This is my first fan fiction on Veritaserum. I hope you like it!
Even if you don't, I encourage you to leave feadback.
Many thanks to my Beta Reader, Harry James Potter.
Warning: PG-13 for violence and mature themes.
Disclaimer
All settings and characters are property of J.K. Rowling. This is fan-fiction written solely for the non-commercial edification of the fans of the wizarding world of Harry Potter.
The Duelist
The air shimmered with desert heat as he approached the place where he would find his greatest fear come true. They would have killed his brother already, and left the body there for him to find. They would be waiting for him.
Luther Tannalay gazed into the bright blue sky ahead and observed again the sickly green skull floating in the air, a snake slithering out of its mouth. Below it lay a wide, sandy clearing surrounded by tall, jagged, reddish rocks that resembled dragon teeth. He strode forward, cold anger masking his fear as he assessed the surroundings. He passed quickly into the ring of red teeth and stood in the shadow of the Dark Mark, and saw his fears confirmed. On the hot sands a lifeless form lay, seemingly abandoned in the blistering sun.
Aaron.
Slowing his pace, Luther bowed his head. His brother's body lay with arms and legs askew and a calm, almost vacant expression in his wide, staring green eyes. Near him lay a maple wand--ten inches, Unicorn hair, inflexible--nearly as familiar to Luther as his brother's face. Slowly, with resolute knowledge that he himelf would likely die soon, Luther reached down to the sand and grasped his brother's wand.
By all that is good, the Death Eaters will pay today!
There was a rustle behind and above him. Without looking, Luther flipped Aaron's wand around and sent the curse back where it came from even as he turned to face his attackers. His features narrowed in concentration as he assumed a defensive stance over his fallen brother.
Three curses flew into the clearing from the surrounding rocks, and he slipped into a whirling dance, dodging two and sending another flying back to its orginator. "Stupefy-Reducto-Protego!" he cried as the next series of attacks came. The maple wand darted and flicked with his every turn, firing curses around the clearing even as some of his assailants came forward to cut down the distance between them.
He stunned a muscular, thick-bearded man, then moved on to a gaunt, staring woman. "Sectumsempra!" he cried at her a with slash of Aaron's wand. He didn't wait to see the blood, but turned and deflected two more curses, mentally repeating the shield charm so quickly in succession that it might have been an echo. A jet of green light slipped by him on the right, and he dodged into its wake to avoid a crackle of red lightning that melted the desert sand into glass where it struck.
A tall man with a weak chin shouted curses at him desperately. Luther deflected the clumsy attacks as he worked his way toward his opponent. No, Karkaroff, you don't get to take me down. Luther contemptuously knocked away Karkaroff's wand with his hand and blasted him full in the chest with a stunner. Karkaroff flew backward with a crumpling crunch into one of the surrounding rocks and lay still.
Luther spared him no further thought as a set of moldy-looking twins fired reddish-brown bolts from their wands. Deflect, dodge, deflect, dodge, he thought between mental incantations. The two moved to surround him, and he calmly let them, and focused on a space just behind one of them, turned and popped almost soundlessly past. Their curses struck each other and they collapsed twitching.
Come to me... he thought to his attackers. Where are you...? A gangly man with blond hair and a sneer on his face leapt down from the rocks, brandishing his wand. Not you either, Lucius! Without pausing, Luther dropped to the sand, rolling, allowing the killing curse to pass over him, and called out, "Viscus intorqueo!" Shooting a spell of his own design at Lucius' knee. The joint gave way with a wrenching pop. Malfoy dropped his wand and sank to the sand, shrieking in agony.
The next attack was one he'd waited for...hoped for... and it came before Malfoy's wand touched the ground.
"Avada--"
"Stupefy!"
"--Kedavra!"
The curses met in midair. A sound like a flute, but brassy, filled the clearing. Vibrant energy connected two wands together. A soft silver filigree surrounded Luther and his newest assailant: Jens Todstein. Ragged strawberry-blond hair framed the man's face. A vivid, purple scar ran from the man's right eyebrow, across a vacant eyesocket down to his cheek and onto his chin. One cruel blue eye glared contemptuously. A bit of drool fell from his mouth as he fought the chain of energy that gripped both wands.
