The Erlking

Here is the next chapter. I would like to warn you all (despite the fact that I’d hate to ruin the ending) there is a major character death in this chapter. But, the epilogue will have a happy ending… well, happy for me.

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Words: 3,544
Chapter 15
Going To War
January 1997. 3 months later.

Since the attacks began on the homes of Dark families, Malfoy Manor had been filled with noise and excitement. Not since before then, had it ever been as quiet as it was now. Where there would have been laughter from the children too young to attend Hogwarts or chatter from the adults as they ate and drank and plotted, there was only silence.

In the last few months many people had wondered through the halls, though none of them ran their fingers over the portraits like Harry did. Children had run around playing Quidditch, joking and shoving each other, while Lucius had looked on with a scowl on his face. Comments of “Draco never behaved in such a plebeian manner” had Harry giggling to himself.

There were no children there now. Nor were there any adults to frown at them, or clustered in groups gossiping about how long their seclusion would last.

There was only Harry.

And the Erlking.

Harry sighed, brushing his fingers over the face of Lucius’ father’s portrait. Abraxas Malfoy snarled at him, and curled up on himself in the corner of his frame to get away. The boy only chuckled coldly. Isolation always had the effect of making his act oddly, coldly. Fire danced at Harry’s fingertips as he lent forward to brush the portrait again. Changing his mind at the last minute, amid screams of Abraxas for him to halt, Harry dropped his arm to his sides.

The Erlking watched on with a fond look upon his cruel face. The man within the monster was happy at present. Men had gone to war, most would, hopefully, not return, and they had left him here alone with his beloved boy. Though Harry did not know it. The Erlking still could not touch his Harry; the Fates were persistent in their wishes for the two not to interact. But, because he could not touch, did not mean he could not just look. And look, the Erlking did.

His eyes never left Harry’s form. Not even when five house elves appeared, sobbing and crying and capturing Harry’s attention.

“Yous must be coming with us, Master Faun!” One cried.

They others sobbed, tugging at his dragon skin cloak. Leather pants covered his lower half from few, though he chose to go shirtless. “Please be following us to the dungeons, Master sir!” Another cried as they tried to tug him forward.

“We has been told to protect all young masters. Yous must be coming to the dungeon with us, Master.”

“We’s be keeping you safe!” They cried, still tugging at Harry’s clothes. With a fond smile, the boy allowed the creatures to drag him deeper into Malfoy Manor. He remained hidden away with the children in the deepest dungeon, with the house elves standing guard.

It had been so quiet, with no one talking or laughing or playing. When the silence was finally broken, Harry was too far underground to hear it.

The Order members had launched one last ditch attempt to break into Malfoy Manor and seize Harry. They had assumed it must be where Harry was being kept prisoner, because it was the only Dark Manor that had not breeched yet. They were determined to find Harry, to rescue and protect him. As misguided as they were, the Erlking could not fault Dumbledore’s noble intentions. He did, honestly, want to protect Harry.

But, as they say, even noble intentions lead to Hell.

The Erlking watched them, finally leaving Harry’s side. He stood at one of the windows in the second floor. He looked down upon the insignificant mortals who were foolish enough to wage a war they could not win. They were attempting to defeat the Dark, but it was futile. There would always be Dark. There must be, for without the Darkness, no one would see the Light. Both were equal halves of the other; they both needed each other to exist. One without the other would cease to be.

It was stupid to fight for something so fruitless.

But the Erlking did not interfere, he merely watched them and if one fell he would gather their soul close to his chest and carry them back to the Eternal Lodge to serve him for eternity.

Fortunately for the Order, there was no one at the Manor to fight them off, so none of them were killed. None of them had to forfeit their souls to the Erlking.

“Come on,” Kinsley Shacklebolt shouted. “We just need to get inside, find Harry and get out.”

“There’s no one here!” Hesita Jones cried. “Where are they all?”

Squabbles broke out. Each person wanted to be the one to tell another where the Death Eaters were. It ranged from “hibernating like the snakes they are,” to “maybe they’re afraid of us?” Each suggestion was as ridiculous as the next, and eventually Kingsley grew irritated.

“Shut up!” He roared, “I don’t care where they are. We came to get Potter. If we are attacked along the way, we will fight back, and if we are not attacked, we will thank Merlin for small mercies. Is that understood?”

The others nodded. The Order members were present, but none of the teachers or Dumbledore himself, for they were at Hogwarts. The Order members had made it to the entrance hallway, bypassing the wards and protection spells, before a Phoenix Patronus swooped towards them. Its wings were spread wide as it soared over their heads, turned and soared back again. It’s mouth opened and Albus’ voice came out. “The Death Eaters are attacking the Ministry! Leave Harry, and aid us.” The Patronus disappeared once it had finished relaying the message.

