Well of Shadows
In the Shadow of Death
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Twenty
~ In the Shadow of Death ~
There was an indefinable moment of nothingness. Then with a rush the world blossomed into existence around Harry, leaving him standing midway between the secure walls of Hogwarts and the edge of the
Forbidden Forest. He blinked a few times to reorient himself before sparing a glance towards his reluctant companion.
"Relax, Malfoy," he told Lucius, who had Apparated down onto the grounds alongside him. A thin smile graced his lips. "Your son has yet to make an appearance."
"He doesn't need to," retorted Lucius, nervously licking his lips as he scanned the impenetrable blackness that seemed to writhe with a life of its own just within the boundaries of the forest. His grey eyes were skipping uneasily from spot to spot, trying to make out something within the shadows. "He could kill us where we stand."
Harry stifled an unpleasant smile, briefly closing his eyes. Thanks to the Order's influence he could feel the magic surrounding them, making it easy for him to pinpoint Draco's position ahead of them. He opened his eyes, looking to where he knew Draco would soon be emerging, aware of his presence only through the almost painful lack of normal magic at that one point.
He let out a deep breath, which he had unconsciously held while searching the magic surrounding them. His breath came in a billowing cloud of vapour, proving that the Well of Shadows was exerting a strong influence around the immediate area. He did not turn to look at Lucius, but could see the man shivering at the edge of his vision.
"True," he agreed. "He won't though. He'll want to talk first."
"Are you certain of that, Potter?" Lucius asked waspishly. "Or are you simply guessing?"
Harry could barely restrain the brief grin that caused his lips to twitch. He glanced away from the foreboding shadows of the forest and asked, "D'you really want me to answer that, Lucius?"
Lucius considered it. He swallowed nervously, shook his head, and muttered, "No. I think I'd rather you didn't."
*Here it comes,* remarked Beowulf, drawing Harry's attention away from Lucius.
Gin? he called silently. This is it. Get the others ready.
Ginny reply was laden with her worry for him, ~Just so long as you don't take any unnecessary risks, Harry. If you do anything stupid, like the last time, I'll be forced to kill you.~
Harry was too busy trying to watch what was approaching to reply. The shadows flowed out from the surviving trees bordering the edge of the forest. It was a disconcerting sight; hundreds of shapeless forms flowing across the ground like living quicksilver, darting from spot to spot as they steadily and inevitably drew nearer.
From the corner his eye Harry could see Lucius fingering his wand, caressing its slender length uneasily. Admittedly he felt much the same --as the gnawing disquiet in his belly proved-- but Harry could not risk having the older wizard setting his son off before the time was right.
"Steady on," he murmured, his eyes remaining fixed on the undulating shadows that were now rapidly drawing together roughly ten paces in front of them. He let out the smallest of breaths when Lucius visibly struggled to relax, though it was clear he desperately wanted anything but to face what was coming.
He watched, with admittedly morbid curiosity, as the shadows gathered into a single patch of darkness before them. It shifted and squirmed about, wisps of blue-black against coal black mixed with pitch-black rising up into the air like some kind of negative wraith. Harry found himself consciously struggling not to shiver as the cold surrounding him grew more and more intense with each passing moment.
Then, as the swirling trails of shadows that danced before them, the darkness seemed to coalesce and take on a definite shape. It was rough and lacking in detail at first, like an unfinished putty statue, but gradually a form began to emerge. As he slowly began to extract himself from the veil of shadows, which had slowly been consuming him these past months, Draco Malfoy spoke in a whisper that echoed strangely, as if being heard from a great distance... or a great depth.
"Ah! So very good to see you again, Potter," he said, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he took a step forward, his body now full formed. His voice had also regained its normal volume and timbre as he spread his arms wide in greeting and said, "Come here and give me a hug."
"Forgive me if I prefer not to," retorted Harry, appraising his long-time nemesis.
Draco had changed a great deal since Harry had last seen him, in a vision shortly before Halloween. Before his demeanour and appearance were now greatly at odds with the memories Harry had of the Slytherin boy that had hounded him for so long.
His clothes, no longer fine and expensive and stylish, were a simple set of tunic, trousers and boots underneath flowing robes. Their cut conveyed a vaguely martial air, somewhat Oriental in design, but with overtones of many other cultures - both Wizarding and Muggle. It was the latter that gave Harry pause, since Draco's disdain for anything Muggle was very well known. Clearly the Well's constant presence in his mind and body had caused great changes within him.
