A Promise Kept - CHapter 61 - Disturbing the Sick

Disturbing the Sick

He watched as the Dementors swarmed the entrance of St Mungo’s, held back by the protections of the hospital, but doing exactly as the Dark Lord intended.

The protections would not prevent the effects of the creatures from seeping into those within, would allow them to know what is was they faced if they were to resist his efforts to free the Death Eaters being kept here.

There were a few dozen, at least, and the Dark Lord wanted them back.

He needed them in his ranks, and he needed to show those that followed him that he could be relied upon when he was needed most. It simply would not do for them to be taken into custody, even if Yaxley could set them free at a whim.

Allowing the Dementors their fun for long enough, he levelled his wand towards the entrance of the hospital and unleashed a beam of red magic in a bid to overwhelm the protections.

The entire building began to tremble from the force, and further tendrils lashed out, tearing the brickwork away as though it was a minor inconvenience, until the Dark Lord found himself looking upon a destroyed waiting area, with only a few casualties to speak of.

Further in St Mungo’s was another door, and beyond them, around twenty aurors, gathered in ranks with their own wands drawn, seemingly ready to confront him.

Or not, so it appeared.

Even from such a distance, he could sense the reluctance, feel the fear creeping into each or them, and as he gestured for his followers to storm the building, Lord Voldemort remained behind to watch the chaos unfold.

(Break)

“Harry mentioned the griffins. That must be fascinating.”

Lily released a deep breath at the mention of the creatures that roamed the ranch.

“Only if they like you,” Sirius snorted. “They tolerate us well enough, but they think Harry is one of them. Harry found Aurelius injured when he was five. He was just a baby, and Harry nursed him back to health. He tried to set him free, and he left, but was back in less than a week with three others. There must be close to forty of them now, and they adore him.”

Sabine smiled at the thought of Harry mingling with such majestic creatures. Griffins were particularly fierce to most, but it seemed Harry had a knack for them.

“And what about the dragon?”

“That one was my mistake,” Sirius admitted. “I did a favour for a friend by taking Norbert off his hands. He was supposed to be another layer of protection to our home, and somehow, Harry made friends with him too.”

“That’s some bloody friend,” Emmeline muttered.

Sirius nodded his agreement.

“I never thought he would get so big, but he’s just like the griffins. Whenever Harry comes home, Norbert is there waiting for him.”

“The necklace,” Sabine whispered in realisation. “It’s one of Norbert’s teeth. Isn’t it?”

“He pulled it from his mouth and asked me to make it for him,” Lily explained.

Sabine shook her head.

She knew Harry, the kind of person he was, but little about him of a personal nature, not the finer details, at least. The more she heard, the more she was fascinated by him.

“Did you teach him to fly?”

Sirius chuckled amusedly.

“No, but I bought him his first training broom for his first birthday…”

“And he nearly killed the cat on the damned thing,” Lily reminded him. “No, Harry inherited his father’s talent on a broom. James was incredible.”

“If it weren’t for the war, and if he decided to, he could’ve played for England as a Chaser. Harry climbed on that training broom and he was off, like he was born on it.”

Sabine smiled.

“He’s amazing,” she murmured, ducking her head slightly as Harry’s mother looked at her curiously.

“What about you, Sabine. What interests do you have?”

“Horses mostly, but I love animals. I would’ve liked to have been a magical veterinarian.”

“Why can’t you?” Emmeline asked.

Sabine shrugged.

“I’ll be married soon, and my intended’s husband’s family wouldn’t like that. They think ladies shouldn’t work.”

“What a load of bollocks,” Sirius huffed. “My Great Aunt Dorea, Hary’s grandmother, was a Healer for many years. Only my Uncle Cygnus tried to talk down to her for it, and he only did it once. I thought Charlus was going to kill him.”

“Harry’s grandmother was a Healer?”

Sirius nodded.

“She was the best of my family, an incredible woman, but you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. She was as fierce as any of the Blacks if you pushed your luck with her, but you’d have to get through Charlus first. Wait, I might have some photos here somewhere. Kreacher?”

The elf appeared and offered the man a bow.

“Master called for Kreacher?”

“Do we have an photos of Charlus and Dorea?”

