A/N – Here we go. The climactic chapter, the great action-packed showdown, never mind that I absolutely hate writing action sequences. They seem to gain a life of their own.
I have also noticed a major plot inconsistency: in the flashback in the last chapter, Draco uses the Killing Curse to kill his father, but in Ch 10, I’ve stated that he slit Lucius’ throat. Because I’m very fond of the flashback sequence, I’ll go back and alter chapter 10.
Disclaimer – I don’t own Harry Potter or any of the canon characters and concepts. Don’t sue; I swear I’ll give ‘em back.
Chapter 14 - Madness
The Aurors moved in.
Draco had a last moment to regret his hasty comment about Carlisle’s sister – he’d known it would bite hard – before he closed the shutters, shielded them, and threw himself, clattering, down the stairs. Higgins met him on the ground floor, looking more and more like the grizzled old veteran he truly was, rather than the kindly old grandfather he appeared to be.
“Now you’ve done it,” the old man said in some satisfaction. “There must be at least fifty of them out there – a good number of them black-clads.”
“Yes,” Draco answered dryly, “I do know what the ASUs are capable of. I used to lead them, once.”
“And we’ll need every bit of your expertise,” said Kelly, coming down the stairs with Longbottom, and moving to check the windows once more. The attack would come through the doors and windows, first, and they would retreat upstairs when the Aurors broke through their defenses.
Behind them came Ginny, her hair caught back and strictly braided, as it was when she went into action. She was every bit as beautiful now, at thirty-four, as she had been ten years ago at twenty-four, and despite himself Draco felt a rush of the old, primal attraction. It was dangerous, he knew, but he welcomed it as he had always done in the old days.
Just as poets had muses, so too did Aurors have motives for killing, and reasons to come back alive. Ginny had always been his inspiration – every time he fought, he had done so determined to survive so that he could come back to her. Despite all the years of mistrust and misunderstandings, nothing had ever changed…
He would still do everything he possibly could to keep her safe.
“Draco,” she said seriously, interrupting his reverie, “did you see who was leading the ASUs out there?”
He turned his attention back to the present. “No. I was only interested in Carlisle – the rest are dangerous, but ultimately only tools.”
“It was Abercrombie.”
Draco took a moment to place the name.
“The more fool he, then, for following Carlisle.” Despite his tone, he was secretly disappointed that the capable, hopelessly honest Abercrombie had ended up doing Carlisle’s bidding. He’d thought better of the man than that.
“Euan Abercrombie?” Kelly asked, interested. “I’ve heard of him. A good man, and a dangerous one. He trained under you, of course, so he would be.”
Draco grunted in less than gracious acknowledgment.
“No, Malfoy,” Longbottom said, an Auror now, and not a frightened, confused victim. “Just before you closed the shutters, I saw him give a signal. It may be that he’s not completely Carlisle’s man…”
“You saved his life, at Oxford,” Ginny reminded him. “He’d remember.”
Draco remembered almost embarrassing gratitude, and a reckless vow of Wizard’s Debt. “And it may be that he’s simply telling his men to get ready. We can’t base our whole strategy on the off chance that he might come over to our side.”
The shuddering impact of an explosive spell on the front door reinforced his point. Higgins, Kelly and Longbottom sprang to their posts, just in time before a barrage of similar curses impacted against the vulnerable points of the old building, and any chance of further discussion was lost.
****
Carlisle watched the progress of the attack with a deep, boundless satisfaction. At last, his sister would have justice – too long had he watched Malfoy enchant and ensorcel wizarding society with his illusions, weaving his web just as his father had, but with far more subtlety. Today he, Jaryd Carlisle, would put an end to Draco Malfoy for good, and if he was truly dealing with Death Eaters, or laundering money, or even holding the misguided, traitorous Ginny Weasley hostage, then so much the better.
He smiled, as he saw a flash of brilliant white light illuminate the whole front of the redbrick Shadowlands, as he felt the deep shuddering of the earth as the spell tried to take effect. There were ancient wards still in force around the house – remnants of the House of Black – and newer, even more powerful ones created by Malfoy himself. It would not be easy to bring this house of sin down, but Carlisle was willing to get his hands dirty, to see that the correct outcome eventually prevailed.
“Sir!” a young cadet called, running up to him, skidding to a halt, and performing a sloppy salute. “Moody wants to see you, sir; he wants to know…er…” he coughed, “he wants to know what the hell you think you’re doing. Sir.”
Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody wanted to know what he thought he was doing. Mad-Eye Moody, who had once stripped a Death Eater prisoner naked and hung him upside down by his ankles, waving a burning torch under his head; who had had an extraordinary number of ‘accidental deaths in custody’ before the prisoners could get to trial, and who had pushed for the Kiss for a young fifteen year old boy.
“Tell him,” he said to the wide-eyed cadet, “that he knows exactly what I’m doing. And tell him that if he hurries, he can be in on it too.”
The boy saluted again, turned on his heel and ran.
“Do you think that’s wise, sir?” asked Fraser, the head of the Auror contingent.
“Wise?” He shook his head. “Not really. But there’s nothing he can do to prevent us anyway.”
There was a huge cracking sound, and one of the windows on the ground floor shattered, glass spraying everywhere. Navy clad Aurors poured in through the gap, only to meet with a barrage of curses from inside. Whatever else anyone said about Draco Malfoy and his motley band of allies and companions, they were excellent fighters.
“Sir!” Another shout, from a squad leader this time. “We’ve made a breach. Alpha squad is going in!”
