"Stop it!" hissed Daphne, looking at the woman with as much hate as she could muster. "He's just a thirteen-year-old boy! What has he ever done to you?"
Bellatrix laughed as she observed the twitching boy on the ground. "It's the very fact that he exists, the bastard child of a Mudblood having gained the title of Scion of the Lestrange family."
"Pathetic," spat Daphne, trying to control the shaking of her limbs, ignoring the searing pain in her body. "To think a woman of your age would hold a grudge against a small boy just because you and loser of a husband couldn't have a child!"
SLAP!
A red handprint could be seen on Daphne's pale face as Bellatrix glared at the girl. "Don't you dare insult my husband, Greengrass," she shrieked angrily. "Don't you dare judge Rodolphus without knowing what you're talking about. He loves me more than anyone in the world and I will not allow you to disrespect him! Be warned, do it again and you won't like the consequences. Had you insulted the Dark Lord, I would have killed you on the spot!"
"I will insult anyone who brings pain to my fiancé. I haven't forgotten what you and your husband did to Harry," replied Daphne furiously, pulling Dylan close to her protectively, his head against her bosom. "Dylan is your nephew! Killing nameless, faceless people is one thing, but your own family? You really are an insane bitch, aren't you, Bellatrix? No wonder the Houses of Black and Lestrange was nearly driven to extinction by having people like you in charge."
"Not another word," said Bellatrix dangerously, her wand pointed at Daphne's forehead, the tip glowing. "Do you know who I am? I am Bellatrix, the eldest daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, one of the most powerful families in all of Magical Europe! I have always known about my responsibility. Do you think I don't care about my family? Open your eyes, Greengrass! You would know the duty of the oldest sibling; I was trained by the elders in the family since I could barely walk! Who do you think taught Sirius everything he knows about politics? It surely was not his parents! Uncle Orion was too focussed on his business ventures and Aunt Walburga only cared about her parties. I took care of him and Regulus since the time they were little boys."
"If Sirius is a successful Minister, it is because of me! If Sirius is a powerful wizard, it is because of me! If Sirius has as much control over the Ministry and Wizengamot, it is because I taught him everything I knew, trained him since he was a boy, and looked after all my siblings like an elder sister should. I have done my duty to my family, and it pains me every day that my cousin was manipulated into joining the wrong side of the war. Trust me, Albus Dumbledore will pay for what he did to us, causing a rift in the Black family by interfering in our affairs. Andromeda is still alive only because she is my sister, even though she married a filthy Mudblood! This bastard," she spat at Dylan, "is the son of a Mudblood whore! He is a stain on the noble line of Lestrange, and as the Head of House, it is my duty to get rid of him."
"Not good enough," Daphne sneered at the woman. "Don't rationalize your actions, Bellatrix, because nothing can ever justify your exploits over the years. You honestly don't care about anyone but yourself. You may say that you care about your brother and sister, but if Voldemort ordered you to kill them, you wouldn't hesitate for a second, would you? Why? Because the Dark Lord's word is the law! You wouldn't hesitate to kill Sirius if your master orders you to do it, am I wrong? Where's the love you have towards your cousin then, Bellatrix? You're nothing but a drone! You're as good as an Inferius!"
Bellatrix's face contorted in rage, but the insane glint was suddenly back in her eyes. Over the past two weeks, Daphne and Dylan had the pleasure of meeting the woman every day as she tried to convince them to join the Dark Lord. In that time, Daphne had realised that Bellatrix's moods were highly mercurial. She would converse with them for an hour, talking about a variety of subjects, acting as though they were friends, and then start torturing them all of a sudden, feeling a vindictive pleasure in hearing them scream. She seemed quite unbalanced and insane.
If Daphne didn't know better – being the daughter of a Healer made her recognise a few symptoms – she would honestly say that Bellatrix had two personalities within her – one who was probably the original Bellatrix, who was dark, intelligent and yet loved her family passionately, and the second being the insane woman who didn't care about anyone but her husband and the Dark Lord, killing everyone in her path without a second thought. Daphne didn't know when the disorder started, but if what she had heard from Bellatrix's original personality was true, it was due to losing the ability to bear children that started it all. That had traumatized the woman very deeply. Bellatrix should have been in St Mungo's under the care of a mind healer, but of course, for her crimes, she was sent to Azkaban, where the illness only got worse.
