Apprentice Potter
A Piercing Headache
By Draco664
A Piercing Headache
NO! THIS IS NOT HOW IT WILL END! THIS IS NOT HOW IT SHALL BE!
I forced my head up, and sent a glare at Voldemort. "Not working? Perhaps you should look at the end of my wand?" I taunted. I took the opportunity to relax my shoulders before drawing in a breath and holding it, hoping against hope that I would get a chance to use it. As far away as Voldemort was, the only thing I could throw through my wand would be a first-year spell, but I had to try. Anything at all to distract him.
A frown flickered over Voldemort's features. Slowly, he again drew my wand and raised it to eye height, noting nothing amiss. He twisted it, looking at the end from another angle; again nothing.
Oh, come on, please, I thought to myself, look straight down the barrel.
But he didn't.
I let my breath out in a explosive cry of defeat as Voldemort tossed my wand onto the ground. Well, that was it. He'd trumped my ace.
And he didn't even realise. Oh, the fucking irony.
"Master? I have arrived."
Every head on the hill turned to look at the newcomer. A figure stood alone, clothed in Death Eater robes and mask, but the voice was horrifyingly familiar.
"Zabini?" asked Voldemort after a few seconds? "You were killed! Before Wormtail here even joined my ranks."
The Death Eater reached up and slowly removed his mask. Zab's features, twisted into a superior smirk I had never seen. "I survived the attempt to arrest me, and have been recuperating in hiding, My Lord. While my health is not yet perfect, I am willing and able to finally take my place at your side."
Voldemort looked at him, deeply suspicious. "Why now? I am about to--" he started, gesturing towards me, only to see my expression of betrayal. The Dark Lord snapped his head around, focusing on Zab, back to me, then finally back again to Zab. "Ah? You are Potter's enigmatic Master?"
Zab nodded lazily. "Indeed. I have been studying him for almost as long as that idiot Dumbledore. But recently, I have been working with him alone. What better way of learning about how he defeated you than to examine his skills, talents and innate abilities? Of determining how to prevent such an attack against your person in the future."
"Bastard!" I screamed through a raw throat, welcome anger finally rising through the mists of exhaustion.
But something didn't sit right. I forced the split in my mind, the part of me that controlled my body almost frothing at the mouth, while the other part examining everything I knew.
Zab drew his wand. "Let me guess, he told you to examine the tip of his wand?"
Voldemort's suspicion deepened. With a tiny gesture, Wormtail and one of the Death Eaters holding me had their wands out on Zab. "Yes, yes he did."
Zab raised his hands, and gently tossed his wand to Wormtail, willingly disarming himself. "Forgive me for both interrupting and giving you cause to doubt me, My Lord. But I needed to warn you of a danger in holding Potter's wand."
"What danger?"
Zab's features morphed into an evil smile.
"If I may?" he asked, striding forward and reaching out to pick up my wand from the grass in front of Voldemort, before pausing. He turned to Wormtail. "Ah, would you please cast a silencing charm on me? I would prefer not to accidentally set this off."
At Voldemort's nod, Wormtail cast, "Silencio."
Thank you, Zab mouthed. Gingerly, he picked up my wand between a thumb and forefinger, keeping it pointed away from him. As though he was holding a basilisk chick, he gently placed it on the open palm of his right hand.
Suddenly, with a graceful step and leap, he closed the distance between us, placing himself close enough that I could use my connection to my wand to throw almost any spell. In a flash, he had my wand aiming at a point between Voldemort's eyes. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and then his wand, almost daring Zab to try and cast a spell in his silenced state.
The sudden burst of hope released all constraints on my magic. I felt it coil around me, reaching out to my wand in the distance. As though I was drawing strength from the earth, the trees, the crowd around us; with every iota of magical strength I'd ever summoned, and more I had no idea I had access to, I screamed, "CONCIDIO!", forcing everything I had down the faint link to my wand.
Never had I managed to remotely cast that spell from this distance.
The sound of Voldemort's head being sliced up like a gore-filled balloon exploded and echoed around the crowd far more loudly than it should have; sounding like a hundred blades scraping along both each other and through frozen flesh. Despite the demonic sound of the curse tearing through what had been the brain of the Dark Lord, every single dollop of goo landing on the soft grass sounded like the most inspiring music my soul could imagine. Voldemort's black heart, not realising its owner was dead, sent blood arcing into the air a couple of times before the corpse dropped to its knees. It held there for a full two seconds, then continued to fall forwards where it landed with a rather final thump, gently pumping blood out onto the ground. I was faintly surprised that his blood wasn't acidic.
For three whole seconds, nothing moved. Not even insects buzzed in the air.
Then, in one single moment, a roar rose from the crowd, a guttural, primal scream of victory. Not even Grawp's voice came close to the majestic explosion of noise.
The Death Eaters holding onto my arms let go and clutched franticly at their forearms. Initially, I had assumed they did it in shock at seeing their Master gruesomely decapitated, but Wormtail himself shrieked and scrabbled at his own through his robes, giving me a sudden premonition.
I was almost glad to be already on my knees, since I was sure I wouldn't be able to retain my feet once I saw what was going to happen.