He nodded in gracious acknowledgment, prepared to watch as the Aurors poured in and overwhelmed the defenders. But just as he smiled, there was another blinding flash of light, and a deep, shocking rumble – but it was no spell of theirs, this time. The flash of curses and spells continued, but this time it was interspersed with screaming, horrifying, thin screaming, and he knew something had gone terribly wrong.
There was a brief, shocked pause, and then four men – only four – struggled out of the billowing smoke and debris, limping, their robes tattered and covered in dust and blood. He went down to them, his heart hammering, and the formerly confident leader of Alpha squad turned to him with white, terrified eyes. “They booby-trapped it,” he said, rivulets of blood running down his dust-covered face. “The floor blew on us…” His voice trailed off, and Carlisle gripped his chin, shaking him –
But he choked, blood welling from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes faded and glazed over, and he slowly went limp in Carlisle’s arms.
The leader of the reserve squad, standing silently behind him, whistled softly and swore under his breath. “Malfoy,” he breathed. “Jesus God, you’re asking us to corner Malfoy, of all men–”
Carlisle whirled and gripped the man’s robes in his fist. “Are you afraid of him, man? You still outnumber him ten to one! Rush them, there’re only five – they can’t possibly have too many tricks of that sort!”
The man hesitated, and he tightened his grip, almost hauling him up off the ground. “I don’t care how you do it, burn the bloody building down around them if you have to, but get them out of there! Do you hear me?”
The dead squad leader’s eyes watched him, questioned him, and accused him.
“Sir,” the man still protested, fainter now, “this is the Diagon Alley shopping precinct; we are limited in our options–”
In the face of Carlisle’s vicious, snarled answer, the Auror lost any further inclination to argue. He only nodded frantically, turning to hasten back to the fight.
Diagon Alley could be rebuilt. They would never get a better chance to bring Malfoy – liar, manipulator, butcher – to the justice he so richly deserved.
*****************
At first, it was easy enough. They had strong wards and shields and the building was relatively easy to defend; in fact, it was a much better situation than she had expected, given some of their past engagements. Ginny still remembered in excruciating detail the time they had hunted a Death Eater kill squad inside a muggle shopping centre on Christmas Eve…
This, on the other hand, was a simple matter of defense and shielding, the only problem being the extremely high number of opponents, and their numbering only five – with, of course, the nebulous chance of help from Abercrombie. Slytherin to the bone, Draco had put his finger on it – they could not afford to rely on long-ago promises made in the heat of the moment. If Abercrombie did support them, then it might bring the moment of surprise that they needed, but if the Scotsman held back then they would not be left hanging.
Draco had become the youngest and most effective commander of the war – despite his name, despite his father’s actions – because he had an uncanny reputation for cold-blooded, ruthless logic in the chaos of battle. He knew what needed to be done, and he did not hesitate to do it – despite the cost, despite the moral and ethical qualms. Ginny, alone of his contemporaries, had known what it had cost him – she’d been able to comfort him, once.
She’d been able to rein him in, once.
This gift for dispassionate analysis and the ultimate knowledge that he was, despite everything, loyal, was why the Ministry had not pressed for the ultimate penalty for his patricide, but had graciously allowed him a dishonourable discharge instead. He was too dangerous to push too far, and too potentially useful to eliminate.
At least he had been, before Carlisle persuaded them he was a threat. It was too late to go back now; matters had progressed too far for diplomacy and compromise.
“They’ve broken through!” called Higgins, retreating, blood running from a cut on his forehead. He was breathing heavily, but his eyes were steady as he watched Draco. “And there are definitely some black-clads in the fighting. I don’t think your boy’s going to come through.”
Draco swore.
There were navy-robed Aurors pressing in through the breach in the windows, now, and Kelly and Neville began to retreat, fighting their way to the stairs to reach herself, Draco and Higgins. They exchanged a barrage of curses and hexes, managing to hold the incoming tide for a while, but there were too many of them – they fell back, and Draco, his eyes cool and flat, activated one of their pre-prepared booby traps.
The floor erupted in a blinding, deafening explosion, and the navy robes disappeared in the smoke and rubble. There was a moment of shocked silence, while the five of them – no longer prepared to stop at anything – began firing into the smoke. Then, as their eyes and ears began to recover, they could hear the sporadic screaming and groaning, and see the red, mangled ruin of what had once been flesh and bone…
It was too late for all of them, now.
************
His eyes narrowed against the smoke, his ears blocked to the piteous groaning and whimpering from the poor fools who’d thought they could take Shadowlands so easily, Euan Abercrombie remembered Oxford.
It had been his first real mission with the ASUs: a routine hunt for the ringleaders of the Death Eater recruiting groups operating at the university. However, things had begun to go very wrong, very quickly, beginning with a firefight in one of the great buildings, witnessed by centuries old architecture and shocked, disbelieving students scrambling to get out of the way. He had been cut off, pinned down behind a carved pillar with enemies on all sides and no way to escape, and Malfoy had sent the rest of the team on to pursue the true prizes –
But had stayed himself, stayed to help him out of a situation that would certainly have led to his death or capture.
“Mad,” he’d said, panting heavily and trying hard not to panic. “You should have gone on, sir.”
Draco Malfoy, the legendary black-clad commander, had looked at him and smiled grimly, eyes hard and constantly watchful. “I need you, Abercrombie. No one else knows how to retrieve the files from the computers.”