Unfortunately for them, it looked like her sadistic part of her personality had suddenly taken over.
"Well, I think it is time for another round, don't you, baby Dylan?" cooed Bellatrix. She cackled when Dylan hid his face behind Daphne. "What about you, princess?"
Daphne's breathing quickened as she wondered what she could do. The room they had been provided was very tiny. She didn't even know where in the manor they were. There was a small window in the corner but she knew without a doubt that it was artificial. There were no beds either, forcing her and Dylan to sleep on the hard floor. Only one lone toilet was conjured in the corner and food – if it could be called food – was provided twice a day. Daphne tried her best to look after Dylan, but it was proving to be difficult. Bellatrix was targeting the boy more often than not. She would not let her break him!
"Come on, Dylan," said Bellatrix in a babyish voice, pouting. "Aren't you going to play with Aunt Bella? I'll make it fun, I promise. Crucio!"
Dylan braced himself for the spell to hit him, but instead, he heard an unholy scream from Daphne. His eyes snapped open when he saw the older girl in front of him, her arms around him, trying to physically protect him from the curse.
"Oh, look!" said Bellatrix, cackling in delight. "Someone here wants to save little Dylan from the Cruciatus Curse! Lookie, lookie, nephew! You finally found a new Mummy! Your pathetic Mudblood of a mother didn't want you and you settle for a teenage girl instead? Tsk, tsk. Such a sad and pathetic life, isn't it, Dylan? Too bad Daddy Harry isn't here too. Then it would have been a complete family!"
Dylan ignored the mad ramblings of his aunt as he tried to help Daphne off the floor. The bond between the two of them had deepened considerably over the last two weeks. Dylan had always looked up to Daphne, but he had now come to regard her as highly as Harry, his affection for her as much as he felt for his brother. No one other than Harry, Daphne, Sirius and Amelia had done so much for him before and he vowed to protect Daphne by any manner possible as she had done for him.
"A-Are you okay?" he whispered after Bellatrix had left for the day.
Daphne nodded as she rested her head on his shoulder tiredly. Both of them seemed to be running a fever. "Let's continue with our Occlumency exercises," she rasped. "The Animagus transformation is the only option available to us."
"I know," murmured Dylan. Tears pricked his eyes as he croaked, "Thank you, Daphne. Thanks for everything."
Daphne smiled slightly, squeezing his hand. "It is the duty of the older sibling to take care of the younger ones," she said softly. She tried to joke as she said, "At least you aren't as annoying as Astoria."
The mention of his girlfriend brought more tears to Dylan's eyes. The two of them hugged each other tightly as they tried to survive the pain. But their hope in Harry did not fade.
He would come for them. They were sure of it.
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"Ah, you must be Evan Wilson," said Lucius Malfoy as the tall man walked forward. "The self-proclaimed assassin, welcome to our testing ground. I received a letter from Madam Umbridge about your abilities."
"Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well," said Evan, but did not extend his hand in greeting. "I have heard a lot about the Dark Lord and I decided that our goals are similar. I would like to offer my services to him as an assassin, which is why I'm here."
"Your record indicates nothing about your past targets and strengths," said Lucius, staring at the man suspiciously.
"That's my speciality," Evan replied smoothly. "I have taken care of numerous targets for both personal and professional reasons over the last few years, but I have ensured that no one has ever tied them to me. I entered the field quite recently, so I still have time to build my reputation."
"And why should the Dark Lord hire someone who admits that he is inexperienced and new to the job?"
"Because of my talent, Lord Malfoy, my talent. Isn't that why you are testing us here for the next two weeks? My talent in magic should more than compensate for any lack of experience on my part."
Lucius stared at the young man in front of him. Wilson was nothing impressive to look at and he doubted the boy was barely past his late teens. The assassin's record had stated that he was from Sweden, but Lucius couldn't be sure. After all, languages were hardly a problem in the magical world. It was barely an afterthought as there were translation charms and potions to deal with such barriers. He wondered if the young man could even survive the first day of the test, let alone the next two weeks.
"Fine, assemble with the rest of the witches and wizards present," said Lucius coolly. "We still have a few more assassins we're waiting for. We'll begin in an hour."
