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Shadow of the Serpent | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 537 Summary: **June Dumbledore Silver Trinket Award Winner for Best Angst, and May winner for Best Author** Harry is whisked away to an ancient island to be trained in Occlumency. What he finds is another complication to add to his already complicated life. Will friendship, love, loyalty, bravery, and honor be enough to save him from the Shadow of the Serpent that haunts his life? H/G angst/action adventure. Hitcount: Story Total: 152115; Chapter Total: 5244 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only. “Ambush” Stephen, Remus, and Harry Apparated in front of the Three Broomsticks, wands at the ready. Thankfully, there was no one about. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he stowed his wand in his pocket. He had a very uneasy feeling for some reason, although he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that was making him feel so nervous. The minor glitch at the hearing had worked out to his favour and now he could legally Apparate… he should be feeling on top of the world, but he wasn’t. “What are we waiting for?” Stephen commented, looking at Harry strangely. “Let’s go in.” “I still think-” Remus began uncertainly, but Harry cut him off. “If you don’t go in, then I don’t go in… end of story,” he said stubbornly. “Please, Remus?” Remus caved under his pleading look. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “But not for long. Any trouble from the patrons, and I’m out of there, got it?” He fixed Harry with a hard stare. “You too, Harry. You’re a wanted man, and I don’t want to see anything happen to you. The safest place for you is inside the walls of Hogwarts.” “We won’t stay long,” Stephen promised. “And besides… Harry can take care of himself.” Stephen’s unexpected praise made Harry stand a bit taller. No one had ever had much confidence in his ability to handle himself in a fight. Most of the adults in his life only wanted to protect him and have him hide himself away; Stephen, on the other hand, thought he could handle just about anything. That meant more to him than ten compliments from almost anyone else. The Three Broomsticks was not very crowded, but it was still early. A few patrons were sitting at the bar, and a few sat at the tables eating dinner. Harry was used to seeing the establishment brimming with Hogwarts students. It was strange to see it so quiet. They made their way to a secluded booth near the back of the room where they could see the comings and goings of the customers. It happened to be near a back exit which made for an easy getaway, should that be necessary. Rosmerta spied them at once and sidled up to the table. “What’ll it be, gentlemen?” she asked in a pleasant, welcoming voice. “Three mulled meads,” Stephen answered immediately. “You’re finest brew.” Rosmerta looked at Harry critically. “I may be getting old, but I’m not senile… You’re not of age yet.” Remus laughed. “Still the same Rosmerta… nothing gets by you, does it?” “You should know, Remus Lupin,” she retorted cheekily. “You and your friends tried every trick in the book in your day, didn’ ya?” Stephen clapped Harry on the back. “Our young friend here just got emancipated. As of today, he is legally an adult. Even passed his Apparition Test and everything. We’re here to celebrate.” Rosmerta raised an impressed eyebrow. “Well, that changes things, don’t it?” She tossed her hair in a flirtatious manner (which made her chest stick out even more prominently) and looked back at the barkeep with a seductive smile. “Three of our best mead — on the house, Joe.” The young man blushed a rosy shade of pink as set about pouring the drinks. Rosmerta leaned into the table and whispered conversationally. “Joe’s new here. I think he fancies me,” she said, winking. “As I recall, every young male who ever walked through those doors could claim the same thing,” Stephen said, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia. Rosmerta seemed to take a closer look at him. “Stevie Hunter! I thought that was you, but… aren’t you supposed to be dead?” The other two laughed at the sour expression on Stephen’s face. “A person simply withdraws from society for a few years, and suddenly he’s dead…” he mumbled grouchily. Louder, he said, “No, Rosmerta… as you can see, I’m very much alive.” “Well, it’s a sight for sore eyes I say. Where’ve you been all these years?” she asked, drawing up a chair and sitting down with them as Joe served the mead in tall glass mugs. Harry took the handle and pulled one to him, spilling frothy white foam on the table in the process. He wiped at it nervously, but no one seemed to notice because the focus was on Stephen. Harry couldn’t place his finger on why he was so jumpy all of a sudden, but he had a feeling something was about to happen, and that was never good. “Let’s just say I needed a break,” Stephen said to Rosmerta evasively. “I took a working holiday and travelled the world a bit.” “Wherever you’ve been lad, it’s good to have you home,” Rosmerta declared. “We need all the help we can get around these parts. I understand there’ve been another series of attacks today… Have you heard?” Her voice was low and concerned. Harry perked up immediately at her words, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “Where?” “Some place called Little Whinging,” Rosmerta said. “…Near Surrey, I think.” Harry sat up straight, now truly alarmed. He pushed his drink away and stood up. “When did you hear this?” Rosmerta’s brow furrowed