Fic: No Hiding Place book Five: High in the Sky (22/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Five: High In The Sky (22/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 22

The small attacks seemed to be working. Soon, there were fewer raids on the villages as the Death Eaters gathered to protect their forts, fearing that what had happened at the Riddle house would be repeated. It was good to finally have a victory, even though it brought Harry no joy to order people's houses to be destroyed.

But not all the news were good.

Small bands of Aurors and Order members had been lost on training missions, some turning out dead, but others disappeared from the face of the earth. Such losses always hit Harry hard, but this time it was worse than before,

One of the names on the list handed to him was Neville Longbottom.

Harry could only sit there and stare at the parchment, ignoring the buzz around the room. He didn't see Hermione's tears or the way Dean broke his knuckles on the solid stone wall. All he could think of was that he should probably make sure that someone had informed Mrs. Longbottom.

He had no idea what he should tell her; assuring her he'd do anything to get him back would be kind of hypocritical, but he'd be damned if he sent condolences before knowing his friend was truly lost.

It was fortunate that Sirius had stayed home with Remus, both finding it easier to browse through the books in silence while they figured out the final details of their mission. Harry was having hard time staying in control as it was.

Trying to deal with Sirius' worry would have probably made him snap.

The mere thought made him gag. Merlin! Sometimes he loathed himself more than anyone else.

This wasn't about some strategy on the paper, this was about a friend and how the hell could he just stand here and watch his housemates crumble all around him without joining them in their grief? In their rage.

Harry saw Ron looking at him, and for the briefest of moments he knew that if Ron made even the barest of suggestions of going out with their army and bringing Neville back, he would probably say yes and think about it later. At the same time he knew with absolute certainty that he would never do anything of the sort.

A horrible thought hit him, making him gag again, and he turned slowly to look at Dumbledore. The fact that the old Headmaster was very carefully standing on the other side of the room with his back turned to him made him mutter curses from under his breath.

The room was suddenly too full of people. He couldn't breathe in here; any deep breath would surely force the primitive scream out of his lungs.

Harry turned around and walked stiffly to the smaller meeting room he used as his private office.

Glad that professor McGonagall was taking care of the girls -- Hermione now reduced to growling, but both Lavender and Parvati sobbing loudly -- Ron inched away from the other Gryffindors. He was unable to let himself even think about what it meant to have Neville disappear like that.

Until they knew anything for sure, he refused to consider the fact that being taken by the Death Eaters was as good as being dead.

He knew death, and this wasn't it. Couldn't be it.

Denial was a happy place right now, and Ron was trying his best to stay there for as long as he could. It was clear that to everyone else, reality was too hard to escape, and there were all sorts of angry outburst coming from his friends and even some of the professors in the room.

He didn't want to talk to Dean, who was already being scolded by madam Pomfrey for breaking his hand. What good would words do anyway? No one in this room could do anything about the whole thing, well except maybe for Harry, but even he was looking weird, walking away from his people, his robes billowing behind him menacingly.

Ron rushed after Harry. "Harry, wait up!"

"Not now, Ron."

Not paying any attention on the words beyond realizing they were so obviously growled from between clenched teeth, Ron went after his friend. This was not the time to be alone with grief. "Harry..."

Harry stopped and slowly turned around. "Not. Now."

Ron shivered at the maelstrom of fury and pain showing in Harry's eyes. He'd never seen Harry like this and had no idea what to do or say. Anger or grief would be okay, but this went beyond anything he had experienced.

"Mr. Weasley."

Spinning around at the sound of his name, Ron actually felt relieved to see Snape standing at the doorway. "Yeah. Okay." It didn't matter that Snape hadn't actually said anything; he understood him anyway.

It was definitely weird.

He wanted to leave the room and the oppressive mood, but for some reason he hesitated before stepping out, lingering by the wall in silence, almost afraid to look back.

To Ron's relief, Snape was just standing there, behind Harry. He was touching Harry's shoulder, but that was all. Letting out a shuddering sigh, Ron turned to go and then froze as he heard Harry whisper quietly.

"They will know who he is and if he's not dead already..."

"I know."

Ron flinched at the calm way Snape just said it. How could anyone just say something like that?

