A Promise Kept - Chapter 77 - An Advantage (Copy)
An Advantage
“What is the damage, Robards?” Harry asked as the Head of the Auror Department approached.
The man shook his head.
“Mostly superficial with minimal deaths,” he answered. “It’s like they weren’t targeting the citizens at all, just looking to cause chaos.”
Harry frowned as he surveyed the damage in the centre of Liverpool.
With how many of the buildings had been destroyed, he expected there would be more deaths, or even injuries for that matter. It was confusing to say the least, but no less troubling.
No, this had not been an aimless campaign by the Death Eaters. There was a purpose to their undertaking, as with everything they did, but this was not their regular operation.
The tactic was much the same as they’d adopted during Riddle’s first rise to power, though they still targeted the men, women, and children of Britain. Tonight, it appeared they only wished to draw attention to themselves, to have the Aurors chasing them around the country; a distraction if there ever was one.
To what end?
Voldemort himself had not been seen, and to Harry, that was most concerning. It meant that the man had been up to something elsewhere. What that was, however, eluded him, and worse still, it was most unlikely that he would learn of what it was until it was already too late.
Those same thoughts continued to plague him an exceedingly long week later.
He’d not been granted a moment of respite from dealing with the fallout.
He’d met three times with an irate muggle Prime Minister, who had certainly not endeared himself to Harry, and in the end, he’d chosen to obliviate the man rather than deal with his petulance, and barely an hour had gone by that his attention wasn’t required elsewhere.
Of course, he’d needed to answer to the media to assuage the concerns of the witches and wizards of Britain and liaise with every department involved in the vast clean-up operation.
It had been trying on his patience, and the rest of his responsibilities had needed to be tended to. Fortunately, as ever, Arthur was on hand to assist him, but he couldn’t deny the past days had been woeful, and he was no closer to figuring out the reason behind the sudden reappearance of the Death Eaters.
“So, as you can see, Minister, there truly is no doubt that Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge, is guilty of every single charge brought against her,” Amelia Bones spoke, breaking into his thoughts.
He nodded grimly as he eyed Umbridge.
Prison had not been kind to her.
She’d never been a pleasant woman to look upon, but it seemed she had lost considerably weight in a short amount of time, and her hair was undoubtedly greyer than it had been prior to her incarceration.
As far as Harry was concerned, she deserved every moment of suffering she’d endured, given the misery she had exacted upon others during her long, shady career within the Ministry.
“Thank you, Madam Bones,” he responded. “The Wizengamot will now deliberate to determine the guilt of Dolores Jane Umbridge, and whether or not her transgressions were done with intent. Escort Madam Umbridge back to the holding cells.”
The Aurors guarding the woman did so, and she said nothing else in her defence, the chains binding her arms and ankle clanking as she shuffled from the room.
What followed was a rather short discussion between the Lords and Ladies with none attempting to defend her, each knowing it would be a lost cause to do so.
The evidence was clear, and as Bones had assured him, this was merely a formality.
When the decision was reached within only a matter of fifteen minutes, Harry signalled for Aurors to fetch Umbridge once more, and it was clear upon her entry the woman had already deduced her fate.
Without preamble, Harry tapped his podium with his gavel and cleared his throat.
“Dolores Jane Umbridge, you have been guilty of all charges brought against you, and I am left with little choice than to sentence you to the maximum term allowed for these crimes. You will go to prison for twenty-five years. Take her away.”
This time, she did not remain silent and screamed hoarsely as she was dragged out of the chambers.
When she was gone, Harry tapped the podium once more, bringing an end to the meeting, and received an appreciative nod from Amelia Bones.
Both professionally and personally, she despised Umbridge, and Harry could only imagine the joy she was feeling at finally seeing her get was she’d been due for a long time.
He, however, had already moved on from what was little more than a trivial matter, and his thoughts shifted once more to what had been bothering him all week.
Riddle had not been idle during the Death Eater attacks, of that, he was left in no doubt. No, he’d done something, had initiated the attacks to cover whatever that was, and Harry was determined to get the bottom of it.
He would not rest until he did so.
Entering his office, and with the hour having got late, he saw no reason to get comfortable. Thankfully, Arthur had been tackling whatever else had required his attention for the day, which meant he could return home.
For how long until he was called upon once more, he didn’t know, but he intended to take something of a reprieve, no matter how brief it was.
“You’re home!”
He offered Sabine an apologetic smile.
