Part Six: Ascendancy by Ladyholder

Reading Time:
12 Minutes

Art By Polaris

“My mother has been placed in her safehouse,” Draco reported as he walked into the suite they had been given.

“I know she said she’s okay with this, but was she really?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, she’s upset at the need, but accepting the necessity,” Draco said. He sounded tired, and Harry waffled slightly before holding a hand out to him. When Draco took it, Harry pulled him close and hugged him. “It’s so weird that we can do this. Thank you,” Draco mumbled as he tucked his face into his neck.

“It is,” Harry agreed before he took a chance and pressed a kiss to Draco’s hair. “I never would have thought we’d be doing this after I met you, let alone our first two years at Hogwarts.”

Hermione stepped up and wrapped her arms around them both. “We can’t protect her directly, but we can certainly try to get through this damn war as fast as we can. Because I want to get to know her.”

“She’ll want to get to know you as well,” Draco allowed. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands into fists at Harry’s waist. “I hate this. This whole war thing. I hate that the adults in our lives didn’t do everything needed, so this was over when we were babies. Children should not need to fight in wars.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Draco,” Harry murmured. He looked at Hermione and saw that she was nodding along with him. “A lot of people dropped the ball on this, and we’re left to clean up their messes. So, it’s going to be done, but it’s going to be done on my terms.”

“If Dumbledore were alive, he’d try to get you to forgive them and let them repent,” Hermione said, voice as neutral as he’d ever heard her be. “Why won’t you do that?”

“Because some crimes you can’t forgive,” Harry said simply. “The Death Eaters have, for the most part, murdered their way through this country for decades. They have terrorized it, harassed it, destroyed it, and did their best to keep it firmly in the past. I’m going to clean this country up if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Dying is not on the list of things you’re authorized to do, Harry Potter,” Hermione snapped. She turned to look at Draco and raised an eyebrow at him. “You either, Draco. I’m not going to run this country by myself if you two die.”

“Fair,” Draco said with a small sniff. He leaned back slightly so he could look them both in the eye. “I know Lucius isn’t likely to survive this war. I made my peace with that a while ago, since he is a Death Eater and has never made any bones about that. I know I’m going to have to kill people. It’s going to suck, but we can’t leave enemies behind us.”

“We can’t, and it does suck. Deeply and horribly,” Harry confirmed. “You’re never, ever prepared for the first time you kill someone, and I don’t know how to make it so you are. All you can do is make sure that you don’t stoop to our enemies’ level, that it’s as clean as you can make it, and no one suffers.”

From the grimaces on Hermione’s and Draco’s faces, they weren’t thrilled with him, but what else could he say? He’d killed the first time at eleven years old, and his kill had been none of those things. He’d made a promise to himself that he’d never go through something like that again.

“We’re not using any of the Unforgiveables, right?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head once. “No. There are thousands of charms and jinxes out there that will do just as well.”

“You started reading spell books in fourth and fifth year,” Hermione said suddenly. “What did you find?”

“I found a lot. They’re listed in a notebook back at the tent,” Harry said with a frown. “Do you know if there’s a way that we can carry everything we own without having to carry an obvious bag or something? Because leaving our stuff in one location when we have a mission is bugging me.”

“The dverger have dimensional bracelets and cuffs that are used as storage devices. The magic is rune-based, and each one can hold an untold amount of stuff,” Draco said after several seconds of thought. “They are expensive, though. Like my father wanted one for years, but couldn’t afford one easily. It would have been a year’s worth of income from the Malfoy Estate to purchase one.”

“That’s…,” Harry paused, boggled. “Holy hell, that’s expensive.”

“Yeah,” Draco said with a shrug. “But you’ve got the lordship for three different families, and the crown, so you might want to check to see if there are any hiding in the junk from the previous generations.”

“Could we use them?” Hermione asked. “And if they have stuff in them from the previous owners, how would we know?”

“No idea, and no idea,” Draco admitted. He shrugged once. “But I’m sure we can find out.”

“I know that Ragnok directed that an inventory be done of the contents of all of the Black vaults,” Harry said. “I have no idea if there’s one for the Potter or Gryffindor vaults. Arthur, do you know if there’s one for the Pendragon vaults?”

“When I died, there was mostly money in there, kid. And I don’t remember getting a bracelet like that. It would have been helpful to the extreme,” Arthur said. He sounded distracted, and Harry had to wonder what had grabbed the sword’s attention.

“Right. Something else to add to the list of things we’re asking the dverger about,” Hermione concluded. “Does anyone want to share how things went with the healers?”

