Cold stone pressing into her back, Hermione fought to catch her breath. Just beyond the horseshoe of Bluestones, heading toward the northern Station Stone, she saw a figure with his right arm curled into his body. His left hand held a wand rather awkwardly. Hermione looked twice. She recognized that gate. She hesitated.
A spell from behind whizzed by her head. She cried out as the magic burned a path across her cheek and singed her hair. She pressed the palm of her hand to the sting. Hissing, Hermione threw her wand out around the stone shielding her and fired back.
”Stupefy!”
Not waiting to see if the stunning spell hit, Hermione threw up a shield charm and sidestepped across the grass. She needed to see if she was right. She didn’t see the Aubrey Hole before she stumbled into the indentation. She fell with a thud to the ground and the figure turned, his hood sliding back.
“Miss Granger,” Snape snarled. “Go home.”
Hermione pushed herself off the ground and brushed the hair off her face, wincing as it pulled through the blood on her cheek.
“Prof ““ Hermione hesitated. Snape wasn’t her professor, nor a member of the Order any longer. He didn’t deserve her respect. Hermione narrowed her eyes and poked her wand out.
“I’m trying to help them,” Snape growled. “They need a way out.” He shook his head at Hermione. “Book smart undeniably yet absolutely hopeless in real life.”
With the flick of his hand, a field of light emerged and threw Hermione back into the ground. Her head hit the damp earth with a solid thwack. Snape whirled back toward the Station Stone and drew his wand.
Hermione gasped as her lungs fought for the air that had been knocked out of them. She pushed herself up on her elbow. Snape’s muffled voice reached her ears while his form swam in front of her blackening gaze. She could hear him muttering something. Her heart pounded. He was trying to move the Station Stone! Hermione opened her mouth to tell him not to. He was a professor. Hermione shook her head. No, he was not a professor. He was a Death Eater helping other Death Eaters get out. Not Order members. Death Eaters. Hermione raised her wand and shut her conscience up.
”Conico!”
Hermione’s hurling charm hit Snape in his lower back. He screamed. Snape’s incomplete incantation soaked into the Station Stone, turning it blue seconds before Snape’s body slammed into the rock surface. A starburst reached to the stars, tracing the light of the path of the moon. Snape’s agony echoed throughout the circle of stones and he fell, landing flat on the grass, his arms far flung, his wand flying.
Hermione struggled to her feet and scrambled after the loose wand. With it clutched tightly in her hand, she knelt beside the ex-Potions Master and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but still there. A flash of silver caught her attention as her eyes traveled down Snape’s still form. She leaned forward and saw what looked like the handle of a small blade sticking out of the Dark Mark on Snape’s forearm. She left it where it was and stood up to perform a binding hex.
Hopeless in real life, she thought, breathing deep. I’m not the one bound to the ground.
Without another thought, she turned back toward the middle of the monument. A hooded figure approached.
”Extundo!” Hermione cast and stumbled from the kickback of the pummeling charm. A strong hand caught her on the small of the back. She sucked in her breath and looked up.
“That’s my girl,” Ron smiled.
Hermione flashed him a quick grin, noticing Ron’s pale face. Her eyes traveled down his body looking for injuries. She gasped at the sight of his jeans, shredded and sticking to the dried blood on his legs.
“Ron! You’re hurt!”
“I’m alright,” Ron assured her as he aimed his wand.
Hermione opened her mouth to admonish him but stopped when a small scurrying figure caught her eye. She watched him separate himself from the group and move to the outside of the stones. She knew that hunched over posture. “Wormtail,” she pointed her wand in his direction. “What do you suppose he’s doing?”
“Dunno,” Ron’s blasting spell ricocheted off the corner of one of the fallen stones and sent a chunk of bluestone hurling into the ground. “Trying to find something?”
