing it. He took a step towards Harry in an aggressive manner but soon found himself frozen stiff.

“I…can’t…move,” he managed to say.

Harry raised his hand and stopped the others rushing forward. Something very strange was happening and they seem to understand that.

“Please don’t make me hex the rest of you,” Harry pleaded with them. “Now, I’m going to go upstairs and deal with that evil bitch up there. Please do not try and follow me up there as you’ll all be helpless, unless one of you happens to be a wizard in disguise, of course.”

“Wizards? Witches? Are you some kind of head-case?” one policeman demanded.

“How do you think I stopped your guns working? How do you think I froze your boss in place? Gentlemen, please take a seat and relax. The Ministry will be here shortly to tidy everything up. Goodbye.”

And with that Harry turned and made his way up the staircase. The policemen all looked at each other doubtfully for a moment before slowly sitting down on the cold, stone floor. None of them said a word.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Moving carefully up the stairs, Harry paused in the stairwell to plan his next move. He could faintly hear manic laughter coming from the floors above, and it sent a chill through him.

This moment had been coming for months. Since the death of Tonks, the Order of the Phoenix had been in near open revolt against Dumbledore’s policy of passive defence. Remus, Sirius and Harry had all screamed for blood, and most of the rest of the Order had agreed. Only a few people, such as the Weasleys, had appealed for a more cautious approach. They had been heavily outvoted.

The result was that the Order had begun to attack the Death Eaters aggressively. Their contacts within the Aurors Department allowed them to be alerted to any Death Eater raids quickly, and a series of warning charms placed at strategic locations also aided rapid response. It was hard on the Order members, who had to maintain a response group twenty-four hours a day, but it was yielding results. Few Death Eater attacks, save those on the most remote of locations, were conducted without losses to Voldemort’s forces these days. It was turning into a battle of attrition, and that was a battle Voldemort could never hope to win.

Another positive element of the Order’s offensive tactics was the response from the general public. Pictures of dead and captured Death Eaters were being regularly printed in the press, and this seemed to give people heart. Harry himself had become something of a poster-boy for resistance against Voldemort and, despite it being something that he personally loathed, he allowed it to be encouraged. How different would that day in Diagon Alley have been if all the witches and wizards present had fought instead of running?

But all through the battles Harry had taken part in, he had been looking for one person alone. Unfortunately, their paths had stubbornly refused to cross. Until today, that was. Harry was under no illusion that Bellatrix herself had engineered this meeting. They had been dancing around each other for weeks now, both eager for a confrontation. Harry could imagine Bellatrix begging her master to be allowed the honour of being the one to kill him.

He stood on the landing of what a sign on the wall indicated was the fourth floor. She was here, he could feel it. He yanked at the door and walked purposely into the large, empty room. Bella knew he was coming so he saw little point in subtlety. Briefly, he pondered summoning his Katana again, but decided to save it as a nice surprise for Bellatrix instead. He walked to the centre of the room, his boots echoing in the bare space.

“Hello, ickle Harry-kins,” a silky female voice said behind him. Without undue urgency, Harry turned to face her.

Bellatrix looked very different from the skeletal figure he had seen in Hogsmeade several months before. She looked well-fed and contented. Her hair, which had previously looked lank and dull, was now shiny and luxurious. The robes she wore were black and revealing, displaying her shapely legs and her chest which had been built up into an impressive cleavage. Harry felt disgusted with himself that he could think her in anyway desirable.

Noticing his eyes linger on her, Bellatrix smiled seductively. She walked towards him with an exaggerated swing of her hips, delighted that she could have such an effect on the young man. Oh, she was going to enjoy this so much.

“Hello, Bella,” Harry replied after a pause. “I see you’ve recovered from your little holiday in Azkaban.”

Bella stretched like a cat, taking the opportunity to flaunt her chest at Harry. “Oh yes, Harry. I’m feeling much more like my old self. It’s amazing how much better one can feel after being able to indulge yourself a little. And trust me, I’ve indulged.”

Harry shivered at the thought of what she meant by that comment.

Bella stood about five yards away from Harry, idly twirling her wand between her fingers. Despite her casual demeanour, her eyes burned with a manic energy and a desperate longing. She reminded Harry of a lioness that had smelt blood and was eager for the kill. He might have felt it strangely arousing if her bloodlust had not been directed at him.

“You know, Harry, a powerful wizard like you would do well for himself with my Lord’s guidance,” she began.

