ATtD Ch50 pt2
“It’s useless!” Christien yelled as another round of spells were absorbed into the barrier. The chant Bower had dug up was having no effect on the barrier or Rowland’s voice, and Christien was pretty sure anything new they found would have the same results. Rowland had planned meticulously… Gods, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the bastard.
Beneath the chanting, and blasts of power, he caught the sounds of a commotion in the hallway. Helena was guarding the door, too weak from her ordeal to be taking on the barrier. He went to the closed door, calling through to the woman on the other side. “Helena?”
Silence answered him. “Helena!” Still nothing. Raising his wand hand high, he announced to the room he was opening the door, and spelled the door open. “Balten? What the hell are you doing here?” He frowned disapprovingly at Helena, who was chatting up a storm with the Ascian. “I called you twice, Helena. I thought you were under attack.”
“Cred Balten has offered to assist us with the barrier, Christien.” Helena answered cheerfully.
Christien blinked, looked down the hall where two other Ascians were approaching, and looked back at Helena’s smiling face. “Doesn’t anyone understand the concept of ‘lockdown?!’
“It’s alright, Magistrate. We were in, looking around the gardens, when the alarm went off.” Balten said politely, his teeth gleaming fiercely. “I set off to look for the First Chair, but ran into my old friend instead.” He petted Helena’s shoulder. “I was told you have a barrier to be destroyed. We will be more than happy to assist in helping the Heir.”
“Fine.” Christien said quickly, stepping out of the doorway. “I don’t know what you can do that we can’t, but we could certainly use the help.” Where the hell was Lesley?! He was really worried now. After thirty minutes of the alarm sounding, Lesley should have been there by now.
“We absorb magic. It is a useful ability when faced with magical constraints.” Balten said simply, waving his men down the hall. “You may want to clear the room. Our powers can be dangerous when unleashed around wizards.”
Christien nodded. “Helena, take care of it. I need to go find Lesley.” He started down the hall before any refusal could reach his ears. There was no way he could focus until he was sure Lesley was alive and well.
“Elkie.”
The house elf popped in, his short legs having some trouble keeping up with Christien’s strides. “Elkie isn’t finding signs of Mr. Griffith, sir. Elkie has checked with all the other house elves and Enforcers. No one has seen him.”
“Have you checked the Chancellor’s rooms? The dungeons and catacombs? There has to be something, some clue as to where he is…” He froze, an idea clicking. “Nips! …Where are you, you bugger cat?!” He took off towards the stables, leaving Elkie wringing his hands behind.
The corridors were empty once past the main entrance-as they should be during a lockdown! He didn’t believe for a second that Balten had been in the castle before the alarm went off. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he took the shortcut through the servant corridors, not caring that his dress robes were being dirtied by the tight fit.
The Gryphons jumped when he threw open the stable doors, but nothing else moved. He searched the shadows for Harry’s shadow cat, but found nothing. …Wait. There was only one Gryphon? Where was the other… Holdree, was it? Feeling only half foolish-he was well versed with magical beings given his upbringing-he carefully approached the remaining Gryphon who was resting in the hay.
“Forgive me, Sylph. You haven’t seen the Heir’s messenger, have you?” He met the icy stare readily, waiting for some form of response. It was a little tricky, since he had been the one to restrain the Gryphons when Holdree had attacked Clive. He was certain he was not on the top of their ‘humans not to slice up’ list.
Finally, Sylph gave a curt nod and turned her head towards the windows and the Eastern side of the grounds. Outside in the distance was a soft shadow lying in the sun. Christien gave a small whoop of triumphant.
“Thanks Sylph! I’ll make sure you get a prime cut tonight!” Not bothering to go around to the door on the other side of the long room, he bounded out the window and sprinted up to the shadow cat. “Nips! Where’s Lesley?”
…You’re blocking my sun, human.
“Nips!” Scowling, Christien moved around so his shadow was well out of reach of the cat. “Lesley, I need to find him. The Heir is in danger, you lazy excuse for a house cat.”
Nips rolled over, swishing his tail idly. The Heir is fine; no human can bond to him. If the girl was one of his Candidates, it would be a different story, but she’s not. She’s hardly a witch.
“Bonding? Is that what Rowland’s up to?” Christien furrowed his brow. “But what would that do? Even if it worked, being bonded won’t give Rowland power over Harry.”
I believe the Chancellor is going for one of the illegal bonds. Nips opened his eyes to stare up at Christien in amusement. You know, the ones where a partner can be bound into submission.
Christien’s expression turned grim at the realization. “That could be rather bad.”
Nips nodded in agreement. Not to worry though, La Lune’s gem can only subdue the Heir physically. It doesn’t have the power to control his soul.
“Err, right…” Somehow that still seemed pretty bad to him. “So we’re worrying for nothing?”
Well, I didn’t say that…
Christien clenched his fist, wishing the cat would get to the point already. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
It means your lover is swooping in, and you should do what you can to free the Heir before your little castle and its occupants are blown apart. The Heir will remain unscathed, but you mortals won’t be so lucky. That said, Nips closed his eyes and stretched out in the morning sun with a purr.
Christien stared in disbelief at the shadow cat, his foot unconsciously itching to kick the fur ball across the lawn for taking a nap instead of revealing such important information earlier. Luckily, Nips’ backside was saved by the whoosh of wings from above. Looking up, he found Holdree circling around for a landing, flying a little awkward from the extra weight on his back.
“Chrissy, what are you doing out here?!” Lesley called from his perch on Holdree’s back.
“Looking for you, you bloody jackass! What the hell are you doing riding today? We have a situation!”
Lesley frowned, turning back to listen to the person behind him. Shaking his head, he braced for Holdree’s landing and jumped down from the Gryphon’s back. “Sorry, love. I had to go out and pick up little Cissa. Her ride was just too conspicuous to get by security. What’s happened?”
Christien took a deep calming breath. Yelling wasn’t going to help; he was just glad Lesley was alive. “Rowland is using a gem to control Harry. He intends to bond Harry to Jeanette Salvador, or so Nips has told me anyways. And we can’t get at him because Rowland has set up some sort of self powered barrier.”
Lesley frowned thoughtfully, studied his boots, and then folded his arms. “…Won’t work.” He claimed with certainty and turned to help Narcissa down from Holdree’s back. “Jeanette isn’t a Candidate or a powerful enough fae… Rowland is going to feel like such an ass right before Harry kills him.” Lesley paused and smiled brilliantly at the thought. “I’ve got to see this.”
“Umm, about that… Nips seems to think that the spell will somehow end with the castle blowing up and killing everyone.” Christien added, staring uncomfortably at the ground.
“…Huh. That’s a bit of a downer.” Lesley scratched his chin thoughtfully. Focusing on Christien’s pout, he leaned in and kissed him. “Well, best to do something about it, I think.”
Narcissa pulled her hair free from her cloak and shook it loose. “Ah, the Savage Cubed. Lezzy was right; you have grown up nice. Last I saw of you was the bruise you left on my Lucius’ eye. You broke his nose and everything, if I recall.” She smiled and held a hand out to Christien, her other clasping her stomach unconsciously. “It’s nice to see you balanced some height with all that attitude.”
“I dislocated his left shoulder, don’t forget. But no one’s ever confused me for a gentleman, Sissy Cissa.” Even under the circumstances, Christien found his smile to be genuine. Narcissa had been a long time missing from the Council and the Clans. “It’s nice to see you back where you belong.”
“Thank you, Christien.”
“Up and at’em, love.” Lesley suddenly wrapped an arm around Narcissa’s waist and lifted her up into his arms. “Christien, brief while we run. Holdree, thank you greatly for your assistance. I am forever in your debt.” He bowed his head to the Gryphon before turning towards White Towers and taking off at a quick pace.
*******
Time was running out. How long it had been, he couldn’t tell. He knew because he could sense it. While his Candidate’s fought bravely to free him, Jeanette’s soul was reaching out, nearly touching his. Once she tried to breach that final space, his power would shatter her soul, destroying all in reach.
