A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 62 ~ The Coup

The first duel was more of a brawl than a series of magical attacks, Unther sending a flash of light that momentarily blinded his opponent, then charging, taking Henry down. They wrestled about, tangled in each others’ robes, the crowd booing and screaming at them to stop shagging and start throwing spells.

The duel came to a nasty end when the men separated and Unther pointed his wand at Henry’s face, muttering something. Suddenly a three foot pointed steel rod shot out of his wand tip driving straight through Henry’s eye and out the back of his head, blood clotting in his hair thickly. Henry shuddered horribly, already dead, falling forward and sliding further down the rod until Unther unceremoniously pushed him off, the pointed rod retracting back into his wand as the crowd cheered.

Several house elves came out and cleaned up the mess.

Rosier stood up, applying the Sonorous charm, amplifying his voice.

“I give you Unther Greybeard! Our first runner-up!” he shouted. Again the audience applauded as the wizard smiled and left the arena.

“Nasty,” Draco said, shaking his head as Pumbleberry announced the next combatants.

“Elizabeth Yaxley and…erm…Cornelius Cracklesforth!”

Cheers rang out as the opponents entered the ring. Elizabeth was a favorite…the pretty witch was so brutal. Cornelius was tall, bald, narrow-eyed with a pointed black goatee and heavy black eyebrows.

Combatants weren’t allowed to use the same spell twice, so no one knew what Elizabeth had up her sleeve this time.

Witch and wizard faced off, Cornelius’ eyes watching the witch’s feet closely to see if he could tell which direction she intended to dart when she parried his first blow, hoping to at least wing her. He wanted to go for her previously injured arm.

Elizabeth didn’t give him anything to observe. She had her wand at the ready and stood still, her blue eyes unwavering.

“BEGIN!” Pumbleberry boomed.

Elizabeth quickly threw up a mirror shield that bounced Cornelius’ lava blast back at him, the wizard barely managing to dive out of the way as the hot magma streamed back at him, the crowd roaring approval.

“Speculum Plures!” Elizabeth cried, striking herself with her wand tip.

Suddenly the witch appeared to unfold like a string of paper dolls, surrounding the startled wizard as he scrambled to his feet. Cornelius spun as he looked at more than a dozen Elizabeths encircling him, all wearing predatory smiles, every wand pointed at his person.

“Only one of you can cast a spell!” he shouted at them, still spinning trying to train his wand on the real Elizabeth.

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” a chorus of female voices said back to the wizard, then all of the witches slashed at him

“Sectumsempra!” they cried, Severus leaning forward as the original spell he created was used by the witch…but never with such devastating results.

Cornelius was sliced into bloody ribbons. It looked as if he’d just exploded into strips of robes, flesh, bones and pieces. His remains dropped heavily to the ground as the crowd went wild. Apparently all of her doubles could also cast the spell. An amazing bit of magic. Cornelius hadn’t stood a chance.

”Plures Finite,” Elizabeth breathed. All of the duplicates folded back into the witch, who curtsied demurely to the crowd as Rosier announced her the winner. She exited the arena, passing the house elf clean-up crew that was on its way in.

Severus shook his head. That had been quick. Draco still hadn’t closed his mouth yet. Severus nudged him.

“Damn!” the blonde wizard breathed.

“She’s improved the use of my spell a hundred-fold,” the Potions Master said with a frown. The Sectumsempra spell was always rather dangerous, but now…dear gods. A brilliant use of it however. Elizabeth deserved her win.

It was at this moment Severus noticed Bellatrix enter with another masked Death Eater. They were on the other side of the arena. The pair walked up the stairs and Bella forced the wizards and witches on the first row to move down. No one complained. This was Bellatrix LeStrange after all.

“Draco,” the Potions Master hissed, “Bella is here. No doubt the person with her is Voltaire.”

Draco looked at the masked Death Eater, who sat stiffly, staring at the crowd. What was different about him was he wore a full skull mask instead of a half one. A few Death Eaters did start doing this after Voldemort’s death, so although it was a bit odd, it wasn’t totally unheard of.

“Yes, I believe you’re right, Professor,” Draco said, feeling his belly tightening, “Tonight is the night this madness finally ends.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed as Pumbleberry announced the final duelists.

“Fenrir Greyback and Hubert Willings,” the fat wizard called out.

