Dark Days

Dark Days Chapter Twenty-one – The enemy’s hand

A loud explosion ripped the air a great flash of fire leaped up high. Clouds of black smoke billowed up from behind stones, through the leaves on trees and pouring from every crack and crevice nearby to try to obscure the sun. Thick black smoke that confused the mind and clogged the senses. Darting figures seemed to appear before you where there where none were. Both sides fell back unsure of this new darkness and an eerie lull fell across the battleground.

High up on a hill, far from danger Lucius Malfoy stood watching this darkness with something akin to glee. This latest development of his devising would put him deeper in Voldemort’s favour, a desirable position no matter how dangerous. Well okay, strictly speaking the idea had been Draco’s but his son was not yet that good that he could outwit his father and so Lucius had adopted the idea and presented it to Voldemort as his own. Bellatrix and Rudolphus LeStrange approached from behind on wickedly silent feet. They too wore smirks as the watched the developments below. They had been present when the idea had been presented to their master and so shared none of their army’s confusion.

“I see that everything is going according to plan Lucius,” purred Bellatrix. Her voice was husky and low for a woman’s and Lucius could never quite decide whether or not it was sexy. But with her husband hovering protectively by her, he supposed it didn’t really make any difference. Besides Narcissa would kill him if she could guess his thoughts, which she seemed to have an uncanny ability to do.

He laughed; it was a sound without mirivarivalled only by Voldemort’s evil cackle. “Naturally, this is what happens when you leave the plan making in competent hands.”

“Meaning yours I suppose,” laughed Bellatrix.

Yes it was quite a sexy voice really, shame about the rest of her!

“I’d be careful if I were you Lucius,” said Rudolphus in his dangerously quiet voice. “People round here who start getting to full of themselves often find they’re not around too long to enjoy their successes.”

“Why my old friend, I must be mistaken but you sounded quite pleased at the thought of me not being around too long.” He knew full well that Rudolphus would like nothing more than to stick him full of sharp objects and leave him out for the crows to find.

Rudolphus smirked and didn’t answer.

“Where are they anyway?” asked Bellatrix then.

“They’ll be here,” smirked Lucius, “We’ll just let those rats down there stew for a while!”

* * * * * *
Ron had gathered as many men as he could find close to fang rock; a dangerous looking peak which jutted out from the main cliff. They stood there back to back and ready to flee if the order should be given. Severus and Harry where there too and Ron was glad that at least he wasn’t alone in command any more. It was a position that he had never quite gotten used to. The darkness about them was total now. He waved his hand in front of his face but couldn’t see it at all, only feel the motion. He touched his face as if to reassure himself that the hand WAS still there.

“Don’t be stupid!” he murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” growled Severus.

“Not you.” He muttered, resisting the urge to add ‘Idiot’. “Just forget it.”

“Be quiet,” snapped Harry then. “It may have escaped your notice but we can’t see a bloody thing. So if you children wout mit mind shutting the fuck up? Let’s not make it any easier for them to sneak up on us than we have to!”

The look on Severus’ face betrayed his shock at this statement from Harry. Even though he had not been a student for many years he had never dared speak to his former professor so before. He almost laughed but too many years of self-restraint prevented him.

Around them nervous men and women shuffled trying desperately to see anything through the blackness. What harm had the explosion caused? Where had it come from? What the hels gos going on and when would they be able to get out of this hell hole?

A cold child settled over the valley; a chill that not only affected the air but settled into men’s spirits and souls. Cold dread that prevented coherent thought and turned grown men into fearful children.

“Oh God,” cried Ron softly, “Tell me I’m wrong!”

“Frequently,” spat Severus. “But unfortunately not this time I’m assuming.”
rry rry shook his head. Cries of fear and despair from around him faded out replaced by a woman’s voice. He had heard it before, always the same words. “No,” he cried, “Not again!”

“Lumos!” shouted Severus. The pale glow from his wand did little to penetrate the pitch blackness. But following his lead others around him also created the little were-lights that hovered on the ends of wands.

The scene before them was one of horror. No nightmare could have been worse at that moment if Voldemort himself should appear before them. Thousands of black cloaked creatures advanced hovering inched about the floor. Faces hidden behind deep black hoods, and the darkness around them all was nothing compared to the darkness within those hoods.

