5. Parry and Thrust

o o o

5.01

1030 FRIDAY OTTERY ST CATCHPOLE DEVON

“So you told me you fought in a war, but what was Jimmy like when he was our age?”

We were lounging against the same large oak at the Burrow, Ginny’s back leaning against my chest, so that I could run my fingers through her soft and beautifully colored hair — “red” was a wholly inadequate term for the multitudes of shades I saw there — and again the flowery scent took me to a place where things in the past were no longer very important.

“I’m not sure you would have liked me very much back then. I would drive fast and I would party with my friends, which was an extremely bad combination. That night was like that, a few drinks, have a little fun on the way home, but a tree apparently jumped in my way…”

“A tree? Jumped, you say?” she giggled.

“Well, I later tried to convince myself that’s what happened. I was in denial about my situation, I think, but I believe I also suffered enough head trauma that it caused some amnesia. Lots of my youth was no longer clear to me. However, it did inspire me to get more serious about life, and that’s when I started listening to my dad about joining the army when I got out of school. It was tough, but I became a better person for it. After I was injured I couldn’t fly anymore, so I got a medical discharge and went into youth counseling. I tried help a lot of these kids who were wild like I had been to see where they might end up.”

“So Jimmy had his own ‘saving people thing’ too?”

“I suppose he did,” I laughed. “I did enjoy reading the Harry Potter novels as they came out; as Jimmy I felt a sort of kinship with him. I lost my mom due to cancer when I was too small to remember her, and joining the army was like another world where I felt I finally belonged someplace, just like I did when I was Harry joining the magical world.”

Trying to stay under the radar of Dumbledore’s Order members, I couldn’t stay very long, yet we sat there all morning, luxuriating in each other’s presence. She was a balm for the nervousness trying to gnaw at me and I almost forgot about the task I had to perform the next evening. It couldn’t be avoided forever though.

“Have you decided which wand you will use?” she asked, once again running her hands through my hair as I lay my head in her lap, which was quickly becoming my favorite place to be, bar none.

“I think you, I, and Grindelwald are the only living beings who know about the Elder Wand, so the best place for it is to remain with Dumbledore and maybe no one else will ever figure that one out. According to the book, I use Malfoy’s wand against Tom when he has the Elder Wand, but Tom will be using Lucius’ wand tomorrow. Assuming it works the same way, that confrontation is very dramatic, and my wand almost beats him then and there without any help from me. It’s a proven winner, so I believe that’s how I’ll proceed. I have to make sure I defeat Lucius before I confront Tom, to give me the best advantage possible. I may win that wand’s allegiance as well.”

“Stacking the deck, are you, Mr. Potter?”

“Of course! I’d be stupid not to.”

o o o

5.02

1900 SATURDAY WILTSHIRE

“Hello, again, Draco,” I purred as Dobby invisibly transported me for the second time directly into his suite at Malfoy Manor.

“Will you stop doing that?” he said irritably after jumping in the air a foot, maybe two. Irritating the ponce is always fun. “And how are you doing that?”

“Ah, but that information is strictly need-to-know, and you don’t need to know. I do thank you for the courtesy of allowing me to enter your lovely home this way. As soon as my job here is finished, we go our separate ways and you get on with your personal life. As agreed, I will do what I can to keep you and your mum out of Azkaban. No promises on Daddy Dearest. He’s hurt too many people, especially those close to me.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “I still think you’re totally insane, and mum thinks so too. But she wanted me to tell you that your gesture is appreciated regardless.”

I nodded in return.

“So go attempt whatever it is you think you can do, and then get the hell out of my house.”

“Such confidence is reassuring, Draco, and I plan on doing exactly what you propose. Goodbye, old bean.”

I bowed myself out of the door and into a well-decorated hallway lined in portraits. It amazes me how some people live. I knew from Draco’s intelligence that only the Malfoys and their prisoner in the basement would be here at the manor after the attack team left for Surrey, where they would be waiting to descend upon the unsuspecting Order members and recruits who would be trying to protect me. I felt I was doing better at their job by taking care of the problem on this end.

First order of business: Nagini. Tom’s large snake also held one of Tom’s soul fragments and therefore had to be eliminated. She was still here in the mansion, for Tom would not send her to Godric’s Hollow with whatever horrors he would inflict on Bathilda Bagshot until after I escape from Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I slipped on the invisibility cloak, asked Dobby for the stealth charms, and instantly felt the wash of magic that would give me complete masking of sound, heat and odor.