Evan nodded as he walked towards the two dozen witches and wizards, all of them looking at him as though he were a delicious piece of meat – in other words, young, naïve, and vulnerable.
"Oh, lookie, lookie, everyone," said a witch, cackling with delight. "We have a baby amongst us. What's your name, little one?"
Evan didn't answer as he calmly stared at the night sky.
"Oh, we have a shy one here," said the woman with a pout, but her tone hardened. "What's the matter, dear? Too embarrassed to speak to us? Look at me when I'm speaking to you, brat ..."
Just as her hands reached out to grab his face, Evan's wand was out in a fraction of a second. There was just a pure ripple of magic as a nonverbal torture curse was cast on her, making the woman scream. It wasn't the Cruciatus, but it was still painful. Evan lifted the curse just after a couple of seconds.
"I don't like to socialise," he said coldly. "I prefer to be alone, bitch. Try to annoy me again and I'll end your miserable existence."
A non-verbal Blood-Boiling Curse was fired from his wand, missing her by an inch, making the woman yelp in fright. The other assassins backed off, though some of them looked at him challengingly.
There was a crystal suspended in mid-air, observing them. At Riddle Manor, Lord Voldemort watched on his mirror as this boy took on one of the older assassins in Britain in a fraction of a second. The woman might be good, but she was also known for her attitude of backing off, so it wasn't a surprise. What impressed him the most was the sheer confidence and calm nature of Evan Wilson, the youngest of the group of assassins. He decided to keep an eye on the young man.
He watched as Lucius began with the test. First, it was targeting randomly flying disks, with the witch or wizard in a stationary position, in order to check the aim and accuracy of the assassins. Evan Wilson passed the test with a perfect score. Then there was a large box, magically expanded on the inside, within which all of them had to enter and take on deadly challenges for a week and survive in a duel against each other for another week. While all of them were talented, one of them stood out in the Dark Arts section.
There was only one winner – Evan Wilson.
"Lucius, ask him why he wants to serve me," said Voldemort, a small smirk tracing his lipless mouth. Lucius heard his master through the mirror and repeated the question.
"Simple," said Evan coldly. "I hate Muggles and anyone who is willing to get rid of those filthy beasts and has actually done something concrete is worth my respect. The Dark Lord's record is better than anyone else in recent years. I have also heard how insanely powerful he is and I respect true power. I am willing to work for him if he wants me."
Voldemort's smirk widened. Even through the mirror, he could see the clear hatred in the brown eyes of the young man as he spoke about Muggles. Yes, this would do.
"Bring him and the other selected recruits here, Lucius," ordered Voldemort. "It is time we added more talented members to our cause."
"Yes, my Lord," muttered Lucius as he deactivated the mirror.
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"Get ready, everyone," said Sirius. He looked at the group of the twenty-five of the best witches and wizards in the Auror Corps and the Department of Mysteries, which also included a couple of members of the Order of the Phoenix. "This is it. When we receive the address of Voldemort's headquarters, we attack. Wait for the signal."
Everyone nodded as Sirius went back to listening to what was happening. There was a screen on which a red dot kept flashing every second, alerting them to a location they were monitoring. A crystal was suspended in mid-air from which they could hear what was going on. Unspeakables around him were working religiously, applying finishing touches to a small silver instrument that was puffing and releasing smoke.
"Here you go," said Croaker, giving them a small phial containing a thick red liquid.
Sirius watched intently as the instrument gave out a red puff of smoke.
"It's ready, Minister."
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It had been nearly four weeks since they had been captured and Bellatrix had finally decided that her torture wasn't enough and had decided to experiment on how much more she could do before the two of them snapped. Dylan had cracked under the pressure as he had been unable to take it anymore. Bellatrix had actually bitten on his arm, clawing the word 'Mudblood' with her teeth. Coupled with her wand and hurtful words, the nearly fourteen-year-old boy had just not been able to handle it.
"I think I'm beginning to enjoy this," said Bellatrix as she cackled. Licking her lips, she looked at Daphne. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. If little baby Dylan can crack, so can you! I can't wait to see the proud princess cry. It brings such warmth to my heart."
Grinning at Dylan's crying form, Bellatrix left the room singing, "I'm going to kill my nephew, yay!"