Turning his attention back to the wizard (if he could still be called that) himself, Harry noted with morbid curiosity the physical changes Draco had undergone. His once steel grey eyes were black obsidian chips that gleamed with some strange lack of light. They were set within his once refined features that were now such a pale shade of white as to have an almost translucent quality. What little light managed to penetrate the ever-present veil of darkness that cloaked Draco's entire being gave his skin a lustrous and ethereal quality - not unlike the silvery glow of a Hogwarts ghost.
All of this was framed by a wild, barely tamed mane that fell --shifting and rippling, as if in possession of a life of its own-- to his shoulders. Where once his locks had been a gleaming silver blonde, Draco could now almost be mistaken as Harry's twin, looking very much as if he too had inherited James Potter's unruly black hair.
Harry finally let his gaze meet Draco's burning black eyes and asked politely, "So, Draco, how's life been treating you?"
"Like a god," replied Draco brashly. He cocked his head to one side and asked, "You?"
"Not quite that well," admitted Harry, "but good enough."
"Oh, how delightful," Draco suddenly gushed with what was clearly artificial enthusiasm. He had directed his gaze towards his father, Lucius. Harry could almost swear that the black fire behind Draco's eyes intensified. "I see I've been fortunate enough to visit dear old Hogwarts on the same day as my beloved father. What a happy coincidence."
Lucius drew a long and, obviously, steadying breath before addressing his son in an imperious tone of voice that Harry knew would not sit well with Draco. "Lord Voldemort is not pleased with your recent... escapades, Draco."
Draco narrowed his eyes to fine slits and regarded Lucius in much that same way that a scientist would regard a rather common and uninteresting insect. It was a look that posed the question as to whether he would choose to merely examine Lucius... or squash him.
"D'you know what the worst feeling in the world is, Father?" Draco asked abruptly, his eyes growing wide so that his black irises were surrounded by shining white. He waited, in that calm and so patient way that only the truly insane can achieve, until Lucius cautiously shook his head. His lips, pressed tightly into a thin line, twisted into an almost sad smile as he told his father, "It's slowly going mad and knowing there's nothing you can do about it."
"You know," Harry realized, speaking out loud in his surprise.
*Interesting,* commented Osiris, *Never in all of the Order's few encounters with it has the Well ever realized its insanity.*
Draco smirked and answered, but did not turn his eyes away from Lucius. "Of course I know, Potter. I'm not an idiot like you, prone to stumbling about like a blind fool - completely ignorant of what's going on around me."
Harry was puzzled by this and asked, "Then why'd you let Voldemort change you?"
"I didn't know then," was the sardonic reply, one that brought a dangerous smile to Draco's lips and an even more dangerous gleam into his eyes. Not for a moment did his let his gaze waver from Lucius as he added, "Now that I do... now that I know to what extent I was betrayed... I will be sure to take my revenge on everyone involved."
"Avada Kedavra!"
Lucius, his nervousness finally getting the better of him, had drawn his wand in a swift and practiced motion. He levelled it at Draco's chest and shouted the Killing Curse, causing a blast of green light to cross between the short distance almost instantly.
It passed right through Draco - as if he were not really there.
"You have done something most unwise, Lucius."
A concussive blast of shadow erupted from Draco with all the suddenness and unexpectedness of a dormant volcano blowing its top off. The discharge, however, was not aimed at Lucius, but rather at Harry. He was only just able to raise a quick shield before the roiling wall of black shadows slammed into him with unbelievable force. Had it not been for his Shield Charm, Harry doubted he would have weathered the blow without injury. As it was, Harry was lifted up into the air and knocked across the lawn, coming to a jarring landing nearly twenty paces away from where he had been standing.
"You have made me angry," he could hear Draco saying coldly, although the ringing in his ears made the words warble oddly. Draco's voice managed to grow even colder, accompanied by frigid waves of barely controlled anger. "And the Well of Shadows can be most unpleasant when he is angry!"
"Stay back, boy," Lucius ordered frantically. "Stay back!"
