Mysteries

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is the property of J.K. Rowling and her publishers. Anything you recognize belongs to her. I am not making any money from this.

Chapter 22: Mysteries

Hermione emerged from the cellar of the Riddle House into a scene of chaos. Amid the broken furniture and shattered glass, the unconscious forms of four young men were sprawled on the floor. Harry and Ron were squatting down next to a fifth man, helping him sit up. Recognition took a few moments to penetrate her overloaded emotions, then she cried, "Viktor!" She hurried to join her friends.

Viktor smiled ruefully up at her. "Herm-own-ninny," he wheezed painfully. "I am very happy to see you safe."

"You're injured!" she exclaimed. Directing her attention to Harry, she asked, "What happened to him?"

"His leg is broken, I think," Harry replied.

"I haff also, I think, a broken rib," Viktor added. "It is difficult to breathe."

"Do you know how to repair broken bones, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"No," she said regretfully. "We should get him to a Healer."

"There's no time! We have to get to the Ministry," Harry decreed.

Ron gestured toward Viktor. "Well, it's obvious that he won't be coming with us. What should we do?"

"Leaf me!" Viktor exhorted. "Go after the Dark Lord."

"No!" Hermione objected.

"We can't leave him here," Ron agreed. "And what about Remus?"

"Here," Hermione said decisively to Ron and Harry. "Stand back." She pointed Snape's wand at Viktor's broken leg. "Ferula!" A moment later, a splint affixed itself to the injured limb and was rapidly covered as bandages wound about it. Using a Slicing Hex, she cut a long strip of cloth from the bottom of Viktor's cloak. She wound the cloth snugly around his ribs, securing it with a Sticking Spell. "Ron, find something he can use as a crutch."

"No need," Viktor said, drawing a miniature walking stick out of his pocket and enlarging it with a muttered, "Engorgio."

"Excellent!" Hermione said with satisfaction, giving Viktor an encouraging smile. "Well, help him up!" she directed Harry and Ron.

"Remus is downstairs, Stunned. Can you get him out of here?" Harry asked Viktor as they heaved him to his feet.

"I do not think I can manage the stairs like this," he answered, regarding his leg doubtfully. "But I vill go for help. Who should I contact?"

"Get Nymphadora Tonks," Ron said without hesitation. "Besides being an Order member and an Auror, she's his girlfriend. She'll be at her parents' house. Use the Floo at the Three Broomsticks."

Viktor nodded. "I vill."

"And tell her to alert the Order about Voldemort's raid on the Ministry," Harry added. He glanced sidelong at his two friends. "We are going to need some backup there."

Viktor disappeared with a crack. The three friends rapidly bound the still-unconscious Death Eaters.

"Okay, let's go," Harry said. "First we should Apparate to the old Headquarters. We can Floo directly into the Ministry from there and avoid the scouts Voldemort has outside the building."

"I can't!" Hermione objected, holding up her wrist to show them the bracelet. "It's an Anti-Apparation device. One of you will have to take me."

"I'll do it," Ron declared, grasping her upper arm possessively and pulling her closer to him.

She stared at the hand on her arm for a moment. Later.... I'll have to speak with Ron after. If there is an after, she added mentally. With a last glance toward the cellar where Severus lay, she said, "I'm ready."

They Apparated to the back garden of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Harry unlocked the door with a word and a wave of his wand. Once inside, he turned to Hermione. "We need to take a minute to teach you how to power meld with us. I have a feeling that I'll need both of you to shore me up when I face Voldemort."

Ron grinned. "Piece of cake, Harry! If we learned to power meld in fifteen minutes, Hermione will master it in about one!"

*****

The center fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic flared up, green flames rapidly resolving into the spinning form of the young man known as the Chosen One. He stepped out of the hearth; the flames leapt high once again. Hermione appeared, followed rapidly by Ron.

"Where to, mate?" the redhead asked.

"To the lifts. We need to get to Level Nine."

Hermione's eyes widened. "The Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes." They made their way across the Atrium and through the golden gates, Harry in the lead.

From the shadows, a rasping voice cried, "Avada Ked..."

"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouted before the curse was completed.

"Stupefy!" Hermione yelled an instant later.

Harry threw himself forward on his belly as a Death Eater collapsed in front of the lifts, Stunned. His partner, now disarmed thanks to Ron, charged forward frantically, apparently intending to bowl over Ron with his greater weight. Harry had a perfect view of his legs. "Tarantallegra!" he cried.