Kreacher frowned before nodding and vanishing with a gentle pop. He returned a moment later carrying a photo album, which he placed on the table.

With a bow, a he disappeared once more, and Sirius retrieved the album.

For several moments, he turned the pages, his eyes flickering with a myriad of emotions, and he even wiped a tear from one as he came to one. Handing it to Lily, she smiled brightly before turning it towards Sabine, who gasped.

“That’s Harry’s grandparents,” she whispered. “He looks just like him.”

Lily nodded.

“He does, and so did James,” she replied, removing a gold locket from around her neck.

Opening it, she stared at the photo within with a fondness Sabine could not put into words. Carefully, she handed it to her, and Sabine would swear it was a photo of Harry she was looking upon, were it not for the brown eyes instead of the green he shared with his mother.

“Wow, he really does look like him.”

Handing the locket back, she turned her attention back towards the album and shook her head.

“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

Sirius laughed as he nodded.

“All of us Blacks are blessed with being handsome and beautiful,” he declared. “Even Bellatrix, the mad cow.”

He stood suddenly and drew his wand as an ethereal creature appeared in front of him in the form of a small, stocky dog.

‘Voldemort is attacking St Mungo’s,’ it informed Sirius.

“Bloody hell, Harry is there,” Sirius declared, “and Tonks!”

The three of them began casting patronus charms to alert the others, and Sabine stood, only for Lily to shake her head.

“Harry did not go through what he did yesterday for you to risk your life,” she pointed out. “Stay here, and best not touch anything. We will be back as soon as we can.”

Sabine reluctantly nodded and retook her seat as they left the house, shuddering as she was left alone in a strange place, not knowing what would happen next.

It was a feeling she did not care for, but Harry’s mother had been right. It was not her place to interfere, not when Harry had risked his life to save hers less than a day prior.

(Break)

He ducked beneath a spell that was hurled towards him from someone wearing Healer robes, and brought the man down with a shredding curse, that tore his shoulder so badly that it barely hung on by a few threads of flesh and ligaments.

That would serve him right for throwing his lot in with Voldemort, and Harry pressed on, quickly forgetting the traitorous Healer as he was set upon by two others garbed in Death Eater robes, who quickly proved to be inexperienced.

They haphazardly cast spells towards him, clumsily, but with reckless abandon, and Harry batted the offerings aside as he charged forward, bringing his wand to bear once more, casting a bright light to blind his foes before felling both with cutting curses.

One was caught in the abdomen, opening a deep gash that bled freely, and the second was not so lucky.

The curse caught him below the ear, and he bled out on a matter of seconds, just enough time for Harry to find himself engaged by two more men garbed in Healer robes.

One was quickly sent crashing through a nearby door courtesy of a bludgeoning curse, and did not move after enduring such an impact, and the next seemed to have second thoughts about continuing.

A mistake on his part.

Harry did not and brought the ceiling above down on top of him, burying the man in a pile of rubble he could not hope to shift alone.

Taking a breath, he continued on his way, the presence of the Dementors becoming more prominent as he did so until he reached a door that had been magically sealed from the other side.

Riddle had help from within.

The sound of the furious fighting somewhere ahead of him indicated that the Death Eaters nor the Dementors had managed to make it past the waiting area, which meant Tom had either planted his people here earlier in the day, or they’d been here all along.

Neither was a welcome realisation.

It meant that Harry would need to be cautious of everyone he might come across that he did not know, and as he’d not mixed with many in Britain since returning, that was an extensive list.

With a shake of his head, he began tackling the magic sealing the door shut, as calmly as he could, but not forgetting that Andromeda was likely ahead of him somewhere.

“Shit!” he cursed as he was forced to cease his efforts to deal with another Death Eater who rounded the corner of the corridor.

The curse sent his way missed him, only just, and the wall it splashed against began to hiss, the brickwork melting into a bubbling puddle on the floor.

Instinctively, he gathered up some of the molten mass before banishing it towards is newest attacker. The man shielded, but it was ineffective against his own magic lacing the projectile. It passed through as though it wasn’t there, splattering his robes, which immediately caught fire.

He screamed, dropping his wand as he attempted to douse them, to no avail.

Harry heard his screams fading as he ran blindly in a panic, unable to bother Harry again, who set to work on the door once more, knowing he was losing valuable seconds.