According to Dobby’s scrying model, Tom’s pet familiar preferred a room near the kitchen when his master was away, so I made my way to that location — down another hall, then quietly down a wide staircase into the entry hall. I passed Lucius’ large drawing room — damn, that’s a fancy chandelier, shame I don’t get to see it busted this time — waving at him by the fireplace as I passed, not that he could see me, of course. I’ll be back for you shortly, I thought to myself.

Luck was with me as approached the target room, for the door was open, but it was dark inside. I slowly pulled the goblin-crafted Sword of Gryffindor from its sheath and stepped forward.

The floor creaked.

And in that moment, the glint off a pair of deadly fangs was flying through the air, almost directly at my mid-section. I barely had time to raise the sword to block Nagini’s attack and knock her head to the side, nicking it in the process. At this point, the damage was done and Nagini would die, but not immediately. She was angry now, and she could care less about Tom’s order not to kill me, since she still hadn’t actually seen me to know my identity.

I stepped back as she coiled quickly and struck again, somehow sensing where I was.

This time I was ready, though, and I put my best Neville move on her, slicing upward with all I had as she lunged, and her head went tumbling over my shoulder as the long body slapped messily onto the floor.

After only three seconds of pure terror and adrenaline, I was already shaking. I took several long, deep draws of air as I surveyed the creature at my feet. Dark, deadly, and beautiful — and another victim of Tom’s evil on this Earth. I cursed him under my breath.

With renewed vigor, I strode back the way I came, slipping undetected into the drawing room, right beside the senior ponce himself.

Throwing off the invisibility cloak with a flourish, I whipped the sword around to rest just under his chin. He threw himself to the back of his chair as Nagini’s fresh blood dripped onto his expensive silk robes.

“Potter!” he hissed, once he tore his eyes my way from the bloody blade at his neck.

“Yes, Lucius, so good to see you once more. As you can see, I’ve already killed two snakes with this particular blade, would you care to make it three?”

“You have made a grave mistake coming here,” he growled. “The Dark Lord will be here before —”

“Ah, but that’s exactly what I want, Lucy! Yes, I’ve some business with old Tom, you see, so you just go ahead and call him. Maybe he’ll reward you by not cursing you tonight, wouldn’t that be nice?”

Malfoy scowled, confused. “You actually desire me to call him?”

“That’s right, go ahead. Easy and slow there — my sword hand is a little twitchy tonight. And did I mention one of those snakes was the basilisk that you helped loose in Hogwarts?” I lowered my voice and added a hard edge. “Its venom makes this blade even more deadly. Just give me a reason, Lucy, and I will end you.”

His eyes widened, and I detected a twitch in his left cheek. “You don’t have it in you, boy.”

“You’d be surprised, Lucy. I’m not the same guy who felt sorry for ripping open Draco’s chest a few weeks ago. Call your boss, and be quick about it.”

He still appeared unsure.

“Look at this way — think what he’ll do to you if he finds out I was here and you didn’t call him.”

Apparently that got him riled — or scared — enough to grudgingly press his long manicured finger to the fancy snake tattoo on his left arm.

“It is done,” he said. “Prepare to be destroyed.”

“Stupefy,” I cast, before he could make any other stupid cliched remark. He instead slumped sideways in the chair. “Accio wand,” I tried with no response. Then I remembered, Lucius was so out of favor that Tom couldn’t be bothered to help him replace his wand, even though they had Britain’s premier wand crafter just below us.

I switched the sword to my off hand and readied my holly and phoenix feather wand. It shouldn’t be a long wait.

“Ready, Dobby? I want the full set of enchantments as soon as Tom arrives.”

“Dobby is ready, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby knows Harry Potter will win!”

“I hope you’re right, Dobby,” I muttered, “I hope you’re right.”

I strolled over to the fireplace and tried to adopt a cool, confidant stance to throw him off guard — something that might work in Hollywood, but probably has no effect whatsoever on demented real-world dark wizards. At least I could focus on something for the moment that didn’t involve killing another being.

I was still debating how to hold the sword when a crack rang out in the hall and the infamous target of Trelawney’s prophecy of 1980 strolled into the drawing room.

He took in the sight of me standing beyond the crumpled form of Lucius and shook his head in disgust.

“Harry Potter,” he hissed, “here in the flesh. How very odd that my Death Eaters are gathered even now to bring you to me.”

“Hello, Tom. You should have said something — I could have saved you the trouble.”

I felt a tingle wash through my entire body as Dobby raised enchantments for privacy, anti-apparition, anti-portkey and other security measures.