The crowd hissed and booed as Fenrir walked into the arena with his too-tight robes and filthy matted hair. He gave the crowd the finger as he watched his opponent enter. Hubert Willings was a younger wizard. He couldn’t have been more than thirty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was about five ten, much smaller than Fenrir. But he had a murderous glint in his eyes as he looked at the huge wizard. The crowd was rooting for him. No one wanted Fenrir to win.

“This is what they would put on my throne?” Voltaire hissed to Bella, his voice muffled by the mask, “This is…is an insult to my father and myself!”

Bella didn’t answer him. Voltaire’s rage was palpable. There was a light mesh over the mask’s eyeholes that he could see through, but didn’t show his eyes. Their red color would have been noticed. The witch imagined they were glittering brightly.

Fenrir, who was watching the young wizard intently, suddenly froze, then lifted his great shaggy head and spun slowly, his nostrils pulsating as his eyes narrowed. He had scented something distinctly familiar, unpleasant and frightening…but it was gone now.

Pumbleberry waited until the werewolf turned back to face his opponent, eliciting boos and threats from the audience who would have preferred him to start the match while the werewolf’s back was turned.

“BEGIN!” the wizard shouted, sitting down quickly.

Hubert fired a stream of silver at Fenrir. This was the same spell Desecratia had used on the werewolf, but was legal because this was the first time the wizard had used the spell in the competition. But Fenrir was prepared and bounded over Hubert, clearing the spell and him, though the wizard did his best to train the stream on him. Fenrir darted aside and transformed a stone into a large shield, grabbing it and holding it up to block the silver, charging toward Hubert with a roar.

The wizard ran, disillusioning himself. But a disillusionment spell was nothing to a werewolf and Fenrir continued to pursue him, hardly giving the wizard a chance to throw another spell. The crowd was jeering.

“Turn and fight you coward!”

”Don’t you let Fenrir defeat you!”

Hubert managed to fire another spell at the werewolf, a bolt of lightening flying from his wand, hitting the shield and shocking the werewolf. The shield conducted electricity and Fenrir dropped it, falling and instinctively rolling away, a crater blasted into the earth where he had landed. If he had slower reflexes, he would have been blown to bits. Copying his opponent’s lead, Fenrir disillusioned himself as well, which was very bad for Hubert, who began firing at the werewolf’s shimmer wildly. But he couldn’t see Fenrir well…he was so fast the shimmer was like a streaked blur of wriggling heat waves, the werewolf long gone from where he blasted.

Suddenly the shimmer was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Hubert blinked before he was absolutely flattened to the ground, crushed as if landed on by a great weight. The audience groaned as his head was snapped back and a large chunk of his throat torn out, blood gushing like a crimson river. The head flopped forward.

The wizard was dead.

Fenrir appeared standing over him, chewing. The werewolf swallowed and wiped his bloody mouth with his hand. What had happened was Fenrir leapt high into the air, taking his shimmer out of view and landed on top of the wizard, dispatching him.

The audience was silent as Fenrir glared at them.

“He is dangerous,” Voltaire said in a low voice as he took in the werewolf, “And the others all hate him. How is it he is so fast, Aunt Bella?”

”He is a werewolf. The others are afraid he will turn all Death Eaters if he becomes the next Dark Lord,” Bella whispered back.

”Why don’t they kill him?” Voltaire asked, his eyes narrowed.

”They are all cowards, Voltaire. Sheep. They need someone to tell them what to do,” she hissed at him as Pumbleberry announced Fenrir was the final runner-up to the crowd.

Not one clap of applause met this news. Fenrir scowled at the audience as he exited the ring.

“Now there will be a slight intermission as we set up for the ceremony. Food and drink will be served. Please depart the stand and head out into the outer chamber,” Rosier announced. The grumbling Death Eaters obliged.

“Keep your eyes on Bellatrix,” Severus said to Draco as they hurried down the stands and into the crowd, working their way toward Bellatrix and her companion.

The crowd milled about in the outer chamber, Voltaire drawing away from others that bumped into him in passing, hissing like a snake. Suddenly he recognized Severus, who was walking toward him.

“My servant,” he said in a low voice to himself as the wizard walked past him and addressed Bella.

This angered Voltaire for a moment until he realized the wizard couldn’t have recognized him to show him the proper respect. Severus was followed by a tall, blonde-haired wizard with gray eyes. Quite handsome. Voltaire’s eyes washed over Draco. Hm. This Death Eater looked like the perfect starter wizard for sexual exploration after learning the ropes with Jordan. Voltaire made a mental note to find out his name.