After a few moments, he managed to break through, kicking it open, and turning to avoid a flurry of spells sent in his direction.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled. “This just gets better and better.”

Cursing under his breath once more, he conjured a mirror to see if he could get a better assessment of what he faced, only to whistle as it was blown out of his hand as he angled it around the door.

“Four,” he said questioningly. “Maybe five.”

With a frown, he drew his trusted dagger, splitting it into three, and tapping each with his wand. Releasing them, he listened to the reaction of those waiting for him, counting as he identified different voices, and how many were silenced by the blades.

“Three down,” he said with a shrug, keeping low as he ducked back into the doorway, blocking another offering of two spells as he stepped forward, sweeping aside the desk the two would-be Healers were using as cover.

They attempted to flee, only to come up against another door that had been sealed.

They were not quick enough in unlocking it, and both collapsed to the ground one after the other, the first from a bone-breaker curse smashing through his spine, and the second with both arms hanging limply at his side where they’d been torn from their sockets.

His scream died on his tongue as Harry stunned him, releasing a deep breath of frustration as he set to work on yet another magical barrier.

“You’ve made a mess,” Tonks called as she entered the room using the same door he had.

“I should’ve known you’d not stay put,” Harry muttered. “I suppose Moody’s dragging himself here.”

Tonks nodded.

“Not as quickly as he’d like to be.”

“Moody stopped being quick in 1977 when he lost his leg.”

“I heard that, Potter,” the former Auror muttered irritably as appeared, leaning on the frame of the door. “It’s this damned leg.”

With a shake of his head, Harry approached, his wand twisting in an intricate pattern, and he watched as the odd blob of magic he created began taking shape until it resembled an almost metallic leg.

“What the hell is that?” Mody asked.

“Something that will help you move a little better. Don’t say I don’t do anything for you, you old git.”

Moody grunted as his wooden one fell to the floor with a dull thud and shivered as the new one attached itself to his severed limb.

“How did you do that?” he whispered, testing it out.

“Well, I definitely don’t want to be in as sorry a state as you when this is all done. You can have that done privately, but it costs a fortune.”

“Well, thanks, lad,” the man returned sincerely, bouncing up and down on his new leg. “Now, shall get this mess sorted out?”

Harry nodded as he finished undoing the magic preventing them from proceeding, and kicked yet another door open, pleased to find the next room empty, but not doubting that much more lie ahead of them.

(Break)

“Get moving and fall in,” Amelia barked. “Gawain, what’s the situation?”

Her breathless Head of the Auror Department wiped the sweat from his brow. For the past ten minutes, he had not stopped in his efforts to rally all he could summon to the departure point used to respond to emergencies.

“Dementors, Death Eaters, and I’m hearing the Dark Lord himself is waiting just outside of St Mungo’s.”

Amelia nodded grimly.

“How many do we have inside?”

“Only twenty active, and thirteen injured in no fit state to fight.”

Her eyes roamed over those gathered. Hearing that Voldemort was there had unsettled the ranks, but with hr leading them, they would follow. Amelia did not doubt that.

In all, Robards had managed to gather around two thirds of their available forces in good time. For now, it would have to suffice. They could not afford to wait any longer before departing.

“I will take this lot, and you follow with the rest when they arrive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gawain responded, hurrying out of the room to continue with his efforts to gather the others.

“Bones, what is the meaning of this?”

She rolled her eyes at the sound Dolores Umbridge’s voice.

The woman cut the most unimposing figure as stomped towards her. If anything, it was a rather comical sight, especially as she held no true authority, nor power to stop her.

“In case you didn’t notice, Dolores, St Mungo’s is under attack. We are responding to that.”

“And are you fully aware of what awaits you? Have you completed a risk assessment?”

Amelia did not miss the dozen figures in black robes slinking into the room, and she offered her colleague a knowing grin as she leaned forwards.

“You do realise that you are attempting to intimidate an entire team of Aurors,” she said just loudly enough for her voice to carry to every corner of the room.

“Minister Yaxley…”

“Can piss off,” one of the Aurors called. “Unless he’s going to personally stop us he sit on this and swivel!”

Amelia would not usually tolerate such profanity or crude, one-fingered salutes, but in this instance, she would let it go in favour of nodding her agreement.

