Chapter 104: The Rescue
Disclaimer:Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.I own only the original characters I create.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 104: The Rescue
The sun hung high over Diagon Alley, indifferent to the horror unfolding beneath it.
The square was packed. Hundreds of witches and wizards had gathered to witness the spectacle. Their faces showed a mixture of morbid curiosity and concealed terror. They stood in clusters, whispering to one another, their eyes fixed on the platform that had been erected before the gates of Gringotts.
Harry watched from the shadows of a nearby alley, hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
'This is a trap,' he reminded himself. This is obviously a trap to lure us out. But we knew that already.' Trap or not, they couldn't let one of their allies get killed and do nothing about it.
Harry was sure that Dumbledore was counting on that.
On the platform stood Augustus Rookwood.
He was barely recognizable. The man who had once been a proud member of the Knights of Walpurgis...a skilled duellist, a loyal friend, a believer in the cause, was now a broken shell. His robes were torn and filthy, stained with blood and grime. His face was swollen, his eyes blackened, his lips cracked and bleeding.
They had placed him in a medieval restraint...a heavy wooden frame that locked his head and hands in place, forcing him to stand upright, unable to move, unable to escape. He looked like a man who had already accepted his death.
Harry's chest tightened. He remembered Rookwood from the old days...the way he had laughed at Rabastan's jokes, the way he had patiently taught Harry the finer points of defensive magic, the way he had stood firm during the raid on the Ministry.
His eyes moved away from Rookwood and to the elegantly dressed man in charge of this charade.
Arthur Weasley stood at the front of the platform, his Weasley-red hair gleaming in the sunlight. He was dressed in formal robes, the insignia of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot pinned to his chest. He looked every inch the powerful, respected leader...a far cry from the impoverished, kindly father figure Harry had read about in another life.
'That's the man who helped destroy everything,' Harry thought, his hands trembling with rage.
In this world, the Weasleys were Dumbledore's most loyal allies. The entire family was devoted to that monster.
"Citizens of Magical Britain," Arthur began, his voice magically amplified to carry across the square. "We gather today to witness justice. To see the enemies of our society brought to account for their crimes."
The crowd murmured, some nodding, others shifting uncomfortably.
"Augustus Rookwood," Arthur continued, gesturing to the bound man, "has been found guilty of treason, murder, and conspiracy to overthrow the Ministry. He has associated with terrorists. He has plotted against our peaceful society. He has-"
Harry stopped listening.
His eyes had found the figure standing at the edge of the platform, wand in hand, face utterly blank.
Remus Lupin.
The Inspector-Chief of the Auror Department. The man who had helped murder the Dursleys. The man who had stood by while Dumbledore's regime destroyed countless lives.
There was no emotion in his face, no flicker of humanity. He stood like a statue, his eyes scanning the crowd with clinical precision.
'He's the executioner,' Harry realized. 'They chose him to do it.'
A hand touched his arm.
"Harry."
Pansy's voice was soft, barely a whisper. She was hidden beside him under her own Invisibility Cloak, her hand finding his in the darkness.
"I'm nervous," she admitted.
Of course she was. This was her first real field mission. But Harry was sure she was ready for it. Otherwise, he would never have agreed to let her come.
Pansy had changed a lot in these past years and had been training almost as much as Harry.
Harry squeezed her hand. "You'll be fine. Just follow the plan."
"What if something goes wrong?"
"Then you use the emergency portkey, as we discussed." Harry's voice was firm. "That's what it's for. If anything happens, if we get separated, you grab Peter, and you get out. Understand?"
Pansy was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Understood."
Harry felt her other hand grasp the pendant hanging from her neck, a small, silver locket that was actually a portkey, enchanted to transport her to one of the many safe houses Harry had prepared across the country. The old ones from the Order were no longer usable; the Ministry knew about them all.
"Good," Harry said. "Now let's save our friend."
<><>
Bellatrix struck without warning.
One moment, the square was filled with the murmur of the crowd and the drone of Arthur Weasley's speech. The next, a massive explosion rocked the far end of Diagon Alley.
Fire erupted from an abandoned building...not ordinary fire, but something that looked far more dangerous. Black flames licked at the sky, twisting and writhing like living things.
To anyone watching, it looked like Fiendfyre, the cursed flame that could devour everything in its path.
It wasn't, of course. It was an illusion...clever, convincing, and utterly terrifying. But the Aurors didn't know that.
Panic erupted.
The crowd scattered, screaming, pushing and shoving as they tried to escape the approaching flames. The Aurors broke formation, some rushing toward the fire, others trying to maintain order, all of them distracted.
Harry felt a surge of fierce pride. 'Bellatrix, you magnificent woman.'
"NOW!" he shouted.
He threw off his Invisibility Cloak and sprinted toward the platform. Pansy was right behind him, her wand drawn. Peter appeared from the other side of the square, moving with a speed that belied his nervous nature.
The plan was simple: Harry would confront Lupin while Peter freed Rookwood. Pansy would provide support, watching their backs and ensuring no one interfered.
Remus Lupin wasted no time before stepping into Harry's path.
He had not been fooled by the chaos. He had not rushed toward the fire. He had stood his ground, waiting, his wand raised, his cold eyes fixed on the spot where Harry had been hiding.
"I wondered when you'd show," Lupin said, his voice flat, emotionless. "Dumbledore has been waiting for you. He knew you'd come for Rookwood. He knows you."
"Get out of my way," Harry growled.
Lupin didn't move. "Resistance is futile. You're outnumbered and outmatched. Surrender now, and I won't hurt your friends."
Harry's eyes flickered to the platform. Peter was almost there, almost at Rookwood's side. Just a few more seconds.