“Or someone,” Hermione replied. Her eyes scanned the circle. It only took a moment to find what he must be looking for - the flash of red hair as Ginny stuck her wand around the corner of the stone shielding her. “No, he doesn’t get her either,” Hermione muttered underneath her breath as she moved behind Ron in the direction of Peter Pettigrew.
“Not again,” Ron grumbled.
Ron scurried down the path Hermione had taken, watching his footfalls on the uneven ground. Rounding the corner of one stone, he skidded on damp grass, his attention pulled like a magnet to the action in the middle of the monument. Bill seemed to be playing a game of hide and seek with several Death Eaters, dodging in and out between stones. Hermione had stopped and was firing spells in the direction of another fallen stone. Beyond Hermione, Ron saw Pettigrew making a beeline for where Ginny crouched next to Harry.
Ron felt Hermione pull on his jumper. He twisted and tumbled on his wobbly legs. As he fell, his eyes swung away from his sister to a Death Eater whose wand was pointed directly at Ginny’s back. Dumbfounded, he saw Pettigrew rush forward and push Ginny to the ground, putting himself in her place.
Harry dragged Ginny back just as Peter Pettigrew took the full force of a flesh eating hex meant for her. Pettigrew screamed, clawing at his skin as magic began to eat away at his body. He blindly dug into his flesh seeking relief from the acid like burning. His eyes popped as he struggled to suck in air. Pettigrew met Harry’s eyes for the briefest of moments before he fell to the ground.
Harry heard him rasp with his last few breaths, “My debt is paid, Harry.”
Unable to look upon him, Harry turned away. His attention caught by a flash of black behind the altar stone. He inhaled sharply as he saw the scaly grey hand griping the end of the wand pointing from behind it. Harry took aim.
” Abico converto”, he hissed.
The hurling charm caught Voldemort’s hand and threw it back, sending the rest of his body with it. The movement caught Bill’s attention. Bill followed the spell trail back to Harry. He looked questioningly at him. Harry felt Ginny reach for his hand. Harry nodded at Bill. It was time.
Bill took a deep breath and bellowed.
“Skin spells only! Now!”
Ron and Hermione lurched forward and aimed their wands. Together with Bill, their shouts rang out over the clearing.
”Spiculus!” Ron roared.
”Vomiculus!” Hermione screamed.
”Flagrus!” Bill growled.
Voldemort jerked back and screeched, the combination of the three spells eating at his skin each in its distinct way. Ron’s stinging spell sent the sensation of thousands of biting insects under Voldemort’s skin. Hermione’s hex formed large boils, red and oozing against his gray, scaly skin. Bill’s spell burnt the Dark Lord’s skin from the inside out.
Voldemort struggled to ease his agony, swaying as the stones in front of him danced before his eyes. Hatred boiled in Harry’s gut. With a growl, Harry aimed.
“Expelliarmus!”
Harry’s hand shot up to catch the wand.
Voldemort shrieked and whirled dizzily around. “Potter!” he screamed and caught himself on the altar stone. He gasped, his chest heaving in his struggle not to touch his inflamed skin. “Foolish boy,” he rasped. “Think that is my only wand?”
Harry glanced down at the object in his hand. His heart constricted. Closing his fist around the wand, Harry glared at Voldemort. “You don’t deserve to touch Dumbledore’s wand!”
Voldemort laughed hoarsely and aimed the wand he had procured from the sleeve of his robe at Harry’s chest. “He doesn’t need it anymore. Neither do I.” Voldemort swung his wand around, a stream of sparks emitting from the end of it. Bill, Hermione and Ron dove and rolled on the ground.
“Believe you can be the hero, Potter? You can’t protect them - or her, you know.”
Ignoring the taunt, Harry slipped Dumbledore’s wand into his pocket. Ginny squeezed his hand. Harry felt warmth and smiled confidently at the Dark Lord. He tugged and Ginny stepped in front of him.
“Miss Weasley,” Voldemort greeted her.