“Please, Bella,” Harry interrupted. “We both know Voldemort wants me dead, so spare me any long speeches about how great it would be if we joined forces. All I would get is a knife in the back. I’m not going to join your side, and you’re not going to join mine. Let’s cut the crap and get on with what we came here for.”

“Really, Harry,” Bellatrix said with disapproval. “Always rushing things. Don’t you know a girl likes a little foreplay first?”

And with that Bellatrix struck. Her first spell was cast so fast Harry barely had time to dodge it. He rolled to his side and returned fire. Bellatrix deflected the spell and sent a flurry of hexes in his direction.

The fight quickly became a slogging match. The witch and the wizard appeared fairly evenly matched, and they threw spells at each other at a ferocious rate. Bellatrix was extremely agile and, like Harry, favoured a mix of movement and shield spells to avoid being hit.

Harry could taste the magical energy sizzling in the air around him and feel the concrete beneath his feet heating up. He was beginning to wonder if the derelict building around them could stand up to the about of raw power being discharged by the two of them. Sweat was dripping down his brow at the effort he was exerting, but adrenalin was surging through him, filling him with energy.

A vicious cutting curse sailed by his head so close he could feel the heat from the spell. Bellatrix cackled with delight. It looks like she’s having the time of her life, he thought.

Deciding at this point the battle would only be won by one of them making a mistake or doing something unpredictable, Harry decided to change tactics. It was time to introduce Bella to the classic shark tooth ploy of the Tsuesenshi. It had already proved successful in a number of encounters with Death Eaters, and he hoped it would prove so again. Bracing himself, he cast a powerful blasting spell before Apparating directly behind the witch. His Katana was in his hand before he realised he had summoned it. His blade ripped through the air intent on taking Bellatrix’s head.

Unfortunately for Harry, her neck was no longer there and his sword encountered nothing but thin air. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his side and he twisted to see Bellatrix right beside him with a dagger in her hand. He swung his arm and managed to catch her head with a glancing blow from the pommel of his sword.

Bella staggered back clutching her head, while Harry gasped in pain. He managed to cast a quick healing charm to stop the bleeding before Bella regained he senses and began to start casting spells at him again. Stalemate.

“Did you think that little trick would work on me, Harry?” she taunted. “Please, give me a little credit. It may have worked against a few of my Lord’s underlings, but I’m not going to fall for it!”

Harry just gritted his teeth. No matter how much he hated the deranged bitch, he had to admit she was bloody good. The two of them continued trading spells while circling each other. Both of them were looking for a weakness in the other or some opening they could use. Harry wondered how long they had been fighting as he was rapidly losing all sense of time. Surely the Ministry would be sending people soon, wouldn’t they?

He was beginning to think they would be fighting all night when a freak accident happened. By chance, both of them launched a blasting charm at each other at exactly the same second. The spells hit each other and exploded in mid-air. The huge blast sent them both flying backwards in opposite directions.

For a moment, Harry was deaf and blind. As his vision returned and the ringing in his ears subsided, he looked around desperately for his opponent. Bellatrix was on her hands and knees, blood dripping from her face. He tried to roll over so he could get a clear shot at her but a sharp pain in his chest sent him sprawling. Definitely some broken ribs there, he thought; probably internal damage as well.

Bellatrix didn’t seem to be much better off. He heard her give a muffled scream as she tried to stand. Ignoring the pain, Harry also tried to get up, but Bella beat him to it. Giving a deranged shriek of triumph, she cast a cutting spell at him. Knowing he had no hope of getting a shield up in time, he beat at the spell with his Katana. The magically protected blade managed to deflect the spell, but the sword was torn from his hand with the force of the impact.

Bellatrix looked completely shocked at this, but she recovered quickly. More curses rained down on Harry, but he was now in a position to block them. He returned fire and soon they were back to trading spell for spell. At the moment, it was just a question of which of them would collapse first.

Harry’s chest was on fire and he suspected that the wound in his side had reopened. Bella was limping badly and appeared to be having trouble breathing. Both of them were covered in blood and dirt, with their robes hanging off them like rags. The speed they were casting spells had noticeably dropped, as had the power that was being put behind the hexes and curses.

As it was more likely that Aurors, or possibly an Order member, would turn up rather than a Death Eater, Harry was becoming worried that Bellatrix might decide to run. Death Eaters generally carried emergency Portkeys, and he was convinced that Bella wore one around her neck. He had to get it off her.

Bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming, Harry prepared to sprint directly at Bellatrix. He timed his run just as she was firing a burning hex at him and then he moved. Maybe it was fear that motivated him, but he covered the ground between them surprisingly quickly. It was obviously not a tactic that Bella was expecting as he saw her eyes go wide as he charged at her. She managed to get two spells off at him before he closed the distance; one passed harmlessly to his left but the other impacted on his shoulder painfully. Momentum was with him however, and he crashed into her sending them both sprawling. He desperately grabbed at Bella as they rolled, trying to pin her down; but she managed to squirm away. Before he realised what was happening, he found himself lying on his back with Bellatrix standing over him with her wand pointing directly at his head. He had lost.

She stood right by his feet, looking at him in disbelief. She then seemed to realise the position they were in and she started to laugh. Desperately, Harry groped around with his left hand seeking his wand, but without success. Bella was so close that if he had his sword she would easily be within his reach, but he had already summoned his Katana, which lay on the floor behind him somewhere. The blade could only be summoned or banished directly from his hand, which meant with the sword well out of his reach, he was currently defenceless.

Bellatrix stopped laughing and her face twisted into a cruel sneer. The hungry look he had noticed before returned to her eyes and she started to pant like a dog. She seemed to be getting a sort of sexual gratification from the thought she was about to kill him. Harry hated the idea that he was giving her pleasure nearly as much as the fact that he was about to die.

With an effort borne of desperation, he tried to summon his sword to his hand. Never before had he yearned for the familiar feel of his Katana in his hand so much, but right now he would take the meanest of blades.

It took a moment for him to realise that something was in his hand. Certainly, it felt different than the familiar grip of his own sword, but he didn’t stop to think about that. Before Bellatrix could react, he swung the blade and it bit deep into her thigh. She screamed and grabbed he leg, her wand dropping to the floor forgotten. With a tug, Harry pulled the sword from the witch’s leg, sending a shower of blood spurting everywhere.

After fighting to find his feet, Harry looked at the sword in his hand. Rather than his Katana, he found he was holding a traditional long sword of Goblin manufacture. Rubies were mounted in the sword's hilt and the word ‘Gryffindor’ was etched onto the blade. He stared at it in disbelief.

A wretched gurgling sound brought him to his senses. Blood was dribbling from Bellatrix’s mouth and she clutched at her thigh desperately. Growling with pain, Harry turned and scanned the floor. He quickly found his wand and then he hobbled over to where his Katana lay. After picking up and vanishing his familiar blade, he then returned to where Bellatrix lay bleeding on the floor.

She watched him with fear in her eyes. This only served to make him enormously angry. How many people had she slaughtered while they lay begging for their lives? How dare she, who had been death's obedient servant, fear it now? The long sword was still in his hand; one quick thrust and it would be over. The world would be rid of this evil bitch and Tonks would be avenged. He placed the sword over Bellatrix’s heart, ready to strike.

But as he looked down at her, other images began to superimpose themselves. He saw a terrified Horace Slughorn staring at him in horror. He was replaced by a sneering Severus Snape, mocking Harry for his hypocrisy. Finally, he saw Tamazuki, shaking his head and telling him how disappointed he was another of his pupils had turned dark. Grinding his teeth, Harry slowly lowered the sword.

The Horcrux hunt had hit a brick wall. Bellatrix was Voldemort’s most loyal follower and was deep in his council. The information they could get from her could be invaluable to the war effort, but it did mean one thing: he had to take her alive.

Harry let loose a deep, primal scream and begged Tonks for her forgiveness. Without realising he had done it, he banished Gryffindor’s sword and gripped his wand in his right hand. He quickly cast several healing spells on Bellatrix and staunched her bleeding. Gripping her arm tightly, Harry then Apparated them away, hoping with all his heart that he wouldn’t live to regret this decision.


Tuesday, 10 June 1997

Harry awoke to find the sunlight radiating through his bedroom window. He briefly thought about closing the gap in his curtains through which the light had intruded, but a brief look at his alarm clock convinced him that he really should be up and about.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he nervously stretched himself. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he felt no real pain, even in his chest. He’d been in a pretty bad way by the time he’d made it back to Grimmauld Place and was a little hazy as to what had happened after he had arrived. He vaguely remembered a lot of shouting and someone treating his wounds but not a great deal else. Whoever it was that had looked after him, they had done a great job.

He experimentally tried standing and found that his legs supported him very well, thank you very much. Deciding a shower would be a good idea, he headed to his ensuite bathroom and luxuriated in the stream of scalding hot water for a good twenty minutes. He then dressed and went down in search of a late breakfast.

As soon as he left his room, he was confronted by the sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt leaning against the far wall. He smiled as soon as he saw Harry.

