Year Six - Chapter Twenty

All around me the Malfoy manor was crumbling down. Centuries of history burned, melted, and tore themselves apart as spells flashed and rays departed. There were flickers of green, and a priceless statue shattered. Sparks of blue, and an ancient cupboard became a deadly shrapnel. There were stray rays of yellow, and the floor caved in into pools of acid. We trudged upon them, we both.

I weaved patterns of spells and struck mercilessly at equally perfect shields of magic. Tom Riddle was a master of magic. Elder Wand or not, he was hardly the kind of foe that could be bested without decades of experience, or contrived plot-related reasons. My eyes remained fixed on his wand, the departure of the spell and the wand motion the only thing that would tell me if an Unforgivable, or something dark and deadly, would come my way.

The noise of the battle between the Draghuls and the Death Eater had grown dimmer, the burning inferno raging around us as we stepped deeper into the house that the Malfoy family had once called home, and which was now burning like a used matchstick. Smoke didn't bother either of us. Bubblehead charms, the very act of will of our magic, forcing the smoke to clear and keep us breathing properly.

This was a battle that couldn't properly be defined as someone having the upper hand.

If anything, tricks and treachery were granting me a chance, but a slip-up would mean a tumbling down of epic proportions, from which there would be little surviving.

"Remotionem Sanguis," Voldemort would curtly pronounce, sickly crimson strands twisting through the air towards me.

"Praesidium Sanguis," I'd retort, curtly snapping the strands in half mid-air. "Reading Dark books doesn't make you all-powerful; merely a weak man seeking agony over practicality!"

Narcissa's face morphed in an angry scowl. "You think you can school the likes of me?" Voldemort hissed. The flames surrounding us cast pale, greenish shadows across Narcissa's features. "You think you can teach something to the Dark Lord?"

"I think that I can do much more than that," I rebuked him. "I think I will make your Purebloods crumple. I think I will extinguish the bloodlines of filth and evil that you grew. I think I will exterminate all that makes the likes of you capable of ever standing up again. You are the first stepping stone on a road to a better future, so be cast aside, relic of the past! Go back to where you belong-history books on Britain's darkest hour!"

Speaking, as always, served the purpose of distracting him.

It worked little, though when twin spells bolted with flickering sparks of white in his direction, he swatted them both away with a single motion.

"So is this the power I know not of?" Voldemort laughed, "I know of this very well! For being Dumbledore's son, you are remarkably alike to me!" he twisted his wand forth, sizzling energy flickering across the air as it met a shield of steel, which it melted and then cast aside.

"Tom, I am better than you," I answered offhandedly, taking a small breath, "I wasn't killed by a newborn in a crib because I couldn't be arsed to stupefy their mother rather than kill her."

Voldemort froze, his eyes stared at the spot where I was, though he could not find my eyes, hidden behind the Invisibility cloak that every now and then fluttered in the currents of air. This was the greatness of the Dark Lord, I reckoned. Even when all he could see were my arms, or my wands, he still knew where to attack. Yet, as my words struck him, so too did my surprise rise.

He had understood what I was saying.

He had understood, and-and perhaps I had enough knowledge in-world to justify such a thing.

The end result would be the same. I had pushed a button.

I had pushed a button with such maniacal glee that there was little more I could do but witness the fireworks.

"You think you are so wise, so brave, so smart," Voldemort hissed. "To come here, to think you have a chance-" his voice was low, and threatening. "No one will come and save you, Dumbledore. No one will come, and aid you."

"That's all right," I answered plainly. "I come willingly alone; to protect those I cherish from the likes of you, Tom, what makes you think I wouldn't sacrifice everything I have?"

High pressure jets of water sliced neatly from the tip of my wands through the walls in a twin crescent arc against him. Icy winds of antarctic strength froze and shattered the deadly ice shards, which sailed like countless glittering daggers back in my direction. I swung both of my wands down, a pulse of air shattering into finer dust the ice, transforming it into a roaring hound that rushed forward.

A blast of concussive fire melted it in one go, but the water flash-exploded, grisly yellowish clouds dispersing a second later.