Daphne moved over to Dylan as she tried to help up, but his body was too weak and his spirit crushed. Bellatrix had used all of Dylan's weaknesses and insecurities against him to work her way to his heart as she crushed it. She didn't even have to raise her wand - her words were enough to cause such damage.
"Dylan, Dylan, please," said Daphne pleadingly as she helped him up, hugging him tightly. "Don't listen to her. You're not alone, you know that. There are people who love you. You have Harry, Astoria and I who love you, Dylan, don't listen to her!"
But Dylan didn't stop crying. "She's going to kill me," he sobbed. "I can't take it anymore, Daphne, I really can't take it anymore. I just want it to end. I want to go home! I want to see Harry again. I want to see Uncle Sirius and Aunt Amelia again. I miss them all so much! I want to be with my family. I want my life to go back to the way it was before all this started. Why am I always alone? Why doesn't anyone want me?"
"Dylan!" snapped Daphne angrily. "She's saying that to purposely needle you, can't you see that? I'm still here! Harry will rescue us, don't lose hope!"
"I've been a failure at everything. I couldn't protect myself, I couldn't fulfil my promise to Harry to always keep you safe, I couldn't be a good son to my father, and – and – Bellatrix was right! I don't deserve to live!"
Daphne was terrified of what she was hearing. Did the torture finally get too much for Dylan? Was it affecting his mind?
"Dylan, please ... DYLAN!"
She sent a wandless stinging hex to his cheek, making him double over in shock. "Don't give up!" she said firmly, cupping his face. "We're going to survive this, understood? We're going to survive! Say it!"
"We're going to survive," repeated Dylan quietly.
"Yes," said Daphne, sitting in a meditative posture. "We will survive. We have to survive. We are going to prevail. We will escape."
She wouldn't let him give up now ... not when they were this close.
Daphne's body began to change. Her skin darkened as fur began to form on her body. It was yellowish-orange in colour with black stripes. Her hands changed to form paws, but her face remained human.
Dylan began to transform too. His body was slowly being covered in grey fur with patches of brown here and there. The fur on his hands and legs were completely brown, matching the colour of his hair. His ears began to change too, becoming pointier. His teeth elongated until the canines were sharper, but he too didn't fully change.
They were both close. It was only a matter of time before they could fully transform.
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Evan Wilson adjusted the basilisk hide vest he was wearing under his robes. There were a dozen assassins here along with him being taken to Voldemort. They were certainly not the top quality assassins, but they would prove to be effective Death Eaters for any sort of magical fight. Essentially, they were cannon fodder, just like the rest of the lower level Death Eaters Voldemort didn't care about. They were the ones on the front lines fighting for what they thought was for the Dark Lord, only not realising that the Dark Lord didn't care about them at all. The inner circle was the one filled with exceptional warriors like the Lestranges, Rowle, Rosier and Dolohov; Ministry workers like Macnair, Carrow and Yaxley; highly talented people like Rookwood and Severus Snape; and political people like Malfoy, Nott, Avery; and finally, those who were there purely for a specific purpose and yet didn't really contribute much like Pettigrew, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle.
Evan tightened the hood around his neck as they walked. They had been taken to different places via Portkey before being brought here. He was not surprised. Until they were all marked or inspected by Voldemort, they were a threat. They were taken to a forest clearing where they were fully inspected for any magical tracking devices on them.
"I'll be taking you to the Dark Lord's manor," said Lucius in a superior tone. "Remember that you are to kneel before the Dark Lord when he approaches you; never speak unless spoken to and do not make eye contact unless he demands it. If you make any unnecessary move, you would be killed before your wand can clear its holster."
Evan's face remained impassive and so were the faces of the other assassins. It was their line of work; they knew not to antagonise their prospective employer or client.
"Read this and memorise it," said Lucius, giving them a piece of parchment. "Pass it around once you are done."
Evan stood at the very end of the line as he watched the piece of parchment being passed around quickly. Just before it reached him, he cast a wandless charm to cause a small diversion so that Lucius' attention would not be fixed on him. In a couple of seconds he had managed to get the man distracted, he wandlessly switched the piece of parchment containing the address in Bellatrix's handwriting to another similar looking piece which was fake. Since Lucius already knew the secret, he shouldn't recognise the difference in the switch.