“Good morning, Harry,” he greeted him in his deep, melodic voice. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, I feel fine, apart from the fact I could eat a hippogriff right now,” Harry replied. “Why are you hanging about here on the landing? You’re not waiting for me are you?”

“No, Harry. I’m on guard duty. We decided to put your ‘special guest’ in this bedroom.” Kingsley indicated the bedroom opposite to Harry’s. “The healers are with her at present, and I’m just here to make sure they are not disturbed.”

“The only people in the house are Order members, Kingsley,” Harry objected. “Why would they disturb the healer?”

“Well, we had a bit of trouble last night,” Kingsley explained quietly. “Remus tried to get into the room.”

“Ah,” Harry said simply. Although most of the time Remus Lupin was a mild-mannered man, Harry didn’t doubt for a second that he would tear Tonks’s killer to pieces if he was given the chance. Sometimes the inner werewolf came to the surface.

Nodding his understanding to Kingsley, Harry continued his way down to the kitchen. He entered to find it surprisingly crowded and noisy. Everyone went silent as they noticed him.

“Harry, how are you feeling?” Sirius was first to speak, leaping from his seat to greet his godson.

“I’m pretty good, actually,” he replied. “Surprisingly so, bearing in mind the abuse Bellatrix dished out. I’m starving though. Any breakfast left?”

“We’ve saved you some. Let me get it for you,” said Mrs Weasley.

Harry was surprised to see the woman here and even more stunned by her considerate behaviour, bearing in mind the cold shoulder she had given him last time they spoke.

A minute later a large plate piled with breakfast items was placed in front of him. Thanking the red-haired witch profusely, Harry tucked into the mountain of food with enthusiasm. He was very pleased to note that most people in the room continued their conversations at that point, and at least allowed him to eat before they started questioning him.

Eventually, he managed to clear the plate, even going so far as to wipe it clean with some bread he had scrounged. He pushed the empty plate away with a contented sigh, and looked up to see Professor Dumbledore looking at him expectantly. The room had gone silent and Harry realised that everyone had been waiting to hear about his latest adventure.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to put it off any longer, he launched into a detailed account of his encounter with Bellatrix. There was a murmur of shock at the news that Hestia Jones was dead, and Arthur Weasley was immediately dispatched to recover her body from the Muggle authorities. Harry felt extremely guilty that he had not mentioned Hestia before, but for some reason had assumed the Order would have known. Dumbledore assured him that everyone understood and urged him to continue with his story.

Harry told them about him preventing the Muggle Police from trying to intervene and his eventual confrontation with Lestrange. His description of the fight was punctuated by gasps and exclamations of surprise from all present. He was also questioned closely by Dumbledore, Moody and Sirius for at least half an hour. Eventually, they ran out of questions and Dumbledore addressed him gravely.

“While the capture of Bellatrix Lestrange is quite an achievement, Harry, I must express my disappointment that you chose to face her alone. It was foolhardy, my boy,” he scolded.

Harry bristled at the man’s tone and being referred to as ‘my boy’.

“I had to face her alone,” Harry disagreed. “If she had got the slightest whiff of anyone else being around, she would have been out of there like a shot. Bellatrix was too valuable a target to let slip away. Besides, I was confident I could take her.”

“May I remind you that you were grievously injured in the fight,” Dumbledore said, frowning at him. “She could very easily have killed you.”

“And may I remind you who came off worse in the fight and that I came very close to killing her?” Harry snapped. He then took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument. “Look, we all run the risk of being killed every time we step out the door. We’re at war with Voldemort, and that means we occasionally have to put ourselves in harm’s way. There are only a handful of us who could take on Bellatrix, and I happen to be one of them. I didn’t have time to try and find you, Professor, or Mad-Eye here. I took a calculated risk in facing Lestrange by myself and it worked. I certainly wasn’t going to let the bitch get away. Would anyone here have done anything different?”

“Harry did the right thing,” Remus piped up. Harry hadn’t even seen him tucked away in the corner. “Bellatrix was worth the risk.”

“You would say that,” objected a witch Harry didn’t recognise. “You haven’t been thinking straight since Tonks died!”

“You’d just let Bellatrix get away with that, would you?” yelled a small wizard called Dedalus Diggle. “And what about poor Hestia? You think any of us would hesitate to go after that murderess if we were in the same position as Harry?”

The room degenerated in anarchy as everyone tried to get their opinion across, generally by shouting. Harry could feel his temper starting to rise.

“QUIET!” bellowed Dumbledore. Everyone was so shocked he had yelled that they shut up instantly. Harry could feel raw power radiating from the old man and was keenly reminded why so many people respected him.

