"Molly?” Arthur Weasley called from the sitting room. “Molly? Is there something wrong with Mr. Tibbles? He’s been pacing in front of the clock and mewling ““
“For a good ten minutes now. I know, Arthur,” Molly said. She moved her basket of folded towels to her hip and shook her finger at the cat. “I fed you. I fed you an hour ago. I’m not feeding you again. You’ll end up a spoiled paper weight ““
Molly’s scolding abruptly stopped. Arthur heard a dull thud and looked up from his book.
“Molly? Are you alright?” he asked. His wife wasn’t known for stopping mid-sentence. When no reply came, he pushed himself out of his chair and stepped into the kitchen.
He stopped at the sight of his wife, her mouth open, her face pale, the laundry basket, now empty, hanging from her white-knuckled hand. Half-folded towels covered the floor but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were focused on the face of the Weasley family clock.
Arthur followed her gaze and swallowed hard.
“I’ll contact Albus,” he said gravely and reached for his wand.
+++++
Ginny stamped her feet on the ground in an effort to keep warm. It might be spring “ almost summer, in fact “ but that didn’t make the night air any more comfortable. She noticed she wasn’t the only one in the group shivering slightly. Hermione was rubbing her hands up and down her arms, too. Ginny overheard her mutter something to Ron about wishing she had brought her gloves. Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drew her close and suggested she just transfigure something. Behind them, Neville and Joanna sat huddled close together on a rock, their eyes turned upward scanning the skies. Luna stood nearby, her gloved hand pointing out constellations “ some documented, others not.
A meter away, Tonks tugged her cloak closer as she listened to Remus. Bill held Fleur’s hand in one and extended the other to Lupin in greeting. Fred and George were sorting out supplies such as light sources. Nathan paced. Ginny grinned. Nathan always paced when he thought. All you had to do was take a class of his to realize he was at his best when he was moving. Plus, pacing kept him warm. Thinking this was a good idea, Ginny was just about to copy him when Harry approached.
“What’s up?” she asked, welcoming the warmth of his hug as he wrapped his arms and cloak around her.
“We’re just waiting on Percy,” Harry replied. He placed a soft kiss on the top of Ginny’s head. “Bill says these tunnels are a mess. It would be too easy to get lost in them permanently. We’ll wait a bit longer. After that…” Harry’s voice trailed off into the darkness.
“It’s too bad the tracking charm isn’t more specific,” Ginny sighed.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Harry gave her a squeeze. “The bond led us here. You were brilliant.”
“Thanks,” Ginny nodded into his jumper. “I just wish I could do more.”
“So are we just waiting?” Ron asked as he wandered over with Hermione.
“For a little while longer,” Harry nodded. “Bill said we need to give Percy time enough to find the map, get the map and then get here. So…probably another half hour.”
“An eternity for some,” Hermione murmured, her eyes trailing after Nathan as he wore the grass down.
++++++
Milton Blevins massaged the muscles in his neck. He could not even put into words how ready he was to hand this job over to someone else. In the Department of Magical Cooperation, people wanted to work things out. In this office, people just liked to tell you how it should be “ or shouldn’t be “ and then expected you, as Minister of Magic, to make it so. Milton liked cooperation and there was very little cooperation in this office.
Milton groaned as his fingers found the knot of stress living just under his skin. He had received word that morning that Amelia Bones had been found held captive in a home up north. She was dehydrated and disorientated, but the Healers in St. Mungos thought she would make a full recovery and be back to work in a few weeks. Milton had let out an undignified “Whoop!” drawing some very disapproving glances. He hadn’t cared. Milton glanced up as a shadow passed over his desk.
“Percy? Is that you?”
Percy cringed. He hadn’t thought about checking to see if the Minister was still here. It was after eight. Fudge never used to work this late. He stopped in the doorway of Blevins’ office.
“Good evening, Minister.”
“You’re here rather late. Isn’t it about time you headed home?” Milton asked, dropping his hands and surveying the state of disarray that was his desk. “Did you need something from me before you go?”
“Uh, no, sir, no, I don’t need anything,” Percy replied nervously.
Milton cocked an eyebrow at his assistant. Working with Percy over the past months, Milton had made a few observations. Percy was hard working, dedicated, loyal and intelligent. Percy wasn’t nervous.
“Percy, neither one of us would be here unless there was a good reason.”
“No, sir, I’m “ I’m just running late,” Percy replied honestly trying to assure him.
Milton shrugged. He was too tired to pursue this. “Fine,” he said and stood up behind his desk and stretched. Reaching down, he picked up his satchel and shoved some papers into it. He buckled it and slung it over his shoulder. “Don’t stay too late, Percy.”
“I won’t, sir,” Percy nodded, sat down at his desk and made a show of dipping his quill in his inkpot as the Minister left the office.
Percy waited a full two minutes, his quill poised over his parchment, dribbles of ink forming small puddles on it. His heart pounded as he checked his watch before quietly pushing himself back from the desk. He tip-toed to the office door and poked his head out. The corridor was empty. Cautiously, Percy headed down the hallway, keeping as close to the wall as possible as if that was going to hide him from view as he made his way to level two of the Ministry.