"Damn, I'm tired of all this..." Harry's voice trailed off. There was a small silence as Snape said nothing and simply stood there, waiting. Then Harry turned to look over his shoulder. "Do you think it was intentional that they took Neville?"

"I don't know."

Ron shook his head a little, exasperation radiating from him. Why on earth couldn't Snape just lie? It would be easy, even Ron could probably manage the words about it not being anyone's fault. That it was probably a random attack or something. He knew how hard Harry took these things, so why couldn't Snape do something to prevent all the guilt and stuff?

"Yeah."

Turning around completely, Harry kept his gaze on Snape. "We have a lot to do. I can't do this now." His lips twisted into something that wasn't exactly a smile. "It won't help anyone and I'm just so..." It seemed he didn't how to finish his sentence.

"Anything you need right now?" Snape asked, still calm as ever.

Harry shook his head. "Later."

They stood there for a long moment, Ron unable to leave, neither Harry nor Snape even noticing his presence. There was a commotion in the big meeting hall, but Ron knew no one would come here now, no matter what.

Finally Harry sighed. "You know what happens next, don't you?" He didn't even wait for Snape's muttered affirmative. "I have to use this. It may be the only chance we get."

Ron had no idea what he was talking about, but he could hear disgust in Harry's voice. He was a bit surprised to see that Snape didn't seem to be much happier about the whole thing.

"Can you do it?"

There was not even the slightest of hesitations, as Harry nodded at Snape's question. "I have to." His lips quirked into yet another not-really-a-smile. "So yeah. I can do it."

"Good," Snape said quietly.

Ron's eyes widened as Harry stepped closer to Snape, hand moving to touch Snape's. Trying not to make his disgust too obvious, Ron turned around and rushed back into the big meeting hall. Whatever happened next, he so didn't need to see it.

He wished he knew what they were talking about.

Harry took a deep breath, his fingers brushing against Snape's grounding him. "I can do this," he muttered, trying to reassure himself more than Snape.

He didn't expect there to be a reply, glad that Snape only looked at him. It was more than enough, and way better than the empty words anyone else would offer. Snape would also understand what he wanted to say even when he didn't really say it.

"I think I should go back there." Not that Harry wanted to. He just knew that hiding in here didn't help. The longer he stood here, the less he wanted to go and face his troops.

Snape agreed. "Yes, I think you should."

They walked out side by side without touching. Snape had his arms crossed on his chest, his robes billowing as usual as he swept out of the room, Harry looking just as forbidding with the tight expression on his face.

The mood in the big meeting hall was still somber, and for once people didn't focus on Harry when he stepped through the side door. Everyone was staring at an old lady who was slowly making her way across the room towards Albus Dumbledore.

Even though Harry had never seen Neville's grandmother before, her appearance was too famous to be missed. Looking drained, Mrs. Longbottom still managed to stand straight under the impressive hat as she walked slowly across the room.

McGonagall went to greet her. "Fenella. We just heard. I'm so sorry."

"Minerva." The stuffed vulture shook a little as Mrs. Longbottom nodded curtly. "I don't need you to be sorry. I want my grandson back!"

Harry flinched as if someone had slapped him.

"My dear Fenella, I assure you, we want Neville back as much as you do." Dumbledore stepped forward, holding out his hands and looking as sympathetic as possible.

This time, his sympathy wasn't received with the usual grace.

Mrs. Longbottom's hat looked it would capsize as the old woman shook with anger. "Nonsense! What are you going to do about getting my grandson back?"

"Fenella... I'm not sure there is anything to be done." McGonagall muttered quietly, trying to draw her attention away from the Headmaster. "The Death Eaters...."

"Don't try to patronize me, Minerva. I know quite well what the Death Eaters do to their victims. What I don't know is what you're going to do about Voldemort and his foolish games!"

Something inside Harry snapped, and he didn't have to pretend as he said calmly, "I think we've had enough games already, Mrs. Longbottom."

People turned to look at him.

Mrs. Longbottom glared. "Harry Potter. What are you going to do about this?" It was clear that she didn't think he could manage much better than Albus Dumbledore.

"I will challenge Voldemort to a duel," Harry said. The anger burning inside turned this into something far beyond a simple strategy, and right that moment he would have indeed issued any challenge possible and even believed in it, no matter how he knew all challenges would be futile. "That should get us Neville back."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione hissed, "Don't! Harry knows what he's doing!" making him close his mouth and glare.