The man's feet flew out from beneath him, jerking wildly as he crashed to the floor.

"Stupefy," Hermione said in a firm voice, and the man went limp.

"They should all be so easy," Ron commented wryly.

"Fat chance," Harry answered under his breath as Hermione bound the Stunned men and confiscated their wands. The guards were both young men. Voldemort's long-time servants would not go down with so little effort. "Come on," he sighed, punching the down button to call a lift.

"Quite a collection of wands you've got there, Hermione" Ron commented sourly. He eyed Snape's with obvious dislike. "How is it that you can use that one so effectively?" he queried. "I thought another person's wand is usually not compatible."

"It's not as easy to use as my own wand, but surprisingly, it's fairly compatible with my magic," she returned. Ron looked disgusted by the idea, but wisely restrained himself from commenting further. "I think," Hermione continued thoughtfully, "that it may have a dragon heartstring core, like mine." The rattle and chime of an arriving lift saved Ron the trouble of coming up with a non-confrontational answer. It opened with a clang and they hurried inside.

As the doors crashed shut, Hermione suddenly remembered the Impenetrable Potion. "Sheesh!" she cried, smacking her forehead in exasperation. "We could have been killed out there! Where is my brain?" As the young men looked uncertainly at one another over her head, she rummaged through her pockets, eventually drawing out the two vials she had taken from Snape. "Here!" She pushed a vial into Harry's hands. "Drink all of this!" she commanded. "It will protect you from just about anything Voldemort and his Death Eaters can throw at you." She held up the second vial. "You and I can split this one," she said, handing it to Ron. They drank their allotted portions quickly.

"Okay, if there are guards in the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, the lift will have alerted them that someone is coming," Harry reasoned. "Take defensive postures and have your wands at the ready," he directed.

They moved to the sides of the lift and waited. When it opened, a series of nasty hexes, including a Reductor Curse and a Slicing Hex, impacted against the back wall. A stray Stunning Hex ricocheted off the ceiling grazing Ron's side, but a potion-induced shield flared as it reacted, effectively blocking the hex. Harry dropped into a crouch. "Stupefy!" he yelled.

"Stupefy!"

"Stupefy!"

Three jets of red light streaked out of the lift, one after the other. A dull thump indicated that at least one Stunner had hit a live target.

"Stay back!" Harry cried to his friends, reluctant to let them take the brunt of the attack with only half a dose of protective potion. He leaped through the doors. "Expelliarmus!" But the hex failed to connect. Damn! He blocked me!

A red jet of light flashed toward him – a nonverbal curse apparently, as he heard no incantation. However, it never reached him. The curse impacted a golden barrier inches from Harry's body, spending its power harmlessly on the shield. Insensibilius!" Harry returned, aiming straight at the chest of the Death Eater. He watched in satisfaction as the man crumpled directly in front of the plain black door that had once haunted his dreams.

"Come on!" He sprinted down the hall, Ron and Hermione on his heels. Yanking open the door, they were faced with the dark anteroom and its numerous exits. "Any clue which one leads to the Time Room?" he asked the others.

Ron shook his head. "Nope."

"Me neither. I don't even know if the same door leads to the same place twice in a row," Hermione said, biting her lower lip nervously.

"Great," Harry remarked sarcastically as he closed the outer door. As before, the room began to rotate until the multitude of doors was a blur before their confused eyes. "I'll just try whichever one is across from us when the room stops spinning."

The revolving room slowed, grinding to a halt. Harry pulled open the nearest door into a cold, dimly lit room that resembled a stone amphitheater. There, in the center, at the bottom of the tiers of benches, was the crumbling archway with its tattered black veil. Harry stared, transfixed for a few moments as he remembered how Sirius had fallen through that arch, never to return. His heart contracted painfully, jerking him back to the present. "Let's get out of here," he growled, turning back to the anteroom.

They tried two more doors, remembering to mark those they had already been through. The second was the Brain Room, which Ron flat-out refused to enter. The third led them into a high hall full of towing shelves, blue-flamed candles and faintly-glowing dusty glass globes: the room where the Prophecies were kept.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "Didn't this room connect directly to the Time Room the last time we were here?"

"It did," he said softly.

"Maybe we should go through here," she suggested. "It would be more of a surprise than entering directly from the anteroom. All that spinning and grinding is bound to have alerted the Death Eaters that someone is on their way in."