Pureblooded, he’d pronounced the strange word carefully, but Abercrombie knew Malfoy had personally picked him out of obscurity for this mission, muggleborn though he was, based on his very secret expertise. Three grinding years in the Ministry’s muggle technology research and development labs had not prepared him for the terrifying whirl of life on the front line – he’d panicked, his very first time facing enemy fire, and now he was pinned down with the very man he’d been trying so hard to impress.
He’d summoned up a mad, horribly stretched grin. “I’ll need to get to the computers first, sir.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Malfoy had said, amused. “Next time, though, you can fight your way through them yourself–”
He’d stood up, then, and launched a devastating flurry of curses, dragging Abercrombie with him from pillar to pillar, cursing at his ineptitude and swearing that he’d make a black-clad out of him if it killed him…
They’d gotten to the computers eventually, and he’d done what he knew best, extracting the relevant information – and then they had battled their way out, and on the way he had killed his first man.
Malfoy had supported him as he’d thrown up, retching piteously, shivering uncontrollably and almost crying from delayed shock and enormous relief. It had been then, in one of the truest moments of revelation in his life, that he’d sworn Wizard’s Debt – he’d not known, at the time, that Malfoy had seen it all so many, many times before.
Nevertheless, despite his commander’s cynicism, he had held his oath sacred. Years had passed since then, the war had ended and Malfoy had been disgraced, but Euan Abercrombie still remembered the day he had left his life as a computer geek behind, and had become an Auror…
“Are you sure about this?” Tonks asked. “He may not understand.”
“I’m sure. He’s ice blooded in battle – he’ll recognize us, and know we’re on his side.”
Ron Weasley, his eyes disbelieving, was still staring at the redbrick nightclub, where so many men were needlessly fighting and dying. “He’s killing them. He deliberately set that trap –” He shook his head. “I never believed it when they said he was mad, that he’d do anything if he was pushed…”
“Carlisle’s lost all sense of rationality, Weasley.”
“But Malfoy’s the one doing the killing.”
He shook his head. “And Carlisle provided the provocation. –I know. But he’s got his Ginny in there with him.”
Weasley’s eyes met his, slid away. “I thought I’d seen the end of the war.”
Abercrombie laughed. “So did we all.” He straightened, looked about him, and gathered his squad of elite veterans – many of whom had served with Malfoy – with a glance. “Well?”
“They’re holding,” said Adams, who had only just managed to escape the trap himself. “They’ll probably last another six hours or so, with Malfoy’s bag of tricks, but there’s no way they’ll be able to kill them all.”
He grunted. “No gaps in the defenses?”
“None at all. As far as it’s possible to hold that place with five defenders, they’ve got every possible option covered.”
That caught Tonks’ attention. “Five?”
“Malfoy himself, Weasley, Longbottom, the old man and the Irishman –”
“There should be six,” she said sharply. “Malfoy had three security chiefs. Where’s the other one?”
There was a sudden silence, broken by another wave of attacking Aurors. This time they came more circumspectly, but were still repelled. “Six hours, you say?” he asked.
“Probably. They can’t hold them off forever.”
“Right.” He turned to the rest of his men. “So? Are you with me?”
There was a general chorus of agreement and support.
*******
Two Aurors padded cautiously up the service corridor to the second floor, eyes constantly searching the shadowed corners for attackers, ears straining for any hint of sound, wands out and ready for anything. They were tense, almost vibrating with tension – the deep, absolute silence was doing more to unnerve them than any number of magical aids. Watching them, his eyes narrowed and predatory, Kelly’s lips stretched into a feral grin.
He cut his eyes to the left, where Longbottom waited, their backs against the wall, waiting for the Aurors to come. Two fingers were held up – two men coming – and then all five fingers spread, one folding down, four, then three, then two, then one, and then none –
They whirled, fired into the corridor, cut the Aurors down, and vanished into the shadows again.
******
Other than the well-guarded, narrow service corridor, there was only one way to reach the second floor; up a sweeping modern staircase, all glass and steel and metal, arching over the floor of the nightclub. Lit with wizard light, crowded with fashionably dressed, partying witches and wizards, it had been worthy of the ‘coolest’ and ‘hippest’ muggle clubs – or so Draco’s architect had informed him. He had certainly paid enough for it, having no real interest in muggle clubs – ‘hip’ or not – himself.
At the moment it was blacked out, as the whole club was blacked out, and it was crowded not with clubbing, paying guests, but with bodies and determined, maddened Aurors. He, Ginny and Higgins had spread out – himself at the head of the stairs, Ginny to the right and Higgins to the left – and were doing their ruthless best to pin them down. But these were men who had forced their way in through the still dangerous wards on the doors and windows, who had fought over every bit of the ground floor and had dragged themselves over the bodies of their dead comrades, and who were not going to be thwarted now, not when they had seen so many die –
Nor did he intend to surrender, not now, and most definitely not to Carlisle.
******
Tonks was the first to see the Aurors skulking about the walls. She tapped Abercrombie on the shoulder, drawing his attention to it; he frowned, and swore under his breath.
“Smoking them out. Damn it all –” he jerked his head at Adams, and four men peeled off to take out the fire squad. But there were more of them, and their job already done – they could see the smoke rising, now, pale grey in the clear midday light. It had yet to take hold, but the attackers inside were gradually falling back, perhaps delaying long enough to convince the defenders that they were being driven back, and to distract them from the danger outside.
******
“Smoke,” Fraser said. “It seems they took your suggestion to heart.”
Carlisle stared grimly at the rising wisps of grey. “Now we’ll see how tricky the bastard is.”
The fire smell rose on the wind, and the air started to shimmer in the heat.
