Chapter 200 - Infiltrating Malfoy Manor

Behind the garden stood an exceedingly grand mansion.

Praeris and Dumbledore carefully skirted the gravel path, doing their best to avoid any sound from the shifting stones underfoot.

Back in first year, Praeris had already mastered nearly ten spells commonly used by thieves, all of it stemming from a wildly divergent learning spree that had started with Alohomora.

A silent "Astolpho" from Praeris, and both she and Dumbledore could see the scene beyond the front door with perfect clarity.

The entrance hall was vast. Its walls were covered with pale-faced portraits, and in some of those faces, faint traces of Draco could still be found.

"We have to fool these portraits!"

Legilimency and Occlumency had become, in the hands of these two genius wizards, a method of silent communication.

Ordinary people would not do this. Nor would they dare.

For one thing, both spells were difficult to learn, Occlumency especially so. Few people ever mastered both at a high level simultaneously. For another, the mind was the most private and vulnerable part of a person. Prolonged use of either magic was a heavy burden, prone to mishaps that could expose memories one had no wish to reveal.

But these two wizards were each exceptionally skilled, and great ability made for great boldness.

Since Praeris could understand Dumbledore's meaning without resorting to Legilimency, as long as Dumbledore did not deliberately conceal his thoughts, she could forgo Legilimency entirely and Dumbledore could forgo Occlumency, each saving half the effort.

Dumbledore drew two transparent objects from beneath his cloak and gave them a small shake. Invisibility Cloaks.

There are differences among Invisibility Cloaks. Ordinary ones are woven from Demiguise fur and gradually lose their effectiveness over time. The ones in Dumbledore's hands were of this kind. Harry's Invisibility Cloak was clearly something different, still fully functional after six years.

That thought lasted less than a second before Praeris said silently to Dumbledore: "Sir, we still have to open the door!"

If the door opened and no one walked through, did they think those portraits were stupid?

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and blinked.

Praeris understood at once. Malfoy Manor had no anti-Apparition wards, and the two of them had already used Astolpho's Insight Charm to see the entrance hall clearly. They could simply don the Invisibility Cloaks and Apparate directly inside.

Without another word, they put on the cloaks. A dizzying whirl, and they landed softly in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor.

The Malfoy family's wealth had its uses. Carpet covered the entire floor, and both of them touched down on something thick and silent, without making a sound.

According to Professor Snape's intelligence, Nagini was fed by Peter Pettigrew and spent most of her time on the cold, damp ground floor. But she moved unpredictably, roaming wherever she pleased, and could appear anywhere at all.

Because portraits lined the walls, Praeris and Dumbledore could not hug the walls while moving. They had to keep to the center of each corridor, passing room after room, using Astolpho's Insight Charm again and again to check what lay inside.

Time slipped away, and Praeris began to frown. They had to move faster. If Death Eaters returned to the manor after a failed mission, the two of them would essentially be walking into a trap.

Outside, across London's night sky, things were going very differently.

The Death Eaters flung Killing Curses as if they cost nothing. Red and green lights crackled irregularly overhead in quick succession, like a fireworks display gone disastrously wrong.

Tonks and Sirius had collided with Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolphus. It was a case of enemies meeting face to face, eyes blazing, hatred instant and mutual.

Bellatrix had wanted to kill her damned cousin for a long time. Winnie had thwarted that once, unexpectedly. Now Bellatrix's suppressed fury blazed back to life with full force.

Bellatrix went berserk. Sirius was all too eager to provoke her, to push her further over the edge.

But while attacking, Tonks accidentally elbowed him, and that small jolt finally made him remember: behind him was his cousin's only daughter. Andromeda was waiting at home right now for Tonks to return.

Sirius swallowed the rest of his trash talk with considerable difficulty and focused on fighting back.

Moody had guessed that Voldemort would target Sirius first. He guessed wrong. Voldemort went for Moody and Fleur, realized within moments that Fleur was not Harry, and swiftly broke off to switch targets.

His second target was Sirius. Tonks and Sirius both went on high alert, braced and ready, and then Bellatrix's voice cut through the chaos:

"Master! That's not Potter! That's my sister's brat with that Mudblood!"

Tonks ground her teeth. "She's seen me twice. Both times in battle."