Rowland was on the final spell. He was calling for the first bonds. As each one struck, his Candidate’s cried out and he knew they would not survive.
And all he could do was stand there.
He had sensed when the Ascians had tried to absorb the magic of the spell, and ultimately failed. His soul, his own damn power, was being used against his will to fuel the barrier. If he could have cried, he would have when Lesley stepped in the room with Christien and Narcissa. He had hoped they would have evacuated like intelligent people. Draco would be heartbroken to know his mother, and sibling to be, had died… If Draco lived, that is…
Sire, I’m sorry. I can’t-
Harry watched Ealdian fall as the second wave of bonds struck. Musa was next; Darel crouched unsteadily until finally slumping to the ground. He went to them, his heart frozen somewhere in mid beat. It was either comfort or feel, and those raw emotions were beyond his ability since the summer. It only hurts for a while. Death is just another step.
Is that supposed to be comforting, Scarhead?
Harry stared blankly at the pained forms of his Candidates. It just wasn’t fair.
Do you want to die with us? Are you just jumping to throw your life away…? Heh, scratch that. You’re so pathetic, Potter, you’d rather die than live with the guilt.
…Shut up, Malfoy.
Draco sighed, stepping up behind Harry’s shadowy form. I’m not ready to die, and I’m certainly not ready to let you go on moping away your life.
Harry shook. Can’t you feel it? Just three more bonds and she’s dead. I can’t beat this damn gem. They’re all going to die!
Damn it-! Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him back. I did not waste the last four days of my life meditating my way out of that bloody collar just to die! Now get off your ass and fight!
Harry felt himself fall back and everything went blindingly white. He had the vague impression of Draco calling him useless before the light slowly faded and his vision cleared. Noise flooded his senses and the world spun. He fought for focus, pain burning up his arm and shooting down his spine. Jeanette was lying on the floor, her mouth open in a gurgling scream as blood bubbled from her lips. Her soul was intact somehow… He furrowed his brow, looking for the source of pain in his arm. La Lune’s gem was in his hand, cutting his palm to shreds.
“…Harry! Harry, get up! Hurry…”
What… what was going on? He blinked a couple more times, slowly turning his head towards the voices calling for him. Lesley was wide eyed, screaming at him about something… but the words didn’t quite make sense. Everything was jumbling together…
Potter, you dolt! Behind you! Defend yourself!
Malfoy? A shadow fell over his dazed form, the glint of dark metal on Loxton’s hand catching his attention. Harry’s eyes shut on their own accord while he fumbled through the layers of white fabric to find his wand.
“This could have been easy, Harry. Either way, I will rule!”
Harry snapped his eyes open, his spiritual and physical form snapping back in synch. Locked on Loxton’s looming form, he threw his arm up, wand in hand. “Stupify!”
Loxton flinched, stepping back. No flash of power came from Harry’s wand.
“Stupify! …Shit…” Harry stared at his wand in confusion, unable to understand why it wasn’t working. He missed when Loxton rushed forward, only the sound of the spear in the man’s hand whistling as it arched down, reminding him what he had been doing.
Potter!!!
“Nooooo!” Lesley screamed, Christien and Marjory joining as everyone else went silent in shock. “Harry…”
Get up, Potter! Get the fuck up! You’re not allowed to die, you idiot!
…He was pretty sure it was supposed to hurt. There was a spear sticking out the front of his chest and he imagined it should hurt more.
Well, since it wasn’t hurting he might as well do as he was told… He pushed himself up from the floor, rising unsteadily to his feet. He wasn’t quite sure when his robes had turned scarlet red but it sure beat the white bonding robes.
All right, right, magic now. You need to knock this guy out, Potter. Quickly now.
“…Wand doesn’t work.” Oh, his mouth was bleeding? Didn’t quite feel that either… Geez, what the hell was Loxton smiling about?
“Surprised? I used your own weapon to kill you, oh great Heir. Do you have any final words?”
Of course your wand doesn’t work! You’re a Fae Wizard! Use your bloody hands!
That didn’t sound right. He was pretty sure Fae Wizards used wands…
Potter!
“Quite screeching… git.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing anything soon.” Loxton summoned a dagger from the line of weapons.
“Rowland, so help me I’ll kill you! Get away from him-!” “Harry, run!”
Potter, you delirious bastard, Pay Attention! Kill the freak with the dagger!
“Fine… shut up, already.” Harry raised his arm; it felt heavy… all of him felt heavy, and kind of sluggish. These damn red robes were weighing him down. All right, make the dagger go away. …There we go. He watched as the Dagger of Lost Fate went spinning away, right through the barrier and into the opposing wall. Dagger of Lost Fate… who the hell named all those things? There must be some poor soul stuck in a room naming everything…
Gods Potter, Focus!
Right, killing. He looked around blankly for his victim, eventually forced to look up at the ceiling. “Malfoy… he has wings…”
Harry Potter, you will kill that man now, wings or no wings!
“But I can’t reach-”
USE YOUR MAGIC!!!
Harry winced, rubbing his head with his bleeding hand while summoning Loxton to him with his other. Stupid, screeching, ferret-faced jackass… how the hell could he have ever liked him? All he did was yell and-“Quit struggling!” Growling, Harry grabbed Loxton by his new length of long blonde hair and pulled him to the ground. He quickly snapped the annoying wings trying to beat his face off, ignoring Rowland’s scream. Honestly, couldn’t people quiet down? The bastard acted like he didn’t deserve it.
“Rowland Loxton, you have been found guilty of trying to kill the Heir… which, stated in the bylaws of the Holy Decree of Fae, is punishable by immediate death.” Shit, there was more blood than words coming out of his mouth. “You are also guilty of misusing the Spear of Eternal Darkness, conspiring to usurp the Heir’s power, and nearly destroying an innocent’s soul…” He paused, a coughing fit shaking him. Stupid formalities. “Right… to keep from disgracing Torent and his whole line, I cast you out from the great blood of Torent, and revoke any and all decrees you have made while holding office as Chancellor. Your… your name is wiped from this realm, and I send you to the other side where those you have betrayed will have an eternity to figure out how to appropriately punish you. Any final words, traitor?”
Just kill him already.
Harry frowned down when Loxton remained stubbornly silent, the man keeping to whimpers and screams and nothing else. “Fine.” Shaking his head, Harry blinked away the spots forming before his eyes. He knelt onto Loxton’s back, reached forward to grab the man by the jaw, and snapped it back. The neck broke easily, too easily for a true Fae Wizard. Humans were amazingly fragile, even the wizards with the superhuman magical powers.
Ooh, more spots. That was probably a bad sign… “I don’t feel so good…”
Come on Potter. You’ll heal faster in your Soul Form.
Harry nodded dumbly and fully transformed. His body felt weird, shifting around the heavy weapon lodge where nothing should be lodged. Feeling decidedly tired, he slumped forward, bleeding out on the former Chancellor’s corpse.
Lesley smacked uselessly at the barrier that still refused to fall. “We need to get to him. He can’t…” He had stopped crying when someone had pointed out that Harry was still quite alive and killing Rowland, but the tears were threatening again as he watched the boy tremble with each shattered breath. Harry was dying; more of his blood was outside of his body than inside. There was no way he could last much longer. “Where the hell is Jacques?!!”
“Stand back.” Christien carefully pried Lesley away, indicating the nearest Enforcers to help him with a combined attack.
“Wait…” Marjory squinted, focusing on a dull light growing from behind the dark altar.
“Quick! Break it down!” Stratford hollered from the other side of the barrier. He had a clear view of the creature unfurling from the ground, light rising brighter.
There was a moving mural at the entrance of the dungeons in White Tower. On this mural were two separate beings of great power, changing as it showed each form these creatures took. Sadly, there was no Domin here to battle the Exault rising from the floor.
The being stood tall, towering even in light, and all who saw immediately screamed in horror.
