Daimons

Chapter 29

Gavin moaned as he slowly woke. His memory fogged; he didn’t know where he was. Every movement was painful as he slowly looked around the room. He was sure he had been here before but when? There were different shape vials sitting on the end table. Most were, by the silhouettes of the bottles, pain medicine. He grimaced as he tried to reach for one.

“I’ll get that for you.”

‘Hermione! Where did she come from?’ he thought to himself. “When did you get here?”

“Been sitting here since I brought you back from the Death Eaters’ camp.”

“Death Eaters? Why would I be in their camp? I… oh Merlin no.”

“Gavin.”

“No… I did terrible…” His eyes widened as he recalled his time with his fiancée. “Hermione tell me I didn’t…” He took a hard swallow. “Please tell me that I didn’t rape you.”

“Oh my love…” She drew a weeping Gavin into her arms. “You did not rape me. You are not that man. Are you listening?” She lifted his face so their eyes could meet. “You are as much a victim as I was. Do not blame yourself. The man that raped me is gone and I have the man that I feel in love with back into my arms.”

“How can you be with me?”

“I love you.” Her own tears started to fall. “No matter what you did, I will always love you. Tomorrow when you awake we will start our courtship all over again and when the day comes for me to marry you I will wear white for nothing ever happened.”

Hermione crawled up next to her boyfriend and laid her head on his chest. No words were spoken as he lovingly stroked her back. Unaware of the battle that was about to ensue, the two fell to sleep in each other’s arms.

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Harry had spent a small fortune to buy as many invisibility robes he could find. Spending all afternoon searching he was still one cloak short as midnight neared. It was agreed upon that Silverrage, who was stronger and quicker than the rest, would be the one to forgo the robe.

It was a moonless night and the stars were hidden behind a blanket of clouds. It was a good night to strike. No one but the small elite group knew of the attack. Miriam didn’t even tell Neville. The less people that knew the less likely Voldemort would find out about the raid. The group was somber as they met outside the gates of Hogwarts. They all knew, without saying a word, that the outcome of the war would be determined before the light of the day.

“We all know what must be done. I’m tired and I want it over with. If you can take prisoners, do; if you can’t, be sure they do not give our position away,” Harry spoke softly but with conviction. “And if we have to retreat we will bring everyone back, alive or dead, understood?”

There was a general nod of agreement.

“Good! It’s time.” Harry pulled the portkey from his pocket. The chain sat on Harry’s upturned palm. The small group stared, for a moment, at the locket until Armstrong placed his large hand over Harry’s as in a handshake.

“To victory,” the Daimon stated.

“To victory,” they all repeated as the placed their hands on top of each other’s. With a broad grin on his face Harry waved his wand over all of their hands. The familiar pull of magic sent the group to their fate.

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Voldemort’s compound was quiet. After his tantrum, which resulted in injuring some of his followers, Voldemort had gone to bed, leaving the Death Eaters to lick their wounds and wind down from an extremely rough day. A few had gone home to their families. Most had found a spot and fell asleep.

With years of nothing happening, the guards became lax in their duties. There was no one to hear the small group ‘pop’ onto the mansion’s grounds.

With a wave of his hand Harry sent them on their mission to secure and apprehend all Death Eaters. With his cloak tightly wrapped around him he soundlessly walked through the front door. There was only one thought: to find and destroy Voldemort.

With the movement of cat, slow and cautious, Silverrage came up behind two guards. Not having the kind heart that Harry has, he snapped one guard’s neck and before the other one could reach for his wand the Death Eater was lifted high into the air and with one hand Silverrage choked the masked man to death. There was a satisfactory grin on his face when he dropped the body, with a thud, to the ground. The gratification of disposing two varmints were short lived when he heard voices in the distance. Their presence would soon be known. Silverrage decided that he would take as many of Voldemort’s followers down as possible before they could sound the alarm. If he was to die he would take his vengeance before he took his last breath.

As the voice came closer, Silverrage placed the two bodies in a nearby fountain. The bodies floated to the bottom quickly. The werewolf slipped into the water next to his victims and waited. The voices grew louder as they came closer. They were calling out their comrades’ names. When no one responded the wizards became suspicious. His ears twitched when heard them pull their wands from their hiding places. He hoped that the advantage of surprise would be enough to take down the enemy. He waited… waited until one of the Death Eaters had positioned himself in front of the fountain. He waited. A slight ripple of the water caught the man’s eye. Stepping closer to see what caused the movement, Silverrage sprung from his watery hiding place and used the killing curse. With the use of magic the wards rang loud waking the inhabitants and letting them know that there were intruders.