As one, the remaining Death Eaters squealed as the Dark Mark Voldemort burned into their arm ignited, flaring so brightly it looked as though the dark wizards were made of burning magnesium. If I had the energy, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from laughing with relief. It seemed that Voldemort had made some changes to the tattoo since the last time I chucked him out of his body. He'd obviously made the decision that he wasn't going to let his Death Eaters return to polite society should he fail in his goals this time around.
Only Zab remained standing. He dropped my wand, threw me a wink, then whipped an invisibility cloak over his head, disappearing in an instant.
I glanced around at the burning Death Eaters. "Rather sporting of you really, Tom," I mumbled in my highly distracted state, "cleaning up for us like that."
One of my captors flayed around too close to me, bumping lightly into me. With a yelp of pain, I tossed him off me in shock. Looking down at my bare arm, i could see a bright, shiny patch of skin that indicated a burn. Good think I got rid of him quickly, before I was burned too badly.
I reached down into my boots and withdrew my secondary wand from my left and a plugged vial from my right. Malfoy wasn't the only one who could make use of Potensavenenum.
Flicking the top of the vial off with my thumb, I tossed the entire potion back in one gulp, gagging slightly on the sickly sweet taste. Magical energy gently infused my body, giving me the strength to raise my willow wand, and cast, "Accio wand."
My holly wand flew to my left hand almost eagerly, thrumming with power as my fingers closed around it. Oddly, Voldemort's wand arced through the air towards me too, torn from the dead wizard's hand, and I managed to catch it in the fingers of my right hand, noting absently that a similar, though not as powerful, sensation of coiled power hummed when I took hold.
I looked down at the remains of the man who had made my life a living hell. No more would he corrupt the young, manipulate others, or seek to rule the rest. Without thinking, I put both phoenix-feather-cored wands together, side by side, and tossed the relatively useless willow wand back over my shoulder. The increase in almost eager magical potential grew. On a whim I raised the brother wands as one and, filled with the most relieved and happy sensation, cast, "Expacto Patronum!" down at the milling dementors.
While brother wands don't work properly when used against each other, they certainly work well when they are called on to be used together. Even with the magically charging power of Potensavenenum in my veins, there was no way I could remain conscious for long as a twenty-foot Patronus charged down the dementors, scattering them like dandelion seeds in the wind.
The last thing I saw as I closed my eyes was Prongs rearing up high enough to tower over Grawp, thrashing its hooves in the air, a silent tribute to the freedom that had just been brought to the world.
I slowly blinked my dry eyes open, noting with relief that this time my shoulders weren't flaring with white-hot pain. Voices intruded into my peaceful slumber, although more than one was insisting that the rest be quiet.
Soft white sheets covered me, and that gave me all the clues I needed to work out where I was.
Bloody hell, I'm not even at Hogwarts anymore, and I still end up in the hospital wing!
I blinked my eyes fully open and flexed my hands and feet, noting that they were quite stiff. A twinge on my arm indicated that the burn had been treated and patched. Even as magically drained as I felt, I wasn't going to hang around here. Not unless they were going to tie me down.
"Will you let me in! He needs to be checked!" came the familiar voice of Madam Pomfrey.
"I said no! You said yourself that there was nothing wrong with him, that he just needed rest. Well, he's getting it! There are others over there that need you."
I covered my eyes with my hands and groaned softly. "Oh, Ron, you suicidal idiot," I mumbled under my breath.
"Mr. Weasley, it is imperative-" came Dumbledore's voice.
"No! We're not letting anyone Harry doesn't trust completely in there while he's asleep. That means you, Dumbledore, Snape, the rest of the teachers, and no one from the Ministry at all," Ron declared. "Sorry, Dad," he added after a couple of second's pause, sounding a little sheepish.
Mr. Weasley's response was drowned out by a simple, "That boy is just asking for trouble."
I almost jumped at the sound of the feminine voice to my side. Blaise and Hermione were sitting together, just watching me. Blaise had her ankle strapped, looking like she was waiting for medical attention. Hermione's hair had been singed away on one side, and her clothes were filthy, but besides some simple shallow cuts on her face that had already scabbed, she didn't seem injured. "You're probably right, Blaise. 'Mione, did you put him up to this?"
Hermione had given me a small smile when I woke, but shook her head with a disapproving expression. "He's acting on his own out there. The rest of the DA are looking up to him at the moment, since his Patronus managed to actually held off six dementors by itself. It's a badger, by the way. Besides Ron and Neville, there are about twenty students between you and the rest of the world out there," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the door.
I looked around the private suite. It was simple, utilitarian, and held about as much attractiveness as a rotting flobberworm. "So, how long have I been out?"
"We brought you back here about an hour ago, maybe an hour and fifteen minutes," said Blaise.
Something tickled my memory. "Oh, bugger. Has anyone been down to the Whomping Willow? There are probably about a hundred people in the passageway there, keeping away from the Death Eaters."
Hermione nodded. "Padma asked Ron about it, she figured that Ron would know how to get down there if you did. He told which knot of wood to press. She came back about half an hour later, with a big group of cheering people."