“Oh God!” moaned Ron. “There’s millions of them!”

Taking charge Severus shouted orders to the terrified group surrounding them. “All those able to cast a Patronus charm advance! Those who cannot hold off the death eaters; we have to get our wounded out of here!”

“Oh God! What the hell are we going to do?”

“You Mrsleysley are going to pull yourself together, find Hermione and tell her to get the wounded out and then go herself with Poppy. And then if you can’t pull yourself together enough to come back get out yourself. You’re only a danger to us all in your present condition.”

“I’d be an idiot if I wasn’t afraid you pompous arrogant…”

“Ron this is hardly the time. Go, get Hermione away!” shouted Harry before running forwards to face the ever approaching Dementors.

With one final glare at Severus, who rolled his eyes in disgust, Ron apparated away. Severus was left standing alone surrounded by people running. White faces, drained of colour almost shone in the darkness. In automatic now he ran forward in the press to join those fending off the dementors while those unable to cast a Patronous fell back to ward off the Death Eaters that would no doubt be trying to pick of any who attempted to ward off their most prized allies.

* * * * * *
The medical area was in chaos. Injured men and women, motivated by fear had risen up, many attempting to walk on damaged legs only making them worse. Hermione’s cries for reason met deaf ears even when they were heard over the din. Twigs and stones were hastily made into portkeys to remove the badly injured from the site and Poppy and the other medi-witches faced an ongoing battle to prevent those with some movement from rejoining the battle.

A young ginger-haired wizard named Andy ran, or stumbled, into Hermione trying to get back to the battle-ground. She grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving.

“Where are you going?”

“Back, I have to go back,” he cried fervently.

“No, you have to get back to Hogwarts. They’re only attempting to fight so that we can get you away in safety. Going back there won’t do you or them any good.”

“Goddammit!” he yelled. “I have to help!”

“You can’t, don’t make them fight in vain!”

He cast her one last despairing look and hobbled over to a communal portkey in disgust. Few if any of the patients here were strong enough to apparate and making portkeys took time.

“Come on, come on…” muttered Hermione. “This is taking too long.”

“Hermione!”

She spun on her heel to face a lanky red-head racing towards her. “Ron!” she cried. “Are you hurt? Why are you here?”

“Severus sent me. He told me to make sure you were safe.”

A brief flash of anger crossed her face before being replaced by a more innocuous emotion. “He worries about me to much. It’s stifling.”

“Yeah well I’m still amazed that the old git can feel any sort of emotion.”

“Ron…” she began.

“I know I know…broken record.”

“How are things going? Is it really Dementors?”

“Yeah but how did you know?”

“Good news travels fast,” she said with a wry twist to her mouth.

“Yeah well there are hundreds of them. And about twenty people who can actually face them. It’s not looking good. We should be able to hold long enough to allow this lot to get clear but who knows.”

“We’ll be as fast as we can. But don’t wait to hear news. Tell Harry and Severus to go as soon as they look like breaking through. If there’s anyone still left here then…”

“Then what?”

“Then they’ll just have to be left unless they apparate out themselves,” she finished.

“Hermione!” Ron sounded shocked.

“I know, it’s horrible, but this is war. I don’t like it any more than you do. Now go tell Harry and Severus!”

“What am I? A messenger boy?”

“Ron…”

“I’m going, I’m kidding,” he said. He cast her a serious look and gave her a quick hug, “Take care, and get out as soon as you can!”

“I will,” she said hugging him back. And then he was gone.

* * * * * *
It was cold. Unbelievably, bone-chillingly cold. Dementors blocked off the entire passage out of the valley at its widest point. And beyond that Death Eaters crawled like black ants as far as the eye could see.

A row of maybe twenty people cast the Patronus charm to hold back the foul creatures. Beads of sweat ran down their faces with the strain, but the assorted animal charms steadfastly held the evil beings at bay. For now. Harry’s proud Stag could be seen in the centre and provided a banner and a source of morale for the others. The Dementors screamed in defiance and beyond them Death Eaters cast charm after charm to disable the charm casters.

The wards were failing; ever so slowly the Dementors were pushing the silvery animals back. To Harry’s left an eagle flickered and disappeared, the man who cast it dropping to the ground in exhaustion and crying out as several curses hit him at once. He didn’t move again.

