Flying Without A Broom
Good Days and Bad
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Five
~ Good Days and Bad ~
Bellatrix Lestrange was having a good day.
Everything was proceeding almost perfectly. Months of meticulous planning and design had finally led to this day, the day when that insufferable brat who dared to think he could challenge the Dark Lord for supremacy would finally receive his comeuppance. The so-called Boy-Who-Lived would soon fall into their grasp, his mind so clouded by Black Lotus that he would scarcely realize the danger he was in until it was far, far too late.
That had been the master stroke, doping the idiot boy into consuming the most potent Aquila known to the Wizarding World. Flint, one of the new generation of Death Eaters, had performed his task admirably - doubtless the fools guarding Potter still had no idea how the drug had been slipped into his drink. It could have just as easily been poison, which Bellatrix had originally proposed. The Dark Lord, however, most emphatically did not want Potter to suffer an easy death. Of course there were many poisons that would have caused the boy a great and long agony before finally killing him, but the Dark Lord was also most emphatic that Harry Potter was to die by his hand and his hand alone.
Even those hulking morons Crabbe and Goyle weren't stupid enough to go against their master's wishes in such a matter. The example he had made of Woodrow, who had attempted to assassinate Potter over Christmas - despite standing orders that not a hair on the boy's head was to be harmed, was more than sufficient deterrent to prevent anyone else from trying.
The only problem was that Potter was not cooperating. The dose of Black Lotus administered to him should have driven the boy into a euphoric stupor - exactly what they needed. Unfortunately, however, the little twit was reacting in a completely opposite manner to what was expected. It sometimes happened that Aquila would affect various wizards in different ways, which was probably what was causing the Death Eaters' current dilemma. Apparently Potter was bouncing around and tearing through the streets of Hogsmeade like a giddy three year old, running circles around his friends (as well as his pursuers) in the process.
Frustrating, to say the least. The only snag in an otherwise perfectly executed ploy, which was causing Bellatrix some small degree of annoyance. Still, it would not be long now. Hogsmeade was a fair sized village, but with a dozen Death Eaters combing the streets they would surely stumble across Potter before long.
The only danger was the chance that one of Potter's friends might find him first and spirit him away to the castle. That would not be good, since the Dark Lord had been most insistent that his servants not fail him in this endeavour. He had promised slow and painful punishment if they did.
At the moment Bellatrix and her companion, an annoying young Durmstrang whelp by the name of Vornholt, was making her way through the southern quarter of Hogsmeade. They had turned off Satissa Lane and into Wedgelock, when Vornholt suddenly grabbed her by the arm. It was only the fact that he also exclaimed his success and was pointing with his other arm, that prevented her from immediately hitting him with a particularly painful hex for such affrontary.
"There! Look!" he all but shouted, pointing eagerly at a figure two blocks down and on the other side of the narrow street.
Cutting back the words to the hex, Bellatrix peered at where he was pointing. It was a young man, dressed in Hogwarts school robes, a mop of black hair and round glasses. A predatory grin cut across her narrow face as she purred his name. "Potter."
It was clearly the Boy-Who-Lived, even from this distance she could recognise him with ease - his features etched into her memory during their encounter at the Ministry of Magic the previous year. And, much to her delight, the boy was obviously still under the effects of the Black Lotus. She had been worried that maybe the same resilience which kept him on his feet would perhaps be enough to flush the Aquila out of his system before they could find him. Clearly that was not the case. Better still, the dolt was heading straight to where they stood, blissfully unaware of their presence.
Vornholt, the unsubtle clod, made to charge down the street and start cursing. Bellatrix reached out and grabbed him by the back of his robes, almost causing the impertinent wizard to fall on his arse as she yanked him back.
"Idiot!" she hissed angrily at him. "Don't draw attention, either to us or him. We'll wait here before making our move. If you try anything without my order, our Lord will be seeking a replacement for your miserable carcass before sunset. Understand?"
"Yes, yes, sorry," he apologised, wisely stepping back and allowing her to take the fore. He might have been tempted to try and take the glory of capturing Potter for himself, but as the younger Death Eaters had soon learned after her release from Azkaban, doing such things while under the command of Bellatrix Lestrange tended to shorten one's lifespan quite dramatically.