Not yet anyway.
Evan squeezed his fist. A house-elf appeared silently in the clearing and took the piece of parchment which was in Evan's pocket. The elf disappeared just as silently before anyone noticed its presence.
There were a dozen cracks as they all Disapparated from the clearing.
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"Master Sirius, Twinkie did as ordered. This is the piece of parchment that was in the wizard's pocket," said the elf as she passed the piece of parchment to Sirius.
"Thank you, Twinkie, that is all," said Sirius quickly as he took it. Reading it, he was able to picture Riddle Manor sitting innocently on top of a hill in Little Hangleton.
The Fidelius Charm had been compromised.
"Pass it around," he said to Croaker who read it himself before passing it to the rest.
"Form up!" barked Moody. "Divide into teams. Team Alpha, with me!"
"Team Beta, with me," said Croaker.
"Team Gamma, with me," said Amelia.
"Team Delta, with me," said Sirius quietly as his team assembled.
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"Well, well, well," said Bellatrix in a babyish voice as she walked towards the dungeons. "It looks like it is time for my daily session with our little babies! Oh! Who knew I would think of myself as a mind healer?" she said as she cackled with laughter. Oh, she was so amusing and she knew it!
She looked at the door to the room where Dylan and Daphne were imprisoned.
"Look out, look out, baby Dylan," she cooed. "Aunt Bella is here to kill you! And today she's going to take little Daffy too! Oh look, that rhymes!"
Bellatrix grinned sadistically as he flicked her wand and opened the door. Closing it, she turned, only for her eyes to widen in shock for an instant as a massive tigress pounced on her. A large grey wolf, much bigger than any mundane wolf came up to her other side and bit the arm clean off where she was holding the wand. Bellatrix screamed as her neck and arm broke in half, partially severed from her body, and she fell to the ground. Blood was pouring from her wounds and onto the floor.
"I never thought it would work," said Dylan, breathing hard, covered in blood.
"It wouldn't have if we hadn't acted so soon," said Daphne as she checked Bellatrix's body. "We only had a second to pounce on her, otherwise she would have killed us. She wasn't expecting any sort of attack and her overconfidence helped us, nothing more. Dylan! Look at this!"
"Our wands!" Dylan grinned. "It was so nice of Aunt Bella to keep them safe for us. Now let us get out of here."
"Wait, not yet," said Daphne quickly. She tapped her wand on top of Dylan's head until he was nearly invisible. She did the same to herself too.
"Disillusionment charm," she explained. "It may not work very effectively, but it should help us be inconspicuous."
"Good idea," said Dylan. They transformed into their animal forms and carefully crawled out of the dungeons, hoping there were no anti-Animagus wards.
There weren't.
Who expected two teenagers who were locked in a dungeon for four weeks with little food and constant torture – with no means of a wand – to become Animagi and escape?
Overconfidence had always been the downfall of great men and women in history. And history was about to repeat itself.
Karma ... that was the word to describe Bellatrix Lestrange as she died a painful, agonizing death several minutes later, ignored by everyone in the world.
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Thirty men and women Apparated to the village of Little Hangleton and slowly moved forward, applying Disillusionment charms in the process. They could view their target.
"Teams Alpha and Gamma, you are to engage any resistance we find outside and then make your way through," said Croaker through his magical communications device. "Team Beta will work on the wards around the manor. Team Delta, be prepared to sneak in."
"Yes, sir."
"All teams report ready."
"Begin Operation Gatecrash," said Sirius, his eyes hard as steel.
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Lord Voldemort stroked his wand with his long fingers as he observed the newest group of would-be Death Eaters. His eyes were not on them all though. No, he was searching for one particular person. This person had power, talent, and a strong hatred for Muggles – the perfect candidate for a future inner circle member. He would need such skills if he were to get rid of people like Sirius Black in the future.
All the witches and wizards assembled got down to their knees, just as they were instructed.
"Welcome, witches and wizards," said Voldemort silkily. "I have observed you all over the past two weeks and I am impressed with your skills. You all have shown the ability needed to become Death Eaters. The mark I shall bestow upon you would be the greatest honour of your lives. You will wear it with pride as it a mark that shows who you serve – Lord Voldemort. The ceremony will begin in a few hours, but first, I would like to talk to one of you."
