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The Hallows Questers | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Deathly Hallows Challenge (2009-1) Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 26 Summary: ** Winner of Best Adventure in The Deathly Hallows Challenge ** The Royal Academy of Magic's sudden interest in the Deathly Hallows and the Ministry's completion of the investigation into the Battle of Hogwarts sparks off yet another mysterious adventure that once more plunges Harry into conspiracies, Dark Wizards and the Ministry of Magic's many secrets. Entry for Deathly Hallows Challenge 2009. Hitcount: Story Total: 12589; Chapter Total: 2591 |
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42 Sheltie Way, London. Pauline flourished her wand and spun round, jabbing it in Harry’s direction. At the same time, Croaker waved his wand once. Twin jets of sparks reached out towards him. “Protego!” he gasped, and the transparent hemisphere of the Shield Charm expanded in front of him just in time to receive the brunt of both spells. The powerful spells broke through and Harry grunted as what felt like a punch to the gut sent him flying backwards to crash down a few yards behind. The Elder Wand slipped from numb fingers to soar in the air. Pauline darted forwards, hand outstretched to grab it. “No you don’t!” screamed Ginny, stepping forward; from her wand and four others - Hermione’s, Kingsley’s, Hestia Jones’ and Sturgis Podmore’s - streaked a hail of spells directed at her. She dodged or deflected them with ease, sending them crashing into the exhibition hall-like walls of the house’s enlarged living room. Then a silver spell broke through her defences, sending her spinning against the prostrate body of a large troll. The Elder Wand dropped at Fenton’s feet. “Ha!” he crowed, as he bent down to pick it up and fired off another spell that broke past Sturgis’s defences and struck his wand arm. Sturgis dropped his wand with a gasp and gripped his paralysed fingers. “Impedimenta!” yelled Hermione. Fenton slashed downwards with his wand; the jinx rebounded off his Shield Charm and hit the ceiling. He began to edge towards Croaker and the door, blocking spells each step of the way. Stone struck so fast Ron hardly had time to think of a spell. Luckily, the magenta spell that streaked inches past his shoulder did nothing but raise the hair on his head as it passed, crackling with evil and malice. Ron leapt off the doorstep of the house and rolled over, sending three Stunners Stone’s way. The wizard blocked two and dodged one, then with a wave of his wand sent a rope of purple fire hurtling at Ron, who raised up a Shield Charm and leapt aside. He sent a hex towards Stone that almost connected, but the man ducked the spell. “Give… me… the… Resurrection… Stone!” shouted Stone, punctuating each of his words with a curse. Ron blocked the first two, dodged the third but then had barely put up his defences before the fourth burst through his half-formed Shield Charm and struck him square in the chest. He fell backwards, landing with a thud on the pavement but with his wand still in hand. As he lay there, another spell zipped through the air from the tip of Stone’s wand and struck the pavement beside Ron’s head. “Stupefy!” shouted Hestia and Ginny together. Fenton blocked one but not the other; Ginny’s Stunner slipped past his Shield Charm and struck him a glancing blow in the left shoulder. It was enough to send the Elder Wand flying upwards once more. Croaker lunged for the wand with surprising agility for a man his age. Snatching it out of the air, he flourished it triumphantly. “Stand aside!” he shouted. “You don’t know half the powers we Unspeakables can wield!” Hestia, Kingsley, Hermione and Ginny each sent a number of spells at him, but the Unspeakable blocked them with ease. Croaker edged closer to the door, when suddenly his eyes crossed and he went down, tripping over his own feet as he went. His arms snapped to his sides in the characteristic air of someone who had just been Petrified. The Elder Wand flew into the air once more, and this time remained suspended in mid-air. Then a familiar face and shoulders appeared as Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, gripping the Elder Wand in his left hand. “I believe this is mine,” he said. “You believe wrong!” shouted Pauline, who had gotten up and was now leaning against a troll’s struggling body. She