”Good evening, Bella,” Severus said to the witch with a bow.

”Ah, Severus. Would you mind standing near me during the ceremony?” Bella asked him.

”Not at all,” Severus replied.

”Good,” the witch said, feeling she had an ally in the Potions Master. Not that she would need him, but she felt he would help her considering his part in the coup.

“Hello Bellatrix,” Draco said with a bow, also ignoring Voltaire.

“Hello Draco,” Bella replied.

Voltaire listened attentively. Draco. His name was Draco.

“Did you enjoy the night’s events?” the wizard inquired politely.

Bellatrix’s eyes grew dark.

“Not one of them is worthy of the throne,” she spat.

”Bella, you’d better change your tune or you may find yourself on the end of a Crucio by our new Dark Lord or Lady,” Devon said, walking up to the witch.

”Never!” she hissed.

Rosier smiled spitefully.

“Such denial. Face it, Bella…there will be a new Dark Lord to lead us,” the jeweler said.

“I never said there wouldn’t be,” the witch snapped at him, hate in her eyes.

Rosier laughed.

“So much for the ‘true’ Dark Lord’s return, eh?” he quipped, disappearing into the crowd as both Bellatrix and Voltaire shook with rage.

That wizard would be tortured and killed for his audacity.

Rosier stopped by the arena entrance and called for the crowd to reassemble.

“Come Severus, I wish to be close,” Bella said, pushing through the crowd, Voltaire walking beside her but giving no indication they were together. Severus surveyed the crowd. Everyone would be bottle-necked inside the arena, which had only one way in.

“Draco, position yourself behind Bellatrix,” the Potions Master whispered as they approached the area where Fenrir, Unther and Elizabeth stood in a line before a small podium. Rosier stood behind it. Elizabeth and Fenrir were glaring at each other.

Suddenly Fenrir stiffened again as Bellatrix and Voltaire appeared at the edge of the crowd, just as Rosier started to give his speech about the prowess of the runner-ups and how they worked so hard to get to this point.

The werewolf stared at the Death Eater in the full mask and robes. The wizard looked back at him. If Fenrir had a tail it would have tucked tightly between his legs. Fenrir wasn’t afraid of many things, but this…this he was terrified of…that acrid, reptilian scent.

Voldemort’s scent.

Fenrir suddenly let out a yelp and barreled through the crowd at a full run, knocking startled Death Eaters left and right as he fled the arena and Pumbleberry’s manor at full speed. Everyone was so stunned, they didn’t know how to react. One of the runner-ups had bailed.

Good thing it was Fenrir. He must have cracked under the strain.

Severus looked at Bella, who nudged Voltaire. The wizard stepped forward, pointing his wand over the arena while everyone was distracted.

“Morsmodre!” the young wizard cried in a high-pitched voice, the dread image of the Dark Mark appearing glittering about the startled crowd, which gasped and pressed back, frightened at both the image and the familiar voice that uttered the spell. Draco was caught in the crush behind Bellatrix and Voltaire, unable to work himself free.

Bella blasted Rosier away from the podium, and stepped forward, her eyes full of hatred as she pointed her wand at Elizabeth.

“Avada Kedavra!” she screamed, covering the witch in the deadly green light.

The startled witch didn’t stand a chance, neither did Unther as Voltaire took him out with the same spell as the Death Eaters looked on stunned.

“There is only one Dark Lord!” Bella screamed insanely as Voltaire pulled off his hood and ripped the skull mask from his face.

“Oh my gods. He’s returned! The Dark Lord’s returned!” cries went up in horror and disbelief.

“Yes! Yes! I’ve returned you sniveling, conniving servants! How dare you try to replace me!” Voltaire hissed as one by one the Death Eaters fell to their knees, crying out for forgiveness. In their shock, not one tried to escape.

Severus pressed his track-a-port.

“It’s time!” Kingsley shouted to the Order members, “Wands out and go!”

Suddenly, the arena was filled with Order members, which fell on the kneeling, surprised Death Eaters.

“No! No! We’ve been betrayed!” Bella screamed, firing blasts into the crowd as the Order and Death Eaters began battling.

Neville Longbottom grimly ran toward the podium, his wand extended as Severus suddenly charged Voltaire, taking the wizard down to the ground, Bella screaming at him.

“You traitorous dog!” the witch screamed at the Potions Master as he struck Voltaire in the jaw and ripped his wand out of his scaly hand. Bella pointed her wand at Severus.