“You should leave, Dolores. I can assure you, neither you nor your lackeys here want me to reach five when I begin counting.”

“How dare you! Minister Yaxley…”

“Three…four…”

Umbridge hurried from the room with her escorts in tow, and Amelia’s glare followed her until the door closed behind them.

Yaxley would undoubtedly blow a lot of hot air about her defying his order, but Amelia didn’t care. She had never bowed to Fudge when he’d been in power, with help, of course, and she certainly would not to the likes of a Dark Lord lickspittle.

She’d gotten Susan back, so, any leverage held over her was well and truly gone, and Amelia would let nothing stopping her from doing the job she had been entrusted with shortly after the last war had finished.

Now, it was time to fight back in this one, to put an end to Lord Voldemort once and for all.

“What is it, Gawain?” she asked as the man burst through the door, his eyes wide.

“They’ve broken through, Bones…”

“But?” Amelia pressed.

“Well, erm, according to one of the witnesses, they saw Potter enter the hospital only a matter of minutes before the Dark Lord attacked.”

“He’s there?”

“Apparently so.”

Amelia nodded.

“Then let us begin repaying that debt,” she murmured. “Aurors, tight formations in groups of four at least. Let’s go!”

She drew her wand and activated her portkey, once again not entirely certain of what awaited her and her aurors, but emboldened by the success of the previous evening, and eager to show the Dark Lord that the lines had well and truly been drawn.

(Break)

Andromeda had always considered herself the most balanced of her sisters. Bellatrix had always been quick to temper, ruthless in her tantrums, and always violent with it, and Narcissa had been the complete opposite; quiet, measured, but no less ruthless when the occasion called for it.

Andromeda seemed to have gotten the very best and worst of both of her sisters.

She would avoid confrontation, for the most part, if possible, but when it was unavoidable, she embodied all it was that gave the Blacks their reputation.

When she’d felt the first spell crash into St Mungo’s, her instinct had been immediately to protect her ailing daughter, but Andromeda had been quickly held back by the dozens of people seeking safety, and those pursuing them.

Already, she had put a stop to three of them, and as she continue don her way towards Nymphadora’s room, her only thought was to reach her, though oddly, she took comfort knowing that Moody and Harry were with her.

The boy may be a pain in the backside from time to time, but Andromeda did not doubt he would protect her daughter.

That was just his nature. He was a protector of those he cared for.

Still, her place was right next to Nymphadora, who would undoubtedly have already left her bed to get herself into even more trouble.

Andromeda paused at the thought and released a deep breath, changing her path from the canteen she had been attempting to get a cup of coffee from towards the waiting area.

That was where she would find her daughter, right where everything was unfolding.

(Break)

The sound of his own bones snapping elicited a scream from the Death Eater Lily found herself fighting, his sudden agony courtesy of a rather unpleasant spell that James had taught her so many years prior.

The man’s feet were now facing the wrong way, and he stumbled, allowing her to take advantage of his predicament.

With another spell that hurled him into the side of a nearby car, his screaming stopped, and Lily moved onto her next target, blocking an incoming curse before she returned fire with her own offering.

Her new opponent stumbled before doubling over and emptying the contents of his stomach. The next spell rendered him unconscious, and if he was fortunate enough to wake, he would do so with more than a few broken ribs.

Much to her relief, the Aurors had arrived only a moment or two after the Order, and though the Death Eaters were managing to keep them at bay, it was just about all they could do.

Some remained focused on breaching the waiting area of St Mungo’s, but the resistance from the aurors within, who were fighting for their lives, was fierce enough to make it quite the task.

Once more, Amelia Bones was doing her utmost to fend off the Dark Lord, and although she was doing so admirably, it was clear she was not quite a match for him.

Even so, she fought on.

It was all any of them could do, until something happened to change the tide in their favour, and Lily, much to her dismay, knew exactly what that change would be.

(Break)

“Any bright ideas for this one?” Moody asked, nodding towards the large glass doors at the end of the corridor where a large cluster of Death Eaters, and others posing as Healers were waiting to greet them.

Harry could feel their leers from beneath those masked and could almost feel the taint of fear in the air. Perhaps that was merely from the marauding Dementors.