waved her wand; with some difficulty Harry blocked the spell and returned fire with a Stunner Pauline evaded. The witch blocked the Stunner but was then forced to dodge a number of spells fired by Hestia and Kingsley. She jabbed her wand at Kingsley. A fiery spell streaked at the Auror. Kingsley threw up a shield with lightning quick reflexes, containing the spell for a moment; but then the powerful spell burst through and struck him. With a cry of pain Kingsley sank to the ground. Hestia and Hermione darted to Pauline’s left and right and kept up a steady stream of Stunners; Hestia even tore up chunks of floor and hurled them at Pauline but the witch was truly adept at dueling and evaded or deflected each spell or chunk of tile with ease. Ginny ran over to Harry. “Harry, are you alright?” “Ginny, listen carefully!” said Harry quickly. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and stuffed it into Ginny’s hands. “This is getting really dangerous. Get Clarke and get out of there. Ron’s outside. Get to him and then Apparate back to Headquarters.” Seeing she was about to protest, he said “No arguments please! And Ginny,” he said, pausing for a moment, “I love you.” Ginny nodded and turned away. Harry dove to the floor as a silver spell streaked overhead. The floor was torn up and strewn with rouble, so Harry had to be doubly sure of his footing; yet he kept sending Stunner after Stunner in Pauline’s direction and dodging the spells she sent his way. “Give it up, Pauline!” he shouted over the din. “We suspected you from the start! You’re never getting the Elder Wand!” “That’s what you think!” screamed Pauline. She spun on one leg, graceful as a ballet dancer; her wand inscribing intricate patterns in the air and her lips muttering words of power and magic. “Harry!” shouted Sturgis Podmore, “get down!” Too late, thought Harry, as Pauline ended the spell with a fluid swipe of her wand diagonally across her body. A rope formed from flames rippled into existence from the edge of her wand, and as she lashed it at him like a whip Harry reacted instinctively. “Sectumsempra!” shouted Harry. “Stupefy!” Pauline gasped even as she raised her defences; a gash appeared in her right arm, deep and ragged. She stared down at the wound in bewilderment, and never saw the Stunner that shattered her Shield Charm and struck her in the chest. She fell backwards, her wand slipping from her fingers to drop with a clatter to the floor. They waited long seconds as she lay there. Finally, Harry straightened, peering over the rubble on the floor. Pauline’s body lay on the ground, Stunned. Breathing heavily, Harry wiped his forehead and pocketed his wands, both his and the Elder Wand. His eyes met Hermione’s, which gazed back at him wearily. She made an attempt at a half-smile. Harry crossed over to where Pauline lay, and picked up her wand. From behind him, he heard a calm, cold voice… a voice with death in it. “Mr. Potter, give me the Elder Wand.” “Red ucto!” yelled Ron. “Reducto!” Two of the three rubbish bins soaring towards him shattered and burst, sending potato peelings and soiled baby diapers flying everywhere. Ron attempted to dodge the third bin, but it struck him in the chest. He gasped, dropping to the ground. Stone charged at him, spells firing from the tip of his wand. Ron leapt aside, dodging most of the spells and using his wand to deflect those that came too close or too fast for him to evade. He sent back a few jinxes of his own, but Stone was far too skilful for him to hit. Then Stone stooped by the fallen rubbish bin, and picked up something from the ground there. At the same time, Ron realised that a familiar weight that had been in his pocket was suddenly no longer there. Too late Ron realised he had dropped the Resurrection Stone. Too late Ron realised that Stone had seen him drop it. Too late Ron realised that Harry had been right; the Stone was far too dangerous to be in someone else’s employ. All this Ron understood when Stone held up the Resurrection Stone in front of him and grinned. As he began backing away, seeking to put more space between him and Stone and trying to think of a strategy to defeat his superior opponent, Stone smiled. “You’re in luck, boy,” he said. “Why’s that?” replied Ron. “Because you are going to be the first to see why the Knights of Walpurgis want the Deathly Hallows,” grinned Stone. He brought his wand up, pointing it straight at Ron. Ron’s eyes