Disclaimer- All recognizable characters and story elements are the property of J.K Rowling.

AN- Long time no see, huh? I hope you enjoy this chapter, and make sure to read the AN at the end please!

Invincible

Chapter 8

The black eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange wheeled wildly around to focus on the barely discernable outline of Albus Dumbledore. Squinting into the haze, Bellatrix grasped her wand tightly in her fist, trying to will away the drops of sweat that had begun to form on the palms of her hands. She stood her ground as the said wizard approached, refusing to back away from the old blood traitor.

"Drop your wand child," said the steady voice that pierced through the surrounding chaos, "We don't desire any more violence then necessary."

A sudden laugh erupted from the black-haired witch's sneering lips. Bellatrix had the intense desire to curse the wizened wizard's head off, but pushed it away in favor of analyzing the situation methodically. It was no time for the teasing games she usually liked to play.

There were at least twenty wizards and witches surrounding her from all sides with wands out and careful stances, and Bellatrix knew that at least one of them would be able to move fast enough to stun her if she made the wrong move at any given moment. This didn't mean that she was about to hand her wand over to the foolish wizard in front of her though.

"Are you really so ancient now that referring to everyone as 'child' has become a habit, Dumbledore?" Bellatrix taunted, all the while tracking the movements of every wizard surrounding her. "And I quite sincerely doubt your raging mutts aren't thirsting for blood as we speak."

There was a ripple of angry movement at her words, with wands tightening in hands and teeth grinding apparent. Bellatrix smirked at the untrained imbeciles that comprised the Light side and cocked her head delicately to the side to wait for Dumbledore's response.

"Now Bellatrix, I meant what I said. No one wants anymore violence today," said Albus Dumbledore lightly while he started to circle the prone witch, "If you would only be so kind as to answer a few questions for us before we take you into custody, then I'm sure the Wizengamot would look upon it favorably."

"I'm sure we both know what my sentence would be Dumbledore, regardless of my cooperation." Bellatrix whispered, eyes narrowed, "But I must admit you've gotten me a bit… curious."

"Indeed?" asked the white-haired wizard with a mildly surprised expression on his wrinkled face. Bellatrix glared at the wizard, stepping into sudden synchronization with his pace. The two opponents circled each other, both with a slight contemplative expression on their faces though for entirely different reasons.

"Why certainly Dumbledore. I might even answer a few, as long as you say please." Bellatrix purred smugly.

"Very well child, I'll try to keep this conversation short, as pleasant as it is. We know the identity of your Commander, Bellatrix. We know he is the Dark Lord's heir. What are his capabilities?" asked Dumbledore bluntly for once, carefully scrutinizing the expression of the suddenly frozen witch.

Bellatrix ground her teeth together tightly, drawing blood from the flesh of her cheek. Striving to regain composure, she giggled and resumed her pacing, staring directly into the eyes of the old wizard.

"I doubt you need little old me to tell you the Commander's capabilities, Dumbledore." She stated, keeping a careful grin on her face, "I'm sure you saw the generous present we left on your doorstep last week. The Commander was thoughtful enough to send you the remnants of his playthings. They were quite the sight, no?"

"That was my daughter you monster!" Came the anguished scream of a bald-headed wizard, charging through the surrounding Order members and towards Bellatrix with a crazed look of grief in his eyes. Before she even had to raise her wand to exterminate the foolish barbarian, a jet of blue light hit the wizard and he fell onto the ground into a deep sleep.

"Maybe a more appropriate question to ask would be what the Commander's… relationship with your Lord is, my dear." Dumbledore inquired probingly, sparing no acknowledgement for the interruption except to nod at a nearby Hestia Jones to take the wizard away.

"He is the Dark Lord's most trusted, of course! He deserves nothing but respect and admiration for his servitude to the Dark Lord!" cried Bellatrix haughtily, while quickly formulating a plan for escape. The Dark Lord had to be told about the Order's knowledge of his heir, and she simply would not allow herself to be captured without a good few body counts on her hands.

"But surely he must mean more to Voldemort than just a mere servant, no?" Asked Dumbledore, carefully scrutinizing the witch, "And I hear you yourself have quite the attachment as well, Bellatrix."

"Don't you dare utter our Lord's name, you undeserving disgrace!" cried Bellatrix hotly, eyes shining with fury. "And I'm sure the Dark Lord will be quite happy to hear you have this information; our Lord has been suspecting we have a rat among our honored ranks!"

"Now there my dear, let's strive to keep things civ-"

Any retort from the old wizard was quickly cut off as the dark-haired witch suddenly struck out at him viciously, eyes glittering for vengeance.

Eyes narrowed in concentration, Harry swished his wand deftly in the air, tracing the rune of deception carefully. As soon as the last stroke was made, the triangular rune glowed red and Harry abruptly began to chant in Latin. The red glow faded as soon as the last word was whispered and Harry turned around once again to face his bed.

There, lying on the silken pillows, was a perfect replication of himself. Harry allowed a smirk to slip onto his handsome face as he carefully examined the doppelganger. Unlike the many replicas he had conjured before, this model actually held a fraction of his magical essence.

While a normally very risky thing to do since destroying the doppelganger would mean losing a part of his magic, Harry knew the Manor of the Dark Lord was all but impenetrable and his essence would be safe in his privately warded rooms. He also didn't deny being a bit more reckless than usual, as he had been trapped in the same space for the past two days. Harry despised the feeling of captivity, even if it was meant for his own supposed well-being.

The lithe young man strode confidently towards the black drapes, pushing them aside and slipping through the opening. He walked down the winding corridor quietly and approached the portrait at the end, hoping the alarms wouldn't sound.

