Dealing with Danger
Chapter 50: Life and Death (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 50: Life and Death
"No." Hermione shook her head. "No, Viktor, you must be wrong. You can’t mean this."
"I am sorry, Herm-own-ninny — Hermione." Viktor rubbed his forehead. "I am sure. It vos your brother who attacked me. His spell ended my chances for the Cup."
"I understand this must be terrible for you, Miss Granger-Lupin," said Karkaroff from Viktor’s other side, reaching over him to pat Hermione’s shoulder. "But I’m sure you’ll do the right thing."
Hermione moved back a little to avoid Karkaroff’s hand, and lost her balance as her collarbone suddenly seemed to contract. Cold — God, it’s right through me, what —
Her breath deserted her as she understood. "No," she panted, pushing herself up to sitting. "No, no, no..."
"No? You won’t do the right thing?" Karkaroff sounded puzzled, but Hermione barely heard him. She was on her knees now, then on her feet, staring towards the section of the stands she’d abandoned when Hagrid had brought Viktor from the maze, unconscious. People were hurrying about it purposefully, and as she watched, Padfoot turned towards her and waved her in.
"I’m sorry," she babbled. "I’m sorry, but I have to go — something’s wrong — it’s Harry — I have to go—"
"Herm-own-ninny, vait," Viktor called, but Hermione was already four steps away from him and moving fast.
Harry was in trouble.
xXxXx
"What in Merlin’s name is going on over there?" asked Cornelius Fudge, craning his neck from the teachers’ and judges’ section to peer at a section of the stands. "Someone just screamed, a girl — and there’s something coming this way, an animal of some sort — Dumbledore, what’s going on?"
"Something has gone wrong, Cornelius."
"Wrong? How?"
Dumbledore was spared having to answer by the arrival of the tan wolf, which reared up and was Danger again. "What is it?" she said without preamble.
"A Portkey," Dumbledore said. "I could not stop it."
"Understood." Danger’s eyes swirled. "You can track it, though."
"Of course." Dumbledore rose.
"Track it — Portkey — what are you talking about?" Fudge demanded. "What Portkey is this?"
"One I did not expect, Cornelius. Perhaps I should have, but I did not."
Fudge looked from Dumbledore to the maze and back again. "Dumbledore, are you saying someone placed a Portkey on Hogwarts grounds without your knowledge?"
"That’d seem to be it, wouldn’t it?" said Moody from the row below without bothering to turn. "I can get started tracking it, Dumbledore, if you’ve other things to do."
"Thank you, Alastor. Call on a house-elf if you need one."
"Who was taken?" Minerva asked as Moody started to the ground level.
"Harry and Cedric."
"No news of Fleur?" said Madame Maxime, frowning. "It is not like ‘er."
"Dumbledore, you can’t mean this," Fudge blustered. "How could anyone get onto these grounds, set a Portkey, without being seen? It goes against common sense—"
"It also goes against common sense," said Bartemius Crouch unexpectedly, "that anyone would force their way into a man’s house and hold him hostage, not because he knows anything or does anything that would help them, but just because they like to have power. And yet it happened." He looked Fudge in the eye, and Dumbledore allowed himself a tiny spike of satisfaction at Fudge’s shuddering recoil. "Things happen you’re not ready for, Cornelius. Things go wrong." He turned to Dumbledore. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I hesitate to ask—"
"Don’t."
"The Diggorys."
Crouch nodded and started down the stairs after Moody.
"Dumbledore, this is ridiculous. Who would possibly—"
"Excuse me," Danger broke in. She was kneeling in front of an empty seat, one between Dumbledore’s own and Madame Maxime’s. "Who was sitting here?"
"Karkaroff, of course," said Fudge irritably, then turned back to Dumbledore. "You’re fear-mongering, Dumbledore, and I won’t have it. The Tournament’s had its troubles, but—"
Danger cut him off again. "Where did he go?"
"He is on the field," Dumbledore said, then looked. Krum sat alone, bewildered. "Or perhaps not. Do you need him?"
"I want to talk to him." The velvet steel in Danger’s voice drew every eye to her. Even Fudge stopped griping for a moment. "About something that happened a long time ago. Pardon me."
The woman became the wolf, the wolf lowered its nose and vanished down the stairs. Fudge stared after her for a moment, then looked up and squawked. "Dumbledore!"
"Animagus, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, though he could appreciate Fudge’s feelings, and the gasps and screams running through the crowd. Not even at Hogwarts were lions a usual part of the scenery, and a lion galloping straight towards one did tend to inspire fear.
"What did you say to her?" Remus demanded almost before he’d retransformed. "I can barely feel her, I have no idea where she is—"
"Karkaroff," said Madame Maxime, looking down at Remus in puzzlement. "What do you mean by ‘feel ‘er’?"
"She’s been fretting all day over a dream she had last night," Remus said, ignoring this. "About the Death Eaters who killed her parents — Malfoy killed her father, but she didn’t know the one who killed her mother—"
Dumbledore held up a hand. "Does she want revenge on him?" he asked.