“He’ll have no choice, soon; he’ll have to come out. And that’s when he’ll be at his most dangerous –”
“We’ll send in the ASUs. Front line veterans, ruthless killers…” Carlisle trailed off, frowning. “Where is Abercrombie?”
Fraser’s head whipped around. “You called in Abercrombie for this?”
Carlisle hesitated. “Why? What do you know?”
Fraser’s face was pale, now, almost waxen, and he seemed to sink in on himself. Carlisle grabbed his arm, shook him. “What do you know?” he repeated, shouting it –
A sudden, synchronized volley of wand fire interrupted him, and he turned around to see the line of Aurors surrounding the nightclub waver and hesitate, some of them falling, and quick flashes of black uniforms as the ASUs – those fierce, ruthless veterans – disappeared, then reappeared to strike again, and again, and again…
Caught with enemies both in front and behind, the Aurors went into the smouldering building for shelter, preferring to face five ragged enemies rather than twenty black-clads, and as he watched, Carlisle had the sudden, sinking feeling that things were all too quickly spinning out of his control.
***********
“The fire’s spreading,” Neville said, risking a peak out of the shuttered windows. Nursing a badly burnt forearm – a narrow escape from a particularly nasty curse – he didn’t need to see Malfoy’s blank, almost crazed eyes to know the man was very close to the edge. They were all close to the edge. “But there’s something strange going on outside – someone’s attacking the Aurors.”
He saw Ginny brighten. “Abercrombie?” she asked.
He watched a bit longer, as the sudden barrage of shots came from the surrounding buildings, as their unknown allies flitted quickly from cover to cover, vantage point to vantage point. They were, indeed, wearing black uniforms –
“Yes,” he answered, almost giddy with relief. “The ASUs…”
There was a brief moment of hilarity, of almost hysterical relief, but then there was a sudden renewal of shouting and noise from downstairs. Higgins tilted his head, listening. “But they’re driving them inside. They’re all coming in, now–”
Malfoy breathed out slowly, lowered his head onto his knees, and laughed, running his bloody hands almost savagely through his hair. “Oh, Abercrombie…” When he looked up again, his eyes were no longer almost crazed.
“Not all the dreams spun at Shadowlands,” he said very deliberately, standing up slowly, drawing strength from some unknown source of madness, “are harmless fantasies.”
He looked down at Ginny, and smiled a terrible, terrible smile. “I’d hoped that we would have time enough to clear up our misunderstandings, Ginny –” he reached out, drew her to her feet, pressed her wand into her hand, “but, between the fire and the Aurors, it seems our time and choices have run out.” He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and kissed her once, chastely, on her brow – and turned away.
She looked at him, then, her heart in her eyes. “Draco –” she said hastily, impulsively. He turned back, his eyes distant and focused on an inner landscape she could not see, and she lost her courage. Whatever she might have said was gone. “Where is Burke?”
He smiled. “Why, I sent him to find Moody, of course. For what it’s worth.”
*************************
They heard the screams as they pushed the last of them into the building. They’d been hearing screams all morning, of course, but this time the screams weren’t agonized, or enraged – this time, the screams were terrified.
Absolute, blind, primal terror.
It was chaos on the lower floor and on the staircase as the pushing, rushing crowd of Aurors fell to their knees, clutching their heads, some of them tearing at their eyes as if they could stop the visions – the illusions, the shadows – by blinding themselves. Tonks shouted in alarm, flung up a shield as if it could possibly defend her from Malfoy’s illusions, shouted out, magically enhanced, as loud as she could, “Malfoy! Malfoy, it’s Tonks! We’ve come to help!”
There was no visible response, but neither did any illusions descend on them and drive them mad – and then there was movement at the top of the stairs, and she saw him. He was limping, his hair was disheveled and his robes torn and bloody, but his eyes…
All around them, the Aurors who had survived the first wave, the subsequent probing attacks, and their own ambush were writhing on the ground screaming, but Draco Malfoy descended the stairs with as much grace and elegance as if he were making an entrance to the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, burned so long ago.
“Cousin,” he said, charming and urbane. “Weasley, and Abercrombie. How good of you to come – and just in time, too. –Does this fulfill your debt, Euan?”
Abercrombie looked around him and swallowed.
“You’ve gone completely mad,” Ron said angrily.
But Draco shook his head. “No. No, not I – they pushed me, so I pushed back. They attacked me and I attacked them; they threatened Ginny, and so I will destroy them all.”
“And then what?”
“Afterwards? An official Ministry apology – you’ll let me go, perhaps, knowing what I am capable of, and life will go on as it always has? No. I have, as you say, gone mad. But Ginny will survive, and Carlisle will die; you see, I have descended to Carlisle’s level, to commit so much murder in one woman’s name. I begin to understand him now…”
There was a scuff, a footstep on the stairs behind him and he whirled, battle-ready reflexes at the fore, but he hesitated, shocked –
Ginny Stupefied him, her face white, and her wand hand shaking. He collapsed, fell to the ground, limp, and instantly the screaming ceased as the illusions shattered and dissolved.
***************
When Jim Burke, Alastor Moody, and the rest of the Auror Corps arrived some time later, it was to find a scene of shocking devastation reminiscent of the worst days of the war. Hastily dousing the fire and rounding up the rest of the Aurors, he marched up to Jaryd Carlisle who had gone so horribly wrong, and placed him under arrest. But, entering cautiously into Shadowlands, he saw the carnage and the destruction and the horrifying evidence of a man pushed too far, driven beyond the limits of his own sanity –
He did not find Draco Malfoy.