Severus found his way to Harry’s side. “We can’t hold. We have to get away.”

“What about Hermione and the wounded?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Ron found me. Hermione says to go before we break completely. Most of them are gone now anyway.” I hope he added silently.

“Fine, give the order,” he spat after a moments hesitation.

Magically amplifying his voice Severus shouted. “Fall back!”

Startled Order members busy warding off Death Eater curses stood unmoving for a moment before disappearing one by one. People casting the Patronus curse edged back slowly, trying to work out how they were going to hold the Dementors off long enough for them to get away. Behind them Severus was busy making a portkey.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” muttered Harry quietly.

“Trust me.”

Harry chose not to answer that but instead turned to the people on his right and said; “Stop casting! Go now!”

Startled but instantly obedient they complied. The Dementors surged forwards, almost surrounding the few remaining orders.

Harry felt the strain of holding the charm up this long. “Hurry up you bloody over-grown bat,” he cursed. “Are you nearly finished?”

“I am; can you hold them.”

He nodded his assent, turned to the people on his left and repeated, “Stop casting! Go now!”

“But…” stuttered a young, exhausted looking witch.

“Just do it!” shouted Harry screwing up his eyes with the effort.

The remaining fighters left the site, Harry’s lone stag now holding off all the Dementors. His arm shook with the strain of holding them off. He felt Severus’ hand grab the back of his robes and a sudden lurching feeling round his navel. The Dementors faded from view, replaced by the swirling, confusing colours of the mixture of places that came with travelling by portkey. The swirling ended and the two men collapsed to the ground a short way from the group of desolate looking people.

They felt a pair of slim arms embrace them both. “You’re okay…” a voice murmured.

A pair of tear filled golden-brown eyes looked them up and down, checking for injuries.

“We’re okay,” said Harry shortly, gave her a brief hug and walked away, his eyes exhausted and filled with emotion.

Hermione turned her attention to Severus who wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“I was so worried. People kept appearfromfrom the front and you weren’t there!”

“I know. I’m sorry. It was the only way!” he murmured into her hair, planting soft kisses on her neck and in her hair between words. They sat silently for a while in the safety of each others arms.

Back at the battle ground the Dementors surged forwards to find nothing but dead bodies. Fearful Death Eaters back away, not entirely sure whether or not the Dementors would turn on them in their frustration. And on a hill top a little way away Lucius Malfoy stood laughing. So the boy wonder may not have been captured, he had seen him get away, and the Dementors may not have had chance to feed, but all in all it had turned out rather well. Still laughing he turned to report to his master and get a large scotch in celebration.

Up on the battlefield a low moan announced the presence of a live human. Hungrily a Dementor swooped down on the unfortunate man who screamed feebly as the hood fell back to reveal the horror beneath.

* * * * * *
Severus stood at the great window in the study of his mansion. It would not be long he supposed before he was forced to give it up. At this rate Voldemort would have taken over this entire area and it’d be too risky to come back here. But for some reason he felt reluctant to just give up this place to the Death Eaters. He’d never really felt any particular attachment to the place. As a child it had been a place of dread more than anything. As an adult it had been a place to be alone. But now, with a beautiful young woman upstairs swimming in the bath no doubt, and a book of hers on the arm of a chair, page after page of copious notes in a neat file on the desk and a solitary smiling photograph of her on the mantelpiece it felt like home. Home, something he had never had before despite living here all his life.

He picked up the photograph and the woman within smiled coyly up at him for a moment before returning to the book she was reading, sprawled on her stomach on the lawn by the lake at Hogwarts. He put it down almost regretfully and ambled slowly towards his room. His body ached and tiredness descended upon him that made it almost painful just to walk.

Laboriously he pushed open his bedroom door, deciding that perhaps Hermione had had the right idea and a bath would do him good. He didn’t make it that far. Hermione it seemed was not content with her own bed tonight. After a, no doubt long and far too hot, bath she had crawled into his bed. Her still damp hair curled appnglyngly about her face and spread out across his pillow. Deciding to forgo the bath he simply undressed and climbed in beside her. He lay behind her, fitting his body to hers, his arm protectively across her waist. Unconsciously she snuggled into him, a soft moan escaping her lips. Gently he kissed her cheek and promptly fell asleep.