"I — I don’t know. Maybe. Yes." Remus’ eyes widened, entirely blue. "God, Albus, she could be anywhere, doing anything—"
"But she will not." Dumbledore twitched his wand around his head, giving himself the ability to see Danger’s trail as a glowing line. "Remus, listen to me," he said, following the line of light with his eyes. "You must be in charge of finding Harry and Cedric. Alastor is tracking the Portkey that took them, and you will know other ways better than I. Leave Danger to me. Do not try to break through to her, do not even try to touch her, if you value her life. Wait for her to call to you, and then do what you think best."
"But—"
Dumbledore was already moving, following Danger’s path, praying he was not already too late.
No. I would know if I were. Remus would have reacted. I will be in time.
He pushed away thoughts of Harry and Cedric, so young, so unprepared for what he feared had befallen them. And we cannot help them until we know where they have gone, and constructing a Portkey trace takes at least five minutes...
But I cannot worry about them now. I must trust that others will help them, and concentrate on the task in front of me.
Will I be able to reach her? And will I be in time?
xXxXx
Heat throbbed in Harry’s forehead, cold beat against his chest, the tombstone to which he was bound chilled the rest of him. He forced himself to draw each breath, to keep his eyes open against the pain in his head and his leg, to watch and listen.
Wormtail had vanished around the side of the stone after tying and gagging Harry. The golden Triwizard Cup lay several yards away, among the other tombstones. There was no sign of Cedric.
He must have run. I hope he gets away.
The bundle of cloth Wormtail had been carrying stirred on the ground. Harry gagged as the smell from it reached him, and another pulse of pain shot through his scar.
Voldemort... but how...?
A rustle at his feet, and the giant snake Voldemort had called Nagini slithered out of the grass to regard him. "I will have you soon, frightened boy," she hissed, her tongue flicking to taste his scent. "My master has promised."
Wormtail’s gasping breaths grew louder in Harry’s right ear, along with an intermittent dragging sound and a splashing. Harry strained his eyes to the right and was rewarded with a glimpse of Wormtail, throwing himself against an enormous stone cauldron, big enough that Harry could have hidden inside it. The liquid within it slopped around as Wormtail shoved it to the foot of the headstone where Harry was bound.
"Hurry!" whispered a cold voice, and the bundle on the ground stirred again, as if something within wanted to be free. Harry almost retched, but held it back. He couldn’t be sick, not here, not now.
Wormtail had lit a fire under the cauldron, the shimmering liquid within was starting to steam and bubble, boiling unnaturally fast even for a potion. Nagini slipped away around the side of the tombstone. Harry’s head pounded harder than ever.
"It is ready, Master," Wormtail breathed.
"Now..."
Wormtail pulled open the bundle of cloth on the ground, and a sound that was half yell, half howl escaped from Harry. The thing crouching on the ground horrified his wolf instincts and his human mind equally. It was the size and shape of a human toddler, but its arms and legs were too thin for its body, its skin was red and raw, covered with scabs —
Or scales?
Harry’s eyes fell on its face, and he shrank back against the tombstone. Red eyes, hungry and slitted, gleamed above a flat place where a nose should have been and a gash of a mouth. It opened, and a pale tongue traced invisible lips.
"Now," Voldemort repeated, and Wormtail bent, taking his master in his arms in a parody of a father’s tenderness. Harry watched Wormtail’s face twist in disgust as he carried the creature to the cauldron, watched it straighten out again as he lowered it down and let it go. A small splash, and the roiling surface of the potion was again unmarked.
The pain in Harry’s head was blotting out everything else, he was starting to see red and black. He bit his lip until he tasted blood and focused on that, on the salt-copper-iron flavor, forcing the pain back. I have to stay awake... stay awake...
xXxXx
Igor Karkaroff moved silently through the undergrowth at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, hidden by his demiguise-fur-lined cloak and the gathering darkness. He could follow the Forest to the school wall, and from there to the gate — Dumbledore shouldn’t be too interested in one man leaving, not with his golden boy missing —
He suspected me, but I outfoxed him, the old fool. He smirked as he thought of how easy it had been. Barty Crouch had fallen under the Imperius easily, his mind and body recalling old habits, and under that Imperius had carried the carefully vetted Triwizard Cup into the maze. And there — ah, there...
Karkaroff chuckled in his throat. I knew Dumbledore had a spell-watch out on the maze, checking to make sure no one set any traps. Poor, clumsy Bartemius, dropping the cup. And such shoddy workmanship, for both its handles to fall off. Good thing old Barty could fix them back on. Or rather, fix on the replacements I gave him — the replacements, already turned into Portkeys...
His chuckle grew louder. Why not? No one had noticed his going, no one but Viktor, and Viktor wouldn’t betray him. Besides, in a few moments it would no longer matter. Any minute, any second, he would know again the exultation of agony that was his master’s call.
I was a fool to think that I could ever escape from him — no, I was a fool to wish to escape from him. Running from him means only death. But I gave him what he wanted, what his other servants couldn’t give — I gave him Harry Potter. For that, I will be honored above all others, even the ones who remained faithful —
Something caught him in the stomach, and he doubled up, wheezing. His brain screamed for air, but his lungs seemed to have forgotten how to function —
"Hello," said a quiet voice from the darkness ahead, a woman’s voice, chilling in its utter lack of inflection. "Do you know me?"
A light flickered into existence at waist-level. Gasping, Karkaroff looked up.
"My name is Danger," the woman said, the dancing flames in her hand shedding an unearthly pattern of light and shadows over her features. "You killed my mother."