***************
I have also noticed a major plot inconsistency: in the flashback in the last chapter, Draco uses the Killing Curse to kill his father, but in Ch 10, I’ve stated that he slit Lucius’ throat. Because I’m very fond of the flashback sequence, I’ll go back and alter chapter 10.
Disclaimer – I don’t own Harry Potter or any of the canon characters and concepts. Don’t sue; I swear I’ll give ‘em back.
Chapter 14 - Madness
The Aurors moved in.
Draco had a last moment to regret his hasty comment about Carlisle’s sister – he’d known it would bite hard – before he closed the shutters, shielded them, and threw himself, clattering, down the stairs. Higgins met him on the ground floor, looking more and more like the grizzled old veteran he truly was, rather than the kindly old grandfather he appeared to be.
“Now you’ve done it,” the old man said in some satisfaction. “There must be at least fifty of them out there – a good number of them black-clads.”
“Yes,” Draco answered dryly, “I do know what the ASUs are capable of. I used to lead them, once.”
“And we’ll need every bit of your expertise,” said Kelly, coming down the stairs with Longbottom, and moving to check the windows once more. The attack would come through the doors and windows, first, and they would retreat upstairs when the Aurors broke through their defenses.
Behind them came Ginny, her hair caught back and strictly braided, as it was when she went into action. She was every bit as beautiful now, at thirty-four, as she had been ten years ago at twenty-four, and despite himself Draco felt a rush of the old, primal attraction. It was dangerous, he knew, but he welcomed it as he had always done in the old days.
Just as poets had muses, so too did Aurors have motives for killing, and reasons to come back alive. Ginny had always been his inspiration – every time he fought, he had done so determined to survive so that he could come back to her. Despite all the years of mistrust and misunderstandings, nothing had ever changed…
He would still do everything he possibly could to keep her safe.
“Draco,” she said seriously, interrupting his reverie, “did you see who was leading the ASUs out there?”
He turned his attention back to the present. “No. I was only interested in Carlisle – the rest are dangerous, but ultimately only tools.”
“It was Abercrombie.”
Draco took a moment to place the name.
“The more fool he, then, for following Carlisle.” Despite his tone, he was secretly disappointed that the capable, hopelessly honest Abercrombie had ended up doing Carlisle’s bidding. He’d thought better of the man than that.
“Euan Abercrombie?” Kelly asked, interested. “I’ve heard of him. A good man, and a dangerous one. He trained under you, of course, so he would be.”
Draco grunted in less than gracious acknowledgment.
“No, Malfoy,” Longbottom said, an Auror now, and not a frightened, confused victim. “Just before you closed the shutters, I saw him give a signal. It may be that he’s not completely Carlisle’s man…”
“You saved his life, at Oxford,” Ginny reminded him. “He’d remember.”
Draco remembered almost embarrassing gratitude, and a reckless vow of Wizard’s Debt. “And it may be that he’s simply telling his men to get ready. We can’t base our whole strategy on the off chance that he might come over to our side.”
The shuddering impact of an explosive spell on the front door reinforced his point. Higgins, Kelly and Longbottom sprang to their posts, just in time before a barrage of similar curses impacted against the vulnerable points of the old building, and any chance of further discussion was lost.
****
Carlisle watched the progress of the attack with a deep, boundless satisfaction. At last, his sister would have justice – too long had he watched Malfoy enchant and ensorcel wizarding society with his illusions, weaving his web just as his father had, but with far more subtlety. Today he, Jaryd Carlisle, would put an end to Draco Malfoy for good, and if he was truly dealing with Death Eaters, or laundering money, or even holding the misguided, traitorous Ginny Weasley hostage, then so much the better.
He smiled, as he saw a flash of brilliant white light illuminate the whole front of the redbrick Shadowlands, as he felt the deep shuddering of the earth as the spell tried to take effect. There were ancient wards still in force around the house – remnants of the House of Black – and newer, even more powerful ones created by Malfoy himself. It would not be easy to bring this house of sin down, but Carlisle was willing to get his hands dirty, to see that the correct outcome eventually prevailed.
“Sir!” a young cadet called, running up to him, skidding to a halt, and performing a sloppy salute. “Moody wants to see you, sir; he wants to know…er…” he coughed, “he wants to know what the hell you think you’re doing. Sir.”
Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody wanted to know what he thought he was doing. Mad-Eye Moody, who had once stripped a Death Eater prisoner naked and hung him upside down by his ankles, waving a burning torch under his head; who had had an extraordinary number of ‘accidental deaths in custody’ before the prisoners could get to trial, and who had pushed for the Kiss for a young fifteen year old boy.
“Tell him,” he said to the wide-eyed cadet, “that he knows exactly what I’m doing. And tell him that if he hurries, he can be in on it too.”
The boy saluted again, turned on his heel and ran.
“Do you think that’s wise, sir?” asked Fraser, the head of the Auror contingent.
“Wise?” He shook his head. “Not really. But there’s nothing he can do to prevent us anyway.”
There was a huge cracking sound, and one of the windows on the ground floor shattered, glass spraying everywhere. Navy clad Aurors poured in through the gap, only to meet with a barrage of curses from inside. Whatever else anyone said about Draco Malfoy and his motley band of allies and companions, they were excellent fighters.
“Sir!” Another shout, from a squad leader this time. “We’ve made a breach. Alpha squad is going in!”
