Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Chapter 17: The Halls of the Dead
Snape was dreading Lucius’ reaction to the news, and dreading Narcissa’s even more. The dread he felt was overshadowed by his fear for Lily. The unbearable thought pounded at him: She’s probably already dead by now. He had known torture in many forms, but never torture so exquisite as this: the excruciating balance of hope and despair. He must act on hope now, however. Later, there would be all the time in the world for despair.
The Malfoys were at dinner when he burst into their sitting room. They looked up, reading his face, and immediately drew their wands, thinking that the Dark Lord was there, at Hogwarts, and hard on their friend’s heels.
It was impossible to be gentle or tactful. It was all he could do to speak coherently. "Draco’s gone," he told them brusquely. They looked at each other, full of dismay and confusion. Snape took a breath. "Lily was kidnapped by Portkey from the Great Hall. It’s pretty clear who’s taken her. The Zabini boy too. Lily was sent a letter and the boy touched it at the same time. Draco’s gone after her."
Lucius managed a weak, incredulous laugh. "Gone for the girl? Not possible. He doesn’t know where the Dark Lord is."
Snape did not spare him. "Harry Potter knows. Draco followed him. I saw them flying south out of the Astronomy Tower."
"Potter!" The name was spat out like a curse.
Narcissa was standing wordless by the table. A scream erupted from her, high and wild. Lucius went to her, and the scream stopped. Narcissa took a long sobbing breath, and screamed again, a horrible anguished keening that rattled the very stones. It would have gone on longer, had not her husband taken her by the upper arms and given her a hard shake.
"There’s no time for this!"
"I can’t even Apparate!" she moaned, and was promptly sick on the floor.
"Narcissa?" asked her husband, quickly conjuring a silken cloth to wipe his wife’s face. "I thought you were going to wait until this was all over."
"We could be dead by then," she said dully. "What’s the use in waiting? We’ll live or we’ll die. I’ve nothing else to think about and I think about it all the time. And now Draco—" she shuddered. "I’m not sick from the baby. I’m sick from all the fear. I just want it to be over." She took the cloth from Lucius, gave herself a last wipe with it, and Vanished it. Lucius righted one of the dining chairs overturned in their alarm. She sat in it, trembling, and took a long drink of water.
Lucius stared at the floor and then shook out his hair slightly, and with a ghost of his sneer, told Snape. "I trust you will not hinder me as I leave. Thank Dumbledore for his hospitality, but if I go now, I can Apparate there ahead of Draco and forestall this disaster."
"I had no idea of preventing you. I am going myself, but I must take a few items along. Come with me to the dungeon and I’ll tell you my plan. McGonagall showed me a good Apparition point a few days ago."
He looked at Narcissa with something like compassion. "I’m sorry you must be left alone, but we must go now if we’re to save Draco."
She nodded quickly and got up. She wrapped her arms around Lucius’ neck and kissed him gravely. Then doubling up her fist, she struck him on the chest, crying, "You bring him back to me!"
Lucius caught her hand, kissed it, and left without a word. Narcissa sank back into the chair, her head in her hands.
-----
Hermione was standing in the hall, trying to control the panicky ideas fluttering around her mind. Think! She told herself. It’s what you’re good at.
Nervously, she smoothed the map. She could use it to coach Lily out of the Riddle House. But Harry was already on the way, not responding to his sickle. Why not? She could not see him, and could not see the sickle dangling at the end of its black silk cord, fluttering in the night wind, outside Harry’s robes as he forced his broom to its highest speed.
If he was not responding, it was entirely likely that he would enter the Riddle House himself. Draco Malfoy was with him. She couldn’t imagine how that was going to play out. Harry had a copy of the map and presumably would be cautious, but what if Lily were taken prisoner? He might well find himself once more before Voldemort.
The incantation! Harry knew the incantation, but it was useless without the potion! The potion! I’ve got to get the potion to Harry somehow!
She glanced briefly into Ron’s anxious eyes. He could fly her there! No! It will have to be someone else. There’s something Ron must do for me right away.
"Ron, listen to me--this is important! I’ve got to get to the dungeons, but in the meantime, I need you to go to Gryffindor Tower. Have Ginny go to my room and look in my trunk. The password is "Heathcliff." There is a sickle on a black silk cord. You’ve got to take it to Dumbledore right away. It’s a communicator, and he can use it to speak to Harry, or me, or Lily." She saw his frown gathering, and cried frantically, "There’s no time to be angry because we couldn’t tell you! I’m telling you now. I think Professor Lupin has one too, but I didn’t think to look for it." A stray thought occurred to her. "Maybe Professor Snape has one. I’m not sure." (I’ll call Severus…) "Anyway," she babbled, pulling out her own sickle and showing him. "It looks like this. See, it’s a mirror on one side. It gets hot if someone needs to talk to you. Harry’s not answering his now. I don’t know why, but if Dumbledore has this, he can talk to whoever does answer. Go!" He gaped at her, overwhelmed at the amount of information. She gave him a shove. "Go now!" Hesitantly, he started to run, and she shouted after him, "He can tap it three times, or say ‘Harry’s sickle!’" Ron was nearly down the hall, waving his acknowledgement. She shouted again, "And remember! Heathcliff!"
She set out running herself. She would find Professor Snape. They could decant some of the potion into a bottle that would break when thrown. She would pick up a pair of her brushes that she had contributed to the effort. If worse came to the worst, they would have something. Professor Snape could Apparate; and either stop Harry, or give him the potion to use as a weapon.
She ran down the hall panting, a stitch in her side. She clutched at it, crumpling the map. But what if he doesn’t find Harry? What if he has the potion and runs into Voldemort? The potion is useless without the incantation! Oh no! Professor Snape doesn’t know the incantation!