I nodded, relieved that those poor guys hadn't been stuck down in the dark for hours imagining the worst. "What happened after Voldemort went down?"
Blaise and Hermione shared a look, and oddly, a sad smile. "All the Death Eaters burst into flames. Apparently, rumour has it, even the ones in Azkaban are all nothing but ash," Blaise said with a satisfied look.
I snorted. "Cool way of covering up the fact that those who were in Azkaban took part in the attack today. I recognized Goyle's father by sight, and Malfoy Senior by voice." I gave a small sigh. "After I smashed his head against the ground, you couldn't be sure it was him by sight. But here or in Azkaban, I suppose either way, they're dead."
Hermione, who didn't even give Blaise a small frown, turned back to me. "Your Patronus inspired a lot of people to try to cast their own. Apart from the people in the DA, six or eight others, including older students and townsfolk, managed to get a corporeal Patronus for the first time. Caught between Prongs and the rest, most of the dementors were either crushed or tossed so far away they haven't landed yet."
Blaise gave Hermione an odd look. "You named Harry's Patronus Prongs?"
I think that was the first time Blaise had ever called me Harry. Hermione launched into a detailed and lengthy description of why my Patronus is a stag and why its name is Prongs. After a while, Blaise's expression indicated that she was more interested in something else.
She butted in, more in an effort to shut Hermione up than anything else. "You know, Longbottom had to be physically dragged off one of the Death Eaters. Even then he shook off three bigger Gryffs and leapt back onto her and kept punching. He was busy turning her face into red goo, screaming point blank at her something about his parents. It scared the life out of me, seeing him like that," she said with a barely concealed shiver.
My eyes lit up. "He caught up with Bellatrix?"
Blaise looked bland and shrugged, but Hermione nodded. "It was a good thing you taught us to cast that jinx to short out a wand last time you were here, even though only Neville could cast it out of everyone in the whole school," she said with grumpiness in her voice. "Bellatrix was casting the Cruciatus on Luna when Neville found her. She tried casting it on him too, but he managed to get off that Evarto jinx at her. Thank goodness that he's the one who has managed to get it to work. Her wand fizzed out before she could get her spell off, he tackled her like they were playing rugby, and then he literally beat her to death in front of a group of students," she said, faintly sickly. She pointed out the door. "He's out there, waiting to get his broken hands set."
I looked over to the door again, wondering how he was. Neville had never shown the slightest inkling of killing in a rage. "I hope both of them are all right. I mean, I hope neither of them have been affected too badly."
Blaise snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Doubtful. According to Luna, being under the Cruciatus was 'jolly painful', while Neville hasn't stopped smiling since watching the Death Eater bitch's body burst into flames. That grin of his is bloody scary. Even the seventh-year Slytherins are giving him a wide berth. None of them want to see if he's capable of doing it to someone else."
I leaned back onto my pillow and despite the muted pain I felt, I let a smile of contentment spread over my face, which was soon overtaken by the unwelcome question I was trying not to ask. "Did we lose anyone?" I asked softly.
There was a pause before they answered. "Um, a lot of people were injured. Especially George. He had to be taken to St. Mungos. They're pretty sure he'll make it," said Hermione. "Fred said that he has too much pranking to do to die now."
I felt a fist close round my heart and squeeze. If this was how it felt to find out a friend had nearly died, I'm not sure I wanted to know who paid the ultimate price. I took a deep breath. "Anyone else?"
Blaise answered. "Luna will probably make it, we may not be able to tell for a while if her wits have been scrambled."
"Blaise!"
"Well, it's true!"
"Maybe so, but it's not nice to say things like that!"
"Do you want to do this?"
"Well, no."
"Then shut up and let me answer your boyfriend, eh?"
I frowned slightly. Why did Blaise think I was Hermione's boyfriend? Oh, of course. She's a Slytherin. If that's what it takes to exist peacefully with my friends, she'd accept that.
Before I could comment, she continued. "About a dozen students were killed. Despite the fact that your housemates charged into the fray, no Gryffindors died, but a lot won't be coming back to school whole. Stupid idiots," Blaise said darkly.
"Whole?" I asked, feeling horrified.
Blaise nodded. "Let's just say that your stalker Creevey won't be holding a camera that needs two hands ever again."
Hermione gave her a disapproving look, but didn't reprimand her. "Katie Bell lost her left leg below the knee. Lavender got hit with the same curse that I received at the Department, but in the belly, not the chest. She probably won't be able to have children, which at the moment she's claiming is a blessing. A lot of the seventh years were injured too."
Blaise nodded. "Gryffindor Tower is still going to hold the same hundred-odd students, but there are only going to be enough body parts for about ninety-five whole people."
I grimaced at the thought, and Hermione looked faintly sick. "Don't say anything like that again, please," I whispered softly, trying to keep my stomach contents inside.