It once again looked like everyone else knew what was going on and he was left out of the loop. There would be some explaining to do later on!

Mrs. Longbottom's expression softened a little. "And he will accept your challenge?"

"He will if I make it official. It's almost new moon, and I have all the witnesses I need here." Raising his voice, Harry repeated with a louder voice, making the whole room echo with his words. "I hereby challenge Voldemort to a duel."

The sound of cheers and applauds in the room was almost deafening.

Ron couldn't believe his ears. What the hell? They were supposed to take care of Voldemort's troops and now Harry was throwing away his life for what? For revenge? "Are you insane?" he asked, his voice drowned by the catcalls and whistles.

"There will be no duel," Hermione said, leaning closer to him again. "Think about it, Ron. This isn't more than just another way to make him attack us."

Of course that kind of made sense, but Ron wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?" Well, refusing a challenge would make Voldemort look like a coward, so he had to react somehow, but would he really risk an attack when he could just walk to Harry and... risk everything.

Eyes widening, Ron turned to stare at Harry again and seeing the small moue of displeasure on his lips made him realize that Hermione had been absolutely right.

It was strange to watch things unfold and see behind what was shown on the surface. Ron could tell that Dumbledore and McGonagall weren't surprised by Harry's declaration, and neither was Snape who was still standing right behind Harry, as if offering silent support.

Ron realized Harry had known what would happen the moment they told him about Neville's disappearance. It made him slightly nauseous and he knew that would never be able to use anything as cold bloodedly as this.

McGonagall stepped closer to Harry. "Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Potter?" There was genuine worry behind her quiet, planned words.

"I'm old enough to issue a challenge, and it's the right time for it. Yes, I'm sure." Harry nodded.

"According to the laws about dueling, you have to be an adult to issue a challenge, and the most traditional time for one is when the moon has waned." Hermione whispered into Ron's ear. "It would probably be even better around Halloween, but I'm sure this will work as well."

Ron could only nod at that, remembering the stories great-aunt Tessie had told him when he'd been little. They hadn't exactly been happy fairy tales about baby crups and bunnies.

They had given him nightmares for weeks.

Mrs. Longbottom wasn't looking angry anymore, her expression full of grief. "And will you bring my grandson back to me?" She raised her hand when she saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Even to be buried. I... would like to have him back."

Instead of an enraged old madam, there was only a grieving grandmother left, someone who hadn't been able to bury her son even when he was lost to her, forced to only visit the living shell of him and his wife at St. Mungo's.

It reminded Harry of that awful scene at the cemetery over three years ago, making his ears buzz. He didn't want to bring anyone's body home to be buried, he never wanted to attend another funeral. But he had no choice but to nod, "I will bring him back if that's humanly possible."

She acknowledged that with a nod of her own, clearly unable to say anything else.

Minerva McGonagall took the few steps that separated her from Mrs. Longbottom, and this time the elderly woman allowed her to lead her away, accepting the soft words without a scathing comment.

One of the older Ministry officials, one of the few who had survived Fudge's last attempt for glory, approached Harry. "Mr. Potter!"

"Yes?" Steeling himself for whatever the man had to say, Harry quirked an eyebrow.

The man gushed about his bravery for a moment, getting both approving nods and exasperated looks from the people standing nearby. Then he got to the point, explaining the intricacies of a formal challenge, relishing the details and droning on and on about it.

Harry listened, nodding politely every time the man looked at him.

He agreed to go to the Ministry for the paperwork, even though all the witnesses here were enough to make it formal already. He also agreed to make the challenge public, knowing that there would undoubtedly be yet another special edition of the Prophet later on today, describing this very moment to everyone.

The official made a few notes on a parchment and then insisted on shaking Harry's hand. "This is indeed a glorious day, Mr. Potter! People in our world will tell your story forever."

Harry waited until the man was gone to let out a laugh that was so sharp it could cut anyone standing close enough. "Yeah. The great story of Harry Potter." He didn't even see the way Ron and Hermione cringed at that. "None of the great tales have a happy ending, now do they?"

How the hell could anyone suggest his actions were heroic now that they were on a fast track towards death and destruction, and one of his oldest friends had just disappeared? It was so wrong he didn't have words to describe the wrongness.

