Chapter 42

Time stopped Harry for a second as a shield rose in front of himself, defending himself from the assault of his least favorite professor. He would recognize that annoying bellowing of a cloak everywhere, as he lost the number of the times he wished his eyes worked as a blasting charm while the same person left the classroom, usually after insulting him, his friends, and his family while hiding behind the protection of Dumbledore to maintain his teaching post.

Severus Snape!

Harry was never as thankful for his Occlumency abilities, because only thanks to that, his burning fury transformed into cold calculation, his mind running a mile a second as he tried to strategize. Despite his advantages and strength, he was just one person, facing against eight Death Eaters, every single one with enough blood to make their souls shrivel and darken. After all, they were the team that was selected to kill Amelia Bones, who was the only candidate for Minister of Magic that could keep things together. Even worse, they had Snape. Harry hated him, but he wasn't idiotic enough to underestimate him because of that. A mediocre wizard could never play double-agent between Voldemort and Dumbledore, two titans of the wizarding world, each convinced of Snape's loyalty lay with them.

His first move already proved that despite all of his skill, Harry still had a lot of things to learn. With just one spell, Snape had forced him to sacrifice his biggest advantage, his invisibility. Four Death Eaters were already aiming for him, their wands glowing green, while three of them were casting shields. Meanwhile, Snape was preparing to cast a spell. It was a dangerous situation, one that would send many grown wizards in despair.

However, there was one big advantage of having his shitty luck. He had faced a professor possessed by Voldemort when he was eleven, killed a thousand-feet basilisk with a fucking sword, pushed back a horde of dementors. Even more importantly, he faced Voldemort and twenty of his inner-circle Death Eater when we were exhausted and wounded, nothing but a wand in his hand, and still fought.

This was nothing.

A saner person would have tried to dodge four Killing Curses that was flying toward him as soon as possible, shining bright green, afraid of the legendary reputation of the spell. Not Harry. He had faced that particular so much that it lost its fear effect on him. Now, he would have been more afraid the Death Eaters had cast wide-area blasting curses, forcing him to defend with a shield. He would be locked in a corner, revealing his trump cards just to survive. Instead, he didn't move, instead of casting four blasting curses in rapid succession, and he aimed them on the floor rather than the Death Eater themselves.

When the four Killing Curses were halfway, two waves of darkness appeared from Snape's wand, aiming at both sides at Harry, showing that he predicted Harry would roll away to avoid the Killing Curses. At that moment, all the years he spent on a broom, trying to avoid semi-sentient balls of metal determined to debrain him came useful, allowing him to react much quicker. He ducked under the curses instead, and the wall behind him exploded. At the same time, his blasting curses hit the floor, covering the room with dust.

He recognized Snape's voice as he incanted a spell to clean the air, but it took one second. One precious second that Harry used to his benefit. He rolled away from his initial spot while he triggered every single trap at the same time. A shimmering barrier appeared in front of him, protecting him from the debris while a series of explosions rocked the room, followed by wet meat hitting the walls. Desperate cries of pain were next, because the Death Eaters responsible for shielding had focused to defend themselves against the sudden threat of the blasting curses, leaving their backs blank.

It was a mistake they wouldn't be able to learn from. Their unconscious friend, who they thought to be harmlessly silent, was rigged with enough explosives to take down a normal building. The wizards were sturdier, enough to avoid death even against such a calamity if they were quick enough, but that didn't mean it was without cost. Even without his vision, he was sure that at least some of them were wounded enough to incapacitate them, while the rest would be distracted enough to freeze for a second.

Then, Harry let the transfigured creatures loose, and countless small critters mindlessly attacked the Death Eaters. He doubted that they would be able to achieve anything, but the distraction they caused without visibility was unparalleled. Harry dashed toward the nearby corridor and rolled out, about to kill when he felt twelve other cracks. Reinforcements! The death Eaters had really committed to it this time.