“Harry! Harry, get up! You have to get out of there!” Lesley followed as Obsidian gave a roar and scrambled across the edge of the barrier. He had found the hole created by the dagger Harry had cast away, and was clawing to widen it enough so he could fit through.
The renewed screaming was what really brought Harry back to focus. Not the screaming from the others in the room, but the screechings of a certain Slytherin yelling in his head. “What? My head is… oh…” He focused unsteadily on the blinding creature standing before him. “Auriel Cross…? You… you shouldn’t be here.”
You’ve grown weak, Nox Ămor.
That wasn’t quite right. “…Like hell I have. I’m still a fucking newborn.” Harry struggled to his feet, growling when gravity forced the blade deeper through his chest. His wings were not helping. “This ground is off limits to you. Leave it, or I will strike you down.”
I think the most I have to fear is of you falling on me.
Harry narrowed his eyes, feeling for his power. There wasn’t a lot there; most of it was being used to keep him breathing.
…I have orders to kill you.
“What?” Harry started in shock. “Why? La Lune would never send you to death.”
Auriel Cross didn’t reply. He bent over, his human form changing and twisting until long deadly spines dotted his glowing body. Prepare yourself.
“You idiot-don’t do this! I don’t want to kill you!”
Than I suggest you die easily, Nox Ămor. Auriel Cross shot forward, slicing with his claws.
Harry ducked, falling back on his ass, and rolling away from the next attack. The spear pulled, pain crippling him as the base was caught on Jeanette’s fallen body. Oh gods, that hurt!
“Harry! In front of you!”
Harry blinked, eyes focusing as a small scroll rolled up to him and bumped his nose. Without thinking, he picked it up, mostly to keep himself from going cross-eyed.
“Bumbling-roo! Say it, Mr. Potter! Quickly! Bumbling-roo!”
“…What?” The light was approaching; a sudden pain in his right leg telling him Auriel Cross had not left yet. He tried to find the source of the frantic voice that was shouting nonsense at him. Narcissa Malfoy’s face was a pale beacon across the room, clearer than all the others since she was shouting through a break in the barrier.
“…to activate it! Quickly!”
“Bumbling-roo? You’ve got to be kidding-” A familiar lurch in his navel cut off his words as the portkey suddenly pulled him from White Towers.
*******
Neville speared his breakfast eggs with more force than necessary. He didn’t care. He was not going to offer to help the boy to White Towers. If the Slytherin wanted to be all weird and-well weird! Then he wasn’t going to help him out. He would not be some bloody puppet for a duo of incubi. He Would Not!
“Neville man, I think those eggs are pretty dead.” Ron nudged his friend, hoping to keep the boy from breaking any more plates.
“Leave him alone.” Hermione smiled, patting Neville’s hand. “No one bugs you when you have woman troubles, Ron. Amazingly enough with the rate you go through girls.”
“Hey watch it, you.” Ron said with a mock glare, giving Neville a smack on his back when the boy started chocking on his pumpkin juice. “I can’t help that the girls love my manly physique.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at her best friend. “Last I heard, beanpoles weren’t considered man…ly…” She turned, along with everyone else in the Great Hall, as a loud crack sounded.
The head table had fallen forward and split in half, the thick wood splintered all over the floor in a rain of sawdust. The professors had been knocked back, their legs up in the air except for Dumbledore, who had managed to stand before the explosion occurred.
“Children, clear the room immediately!” Dumbledore’s voice was strained and commanding, his expression leaving no room for discussion. “Prefects! Drill codenamed Stray Dog! Get these children to safe-!” The table exploded, sending chunks of wood flying into the crowd of kids and knocking Dumbledore down. A white figure went flying by, cracking into the stone wall and tumbling to the ground. The Hall was immediately encompassed in a roar of panicked, injured kids scrambling for the door.
“YEHL!” Harry pulled himself from the mess of wood and breakfast plates, calling again for the Fae Chief Warrior. Hell, he had liked it better when he had been in shock. He doubled over in pain, catching sight of a pair of red and gold striped ankles sticking out from the rumble. “Professor…” Dismissing his own pain, he scrambled through the remnants of the table to uncover Professor McGonagall’s dazed form. He only had a moment to pull her free before he had to roll- with a reward of gut wrenching pain- to dodge the Exault’s attack.
Shit, what the hell had Narcissa been thinking?! There was now a school full of children to get in the crossfire! “Auriel Cross! You will cease this… this foolishness! I will not allow innocent-fucker!” His same leg was hit again, deeper this time as the Exault focused on Harry’s weakness.
You shouldn’t have run. The Exault swung again, but Harry dodged this time, shoving his right hand up past Auriel Cross’s guard and through his stomach. The man grunted in pain, raising his fist and backhanding Harry across the room into the Ravenclaw’s table.
“Oww…” He really needed to get this bloody spear out of his chest.
Two birds swooped down, right past his line of sight. Yehl was a Chief Warrior of the Draven; she should be able to handle an Exault. He hoped, anyways. He didn’t know who her friend was but he could only assume it would stay out of the way. Either way, it was a suitable distraction so he could… Hands shaking more than they should, he grasped tightly to the blade sticking out of his chest.
The only reason he was alive was because the energy in the Spear of Eternal Darkness was his own. Of course, it was also the only reason it had hit him, as well. The armor he was wearing was impenetrable to any other weapon. The Spear also had another little quirk: barbs. It would have to be pulled through because pushing it back the way it came would take a large part of his flesh with it.
But it was easier said than done. He couldn’t get a firm grip, too much blood and pain. Errr… why was the world spinning so fast?
…And there were those dots again…
Suddenly Auriel Cross was blinking red eyes at him, flipped over in a tangle on the floor. A roar… familiar… Harry shifted, turning his head back to see where it had come from.
“Please, Sire. Stay down.” Roariel placed a hand to his shoulder, careful to keep from touching the spear.
“Who…?” Harry stopped as a huge beast leapt over the table and barreled into the Exault. It was a Chimaera… a Blood Chimaera. …Nice. He stopped pulling at the spear and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest now that someone else was there to deal with it.
Roariel, see to the children and wounded. This is handled.
Roariel hesitated, noticed that the Exault’s head was nearly off its body, and did as she was told. The students, for the most part, had been evacuated. A couple dozen remained, the older ones trained to protect the school if the need arose. Mostly they were staring in horror as the Exault was torn to pieces, large chunks of flesh being pulled and discarded with each bite of the oversized Chimaera. She picked Neville out of the crowd and waved him over. “Watch the Heir. Unless you’re looking to die, I suggest you don’t touch that spear.”
“Is he…?” Neville couldn’t quite get the question out. Harry was soaked in blood, with a huge spear slicing through his torso. How could he be alive?
“Not yet…” Roariel eyed him sternly. “Keep the students away.” She turned and began digging through what was left of the head table, casting spells to quickly move things before they could fall and crush innocents. They were all alive anyways, although a few weren’t looking so good. Shall I fetch the healer?
I believe she must already know. I can’t imagine they don’t have some sort of communication in place for times like this.
The little prince?
Oh, he’s tearing his way here as we speak. Don’t think those ropes did anything to hold him back; he’s His Candidate after all.
Roariel smiled, knowing full well how right Yehl must be. They’d had to tie the boy up to keep him from breaking down the floo to get to White Towers, but now that the Heir was here, she doubted he would take long to get free. She slung Dumbledore over her shoulder, scooping the diminutive Charms teacher in her other arm and carrying them both to a sturdy table, which she quickly cleared. She didn’t finish until she had the whole attending school board laid out, Hagrid being moved to the floor for worry that he would only break something if he fell. The students were watching anxiously, but she decided to leave them to Yehl. She certainly wasn’t suited to deal with a bunch of emotional teenagers.
Bending over the Headmaster, she pinched his ear until the man stirred. She carefully placed his half-moon spectacles on his face and gave a pat to his head. “Up you go, Headmaster. You have students that need your leadership.”