Harry looked up from where he lay, sprawled on the ground, and watched as Draco began to bear down on his father. The young man slowly drifted forward, his feet scarcely even touching the ground. All round Draco the air was swirling with thin tendrils of icy mist which was rising up from the earth and being caught in the nearly invisible vortex of power emanating from him.
By now Lucius was visibly panicking. He levelled his wand at Draco's feet and shouted, "Erupto!"
With a resounding crack and a deep rumble like distant thunder, the ground at Draco's feet exploded up around him in a shower of rock, stone and earth. It was like watching an avalanche rushing upwards instead of down a mountain slope. The force Lucius had put behind the spell was clearly evident in how high some to the rubble was launched, some of it quite large, rising high in the air before dropping down like a rain of cold brimstone.
But Draco was not there.
Just as Lucius had cast the spell Draco had skipped to one side, yet at the same time appeared not to have moved at all. As the upheaval ended and the dust slowly began to settle, Draco looked over from where he was standing, and contemplated the torn up patch of earth he had been passing over. He looked back to his father and said mockingly, "If that's the best you can do, Father, I'm going to have to kill you."
Lucius was clearly becoming desperate. With Hogwarts sealed off there was nowhere for him to run, so all he could do was try to fight. But if a Killing Curse had no visible effect, then it was unlikely that anything else would. The next curse he tried was the Cruciatus Curse, only to have Draco bat it off with contemptuous ease. Then Lucius, apparently hoping to weaken the Well by driving back the oppressing shadows which seemed everywhere, swept his wand in a tight arc.
"Conflagrio!" he yelled, crackling flames shooting outward from him.
"Ah! You wish to make a fight of it then... so much the better," said Draco, nonchalantly stepping through the wall of fire between him Lucius. He spared a glance over his shoulder at the fire, which was abruptly engulfed and extinguished by rising shadows.
Harry watched, unable to bring himself to move and intervene, as Lucius began to hurl curse after curse after curse at Draco. He used predominantly Dark Arts spells to begin with, but soon found himself using whatever sprang to mind as he began to back away. His steps were small at first, but soon Lucius was stumbling back with such haste that he was almost tripping over his own feet as he went. It was no surprise when he stumbled and fell to the ground, bracing himself with one arm while keeping up a steady stream of spell and curses with the wand held in the other.
All this time Draco continued to steadily draw nearer and nearer to the panicked man. He ignored those curses that struck him with no effect and occasionally stepped to one side as a massive explosion or ball of flame or something similar passed through where he had been standing. More often than not he continued through whatever was thrown at him as if it were no more harmful than plain air. Finally he came to a halt at Lucius' feet, even though his father continued to shout off curses and tried to scrabble backwards.
"My dear father, honestly," Draco said disparagingly. He shook his head with faked pity and said in an almost shamed tone, "If you're not embarrassed for yourself, then I most certainly am."
Calmly, and with casual lack of effort, Draco reached out with one hand and plucked Lucius' wand from his hand. Holding it up for inspection, as Lucius looked on with dread, Draco sniffed dismissively and discarded the wand by tossing it over his shoulder. He smiled down at his father and, again with a casual lack of effort, reached down with one hand and picked Lucius up by the throat.
Draco effortlessly hoisted Lucius into the air with one hand, despite the fact that his father was still a good deal larger than Draco (even after the changes the Well had brought about within him), and held Lucius a good foot off the ground. Lucius, for his part, was undeniably terrified beyond reason, clawing and scrabbling and punching and kicking at Draco with all his strength. Nothing he did seemed to move the Well by even the smallest of margins, serving only to cause the hand clasped around his throat to slowly tighten. The look of unadulterated terror that grace Lucius' face was horrible to see.
It was nothing, however, compared to the apprehensive prickling sensation that was running slowly up Harry's spine from the small of his back.
"Goodbye Father," Draco said casually, as if he were merely passing Lucius in the street, rather than strangling the life out of him. "I trust you will reserve a place for me in Hell."
Darkness gathered around the hand Draco was holding his father will, writhing and heaving before leaping forth and piercing into Lucius' exposed flesh. Almost immediately Lucius began to scream, his cries swiftly growing into an agonising wail that was almost deafening, even though Harry was over twenty yards away.
The shadows emerging from Draco's hand wrapped around Lucius, slithering over and around him in what seemed to Harry like a dreadful parody of snakes wrapping themselves around their prey. The piercing screams continued, rising louder and shriller with each passing second. It seemed impossible that a man could continue to scream for so long without pausing for breath, but Lucius' howls died not falter for even a moment.
