Percy Jackson and the Department of Mysteries [Book 5]

162) You're Not You When You're Hungry - Have A Snickers

Harry was running, faster than I had ever seen him. Hate was fuel, of course, and Harry had always had too much of it, but this was different. He wasn't running for his life; he was running for Sirius's.

Vengeance is ugly. It's always preached that vengeance is the wrong answer, and forgiveness is key to a happy, healthy life. But what about moments like these? Bellatrix deserved no forgiveness, and she certainly deserved punishment. Who was I to stop Harry from being the executioner?

Still, I ran after him, chest still aching from Dolohov's curse, but running all the same. There were shouts behind us, telling us to stop, telling Harry to stop, but he didn't listen, so neither did I.

We were in the brain room. Bellatrix shot a curse toward Harry as she fled, and it hit the brain jar. It toppled over, dousing Harry in the foul liquid, but he bellowed, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and it flew up and away. He leapt over Luna and Ginny, ignored the feebly groaning Ron, didn't look at the still unconscious Hermione. And I moved on from them, chasing after Harry, unsure of whether I was going to stop him or help him.

Then we were in the spinning room. Bellatrix disappeared through a door, and I had time to see the corridor leading to the elevators just beyond her figure. She slammed it shut, though, and I slid to a stop beside Harry, watching the walls spin.

Harry glared at me, eyes wide with anger, "SHE KILLED HIM I'M NOT —"

"I don't want you to kill her, but I'm definitely not going to stand by and let her get away!" I quickly interrupted, and that was the matter settled in my mind. I wasn't going to stop nor help Harry; I just sure as Hades wasn't letting Bellabitch get away with it.

The walls rumbled to a halt, and in his desperation, Harry cried, "Where's the exit? Where's the way out?"

Promptly, the door behind us flung open. I grumbled, "It was that easy? You've got to be kidding me..." Harry didn't seem to mind the sudden simplicity of this room, the angry bastard, and instead bolted through the door. I followed.

The elevator clattered ahead of us, so we skidded to a stop in the second one, Harry abusing the poor up button.

"Pressing it gently makes it go just as fast as punching it," I said, gently rubbing the poor button — maybe I could kiss it better?

Harry was not amused. His jaw worked as his fists clenched, and I wished humor was everyone's coping mechanism. Life's a lot funnier that way.

The elevator seemed to take too long and not nearly long enough. Finally, once it stopped, Harry tore the gates open, and we ran across the Atrium. Bellatrix was nearly at the telephone box elevator, but she looked back at us, and aimed a ghastly blue spell at our heads. We ducked behind the gold fountain to avoid it, because of course the horrendous thing was saving my life.

There were no footsteps. She had stopped running. Harry's eyes met mine, and mingled in with the ocean of hatred was a drop of concern. We huddled behind the fountain, and then Bellatrix cried, "Come out, come out, little boys! What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dead cousin!"

"I'm already out, happened last year, don't you read the paper?" I said.

Harry, sadly, drowned me out, roaring, "I am!" His voice echoed across the great walls and ceiling of the room, a chorus of I am! I am! I am!

"If you're Echo, does that make me Narcissus?" I whispered. "Is she Hera? Makes since, the nasty hircismus.

"Aaaaaah... did you love him, little baby Potter?" Bellatrix's voice clicked with amusement. I wanted to smack the eye bags off of her smug face.