The Order members looked towards Kinsley, and with a nod from the dark black man they all apparated to the telephone box outside the Ministry building. “Why didn’t we arrive at the atrium?”

“What if the Death Eaters were watching for us? Stupid,” someone hissed at the person who spoke.

Each of them squeezed into the telephone box and whispered, “Order of the Phoenix, here to protect the Ministry,” and eight little badges popped out at them. Taking a deep breath, Kingsley shut the door and closed his eyes as the telephone box began to sink into the ground.

“Ministry of Magic, first floor, general enquires, reception, the fountain of magical integration. Enjoy your stay.” A voice called as they hurriedly left the telephone box.

They had been expecting screaming and shouting, to have to duck from the hexes being sent their way, but they were greeted by silence. It was unnerving, and heavy, pressing against their hearts and making their throats constrict in fear. “Where is everyone?” Hesita Jones breathed.

Before anyone could answer her, she was swept away by a flash of green light. Directly behind her stood a man masked and robes, and his grinning mouth was the only part of him visible. “Avada Kedavra,” he called again and another Order member fell. Three more Death Eaters appeared, and they made short work of the Order. Kinsley was saved until last.

He trembled, his wand held in front of him as the Death Eaters removed their masks. Three of them worked as Aurors, under his supervision, and it made Kinsley sick to think he had helped train these murderers. “Where is everyone, Dawson?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“The Ministry fell easily. You just missed the last few who resist. Dumbledore and the like have left for Hogwarts, but they wont be safe there much longer.” The Death Eaters nudged each other and laughed.

“Avada Kedavra,” Rudolphus Lestrange hissed, and Kingsley dropped silently to the ground. “Let us go.”

XXX

The Ministry truly had fallen quickly. Cornelius Fudge was still in power and he had been very easy to kill. Lucius had merely walked into the office complaining about Arthur Weasley (who was dead now) and Fudge had not suspected that anything was amiss. Lucius took a seat at the desk and nodded when Fudge offered him tea. The blond patriarch sipped from his cup and smirked coldly as Fudge placed his teacup back down on the desk. “Avada Kedavra.”

Fudge fell off of his chair, hitting the ground with a thump; his hand knocked the teacup over spilling the contents all over whatever documents were on the table. Lucius stood and calmly made his way from the room. He approached another, smaller office and pointed his wand inside.

“Imperio!” Under-staff Thicknesse stiffened and stood from the chair. He turned to face Lucius and bowed slightly. “You are Minister for Magic but you will only do what Lord Voldemort approved.” Lucius left that office as well. He walked calmly to the main atrium, leaned into one of the fireplaces and whispered, “Malfoy Manor.” He dropped the handful of floo power and the fireplace sprung to life.

As Lucius pulled his head out, Death Eaters began to stream from the fireplace, followed by Voldemort himself. “Let’s get this over with,” the Dark Lord said while rubbing his temple. This war had gone on for far too long. It had long become a nuisance rather than a necessity.

They had succeeded in killing those who were adamantly opposed to them, and in convincing those others that their way was the right way. It had been going rather well, most of their opposition was absent. The Order was at Malfoy Manor shortly after they left, though they did not know this. And Dumbledore was at Hogwarts.

Until he appeared behind Minister Thicknesse and cast a strangulation hex, killing the man. “Well, that’s bothersome.” Lucius muttered looking down on the corpse.

“Albus,” Voldemort hissed with a smirk. “How nice of you to come visit my Ministry.”

“It is not yours Tom,” the older Wizard protested, raising his wand.

Voldemort chuckled lightly, and raised an eyebrow. “But I do believe it is.” He fired off a spell, and Dumbledore retaliated. The Death Eaters left them to it. They busied themselves making sure that everything was now under their control, and that included finding a new Minister. Twenty minutes passed before Dumbledore cried, “Expecto Patronum,” and a Phoenix burst from his wand. It flew towards the window, capturing the attention of the Dark Side. Dumbledore used the opportunity to run for the nearest fireplace. He flooed to Hogwarts, determined to protect the castle.

Voldemort, unlike the others, did not look at the Phoenix. Instead, he watched, a slow smirk spreading across his face, as Dumbledore flooed away. Here was the best part, the reason Voldemort was smiling. Dumbledore had left the floo open.

“You four, remain here. Kill anyone acting suspiciously.” Rudolphus was among the three Aurors told to stay at the Ministry. They all bowed, and watched Voldemort floo away. The other Death Eaters followed him.

