A Single Moment

“Harry, can’t this wait until tonight?” George grumbled as he and Fred were pushed into the conference room by Ginny. “You know we don’t like for both of us to be out of the store while it’s open…”

“You’re going to be busy tonight,” Harry said shortly, shutting the door and pointing at the chairs; Fred and George took their seats with ill grace. “You’re going to be coming with me and Ginny to Ernie’s house at ten pm.”

“What?” Fred frowned. “With you and Ginny? What d’you need four people for?”

“I got an owl from Ernie a little while ago,” Harry explained, pacing nervously. “He said he managed to sweet-talk a contact of his into offering to let him purchase something they swore had belonged to Voldemort.” George snorted in disbelief. “I know, it sounds far-fetched,” Harry admitted. “And even if whatever the thing is actually was Voldemort’s, it might not be any use. But I think if there’s a chance that it’s real, we should at least get our hands on it, so I told Ernie to go ahead and buy the thing; the four of us are going to go get it from Ernie tonight.”

“Smashing,” Fred said. “So again, why do you need four of us? Is it a four-poster bed you need help carrying?”

“I’m not sure what the object is, Ernie’s contact didn’t say,” Harry answered. “I want you there in case anything happens; what if the contact tried to cheat Ernie? What if someone gets wind of this and shows up to try and steal the object? We need some extra wands.”

“Then why not have Pansy go? She’s great at hexes,” George pointed out.

“And creative,” Fred added wistfully. “You should hear some of the ideas she had when we chatted about those muggle things you wanted. Frightening, but brilliant.”

“Pansy needs to stay out of sight for now,” Harry said flatly. “Besides, she’s still kind of jumpy, thinking there’s a Death Eater waiting for her around every corner; I don’t want to put someone that on edge in a potentially nerve-racking situation. You two know plenty of nasty, non-life-threatening hexes – plus a bunch of things that might help loosen the contact’s tongue if they turn out to be aggressive.”

“Plus, any more than four people would be too hard to coordinate,” Ginny added. “The four of us are capable of handling ourselves pretty well.”

Fred and George couldn’t argue with that logic, and the chance to practice some of their unique hexes sounded promising. After they’d left Harry turned to Ginny. “Do you think we should tell them now?” he asked. “I mean, Fred and George have helped us on a lot of things to do with the Horcruxes, and we know they’re trustworthy-”

“No,” Ginny interrupted vehemently. “Harry, you said yourself that the more people who know, the greater the danger. Fred and George would never intentionally tell anyone about the Horcruxes, but what about if they were captured? Or if they just accidentally let it slip out? I know them, they’re not the best at keeping secrets.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah…all right. I’m just getting tired of lying to everyone, or only telling part of the truth. Sooner or later they’re not going to put up with it any more.”

Ginny shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. If it happens, we’ll deal with it.” She regarded Harry carefully. “You don’t really think this whatever-it-is is actually a Horcrux, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Harry said. “Voldemort wouldn’t leave a Horcrux just anywhere; there were reasons for leaving each where he did. But whatever it is, if it actually belonged to him it might be useful, at least to help understand him; maybe it’ll have traces of him, of his magic, that we could study. Or,” he added with a grin, “maybe it’ll be a love letter he wrote to some muggle girl that was never answered, and that’s why he hates muggles so much!”

*****

At 9:40 pm, Harry, Ginny, Fred and George met in the kitchen of the House of Black. From there they Flooed to Fred and George’s shop, where they would then Floo to Ernie’s house; the contact was due to arrive at 10:00 pm. “Now remember, we’re not going to do anything to interfere unless something goes wrong,” Harry said. “Ernie has a few hiding places for us, and we’ll just watch; if the contact just takes the money and gives Ernie the object, we leave him alone. And, if tons of people show up, we stay hidden no matter what, while we use our D.A. Galleons; Hermione and Ron are waiting to send help. Ernie already knows we won’t show ourselves if we couldn’t possibly win.”

Everyone nodded their understanding, and Fred and George Flooed away first. Harry glanced at Ginny’s face as it was illuminated by the green flame. “I’d feel happier with more people.”

“So would I,” Ginny agreed. “But most everyone else is busy, and honestly, do we really think there’ll be any trouble?” Harry shook his head. “We have our D.A. Galleons if things get sticky.”