Narcissa's body betrayed her fatigue. Her hands betrayed her turmoil.

"Tick tock goes the clock," I spoke, "What mother would not die for the life of their son, I wonder?" I thrust my wands forward, and the sickly crimson jets struck, pierced, and shattered through the woman's shield.

Her fingers fell limp by her side, the locket around her neck widening its only crimson eyes as chains of steel and wrought iron formed to shackle her down, grabbing at her limbs and neck and frame.

"Y-You-" Narcissa hissed, "The smoke-"

"Piercing the bubblehead charm with a deadly toxin will weaken your resolve just like that, Voldemort," I acquiesced as I drew closer, Elder Wand sheathed in my pocket. "The benefits of having an Invisibility cloak is that you can't see when I'm throwing a potion at you behind a Gargoyle." I came to a halt in front of the figure, my left hand grabbing hold of the woman's shoulder as my right slammed the dagger to the hilt into the locket, much to Narcissa's and Voldemort's soul within, surprise.

"Also, I killed your basilisk, he was a pest and Hogwarts deserved better," I added, amiably, twisting the dagger further into the shrieking, wildly burning locket of Salazar Slytherin.

"You cannot defeat the likes of me!" Narcissa howled, her face going through the equivalent of the mother of all nervous ticks. "This body is mine!" she snarled. "This new life is mine!"

"Tom, Tom, Tom," I said amiably, pulling the basilisk dagger out with a tug to rip the locket itself off the woman. "It is time for you to die, and stay dead." I smiled, "But don't worry. I'll make sure you have company in hell."

"D-Draco-" there was a slurring to the woman's voice, even as I could see the strands of soul of Voldemort try to remain within the woman's body, "Draco-"

"Fight off Voldemort, Narcissa. Love is your greatest weapon against him; use that, and I will guarantee you that Draco will remain safe and sound," I acquiesced. "But you need to fight him!"

"He's too strong-he's-"

"He's no Dark Lord, just a shadow of a charming bully! He's a violent, evil man that would kill you and your family without a second of thought! He's petty and weak! Even a house elf would be stronger than him! You can fight him off, so you must-" something struck me in the back, sending me to fly against the flaming wreckage and making me roll amidst the ruins of the house.

I thanked the Blast-Ended Skrewt armor's magic-resistant abilities if I lived.

I cursed inwardly, but reckoned that the Elder Wand's allegiance hadn't yet changed hands, since I hadn't been defeated, merely set back a little.

"My Lord-My Lord!" Bellatrix called, drawing nearer to her sister, "I've come to assist you! I've-"

"D-Draco!" Narcissa screamed, clutching her head, "He'll-"

"Who cares about him!?" Bellatrix yelled, "Narcissa-stop fighting our lord! Let him take over! It's the greatest honor-"

"Bella. Shut. Up!" to my wide-eyed sight, I saw Narcissa's right hand slam the mother of all slaps into her sister's face. "Draco's my son! Dark Lord or not, I'll keep him safe, even from him!"

As the possession was coming less, I quietly stood back up. I couldn't let the risk of the Elder Wand having changed allegiance exist. I couldn't, and as I bitterly realized there was little of good in it, and a lot of selfish intent behind the entire thing, I still did it all the same.

A spell struck Bellatrix on the side, sending her to crash against a crumbling wall and showering her in loose bricks and pottery.

"Draco's life will be spared," I said as I dusted myself off, the Invisibility cloak still pristine and unscathed. "The battle is won-"

"He has another!" Narcissa blurted out, "He has-another-stupid woman, shut up-another object-" she gritted her teeth as she spoke, "My husband-"

"If he lives, he'll be spared," I continued.

"My sister-the cup of Hufflepuff," Narcissa grunted out, even as she clutched her throat from the effort of speaking with her own body betraying her.

"Good," I said with a nod. With a flick of my wand, I stunned her into an unconscious mess. With my other wand I flicked, and her body began to float behind me. I barely glanced at the crumpled heap of what was Bellatrix, and then hesitated, ever so slightly. "This is for the Longbottoms," I said in the end, swishing my wand down once, wordlessly.