He’d barely seen her at all this week, the long night he’d predicted turning out to be so much more. Not once had she complained about him being so busy and had always ensured there was a meal waiting for him when he did manage to make it home for a few hours of sleep.
“It feels strange to be home at this time,” he chuckled humourlessly, pulling her into his arms.
She melted into the embrace, and though he would not say it, she seemed to have only gotten heavier with her pregnancy these past days.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she choked back a sob.
“Nothing, it’s stupid,” Sabine huffed.
“I doubt that.”
Sabine offered him a watery chuckled.
“I can’t climb on Bruce anymore.”
He did a poor job at hiding his amusement. It wasn’t that she was unable to do what she loved the most that tickled him, but the image of the heavily pregnant woman attempting to mount the enormous horse in the first place, and Sabine glared at him.
“It’s not funny!”
“You’re right,” Harry comforted. “I’m sorry, I was just imagining you trying to get on him.”
She narrowed her eyes at him before a grin tugged at her lips.
“You know,” she murmured demurely. “I might just start finding it too difficult to get on you.”
She turned away, and Harry could only gape in her direction.
“I’ll have your dinner on the table in ten minutes. Maybe you should take a cold shower, Lord Potter.”
Harry shook his head as he left the room to do so, and true to her word, Sabine placed a plate of food on the table when he entered the kitchen, having changed out of his robes into something more comfortable.
“How was the shower?” she asked before taking a sip of her tea.
Harry did not miss the grin she wore, nor how her eyes trailed over him teasingly.
“I said from the moment we met that you’d be trouble,” he sighed. “I was bloody right.”
Her grin widened.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“No, I don’t suppose I would.”
“So, don’t complain, and eat your dinner.”
Harry did so, his thoughts once more drifting to all that had been on his mind this past week, and just how in the dark he still found himself. Try as he might he could find no clarity on what Riddle was up to.
“You’re not eating,” Sabine spoke, interrupting his thoughts.
“Sorry, I’m just distracted.”
“I’m not surprised with everything you’re doing.”
Harry offered her a wan smile, and Sabine stood, stepping around the table before slipping into his lap.
“What is bothering you?”
“Everything,” Harry chuckled.
“Well, I don’t think I can fix everything.”
Harry nodded.
As things were, he didn’t believe he could either.
“Riddle, mostly,” he murmured. “He’s up to something.”
“He’s always up to something.”
“True, but it’s different this time. What happened last week makes no sense unless he was using the opportunity to find an advantage.”
“Well, what would you do if you were in his position?”
Harry frowned at the question as he pondered it.
“Either realise I couldn’t win, or find another way to gain an advantage,” he reiterated.
“So, what could he do to gain an advantage? The Ministry of Magic is off limits to him now, and that is the seat of power for the entire country. There’s no other place more valuable.”
Harry stiffened suddenly as a most troubling thought crossed his mind, and though it seemed improbable, impossible even, he had learned never to underestimate the Dark Lord.
“Oh, fuck,” he cursed as he stood, carrying Sabine in his arms.
“What is it?”
Harry swallowed deeply at the thoughts plaguing him now, and released a deep, calming breath, though his efforts proved to be in vein.
“He’s at Hogwarts!”
“Hogwarts?”
Hary nodded gravely.
“There are several children and other family members of the Lords and Ladies,” he explained, “and the castle is a fortress. If he has managed to take it…”
“How?”
Harry shook his head.
“I don’t know, but he would find a way. Shit, I need to speak with Sirius.”
He fired off a few patronus charms and summoned his jacket before placing a kiss on his cheek.
“I’ll let you know what is happening,” he promised before hurrying from the kitchen, hoping beyond hope that he was wrong, though Harry was certain he wasn’t.
It was what he would do if he found himself in such a desperate situation, and if Riddle had indeed done just that, then the war may have just taken another most unfavourable turn.
Still, he needed to be certain, and the best option to achieve clarity was to speak with Sirius, who possessed a certain map that would confirm or alleviate his suspicions, though he strongly suspected it would be the former.
(Break)
He was exhausted.
He’d forgotten how difficult babies could be, or maybe it was because he was much older now that all the additional work seemed to more demanding on his aching bones.
Not that he truly had a comparison, not with a babe the age of Ares.
He’d met Harry only a handful of times before he’d taken the boy and Lily in after that Halloween night, and before then, he’d been clueless to just how demanding his godson might have been.
