Author’s Note: Okay, this chapter is dedicated to every reviewer, because you've all waited so very long for this update. I had to write this chapter in pieces, as it was very emotionally and creatively draining. I had to be very careful, as it’s such a vital installation to the plot” which, I strongly feel is only beginning to be exposed. ;) Oh, and whoever can interpret Hermione’s dream gets a cookie. Small hint: her initial reaction when Harry wakes her says it all.
Radiant Eclipse
And in this deed, I’ll pay the price
For all the damage I have done
Tonight the sacrifice has begun…
Close your eyes or look away,
Fate exposed, won't let me stay
Hope will fall tonight with broken wings,
Descending entity in me.
The next morning did not dawn, but instead seeped through with damp, grey light which was further diluted from the thick canopy above.
Harry rolled over in his cot, restlessly waiting for everyone else to wake. But he’d already been lying there for hours, and could take no more procrastination. If Ron was there, he already felt guilty enough for the less than two hours of sleep he’d gotten.
Pulling on his jacket, Harry strode silently across the tent to Hermione. She was lying flat on her back, her brow knitted as soft moans of horror escaped her sleeping lips.
“Hermione,” he whispered, bending low. “Hermione, wake up…”
Her eyes flung open in terrified panic, searching Harry’s face without really registering that she was no longer in her nightmare.
“Tell me why! Is it me?!” she asked hysterically, clutching Harry’s arm.
“You’ve been dreaming,” he breathed, pulling back her hair from her lightly perspiring face. “It was only a nightmare, no one’s here.”
Hermione’s eyes shifted nervously around the room before her chest lifted and fell heavily in a deep sigh. Licking her lips, she swallowed hard before peeling back the covers.
“Oh Harry, it was awful,” she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat upright. “There were dementors everywhere… far too many, possibly hundreds… and they”” her gaze shot up to meet his. “”they took your soul,” she whispered miserably, “…and were coming for mine… and when its mouth opened to perform the kiss… I saw you inside… your eyes, and” and you were so sad,” she finished, her voice breaking with a sudden sob.
“Why were you sad, Harry?” she asked suddenly, pulling gently on his collar.
Amazed and bewildered, Harry blinked several times before answering. “Well I reckon because I’d just had my soul sucked out of me…”
“No,” she breathed quietly, surveying the floor, “…that wasn’t why.”
Harry stared at her with troubled, uncertain eyes. It was only a dream, and he couldn’t understand why she was finding such meaning in it.
Standing up, he held out his hand and tried forcing something of a smile. “Come on,” he said bracingly, “Let’s wake the others.”
----------------------------
They tread through the woods, the wind whipping their flushed faces as they encountered the great chasm Harry and Hermione had observed the night before.
They flew over it on their brooms, and though Harry knew it was pointless, he flew extremely quickly, feeling as if the black abyss would suck him down if he wavered over it too long.
They continued to fly for another half mile before Lupin ushered them to the ground.
“We’re getting near the center,” he told them, running a hand through his hair. “This stream here”” he motioned towards a snaking line of glistening water, “”I’ve heard of it, it runs into a small lake in the middle of the island. We’ll just keep following it on foot; if anyone’s here, they’ll see us sooner if we go by broom.”
He then waved his wand spectacularly through the air, causing a great, silver patronus to stream from its tip and gallop off through the trees, presumably to alert the other group of their location.
After hiding their brooms in large, lofty bushes, Lupin began tracing the thin stream through the labyrinth of trees. The sticker bushes cut through Harry’s pants and into his skin as he attempted to blast away bramble and thickets. Hermione followed directly behind, one hand fastened to his jacket, as Ginny and Tonks trailed at the back.
After long, torturous minutes, the stream began to widen. Trees became scarce and thin tributaries branched off and coalesced with other shimmering torrents.
Harry’s stomach clenched uneasily. He watched the water swell around him, knowing they were reaching the center, and could not fend off the sudden dread which pushed at the back of his throat.
Turning around, he met Hermione’s eyes. Her gaze became perplexed but consoling as his unreadable expression blanketed his features.
“We’re here,” Lupin whispered, leaning over to peer through overgrowth. They were standing just on the edge of the forest” beyond them, naught but rolling hills. “Now listen, we must stick together. The idea is to search the grounds, not make ourselves known, so don’t use any magic that might get us noticed.”
“Noticed by who?” said Ginny, quirking an eyebrow and casually plucking a leaf. “Seems to me we’re alone on this rock.”
Lupin began to respond, and Harry started to cut him off with his own remark, but he barely had time to register Ginny’s defensive glare before a distant, looming sensation pressed hard at his temples.