“This bickering achieves nothing,” Dumbledore continued in a calmer voice. “What’s done is done, although, Harry, I would ask that you refrain from taking such risks with your personal safety in future. You have become a symbol of resistance to Voldemort, and your loss would be a disaster for all concerned.”

Harry gave the briefest of nods in acceptance. A second later everyone’s attention was diverted by a woman entering the kitchen. She had the appearance of being a no-nonsense sort of witch, although her face looked kindly. Her grey hair was tied back and her clothes were prim and proper. Harry thought she looked vaguely familiar. She made her way directly to Dumbledore.

“Ah, Poppy. Have you news on regarding our guest?” Dumbledore enquired of her.

“It’s not good, Headmaster,” the witch replied. “She was extremely badly injured, and she lost a lot of blood. I’ve stabilised her for the moment, but I would only put her chances of survival at about one in ten.”

“Is she likely to regain consciousness?” Moody asked.

“I can induce consciousness for a while,” the witch replied, obviously realising what Moody was asking, “but it might kill her, particularly if she becomes upset.”

“I think we have some hard decisions to make,” Dumbledore announced. “Due to the sensitive nature of what we are about to discuss, I’m afraid I will have to ask everyone to leave. Sirius, Remus and Harry, can you remain please while I talk to Poppy. Alastor, can I ask you to stand guard at the door.”

All the other Order members started to file out of the room, most of them muttering to themselves. While waiting for them to depart, Dumbledore addressed Harry.

“I don’t know if you remember Poppy, Harry. She looked after you briefly after you left the Dursleys,” he said, indicating the grey-haired witch. “Poppy is Hogwarts resident Mediwitch and it was she who treated your injuries last night.”

“Thank you, Poppy,” Harry said sincerely. “You did a marvellous job. I feel as good as new.”

“You’re welcome, Mr Potter” Poppy replied, “but I would remind you that prevention is better than cure. You were lucky that one of your broken ribs didn’t puncture your lung. Please be more careful in future.”

“I’ll try” Harry promised meekly, while Sirius sniggered at him. By now, all the other Order members had departed, and they were able to talk freely. He turned to Dumbledore.

“Professor,” he addressed the elderly wizard. “About that sword that I managed to summon, the one with ‘Gryffindor’ written on it. What is it and how did I manage to summon it to me?”

Dumbledore smiled. “The sword is the last remaining relic of Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts. It’s rumoured that the sword will appear for any worthy Gryffindor who needs it in a time of stress. As you’ve never been sorted into a house at Hogwarts, I’m at something of a loss as to how you managed to call the sword to you. The only possibility I can think of is that you are in some way related to Godric. With the convoluted family trees most pure-blood families share, it is entirely possible. But onto other matters; what to do about Bellatrix?”

“Bellatrix is one of Voldemort’s most trusted lieutenants; she’s bound to know something about the remaining Horcruxes,” Sirius began.

“Indubitably, but the trick will be getting her to reveal that information,” Dumbledore pointed out.

“With respect, Professor,” Harry said, “can’t you just obtain the information we need by Legilimency?”

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” Dumbledore said apologetically. “Bella’s mind is extremely well protected. I have managed to enter her thoughts, but all useful information is locked away. I might be able to break into some of these guarded memories but there would be no way of knowing beforehand what information I was attempting to access and I would run a very serious risk of wiping her mind completely.”

“What about Veritaserum?” Sirius asked.

“Mr Black, remember what I said about Bellatrix’s fragile state,” Poppy interrupted. “Veritaserum would almost certainly kill her.”

“But how quickly?” Remus asked. “How long would we have to question her?”

Just for a second Poppy looked scandalised, but then the reality of the situation sank in. She pursed her lips and looked thoughtful.

“I can’t say exactly,” she said. “If Bellatrix goes all out to fight the Veritaserum then she could be dead in minutes. If she can be kept calm you’ll have longer, but no more than half an hour at the very most.”

“So, do we risk it?” Sirius asked. “Do we give her Veritaserum and risk killing her on the spot or wait when she could potentially pop her clogs at any moment anyway?”

“If you put it that way, Sirius, I believe we have no choice,” Dumbledore said in a resigned voice. “We must, however, do our utmost to keep her calm and relaxed.”

“Let me question her,” Harry said suddenly. The others looked at him oddly.

“I don’t think she will respond very well to the person who put her in that condition in the first place,” Sirius said doubtfully.

“Don’t worry. I know how to do this,” Harry replied firmly.

He knew just how to approach Bellatrix Lestrange.













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