"No," Karkaroff forced out with his first half-breath. "I never... I was forced..."
"You lie." A flip of her fingers, and his cloak was aflame. He ripped it from his back, coughing with the smoke, and flung it from him, towards her. Her eyes flicked up to it, and it flared and was gone, raining ash down upon them.
He’d seen her face more clearly in the flash of light. "Granger-Lupin," he breathed.
"You know my name." Her eyes held his without mercy. "Do you remember hers? Or did you never bother to learn it?"
"I swear, on my honor—"
"You have no honor." Her voice dripped contempt now. "Changing sides every time the wind blows a different way — what is your true face? Where does your allegiance lie? Or is it only to yourself?"
Karkaroff fell to his knees, sliding his right hand unobtrusively into a pocket. If he could just get his hand on his wand without her noticing... "Spare me, please," he babbled. "I regret what I did — I had no choice — let me face justice, I will make restitution—"
"Liar!" The woman pointed at his reaching hand. Karkaroff screamed as flames wreathed it, burning into his skin. "You regret nothing! I watched you! You laughed while they screamed, you begged for a chance to kill one of them!" Her voice lowered into a growl. "Now beg me."
"Let me live," Karkaroff whimpered. His hand throbbed in pain, and he cradled it to his chest. "Please, let me live..."
xXxXx
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" cried Wormtail in a shaking voice, the wand in his hand pointing towards Harry’s feet. The ground cracked, and a fine stream of dust rose up. Wormtail waved the wand, and the dust fell softly into the cauldron. The liquid within hissed and sparked, bubbled up to the lip of the cauldron, and turned a vivid, poisonous blue before returning to its original furious boil.
Let it boil over, Harry thought desperately. Let it put out the fire...
Wormtail stepped closer to the cauldron, pulling a silver dagger from his robes, longer and thinner than Harry’s own. His voice shook almost as much as his hands. "Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will — revive — your master."
Harry watched the dagger’s upswing in Wormtail’s left hand, watched it glow brilliantly red, realized in that instant what Wormtail was about to do — he clenched his eyes shut, but he had no way to block the scream that shattered the night, or the splash as something fell into the cauldron — the red light of the potion penetrated his eyelids, and a hiss from the fire told him that a little of the potion, at least, had boiled over, but obviously not enough to put the fire out —
Put the fire out. The fire.
I’m supposed to be the Heir of Gryffindor. I’m supposed to have power over fire.
And I know I can put fires out. I’ve done it before.
Harry opened his eyes. Wormtail was bent over next to the cauldron, but he was straightening up, coming towards Harry, the dagger still in his left hand, his breath sobbing in his throat. Behind him, the cauldron still boiled, the fire under it still danced —
Not for long.
Harry aimed his will at the fire, feeding all his pain, all his anger, all his disgust and horror into the command. Go out, he ordered it. Go out now.
Wormtail was right in front of him, blocking his view, but it didn’t, it couldn’t matter. This was his only chance, his only hope. Go out, fire. Stop burning. Die.
"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."
Harry’s concentration almost broke. He snatched the new fear and pushed it into the magic. This is the only way to stop him. The only way. The only...
Pain in the crook of his left elbow. Harry snarled. Stop fighting me! Go out NOW!
The light in the clearing died. Wormtail whirled, dropping the dagger. "Master!" he shrieked.
Harry sagged against his bonds, breathing hard.
I did it. I did it. I don’t believe it.
Now I have to get free...
xXxXx
Remus watched the hedges of the maze slowly shrink into the ground. Madame Maxime, worried about Fleur, and Fudge, unable or unwilling to believe what Dumbledore had said, had asked if there were some way to take the maze down and see what was within.
It may not help Harry, but it feels better to be doing something.
Or rather, to have asked someone else to do something.
Remus’ eyes moved to the two figures side by side on the field, sitting cross-legged with their hands planted on the ground, one slightly larger than the other, both glowing ever so faintly golden-yellow. I just hope no one else sees it. But they won’t — Bagman told everyone there was some innate enchantment in the hedges to make them come down, so that’s what everyone believes. For once, gullibility is on our side.
Minerva, Hagrid, and the other teachers, along with a few audience volunteers (notably Charlie Weasley and Tonks) were spread out around the perimeter of the maze, ready to capture the creatures and dispel the enchantments. Moody was off to one side, mapping the Portkey trace. Krum sat in the stands watching. There was still no sign of Dumbledore, Karkaroff, or Danger.
And the rest of the Pack, and the Pride, are going quietly berserk.
xXxXx
Ginny was sure she’d permanently imprinted her palm with the carvings on her pendants, and she didn’t care. They were her only link to Harry. She wasn’t going to let go until he was found.
Mum was a few seats away with Bill and the twins, watching the field intently. Below her, Ron was pacing the stands, his fists clenched as he tried to work off his nervous energy. Hermione twisted handfuls of her robe into knots, then untwisted them. Draco sat very still, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the bench. Meghan was watching the distant figure of Neville, sitting beside his father, working to lower the hedges of the maze where Harry had vanished. Luna was a seat or two above them all, surrounded by her father and Mr. Padfoot and Mrs. Letha, all talking quietly about something. Whatever it is, it had better be about helping Harry...