-----
Snape had gathered the necessary things, and was flinging a cloak over his shoulders, when his fingers tangled in a black silk cord. Automatically, he began straightening it, and then simultaneously remembered what it was, and realised that it was hot.
He snatched at it, turning it over to see the mirrored side, and hissed, "Lily’s sickle!"
He nearly sobbed when the little face appeared. "Yes! Severus!" Thin and silvery, Lily’s voice spoke from the sickle. "I’ve been calling and calling! Blaise and I are all right. I think we’re somewhere in the cellar. Hermione is looking for a copy of the map."
Fiercely, Snape growled at her, "Stay where you are, and I will come and get you!"
"We can’t stay here forever," she protested. "We have the fellow who was waiting for us petrified, but someone may come looking for him. I heard that Harry and Draco were on the way."
"Yes!" Snape barked impatiently. "Those idiot boys are on their broomsticks, on their way to be killed! Draco’s father and I are Apparating there and we should be there before them. Lucius knows his way about the place. Describe where you are."
Lucius was staring at him, his curiosity aroused to the highest degree. Reluctantly, Snape motioned him nearer and held the sickle up so Lucius could hear Lily speaking.
"It’s a windowless room with a low ceiling. The walls are stone. There’s a plain wooden door that opens to a hall. It has a low ceiling too. There are empty crates in the room, and a long table with green wooden chairs. There’s another door that opens into a narrow hall. There are lots of doors along that hall. I think I hear someone coming! I can’t talk anymore!" There was a silence, and the picture disappeared.
Snape swore. He then saw Lucius, a knowing smirk on his lips, obviously convinced that he had solved a mystery.
"Jones, indeed!" Lucius laughed grimly. "May I congratulate you on the birth of your daughter? Clever of you, hiding her all these years! I should have guessed, when Narcissa said she had your colouring."
Severus stared back at him, stunned, but did not attempt to deny it. When Lucius thought of anything but Draco’s danger, he felt rather smug at uncovering Severus’ secret. So the girl had been raised abroad by the mother and the putative father. With their deaths, Severus had been forced to bring her to Hogwarts. Not legitimate then, but still a pureblood, and the child of his old friend. If anything, it made her even more suitable. Yes. If the girl survived her ordeal, she would be quite suitable indeed. He had always given Draco everything he wanted, and was not about to stop now.
Snape gave him a curious brush. "Cat hair," was the mysterious explanation. "Absolutely essential."
Gamely, Lucius stowed it in a pocket, and followed his friend out of the dungeons. At the very first turning, they were nearly run down by the intolerable Granger girl, hair more enormous than usual, waving a parchment. She was panting, and grabbed insolently at Snape’s robes, but Severus was far more merciful than he would have been, and heard the girl out.
"I have a copy of the map," she gasped. Snape seized it, understanding its value at once.
He turned on her furiously. The parchment was blank.
"Is this some sort of joke?" he snarled.
Exasperated, she sniffed at him, and tapped the parchment with her wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
The complex details appeared. Both wizards were astounded and reluctantly impressed. Lucius knew the basic map well; but dots moved along the surface here, their names emblazoned. Snape looked for the dungeons. He and Lucius snatched the map away from the indignant Hermione.
"There!" said Lucius triumphantly. "The east cellar. Blaise Zabini—and Lily –" he raised a sardonic eyebrow at Snape—"Jones."
Snape’s heart had nearly stopped. He had feared for a moment that the map would show the name "Evans." Apparently Lily had taken precautions against that. He paused, and said, "Thank you, Miss Granger. This will prove useful." He was striding away with Lucius, when she caught up with them.
"Wait!" she squawked. "Do you have the potion?"
"Of course, I have the potion! What am I, an idiot?"
"How are you going to douse Oldyfart with it?"
"Oldyfart?" mused Lucius.
"That," snapped the impatient Snape, "has nothing to do with you. You are delaying us. Get out of the way."
She grabbed his robe again. "I’m going with you."
"Absolutely not."
"You don’t know the incantation."
Snape stopped. Lucius looked a question at him, and then slowly smiled. "So you do have a weapon against him."
"Yes," Snape bristled. "There is a weapon---"
Hermione broke in, "—but it’s useless without the incantation. I know it."
Snape muttered, "Know-it-all."
Hermione refused to be deterred. "Yes. That’s right. I’m a know-it-all. I know everything. I know the incantation that will finish off Oldyfart for good and all. I know how to use the potion. You know about the potion, and Harry knows the incantation; but I’m the know-it-all, and I know both—and you’d better stop talking and take me with you!"
Lucius shrugged. "Bring her along. The worst that can happen is that the Dark Lord will kill her." He and Snape set off at a quick pace to the Hogwarts boundaries, Hermione trotting behind.
She called out, "Do you have the cat hair brushes?"
The men striding ahead of her pulled the brushes from their pockets, and displayed them to her satisfaction.
Lucius murmured low, "She’s worse than I imagined, the nagging little harpy."
Snape grunted in reply, "Say what you like: she’s the best assistant I’ve ever had or ever will have. If we live through this, I’m going to offer her an apprenticeship."
Lucius was politely incredulous. "Better you than I."
Snape met his eye. "Yes, that’s right."
-----
The voice called "Rookwood!" from down the hall. Blaise put his hand on Lily’s arm, and she hastily whispered, "I think I hear someone coming! I can’t talk anymore!" She slid the sickle away, under her robe, and she and Blaise flattened themselves against the wall, hidden by a stack of crates. Blaise could see through a crack to the doorway, and they held their breath, as footsteps came nearer.
"Did the bloody girl ever show up?" queried the newcomer, peering into the cellar room. "Rookwood?" The wizened, greying Death Eater swore. "Stupid bastard. He’ll shred your hide for skiving off." He took another step into the room. "Rookwood!" he hissed. "Are you drunk?"
