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HP457- Tommy Boy
🕑 Added 2025-06-27 22:41:03 +0000 UTCBefore anyone could comment on Fred’s impersonation of a Marvelous Ministry official, Harry’s hand twitched toward his pocket. The metal card seared against his leg… warning, not message.
He stood immediately. Everyone else froze when they caught the look on his face.
“He is here.”
Daphne was already up. Tracey didn’t even ask... she moved to the door, wand slipping into her sleeve. Astoria stood too, eyes wide but calm.
They all knew who he was.
Harry turned, heading straight for the exit. The group fell in behind without a word. They didn’t waste time explaining.
By the time they reached the stone arch to the gargoyle stair, Harry placed a hand on the carving. It slid aside without the password. McGonagall was gone. Someone had cleared the path.
Tonks stood waiting at the top step, her usual grin gone.
“I sent McGonagall away,” she said, already moving aside. “We’ve got seconds. Ministry’s been locked down. Let’s go.”
“Amelia?” Harry asked, eyes on the spinning stairs.
“Already gathered everyone.” Tonks opened the door. “Shacklebolt, Moody... everyone is ready. You are last.”
“We planned for this,” Daphne said under her breath, more to the group than anyone in particular.
Harry stepped through first. “We are still ahead.”
They moved to the corner of the room where wards wasn't protecting against, and the portkey activated instantly... Ministry-only. One-way.
With a lurch, the group vanished.
They landed in a flash of light just outside the emergency entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Two Unspeakables stepped aside the moment they appeared. Shacklebolt was already there, barking into a glowing rune screen that looked like it was connected to every corridor in the building.
Moody stood off to the side, eye spinning like mad. When he saw Harry, he gave nod. “Took your time.”
“Had to get the fan club,” Harry muttered.
“Lucky them.”
Tonks was already relaying something through a linked mirror.
The rest of the group followed Harry’s lead. No one stood around gawking. Susan and Daphne peeled off to the left corridor with Shacklebolt, Tracey and Hermione followed the perimeter to check magical interference. Astoria and Luna stayed near the centre with Tonks, both already flipping through their kits.
“What is the situation?” Harry asked, turning to Moody.
“Initial breach confirmed ten minutes ago,” Moody replied. “He is not playing subtle. Waltzed past security straight to Level Nine.”
“Let him,” Harry said.
Tonks handed him a parchment. “Security reports a ward breach outside the Hall of Prophecy. Magical resonance spiked... his wand is active.”
Harry scanned the note. “Where is Amelia?”
“War Room,” Tonks answered. “She is coordinating from Level Two. She is giving you full discretion. You want to move, we move.”
Harry nodded, scanning the stone walls. “We cut off the west wing. No one else goes near Hall of Prophecy except us.”
Moody gave a grunt of approval.
“Are the decoys in place?” Tracey asked, wand still drawn.
Shacklebolt answered as he passed, “Thirty-two. All active.”
“Then we let him try.” Harry didn’t look up from the projection. “And if he finds the real one... he will wish he hadn’t.”
Hermione muttered a quick spell and checked the charms running across the left-side support columns. “Anchors are stable. No flux.”
With the path clear, Voldemort strode through the final corridor, robes trailing behind him like something out of a bad stage play. He reached the door to the Hall of Prophecy and didn’t so much as pause before flicking it open with a wordless spell.
The room didn’t welcome him.
It exploded.
Not a blast of flame, nothing dramatic... just a burst of tightly-packed magical force that sent shards of enchantment splintering outward. The shockwave slammed into him hard enough to rattle the stone behind. Smoke poured out, thick and fast, swallowing the space.
When he stepped back into view, the swirling shimmer of a Protego was clinging to him like a second skin. His eyes were narrowed. No sign of surprise. Just mild irritation, like someone had nudged his tea out of reach.
Inside the Department control room, Tonks muttered something colourful under her breath. The rune-screen flared with the impact signature.
“That is the first one gone,” Shacklebolt said, shifting slightly as another rune lit up along the edge. “Second is live. He’s not going to slow down.”
“Let him trip all of them,” Harry said, eyes on the projection. “They won’t hurt him. Just annoy him."
The second room triggered three minutes later. This time, it was a flash freeze... dense frost coating every surface within seconds, followed by a binding charm loop that locked the air into choking static. Another decoy. Another miss.
Third and fourth went off as expected. Voldemort didn’t so much as flinch. The wards cracked, surged, and fell, barely slowing him down.
Harry turned to the group, his tone brisk. “Right. Let’s move. Stay close. Don’t face him directly. He is alone, but don’t count on that... he is probably dragging thousands Dementors with him. Stick to the plan. And don’t forget the bracelets.”
They nodded, no one arguing. Each of them touched the charm on their wrist... silver links Harry had enchanted last term, with runic etchings.
The corridor narrowed near the Department’s outer ring. The moment they crossed the next threshold, a sharp shift rolled across the air like pressure slipping sideways.
“Wards are collapsing,” Hermione muttered, adjusting her grip on her wand. “That is the fifth signature down.”
“Don’t wait,” Harry said, already striding forward. “We stall him until the array activates.”
The corridor beyond flickered in half-light, walls still humming with containment wards. Like the place was holding its breath. That wouldn’t last. Not with Voldemort this close.
Daphne fell into step beside him. “You said he would avoid the showy route.”
“He changed tactics,” Harry said. “Fine. So will we.”
Susan glanced over her shoulder. “Do we split?”
“No. Stick together until he is in sight. Once he is distracted, then split. No heroics. No solo moves.”
Tracey tilted her wand down slightly. “If he is leading Dementors, I want the high ground.”
“Then start climbing,” Harry said. “He is heading for the central vault.”
Just ahead, the air shimmered.
They reached the Hall of Echoes. The ceiling stretched high above, arched with heavy beams that sparked faintly as they passed.
The entrance at the far end cracked open.
A figure stepped through the smoke.
Not hooded. Not masked. No theatrics. Just Voldemort, plain as anything, in dark robes that flickered faintly with enchantments. His wand already in hand.
Harry didn’t hesitate. “Go. Circles One and Two, now.”
Daphne, Tracey, and Susan peeled off left. Hermione, Luna, and Ginny took the right. Astoria stayed back, setting up the array chalks, crouched low and quick.
Voldemort tilted his head. “Potter.”
“Tom,” Harry called, smiling as he stepped into the Hall of Echoes.
Voldemort glared, red eyes shining in the dim. There was no reply, but the irritation in his stare said plenty.
Voldemort stepped forward once. “You’ve grown bold.”
“Only thing growing faster is your ego.” Harry paced slowly across the platform, wand lazily trailing sparks. “Farming emotions in North Korea? Bit desperate, even for you.”
The wand in Voldemort’s hand twitched. “Power has its price.”
Harry laughed, truly amused. “No, fear has. You are terrified, Tom. Of dying. Of being recognised. You are clinging to this cracked ego like it’s worth anything. You are pathetic.”
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”
The green beam tore across the Hall, sharp and fast. Harry didn’t even flinch. With a casual flick of his wand, the curse veered off, shot clean into the left wall, where it vanished.
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “You transfigured air... into a tunnel to redirect a Killing Curse.”
Harry gave a grin. “Ten points to Tommy.”
He started to circle, wand loose in hand. “Tell me something, Tommy boy... made any new Horcruxes lately? Or are we still playing the classics?”
Voldemort didn’t answer right away. His gaze narrowed.
“So you know,” he finally said.
“Oh, I know enough.” Harry twirled his wand. “I’ve already destroyed six. If you haven’t made more, you are dying today. If you have, you will be back as a pathetic wraith. Again.”