Blinking rapidly, he brought his hand to his chest and looked around with morbid suspense.
“Harry? Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked cautiously, her eyes anxious.
“D’you feel that?” said Harry, so quietly the rest strained to hear. A forceful wave of depression swept powerfully over him. “It’s as if” no… no, it can’t be…”
“Harry you’re scaring me, what’re you talking about?”
“DOWN, ALL OF YOU!” Lupin suddenly shouted, pushing Harry and Hermione back with one arm.
Billowing black shrouds mysteriously swooped from the sky. Long, dark cloaks followed like scorching, opaque smoke as they surrounded the group, Hermione’s gasp audible over the thundering in Harry’s ears.
Then suddenly, his breath caught in his chest as a swift wave of wretched sorrow twisted in the pit of his stomach.
“DEMENTORS!” Lupin yelled as he moved into view, his wand already unsheathed.
Moody cast a patronus, but it only fended off one angle. It was impossible to see them through the trees, they were pelting from every direction, so lethal Ginny was already looking faint.
Pushing himself from the ground, Harry stood and shouted, “Expecto Patronum!”
A large, glowing stag shot out from his wand and charged the suffocating mass of black, and for the briefest of moments Harry thought it was over.
But then a powerful gust of wind tore through the air, knocking Lupin sideways. Harry struggled to keep his eyes open in the fierce bluster as he pointed his wand wildly into the sky, screaming Expecto Patronum despite that no dementors were visible.
“Harry, watch out! Come back here!” Hermione hollered hysterically, but Harry couldn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears.
Then without warning, a loud, piercing sound, like that of thunder, shook the ground. Forcing his eyes open, Harry saw a band of dark, masked figures marching over the nearest hill, steadily towards him: Death Eaters.
Looking around frantically, he recognized that only he was out in the open, on he was visible. Lupin had been knocked into shadow, safely hidden with the others in thick overgrowth of the forest.
Through the gales of wind and swift jolts of thunder, Harry met Hermione’s eyes. They were possessed with deep anxiety, pleading wordlessly that he jump to her” to safety.
“HARRY, get back here!” Moody shouted angrily from beneath the low canopy of thorns. “There’s too many, we’ll not take them until the others arrive!”
Harry looked back to Hermione, but her eyes had clouded over with a different emotion. She glared at him with hard fortitude, her brow tense and furious.
Harry knew what she was going to do.
Suddenly leaping out from her crouched position, Hermione’s outstretched arms made to grab at Harry and pull him down, but before she reached him, he had his wand pointed at her chest. If he ducked for cover, if she pulled him down, the Death Eaters would know where they were hiding. They would all die.
Harry cursed her with a forceful blow that shoved her back in place, an unapologetic gleam in his eye.
He didn’t wait to see if she was okay. Ignoring Lupin’s angry pleas, he dashed out and ran headlong at the oncoming Death Eaters.
Unsheathing his wand with vehement force, Harry cursed the nearest cloaked figure, watching it tumble down the steep hill. Screaming, Harry blasted away two more as he dodged the dozens streams of light flying at him.
But there were at least fifteen, he was completely alone, and it happened within seconds” the jerking sensation in his bones, the twitch of his muscles. And suddenly, before he could retaliate or before Lupin or anyone else could come to the rescue, he fell and landed hard in the grimy dirt, frozen in position.
Unable to even blink, his eyes frantically scanned the sky, horror coursing painfully through him as a Death Eater kicked him over and he saw Hermione’s stricken face running towards him, her wand shooting violent jets of blue.
Lupin and Moody had also dashed out from the forest, splashing through the murky stream as they reached Hermione’s side.
Harry’s heart sunk with a deep burn.
But before he could watch any of them advance on the Death Eaters, an excruciating throb penetrated Harry’s spine. He felt his body being thrust away from the fight, like a magnet was pulling roughly on his vertebral column.
He was being dragged across the ground, over the hilltop, until his body lifted high into the air and began twirling grotesquely like a spiraling football.
Then as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.
Harry’s frozen eyes were speckled with dirt. His stomach twisted painfully, nausea and faintness rising in his chest and pressing hotly against his throat.
But his limbs had regained movement. Miraculously, his muscles obeyed his command, and though his head continued to swim in a violent stream of pain, every fiber of his body eased into relaxation.
Craning his neck, Harry blinked the dirt from his eyes and peered around him in silent caution. It was quiet and still. He’d landed quite a distance from the battle, and could faintly hear the curses and screams in the background” the only feeble evidence of the heated fight.
Fifty yards to his left was the lake they’d been trying to reach; around him, nothing but dead grass and steep, ominous hills. The forest was completely diminished here, and he knew, even if he hadn’t noticed the tall, bulky towers of rock and metal which joined to create the cells of Azkaban prison, that he’d reached the center of the island.