in confusion at his abrupt change in demeanour. “About an hour ago, I reckon. One of my regulars is an Auror and his partner was called out on the case at closing time. Tanner couldn’t go because he got hit in the leg by a bludgeoning spell a few weeks ago and has been on restriction…” Her voice trailed off as she took in Harry’s rigid stance and the other two men’s worried glances. “Do you know someone who lives there?” Harry ignored her and turned to Stephen. “Do you think he’d go that far?” Stephen nodded grimly, his expression sad and worried. “I’m afraid so.” Stephen jumped up and caught his arm as Harry tried to rush away, spinning him around. “Don’t be stupid, Harry… You can’t do anything for them. Whatever’s happened there has already happened. You’d only be exposing yourself.” “Harry, I was just at you aunt and uncle’s place,” Remus said in an irritatingly logical voice. “Everything seemed fine to me.” Harry jerked out of Stephen’s grasp angrily. “You don’t understand,” he said, feeling the rawness of his throat. “They’re sitting ducks. If anything happens it’ll be because of me. I may not like them but that doesn’t mean…” His voice trailed off; he couldn’t finish the rest because a large lump had formed in his throat. If they died it would be his fault. “Let’s see what we can learn before we go rushing off,” Stephen told him firmly. “If we find out that something’s happened, we’ll pop over there and check it out together. I promise.” Harry nodded and sat down crossly, playing with the handle of his mug. Nervously he took a sip, feeling the cold liquid slide down his throat and partially soothing away the lump; it did nothing to pacify his anxiety, but did help give him something to focus on for a minute. Remus exchanged a worried glance with Stephen then turned to Rosmerta. “Can I borrow your private fire to Floo Albus?” “Of course,” she answered, standing up. “I’ll show you where it is.” The two disappeared into a back office. “Hold it together, Quetzal,” Stephen said, keeping his voice low. “We’ll find out what’s going on soon enough.” It was a tense few minutes before Remus came back, a scowl on his face. “It’s not good news.” Harry tensed, waiting for the hammer to fall. “Your aunt and uncle’s home was destroyed, Harry. They’re still trying to determine if anyone was inside at the time.” Remus hung his head sadly. “It doesn’t look like much was left.” Harry swallowed hard. “And the Dark Mark?” he asked. “Was it…?” “Yes,” Remus answered grimly. “Looks like they got Figgy, too.” Harry sunk down at the news. “…And Dudley?” Remus shook his head. “He’s safe. He was at school, or so I’m told. They have someone watching him.” Remus looked up and found Harry’s haunted eyes. “You mustn’t blame yourself, Harry. This could have happened to anyone at any time. These days, no one is safe.” His ears were buzzing, and he was having a hard time focusing on what Remus was saying. Clutching the table, he stood. “I’m going,” he said. “I have to find out for myself what happened and if there’s anything I can do to help.” Stephen nodded and stood. “Then we’re coming with you.” Not bothering to respond, Harry turned on his heel and walked out the door, Apparating on the spot. *** The scene was chaos. Fire trucks, Muggle police, and onlookers crowded the sidewalk in front of the ruined dwelling. The fire had pretty much been extinguished by the time they arrived, but the stench of burning wood still filled the air. Most prominent was the hideous Mark still looming over the house; the snake slid in and out of the mouth of the skull as if mocking the people below. Harry looked away, his heart constricting with guilt. He had not loved his aunt and uncle, but they had been the only family he had ever known. He’d spent the better part of half his life with the occupants of that house and part of him couldn’t believe they were really gone. “He’s going to pay for this,” Harry ground out between clenched teeth. “All in good time, Quetzal,” Stephen said, patting his shoulder. Harry shook his head. “No, Stephen…” he said adamantly. “I can’t stand aside this time and let someone else take care of this for me. He’s gone too far this time.” He turned, prepared to walk away. “Harry,” Stephen said, worry edging his entire stance. “Where are you going?” He shook his head. “I just need a minute by myself, that’s all. Wait here for me… I won’t be long.” Stephen looked at his watch. “You have fifteen minutes. If you’re not back by then, I’m coming after you.” He nodded and trudged away, not knowing where he was headed but feeling the need to escape. Suddenly, this war had become very real to him and his involvement had probably just cost three people their lives. He had to figure out what he was going to do about that before someone else he cared about got hurt. Next time it could be one of the Weasleys or Hermione, and he didn’t know if he could handle that. The path he walked somehow led him to the familiar park where he had sat so often this past summer fighting the memories and the influence of that voice that whispered to him, and he plopped down on the bench where he had met Claire Smith that day Tom had tried to take over his mind. The sun was just sinking below the horizon, bringing with it the greyness of twilight, making the street lamps spark to life. It was all too much. The Dursleys were dead… Mrs. Figg was dead. What had they ever done to anyone? Certainly the Dursleys had never been kind to him, but did they deserve to be murdered just because they were connected to the magical world — to him? Despair filled