With an empty grin, Luther taunted his enemy, "Todstein...your wand and Aaron's seem to have a bond...I guess you couldn't resist killing him yourself, could you?"
Curses flew toward the shimmering glow around them and did not penetrate, but flowed gently around the bubble of fate. Shouts could be heard as if in the distance, but Luther ignored them.
"Vhat is happening? How...How do you use dis vand so vell?" asked Todstein grimly, sweat beading on his forehead.
"It was my wand for seven years."
Scowling, the scarred man spat to one side. "It von't matter, Tannalay. I vill kill you just like I killed your brother." He bore down and a bead of energy flowed toward Aaron's wand.
"As usual, Todstein, you're one step behind." Luther responded to the scarred man.
"Vhat?"
"I have another wand." With his left hand, Luther pulled his own wand out of his robes, sighted past the beam of energy that connected both of them, and blasted Todstein directly in the forehead with the curse he'd used on Malfoy. The bubble of energy vanished and dropped Luther in the midst of fifteen dark wizards. Swiftly, he divided his mind for the task ahead. The cost would be hefty, but he needed the quickness that an undivided mind could not give him.
Curses flew around him as he raised both wands and deflected spells on both sides. Sweat slipped from his forehead and into his eyes, but he knew just by sound exactly where the curses were and where they came from. His feet slid across the sand as if he were ice skating, while countercurses and shield spells blurred through his divided thoughts in a constant litany of survival and vengeance.
He shot curses back at the Death Eaters; jumped and spun, created a gigantic dust devil that assaulted two of them, and shot a gush of acid toward another. His body protested at the strain he put on it, but he barely noticed. Death eaters whirled around him as he flew around them. When they apparated, he apparated. The rocks around them were cracked and blasted into rubble, while sand whirled into the air as if in a storm.
Bits of stone cut through Luther's robes and sliced his skin. Curses grazed his arms and legs, burning or melting away bits of his flesh. A pounding ache in his head bespoke the cost of dividing his mind as he had. Still the death eaters could not bring him down. Fifteen dropped to twelve, twelve slipped down to nine, then nine dwindled to four.
He felt an anti-apparition charm fall on the field. The last of them stood in a group across the devastated arena from him. One was another familiar face: Severus Snape. He was a budding legilimens and formidable duelist; a greater threat than the others. It was probably Snape who had cast the antiapparition charm. Luther stared down his opponents and breathed in carefully. The timing would have to be perfect...
Ignoring all else, he cleared his divided mind of all thought, concentrating only on Snape's pallid face and greasy hair. He let his breath out. Calmly, coldly, he waited for the final strike to come. In unison they raised their wands and each launched a different spell at him. At the last moment he crossed his wands together in front of him and bellowed, "REVERBERUS!"
The spells hit an invisible barrier and reflected back at the last four Death Eaters. Luther watched as Snape's face registered what was happening. Snape managed at the last moment to partially deflect some of his own curse, but the fallout from the others' spells knocked him off his feet. His head hit a boulder and he fell motionless to the ground.
Sand settled, sound faded. Malfoy writhed on the ground clutching his knee. Wands, bits of stone and drops of blood mixed in among the motionless forms of the fallen Death Eaters. Luther could kill him...but it was better to leave him. The curse was incurable and the wound would never heal properly. Let him be disabled and in pain for the rest of his miserable life.
A soft breeze swept through the clearing, rustling Luther Tannalay's hair and robes as he stood over the devastated battlefield. His cuts and scrapes burned from the sweat that poured into them. A trickle of blood poured from his nose while he let his mind ease back together. He scanned the scene again, listening for the slightest sound. Where was the Dark Lord?
"Avada Kedavra!" A cold, clear, high-pitched voice cut sharply through the desert. He had time to turn and just barely see the rush of green light...