"Alone," finished Voldemort, smirking at the youngest in the group. "Evan Wilson, stay behind. The rest of you may leave."
Evan rose to his feet as the rest of them cleared the room. Once only he and Voldemort were inside, he squeezed his hand tightly.
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"Algernon, it is nearly time," said Sirius through the tiny communication mirror studded in his earlobe. "How much longer?"
"It's nearly done, Sirius," said Croaker as he twisted his wand in a long, fluid motion, pointing it towards a silver instrument. This was the ward interference device which Sirius had given the Department of Mysteries after the attack on Potter Castle. Harry hadn't been lying when he had told Dumbledore that Voldemort had destroyed it remotely, but because of the distance between Riddle Manor and Potter Castle, it had not worked as well as it should have. The Unspeakables at the Department of Mysteries were able to repair the device and using Harry's blood, they were using the device to interfere with Voldemort's hold of the protective enchantments around Riddle Manor.
"The wards have been punctured," said Croaker through his communications device. "All teams stand by! Teams Beta and Delta, prepare to infiltrate the manor. Teams Alpha and Gamma, prepare to engage the enemy outside."
Sirius waited. Any second now ...
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"I must say, I'm curious about you, Evan," said Voldemort, his red eyes not leaving the face of the younger boy. "You're quite talented. But I'm more curious about your tale of why you hate Muggles."
"Oh, I hate Muggles alright," spat Evan. "It's because of my childhood, really. I grew up in an orphanage amongst those filthy beasts and I was abused because of my powers. But the reason I ended there was because of this Mudblood. I assume we will eradicate Mudbloods too, my Lord?"
"My record should prove that, Evan," said Voldemort with an arrogant smirk.
"This Mudblood was the son of a Muggle and a squib," said Evan. "He was a good friend of mine, to be honest. I really looked up to him as he taught me many aspects of magic. But this Mudblood didn't remain that way for long. He let his fears overrule his common sense and I suffered as a result. This Mudblood also made a fatal mistake. He took something which I consider to be the most precious to me. You, Lord Voldemort, are nothing more than a filthy Mudblood and a rabid dog and I'm going to reclaim the two people you stole from me."
Voldemort's eyes widened as the boy's features melted and changed right in front of his eyes. Red hair turned raven black, the cheekbones became higher and more pronounced, the lips thinned slightly, the skin tone lightened, the nose straightened and the brown eyes changed to vivid, emerald green. The unimpressive looking Evan Wilson was gone, to be replaced by the handsome face of Harry Potter.
Neither of them waited even for a fraction of a second. The wands slashed in the air as the battle began.
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"ATTACK!" shouted Sirius. The team of witches and wizards behind him followed as they burst through the front doors of Riddle Manor and began firing spells at all the Death Eaters they could see. The Death Eaters began fighting back and those who were guarding outside called for reinforcements. Soon, there was a battle being waged outside and inside the manor.
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The tigress and wolf stopped as they heard noises. Just then, they saw Rookwood running towards the entrance, his wand drawn as he spotted the attackers.
"Avada K –" said Rookwood, but he couldn't finish it before the tigress and wolf attacked him. Daphne again pounced on his back and twisted his neck, biting hard, while Dylan took care of the wand arm. Within a minute, Rookwood was disarmed and dead.
The two animals growled as they ran forward. The Ministry of Magic had arrived. Turning back into their human forms, they drew their wands as they joined the battle.
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Inside the throne room, the battle was deadly. Spells of every variety were flying everywhere as Harry and Voldemort battled for dominance. Voldemort was shocked that Harry had infiltrated his lair and actually fooled him for two weeks! But then again, he had never actually seen Harry duel before, so there was no way to recognise the fighting style.
"You shouldn't have come here, Harry," taunted Voldemort as he fired several Killing Curses at the boy. "You won't get out of here alive."
Harry said nothing as he fired several curses with two wands in hand. Held in his right was the Elder Wand, the so-called most powerful wand in existence. He had learnt a lot from accessing Dumbledore's memories and his new position as the master of the Deathstick was something he was curious about. In his left hand was his loyal Yew and thunderbird feather wand, as he used duel-casting to the best of his ability. After just a few minutes, Harry realised that the Elder Wand did carry a unique power. The spells coming from it were more powerful than Harry had ever seen before. Pure ripples of magic were all that he could see, a testament to the amount of control and power Harry had through the wand. Harry felt as though the Elder Wand was connected to him in a way he had never realised before.