Harry’s heart. Automatically, he reached out to Ginny; he could feel her there like he always did, sending him comfort and love through their connection. She seemed so far away right now. Harry grabbed hold of the feelings she was sending him and wrapped them around his heart like a safe, warm blanket. No matter what — he knew he could go on because he had Ginny. She gave him strength to face what he knew was coming. Some how, some way… he had to face the monster and he had to do it soon before he lost the nerve. He’d end this if it killed him. And then it happened. ‘Pop’, ‘pop’, ‘pop’, ‘pop… About twenty people in black robes and masks surrounded him, their wands drawn. Harry drew is wand and threw up his hands in a defensive posture. Swivelling around, he realised with sickening dread that he was surrounded. “What do you want?” he asked, knowing as soon as he said it how stupid it sounded. Of course he knew what they wanted. They wanted him. “You are so predictable, Potter,” a vaguely familiar masculine voice rang out. “It was pitifully easy to map your steps, especially after our informants at the Ministry and the Three Broomsticks told us where you’d headed. You spent quite a bit of time here this summer pining over your little girlfriend and moping about after your dead Godfather. I know because I was among the people who watched you.” “You watched me?” Harry said incredulously. “Then why didn’t you ever try to attack me?” “You are as dim-witted as they say, aren’t you?” the voice scoffed. “If I had wanted you dead, you would be. But, unfortunately, it was forbidden by the Dark Lord to touch you. He wants that pleasure himself, and tonight — after all these years — he’s finally going to get his chance to make you pay for everything you’ve taken from him.” “So,” Harry said more bravely than he felt, “if you can’t touch me, then I suppose I’ll be going now…” He tried to make a move to Apparate but twenty spells whizzed through the air simultaneously. He managed to avoid most of them, but at least one or two hit its mark, paralyzing him. He dropped to the ground like a stone, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. He should have put up a shield before he tried to Apparate. Damn. Stephen was going to take the mickey out of him for this one. He knew better, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. “Not so fast, Mr. Potter,” the voice said, amused. “I haven’t said where we’re going yet.” The Death Eaters laughed in triumph as Harry inwardly swore. Ginny… I’m in trouble, he sent through their connection. I need help. Hold on Harry, she sent back. I’m coming. He could feel her fear, but also her determination. Certainly she didn’t intend to come find him, did she? There was no way he wanted her in danger. If they captured her too, he didn’t know what he’d do. Just go get help, he sent to her. Go to Dumbledore… Hurry! I’m on my way. Just stay with me, okay? Harry watched as the dark figure who had been doing all the talking walked towards him with a menacing stride. Harry’s eyes followed him, but he was unable to move a muscle to defend himself. He felt Ginny’s increasing panic as his own tension level rose. Where are you, Harry? I’m in the park close to Privet Drive, he sent back. Hurry, Ginny! I’m trying! The stupid statue won’t move! The password is usually some kind of sweet, Harry told her. Keep trying them until you find one that works. The man was beside him now, stooping down next to him and lowering his hood. “I want you to see the face of the wizard who captured you,” he said. “After today, I will be the most honoured of all of My Lord’s followers, and it’s all thanks to you, Harry.” Harry’s eyes widened. He recognized the man as one of his Advanced Guard, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry searched his mind for a name… Podmore — Sturgis Podmore. He had been sent to Azkaban for six months after being caught outside the door of the Department of Mysteries. And now he was a Death Eater. Ginny! It’s Podmore… Sturgis Podmore. Tell Dumbledore that he’s a traitor — a Death Eater. Harry, this isn’t working! I have to try something else. I’m going to go find Professor Snape. That was the last thing he remembered before the spell was cast to knock him out and the world dissolved into blackness. *** Cold… He was so cold… Harry came into consciousness slowly, the darkened room making it hard for him to tell if he was even awake. His teeth were chattering, and his body ached, as if he had lain for a very long time in the same position. Tentatively he rolled onto his side and drew his knees to his chest, like he used to do after Uncle Vernon had confined him to his cupboard. The thought of his uncle brought to mind the events on Privet Drive and his current predicament. Searching his pockets, he found his wand missing — not unexpected. They wouldn’t have been stupid enough to throw him in here and not confiscate his wand. He just hoped they hadn’t destroyed it. He was very attached to his wand and hated the thought of getting a new one. Taking a deep breath, he felt his wrists and realised with relief that he still had his magical bands on. At least he had that. The Death Eaters who had brought him here obviously had not known the significance of the bracelets or they would have tried cutting them off. He already knew from experience that they would not come off the conventional way — they were so tight on his wrists that they might have well have been part of his skin; he had grown so used to them the past couple of months that he hardly noticed them anymore. A