He looked quickly around, waving his wand this way and that. “Elf magic? You have us both trapped here together, boy. Your apparent wish to die without an audience is about to be granted.”

“Ah, but I wouldn’t be too hasty on that assumption, Tom. I’ve always heard that you were a pretty smart guy, but there’s a lot that’s happened, and many things you simply don’t understand.”

He chuckled in a rasping sort of way. “You seem very assured of yourself. What can you possibly know that will make any difference to me?”

“Here’s one: ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…’

“So,” I continued, “if Snape had heard the entire thing and relayed it to you, would you still have attacked me? After all, your actions set the prophecy in motion.”

“Whether that is true or not is no longer relevant, Potter, for I have taken steps to insure —”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve done all this really dark magic to prevent your demise, Mr. Flight-from-Death. The problem is, Tom, that you left quite a few of your trinkets lying around in places where they could be found. Lucy here, for example, gave your little diary to a first year Hogwarts student. Funny how Dumbledore had always wondered exactly what you’d done, but that was the key to your undoing.”

“Dumbledore is dead!”

“Yes, your curse on the ring was a nasty one, but Dumbledore and the one you thought was yours colluded to bring about his death as he wanted. You, on the other hand, feared death so much, but you had no respect for life either. You took the greatest gift you had been given, your very soul, and chopped it up like mundane potion ingredients. Since you cared so little for life, what little you have left is about to be taken away, unless you can demonstrate that you still have a shred of humanity left inside you.”

“You talk nonsense, insolent boy,” he seethed, red eyes slitted malevolently. “Despite these conspiracy theories, you cannot possibly have discovered them all. Until then, I cannot die!”

He was very sure of himself for someone who had not put any alarms on his hiding places.

“The diary, the diadem at Hogwarts, the ring in your family’s shack, the locket in the cave, the cup in Lestranges’ vault, and your pet snake just down the hall — all eliminated.” I held up the sword. “At least for Nagini, I made it quick.”

“You dare,” he hissed, those weird nostril slits of his flaring, and I knew he was losing it. He flashed his wand up at me and the moment had arrived.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus !”

My wand flashed back at his, and just like they were supposed to, our spells collided with a tremendous bang between us. We must have been further apart during the confrontation in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, because I almost didn’t catch Lucius’ wand when it came flying back at me. Tom was of course hit by his own rebounding curse and tumbled backwards to the floor.

I sighed in relief, trying to calm my racing heart. I had done it.

“Damn,” I muttered, “I didn’t get to ask him to try some remorse.” It was understood that the redemption offer had to be made, even if he would almost certainly reject it.

“Accio wands,” I intoned, and I nabbed his original yew and phoenix feather wand out of the air — the brother wand to mine, and a potential source of fascination to anyone wanting to follow in his footsteps. I tossed it onto the floor and brought the Sword of Gryffindor down, slicing Tom’s wand neatly in two.

I picked up the two halves, wondering how to dispose of them, and my eyes drifted to the body of His Evilness, almost as pale as the fur of the rug upon which he was sprawled. His eyes were thankfully closed, but those odd nose-less nostrils were staring up at me, just begging to be useful for something. I snorted and then laughed to myself as I jammed Tommy’s wand pieces where they would not easily be missed.

I spotted a writing desk along one side of the room, grabbed some parchment and a quill and began to make a little sign. I finished and held it up to dry, admiring my handiwork.

“Dobby!” I called out.

The little house-elf appeared, beside himself with excitement, jumping and clapping his hands. “The great Harry Potter has killed the bad wizard! This is the greatest day of all days! Harry Potter is the bestest wizard in all the world!”

“Dobby!” I said through my laughter. “I know you’re happy but can you keep this a secret? I’d rather no one know about this, not just yet anyway.”

“Oh, yes, Dobby can keep Harry Potter’s secrets, but this is bestest day ever!”

“OK, sure, Dobby. Do you think this sign will look good on Tom’s chest?”

“A sign made by Harry Potter? ‘My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, you used to call me You-Know-Who, but now I’m You-Know-What. Dead.’ Dobby thinks this is the best sign ever!” He trotted it over to the body and placed it front and center torso with some kind of sticking charm. I expected several in the Ministry were going to have heart attacks when they saw it.

“That looks great, Dobby. You know where to take him, right?”

“Dobby does. Dobby won’t be seen when he leaves bad wizard’s body behind.”

I nodded, and he popped away with said bad wizard in tow. The fun was about to start.