Percy slowly pushed the door to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement open. He held his breath and scanned the main room. Aurors assigned to the second shift were working diligently at their desks. Several of them looked up and nodded at Percy, recognizing him from meetings with the Minister. As their attention returned to their work, Percy breathed a sigh of relief. They didn’t think it odd for him to be here.
“Weasley!”
Percy jumped and his heart froze. He swallowed hard and turned to face Lewis Fielding.
“Fielding,” Percy greeted breathlessly.
“What are you doing here so late?” Lewis asked as he fastened the clasp of his cloak.
“Uh, I, ah, came to get the latest inventory reports,” Percy answered.
“Oh, right,” Lewis said and pulled the door to the office open. “They’re on my desk. Get them back to me tomorrow, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Percy answered. He placed his palm flat on the office door and helped it close behind Fielding. “Sure thing,” he repeated under his breath.
Percy casually walked around the side of the room to the back and stopped in front of a small door. He glanced over his shoulder and held his breath. Sweat began to form on his upper lip. Percy exhaled and pointed his wand at the door. The locks clicked open. As silently as he could, Percy turned the knob and slipped into the closet-sized map room.
File cabinets lined the walls, leaving a small path in the middle, just large enough for a wizard to enter, light his wand, and search the appropriate open drawer. Percy ran his fingers over the labels just above the drawer handles and searched for the proper drawer. He found it at the very bottom of the dusty cabinet shoved against the back wall of the room. Judging by the stray cob webs attached to the handles, Percy guessed it wasn’t one of the more frequently used cabinets.
Holding one hand under his nose to keep from sneezing on dust, Percy knelt before the drawer and grimaced slightly as his other hand clasped the webby drawer handle. He tugged. The drawer did not move. He tugged again. Nothing. Percy leaned back on his heels. He brushed his hand off on his robes and frantically thought of what kind of charms would be put on a map drawer. He picked up his wand and tried the few he could think of. He glanced over his shoulder each time to see if the noise had attracted anyone’s attention. Several spells later, the drawer still would not budge. He looked at his watch. He was running out of time. He growled and tried another spell. Still no luck.
“Merlin’s beard!” he swore.
Percy flung his wand down in frustration and grabbed the handle with both hands. He leaned backwards and gave it a good yank.
The drawer stuck for a moment, then, with a loud, creaky scrape, finally gave way. As the drawer moved, Percy’s grip slipped and his arms flailed. He fell back into another file cabinet with a heavy thud. Eyes wide, Percy held his breath and listened. No footsteps could be heard. He exhaled in relief. His lips curled into an excited smile as he pushed himself forward again. He just might pull this off.
+++++
“Albus! Albus!”
Dumbledore looked down the corridor to see Minerva McGonagall hurrying toward him.
“Did you find them, Minerva?”
Professor McGonagall stopped before the Headmaster and struggled to catch her breath. She shook her head. “They’re gone, Albus. Have they learned nothing? They don’t just go off and leave the castle without telling anyone! Do they want to be in detention for the remainder of the year?”
“Somehow, Minerva, I’m not sure detention will do much good,” Dumbledore replied and turned toward the Grand Staircase. “Come, Minerva. Let’s check all our options.”
Together, the two most revered professors in Hogwarts hurried to the first floor. Dumbledore motioned for Professor McGonagall to enter the Defense Against the Dark Arts room first.
“This is no time for propriety, Albus!” Minerva scolded and picked up her skirts.
“There is always time for propriety, Minerva,” Dumbledore replied as he climbed the steps to Nathan’s office.
“They’re not here, Albus,” Minerva observed as she entered the office.
Dumbledore slid around Nathan’s desk, his eyes immediately finding the parchment Nathan had tucked under his tea mug. Dumbledore unfolded it and read.
“What is it, Albus?” Minerva asked in a hushed tone.
Dumbledore refolded the parchment.
“Arthur was correct,” he answered quietly.
“Well, then,” Minerva replied clearly. “We had better get going.”
“Yes, we better,” Dumbledore nodded. He slipped the parchment into his robe pocket and followed Minerva out the door.
+++++
Nathan tapped the glass on his watch. Percy had five more minutes. Every bit of his rational sense held Nathan to the clearing in the forest where they gathered. Safety dictated they wait for the map. However, if he was honest with himself, his rational side was losing ground quickly to his irrational heart which screamed at him to get going. Impatiently, Nathan’s eyes traveled over the group of people waiting.
His eyes lingered on Harry, his arms and cloak wrapped around Ginny. In all his years, Nathan had never wished to have a bond. Growing up with a mother who was bonded to Tom Riddle did that to a son. But tonight, he would have given anything to be able to close his eyes and see if Anna and their baby were alive. He blinked at the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes and took a steadying breath.