“Goodness, my… what in the world?” Dumbledore shook his confusion off and slowly sat up. “Oh dear.” He gave Harry’s slumped form a worried look, his eye automatically drawn to the high source of blood. With a rustle of robes he was on his feet and calling out orders, making his way over to Harry. A blur of shadows stopped him, the large Chimaera covered in blood standing in front of him.
Do you recognize that spear?
Hardly nonplussed that an animal was speaking with him, Dumbledore peered intently at the spear piercing Harry. “I see… Can no one remove it?”
None in this castle. The power would kill them.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dumbledore turned to the mish-mashed army of children. Harry would have to wait for now. “To your common rooms. The enemy is destroyed. Anyone with serious injury shall be escorted to the infirmary.” He spared the disemboweled body of the Exault a glance. The children should not be exposed to such violence. The portraits would have summoned Poppy by now and the younger students should all be safely hidden within the lower regions of Hogwarts. He needed to get his professors awake and back in charge before the children began to panic and try to revolt against the prefects.
“Albus, what in the world?! Shoo, clear a path, you lot.” Poppy pushed her way through the group blocking the door. She had a line of house elves in tow to help assist with the large number of injured. “Where’s the most critical? Any magical injuries I need to know? Who needs-what in the seven hells is that!” All professionalism gone, Madame Pomfrey jumped onto the nearest bench and glared at the Blood Chimaera looking innocently back.
“It’s quite alright, Poppy. This friend here has possibly saved us all.” Dumbledore held a hand out to the mediwitch who did not look like she was about to move from her perch anytime soon.
Forgive me. I’ve frightened you. The Chimaera shifted, it’s large compact body lengthening and narrowing until it was man shaped, concealed in a wispy cloak of shadows.
Poppy pursed her lips, stepping down the instant she realized it was just a Fae. “Albus, the critically injured.”
Dumbledore nodded. “Well, I don’t think anyone besides-”
“Potter!”
Draco stumbled through the door, shoving his stunned peers out of his way while pulling a long mile of rope off of his form. “Where is he?! Potter-what in the hell are you looking at, Parkinson? …Get out of my way!” Snarling, he pushed two unmoving seventh years down and conspicuously stepped on a few fingers. “Potter!”
“…Shut your screechings…”
Draco followed the sound of coughing, peering behind Neville’s legs to find Harry bent over and semi conscious. “Hell…” Oh gods, he was dead. He stumbled, his head spinning with the image of Harry dead on the floor.
“Collect yourself, Mr. Malfoy.”
It took him a minute to realize Dumbledore had grabbed his arm and was supporting him up. “He’s dead… he’s dead…” Tearing himself from the Headmaster’s grip, he threw himself towards Harry only to be stopped by a new figure-a bloody mountain at that. “Get out… move it!”
The cloaked figure stood still, anger radiating from it. Just what do you think you’re doing? Did you think you could fool me? A newborn maybe, but not me.
Leave him be, Zunseht. Yehl stepped up, watching the silent exchange closely. That was one of the downsides of telepathy; you couldn’t eavesdrop unless the speaker wished it so. The boy is a Candidate.
Says who?
Says the Heir. She pointed to the ear cuff on Draco’s ear. HE calls him a friend.
Zunseht leaned in, glaring at the dark ring shining on Draco’s ear. So you can touch it? Fine, you will remove the Spear of Eternal Darkness.
Don’t be ridiculous! Roariel snapped. He’s a newborn and a sealed one at that. You can’t possibly think he could survive touching the Heir’s Spear!
He’ll be fine. Zunseht grunted, pushing Draco towards Harry. And if not, it’s not much of a waste.
Roariel made to say something else but Yehl held her back. Remember your place, Roariel.
Draco ignored them all, falling beside Harry. He carefully pulled the boy’s dark head up, hoping to find him breathing and alive-gods don’t let him be dead… “Potter… Potter, please. Wake up…”
Harry’s lips quirked, a soft sigh escaping. “…I guess… since you asked so nicely…”
He would have laughed if he didn’t want to smack the boy for nearly getting himself killed. “Look at me, will you? Just to prove I’m not hearing things… I, uh, I need to see you, okay?”
Frowning, Harry gave a small nod. “I should tell you something first, Malfoy. Don’t… don’t freak out or anything…”
“What is it?” Draco felt like his stomach was going to twist itself into a knot.
“Well, I thought I should let you know… officially, that is. I’m the reincarnation of the Soul of the Ancient Night. I’m the Heir. I should have told you before…”
Draco let out a sigh of relief. “You must really want me to hit you, huh? Bastard.”
Harry opened his eyes, the odd gold present and shining in the green. “Actually, there’s this thorn in my side…” He butted his head gently into Draco’s chin. “Can you reach it for me?”
“Yeah… yeah, I can do that.” Staring intently into Harry’s eyes, he held on a little bit longer, not sure if it was for moral support or the pleasant feeling that always came when touching the other boy. He didn't want to let him go. “Stay with me, okay? I still have a lot to yell at you about.” He scrambled to his feet, looking emotionlessly at the damage. Dumbledore was hovering at the edge of his vision but he wasn’t about to let anyone stop him from doing this. He had let Potter down enough already.
“You’ll have to push it through.”
Draco nodded. It would be easier if Potter could hold himself up… “Madame Pomfrey? I, umm… need someone to brace him.”
Poppy nodded and moved to help, but was stopped when Zunseht silently stepped forward, Yehl walking around to take Harry’s other side. Together they held Harry still, bracing his upper body to minimize resistance for when the spear was removed.
Draco reached for the hilt, pausing inches away as power sparked on his fingertips. This wasn’t going to be easy. He was pretty sure it would kill him, actually. It was the bloody Spear of Eternal Darkness, after all; everyone knew it was impossible to touch. “Potter, this might smart a bit.” He whispered, the humor lost before it had passed his lips. Bracing himself, he took a deep breath and shot his hands out, wrapping them around the spear hilt.
Power immediately shot out, smoke rising off his hands as his skin began to curl. “Grrr…” He threw his weight forward, using gravity to help push the spear forward before his nervous system decided to freeze up. The spear moved slowly, the thick barbs catching and tearing as it was driven forward. Dark power was licking at his hands, splitting his skin in deep gashes. It was so hot the wounds never had time to fill with blood, the skin crisping and turning black. He could barely hear Harry's screams over his own.
Just a little bit- Eyes squeezed shut, he jolted forward, the blade clearing Harry’s chest with a final shredding noise and thump against the floor.
“T-Turn him!” He yelled, changing his angle as Harry was rolled to his side and quickly pushing the rest of the spear through, all the while fighting the suction the blood was trying to create. He had to reach across, his hands uncooperative the whole time, and pull it the rest of the way. The instant it was clear he dropped it with a clatter to the floor, staring blankly at the flayed skin and muscles of his arms, bare bone clear on his fingers and wrists. He couldn’t feel them… couldn’t move them…
“Malfoy…”
Shaking himself, Draco quickly crouched to Harry’s side. “You’re going to be okay.”
“No… your shirt.” Harry flinched as Yehl laid him back on the floor. “I was…was doing so good, too. The spear ripped your shirt… and I forgot… uhh, left your favorite at the castle…” He furrowed his brow as tears splattered down onto his face. “Don’t cry… It's in a safe place.”
Draco shook his head weakly. “It’s not the bloody shirt I’m crying about, Potter. My hands really, really hurt…” The tears only fell faster with the lie and he couldn’t wipe them away with the charred remains of his limbs. “Promise me.”
“Sorry… I don’t think-”
“Promise!” Draco demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Promise you won’t die.”
Harry looked sadly up at the blonde. “I’m sorry… I’ll try…”
“…Damn it. Damn… you sure as hell better!” Sobbing now, he buried his head into Harry’s shoulder.
Harry wrapped a listless arm around the boy, eyes slowly drooping shut without his consent. The darkness was calling. As much as he wanted to fight it, he just didn’t have the strength.