Ares, however, seemed to have made it his personal goal in life to ruin anything Sirius took solace, and it did not help that the boy mostly resembled his grandfather, Arcturus.
“He does not look like your grandfather,” Emmeline huffed amusedly, catching sight of Sirius eyeing the pouty baby curiously.
“He looks at me the same way the old git did.”
Emmeline laughed.
“Or, maybe it is just that Ares looks like you, only with less hair, chubbier cheeks…”
“And an expression of perpetual disappointment? You just described Arcturus perfectly.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
Sirius shook his head.
“Mark my words, Ares is going to be just like him.”
“Would that be so bad? Your grandfather was a highly respected man in the community.”
“He was a terrifying old sod,” Sirius grumbled, though he spoke somewhat fondly.
Arcturus had never been so terrible to him, and there were others within the family who certainly provoked his ire more than Sirius had. If anything, the former Lord Black had tried to keep the ever-forming rift between Sirius and his own parents from becoming even wider, but not even he had managed to do that.
Not even Merlin himself could’ve, after all.
No, Arcturus had been a difficult man in many ways, but he’d never treated Sirius the same way his mother had, even when he’d been sorted into Gryffindor.
“Shit!” he cursed as Harry’s patronus appeared in front of him.
With how often he was intruded upon in such a way, he would’ve expected to have gotten used to it by now.
“We need to talk, I will be there in a few moments.”
The tone of his godson’s voice was unusually urgent, and his demeanour as he entered spoke of how alarmed Harry was.
“What’s wrong?”
The younger man deflated and shook his head.
“Maybe nothing, but do you have the map?”
Sirius frowned as he nodded, summoning the dog-eared piece of parchment.
“What do you need the map for?”
“Just activate it,” Harry urged.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
It never failed to elicit a sense of nostalgia within him as the ink began to sprawl across the expanse of the parchment, and though he was the very last of the Marauders, many of the memories were still fond, even if they were soured by what Pettigrew had done.
Sirius shook his heads of thoughts of the man.
He was not worth wasting another second of his life on, not having spent the better part of fifteen years imagining the suffering he would exact upon him.
Harry had done just that, and Sirius had been able to put the grudge to bed.
His frown deepened as he began inspecting the map, swallowing worriedly as he took in the various dots that did not belong, and his gaze shifted towards the grim Harry, who merely nodded.
“He’s there, isn’t he?”
Sirius could only nod as he continued to stare at the map, those within the castle among the children of magical Britain quite the cause for concern.
Bellatrix was there, as was Antonin Dolohov, and Snape, but within the Minerva’s office was the Dark Lord himself.
“That’s why he was doing the night they attacked,” he realised aloud. “He was breaking into the castle whilst we were all distracted. “Bloody hell, they must be posing as the professors.”
He pointed to the dungeons where the several other familiar dots were gathered in a single room, providing him with the only relief to be had from the situation.
Minerva and the others were still alive, which meant the Death Eaters were likely using Polyjuice potion.
He handed Harry the map, and he took in the layout of the school, his expression grim as he pondered the most troubling of problems. The implications were not good, but Sirius wondered why the Dark Lord had not announced his triumph.
He was up to something, and his intention was to clearly keep everyone else in the dark whilst he did it. What that could be was lost on Sirius, and evidently Harry too.
“It didn’t go entirely to plan,” his godson spoke. “If it had, he would be lording himself over everyone. Him taking Hogwarts would be something he wants everyone to know.”
“So, what is he doing?”
Harry shook his head.
“Well, he’s got all of the members of staff imprisoned, but the school seems to be running as it was, which can only mean he has not managed to take control of the protections.”
“But as soon as he does…”
Harry’s expression darkened.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured.
“What can we do?” Emmeline asked worriedly.
Sirius did not know.
It wasn’t as though they could attack Hogwarts. Riddle would not hesitate to use the students as his mercy as leverage, and certainly the members of staff.
“We have to be very careful,” Harry mused aloud. “For now, he is under the impression we do not know he is there.”
“And that isn’t going to change. Dislodging him from the castle will be impossible, especially when he gets the protections up. He will figure it out, and when he does…”
Harry nodded as he began pacing back and forth, shaking his head before dragging a hand through his hair.
“The last thing we want is for those protections to go up, but we can’t prevent that.”
“So, what can we do?” Emmeline asked once more.