Lily heard Blaise swallow, and they both slowly raised their wands. The Death Eater paused, muttered something unintelligible, and left the room.
They both took deep breaths. Lily felt her sickle grow hot again.
-----
Hermione was incensed at being carried about like a sack of oats. Professor Snape had seized her without asking her leave; they had Apparated, and now found themselves at the base of a hill, hidden by trees. Snape dumped her unceremoniously onto her feet, and he and Malfoy studied the map intently.
"They’re still in the cellar. Rookwood too. He must be the one they petrified. Nott’s in the hall outside."
"All right," said Snape. "Which is the quickest way to the cellar?"
Lucius sneered. "I suppose the quickest way would be to knock at the front door, but I freely admit I favour a more subtle approach. There’s a tunnel that lets out near the river, and it’s not far. Look," he said, tracing the map, as Snape nodded, and Hermione stood on tiptoe, trying to see between them. "The boys can’t be here for at least another fifteen minutes. If we can slip in and get the girl out, we can stop Draco before he makes a dead hero of himself." He considered Hermione, head cocked to one side. "I suppose she could stay here to warn Potter and Draco when they arrive."
"Alone?" Hermione protested.
Malfoy’s mouth curved in an amused half-smile. "I’m afraid neither of us is available to hold your grubby paw."
She narrowed her eyes and glared. "Not a good idea to separate me from the potion, if we’re forced to use it. I told you. I know the incantation." She took a step closer. "In fact, I’d say we should leave you out here, while Professor Snape and I go in for Lily and Blaise."
Her voice rose, and Snape hushed her furiously.
"Ridiculous. We’re all going, if you can stop sniping at one another. The tunnel is empty right now. What about wards?"
Lucius smirked. "Our marks will get us through, and the—Miss Granger—too, as long as one of us is touching her. Inside, there are anti-Apparition wards, unfortunately."
Snape gave the map back to Hermione. "Here. It looks like there’s no one in our way until we reach the house and enter the conservatory. Rabastan and Rodolphus are there now."
She examined the map, looking for movement, and then said, "There's Voldemort. And Bellatrix Lestrange too. They’re upstairs. They’re ---very close---ew." That was something she did not want to think about.
Malfoy huffed an ironic laugh. "Shall we?"
He and Snape, wands drawn, led the way. Snape turned to her, "And you, Miss Granger, shall be our navigator."
-----
Lucius’ estimate was quite wrong. He had no idea how hard Harry could push his Firebolt, and how hard Draco could push to keep up with him. Whether conjured by their ardent wishes, or simply due to the forces of nature, a strong north wind sped them across the border, and then on to the village of Little Hangleton. After studying the map for so long, Harry had little trouble recognising the place from the air, and with Draco behind him, landed softly on the roof of the Riddle House.
The wind was still blowing hard: too hard to look long at the map in this exposed place.
He partially unfolded it, and Draco could not help but admire the craft implicit in it. They were above the old servants’ quarters. There was an empty room below them. Carefully, they went to the edge of the roof and looked down. They could just swing down through the broken window if they helped each other. They shrank their brooms and pocketed them, and repressing their distaste at touching the other’s hands, they swung down: first one, then the other, and were in a bare bedchamber, which held only a narrow iron bed frame and no mattress. Standing in the dim light by the window, they looked at the map again.
The little dots were stationary, or moved to and fro. Draco was first to see the names "Blaise Zabini" and "Lily Jones" marked in the east side of the cellars. They also saw "Augustus Rookwood" only a few yards away.
"Do you think they’re prisoners?" Draco felt ill. He had actually met Rookwood. A tall and scrawny man, who seemed somehow half-finished. He had made a great deal of Draco when he was little: always wanting to touch him, always wanting to hold him on his lap, always pressing a little too close with his unpleasant breath and his greedy eyes. Draco had dreaded him as a small child, and as he grew older, came to understand that being a Malfoy had been his only protection against a particularly nasty sort of predator. As his eyes were opened, he also had come to understand that this was just the sort of person who would gravitate to the Dark Lord: a person whose desires lay outside the accepted bounds of behaviour; who would find in this service the only place he could indulge his appetites freely.
Harry was worried too. "He’s not moving," he said slowly. "Maybe he’s got his wand on them." He looked closer. "Still, they’re moving a little. Maybe they’ve got him prisoner. And look, they can’t get out of the room because Nott is in the hall a few yards away."
"Nott’s no trouble, the pathetic old geezer. Once we get there we’ll stupefy him and go out through the tunnel to the river—there."
"All right, but first—"
"But first? But first you’re going to die, little baby Potter, and my baby sister’s little baby."
Bellatrix Lestrange was in the doorway, looking as if Christmas had come early.
Some people freeze in alarm—deer in the headlamps of fate. Harry had never been one of them. He had his wand out already, and automatically shot a curse at his loathed enemy. "Stupefy!"
She dodged the curse easily, with a shrill laugh. "He knows you’re here, silly little babies! Did you think you could just walk into Our Lord’s house like a pair of Muggle vandals? Diffindo!"
Harry rolled out of the way, as the slicing curse tore through the walls. He could hear shouts from downstairs already.
Draco erected a shield. "You must be my Aunt Bella. I’ve heard all about you." Narcissa really had told him all about her sister: how Bella had tormented her, ruined anything she valued, lied to get her into trouble, manipulated their parents to get her way. He decided that further conversation might distract her, if only Potter would understand his intention.
"That’s right, baby dragon. Put the wand down and come to Aunt Bella. We’ll have such fun, just the two of us. I’ll send you back in teeny bits to naughty Narcissa, and then she’ll know she can’t hide her toys from Bella."
Harry eased back against the opposite wall, waiting for his moment. As Bellatrix turned her eyes to Draco, he roared out, "Expelliarmus!"