The walls and roof of the manor were being blown to bits as they fought. The wood was transfigured into daggers which went flying at Voldemort, those of which were again transfigured into jet black serpents that Harry blasted to smoke. More animals were being conjured and the room was filled with attacking tigers, wolves, crocodiles, snakes and any other lethal creature or instrument. This was Transfiguration, Charms and Offensive Magic at its best. Just then, Voldemort released a large snake made of fire.
"You can't go against this, Harry!" yelled Voldemort as he laughed, the Fiendfyre Basilisk snarling behind him.
Harry slashed his wand as he released an almighty gust of wind, forming multiple tornadoes. The twisters appeared and surrounded the Fiendfyre snake, forcing Voldemort to recall the deadly fire. Harry immediately acted as he trapped Voldemort in the tornado, trying to control him, but the Dark Lord escaped, banishing the tornado back at Harry who disfigured it, completely destroying the manor and parts of the village around them. The Aurors and Death Eaters all fled outside, trying to save themselves from the debris and flying spells. While it was true that the Death Eaters were skilled, there were only three inner circle members left – Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan. The others were just not well trained yet, so the Aurors were able to gain the high ground.
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"You can't dodge me forever, Greengrass," snarled Rodolphus. "You'll pay for this! You killed my wife, didn't you?"
"I'll kill anyone who dares to harm the man I love," spat Daphne as she danced around him, avoiding the curses. "You should never have tortured Harry in the first place!"
"That filthy half-blood was asking for it," yelled Rodolphus. His eyes darkened in hatred as he looked at the girl who reminded him even more of his dead wife. It didn't take a genius for him to figure out what had happened to Bellatrix. The fact that she was not here fighting for the Dark Lord had clued him in and the blood all over Greengrass' robes was an indication that the girl and his nephew must have killed her before they escaped the dungeons. The loss of the family bond with his wife was the ultimate proof that he needed.
Daphne used a wide range of Charms, her speciality, as she did her best to bring Rodolphus down, but the older man was very skilled as well. Finally, just as she managed to distract him for a second, she transformed into a tigress and pounced on him.
Rodolphus' last thought was that he was going to join his wife before the massive jaws ripped his neck from his body, killing him in seconds.
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"I can't believe you would betray your own father," spat Rabastan angrily. "I gave you a chance to join me, Dylan, and you do this?"
"I have no father," yelled Dylan as his spells got deadlier. "My father is dead to me. I'm an orphan! My father would never have allowed me to be tortured every day for four weeks!"
Rabastan dodged the spells and upped his attack. "I was only trying to show you where you went wrong," he said furiously. "The Dark Lord is all-powerful! He would one day be the ruler of not only Britain but the whole world! Don't be a fool, Dylan! Come to your senses!"
"There is only one person who could ever be the ruler of the world," shouted Dylan. "And his name is Harry Potter! Not that snake-faced loser you call a master!"
Rabastan's eyes were slits of fury at the insult to his Lord. "Potter! Potter! Potter! If you love Harry Potter so much, then go join your so-called brother in misery! Avada Kedavra!"
The curse sped towards Dylan who dodged it, but it was still too close. The spell missed him by less than an inch. His grey eyes darkened, glowing eerily. He transformed into a wolf and howled in anger and pain of betrayal at his own father trying to kill him. Rushing towards Rabastan, dodging curses with more speed than any human, Dylan latched on to Rabastan's neck and yanked on it, biting hard. Blood dripped from Rabastan's neck as it snapped, but not before a dark cutting curse impacted the wolf.
Blood poured out of both man and wolf as they fell to the ground. Rabastan looked at the grey eyes of the wolf and his heart clenched in guilt. He shouldn't have done that. He had attempted to use the Killing Curse on his own son! And now, he had accidentally fired another spell that was slowly killing the boy.
In his final moments, he realised that he had been a terrible father. He had been given a chance to get to know his son, but he had blown it, putting the Dark Lord ahead of his responsibility to Dylan. Worst of all, he had allowed his sister-in-law to torture his own son for nearly a month.