“Well, I do have an idea,” Harry declared, evidently quite uneasy by it. “No one is going to like this one, but I think it is our only option.”
Sirius looked towards his godson questioningly, failing to find the usual mischievous smirk or reassuring nod. No, this time, Harry was clearly quite uncertain himself of the plan he’d concocted, and as he began to speak, Sirius could only think that the young man had completely taken leave of his senses.
Even so, he could already see that his mind was made up, and that he would not be talked out of it, which meant that he would proceed, despite the unfathomable risk.
“Alright,” Sirius sighed. “I’m going to regret asking, but, what’s your plan?”
(Break)
He watched and waited for the girl he’d placed under the Imperius curse to return, and when she did so only a few moments later, he was pleased to see his instructions were carried out exactly as given.
Minerva McGonagall was following the girl with the tip of her wand lit wearing an expression of confusion as her student came to a halt.
“Well, what is it, Miss Carruthers?”
With a flick of hi wand, McGonagall was quickly bereft of her own, not having expected to be attacked within the safety of the castle, and the Dark Lord removed his disillusionment charm, greeting the pale woman with a smile.
“It would be for the best that you do not do anything to alert anyone to my presence. I will kill your students should you do so.”
The woman’s nostrils flared, and she nodded reluctantly.
“Excellent,” the Dark Lord declared. “Now, you can show me to your office. Oh, and I do hope you cooperate. I would rather not go through the tedium of forcing you. Any resistance will be futile, on your part.”
“You will give me your word that you will not harm the students.”
“So long as you cooperate, there is no reason to harm anyone, for the time being.”
His nostrils flared in irritation as once more, his efforts yielded nothing.
He could feel the castle itself resisting him, and despite all he’d subjected McGonagall to when she’d been unable to comply with his wises, the woman had been unable to help. It was as though Hogwarts knew that something was amiss, that very essence of the school could sense that the headmistress had been acting against the interest of the students, and when dealing with old magic such as this, the Dark Lord needed to be cautious.
He had fallen afoul of it once before, and the next years had been nothing short of a constant state of agony he’d existed within.
No, as much as he wanted to seize control, he needed to minimise the threat against him.
Besides, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have time.
He had infiltrated the castle without drawing any attention to himself, had cowed any potential repercussions from any members of staff, and was firmly in control of the situation, just not the school as whole.
That, however, would change when he managed to weave his way through whatever magic was preventing him from doing so, and then, wizarding Britain would fall to its knees in submission, begging for him to show mercy to the students within.
The very thought brought a grin to his lips, though it fell as he remembered that he was not quite there yet and hadn’t established the control he needed.
With that in mind, he set to work once more, determined to secure his hold, and finally gain the greatest possible advantage available to him since the Ministry of Magic had been snatched from his grasp.
That would not happen again.
No. The Dark Lord’s grip was slowly tightening around the one place none could hope to get to, not unless they wished to be responsible for the slaughter of the children of magical Britain.
Soon enough, he would succeed. It was only a matter of time before the castle yielded to him.
(Break)
It was a most troubling revelation Harry now found himself competing with.
Riddle had certainly played his hand well, and the man was a week ahead of Harry, who found himself scrambling to gain a semblance of control of the situation he faced.
Despite having formulated a plan of sorts, he would not profess to be even close to as confident as he would like, but given the inevitable uphill struggle of dislodging the Death Eaters and Voldemort from Hogwarts, what he had come up with in the heat of the moment, and was still developing now, only became more necessary the more he came to terms with what had happened.
Riddle certainly wouldn’t leave Hogwarts unless he was forced, and when he gained control of the school, that very task would only become more troublesome.
There was only one thing for it, and though time was of the essence, Harry knew he needed to plan accordingly as much as he needed to act imminently.
Delaying would undoubtedly be detrimental to the outcome, and yet, there were things he needed to be assured of before he acted, much to the displeasure of his godfather, who had spoken out vehemently against his plan.
Harry would not pretend to like it any more than Sirius, but his mind had been made up, and he could not deny himself the potential advantages he could forge for himself before delving into something he could not come back from.
Knowing that he could not afford to procrastinate, he had made a brief return to the ranch for some much-needed privacy and found himself once more looking upon the stone he had liberated from the Gaunt home in Little Hangelton.
He had thought that perhaps it would be his grandfather he would speak with first, but there was only one who could potentially help him, and though he was reluctant to do so, he picked up the odd artefact.
