HERE WE GO AGAIN

Chapter 19- The Summertime Ball- II

He walked out of the ballroom without a word, aware that the other three were following. He was seething. He didn’t expect the boy to mock him. Mock Lord Voldemort. He had an inkling about his decision. How could he not? These Potters are the same. Sentimental goody shoes. The fact that the young man dared mock him and his idea and threatened him on top of it was a bitter pill to swallow. He left that place because they were the Potters and the Blacks. He was aware of the danger of going against them.

How the boy knew his real name, he never knew. That was the reason why he left without making an argument. He had done his utmost to hide his name from the Wizarding Society—his muggle name. He finally understood why the others became apprehensive about the Potters and Blacks. He never knew how he came by this information but must see that it will remain hidden.

“How close are the Potters and Dumbledore?” Lestrange laughed mockingly. “The Potters and Dumbledore have no connection at all, my lord. You have a wrong notion about the stands of that family.” He explained.

“What that boy spoke is the actual meaning of what we were supposed to hear. There is no hide-and-seek in his words. They have always been straightforward people and politicians. I had been in the room when Charlus Potter ascended his Lordship, and his words were the same as we heard today. Neutral. Potters might be tolerant towards the muggle ways, but they are notoriously neutral regarding factions. They live as they please. They tend to avoid messy scenarios, but there is no going back once involved. They are bad enemies to make, my lord.”

“We were never getting their support, my lord. It was always supposed to be a waste of time.” Lestrange finished. “Charlus Potter is not a man that should be taken lightly, my lord. He is a very dangerous man.” The Dark Lord scoffed. “You will find it hard to believe, my lord, but there is no false bravado when it comes to him. Ask Gellert Grindelwald. You will understand what the man was capable of.” Lestrange pointed out.

“Randolph is right, my lord,” Nott muttered. “We all had family in the war, who were fighting under the leadership of Charlus Potter, and as soon as the war was over, we were warned never to mess with him. The British forces that served under him still consider the man as a God amongst men.”

Lord Voldemort frowned. This was precisely the man he required. The man had influence and power in spades. One such man was more than enough to win any battle. He didn’t feel right having such a powerful enemy. Add Dumbledore to the mix, and things will become complicated to proceed. He didn’t want Dumbledore on his back. That man on his back will turn things for the worse. He is a person who can be highly annoying, and despite his abilities, he will be apprehensive of the man.

People like Charlus Potter should be dealt with quickly, but he didn’t think it would be easy for a second. Hearing about the man’s prowess from the others told him he should be cautious. Maybe that was how the younger Potter had identified him. Probably the former Lord Potter’s connections.

“Well, this only helps in what I want to do next.” The three men frowned questioningly. The man didn’t bother with a response choosing to walk away from the place. They continued for a while, and the Dark Lord hummed as they reached a certain distance away from the manor.

He drew his wand and turned away from the manor. He took three steps forward and began muttering something inaudible. He was given space to do whatever he was doing. The three men didn’t disrupt him as he didn’t stop chanting under his breath for a very long time.

“A gift for Lord Potter and family.” He chuckled as he stepped back, lowering his wand. “This will be interesting.” He faced the men waiting patiently to know what this was all about. “Ah, yes. I guess you are curious to know what that was all about?”

“Like I said, a special gift. Something that will make sure that they remember me for eternity.”

As he finished talking, a chill travelled down their spines. The temperature dropped considerably, and a sense of foreboding settled in the depths of their stomach.

“Go,” Tom ordered. “ Dark-cloaked beings glided past the grinning man out of nowhere. The three men watched in dread when the Dementors, that were nowhere to be seen until a while ago began to race towards the manor they just had left behind.

“I guess they won’t be a problem anymore, will they?” The three men watched as the never-ending stream of Dementors seemed to be gliding out from nowhere. They swallowed hard as they turned back to face the man waiting for a response.

“Yes, my Lord.” Randolph swallowed hard.

“Complex problems must be dealt with as soon as possible, Randolph. The longer we take dealing with them; they will come back to spoil our plans shortly. Always remember that complex problems need immediate solutions. It might be a simple solution, or…” His grin turned into a full-blown smirk. “A complex solution.” He said, nodding towards the Dementors.