focused right on the Resurrection Stone, held up in Stone’s left hand. Slowly, Stone tapped it with his wand, then turned it over in his hand. Once… Twice… “No!” screamed Ron. Three times… “MALEFICUS PARIO!” shouted Stone. Nothing happened. Ron kept his wand up and pointed at Stone, but his eyes searched his surroundings for signs of the spell’s effects, whatever the spell was, but found nothing. A heavy dread filled his heart, however, and he felt a sort of presence in the cool night air; it was as if an army of Dementors had surrounded them. Then, from out of the shadows to his right pounced a dark, smoky shape. Ron swore and leapt aside, raising his wand and shouting “Expecto Patronum!” The anti-Dementor spell did nothing to harm the shape, but from its light he could see the shape clearly. Ron swore again. The shape resembled one of the Hogwarts ghosts, but it was somewhat more corporeal and coloured smoky gray to black, with bright white eyes and no pupils. It appeared to resemble a werewolf, albeit a very thin and skeletal one. “Blimey,” whispered Ron. The werewolf sniffed, then barked once - a ghostly, there-but-not-really-there sound that made Ron’s hair stand on end. Then it charged. Ron leapt to the left, sending a Stunning spell at the werewolf. The spell passed right through it. “Finite Incantato!” cried Ron, but nothing happened. H arry turned around slowly, and his heart sank. From out of nowhere, Clarke and Ginny appeared, pulling off an Invisibility Cloak - Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had a wand in his hand, and it was pressed against Ginny’s neck. Ginny stared back at Harry with wide, horrified eyes, all colour drained from her white face. “Ginny!” exclaimed Harry. He raised his wand, but at a threatening gesture from Clarke, lowered it. “Give me the Elder Wand, Harry. It won’t mean anything to me to kill her, but she means everything to you,” said Clarke. “Who are you, Clarke?” asked Harry. “I thought… I thought you were being held hostage…” Clarke chuckled. “My dear boy, Pauline is my protégé. A very powerful protégé, as you saw, but not nearly skilful enough.” He sighed, looking past Harry to where Pauline still lay, unconscious. “You tricked me,” said Harry. “Yes, I did,” nodded Clarke. “You do have a bit of a saving people thing, Harry, it’s been well noted in the past, both by your friends and enemies. All I needed was to make a few absurd signals - plus that excellently pitiful performance in the washroom of that tea shop - and I had you hooked,” said Charles, smiling. “I was the bait in the trap, and you took it. That’s enough of that!” he snapped suddenly; Harry turned to his left and saw that Hermione had been trying to edge around to get a clear shot at him without hitting Ginny. Clarke made a sweeping motion with his wand and yelled, “Expelliarmus!” “Protego!” cried Hestia, Kingsley, Hermione and Harry; but the spell burst through their Shield Charms and plucked their wands out of their hands. “That’s better,” breathed Clarke. “Now, the Elder Wand, Harry. Take it carefully out of your pocket, and throw it here.” Harry reluctantly pulled it out and threw it over. Inside, he was raging. Clarke had been He had lost, Ginny was in danger! “Now, I have the Cloak, the Wand, and if I’m not mistaken, my compatriot Nick Stone will have retrieved the Stone by now. I bid you adieu,” said Clarke. Then he made a mistake. He turned his back confidently on them and began moving towards the door. In that instant, Harry whipped out his wand - his phoenix feather wand - and yelled “STUPEFY!” putting all his power and determination into the spell. The jet of red streaked across the room and struck Clarke in the small of the back. The wizard toppled and fell backwards. Before he hit the floor, Ginny had already wrenched herself free of his grasp. Harry and Hermione rushed over. “Ginny!” shouted Harry. Then she was in his arms, and he was hugging her tightly, feeling an immense upsurge of relief as he realised she was with him again, safe and sound. While Hestia leapt to Kingsley’s side, Hermione stooped over Clarke’s Stunned body, retrieving the Cloak, the Wand and Clarke’s wand too. Then she turned to Harry. “However did you do that?” she exclaimed. “Simple,” grinned Harry. “Clarke made a bad mistake. I was holding Pauline’s wand when he Disarmed us. My own wand was in my pocket, along with the Elder Wand. When he asked me to give him the Elder