They were about to meet with a bad surprise, Harry thought as he stood still for a second. One long, vulnerable second where he was unable to do anything as he turned the Manor Wards on. The chaos it created was nothing compared to his little traps, the ancient protections exacting revenge from the intruders. Then, the anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards closed on, locking the Death Eaters in the manor.

It was going to be the biggest victory against Voldemort if Amelia could gather a semi-decent force. Because even with the full control of the ancient wards, he didn't trust himself to survive against twenty Death Eaters. He was good, but not that good.

He was planning to hide in the Ward Room, which would doubtlessly be a priority target of the Death Eaters. Against twenty of them, the defenses wouldn't hold for long, surviving several minutes at best. It would give him a fighting chance.

Just as he was feeling confident, the Death Eaters revealed another card, and a familiar chilly sensation covered the room. He cursed his luck once again. He predicted them to use Dementors, but only after Amelia had joined in. But they appeared early, and even worse than their presence, he felt Susan listening to his orders and casting a Patronus, revealing her position.

Fuck, he thought as he changed destination, cursing badly. Even worse, Susan's room was on the opposite side of the manor, and it was guaranteed that Death Eaters would reach her before him even if he dashed full speed.

Harry was fully aware that he was not a nice person, however, even as he cursed himself, he knew that a part of him stayed the same. He had a people-saving-thing, and even though this year's experience had softened it a bit, not to a point that he would abandon someone to the mercy of Death Eaters. Especially not a friend.

"Time to be crazy, Potter," he murmured even as he reached his pouch, and pulled a small object before unshrinking it. He wondered whether it was crazier to try to defeat a Dragon by flying on a broom, or fly indoor through the corridors of an ancient manor while there was a Death Eater attack going on, he considered as he mounted his trusty Firebolt.

He had a sinking feeling that he was the only one reckless enough to actually compare both.

Just as he mounted the broom, he felt the effect of Susan's Patronus weaken. Since it didn't disappear immediately, it couldn't be a Death Eater that found her. In that case, it was Dementors, quite a few of them if the speed her spell was fading was any indicator.

It was time to be reckless, he thought as he darted forward, not full speed but barely half, but considering the full speed of his broom was over two hundred miles, it didn't make it much safer. The wind echoed in his ears even as he applied the full range of his flying abilities to maneuvers, thanking his old Captain for every morning he had forced Harry to wake up and train…

Thanks to his phenomenal reflexes, his extended experience, and his enhanced thinking speed thanks to Occlumency, he achieved a minor miracle and arrived at Susan's room in two seconds. He even managed to blast a Death Eater from behind, redecorating the walls with his gray matter. He dismounted when he arrived at Susan's room, still wearing his cloak, doing his best to ignore the memories awakened by the combined aura of tens of Dementors. Voldie really put a lot on the attack, he thought even as he pulled his wand and shouted. "Expecto Patronum!"

He couldn't help but feel a bit miffed even as he cast the spell, because, with that, all the efforts he put to stay under the cover was wasted. His Patronus was famous, after all.

The sudden brightness kicked away the aura of despair, washing the Manor with a renewed hope, and every single Dementor escaped with a shriek of anger. However, when the brightness dimmed, Harry found himself facing an unfamiliar sight. Rather than looking at the comforting yet majestic sight of his father's Patronus, he found himself looking at a majestic lion, but instead of a normal tail, it had a head of a snake.

"A chimera," he found himself muttering. "How quaint." After all, a mixture of Lion and a Snake was oddly fitting for him. No Gryffindor was supposed to be sneaky enough to act like him, and no Slytherin was supposed to be suicidal enough to … well, he didn't want to count all the events he had been involved that would qualify.

He didn't have an hour to waste.

"Susan, stay inside," he ordered, removing his cloak momentarily to meet with her trembling face. One good thing that she was too shocked by Dementor exposure to insist on joining him. He walked toward the corridor, not wanting to turn Susan's room into a warzone. His Patronus roared intimidatingly, but rather than a sound, protective energy radiated thickly, pushing the Dementors back even further. Dementors left the wards, and his Patronus followed them, chasing them recklessly. Harry didn't call it back, as it was better for people to see the mysterious presence of a new player.