A soft ‘Pop’ made him turn around. He held his breath as he saw moonlight reflect off a head of red hair.
“Percy,” he whispered thankfully.
“Did you get it?” Bill asked, striding past Nathan to his brother.
Percy nodded and held out the parchment.
Bill took the parchment and clapped Percy on the shoulder. “Good work.”
“I may not have a job tomorrow, though,” Percy admitted regretfully.
Bill chuckled. “It’s for a good cause, though.”
Percy sighed.
“Come on,” Bill urged. “Let’s see how we get in there.”
Bill unrolled the map and placed it on a nearby stone. His lit wand illuminated an intricate system of underground passageways below Stonehenge.
“The good news - we know where the main entrance is,” Bill proclaimed.
“The bad news?” Hermione asked.
“It’s exactly where everyone thinks it is,” Bill answered. “But then again, that probably means it’s the one Narcissa used because it is known - so that’s a good thing.”
“You’re talking in circles, Bill,” Tonks commented.
“Sorry,” Bill apologized. “The nineteen bluestones forming a horseshoe shape, here, open in the direction of the midsummer sunrise. When the sun rises over the Heel stone, it shines directly into the center of the monument, between the ends of the horseshoe, here,” Bill pointed at the map.
“So, where’s the entrance?” Hermione asked.
“Well, the Heel stone leans,” Bill explained. He placed his hands together and tilted them as a visual effect. “When it stands upright,” Bill straightened his hands, “an opening is exposed at the base.”
Hermione snorted. “I’m guessing that the leaning of the Heel stone wasn’t completely a product of time as believed by Muggles?”
Bill flashed Hermione a grin.
“Along with the Heel stone, there were four station stones originally placed around the circle,” Nathan contributed, “forming an exact rectangle with the Heel Stone. According to this, they all at one time had entrances associated with them. However, these two look to be inaccessible.”
“That would leave these two,” Bill said, holding his lit wand closer to the map to read the fine print. “Station Stones 92 and 94, according to the Muggle Maps “ oh, that was a side note from the mapmakers,” Bill said ruefully.
“Keeping in mind Anna’s pregnancy, Narcissa’s state of recovery, and the fact that Narcissa would most likely go with the popular choice,” Tonks commented, “my Galleons are on that entrance.” She pointed to the Heel Stone. “If she goes with what she knows, Narcissa and Anna are probably not far off the main passageway, so most likely in these areas.”
“Excuse me,” Joanna spoke up. “I don’t mean to ask a stupid question, but why don’t we just Apparate into the tunnels?”
“That’s actually a rather good question,” Bill answered. “The wards protecting the tunnels are very much like the wards that protect Hogwarts “ very old, very powerful and very rigid. No one can Apparate into the tunnels. This was partly due to the fact that the burial procedures for an elder involved a rather well-to-do parade to the final resting place so there was no need to Apparate. Also, it was believed that anyone who came later to pay his or her respects to the dead should use his or her time in the tunnels for reflection. A quick Apparation in was considered rather rude.”
“What about Disapparation?” Neville asked.
“Funny enough, you can Disapparate out of the tunnels but only out of two locations, those being the center of the burial chambers,” Bill explained. “The common understanding is that if a mourner had spent several hours in the tunnels getting to the appropriate chamber, he or she had had plenty of time to reflect and could leave with a clear conscience. That being said, it is believed the Disapparation ward is tied to the Heel Stone. The Heel Stone must be in place to Disapparate. If it’s moved, you’re stuck wandering the tunnels and most likely getting lost without a decent map.”
“Is it true the spirits talk to you in the tunnels?” Hermione asked thoughtfully.
Bill shrugged. “Rumor has it that yes, spirits close to the mourners who traveled the tunnels would, uh, visit them and guide them through the passageways.”
“Did the spirits belong to people who were buried in the tombs?” Hermione asked.
“Don’t know,” Bill answered honestly. “For the most part, mourners’ tales of spirits speaking to them have been chalked up to grief or hallucinations born out of delirium from wandering around down there too long.”
“That could be easily done,” Tonks whistled as she studied the map, “since, Merlin, there must be a good fifty kilometers of tunnel down there.”
“The passageways don’t go immediately to the two burial chambers, one at the east end, the other at the west,” Bill continued. “That would be too easy. The architects built them so you start out going in the direction you want to “ or toward the chamber “ then veer off under the moors, looping you around in total confusion. The path a mourner would take to the burial chamber depended on the importance of the elder. The more important the elder, the longer the path of reflection. Now, you’ll notice, all the paths intersect each other just to make things interesting. They also cross the main pathway which runs along the passageway of the sun “ east to west.”
“That’s a lot of reflection,” Joanna observed.
“And a lot of ground to cover if we’re wrong,” Ron commented.
“Then let’s be right,” Tonks said simply.
“Yeah,” Bill nodded. “Let’s be right.” Bill turned to Nathan. “You ready?”
Not entirely trusting his voice, Nathan simply nodded.