“You owe me, Potter. D-Don’t leave me… not like this…”
Harry was vaguely aware of far away voices shouting, and his body being lifted up before the darkness claimed him fully.
ATtD Chapter Index Links
Beneath the chanting, and blasts of power, he caught the sounds of a commotion in the hallway. Helena was guarding the door, too weak from her ordeal to be taking on the barrier. He went to the closed door, calling through to the woman on the other side. “Helena?”
Silence answered him. “Helena!” Still nothing. Raising his wand hand high, he announced to the room he was opening the door, and spelled the door open. “Balten? What the hell are you doing here?” He frowned disapprovingly at Helena, who was chatting up a storm with the Ascian. “I called you twice, Helena. I thought you were under attack.”
“Cred Balten has offered to assist us with the barrier, Christien.” Helena answered cheerfully.
Christien blinked, looked down the hall where two other Ascians were approaching, and looked back at Helena’s smiling face. “Doesn’t anyone understand the concept of ‘lockdown?!’
“It’s alright, Magistrate. We were in, looking around the gardens, when the alarm went off.” Balten said politely, his teeth gleaming fiercely. “I set off to look for the First Chair, but ran into my old friend instead.” He petted Helena’s shoulder. “I was told you have a barrier to be destroyed. We will be more than happy to assist in helping the Heir.”
“Fine.” Christien said quickly, stepping out of the doorway. “I don’t know what you can do that we can’t, but we could certainly use the help.” Where the hell was Lesley?! He was really worried now. After thirty minutes of the alarm sounding, Lesley should have been there by now.
“We absorb magic. It is a useful ability when faced with magical constraints.” Balten said simply, waving his men down the hall. “You may want to clear the room. Our powers can be dangerous when unleashed around wizards.”
Christien nodded. “Helena, take care of it. I need to go find Lesley.” He started down the hall before any refusal could reach his ears. There was no way he could focus until he was sure Lesley was alive and well.
“Elkie.”
The house elf popped in, his short legs having some trouble keeping up with Christien’s strides. “Elkie isn’t finding signs of Mr. Griffith, sir. Elkie has checked with all the other house elves and Enforcers. No one has seen him.”
“Have you checked the Chancellor’s rooms? The dungeons and catacombs? There has to be something, some clue as to where he is…” He froze, an idea clicking. “Nips! …Where are you, you bugger cat?!” He took off towards the stables, leaving Elkie wringing his hands behind.
The corridors were empty once past the main entrance-as they should be during a lockdown! He didn’t believe for a second that Balten had been in the castle before the alarm went off. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he took the shortcut through the servant corridors, not caring that his dress robes were being dirtied by the tight fit.
The Gryphons jumped when he threw open the stable doors, but nothing else moved. He searched the shadows for Harry’s shadow cat, but found nothing. …Wait. There was only one Gryphon? Where was the other… Holdree, was it? Feeling only half foolish-he was well versed with magical beings given his upbringing-he carefully approached the remaining Gryphon who was resting in the hay.
“Forgive me, Sylph. You haven’t seen the Heir’s messenger, have you?” He met the icy stare readily, waiting for some form of response. It was a little tricky, since he had been the one to restrain the Gryphons when Holdree had attacked Clive. He was certain he was not on the top of their ‘humans not to slice up’ list.
Finally, Sylph gave a curt nod and turned her head towards the windows and the Eastern side of the grounds. Outside in the distance was a soft shadow lying in the sun. Christien gave a small whoop of triumphant.
“Thanks Sylph! I’ll make sure you get a prime cut tonight!” Not bothering to go around to the door on the other side of the long room, he bounded out the window and sprinted up to the shadow cat. “Nips! Where’s Lesley?”
…You’re blocking my sun, human.
“Nips!” Scowling, Christien moved around so his shadow was well out of reach of the cat. “Lesley, I need to find him. The Heir is in danger, you lazy excuse for a house cat.”
Nips rolled over, swishing his tail idly. The Heir is fine; no human can bond to him. If the girl was one of his Candidates, it would be a different story, but she’s not. She’s hardly a witch.
“Bonding? Is that what Rowland’s up to?” Christien furrowed his brow. “But what would that do? Even if it worked, being bonded won’t give Rowland power over Harry.”
I believe the Chancellor is going for one of the illegal bonds. Nips opened his eyes to stare up at Christien in amusement. You know, the ones where a partner can be bound into submission.
Christien’s expression turned grim at the realization. “That could be rather bad.”
Nips nodded in agreement. Not to worry though, La Lune’s gem can only subdue the Heir physically. It doesn’t have the power to control his soul.
“Err, right…” Somehow that still seemed pretty bad to him. “So we’re worrying for nothing?”
Well, I didn’t say that…
Christien clenched his fist, wishing the cat would get to the point already. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
It means your lover is swooping in, and you should do what you can to free the Heir before your little castle and its occupants are blown apart. The Heir will remain unscathed, but you mortals won’t be so lucky. That said, Nips closed his eyes and stretched out in the morning sun with a purr.
Christien stared in disbelief at the shadow cat, his foot unconsciously itching to kick the fur ball across the lawn for taking a nap instead of revealing such important information earlier. Luckily, Nips’ backside was saved by the whoosh of wings from above. Looking up, he found Holdree circling around for a landing, flying a little awkward from the extra weight on his back.
“Chrissy, what are you doing out here?!” Lesley called from his perch on Holdree’s back.
“Looking for you, you bloody jackass! What the hell are you doing riding today? We have a situation!”
Lesley frowned, turning back to listen to the person behind him. Shaking his head, he braced for Holdree’s landing and jumped down from the Gryphon’s back. “Sorry, love. I had to go out and pick up little Cissa. Her ride was just too conspicuous to get by security. What’s happened?”
Christien took a deep calming breath. Yelling wasn’t going to help; he was just glad Lesley was alive. “Rowland is using a gem to control Harry. He intends to bond Harry to Jeanette Salvador, or so Nips has told me anyways. And we can’t get at him because Rowland has set up some sort of self powered barrier.”
Lesley frowned thoughtfully, studied his boots, and then folded his arms. “…Won’t work.” He claimed with certainty and turned to help Narcissa down from Holdree’s back. “Jeanette isn’t a Candidate or a powerful enough fae… Rowland is going to feel like such an ass right before Harry kills him.” Lesley paused and smiled brilliantly at the thought. “I’ve got to see this.”
“Umm, about that… Nips seems to think that the spell will somehow end with the castle blowing up and killing everyone.” Christien added, staring uncomfortably at the ground.
“…Huh. That’s a bit of a downer.” Lesley scratched his chin thoughtfully. Focusing on Christien’s pout, he leaned in and kissed him. “Well, best to do something about it, I think.”
Narcissa pulled her hair free from her cloak and shook it loose. “Ah, the Savage Cubed. Lezzy was right; you have grown up nice. Last I saw of you was the bruise you left on my Lucius’ eye. You broke his nose and everything, if I recall.” She smiled and held a hand out to Christien, her other clasping her stomach unconsciously. “It’s nice to see you balanced some height with all that attitude.”
“I dislocated his left shoulder, don’t forget. But no one’s ever confused me for a gentleman, Sissy Cissa.” Even under the circumstances, Christien found his smile to be genuine. Narcissa had been a long time missing from the Council and the Clans. “It’s nice to see you back where you belong.”
“Thank you, Christien.”
“Up and at’em, love.” Lesley suddenly wrapped an arm around Narcissa’s waist and lifted her up into his arms. “Christien, brief while we run. Holdree, thank you greatly for your assistance. I am forever in your debt.” He bowed his head to the Gryphon before turning towards White Towers and taking off at a quick pace.
*******
Time was running out. How long it had been, he couldn’t tell. He knew because he could sense it. While his Candidate’s fought bravely to free him, Jeanette’s soul was reaching out, nearly touching his. Once she tried to breach that final space, his power would shatter her soul, destroying all in reach.
Rowland was on the final spell. He was calling for the first bonds. As each one struck, his Candidate’s cried out and he knew they would not survive.