The bravado of those goading them from what they perceived a place of safety was rather jarring, and Harry nodded.

“I’ve got something for them,” he answered. “Both of you, conjure a stream of water.”

He smiled at the memory of his lessons with Madame Alarie, how the two of them had debated the possibilities, probabilities, and unheard-of feats of magic when it came to the elements.

Both had agreed that there were those naturally attuned them in some fashion, but Harry had proven that such an affinity was not necessary when dealing with those magically created.

“Streams of water?” Tonks asked confusedly.

“You’ll see. I’ve wanted to try this one for a while now.”

The two of them shared a look mixed with confusion and curiosity before doing as requested, both producing a jet of water.

Releasing a deep breath, Harry raised his wand to manipulate them, directing them to form an enormous ball, before reshaping them into a giant fist.

Banishing it towards the Death Eaters hidden behind the glass doors, it propelled with an incredible force, tearing away any fixings from the white walls, showering the soaking ground in debris.

With a final flourish of his wand, Harry took aim, wondering if his plan would work at all, but almost certain it would.

There was only one way to find out.

Unleashing a bolt of lightning that made the very lights of St Mungo’s flicker, he watched as it slammed into the fist, and the two elements seemed to struggle for dominance.

Before a winner could be declared, however, they smashed into the glass doors, and Harry felt himself blown backwards off his feet, skidding to a halt some distance away from where he’d been standing.

“Note to self, don’t do that again, unless necessary,” he grumbled, pushing himself back to his feet, and shaking his head at the sight of the damage he’d caused.

Where the room the Death Eaters had taken refuge in had been was now only a smouldering, blackened, yet soaking heap of bricks, wood, and mortar, with a few limbs protruding from within here and there.

“If anyone asks, that wasn’t me,” Harry snorted. “Moody, are you alive?”

“Aye,” the man wheezed as Harry helped him to his feet. “What the bloody hell were you thinking, Potter?”

“I thought it was worth a try,” Harry replied with a shrug. “It worked. Maybe a little too well.”

Moody grunted, as he helped the pale Tonks, and the metamorph shook her head at him.

“Weren’t you taught not to mess around with magic like that?”

“Of course,” Harry answered, “but it might be my only chance to ever try that. Madame Alarie will appreciate my findings.”

Tonks rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I have no intention of doing that again,” he assured. “Great, here comes the reinforcements.”

The coldness of the Dementors was instant, creeping into his very essence, and Harry muttered a curse under his breath that would have once seen his mother threaten to ash his moth out with soap.

“Expecto Patronum!”

His falcon burst from the tip of his wand and careened towards the creatures as they appeared among the debris of the destroyed room.

They unleashed a most unpleasant shriek as they were fended off, and Harry gestured for Tonks and Moody to follow him. They were not so far from the waiting area now and would reach quickly if they were not hindered any further.

Harry hoped not.

He was tired of Death Eaters, false Healers, and even the Dementors who had only bothered him for a matter of seconds.

Truthfully, he was tired of the war, but no less determined to put an end to it.

He paused suddenly as he felt yet another troubling presence, one that had been masked by the dementors, but one more troubling.

“What is it?” Tonks asked.

Harry’s grip tightened around his wand, and his nostrils flared.

“He’s here,” he murmured.

“Voldemort?”

Harry only nodded in response, his eyes narrowing as he readied himself to meet the Dark Lord, this time, sooner than he had anticipated after the last.

(Break)

“She can’t last much longer against him,” Emmeline warned, blocking a pair of curses sent her way before responding with her own, dropping one of the Death Eaters in the group she and Sirius were fighting.

He made no sound, but did not attempt to get up. Instead, he was replaced with another robed figure, and the battle continued in earnest.

It seemed that the two sides were somewhat even. The Dark Lord had the numbers, but with the better trained aurors on their own, they made the needed difference.

Even so, they had Voldemort, and although he was currently occupied with a very game Amelia Bones, any could see that she was once more outmatched.

As though her words and thoughts had resonated with the world itself, a thunderous explosion sounded from within St Mungo’s with enough force to make Emmeline take a few steps backwards.

“What was that?” she gasped as she managed to find her footing.