Ginny drew a deep breath and pushed the nausea in her stomach down. She clutched Harry’s hand tightly and spoke evenly. “Hello, Tom.”
Harry saw the smallest movement “ Voldemort pulled his wand back. He seemed almost hesitant to use it. Harry jumped on that.
“You won’t hurt her,” Harry barked. “You hurt her and you hurt yourself.”
“There are other ways for me to regain my strength,” Voldemort sneered.
“Those other ways aren’t nearly as good,” Ginny answered knowingly. “And they most definitely are temporary.”
“You are a foolish girl if you believe you have a choice in this,” Voldemort snarled. “She didn’t,” he paused, his wand pointed at Ginny’s chest, “and neither do you.”
Harry saw Ginny’s shoulders rise and fall before he felt her reach out to their bond. He heard her suck in her breath and anger began to boil within him. Harry felt his blood begin to burn. His stomach rolled and his limbs felt heavy. He planted his feet farther apart to steady himself and took a deep breath. Voldemort was poisoning their bond. Hatred flooded Harry’s body as he glared at the Dark Lord’s triumphant gaze.
“I told you that you can’t protect her, Potter. I’ve been bonded before, you know. I know how to influence that bond much like she does.”
Harry felt Ginny push her love into their bond, just enough to help him clamp his mind shut and focus on the blood flowing through his veins.
“It is rather fitting to kill you as you protect what you love, Harry,” Voldemort hissed as he raised his wand. “Your mother would be so proud.”
Harry allowed Ginny’s love to push the anger out, leaving him with a sense of calm confidence. Harry raised his chin a touch higher and silently dared Voldemort to cast a spell. He was ready.
”Avada Kedavra!”
“Exanimare!”
Harry held his vibrating wand steady as a stream of blue light flashed forward, meeting green, winding together as the two wands were joined. Voldemort screamed and tried to pull his wand back but Harry’s spell held fast. Gold light spun the connection between the two wands and Harry felt his feet began to rise. This time, though, he wasn’t alone with Voldemort. Ginny was there too, her hand inside his, her body moved to his side, her life and love bound for all time with his.
Voldemort saw Harry’s hand in Ginny’s. His eyes flashed fire.
“Let her go, Potter!” he shrieked.
“No!” Harry growled.
Beads of light emerged from Voldemort’s wand tip. Harry felt coldness begin to creep into his soul as they traveled up the strands of magic. Harry shuddered. Voldemort was pushing his power through the bond. He was pushing his blackness into Ginny.
“She can’t stop it, Potter. She’s too good, too pure. No matter how much she tries, she’s not powerful enough to protect you,” Voldemort screeched, fighting to keep his wand steady. “Let her go!”
Ginny tried to grab her hand from Harry’s but he tightened his hold. He knew she was trying to protect him. He heard her hiss from pain. He steadied himself as best he could and opened himself up to her.
Ginny re-gripped Harry’s hand and pushed all else away from her. She felt ill, the evil seeping through the bond, turning her blood into sludge. She dug deep and immersed herself within Harry and her ribbons, drinking up the color. She felt the strength of the love woven together begin to work and push the evil away as Harry’s magic flowed into her.
Ginny drank in his power. She took everything he could give. Their bond grew, the lights and colors behind her eyes turned brighter than mid-day. She reveled in the combined power as she wrapped her magic around it, then through it, weaving it together to form a force powerful enough to break a bond.
Harry felt the muscles in his arm quiver as he struggled to keep his wand combined with Voldemort’s, while at the same time letting Ginny take his magic. His head began to ache and his palms grew sweaty. Harry almost laughed as the desire to plead with Ginny to hurry up crossed his mind. Instead, he met Voldemort’s gaze defiantly and held on.
Voldemort’s eyes darted from Harry’s to the action below. His followers were scattered in the midst of battles of their own. He had learned before. He dared not loose his concentration by shouting down to them. His eyes flew back to his wand. He felt it shiver and he screamed.