Blaise nodded, actually looking sorry. "Oddly, it was Slytherin that got hit the worst. Bulstrude and Malfoy were ones who did die," she said, not sounding upset at all. "But they had bloody masks on and were busy cursing and killing students at school, so no loss there. Professor Snape is having to come to terms with the fact that he was nearly killed in an ambush set by someone he gave a prefectship to. That's why none of the teachers got down to Hogsmeade, by the way. They were busy putting out fires those idiots started here." She paused for a second. "Crabbe and Goyle actually tried to stop them, for some reason. They tackled Bulstrude, and got killed by Malfoy for their trouble. The little snot got hit by so many curses after that from the Slytherin members of the DA that he just stopped breathing."
I blinked, trying to take it in when she blew my breath from my lungs.
"Chang didn't make it," she whispered.
The fist clenched, and I grimaced and leaned forward, trying once again not to vomit. Cho had taunted the Death Eaters by changing the Dark Marks in the air, and by doing so had earned both their attention and ire, but she had done it at my behest.
"Damn," I whispered, tears slowly leaking from the edges of my clenched eyes. "What happened?"
Another pause. "No one really knows. Ron found her while he was looking for Ginny, he said she just looked like she'd been hit with the killing curse. Gin is fine, by the way. Just a concussion, but half her hair is blue now."
A faint, conciliatory voice in the back of my mind said that maybe Cho would be happier being with Cedric. It didn't really help. "Please tell me that no one else died?"
Another uncomfortable silence. Oh no. Who, I thought to myself?
"Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin from our year. A couple from fifth and forth years too. Besides Cho, another two seventh-years were killed too."
I nodded, suddenly feeling empty. "Anyone else? Anyone I know?"
"Grawp," said Hermione softly. "Sorry. He attacked the Death Eaters on the hill, going after Vol-Voldemort. Hagrid tried to get to him, but too many spells hit him at once. From both sides, unfortunately. His heart just stopped beating."
Despite the grim conversation, my strength quickly returned. The handful of other student casualties were not people I knew personally, probably since only Gryffindor was spared any losses. Oddly, my spirits did get a small rise over the fact that Blaise was beginning to refer to my close friends by their first names.
After a few moments silence out of respect for those who fell, we began talking about other things, light-hearted things. As difficult as it was, I was able to smile. Perhaps it was the feeling of freedom that seemed to encompass everything, even the light streaming in through the window seemed brighter than usual.
During a pause in the conversation, the two girls looked at each other and stayed silent for a few moments, which troubled me somewhat. Normally when forced together, you couldn't get them to shut up. I closed my eyes and lay back, waiting for whatever was coming.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Um, Harry? The prophecy did say that you were going to kill him. Who was that who killed Voldemort? Was it one of his Death Eaters?"
I cracked open one eye and glanced at them. "What did you see?"
They exchanged looks again. "Well, from where we were, you were being held down by two Death Eaters, Wormtail came over and pulled some hair out of your head, then added it to a potion. Vol-Voldemort then started casting a spell, but stopped, pulled out another wand and looked at it."
I nodded. "I tried getting him to look at my wand tip, looking down the length of the wand. It didn't work."
Hermione interrupted Blaise. "That's when the other Death Eater arrived. You called him a bastard, and he said some things to Vol-Voldemort and Wormtail. Then he jumped between you and Voldemort, raised his wand and pointed it at, well, him. "We heard you cast a spell without a wand. It sounded like a cutting curse."
I sighed. "OK. This goes no further than between the three of us. Agreed?"
Both nodded eagerly.
I nodded back. "It was the different form of magic I told you about. I've been practising casting spells while my wand is nearby, but not in my hand."
"Wandlessly?"
I shook my head. "No. The spell still uses my wand to amplify the magic, so no it isn't wandless. What happens is the spell comes out of my wand as usual, but I'm not holding it at the time. My teacher calls it remote casting."
Hermione blinked. "But that's impossible!"
I chuckled. "And yet you just saw a practical application of the principle. Voldemort's head spread all over the ground."
Blaise leaned forward. "What does G-, um, your teacher know about this?"
Hermione gave her an odd look. "You know who Harry's teacher is?"
Blaise rolled her eyes, but with humour in her expression, not malice. "Well done, Granger. Remember, I was staying with him for part of the holidays."
I coughed to get their attention. "He's been studying it with me. Every bloody afternoon he's had me throwing spells left and right from my wand, measuring the distance and the power of the resulting spell. It's really exhausting." I nodded to Hermione. "You called the first day we tried it. I was probably just as tired then as I was after getting rid of Voldemort today."
Blaise paled. "Was, was that-?"
I nodded. "Yes. That was my teacher."
Hermione's eyes opened so wide I thought they'd burst. "Harry? You're being taught by a Death Eater?"
I shook my head. "No. I'd tell you more, but I can't. Just accept that what happened up on the hill was an act designed to get my wand close enough to me to cast a powerful spell at Voldemort. Given how angry I was at the time, and you've never seen me that angry, it would have been like getting hit in the face by a ball of flashing razor blades."
Ron's voice rose over the rabble outside. "For the last time, NO! There are two people he trusts in with him who'll call out if he is in danger. Put your wand down or we'll just have to show you what Harry taught us the last time he was here, or you'll find out just how much Ollivander charges to fix wands."