A wave of anger swamped her, and she clenched her hand more tightly still around her pendants. Nobody is doing anything! Nobody is even trying! If I had any way to help Harry, I’d do it, I don’t care if it hurt or if it was hard or if it took something away I could never get back! I’d do it no matter what it took!
She could feel the blood pulsing through her hand now, could practically see it, rushing red through her fingers. I’d bleed if I had to. If it would get Harry back here safely, I’d bleed. I’d bleed until my heart couldn’t beat anymore —
Thoughts of Harry and heartbeats rushed together into a memory, and Ginny was on her feet, dropping the pendants. "Everyone come here!" she cried. "I know what we can do!"
xXxXx
Wait a minute. I’m tied with rope. Rope burns. Can I burn the rope off me?
A flash of heat shot through his pendants, and tiny flares erupted at multiple points down his body.
That would be a yes.
Automatically, Harry shifted forms as he fell, landing softly on three legs and suppressing a yelp. He couldn’t afford to attract Wormtail’s attention, even for a second. Tail down, his bad leg curled under him, he crept around the tombstone, spat out the gag, and turned —
To come face to face with Nagini.
"Master!" the snake hissed out. "Mas—"
Wolf had her by the throat before she could finish the word. He bit down harder and harder, snarling under his breath, until he felt her go limp in his jaws. "Who has who now?" he growled around her body. "So much for promises."
The smell of fire and a flash of white light from the other side of the tombstone recalled Harry to himself. It seemed Wormtail had managed to start the fire again.
And I don’t really want to find out whether it still works or not.
Freeing himself of the snake’s body, he started to run.
xXxXx
The woman’s lip curled as she stared at Karkaroff. "You don’t deserve life," she said coldly.
"And that is why you must give it to him," a new voice said, firm and clear. A bright light shone into Karkaroff’s eyes from one side, nearly blinding him.
The woman turned to face the light. "Stay out of this, Albus," she warned. "This is my business, not yours."
"Not true, Danger." Albus Dumbledore moved a few steps closer, his wand directed at Karkaroff. "I have made it my life’s business to stop those who do not understand what they are doing."
"I understand what I’m doing. I’m ridding the world of a parasite."
"Are you?" Dumbledore’s eyes raked Karkaroff coolly before returning to the woman. "Or are you seeking revenge for your mother’s death?"
The woman sucked air through clenched teeth. "I told you to get out," she said, lifting a hand. "Or it won’t be just him I flame next."
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "If you attack me, dear Danger, I must defend myself, and whilst we fight, Igor may escape, something I am sure you are eager to prevent. Stop for a moment and think about what you are doing. Really think. What has Igor Karkaroff done to you that would give you the right to kill him?"
"He killed my mother!"
"I do not deny it. But that was nearly fifteen years ago. What has he done more recently?"
"Harry," the woman said certainly. "He’s behind what’s happened to Harry, he must be—"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore acknowledged. "But killing him will not return Harry to us."
The woman’s face creased in an animal snarl. "He deserves to die!" she shouted.
"Can you say that?" Dumbledore’s wand never wavered from Karkaroff’s chest as he spoke to the woman. "It is more than I would say, and I have lived much longer than you, and seen much more of life. Answer me this. What benefit, here and now, will killing this man bring to you, or to anyone?"
The woman’s breath was coming fast and hard, her fists were balled. "I want his life," she growled. "I want to watch him die, and I want him to know why."
"You wish to murder him."
"I want justice!"
Karkaroff tried to edge away. Dumbledore’s wand stabbed at him, and he was frozen in place. "You want to murder him," the old man repeated. "You want to kill him without giving him any chance to defend himself. To this end, you attacked him, without warning and with superior power. And you have cut yourself off from your husband, who would stop you from doing this if he knew. Can you deny this?"
The woman tipped her head back and screamed. Karkaroff’s paralysis ended, and he fell to the ground, jarring his hand. He never even heard his own cry of pain in the endless scream that filled his ears and his mind and left no room for anything else.
xXxXx
Remus shuddered as Danger’s sense, shielded as it was, twisted in rage. To keep his mind off her, he peered over the stands. What are Sirius and Aletha doing with Luna? It looks like they’re trying to talk her into something, and she doesn’t want to.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he ran up the stands to the passages between sections, coming down again directly above the little knot of people. "Do you really think I should?" Luna was saying as Remus got close enough to hear. "Really?"
"You’re our best hope, Luna," Aletha said, pressing the girl’s hand. "You’re Harry’s best hope. You don’t have to, but if you would..."
"I know it frightens you to see, baby," Gerald Lovegood told his daughter, embracing her briefly with one arm. "But Mrs. Letha’s right. If you could see where Harry is, then maybe somebody could go and help him. And I know you could see where he is. You’re just that smart."
"Please, Luna," Sirius said hoarsely. "Please."
Luna lifted her pendants and looked at them for a moment or two. Then she selected one with a blue jewel and closed her fingers around it. "Volo videre novi," she said carefully.
Blue light flared and faded.
xXxXx
Karkaroff stared up at the woman, her face twisted in fury and surrounded by flames. She lifted her hand high, then slammed it down towards him —
And a pillar of flame crashed into the ground a bare inch from his nose and disappeared.
"I can’t," the woman said softly. The fire around her flickered and went out. "You’re right. You’re so right..." She backed away from him, staring at her hands. "Albus, what have I done?"