He nodded in gracious acknowledgment, prepared to watch as the Aurors poured in and overwhelmed the defenders. But just as he smiled, there was another blinding flash of light, and a deep, shocking rumble – but it was no spell of theirs, this time. The flash of curses and spells continued, but this time it was interspersed with screaming, horrifying, thin screaming, and he knew something had gone terribly wrong.
There was a brief, shocked pause, and then four men – only four – struggled out of the billowing smoke and debris, limping, their robes tattered and covered in dust and blood. He went down to them, his heart hammering, and the formerly confident leader of Alpha squad turned to him with white, terrified eyes. “They booby-trapped it,” he said, rivulets of blood running down his dust-covered face. “The floor blew on us…” His voice trailed off, and Carlisle gripped his chin, shaking him –
But he choked, blood welling from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes faded and glazed over, and he slowly went limp in Carlisle’s arms.
The leader of the reserve squad, standing silently behind him, whistled softly and swore under his breath. “Malfoy,” he breathed. “Jesus God, you’re asking us to corner Malfoy, of all men–”
Carlisle whirled and gripped the man’s robes in his fist. “Are you afraid of him, man? You still outnumber him ten to one! Rush them, there’re only five – they can’t possibly have too many tricks of that sort!”
The man hesitated, and he tightened his grip, almost hauling him up off the ground. “I don’t care how you do it, burn the bloody building down around them if you have to, but get them out of there! Do you hear me?”
The dead squad leader’s eyes watched him, questioned him, and accused him.
“Sir,” the man still protested, fainter now, “this is the Diagon Alley shopping precinct; we are limited in our options–”
In the face of Carlisle’s vicious, snarled answer, the Auror lost any further inclination to argue. He only nodded frantically, turning to hasten back to the fight.
Diagon Alley could be rebuilt. They would never get a better chance to bring Malfoy – liar, manipulator, butcher – to the justice he so richly deserved.
*****************
At first, it was easy enough. They had strong wards and shields and the building was relatively easy to defend; in fact, it was a much better situation than she had expected, given some of their past engagements. Ginny still remembered in excruciating detail the time they had hunted a Death Eater kill squad inside a muggle shopping centre on Christmas Eve…
This, on the other hand, was a simple matter of defense and shielding, the only problem being the extremely high number of opponents, and their numbering only five – with, of course, the nebulous chance of help from Abercrombie. Slytherin to the bone, Draco had put his finger on it – they could not afford to rely on long-ago promises made in the heat of the moment. If Abercrombie did support them, then it might bring the moment of surprise that they needed, but if the Scotsman held back then they would not be left hanging.
Draco had become the youngest and most effective commander of the war – despite his name, despite his father’s actions – because he had an uncanny reputation for cold-blooded, ruthless logic in the chaos of battle. He knew what needed to be done, and he did not hesitate to do it – despite the cost, despite the moral and ethical qualms. Ginny, alone of his contemporaries, had known what it had cost him – she’d been able to comfort him, once.
She’d been able to rein him in, once.
This gift for dispassionate analysis and the ultimate knowledge that he was, despite everything, loyal, was why the Ministry had not pressed for the ultimate penalty for his patricide, but had graciously allowed him a dishonourable discharge instead. He was too dangerous to push too far, and too potentially useful to eliminate.
At least he had been, before Carlisle persuaded them he was a threat. It was too late to go back now; matters had progressed too far for diplomacy and compromise.
“They’ve broken through!” called Higgins, retreating, blood running from a cut on his forehead. He was breathing heavily, but his eyes were steady as he watched Draco. “And there are definitely some black-clads in the fighting. I don’t think your boy’s going to come through.”
Draco swore.
There were navy-robed Aurors pressing in through the breach in the windows, now, and Kelly and Neville began to retreat, fighting their way to the stairs to reach herself, Draco and Higgins. They exchanged a barrage of curses and hexes, managing to hold the incoming tide for a while, but there were too many of them – they fell back, and Draco, his eyes cool and flat, activated one of their pre-prepared booby traps.
The floor erupted in a blinding, deafening explosion, and the navy robes disappeared in the smoke and rubble. There was a moment of shocked silence, while the five of them – no longer prepared to stop at anything – began firing into the smoke. Then, as their eyes and ears began to recover, they could hear the sporadic screaming and groaning, and see the red, mangled ruin of what had once been flesh and bone…
It was too late for all of them, now.
************
His eyes narrowed against the smoke, his ears blocked to the piteous groaning and whimpering from the poor fools who’d thought they could take Shadowlands so easily, Euan Abercrombie remembered Oxford.
It had been his first real mission with the ASUs: a routine hunt for the ringleaders of the Death Eater recruiting groups operating at the university. However, things had begun to go very wrong, very quickly, beginning with a firefight in one of the great buildings, witnessed by centuries old architecture and shocked, disbelieving students scrambling to get out of the way. He had been cut off, pinned down behind a carved pillar with enemies on all sides and no way to escape, and Malfoy had sent the rest of the team on to pursue the true prizes –
But had stayed himself, stayed to help him out of a situation that would certainly have led to his death or capture.
“Mad,” he’d said, panting heavily and trying hard not to panic. “You should have gone on, sir.”
Draco Malfoy, the legendary black-clad commander, had looked at him and smiled grimly, eyes hard and constantly watchful. “I need you, Abercrombie. No one else knows how to retrieve the files from the computers.”
Pureblooded, he’d pronounced the strange word carefully, but Abercrombie knew Malfoy had personally picked him out of obscurity for this mission, muggleborn though he was, based on his very secret expertise. Three grinding years in the Ministry’s muggle technology research and development labs had not prepared him for the terrifying whirl of life on the front line – he’d panicked, his very first time facing enemy fire, and now he was pinned down with the very man he’d been trying so hard to impress.