"Good idea," Ron chipped in. "This is as good a starting place as any. Besides, I don't fancy going through too many of the other rooms here." It was clear that he was thinking of the room where the brains resided. Hermione and Harry were just as reluctant to enter some of the other rooms. "Do you have a plan, mate?"

Harry bobbed his head affirmatively. "I'm not exactly sure what I will do, but I have an idea where," he said cryptically. At his friends' puzzled looks, he tried to explain. "There's a room here, somewhere, that I believe will aid us. From what Dumbledore once said, it contains a great power. I have a very strong feeling – call it intuition – that I have to confront Voldemort there, in that room."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. Clearly she was extremely worried about staking all their hopes on his intuition. "Are you certain, Harry?"

"More certain than I've ever been before."

"What room is it? Do you know where it is?" Ron asked.

"No, but I'll recognize it when I see it. Professor Dumbledore said that it is kept locked at all times. Remember when we were here two years ago, there was a door we couldn't open? That's the room we need," he said definitively.

"We had better map out a route to it from here then," Hermione suggested in a shaky voice. She was ever logical, even in the face of her fear.

Looking around, Harry spotted a door to the left and gestured to the others. "Let's start over there."

Their chosen door led into a darkened room which resembled a holographic planetarium. Planets, moons, comets, and thousands of clustered stars hung unsuspended in the air, each of them rotating, orbiting and sometimes even pulsing in a spectacular celestial display. Awestruck, the young people turned from one wonder to the next, lost for a few moments in the grandeur that surrounded them. "It's like we're inside a model of the galaxy," Ron breathed.

"The... the doors.... Find the doors," Harry directed, shaking off the overwhelming sense of amazement that had held them nearly spellbound. He threaded his way between the stars. In the dim light he could just make out a door on the opposite side of the room. The door opened into the chamber of the arch. He closed it.

Hermione located a door on the right hand side of the room. It led to an office, stuffed with no less than five desks as well as a multitude of filing cabinets. Two doors led from this room. The first proved to be useless, as it led back into the high room containing the Prophecies. The other opened directly into the Time Room.

"Shit!" Ron exclaimed, slamming the door shut in the surprised faces of a dozen black-cloaked figures that had looked up as it opened. "Colloportus!" he cried, sealing it behind him. He sprinted after Harry and Hermione, who were already retreating back they way they had come.

Harry raced through the galactic center then veered left, avoiding the entrance to the chamber of the arch. He jerked open another door to reveal the room with the tank full of brains. Ron skidded to a stop. As one, Harry and Hermione each grabbed an arm, propelling him into the eerie room.

With a flick of Harry's wand, the door crashed shut behind them. "Colloportus!" he added.

"That won't hold them for long," Hermione gasped. "We'll have to ward the doors to keep them out!"

"No! Just ward the one we came in through," Harry insisted. "Otherwise, we'll be trapped."

Hermione was already putting his advice into action, warding the planetarium entrance with a complex wand movement as she muttered incantations under her breath. Ron appeared frozen in place, staring at the tank of brains with a horrified expression.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, jerking the redhead out of his semi-trance. "Let's see where the other doors lead to." Striding across the room, Harry listened at the right-hand door. Hearing no voices on the other side, he eased it open, only to find yet another entrance to the chamber of the arch. It seemed that every room in this labyrinthine department had access to that one. Access to death, Harry thought, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.

"This one is locked!" cried a muffled feminine shout from the planetarium chamber.

Harry looked over his shoulder nervously. Hermione stood motionless before the door, Snape's dark wand trained upon it. She glanced his way, and he saw both fear and determination in her eyes.

"I can hold this ward stable for a little while, Harry. But it can still be broken by a more powerful witch or wizard," she informed him. He nodded woodenly.

"Harry!" Ron called hoarsely. "This last door won't open!"

Harry whipped around to find his friend standing before a most unusual entry. Easily twice the width of the other doors they had encountered, it had arcane symbols engraved along the lintels. There was no handle. "That has to be it!" he said fiercely, hurrying over to Ron.

"Stand aside!" A high, cold voice ordered from the far side of the door Hermione had warded. "They cannot keep me out."

Voldemort! Harry thought with a surge of fear. "Hermione, leave it. We're going in here!" he shouted, indicating the entry in front of him. Abandoning her task, she sprinted to her friends. Behind her, the door to the planetarium began to vibrate and groan under Voldemort's onslaught.