“NO!”
Harry could read the rage and fear in the Dark Lord’s widening eyes fear as the ghostly form of Albus Dumbledore emerged from the tip of his wand. Even in death, Dumbledore was still the one wizard Tom Riddle feared more than any.
The shimmering figure of Hogwarts’ Headmaster landed gently on the ground, not making a sound in his weightless form. Unhurriedly, he tugged invisible wrinkles out of his silver robe. With a final brush of his hands down his front, Albus looked up.
“Hello, Tom.”
While Dumbledore’s voice wrapped Harry in a blanket of security, it wormed its way under the Dark Lord’s skin. Voldemort fought to regain the upper hand. He threw his head back, a hysterical shriek emitting from his open lips.
“You are dead, Dumbledore! Dead!”
“Yes, Tom, I noticed that. Slightly inconvenient at this point in time, but not unexpected.”
Harry cringed. His muscles began to burn and twitch with the effort of keeping his wand in place. His eyes stung from the sweat that dripped from his hair. He wanted to look at Dumbledore head on, to really see him one last time, but he couldn’t. To shift his gaze would give Voldemort the opening he was looking for and all they had worked for would be lost.
“Tom, you won’t win this one.”
“I already have,” Voldemort screamed.
Harry straightened his shoulders. Dumbledore’s ghostly image turned. The kind eyes glanced briefly at Harry over the rims of the half-moon spectacles. Harry inclined his head, afraid speech would somehow break the connection he was desperately trying to keep strong. He almost barked out in laughter when Dumbledore winked at him.
“Tom,” Dumbledore said as he turned, “you could have been so much more.”
Voldemort shook, insane jubilation twisting his features as the ghost of Dumbledore began to fade, the hems of his robes evaporating into mist.
“I am so much more, you old fool,” Voldemort boasted.
Harry sensed a change in the magic traveling in his direction. It flickered as Voldemort’s concentration wavered as he reveled in his impending triumph. Harry felt Ginny tug on his hand as the last wisps of Dumbledore’s ghost floated past him, filling his middle with a sense of warmth.
Now.
Harry didn’t need to see the change. He felt it. Their bond, overflowing with power, pushed against the boundaries Ginny had set. For the briefest of moments, Harry closed his eyes and was blinded by the rush of Ginny’s magic, so bright and white it destroyed all in its path. He opened his eyes, and stiffened his arm. Ginny’s hand was crushing his. He didn’t know if she could feel it, but he squeezed a little tighter. He steadied himself and felt the ribbons burst.
Ginny tore down the boundary and pushed. With every bit of energy she could find within herself, she channeled her and Harry’s combined power into a stream of lightening that shot through their ribbons, through their bond, through their hands, into Harry’s blood and out through his wand. She kept pushing, her mind searching for any stray magic that was left behind, anything to make sure this worked. She felt Harry pull forward, the force of the silent Obliteration Charm propelling him from her, toward Tom’s blood, the anchor of the bond.
Ginny felt the charm hit before she heard Voldemort’s shriek. She welcomed the pain, the tearing of the ribbons that tied her to him. She doubled over, her hand connected with Harry’s, her body on fire. She panted, dizzy from effort, blackness creeping in on the edges of her consciousness. She began to shake and whimpered from the pain.
Harry’s wand shook violently and the band of light between him and Voldemort rippled. Voldemort’s hand jerked as the spell tore through him, ripping his blood apart. His screech of agony drew stares from down below. Voldemort let go of his wand with one hand to claw at his skin, tearing the boils and sores open. His wand hand wobbled “ and then broke away. The connection was broken.
Ginny sobbed. It was too much. She couldn’t take it. She needed to stop the burning, the tearing within her blood. She saw burnt, ragged edges of ribbons, their frayed ends waving to her, telling her to let go. But she wasn’t supposed to let go. Something else was supposed to happen here. But relief beckoned. The peace, the stillness…she landed with a thump on the ground, the cool, damp grass padding her hot skin.