She shrieked, "Protego!" but not in time. Harry struck her a glancing blow, knocking her off balance. She clung like a limpet to her wand, and raised it for another curse; but Draco followed up immediately, with an "Expelliarmus!" of his own.
She was standing in front of the window; and the second curse struck her, hurling her back and through the window frame. Her outstretched wand hand slammed against the wall in passing, and the wand flew into Draco’s left hand with a smack. She was outlined in moonlight, seeming to pause in mid-air. Then she plummeted, falling down the slope and then to the garden retaining wall all the way to the road.
"We can’t stay here!" Harry pointed out. He longed to follow Bellatrix and finish her off forever, but there was no time. He smoothed the map and glanced at it. "Dolohov and Mulciber are coming up the stairs!"
Draco took a brief look himself, and said. "Stupid to let them come find us. I’ll take Mulciber."
"Fine with me." They each took a breath, and then rushed for the hall doorway.
-----
"Stop!" Hermione whispered. "Crabbe is coming into the tunnel. He’s just up on the left at the turn."
Lucius snorted. "Crabbe." He caught Snape’s eye with a derisive look. "We can do this silently."
Snape nodded briefly, and the two men prowled to the bend in the tunnel. From long practice, they went into combat mode, appearing without warning before Crabbe even had time to register their identity. He crumpled to the ground, and was immediately bound with conjured ropes.
"That’s two down," Lucius said with satisfaction. Crabbe was levitated out of the way, and they moved on to the tunnel’s entrance to the house.
Hermione murmured, "The two Lestranges are still there. They’re not moving."
"In the conservatory," Lucius considered. "They’re playing chess."
They were. In the draughty, high-ceilinged room, ringed with long-dead plants, the two wizards sat on either side of a small table, focused entirely upon their game. Snape and Lucius eyed them carefully from the doorway before stepping out into the room and disabling them. They, too, were bound and deposited behind some large pots.
"This is almost too easy," purred Lucius. He regarded the two brothers with dislike: they had backed Bellatrix immediately when she had made her ridiculous accusations against him. It was always so satisfying to make clear to people what a bad enemy he was.
Hermione was studying the map with growing unease. She whispered, "Shh! Peter Pettigrew is on the other side of the wall! He seems to be going back and forth." She pointed at the middle of the wall, separating them from the morning room. If they could get to the hall leading out from the conservatory, they should be able to make their way to the kitchen, and then down to the cellars. Once they were in the hall, however, Pettigrew might see them if he were facing that way.
Quietly, they hurried through the conservatory and toward the doorway. The house creaked ominously, and a sudden breath of cold air rushed through the room. Hermione looked around for an open window.
Suddenly, there were shouts from upstairs. A woman’s screech rang through the house with a faint echo. It could only be Bellatrix Lestrange. Malfoy and Snape looked at each other, horrified.
"They’re here already!" cried Lucius. He broke into a run, heading to the open door.
"Lucius!" Snape followed him. Hermione was trying to look at the map, which flapped forward in the cold draught.
"Wait!" she called out, trying to catch the men up. Lucius was nearly at the door when there was a shout of "Expelliarmus!" and Lucius crashed sideways, his wand flying. Snape whirled, wand at the ready, but there was another "Expelliarmus!" and he flew back into the pots by the window.
Peter Pettigrew was in the room behind them, blasting curses their way. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Hermione ran behind a mummified potted palm, and the crafty little man saw her flight, firing an "Incendio!" at her hiding place. The palm blazed like a torch, and other plants caught fire like matchsticks. She ran out, firing "Expelliarmus!" back at him, trying to disable him. Snape was behind the plants, not moving. She glanced at the doorway, and Lucius was lying still, apparently unconscious. From upstairs, she could hear screams and shouted curses. The sickle against her chest was scorchingly hot, but there was no time to stop and talk. She hid behind a corner of the room, and Pettigrew blasted it apart. She rolled low and tried to run, but her legs failed her. She collapsed to the floor, and then with a quick shout of "Expelliarmus!" she was wandless and vulnerable. A Jelly-legs jinx, she thought, mortified. He must think I’m beneath contempt. She turned over, trying to see around the room.
Pettigrew approached her, grinning. "For such a clever girl, you make a habit of picking the wrong friends. I never expected to see you with Lucius. He eats little girls like you for breakfast. Not this time though." He smirked down at her. "It sounds like your friends are upstairs. I’ll let Bella deal with them. If they’re some of your school chums, I rather not kill them myself. I’m tender-hearted that way. That’s the worst of me."
Hermione stared stonily at him, trying not to let him see her thoughts. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Does he even know that Lily’s in the house? "Probably not the worst, really," she disagreed. The horrible little man had her wand, and was collecting Snape’s and Malfoy’s now.
He came back, looking down at her thoughtfully. "No, you’re wrong. I’m very sorry for you, you know. These two deserve whatever the Dark Lord decides for them, but you’re just a little girl. I don’t like to see children hurt."
Hermione bit her lip. She moved carefully into a sitting position, arranging her useless legs more comfortably. "Then let me go. No one even need know I’m here."
"No," he shook his head sympathetically. "He’ll know. He knows everything, and when he gets to work on those two," he jerked his head toward the unconscious wizards, "they’ll tell him all about you being here; and then where will that leave me? No." He thought a minute, and then, with a generous air, said, "I’m going to do you a kindness, because you’re really a nice little girl, for a Mudblood, and I’ll kill you now. He won’t be pleased, but he knows that accidents happen in a duel. Much better for you, and I don’t have to see you suffer."
He lifted his wand, with an apologetic smile; and then his face changed into something quite terrible. "Avada—"
He was knocked flying by a roaring rush of grey. Bewildered, he staggered up, and was knocked down again by the sweep of a powerful paw.
"Professor Lupin," Hermione called. "He has our wands! Don’t let him get away!"