Rolling over onto his back, he rushed to wipe his glasses clean before jumping to his feet.
But before he could move, a loud shriek tore through the air and echoed off the distant tiers of Azkaban’s hollow cellblocks.
Jerking in the direction from which he’d been dragged, Harry’s feet dug into the ground, his legs pumping furiously as he ran back towards to fight.
But he didn’t make it five feet.
A cold, raspy voice drawled, “Leaving so soon? I was under the impression you were taught better manners.”
Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
“Dumbledore was always such a fool for the niceties of warfare. So predictable in his beliefs that war does, in fact, harbor rules,” mused the bitter voice. “One could say it was his… downfall.”
Harry turned around, his heart pumping brutally, and faced two cold, red eyes.
“Not surprised, I see,” said Voldemort, a deathly smirk stretching his thin, white lips. “No, for all the things you may be… unintelligent is not among them… Yet I hardly think you fit to be called my equal,” he suddenly spat, his pale face growing maniacal with hate.
Harry clutched his wand fiercely, blood pounding in his ears. For a moment he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it was him, but then” Harry’s eyes narrowed. Had he just said ‘equal’” ?
“Yes, I know of the prophecy… does it really surprise you? Severus tells me you’ve long suspected him, says you were never quite as trusting as your dear mentor,” Voldemort sneered with a mirthless laugh.
Harry’s muscles tensed. His limbs felt cold and numb, his eyes glassy as they bore violently into the fiery red ones before him.
Voldemort jeered at Harry’s expression, his smile spiteful and vindictive. Raising his wand, he shot green sparks into the air. Within seconds Wormtail appeared, limping to his master’s side. And next to him, gagged and being dragged through the dirt by a thick, rusty chain, was Ron.
Harry’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. Sick horror squirmed mercilessly inside him, but his jaw set intensely as he returned to fixing his glare on Voldemort.
“Such a brave boy, to come all this way for a friend… to abandon your responsibilities and put everyone at risk for your selfish desire to play the hero,” Voldemort sneered.
Fire burned deeply in Harry’s chest.
But behind Voldemort, several long, black cloaks were approaching. Standing beside Wormtail, they guarded their Lord with raised wands.
Ron was lying face down, unmoving.
“He knows you, Harry, Lupin had said. This is what they do, you must realize that by now. They took Ron for a reason… they won’t kill him. They need him…
Harry swallowed hard and lifted his head. “What is it you want?”
Voldemort grinned, making his face appear more shallow and thin. “I want to ensure the prophecy never comes to pass.”
Harry was breathing heavily and his face contorted into mild confusion, though he tried to mask it.
Voldemort continued to sneer, cool hatred evident in the lines of his face. “You would have been proud of your Headmaster, Harry… for he never divulged to Severus what it was the prophecy contained, despite his greatest efforts to gain Dumbledore’s trust. Oh yes,” he chuckled nastily, speaking in slow, deliberate syllables, “it was quite the challenge, I confess… which was made all the more difficult by the unfortunate events at the Department of Mysteries… shattered to pieces before I could so much as hold it,” he finished quietly, his voice a raspy whisper.
He took a step closer to Harry, his eyes narrowing viciously as he surveyed the lightening bolt scar. “But Dumbledore proved accommodating in the end,” he continued, his slit-like nose flaring grotesquely. “He was quite fond of magical instruments… used them frequently, to organize his thoughts… and did not take care to keep as close an eye on Severus as perhaps he should have,” he glowered lucidly. “It only took a distraction in the form of my Death Eaters” which young Draco Malfoy provided” to allow Severus the time to extract the memory of Dumbledore hearing the prophecy from his pensieve…”
Harry’s heart pumped even more furiously, his head spinning. It couldn’t have been that easy” that simple” Snape couldn’t get into Dumbledore’s office, no one could, he’d witnessed Umbridge try in fifth year”
“Your thoughts betray you, Harry, I am disappointed… are you really that concerned with the specifics?”
Legilimency.
Hurriedly, Harry made to block his thoughts, release his memories, but Voldemort only laughed coldly and tilted his head to meet Harry’s eyes.
“It is no use, spare me your pitiful efforts of resistance,” he snickered lowly, watching Harry’s face. “I do not mind telling you… Severus was aware of the plans… he planted himself in Dumbledore’s office before the two of you went on your ridiculous search for one of my Horcruxes. Not a difficult feat, considering how completely the old fool trusted him,” he spat.