small light from under the door drew his attention and he managed to sit up, although his head spun with every movement. Slowly he swung his legs over the edge of the cot and shakily got to his feet. It was like moving under water, and the closer he got to the door the worse he felt. He recognized the feeling, although usually it was worse. Somewhere on the other side of the door was undoubtedly a Dementor. He was just glad that the door was between it and him, because at least in here he could think more clearly. Back on the cot, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus his senses on the room. He detected layers of enchantments and spells all around, making him certain that any sort of magic he tried in here would not be a good thing. An Anti-Apparition ward would make Apparition impossible, and several other spells screamed of Dark Magic. He groaned in frustration. How had he let himself get in this mess? If he had just stayed with Remus and Stephen, he’d be back at Hogwarts by now with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ginny! Hope sprang to life at the thought of her name. Letting down the Occlumency shield a little, he searched his feelings, trying to connect with her to let her know that he was all right. She knew he was in trouble and had gone to get help. His efforts yielded nothing… A bit worried, he let the shield drop even further. In the months they’d shared this bond he’d never had so much trouble connecting with her and he wondered what could be wrong. Frustrated, he tried again. Still nothing… Panicked now, he searched his mind and his feelings a third time, looking for any sign of her but again came up empty. The creaking of the heavy wooden door opening startled him and he hastily threw his shield back up, trying to not think about the loss of his connection with Ginny. He knew she was safe at Hogwarts so there must be another reason why their bond wasn’t working. Maybe it had something to do with the Dark Magic surrounding the room… He focused on the person who was hovering in the doorway. It was Wormtail looking even more worse-for-wear than he had last time Harry had seen him. Rage and anger at the man who had betrayed his parents and Sirius filled his heart. It wasn’t fair that Pettigrew was here when others were not, and he hated him all the more for living. He didn’t deserve to live. “Cat got your tongue, Wormtail?” Harry asked, trying not to laugh with mirth at his own attempt at humour. There was nothing remotely funny about this situation, and taunting Wormtail would give him no pleasure — especially with that Dementor so close. “N-no,” Wormtail squeaked. “I w-was told t-to come in and ch-check on you,” he stuttered nervously. “Okay,” Harry retorted angrily. “You checked, and I’m awake. You can go now… any time you like.” Wormtail acted as if he wanted to say something else but instead backed out of the cell, shuffling his feet all the way. “Tosser…” Harry muttered to himself when he was gone. He wished fervently that he had not stopped Sirius and Remus from killing the sod back when they had the chance. All of this was Wormtail’s fault. If he hadn’t escaped that night and brought Voldemort back, none of this would be happening right now. Almost immediately, Harry could hear talking and then heavy footsteps outside the door. He braced himself; whoever was about to come in knew he was awake, and that meant that they were coming in for him. He knew he wasn’t exactly popular around here, and just hoped that Podmore was right and that they would leave him for Voldemort to deal with. Maybe by then he’d find a way to escape… He raised his hands slightly as the door swung open again, ready to throw up a shield if need be. He’d already decided to only act defensively at this point. If he gave away all his secrets so soon, they might find a way to disarm him and he’d lose even that small advantage. Harry shielded his eyes from the light, and as his eyes came into focus he saw a figure in the doorway holding their wand to him. “On your feet, Potter,” the cold voice said. “What if I said no?” Harry shot back defiantly. “Then I’d have no choice but to do this… Crucio!” He tried to put up a shield but it didn’t work. White-hot pain seared through every muscle, every nerve, and every bone of his body, setting him on fire. The spell had shot right through his shield and hit him square in the chest, just missing the tattoo under his school robes. He heard himself screaming, as if from a distance, but couldn’t stop himself. Within seconds it was over, and Harry was left panting, feeling as if he had just run a hundred laps around the lake at school. “Let’s try again… I’ll say it more slowly this time so that your pitiful mind can comprehend what it is I’m telling you to do,” the man said with mock patience. “Get… on… your… feet.” Reluctantly, and with great effort, Harry pulled himself up off the cot, swaying unsteadily as the room tilted. He thought he might retch with the effort but stubbornly held it down. He’d be damned if he gave them the satisfaction. The man still had his wand trained on Harry. “Get a move on,” he said harshly, jerking his wand in the direction of the corridor outside the door. “Down there.” Harry almost passed out as a wave of cold swept over him. He still didn’t see a Dementor, but the effects of the creature were much stronger out here. Wherever it was… it was definitely close. Desperately, he tried to fill his mind with happy thoughts, but nothing was coming to mind. Ginny seemed so far away, and he was having a hard time