Harry pushed on the wide door before him, but it was immovable, locked, as its entry from the spinning anteroom had been nearly two years before. Taking a deep breath, a feeling of tranquility descended over him, emanating, perhaps, from the room before him. All at once, he understood what he had to do. Harry glanced quickly to either side; his friends were there, at his shoulders. Grim though their faces were, he felt their love for him, the true essence of philadelphy, flowing from them like a never-ending river. He brought his parents to mind, then Sirius, and finally his beloved mentor, Albus Dumbledore. They were gone, but the love they had given him remained in his heart, in his soul. He placed his palms flat against the door and, pushing gently, smiled as it swung inward. He entered.

At that moment, Voldemort breached the wards to the Brain Room, and the door shattered with a deafening blast. Unconcerned, Harry walked resolutely to the center of the new room, surrounded by the nearly blinding light. Ron and Hermione followed, maintaining their positions to the side and slightly behind him: an arrowhead penetrating deep into the heart of the mysterious.

To Hermione, it was almost overwhelming. The pure feeling – like a swelling wave – was filling her heart, expanding her chest with its power. It's love, she thought dazedly, an infinite, all-encompassing love. 'Agape' the vicar had once called it, she remembered dimly. From the corner of her eye she saw Ron reach up to swipe at the tears tracking down his face. She raised her own hand, not surprised to feel wetness there. "It's so much more than eros," she whispered in awe.

"Now," Harry said in a calm voice, "meld with me." His eyes were fixed on the doorway. Ron and Hermione followed his gaze. Watching them from just outside the room, stood the tall, skeletal figure of Lord Voldemort, seemingly hesitant to enter. Harry felt his friends' power flow into him. It was a coiled, hidden strength, crouching like a tiger as it waited for its prey to move within striking distance.

"Potter!" called the shrill, cold voice of Voldemort. "You cannot escape from me! I will hunt you forever! You may as well face me now, boy."

"I am not afraid to face you, Voldemort," Harry replied evenly. "Come in, then! We will get it over with once and for all." Behind Voldemort, the clustered forms of Death Eaters could be seen and heard, glancing fearfully at their lord and murmuring to one another. Harry knew that Voldemort dared not refuse to face him in front of his followers. He waited.

"Prepare yourself, Harry Potter," Voldemort screeched from the doorway. "At long last, you are going to join your parents!"

As his nemesis stepped through the opening, Harry's wand snapped up, automatically assuming a dueling stance. At Voldemort's second step, a high-pitched, hissing whine escaped his throat. His face twisted into a fearsome mask of pain.

"Pleasant ambiance in this room, isn't there?" Harry asked his foe casually.

Voldemort didn't answer. The powerful essence that permeated this place was like poison to him. Pain upon pain! Love sought to enter into him, to fill his heart, his mind, even the remnants of his maimed soul. But he fought against it – forbade it entry. Love is ephemeral; only power is eternal! screamed his intellect. Suddenly, he raised his arm to throw a curse at his enemy. "Confuto Pectus!" A jet of sickly orange light arced towards Harry. Inches from his heart, it impacted against a golden barrier, spreading sideways as it diffused. Voldemort's slitted eyes widened. "You!" he spat. "You have my potion!" His red eyes darted to Hermione, belatedly registering her presence and realizing its ramifications. She is immaterial, he decided. I must concentrate on Potter. Glaring at his young adversary, he hissed menacingly as he considered his next move. Nothing blocks the Killing Curse. However, lifting his arm to cast the Unforgivable proved impossible. His wand jerked and twitched in his grasp as his arm muscles refused to obey his will. It's this cursed room! he thought desperately, feeling wisps of pure feeling prickling him, infiltrating his superficial defenses. The longer I stay here, the worst the effect will become.

Retreat was not an option. Should he do so, he would lose face in front of his Death Eaters. His control over them was as dependent on their fear and loyalty as it was to their cause of racial purity. I must kill the boy now, before this pain overpowers me. He forced one foot forward toward Potter, intending to kill him with his bare hands if necessary, but the movement only served to double his agony. The pain was a hundred times – no – a thousand times worse than when he had tried to possess the Potter brat nearly two years ago! He gasped, rolling his scarlet eyes in desperation and anger, and in that moment of distraction, his enemy struck.

"Coercio!" Harry shouted.