The first time was when Tonks and Lupin rescued Purnell. The second was the Department of Mysteries. What actually surprised Tonks was that Bellatrix, with her completely unhinged mind, had somehow retained a clear memory of her fighting style.

Moody was the most experienced, most powerful Auror alive. Sirius was Harry's godfather, the most trusted person in the operation. The two most likely targets, and neither of them had Harry. A bold idea struck Voldemort. He would do the opposite. He would choose the least likely one.

His good student, Winnie Brown.

"Wi — Winnie!" Mundungus said, his voice tight with nerves. "Watch it! I nearly got hit!"

Winnie cursed under her breath. "I've really taken a rotten job. Please — Harry wouldn't make this much racket!"

Winnie's magic was the most distinctive on the entire battlefield. She could always produce exactly the right spell using the least amount of power.

From the moment they left Number Four, Privet Drive until now, she had not expended much effort. The biggest problem was trying to get Mundungus to stop shouting at her, it was breaking her concentration.

"Winnie!" Mundungus, playing the role of "Harry," suddenly bellowed again.

Winnie snapped: "Shut up!"

Mundungus did not shut up. "Aaaaaah! It's You-Know-Who! He's flying this way!"

As Voldemort's student — someone who knew him, Winnie reacted almost instantly. She flattened herself against her broomstick, spun around in the same motion, and fired a spell back at him.

"Get down!"

Winnie did not hit Voldemort. But the green light Voldemort shot at her missed her spine by a hair and struck Mundungus, who had just activated Apparition at that exact moment.

Mundungus was too terrified to hear her shout. He had focused entirely on escaping by Apparition, and Voldemort's Killing Curse caught him squarely.

His attempt to survive was precisely what killed him.

No time to spare for Mundungus falling. Winnie's spells scattered outward like dandelion seeds blown by the wind, drifting toward Voldemort, and he deflected them without effort. They burst and crackled in midair, spent.

"Winnie! My good student —" Voldemort's voice rang out across the sky. "Your resistance is so pathetically weak!"

This was the first time in her life Winnie had faced Voldemort directly. The hand gripping her broomstick was shaking. The hand holding her wand was shaking too.

Several high-speed tornadoes churning with sharp gravel. A dozen flaming spell-arrows and wind blades. Before Voldemort, they were as useless as a child trying to tickle an adult.

Winnie had once firmly believed that if she mastered enough spells, and those spells were sufficiently precise, she could counter any move and break any curse. Reality had just proven her wrong. When the raw power gap was wide enough, a single Killing Curse trumped everything.

Winnie thought, in pure despair: Am I really going to die here?

Among the thousands upon thousands of spells she had mastered in her lifetime, she could find nothing that would let her defeat her own mentor. Plim. Praeris. Sylvia, waiting in Azkaban for Winnie to come visit. She could only keep fighting and losing ground, savoring in the middle of her hopelessness the memories of the people who had brought her happiness.

"It's him! It's him! This one's real!"

A shout came from somewhere. Voldemort immediately dropped his useless former apprentice and spun around, flying off in one direction.

Winnie stared after him, chest heaving. She realized Voldemort had been called away by his own people. Most likely, they had found the real Harry.

She should have gone to help Hagrid and Harry. By all reasoning, she should have. But several Death Eaters had been left behind specifically to deal with her, and she could not break free.

Fine. She had to survive first. She had to make it back. Only then could she see Plim and little Prae again.

In the darkness of Malfoy Manor, Praeris stared wide-eyed down the corridor, searching for any sign of Nagini.

Her mind was as sharp as ever. Her eyes, in the dark, were less cooperative. She had moved past true night blindness, but only just, she could see, but capturing fine details in the dark was another matter entirely.

"The master didn't even take me!"

Praeris and Dumbledore exchanged a glance and quietly moved toward the nearest corner.

The speaker was Millicent's mother, Mrs. Bulstrode.

She was holding her own face in her hands, aggrieved. "I wanted to contribute to the master's cause as well!"

Walking beside Mrs. Bulstrode was Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa turned her head slightly, rolled her eyes toward the other side, and said, unhurried: "Dolly, are you questioning the master's decision? Someone has to stay at the manor and guard the master's treasures, don't they?"

"I would never question the master!" Mrs. Bulstrode fired back immediately, salvaging her dignity. "You're right, actually! I imagine only those the master truly trusts are qualified to remain at the base!"