* * * * * *
The white void swirled in a milky haze about herstanstances could not be defined her and things had no form. Even as Hermione looked down at herself she saw nothing, no colour, no shape, she only knew that it was her. All bemused she looked about her. There was nothing there at all.

A voice sounded behind her, or it seemed to be behind her. It was impossible to be sure.

“Hermione, you need the ring I spoke to you of.”

“Maoli?” She asked but without speaking.

“Yes, I have come to show you what you need to know.”

The white mist in front of her twisted and swirled faster than before, lines of colour mixing in a hypnotic kaleidoscope of colour. The colour gained form, a castle on the edge of land overlooking the tumultuous sea.

“Where is it?” Hermione asked.

“Tintagel castle. The ancient home of King Arthur.”

“I thought he was just a myth.”

“No, he was real, but he is not who you need to see.”

As before in these half dreams Hermione felt herself moving forwards without effort or aid. She floated though corridors of stone past and through unseeing courtiers to what looked to be a counsel room. King Arthur was sat at the head of a long table with knights on either side.

“Who are they?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad, Sir Perceval, Sir Ector, Sir Bors, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, Sir Bedivere, Sir Lucan and Lord Mordred, Arthur’s son of course. Knight’s of the round table of Camelot.”

“Table doesn’t look very round to me.”

“That part is myth. These are not all of the knights and a round table would have to be bigger than any room in this castle to accommodate them all. But hush. The knights are not who we have come to see.”

“Then whom…” Hermione began. The scene before her was silent but a movement had caught her eye. A tall thin man with a long white beard had stepped forwards from a dark corner of the room. His robe was not dissimilar to the one favoured by Severus when teaching although infinitely brighter than his dull black.

“Wizard’s were known openly here?”

“No, but Merlin was Arthur’s uncle, a little known fact,” chuckled Maoli. “He guided Arthur throughout his reign, and before. Arthur was the only one who knew him for what he was, the knights believed him to be a soothsayer, a rather common disguise for wizards in those days. One that inspired respect rather than fear.”

Merlin raised his hand to quiet the assembly and the light from the window caught on a band of silver about his finger.

“The ring!” cried Hermione.

“Yes the ring that you need. It was once Merlin’s and is imbued with great power. It was forged by him in a sacred place against the coming of great evil. He did not foresee when or what this evil may be but it has lasted the years and still retains its power. The problem we face is that the power can be used for evil as well as good. At the moment they do not know what it is that they possess, nor does my counterpart, but we must get it off them before that happens.”

“But where is it?”

“I will show you.”

The scene before her changed. Instead of a castle she was now in a stately home elegantly decorated in silver and green. Slytherin colours. Three platinum blonde people sat before an open fire. The tall woman was reading quietly her hair loosely bound with a green ribbon at the nape of her neck and her dark green dress enhanced her slim figure. The other two were hot in a debate of some sort, one face she knew only too well. Draco Malfoy, his pale face unlly lly flushed as hguedgued with his father and his usually perfect hair was becoming rugged. Lucius on the other hand had lost none of his normal sinister poise, and Narcissa continued to read, serenely unaware of the noise about her. Lucius brought up his hand to point threateningly at his son and Hermione spied the precious ring on his finger.

“So it was him that impersonated Severus when my parents…” Hermione trailed off.

“It was. But do not think about it, you must not get flustered while you are there. And do not go getting delusions of grandeur. You are too important to lose. You must just get the ring and leave. There is no time for vengeance here.”

Hermione didn’t trust herself to reply. Her eyes were fierce and she wanted to inflict pain on Lucius as she had never wanted to do before.

“You must obtain this ring. Tomorrow.”

“What do we need it for anyway?” asked Hermione.

“That you will find out in time.”

“Well that’s not good enough,” spat Hermione, but the images about her were already fading.

In her sleep she murmured uneasily and wriggled about as the dream left her. Her eyes snapped open and she was back in Severus’ room. She felt angry and upset, and extremely tired. She could never sleep properly when she had these dreams. Severus’ arms were about her and she shifted so that she faced him and snuggled into the protective curve of his arm. In his sleep he drew her closer to him and she took comfort in his presence. She lay one arm across his chest and snuggled her cheek up on to his shoulder as he shifted to lie on his back. Shivering she pulled up the covers about them and closed her eyes to sleep once more.