He could feel a great power attacking the wards, one too strong to be anyone other than Voldemort, and he was glad that he had already raised the ward. Facing him without the full protection of the wards was not something he wanted at the moment. Instead, he turned his attention to the corridor, quickly casting a few runes in the corridors, even as he cursed himself not doing it before.

The next time, he was going to embrace the overkill.

However, he wasn't able to think much about his strategic mistakes when two Death Eaters finally climbed the stairs and came face to face with him. They were smart enough to cast a revealing spell, not knowing that his cloak was able to hide him despite that. He considered waiting, as he could hear the footsteps of a few more, but he decided to act prudently. Two dead Death Eaters now was better than five possibly dead ones later.

Two of them failed to react as Harry cast an overpowered cutting charm from point-blank range, leaving their heads flying in the air with an expression of confusion. Before they could hit the floor, three others appeared at the end of the corridor. "Have a gift," Harry shouted as he banished still-flying toward the others, managing to shock them, giving himself just enough time to activate the explosive runes.

Two of them were too shocked by the flying heads of their compatriots to actually react, while the third one managed to defend himself in time by flying.

Without a broom.

Snape, he thought as he lashed out, even as he let his magic cut loose, casting as fast as he could, only for Snape to defend easily, using his ability to fly to a great benefit. Flying without a broom was one of the most famous abilities of Voldemort, and the fact that Snape knew that turned his loyalty into an even bigger question, not that it mattered much. Even if he was loyal to Dumbledore, Harry knew that his hatred toward Harry and Sirius was not fake. He might not touch Harry because he was afraid of Dumbledore, but Sirius didn't have the same protection. Snape had proved that in the third year, when he tried to use Fudge's idiocy to get Sirius killed despite Dumbledore's insistence. Of course, there was a chance that Dumbledore had engineered that scene intentionally to foster truth, but if that was the case, Harry would be more than happy to take Snape's head as payment.

The only problem, Snape was too good. Objectively, Harry was significantly stronger than him in terms of magical potential, but to counter that, Snape had a wealth of combat experience. His invisibility was in limited utility in the tight corridor, making Snape's flying more advantageous. It was a matter of time before he lost. His rationality suggested him to pull back, abandon Susan, and hope that he wouldn't be heartless enough to kill one of his students, but his heart rejected the call. Just as his new Patronus suggested, just because he connected with his opportunistic asshole side better didn't mean he suddenly stopped being a reckless, suicidal Gryffindor.

And a true Gryffindor might retreat strategically, but he would never abandon a friend when there was a shred of hope left, even that hope was bought with their life.

Suddenly, a weird yet familiar sensation appeared in his left hand. A familiar sword that saved him in the worst moment of his life. The Sword of Gryffindor.

However, it barely helped from a distance. He needed to get closer, and for that, he needed an opportunity. He rocked his mind even as he defended against Snape's furious assault, getting closer and closer to death as Snape got used to his rhythm. He needed something to turn the tides, and he needed quick.

Then, a crazy idea appeared in his mind, one so crazy that Harry should have dismissed immediately, but instead, he decided to use that. He cast an illusion to his face even as he slammed Snape's head with his legimency, bringing the battle to a mental plane. Snape immediately stopped casting, more than happy to bring the battle into a mental plane. A reasonable thing, considering once again, Snape was much more experienced than him when it came to combat applications, most of Harry's special tricks too long term to make a change. The only reason Snape didn't rely on legimency before was his cloak, preventing Snape from making contact. When Harry established one, Snape finally had the opportunity he was looking for.

But Harry had no intention of battling against him fairly. He put all of his power, pushing a certain memory to him. A memory that he had seen in Snape's own Pensieve, representing the fateful day he lost the friendship of Harry's mother after being mercilessly bullied by James Potter. Snape froze in shock, even his calm mind unable to handle facing his worst memory without a warning.