Turning it over in his hands, he could immediately feel the magic of the Hallow connecting to his own, and as he closed his eyes, envisioning the one he wished to confer with, he felt the somewhat familiar presence being pulled from the void.
When he opened his eyes, it was to be greeted by the sight of a thoroughly confused Albus Dumbledore, though the apparition he had brought forth was undeniably lacking in the nature of the man.
“Harry?”
He nodded as he stood, and Dumbledore looked around questioningly.
“You’re in America,” Harry explained, “well, whatever it is you are.”
Dumbledore frowned.
“I feel very cold, Harry. I should not be here.”
“I know, and I would not have summoned you unless it was necessary. We have a problem, Albus. Riddle has managed to infiltrate Hogwarts, and soon enough, he will manage to take control of protections around the school.”
“Oh dear.”
“I need to know if there is any way when he does that, I can find a way in.”
The former headmaster shook his head.
“No. If he chooses to keep any out, it will be incredibly difficult to bypass the protections without destroying them.”
“And that cannot be done quietly.”
“It cannot.”
“Which means that he will know of it long before it has happened,” Harry murmured. “The school is full of students. So far, he has been unable to take control, but…”
“He will,” Albus interjected matter-of-factly. “If nothing else, he is as determined as he is capable. The protections are not infallible.”
“What if I use the cloak?”
Albus frowned at the question.
“I do not know, but I would not rely on it.”
“I thought as much,” Harry sighed. “Surely, there must be something I can do, even if it is finding a way to let others in if I am inside the protections.”
“You would be alone, Harry,” Dumbledore warned, “and…”
He broke off before nodding.
“Perhaps there is a way, but I cannot promise it will work. During Tom’s first rise, I established a failsafe that would see me be able to leave the castle, but I am unsure if it can be used as a two-way form of doing so. I’m afraid I do not remember the details. Ah, you must speak with Aberforth. He is unaware of what I did, but it will come to him.”
“Your brother?”
Albus smiled sadly, the first show of any kind of emotion he’d shown since being summoned.
“Yes.”
“Then I will do so as a priority. I must be quick. There is no telling how limited my time is. Thank you, Albus.”
“Of course, my dear boy.”
Harry allowed the apparition of the man to fade, and he couldn’t help but reflect on just how unlike the man what he’d summoned had been. It as though he had managed to summon merely a shadow, a figure that was undeniably Albus Dumbledore, but it lacked everything that mad the man who he was to those that knew him.
It was a rather eerie experience, though not one he could afford to dwell on.
No, knowing time truly was of the essence, he activated his portkey before apparating immediately to Hogsmeade to speak with the other Dumbledore, hoping that the prospect of what he faced was not as hopeless as it appeared to be on the surface.
If Aberforth could not help him, then his plan would need to be adjusted in another way that would only lessen his chances of success, which he could not deny were already exceptionally.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed, releasing a deep breath as he once again repeated what needed to be done before he could even begin implementing the plan he had conducted.
It was quite the exhaustive list, and not knowing just how much time had would be granted to prepare, every second would count.
(Break)
“Phineas?”
He waited for several moments, cursing under his breath when he realised his ancestor was not coming.
He’d hoped that the portrait would be able to give him an insight to what was happening within the school, and the headmistress’s office in particular, but evidently, the Dark Lord had already found a way to prevent the portraits from leaving.
Of course, it had been worth a shot, though now it seemed that, save for the map, Harry would indeed be blind to what Phineas would have been able to share.
“Has he completely lost his mind?” Lily asked.
Sirius did not know what to say.
There would be no words to comfort the woman or even fill her with any semblance of confidence in the plan Harry had haphazardly concocted, and yet, having pondered it himself quite extensively, he could see the merit in it.
Oh, it was risky, much riskier than he liked, but to defeat Voldemort, it would take something daring, though he could not deny that this bordered on suicide.
Were it any other than his godson who’d come up with and was implementing it, he would struggle to see how it could be successful.
However, with everything Harry had ever done, Sirius could not bring himself to lose faith in the young man. Time and again he had beaten the odds, and although this latest plan was far from desirable, he knew that such boldness had become necessary.
Voldemort could not be allowed to succeed in his own efforts.
Wizarding Britain would inevitably crumble from the fallout.
Either the students would become hostages to force the rest of the country to comply with the Dark Lord, or they would be killed, and Riddle would have as close to an impenetrable fortress to call his own.
Both, likely.