“Alright then,” Tonks said, “we’ll Apparate to here,” she indicated a spot near the Heel stone. “Joanna, are you all right side-Apparating with Neville? Hermione, can you take Luna? Good, let’s get going.”
The sounds of Apparation carried across the moor as the group relocated to the Heel Stone. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Nathan lit his wand and circled the stone.
“See anything?” Remus asked.
“Fresh dirt,” Nathan replied. He pointed to soil that appeared darker in the glow of his wand.
“Good.” Bill placed a reassuring hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “We’re going to find her. I don’t intend on breaking in another new boss anytime soon.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Nathan replied quietly.
“She’s a special one,” Bill shrugged. “And she owes me money. She said Swelf was married. He’s not. Confirmed bachelor. Took me a good forty-five minutes in that safe-box room to get the information out of him. Do you know how bad I smelled after that? My best dragon hide vest still stinks like rotten eggs. She owes me for an evening of Fleur not letting me near her.”
Nathan smiled weakly at Bill’s attempt to reassure him.
“We’re all here,” Tonks said stepping up to Bill.
“Right, then,” Bill said. “Let’s open this up.”
Bill pointed his wand at the leaning Heel stone and began to recite several spells in a language Harry did not recognize.
”It’s a Druid charm,” Ginny whispered into his ear.
“How’d you know that?” Harry whispered back impressed.
Ginny giggled. “I just heard Hermione tell Ron.”
Harry grinned at Ginny and felt the side of his face grow warm. Glancing up, he involuntarily took a step back as the Heel stone glowed white. The sound of the stone scraping against the earth was followed by the suction of dirt and rock battling for space as the stone straightened. The Heel Stone stilled and revealed an opening in the earth not much wider across than a roll of parchment.
“With a rock that size,” Ron observed, “I thought it would have been bigger.”
“For your soul, Ronald,” Luna comment seriously, “it would be.”
Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron beamed at Luna.
“Yeah,” Fred said, “you’d need the extra space for all the hot air that comes with it.”
“Wands at the ready,” Tonks called, cutting off Ron’s retort. “Lumos!”
One by one, the group descended into the hole. Fred motioned to Ginny that it was her turn. Ginny nodded and let go of Harry’s hand. She lit her wand and walked around the massive Heel stone which now balanced perfectly perpendicular to the ground.
“Careful, Ginny,” Fred held out a hand to stop her.
Ginny looked down over Fred’s arm and saw the toes of her shoes dangling precariously over the edge.
“No need to jump in,” George commented and handed her a light disk. “I’d suggest taking the stairs.”
Ginny grinned her thanks and took Fred’s offered hand. She started down the short, narrow steps into the tunnels, thankful she wasn’t claustrophobic. She shivered as the temperature dropped with each step. Hunching her shoulders in to keep them from brushing against the side walls, Ginny rubbed her hand across her heart and the tightness collecting there. Her lungs began to ache as she inhaled. She coughed on dirt. She stepped down unevenly and her heel hit a bump on the step, a rock maybe. She struggled for balance and slammed her elbows into the dirt walls, wedging herself in.
“You alright?” Harry asked from behind her.
“Yeah,” she replied, her heart in her throat. “I slipped.” She smiled as she felt a steadying hold on her elbows. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Harry said.
Ginny carefully edged her foot downward and searched for the next step with her toes. “Harry?” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Is “ is everything alright? I mean, I feel like something’s off.”
“Kind of like at our registration? At the Ministry?” Harry asked. His eyes followed the bouncing wand light in front of them.
“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Exactly. I can’t put my finger on it. You don’t suppose it’s “ it’s Anna?” she finished in a whisper.
Harry shook his head. He didn’t want to voice his opinion for fear of making it real. Then he realized Ginny couldn’t see his movements and smiled. He cleared his throat and tried not to choke on the dirt hanging in the air. “No, Gin, I don’t think it’s Anna.”
Harry winced as soon as he said that. His scar tingled. When had that begun? Had he missed it?
The glow from the wands began to disappear in front of them as the steps ended and the tunnel began. A wave of cold air brushed the back of Harry’s neck.
“Stop for a sec. Close your eyes and mouths down there,” Bill’s voice came from above.
A shower of dirt accompanied a dull, scraping sound, muted by the soil. A final sucking sound and the tunnel air became still.
“And that is what it’s like to be buried alive,” Bill’s voice floated over them.
“Nice way to keep up morale, Bill,” Fred called.
“Isn’t that our job?” George bantered back.
“And I can see why,” Fred replied.
“How far down is this?” George asked.
“No idea,” Bill answered.
“Aren’t you the man with the map?” Fred asked.
“Yup, but I’m no Druid and it’s a two dimensional map.”
“He’s more of Warlock with that hair,” George commented.
“Thank you, Mum,” Bill replied sarcastically.
“I happen to love hiz hair,” Fleur piped up from below.