recalling what Ron and Hermione even looked like. It seemed like it had been so long since he’d last seen them… Had it really only been that morning? He tried to remember details about his friends as he had last seen them sitting across from him at breakfast. Ron had been eating bacon and eggs, stuffing them in his mouth like it was his last meal. Hermione had her Advanced Potions book out, looking over the day’s lesson. Harry was extremely grateful that he would miss his usual sparring match with Snape… it was always the low point of the week. Then Ginny had come in with friends and sat a few spaces away. They had played a game with each other, sending various feelings through their connection and trying to make the other one falter. Whoever stumbled first lost the game. The corridor led to a large room, ominously lit by torchlight. Harry gulped when he saw that it was full of Death Eaters standing in a circle, waiting… They let out a great cheer of triumph when they caught sight of him stumbling through the door, held at wand point by the unnamed Death Eater to his rear. “Go on,” the Death Eater said when Harry hesitated. He shoved him roughly towards the centre of the circle, laughing when he fell on his hands and knees. “Not so great now, are ya?” Harry groaned as his muscles protested, feeling the cuts on his hands from the rough ground. Carefully he stood, again using his senses to determine what he could from his surroundings. Like the cell he had been held in, there was an anti-Apparition ward in place here as well as more strands of Dark Magic woven around the cavern — magic he couldn’t even begin to identify. “Look at how pathetic he is!” a witch cackled. “So weak and scrawny… He is nothing compared to our Dark Lord!” “I told you that he was nothing,” another witch responded loudly. Harry recognized the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. “His skills have been greatly exaggerated by those who wish to hurt our cause. The real Potter is nothing more than a scared schoolboy with very little magical talent.” Harry’s nostrils flared at the insult, but he held his tongue. The anger must have shown on his face, however, because the witch laughed “I do think that he’s insulted, Bella,” the first witch said in an unfriendly, amused voice. “Yes… Potter does believe that he’s something special, doesn’t he?” a very familiar voice sneered from behind one of the masks. “His father was the same… arrogant to his dying day.” Conflicting emotions rose in Harry’s chest. That voice he knew all too well. It was the one he was forced to listen to and obey twice a week as he sat in double Potions. It meant that Snape was here — that he was back in Voldemort’s fold. But the question was as always, where his loyalties truly lay… with Voldemort or Dumbledore. If he was acting on behalf of Dumbledore, then he might have a chance, but if Snape was loyal to Voldemort then Harry was no better off. In fact, he might be sunk, considering how well Snape knew him. Then his heart skipped a beat. Hadn’t Ginny said she was going to find Snape? If she had, then maybe Snape was here to help. He was interrupted from his thoughts by the arrival of Voldemort. “Now, now…” the snake’s sinister voice chided from the entrance. “Is that any way to treat a guest? I thought my most loyal servants would have better manners than that.” Immediately everyone in the room dropped to their knees — everyone except Harry. “Harry Potter…,” Voldemort said, his red eyes blazing in triumph as he sauntered over to stand in front of him. “At last, we meet again. I understand I have Podmore to thank for this.” His eyes sought out a figure in the crowd. “Podmore… come forth!” Harry stayed tense and alert, ready for anything. The figure rose to his feet and stepped out into the centre of the circle. Voldemort walked up to him serenely and stood in front of him. “You have done well, Podmore, and Lord Voldemort always rewards loyalty. Draw your wand.” The figure did as he was commanded. “You have my permission to begin Mr. Potter’s education.” Harry’s eyes widened. He didn’t like the sound of that. Looking around wildly, he tried to think of a plan as Podmore raised his wand and shouted, “Crucio!” Hastily, he tried to dodge… tried to raise a shield but the curse once again found its mark and Harry dropped to the ground, screaming. A few seconds later — what felt like an eternity to Harry — the curse was lifted. “Very good, Podmore,” Voldemort said approvingly, “very good. You may return to your place.” Harry groaned but tried to keep the pain from clouding his head. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, even for an instant. Something seemed to be interfering with his magic. He should have seen the spell forming, seen the magic coming at him and at the very least been able to avoid it. Again he looked up at the strands of Dark Magic that surrounded the cavern and wondered if that was the reason he was not able to block the Unforgivable. From his position on the ground Harry watched the cloaked figure of Sturgis Podmore retreat. As he gathered himself up onto all fours, Harry decided that whatever happened that curse would not hit him again, even if he had to bring the entire cavern down in the process. He still had his magical bands on and, if he could get them to work properly, they wouldn’t be expecting it. Even Dumbledore and Snape didn’t know about the bands, and suddenly he understood why Stephen had insisted on secrecy. “I have to applaud you Harry,” Voldemort was saying. “I fully expected you to succumb to my mind invasion tactics this summer, but you somehow found a way to resist them. It puzzled me at first… that is until this last attempt failed. Now I understand what… or should I say who has been helping you.” Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He knew about Ginny — that couldn’t be a good thing. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Voldemort continued, pacing around the circle. “The Weasley girl is very fetching — if you can stand the stench of a filthy blood traitor.” He paused and looked down at Harry contemptuously. “But what does a half-blood care about that…?” Harry couldn’t hold his silence anymore. Not one talked about his Ginny like that and got away with it. “You should know, being a half-blood yourself, you sodding bastard!” he yelled, gaining some satisfaction when some of the Death Eaters gasped and others shifted uncomfortably. Voldemort’s jaw tensed — the only outward sign that he was angry. “I think you need another lesson in manners, Harry.” He raised his wand, but Harry was ready this time. As Voldemort fired the Cruciatus Curse, Harry rolled and fired his own curse out of his hands. The blast knocked Voldemort backwards into several Death Eaters including Sturgis Podmore, inciting the other Death Eaters to jump to their feet in retaliation. “Leave him!” Voldemort screeched from the ground. “He is mine!” His followers obeyed immediately, dropping to their knees once again in submission. Voldemort rose to his feet, an insane smile on his face. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, Harry? That is what I enjoy most about you. And because I respect you, I’m going to give you one chance, and one chance only, to get out of this situation before I kill you.” Harry backed up, keeping his hands in front of him, but he was surrounded. He knew there were too many of them to fight on his own — he was fast but not that fast. “What are you on about?” he asked, hoping to buy some time. And idea was forming in his mind but he needed to do it at exactly the right time because he’d only have one opportunity to make it work. “You see, Harry,” Voldemort was saying calmly as he walked towards him, “I know that you are more than you seem, just as I am more than a mere mortal. I know all about the prophecy.” Harry’s heart pounded. “What prophecy?” Voldemort laughed. “Take your pick, Harry… There are so many. No, I’m not talking about the one made by that phoney, Sybil Trelawney. I’m speaking of the other prophecy… the one that connects us. We are opposite sides of the same coin, you and me. Together, we could rule this world.” Harry backed up hoping to draw Voldemort just a little bit closer. “What are you trying to say?” he asked. “You can’t possibly think I’d ever join you.” “Come now, Harry… do I have to spell it out for you? I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said simply. “You’d be a god among men.” Anger surged through Harry’s veins, but he laughed at Voldemort’s audacity. “You’re mad! You murdered my parents,” Harry said, spitting out the words in disgust. “You’re a monster! I’d never join you.” Voldemort stepped just a bit closer and Harry reached up to the cavern ceiling, sending a blasting curse upward that loosened a large overhang of rock and sent it tumbling to the ground directly on top of where Voldemort stood. Unfazed, Voldemort waved his wand and the rocks stopped in mid-air. Another flick had the debris flying safely out of the way. “No?” Voldemort said, sounding amused by Harry horror — like he had a secret that Harry wasn’t privy to. “Are you certain about that?” Harry couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about where this was leading. Then Voldemort dropped the bombshell, the thing that somehow Harry knew all along was coming. “Even if it were the only way to save the life of someone you love?” He drew out a vial and dangled it in front of Harry’s nose. Harry’s eyes narrowed, staring at the vial of clear liquid. “What is that? What have you done?” “Join me now, Harry, or suffer the consequences. You won’t get another chance.” “Go to hell!” Harry yelled rage building in his chest. Voldemort smiled knowingly. “I knew you’d say that. So predictably Gryffindor… Maybe you’ll change your mind when you see what you’re sacrificing.” He snapped his fingers and immediately a cloaked body fell out of the air, hitting the ground in front of Harry with a heavy thud. Harry bent down cautiously and turned the person over, dreading what he was about to find. Red hair spilled out from underneath the hood as it slipped off the unconscious form; freckles dotted the pale face. “Ginny!” Harry gasped. No… it must be a trick. He patted the face of the still girl, trying to revive her. “Wake up!” “She won’t wake,” Voldemort said pityingly, echoing the words Tom had spoken in the Chamber of Secrets. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” This couldn’t be happening… The girl on the ground convulsed. No… Ginny was at Hogwarts. This couldn’t be right. He looked down at the girl on the ground critically, his heart telling him that it couldn’t be Ginny but his mind betraying him. It was possible… Hadn’t Ginny said she was going to find Snape — and wasn’t Snape here? He tried again to reach out to her through their connection. Ginny! Where are you? The girl moaned. “Help me.” She even sounded like Ginny. Was it possible…? “That’s right, Harry,” Voldemort said with sickening glee. “Severus has done his job well. You see… I’ve known for quite some time now about the significance of the girl, and now I have you both. You can thank your Potion’s master for that.” Harry turned his anger on the hooded figure he knew was Snape. “How could you!” he yelled. “She has nothing to do with this. You’re supposed to be on our side!” “Don’t be an idiot, Potter,” Snape’s voice sneered. “I chose my side long ago.” Suddenly Snape’s robes began to smoulder and catch on fire, caught in Harry’s elemental magic. “I hope you burn in hell for what you’ve done,” Harry said furiously, turning back to Ginny. Snape hopped around trying to put out the flames, aided by several fellow Death Eaters who cast streams of water at him to put out the fire. Harry ignored them as he picked up the lifeless form in front of him and held her close. Her breathing was becoming ragged and irregular. “Ginny… please. Wake up!” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me. You have to fight this.” Underneath him Ginny began to struggle for breath, her lips turning a pale shade of blue. He looked up at Voldemort. “Why are you doing this to her? What has she ever done to you!” “I warned you, Harry,” Voldemort said, his red eyes boring into Harry’s. “You had the chance to save your beloved, but instead you chose to stick to your noble principles. This is what happens to people who love. It is a weakness I have never allowed myself. Ginny Weasley, you see, was given a slow-acting poison, and this vial is the antidote. Unless you make the right choice, I’m afraid you’ll have killed her.” “No!” Harry cried as Ginny began gasping for air. “No, you can’t do this. I’ll do whatever you want… just save her. Please!” He felt as if his heart was being ripped in two and he wanted to scream, to tear the place down… to do whatever he had to do in order to save her. In his arms, Ginny gasped and then stilled. Voldemort tutted. “It looks like you might be too late.” He laughed cruelly, seeming to enjoy every iota of pain he was causing. “Such a tragedy if she were to die… she is so young.” Rage began to build inside him, making Harry feel like he might explode from the inside out. He felt the power coursing through his veins. Like a tidal wave, it rose to an enormous height and crested, spilling out of him with a terrible force more powerful than anything anyone in the cavern had ever seen. The walls began to shake and debris began to fall all around them, but Harry didn’t see… didn’t care. The monster was killing Ginny — that was the only thing he knew. The Death Eaters around him scrambled away in fear, but he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was the monster in front of him, the girl in his arms who was inches away from death, and the vial that could save her life. Voldemort was still laughing and Harry knew without a doubt that he was now capable of killing the monster — to show him no mercy, like he was showing no mercy to Ginny. Deliberately he fixed all of his pent up rage and anger on Voldemort who cast a shield to protect himself from Harry’s wrath. “That’s right, Harry,” Voldemort said, visibly showing the effort of holding back the force of Harry’s anger. “Blame me, hate me… that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to kill me.” Harry’s eyes glowed green, and the power swirled around him like it had the time he had been inside Ginny’s body that summer back in the Leaky Cauldron when the man, Tom, had cursed her. Only this time, Ginny was not cursed — she was dying. The reality of it tore at him, and he cried out again in rage. The earth below his feet shook, toppling several frightened Death Eaters who had not fled. All Harry wanted was that vial locked tightly in Voldemort’s hand — Ginny’s only chance. “I can save her yet, Harry,” Voldemort rasped heavily. “Just say the word and it will be done.” A sudden coldness suddenly filled the cavern, and Harry felt his power ebb. Screaming filled his ears and the feeling of despair after Sirius had died overtook him, taking him by surprise. The presence of the Dementor seemed to suck all the hope out of the air, and it swooped towards Harry; at the same time Bellatrix Lestrange fired a curse from behind him, spinning him around. Harry dropped to the ground, stunned. Harry felt like his chest was being squeezed, as if an invisible rope were being pulled tightly around his torso keeping him from moving his arms and legs. He felt the sweat break out on his forehead and that familiar weakness that came with exposure to Dementors. Through hazy vision, Harry watched Voldemort drop his shield. With a wave of his hand, he sent the hovering Dementor away. It glided out of sight and slowly the air returned to its normal temperature, the screaming stopped pounding in his head. Voldemort walked over to Harry casually, looking down on him like a bug he was itching to squash. “Last chance Harry,” Voldemort said, waving the vial in front of his face. “The longer you fight me, the more likely Ginny will die. Choose now, or I might find myself suddenly growing,” he faked dropping the vial and catching it at the last minute, “clumsy…” Harry knew he was beaten. Broken, he looked over at Ginny just three feet away. She was still as death and he knew that his only chance of saving her was to submit to the will of the snake. “Wh-what do I have to do?