|
The War We Fight | ||||||
|
Category: Post-OotP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff Warnings: Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 175 Summary: This is the story of a war. A war between good and evil, light and dark. This is the war Harry will fight, where he will learn the meanings of life and death, love and friendship, sorrow and betrayal, honor and hardship. This is the war where he will fulfill his destiny. H/G with some R/H sixth year fic. Hitcount: Story Total: 95173; Chapter Total: 4382 |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Unknown Chapter three:Because every fortress can be breached. Hermione had sent him this book, Harry thought, for his birthday. Nothing new in itself, but it was the first time he had bothered to read any of them. In fact, in the last three weeks he had read just about all the books he owned, and then some. He guessed insomnia was a good thing when one wanted to study and train. Too bad his head didn't seem to agree, and that headaches seemed to be a permanent state with him now. Putting the book aside for the moment, he heard a clock somewhere strike four. It would be morning soon, he realized. Another sleepless night. He got up, and made his way to the bathroom. It happened when he was crossing the threshold of his room, a sound he would recognize anywhere, the soft click, the turning of the hinges. The front door of the house had just been opened by an Alohamora spell. He stopped dead in his tracks, fear gripping his heart, blood pounding in his ears, straining to hear anything else. Slowly and as silently as he could possibly be, Harry turned round and went back to his room. Struggling to think things through, to do the right thing he tried to slow his breathing and get his emotions under control. This is no time to panic, he thought, I escaped worse things before. Taking deep calming breaths, he quickly grabbed a stray piece of parchment and scribed a note to his headmaster. Harry What had happened to the guard? They where supposed to always have someone on guard! How had they gotten past the protection of the blood wards? Dumbledore had sworn Privet Drive was safe! Forcefully pushing those thoughts aside, Harry focused on the task at hand. He handed the note to Hedwig, who had arrived a few hours back with a letter from Ginny, not bothering to tie it to her leg, and trusting she could get it to his Headmaster fast. He heard a faint crash downstairs and a muttered curse. This was it, proof that he hadn't imagined the spell. Quietly opening the window he whispered to his Owl. “Be fast, and try not to be seen, please. And stay safe, Hedwig” she nipped his fingers affectionately and flew out the window, trying to remain covered. Harry turned back to the problem at hand. Seeing his Firebolt leaning against the wall, he realized the safest thing to do would be to cover himself with his father's cloak and fly away, let the Death Eaters find his room empty. But he quickly dismissed the idea. They would be furious, and the Dursley where defenseless against them. He might no like them, but his conscience wouldn't let him abandon his relatives at the hands of a bunch of muggle-hating wizards. It would mean certain painful death. What could he do, then? Stay in his room and wait for them to come? Not a good idea, no place to fight, no room to move and they would certainly have the upper hand. No, he decided quickly, as his time was running out, even though less than five minutes had passed since the break in, he would go down and meet them, take them by surprise and try to take as many out as possible, before he was discovered. He was sure he would be outnumbered and that his chances of survival where minimum, but he pushed that thought aside too. He wasn't afraid of death, he reminded himself, and if he was going down, he was going down fighting. He grabbed his invisibility cloak, and tied her on, like his school robes, to give him as much freedom to move as possible. He covered his head with the hood and disappeared completely from view. He eased his wand from his pocket, ready to cast. Moving silently down the stairs, stepping over the steps that creaked, he pulled all his magic to the surface, as one of his books instructed, coating himself in it. This way, his spells where supposed to move faster and be much more powerful than if he simply used the spell words and the focus of the wand to draw his magic. His heart was beating loudly, and he could feel the cold sweat in his brow and temples. He could now see the people he would be fighting against. He wasn't afraid anymore, but worried. Adrenaline was cursing through his veins, putting him on edge, and at the same time spurring him to act. There where five of them, that he could see. They were whispering quietly in the entrance hall, probably planning their next move, now that they were inside. He had been right in his assumptions, he realized. The five men were all wearing the black cloak and skull like mask of Voldemort's followers. Harry crouched low behind the banister of the stairway, gaining as much protection from his position as possible. He tried to imagine how many he could take out before they noticed his presence. Probably no more than two, he decided. Pointing his wand at the wizard