Pettigrew was shrinking already, his body shortening, falling onto four feet: he was a rat, scurrying toward the safety of the holes in the wall. Lupin bounded after him, horrifyingly fast and unstoppable. The rat changed direction, trying to shake his pursuer, but the distance to the wall was just too great. The wolf’s jaws met with a snap, and the rat was caught; squeaking, flailing in mid-air, he was shaken in a blur of motion. There was a distinct snap of bones, and the creature hung limp.
The werewolf cast the rat away, and stood, furious and panting, while the corpse reverted to its natural form. Peter Pettigrew was quite dead, his neck broken, his head twisted around at an odd angle, a most distressed look on his face.
Very frightened, Hermione crawled toward the dead Animagus, and felt in his pocket for the missing wands. There were not three, though, but six. Hermione wondered whose the others were, and then looked again at one of them. It was identical to Lily’s wand. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s the other Lily’s wand, and Pettigrew stole it when she was killed by Voldemort. She took all the wands and used her own to end the jinx on herself. Cautiously acknowledging Lupin, she searched behind the pots for Snape.
"Ennervate!" Snape’s eyes opened wide, and he was on his feet with astonishing speed, despite his visible bruises. She handed him his wand. "It was Pettigrew, but he’s dead." She saw that she had impressed him, and shook her head. "I didn’t do it. It was Professor Lupin."
Snape saw the werewolf then, standing in the moonlight that streamed through the windows. He froze, repressing a reflexive shudder of fear. Straightening his robes, he mastered himself and gave Lupin the barest of nods.
Hermione said, "I’ll contact Lily, and see if she’s still all right." Snape stared in astonishment as she pulled out her sickle. He had not fully realised until that moment that any one else had them. Yes, Lily had said she spoke to someone about the map. He might have known that the know-it-all would have a hand in that as well. He strode over to Malfoy and roused him. There was a faint growl from Lupin.
"He’s on our side now," he told him coldly. "Don’t blame me if Dumbledore doesn’t share information. Lucius and Narcissa have been in hiding at Hogwarts for nearly a month."
"It’s true, Professor Lupin," Hermione said hurriedly. "Harry and I saw them with the Headmaster the night they arrived. That’s why Draco was attacked."
The werewolf made no other sound, but leaned over Lucius as he awakened. The wizard managed a strangled gasp at the sight of the dripping muzzle close to his own face.
Snape reassured him. "It’s only Lupin. He’s finally earning his keep catching rats."
"Ah," said Malfoy, regaining his composure. He rose, and granted Pettigrew’s dead body a complacent glance. "Very good of him." He looked anxiously toward the hall again. "We have to help Draco. My wand, please."
Hermione handed it to him, and he reflexively wiped it on his robe. She glared at him furiously, and he realised what he had done. With an insincere shrug of apology, he desisted, and turned to leave the room.
"Wait!" Snape stopped him. "Let’s find out what going in the cellars."
Lucius paused as she opened the map, and Snape called quietly. "Lily’s sickle."
Lily appeared at once. "Where are you? What’s that noise upstairs?"
Snape hastily replied. "We are in the conservatory. We’ve accounted for four of the Death Eaters." He glanced over Hermione’s shoulder. "Nott has gone upstairs because Draco and Potter have entered the house from an upstairs window. Go out of the room and turn left. Go up the stairs to the kitchen. Turn right and right again, and follow the hall. We’ll meet you there."
Meanwhile, Hermione was trying to call Harry. "Harry’s sickle. Please, Harry, answer me!" Her sickle was still hot, and suddenly Dumbledore appeared, looking concerned.
"Miss Granger! Why has Peter Pettigrew’s name disappeared from the map?"
"He’s dead, sir. We’re going into the hall, and Lily and Blaise are coming to meet us. I can’t get Harry, but we see him and Draco moving around upstairs and hear a great deal of noise."
Lucius Malfoy was furiously impatient. "We don’t have time to talk to the old fool! I’m leaving!"
Dumbledore smiled calmly, "Ah, yes. Hello to you too, Lucius. Do be careful going up the back stairs, won’t you? If you’ll notice, Voldemort’s name has also dis---"
There was an unearthly crash upstairs. Lupin bounded past them, with Lucius Malfoy running behind.
Hermione clutched at the map and followed Snape, while he strode quickly but more warily out into the wide hall that led to the kitchen and the servants’ dining hall. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a black, egg-shaped object that slowly conformed to the shape of his hand. He whispered "Caldus!" at it.
Hermione’s attention was riveted. "Is that---?"
"Silence!" he answered sharply. He paused in the hall, and turned to her. "When the two of them reach this hall, take them back out through the conservatory and through the tunnel to safety. Call Dumbledore back. He’ll no doubt send some of the Order to retrieve them. I cannot leave Lucius and Draco to fight alone."
Or Harry and Professor Lupin, Hermione thought mutinously. Especially now that you owe Professor Lupin a Wizard’s Debt. There was a man’s hoarse scream from upstairs, and Hermione felt torn. "I can’t leave Harry either!"
"Miss Granger, for once in your life, try to obey your elders! I cannot stay to argue with you. I was prepared to offer you an apprenticeship upon graduation, but not if you cannot do as you are told!" He looked up the stairs, and then back at her, and added, "You must help Lily and Blaise. There is no one else."
He pulled at a corner of the map, and she held it out for him to take a last look. Hermione, listening for Lily, hardly glanced at it. Snape was gone, like a tall black shadow, and the corner of the map folded over again.
She hardly had a chance to notice the name there. Nagini. I know that name. Then she was once again distracted by the sounds of the duel overhead. There was a wild and terrible roar as Lupin drove into the Death Eaters, and screams of fear. Hermione thought she heard running feet.
