HP: The Last Trial Ch.15 (Patreon)
Content
Chapter 15
CROVUS LESTRANGE
Crovus watched as Voldemort tortured Hermione Granger beside him relentlessly. Her screams rang through the entire shack, as the bastard simply laughed maniacally, especially as he saw him struggling with his binds.
“AHHHHHHH!” she continued to scream through her gag. Voldemort’s cruciatus was something that had ruined adult wizards and witches, and in comparison to them, she was nothing.
“Hahaha!” The bastard had the audacity to laugh as Crovus saw him twist his wand, and his eyes glinted darkly as if enjoying her screams.
Crovus’s mind could not still wholly contemplate that he had survived. That the bastard had lived. And he knew that he had to do something.
He struggled and struggled, yet the binds refused to come off. They were spells of some kind which made it even difficult to budge a little and his heart quickened as he noticed how Voldemort was not stopping.
Granger’s screams were now visceral as the bastard simply laughed, and Crovus knew that he had to do something. Otherwise, the witch would lose her mind.
And so she closed his eyes as he roused his magic with as much force as he could muster and pushed it to his arms. It was dangerous, tempering with magic like this, yet he had no choice. He felt his arms heat up as the sweat dripped from his face, and he could see below as smoke rose from the wood of the chair as magic bubbled in his arm at his command, and not just small amounts of it but a rather violent storm of it.
A violent storm that Voldemort only noticed too late.
The skin over his arms began to burn as Crovus himself screamed in pain as he continued to push magic into his arms despite his body’s continuous protests.
“AGHHHH!” he screamed in pain and saw Voldemort’s red orbs shift towards him as they widened in the realization of what he was attempting to do.
But by then, he was too late.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed viscerally as a blast erupted, decimating the chair holding him down and nearly charring his arms.
BOOOOM!
It sent everything flying, and Crovus, despite the excruciating pain from the burns and the large amounts of wood splinters and pieces now stuck in his body, lunged at Voldemort, who couldn’t react in time, as he grabbed hold of that yew wand and rolled on the ground before he pushed himself up once again, his hands charred black from the accidental magic he had used, as charred pieces of skin fell off.
“Huff Huff!” he huffed as he raised the wand and pointed it at this new body of Voldemort, whose eyes widened even in this situation.
“I should have expected no less from you,” the man spoke maniacally, his red orbs glinting in the darkness, the lamp illuminating the room destroyed in the carnage.
“You may have somehow survived his curse, but I can assure you. You won’t survive mine,” Crovus said through gritted teeth, his mind barely functional through the severe pain that was ripping apart his very existence.
Blood dripped from his arms, and he could even feel his shirt moisten up from an injury, and as he was about to slash the wand, the man spoke up.
“Stop! Stop!” he shouted, and for some odd reason, he halted as Voldemort stood up.
“Ahh, my dear Crovus, what will happen if you swing that wand,” and Crovus stopped as he shouted through gritted teeth.
“I will be putting an end to the scourge you are!” he shouted.
“Ahh, but that is where you are wrong, my dear. For if you slash that wand, you will lose your life, for you will have killed the hero of the war. And I am sure they would give you the kiss for this if it even got to that,” the man said with a sinister smile as he motioned towards the outside.
“This cabin is a very special place I had built, one which only I can enter and leave. And right now, outside the wards circling this cabin, there are probably over a thousand Aurors, all waiting to rescue me and the mudblood herp of the war,” the man said as he pointed towards the form of Hermione, who was whimpering in the corner. At the same time, her half-open eyes stared at them with fear and trepidation.
“You kill me, and they will kill you on sight if they are merciful,” he said with a cruel smile, and Crovus knew that he was right. After all, he had read the Death Eater protocols many times and knew that there was a very high chance that things would pan out as Voldemort was saying.
“What are you proposing?” Crovus said, not lowering his wand, and saw the man’s smile widen as he stood up.
“Kill her,” the man said as he pointed towards Hermione Granger, who stilled at those words.
“And I shall have them spare your life, and you can watch contently as from your cell as I change the world,” the man said as he began to laugh, and when Crovus didn’t move his wand at all, he saw the man’s face tighten as he snarled angrily.
“Don’t you care for your life? Kill her and io shall spare you your miserable existence,” the man snarled angrily, and by then, Crovus could feel his own vision blur as the pain was becoming overpowering.
“You see, there is one thing you don’t understand about me,” Crovus said as he raised his wand and saw the man’s eyes widen as the shack lit up in that all too familiar ominous green.
Crovus pushed all he could into the wand and could feel it resisting slightly. After all, no wand liked to be used against its own master. Yet Crovus knew that with the state in which his arm was in, he wouldn’t be able to fire off another spell.
“At this point, I don’t really care about my life!”
And he saw the man’s face pale as he realized just what he was about to do.
“NOO!” he screamed. A similar scream erupted from the back of the shack, yet Crovus didn’t care and, with all his strength, shouted the ominous words.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”
0000
AMELIA BONES
Amelia Bones felt her feet touch the ground once more as she saw several platoons of Aurors encircling the place at which they had narrowed down.