Ginny giggled in the darkness as she took another step down. Her foot never found the next ledge. Without warning, a force dragged her under. It was sudden and quick, springing from her heart and pulling her. Sharpness bit into her skin and scraped her arms as she fell, her head banging on the steps, her nails clawing for a hold. Ginny had no idea how long she fell, but it seemed like forever until her feet slammed into the ground. Her knees buckled underneath her and she pitched forward into the floor.
Harry cried out as a searing pain pulled at his head and his heart. Ginny’s sudden fall pulled him forward, the top of his head banging against the low ceiling. Trying to catch himself, Harry lost hold of his wand and it clattered on the steps as it fell to the bottom. His hands grasped at nothing, his wrists bruising as they bounced off the top and sides of the stair case. His feet slipped and he slid down the remaining steps on his heels. He hit the ground and fell forward.
Ginny’s mind screamed for her to get up, but she couldn’t move. It was as if an invisible force was pushing her into the earth, wanting to bury her alive without digging a hole first. Ginny sucked in air. Fire burned her lungs while she shivered from cold. Her breathing labored, she pushed herself up off the ground.
Her stomach heaved as her heart pulled. She curled her shoulders inward as she tried to fold in on herself to stop the ache that was growing. She felt disoriented. Weakness washed over her. She reached out for the ribbons “ her ribbons, Harry’s ribbons - his ribbons “
Ginny’s eyes flew open. She coughed on a gulp of air. Frantically, she searched between the concerned faces standing over her.
“Ginny!” Hermione said, kneeling next to her. “Ginny!”
“Harry,” she croaked.
“No, Ginny, it’s Hermione ““
Ginny pushed Hermione out of the way. “Harry?”
Hermione stepped aside to reveal Ron helping Harry to his feet. Harry pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. He ignored Neville who held his wand out to him, and reached for Ginny’s hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, Harry fought to find their bond through the pain, to find the relief Ginny’s touch brought him. His eyes met Ginny’s and she whispered what he already knew.
“He’s here.”
+++++
“My lord, is something wrong?” Snape asked.
Voldemort’s head bowed and his hands rubbed his arms. Slowly, the Dark Lord lifted his head and his eyes glowed in the darkness. Snape involuntarily took a step back, hiding his crippled hand under his cloak. He willed himself to not turn away from the soulless look of evil triumph fixed on him.
“She’s here.”
“Anna Borgin?”
“No,” Voldemort breathed, “my bond.”
Snape averted his eyes.
“Call them, Severus.”
Snape inclined his head.
“Yes, my Lord.”
++++++
Nathan hissed as his hand clamped down on his forearm.
“Nathan?” Bill asked.
“He’s calling them,” Nathan said through clenched teeth. He glanced at Harry and Ginny. “He knows she’s here. He can feel her.”
“What do we do?” Fleur asked quietly.
“We can’t go back up,” Tonks said. “The stone is in place.”
“Can’t Voldemort move it?” Hermione asked worriedly.
“The ward I put in place will take some time to undo,” Bill said. “The other two entrances, I can’t do a thing about until I see them. I suggest we get going.”
“No!” Ginny exclaimed, struggling to her feet. “We have to go back up.”
“Now?” Ron asked.
“If he’s here,” Ginny argued, “we have to go do it.”
“You can’t,” Nathan broke in.
“We can find Anna when we’re done!” Ginny snapped.
“Ginny, it’s not that,” Nathan said softly. “You don’t have the circlet.”
Ginny felt her cheeks warm. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I didn’t think ““
“No, Ginny, it’s alright,” Nathan assured her.
“Where is the circlet?” Hermione asked.
Ginny uncertain eyes sought Harry’s. “Dumbledore has it. He said it would be here when we needed it.”
Harry nodded slowly as he remembered another time, another chamber, another meeting with Tom Riddle.
“It will be.”
++++
The circle began to form to the side of the northern station stone. One by one Voldemort’s faithful Apparated to his point of calling. The hooded figures stood waiting, curious and excited, in the silence of the night. Much like the stone circle towering over them, there were conspicuous holes left empty.
Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of the circle, his eyes glowing with anticipation. His breath, cloudy in the cool night air, swirled above his head. His followers watched and waited.
“Those of you who were detained, you are wise to return,” Voldemort nodded at Dolohov, Avery and Jugson. “Some of you waited longer, than others.” Yaxley took a step back.
“Tonight is mine,” Voldemort hissed into the darkness. “I will bring full circle what was started only a few short months ago, and once I do, no one will question who should be followed.”
“Bring the Weasley chit to me alive,” Voldemort ordered, his eyes peering under the hoods of the figures.
“My lord,” Snape spoke up, “what about Potter? If she’s here, he will be as well.”
“Yes, he will be,” Voldemort nodded in satisfaction. “Bring him to me “ alive.” A flash of silver in Voldemort’s grasp reflected the moon. Snape kept his expression bland as he watched the Dark Lord hold up his palm and run the blade across it. Voldemort’s lips curled as the blood beaded. He closed his hand into a fist and held it above his head, droplets of blood falling to the grass. “I think Potter should witness a true blood bonding before he dies, don’t you?”