closest to him he fired a stunning spell, and in quick succession, taking advantage of the confusion that followed he stunned another Death Eater that happened to cross his way. There was silence for a second as Harry run for cover, and the three remaining Death Eaters tried to figure out what had happened. “Macnair, what the hell is...” but he didn't finish his sentence, as Harry dove behind a sofa, conjured ropes shoot from his wand, and the third man fell down, hitting his head hard on the floor in the process. There was a moment of confusion, but Macnair, who was obviously the leader of the operation, quickly took control of the situation. Stepping over his unconscious companions, he walked towards Harry's hiding place. Feeling threatened, Harry launched a stunner and a cutting hex towards the man, who blocked them easily enough. Later, Harry realized that move had been a mistake, as it gave away his location. His hiding place was suddenly bombarded by spells, curses and hexes from the two remaining wizards. A dark purple curse whizzed past his head that he didn't recognize, but by the damage it did to the wall, it probably wasn't pleasant. Harry could feel each spell that hit the settee. The cushions exploded in a million pieces. “If I ever escape those two, I certainly won't escape Aunt Petunia” Harry thought sardonically. He was sure it wouldn't resist much longer, but he was stuck. There was a wall behind him, and he couldn't risk leaving the relative safety of the piece of furniture. “He has an invisibility cloak, the little bugger”, yelled one of the Death Eaters, Macnair's cohort. Taking his chance by the respite that followed, Harry sent a barrage of minor hexes at his two remaining assailants, but none hit, he was rusty, he realized, and his magic wasn't responding as well as it had at the end of the year. A month of inactivity had taken its toll on him, and at that moment he felt like hexing Dumbledore for his lack of opportunity to train. That is, if he got out of this alive. Taking deep steadying breaths he crawled till he could look at the room through the side of the sofa. The two Death Eaters seemed to be enjoying themselves, seeing what it would take to blow the furniture to pieces. He really was in deep trouble, Harry thought. There was no escaping this time, he couldn't run and abandon his relatives. He had to stand and fight. He sent another barrage of curses towards the two men, this time taking more careful aim by looking at them through a hole that had formed in the sofa. The first one fell, victim of one of Harry's stunning spells. But the remaining Death Eater was obviously more experienced. He sent a strong cutting hex that flew past the sofa and grazed Harry's arm, a superficial cut, but it started bleeding immediately. Suddenly Harry heard noise coming from the stairs and panic took hold of him. He was barely managing on his own, there was no way he would be able to protect anyone! But the noise of footsteps distracted his opponent too, and Harry took advantage. Just as the man turned to see who was coming down, he was hit by a stunner, and fell head first into the floor. Harry got up from his crushing position and gave an inward sigh of relief. He could see just how lucky he had been. Voldemort certainly hadn't sent his elite to get him or he wouldn't be alive and kicking just now. But the thought disturbed him greatly. Voldemort wasn't a fool; he wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating him again. That could only mean... that there were more of them, probably outside, and they had surely seen and heard the noise coming from the house. The cold feeling of dread was taking hold of him again, but he would have to first deal with his uncle, who had finally reached the bottom of the stairs, and was in the process of popping an aneurism while he took in the battleground that was part of his house, and the unconscious men lying in his hall. “What happened here, you little punk!” he yelled suddenly, rage evident in his whole countenance. Harry heard a noise outside the house, they were coming in to see what is taking so long, he thought frantically, turning to his uncle he said: “Go upstairs, Uncle Vernon, and don't come down, no matter what you hear or see. Do you understand?” Harry's voice was obviously an order, and no one other than Vernon Dursley would have obeyed without another word. The flicker of silver in his eyes and the power Harry seemed to be radiating would have been enough persuasion to anyone. But Vernon Dursley wasn't just anyone, and he wasn't about to follow an order given to him by his problematic nephew. “Who do you think you are, boy? How dare you...” Harry cut in trough his rant, raising his wand and leaving no doubts whatsoever that he would use it. “Now, Uncle Vernon, quickly!” Vernon's eyes went from the point of the wand to Harry's face and he finally decided it would be in his best interest to do as he was told. Grumbling colorfully the man went back the way he had come. Slightly relieved Harry turned around to deal with however it was that had been outside. And found himself face to face with the business end of two wands. He was caught. He closed his eyes in defeat, silently praying for a quick release or a quick death. "Be careful, boy" a deep tenor, tinted