Harry stumbled and almost tripped over Ginny. Voldemort teetered on his feet and fell to his knees. Figures dressed in black began to descend but were stopped by a flash of auburn and a cry that bounced off every stone, still standing or long gone, as it filled the sky.
”THEY’RE MINE!”
Relief washed over Harry. That territorial declaration could only come from Molly Weasley. Harry sent a fast and silent thank you for all the love and protection Molly had given him before he turned and used that very protection to save her daughter. He reached into his and Ginny’s bond and pushed all his love for her into the ribbons. His heart clenched as he felt the resistance. He pleaded.
Come on, Gin. Just like we planned. You take my magic for the Obliteration Charm then, I give you my love to live, he willed desperately. He held nothing back. You can’t overpower the heart with love. We’re not done yet. I need you to live. Come on, Gin. Please, Ginny. I love you. I need you!
Ginny jerked as if she’d been woken from a deep slumber. Harry fell back and almost dropped his wand as what was left of Ginny’s magic flooded into him and traveled straight to his heart. His eyes watered with tears. She was alive. His mind registered Voldemort struggling to stand. He ripped the circlet from his belt. It fell to the ground, wobbling round and round until it rested expectantly in the grass.
Dropping to his knees, his hand clasped in Ginny’s, Harry flung his hand out, his wand steady. He inhaled and shouted.
“DISCENERA NATURUS!”
A stream of light, pure and untouched, born from true love, encircled the Dark Lord. Voldemort’s neck cracked as his head flew back, his mouth open in a silent scream, his arms stretched wide. He stood still, frozen in time, as the magic filled him, racing through his blood, freezing him from the inside out, seeking his spirit.
Harry felt Ginny’s presence leave his heart and her body give out as she passed into unconsciousness on the ground. He was left alone, his wand aimed, light streaming from it into Voldemort. His body ached from exhaustion. His muscles screamed to let go. He just wanted to drop his hands and lay down next to Ginny. But he couldn’t.
He swallowed hard, his eyes unable to leave the portrait of pure pain before him. Harry felt his power waver, the magic flooding from his wand flicker. Determined, Harry poked the wand into the air and redoubled his effort, taking whatever he had within him and sending it out.
Harry felt the end result before he saw it. Just as Merlin’s spirit had, Voldemort’s essence emerged. But instead of a pure entity, Tom Riddle’s spirit was a sooty snake slithering up from his insides, out of his mouth and onto the strand of magic attached to Harry’s wand. Harry screamed as his scar exploded with the full force of Voldemort’s essence.
Ginny moaned. Harry dropped her hand and covered his right hand with his left on his wand. With what was left of his physical strength, Harry pulled, his arms feeling like they were trying to move through thickening cement. Shaking, his wand moved until it pointed at the circlet, the spirit at Harry’s wrist.
His world going black, Harry’s voice rang out hoarsely, “Exonero!”
A distinct ‘Pop!’ emitted from the end of his wand and the strand of blackness representing Tom Riddle, slithered back from Harry. It hung in mid-air for just a moment before the stones in the circlet flared and sucked it down entrapping it for all time. The gems glowed, then, one by one, shot a beam of colored light into the air forming a rainbow beacon reaching for the moon and stars.
A truly beautiful sight completely missed by Harry who succumbed to the darkness, falling to the ground next to Ginny.
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Clutching Nathan’s arm with one hand, the other under her belly, Anna breathed in fresh air as her feet hit the ground. Her eyes were drawn to the sky and the beacon of light.
“It is done,” she whispered.
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A/N “ Again, I apologize for the split chapter.
No, this isn’t the end. And the next chapters are still WIP but I'll get them out asap.
My many, many thanks to wvchemteach for his endless supplies of ideas. For Anya who finds the missing p’s and q’s. To Bogus7 “ sorry, it’s another long one.
Thanks!