And all he could do was stand there.
He had sensed when the Ascians had tried to absorb the magic of the spell, and ultimately failed. His soul, his own damn power, was being used against his will to fuel the barrier. If he could have cried, he would have when Lesley stepped in the room with Christien and Narcissa. He had hoped they would have evacuated like intelligent people. Draco would be heartbroken to know his mother, and sibling to be, had died… If Draco lived, that is…
Sire, I’m sorry. I can’t-
Harry watched Ealdian fall as the second wave of bonds struck. Musa was next; Darel crouched unsteadily until finally slumping to the ground. He went to them, his heart frozen somewhere in mid beat. It was either comfort or feel, and those raw emotions were beyond his ability since the summer. It only hurts for a while. Death is just another step.
Is that supposed to be comforting, Scarhead?
Harry stared blankly at the pained forms of his Candidates. It just wasn’t fair.
Do you want to die with us? Are you just jumping to throw your life away…? Heh, scratch that. You’re so pathetic, Potter, you’d rather die than live with the guilt.
…Shut up, Malfoy.
Draco sighed, stepping up behind Harry’s shadowy form. I’m not ready to die, and I’m certainly not ready to let you go on moping away your life.
Harry shook. Can’t you feel it? Just three more bonds and she’s dead. I can’t beat this damn gem. They’re all going to die!
Damn it-! Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him back. I did not waste the last four days of my life meditating my way out of that bloody collar just to die! Now get off your ass and fight!
Harry felt himself fall back and everything went blindingly white. He had the vague impression of Draco calling him useless before the light slowly faded and his vision cleared. Noise flooded his senses and the world spun. He fought for focus, pain burning up his arm and shooting down his spine. Jeanette was lying on the floor, her mouth open in a gurgling scream as blood bubbled from her lips. Her soul was intact somehow… He furrowed his brow, looking for the source of pain in his arm. La Lune’s gem was in his hand, cutting his palm to shreds.
“…Harry! Harry, get up! Hurry…”
What… what was going on? He blinked a couple more times, slowly turning his head towards the voices calling for him. Lesley was wide eyed, screaming at him about something… but the words didn’t quite make sense. Everything was jumbling together…
Potter, you dolt! Behind you! Defend yourself!
Malfoy? A shadow fell over his dazed form, the glint of dark metal on Loxton’s hand catching his attention. Harry’s eyes shut on their own accord while he fumbled through the layers of white fabric to find his wand.
“This could have been easy, Harry. Either way, I will rule!”
Harry snapped his eyes open, his spiritual and physical form snapping back in synch. Locked on Loxton’s looming form, he threw his arm up, wand in hand. “Stupify!”
Loxton flinched, stepping back. No flash of power came from Harry’s wand.
“Stupify! …Shit…” Harry stared at his wand in confusion, unable to understand why it wasn’t working. He missed when Loxton rushed forward, only the sound of the spear in the man’s hand whistling as it arched down, reminding him what he had been doing.
Potter!!!
“Nooooo!” Lesley screamed, Christien and Marjory joining as everyone else went silent in shock. “Harry…”
Get up, Potter! Get the fuck up! You’re not allowed to die, you idiot!
…He was pretty sure it was supposed to hurt. There was a spear sticking out the front of his chest and he imagined it should hurt more.
Well, since it wasn’t hurting he might as well do as he was told… He pushed himself up from the floor, rising unsteadily to his feet. He wasn’t quite sure when his robes had turned scarlet red but it sure beat the white bonding robes.
All right, right, magic now. You need to knock this guy out, Potter. Quickly now.
“…Wand doesn’t work.” Oh, his mouth was bleeding? Didn’t quite feel that either… Geez, what the hell was Loxton smiling about?
“Surprised? I used your own weapon to kill you, oh great Heir. Do you have any final words?”
Of course your wand doesn’t work! You’re a Fae Wizard! Use your bloody hands!
That didn’t sound right. He was pretty sure Fae Wizards used wands…
Potter!
“Quite screeching… git.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing anything soon.” Loxton summoned a dagger from the line of weapons.
“Rowland, so help me I’ll kill you! Get away from him-!” “Harry, run!”
Potter, you delirious bastard, Pay Attention! Kill the freak with the dagger!
“Fine… shut up, already.” Harry raised his arm; it felt heavy… all of him felt heavy, and kind of sluggish. These damn red robes were weighing him down. All right, make the dagger go away. …There we go. He watched as the Dagger of Lost Fate went spinning away, right through the barrier and into the opposing wall. Dagger of Lost Fate… who the hell named all those things? There must be some poor soul stuck in a room naming everything…
Gods Potter, Focus!
Right, killing. He looked around blankly for his victim, eventually forced to look up at the ceiling. “Malfoy… he has wings…”
Harry Potter, you will kill that man now, wings or no wings!
“But I can’t reach-”
USE YOUR MAGIC!!!
Harry winced, rubbing his head with his bleeding hand while summoning Loxton to him with his other. Stupid, screeching, ferret-faced jackass… how the hell could he have ever liked him? All he did was yell and-“Quit struggling!” Growling, Harry grabbed Loxton by his new length of long blonde hair and pulled him to the ground. He quickly snapped the annoying wings trying to beat his face off, ignoring Rowland’s scream. Honestly, couldn’t people quiet down? The bastard acted like he didn’t deserve it.
“Rowland Loxton, you have been found guilty of trying to kill the Heir… which, stated in the bylaws of the Holy Decree of Fae, is punishable by immediate death.” Shit, there was more blood than words coming out of his mouth. “You are also guilty of misusing the Spear of Eternal Darkness, conspiring to usurp the Heir’s power, and nearly destroying an innocent’s soul…” He paused, a coughing fit shaking him. Stupid formalities. “Right… to keep from disgracing Torent and his whole line, I cast you out from the great blood of Torent, and revoke any and all decrees you have made while holding office as Chancellor. Your… your name is wiped from this realm, and I send you to the other side where those you have betrayed will have an eternity to figure out how to appropriately punish you. Any final words, traitor?”
Just kill him already.
Harry frowned down when Loxton remained stubbornly silent, the man keeping to whimpers and screams and nothing else. “Fine.” Shaking his head, Harry blinked away the spots forming before his eyes. He knelt onto Loxton’s back, reached forward to grab the man by the jaw, and snapped it back. The neck broke easily, too easily for a true Fae Wizard. Humans were amazingly fragile, even the wizards with the superhuman magical powers.
Ooh, more spots. That was probably a bad sign… “I don’t feel so good…”
Come on Potter. You’ll heal faster in your Soul Form.
Harry nodded dumbly and fully transformed. His body felt weird, shifting around the heavy weapon lodge where nothing should be lodged. Feeling decidedly tired, he slumped forward, bleeding out on the former Chancellor’s corpse.
Lesley smacked uselessly at the barrier that still refused to fall. “We need to get to him. He can’t…” He had stopped crying when someone had pointed out that Harry was still quite alive and killing Rowland, but the tears were threatening again as he watched the boy tremble with each shattered breath. Harry was dying; more of his blood was outside of his body than inside. There was no way he could last much longer. “Where the hell is Jacques?!!”
“Stand back.” Christien carefully pried Lesley away, indicating the nearest Enforcers to help him with a combined attack.
“Wait…” Marjory squinted, focusing on a dull light growing from behind the dark altar.
“Quick! Break it down!” Stratford hollered from the other side of the barrier. He had a clear view of the creature unfurling from the ground, light rising brighter.
There was a moving mural at the entrance of the dungeons in White Tower. On this mural were two separate beings of great power, changing as it showed each form these creatures took. Sadly, there was no Domin here to battle the Exault rising from the floor.
The being stood tall, towering even in light, and all who saw immediately screamed in horror.
“Harry! Harry, get up! You have to get out of there!” Lesley followed as Obsidian gave a roar and scrambled across the edge of the barrier. He had found the hole created by the dagger Harry had cast away, and was clawing to widen it enough so he could fit through.