When they arrived at Hogwarts Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. Voldemort frowned but pushed the issue from his mind. He summoned the Werewolves, and soon afterwards felt them apparated to the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Students and Teachers alike screamed in fear as Voldemort pushed the double doors to the great hall open. He strode in, followed by an army of masked Wizards and Werewolves. He snorted; all that was missing was Faun.

He debated, silently, whether it was safe yet. But he knew without Dumbledore there the staff members didn’t stand a chance. “Lucius return and fetch Faun.” The blond man nodded, and with a quick glance towards the Slytherin table, and his son, he swept from the room.

Barely minutes later, Lucius swept back into the hall. He looked furious, and so he had a right to be. People had broken into his Manor and disabled his wards. He would have been even angrier if he had known that Dumbledore had followed him home. Fenrir was pacing back and forth in front of the Gryffindor table, occasionally snapping at the heels of one or two students who shrieked in fright. He was human at present, but everyone knew he was a Werewolf. The Slytherins did look slightly afraid, more than likely by the thought of being surrounded by Werewolves, but they weren’t about to shit their pants like the rest of the people in the Great Hall.

Faun entered the room, and everyone’s attention was on him. Voldemort licked his lips appreciatively as his eyes travel over Harry’s half naked body. Once again, he was dressed in his dragon skin cloak; the hood was down, exposing the dangerously curved horns to everyone’s view. He was bare-footed and bare-chested, but he wore a pair of doeskin trousers that were cut off above his knees.

Sirius and Remus waved lightly as Harry’s gazed travelled over them. Faun smirked, nodding at Fenrir and Draco in turn, before sauntering forward. He took his place to Voldemort’s left; an arm encircled the Dark Lord’s waist before he drew the Wizard down for a kiss. The entire Hall grew silent. Faun’s rust coloured hair turned black, and began to shorten so it was above his shoulders rather than hang below. The horns disappeared and a lightening bolt-shaped scar was easily visible on his forehead. Harry stepped back from Voldemort and looked over the Hall.

Someone caught sight of his scar and gasped, “Harry Potter!”

“Save us Harry Potter!” Someone else screamed, obviously not having grasped that Harry was the same person who had been kissing Voldemort seconds beforehand. Faun just chuckled.

“What shall we do with them?” He asked, his hips swaying slightly as the prospect of a hunt got him excited.

“What ever you like my love, though I would prefer the desirable ones to join us.”

“Never!” Came the unanimous cry from the Gryffindor table. Fenrir began to snarl and snap at them again, and they dissolved into fearful shrieks and tears once more. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw remained silent.

“None of them will join you, Tom.” Voldemort looked up and snarled. Standing in the doorway was Albus Dumbledore. He held something in his hands, which were tightly clasped together, and when Voldemort concentrated he could sense a shrinking charm. His eyes narrowed as they met Dumbledore’s eyes. “Do you not wonder where I’ve been?”

Tom merely nodded.

“Lucius I really must thank you, for if you had not returned to Malfoy Manor, I may not have found it in time.” The blond scowled. Dumbledore released whatever it was in his hands, and cast the counter spell. The snake grew until she was her normal size and she hissed menacingly at Dumbledore. The old man did not react.

“Nagini,” Voldemort whispered. He knew what Dumbledore intended to do, but he couldn’t make himself move. It was like he was frozen in place, turned to stone by fear and desperation. He could not lose his last Horcrux.

Gryffindor’s sword was held above Dumbledore’s head for a brief instant before it was brought down on Nagini with a sickening noise. It sliced the cobra’s head off, and it bounced across the hall to land at Voldemort’s feet.

As his Horcrux was destroyed, Voldemort felt as if someone had thrust their hand through his chest and was attempting to rip his heart out. He cried out, unaware that he was the one screaming. He fell to the ground, his hand pressed over his heart as his breathing came in sharp pants. His most trusted gathered towards him, worrying for him. Faun waved them off, and they returned to their standing positions. Harry looked down at the Dark Lord sadly, before turning to Dumbledore.

“You know what needs to be done, my boy.”

“I do.” Voldemort looked up at Harry with a frown. He tried to stand, a hand reaching out for his lover but Harry pulled back. “It has to be done.” His eyes remained fixed on Voldemort, and the Dark Lord looked utterly betrayed for one moment before he realized that Harry did not intend to attack him.

