Chapter Text
Chaos was building around Harry Potter. His chest felt tight, and he was so angry he could scream. It was a trap. He knew it could be a trap, and he still insisted on going. The vision showed Sirius being tortured. Of course he had to do something! He couldn’t just stay at Hogwarts while his godfather was in the hands of Voldemort. It was a trap. Sirius was never there in the first place. He was now. They all were. His friends, Death Eaters, Order members, and now even Dumbledore were all at the Ministry. They were all there because of Harry. He wanted to scream.
Everything was happening so fast. Bellatrix and Sirius were dueling. At one point it looked like Sirius was about to fall back into a veiled archway after being hit with a curse, but Remus knocked him to the side with a spell of his own. Unfortunately both spells combined rendered Sirius unconscious. Remus ran to take care of him, as Bellatrix made her escape. Harry felt a white, hot fury. His chest was still so tight. Sirius nearly died. It was his fault. Sirius was only there to protect his godson. Harry needed to take his anger out on something. So he ran after Bellatrix. She was taunting him the whole way as she ran towards her next destination. Harry didn’t care where she was going, or even if they were headed towards more danger.
They arrived at the Ministry’s Main Atrium. Bellatrix turned and sent a stunner Harry’s way. He ducked behind the large fountain at the center of the hall. He dodged in time, but the fountain took damage. She quickly cast a few more stunners, but Harry had always been good at dodging and finding cover.
“Ickle Potter thinks himself so smart!” Bellatrix cackled with a demented glee. “You were so easy to trick! Poor baby rushes in to save his godfather, only to be the one needing saving. Leave the fighting to the grown-ups, eh?” She kept speaking to him in that annoying babying tone. “It’s such a pity I didn’t get to kill that cousin of mine. Perhaps next time!”
Her laugh echoed, and something in Harry snapped. “Crucio!” Before he realized it, he had cast the curse and had Bellatrix on her knees. He couldn’t hold the curse long, and knew it wasn’t strong enough to cause immense pain, but it felt good. Her scream was enough to soothe some of his rage at least.
Bellatrix took a moment to regain her composure and looked up at the boy in front of her. She smiled, almost as if she was proud of him. Instead of her normal cackle, she burst into a fit of giggles. “Good job! That wasn’t bad for Baby’s First Unforgivable." The laughter stopped and was replaced by her labored breath. "Word of advice: You really have to mean it. You have to mean it more than anything you’ve ever meant." Her tone was manic, yet encouraging. "Even if you don’t, make yourself believe that you do. Then they’ll beg for your mercy.”
It was odd, but Harry felt like she was genuinely trying to give him advice on how to better cast curses. Harry told himself that Bellatrix's strange behavior was the reason he paused instead of knocking her out when he had the chance. She was quick to recover and their battle continued. Like with Sirius before, Bellatrix and Harry were throwing and dodging spells. The main difference in their duel, Harry noticed, was that Bellatrix was only aiming to stun and disarm. She and Sirius had been casting magic that was unrecognizable to Harry, but was obviously meant to harm or kill.
“Give it up! You can’t defeat me. I am my Lord’s greatest and most powerful servant!” Another curse destroyed part of the fountain they were dueling around. “He recognized my potential and personally taught me the Darkest Magicks. Magic even the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black could only dream of!” She paused her speech for a moment, and her voice turned almost… soft. “You have potential. My Lord has recognized it in you. I am better, due to his grace. Give up the Prophecy to him, and you could be too.” There she was, sounding genuine again. It was like Bellatrix actually believed that Harry should defect to Voldemort’s side.
Harry didn’t know what to make of Bellatrix, except for that she was obviously mad from all her years in Azkaban. Perhaps she’s always been that way, considering the things he’s heard Sirius say about his family. He didn’t like the tone she was using with him. It set him on edge. The idea to mimic one of her crueler laughs, as a way to mock her, came to mind. So he did. “Even if I wanted to hand it over, I can’t! It was already destroyed earlier! Long before you and I started this duel.” Suddenly his scar burst in a near-blinding pain. Voldemort was watching, and he knew the fate of the Prophecy orb. He wasn’t happy. Harry mimicked Bellatrix's deranged laugh again as he clutched his forehead with his hand. It felt a little satisfying, to be honest. “And now your Lord knows how you’ve failed him!”
His words hurt Bellatrix more than the Cruciatus, just as he’d hoped. She begged her unseen Lord for forgiveness. “My Lord! I am your most loyal. I am your most faithful. I will rectify my wrongs. Please!”
Watching her beg turned something in Harry’s stomach. It was a deeply sinister satisfaction at watching someone grovel before him. He knew instantly that this emotion wasn’t his. It was Voldemort. Slow, purposeful footsteps followed a loud crack in the air. A cool magic rushed over him, enveloping Harry in an eerie calm. Something inside Harry told him to not turn around, even as he saw Bellatrix lower herself further towards the direction of the steps. Then they stopped.
“Harry Potter.” Harry recognized that voice from last year, though it was somewhat smoother now. “You’ve fought well. But, to what end?”
The Dark Lord Voldemort was standing just behind him now. The older wizard put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, which caused him to flinch and turn to shrug it off. Doing this made it so the two were now in each other's line of sight. The barely-man looked just as he remembered from the cemetery. Harry still felt too dazed to move properly. He needed to react. He needed to do something. His head was in a throbbing agony, but his magic felt calm and numb. It was like his magic and mind had differing opinions on which Harry should follow. The tightness in his chest was gone, but was replaced by a deep dread. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
Voldemort looked at Harry’s now-bleeding scar with curiosity, then understanding. “So. That’s that, then.” He was talking to himself. “Truly an unexpected development, but one I should have seen before now. I had ordered my Death Eaters to keep you alive, but that was because I wanted to finish what I started.” He paused, then smirked. “You do like disrupting my plans. Don’t you, Harry?” He chuckled at his own little joke. “A true Slytherin knows how to adapt quickly. A change of plans is in order.”
His arm was firmly in Voldemort’s grasp at the time Dumbeldore finally made his appearance in the Atrium. He hadn’t come alone. Some of the Order had caught up, and several Ministry officials had apparated in. Harry even recognized Minister Fudge among the officials. What happened next was quick, but time seemed to slow for Harry.
“Tom!” Dumbledore’s shout was akin to a lion’s roar. “Let the boy go!” Harry had never seen his headmaster this enraged. He thought he even saw a hint of fear in his eyes, though he couldn’t be sure from half way across the hall.
Voldemort ignored everyone and quickly moved to grab hold of Bellatrix with his free hand. He pulled them both in close and disapparated from the Ministry. Chaos erupted.