Harry had suspected that the wards on his room were based on his magical essence; therefore as long as part of his magical signature was inside the room, the wards would allow anything else to pass through. He pushed a stone at the bottom of the portrait and the wall eased open, allowing him exit. Sure enough, no blaring sirens had gone off and Harry smirked at being able to manipulate the wards his Father had set so easily.

Harry cast a quick Disillusionment Charm on himself in case he passed any wandering Death Eaters and slipped seamlessly into the shadows.

"Be quick, Draco," intoned the cloying voice of Narcissa Malfoy, "Your father will be back soon." Without a backwards glance at her only son, Narcissa swept out of Alexandrine's to wait at the Apparition Point on Rue Baudouin.

Draco Malfoy stood impassively on a podium in the middle of the small tailor's shop, bored at the mindless French chatter of the seamstresses around him. His ice-gray eyes focused on one old seamstress in particular, who seemed adamant on stabbing his abdomen with the sharp needle she wielded.

The blond was getting increasingly impatient with the endless alterations being done to his new set of dress robes and was on the verge of storming out of the shop with the robe in its current askew state. Draco, however, just took in a calming breath through clenched teeth and refrained from acting like a hot-tempered plebian.

The bell of the shop rang out, causing Draco to look up at a dark-haired man who sauntered brusquely towards the counter. The blonde receptionist looked up and blushed slightly at the young man leaning on the desk before informing him politely that there were no seamstresses currently available, and to come back later.

Draco abruptly dismissed his attention from the customer as his attendants asked him to turn around and hold out his arms. Letting out another impatient breath, Draco reluctantly complied, being careful to let none of his contempt show in his stony expression. His mother was good friends with the owner, and it wouldn't be looked highly upon if he antagonized the employees.

"But surely the gentlemen you are serving can spare a single seamstress, no? My needs are quite urgent, and I would hate to have to find another tailor…" said the man, his voice trailing off as he noticed Draco's gaze back on him.

"I'm dreadfully sorry sir, but our current customer-"

Draco abruptly held up a hand, cutting the receptionist off midsentence. She turned to look inquiringly at him, but he never tore his gaze from the other man. "I can stand to lose a tailor." He said, probing the man carefully.

There was something about the man's cool demeanor, his subtle aura, his piercing emerald eyes… With a sharp intake of breath, Draco narrowed his eyes and quickly hid the smirk that was threatening to erupt. Harry never really was good at optical glamours…

The man smiled vaguely then casually waved his hand, freezing all the people scurrying about. As he stepped forward to approach Draco, he dropped the now apparent glamour charms with another hand gesture then immediately adopted a solemn expression.

"Was I really that obvious?" asked Harry with a frown.

"It was really only the eyes," intoned Draco as he stepped down from the podium and changed back to his regular robes with a spell from his wand, "I wouldn't have made the connection otherwise."

"Don't bring that up," Harry growled, his frown becoming more pronounced, "I still don't understand why I can't manage a simple glamour variation, when I have no trouble with other more advanced charms. It's humiliating."

"Calm down Lord Dark-Heir-All-Mighty," mocked Draco with a roll of his eyes, "You're not Merlin reincarnated." The blond wizard promptly threw up a Protego, preparing to block the hex he knew was inevitably going to come. Sure enough, a sinister jet of light slammed into the shield and dissipated.

With a slow exhale, Harry's features quickly darkened again, a stark contrast to the jocular expression he wore a minute ago. "Anyways Malfoy, I came to see if you were interested in helping me out a bit."

Waiting for Harry to elaborate, and suspicion arising as he remained silent, Draco nodded carefully. "You know I am technically bound to serve you, Commander."

That was apparently all the affirmation Harry needed. The raven-haired teen grabbed onto Draco's arm, then Apparated both of them with a CRACK.

The two young men landed in a smoke-strewn alleyway, alit occasionally by the flares of light from nearby spells.

"Where the hell did you bring us!" gasped Draco, ducking as a curse shattered a window nearby.

"Diagon Alley, of course." Said Harry calmly, taking out his wand and placing a silver Death Eater mask over his face. "I have a suspicion that our assistance is needed."

Harry stepped out of the alley, only to be roughly pulled back by Draco, his eyes gleaming angrily. "Why in the world would you bring us to the raid on Diagon Alley! The Dark Lord specifically banned you from coming! In fact, you're supposed to be locked in your room right now!"

Shaking himself from Draco's grasp, Harry exhaled in frustration. "My Father isn't here right now, and I suspect he won't be showing up at all. Besides, I have a feeling Bellatrix needs help."

"How do you know all of this Harry? This whole thing better not be based off only your misguided suspicions…"

"What happened to being 'bound to serve'?" asked Harry, blocking a stray hex that came hurtling towards them, "Just follow me, and I'll explain everything afterwards."

Thrusting a mask into his hands, Harry stepped out onto the main street and disappeared around the corner. After a quick internal debate, Draco sighed and hurriedly placed the mask over his face. He silently prayed that Harry didn't end up getting them both killed, then stepped out after his Commander into the chaos.

AN- Terribly sorry for neglecting to update, but schoolwork is terrible and I find my desire to join Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry growing increasingly stronger with every passing day of high school...

So seeing as I really can't keep a consistent updating schedule, I've decided to set up a little place at the bottom of my Author's profile for update reports. I'll tell you how many words I've written for the new chapter thus far, and when to expect an update. It'll be updated every few days, so you can check that out if you're interested!

By the way, does anyone actually read these Author's Notes? Tell me in a PM or review if you do by typing something like "Pansy Parkinson poked the purple petunia"; I'm extremely curious (I currently suspect that only about 5 people read ANs...)

As always, feel free to give comments and suggestions, I'm open to improving this story and my writing overall!

'Till Next Time!

Sol Oriens