"Nothing," said Dumbledore, moving quickly to her side. "Nothing, dear heart. Nothing that you will regret now."
"Thanks to you." She embraced him, burying her face in his shoulder for a moment. Dumbledore stroked her wild hair, murmuring to her, but his eyes were still on Karkaroff, and his wand was loose in his hand, ready to move.
"I must return to the stadium," the old Headmaster said after a moment. "They may need me. Will you be all right here?"
"I think so." She pushed away from him. "Yes. I’ll be all right now."
Her eyes closed and opened, and Dumbledore smiled at what he saw. "Yes, you will be," he said. "I leave you, then." He turned and hurried away.
The woman turned back to Karkaroff, a smile touching her lips. "So you get what you asked for," she said. "I’ll hand you over to the Ministry after all. And I don’t think you have anything to bargain with this time."
Karkaroff gritted his teeth. This is not the way it was supposed to go.
xXxXx
Remus caught a grateful breath as Danger’s touch opened to him again. You’re all right.
Yes, I’m fine. You?
Likewise. Remus let the last few minutes’ worth of happenings spill into Danger’s mind, while he caught sight through her eyes of a kneeling, defeated Karkaroff. Luna’s looking for him right now, he finished.
xXxXx
Wolf dodged between tombstones, favoring his bad leg, hoping he was still going in the right direction. He’d hide behind the tombstones, wait for help to come —
A dark shape erupted from behind a nearby stone. Wolf snarled and leapt at it.
"Harry, no, it’s me!" the shape babbled as it went down under Wolf’s weight. "Harry, don’t—"
Harry changed back. "Sorry," he breathed, rolling off Cedric. "Did I hurt you?"
"No — what was that back there?" Cedric looked pale and shocked. "What’s going on?"
"Voldemort’s here." Harry leaned against a tombstone, feeling drained. It had never hit him so hard before that the Animagus transformation took a lot of energy to do. "He’s trying to come back to life all the way. I don’t know if it worked or not."
"V-V-You-Know-Who? Here?" Cedric stared back the way Harry had come, appalled. "I thought he was dead!"
"I wish." If it was only his head or only his leg, Harry thought, he could stand it. Or even if they hurt in the same rhythm, but his leg throbbed to his heartbeat and his head was just getting steadily worse. "No, he’s... he’s..."
"Harry!"
xXxXx
Ron and Meghan spun to face Ginny, Hermione and Draco jumped up. "What?" "What is it?" "What can we do?"
"Join up. The way we did with the Longbottoms." Ginny leapt down a bench and sat, and the others closed in around her. "Harry will need magic, and we have magic. We can send it to him!"
Hermione held out her hands eagerly, and Draco and Ron each clasped one. Ginny took Ron’s other hand, and Meghan nipped in between Ginny and Draco. "There’s only five of us," the little girl pointed out.
"Five will have to be enough," said Hermione, dropping into her alpha female voice. "In the name of the Pride, I convene this gathering. Pride together."
"Pride forever," the others answered.
"We have power," Hermione said quietly. "We know we have power. We combine that power now, all of us together, and send it to our alpha, who is fighting for his life far away. So we speak, so we intend."
"And so let it be done," the Pride murmured.
Ginny sank into herself and listened for the nearest heartbeat, Ron’s. Carefully, she slowed hers, then speeded it up again until they matched. Hermione and Draco were already together and reaching for Meghan.
Hang on, Harry, Ginny willed. Hang on. We’re coming.
xXxXx
Cedric’s face swam out of focus as Harry’s eyelids drooped. From far away, he recognized this as a bad thing, knew he should try to get up and keep going, but it felt so good to lie still, to smell nothing but clean grass in the night, to listen to his heart beating...
Or was it his heartbeat he could hear? Harry concentrated.
Yes, that’s me. My heart. His hand kept time with it on the ground. But what’s that other beat? Where is it coming from?
Could he be hearing Cedric’s heart? No, Cedric wasn’t close enough. And whatever it was, it was getting closer, close enough to smell. Harry sniffed. Flowers and spices, parchment and pine —
A smile spread across Harry’s lips. He knew what this was.
We have to match up. A little slower, a little longer between beats, a little more...
His tiredness vanished as the power of the linked Pride poured into him. He sent an acknowledgement of the link towards his friends, and opened his eyes to see Cedric hovering anxiously above him. "I’m all right now," he said, sitting up. "But we have to get out of here."
As if reinforcing this, the power link wobbled. Harry swayed but stayed upright. What the hell?
xXxXx
Luna shrieked and dropped into a huddle. "Mummy," she sobbed, her hands covering her face. "Mummy, Mummy, no. No."
"Baby?" Gerald touched her tentatively. "Luna, love?"
Luna raised her face. "Daddy, I know now," she said, suddenly calm. "I know what happened to Mummy. I know why she died."
Gerald paled. "Tell me," he whispered.
"She saw him." Luna looked around at the three Pack-adults. "She saw Voldemort."
xXxXx
"Any ideas?" Cedric asked, helping Harry to go from sitting to crouching.
"Can you Apparate?"
"Yes, but I’ve never done Side-Along. I’d probably splinch us."
"Go yourself, then. Get help. I can hide for a little while."
Cedric shook his head. "I’m not leaving you here alone. Not with him."