He’d summoned up a mad, horribly stretched grin. “I’ll need to get to the computers first, sir.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Malfoy had said, amused. “Next time, though, you can fight your way through them yourself–”
He’d stood up, then, and launched a devastating flurry of curses, dragging Abercrombie with him from pillar to pillar, cursing at his ineptitude and swearing that he’d make a black-clad out of him if it killed him…
They’d gotten to the computers eventually, and he’d done what he knew best, extracting the relevant information – and then they had battled their way out, and on the way he had killed his first man.
Malfoy had supported him as he’d thrown up, retching piteously, shivering uncontrollably and almost crying from delayed shock and enormous relief. It had been then, in one of the truest moments of revelation in his life, that he’d sworn Wizard’s Debt – he’d not known, at the time, that Malfoy had seen it all so many, many times before.
Nevertheless, despite his commander’s cynicism, he had held his oath sacred. Years had passed since then, the war had ended and Malfoy had been disgraced, but Euan Abercrombie still remembered the day he had left his life as a computer geek behind, and had become an Auror…
“Are you sure about this?” Tonks asked. “He may not understand.”
“I’m sure. He’s ice blooded in battle – he’ll recognize us, and know we’re on his side.”
Ron Weasley, his eyes disbelieving, was still staring at the redbrick nightclub, where so many men were needlessly fighting and dying. “He’s killing them. He deliberately set that trap –” He shook his head. “I never believed it when they said he was mad, that he’d do anything if he was pushed…”
“Carlisle’s lost all sense of rationality, Weasley.”
“But Malfoy’s the one doing the killing.”
He shook his head. “And Carlisle provided the provocation. –I know. But he’s got his Ginny in there with him.”
Weasley’s eyes met his, slid away. “I thought I’d seen the end of the war.”
Abercrombie laughed. “So did we all.” He straightened, looked about him, and gathered his squad of elite veterans – many of whom had served with Malfoy – with a glance. “Well?”
“They’re holding,” said Adams, who had only just managed to escape the trap himself. “They’ll probably last another six hours or so, with Malfoy’s bag of tricks, but there’s no way they’ll be able to kill them all.”
He grunted. “No gaps in the defenses?”
“None at all. As far as it’s possible to hold that place with five defenders, they’ve got every possible option covered.”
That caught Tonks’ attention. “Five?”
“Malfoy himself, Weasley, Longbottom, the old man and the Irishman –”
“There should be six,” she said sharply. “Malfoy had three security chiefs. Where’s the other one?”
There was a sudden silence, broken by another wave of attacking Aurors. This time they came more circumspectly, but were still repelled. “Six hours, you say?” he asked.
“Probably. They can’t hold them off forever.”
“Right.” He turned to the rest of his men. “So? Are you with me?”
There was a general chorus of agreement and support.
*******
Two Aurors padded cautiously up the service corridor to the second floor, eyes constantly searching the shadowed corners for attackers, ears straining for any hint of sound, wands out and ready for anything. They were tense, almost vibrating with tension – the deep, absolute silence was doing more to unnerve them than any number of magical aids. Watching them, his eyes narrowed and predatory, Kelly’s lips stretched into a feral grin.
He cut his eyes to the left, where Longbottom waited, their backs against the wall, waiting for the Aurors to come. Two fingers were held up – two men coming – and then all five fingers spread, one folding down, four, then three, then two, then one, and then none –
They whirled, fired into the corridor, cut the Aurors down, and vanished into the shadows again.
******
Other than the well-guarded, narrow service corridor, there was only one way to reach the second floor; up a sweeping modern staircase, all glass and steel and metal, arching over the floor of the nightclub. Lit with wizard light, crowded with fashionably dressed, partying witches and wizards, it had been worthy of the ‘coolest’ and ‘hippest’ muggle clubs – or so Draco’s architect had informed him. He had certainly paid enough for it, having no real interest in muggle clubs – ‘hip’ or not – himself.
At the moment it was blacked out, as the whole club was blacked out, and it was crowded not with clubbing, paying guests, but with bodies and determined, maddened Aurors. He, Ginny and Higgins had spread out – himself at the head of the stairs, Ginny to the right and Higgins to the left – and were doing their ruthless best to pin them down. But these were men who had forced their way in through the still dangerous wards on the doors and windows, who had fought over every bit of the ground floor and had dragged themselves over the bodies of their dead comrades, and who were not going to be thwarted now, not when they had seen so many die –
Nor did he intend to surrender, not now, and most definitely not to Carlisle.
******
Tonks was the first to see the Aurors skulking about the walls. She tapped Abercrombie on the shoulder, drawing his attention to it; he frowned, and swore under his breath.
“Smoking them out. Damn it all –” he jerked his head at Adams, and four men peeled off to take out the fire squad. But there were more of them, and their job already done – they could see the smoke rising, now, pale grey in the clear midday light. It had yet to take hold, but the attackers inside were gradually falling back, perhaps delaying long enough to convince the defenders that they were being driven back, and to distract them from the danger outside.
******
“Smoke,” Fraser said. “It seems they took your suggestion to heart.”
Carlisle stared grimly at the rising wisps of grey. “Now we’ll see how tricky the bastard is.”
The fire smell rose on the wind, and the air started to shimmer in the heat.