“Avada Ked…”she cried before being covered in the green light of another Killing curse…this one cast by a grim-faced Neville Longbottom.

“Noooooo! Aunt Bella!” Voltaire cried as he watched her writhe in the curse’s hold before falling to the ground, dead and wide-eyed, “Noooo!”

Severus dragged the wizard to his feet by his throat.

”No throne for you today, my Lord,” he said derisively, choking the wizard until his forked tongue lolled out. Gods, that felt good.

”That’s enough, Severus,” a familiar voice said coolly, “Voltaire is properly…subdued.”

Severus relaxed his grip after giving Voltaire a final squeeze.

“Yes, Headmaster,” he said as Voltaire choked. Severus kept a firm grip on him.

“I hope you try to fight boy,” he hissed in Voltaire’s ear hole, “Please try to get away from me. Please.”

Voltaire swallowed painfully, his red eyes shifting to the tall, white-haired wizard in front of him. His beard was waist length and he wore half-moon glasses.

”My name is Albus Dumbledore, Voltaire, and you are under my protection now,” the old wizard said kindly.

Voltaire’s eyes narrowed. Protection? What did he mean “protection?” Weren’t they going to kill him? Voltaire stared at Albus, thinking he hadn’t heard correctly.

”I am going to help you, my boy. We’re going to get you all sorted out. We’ve looked for you a long, long time,” the wizard continued.

“You aren’t going to kill me?” Voltaire asked the Headmaster, who shook his head.

”No son. We are not murderers. We are going to take care of you. Help you,” the Headmaster said.

Severus snorted.

“However, I want to kill you,” he whispered in Voltaire’s ear, “So keep that in mind while they are ‘helping you.'”

Voltaire looked at Severus and saw death plainly in his eyes.

All around them, Death Eaters were being bound and set on the ground in neat rows by the Order members. There had been quite a few injuries, and several deaths on both sides, but the Order prevailed.

“Cover his face and bring him along, Severus,” Albus said.

The Potions Master roughly pulled Voltaire’s hood over his head so it shaded his face, twisted his hands behind his back, binding them tightly with his wand, then pushed him forward roughly.

“Follow the Headmaster,” he growled.

Voltaire did just that. Bellatrix was dead and now he was alone. Alone but under the protection of his father’s greatest nemesis, Albus Dumbledore.

His father had been right.

The old wizard was a fool.

*************************************************
Back at the stronghold, Jordan was eyeing a vial of thick yellow liquid. It was a colonic guaranteed to make his bowels clean enough to eat out of. He grimaced and began to tilt it to his mouth when his door was flung open and several house elves danced in, smiles of intense joy on their gnarled little faces.

“We is free! Free!” they cried, dancing little frightening jigs around the wizard. They looked like little dancing demons, their pointed teeth showing as they grinned.

Jordan lowered the potion.

”What do you mean, free?” the wizard asked him.

”The wards. The wards on the stronghold. They is dropped. Bellatrix LeStrange is dead. Dead! We can leaves now. All of us! You!” a house elf informed him happily.

Jordan dropped the vial in his hand. It shattered on the stone floor, the yellow contents thickly spreading.

“Free?” he repeated, unable to process the word. He’d been a prisoner so long.

“Yes, Jordan! Free like birds!” another elf said, smiling up at him. “Try to leave.”

Jordan stared down at the elf.

“I…I don’t know my bearings. I can’t disapparate a long distance because I haven’t done it in a while,” the healer said to the elf.

One had to have confidence when they disapparated, or he would splinch.

”Fine, takes my hand and we will goes outside,” the elf said, the other elves all clasping claws as well. Jordan reached down hesitantly and took the creature’s hand.

Suddenly he was standing on a rocky mountainside. It was a clear night and hundreds of stars winked down at him. A cool breeze flowed over the wizard and he stared up at the night sky, a sky he hadn’t seen in almost nineteen years. His eyes began to glisten.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed staring up at the diamonds of the universe winking back at him.

The house elf holding his hand looked up at him.

“The stars, Jordan?” the creature squeaked.

“No…er…yes. But not just the stars. Freedom. Freedom is the most beautiful thing on earth,” the wizard replied, rolling his shoulders as if they had just been freed of a heavy, heavy weight.

They stood there a long time, elves and wizard, drinking in the beauty of the night and their new-found liberty.

***********************************************
A/N: Lol. Fenrir got away! Bella’s gone. Jordan’s free and Albus has Voltaire. Thanks for reading. ***