As if to reinforce this decision, Wormtail screamed. Harry winced as his scar burned again, but cool violet power drifted through him and the pain receded. "We should hide," he said when he could speak. "He’ll be after us as soon as he’s done with Wormtail..."
xXxXx
"Can I let go?" Draco asked.
"I think so." Hermione released his hand, and they carefully separated. "Are we still linked?"
Ron nodded. "We’re good."
"Perfect." Draco ran up the stands. "Keep going," he called back. "I’ll get Luna in with us."
xXxXx
Karkaroff’s arm suddenly burned, and his teeth clenched harder. It had worked. The Dark Lord was risen again, and calling for his followers.
And only one woman stands between me and him, and the rewards he promised me.
"Do you want my wand?" he asked, trying to sound beaten and dispirited.
"Yes, I think so. Thumb and forefinger, and don’t make any sudden moves." The woman’s smile grew. "I don’t have to tell you which hand to use, do I?"
Karkaroff didn’t bother to reply to this. Instead, he worked his left hand carefully into his wand pocket and withdrew it as the woman had ordered, slowly, carefully, between thumb and forefinger.
And let it be your downfall, stupid bitch...
xXxXx
"Harry Potter," called a cool, mocking voice over Wormtail’s sobs. "Where are you, Harry?"
"And he’s done right now," Harry finished. "Help me?"
"Where to?"
"Anywhere away from him."
"Good idea."
Cedric helped Harry up, but Harry waved off more assistance. "I’ll be all right," he said, testing his leg. It would hold him, he could even run on it, but it was still weaker than the other. Don’t try to do everything, he thought towards the violet power. Just keep me moving.
Acknowledgement, and a new power slipped into the link, white and mildly shocking. Harry caught his breath a little.
"All right?" Cedric asked beside him.
"Fine. Let’s keep going."
xXxXx
Luna had returned to her half-trance state with Draco beside her, Aletha and Gerald holding them. Sirius had gone down to sit with Meghan, and the other Weasley brothers had joined the circle as well. Alice Longbottom brushed past Remus as he started back to the teachers’ section, her destination obviously the field, now smooth and green again, where Hagrid was helping Frank to his feet.
And this would be just great, if we weren’t all scared stiff...
Dumbledore’s silver head appeared at the top of the stairs in the teachers’ section. Remus waved, catching the Headmaster’s attention, and hurried to his side. "It’s Voldemort," he said shortly. "Luna’s seen him."
Dumbledore nodded. "Harry?"
"She’s looking now—" Remus gasped in pain. A crashing blow to the side of the head, and darkness —
"Danger!" he shouted aloud, knowing what must have happened. Karkaroff had conjured something, tricked her and knocked her out, but he wouldn’t stop there, he could easily kill or kidnap her now —
And I can’t do anything if I can’t see what I’m doing —
He was running flat-out down the stairs, towards the Forest, but even with four legs he’d never get there in time to save her —
No, that’s not quite right. There’s one thing I can manage without seeing.
Hating himself, hating what he was about to do, Remus surrounded Danger’s unconscious body with hungry flames and let them go.
xXxXx
Sirius held Meghan on his lap, feeling his daughter’s pulse beat under his fingers, schooling his own heart to that beat as she’d told him. "Are you sure this will work?" he asked doubtfully.
It worked with Fred and George, and Luna and her dad, so it should work with you, Meghan assured him. And it is. I can tell. I’m stronger now because I can pull from you. Harry needs me strong. He’s hurt in a couple of different places.
"And if I were him, I wouldn’t go to those places anymore," Sirius muttered. "All right, I believe you."
"Deliv’ry," said a large voice, and Hagrid loomed up behind the twins. "He insisted on comin’ over," the gamekeeper went on, sliding a limp bundle off his shoulder. "Wouldn’ take no fer an answer."
"Hey, Captain," said Ron as Neville landed on the bench beside him. "Nice work out there."
"Thanks." Neville’s voice was whispery, his eyes sunken — and were there white hairs at his temples? Sirius couldn’t be sure in the dim light. "Can I come in?"
"The more, the better," Hermione said.
"If you’re sure... I might pull power out instead of putting it in..."
"If you need it that badly, you can have it," said Ginny. "Here." She took his hand as Meghan blew him a kiss.
Sirius blinked. "Now that I felt," he said, then switched to silent speech with Meghan. That is Neville, isn’t it? That... solid feeling?
Yes, that’s him. And do you feel the prickly green? That’s Draco.
Oh, I see. Sirius spent a moment or two matching Pride member to magic, until he came to one that stumped him. Clear blue, silken soft, and smelling of rosemary and clean clothing...
Someone cleared their throat, and he looked around for the source.
Three rows up, his wife waved at him.
Sirius thumped a hand against his forehead melodramatically.
"So what are we going to do?" Ron asked out loud. "Even with all of us, Harry can’t beat You-Know — Voldemort — in a fair fight."
"So we’ll do what we always do," said Sirius. "Make the fight unfair." He caught Aletha’s eye again and waved her closer. All of you, come down here, he signed. Join up with us.
You have an idea? Aletha’s hands asked.
Oh yes.
xXxXx
Harry crouched behind a large monument, Cedric beside him. They had circled around until they were close to where they had come in. The Triwizard Cup lay a few gravestones away, and the cauldron with Wormtail huddled moaning beside it closer than that.