“I do not like it,” Sirius sighed, “but as things are, it is the best we have.”
“And, of course, Harry is the one to jump into the shit with both feet.”
It wasn’t often the woman cursed. Even after all of Harry’s other seemingly foolish exploits over the years, Lily had managed to maintain a semblance of her composure, but this was evidently a step too far, and Sirius could see it too.
“Is he really doing it?” Sabine asked worriedly, nursing her stomach.
Sirius could only nod in response, and the woman swallowed deeply.
“Stupid man,” she murmured, wiping away a tear that rolled down her cheek.
“He is a stupid man,” Lily agreed sadly. “I suppose we’d best make our way to Grimmauld Place if that is where he will be.”
Sirius released a laboured breath as he led the way towards the fireplace.
The coming hours and days would be full of trepidation, of waiting for word from Harry as he humoured his own plan, though there would be no humour to find in it.
No, it would be a perilous undertaking at best, and yet, Sirius knew that it could finally bring about the end of the war that had torn the country apart for much of his life, and just about all of his godson’s.
(Break)
She winced as she woke from the pain lancing through her.
The Dark Lord had been a man of his word, had subjected her to the most unpleasant of treatment, and though Minerva had done her utmost to help him to preserve the lives of her students and colleagues, her efforts had been to no avail.
Hogwarts simply would not allow her to hand over the power the man sought.
At first, he had believed she was defying him, that Minerva was stalling in the hope that someone would come to assist her, but that was not so.
Albus had warned her during the first uprising that if he managed to find his way into the school, it was already too late to prevent him from harming those within.
Minerva had not forgotten it, but being disarmed by him when she’d been fetched by a frantic student had only served to remind her of the wise words of her mentor.
Nonetheless, try as she might, even under considerable duress, she’d not been able to give the Dark Lord what he wanted, and now, she and her colleagues were imprisoned within the dungeons for the duration, though Minerva did not doubt that when it was convenient for Voldemort to do so, he would kill them.
It was an embittering thought.
Having dedicated her life to Hogwarts, it was only fitting that she would meet her end here, just not in such a way.
She could only shake her head defeatedly, though she covered her eyes as burst of fire forced her to do so.
“Potter?” she whispered hoarsely when she managed to open them once more.
The young man placed a finger to his lips.
“I do not have long,” he said urgently. “I want you all to know that I am doing everything I can to put an end to this. So far, he hasn’t managed to take control of the protections, but he will soon enough. What I need from each of you is a few hairs and be quick about it.”
Minerva eyed the man questioningly as he placed his ear to the door and consulted a piece of parchment he was carrying.
With no further explanation, she complied, tearing out a clump and placing it in the vial he offered to her.
In less than a minute, he had separate samples from each of the members of staff of the school and nodded gratefully.
“Wait, aren’t you going to get us out of here?” Horace asked.
Potter shook his head apologetically.
“If I do, he will know that I am here, but I will not allow anything to happen to you. I need you to trust me.”
With a final pointed yet apologetic nod, he vanished in another column of fire, and Minerva could only look towards her confused colleagues.
“What is he up to?” Filius asked.
“I don’t know,” Minerva murmured, “but what choice do we have? We are helpless in here.”
“We are, but Harry isn’t,” the diminutive man replied confidently. “Whatever it is he is doing, I don’t know, but he won’t make it easy for the Dark Lord.”
“What about the students?”
That was the pertinent question.
Were it not for those under their charge, Minerva did not doubt that almost everyone gathered here would’ve fought the Dark Lord off with everything they had, and now, the fate of those within the castle hinged on whatever it was Potter did next.
It was a concerning realisation, but Minerva took comfort in knowing that Harry would be there for them, and allowed just a little hope to blossom that he would see that all would be well.
How he would do that, Minerva didn’t know, but if nothing else, Potter had proven to an excellent wizard and came through when he was needed most.
(Break)
She had taken a moment to compose herself in the room containing the Black family tree, and whilst she did so, she took a moment to study it, taking in the expanse of pureblood names adorning the wall.
It didn’t take Lily long to find those that were familiar to her, and how each of the families were connected through marriages throughout the past centuries.
Although her name wasn’t depicted, she did see James’s connected to Charlus and Dorea Potter, and below his father’s, was Harry’s.
Maybe hers had been neglected because of her birth status, which was preferable to having it forcibly burned off like so many others. Even Sirius’s name had received such treatment.
