Chapter Twenty: It All Comes Down to This
***
I'm frightened by what I see
But somehow I know
That there's much more to come
Immobilized by my fear
And soon to be
Blinded by tears
I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
***
Although he now counted with the support of both Ron and Hermione, things seemed to get steadily more complicated for Harry. He was forever faced with the prospect of a duel with Voldemort, a mortal duel he couldn’t avoid, no matter what he did. He was faced with the choice of becoming a murderer to rid the Wizarding World of the Dark Lord, or allowing himself to be beaten, killed, shattering the hopes of witches and wizards everywhere, and giving The Dark Lord free reign to do as he pleased with the world. He was forever feeling guilty for all the deaths that surfaced, day by day. He wanted to go and get it all over with, fight Voldemort and just end it all, once and for all, but the Order and Dumbledore wouldn’t allow it. They seemed dead-set on delaying the inevitable, just for a few weeks of training, a few weeks of worries and preparation.
He wanted it all to end. He couldn’t take any more of this…he couldn’t bear to know that so many people he knew, so many people he had talked to, had died. He couldn’t bear to hear as the Order members said, in hollow voices, how many innocents had died.
It wasn’t fair. He was being kept in Grimmauld Place, trapped for his safety, while all those people were slowly dying, fighting…waiting for something to save them.
Waiting for him…and not knowing, until they held their last breath, trying to hold on to their lives, that he wouldn’t come to save them.
At least the people at Hogwarts are safe, he thought, remembering something Mrs. Weasley had said on the night they arrived. Apparently, Hogwarts was now being used to refuge the families of Hogwarts students, people who volunteered to help Dumbledore, and literally anyone else that asked for help. Most of the students and their families were there, along with quite a big number of witches and wizards. They all knew there was no place that was truly safe, but Dumbledore’s mere presence gave them hope. They knew that with him around, they had more of a chance to stay alive than if they were in their houses.
Danger was looming over the school, though. Dumbledore feared that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort moved in to take over it. He himself was still determinedly staying there, though, along with the staff, with every intention of protecting the school and the people inside it if the attack should come. Voldemort was attacking everywhere else, after all.
Of course, those other battles that were currently taking place at the Ministry were nothing but a clever attempt by Voldemort to build his army further, to weaken Dumbledore’s defenses, and perhaps find a breach in them.
The terrifying thing was, he was succeeding.
Blackmail, threats, and simple murders had been enough to sway hundreds to his side”people that feared for their lives, or their loved one’s lives. People who were unable to see another way out, and allowed him to cast the Imperius curse upon them, or else willingly obeyed his orders.
People who were trapped in their fear, for to Lord Voldemort, fear was power. He used their fears against them, and that granted him an advantage over them. He used the fear he so easily instilled upon them, and brandished it to fit his plans.
That was not to say that Dumbledore was losing. He used cleverness as well, and protected those that hadn’t yet been corrupted against them. Many accepted his help, and didn’t offer any of their own, but it was enough that some did. It was enough that there was a brave witch or wizard, and that they stood up to fight against Voldemort.
And so the War had begun…
And Harry could only sit in the sidelines, watching, until something occurred that made him lose all rationality and respect for Dumbledore’s wishes. Something that threw him over the edge, unleashing a wave of daring recklessness that brought him to the conclusion that he had to take action.
Something happened, that he just couldn’t ignore.
***
Two weeks and four days later “ 2:48 a.m., Friday, April 14th, Grimmauld Place, London
Harry awoke, yet again, to a nightmare. He was used to it, these days. Ever since he had been back at Grimmauld Place, they had been very hard to avoid. They were always about the same things…the same things that never ceased to torment him. Their faces…the blood shed…the shadows…those horrible eyes…they haunted his dreams, night by night.