BREAK

Harry had kept an eye on the select number of people supposed to pose a problem. They left one by one. They neither said a word to him nor seemed suspicious enough to pull something today. The wards of the Manor will make sure that they cannot be harmed inside. Anybody intending to harm the family will die before they can complete the thought.

He sighed in relief as the last of the potential problem makers stepped out. The wards of the Manor could not be fooled. For now, there was nothing to worry about.

Harry had not expected the presence of the man. He was convinced that if there were any trouble today, it would be from one of his men present here, but he was thrown off balance when he showed up. He failed to believe that he was here just to talk and nothing more. He will not take insults to his face kindly.

“Tense?” Harry faced Charlus as he sat down next to him. There were still a dozen families in the room who had yet to leave, and Harry was sure that these families would be manageable.

“He was here,” Harry muttered. Charlus stared in surprise. “What?” He questioned, his eyes looking around frantically.

“He left,” Harry reassured the man. “He was here with Lestrange, Nott and Travers. He left with them, but not before talking to me.” Harry explained. “Remember the letter he had written asking for my audience? Well, he made sure that he got one.”

“From what little I know of him, he was not here just for a talk. We should be careful, son.” Harry agreed. “I have been keeping an eye on the families that were firmly under his control, and all of them have left, barring the Rosiers.” He nodded towards Narcissa, who was conversing with her maternal grandmother, her uncle and her Grandfather not far away.

“I don’t get that, man,” Harry muttered, looking at Evan Rosier. “He was a Death Eater from where I come from. I do not doubt that. But he looks…” Harry found it difficult to describe the man. He loved his family a lot. His fondness when he looked at his sister and her daughters was palpable.

“Evan? Evan is trustworthy, Harry. For some reason, I like that man very much, and I would like to think that I am a decent judge of character.”

“I won’t be taking a risk, Dad. This entire mess from my world began because my father underestimated somebody he trusted with his life. I want no loose ends. I will not have him razing my family to the ground once again.” Harry replied fiercely.

“He might be close to the Blacks, but I will watch him. I hope to god that he does not cause a problem. He will be very sorry when I am done with him.”

“I understand.” Charlus nodded. He did. Harry was paranoid for a good reason, and telling him to do otherwise was not his place. He would have been the same had he been in his position.

“He would have had no intention of harming us today.” Charlus continued. “The wards would have killed him or any of his men if they had any intention of causing danger to us. So, he did come here only to talk, by the looks of it.”

Harry shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. He is extremely prideful, and he is already baying for my blood. We might see some form of retaliation from the man now.”

“You know what? I would be pleased if nothing did happen today.” Harry sighed. “As quickly as I would like to kill him, I would rather our fight remain away from them.” He nodded towards the rest of the family.

“The moment these last people step out, I hit the bed until the next morning. Events like this tend to put me into a depression.” He tried to make sure that his mother did not hear him.

“Just a few more minutes, son. It will be over, and we can move on.”

“Harry….” Bellatrix came running towards him; her face contorted in fear. He clutched his hand tightly as she looked around frantically. “I can feel it again.” She panicked. “Something bad. Something sad.” She shuddered close to the boy.

Harry made to speak when he felt his spine tingle. A sense of foreboding filled his nerves, and Harry’s experience with the danger came to the forefront. He shot up, his hands holding those of Bellatrix tightly.

“Dementors.” He muttered, the cold becoming prominent as the Dementors seemed to be nearing. “Dementors.” He said loud enough for Charlus to hear.

“Impossible!” Charlus exclaimed, his voice garnering attention from the rest of the room.

“What happened?” Arcturus questioned, rushing to the two men. “What is impossible?”

“Dementors.” Harry and Charlus intoned together. “Dementors?” Arcturus questioned but stopped short when the cold began permeating the surroundings. Arcturus’s eyes widened considerably as he put two and two together.

“How?” Harry interrupted the man. “Now is not the time for it, Arcturus. We have a job to do.” He turned to look at Bellatrix, who was shaking in discomfort. He could see that she was having a difficult time for some reason, not just because of the dementors.

“Bella?” When she opened her eyes, Harry was kneeling in front of her. “You will return to your sisters and remain away from the manor's front door. Stay inside the manor, and don’t step out at any cost. Do you understand?” The young girl nodded hesitantly.

Harry stood up and gestured for the rest of the family to join them. “Dementors.” Dorea was the first to speak as she recognised the signs of what was happening. “There are Dementors around our home?” She began to panic, an emotion the rest of the family shared.