In the moonlight, the corner of Narcissa's mouth twitched. Almost imperceptibly, but it did.

Praeris had a fairly good idea what Narcissa was thinking. Voldemort had not brought Mrs. Bulstrode because Mrs. Bulstrode was simply too weak, the same reason he had not brought that coward Peter Pettigrew on this operation.

"Narcissa, I envy you so much!" Mrs. Bulstrode suddenly said, her voice pitching sharply upward. "Why didn't I think of making Millicent a Death Eater to serve the master?"

The hand beneath Narcissa's sleeve closed slowly into a fist. She said: "Yes. Why not, indeed? Come to think of it, there's still time now, isn't there —"

"It's all because of that fat pig Rebecca Bulstrode!" Mrs. Bulstrode ground out. "I left Millicent alone for a year or two, and she stole my daughter from me! Lonely and barren her whole life, and she has the nerve to covet other people's children!"

Narcissa, as a mother, genuinely could not comprehend how Dolly Bulstrode managed to say that.

When Draco was only going away to school, Narcissa had written him letters and sent him packages constantly, lying awake worrying he might be even slightly uncomfortable.

"Hm?" Mrs. Bulstrode said suddenly. "I could have sworn someone was watching me."

Narcissa said, mind clearly elsewhere: "What else could it be? The portraits on the walls..."

"Narcissa, I had every last portrait in my house thrown into the storage room years ago!" Mrs. Bulstrode said, impatient. "A bunch of old lunatics, endlessly meddling in how I raise my child!"

Dolly Bulstrode and Narcissa Malfoy walked on and faded down the corridor. Praeris and Dumbledore slipped out from the corner.

Since both were still wearing their Invisibility Cloaks, Praeris could not see Dumbledore at all. She reached out, found the edge of his cloak, and gave it a tug, signaling him to go right.

A moment ago, Praeris had used Legilimency on Mrs. Bulstrode and had nearly been discovered. Lucky for them, Mrs. Malfoy had not paid it any attention, brushing Mrs. Bulstrode off with a word about the portraits.

And in Dolly Bulstrode's memory, Praeris had seen something useful: not long before, Mrs. Bulstrode had spotted Nagini.

Dumbledore and Praeris moved swiftly in the direction the memory had shown. They had not yet reached the spot when they saw it, a great snake gliding silently across the floor.

Nagini.

They were wearing Invisibility Cloaks. It should not have mattered. Nagini reared up her upper body anyway, tongue flickering in and out.

Praeris remembered with a jolt: snakes perceived heat. Infrared. Nagini had sensed the warmth of two bodies moving beneath the cloaks.

Nagini lunged at Praeris. Dumbledore shoved her aside immediately and cast a silent spell, sending Nagini crashing away.

Far across the city, Voldemort had been screaming at Selwyn to hand over his wand. He had used Lucius's wand against Harry, failed, and destroyed it in the process.

And then he simply stopped. Every movement halted. He vanished.

"Quick!" Dumbledore struck Nagini's head with another silent spell and called to Praeris: "Voldemort must have sensed us!"

Living Horcruxes share a close connection. Nagini in particular, a Horcrux Voldemort had created only in recent years, was bound to him more intimately than any of the others.

Looking at Nagini now, Dumbledore's gaze filled with something that had no bottom to it. Pity, deep and quiet.

Under that sorrowful gaze, Praeris drew the dagger soaked in Basilisk venom and drove it forward without hesitation.

Dumbledore could not help but think: perhaps for Nagini, who had been cursed with a blood curse and forced into the form of a serpent, death was actually a release.

And then the thought that always followed, the one he could never stop: death might be a release for the kind-hearted Nagini, but what about Harry? Could Harry escape the fate Dumbledore had mapped out for him? Could he live, and not have to die for justice?

Praeris's blade found the spot seven inches below the head. Nagini's body crashed to the floor.

The sound had barely faded before Malfoy Manor erupted. Urgent footsteps thundered from upstairs. And then Voldemort Apparated into the entrance hall.

Dumbledore grabbed Praeris in the same instant, and they vanished via Side-Along Apparition.

"Who is it! Who! Who did this!"

Voldemort spread his arms wide. He stared down at Nagini, motionless on the carpet, and his scream tore through the empty hall.

➤ Next: A Few More Years to Live