with malice said from his left "no abrupt movements or, accidents, may happen" He knew this voice. He was face to face with Rodolphus Lestrange. And the women would be Bellatrix - just perfect. Harry nodded his understanding. "Take your wand and this cloak of yours and put them down in the corner, you won't need them” the Death Eater continued. Harry, cursing profusely inwardly did as he was told. He was racking his brain for a way out, but no ideas came to mind. He was alone, unarmed, at the hands of two of Voldemort's closest servants. There was no escape. He made a bundle of two of his most prized possessions, threw them in a corner and showed them his empty hands, palms facing forward. No need to piss them off before he even left the house. The pain, he was sure, would start soon enough. A shrill laugh that sent a hot surge of anger spiraling through his veins left the slender feminine form of the right. Bellatrix sing song voice spoke next, sending shivers down his spine as it always did. Her madness was probably the most frightening feature of this whole drama. He didn't know what to expect. “Baby Potter knows when to give up! Little Potty is leaving without a fight!" then she added in a lower, much saner voice that sent chills trough his skin "Sirius would be so disappointed! What a pity he is dead!” and the screeching laugh left Bellatrix's mouth again, setting Harry's nerves on end. “But look, Bella, the boy does know how to handle himself. He took care of those five with barely a scratch” He poked the first body that came across his path with his shoe, muttering under his breath, “pathetic. A boy that is barely sixteen. The Dark Lord will be disappointed. Look at those five useless…” he seemed to hesitate on the term that would properly describe his fallen companions “he was impossibly outnumbered; otherwise, he might have escaped. However,” the voice was now stronger, and it cut trough Harry like a steel knife, “he won't. Go ahead with the boy, Bella. You have the portkey. I'll patch those pathetic beings up and follow you in a minute.” Bellatrix didn't bother to answer; she bound Harry's hands behind his back, touched his shoulder and activated the portkey, hidden in her necklace. There was a flash of light then the familiar pull behind his navel as Harry left the safety of his aunt's house and entered the unknown but familiar world of Darkness, Evil and Pain he had known deep down he would soon be coming back to. Many miles away, Ginny Weasley was sleeping peacefully, unaware that this night was about to become her worst nightmare. Sleep claimed her, and she tossed and turned in her bed as her mind was filled with unwanted images. It all started as her usual nightmare, a continuation of the chamber, but this time there was no Harry to save her and where, just as she closed her eyes for the last time, Tom rose and described to her the destruction he would bring to everything she held dear. But suddenly, she wasn't looking into Tom's handsome face, and dark, sparkling eyes. As the Chamber dissolved around her, she became aware of serpentine like red eyes staring into her very soul. She was face to face with Lord Voldemort. His voice, the cold spectral sound that came out of his mouth called her, just as fear the like of which she had never felt seized her. That voice called her name, over and over, and she tried to run, but she could not move. She could only cower under the gaze of the one man that knew the deepest recesses of her soul. Cower and wish the voice would quiet and leave her alone. “Ginevra… You see, you can't hide from yourself, and you can't run from your own mind.” The young girl from the dream curled into a small ball in a corner, rocking back and fort whispering time and time again “stop! Go away, go away!” tears streaming down her face. “But I don't want to go away, Ginevra, do you want me to go away? I don't think you want Tom to go away… You love me don't you little Ginny? You don't want me to leave!” A deep inhuman laugh shook his body. The younger version of herself crawled as far away from this monster as she could, tearing her pristine nightgown in the harsh floor, tainting it with dirt. “Go away, Tom, go away!” she moaned faintly. The dream world she was imprisoned in continued to swirl around her, changing her surroundings and her body. She wasn't eleven anymore, she wasn't the girl who had been in the chamber. She was herself, and she could think like her almost fifteen-year-old self could. And the person she was faced with became clear too. He wasn't the young, beautiful Tom that looked so much like Harry it hurt. The being before her had nothing human left in him, and was nothing but a shadow, darkening the whole world. “Hello, little Ginny Weasley, do you remember me?” “Tom,” she spat the word in his face, although her dream self was visibly shaking. In the real world, she was tossing and turning in her bed, hugging her sheets for comfort. Her skin was moist and her red hair was sticking to her face, a stark contrast to her unhealthy pallor. “Ginny, Ginny… No need to take this tone,” he mocked, “we are only here to talk for a while” he took a few steps towards the girl, who gave as many steps backwards until she reached a wall. “What do you want from me Tom?” She kept her voice