Mortal Peril - 17

"What is it, Severus?" Voldemort asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since his arrival. He took several steps closer to try and see over Snape's shoulder. "What is happening?"

Before Snape had time to answer, the entire chamber began to shake with the raw power of Harry's unleashed magic. The phial in Snape's hand shattered, sending small splinters of glass flying and cutting into Snape's hand. The remainder of the potion spilled onto Harry's shirt.

Using Snape's moment of confusion to his full advantage, Harry pulled himself into a seated position and spat the entire contents of his mouth into his former professor's face.

"I may be ready to go – ready to die to end this – but not yet," he snarled, slamming his head forward to bash against Snape's. The impact was so quick and so hard that Harry saw stars. The roaring in his ears increased, and he had to blink hard against the darkness threatening to consume him.

Not expecting the blow, Snape flailed backwards and stumbled into Voldemort with the force of his momentum. Harry's surge of power again shook the room, causing bits of stone to crumble and fall around the chamber. Voldemort was knocked backwards through the cavernous door, just before the archway collapsed with a thunderous roar. Snape fell to the ground inside the chamber, his head striking the cold stone floor and leaving him momentarily stunned.

As quickly as he could, Harry tossed his legs over the side of his makeshift coffin and rose unsteadily to his feet. The room spun alarmingly, and he had to grab the edge of the box for balance. It was all he could do to keep his stomach's contents from spilling. His leaden limbs felt weak and unresponsive, and his vision was blurred. The stone inside his rope bracelet was burning hot against the tender skin on the underside of his wrist, but he welcomed the pain, using it to help him clear his mind.

He had to get his wand and get out of here. He reached out with his senses, and his heart plummeted when he detected that familiar hum of anti-Apparation wards. He should have known that Voldemort's fortress wouldn't be without them.

How else was he to escape? He wouldn't last long in his present physical condition. He hadn't swallowed any of the Draught of Living Death, but some of it must have been absorbed into his digestive track because he felt thoroughly awful. He was worried about how long he could manage to keep his tenuous grip on consciousness. Even now the black spots in his vision appeared to be growing and filling in the gaps.

Still, he had to do something. He couldn't simply stand here and wait to fall over. Taking a shaky step forward, he reached for Snape, who was still sprawled on the floor. The Potions master must have sensed Harry's plan because he kicked out, knocking an already-shaky Harry backwards.

Snape crawled backwards, reaching for his wand, barely leaving Harry any time to grab for his own in order to escape. As Harry's adrenaline began to pump, it seemed to clear his head and brought some strength back to his weakened muscles.

Snarling, he lunged for Snape, determined to get his wand.

*~*~*

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Draco arrived at the Visitor's Entrance to the Ministry a moment after they'd left Hogwarts.

"The wards went down. They've got Hogwarts," Hermione said, sounding panicked.

"I know," Ron replied, putting his hands on her shoulders. "We have to trust that the Order and the Aurors can handle things there, Hermione. We have to help Harry."