Harry tried wrapping his mind around all of this, but his heart was straining painfully and his head was swimming with more thoughts and emotions than he could handle. Sweat glistened along his hairline, dripping into his eyes and stinging them glaringly. He blinked away the pain, and when he was finally able to refocus on Voldemort, found that he was holding Ron by the chain around his neck.
Instinctively, Harry jumped forward, Ron’s pale, unmoving face causing his breath to catch in his throat, but Voldemort yanked his body back forcefully, Ron’s limbs gangling like a rag doll.
“Patience,” he whispered wickedly.
But Harry could no longer take it. Every feeling he’d been bottling up, every emotion he’d experienced in the last five months, exploded inside him like liquid fire.
“LET HIM GO!” he shouted, his fear vanishing.
Voldemort looked triumphant. “Very well,” he snarled, “I will let him go… unharmed… if you agree to lend me your soul.”
Harry’s breathing intensified, his angry confusion evident on his face. “What?”
“For the spell to work, you must be willing, you stupid boy… so I will make the trade. His life for your consent.”
Harry’s rage kept him from speaking. He looked from Ron to Voldemort, from Voldemort to Wormtail, unable to force words from his mouth.
Voldemort looked casual as he began pacing around Harry, dragging Ron with him. “He is the one you would miss the most, is he not? The Triwizard Tournament revealed your vulnerability for your friends, Harry… and the prophecy says one of us must kill the other… yet I rather thought using you to bear part of my soul would be much more efficient,” he smirked. “A human Horcrux, if you will… did you know the first ever Horcruxes were living creatures?”
His eyes lit up with sadistic glory. “Oh yes, very ingenious magic… for even when all other parts of the soul are destroyed, the one within the living creature manifests into the soul’s owner… Do you not see the brilliance?” he asked wildly, his eyes blazing with bitter victory. “If part of my soul resides in you, I can never die” For even if you managed to destroy me and all my other Horcruxes, I shall live on in you… and manifest once more into Lord Voldemort… it is infallible…”
His voice had taken on a maniacal tone as his widened eyes flashed dangerously with flagrant malevolence.
The dark figures in the background drew nearer, their stride slow and measured as they surrounded Voldemort and Ron.
Harry vaguely registered that the sounds of the far-off battle had dissipated. With pessimistic dread, he wondered unbearably if Hermione had made it.
“I’ll not wait forever,” Voldemort spat loudly, lunging towards Harry with surprising agility. “The choice is a simple one””
“You’ll wait,” he said between gritted teeth, anger flooding through him, “as long as I need you to. You can’t do this without my permission, so I’d appreciate it if you’d show a bit of… patience.”
Voldemort’s sneer wiped clean off his face. He stood to full height and looked down at him, his eyes burning through him. Harry’s scar prickled, but he did not let it show.
“Foolish boy,” he whispered icily, his face moving in closer to Harry’s. “You dare to command me””
“Who’s R.A.B?” Harry asked suddenly, interrupting Voldemort again. His heart sunk with the continually forming realization of what he’d have to agree to. He wasn’t sure if he was being smart by pressing for information, or simply buying time from the inevitable. “Didn’t fancy you much either, did he?”
Voldemort’s breathing grew visibly labored as his eyes cut deeply into Harry’s. His thin nostrils flared rapidly as he reached out a long hand and scraped the side of Harry’s face with his sharp fingernails.
Harry did not so much as wince.
“Your courage will be the end of you Potter,” Voldemort hissed. “You are reckless, and it shows in the number of loved ones you’ve lost.”
Pushing aside the horrifyingly accurate words, Harry gripped his wand harder and met Voldemort’s gaze. “I won’t agree to a single damned thing until you tell me about R.A.B.”
Voldemort’s malicious grin pulled on one side of his mouth. “Another victim of courage, I daresay. His attempts to betray me were feebly executed… I killed him.”
“Who was he?”
Voldemort ran his paper-white fingers across Harry’s forehead; Harry jerked away. “Let us say… your dear godfather was one of few Blacks who resisted my rise to power.”
Harry swallowed hard, the lump in his throat ascending dangerously high. Looking off into the distance, he gazed at Azkaban’s deathly looking cells.
Voldemort was watching, waiting, his impatience palpable. The Death Eaters continued to circle around them, their cloaks cracking in the wind.
Harry’s blood ran cold. He looked to Ron, ashen-faced and lifeless, and knew… he had no choice.
Nodding indistinctly, Harry felt a part of his heart go numb. A weight unlike any he’d ever felt pressed hard at his chest as the horror if his next word swelled inside him.
With an excruciatingly heavy heart, Harry set his jaw and looked up into the icy, malicious eyes of Lord Voldemort.
“Fine.”
Hope will fall tonight with broken wings.