Wand, well, that’s what I did. I hoped that he would turn his back on me, thinking none of us had any wands, and then he did.” Ron darted to the right again as the werewolf attacked once more, but this time a clawed paw swiped over his left leg as he dove to the ground, drawing blood and a cry from his lips. Then the wolf was on him, hot and heavy and strong. Somehow, Ron found the strength and the wits to turn his wand end up, jab it into the wolf’s hide and yell “Levicorpus!” There was a bang and then the wolf was lifted off him by the spell, suspended in mid air and snapping ferociously with its oversized jaws. “You won’t escape so easily,” snarled Stone, who had been watching. “Maleficus Pario!” Two more animal-ghosts erupted from the shadows. Ron recognised one as a hippogriff. The other was a smallish dragon; the two animals closed in on him, the hippogriff’s hooves cantering with a ghostly echo as it charged him down. Ron directed his wand at the dragon. “Reducto!” he bellowed. The spell shot through the dragon, being only partially solid, but then it had definitely hurt the spectre; the dragon squealed faintly and fired a stream of black, smoky fire from its gaping mouth. Ron blocked most of it with a Shield Charm, but the hippogriff was singed. The hippogriff screamed, turning aside from its charge and slammed, kicking and clawing, into the dragon. Ron took this opportunity to fire another Reductor Curse; this one connected with the dragon high up on its shoulder. The dragon roared and tried to flee, bracing itself on all fours and coiling its powerful, muscular hind legs beneath it; then it launched itself in the opposite direction from Ron… …colliding directly into Stone. A thin scream and the wet ripping sound of claws slashing through meat, then the scream stopped. Ron averted his eyes from the sight, only to find the werewolf - freed from its curse - and the hippogriff nearly on top of him. “Bloody hell,” he swore, and prepared to sell his life dearly. Then, just as they were almost upon him, first the werewolf and then the hippogriff burst into clouds of black smoke before him. Ron stared at the sight, then whirled around. Standing next to Stone’s body was a young man. He was holding the Resurrection Stone. “Dennis Creevey?” exclaimed Ron. When Croaker had gone to Number 42, Sheltie Way, Dennis had followed him, just as he had been doing for the past one week. At first he had told himself he wanted to know just what Croaker was plotting with the Hallows for altruistic reasons, but when Dennis discovered the connection between Fenton Finch and Caractacus Croaker and didn’t reveal this to Potter, he knew he could not lie to himself any longer. He wanted the Hallows for himself, and wouldn’t mind seeing the others fight for it before swooping in himself to get it. Dennis had first heard of the Resurrection Stone from gossip. Some of the older Gryffindors - Neville and Ginny - had talked about Harry and the artifacts that he had run around trying to recover. Dennis had overheard them, and was particularly intrigued by Ginny’s words. Dennis went up to the Astronomy Tower, a favourite place for him recently to sit and brood alone about his brother Colin’s death. It was calm, quiet, serious and tranquil. The only problem was that others had also found the Tower platform a nice place to go to. “He came to me crying on the third day after the battle. He’d seen his family, Sirius and Professor Lupin again. They accompanied him into the forest, when he went to find Voldemort and sacrifice himself.” There was a hitch in Ginny’s words when she had said that. “How did that happen?” said Neville. “It was that Resurrection Stone. He used it to summon their shades or something like that. They talked to him, told him how proud they were of him.” Ginny sighed. “It broke his heart to have to say goodbye to them again.” “He’s been holding back his personal feelings for so long, fighting for the rest of us so we can live, being strong for us so we can go on,” said Neville wisely. “Now it’s all over and he can finally rest, but all the pressures and stress is catching up with him. Ginny,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “It’s up to you now to be strong for Harry. He’s relying on you.” “I will,” promised Ginny. She smiled. “You’re a good friend, Neville. He’ll need you too. And so will the rest of us.” And ever since then, Dennis had researched the Deathly Hallows, finding