* * * * * *
Cold morning sunlight woke her as Severus drew back the thick curtains. She yawned and stretched, unwilling to wake.

“Morning,” said Severus in a soft voice.

“Um…”she mumbled attempting some semblance of speech.

He smiled and sat down beside her. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“No. I had another visit from Maoli. She seems determined to ruin my sleep whenever I really feel the need for it!”

“What did she say?” asked Severus his voice suddenly concerned. “Did she tell you anything about this ring?”

“Everything and nothing,” said Hermione sitting up and pushing hair out of her face.

“Everything and nothing; what does that mean?”

“She told me that the ring was once Merlin’s. It’s exceedingly powerful and essential to our fight but it can be used for their side just as easily as for ours so we need to get it back before they work out what it does.”

“And what does it do?”

“That’s the bit she didn’t tell me. But I do know that Lucius Malfoy has it.”

He grimaced, “I suddenly have a powerful urge to go back to sleep. And preferably stay that way for about a week!”

“I know the feeling,” she whispered.

He looked deeply at her. She shivered although the room was not cold and he shifted forwards to wrap her in his arms. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine,” he murmured into her hair.”

She snuggled into his shoulder wrapping her arms about him and holding him tightly, “I wish I could be so sure.”

They sat in silence after that listening to the bird song outside and the trees rustling in a chill wintery breeze. “What are we going to do about this ring then?” asked Severus at length.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “Go to Malfoy Manor I suppose. We have to get this blessed thing back today.”

“Today? I don’t think we’ll be able to persuade everyone that there is need for such haste.”

She looked at him, her eyes determined, “Then we go alone. Numbers wouldn’t help us anyway; we have to rely on stealth. If we tell anyone what we’re doing they argue with us and delay us. We go now.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Look at what happened last time I did something without telling anyone what I was doing. That’s not an experience I’m in a hurry to repeat and I’m damn sure you aren’t either!”

“We’ll owlbledbledore once we’ve left. By the time it gets there they’ll be too late to do anything, we’ll order them not to send anyone after us and hope that for once they pay attention.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said.

“Then we’ll go.” His eyes suddenly took on a mocking look. “I hope however that you plan to eat breakfast first as this old man is very hungry.”

She grinned at him. “Perhaps you’re right; you are looking a bit infirm.”

He gave her a mock shocked look, “Infirm? Me? I’ll give you infirm!” And he proceeded to tickle her, holding both her hands in one of his own to prevent her retaliating.

“No fair! You cheat!” she cried trying vainly to squirm away from his tickling fingers. “Help! No! Stop it!” she laughed.

He stopped and looked down at her seriously, and without saying a word kissed her softly on the lips.

* * * * * *
The old manor house had looked regal and sedate in the distance, but up close it just looked intimidating; especially approaching it in broad daylight knowing full well that it contained at least three Death Eaters and probably more. Burglary always seemed more fitting at night somehow, and even with invisibility cloaks on Hermione did not feel entirely comfortable.

“Whose bloody stupid idea was this anyway?” she murmured softly to Severus who was crouched in the bush next to her although she could not see him.

“Yours I believe my dear. Yours.” He sounded insufferably smug and she decided that he would definitely have to pay for that one later. First they had to get in to that house, find a ring and get out of there in one piece. It was not an idea she relished.

At last convinced there was no one about they stepped out of the bush and ran quickly and quietly down to the manor and edged their way along to an open window. A brief glance inside told them that no-one was about. Taking great care not to let her cloak slip Hermione clambered inside. On silent feet she padded across to the door and listened behind it to make sure no-one was about. A fluttering of the curtains told her that Severus had climbed in behind her.

“Sssh…” she whispered as he stumbled, nearly knocking over the small table by the window.

She felt him loom up behind her. “What now?”

“Now we find that ring!”

Once more she listened behind the door to make sure that no-one was there, and then slowly and cautiously she eased it open. The door led into a surprisingly bright and airy hall with great oak doors to the left that they had seen from outside.

“Go left, Lucius’ study is the third door,” Severus whispered.

“How do you…” Hermione began. “Never mind.”

A black cat sauntered down the hall behind them, casting curious glances towards the pair. But it clearly decided that they weren’t worth his time and leapt up on to a table to wash.