Merciful gods, Harry wondered, watching with terrible fascination. What is Draco doing to him?
~Harry, can't you do anything?~ he heard Ginny pleading, her inner voice sounding and feeling as shaky as his own.
Just listening to the relentless wails was enough to make Harry sick to his stomach. The shadows attacking Lucius almost completely covered him, yet still he continued to scream. The only relief Harry could find was that the shriek no longer sounded even remotely like something a human could manage, perhaps signalling that Lucius' end was near. Then, even as the screams continued to pierce the darkened air, the form dangling in Draco's grim seemed to diminish.
It's too late to do anything for him, he told Ginny, watching as the twisting and squirming shadows began to draw back into Draco, seemingly being absorbed into his hand. As the shadows withdrew, so the still struggling form of Lucius began to come undone. With horrifying slowness, the shadowy remains flicked about and dissipated, as the tortured shrieks trailed off into a silence that seemed deafening in the aftermath of such noise.
Of Lucius Malfoy there was not a trace left, not even his clothes.
~Screw this~ Ginny announced, her voice thick with fear. ~Harry get the hell back up here and away from that, that... just get away from it! We'll set the trap off from where we're both safe...~
Doesn't work that way, Gin, he cut her off, finally finding the strength he needed to force himself back onto his feet. Standing up he struggled to at least give off the impression of being composed, even though he wanted nothing more than to throw up everything he had ever eaten throughout the course of his life. He swallowed as Draco let his arm fall limply to his side and then turned to face Harry, a satisfied --almost replete-- smile spread across his pale face.
"Ready to die, Potter?"
Harry shook his head and rejoined with more confidence than he felt, "I've been dead before. You should try it; it's very liberating."
Draco laughed. "Hardly. I have no intention of dying, even though that fate is inevitable, without taking what I want from this place - and all the people inside."
"Like father like son," Harry said, deliberately trying to goad his opponent. Draco was powerful beyond reason, his only weakness attainable through his own carelessness. Harry shook his head as if in disappointment. "I see you're just the same."
"I am nothing like my father. Lucius was just a greedy old fool," retorted Draco with an indifferent wave of a hand. He did not rise to the bait. "Greed is for amateurs. I'm aiming for something a little higher."
Harry arched an eyebrow. "That being?"
Draco grinned insanely and told him, "Genocide."
"You're insane," Harry declared, once the implications of Draco's answer began to impact on his mind. He carefully, so as not to draw attention, began to gather the Order's power to him.
"I know," rejoined Draco, still grinning. "It's even more liberating than death."
"I'm not joking, Malfoy," insisted Harry, drawing his wand. "You are in-sane."
Draco half nodded. His grin faded and was replaced by a serious expression. "Perhaps. Either way, I'm still going to kill you."
Harry raised his wand and assumed a duelling position. "You can try."
"And I shall succeed." Draco raised his left hand before him, and curled his fingers as though grasping something with them. As before, when he had killed Lucius, ripples of shadow formed around his hand. This time the tendrils gathered in his palm and stretched outwards, growing denser and thicker and more defined in their shape.
Harry swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and returned his wand to its place within his robes. He would not be needing it. Not for the fight that would be soon be coming his way. After all, wands were very seldom instrumental in a swordfight. Even a magical one such as this.
"Care to duel, Potter?" asked Draco, twirling the shimmering black sword he was holding about with an unnatural ease and confidence. The wicked blade, long and curved, seemed to be shifting and squirming about in a hazy blur of solid darkness.
"Not particularly."
Draco leapt at him, moving wickedly fast. He was like a living shadow, shifting about like the dancing patterns caused by a fire. Harry could not help but find himself admiring the sleek and smooth fluidity of the attack as Draco rushed. The shadowy blade leapt out at Harry, whistling through the air with a rushing sound preceding it - a noise that was not far removed from the tortured shrieks of a damned soul, such as Lucius Malfoy had made only minutes earlier.
As he had during their previous duel, at the first Practical Fighting Techniques class, Draco came at Harry with all the primal fury of an untamable Hungarian Horntail. The sword was a blur of a blur as Draco swung at him, clearly intent on ending this battle quickly, rather than drawing it out as he had with his father.