The spell hit Voldemort with a bolt of force, encasing him in invisible, magical restraints. Quickly, the confining net of magic drew tight, preventing all movement. With a cry of hatred that stung the very ears like venom, he strained against his bonds.

Dimly, Harry heard shouts and the noises of fighting outside the door. The Death Eaters battled for their cause against the forces of light; Order members had arrived and engaged. He ignored them all, concentrating every fiber of his being on holding the monster before him immobile. He felt power flowing into him from his friends, an inexhaustible fount of energy, like their love for him. "Hold fast," he said through gritted teeth. "We will break him."

Voldemort's eyes bulged with effort as he strove to free himself, but to no avail. Tendrils of love began to penetrate his defenses, burning like tongues of flame. He could not advance to kill Potter. He could not retreat to escape the anguish lancing into his very being. His screech of pain seemed to rend the air in that bright room, but still he was unable to break the deadlock. In desperation, he considered abandoning his body. His Horcruxes would secure his soul to the physical plane. He could possess one of his followers until a new body was made. The pain escalated. Ah, agony! he moaned internally. I must do it! I will leave this body!

Closing his eyes, he centered his consciousness. He was accustomed to this technique, having used it repeatedly to possess his familiar, Nagini. On those occasions, he placed only a portion of his essence into his familiar, retaining a foothold of awareness within his human body. But this time would be different: he must desert his corporeal form altogether, becoming nothing more than consciousness. With difficulty, he focused his mind away from the pain, gathering every iota of his formidable will into a tight nucleus of energy. Confidently, he reached out, searching for his servants. One of them will provide a compatible receptacle.

For a moment, he sensed many Dark souls outside the room and began to gravitate toward their evil. Suddenly, he felt an irresistible tug and found himself being sucked forward at an ever increasing speed. Unanchored, he thought frantically, I am not anchored to this plane! With a sense other than sight, he saw an ancient stone archway before him, growing larger and larger as he approached. Noooo! His consciousness wailed soundlessly, as he was drawn through the tattered black veil that covered the arch. The cloth fluttered as if it had been ruffled by a gust of wind, then grew still.

In the Room of Love, in the Department of Mysteries, the tall, skeletal body of Lord Voldemort crashed lifelessly to the floor. Harry, breathing heavily, lowered his wand.

"Is it over?" Hermione asked, her light voice piping into the silence like a bird greeting the sun after a storm.

"Yes. He is dead," Harry said raggedly. "Truly dead this time."

Ron squeezed his shoulder in tired acknowledgement, then dropped his arm to his side. "Just as Dumbledore predicted," he observed quietly. "It was love that defeated him in the end."

******************************************************************************

Author's Notes:

1. According to the HP Encyclopedia at Mugglenet, Hermione's vine wood wand has a dragon heartstring core. As Harry's has a phoenix feather and Ron's a unicorn tail-hair, her wand core of dragon heartstring rounds out the trio nicely, giving them, collectively, the best qualities of all the different wand cores.

2. Three types of love defined by the Hellenistic Greeks (there are at least five total), are: philos, eros and agape. Philos or philadelphy (a somewhat more modern term according to the Oxford English Dictionary) is brotherly love. Eros is sexual love. Agape is a limitless, immeasurable love for humanity or the world, exemplified by the love God (or gods, if you believe in more than one) has for his creation. Although agape is more currently used to define a Christian 'love-feast' as in the Lord's Supper, I have chosen to use the broader, and more antiquated meaning.

3. Why couldn't Voldemort throw the Killing Curse at Harry? It requires powerful hatred to effectively cast Avada Kedavra. Fortunately for Harry, the Room of Love effectively suppresses hatred.

4. Coercio = to restrain, confine or enclose. Confuto Pectus: confuto = halt or stop, pectus = heart (all translations via an on-line Latin to English automated translator).

5. I managed to insert another Lord of the Rings quote in this chapter. When Harry ensnares Voldemort with the Restraining Spell, Voldemort reacts "With a cry of hatred that stung the very ears like venom..." This is from The Return of the King (The Battle of the Pelennor Fields) wherein Eowyn fights the Lord of the Nazgul (who issues the venomous cry). I like the idea of equating the Lord of the Nazgul with Lord Voldemort. In addition to all their superficial similarities (tall, skeletal, red-eyed), they have both made that classic literary bargain: eternal life, in exchange for everything that makes life worth living.