Before Sirius could answer, the protesting dementors were fleeing the hospital, screeching towards the night sky as they were pursued by a white, ethereal blur.

Emmeline breathed a sigh of relief as the oppressive magic of the creatures faded, but it was replaced by something equally noticeable.

“Harry,” she said knowingly, relieved by his appearance.

The aurors that had been within the hospital were gathered behind him, and at just the right moment, another sizeable group arrived, undoubtedly turning the tide of the battle in their favour.

Even so, the Dark Lord was not deterred, but his focus shifted immediately towards Harry, who, as he had the previous evening, stared the man down as he stalked towards him, his wand a blur as he began hurling curse after curse towards him.

“He’s bloody mad,” Emmeline sighed.

Sirius nodded grimly as he too sprang into action, his spells aimed towards any who dared intercept his godson.

All of a sudden, the battle had taken on a different feeling, and as Voldemort returned fire against Harry, it was clear that it would change even more so.

The magic both wielded was like nothing Emmeline had witnessed before that night in the Ministry of Magic.

Even when she’d seen Albus cross wands with the Dark Lord, there had never been such an intensity, or even intent from the former leader of the Order of the Phoenix to kill Voldemort.

Harry, however, was not so reticent.

Everything spell he cast, every curse, or transfiguration was done with the intent of destroying everything the Dark Lord was.

It was as awe-inspiring as it was frightening, and Emmeline was pleased that she was not so close that she might inadvertently get caught in the crossfire.

“We should probably move back,” Sirius urged, taking her by the arm.

The Death Eaters were already retreating, but Harry and Voldemort remained steadfast, their magicks colliding, tearing the street they fought upon asunder.

It would take considerable work to put right when all was said and done, and yet, it ended just as quickly as it had begun, with Voldemort grinning at Harry before vanishing in a cloud of blackened smoke.

“Nobody move,” Harry warned. “He’s still here.”

Emmeline frowned and looked towards Sirius questioningly, and his eyes widened.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“LILY!”

It was incredible how quickly Harry reacted.

Even before the Dark Lord had finished the first syllable of the curse, he was already in the path of it. How he managed such a feat was lost on Emmeline, but what happened next, beggared belief.

She knew it could not be so simple as it appeared, but he simply raised his hand, and though the force of the magical reaction knocked him off his feet, he immediately returned to them as a shrill scream filled the air.

“Unbelievable,” Sirius whispered.

Those gathered looked on in a mixture of shock and curiosity as Voldemort too was sent sprawling, his expression one of utter disbelief as he struggled back to a standing position, staggering, and clutching his chest, his breathing laboured.

“That didn’t work the first time you tried it, Tom. What makes you think it would be any different?” Harry asked coldly.

Instead of answering immediately, Voldemort merely chuckled in response.

“Whatever you did, Harry, did not work either,” he pointed out. “I still stand before you and will be here long after you are dead.”

Offering a slight bow, he vanished in a plume of smoke, smashing through what remained of the entrance of St Mungo’s as he took his leave.

No one said anything, each pair of eyes trained on Harry, who frowned.

“He’s gone,” he assured them.

The other Death Eaters had followed their master, and Emmeline turned towards Sirius.

“What just happened?” she asked.

He could only shake his head in response as he watched Harry speaking with a frantic Lily.

“I have no idea.”

(Break)

“Nymphadora!”

“Mum!”

The metamorph breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her mother. She was a little dishevelled but seemed to be no worse for wear.

“Are you hurt?”

“I am fine, but the same cannot be said for you. What in Merlin’s name happened?”

“Voldemort,” Tonks sighed, “and all of this, Harry.”

“That was Harry?”

Nymphadora nodded as she looked towards the young man, who offered her and Moody a nod before vanishing.

“He was brilliant, Mum, even if he is a reckless prat.”

“That, unfortunately, is in his blood,” her mother sighed. “Come along, I’m taking you home. You’ll be safer there. You too, Moody. You could use some rest.”

“I’m fine, lass…”

“That wasn’t an invitation, Alastor, and where on earth did you get that leg?”

Tonks smirked as her mother began almost frogmarching the protesting man away but hid it as he shot a glare at her with his one good eye.

He knew it was no good arguing with Andromeda Tonks. She was a stubborn woman, and would not take no for an answer, something her daughter knew only too well.