Bellatrix gave the young man a sidelong glance for several seconds, appearing to gauge the sincerity of his apology, but not really. After all, Vornholt was a Death Eater. As such it was a matter of course that he didn't have a sincere bone in his body. Naturally, neither did Bellatrix, but in her case that was something she took pride in.
Resisting the urge to hex him anyway, Bellatrix decided that her companion was suitably cowed for the time being and turned her attention back towards their target.
By now Potter was only a block away, strolling along as if he didn't have a care in the world. Oddly enough the boy seemed rather... perky... for somebody that was supposedly filled to the proverbial gills with some of the most potent Aquila in the world. By all rights he should have been completely incapacitated --practically catatonic-- yet there he was, bouncing along with all the exuberance of a toddler on his first outing to Diagon Alley.
The silly grin on his face, which Bellatrix could now make out quite clearly, was already beginning to grate on her nerves. The Black Lotus was supposed to leave him at their mercy. It was not supposed to bring him anything even remotely resembling some kind of pleasure. For Merlin's sake the bloody brat was whistling! Whistling!
"Hogwarts!"
Bellatrix blinked at Harry's suddenly, rather vocal, proclamation.
"Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts!"
Recognition immediately sunk in and if she had been anyone else Bellatrix would have covered her eyes with a hand and started shaking her head in a mixture of embarrassment, disbelief, shock and no small amount of aggravation. As it was she settled for arching one of her eyebrows almost all the way to her hairline as Potter continued onto the next line of Hogwarts' school song, which he did --very off key-- to the tune of something that sounded like a polka of some sort.
"Teach us something please, whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees..."
"This is not happening," moaned Vornholt, looking at Potter with disgust written over his face for all to see. The expression soon shifted to one of anger as he growled, "The boy is making a mockery of us!"
Bellatrix cuffed the back of his head and snapped, "Shut up, you fool! He doesn't even know we're here."
Potter, in the meanwhile, was continuing to blissfully skip down the narrow lane. His head was thrown back and he appeared to be examining the few scattered clouds drifting overhead as he continued to sing. "Our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff."
"Follow me," Bellatrix ordered, giving Vornholt a sharp nudge to the ribs with her elbow as she began walking towards Potter.
"For now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of--"
Potter abruptly cut the song short and his head snapped in her direction, his eyes fixed upon her with the directness and intensity of a Muggle laser. He stopped his skipping and stood firmly in place, head turned towards where Bellatrix was standing.
Despite herself she was impressed by his awareness of his surroundings. She had been moving as unobtrusively as possible towards him and, even though the street was all but deserted, Potter should not have noticed her so soon in her approach. Only highly trained and alert Aurors would have reacted so, not some schoolboy who was supposedly stuffed to the brim with Aquila. She looked at him with raised eyebrows and voiced her thoughts on the matter. "Well, well, I am impressed."
"Soh-ho-rree, Mah-ham," Potter unexpectedly drawled after scrutinising her intently for several seconds. He sketched a short bow in her direction, cocking his head to one side as he looked at her with an expression of curious puzzlement. The horribly exaggerated twang was gone when he asked, "Do I know you? Do you know me?"
"Why, yes, Harry, you do," Bellatrix told him, hiding a smirk. Clearly Potter was so overwhelmed by the Black Lotus that his memory was drawing up a blank in regards to her identity. This was almost too good to be true, making her task that much simpler. Now all she needed to do was win the boy's trust and lead him straight into Lord Voldemort's hands.
She put on a smile that she hated, the kind she had used when making polite conversation to the gentry and other assorted idiots before her imprisonment so many years ago. Thinking back to those days she had to struggle to keep the vapid smile from becoming a sinister one. She knew exactly what to tell him.
"I'm an old friend of the family."
Potter looked her up and down, frowning. "Yeah... you do look familiar. Yes, you do."
"Your Godfather was my cousin," she told him, thinking that by telling him the truth she would stand less chance of accidentally tipping him off as to who she really was. It was difficult to keep her smile seemingly benign whilst thinking and talking of her treacherous relative. "You remember your Godfather, don't you? Bl - Sirius?"
"Yeah... you look... I think really might I know you," Potter was slowly bobbing his head up and down as he continued to regard her. His expression had shifted to one of intense concentration, something which disturbed Bellatrix, as such focus might clear his head enough for his to realize that she was hardly a friend of his.
"Come on Harry," she called, beckoning for him to join her on her side of the side. It would be easy to grab or stun him when he was that much closer at hand. Trying to spur him on, Bellatrix affected a look of wide-eyed anxiousness and glanced nervously over her shoulders and prompted, "It's not safe out here."