“Dementors don’t have emotions. They can’t think of harming anybody. The harm that befalls us is nothing but food for them. The wards won’t recognise any human emotions from the Dementors. They are dead and alive at the same time. They can enter the wards with difficulty, but once in, they will not be any restrictions apart from us.” Charlus muttered worriedly.

Harry rushed out of the room, his heart hammering against his chest. The cold was becoming more and more prominent with every second. He stepped out of the manor, and the cold increased tenfold. His eyes widened in alarm. The first time he cast a patronus, there were a lot of Dementors—hundreds of them. But today, there were so many more than he could comprehend. He had no idea that these many Dementors were guarding Azkaban.

He remembered that the Dementors had sided with Tom in the first war. They shifted sides immediately, and nobody had learnt how. Even Dumbledore had no idea how the Dementors sided with the man.

Harry stood on top of the stairs and watched the Dementors swarm into the perimeter of the Manor. He slid his wand into his hand and closed his eyes briefly. When he felt the cold increase, his wand moved into action.

“Expecto Patronum!” The soul-chilling scream of Harry pierced through the silent night, a jet of silver beam shooting through his wand, whizzing through the dark and slamming into the horde of Dementors scattering slowly.

Shrieks of agony permeated the night as the Dementors were pushed back a little. Harry pushed ahead, his wand arm shaking as he pushed all his magic out of his wand. The beam grew stronger and stronger as more and more magic was forced into his patronus.

The white beam slowly took the form of the familiar stag, his patronus. The brilliant ethereal stag pranced around, pushing the Dementors back as much as possible.

Harry prided himself on the power of his patronus. He had heard the same from his professors when they witnessed his ability. For some reason, his ability to cast a patronus came more easily to him than many other spells. He could cast a patronus without hesitation, as quickly as a Lumos.

But as much as his patronus was powerful, they also had limitations. There is no way that his patronus can hold on for such long against so many dementors. He can keep them at bay, but that is all he can do. There is minimal possibility of him holding out for too long.

He felt his hand quiver, and fatigue set in from the over-exertion his body was forced into. He didn’t know how long he was supposed to hold on. He was unsure of any solution other than a patronus to drive away these Dementors, but how was he supposed to drive away so many of them with only a patronus?

He heard a noise next to him, and Harry observed two more ethereal beams shoot out towards his battling stag, one coalescing into a grim and another into an eagle. Harry didn’t know who that patronus belonged to but was in no hurry to find out. From the looks of it, they began to help him out, joining forces with his stag and pushing the Dementors away. Harry felt his burden lower slightly with adding the two new patronus.

“Time to find a solution, Potter.” Harry heard Arcturus shout above the wail of the Dementors. “There are too many, and we cannot hold our patronus long. Magical exhaustion. We should devise a more effective solution if we hope to survive.” Charlus explained back.

Harry knew that this could not go on for long. He racked his brain, trying to come up with a solution. No other form of opposition to a dementor was as effective as a patronus.

“I do know a way out,” Charlus said, looking up at the swarm of Dementors, his spell not wavering for a second. “I did read somewhere that the cursed flames might be a form of solution against the Dementors, but I am not sure. There has been no evidence of them working against the Dementors. It is a considerable risk that we should weigh carefully, but there is no time to waste.”

“We need all the three of us to work together for this one, Charlus,” Arcturus replied at the top of his voice. “This might be our only chance to stop them.”

“We will do it then.” Harry broke in. “I don’t care what the consequences are. Their safety is all that matters to me.”

“It is not that simple, Harry. Cursed flames are difficult to cast and doubly so to control and triple the harder to extinguish them.” Arcturus shot back.

“You underestimate me too much, Arcturus.” Harry chuckled, not knowing if the two heard him or not. “One the count of three, we go together.” He instructed. He glanced at the two men next to him and received nods of agreement.

“Ready?” Shouts of agreement followed his question. “One…..Two….” He took a deep breath, his fingers shaking slightly. “Three!” He roared, and the three men cancelled their patronus and, in flow, raised their wands upwards and intoned together.

“Fiendfyre!” Nothing happened for a few seconds. Everything went quiet for a few seconds, followed by a loud boom as three jets of crimson were spat from their wands.