She paused her musings as she heard voices coming from the next room, and she returned to the kitchen to find Harry speaking with Sabine, Sirius, Emmeline and Arthur Weasley.
“I’ll need you to inform the others,” he instructed, “and for volunteers to be ready, I am able to do what I intend.”
Sirius nodded but it was clear he was not pleased with the plan, and nor was Lily. Nonetheless, she knew her son would not be deterred now that his mind was made up.
She allowed him a few moments with Sabine, and as his attention turned towards her, she gestured for him to follow.
Having been sorting through her old trunk, she’d not been able to forget what she had been working on, on-and-off, these past years, and needed to broach the subject with him.
“Mum, you know I have to do this,” he sighed as she closed the door behind them.
“This isn’t about your plan, Harry, but something else just as important. I need you to think about this, really think, about how he managed to survive that night. What happens if he manages to do it again?”
He was taken aback by the question, and his mouth formed into a hard line as he reached into his pocket and removed a trunk.
Lily watched curiously as he opened it and removed an odd, yet mostly lavish assortment of items.
“This is how,” he said darkly, and Lily shuddered as a most unpleasant wave of magic washed over her.
“What are they?”
“Horcruxes.”
She frowned in response, never having heard of such a thing, nor understanding what they were.
“They contain fragments of his soul,” Harry explained quietly, having cast a privacy charm on the door to ensure they would not be overheard. “It is dark magic, Mum, as dark as it comes. I have all of them, save for one, but I do not have time to find the last. Not that it matters really. I have those I need, and I can hunt the other after. As things are, it is the only choice I have right now.”
“Soul pieces?”
Harry nodded grimly.
“I’ll explain it after this is all over, but these have not been easy to find. Albus discovered his secret, and was a great help, and I managed to find these.”
Soul pieces.
It was not something she had even thought to look into. She’d researched different rituals, and even if the Philosopher’s Stone would be able to ensure someone survived the killing curse, but her studies had drawn a blank.
Even now, it didn’t quite make sense to her, and yet, Harry was certain in what he had obtained, certain that these were how Voldemort had managed to escape death the night he had come for her son.
“I don’t suppose there is anything I can say to change your mind about this?”
Harry shook his head almost apologetically.
“No, he will take control of the school soon, and when he does, none will be able to enter without him knowing about it. I have to do this, and if all goes to plan, I won’t be alone in there any longer than necessary.”
Lily shook her head.
“I don’t like it. You’ll be in there alone long enough with Riddle and his Death Eaters. Harry, this is as dangerous as it could possibly be.”
He offered her a wry smile.
“Well, you always did say I didn’t do anything by half measures,” he chuckled humourlessly as he pulled her into his arms. “The cloak should be enough to keep me hidden for as long as I need, at least.”
He offered her as reassuring smile as he could and placed a kiss on her cheek before leaving the room to speak with Sabine once more. Their parting was a little more intimate, leaving the young woman emotional.
“I will get messages to you as best I can, but no one is to reach out to me,” he reiterated, offering them a final wave before reaching a hand up and vanishing in a column of golden flames.
Lily immediately put an arm around Sabine to comfort her, or maybe to seek some comfort for herself.
Regardless, it would be a most unpleasant wait full of worry and fear until Harry managed to reach out to them, if he was able to at all after implementing such a ridiculous and dangerous plan.
(Break)
“You know that you won’t get away with this.”
“Shut up!” the Dark Lord snapped at the impertinent portrait.
Of course, it was a Black choosing to be churlish when he was trying to concentrate.
He was so close.
He could feel the protections beginning to fall under his control, and he ignored the provocative words of Phineas Nigellus Black in favour of maintaining his focus.
He would burn the portrait when he was done.
“I should’ve listened to Albus,” the portrait of Armando Dippet grumbled. “He said you were a bad egg, but I did not listen.”
The Dark Lord continued to ignore the words of his former headmaster, grinning as the magic of the castle finally yielded to him.
“Silence,” he commanded, his grin widening as the protesting heads could no longer irk him with their words.
Finally, after a little over a week of trying and failing to establish control, Hogwarts was finally his, and now, he needed to ponder just what he would do with his newfound power.
Patience.
He needed to be certain of his next move, but with the castle firmly in his grasp, there was no need to rush. None were wise to his machinations, but they would be when the time was right.
The Dark Lord would be certain to announce his triumph in a most suitable way, after all.