The days that followed Harry and Lupin’s discussion were some of the most relaxed that Harry had enjoyed that summer. His mind still strayed constantly to the prophecy and to how he would ever broach the subject with his friends.
However Harry made the decision to stop worrying about it, he felt that when the time was right he would just know and until then, there was no point in worrying about it. His friends had ensured that everything he would need for the coming school term had been purchased in Diagon Alley and now lay neatly stacked in his trunk in Grimmauld Place. As the time drew closer to September 1st, Harry found himself looking forward to it with trepidation. He was now fully recovered but had stayed at St. Mungo’s as the Order had judged it easier to safeguard him there.
He didn’t like the thought of leaving the safety of the hospital. He would miss the feeling of security the quiet hospital ward had given him, but knew that it was time to start training for the battle in earnest.
Dumbledore had been to see him a number of times. They had sat down and discussed the best way for Harry to train in order to gain the necessary strength and knowledge that would be needed to face and defeat the Dark Lord. Harry marvelled at Dumbledore’s quiet trust in his ability. It filled him with a self-belief that he was sorely lacking. He started to believe that with Dumbledore and Remus’s support, he might just stand a fighting chance.
Ginny had been conspicuous by her absence of late. The others told him that she was busy getting ready for the return to school, but Harry knew exactly why she was reticent to come and visit him. Ron and Hermione had not questioned him about what was going on between himself and Ginny. Ginny’s absence from his side over the last number of days had been obvious even to Ron. But Ron and Hermione were happily oblivious to most things these days and didn’t question it. Only Remus and Dumbledore seemed to truly realise that there was much more between Harry and Ginny than the others realised. But they kept this knowledge to themselves, knowing that Harry wouldn’t welcome the questioning that would arise if the others truly knew.
Harry was up and about, fully dressed, sitting in a chair on the ward reading one of his course books. It was the 30th of August and something told him that Ginny would have to call and see him today. He had been attempting to study his new charms book for an hour now, but found himself staring at the door more often than staring at the book.
Eventually after an hour, he gave up and walked to the window to look out. It was a beautiful sunny day, but didn’t do much to raise Harry’s spirits. The thought of having to hurt Ginny, even if it was truly necessary was plaguing him. He stared into the blue sky spotted with clouds and let his mind wander. He never heard the ward door open and close quietly as he stood there lost in his thoughts.
It was the hair standing up on the nape of Harry’s neck that first alerted him to someone else’s presence. He didn’t need to turn to know that the presence was unwelcome. Stealthily he withdrew his hand from his pocket without turning around, his fingers tightly grasping his wand. Harry hadn’t done any magic since the Dementor attack, while everyone told him that there would be no lasting effects, he still felt rather weak and the Healer had recommended he take it easy to let his magical reserves build up.
Now Harry knew that if his magical levels were depleted that this fight wasn’t going to last any length of time. Thoughts flashed through his mind in those milliseconds of time Where were the Aurors that were guarding his room? How had someone just slipped in unnoticed? What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Time was up, Harry knew he wanted to be facing whatever was coming. No spell was going to hit him in the back. He was going to fight. Wand raised, he whipped around, coming face to face with the tip of a long dark wand, his eyes travelled slowly up the wand, along the fingers and arm and shoulder of the person wielding it, finally coming to rest on the dark, insane eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Harry felt like time had slowed, he felt strangely removed from his surroundings as though he and the Death Eater in front of him existed in some strange bubble, invisible and removed from the hospital ward. Harry was almost tempted to look around him to confirm that they were still standing in the middle of a ward at St Mungo’s but he dared not take his eyes of the woman in front of him.
She stared at him intently. She seemed to be drinking in every detail of his face, his very presence.
Neither moved nor spoke. Harry had the vague impression that Bella had never imagined getting this far and the fact that she had done so, seemed to throw her a little. She did not seem sure of what to do next. ‘She could have killed me six times over by now,’ Harry thought. ‘What is holding her back?’
For some reason Harry felt calm and centred as he stood facing the woman who had murdered Sirius. It was as if a deep well of power seemed to be building within him. The sight of Bella and flicked a switch in his brain, lighting up all his happy memories of Sirius, causing them to replay over and over again in his mind. Unlike previous times when Harry would have felt all the pain and sorrow of Sirius’s loss begin to overwhelm him causing him to want to avenge that loss, the memories now seemed to be fuelling his calm, allowing him to think and plan easily despite his precarious situation. Harry didn’t want revenge. Harry wanted justice.
Bella seemed to be rousing herself from her initial surprise and began to laugh, that hard biting laugh that Harry remembered so well from the Department of Mysteries. She did not seem to be bothered with keeping her voice down, and Harry suspected that the room had been placed in a Silencing Charm. He assumed that she had also charmed the door to prevent it being forced from outside. He could tell from her face that she wanted this play to go through uninterrupted. This was between Bellatrix and Harry and there would be no last minute rescues.
Rather than panicking him, that thought seemed to steady his nerve even more. He could feel the power continue to build within him, he could feel it radiating through his fingers. Harry was ready to fulfil his promise to Sirius.