Harry breathed deeply, tasting the Pride-power within him, more complex and stronger than it had been a few moments before, making him stronger with it. Thank you, he sent over the power link.
As if in response, a burst of cream-colored magic washed over him, bringing with it a scent like salty meat. Harry frowned. Why did Hermione want him to think about bacon?
"I think he went the other way," Cedric whispered. "Maybe if we get back..."
"Or maybe not."
Harry’s breath froze in his throat. His pendants chilled again, to the point of pain. Voldemort’s unnatural smell overwhelmed him, though Cedric’s, acrid with fear, was just behind it.
"Turn around."
Both boys slowly did so. Harry’s heart hammered so fast he was afraid he’d lose the link, but the Pride seemed to have no trouble keeping up.
Red eyes regarded Harry and Cedric, set in a white, flat face with slit nostrils. "Two of you," said Lord Voldemort finally. "How unexpected."
Harry saw one of Voldemort’s long-fingered hands dip into his pocket. "No," he said aloud, his voice shaking. "Don’t."
"Don’t?" Voldemort withdrew his hand, empty. "Don’t what, Harry?"
"Don’t... do anything to Cedric. He’s not supposed to be here. It was a mistake. You meant this for me, didn’t you?"
"Clever Harry." Voldemort’s smile stretched his thin lips unpleasantly. "Yes, a mistake, but a fortunate one for you. Or it would have been, if you and... Cedric, is it? If you had not hesitated when he cut your bonds, if you had run immediately, before Wormtail lit the fire again and allowed my transformation to finish, before I arose and found you gone. But as it is, you have denied my hospitality, and I am very put out. And you have killed my dear Nagini... there is a reckoning to be paid for that, as well..."
"I did that," Harry said quickly. "I did all of it. I doused the fire, I got myself free, I killed your snake. Cedric didn’t do anything. Let him go."
"Why?" Voldemort’s hand dropped to his pocket again. "Why should I let Cedric go, Harry?"
"What do you want?" Harry countered. His scar throbbed, but violet magic kept it to a level he could live with. "Why did you want me here?"
"For your blood, of course." Voldemort caressed his face. "I have not forgotten what passed between us underneath Hogwarts three years ago. The pain, the pain I could not stand... your mother’s last gift to you... but now that blood runs in me, as well as in you, and that gift will protect both of us..."
"What else?" Harry pressed his hands against the marble of the monument behind him, feeling the Pride-power running through him. "Why else did you want me here?"
Voldemort’s eyes flashed. "For proof," he said coldly. "Proof that you are no match for me, Harry Potter. Proof that it was only luck, and your mother’s generous gift, that has spared your life these thirteen years." His smile returned, cold and burning all at once. "A duel. You, me, and our wands. Nothing and no one else to interfere..."
"Agreed."
Voldemort’s nonexistent eyebrows rose. "What?"
"What?" Cedric echoed in a whisper. "You’re mad."
"Agreed," Harry repeated. The Pride-link roiled in his mind, but he ignored it. "Let Cedric go, and I’ll duel with you."
"No!" Cedric hissed at him. "Harry, don’t do this!"
Voldemort peered at him, looking puzzled. "You agree to duel with me," he said slowly, "so long as I let Cedric go?"
"Yes," Harry said firmly.
"No!"
"Agreed," Voldemort said genially. "Off you go, Cedric. Run away like a good little lad. Harry and I have some business to take care of."
"I’m not leaving Harry here alone," Cedric said stiffly.
Voldemort inspected his fingernails. "What a pity. I’ll simply have to kill you where you stand, then."
"Go!" Harry mouthed frantically. "Go on!"
Cedric hesitated one second, then turned and ran. Past the cauldron, past Wormtail, past the Triwizard Cup...
Voldemort’s hand was in his pocket and out again faster than Harry’s eye could follow. "Avada Kedavra!"
xXxXx
Everyone in the circle cried out together as Harry’s disbelieving rage exploded through them, hands flying up to temples and foreheads. Sirius caught Meghan as she collapsed.
"Luna," he said roughly. "Now."
xXxXx
The pain in Harry’s scar was back full-force, blinding him. From a great distance, he heard Voldemort’s laughter. "Let him go," the Dark Lord repeated. "I let him go."
Harry’s eyes cleared just in time for him to see Voldemort bending over him. A long, white hand caught his chin and lifted it, forcing a sob of pain out of Harry as his scar gave a fresh throb.
"I never said how far I would let him go," Voldemort mocked, staring into Harry’s eyes. His own red slits widened. "But what’s this..."
An upheaval inside Harry’s head, and then the only magic feelings besides his own were the hot orange spicy-sweet that meant Ron and an inundation of slimy bilious green. "How marvelous," Voldemort purred, and the green slime purred with him. "You have a friend with you. I wonder how that happened."
Get out! Harry shouted at Ron. Don’t stay here!
Ron didn’t move. Voldemort laughed softly. "How well the alpha is obeyed by his Pride," he taunted. "And how well..." He stopped, turning away. "Who is there?" he demanded, looking around. "Who is looking at me? Where are you?"
A soft blue curtain drifted between Harry and his pain, and the burst of cream magic and salt meat smell reappeared, followed quickly by green-pine magic and cooked eggs.
What does it mean? Harry shut his eyes to think. Hermione. Draco. Breakfast. This morning...
