Lightning and War

Responsibility

Tom burst through the door of the Order of the Phoenix's fortress, ducking his head as spells zipped over it. It seemed they'd been smarter than he thought at first, leaving some of their force behind the defenses to deal with anyone who might make it past the outer ones.

But it was still nothing against him, or against Abraxas's swift spells, or against Roland's blood magic, which curled and snapped in red coils around the legs and ankles of their opponents. Tom smiled a little as he watched Order of the Phoenix members collapse. Those who continued to fight too hard had their heads torn from their shoulders.

For years, he and his Knights hadn't dared this kind of open action. Tom didn't intend to leave any witnesses behind, which was the only reason he allowed it now.

He cast a spell that detected human life, and nodded as three of the doors glowed. A nonverbal Wind Curse flung all of them open at once. He got a groan as one door clobbered someone hiding behind it, a wave of Dumbledore's men from the second, and a scream that he remembered less than fondly.

"Please, help! They've been holding me prisoner here!"

Tom traded glances with Abraxas, silently telling him to handle the others, and swept into the room where Jonquil Potter was being held. It seemed to be a bedroom from which the bed had been abruptly removed, judging by the pattern of dust on the floor. Jonquil was bound to a chair, her arms linked together with rope and her legs with chain. Tom wondered for a moment why they hadn't gagged her, but more footprints in the dust told of a hasty exit. They'd probably been interrogating her when he and the Knights arrived.

Jonquil, her black hair hanging in scraggly curls around her, drew another breath and let it go without shouting. "Tom?"

Tom fought the urge to kill her for the hope shining in her eyes, and the only reason he really did was because Harry would be disappointed in him otherwise. "Potter," he said curtly. He severed the chain and rope with precisely aimed hexes, then faced Abraxas. "Can you make sure that Philip comes to me?"

Abraxas nodded and sprinted off. Of all his Knights, Philip was the most competent with healing spells. Tom, turning back and studying Jonquil, couldn't see much except some bruises, chafing from her bonds, and a knot on the back of her head, but for Harry's sake, he would have her checked over carefully.

"Why are you here, if you didn't come to rescue me?"

"For Harry's sake. He wanted you rescued."

Jonquil threw her head back defiantly. "I thought I made it clear to my family that I'm an adult and I was leaving them behind when I came through the portal. Why did Harry come after me?"

"Because, for reasons that are utterly obscure to me," Tom drawled as Philip appeared in the room's doorway, "Harry loves you." He nodded at Philip. "Make sure that her bruises are healed, and the chafing."

Philip eased carefully past him. Tom narrowed his eyes at him, and Philip mouthed, Harry loves her?

Ah. Philip thought Tom was dealing with a romantic rival, and wondered at the restraint, which Tom normally would not have bothered to put on himself. Tom's lip quivered at the thought of considering Jonquil a rival for anything.

"Philip, this is Harry's cousin, Jonquil Potter," was all he said, and left the room. He found his strides abruptly becoming longer as he left the house, nodding when members of his Knights called out their intentions to him. They were all doing exactly as he wanted them to, binding and bringing along the vast majority of the Order of the Phoenix members as prisoners, cleaning up the bodies, and neatly finishing off anyone so badly wounded that none of Philip's spells would reach them.