“I know, but-”

“Harry,” Ginny said with a frown, “We talked this to death, remember? You wanted to plan things better than we had been…well, this is well planned. We have a good few people going, we have backup ready and waiting- we’re prepared. Stop second-guessing yourself. Odds are the contact will come, do the exchange and go, and we’ll be out a few thousand Galleons for Voldemort’s ratty old sock.”

Harry chuckled at that. “All right,” he said, taking a handful of Floo powder. “Let’s go waste some money.”

Harry and Ginny came out of the Floo together. Coughing, Harry helped Ginny up, glancing around in confusion; the room was well-lit, but empty even of furniture. “Hello?” he said. “Fred? George?”

“Harry!” Ginny shrieked. Harry spun around and followed Ginny’s gaze to the corner of the room, where Fred and George had been unceremoniously dumped. “Are- are they-?”

“Just Cursed unconscious,” a voice said from across the room, making Harry and Ginny turn quickly, drawing their wands. “They didn’t need to be killed – they are purebloods, after all. They’ll wake up in a few days.”

“Ernie?” Harry gasped. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

Ernie was standing silhouetted in the arched entryway, his wand in his hand. He stared almost blankly at Harry, not even seeming to notice Ginny was there. “Merlin has nothing to do with it,” he said dully. “Believe me.”

Ernie’s wand hand started to rise, and Harry and Ginny both quickly pointed theirs. “Don’t, Ernie!” Ginny shouted thickly. “Don’t do this!”

Ernie looked like what he was doing was the last thing he wanted. His hand jerked violently as his wand lifted up and pointed under his chin, and Harry suddenly realized: Imperius. “No!” he yelled. “Expelli-”

“Reducto.” Ernie hit himself with the Curse full-on. Harry and Ginny both flinched away as Ernie collapsed backward, already dead before the sound of the wet smack as he hit the floor.

Ginny whimpered softly, standing rigid and staring at Ernie’s corpse; but Harry moved quickly, grabbing her arm. “Ginny we have to go!”

“But- but Ernie-” Ginny stuttered, still not taking her eyes off the body.

“Imperius, Ginny!” Harry said harshly, yanking her around to look at him. “He was under Imperius, we have to get out of here now!”

“No,” said a cool, smooth voice that made Harry’s heart freeze up. “No need to leave just yet, Harry.” And Voldemort stepped neatly over Ernie and into the room.

A light flick of his wand, and Harry’s and Ginny’s hands seized up, forcing them to drop their wands. There was a snicker, and Harry noticed there were two Death Eaters with Voldemort; Amycus, as Dumbledore had called the short, wheezy man standing to Voldemort’s left. And to his right- “Wormtail,” Harry growled.

Peter Pettigrew looked even more downtrodden than when Harry had last seen him, in the graveyard the night Voldemort had returned. His clothes were ragged and threadbare, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days; Harry hoped it was because Voldemort was punishing him for something.

Looking amused, Voldemort turned to Pettigrew; “Wormtail, aren’t you going to say hello to Harry? He greeted you in such a welcoming fashion.”

Pettigrew’s throat worked desperately, and his eyes darted form side to side, just as they had the night Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had forced him to reveal himself again: as though he’d rather be anywhere but here. “My Lord,” he stammered, “i-if I might beg a moment…”

“Enough, Wormtail!” Voldemort snarled, switching from amused to furious almost instantly. “One further word regarding your…opinions, and I will allow Fenrir to take his time before killing you.”

Pettigrew blanched white, and his mouth snapped shut. “Let me deal with him, my Lord,” Amycus wheezed, glaring angrily at Pettigrew. “Let me show him how a true servant behaves…”

“No need, Amycus, no need,” Voldemort said lazily. “Wormtail’s protests will end soon enough.” He peered at Ginny, who stared defiantly back, even though she was trembling. “Such a shame,” he said eventually. “A pureblood who stands against me. Your friend would not willingly grant us the use of his home, and you see what happened to him. Your brothers I spared, - They will come with us, of course. Such creativity will be useful.”

Ginny raised her head proudly. “Over my dead body.”

“Sadly, that will be true,” Voldemort answered as though he truly regretted it. “Unless of course, you come along with us as well. Word has reached me of your skills…young Draco has sworn up and down that some hex of yours was one of the most uncomfortable things he’s ever felt.”

“Turn around and bend over and I’ll show it to you,” Ginny snarled back, literally shaking with anger. “If you think for one second I’ll betray my husband to join you, you’re even more addle-brained than I’d thought.”