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“Oh crap,” Miriam said when she heard the wards. The invisibility cloak did little to relieve her of the fear that flowed through her. She would rather rely on her ability as a warrior than using trickery.

“I can smell you witch.”

Miriam turned to see a masked Death Eater blocking her way. She froze and calmed her rapidly beating heart. She would keep her senses and survive to see another day. That was more that the wizard that stood before her could say. Daimons use magic sparingly. They’d rather use cunning and deception to defeat their adversary.

With wand in hand the Death Eater moved slowly about the room. One arm reached in front of him, moving from side to side, trying to make contact with the Daimon.

“Very good witch, are you holding your breath?” he asked. He tilted his head, trying to listen to the slightest movement. “I know you’re still here. Give yourself up and I might let you live.”

A dagger silently slipped from the sleeve of her robe to the palm of her hand. Her heart had nearly stopped by the time the Death Eater was within an arm’s length. She would have but one chance to strike. When his hand made contact with her arm he gave a yell of satisfaction. His cry of victory was cut short when she pulled on his arm twisting it behind his back and slit his throat from ear to ear. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

She callously stepped over the body as she left the confines of the room.

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Armstrong cursed when he hear the ward sound. Things would become more difficult now that their presence was known. He had already subdued three Death Eaters. None of them would wake for hours and hopefully by then the battle would be over with.

“Arm, are you here?” Silverrage asked as he entered the long hall way. “I can smell you man. Speak up.”

“Are you sure you’re a werewolf and not a fucking raging bull,” he asked in an angry whisper. “Are you the cause of the ward going off?”

“Yeah, but there are five less bastards to give us any more trouble,” he whispered back.

“You’re an arse, werewolf, but I am damn glad that you’re on our side.” An invisible hand slapped Silverrage on the arm. “Come on, we have a war to win.”

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Kingsley was writhing on the ground in pain form a curse when Tonks caught up with him. Three wizards were taking turns at cursing the Auror. She threw her cloak off and tossed it over her fallen comrade. The next curse missed its target as an invisible Kingsley rolled away and out of the line of fire.

Tonks had already sent a rope from the tip of her wand and hogtied the three Death Eaters. The two left the three men gagged and wiggling on the floor. Kingsley confiscated the three’s wands and slipped them into his waist band.

“You should be glad you’re still alive.” Kingsley gave the closet Death Eater a swift kick to the side. “Thanks Tonks, I owe you one.” He gave her a brotherly hug before they continued on with their mission.

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Harry took the chance that Voldemort would seize the nicest of the bedrooms and that would be Lucius’ old room. He questioned Draco the day before and got a detailed description of where the room was located. The few Death Eaters he ran into were to busy rushing to the outskirts of the manor to understand that he was there. His small group of warriors did their job and drew the enemy away from him.

Harry stood just outside Lucius’ old bedroom. His hand hesitated as he reached for the doorknob. His future and that of every decent wizard lay beyond the door. His heart pounded and black spots faded in and out of his eyes.

“Come in Potter. I can smell your fear through the door. Step in and meet your fate, or do you need to run back to Hogwarts and be trained more by those incompetent Daimons? Come through the threshold and let us end it here and now. We both are weary and it time for one of us to die. To bad that it will have to be you,” Voldemort mocked from the far side of the door.

Harry tossed his father’s cloak carelessly to the ground and squared his shoulders. Instead of walking through the doorway, which surely would have been an ambush, he apparated into the room. There was a chance he could have been splinched or even worse, apparated right into Voldemort but he wouldn’t be a human target framed by the doorway.

Luck was with him. He landed on the far side of the four post bed, Voldemort’s back towards him. He shot a disabling curse and grazed the Dark Lord’s right shoulder, sending him turning quickly around. Harry was saved from a death curse when it hit one of the four posts of the bed. Rolling across the floor Harry sent another disabling curse that struck Voldemort in the left hip, sending the snake faced man to floor in a scream of agony. Quickly standing, Harry dashed behind a large cherry wood desk. He tossed an immobilizing curse to apprehend the fallen Dark Lord but was surprised to see the wizard unmoving on the floor.

Believing Voldemort was playing opossum, Harry cautiously stood and sent a stinging curse at the body that lay motionless on the floor. The body twitched but did nothing else. Scratching his head he wondered what just happened, nothing he had cast was powerful enough to kill the wizard. With his wand still pointed at the body and the killing curse on his lips he stepped to the body and nudged it with his foot. Voldemort was dead that was for sure, all Harry wanted to know was why?

It was then that his small group of warriors, burst into the room.

Vigilantly, Armstrong advanced to the motionless body and knelt to check the pulse in Voldemort’s neck. With a confused look he turned to Harry and asked, “What the hell happened?”

“I wish I knew.” Harry shrugged.

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