Harry, however, had a great deal of advantages over the late Lucius. As lightning fast as Draco was, Harry was just as fast. As lithe and nimble as the shadows made the Well, Harry was just as flexible and dexterous. And perhaps his greatest advantage - where Draco was attacking with an almost animalistic ferocity, Harry was reacting with a calm precision that enabled him to duck under, to the side and around each strike that came at him.
It was not easy, however, and far too often Draco came within a hair's breadth of slipping his blade past Harry's defences. Realizing that he would not be able to hold Draco off for very long without a weapon of his own, Harry back flipped away from the rampaging wizard, gaining enough space for him to call on the Order's power to conjure a sword to him. He did not particularly care which sword, be it his personally forged katana, the sword of Gryffindor or even the dagger Hagrid given him for his birthday the previous year.
No sword arrived.
Draco smiled viciously, baring his teeth in a snarl as he charged at Harry, quickly closing the distance Harry had made for himself. He was swinging wildly, recklessly, but moving so fast and erratically that Harry could not risk attempting to meet any of the attacks.
*Duck left!* came a sudden cry.
Instantly he dropped to the ground, falling and rolling to his left, gaining as much ground as he could before rolling back onto his feet. The urgent call from Heracles had saved his life, but not spared him a glancing blow. Draco's sword had cleaved through the air at an unexpected angle and just missed him, slicing a shallow trail across Harry's shoulder.
It was an agony that almost caused Harry to fall to the ground again. Coldness such as he had never felt before, even while standing face-to-face with a Dementor, had gripped his shoulder at the moment of contact. The numbing cold had spread rapidly down his arm and already Harry could no longer feel his fingers. He glanced down, while Draco was still whirling to face him, and saw that while he had lost all sensation in the limb, he still had full use of his hand and arm.
Why the devil can't I conjure up a sword? he asked, back stepping when Draco tried to disembowel him. He followed up with a backwards leap as the sword returned, managing to jump clear over the blade that would have taken his legs off at the knees otherwise.
~He's put up some sort of ward. It's such a different kind of magic that the Order can't penetrate it. At least not quickly enough to help you~ Ginny explained, having already had time to talk the matter over with the Order, since she was not fighting for her life at the moment. Her thoughts were desperate as she urged him, ~Transform! You might not be able to kill or stop him in your Griffin form, but at least you'll be safer!~
Harry ducked into a low squat, narrowly avoiding decapitation as Draco's sword brushed through his hair and actually sliced a few strands off. He came up in a low drive and slammed his elbow solidly into Draco's chest, knocking the other wizard back half a dozen paces. Harry took an equal number of backward hops, gaining ground as he focused on the techniques needed to make the Animagus transformation.
Agonizing pain lanced through his temples, almost knocking him to his knees, and Harry gasped out at the feeling. A grey mist encroached around the edges of his vision, testament of just how close the pain was to overcoming him. Laughter reaching his ears caused Harry to look up --he had bent over and grasped at his head-- to see Draco looking contemptuously at him.
"Did you honestly think I wouldn't anticipate something like that, Potter?" Draco asked, letting his sword trace intricate patterns in the air. He spat to one side and regarded Harry scornfully, "I remember very well how you dealt with my dragons. Even with all the power and abilities being the Well of Shadows grants me... I'd rather not have to face down an overgrown fur ball with wings."
"An anti-Animagus ward," Harry concluded, reaching out with his senses through the dull ache that remained behind his eyes. Now that he was aware of it, Harry could feel the layers of magic creating the ward. Oddly enough, considering its creator, the newest ward to be applied to Hogwarts and its grounds was remarkably beautiful in its construction.
Uncountable threads of delicate black, grey, blue and purple shadows wound through the air and weaved around and between each other. It was a tapestry of unfamiliar magic that Harry could not decipher, but only appreciate for its elegant design. He was about to complement Draco on the beauty of his creation when he realized that the duel had already resumed.
Harry was barely able to escape being skewered by the lunge Draco performed. He twisted on his heel at the very last instance, the tip of the sword tearing at his robes. Jabbing his hands at the ground, Harry magically pushed himself into the air and high above the return stroke Malfoy had twisted into. Sailing over and across the lawn, Harry alighted only to be immediately set upon by Draco.