Tonight, it had been about her. It had started off as a completely stupid dream of them walking around the lake, looking for Dobby’s socks. But somewhere along, everything had changed. The sky above them had grown dark, the lake’s waters had become completely still under a thin sheet of ice…the temperature dropped suddenly, immersing them in a wave of both fear and unbearable cold. Harry remembered his intense anxiety, knowing something bad was going to happen…knowing what was going to happen…
He had groped to his side, trying to find her…to hold her and keep her safe…but found nothing but air. He turned, eyes darting to find her, only to see her at the other side of the lake, kneeling at the edge, as if to touch the water. He called for her, told her it wasn’t safe, that they needed to go, but she hadn’t listened…
Slowly, a figure had begun to emerge behind her. Tall, thin, hidden under a black cloak. A long rod”which Harry took to be a wand”was poking from one of the sleeves, held by white, skeletal fingers. It drew closer and closer to her, gliding towards her…and Harry yelled, yelled with all his might for her to get away, but she remained oblivious to his shouts. He wanted to move; to help, but found himself unable to. He was glued to the spot, his heart pounding in his chest from mingled fear and distress…contained to watching as the figure reached her and lowered his hood, revealing a long, snake-like face, with bright, scarlet eyes that gleamed with malevolence…with seventeen years of hate and anger…
The Dark Lord looked up at him, his eyes finding his as his mouth stretched into an evil smile…and Harry’s scar seared with pain. He fell to his knees, yelling, eyes watering…and then it stopped.
When he looked up, he was met by the sight of Voldemort holding Hermione’s head, tilting it upwards, slicing what he had thought to be a wand across her exposed neck…a thin trail of blood began to emerge, dripping down her soft skin…and she fell forward.
He couldn’t bear it. He yelled, cried her name…felt the tears trickling down his cheeks as he watched her slowly die…fading away from existence…Voldemort’s maniacal laughter ringing in his ears…
Harry shook the memory away. He felt his cheeks damp, as if he really had been crying, and his throat exceptionally dry. He fumbled in the dark for his glasses, put them on, and poured himself a cup of water from the jug on the nightstand. He choked as the liquid trickled down his throat, which felt constricted, but forced himself to swallow.
For some reason, the details of the dream were fresh in his mind, not at all like most of his dreams, where he forgot most of what he had dreamed the moment he opened his eyes…but then, all his dreams about Hermione had been this way. He couldn’t let go of that horrible image…
He didn’t feel the glass slipping from his hand. It fell to the floor and shattered, spreading broken glass throughout the floor. He cursed silently, shuffling for his wand, until someone spoke to him.
“Harry? What’re you doing up so e-e-early?” Ron mumbled, half asleep, yawning widely as he spoke.
“Nothing. I was just thirsty,” Harry whispered, “Go back to sleep,” he added, finding his wand. He pointed it to the remains of the cup, muttered the Reparo charm, and watched as they all flew together, no harm done.
What he would give for everything to be that simple…
He heard someone moving in the dark, making out the vague outline of Ron sitting up on his bed and rubbing his eyes, before his friend spoke again, “You sure that’s all, Harry? You’ve been thirsty a lot these days…you haven’t been having any funny dreams, have you?”
Harry felt the impulse to say that no, he hadn’t had any dreams. That yes, everything was fine and he had no worries apart from the Final Battle. And it was tempting, to say it and delay this conversation for a time when he was feeling less shaken, but he didn’t. Something compelled him to tell Ron the truth, whether it was because he felt as if he should honor the fact that they were friends again, or because he really did want to talk about it.
“I…yeah, I have,” he said quietly, “I don’t think they’re visions, though…nightmares, more like.”
He couldn’t quite see Ron’s face well in the dark, but Harry thought he saw Ron’s expression go from curiosity to understanding, “You’re not the only one,” said Ron shakily, “Ever since the War broke out, I haven’t had a decent sleep. I can’t help it…I’m bloody scared, Harry…what if stuff doesn’t go as Dumbledore planned it to? What if…you know…”
“If one of us dies?” Harry supplied hollowly.
Ron made an odd face between a flinch and a grimace, “Y-yeah…I don’t want us to…I mean, I don’t want anyone to…”
Harry remained silent, not knowing how to reply to that. He regretted starting the conversation now”he’d meant to confide his dreams to Ron, not talk about what would happen if one of them died. To be honest, he really, really didn’t want to think about that.