“Ah yes, I’d heard of your marriage,” Voldemort said musingly, seeming quite pleased with the idea. “I’d been certain it was all a fabrication, but your friend Ernie assured me it was true. A pity you couldn’t wed a pureblood, but still…if there was ever one deserving to marry into purity, it was Harry Potter.” He smiled at Harry. “So very like your parents you seem now, Harry. Your wife shows the same fire as your mother, right before she died.” He turned slightly and smirked at Pettigrew: “Wouldn’t you say, Wormtail? Are they not just like Lily and James?”

Wormtail raised his head, and his eyes met Harry’s – and something there that he couldn’t name drove all the fear from Harry’s mind, just for an instant. “Yes, my lord,” Wormtail said. “Very like.”

Amycus snickered again, and Harry’s eyes darted down to find his wand before returning to Voldemort. It wasn’t far, only a few feet…but too far to hope he’d be able to activate his D.A. Galleon before-

“Time wastes away, alas,” Voldemort sighed, raising his wand to point directly at Harry. “I have learned my lesson finally, you see. Too often I passed on my chance to kill you, Harry, when I should have…I will not wait any longer.” He glanced at Ginny again. “Your last chance to live, my dear.”

“My Lord,” Pettigrew blurted out quickly.

“Not a word!” Amycus hissed at Pettigrew. “Do not interfere with the Dark Lord’s work, you sniveling, traitorous-”

“I wasn’t speaking to you-” Pettigrew started sharply, but fell silent when Voldemort scowled at him. “My Lord, I beg you-”

“Fenrir will be sated tonight, it seems,” Voldemort murmured, and sneered at Pettigrew’s terrified expression. “Potter will not be spared, Wormtail, no matter your misplaced guilt that comes sixteen years too late. Nor will his woman, pureblood or no, except by her own hand.”

Ginny straightened dignifiedly, and stepped directly in front of Harry. She said nothing; just reached behind her and took Harry’s hand. Voldemort shook his head. “The women you love continue to die for you, Harry. A shame her blood will not protect you as your mother’s did.”

Harry’s blood was pounding in his head; everything was happening too fast, there was no time! He squeezed Ginny’s hand tightly and grasped the back of her robes as Voldemort’s wand pointed, ready to try and shove her out of the way, knowing it was hopeless - no time! Voldemort’s mouth opened to cast the Killing Curse, and this was it, he’d escaped so many times, and no he was going to die and drag Ginny down with him-

“My Lord, no, please!” Pettigrew shouted, stepping forward and grasping Voldemort’s wand arm.

Voldemort screamed. His wand fell to the floor and he clawed with his free hand at Wormtail’s, who yanked his arm back in shock. There was a flash of silver – the silver hand Voldemort had given Pettigrew the night he’d returned. Wormtail had crushed Voldemort’s arm to half its normal girth. Voldemort fell to his knees, still screaming, clutching the limp, shattered remains of his arm.

“TRAITOR!” Amycus shrieked, drawing his own wand, and before Pettigrew could even react, Amycus shouted “Kistacollabi!” Pettigrew was slammed back against the wall and collapsed.

Harry and Ginny dove for their wands, barely managing to avoid another Curse from Amycus. Ginny fired off a Stunning Spell, but Harry didn’t even care if it landed; his eyes were on Voldemort. Just as Harry’s hand closed around his wand, Voldemort, his injured arm pressed to his chest, keening but too like a snake to cry, snatched up his wand with his left hand and Apparated away. “NO!” Harry shouted in fury, and cast a Sectumsempra at the spot where Voldemort had been, even though it was pointless. “Bloody bastard, come back!”

“Harry,” Ginny said softly.

Harry turned to look at her; her cheeks were wet, but she was miraculously unhurt. Thank Merlin. “He got away, Ginny,” Harry said, trying not to break down. “He got away again.”

“I know, Harry, but it doesn’t matter right now, remember?” Ginny said far too calmly. She was right of course; without the Horcruxes they couldn’t have killed Voldemort anyway. Ginny squeezed Harry’s shoulder as he slumped. “I have to check on Fred and George,” she said.

Harry glanced around; Amycus was slumped unconscious, and a bit of blood was smeared on the marble wall behind him – he’d cracked his head a bit when Ginny’s Stunning Spell had hit him, but it didn’t look bad. Pettigrew was laying face-down on the ground; Harry couldn’t see his face. “Okay, go on,” Harry muttered. “Call for help too.” Ginny circled around him and headed to the corner her brothers had been dumped, taking out her D.A. Galleon at the same time.