The strain of maintaining this battle was beginning to wear on Harry. He was utilizing a good portion of the Order's available power to boost his reflexes and speed, but was still barely able to keep himself ahead of Draco's relentless attacks. The pace was so fast that Harry not once found an opening to attempt any kind of retaliation, being forced to focus all of his attention solely on staying alive and try to lure Draco to the spot they wanted.
*Harry, your foot movements...*
Beowulf, who had been keenly watching the action, tried to warn him, but it was too late. Harry had been immersed in an intricate dance around the flickering blade Draco was welding. Thus he had been too preoccupied with avoiding the sword, letting his attempts to shift out of the way be mostly reflexive, to notice that his rhythm was being disrupted.
His foot settled in just the wrong way at just the wrong time, as he was turning to avoid a downward slice from his left. His ankle twisted at an awkward angle and promptly caused a chain reaction that propelled Harry backwards and onto his side. He hit the ground rolling, feeling the icy cold of Draco's sword brushing against the back of his neck.
*...leave something to be desired.*
Dammit, I can't keep this up much longer! he replied, twisting and turning to avoid a quick series of jabs by Draco. Each one seemed to edge just a fraction closer to him than the last, heightening his desperation.
~But how can we fight someone - something that's literally made of shadows?~ asked Ginny, who was anxiously watching the fight from up on the ramparts. Harry could feel that it was taking all of her willpower not to abandon her position there and rush to his aid.
*It’s not as if you could simply light up a torch,* responded Beowulf. *It takes a lot more than that to dispel such darkness as this.*
Harry kicked out and smashed the heel of his right boot into Draco's left knee, causing the young man to stumble for a second. This was all he needed to gain the time he needed and gather the power required to supply one incredible burst of light. Even though it would only last a second, a fraction of a second, it would be enough (he hoped) to temporarily forestall Draco's advance.
As Draco righted himself, lifting his sword high above his head with both hands, Harry levelled his right hand at Draco's stomach. Grunting with effort he forced all the power he could manage, without turning himself into a charred cinder, through his fingers and unleashed a bolt of lighting, containing enough power to light London for a week, directly into his opponent.
Harry wasn't too sure about what exactly happened since the world vanished in a flash of brilliant white, followed by a concussive blast that lifted him up and slammed him back into the ground with enough force to break three of his ribs. The clap of thunder that accompanied his effort was deafening, not only to Harry but also to everyone else. He would later learn than people as far as fifty miles away had heard the explosive sound that blew Draco nearly fifty yards away from him.
He did not fully lose consciousness, but it took a great deal of effort before Harry could force his eyes to open. Gasping for breath, his entire body numb and aching painfully as the sensation of pins and needles suffused him, Harry rolled onto his side and struggled unsteadily onto his hands and knees. He looked around in a daze, his vision blurred and obscured by shimmering dots and squiggles of every colour he could imagine.
Pushing himself up and onto his feet, stumbling uncertainly as he fought to regain his equilibrium, Harry finally spotted Draco's stirring form. With a barely audible hiss through clenched teeth, Draco flipped himself onto his back and hopped nimbly onto his feet. He spun around to face Harry, teeth bared in a savage snarl. His chest was a smoking ruin of charred flesh, burnt deep enough to expose the white bone of his ribs with gleaming black and pulsating organs visible beneath them.
"Was that supposed to hurt?" he growled, his voice ringing deeply.
"Uh huh," nodded Harry, unable to do more than that at the moment.
Draco's savage grin grew broader, as fine strands of shadow played over his smouldering body. The darkness shifted and coiled over the gaping wound and, with a sickening wet noise, took on the shape and form required to heal Draco's injury. More threads of black slid over the freshly formed skin of his chest, replacing the fabric of his clothes that had been burned away by the lightning. With a testing flex of his shoulders Draco hissed, "Didn't."
Harry shook his head and groaned, Oh, this cannot be happening.
*Now's not ze time to worry about zat, 'Arry,* chided Joan, her accent thicker than normal as she gave vent to her own mounting concern over the situation.
Please, he pleaded, please tell me this is all just a dream.
~Harry?~ Ginny was calling for him, but he only heard her as if from a great distance.
This is a nightmare, he concluded. I want to wake up.
Biting down on his lip to suppress a scream of pain from the sharp pain that lanced through his chest, Harry forced himself to stand upright. He blinked rapidly and shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision. He squinted at Draco and dimly took in where the two of them were standing in relation to each other and everyone else.