The renewed screaming was what really brought Harry back to focus. Not the screaming from the others in the room, but the screechings of a certain Slytherin yelling in his head. “What? My head is… oh…” He focused unsteadily on the blinding creature standing before him. “Auriel Cross…? You… you shouldn’t be here.”
You’ve grown weak, Nox Ămor.
That wasn’t quite right. “…Like hell I have. I’m still a fucking newborn.” Harry struggled to his feet, growling when gravity forced the blade deeper through his chest. His wings were not helping. “This ground is off limits to you. Leave it, or I will strike you down.”
I think the most I have to fear is of you falling on me.
Harry narrowed his eyes, feeling for his power. There wasn’t a lot there; most of it was being used to keep him breathing.
…I have orders to kill you.
“What?” Harry started in shock. “Why? La Lune would never send you to death.”
Auriel Cross didn’t reply. He bent over, his human form changing and twisting until long deadly spines dotted his glowing body. Prepare yourself.
“You idiot-don’t do this! I don’t want to kill you!”
Than I suggest you die easily, Nox Ămor. Auriel Cross shot forward, slicing with his claws.
Harry ducked, falling back on his ass, and rolling away from the next attack. The spear pulled, pain crippling him as the base was caught on Jeanette’s fallen body. Oh gods, that hurt!
“Harry! In front of you!”
Harry blinked, eyes focusing as a small scroll rolled up to him and bumped his nose. Without thinking, he picked it up, mostly to keep himself from going cross-eyed.
“Bumbling-roo! Say it, Mr. Potter! Quickly! Bumbling-roo!”
“…What?” The light was approaching; a sudden pain in his right leg telling him Auriel Cross had not left yet. He tried to find the source of the frantic voice that was shouting nonsense at him. Narcissa Malfoy’s face was a pale beacon across the room, clearer than all the others since she was shouting through a break in the barrier.
“…to activate it! Quickly!”
“Bumbling-roo? You’ve got to be kidding-” A familiar lurch in his navel cut off his words as the portkey suddenly pulled him from White Towers.
*******
Neville speared his breakfast eggs with more force than necessary. He didn’t care. He was not going to offer to help the boy to White Towers. If the Slytherin wanted to be all weird and-well weird! Then he wasn’t going to help him out. He would not be some bloody puppet for a duo of incubi. He Would Not!
“Neville man, I think those eggs are pretty dead.” Ron nudged his friend, hoping to keep the boy from breaking any more plates.
“Leave him alone.” Hermione smiled, patting Neville’s hand. “No one bugs you when you have woman troubles, Ron. Amazingly enough with the rate you go through girls.”
“Hey watch it, you.” Ron said with a mock glare, giving Neville a smack on his back when the boy started chocking on his pumpkin juice. “I can’t help that the girls love my manly physique.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at her best friend. “Last I heard, beanpoles weren’t considered man…ly…” She turned, along with everyone else in the Great Hall, as a loud crack sounded.
The head table had fallen forward and split in half, the thick wood splintered all over the floor in a rain of sawdust. The professors had been knocked back, their legs up in the air except for Dumbledore, who had managed to stand before the explosion occurred.
“Children, clear the room immediately!” Dumbledore’s voice was strained and commanding, his expression leaving no room for discussion. “Prefects! Drill codenamed Stray Dog! Get these children to safe-!” The table exploded, sending chunks of wood flying into the crowd of kids and knocking Dumbledore down. A white figure went flying by, cracking into the stone wall and tumbling to the ground. The Hall was immediately encompassed in a roar of panicked, injured kids scrambling for the door.
“YEHL!” Harry pulled himself from the mess of wood and breakfast plates, calling again for the Fae Chief Warrior. Hell, he had liked it better when he had been in shock. He doubled over in pain, catching sight of a pair of red and gold striped ankles sticking out from the rumble. “Professor…” Dismissing his own pain, he scrambled through the remnants of the table to uncover Professor McGonagall’s dazed form. He only had a moment to pull her free before he had to roll- with a reward of gut wrenching pain- to dodge the Exault’s attack.
Shit, what the hell had Narcissa been thinking?! There was now a school full of children to get in the crossfire! “Auriel Cross! You will cease this… this foolishness! I will not allow innocent-fucker!” His same leg was hit again, deeper this time as the Exault focused on Harry’s weakness.
You shouldn’t have run. The Exault swung again, but Harry dodged this time, shoving his right hand up past Auriel Cross’s guard and through his stomach. The man grunted in pain, raising his fist and backhanding Harry across the room into the Ravenclaw’s table.
“Oww…” He really needed to get this bloody spear out of his chest.
Two birds swooped down, right past his line of sight. Yehl was a Chief Warrior of the Draven; she should be able to handle an Exault. He hoped, anyways. He didn’t know who her friend was but he could only assume it would stay out of the way. Either way, it was a suitable distraction so he could… Hands shaking more than they should, he grasped tightly to the blade sticking out of his chest.
The only reason he was alive was because the energy in the Spear of Eternal Darkness was his own. Of course, it was also the only reason it had hit him, as well. The armor he was wearing was impenetrable to any other weapon. The Spear also had another little quirk: barbs. It would have to be pulled through because pushing it back the way it came would take a large part of his flesh with it.
But it was easier said than done. He couldn’t get a firm grip, too much blood and pain. Errr… why was the world spinning so fast?
…And there were those dots again…
Suddenly Auriel Cross was blinking red eyes at him, flipped over in a tangle on the floor. A roar… familiar… Harry shifted, turning his head back to see where it had come from.
“Please, Sire. Stay down.” Roariel placed a hand to his shoulder, careful to keep from touching the spear.
“Who…?” Harry stopped as a huge beast leapt over the table and barreled into the Exault. It was a Chimaera… a Blood Chimaera. …Nice. He stopped pulling at the spear and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest now that someone else was there to deal with it.
Roariel, see to the children and wounded. This is handled.
Roariel hesitated, noticed that the Exault’s head was nearly off its body, and did as she was told. The students, for the most part, had been evacuated. A couple dozen remained, the older ones trained to protect the school if the need arose. Mostly they were staring in horror as the Exault was torn to pieces, large chunks of flesh being pulled and discarded with each bite of the oversized Chimaera. She picked Neville out of the crowd and waved him over. “Watch the Heir. Unless you’re looking to die, I suggest you don’t touch that spear.”
“Is he…?” Neville couldn’t quite get the question out. Harry was soaked in blood, with a huge spear slicing through his torso. How could he be alive?
“Not yet…” Roariel eyed him sternly. “Keep the students away.” She turned and began digging through what was left of the head table, casting spells to quickly move things before they could fall and crush innocents. They were all alive anyways, although a few weren’t looking so good. Shall I fetch the healer?
I believe she must already know. I can’t imagine they don’t have some sort of communication in place for times like this.
The little prince?
Oh, he’s tearing his way here as we speak. Don’t think those ropes did anything to hold him back; he’s His Candidate after all.
Roariel smiled, knowing full well how right Yehl must be. They’d had to tie the boy up to keep him from breaking down the floo to get to White Towers, but now that the Heir was here, she doubted he would take long to get free. She slung Dumbledore over her shoulder, scooping the diminutive Charms teacher in her other arm and carrying them both to a sturdy table, which she quickly cleared. She didn’t finish until she had the whole attending school board laid out, Hagrid being moved to the floor for worry that he would only break something if he fell. The students were watching anxiously, but she decided to leave them to Yehl. She certainly wasn’t suited to deal with a bunch of emotional teenagers.
Bending over the Headmaster, she pinched his ear until the man stirred. She carefully placed his half-moon spectacles on his face and gave a pat to his head. “Up you go, Headmaster. You have students that need your leadership.”