Still, even as Harry covered the distance wildly, he pulled his cloak down enough to reveal his head. But it wasn't Harry's face that Snape saw thanks to the illusion, but a young Lily Evans. "Snivellus," Harry growled, speaking with his own voice. Snape froze. His worst memory, followed by his hated insult delivered by a childhood crush he was yet to overcome. Even for Snape, it was too much to handle.

Even then, when raised his wand to cast a spell from point-blank range, Snape was quick enough to cast a disarming spell, trying to force him to defend. Harry let the spell hit, making Snape's eyes widen in shock. He realized he was trapped.

But too late. The Gryffindor's sword had already skewered his heart, spreading the Basilisk Venom immediately to his body. And Harry knew from experience just how bad it hurt. Harry let the illusion to fall. "Potter," Snape snarled in pure hatred, venomous enough to rival the Basilisk Venom coursing his veins.

Even then, Harry pulled the sword and immediately swung, cutting Snape's head. Snape was close to Dumbledore, and he might have Phoenix's tears to cure him. It was best not to take any risk.

"Potter," Snape repeated even as the shock of decapitation hit, his tone pure venom.

"Hello, Snivellus," Harry said with great glee. Then, he used legimency on him once again, pushing with full strength to steal his secrets. Snape was strong and experienced, but freshly-decapitated and being poisoned by the Basilisk Venom at the same time didn't exactly make it easier for him to control himself. Of course, the fact that he was killed by the son of his most hated person and his sick, desperate crush didn't exactly help. As Snape faded, Harry managed to pilfer a number of interesting secrets which Amelia was sure to leverage.

There was one that needed immediate action, however. His memories showed that he had the keystone for the anti-apparation wards Death Eaters had established. It was a precious item very hard to break according to Snape's memories, and Voldemort had the ability to recall it, though doing so removed the wards.

Too bad that Harry had a weapon coated with Basilisk Venom. He stabbed the orb, destroying it in one slice. The wards fell in an instant, and another set of Apparations rang across the manor. Harry registered twelve new presence in the Manor, each carrying a permission sigil. Moreover, he could feel the control of wards being contested by Amelia.

Cavalry had arrived.

With Voldemort safely outside the wards and Amelia with a numerical advantage thanks to his earlier actions, Harry let Amelia take control of the wards. He had contributed enough. The rest of the combat was Amelia's responsibility and if she couldn't handle it despite the great advantage afforded by her wards, she didn't deserve to be the Minister in the first place. So he picked his wand before dashing toward Susan's room.

"Harry," Susan stammered, still unable to stand up.

"Do you have any chocolate," Harry asked, and Susan pointed at a drawer, which was filled with various sweets. If it was a different time, Harry would have mocked her about junk food going exclusively to her amazing breasts, but he didn't have time. A scrap of memory he extracted from Snape showed him talking with Dumbledore about the attack, but Dumbledore apparently decided to do nothing, claiming Snape's position was more important than Amelia's life. Harry had doubts about whether it was the truth or a convenient excuse, but regardless, Snape's loss would send both Voldemort and Dumbledore reeling, which likely meant that he would summon Harry back to Grimmauld Place.

While Susan ate her chocolate, Harry quickly penned a letter to Amelia, scribbling a few suggestions, and put most of the memories he had extracted from Snape to a bottle. "Pass both of them to your aunt, and no one else," Harry said as he put them to her drawer, and cast a protection spell on them, when whispered the pattern of the counter-spell to Susan's ear.

"Are you leaving," Susan whispered desperately?

"Unfortunately," Harry said. "The battle is over, but it'll be too complicated to explain my presence. It's safer for both your aunt and you to be known that you have a mysterious bodyguard." He gave control of the wards to Amelia, but he could still feel the number of people, and their rough status. The number of people without Bones mark was falling rapidly, suggesting the fight was over, leaving only mop up. He cast a few spells on Susan's door just in case, stole one last kiss from her lips, and apparated away, with a still bloody sword in hand…