They halted outside the door to the study, once more listening to see if the room contained anyone. As Severus listened Hermione took a step back intending to rest against the far wall. Her eyes grew wide under her cloak as felt her back lightly brush something soft.

“Who’s there?” called a suspicious voice and Hermione felt the figure drawing a wand. She tried to dodge forwards out of the way but a hand grabbed her and the cloak fell away.

“Granger…” growled a familiar voice.

Hermione spun around twisting out of his grasp and punched him full in the face. “Hello Draco.” Draco staggered backwards, not expecting such a punch. “Go, find Lucius. Stay hidden.”

Severus reluctantly ran off in search of Lucius and the precious ring leaving Hermione to deal with Draco.

“Go? There’s more of you?” he asked.

Hermione only smiled, drawing her wand.

‘It doesn’t matter, whoever it is will have my mother and my father to face. And I believe Bellatrix and Rudolphus may be lurkiboutbout as well. Whoever it or they are will have plenty to face. Which leaves me to deal with the mudblood.”

“Draco you talk too much!” sneered Hermione in an admirable impression Severus. “Unless of course you plan to talk me to death?”

He snarled, an animal like noise that seemed alien in the sophisticated features of the blonde man before her. He raised his wand and hurled a curse at her. Casting her cloak aside Hermione danced out of the way and a priceless vase behind her was shattered by the curse. Raising her own wand she cast her own curse at her opponent. Together they dance the length of the hallway, neither giving an inch. Both matched in knowledge and strength.

Halfway up the majestic green carpeted staircase Severus halted listening to the battle below. He knew that Hermione was more than a match for his sometimes over confident ex-pupil but it went against the grain to run and leave a woman to fight for him. He turned his head suddenly hearing a noise above and caught a glimpse of long platinum blonde hair. Taking the stairs two at a time he sprinted up the stairs, casting a ward of silence over the two below so that they would not be disturbed and so tip the balance of power.

Lucius strolled arrogantly along the wide spacious corridor, unaware that the enemy had penetrated his home. Resisting the urge to attack him right then Severus forced himself to follow his old nemesis, reminding himself as he went that it was the ring not Lucius that was important. Lucius turned into a comfortable sitting room where his wife sat deep in conversation with Bellatrix. He sat down on a deep leather armchair and picked up a glass of what looked like rather fine brandy. Rudolphus sat opposite him and the two began to talk. Unimportant chatter for the most part which held no interest for Severus. Slipping quietly away he slinked down the corridor towards what he knew to be Lucius’ bedchamber.

He eased the door open casting silent thanks to anyone around that it did not squeak and closed it easily behind him. The great four poster bed dominated the large room with green and gold drapes and deep, soft pillows of cream sat at the head. On the bedside table there was a picture of Narcissa in rather scanty clothing and she looked at him disapprovingly but made no attempt to hide her near nakedness. She was after all a very attractive woman.

“Hermione’ll skin you alive if she hears you thinking that…” he thought.

He turned to examine the rest of the room. A large old fashioned box sat on the desk and he went to look more closely. Inside were amulets, rings, chains a vast array of jewels and trinkets. Quietly he rummaged through them all but none was the precious ring he sought.

A sudden noise brought him up short and he hurried to the door to listen. Bellatrix and Rudolphus were leaving, but Hermione and Draco were still in the hall. He hesitated, unsure what to do for the best. But then a shrill shout made his decision for him.

“Draco!” It was Narcissa. Severus quieted his mind and reached out with his thoughts searching for Narcissa with his mind. It did not take long and soon he could see as she saw. A useful skill Legimency. Draco lay sprawled on the floor, cut and bleeding, unconscious but alive. Hermione was no-where to be seen.

“Good girl,” he thought and pulled back his mind from Narcissa. It was dangerous to stay connected for too long as the person could become aware of your presence, especially someone as well versed in the dark arts as Narcissa Malfoy.

He slipped out of the room and made for the staircase to peer down at the scene below. Bellatrix and Rudolphus had gone; a summons from Voldemort meant that they could not stay even for this if they wished to keep their skins attached to their bodies.

“Who is in my home?” growled Lucius, glancing about with an expression that had intimidated many. But it was one too frequently used by Severus to have any effect. While Narcissa lifted Draco off the floor and levitated him out of harms way, (apparently she did have SOME feelings) Lucius began stalking the hall with cat like grace searching for the intruder.