Dropping the blade on the ground, Voldemort turned back to the circle of his followers. “Move the stone,” he growled.
+++++
“Why aren’t we going down that one?” Molly whispered and pointed at the Heel stone. “Bill’s Patronus said they went down the Heel Stone. If we go down that one, we’ll find them!”
“Now, Molly ““
“Albus!”
“My apologies, Molly,” Dumbledore replied. “Bill placed wards and repelling charms around the Heel Stone to keep others from going down there. He did not tell us what those were. It would take valuable time for us to try and figure out what exactly he did.”
“So it’s better to waste time down there, possibly lost in the tunnels?” Molly snapped.
“We won’t be lost, Molly,” Dumbledore assured her.
“The soil indicates that this stone has been moved recently,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said.
“The more time we waste up here, the more time Voldemort has down there,” Moody growled.
Arthur placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Molly looked up into his eyes. She trusted what she saw there with all her heart. Arthur squeezed her shoulder, a sign he understood her dilemma. She inhaled and gave a slight nod of acceptance. When she released her breath, Molly wished she could release some of her anxiety, too. But she was a mother. She knew better than to expect that.
“I’ve removed the excuses for repelling charms on the station stone,” Moody growled at Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Move the stone while I alert the Ministry. We’re going to need back-up.”
++++
Kingsley Shacklebolt lead the group down the passageway, his posture slightly stooped so as to not knock his head on the ceiling. No one spoke. The light from their wands cast shadows down the corridor as they crept through the tunnels. It was impossible to know how long they had been down there. Time stopped in tombs.
The tunnels twisted like veins under the earth and their progress was slow. Periodically, Shacklebolt would check back with Dumbledore, perform several seeking charms, and wait for results before the small group would continue.
Molly kept a tight reign on her emotions. Her maternal instinct pitched a fit with every delay and every dead end. But, as Arthur pulled her forward, his hand encircling hers, she told herself they were doing what was best. They were pursuing Voldemort. They were going to stop him from getting to her children. They were going to get to him first. Molly sniffled and picked up her pace only to almost run into Arthur’s back. She looked around her husband to see why he had stopped so suddenly. In front, Kingsley’s hand was raised as he stood, still as the air in the tunnels.
“Someone’s coming,” Moody growled.
“The others?” Arthur asked.
“No,” Dumbledore answered quietly.
“We can’t go back,” Moody observed.
“No,” Dumbledore agreed, “we can’t.”
“Split up,” Kingsley ordered. “Arthur, Molly “ take that passage. Alastor and I will go to the next. Minerva, you and Albus ““
“I will go ahead,” Dumbledore interrupted, stepping forward.
“Albus, is that wise?” McGonagall whispered.
“Yes - it is,” Dumbledore said in a tone that left no room for questions.
Molly stepped close and touched Dumbledore’s sleeve with her hand. Dumbledore covered it and squeezed gently. “Go.”
Molly nodded and followed her husband into the nearby passageway to wait.
Dumbledore stepped forward, his wand unlit. The light was really unnecessary. Power lured him forward, its intensity tangible as it swelled to fill the underground space. Ten “ twenty steps away from the others, Dumbledore stopped. Into the silence, he spoke.
“Hello, Tom.”
A collective hiss emerged from the darkness. Feet scrambled to find unnecessary hiding spots. Dumbledore heard several travel down tunnels, away from where he stood.
“I have not been Tom for a long time.”
“No…you haven’t,” Dumbledore replied quietly.
“This time you are not going to keep me from what is mine.”
“She will never be yours,” Dumbledore answered evenly.
“You are wrong, Dumbledore,” Voldemort taunted, a red glow emitting from the end of his wand. “She already is.”
A blood red stream shot into the darkness. Dumbledore flicked his wand. A bright blue light illuminated the few short meters separating him from Voldemort, deflecting the spell into the tunnel wall. Dirt and stone flew into the space. The air was clogged with dust and grime.
“There really is no good place to hide in here, is there,” Dumbledore observed mildly.
From the darkness a slithering snake of light cut a trail through the dirt toward the Headmaster’s robes. A shot of sparks sliced the serpent in two, sending it wriggling in confused circles.
“I will have her and she will give me Potter,” Voldemort hissed. His wand delivered a stream of green light toward Dumbledore’s heart.
Dumbledore side stepped with the agility of a wizard a third his age. The curse exploded on the ground and fizzled when it found no human fuel to burn its magic. The tunnel air was thick with power. Dumbledore’s chest ached as he filled his lungs with the polluted air. He swallowed and cleared his throat.
“You can’t get to him in here, you know. The spirits, his mother, his father, his godfather all of them will protect him in here. As they will protect her.”
Light exploded above Voldemort’s head. The tunnel fell, a landslide of earth giving into the weight of gravity. Voldemort scrabbled forward. Dumbledore flung out his hand, a shield forming from his fingertips which deflected the Dark Lord’s mass. Voldemort screamed as electricity burned his flesh in a binding of electric wire. Voldemort rolled over the shield, tearing himself off it. He weaved around the Headmaster and caught himself on the wall.