“Did you think you would never see me again Baby Potter? Little Baby Potter. Did you think that after everything that happened I would walk away and let someone else deny me the pleasure that is rightly mine? The pleasure to watch you scream in agony before you die?” Bella asked, moving away from Harry slightly, her wand still trained on his heart.
Harry had winced slightly at her words. It was the way she pronounced them. She would indeed feel pleasured in meting out pain to him.
“I couldn’t let that happen Baby Potter,” she continued, “you were mine, mine to deal with and play with and dispose of. I will not be disappointed.”
“I dunno Bella, you might want to double check with Voldemort, “Harry said, thinking on his feet, trying to buy himself some time. “ I think he has first pick when it comes to me, don’t you agree? Or maybe he doesn’t know you are here. Maybe Bella decided to do things her way without her master’s approval. Tut, tut, I don’t think he is going to be very happy with you Bella, now is he? Shall I let him know you are here? I haven’t tried before, but this,” Harry said, pointing to his scar, “allows me to connect to his mind sometimes. How about we give him a little update of your current whereabouts Bella?” Harry asked calmly circling around Bellatrix, his wand never wavering from hers. She turned slowly to keep him in front of her. He could see her waxy skin pale even more on hearing his words, and it confirmed to Harry that Bella was working independent of Lord Voldemort.
This was both good and bad news. It meant that he was not likely to be swamped with any more death eaters at the moment and dragged off for a final show down with the Dark Lord, however it also meant that Bellatrix would have to ensure that she finished the job. The Dark Lord may forgive her disobedience, if it meant the death of Harry Potter. Anything less would mean Bella would be punished perhaps even killed. Harry knew it and so did Bellatrix Lestrange.
“Silence, Baby Potter. You are a slow learner. I will just have to try and teach you to behave once again won’t I? She snapped in a hard voice, raising her wand a little higher.
Crucio.”
Harry’s reflexes were good, but a little rusty from his time in hospital, he didn’t manage to duck and roll fast enough to avoid the curse. The familiar feeling of every nerve being snapped and torn from his body overtook him mid-roll. He could hear the screams coming from his body, unable to stop himself, his mind lost in the agony of the seemingly ever-lasting Cruciatus curse.
It must have been three, four, five minutes before she lifted her wand, her eyes were half closed, a look of ecstasy and pleasure etched on her waxy face. Harry had never endured if for so long, his mind was reeling from the pain, his body racked with shakes and trembles. He struggled to roll on to his hands and knees, desperately trying to enforce calm on his tortured mind and body. A few deep breaths and he felt that well of power seeming to pulse deep within him. Harry had no idea where is came from. His wand had rolled away from him to the feet of his torturer yet this didn’t seem to worry him.
Bella was still revelling in the pleasure that the torture had brought her. Harry quickly opened his hand and whispered, “Accio Wand.” It soared into his waiting fingers, eliciting a gasp of surprise and anger from Bellatrix.
“Diffindo,” she roared in anger, causing Harry to roll away again in the hopes of missing the curse, he felt it slice along his side, from neck to hip but didn’t wait to see his injuries, he quickly stood, vaguely aware of the warm liquid pouring down his side. He had had enough.
With his wand in his left hand he quickly raised a shield to protect himself and instantly felt the pressure as spell after spell hit it and rebounded away. The power seemed to seep through him to his very finger tips, without even considering what he was doing Harry raised his empty right hand, his open palm facing Bellatrix and pushed at the air between her and him.
Instantly Bell was lifted of her feet and flung against the wall. She shrieked in surprise and she slid down the wall to the ground, quickly getting to her feet and throwing another slashing curse at Harry. The combined effort of wand and wandless magic caused his shield to flutter and die, the curse hit him along his chest, causing him to scream in agony as his chest was slit open and began to ooze blood. Once again he was thrown to the ground, his wand disappearing over one of the beds as he fell.
He found it hard to breathe and began to weaken from the prolonged battle. Every nerve, bone and fibre ached. His glasses were cracked and smeared with blood. He desperately looked for a means of escape but found none. He could hear Bella’s ragged breathing as she slowly approached him, her wand aimed directly at his heart, and he knew that this was it.
As though time had slowed, Harry let the pictures of his parents and Sirius come to his mind and flood his memories. He remembered what Lupin had said about how much Sirius cared for him, how he had loved and played with him when he was a baby. He remembered telling Lupin how he wanted more from his life, how he wanted to love and be loved. How he wanted desperately to be normal and not be hunted.
The power bubbled deep within Harry, a deep magical force combined and made stronger by his yearning to survive and live a normal life. ‘Their sacrifice will not have been in vain,’ he thought. He raised his bloodshot face to face his torturer and felt the power surge from deep within him down to his palms. Without moving he looked Bella in the eye and said calmly “It ends now Bella. This isn’t your destiny. Finish it now, give up and turn yourself in.” His words had barely died in his throat as her harsh laughter filled the room, bouncing and echoing of the walls.