A brief beam of light from the window glanced on the ring about his finger, “Idiot,” cursed Severus for not noticing. Briefly he searched for Hone one with his mind before descending to take on Lucius. He could sense her in the corner, cowering under her invisibility cloak. She was tired and trying to hide her panting but she was okay. “Stay there, I’ll deal with this.” He cast the thought at her. He did not really expect her to hear but was surprised when she looked up almost straight at him. She nodded once looking puzzled but stayed where she was.

Silently Severus descended the stairs and at the bottom cast off his cloak. Lucius heard the silvery material slither to the ground and whipped around.

“Severus,” he snarled. “How dare you come here?”

“What? No welcome old friend?” asked Severus mockingly, contempt dripping from every syllable.

“Of course, I’m happy to see you here,” he spat. “Because it will give me the great pleasure of being able to kill you.”

They were circling now, cat like on silent feet. Neither wanting to give up any slight advantage, waiting for someone to cast the first curse.

It was Lucius who eventually made that move. “Crucio!” he cried.

Severus crouched low and rolled forwards away from the curse, “Crucio!” The curse missed Lucius by inches as he dodged away. Leaping back to his feet Severus cast another curse without waiting for Lucius to retaliate and was rewarded by a long red cut that opened up along his face.

Cursing and spitting blood Lucius cast another curse at his enemy. It was their turn to dance now and Hermione watched in amazement at the speed of their encounter. Part of her wished to help but she obeyed Severus and kept out of it. She was not even sure if she would not do more harm than good anyway if she went blundering in there now. She seemed just as likely to hit Severus as Lucius.

Curse after curse flew from their wands filling the air with a kind of static and an energy that hung about them in a miasma. The air reverberated and was filled with a buzzing that was almost too high to hear.

“Expelliarmus!” yelled Lucius then and Severus’ wand flew from his hand to settle on the bottom step. Resorting to old fashioned brawling techniques Severus drew back a fist and punched Severus in the mouth.

Lucius collapsed back and Severus kicked his wand from his hand. Together they rolled on the floor, punching any available part that presented itself. Finally they fell apart and dashed for their wands. A brief lull descended on the pair as they circled once more. Lucius’ face was grim but a mocking smile lit Severus’ face.

“You should not have come here!” spat Lucius wiping semi-congealed blood from his mouth.

“You have something I want.”

“And what might that be?”

“What, do you mean aside from your head as a trophy?” he asked mockingly.

Lucius snarled, “Crucio!” This time it hit and Severus fell to his knees gasping.

“What no more snide remarks?” mocked Lucius.

Gritting his teeth Severus drew back his wand. “DIFFINDO!” he cried. With a ripping sound Lucius’ right hand slowly tore itself from his body. He shrieked; a sound which pierced the air and echoed around the hall. The wand fell limply from the fist’s grasp as the hand hit the floor. Staggering backwards Lucius gapped in disbelief at the stump that now adorned the end of his arm. Faintly he leaned back against the wall and slithered down it.

Severus drew himself up, gathered up his cloak and the hand, which still wore the ring and snapped Lucius’ wand in half. “Come on…” he said to Hermione who rose up from the corner and followed him out.

As he past Lucius, who now looked rather green and not entirely conscious he bent down and held the hand up before his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

As soon as they got outside the pair disapparated back to Snape Manor where a large brown owl waited for them. Wearily Hermione took the letter from its leg and the owl flew off.

“What is it?” Severus asked.

“Letter from Dumbledore: Don’t do anything rash. Stay put and we can talk it over later.” She laughed wryly, “For once we seem to be ahead of the old man. Makes a change.”

Severus nodded. They did not speak again until they were collapsed in armchairs in Severus’ study, they hand sat firmly on the desk and the silver ring glinted in the firelight. Outside it was getting dark.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” Hermione said then.

Severus thought guiltily of the picture of Narcissa. “What?”

“Diffindo?” she asked sounding utterly disgusted.

“What about it?”

“I can’t believe you used diffindo to sever his hand!”

“It worked didn’t it?” he asked defensively.

“Yes but really Severus!”

“Was there something?”

“It’s a question of style, and diffindo’s so… We can’t just go around using any old word or people will never take us seriously!”

Severus looked at her disbelievingly and started to laugh.