“Avada Kedavra!” Dumbledore called, believing that Harry would simply stand aside and let it happen. Instead, Harry jumped in the way. With a flash of green light the beloved boy fell to the floor, and remained there, silent, unmoving and unimportant. Death had stripped him of his power. Voldemort screamed again. His heart constricted and he recognized the pain as that of losing a Horcrux, but he couldn’t believe it. Harry was dead now, it didn’t matter if he had been a Horcrux or not.

The Dark Lord cradled the small body to his chest; he had to crawl forward as he was unable to stand and walk. He rocked forwards and back softly, and he attempted to ignore the joyous speech Dumbledore was giving him. All he knew was that Harry was gone. “I love you,” he whispered for the first time, although it was too late. Harry couldn’t hear him.

But there was someone else who could. And while the Erlking wanted to keep Harry for eternity in death, he did feel sympathy for the human who Harry would leave behind. It was not unexpected, for who could help but love the beloved boy? It was sad though, and the Erlking laid a hand comfortingly on the Dark Lord’s shoulder. Voldemort looked up and the hooded man, and sniffled softly. “Emotions are not a weakness,” Audenarde whispered as Voldemort went to brush away his tears.

Sirius and Remus both seemed to be in shock. When the Erlking appeared, their shock seemed to wear off. Remus growled and snarled as he forced himself to change from man to wolf. Beside him, Sirius reverted to his animagus form of a Grim. Together they charged at Dumbledore. Growling and snarling the two animals tore him apart and they felt no remorse for their actions.

With the death of Albus Dumbledore, the Light sides last defence, most everybody agreed to join the new leader Voldemort. As the Death Eaters cheered and clapped, Voldemort rocked back and forth, cradling Harry in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered again.

The Erlking leant down, and carefully pulled Harry from the Dark Lord’s arms, “and I love you also,” he whispered into the raven hair.

“Don’t take him,” Voldemort begged, finally getting to his feet.

Audenarde smirked like he knew something that no one else did, which he did. “But I must. The Fates demand it.” And in a swirl of rising mist, the two disappeared back to the Lodge, leaving Voldemort and Harry’s family to mourn.

XXX

Harry looked around with a frown. He did not recognize this place. He noticed a train go past and he frowned at the loud noise. A sign reading ‘platform 9’ caught his attention, and his eyes strayed to the wall that separated platform 9 from platform 10. Hesitantly he walked towards the wall. Half shocked and half wary, he walked through the wall and looked around on the other side.

A large, red, magnificent steam engine sat on the tracks, empty but still spewing smoke. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he read the plaque. ‘Hogwarts Express’ was declared proudly on the side of the train.

“It is a pity you never came to Hogwarts. Some say the train ride is the best thing aside from learning magic.” Harry turned around sharply and met the twinkling gaze of Albus Dumbledore.

“So they killed you then.”

“You knew they would.” He smiled softly and Harry merely nodded.

“Where are we?” Harry looked around slowly, his eyes taking in every little detail.

“Platform 9 and ¾, though, to be exact I’d say this was some sort of limbo.”

They moved to sit down on a bench. “So I’m not dead then?”

“You know you aren’t. You had two souls within you. I had assumed the Erlking removed the fragment of Voldemort’s soul, but I was mistaken.” He paused and smiled softly at the boy. “I truly only wanted what was best for you.” He reached a hand out to run through Harry’s hair, but the moment his finger tips touched the raven strands he dropped his hand back down to his side. “The Fates are in a ruckus. They aren’t sure what to do with you. When you died, you brought two souls with you instead of the required one.”

“I just assumed my soul would go back to the Erlking.” Harry shrugged. “Sure I’m going to miss Marvolo, and I love him, but I belong with the Erlking, and the Hunt. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“So you may end up there, and so you may not.” Dumbledore offered evasively. “However I do believe they are leaving the ultimate decision up to the Erlking. May his choice bring you happiness, Harry James Potter.”

Harry frowned, “what do you mean? There isn’t really that much choice, what could he choose? I’m hardly going to be alive again am I?”

“Like all good things,” Dumbledore said as he stood up, “they come to those who wait.” He walked back through the wall separating platforms 9 and 10, and was gone. Harry yawned, he was suddenly very sleepy and his eyes were heavy. He remembered closing them, and laying down on the bench, but he couldn’t remember ever waking up again. Nor was he sure he wanted to.

XXX

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Well, that sucks doesn’t it? You’ll have to wait for the epilogue now, won’t you. I’ll post it when I feel you have all been left in suspense for a sufficiently long enough time. He, he, please review, despite the fact that I am cruel.

The Lambs will be posted when I post chapter 16 of The Erlking, ok. It won by like 50 more votes, so it’s only fair that I do The Lambs next. I’ll do Soul Seeker when Indelible is finished.