He didn't want to be remembered, to become another Godric Gryffindor. It would suit him perfectly if no one even remembered his name in ten years. Maybe becoming a legend was someone's dream, but it definitely wasn't his. All he wanted was to live in peace.

Needing to get away from this, Harry retreated to the corner with his broom, going through the motions of clearing the twigs even though they weren't even ruffled. The others from his team joined him soon after, followed by Ron, Hermione and Blaise who were talking quietly about something Hermione had read.

Harry listened to the others half heartedly, smiling just a little as he heard some of his old team mates ribbing Malfoy. It sounded nice, like something they might have said to any other player back when it was all about Quidditch, and Malfoy's response was equally light.

Some of the banter sounded forced at first, but they were soon enough bickering with gusto.

It was easier to concentrate on this as if it was nothing more than a preparation for a game. Whatever idiocies of fame and fortune others might sprout sounded as inviting as the horrible slavery Voldemort handed out as a prize to those foolish enough to follow him.

Maybe a gilded cage, but it still had bars that would hold you prisoner.

He sighed. Wishing people wouldn't focus on him was rather stupid considering he had just made the announcement they had probably all waited for.

"You okay?" Sliding into the empty chair next to Harry's, Ron nudged him.

Harry just stared at him.

"Oh. Yeah, stupid question." Ron shrugged. "Sorry. I just mean... I know what you're doing and being a friend here, you know?"

"It's okay. And thanks." Not that it changed anything, but Harry was still glad Ron was trying. He had to be just as upset with the thing with Neville as he was.

"So... Now we have a plan." It wasn't a question. "Like a plan that actually works?"

"Yeah."

"Mm hmm." Ron nodded, trying to look like he actually knew what was going on.

Harry looked into the distance as if he was trying to see something that was beyond his grasp. "One day, people far smarter than I will look back and analyse our actions here. They'll probably see exactly what we did wrong and what should have been done instead. But..." He shrugged, gaze focusing on Ron again. "Right now, I can't think of anything I could have really done better."

"Yeah." There was nothing Ron could really say to that.

"I mean, challenging Voldemort years ago would have got one of us dead, most likely me, but Dumbledore was right. It's not enough to get rid of him anymore. If I die..."

Ron flinched, hand moving to his wand. "Don't say that!" The mere thought was making his skin tingle unpleasantly.

"It's a possibility, Ron," Harry said. "Whatever happens to me, you'll all still fight to defeat the Death Eaters. It's not about him and me, it's about us and them."

It sounded unlikely to Ron. Surely their world would collapse if Harry... was lost now. He tried to imagine his father leading the troops with Dumbledore by his side, and to his astonishment it didn't seem as ridiculous as he'd thought.

Maybe they had all been changed by this.

"You don't think Voldemort will accept your challenge? Like... there will be no duel." Ron didn't know enough about the Dark Lord to make a guess either way, but somehow it didn't seem like he would abandon his plans and meet Harry alone somewhere.

Harry cocked his head, as if weighing whether to tell the whole truth or not. "No, I don't think he'll accept this challenge or come alone. I don't think he'll wait until I make it really official." He paused for a moment, the cold hard look creeping back into his eyes. "But I don't know if this war can ever really end without some kind of a confontation between the two of us." The smile on his lips wasn't amused. "That's what everyone wants, right? The great hero and the great villain meeting alone."

As always, Ron shivered at Harry saying things like that about himself, but he couldn't really say he was wrong. "And you think this will work?" He asked. "I mean, I get the whole thing with us picking a fight and the challenge at the waning moon and all that crap, but... How can we be sure they'll really come?"

Casting a brief look at professor Trelawney who was sipping her tea on the other side of the room, Harry wondered if they should indeed have Snape brew a potion that would make her actually prove she could handle real Divinations. It was morally ambiguous, but extremely tempting.

"It will work. The Death Eaters will come."

Harry jumped, and then turned to look at Blaise who was smiling slightly, his blind eyes focused on nothing at all. "Are you sure?" He could remember the Slytherin's weird behavior from weeks back, but was still reluctant to believe he had the Sight.

"Yes." Blaise nodded, his unseeing gaze suddenly on Harry. "The Death Eaters will come."

The certainty in his voice was so compelling that Harry knew without doubts that their long wait was finally over.

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