"You murdered my family." The words came out raw. "You killed the Dursleys. They were innocent. They were kind. And you-"
Lupin's expression didn't change. Not a flicker of guilt. Not a moment of hesitation.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You can't expect me to remember everyone I have killed, dont you?" he said. "But it doesn't matter. You're coming with me."
'He doesn't even remember,' Harry thought, his rage burning brighter. 'He doesn't even remember the lives he destroyed. They meant nothing to him. Nothing.'
"You're a monster," Harry said.
Lupin tilted his head, as if considering the word.
"Perhaps," he said. "But I'm a monster who's about to bring you to justice."
He attacked.
The first spell was a curse. A silent, invisible slash that Harry barely dodged. It carved a deep gouge in the wall behind him, sending shards of stone flying.
'He's fast,' Harry thought.
Harry responded with a Verbero, sending a concussive blast toward Lupin. The older wizard deflected it with a flick of his wand, not even blinking.
"You'll have to do better than that."
Harry gritted his teeth. 'Fine. If that's how you want to play it.'
They fought.
Lupin was deadly skilled. His spells were precise, economical, utterly without wasted movement. He didn't taunt. He didn't gloat. He fought with the cold efficiency of a man who had done this a thousand times before.
Harry matched him spell for spell, curse for curse.
Gladius Incendia, a blade of fire that Lupin dodged.
Speculum Aeternum, a mirror charm that reflected a killing curse at its caster.
Aegis, a shield that absorbed a blasting curse meant to break his bones.
But this wasn't enough.
Lupin was faster, stronger, more experienced. Every spell Harry cast, Lupin had an answer. Every attack, Lupin deflected. Every opening, Lupin closed.
'I won't be able to defeat him with ordinary spells,' Harry thought.
Peter tried to help, darting in from the side with a stunning spell. Lupin dispatched him with a single, brutal flick...a curse that caught Peter in the chest and sent him flying into a wall.
"PETER!" Pansy screamed.
She ran to him, dragging his limp body behind an overturned cart. Harry saw blood...a lot of it.
'No,' he thought, his heart seizing. 'No, not Peter. Not him too.'
"Stay with him!" Harry shouted. "Get the portkey ready!"
Lupin turned back to Harry, his expression unchanged. "Just you and me now."
Harry didn't reply. He attacked.
The duel reached its climax.
Harry was exhausted, bleeding from a dozen small wounds, his magic reserves running dangerously low. Lupin was untouched...calm, composed, utterly in control.
But Harry had something Lupin didn't.
The Grimoire.
He reached deep, pulling knowledge from the ancient artifact, spells that hadn't been used in centuries, magic that no one in this world had seen before. The power flowed through him.
"Fragmen Tempestas."
A storm of razor-sharp magical fragments erupted from his wand, filling the air with a whirling maelstrom of destruction. Lupin's eyes widened...the first real emotion he had shown, as he was forced to retreat, his shield flickering under the assault.
'That's right,' Harry thought, pressing his advantage. 'You've never seen anything like this. You don't know what I'm capable of.'
"Glacius Mors."
A wave of killing cold swept toward Lupin, freezing the ground, the air, the very moisture in his lungs. Lupin countered with fire, but the effort cost him...his face was pale, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
For the first time, Harry saw an opening.
Lupin's shield was down. His wand was raised, but his reaction was a second too slow. Harry had a clear shot at his chest.
He raised his wand, a killing curse on his lips...
And hesitated.
'I've never killed anyone before.'
Lupin saw the hesitation. "You don't have it in you, boy," Lupin said. "You're too weak to win this war without Riddle. Better give up now."
Harry's eyes narrowed. Remus was not wrong. If he started to hesitate now, he would never have a chance against Dumbledore.
He aimed his wand.
"Vulnus Sempiternum."
The spell erupted from his wand...a curse from the darkest pages of the Grimoire, a wound that would never heal, a death that would be slow and painful and absolute.
It struck Lupin in the chest.
The older wizard looked down, shock flickering across his face for the first time. The wound opened a gash that should have been fatal instantly, but wasn't. Instead, it bled. And bled. And bled.
Lupin fell to his knees.
"You..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You actually did it..."
He did...
He had killed a man.
He had killed the man who had murdered his family.
And it didn't feel like victory. There was no satisfaction. There was...nothing.
Lupin collapsed onto the cobblestones, his blood pooling beneath him.
His eyes, those cold, emotionless eyes, were wide with shock.
Harry stood over him, breathing hard, his wand still raised.
He's dead, he thought. He's actually dead...because of me.'
The world seemed to slow around him. The sounds of the battle, the screams, the spells, the chaos, faded into a distant hum. All Harry could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears.
I'm a murderer now.
The thought was cold, sharp, undeniable.
I'm no better than them.
No. That wasn't true. He knew it wasn't true. He had killed in self-defense, in defense of his friends, in defense of everything he believed in.
But the guilt was still there.
"Harry!"
Pansy's voice broke through the haze.
He turned. She was supporting Peter, whose face was pale with blood loss.
Rookwood was beside them, free and barely standing, but alive.
'They're alive,' Harry thought, relief flooding through him. 'They're all alive, and I'll have to make sure they stay that way.' This was not the moment for doubts.
"We have to go!" Pansy shouted. "More Aurors are coming!"
Harry looked down at Lupin's body one last time.
'I'm sorry,' Harry thought, though he wasn't sure who he was apologizing to. 'I'm sorry it had to be this way.'
He turned away.
"Portkeys. Now."
Pansy grabbed Peter's hand and Rookwood's arm, her other hand clutching the pendant around her neck. Harry pulled his own portkey, a small, engraved coin, from his pocket.
They activated them simultaneously.
The world twisted, and Diagon Alley disappeared.
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