“Baby Potter, I do believe you are a lot crazier than even I! I stand here before you, with my wand trained on your heart. You lie there bleeding into the carpet and tell me that it is not my destiny to finish you off? That it is not my destiny to give my Master the Ultimate Gift? Who on earth is going to stop me?”
“I gave you a chance Bella, but you refused to listen. You give me no choice,” Harry finished in a resigned tone.
Without saying anything else, he raised his empty right hand and pushed once again and the air between them. Bellatrix was raised high into the air and slammed against the wall, the force causing the plaster to crack and splinter. Harry heard the sickening crack of bone on stone. He did not move his hand, holding Bella in position against the wall. He watched her eyes lose all emotion and life as they continued to stare openly at him. Slowly Harry lowered his hand, sliding Bella down the wall to the floor where she lay silent and unmoving and unmistakably dead.
The moment her life force had left her, a cracking sound was heard, the sound of the spells she had placed on the ward being broken. Harry held consciousness long enough to register the people who dashed though the door, wands raised. He held consciousness long enough to look down and note the large red pool of blood spreading out beneath him. He remained conscious long enough to feel Ginny take his face in her hands and stare into his eyes as her tears fell. He raised a bloodstained finger to her cheek before finally letting darkness claim him.
Harry felt himself slowly return to consiousness. If he could have laughed he probably would have, at the irony of having a battle to the death just feet from his hospital bed. ‘At least The Healers were on hand,’ he thought wryly. He could hear voices and struggled into a state of greater alertness so that he could make out what they were saying.
“Professor, it could be days before he wakes up. He lost so much blood. I honestly don’t know how he managed to continue the fight at all. I think it will be weeks before he is fit to return to school. You can’t expect him to just go back as if none of this had happened. You just cant,” a voice said.
“Remus, it is imperative that he returns there as soon as possible. You know this as well as I do. Today Harry nearly died. He cannot be protected outside of Hogwarts. He must be returned there,” another voice said, one that Harry recognised as Dumbledore’s.
Harry heard it from a distance, only one part of it making any impression on his brain and that was the word ‘Today’. At least he knew he had not lost any time. It was still the 30th of August. He forced his weary eyes to open, despite the protests of his mind and struggled to focus on the room in front of him.
He heard the audible gasp that his sudden consciousness caused and was relieved when someone had the foresight to place his glasses on his face so that he could focus. He looked up to see that it was Remus who was gently adjusting his glasses behind his ears, his eyes full of worry and concern. Harry could feel the rippling of pain barely contained throughout his body but forced his mind to look beyond it and focus instead on the people standing around him.
He could sense their despair and helplessness at what he had just endured. He sensed that they didn’t understand just how momentous the events of the day had really been. His friends and guardians merely looked at this as yet another battle that Harry had faced alone A battle that he should have been spared had they all been more vigilant. But they could not have been more wrong.
He wanted to ask for help to sit up but at first found it hard to get the words out. Remus seemed to notice his distress and moved immediately to help him into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Harry couldn’t help the hiss of pain that issued from him on moving but felt rather surprised and relieved that it was bearable.
He waited a moment to catch his breath and allow his heart rate to level off, all the while taking in the worried glances of his friends gathered there with him.
“She is dead,” he stated, his voice husky and dry from his recent lack of consciousness. Dumbledore nodded slowly. Harry sighed in acceptance. “I’m not sorry. I’m not the only one she hurt. Neville lost his parents. Who knows how many more people suffered at her hands But still, I offered her a chance to surrender,” Harry said quietly, not meeting the eyes of his audience.
“I offered her a chance and she laughed at me. She was consumed by hate and by Voldemort and nothing was going to change that. I don’t want anyone feeling guilty or feeling responsible for her gaining access to me here. She was determined and nothing was going to stop her,” he said.
They still remained silent, waiting for Harry to continue. Mrs. Weasley desperately wanted to hug him and settle him down under his blankets with a dreamless sleep potion, but one look at the blazing determination in his face told her that now was not the time. To her, he seemed to have aged an inordinate amount in the last few hours. It was as if the last remnants of childhood had been shed, replaced by a young man who looked driven with purpose. The others had noticed the change too. His injuries were severe, but already he looked like someone who had been recovering for a number of days, not merely hours.
Harry finally finished perusing the blankets on his bed and raised his eyes to look at his friends. He desperately needed them to understand. “I did not kill Bella out of a need for revenge. I would have avoided killing her if at all possible. But it was going to be either her or me. Just like it will be either me or Voldemort. We both can’t survive.” At this, Ginny, Ron and Hermione looked at each other but didn’t interrupt.
Harry continued, “I have always worried that I wouldn’t be able to successfully use the killing curse against Voldemort. But today, when my back was to the wall and the only option I had was to kill or be killed, I found a way.”
He looked slowly from Remus to Dumbledore, to Mrs and Mr Weasley, Tonks, finally resting his eyes on his three friends. When he spoke, his voice was calm and full of confidence. His eyes burning with a belief that fuelled confidence in those who heard him speak. “I’m going to fight. He’s not going to win easily.”