I groaned and pulled the sheets over my head, noting that my robes were simply filthy with blood, dirt, gore and grass. "Laundry time, I think," I said, coming out from under them. "Cleaning charms aren't going to shift this lot."
The pair of girls looked at me and both giggled softly, before stopping and looking at each other in horror.
I pulled off the sheet, wincing slightly as I discovered the burn on my arm hadn't been treated. "Oh, come on, that's enough, the pair of you. Has anyone seen my wand?"
Hermione nodded, reached into her robes and drew out my holly wand. "And Voldemort's wand?" I asked, hopefully.
Blaise bit her lip, but followed suit and held out the yew wand. "Is this it?"
I nodded, taking them both. I looked at the girls again.
"My willow wand?"
The pair blinked. "Willow wand? How many bloody wands do you have, Harry?" barked Blaise through her laughter.
"Before today, two," I shrugged, wriggling out of the bed. "I got another wand so I could summon my own if I was casting spells remotely. Until I can cast a summoning spell wandlessly, I needed another one. But I cast that Patronus with Voldemort's wand side-by-side with my own. As brothers, they amplified each other."
Blaise's eyes widened. "Everyone was wondering how the hell you did that. Not even Dumbledore had seen a Patronus that large before. Putting brother wands together sort of makes sense. But I think your other wand got scooped up by the aurors on the scene. Most of the Death Eater's wands got snapped on the spot. It was only because they didn't know which wand in your hand was yours that they let us take them with you back here."
I turned to Hermione. "You know which is mine. Why didn't you just carry both?"
She coughed. "Um, they didn't want to be together when I held them."
I blinked and looked down at them, both sitting quite peacefully in my hands. I put them together and felt the magical potential increase. "There doesn't seem to be a problem."
Blaise cleared her throat. "Um, that didn't happen to us. They acted like magnets, and not in a good way, pushing away from each other." Her expression turned amused. "Perhaps they like you."
I slipped both wands into my sleeve, giving the pair of them a mock-irritated look. "Fine. Shall we go and fight our way out of here?"
Both smiled, and nodded.
The babbling crowd silenced at Blaise opened the door, everyone turning to look at me. Ron's face split into a massive grin, and he hurled himself at me. The fact that he out massed my by almost two to one meant that I was knocked back about two feet.
"Oof! Ron!" I wheezed.
"Sorry, mate, but we won!" he said, hauling me off my feet. "The tosser is dead!"
I frowned at him. "Mate, what about George?"
He barked a laugh. "'Mione hasn't heard the latest. He's fine."
"What happened?" I asked over the ever louder crowd.
Ron's grin widened even more. "He got trapped by a pair of Death Eaters, and started searching through his pockets for something to use. Of course, they were full of Wheezes, so he put a couple between his teeth to hold while he finished scrabbling through his pockets. An explosion surprised him, and he gulped them all down in one go. He turned into something like Malfoy on the train last summer, and the Death Eaters left him alone, thinking he was dead!"
Around both my soft laughter at George's brilliant solution and the shouts of congratulations from the rest of the DA, Dumbledore gently pushed his way through the dancing crowd, Mr. Weasley, Kingsley and Tonks on his heels. "Now, now, settle down please. There are still people here who need medical attention. If Mr. Potter would come with me, we can allow Madam Pomfrey to regain control of her dominion."
I held my tongue until we were bustled out of the infirmary. Once out the door though, I stopped, even though there were probably thirty people wanting to leave. I looked up at Dumbledore. "Sorry. But I need to report to someone else first. Once I'm finished there, then I'll come and see you."
"That's not acceptable, Potter," snapped Kingsley, pushing his way through the door. "I need to know what the hell you-"
"Shut up," I said, not loudly, but confidently. Kingsley obliged, more out of surprise than anything else.
I turned back to Dumbledore. "As I said, I'll be back when I'm done. Ron?" I asked, looking for my best friend.
He squeezed through the door and appeared from behind Dumbledore, his grin still well fixed in place. "Here, mate."
I noticed he was holding my bag. "Oh, cool. You've got my back pack. Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can." I took the bag, and threw it on over my shoulder.
Ron nodded, his smile slipping slightly. "I put your dad's cloak in there. Thought you may need it getting out of here."
I blinked and barked a laugh; Ron must have found the cloak I was using and figured that it was mine. Kingsley butted in again, grabbing hold of my upper arm. "Now see here, Potter! I can't just let you wander out of here!"
Oddly, it was Tonks who came to my rescue. She took one look at my expression, which was probably pretty familiar to her, and reached out and placed a hand on Shacklebot's shoulder. "Um, Kingsley? You're getting him angry. This is the Harry who blew Snape across the room without a wand when he was irritated," she said, leaving the statement as open ended as a threat.
The black auror's hand was snatched back so quickly it almost created a sonic boom, but he wouldn't stop. "Harry, please, I need to debrief you! The Ministry needs to know what happened!"
I clenched my teeth together and forced out a snort. "No it doesn't. At least it hasn't in the past. Go and find some poor innocent bugger whose life has been destroyed, and throw him in prison without a trial. Then go and find every single other bastard still alive with a tattoo on his arm and let them go free. If there are any. There you go, all done! Nice and fixed. And before dinner time too. And just like last time too."