-----
Blaise had grabbed Lily’s hand, and they began running through the low-ceilinged cellar hall. There were a few steps going up to a door. The door was closed, but they slammed it open and ran through it as an act of faith. They were in the kitchen: large, grimy, and with the sour-sweet smell of food long left to rot. Filth caked the windows. Cobwebs threaded across their path, whipping sticky gossamer threads around them as they ran. There were two doors up ahead.
"Right!" declared Blaise, and the door was flung open, its hinges complaining. A blind hall led nowhere.
"Right again!" he remembered, and they ran together, breathing in the dank and foetid air. There was a smell of burning up ahead. A few wisps of smoke drifted aimlessly through the hallway.
"Hermione!" called Lily. Her friend was there, burdened with wand and map, but she broke into a relieved smile at the sight of them.
"This way!" Hermione called back, pointing toward the source of the burning smell.
"Where’s Severus? Where’s Harry?" Lily asked, looking around frantically.
"Upstairs, holding off the Death Eaters. Professor Snape said to get you out!"
Lily stopped, "I’m not running off and leaving them to be killed! You two go on."
"Right!" Blaise agreed with amazed sarcasm. "I’m going to run away and leave you to protect me." He looked at the ill-used map clutched in Hermione’s left hand. "What’s that?"
Quickly, Hermione began unfolding it. "Look," she pointed. "There are Harry and Draco. His father and Professor Snape are going up the stairs behind Professor Lupin. It looks like they have the Death Eaters caught between them."
"Brave," muttered Blaise, raising his brows.
"Opportunistic," countered Hermione. "Professor Lupin is in werewolf form and resistant to magic. He’s pretty impressive." She tugged at Lily’s sleeve. "Professor Snape ordered me to get you out. It’s important to him."
"It’s important to me to help him."
Lily and Blaise looked at each other. He saw something in her eye, and smiled oddly. "Yes, you’re right. There will never be a better time."
Hermione knew it was hopeless. As one, they turned to the stairs, and started running up them.
As they turned at the landing of the next floor, Blaise remarked quietly to Lily, "He’s your father, isn’t he?"
Startled, Lily nearly tripped on the stairs. Why contradict him? It will do for now. They reached the next floor, and turned to run to the floor above.
Hermione did trip, and she dropped the map. She had forgotten something important. "Wait!" she cried. "Where’s Voldemort?"
"Behind you."
-----
Harry was sitting on the floor behind a section of the wall, the map spread out on his lap. Mulciber was down, moaning wandless in a corner; but Dolohov was a vicious, clever bastard, and had kept on the move, pinning them down with the odd curse. Draco was bleeding from a glancing Diffindo but was still alert and functional. They had to put Dolohov out of action. Harry, using the map, could clearly see Dolohov’s sheltered position.
There was nothing for it. He began blasting at the wall hiding the Death Eater. Draco joined in, and the wall was collapsing before their eyes. There was further noise from downstairs, and a distant roar. Harry wondered what would be heading their way next.
He looked down at the map again. "Wait!" he shouted to Draco, in sudden elation. He motioned furiously to the map, and Draco crossed the room, running low.
Potter’s dirty index finger pointed to dots below marked "Severus Snape," "Remus Lupin," and best of all, "Lucius Malfoy." He grinned at Potter, forgetting to hate him for a moment.
Dolohov fired another "Dirumpi!" into the room, shattering more plaster, and sending splinters of wood and glass flying. "Protego!" shouted Potter, shielding them both.
Outside he heard another wizard shouting up at Dolohov, "Where’s Bellatrix? Where the bloody hell are Rabastan and Rodolphus?"
Dolohov snarled back, "We don’t need them to kill two boys!"
Harry wished he could contact Hermione at Hogwarts and get some more help. He heard running below and took a deep breath, wiping his face with a sleeve. A little silver sickle on its black silk cord caught on a button, and Harry gave a tug. Then he remembered and gave the sickle a tap.
"Lily’s sickle!" There was no answer. "Hermione’s sickle!" He tapped again in exasperation. Professor Dumbledore’s face appeared. "Professor!" he cried, relieved. "Draco and I are in the Riddle House. The map shows Remus, Snape and Malfoy coming this way. We’re holding off two or three Death Eaters---"
Dumbledore interrupted him, looking concerned. "I know where you are Harry, I see you all on the map. I have sent all the Order members I could find to join you, but it will take a little while to get there. Listen, Harry! Voldemort’s dot has disappeared. It is possible that he has Disapparated, or that he has caught on that he is being monitored, and is deliberately confounding the map charm. Be very alert. Nagini is there too, on the floor below you, and dangerously close to Hermione, Lily, and Blaise. You must get them out of there as soon as possible."
There was another blast of plaster, and then a full-throated howl and a surprised scream. Draco looked at him, appalled.
"Yes." Harry smiled triumphantly. "That’s Professor Lupin on a night of the full moon."
Feet were pounding up the steps. A voice bellowed "Avad—" and was cut short. A body rolled down the stairs, head thudding on the steps.
Dolohov burst into the room, firing curses like a madman. He demolished Draco’s shield, and whirled around, looking for an escape route. He fired another curse, and rushed to the window. Harry and Draco shouted, "Expelliarmus!" simultaneously, and the man crashed face first into the wall. He collapsed to his knees, nose gushing blood, and squinted to see a werewolf in the doorway. He fell sideways to the floor, and was bound in a moment by Snape, who pushed Lupin aside.
Lucius Malfoy rushed to his son. "Draco! Are you all right?"
"Father!" He gave him a sheepish smile. "We were rescuing Lily—"
Lucius snorted, and snorted again at the sight of Harry hugging Lupin. Draco grimaced. It was a truly creepy sight.
Snape rolled his eyes, and tapped his sickle. "Lily, where are you? Granger, I told you to get them out!"