I was so wrapped up in my success, imagining the chaos that was about to descend on wizarding Britain that I lost my sense of situational awareness, forgetting that I was still inside enemy territory and therefore, still in harm’s way.

A nasty-looking curse zipped by my ear and I dove sideways, bringing my wand around to form a shield. There, looking even more ragged than the last time I saw him, stood my parents’ betrayer, Peter Pettigrew.

“Wormtail!” I cried. He must have been hiding as a rat somewhere nearby. “Your master is gone, killing me serves no purpose, except possibly to make your escape. You’re still a coward, aren’t you?”

He said nothing, but growled another curse that I successfully deflected.

“This is how you repay me for saving your arse, Wormtail? Remember, you owe me!”

I knew what was going to happen, but Pettigrew was startled by his silver hand — gift of his erstwhile master — suddenly acting of its own accord, reaching for his other hand, trying to snatch away his own wand. I took advantage of the distraction.

“Stupefy!” I yelled, and he flew back into hall, crashing into the opposite wall before collapsing in a heap. I trotted over to where he lay and snatched his wand, but the silver hand had not succumbed to the stunning spell and was trying to wrench his good arm from its socket. Thinking he wasn’t going to need it where he was going, I decided to free the traitor of his own traitorous body part, although I was going to miss the elegant irony of it.

Still holding Wormtail’s wand, I cast the cutting spell “Diffindo,” and I separated him from his silver appendage, then bound the stump with conjured bandages. “Incarcerous,” and ropes suddenly cocooned him. I kicked the now stilled silver arm into fire and sat once again at the little writing desk, thinking about justice for Cedric Diggory, a dozen Muggles and possibly others.

My new sign read, “My name is Peter Pettigrew; I am a RAT — Recreant Animagus Traitor — and a Murderer, NOT Murdered, so I’m returning my Order of Merlin.”

I was still laughing when Dobby returned. “Dobby, just in time. Can you put a spell on Mr. Pettigrew here so he can’t change into his animagus form? Also, stick this sign and his wand on him as well.”

After Dobby happily prepared Wormtail for shipment, I sent them off to the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement so the rat would be found alongside his former boss. The Daily Prophet would be an interesting read tomorrow.

One task was yet undone. I found the dark corridor that led to the cellar steps. Once at the door, I lit Lucius’ wand with one hand, a shield in place with my wand in the other hand. I kicked open the heavy door and rolled to the side, searching the room for possible threats, but there was only one occupant, a bedraggled figure slumped against the far wall. I carefully made my way across the dirty floor and knelt beside him.

“Mr. Ollivander, can you hear me?”

His eyes blinked in the wandlight. “Yes…” he rasped weakly. “Who… are you?”

“No one important, but don’t you worry. We’re going to get you to St. Mungo’s, OK?”

o o o

5.03

2015 SATURDAY LITTLE WHINGING SURREY

A loud crack heralded Dobby and I returning to my little bedroom. “Dobby, your help was invaluable tonight. I couldn’t have managed it without you.”

“Dobby is too happy to help the great Harry Potter!”

“I know you are, buddy. You are free to go right now, but I will probably need you again in an hour or two, alright?”

He nodded with a wide grin and disappeared.

I opened my bedroom door and descended the stairs.

“Boy!” came the familiar bellow of my uncle. “Is that you?”

I found them, my loving relatives, in the living room, where they seemed to be anxiously awaiting my arrival — undoubtedly a first.

“Well? Did it work?” he pressed. “Can we stay, or is your lot still making us leave the house?”

I seriously considered messing with their heads a little, but it might backfire on me. “Yes, uncle, I was successful, and no, I didn’t die.”

There were various reactions to this — my uncle visibly relaxed, Dudley nearly knocked me over trying to give me a high five, and my aunt, mum’s only sister, looked quite pale with the sudden realization that dying tonight was indeed a possibility.

“Well, I don’t want to bother you, so I’ll wait in the kitchen for the first of our guests to arrive.”

“And tell them to leave us alone, right?”

“Yes, uncle, that’s the general idea. I won’t be taking everything when I leave so the protective charm should last until my birthday.”

He nodded, reaching for the television remote. Wonders never cease — the tellie had been off the entire time, almost as if they cared.

Ten minutes or so passed before I was able to answer the doorbell and confront Dedalus Diggle doffing his silly mauve hat and Emmeline Vance, who just rolled her eyes at him.

“Sorry you came all this way, folks, but there’s been a change in plans. We’re not leaving tonight.”

“Oh?” Dedalus said, “I heard there was a change in plans, but it was not that.”