“Goodness, my… what in the world?” Dumbledore shook his confusion off and slowly sat up. “Oh dear.” He gave Harry’s slumped form a worried look, his eye automatically drawn to the high source of blood. With a rustle of robes he was on his feet and calling out orders, making his way over to Harry. A blur of shadows stopped him, the large Chimaera covered in blood standing in front of him.
Do you recognize that spear?
Hardly nonplussed that an animal was speaking with him, Dumbledore peered intently at the spear piercing Harry. “I see… Can no one remove it?”
None in this castle. The power would kill them.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dumbledore turned to the mish-mashed army of children. Harry would have to wait for now. “To your common rooms. The enemy is destroyed. Anyone with serious injury shall be escorted to the infirmary.” He spared the disemboweled body of the Exault a glance. The children should not be exposed to such violence. The portraits would have summoned Poppy by now and the younger students should all be safely hidden within the lower regions of Hogwarts. He needed to get his professors awake and back in charge before the children began to panic and try to revolt against the prefects.
“Albus, what in the world?! Shoo, clear a path, you lot.” Poppy pushed her way through the group blocking the door. She had a line of house elves in tow to help assist with the large number of injured. “Where’s the most critical? Any magical injuries I need to know? Who needs-what in the seven hells is that!” All professionalism gone, Madame Pomfrey jumped onto the nearest bench and glared at the Blood Chimaera looking innocently back.
“It’s quite alright, Poppy. This friend here has possibly saved us all.” Dumbledore held a hand out to the mediwitch who did not look like she was about to move from her perch anytime soon.
Forgive me. I’ve frightened you. The Chimaera shifted, it’s large compact body lengthening and narrowing until it was man shaped, concealed in a wispy cloak of shadows.
Poppy pursed her lips, stepping down the instant she realized it was just a Fae. “Albus, the critically injured.”
Dumbledore nodded. “Well, I don’t think anyone besides-”
“Potter!”
Draco stumbled through the door, shoving his stunned peers out of his way while pulling a long mile of rope off of his form. “Where is he?! Potter-what in the hell are you looking at, Parkinson? …Get out of my way!” Snarling, he pushed two unmoving seventh years down and conspicuously stepped on a few fingers. “Potter!”
“…Shut your screechings…”
Draco followed the sound of coughing, peering behind Neville’s legs to find Harry bent over and semi conscious. “Hell…” Oh gods, he was dead. He stumbled, his head spinning with the image of Harry dead on the floor.
“Collect yourself, Mr. Malfoy.”
It took him a minute to realize Dumbledore had grabbed his arm and was supporting him up. “He’s dead… he’s dead…” Tearing himself from the Headmaster’s grip, he threw himself towards Harry only to be stopped by a new figure-a bloody mountain at that. “Get out… move it!”
The cloaked figure stood still, anger radiating from it. Just what do you think you’re doing? Did you think you could fool me? A newborn maybe, but not me.
Leave him be, Zunseht. Yehl stepped up, watching the silent exchange closely. That was one of the downsides of telepathy; you couldn’t eavesdrop unless the speaker wished it so. The boy is a Candidate.
Says who?
Says the Heir. She pointed to the ear cuff on Draco’s ear. HE calls him a friend.
Zunseht leaned in, glaring at the dark ring shining on Draco’s ear. So you can touch it? Fine, you will remove the Spear of Eternal Darkness.
Don’t be ridiculous! Roariel snapped. He’s a newborn and a sealed one at that. You can’t possibly think he could survive touching the Heir’s Spear!
He’ll be fine. Zunseht grunted, pushing Draco towards Harry. And if not, it’s not much of a waste.
Roariel made to say something else but Yehl held her back. Remember your place, Roariel.
Draco ignored them all, falling beside Harry. He carefully pulled the boy’s dark head up, hoping to find him breathing and alive-gods don’t let him be dead… “Potter… Potter, please. Wake up…”
Harry’s lips quirked, a soft sigh escaping. “…I guess… since you asked so nicely…”
He would have laughed if he didn’t want to smack the boy for nearly getting himself killed. “Look at me, will you? Just to prove I’m not hearing things… I, uh, I need to see you, okay?”
Frowning, Harry gave a small nod. “I should tell you something first, Malfoy. Don’t… don’t freak out or anything…”
“What is it?” Draco felt like his stomach was going to twist itself into a knot.
“Well, I thought I should let you know… officially, that is. I’m the reincarnation of the Soul of the Ancient Night. I’m the Heir. I should have told you before…”
Draco let out a sigh of relief. “You must really want me to hit you, huh? Bastard.”
Harry opened his eyes, the odd gold present and shining in the green. “Actually, there’s this thorn in my side…” He butted his head gently into Draco’s chin. “Can you reach it for me?”
“Yeah… yeah, I can do that.” Staring intently into Harry’s eyes, he held on a little bit longer, not sure if it was for moral support or the pleasant feeling that always came when touching the other boy. He didn't want to let him go. “Stay with me, okay? I still have a lot to yell at you about.” He scrambled to his feet, looking emotionlessly at the damage. Dumbledore was hovering at the edge of his vision but he wasn’t about to let anyone stop him from doing this. He had let Potter down enough already.
“You’ll have to push it through.”
Draco nodded. It would be easier if Potter could hold himself up… “Madame Pomfrey? I, umm… need someone to brace him.”
Poppy nodded and moved to help, but was stopped when Zunseht silently stepped forward, Yehl walking around to take Harry’s other side. Together they held Harry still, bracing his upper body to minimize resistance for when the spear was removed.
Draco reached for the hilt, pausing inches away as power sparked on his fingertips. This wasn’t going to be easy. He was pretty sure it would kill him, actually. It was the bloody Spear of Eternal Darkness, after all; everyone knew it was impossible to touch. “Potter, this might smart a bit.” He whispered, the humor lost before it had passed his lips. Bracing himself, he took a deep breath and shot his hands out, wrapping them around the spear hilt.
Power immediately shot out, smoke rising off his hands as his skin began to curl. “Grrr…” He threw his weight forward, using gravity to help push the spear forward before his nervous system decided to freeze up. The spear moved slowly, the thick barbs catching and tearing as it was driven forward. Dark power was licking at his hands, splitting his skin in deep gashes. It was so hot the wounds never had time to fill with blood, the skin crisping and turning black. He could barely hear Harry's screams over his own.
Just a little bit- Eyes squeezed shut, he jolted forward, the blade clearing Harry’s chest with a final shredding noise and thump against the floor.
“T-Turn him!” He yelled, changing his angle as Harry was rolled to his side and quickly pushing the rest of the spear through, all the while fighting the suction the blood was trying to create. He had to reach across, his hands uncooperative the whole time, and pull it the rest of the way. The instant it was clear he dropped it with a clatter to the floor, staring blankly at the flayed skin and muscles of his arms, bare bone clear on his fingers and wrists. He couldn’t feel them… couldn’t move them…
“Malfoy…”
Shaking himself, Draco quickly crouched to Harry’s side. “You’re going to be okay.”
“No… your shirt.” Harry flinched as Yehl laid him back on the floor. “I was…was doing so good, too. The spear ripped your shirt… and I forgot… uhh, left your favorite at the castle…” He furrowed his brow as tears splattered down onto his face. “Don’t cry… It's in a safe place.”
Draco shook his head weakly. “It’s not the bloody shirt I’m crying about, Potter. My hands really, really hurt…” The tears only fell faster with the lie and he couldn’t wipe them away with the charred remains of his limbs. “Promise me.”
“Sorry… I don’t think-”
“Promise!” Draco demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Promise you won’t die.”
Harry looked sadly up at the blonde. “I’m sorry… I’ll try…”
“…Damn it. Damn… you sure as hell better!” Sobbing now, he buried his head into Harry’s shoulder.
Harry wrapped a listless arm around the boy, eyes slowly drooping shut without his consent. The darkness was calling. As much as he wanted to fight it, he just didn’t have the strength.
“You owe me, Potter. D-Don’t leave me… not like this…”
Harry was vaguely aware of far away voices shouting, and his body being lifted up before the darkness claimed him fully.
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