I walked away, making my way to the exit of the manor and stepping out into a courtyard that was seeing heavy use. The Gargoyles were little match for expert wizards once the starting attack came less. It was just a matter of wearing down the protective enchantments, and then eventually they'd get shattered. Bits and pieces of stone and steel rested on the ground. Sure, they couldn't use some curses that required the opponent being capable of feeling pain, or having blood, or needing oxygen, but there were more than enough stone-shattering spells to go about.

Some pieces still crawled, their task at hand yet to be completed. "Malfoy!" I roared over the sound of battle. "Malfoy! Reveal thyself! Your master is dead and your wife is safe! A pact is struck, so reveal yourself and live!"

"I'm here!" a voice yelled, the Draghul upon the masked man missing a wing, and most of its tail. Yet it was scratching to break free from chains of stone, I extended one of my wands in that direction, and the Draghul ceased attacking. I threw Narcissa's unconscious body against him, making him emit a strangle gasp as they both fell on the ground and tumbled for a bit together.

"You live because of her," I drawled on, "Never again give me cause to come and fight you; next time, I'll slaughter your entire family line without remorse."

"Y-Yes, m-my Lord!" Lucius blurted out, even as he hastily began to retreat, barely holding on to his wife's unconscious form. I knocked him unconscious once he gave me his back. I sighed, and shook my head as I turned to stare at the survivors.

"I said he'd live," I spoke to the Draghul looking at me with a questioning look, "I never said he wouldn't be judged by the Wizengamot for his crimes."

It was unfortunate that, as the Malfoy Manor crumbled, whatever protection against Apparition there was broke. The moment it did, the few survivors fled, popping out as quickly as possible and leaving behind only myself, and the rocky remains of the Draghuls that hadn't made it.

"Thankfully I didn't bring Shadowdrake along," I muttered, "She wouldn't have survived; too big of a target."

I swished both of my wands forward, the cleaning charms so happily practiced and mastered, so too eager to work in cleaning the place of all traces of my Gargoyles. I didn't need to do a flawless job. I just needed the ability to feign either ignorance, or at least give reasonable doubt.

I had lost the Thestral, admittedly, which meant that as I walked away from the torn manor and reached for a slightly more civilized place, I had no choice but to lift my right hand in order to call the Knight Bus.

"Hello there!" the driver of the bus said, and then froze at my sight. I was wearing an Invisibility cloak, so most of my body was hidden. What wasn't had blood on it, or traces of scorch marks, or soot and ash. My hair was dusty, my skin flush with angry crimson signs.

I smiled back, "Do Gargoyles count as animals or objects for what concerns the ticket, sir?"

"Well-that is-eleven sickles each," the driver said.

I nodded, and pulled out a pouch with twenty-five Galleons. "Climb aboard lads!" I said to the survivors, watching as they stepped inside one after the other, much to the consternation of the rest of the passengers, "No biting people!" I added happily, "So...it's twelve Gargoyles-do those split in half pay double, or do they each pay half?"

"Ehm...half each, so one whole-" Stan said, blindly wondering if I ranked in the top ten strangest things he had ever seen.

"I'll also have a hot chocolate," I said as I gave him fifteen Galleons, "Keep the change-I'll just be taking the back seats if that's all right."

"S...Sure," Stan said, and then he closed the doors and sped off, much to my consternation as I ended up flying through the entire bus till the end of it, where a mollify charm kept me from impacting hard. The Gargoyles, the proud and bold stone statues that had fought Death Eaters and looked like grotesque splatter-movie props of SAW, widened their fiery eyes in shock at the speed, and those that could plopped their claws out to grip onto the floor.

"Look, I don't have a license for apparition or portkeys yet!" I said as I clutched the half of a Gargoyle that was accusingly staring at me. "When I do, you'll all become Portkeys and I'll Apparate, all right?"

This didn't make the Gargoyle's stare any less accusing.

Seriously, public transportation wasn't that bad in the Wizarding world...

...it got me back to Hogwarts in time for the Aurors to arrest me, after all.