"It isn't?" asked Potter, sounding rather bewildered. He looked around, eyes slightly glazed and not really taking everything in properly. After a long, wide pan from side to side he looked at her again and shrugged, "Looks okay to me."
Bellatrix froze her smile in place and tried not to grind her teeth together too obviously. The ignorant little pissant was already starting to wear her patience thin. Careful to keep her annoyance out of her voice she waved him towards her again. "Looks can be deceiving, Harry. Now come here so my friend and I can take you someplace safe."
Potter blinked several times, his own insipid smile appearing to freeze on his face. The look of extreme concentration returned and his eyes focused on her. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before giving a slight nod. "I think I do know you."
"Come on, boy," demanded Vornholt, impatiently. Bellatrix again resisted the urge to hex her over-eager companion. "We don't have all day!"
By now she was having to forcibly restrain herself from cursing her idiot partner into oblivion. She should have chosen one of the others, Falk or Wyndham, instead of such an boorish oaf as Vornholt clearly was. His complete lack of tact and subtly was only serving to focus Potter's attention on them more clearly. Already the boy was on his guard, rather than been lulled into a false sense of security - which she had hoped to achieve.
"I know you," Potter repeated. This time there was an edge to his tone of voice. His eyes narrowed as he remained fixated solely on Bellatrix. "Yes... I know you."
"Harry..."
"I remember," Potter said, his voice sounding oddly detached now as he took a slow step towards where Bellatrix and Vornholt were standing.
"Shit!" Bellatrix cursed her luck, realizing that she had lost all hope of capturing Potter without a fight. Now, she could only hope that she and Vornholt would be able to subdue the boy without drawing too much attention to themselves. This, she knew, would likely not come to pass - especially when she recalled Potter's actions at the Department of Mysteries the previous year.
Potter was now openly glaring at her as he hissed, "I remember!"
Bellatrix drew her wand and aimed it at the boy, Vornholt next to her doing the same. Drawing herself up to her full height, she hissed back, "We're under orders not to kill you, Potter."
"I remember!"
She bared her teeth in a snarl. "That doesn't mean we're not allow to curse you into next week."
"I will kill you!"
This vehement proclamation gave Bellatrix a moment's pause. She could remember full well the last time she had encountered Potter - after all, it was not everyday that one of the icons of the Wizarding World cast a Cruciatus Curse on you. That, if nothing else, had impressed upon her the fact that Potter was far more dangerous than she had originally believed. While the curse had not been as powerful as one cast by a true dark wizard, there had been potential.
And now, having been freed from the restraints of his inhibitions and morals, Harry Potter was perfectly capable of doing exactly as he said he would. Bellatrix levelled her wand at his chest as he launched himself across the narrow lane. Potter was charging towards her with such sheer bloody-mindedness that he completely ignored the fact that two Death Eaters had their wands fixed on him, curses waiting on their lips.
"Stuporum!"
The curse was an offshoot of the more common Stunning Curse --a favourite amongst Gryffindors for some reason-- only considerably more powerful. It would render the recipient unconscious for the better part of two days if left untreated. When the poor sod eventually woke up they would be left feeling as though they had been trampled underfoot by a herd of centaurs and left to suffer with a mind numbing hangover.
By all rights the Boy-Who-Lived should have been sprawled unconscious on the ground. But he was currently in the grip of a righteous fury that was burning brighter than the sun. He was also under the thrall of possibly the most powerful and beguiling Aquila the wizarding world knew of. Add to this the fact that he was a powerful wizard in his own right and it should not have been too much of a surprise that Potter scarcely even noticed the curse as it hit him, slowing his progress about as much as a drop of rain would have.
Bellatrix had just barely enough time to experience one moment of consternation followed by another moment of blossoming alarm before Potter slammed into her with enough force to lift her clear off her feet. Snaking one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, he hoisted her into the air without breaking stride and proceeded to barrel straight through the storefront window she had been standing in front of.
As the glass shattered and sprayed around them, the multitude of tiny slivers and razor edged shards cutting into her robes and exposed flesh, Bellatrix began to realize that perhaps she had made a mistake in not thinking this scheme of hers through to its rather obvious conclusion.
All of a sudden, Bellatrix's day was no longer a good one.
TBC...