For her part, she surveyed the damage caused in the moments gone by and could only shake her head.

Having watched Harry grow up, knowing him as a child to what he was becoming, she could never have imagined such a sweet, mischievous, and sometimes annoying boy being capable of what he was.

Tonks was proud of him, if not a little worried about what was yet to come, but proud, and had even come to admire him for his hard work and dedication.

Still, that didn’t change that he was a reckless prat, just as he’d always been.

Some things, it seemed, would never change.

(Break)

He winced as he made his way through the home that had belonged to his father’s family, grimacing as he felt another surge of adrenaline flowing through his veins.

What Potter had done, or how he had done it, the Dark Lord didn’t know, but it was a most troubling occurrence.

He had not only survived the killing curse but had done the impossible by stopping it in its path.

How?

Many had died attempting such a feat, and there was no known shield that could accomplish it. What made Potter so special that he had?

The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord…

He shook his head of the haunting thoughts of the prophecy, though he could not ignore the significance of it, ow more than ever.

It had been concerning enough that the boy had survived as a babe, but he was no longer so. No, he was indeed on the cusp of manhood, and the Dark Lord could not deny that he was shaping up to be quite the incredible wizard.

He was so unlike Dumbledore in his ways. Oh, he was creative, powerful, and had a grasp on magic that so few could ever hope to begin to understand, but he was different.

Potter was ruthless, remorseless, and shared an equal determination to kill the Dark Lord as he did the boy.

It was quite the revelation to face such a foe, and it was only his own reassurances of his immortality that ensured he remained so poised and unconcerned by what he faced.

Yes, Potter was indeed different, but like all others, just another man he had been tasked with killing on his path to true greatness.

(Break)

He could feel the magic building even before the Dark Lord reappeared, that same magic he would never forget the feeling of as it had torn through him when he was just a babe.

It was as though time stood still as Harry looked on, hopeless to most, but he had played this scenario over in his mind more times than he cared to count, had promised his mother he would protect her, and he would not go back on his word.

Is reaction, truthfully, had been instinctual.

It wasn’t until he’d begun apparating that the idea to do what he had formed in his mind, and without even pondering it, he had retrieved the diary that had belonged to the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, cast an invisibility charm on it, just in the nick of time to intercept the spell.

Harry had not known what would happen.

He’d thought that perhaps the spell would do nothing because the target was his own soul, but no, it proved to be non-prejudiced. The Horcrux was destroyed, and Harry had now found himself wondering if Riddle would indeed feel it as each one perished.

Not that the Dark Lord had been panicked enough to realise what had happened.

No, as with the others present, he would believe Harry had discovered a way to block the unblockable spell that had claimed many.

That wasn’t so.

The thought had crossed his mind, but it had only taken a brief delving into the research of others to realise that it was all but suicide to do so.

Maybe there was a magical way of accomplishing the feat, but it wouldn’t be Harry to risk his life discovering it.

He released a deep breath as he stood under the heat of the shower.

It had been a damned near miss, nearer than he was comfortable, and despite his success, it was not something he would do again, unless he was desperate.

Although he’d managed to use the Horcrux to his own end, he’d felt the magic grasping for him, and only just coming up short.

No, it was an unwise move, a foolish undertaking where luck had been in his favour.

Next, that may not be so.

He turned as he heard the door to the bathroom opening, swallowing deeply at the sight of Sabine as she disrobed, and stood before him for just a moment so that he could admire her beauty.

Her future husband was a lucky man, and not just because of how striking she was.

Sabine was clever, funny, and, well, to Harry. Just brilliant in every way he could imagine, and yet, she was not to be his.

Even so, he did not stop her from stepping into the shower with him, nor did he falter when she pressed her lips against his.

It was wrong, and he knew it, but he didn’t care.

Maybe it was selfish, and perhaps even a little petty to take such a small victory that would mean something to no other except for the two of them, but again, Harry did not care.

He would enjoy this whilst he still could, because in just a day, maybe two if he was lucky, she would be gone, and Harry would once more endure that inevitable feeling of loss knowing she was destined for another.

It hurt.

He wouldn’t deny it, but as ever, the world proved to be a cruel mistress, just as it always had for Harry James Potter.