Harry broke away from Lupin and said, "Professor Snape! I just talked to Professor Dumbledore. Voldemort’s name disappeared off the map. He thinks he’s either Disapparated already or confounded the map charm. Nagini’s on the floor below."
Lucius muttered, "That can’t be good."
Harry went on, hurriedly. "The rest of the Order is on the way. Do you have the potion?"
Snape’s hand plunged into the deep pocket of his robes. He pulled out a soft, black ovoid, and handed it to Harry.
It was warm: around body temperature. Harry looked at Snape questioningly.
Snape said, obviously loathing the very words. "It is a Weasley Bath-Water Bomb. It explodes on impact, and each bomb contains 50 gallons apiece. It will certainly be enough to drench the Dark Lord." He gave bombs to Draco and Lucius, and kept another for himself, saying, "They can be opened with the word ‘tap-water.’" He caught Lucius’ eye. "Once he has been splashed with the potion, we need to use some of the potion to draw a door with one of the brushes."
Lucius huffed a disbelieving laugh. "What kind of door? You think the Dark Lord will stand still while we draw doors?"
Snape growled, "Any kind of door. It doesn’t have to be large: it just has to be drawn with a cat-hair brush using some of the potion. Once the potion is delivered, he will be nearly immobilised. In theory. Then Potter must recite an incantation, and it should send the Dark Lord somewhere he cannot escape." He strode away, heading to the staircase.
Lucius looked unhappily at Draco. "Stay behind me. If things go wrong, try to find a way out. Get away. Don’t be a hero."
Draco lifted his chin. "I still have to find Lily."
Lucius groaned in helpless disgust, and followed Snape.
Then they heard the screams.
-----
They had stopped at the sound of the thin, cold voice. Hermione’s heart pounded frantically. Unwillingly she looked into the slitted red eyes. Lily’s breath caught, and she and Blaise stood frozen in shock.
"Hello, children. Have you been playing hide and seek? Well, you’re caught." The unlovely face stretched painfully in a mockery of a smile. "The game is over, but you still have a part to play." He studied them thoughtfully. "Potter’s Mudblood friend, the Malfoy brat’s little sweetheart—so touching! And a spare." He looked at Blaise, uninterested. "I only need two."
Blaise flung his wand hand out. "Incendio!" Flames billowed, roaring over Voldemort, setting his robes alight; and Blaise shouted, "Lily! Take Hermione and run! I’ll hold him off!" It was a powerful curse, but with a flick of his wand and a word, Voldemort had extinguished the fire and held their wands. Another flick and an Impedimenta and they were unable to escape. Hermione stumbled over her feet, and hit her head so hard against the banister she saw stars.
"That hurt," said Voldemort with cold wonder. "That was unpleasant. I really must return the compliment." A stream of hisses issued from the lipless mouth.
Blaise gasped, and then cried out in pain. Lily and Hermione turned and then screamed. A huge serpent reared back, having already struck him. Blaise gave Lily a look of disbelief and regret, and screamed again, his back arching. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed; bleeding and jerking in the rigors of nerve poison.
"Well," Voldemort asked dispassionately, "who’s next? Your friend Potter should be along soon."
Hermione tried to think of something, anything to play for time. Her head throbbed, and her vision was blurred by the concussion. Lily dropped to her knees, holding Blaise’s hand. "No, no one else ever again!" she cried fiercely. "Not Harry!"
Voldemort blinked slowly, his attention suddenly riveted. He swept closer and gazed down piercingly at Lily. His eyes widened, and he hissed furiously at the snake, which moved away from the girls.
Snakelike himself, Voldemort’s tongue flicked out, wetting his lips greedily. "How did you do it? How? I’ve got to know!" He stretched his hand out toward her almost caressingly. "Clever, clever girl!"
"Don’t touch her!" A young voice called out.
Simultaneously, another voice commanded in Parseltongue. "Nagini, look up here!" Voldemort’s eyes flicked upward to see four wizards and a werewolf coming down the stairs toward him. The traitor Malfoy and his spawn, his personal potions-brewer Snape, Dumbledore’s pet Lupin, no doubt, and his nemesis, Harry Potter.
It was an alliance he had never imagined in his worse nightmares, and it gave him a split-second’s pause. No pathetic Ministry Aurors, but a union of considerable power and no restraint. Malfoy fired a curse at Nagini: the snake was hurled back, skidding back down the hall, its bones crushed. The two boys and Snape raised their hands, and were not holding wands, but some strange black objects. They were thrown, and flew end over end at him. He prepared to hex them aside, when the black-haired little witch snatched at his robe and spoiled his aim.
Furious, he slashed a curse at her, and reared back to kill. A moment too late. Two of the black objects struck him directly, and another exploded at his feet, drenching him with warm, perfumed water. In the first reflex of alarm, he threw out a blasting curse—an expanding blue sphere of force that knocked his opponents flat and rocked the house.
The staircase and part of the floor, rickety from decades of disrepair, tore loose from the wall, and telescoped to the ground floor in pieces. Stone and wood, shattered into razor edges, exploded in every direction and rained down upon them all. They fell, enemy and friend alike, tangled together, and crashed painfully to the ground floor below. Gallons of the perfumed potion poured over the broken floor above, a waterfall of myrrh and lotus that soaked not just the Dark Lord, but those who fell nearest to him, Lily and Blaise.
Lily gradually returned to full awareness. She was staring up through the hole in the floor, and felt a dull pain in her chest, but nothing below it. Trying not to whimper, she looked down and saw the splintered rail that had impaled her. Blaise was lying underneath her, and she was bleeding into his bleeding wounds. The pain would be far worse without the potion, she suspected. The scent filled the air, filling her with an oddly peaceful sense of detachment.