Her feelings about this were complicated. She had herself presided over the proceedings of the case of Crovus Lestrange and had a plethora of questions about the happenings of the past several hours.
The truth was that they didn’t make sense. The boy’s case, despite her personal views about him, had presented new evidence which even had her questioning the reality of his actions and the intent behind them. And there was still time in the trial, yet she could confidently say that there was no chance that the young man was getting a life sentence after the testimonies and evidence they had observed until this point.
So, while her hands were tied, a part of her agreed with Greengrass on the point that it didn't make sense for the boy to escape when he had. That there was indeed something rather fishy about this whole ordeal.
She saw Scrimegour rushing towards her. The man was leading the whole operation, and as he led her to the tent, he began explaining.
“AN hour ago, we received a distress signal from Mr. Potter. Before we could reach him, he had already rushed in and had yet to come out since then,” Scrimgeour briefed her, and as soon as she heard that, she felt another headache coming.
Harry freaking Potter was now involved in this. What the hell was going on?
“How could you let that happen? Didn’t you caution the boy that this could be risky!” she nearly shouted, and the man’s face twisted as he retorted gruffly.
“You, of all people, should be aware of the boy’s insolence and have even enabled it in the past. Of course, I ordered him to wait for us, yet he had to be a god damn hero,” he shouted, and it was just like Harry to ignore orders.
Her eyes went towards the discarded shack and the magical boundary around it as she questioned once more.
“What about the wards?” she questioned, and Scrimegour was quick to answer.
“They were set up after the boy went in. Our curse breakers have been working on them for some time but….” The man didn’t finish, for someone else cut in.
“They are near unbreakable,” the newcomer added, and she looked to the side and found Bill Weasley standing there, his face still marred by the werewolf slash that he had gotten from Fenrir back during the war.
“What do you mean?” she questioned with a frown.
“They are the kind of wards we saw during the ward, erected using Parseltongue. We cannot break them, at least not quickly,” the red-headed Curse breaker quickly when her glare intensified.
Parseltongue. And right now, she knew only one wizard capable of casting such wards with that obscure magic, and it was not Potter; the boy’s abilities as a wizard were highly limited.
Could it really be as it seemed? Could this really be Crovus Lestrange's work?
Was she wrong about him? What about the trial? Was that all a lie?
She had so many questions, yet she had little to no answers, and she would not have them until those accursed wards came down.
“How long, Weasley?” she questioned as he ground her teeth. And when she didn’t receive a quick answer, she turned towards the man and barked angrily.
“I want an answer, Weasley!” she shouted, and the man was taken aback and quickly replied.
“Ahh, an hour, maybe a bit more,” he finally replied, and she didn’t like that. In an hour, they could have the biggest disaster since the ascension of Voldemort on their hands.
No, it was too much.
“Make that half an hour. I want those wards down in half an hour, a second more, and you will have your resignation on my table first thing tomorrow!” she shouted as the redhead whimpered away, leaving her alone with Scrimegour.
“Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are war heroes. I want you to put their safety and security as top priority,” she ordered, and the man nodded.
“But Minister, you must understand he has had them trapped in there for half an hour, it is highly likely….” And he didn’t need to say it.
There was a chance that they were both dead. And if so, she was sure that this had the potential of unraveling their whole society.
“What about Lestrange? Do we have permission to kill?” he questioned, and she hesitated for a moment but nodded nonetheless.
“Yes, you do,” and as they were discussing the various plans of action, suddenly, they were interrupted by loud shouts coming from the outside.
“LET ME IN! I AM SAYING LET ME IN!” she heard someone shout outside and frowned. The situation was very tense, and outsiders were strictly barred from entering the area.
She walked out of the tent and saw a couple of Aurors trying to stop a rather familiar face.
“LET ME IN! I HAVE SOME INTEL FOR THE MINISTER!” Greengrass screamed as she struggled against the Aurors, and she frowned as she heard those words.
“LET HER IN!” she shouted, and the Aurors complied and let her go. The young girl ran towards her. Her face was pale as a sheet as she huffed.
“You have to rescind that order, Minister. Please, yo…”
“We have been over this already, Greengrass. This is protocol, I cannot overrule it,” she said, rather angry and frustrated by this whole scenario.
“No, please, you have to understa…” but she had had enough of this and looked the girl in the eye as she spoke up.
“The wards you see there were erected using parseltongue, and apart from Harry Potter, who we all know knows little of warding, only your client speaks the language of the snakes,” she shouted in indignation, and the young girl bit her lip at her words.
“If he surrenders, then I will rescind my order, of course, but without that, I cannot guarantee anything,” she told her, and the young Greengrass girl sighed as she took out a crumpled piece of parchment out of her pocket and handed it to her.
“Just please, for everything I ever did, just read this, and please rescind that order,” the girl pleaded desperately, and Amelia should have denied her this request. Yet, in the end, she took the piece of parchment and unfurled it, and as soon as she read it, her eyes widened.
“This cannot be true,” she said, and the girl just shrugged.
“It is, he has a ….”
0000
In the Halls of Grimauld place, none had noticed for a branch now extended beyond the name of Crovus Lestrange.