Harry Potter And Bellatrix Lestrange

"You're right, Hermione," Harry finally said after a few minutes of silence. When he turned around, she could see he'd been crying, and she knew that her face wasn't looking any better. "It hurt. It hurt more than you can imagine. We've stuck by each other for five years. We know each other so well… I considered you my sister in everything but blood. And then you - you just…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'm angry, too." Harry took a deep breath. "I was so angry at first. It will probably take a long time for me to get over that anger, but like I told you, for now, I can't afford to get angry. I can't change the past - I can't change what you've done, no matter how much I'd like to, and I have to move on. So for now, that's what I'm doing. I can't do what you'd like me to do. I can't yell and scream at you now. There's a time for that after Voldemort is gone. That's the best I can do."

Hermione looked at the hand he'd stuck out towards her, then at his face. He was holding on to his composure by the skin of his teeth, she could tell, and if she pushed any further now, then she'd be faced with a torrent of emotion she wasn't prepared to deal with right now, and it'd be a distraction to him they couldn't afford. "We really don't deserve you, Harry," she said as she slowly took his hand and held it to her heart.

Harry made a sound that was half-laugh and half sob. "Just… I'm going to collect on that offer of yelling at you when this is all over, all right?"

"Sure." Hermione managed a weak smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

"No, I don't think you do," Harry remarked.

"You're right, but it'll be good - for both of us."

Harry nodded and turned to leave the room. "I'm going to get myself a sandwich. You want anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Hermione wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. "Maybe a glass of juice."

"Okay." Harry paused in the doorway. Without turning to look at her, he said, "And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"You were only partially right. You didn't fail me when it mattered. You aren't failing me now. And it matters now. More than ever."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but by the time she'd found the words, he was already gone.

"Azkaban," Bella said as she looked around the table. Gathered around were a many of Harry's friends and allies as they could get a hold of on such short notice. Once she and Hermione had figured out the cryptic clues left in the old legends, with a lot of help from especially the ever-studious Ravenclaws in Potter's Legion, Harry had figured they had a good shot at finding the Rod and ending the war, so he'd asked everyone who could to come. Arrayed around the table were teachers, students, and soldiers - Remus and Snape sitting next to Neville, Luna, and Parvati; Moody and General Rotan were there, too, and Xerina and Hiscophney finished off the round table. Harry, Bella, and Hermione were spread in between them. Harry glanced around the room; at best, this would be their chance to end the war. He knew the research was hurried, with less than two weeks since the arrival of Neville's note and this meeting, and that their chances at actually finding the weapon they were hoping for were slim at best. This week and a half had been relatively quiet on both sides; Harry and his advisors assumed Voldemort was preparing for a big attack.

"The clues we have found all lead us there. Thanks to the hint from the Legion, we have managed to narrow down our search, and all the legends, all the stories point us to Azkaban," Hermione explained further. A magical map of the island appeared in the center of the table, complete with stormy weather and dark seas around it. "This is Azkaban today. Thirteen hundred years ago, it looked like this."

Bella waved her wand and the stormy, dark island vanished, only to be replaced by what might have been a piece of Ireland. Trees lined the coast, and the sea was no longer wild and untamed. The rocky beaches became long stretches of sand, and the foreboding fortress that now housed prisoners and Dementors, built upon the layers of ruins, was replaced by a castle that was as magnificent as Nair'icaix.

"Thirteen hundred years ago, the island of Azkaban was the seat of House Polairix's mage crafters and artificers. The best and brightest mages, alchemists, and potions makers came there to study and experiment with magical artifacts and creatures," Bella continued. "That may explain the existence of the Dementors - an experiment gone awry. However, after a number of wars, House Polairix realized that Azkaban would make the prime location for military research. The artificers began developing magical weapons, the creators and alchemists began to experiment with beasts for combat. By the time the Rod of Dominion was crafted and used, Azkaban had become the center for warfare development."

"So what happened to the island? It clearly doesn't look anything like this now," Moody grumbled.

Hermione leaned forward and waved her wand over the map, causing it to change back. "History is a little vague on that, and most of what we've just told you was pieced together from various clues. But we're pretty confident on what happened to Azkaban - three centuries after the dark wars, with House Polairix's resources drained from continuing wars and the subsequent reconstruction, Azkaban's ruler, Count Gregorianus Azkaban, decided to make his bid for the throne of Polairix. He believed that with Lord Polairix weakened and the artificers at his command, he had a good chance of overthrowing him."

"Civil war," Rotan commented.

"Exactly." Hermione nodded. "The records suddenly end there, and begin again fifty years later. We can only speculate what happened, but I think it's pretty obvious that House Polairix razed Azkaban and destroyed the records."

"That's all nice and well, but what does this history lesson have to do with the Rod?" Hiscophney asked.

"Count Gregorianus was said to have found a magical artifact he was sure would ensure him victory in his insurrection," Hermione announced triumphantly. "It is described in his personal journal - of which we only have excerpts - as being a staff bearing the crest of Polairix, sealed away in an ancient tomb, warded by blood and guarded by creatures of darkness. The only way he could have come across it is if it was located in Azkaban."

That announcement caused an excited murmur to wash across the room, but Rotan put an end to it quickly. "I hate to be the nay-sayer, but what makes you so sure that it wasn't moved after his rebellion was destroyed?"

"The tomb of Gregorianus is located deep in the ruins of Azkaban," Bella replied, "which means he never got his armies off the island. I know it's a long shot, but it's the best guess we have. We can only hope that because the earlier Lord Polairix was unable to destroy the Rod, the one who defeated Gregorianus didn't, either. It makes sense, though, that they would replace the Rod where it was found, buried with a rebellion they didn't want anyone to know about. And who would ever travel to a desolate island like the one they turned Azkaban into?"

"In fact, Azkaban remained unoccupied until Amanda Argoggle stumbled across it by accident in 1823, and it was turned into a prison a mere hundred-fifty years ago," Hermione added.

"So what's the plan, then? I don't suppose that this thing is unguarded, and we have no idea what could possibly be protecting it," Neville asked, looking around the table.

Bella ticked off her fingers. "We can count on wards, blood wards from the looks of it, which means Harry needs to be there. Any other wards I can take care of. As for what's guarding it… we haven't got a clue."

"We're going to take a complement of the Ice soldiers that are sitting the place with us," Harry added. "If we run into a dead end, we'll pull out and come back another time, with the support we need. For now, we need to go as far as we can. Maybe we'll even manage to get to the Rod itself."

"I'm coming along, too." Hermione speared Harry with a pointed look. "Aside from Bellatrix, I'm most familiar with the legend, and I might come in useful."

"What about the rest of us, then?"

...

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