Blaise was dying, she realised dimly. The spasms had stopped, and his breath had slowed to no more than a faint stirring. Only two yards away, Voldemort was futilely attempting to get up. He had cast some sort of levitation charm to cushion his fall, but he too was in the spell of the potion. A deep humming filled the room. Lily found it comforting. She wondered where Severus was. She wondered if she would see him again. There was no sound from Hermione, who like Lily had had no wand to help slow her fall. As if from far away, she heard Lucius Malfoy anxiously trying to rouse his son, and she called out to him.
"Is there a door?"
There was a silence. "Miss Jones?"
She tried again, knowing she sounded irrational. "There must be a door, or it won’t work. Someone open the door."
Hermione's voice, coughing out dust, seconded her. "Who has a brush?"
She faded out a moment, but heard Lucius Malfoy’s voice saying, "I’ll do it."
The humming turned into a rolling vibration that made her wound throb. She felt for Blaise’s hand. Am I dying, too? No…
There was something left unfinished. She coughed and tried to clear her own throat.
In a croaking whisper, she began:
"Hail, Lord Anubis, Opener of Roads,
Hail, Lord Anubis, Opener of Roads,"
Hermione’s voice, weak and hoarse, joined hers.
" Hail, Lord Anubis, Opener of Roads."
The house began to tremble with the vibrations. The ragged edges of the floor above smoothed and vanished. A great pillared vault soared above, bright with stars. The foul and shabby halls of the Riddle House gave way to the spacious and noble Halls of the Dead.
"Judge him, you Twelve, who sit before everliving Pharaoh Osiris!
For he has waged war,
He has upheld strife,
He has created the fiends,
He has worked magic against the innocent,
He has made slaughter.
Let him be given over to destruction,
And to the shackles of the goddess Serq."
As if from far away, she heard Harry cry, "No! Lily! We’ve got to get her out of the potion!" and crash to the floor. He’s trying to come to me, she thought. He mustn’t touch me! She could not pause in the incantation, but struggled on. Blaise was very still now, his chest no longer moving at all. He’s dead, then. Not fair. Hermione’s voice was thick, but she was still reciting with her:
"Let him be judged by the feather of Ma’at.
Let him pass over the threshold---"
Harry joined in at last, half a beat late, uttering the incantation as if every syllable caused him pain:
"Let his soul be devoured.
For the pure rise up to the throne of Isis,
But the souls of the wicked are consumed."
She could hardly whisper now. Harry was crying: sobbing out the incantation almost defiantly. Draco had been roused and was demanding to know what was happening. He sounded young and frightened. She herself felt very old. Where was Severus?
"I have spoken in truth,
I have spoken in truth,
I have spoken in truth,
Djedeni em Ma’at!"
She was becoming weightless. Severus was looking down at here, his face anguished and covered with dust, his robes heavy with the potion. She was rising up, and Blaise with her. We shared blood, it seems, from our wounds. I hope he’s not too angry. Voldemort was rising too, and they were hurrying down the great hall, down to the shining figure and her scales beyond, down to the green enthroned mummy and the waiting monster. She hardly noticed Tom Riddle, already looking quite different, fighting in vain against the power of Ma’at. Blaise touched her hand, and she felt alive and not hurt at all. She gave a look behind her and saw her friends, far, far away; and gave them a little wave of farewell.
Blaise was puzzled, but unafraid, and asked, "What happens now?"
She answered with a smile. "An awfully big adventure."
----
Hermione had curled up on the floor, and only gradually managed to sit up, supported by the steps. The incantation had taken all her strength, and when the last word was recited, she was knocked over again by the wind rushing into the rectangle of light on the shattered wall. The fluttering shapes surging through the lotus-pillared hall passed her by, leaving behind the whisper of their passing. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of the judges, but they were too intent on those coming before them to have time for her. She sat in a stupour of shock and grief, and tried to come to grips with what had happened.
Snape’s leg was broken, and he had crawled over to Lily only to see her leave forever. She and Blaise were small, bright figures, already in the distance. Lily turned and waved goodbye, and the door was closed.
The humming rose to a roar, and the house imploded. Every support, every load-bearing wall, every upright piece of the structure shook violently, and began the inexorable collapse.
Lupin stood first. He had pinned Harry to the floor, knowing that for him to touch Lily during the incantation was to share her fate. Harry painfully got his feet, wiping his eyes. He had lost his glasses, and saw Hermione in a blur. The floor shifted beneath their feet.
"Hermione!" he ran to her, looking her over. "Can you walk? I’ll get you out!"
Draco was shouting incoherently, hitting at his father, who grimly stunned him, and hefted him over his shoulder. The door to the garden was the closest, and he set off at a run.
"My wand!" Hermione remembered. "Accio wand!" It was scarred, but unbroken. She leaned against Harry, and saw Snape, still slumped on the floor, oblivious to the apocalypse around him.
"Harry! Professor Lupin! We’ve got to help him!" Snape looked up to see the werewolf approaching, and lashed out in rage.
"Don’t!" he snarled. "Leave me!" He was white-lipped with the pain, and too weak to resist when levitated away. Snape gave up the struggle and lay passively, shutting his eyes as he floated out of the crumbling Riddle House. Granger was doing most of the work, a small, warm hand on his head to protect him from crashing into wall or doorframe. The house groaned and screamed like a dying thing, but Snape was silent.
There was cool air up ahead, and the untainted smells of clean earth and frosty evergreen. They were going out into the moonlight, and leaving behind the smells of blood and decay, of dust and ashes, of myrrh and lotus. There were voices coming toward them; relieved voices anxious over their injuries, and exclaiming gratefully over their safety. Snape kept his eyes firmly shut, intent on retaining as long as possible the picture of a vast hall and a bright little figure, running away.
He longed to weep, but felt his heart more empty than a desert.
-----
Next chapter—The Order of Merlin. What is one to do in a world without Voldemort?