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Harry, I understand that you think you should report to your instructor. But please believe me when I say that I personally have some questions that need answering. I'm afraid I can't allow you to divulge what happened today until we determine if anything needs to be classified."
I simply blinked at the sudden change in Mr. Weasley. Normally a good natured, gentle man, he stood here, as hard as granite, not budging an inch.
I opened my mouth to respond when a very familiar touch flickered against my mental shields. I shut my mouth, and slowly, I gently lowered them, getting an image of a bamboo stalk being pushed over by a wizard, then suddenly springing back to whack the pusher on the nose.
I grinned slowly. Not only was Zab telling me to submit, but he was telling me he was nearby, close enough to hear our conversation. I suppose with the large number of invisibility cloaks on the field of battle, it wouldn't have been too difficult to move around unnoticed. But I needed to warn him.
"Fine," I said, earning a few odd looks of both relief and curiosity. I brought to mind the time Dumbledore looked directly at me under my invisibility cloak in Hagrid's hut, and gently pushed it out into the ether. I hoped Zab got it, I didn't want him to be seen at Hogwarts. "But as I told Dumbledore before, I reserve the right to not answer any question I haven't been given permission to."
Mr. Weasley's expression twisted into an uncomfortable mask. "Harry, I'm afraid that is not accept-"
Dumbledore interrupted. "Agreed. In my office, gentlemen?"
"Albus!"
"Arthur, one thing you will need to understand is that Harry here is quite capable of both making decisions, and sticking to them. I don't relish making any attempt to force him to answer anything he has been forbidden to divulge. As he is not under arrest, we shall have to make do with what we can convince him to give us."
At my request, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Blaise accompanied me to Dumbledore's office. Luna hadn't been able to come up, still bed-ridden after being subjected to the Cruciatus during the battle, while Susan was too busy assisting Madam Pomfrey to join us. Neville was considered too injured, which didn't really bother the Gryffindor wizard. Mr. Weasley made a call through the fire in Dumbledore's office, which summoned a number of other witches and wizards, some of whom I recognised from the Wizengamot.
As many as twenty people were crowded into Dumbledore's office, which had been temporarily expanded to accommodate the throng. Fawkes was trilling happily, obviously overjoyed at the news that Voldemort was no longer among the living. Many of the portraits were empty, and those who were present were wearing party hats. I'd never really thought about ensuring a portrait had a well-stocked wardrobe, but then again, there was a great deal in the wizarding world that I didn't know.
Madam Bones crashed through the door, panting heavily. "Albus! Is it true? Is the Dark Lord dead?"
Dumbledore nodded serenely, rising to his feet and pouring her a glass of water. "Here, Amelia, catch your breath. Yes, it is true, Lord Voldemort has fallen. And this time, we have his body."
Madam Bones collapsed bonelessly into a hastily conjured armchair, spilling water down her legs. "Oh, my. Oh this is wonderful news!"
"Is it?" I snapped.
Instantly, the room hushed.
"People died! My friends died! And they were worth a hundred Tom Riddles!" I spat at her.
Madam Bones' expression contorted, seemingly unable to decide on whether or not she was chastised, infuriated or apologetic. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, you are not the only person in this room who has lost loved ones to Voldemort. Yes, indeed, Voldemort has been defeated. That fact is wonderful news. The news that many good people have passed on as a result is not."
I glowered at him for a moment before lowering my head and sighing.
The Headmaster gave me an odd look, before turning back to the room's occupants. "First of all, I know many of you have been critical of me and my handling of Mr. Potter here over the last few years. To clear up a few things, I'd like to show you all something."
Once more, the overfull pensieve came out, and my ex-Divination professor's silvery form recited the sought-after prophecy. Once more, silence greeted the completion.
"Harry here was marked as Voldemort's equal the on Halloween, 1981. The prophecy finally came true this afternoon."
"But Harry didn't cast the spell!" Ron blurted, to a great many nods and murmurs.
I nudged him with an elbow, but I was too late.
"Then who was the person who cast the curse?" asked one of the Wizengamot.
I sighed. "Look. I really don't want to have to go over this again, so listen closely. The attack today had been planned for months. It was only my arrival in the village this morning that sprung the trap."
Despite having to stop and start over again a couple of times as a few stragglers deigned to arrive, the story of what happened today went through quite quickly.
Throughout my tale, I was initially admonished for letting a giant loose on Hogsmeade, for attacking Death Eaters without going for help, for taunting the Dark Lord by modifying the Dark Marks and for participating in a charge that left a great many people dead and injured.
When I described my ambush of three Death Eaters, I was subjected to a chorus of dismissive grunts and wheezes. Apparently, either I'm not permitted to defeat three trained adults, or that sort of thing just doesn't happen in the real world.
This is, of course, the 'real world' where the rebirth of Voldemort had been denied. Idiots.
My friends came to my rescue. Ron all but challenged those with dissenting voices with a duel, while Blaise and Hermione between them dredged up every single bad decision and vote each of the disbelieving Wizengamot members had ever made. From memory.