A flash of light from another spell battle several meters down the tunnel illuminated Voldemort from behind. Dumbledore watched as Tom closed his eyes briefly, seeking inner strength. Tom seemed to heal before his eyes from the inside out. Another flash and Dumbledore saw the straightness of the shoulders, the stiffness of the spine, the strength radiating from the wizard who called himself the Dark Lord.
Dumbledore smiled as he heard the first notes.
Now, he nodded silently.
“You are wrong, Dumbledore,” Voldemort spoke strongly, satisfaction dripping from every word, “I can get to Potter anywhere.”
Voldemort’s wand sparked as he held up his hand, the clotted blood reflecting the light as it came closer. He hissed as he touched his wand to the blood.
“You see, I understand how the bond works, Dumbledore. Right now, somewhere in the bowels of this forsaken graveyard, my bond “ my blood bond “ is writhing in pain and there is nothing Potter can do about it except stand above her and say, ‘There, there, dear.’ ”
“Perhaps I have underestimated you, Tom,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Perhaps you have finally learned that there are worse things in life…than death.”
The air moved against Voldemort’s face. He saw the flash of red and felt the softness in the air. Rage boiled in him as he brandished his wand.
”AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Fawkes swooped, his beak open to intercept the stream of green light, but Dumbledore threw himself forward, his arm flinging upward, sending the Phoenix off course. Fawkes’ wings beat down as he circled.
Dumbledore arched backward, the force of the Unforgivable spell filling his body. His mouth froze open in a roar of pain as bright, white light pushed against the green. Waves of magic radiated from Dumbledore’s body as his spirit was released. Power flooded the passageway and sunk into the dirt. Waves began to ripple as the energy dispersed. Balance shifted and the earth quaked.
The tunnel floor, walls and ceiling rippled as Voldemort searched the air for Fawkes. He shot sparks, bright and desperate into the air. Whirling around, he stumbled and his feet hit a solid object. He looked down at the lifeless body of Albus Dumbledore.
His hand on the wall to steady himself against the moving earth, Voldemort reached down and grabbed Dumbledore’s wand from his hand, stepped over his body and did not look back.
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Anna rolled over and tried to spit dirt out of her mouth. Hard to do when you have no saliva to spit, she thought ruefully.
“Hey, that’s my kidney, not a bludger,” Anna whispered hoarsely to her baby, as a foot - or was it an elbow? - made contact with one of her inner organs. “Then again, if you’re kicking, you must be alright,” Anna whispered gratefully.
Anna shifted her weight and hissed. Her back felt as if it were on fire. She felt newly scabbed over scrapes tear apart. Blood seeped onto her shirt. Carefully, she shifted onto her other side. A sharp, hard, pointed object bit into her shoulder. Anna moved to the left and the poke disappeared. She tried to straighten her cramped legs but couldn’t. Her ankles were bound, as were her wrists, with stiff, sturdy rope that cut into her raw skin. Conserving her energy, Anna stopped moving.
It was dark and cold and damp. Anna smiled weakly as her father’s voice floated through her mind.
Feels like home, doesn’t it, Anna Beth?
Her father had always seemed a bit lost above ground.
Anna blinked into the blackness. She wasn’t panicked. She was alive. Her baby was alive. These were good things. And, truth be told, she liked being underground. Granted, she preferred being untied and standing up while underground, but these were minor details. Anna laughed, a slightly hysterical, hollow sound, deadened by the dirt walls. The sound faded and was replaced by a debate of thoughts and instructions inside her head.
Come on, Borgin. This is training 101.
Stay calm.
Focus on the positive.
Focus on the positive? You will never find that in any goblin training manual!
It can’t hurt.
Fine. Think positive and get your bearings.
I’m underground. Again.
You are your father’s daughter.
Yes, I am!
“You are what?”
Anna sucked in her breath as the snarl cut into her thoughts.
“I am my father’s daughter,” Anna repeated, her voice scratchy from hours of inhaling dirt and dust with no water to wash it down. “Who are you?”
No answer came from the darkness. A flickering blue light appeared across the dirt wall and bounced. Anna craned her neck around to see, but couldn’t. Her visitor knew to stay just far enough away. Anna heard shuffling and the dropping of a something onto the ground “ a sack, maybe? She heard the voice mutter something and a moment later, a torch was lit, sending strands of light into the tunnel. Anna blinked. Her eyes strained to adjust so she could see who was there. In the dimness, Anna saw pale long hair and a flash of an eye patch.
“Hello, Narcissa,” Anna rasped.
“Be quiet!” Narcissa snapped. She dropped a bag against the wall and reached in for a linen wrapped bundle.
Anna watched Narcissa settle herself on the ground and pull her cloak tightly around her body. Narcissa rested the bundle in her lap and unwrapped it. Involuntarily, Anna’s mouth opened at the sight of a hunk of bread. She almost groaned as she watched Narcissa lean over and pull a wineskin from her sack, unscrew the top and lift it to her lips. Anna clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to keep from making a sound.