Ginny call his name again, more urgently this time, ~Harry...~
Now, Gin! he ordered, realizing that his impromptu lightning bolt had succeeded in knocking Draco into the position he had been so desperately trying to lure the Well to. Do it now! Do it!
~But you're too close!~ Ginny protested, ~You're practically on top of him. You could be caught--~
Dammit, Gin, just set it off! This could be our only chance!
He had known exactly what to expect. The memories of the Order's encounters with the Well of Shadows were storied in perfect detail. Harry and Ginny had spent hours analysing them and becoming familiar with the act of dispersing the Well. But, as in so many things, the reality proved to be a far cry from simple recollection.
Though he did not see it from his position on the ground, Harry knew that Ginny had directed a stream of precisely controlled energy towards a single point directly above where Draco was standing. The complex invisibility fields that shrouded the various working parts of the trap, hiding them from Draco's attention, immediately fell away. Dozens of specially grown crystals hung suspended in the air, surrounding Draco from all angles, their sharpest points directed inwards at the Well.
Lines of shimmering magic lanced out from the first crystal, the one Ginny had poured the Order's power into, intersecting with other crystals. In rapid succession the magic reflected from one crystal to the next, joining them to each other in an intricate network of glowing energy. The trap hung poised around Draco, who was casting puzzled looks at the iridescent web that caged him so unexpectedly.
More beams of light began to emerge from the crystals, bouncing back and forth in a complex dance of mystical forces that grew more tightly interwoven as it progress. Then one stream of energy struck inwards, impaling Draco through the chest. Instantly a hundred identical spears of light followed, the crystals which produced them beginning to glow brightly with barely contained power.
The atmosphere was electric, prickling the short hairs on the back of Harry's neck with the feeling of crackling power suffusing the area surrounding the trap. Backing away, he watched as Draco howled, in what was either pain or fury, as the multitudes of concentrated magic seemed to somehow swivel in place. The diffusion prisms came into place as the charged energy slid over their smooth planes, creating an uncountably greater number of magical beams which speared into the centre of the trap.
The diffusion streams crisscrossed so tightly where they met that Draco disappeared from view, his shadowy form overwhelmed by the growing brightness. Harry tried to shield his eyes from the glare, only to find that he could see the outline of the bones in his hand. He turned his face away from the trap, feeling the pull as the magic permeating the region was drawn in, being used to boost the trap's energy beyond what Ginny and the Order had poured into it.
A deep, rumbling thrum began to sound, slowly rising in pitch, higher and higher. The multitudes of shimmering lines of force began to take on a principally bluish tinge, illuminating everything in a soft, dreamlike haze. As the intensity of the light dimmed, Harry glanced back to see Draco impaled by the intricate lattice blue beams. By now the sound emanating from the dispersal field he and Ginny had designed and created was a shrieking whistle, easily putting the Hogwarts Express to shame with its shrillness.
The sudden silence was shocking in its totality.
There was a shattering sound, like glass breaking, as the dozens of focusing crystals floating around Draco cracked. As the thick fractures ran through the facets, the crystals' blazing inner fires were instantly extinguished, the shimmering lines of energy emerging from their tips flickering out just as rapidly. Their task over and their internal magicks completely disrupted by the load they had been forced to carry, the crystals dropped. They shattered into tiny shards that lay scattered on the ground, like a sprinkling of diamond dust, sparkling under the blue light that still lit up the air above them.
Now the diffusion prisms, set to hover closer to the ground than the crystals, twisted onto their sides, the light emanating from their slightly, but precisely curved planes shifting smoothly from blue into a deep red. Blood red, in fact, which gave Harry a moment's pause as he could not remember such an occurrence being part of any of the other times the Order had dispersed the Well of Shadows. Ultimately he ignored this deviation as being merely a result of initializing the trap in such a magically infused area as the Hogwarts grounds.
With a flare of mystical energy, rushing outwards like a nebulous wave of chilling black mist, the prisms went dark. The deep red glow that had illuminated the grounds slowly faded. Following behind the shadows that had been sucked out of the Well and thrown to the four winds, was a thick wall of soupy fog that quickly settled over the grounds, obscuring everything from view.