The crimson jets grew more prominent as they neared the dementors. The moment the three jets of fire were a few inches away from the horde of dementors, they fused into a single ball of flame that struck the Dementors.

Pained wails, different from the usual ones that the Dementors make when in the presence of the patronus, rang through the night. Harry was taken aback by revulsion as the noise grew louder. The Dementors caused cold. They will make you relive your worst moments, ultimately filling despair into your life and taking away your soul, part by part. Never had he heard about or read about this feeling from the dementors. Revulsion. His stomach began to churn, and he felt nausea overtake his senses.

He fought to keep his concentration on the job at hand. He was required to keep his composure for the sake of his family. With renewed resolve, Harry fought the feeling. He kept his eye on the happenings in the night sky, and this time; he observed the flames. A giant snakehead seemed to be consuming the dark-cloaked beings wailing on top of their voices. Each time the fire spread, his revulsion grew more and more prominent.

He knew it had been a couple of minutes at the most, but he felt like a lifetime had passed. He didn’t know what was happening up there and what would be the extent of their composure, but when he looked closely, he observed the jet of the beam from the older men begin to thin considerably.

“No….no….” He whispered, alarmed by the magnitude of the impending danger of the situation. The cursed flames were considered dangerous for a reason. Not just their ability to bring forth mass destruction but their ability to grow in power and ferocity if lost control by the wizard.

The entire manor would be erased within seconds if they lost control of the flames after they had become stronger, and that was the least of the damages. The weakest of the cursed flames can cause havoc, and Harry could not begin to imagine what this one would do if it got free.

“No….Dad… Arcturus.” He glanced at the two men, and his heart sank as the beam flickered out from their wands. Harry’s head eyes snapped back up, and he did the one thing he had thought of. With a roar, he pushed all his energy into his wand.

BREAK

“Ha….Patronus? Fools.” Tom grinned as he and the other men who had joined him after the event looked on. The dementors will not be stopped. Certainly not by patronus of all things. He had to marvel that the boy could cast a patronus at all. Fully grown wizards are incapable of such a feat.

“What will they do, drive them away?” He questioned rhetorically.

There was no way a patronus would out against the sheer number of Dementors he had deployed. His magic had taken a significant snag, the beginning of fatigue setting on. The spell was demanding, and he understood why the script had been extremely cautious of any usage of said spell. The sheer magical exhaustion would have been a factor in driving away any other wizard from employing this spell if they found it in the first place, but that was not the case for him. He discovered his thrills because he could cast spells many would have never heard about. Any advantage he had in magic was justified. One cannot do things he had envisioned, casting Hogwarts curriculum all their life.

A few moments later, the silver beings disappeared, and he smirked. “Is that all?” He muttered to himself, but he was surprised when three beams of crimson jets struck the horde of dementors. When the beam of crimson assumed the shape of a serpent, he narrowed his eyes.

“Good.” He didn’t know how long those men could hold on, but it won’t be long. The cursed flames were the most dangerous of spells for the right reason. He had expected such, and when the fire consumed the Dementors, he shook his head. That was foolish. The idea was good, but a few times, good ideas don’t tend to give the rightful results. Were they feeding energy to a fire-hungry monster? Fools.

He didn’t know what happened inside, but he observed the flames flicker after a few moments.

“They are done for.” He chuckled as he expected the flames to lose control any moment now.

‘The Potters and Blacks are out of the equation’, he thought as he turned away when the flickering serpent lit up the sky again. He turned back and took a few steps back, genuinely surprised by what he had witnessed.

The crimson serpent hissed into the cold night and gradually increased in brightness. The light was blindingly white that he had to look away from the scene. He could feel the heat on his skin. The next moment everything went quiet, and before he could get a word out, a loud boom threw him backwards a few feet along with his men. All he could see was white and nothing else as he tried to find out what happened.

He shut his eyes and waited on the ground for the scorching heat to die down. The moment he left, the heat decreased slightly, and he opened his eyes, searching for what happened. The manor was standing. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes before looking back again, and yes, the manor was still standing.

“How?” He whispered, shaken by what he had witnessed. He had no idea what had happened, but something told him that nothing had gone according to plan.

“Disperse.” He ordered as he stood up, knowing that the ministry would be here any moment now. He waited as several pops were heard, and he followed suit, shooting one last glance at the Potter family home.

TBC…….