“You first, since I’m sure you’re the least fucked up of the three of us,” Harry suggested.

From the huff Hermione gave, she wanted to argue with him over that, but couldn’t. “I’m mildly malnourished since we’ve spent the last few months on the run. I have a few minor scrapes and such from running around the woods, and those were easily healed. The major thing I had was that I was given a potion designed to make me tolerate Ron.”

The rush of anger that rushed through him startled Harry, and he had to clamp down on his magic before it tried to find a way to fry Ron Weasley long-distance. If he was going to hex the little bastard, he was going to do that in person.

“How do you know that? Were the dverger able to tell from the residue of the potion?” Draco asked.

“Nope,” Hermione said with a sort of cheerful menace. “I got a very nice flushing draught that tasted like nothing, and when I finished being utterly miserable, I was directed to think about everyone in my life. I can’t stand Ron. Or Ginny. Molly’s mostly okay, Percy’s a berk, and the rest of the family is fine.”

“Are they the only ones you have any ill feelings towards?” Harry asked carefully.

“Oh, everyone else I want to murder, I wanted to murder before I got the draught,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Right,” Harry said. He wasn’t going to ask. She might be one of his soulmates, but he wasn’t going to even try to control her. It would not work out well for him.

“So that’s my news. What about you two?” Hermione asked.

“Harry was as gentle as possible when he pulled the Mark off me and out of my magic, but I still have some aftereffects from the whole process. There’s a small fracture in my core, but I’ve been told that it will heal quickly. I was hit with several different hexes while in the Dark Lords’ presence, and then while I was at school, but I wasn’t hit with anything that would leave lasting damage.”

“Anything else?” Harry asked. He didn’t think that Draco had gotten off that lightly, and he was worried about what he might be hiding.

“There were traces of a behavioral modification spell on me. They traced it to the fracture in my core, so it had to have been embedded in the Mark. With it gone, so was the modification,” Draco said slowly. “It was keyed to make me more accepting of the Dark Lord.”

“Gross,” Hermione muttered. “He looks like a nightmare.”

“Oh, he is,” Draco agreed. He shuddered in Harry’s arms, and he tugged him into a slightly deeper hold. “He’s cold, like he can’t generate body heat. And he smells musty, sour, and rank with a faint edge of rot. I never saw him eat, but he did drink.”

“Super gross,” Hermione said before pressing forward again. “Right, that takes care of us. What did your exam show, Harry?”

Harry grimaced before he could help himself. He’d had a hunch that things were bad, but everything had been worse than he’d suspected. “It’s not great.”

“How not great are we talking?” Hermione asked. She leaned back slightly to look Harry in the eye. “Harry?”

“If Pomphrey hadn’t been giving me nutrient potions and the like since I got into school, I’d likely be dead from the stress my magic puts on my body. Heart attack or stroke,” Harry admitted. From the hisses his soulmates let out, neither was thrilled with that news. “Before they do the ritual to take the damn Horcrux out of my head, they’re going to need to do a ritual to heal me. I have major bones with microfractures, my internal organs are all affected by the starvation I suffered as a small child, and I should be taller. And that’s just the major stuff. There’s a host of minor issues that the healing ritual will also take care of.”

“I hate your aunt and uncle,” Draco said after several seconds. “What in the actual fuck happened to you?”

“My aunt and uncle loathe me to an untold degree, and they took that ill feeling out on me every chance they got,” Harry said before looking at Hermione. “You can’t send them cursed letters, you can’t hex them, and you can’t light them on fire.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of my life, Harry,” Hermione complained.

“That was very specific,” Draco said slowly. “Why can’t she do those things?”

“I’ve done all of those things at various times,” Hermione admitted. When Draco twisted in Harry’s arms to stare at her, she smirked. “I’m not nearly as rule-abiding as I pretend.”

“No shit,” Draco breathed. “I support your efforts on this, though.”

“Thanks. Now. Harry. Why can’t I curse, hex, or light them on fire?” Hermione asked.

“Master Bonesetter’s called dibs for now,” Harry said with a shrug. “After she completed my exam, made sure I had all the potions I needed right then, she apparated out.”

“Do you think Ragnok knows?” Hermione asked.

“I sure hope so,” Harry said.

“Me too,” Draco said. “Now what?”