Inch by inch, he dragged the memory from its hole. Draco had lost his notes on Portkeys, and Hermione had recited them back to him, when they were invented, who had done it, and what the spell was called that made them...
Harry opened his eyes. Voldemort turned in circles, peering around at the air. "I will find you, little girl," he said softly. "You ran from me once, but now you persist. Foolish of you."
A new magic surged into Harry’s mind, brown and firm and smelling of earth and sweat. Get him, it urged. Now.
"You taste rather like another invader I had the pleasure of entertaining in my Albanian home," Voldemort went on, still looking here and there in the empty air, as Harry slipped his hand into his pocket. "Shall I show you what happened to her? Or do you, perhaps, already know...?"
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, swinging his wand into line with Voldemort.
The Dark Lord fell like a defeated boggart. Harry was already running. Cedric, he had to get to Cedric, he couldn’t leave him here for the Death Eaters —
"Potter!" wheezed Wormtail’s voice as small snapping noises began behind Harry. "Get Potter!"
Harry fell to his knees beside Cedric and aimed his wand at the Triwizard Cup. "Accio!"
He had just time to see the first of the Death Eaters, cloaked and masked, start to point a wand at him before he caught the Cup by the handle.
Twelve golden necklaces lost their chill.
xXxXx
The augmented Pride-link fell apart, its members gasping for breath, holding onto each other, crying and laughing at the same time as they realized they’d done the impossible.
Luna caught her breath and looked out over the Quidditch pitch. "Harry’s going to be right there," she remarked, pointing at a spot near the entrance. "As soon as he gets back. And he’s almost here."
Sirius set Meghan down on the bench and stood up. He reeled for a second, but recovered in time to catch Aletha’s hand and pull her to her feet. "Let’s go meet him," he said.
xXxXx
Remus, holding Danger in his arms behind the Quidditch pitch, felt his pendants warm. He checked her pulse, then drew his wand. "Ennervate."
She roused slowly at first, then suddenly catapulted upright, nearly catching Remus on the chin. Karkaroff! His wand —
Expanded to a staff when he said a trigger word, Remus finished. I know.
You do? But —
Remus gestured. Danger turned to look.
Several yards away, the burned corpse of Igor Karkaroff lay staring sightlessly at the sky.
But — I didn’t —
No. Remus raised his head to meet his wife’s eyes. I did.
You?
I was too far away to see what I was doing, and I had one chance to stop him from hurting you. Remus gripped his head with both hands, then let it go. I never wanted to kill him. But it was the only way to be sure.
"I know." Danger turned away from the body and reached out her hand. "Thank you."
"For killing him?"
"No. For saving my life."
Remus lifted his hand and met hers halfway. You’re welcome. And thank you in return.
And you’re welcome in return. Danger let Remus help her to her feet, and support her once she was there. Let’s go see Harry.
xXxXx
Harry slammed into the ground, face first, arms outstretched. His left hand was curled around Cedric’s wrist, his right around the smooth handle of the Triwizard Cup. People were shouting and screaming around him; he couldn’t make out anything they were saying, and didn’t want to try. His leg still hurt terribly, and his left arm had begun to throb where Wormtail had cut him, but he could notice them because the pain in his scar had subsided to a dull burning sensation.
"Harry," breathed a voice beside him. "Harry... oh, God, Harry..."
"Don’t," said another voice, sharper, higher. "Let me check him first." A hand on his shoulder, cool, smooth skin against his, soft and soothing to all his pains, and a scent he knew.
"Letha," he whispered. "Voldemort. He’s back..."
"You’ll be all right now, Harry," the first voice said, and another hand touched the side of his face, this skin rougher, calloused. "You’re safe."
"No. No one’s safe." Harry caught at the hand, gripped it, knew it. "Padfoot, no, no one’s safe now..."
"Go ahead," Letha said, and took her hand away from his shoulder. Harry tried to protest, but Padfoot’s hands were already turning him over, pulling him upright. He let go of the cup, but clutched Cedric’s wrist more tightly than ever.
"Harry, you have to let go now," Letha coaxed. "You have to let him go."
"No!" Harry opened his eyes, winced against the light, but tried to explain anyway. "He wouldn’t leave me. I tried to make him go. But he wouldn’t leave me with Voldemort. Voldemort killed him. I couldn’t leave him."
"And you didn’t leave him, Harry," Padfoot said close to his ear. "You didn’t leave him. You brought him back. You’ve done all you can." A hand found the back of Harry’s neck and rested there. "You did well, Harry. Let him go now."
Harry uncurled his fingers from Cedric’s wrist and let his eyes fall shut. The noises around him blurred and stretched like water running down the drain. It almost felt like riding another Portkey, except he was holding onto Padfoot and Padfoot wouldn’t let him fall.
"I got him," he told his godfather sleepily. "Just like you said."
"I know you did." Padfoot’s arms tightened around him. "I know."
Author Notes:
Sorry, Cedric fans, but it had to happen... and I don’t think there are any Karkaroff fans, so I can skip that. They’re the first to die in the second war against Voldemort, but they certainly won’t be the last.
Yes, this story will be longer, chapter-wise, than "Living with Danger." Heck, it’s already almost twice as long in words, so why not go for the gold? And "Facing Danger" will probably be longer yet, since it has two full years and the final battle to cover.