Rabastan felt disgusted with himself. Oh, life was so unfair ... he was so close to death and he couldn't make amends with his son whom he had wronged so terribly. He hadn't even told the boy how proud of him he was, and how much he truly cared about Dylan. Tears pricked his eyes as he placed a hand on the grey wolf. Summoning all the strength he had, he opened his mouth to speak.
"I'm so sorry, Dylan," choked Rabastan to the large, injured wolf as he felt his life leaving him. "I failed you. Please forgive me."
The wolf whimpered in pain as Rabastan breathed his last. A few seconds later, caring hands took him in their arms. "Don't worry. We'll get you help soon."
Daphne was a mess too with blood all over her face and robes. She had several cuts on her face, but right now she was worried about the boy she had come to regard as her own brother.
"Hang in there Dylan," she whispered as she closed her eyes and turned on the spot, both human and wolf Disapparating with a crack.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Harry gasped as a cutting curse grazed his throat, drawing more blood. He was wounded badly. He had performed rituals to strengthen his body, making him heal much faster, but they were all weak as compared to what Voldemort had done to his body. He and Voldemort had been constantly duelling and Harry had lost track of time. Riddle Manor and parts of Little Hangleton were now nothing more than rubble. Unknown to each of them, Harry and Voldemort had just beaten the previous record of the longest and deadliest duel in wizarding history – the previous record which was held by Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald for their duel fifty years ago. This duel was for the history books.
Both Harry and Voldemort were feeling the strain of the duel now. They had transfigured everything possible around them, had charmed their environment to attack them, had cursed the life out of each other, yet both were not willing to give up. Harry did not notice a large snake slithering behind him, too focused on the battle.
Voldemort smirked, but Harry heard the angry hiss at the last second and dodged. The fangs impacted his shoulder instead of his neck. Snarling in fury, Harry slashed his wand and cut off Nagini's head in one swift motion, destroying the final Horcrux. Pain was spreading throughout his body as the venom infected him but Harry was not done as he fired another powerful blasting curse, destroying the Dark Lord's wand arm in the process. Voldemort looked furious, especially at the death of Nagini, but he realised that staying here was futile. Pushing himself up, he shot off into the sky, flying without the help of a broom. It was a common misconception that a witch or wizard needed a broom to fly. Just like wandless magic, broomless flight could be achieved too.
Harry, not yet having fully mastered the art of broomless flight, transformed into an eagle and flew after Voldemort. If the Dark Lord managed to breach the anti-Apparition wards, then all their efforts would be futile. He had to be killed.
Voldemort heard an eagle shriek. Just as he turned around to investigate, the sharp talons of the eagle clawed his face. Transforming in mid-air, Harry plunged Gryffindor's sword into Voldemort's skull, killing him instantly.
Then the two of them fell.
"Catch them!" screamed Amelia as she saw Harry fall with Voldemort, but it was too late.
Harry crashed to the ground. The Sword of Gryffindor was stuck in Voldemort's head as he looked back at everyone with lifeless red eyes, his body broken and mutilated.
Tom Marvolo Riddle had been killed by the boy who was prophesied to kill him. It was all over. They had won the war.
"Give me a Portkey; we need to get him directly to St Mungo's critical area! Quickly!" yelled Amelia. She checked for a pulse; it was very weak. Blood was pouring from Harry's head and other places in his body. He was losing blood at a rapid rate as the venom infected him. She grabbed onto him and disappeared in a flash of blue light along with another Auror.
Sirius limped forward, wiping the dirt and blood from his forehead. "Status report," he rasped out.
"We've captured all the Death Eaters who are alive," said Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt in a low voice. "We lost six Aurors, Minister. Remus Lupin is also dead."
Sirius closed his eyes in sorrow. Even if he had not been close to Remus over the last few years, they had been best friends for a long time before that.
"Take the bodies to the Ministry morgue and bring all the wounded to St Mungo's," said Sirius quietly. "Place a security detail around Voldemort's corpse. Contact the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes; get the Obliviators to modify the memories of the Muggles here and get them to repair any damage to the village too. Instruct everyone that none of them is to talk to the media without my express permission. I'll be at St Mungo's. I need to be with my family."
Seeing Kingsley nod, Sirius Disapparated with a crack.