Aria Ashborn and the Deathly Hallows (A Harry Potter fanfic)

Chapter 11: Xenophilius Lovegood

The crunching sound of snow outside the tent woke Harry up almost instantly. He closed his eyes and sunk back into his pillow thinking it was rather early for one of his friends to be awake and walking about outside the tent. He then opened his eyes, unable to drift back to sleep as the walking continued, to find that it wasn't early morning, but pitch black night. He took out the snatcher wand, growing suspicious, and cast Lumos. Aria was not in the bottom bunk of her bed, nor was Hermione on the top bunk. Quickly, Harry, looked above his own bed to see that Ron was not sleeping on his top bunk either. Harry began to panic and made his way anxiously towards the exit of the tent to pursue the loud footsteps. Had they all not been able to sleep? Were they talking about him? Had they been taken? What was going on?

His question was answered the instance he stepped out of the tent. There, a dark figure in the icy snow was Lord Voldemort. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Voldemort's eyes shun bright red in the darkness and his smile curled. Behind him, Aria, Hermione, and Ron were on their knees with scared expressions on their faces. The look in their eyes pierced Harry like a bullet.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find you?" Voldemort said in a cool voice.

"Let them go!" Harry shouted raising the wand, but Voldemort merely flicked his own wand and Harry was sent flying into a tree, the snatcher wand far from within his grasp. His back pained and he groaned as he slammed into the bark. He did not fall, however, but stayed pinned and unable to move, with his feet inches from the ground

"They are only a few of many you are willing to let die for you." Voldemort laughed.

"Harry!" Aria cried, tears streaming down her face, "Help me! Please!"

"Quiet!" Voldemort shouted. Harry struggled against the invisible restraints holding him. Voldemort, approached Harry, with his dark, black cloak, floating across the ice, "This feels familiar doesn't it, Potter? So many times I've had you within my grasp and you've always managed to slip away. Well, not this time. Don't bother giving me another speech on 'love'. Love is not your strength, Harry Potter, it is your greatest weakness and it is why you will lose. Allow me to demonstrate. Crucio!"

Voldemort pointed his wand straight at Aria, who began to scream in agony and wither around in the snow. Her fingers scratched at the ground as to find a grip on reality. Harry knew how this torture felt and he wanted nothing more than to save her, to take on the pain himself, to lift her up out of the snow and take her far away. It was agony for him to not be able to do any of these things. All he could do was watch and listen to the piercing screams.

"Please stop!" Harry cried, "Stop! Take me instead!" And then, Voldemort did stop and Aria, on her hands and knees struggled to breathe again.

"A stupid request." whispered Voldemort to Harry, "Because I will kill you whether you beg for death or not. But first...Avada Kedavra!"

"No!"

But it was too late, Aria was dead. Her green eyes were open and lifeless, reflecting the stars above in the night sky. Hermione cried at the sight and Ron was unable to speak. But Harry screamed and screamed as Voldemort laughed. Soon, Harry's vision was contaminated with black spots that eventually swallowed him whole. He could no longer feel anything. It was like he had fallen asleep but was not dreaming.

Then, as clear and cool as the ice on the lake in which he found the sword, Harry heard Voldemort say into his ear, "You're a fool."

Harry jerked up quickly, panting and looking around for Voldemort, but he was not there. In fact, Harry was back on his bed in the tent. His sheets and blankets had been tossed to the floor and the snatcher wand was safely under his pillow. He was panting and dripping in sweat. Harry quickly pulled out the wand and cast Lumos. There in the blue wand light, Aria was sound asleep in the bunk bed near Harry. As he watched the rise and fall of her chest, Harry was able to regulate his own breathing again. He stood up and checked just to make sure that Ron and Hermione were also this way and when they were, he went and sat at the table in the kitchen of the tent, unable to even think about sleep in fear of falling into the nightmare again.