It was rather satisfying to see the expression change on the face of one of Fudge's bought and paid for Wizengamot members. He had not accepted my story that I had been attacked by dementors during my hearing before fifth-year. Hermione rather tartly informed him that he had no credibility in dealing with me, since it was pointed out that Umbridge had admitted to releasing the dementors herself.
Ginny all but exploded with anger herself at various points, and rather vocally informed the assembled witches and wizards that I had always told the truth, and that they had been guilty of believing the lies fed to them by others. Essentially, she told them to shut up and listen to me.
If McGonagall had been there, Gin would have been serving detention with Filch for a month for the language she used. I'm sure Ron had never been more proud of his ickle baby sister than at that point. Even Blaise case a wary eye between Gin and her father, expecting an explosion of Weasley tempers that would level the building.
Dumbledore had, surprisingly, stood up for Ginny.
My story continued, amidst gasps of shock when I described the death of Lucius Malfoy (though Mr. Weasley's gasp of shock sounded suspiciously like a snort of satisfaction), and my capture by the dementors. Voldemort's plan to pin a permanent Dark Mark over the spot generated a shiver of repressed horror, and both Hermione and Blaise took one of my hands each in support.
My conversation with Voldemort was not exactly repeated verbatim. I did add that he thought that my 'power he knows not' was the loyalty I inspired in others.
Madam Bones leaned forward in her chair. "So, who was this Death Eater who appeared?"
I shrugged. "I don't know his name," I said truthfully, since I didn't know Zab's first name. "But he had heard about what I'd said at Hogsmeade the last time I was there."
"Why did you shout out such a powerful curse?" came the expected, yet unwelcome question.
I sighed theatrically. "I was frustrated, and simply shouted what I would cast if I had my wand in my hand. My shout may have covered anything the Death Eater cast."
Several people scoffed. "Why would a Death Eater turn on his Master just as it looks like he was going to kill you?" one asked.
I shrugged. "Hey, you either saw what happened, or have heard about it by someone else. Since you all have a remarkable talent for ignoring the truth, I'm sure as hell not going to waste my time and energy trying to convince you."
Dumbledore barked a warning to me, but the babbling and shouting by the assembled wizarding leaders easily drowned it out.
Order was eventually restored, during which time, I simply leaned back in the chair, satisfied with what I had told them. If they didn't believe me, tough.
"Mr. Potter, you can't expect us to believe that, can you?" asked Madam Bones.
I stared at her for a few seconds before laughing. "You want me to convince you what someone wearing a Death Eater mask's motives were? Fat chance. No, I've told you what happened from my perspective. You've all heard what happened from other eye witnesses. Put the pieces together yourselves, I'm not going to be labelled a crank again for trying to do it for you and coming up with an answer you don't like."
I stood firm for the next half hour or so, long enough to be sure that no matter how long the members of the Wizengamot debated, they'd never come close to the real events. Satisfied that my remote casting skills would remain a secret for a while now, I simply crossed my arms and let them shout at each other. I did exchange amused glances with my friends, noting that Hermione's respect for these idiots was taking a fairly sustained beating.
Finally, Dumbledore stood and asked that the debate be taken elsewhere. Still spitting caustic insults at each other, the respectable Wizengamot members, aurors and politicians slowly exited. My friends were also politely asked to leave, but only did so after being placated that I would be fine.
Left alone with Dumbledore again, I observed the casual ease with which he practised his craft, shrinking the room back to its usual dimensions.
"Perhaps Aloysius, you would care to leave too? Or at least come out from under your invisibility cloak? I have things to discuss with Harry that are not for your ears either."
I frowned at Dumbledore. "Who?"
"Me," came a familiar voice from behind me.
I spun round. "Huh?" I gaped, watching my master emerge from under an obviously purloined cloak. How the hell had he managed to get into the Headmaster's office in the first place?
Idiot, I thought to myself. He'd have simply followed the last of the group up the stairs.
"Now I know what you were trying to tell me," Zab said.
Dumbledore coughed softly. "Tell you?"
Zab glared at Dumbledore, his invisibility cloak now folded neatly over his arm. "Nothing that concerns you, old man."
I blinked. Zab was using the same non-affectionate term I had been for Dumbledore. "You've been there since we first got here," I said out loud.
Zab nodded, confirming my suspicions. "Long enough to see that my decision to fake my own death and leave the wizarding world was the right one. Those babbling idiots that make up the Wizengamot couldn't be trusted to find their own arses with both hands."
"You're being a bit harsh there, Alo-"
Zab snapped up a hand, stopping Dumbledore in his tracks. "Enough! Do not say that name again. I despise it. And despite what you think, I am dead to the wizarding world. I came here only to ensure my apprentice was safe."
Dumbledore blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Ah, I see. Finally, I understand your reticence to divulge your master's identity, Harry."
I rolled my eyes. "Why did you think he was here in the first place?"