himself drawn towards the Resurrection Stone and eventually concocting a plan to steal it from Harry. But then he’d heard Harry had lost the Stone in the Forbidden Forest, and try as he might he had never been able to find it, despite numerous secret trips there. Then Croaker had come to his house. Dennis had followed Croaker here, Disillusioned himself and lain in wait. He’d nearly risen to help Ron when the strange man - Stone, was it? - had attacked him, and again when the man summoned spectral animals to attack Ron, but something in his heart had stopped him from doing so. Partially, he knew, it was guilt at not having told Harry sooner; it would have been hard to explain his presence here without giving his complicity away. But in the more honest and cold-blooded part of himself he knew that he wanted the Hallows for himself. When the dragon cannoned into Stone and tore him into half, the Resurrection Stone had slipped from his dying fingers and fell at Dennis’s feet. Hardly believing his eyes, Dennis reached out and picked up the Stone. He straightened, not realising that Ron’s sweeping Finite Incantato had removed his Disillusion Charm. So when Ron called out to him in surprise, he gave a surprised start. “What are you doing here?” said Ron incredulously. Then he saw the Stone in Dennis’s grasp. “Give me the Stone, Dennis,” he said, in a more serious tone. At the same moment, Harry, Ginny and the others burst out of the house looking thoroughly bedraggled, robes holed, soot-blackened and singed in places where spells had struck. Sturgis cradled his arm, which seemed to have lost all feeling, and Kingsley rubbed at his chest which still hurt from where a powerful spell had struck him. “Dennis?” said Harry. Dennis stared from Ron to Harry, and then back at Ron. Ron took a step forward, and then somehow Dennis’s own wand was in his hand and pointed at him. “Stay back!” he stammered. “I mean it!” “Dennis, don’t do this,” said Harry quietly. “The Stone’s not worth it.” “You don’t understand!” cried Dennis. “It’s definitely worth it! The Stone’s wortt it! Colin’s worth it!” Realisation dawned on Harry. He shook his head sadly. “Dennis, Colin won’t come back. He can’t. He’s gone over.” “The Resurrection Stone will bring him back!” said Dennis loudly. “The Resurrection Stone doesn’t really resurrect anybody, Dennis,” said Hermione. “The laws of magic and nature are immutable; no dead person can come back to life. It’s impossible.” “You summoned your parents!” said Dennis, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. “And Sirius Black! And Professor Lupin!” At the mention of his parents, Ginny squeezed his hand reassuringly, forestalling the daily ache inside him that he felt whenever he thought of them. He squeezed back. “They were spectres,” shouted Harry. “Mere shadows of their selves.” He took a step forward, then two. “I just want to see Colin again,” said Dennis brokenly, tears streaming from his eyes, “I just want to say goodbye.” “Dennis,” said Harry, approaching him, “I grew up, never knewing my parents. It used to tear me apart inside, knowing I could never speak with them, never go to them for guidance, never have them around watching over me as I grew up. Then when I met them just before going into the Forest, my parents told me something, when I saw them for the last time. They told me they had been watching me, that they would watch over me for the rest of my life, until I could rejoin them again. Colin is doing the same for you, I’m sure. You won’t need the Stone to talk to him. He’s watching you all the time, and listening.” He stepped in front of Dennis. “You need to live your own life, Dennis. Don’t dwell on the past. Don’t brood over Colin’s death. I’m very certain he wouldn’t want you to do that.” Harry heldout his hand. “Give me the Stone.” Dennis held it out, and Harry took it. Dennis looked away as his fingers unwillingly relinquished their grip on the Stone… his last hope of seeing Colin again. “Do you see now, the false promise the Stone gives? It doesn’t bring Colin back,” said Harry. Remembering something Dumbledore had once said, he added, “It is not good to dwell on the past and forget to live the present.” Dennis sagged against Harry and sobbed. “I never got to tell Colin he was the best brother I could have ever had…” EPILOGUE Kingsley, I have not been able to find either Pauline or Clarke, nor their real names. They seem to have simply vanished