To keep her mind off her stomach, Anna began to think. Narcissa Malfoy. Why would Narcissa Malfoy be sitting in some forgotten underground tomb with me having a snack?
Anna didn’t remember getting here. One moment she’d been outside Gringotts, the next…well, she hadn’t had any human contact for a while. It was difficult to keep track of time down here. Judging by her lightheadedness and the emptiness of her stomach though, Anna had to guess she had been here at least twelve hours. Maybe longer.
“Tit for tat, Narcissa?” Anna croaked. “Nathan takes Lucius, you take me?”
Narcissa paused, a piece of bread halfway to her mouth. “You have no right to ask me questions,” she hissed and looked straight ahead.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You brought me down here to become rat food. I think that gives me the right.”
Anna could see Narcissa’s fingers curl around a wand. Anna narrowed her eyes. That was her wand and a few more pieces fell into place.
The Dark Lord doesn’t know Narcissa is here. This wasn’t his plan. If it had been, Narcissa would have her own wand. She escaped St. Mungos and then somehow escaped from him. Can’t imagine that would make the Dark Lord all that happy.
“Does he know you have me? Not that he’d really care. I don’t mean anything to him. But I’m guessing since you’re hiding down here with me you probably “ “
“Quiet!”
With disgust, Narcissa threw the bread into the dirt. Anna’s mouth watered but she held herself still. A scurry could be heard by her feet. She felt bristle brush fur sweep by her tied hands and she shuddered. The bread moved. Anna shifted her eyes away from the rat and its feast. Her eyes caught Narcissa swiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A nervous gesture for a woman who supposedly had the upper hand. Anna kept pressing her advantage.
“Nathan will find me, Narcissa,” Anna said with an air of confidence. “And when he does ““
“You know nothing,” Narcissa spat. “No one will find you in the Solstice Tombs.”
Anna’s mind swirled. “We’re under Stonehenge?”
“I told you to be quiet!” Narcissa snapped.
Anna began to laugh. “You know my parents mapped these tunnels, don’t you?” she taunted.
“QUIET!” Narcissa roared and drew her foot back.
Instinctively, Anna pulled her legs up just in time to catch the solid force of Narcissa’s boot on her kneecap. She grunted in pain and awkwardly rolled over as Narcissa kicked again. Anna closed her eyes and slammed her mouth shut. She exhaled through her nose. She felt dirt and small pebbles bite into her skin. She waited for more, but it didn’t come. Slowly, she opened her eyes a slit. Narcissa had turned back to her bag.
“I may not mean anything, but the people who care about me mean a great deal,” Anna whispered hoarsely. “But you know that, don’t you.”
Narcissa didn’t turn around. Anna coughed to clear her throat before she continued, an internal force driving her to push Narcissa for as much information as she could get. The more Anna knew, the better her chances of survival. “You’re hiding down here with me because you’ve disobeyed Tom. On top of that, if you go above, the Ministry will throw you in Azkaban. I’d say you’ve really dug yourself quite a hole, Narcissa.”
Narcissa whirled around. Anna curled up like a Pill Bug as Narcissa aimed her wand. But the spell never came. A rumbling filled Anna’s ears, a guttural growl from beneath the surface of the earth. She felt the floor of the tunnel move, throwing her feet up and her head down. She rolled onto her back. She saw Narcissa, stumble backward, losing her footing and falling into the wall. Then, she heard a crack from above, as if someone had snapped a dry branch in two.
Anna knew what that crack meant. It was the last sound her parents had heard before the ceiling of the tomb they were working in had collapsed. On instinct, Anna scrambled backward, pushing herself up the wall. Narcissa launched herself off the ground, Anna’s wand pointed at Anna’s feet.
”CRUCIO! Narcissa cried.
Anna screamed as the Unforgiveable penetrated the ropes and sunk into her skin, pain radiating up her calves. Panting, Anna stumbled forward, her legs numb and aching. She realized her ropes were off. The curse “ the curse cut the ropes. She looked down at her free feet and saw a pale claw reaching toward her ankle. In one swift move, Anna shoved her foot out, her boot connecting with Narcissa’s face. A sickening crunch was followed by Narcissa’s screech of agony as Anna’s heel shoved Narcissa’s nose into her skull. Anna swung her foot around and leapt forward, her tied hands feeling her way down the tunnel. She heard the second crack. Her knees buckled as the earth rose up under her. Instinctively, Anna curled her bound hands around her stomach and ran, head down, into the darkness.
To Be Continued...
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A/N - My apologies on the delay for these next chapters. Life interferred with my hobby. :) One reason this chapter in particular took so long was I spent many a night reading up on Stonehenge. Much like my Merlin addition to the story, this is a mix of fact and imagination. I hope you enjoy it.
Many thanks to my betas Anya and wvchemteach, too!
Thank you for your patience. Happy Reading!