Dumbledore shrugged. "This isn't the first time I've seen your Master since his death. Yes, Al-, er, Mr. Zabini, I knew you were alive; I have seen you under your invisibility cloak at two different Wizengamot sessions in the last few years. Alastor was with me on both occasions, so I simply assumed that he assisted you in your disappearance." Dumbledore expression showed precisely the instant that the epiphany struck. "Alastor. He wanted Harry to meet someone. Oh dear. I have been given everything I needed to determine your whereabouts, yet for some reason, I didn't join the clues together."
Zab snorted. "Albus, I've known you to put every possible clue together and come up with two different answers. Severus is the only teacher here worth a damn when it comes to logic, and even his judgement is easily overcome by his bigotry."
Dumbledore didn't appear to be able to deny this. "You are probably correct. In my experience, you generally are. Though if I had known that you were Harry's Master, I would not have been as worried."
Zab snorted. "Rubbish. From that prophecy you just showed everyone, you'd have done anything to get Harry here out of my house and back into the school under your thumb."
Dumbledore sighed. "I would like to disagree, but I'm afraid you may be right. Though I do not know of any properties your family holds overseas."
"Overseas?" Zab asked blankly.
I snorted softly to myself as Dumbledore nodded and said, "Yes."
Zab snatched a look at me, and grinned, pride showing plainly in his expression. "You can't have lied straight out, Albus would have picked up on that no matter what skill you have with Occlumency. What did you do to make him think that you were being taught overseas?"
I shook my head. "Nothing really, I just suggested that the laws covering hidden properties in the UK didn't extend to those in other countries."
Dumbledore looked almost horrified. "But you... But I..."
Zab barked a laugh. "Albus, I've seen you being manipulated before, but not by a teenager."
Dumbledore coughed and absently rearranged his desk ornaments to cover his mounting embarrassment. "Yes, well, I shall have to include that in my memoirs. I'm sure many people will get a chuckle out of it."
Zab nodded. "Now, unless there is anything else?"
Dumbledore looked at us over his glasses. "I assume the Death Eater who appeared between Harry and Voldemort was yourself?"
Zab nodded. "I stole the robe and mask from Rockwood, after I took him down. My anti-apparition jinx set up over the town kept the other Death Eaters from escaping."
Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair intently. "So it was you who killed Voldemort? You were the Death Eater to whom Harry referred?" he asked, an odd tone in his voice.
Zab shook his head, causing Dumbledore do look even more confused than before. "Yes and no. Yes, I was the Death Eater who held Harry's wand. No, I didn't kill Voldemort, Harry did. Just like the prophecy said."
The old man shook his head. "What? No, what the hell happened?" he demanded, irritation flooding his voice.
I glanced up at Zab, still standing over me, who nodded in resignation. I turned back to Dumbledore, drew my wand (leaving Voldemort's in my sleave) and said, "Observe, old man."
I tossed my wand onto his desk. Dumbledore glanced from it to me. "Yes?"
"Watch it!" I snapped. Once he was studying the wand intently, I cast, "Lumos!"
The tip of my wand burst into light, startling Dumbledore so much he almost leapt out of his chair with a shout. For such an old guy, he does retain a certain vitality of movement.
"What on earth is this?" he blurted.
"The power the Dark Lord knows not," I replied simply.
Dumbledore stared down at my wand for several long moments before he reclaimed his seat and took a deep breath. "Power everyone knows not, more like it. Harry, you've just broken one of the major rules of magic!"
Zab placed a hand on my shoulder. "Then the rules are wrong. As for Voldemort, all I did was make myself as unthreatening as possible, so I could get a hold of Harry's wand and get it close enough to him so that he could cast a spell through it. Fortunately, the spell he chose was powerful enough kill Voldemort instantly, yet simple enough to cast from that distance."
"Distance matters?"
Zab rolled his eyes. "Of course. Once our research is complete, you'll receive a copy of the thesis. For now, we are leaving. It has been a rather long day, Albus. Mysteries have been solved, treacheries have been revealed, Dark Lords have been vanquished. We can discuss events at leisure at a later date. For now, it is time for my apprentice and I to leave."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, but nodded his agreement. "Take care, both of you. And Harry? Remember our agreement. You are always welcome at Hogwarts, should you wish to visit or use the resources of the castle. Always."
Zab and I tumbled out of the fire at Zabini Manor after finally leaving Hogwarts. As I brushed myself free of soot, Zab strode over to the sideboard and poured a couple of glasses of my favourite liqueur.
"A toast," he began, "to freedom."
"To peace," I replied, and we both sipped.
Zab sighed with contentment, and sat down in his favourite chair. "You did well today, Harry. I was almost convinced you believed that I was a Death Eater until I tried to glance into your mind. Despite your apparent rage, your shields were still firmly intact."
I sat down too. "It's a trick I discovered."
"Really? I'd like to hear how you do it one day."
I nodded, finishing off the rest of my drink. "There is one thing that I'm simply dying to know. May I ask you a question?"
Zab smiled, but raised his eyebrows. "Hmm, Alastor would be beside himself with envy, but I suppose you've earned it. Go on, ask."
I turned to face him. "Is your name really Aloysius?" I asked, before bursting into laughter at his rapidly darkening expression.