off the face of the earth. Currently, I’m pursuing my contacts in Cairo, but it is a very cold trail. My dear brother tells me they claim to have been Knights of Walpurgis. Perhaps an investigation in that direction would prove rather more fruitful? On a brighter note, I may have a wizard here who is willing to join the Order of the Phoenix. He’s a good chap and a former colleague of mind, although a bit antidisestablishmentarian and fond of a bit too much Firewhiskey. Keeps mum when he’s had a shot too much, though, so that’s okay. Knows the back alleys of Cairo like the back of his hand, and his contacts are innumerable; Mundungus will like him. Bill Weasley P.S. My Cairo contacts did give me some interesting information on some other persons of interest. Is either Croaker or Fenton giving you any trouble? Because if they are, the goblins here tell me they will not mind pulling strings amongst their London counterparts to freeze their Gringotts accounts… both the private and the secret ones. Bill, Yes, I’ve sent a crack team of Aurors to investigate that angle, headed up by none other than the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Your-Prospective-Bro ther-In-Law. You will be able to attend the wedding, right? It’s being held on the first of September. Come back home to good old England, then. Let your Egyptian wizard handle the rest. Yes, I think we’ll seriously consider inducting him into our ranks. Kingsley Kingsley, First of September, eh?The first day they met and the first day of term at Hogwarts, which means that future anniversaries will likely be celebrated a deux without the encumbrance of a pack of nosy kids. Not bad, I bet Harry thought that one up. I’m going to have to hex him for that. Returning now, waiting for Long Distance Portkey tickets. Bill Master, I accept full responsibility for not being able to retrieve either the Elder Wand or any of the other Hallows as well as wasting valuable time and resources. I submit myself to whatever punishment you see fit to impose on me. C Ma ster, By now C will have contacted you and once more grovelled and attempted to appease your anger by once more declaring his submission to whatever ‘punishment you see fit to impose’ on him. However, acting on the secret orders you gave me to observe him carefully, I can reliably inform you that he harbours designs on you and that not all his motivations for obtaining the Hallows stemmed from a desire to serve your bidding, Master. P P, I will act as I see fit. Consider yourself promoted to C’s post, effective immediately after he has been punished. Do not fail me in the undertaking of your responsibilities, unlike C. C, Re turn immediately. There are matters of pressing importance I must discuss with you in private. Borgin and Burkes, Knockturn Alley. The bell suspended above the door tinkled as the door swung open. Borgin looked up from the accounts books he was doctoring. His customers today consisted of a beautiful young witch in very businesslike robes and with a supremely professional air about her. Behind her stood a man who evidently wished to be circumspect regarding his identity; a white expressionless mask covered his face. Borgin sniffed, and smiled. He could smell the darkness emanating from both the man and the woman, and knew that here were real paying customers. “Good afternoon,” began the young lady, placing a wooden chest on the table. “I’d like to offer you this on behalf of my client.” Borgin assumed she meant the man standing behind her. Borgin flicked the clasps and pulled the lid of the box open. He regarded the contents with interest, mentally calculating the profits he would obtain simply by processing it and selling it to the brewers of illegal potions. “Extra powerful, genuine Traitor’s Skull,” said Pauline. “Male, freshly processed and guaranteed one hundred percent powerful warlock. ” Borgin nodded. “Name your fee.” She named it. “This will fetch you a fortune amongst the dealers of potions and witch’s brew,” she said not unreasonably, “and my fee is merely a very small percentage of it. Traitors’ Skulls are a rare commodity, and that of a powerful warlock even more so.” “Agreed,” said Borgin. “Cash, I suppose.” When he had paid and they had left, he stroked the white bone of the skull’s cranium. He muttered to himself, “Now just a dash of lemon for extra zest.” /(|) /__|__ |
| Reviews 26 |
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