steady, but she was hugging herself for comfort, visibly terrified. “I'm here to remind you, young Ginny, that I' m still here. I wouldn't want you to forget our little connection, especially now, that I can open and close it at will. I' m always here, Ginevra, I'll always be here, in you.” A wave of panic engulfed her at his words. That couldn't be true, it simply couldn't. The diary had been destroyed! “You aren't real Tom, Harry destroyed you!” she whispered fiercely. “But I am, Ginevra. Don't you see? The diary contained my memory, the memory of my seventeen-year-old self. So everything that happens to it, exist in my past, because that diary WAS me, just us I was the diary. Do you understand? The connection exists, because I possessed you, when I was seventeen, and I have just reopened it. Quite a handy little thing, if I do say so myself. Quite similar to what I share with our dear Mister Potter, although that will be taken care of soon enough.” Ginny decided that what she hated the most about this newer version of Tom was his laugh. It was frigid, and made his eyes spark, becoming even more demonic than they already were. Deciding that enough was enough, and that they were in her mind, and that she should take control of her own head, she squared her shoulders, and said, in as strong a voice as she could muster. “Get out of my dream, Tom. There is nothing you might say that I want to hear, so you might as well leave.” “Tiring already of our little chat, my dear?” he was mocking her, again, and it made unfathomable anger curse trough her. “I think I'll stay a little longer, I have things to say to you.” “I know this is just a dream, you can do nothing to me here, nothing is real in here. You can't harm me, so get out!” “Maybe so, Ginevra, but how can you be sure that you are safe? Do you want to test that theory? If I were you, I'd do as I was told.” His voice had no laughter in it anymore, he was done playing games, she realized, at least now she would now why he came. Because the one thing she had realized since the beginning of all of this, was that this was not a dream, and that she was really talking to Lord Voldemort. “I came here, little Ginny, to deliver a message to you. Let me ask you a question, do you know what happened to your beloved Harry while we were chatting?” A new wave of panic swept trough her. This couldn't be happening, she thought frantically, this simply couldn't be happening, she needed to wake up, now, this very moment. But try as she might, she couldn't make her body open its eyes; she was trapped in this nightmare, until Tom freed her. “You can't hurt him,” she said finally, but her voice, for the first time that night shook. “He is protected, and you can't reach him.” “You put a lot of faith in what that old muggle-loving fool says, don't you? Don't you know that every protection can be broken, every ward breached, every curse countered, if you put enough power behind the spell? Haven't they taught you that at Hogwarts yet?” It was the first time she felt any emotion in his words. He spoke with such passion and a fanatical gleam in his eyes that frightened her to her very soul. He wasn't lying, and he certainly had the power to break into whatever it was that he wanted to beak into. Deciding it was time she provoked him a little, she said. “You can't breach the Hogwarts wards, Tom. You never attacked the school, because you know Hogwarts is stronger than you.” “You are right, my dear, at this time Hogwarts is stronger than me, But it will come a time, very soon, when it will no longer be the case, and then I will finish what I started in my seventh year, and purge the school of those unworthy. You will see, Ginevra, it will all happen very soon, and then, we will meet again.” And he laughed again, certain of his own power. “What have you done to him, Tom? Where is Harry?” she asked desperately. “Don't you know the saying, keep you friends close, and your enemies closer? He's with me, my dear, I will soon be meeting him, as there are things he knows, that I would like him to share. I hope he cooperates more than you did, my dear.” “Why did you bother to tell me all this, Tom? Why did you come?” she was sobbing, tears streaming down her face, unchecked. “Because I'm coming, my dear and I'll arrive soon enough.” He made as if to touch her cheek, but she flinched away, escaping his fingers. “Are you threatening me? Are you saying in some cryptic way that I'm next? Is that it, Tom?” she cried. “You know, little Ginny. You're the only one that I allow to call me that unpunished. It's a great honor, which derives from our rather unique relationship. I wonder what Potter would do to thank you for your unwavering support this summer? Do you think he would let you suffer? I'll have to test his limits; his love and compassion” he spat the words as if they were some foul tasting potion “were always his greatest weaknesses. And now, they will be his downfall, as soon as I know what I need to know.” He paused for a moment, contemplating her horrified face, and departed, with those parting words. “Goodbye, Ginevra, sleep well, my dear.” In her bedroom, in her home, she woke up, tears still streaming down her face, fear and despair slowly creeping into her breaking heart. |
| Reviews 175 |
Previous Next
|