Harry stood up and slowly walked toward Pettigrew; before he go too close, he said “Expelliarmus,” and caught Pettigrew’s wand when it flew toward him. As an afterthought, he did the same with Amycus’ and Ernie’s wands. He stared down at the still figure of Pettigrew, unsure how to react; Pettigrew had saved him, saved them both. He’d even injured Voldemort, even if it had been unintentional. Unable to prevent his confusion and anger getting the better of him, Harry kicked Pettigrew in the side – and leapt back when a choking gasp slipped out. Bloody hell, he’s alive!

Ginny hadn’t noticed the activity, and was still trying to revive her brothers. Harry shoved Pettigrew with his foot, pushing him onto his back. Pettigrew’s face was turning purple, and he was clearly struggling to breathe. Harry finally remembered where he’d heard the Curse Amycus had cast; Seamus had almost hit Luna with it when he’d been under the Imperius Curse. “Is it your lungs?” Harry snapped out quietly when Pettigrew looked at him.

Pettigrew managed to nod slightly. “S-sorry…” he gurgled.

“Sorry?” Harry repeated angrily. “Is that it? Merlin’s beard, you’re a waste. I can’t believe my father ever thought of you as a friend!” Harry saw that Pettigrew, who seemed to be finding speaking more and more difficult, was gesturing to him. “What?”

“M-m-memory,” Peter forced out. He reached his shaking silver hand to his temple. “T-take it-”

Harry stared at Pettigrew in shock. “We- we have to get you to St. Mungo’s,” he stuttered, feeling inexplicably guilty for not even having considered it. “Maybe-”

Peter shook his head frantically. “M-memory f-f-first-!”

Harry only hesitated a second longer; who knew how much useful information Pettigrew had been witness to? “Ginny!”

“What?” Ginny called.

“I need a vial, or a bottle; something!”

Ginny didn’t ask any questions; she stood quickly from where she’d knelt beside Fred and George, and darted out of the room; she reappeared a few seconds later, carrying a pair of crystal vases. “Here,” she said, shoving one into Harry’s hand.

Harry dropped down beside Pettigrew. There was a flare at the fireplace, and Ginny turned to confront whoever it was, but Harry’s attention was all on Peter, who nodded, his eyes round and scared. Harry reached out his wand and touched its tip to Peter’s forehead. “Memorius Extreccen!” he chanted, and a silver wisp of smoke wafted out of Peter’s head and curled around the wand. Harry transferred the memory carefully to the vase, and shoved a piece of cloth in the end to seal it. When Harry looked back down at Pettigrew, he was grinning sickly. “Hope- it- helps- k-kill him!” he coughed.

Harry didn’t even notice that a score of D.A. members had arrived, and were quickly being directed by Ron, Hermione and Ginny to take control of the situation. “Why?” Harry shouted furiously at Pettigrew. “Why now? I finally accepted I could hate you properly, and now this!”

“Should’ve died for James-” Peter coughed wetly. “S-Sirius was right-! He would have for me…even if he’d known wh-what I was.” Peter’s eyes were growing unfocussed, but there were unmistakably tears in them. “Here,” he continued, indicating his temple again. “One more…”

The room grew silent as Harry again cast the Charm to remove one of Peter’s memories and stored it in the other vase. “F-first is to k-kill him,” Peter choked, obviously growing weaker by the moment. “S-second…is f-for you…Harry.”

Harry swallowed. He didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know what Peter had just given him: but despite all his strong desires, he couldn’t feel his hate any longer. He wanted it- needed to feel it, to be able to get through the night. But it wasn’t in him any more. He felt hands on his shoulders; Ginny on his left, probably Ron on his right. “Hosp- hospital,” he croaked. “Now.”

“No,” Peter gasped; his voice had a spine-tingling rattle to it. His hand reached out and took Harry’s, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “No t-t-time,” he murmured. “Know it. T-target anyway. D-d-dead in a d-day.” He smiled weakly up at Harry, and it seemed to be the first real smile Harry had ever seen on the ratty little man’s face. “W-won’t s-see James and Lily, where I’m g-going,” he whispered. “When you s-see them at last, Harry…t-tell them I said….I’m sorry.”

*****

“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.”
Anne Frank, Diary of a Young Girl

*****

Part Ten of the Harry's Seventh Year series: http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600006327