“He’ll have no choice, soon; he’ll have to come out. And that’s when he’ll be at his most dangerous –”
“We’ll send in the ASUs. Front line veterans, ruthless killers…” Carlisle trailed off, frowning. “Where is Abercrombie?”
Fraser’s head whipped around. “You called in Abercrombie for this?”
Carlisle hesitated. “Why? What do you know?”
Fraser’s face was pale, now, almost waxen, and he seemed to sink in on himself. Carlisle grabbed his arm, shook him. “What do you know?” he repeated, shouting it –
A sudden, synchronized volley of wand fire interrupted him, and he turned around to see the line of Aurors surrounding the nightclub waver and hesitate, some of them falling, and quick flashes of black uniforms as the ASUs – those fierce, ruthless veterans – disappeared, then reappeared to strike again, and again, and again…
Caught with enemies both in front and behind, the Aurors went into the smouldering building for shelter, preferring to face five ragged enemies rather than twenty black-clads, and as he watched, Carlisle had the sudden, sinking feeling that things were all too quickly spinning out of his control.
***********
“The fire’s spreading,” Neville said, risking a peak out of the shuttered windows. Nursing a badly burnt forearm – a narrow escape from a particularly nasty curse – he didn’t need to see Malfoy’s blank, almost crazed eyes to know the man was very close to the edge. They were all close to the edge. “But there’s something strange going on outside – someone’s attacking the Aurors.”
He saw Ginny brighten. “Abercrombie?” she asked.
He watched a bit longer, as the sudden barrage of shots came from the surrounding buildings, as their unknown allies flitted quickly from cover to cover, vantage point to vantage point. They were, indeed, wearing black uniforms –
“Yes,” he answered, almost giddy with relief. “The ASUs…”
There was a brief moment of hilarity, of almost hysterical relief, but then there was a sudden renewal of shouting and noise from downstairs. Higgins tilted his head, listening. “But they’re driving them inside. They’re all coming in, now–”
Malfoy breathed out slowly, lowered his head onto his knees, and laughed, running his bloody hands almost savagely through his hair. “Oh, Abercrombie…” When he looked up again, his eyes were no longer almost crazed.
“Not all the dreams spun at Shadowlands,” he said very deliberately, standing up slowly, drawing strength from some unknown source of madness, “are harmless fantasies.”
He looked down at Ginny, and smiled a terrible, terrible smile. “I’d hoped that we would have time enough to clear up our misunderstandings, Ginny –” he reached out, drew her to her feet, pressed her wand into her hand, “but, between the fire and the Aurors, it seems our time and choices have run out.” He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and kissed her once, chastely, on her brow – and turned away.
She looked at him, then, her heart in her eyes. “Draco –” she said hastily, impulsively. He turned back, his eyes distant and focused on an inner landscape she could not see, and she lost her courage. Whatever she might have said was gone. “Where is Burke?”
He smiled. “Why, I sent him to find Moody, of course. For what it’s worth.”
*************************
They heard the screams as they pushed the last of them into the building. They’d been hearing screams all morning, of course, but this time the screams weren’t agonized, or enraged – this time, the screams were terrified.
Absolute, blind, primal terror.
It was chaos on the lower floor and on the staircase as the pushing, rushing crowd of Aurors fell to their knees, clutching their heads, some of them tearing at their eyes as if they could stop the visions – the illusions, the shadows – by blinding themselves. Tonks shouted in alarm, flung up a shield as if it could possibly defend her from Malfoy’s illusions, shouted out, magically enhanced, as loud as she could, “Malfoy! Malfoy, it’s Tonks! We’ve come to help!”
There was no visible response, but neither did any illusions descend on them and drive them mad – and then there was movement at the top of the stairs, and she saw him. He was limping, his hair was disheveled and his robes torn and bloody, but his eyes…
All around them, the Aurors who had survived the first wave, the subsequent probing attacks, and their own ambush were writhing on the ground screaming, but Draco Malfoy descended the stairs with as much grace and elegance as if he were making an entrance to the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, burned so long ago.
“Cousin,” he said, charming and urbane. “Weasley, and Abercrombie. How good of you to come – and just in time, too. –Does this fulfill your debt, Euan?”
Abercrombie looked around him and swallowed.
“You’ve gone completely mad,” Ron said angrily.
But Draco shook his head. “No. No, not I – they pushed me, so I pushed back. They attacked me and I attacked them; they threatened Ginny, and so I will destroy them all.”
“And then what?”
“Afterwards? An official Ministry apology – you’ll let me go, perhaps, knowing what I am capable of, and life will go on as it always has? No. I have, as you say, gone mad. But Ginny will survive, and Carlisle will die; you see, I have descended to Carlisle’s level, to commit so much murder in one woman’s name. I begin to understand him now…”
There was a scuff, a footstep on the stairs behind him and he whirled, battle-ready reflexes at the fore, but he hesitated, shocked –
Ginny Stupefied him, her face white, and her wand hand shaking. He collapsed, fell to the ground, limp, and instantly the screaming ceased as the illusions shattered and dissolved.
***************
When Jim Burke, Alastor Moody, and the rest of the Auror Corps arrived some time later, it was to find a scene of shocking devastation reminiscent of the worst days of the war. Hastily dousing the fire and rounding up the rest of the Aurors, he marched up to Jaryd Carlisle who had gone so horribly wrong, and placed him under arrest. But, entering cautiously into Shadowlands, he saw the carnage and the destruction and the horrifying evidence of a man pushed too far, driven beyond the limits of his own sanity –
He did not find Draco Malfoy.
***************
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