Did it work? Harry asked squinting at the spot that had only moments earlier been a whirlpool of perfectly aligned forces. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear away the spots that obscured his vision. He could still see an afterimage of the bones in his hands, as well as the network of energy that had disrupted Draco's solidity and consequently his existence. Everything also retained a slightly reddish hue, which gaze the slowly scattering fog a disconcerting pinkish tint.
~I think so~ replied Ginny, a bit uncertainly. ~It must have; since nothing's happened and we, and everything else for five miles, are still in one piece.~
Harry laughed with relief and almost collapsed to the ground, but managed to keep himself upright. The biting cold of the cut to his shoulder made by Draco's sword was slowly beginning to fade, but the numbness of it still ran through the entire of his right arm. Massaging the aching limb, Harry decided to make his way to the centre of where the trap had once stood and see if anything of Draco had somehow survived the Well's dispersal.
"You dare... you... ha... ha..."
Harry paused and stare in complete consternation at the sight which greeted him. Standing in the centre of a small and shallow crater, surrounded by a fine mist that was rising up from the ground... was Draco.
And he was beginning to laugh.
"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!"
~I don't know about you~ remarked Ginny of the sight, which was now visible to those on the battlements as well, ~but I do not like the sound of that.~
It didn't work? Why? What's happening?
*What has happened,* answered Merlin, sounding very grave, *is that the energy dispersal pattern was erroneous. Rather than scatter the Well's energies, the trap has amplified them.*
*In other words,* explained Isis, *he may have just become the most powerful being imaginable.*
Ginny's voice sounded a bit faint, almost what Harry would call shell-shocked, but with a heavy layer of sarcasm spread over it to hide her mounting fear. ~Oh... joy. Just what we've always wanted...~
Draco shook himself off, just as a dog would get rid of water soaking its fur, and smiled at Harry with clear maliciousness. "That was hardly what I'd call sporting, Potter. Whatever happened to that damn fool Gryffindor honour and nobility?"
"Frankly I think it would be wasted on a monster like you," answered Harry.
"A monster? Moi?" Draco placed a hand over his chest, mimicking a fatal blow to his heart. He cackled with insane mirth and said with a flourish, "I may be a monster, Potter, but nothing you and your little Order can do will get rid of me any sooner, for I am as constant as the Northern Star, of which there is no match in all the heavens."
Harry arched both eyebrows, surprised that Draco would know anything about Shakespeare, who was a Muggle, let alone have read any of his plays. Still, he could not help but correct his opponent's slightly flawed quotation, "'Of whose true fix'd and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament'."
*Now is not the time to taunt him, Harry…* admonished Sun Tzu sternly.
What else can I do? He asked in return, a feeling of helplessness beginning to settle over him. The trap they had set was the only known way of dispersing a Well, besides simply waiting for it to fade away on its own.
Draco waved the correction aside and laughed again. Calming himself he looked straight into Harry's eyes, his black orbs virtually glowing with wicked intent. "What's the use of a good quotation if you can't change it a bit? That fact remains, Potter, that the world is but a stage. We're merely players... and it's time for you to exit stage left!"
With even and measured steps, that were actually rather menacing, Draco began to approach Harry. His eyes remained firmly fixed on Harry, just as they had when he had drawn up to Lucius and subsequently butchered him. Harry tensed when Draco abruptly halted and threw both hands up into the air above him.
"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, POTTER!! AND I WILL BE THE ONE TO KILL YOU!!" he roared, his voice accompanied by a sudden gale of ice-cold wind that swirled around them both. Debris from the path he had torn through the Forbidden Forest was kicked into the air, as rain once again began to fall from the low-lying clouds.
Lighting flashed across the sky as the shadows bordering the ruined forest rose up in waves that poised themselves just before that instant when they seemed about to break and come crashing down upon the two combatants. Draco's long black hair whipped around his face, buffeted by the strong wind and seeming almost alive in its movements. A demented smile played over the Well's face as he continued to shout.
"ALL WILL BE FORCED TO ACKNOWLEDGE ME AS YOUR EXECUTIONER!! ME!! DRACO MAL-" his voice faltered for a moment and a disbelieving expression flashed across Draco's face. He blinked in confusion, once, twice and then finished speaking in such a small voice that he sounded almost childlike, "-foy?"
And then, with only that as a warning, the world exploded.
TBC...