“Well, Hermione needs to pull out her carpet bag so I can grab the Horcruxes and turn them over to Ragnok so they can be on hand to destroy when the dverger pull the one in my head out,” Harry said. “They did find Hufflepuff’s Cup in Bellatrix’s vault, so we’ve got four here, we’ve destroyed one, I think there’s one at Hogwarts, and he still has control of one.”

“Are you sure that he’s made the snake a Horcrux?” Draco asked. “I’ve seen his snake. It’s huge. And willing to kill anyone he wants dead.”

“I saw him make the snake another Horcrux,” Harry said. “He killed a witch named Bertha Jorkins when he made the snake the Horcrux. It was horrible to watch it.”

“How?” Draco asked. “How do you know this?”

“The Horcrux in my head ties me to Voldemort, and occasionally I dream of what that bastard does,” Harry said. He huffed slightly as Draco growled. “Not my idea, Draco.”

“We need to get that thing out of your head. It can’t be healthy to have that tie,” Draco said huffily.

Hermione gave them both a final squeeze before she stepped back. “Let’s go turn over those horrors to Ragnok and then get you started on some healing. Once that’s started, we can look into pulling our allies in so we can start assigning them tasks.”

“Fine,” Harry said. He squeezed Draco one final time and let him go. “Have you got the carpet bag?”

“Yup,” Hermione said with a smirk. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a miniaturized bag. A quick tap of her wand returned the bag to its full size. “I’m not going to pull them out here.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully. He waved one hand towards the door. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” Draco said as he walked to the door and pulled it open. “Sir.”

Ragnok had his hand raised as if he was just about to knock on the door that Draco had moved out from under his fist. He smiled as he stared into the room. “Draco, Harry, Hermione.”

“Sir,” Hermione said as she shook the carpet bag. “I have the Horcruxes here. Do you want them now? Or what?”

“Let’s go to the ritual room. We’ve got a spelled box ready to accept them,” Ragnok said with a sharp grin.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said. He took the carpet bag from Hermione, and his magic shuddered as he felt the Horcruxes react to his presence. “They are not happy to be in the moleskin bag.”

“I warded it as thoroughly as I could,” Hermione reminded him. “But they’ve been getting more active as the weeks have passed since they were placed in there. And my classes only taught me so much.”

Ragnok flashed her a sharp look. “How active, lass?”

“They’ve been trying to get me to take them out of their bag,” Hermione said in a rush. “I haven’t, but they’ve been pushing.”

“Fucking hell,” Harry breathed. “Hermione, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You carry one in your head, Harry. I didn’t want to burden you with more than you can carry,” Hermione said. “I tried to be your Sam.”

“I am not going to be Frodo and keep the damn thing, Hermione,” Harry said with a small smile. He snapped a glance at the bag as the Horcruxes called out to his magic and the one in his head warmed up. “Can we hurry?”

“Right,” Ragnok agreed. He waved a hand at one of the guards escorting them around, and they peeled off to head down another branching hallway. “They’ll bring Razel so he can ward the spell box further if needed.”

“Good idea,” Harry said as the Horcruxes surged against his magic. His wandless magic was hit or miss, but the one thing he could do reliably was shield. He paused briefly and wove as dense a shield around the moleskin bag within the carpet bag as he could. The call of the nasty little things lessened, and he started walking faster towards the ritual room.

“What did you just do?” Ragnok asked as he escorted them into the ritual room.

“Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri, and Repello Inimicum. Only cast wandlessly and in Parseltongue,” Harry said shortly. “With the intent to keep the effects of the evil little things inside the moleskin bag.”

“Good choice on how to build the shield,” Razel called as he entered the room from another door. He had a box in his hands, and it was glowing with closely written runes. “This is a few times more robust than a standard casting of that combination.”

“Then that might be enough,” Harry said. Now that they were in the room, he felt safe enough to pull the moleskin bag out of the carpet bag. It was glowing green. “Okay, I did not see that coming.”

“Me either, lad,” Ragnok said as he stared at the bag. “Drop it in the box now.”

“Right,” Harry said. He held his hand over the open box and carefully tilted it so it fell in. As soon as it passed the rim, Razel snapped the lid into place and latched it closed. Harry sagged as the draw on his magic lessened. He glanced at Hermione and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

The glare she was gracing him with didn’t change, and she raised one eyebrow back at him. “Not Frodo then, but more like Bilbo?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry groaned. “Maybe?”

“He’s going to need a thorough magical cleansing before anything else can be done,” Draco suggested. He glanced at Hermione and waved at her. “She needs it too. They’ve been carrying the damn things for months.”

“Yeah, we’ll get that done,” Ragnok said. “Now.”