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Just save her, and I’ll do anything you want.” “Just lower your Occlumency shield,” Voldemort said, “and I’ll do the rest. Submit to me and her life will be spared.” “Give her the vial, and I’ll do it.” Voldemort snapped his fingers and Bellatrix was by his side in an instant. “Prepare to give the girl the antidote as soon as Mr. Potter drops his shield.” Harry bit back his refusal — he knew that the snake was a liar — but at this point he didn’t have a choice. He’d do whatever it took to save Ginny, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil. Bellatrix went to Ginny’s side and tilted her head up, the vial poised above her open mouth. Slowly, Harry nodded, opening the door to his mind. He felt the snake take residence inside the walls he had worked so hard to build. The snake tore them down like tissue paper and Harry felt his perspective change, like he was looking outside his own eyes from a distance. He tried to fight back — to struggle against the invasion — but the snake was too strong. It coiled around him and bound him so that he had no control over his own body. The pain from his scar exploded and inside his own mind Harry screamed in agony. Helplessly, Harry watched as the snake walked over to Ginny. Bellatrix laughed and smashed the vial on the ground, spilling Ginny’s last hope. Roughly, Harry felt his foot kick Ginny’s lifeless body then turn away, leaving her in a heap on the cold, hard floor. Harry screamed in rage and struggled to free himself from the grip of the snake, but the snake squeezed harder. Like at the Ministry the previous year when Voldemort had possessed him, he didn’t know where the snake began and he ended. Harry cried out in pain. Ginny! Dumbledore had said that his love for Sirius had saved him — that Voldemort couldn’t stand being in a body that loved so profoundly… but the snake just laughed. “I have learned my lessson ass well, boy,” it hissed. “Did you think me sso foolish that I would not take measuress to protect mysself? Your love for the girl can not affect me, no matter how deeply you felt for her.” “You’ll pay for this, Voldemort!” Harry yelled. “You’re mine now, Harry. I’m ssending you to a placce insside our own mind where you can never esscape from.” Something clicked in Harry’s mind at his words. Beware of the Shadow of the Serpent. The Shadow of the Serpent is your greatest weakness... Do not fall into the Shadow… “That’ss right, Harry,” the voice crowed. “It’ss the placce of nightmares, and it will be your prisson forever…” Harry felt a tug and then he was thrown backward into his own mind. He reached out with everything he had to grab onto something to stop himself, but it was useless. The last thing he remembered seeing was Ginny’s dead body lying lifeless on the ground and he cried out in agony because he felt as if his heart were being ripped in two. Ginny was dead. He had fallen into the Shadow of the Serpent and there was no way out. Voldemort laughed. “It is done. The boy is mine!” he said speaking to the Death Eaters who had not fled the cavern. “From now on you will answer to two masters. You have a new Dark Prince! It is time to show them what we are capable of together, my boy. Wormtail!” he called out. The subservient form slinked from the corner obediently. “Y-yes master?” Voldemort pointed his wand at the snivelling rat. “Kneel!” he commanded. “Y-yes master,” Wormtail said, dropping to his knees in fear. Voldemort handed Harry his wand. “A little demonstration for all those who doubt that the boy is now mine…” From afar, Severus Snape watched as Harry’s green eyes glowed red. An evil smile crossed the boy’s face as he raised his wand at the frightened form of Peter Pettigrew. It was a chilling expression — an expression that Snape had never seen on his student’s face before. He held his breath as a slight flicker flashed across Harry’s face, but it disappeared almost immediately as the vessel raised his wand, ignoring the snivelling protests of the balding man in front of him. The next thing Snape knew, Harry’s wand fired the curse that ended Wormtail’s life. [A/N: Well… there you have it. Special thanks goes to Arnel (super beta and good friend), Melindaleo, mbwun5, chreechree, and elgringo for all your helpful comments and encouragement. I agonized over this chapter. Believe me… it was ten times more difficult to write than it was to read, and these people held my hand through it. Christine — you rock! Next chapter is titled “Lost”. Things will keep moving at a fast pace from here on out, so there will be no dragging my feet on the plot. Stick with me and I know you won’t be disappointed. (I committed the cardinal sins in this chapter that elgringo had informed me would make him stop reading, but as soon as he read through chapter 22 I got a hasty email saying he forgave me. It made me laugh, so I thought I’d share.) Trust me… I know what I’m doing. See you next Friday and review away (but please… no flames — at least not until you see where this is leading). I’m curious to hear what you’ll have to say about this one. Remember my mantra… “I believe in happy endings.” FYI: My disagreement with Melinda had to do with Harry allowing his body to commit murder. This draft went through some major revisions and I even wrote an alternate ending, but in the end I decided that I had to be true to my original plot. It wouldn’t work any other way, and if you look back you’ll see that I have been working towards this since Home Alone. She hasn’t seen this final version, so I’m not sure what she’s going to think of it (she’s out of town) but she has seen the next chapter and she gave me her stamp of approval on that one. In any event, we’re still each other’s number one supporters even if we don’t always agree on every literary choice, and I highly value her advice as a fellow writer and friend.] |
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