“Well, you may as well come in for the explanation, so I only have to do this once.”

They were glad to join me in the kitchen for tea and small talk until a short time after sunset when a thunderous roar was heard in the backyard.

My uncle’s head poked through the kitchen doorway. “Boy!” he stage whispered, “who is that outside? Are they your lot? I thought they were supposed to be stealthy!”

Funnily, I had been thinking the same thing.

“Get out there and deal with them — and make sure they stay out of the flowerbeds!”

Flowerbeds that I had planted and tended — that would be one of his primary concerns — and with that parting thought, he led Dudley and my aunt hurriedly upstairs to hide from the freak invasion.

I turned to Dedalus and Emmaline. “Let’s go chat with my escort party, shall we?”

A number of figures shimmered into existence in the back garden, not like any sort of magical transportation that I had yet experienced, and I stepped through the door and was greeted with a bushy-headed hug, several Weasley back-slaps from Ron and the twins, and one from Hagrid that nearly knocked me over. Tonks flashed her wedding ring at me, and I congratulated her and Remus. Fleur was as beautiful as ever, holding hands with her fiance Bill; Mr. Weasley and Kingsley smiled their greetings, but Mundungus seemed to avoid looking me in the eye, probably because I disapproved of him stealing my stuff. Too bad.

“It’s great to see you guys again, but you shouldn’t have come.”

“Is that so, Potter?” came a growling voice as Mad-Eye Moody stepped into the light surrounding the back door. “This would be better discussed inside.”

We all shuffled into the living room as Moody scowled at Dedalus and Emmaline for not following the plan, his magical eye roaming the entire house, then he faced me with a menacing glint in his one normal eye. “Your friends have been hinting at some very strange things, but first, I need to verify who you really are.”

“Sure,” I replied, “ask me anything.”

“At the last party at headquarters, who was it for, and what did I show you?”

“That was for Ron and Hermione making prefects,” I said brightly; if the old auror was going to try to irritate me, he was going to have to try harder. “And you showed me a photo album of the original Order of the Phoenix, featuring lots of dead folks, including my parents standing all buddy-buddy with the one who would sell them out.” I grinned as I thought where that same traitor would be headed tomorrow.

He looked at me curiously, trying to figure me out. “What did you mean, we ‘shouldn’t have come?’”

“What I mean is that your mission here tonight has been compromised. Snape knows we’re leaving tonight and there’s a few dozen Death Eaters up there right now, circling for the chance to bag the Boy-Who-Lived for their master.”

“But Dumbledore vouched for Snape!” Moody said among the cries of indignation.

“Yes, it was Dumbledore’s portrait who gave him the time and date, to maintain his position in Tom’s inner circle.”

That went over like a lead balloon.

“Snape does actually work for us,” I continued. “It’s true, and he will try to minimize collateral damage without giving himself away, but he’s only one guy. If whatever scheme you had planned to get me out of here involves air travel, they will attack us as soon we get beyond whatever enchantment protects this house. They won’t be trying to kill me, but none of the rest of you have that luxury. It will be bloody and probably deadly up there tonight, make no mistake. However, I don’t need to leave tonight, so the protections will still hold, and you guys can make your way out by another means.”

“You don’t know what the Ministry has done, Potter —”

“In order to ‘protect’ me?” I retorted. “I know enough.”

“But they have blocked all your other avenues of escape!”

“No, not all of them. I’ll leave the same way I’ve been getting around all week, to Hogwarts, the Burrow, Diagon Alley…”

“And just how have you managed that?”

I leaned toward him with a conspiratorial smirk and whispered, “House-elf.”

He gaped at me at me for several seconds, then lowered his head, muttering, “Damn you, Albus.” He shook his head and looked back up. “Alright, Potter, so you’ve got this all figured out, have you? Just what do you propose we do from here?”

I glanced to Kingsley and Tonks. “I suggest calling every auror you can trust to come and get the drop on them. Send up a decoy to get them to show themselves and take them from behind.”

“Hmm, that’s what you would do, eh?”

“If I could, but hey, I’m still underage, so…”

At that moment an owl flew in the still open door with an envelope in its beak, dropping it even as I held out my hand. Once divested of its burden, it wasted no time in flying back out into the growing darkness.

“That’s a Ministry owl!”

I opened the official-looking parchment and read the note from dear old Mafalda Hopkirk, similar to a couple of others I had received here in years past. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

Moody snatched it out of my hand and studied it. “Potter, why the hell were you performing spells at Malfoy Manor? What have you done?”

o