But then, he thought, my dream was about the same thing, wasn’t it? Only this time it was Hermione…but other times it’s been Ron…
“Listen, Harry…you know that…when the time for you and You-Know-Who to duel…you know we’ll be by your side right? Me and Hermione?” said Ron, speaking tentatively at first, though his voice gained strength as he continued speaking, “You won’t be alone, mate, I promise,”
Harry looked up, meeting his best friend’s eyes with a large feeling of dread. He felt his heart sinking, everything in his body going numb, as he realized that he would have to be alone if he wanted to protect his friends’ lives. If he wanted to protect Hermione’s life…
He would have to face him alone.
He didn’t know how to tell Ron this. What could he say to convince him? If Harry were in his position, after all, he would probably do anything to be by his friend’s side. No words in the world could persuade him not to.
So for now, he didn’t say a word, and sank back onto his pillows quietly, hoping Ron would let the matter drop. Hoping that for once, he’d understand without having everything explained to him…that he would comprehend why Harry didn’t say anything, and would just go back to sleep.
And to Harry’s surprise, Ron did as he hoped he would. He just leant back down on his pillows, silent…until his whisper broke the silence.
“You won’t be alone, Harry.”
***
5:22 a.m., same day; same place
It was early, but Hermione was already up. She was used to waking up early, even if today it hadn’t really been her choice. She couldn’t go back to sleep, for some reason, and she was slightly thankful for that. Lately not a night had passed in which she hadn’t had a nightmare. They were always about the same things”deaths, battles”and she always woke up with the same feeling of terror…of fear for what was soon to come.
She wanted it all to end, once and for all, but at the same time, she dreaded the time in which the War ended, for it could only end one way…
She didn’t want him to die. She couldn’t bear the thought. If he died, she would surely die as well…she could never live without him.
She smoothed out her hair, brushing a few stray strands from her face and sighing. Deciding that she would go eat some breakfast”surely someone else had to be up by now”she got up, wrapped herself in her dressing gown, and walked quietly out of the room.
She shivered, both from the slight morning chill and from the eeriness the house had. It was still dark, though not so much that she couldn’t see where she was going, and the silence was deafening. She felt as if someone were going to sneak up on her any moment…
Don’t be stupid, she told herself, there’s no one else walking around so early.
As she neared the landing, she began to hear the soft murmur of voices floating out of the kitchen. As she walked forward, she recognized the voices as being those of Dumbledore, Lupin and Moody. She quickened her pace, wanting to speak to Dumbledore, but stopped just short of the door as she caught what they were saying. She knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but something made her feel compelled to listen…
“…still haven’t found them, Albus. They reckon Voldemort got to them. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had…lately he has a way of getting things done…” that was Moody speaking, his voice low, tone grave.
“Shouldn’t we tell her? They are family…” Lupin said tentatively.
“No,” said Albus, “Not yet. She will be heartbroken, and none of us can imagine what she would do, let alone Harry. This should remain Order business, Remus, for as long as possible.”
“So we’ll continue searching for them, then?”
“Yes, every single place they could have gone to, if they left on their accord. I’ll as Severus if he knows anything, too; this might have been planned for months now if it is Voldemort’s doing…if he cannot help, then we shall have no choice…”
“We’ll have to go to Voldemort,” said Moody. It was more of a statement rather than a question.
“Albus…you don’t think…they are still alive, aren’t they? I mean, Muggles in Voldemort’s hands…” Lupin asked somberly. Hermione thought he meant to say more, but stopped himself.
“I hope so, Remus,” Dumbledore said hollowly, sighing.
There was silence, and a small pop, which probably meant that Dumbledore had been talking to them through the fire. Hermione stood outside the door, the gears in her mind frantically turning as she processed this information. She didn’t want to believe it…she didn’t want to think that they’d been talking about her parents…she really wanted to think it was someone else”anyone.
But she couldn’t.
What other Muggles would Voldemort bother kidnapping, other than her parents? Even then, it sounded slightly ridiculous, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. He probably wanted to lure the Order and Harry to him by using them.
And they had talked about how a ‘she’ would be upset, and about how Harry might do something reckless.
Slowly, she sunk to her knees, leaning her head against the wall, careful to not make a sound. She analyzed what she heard, understood it, but somehow, she couldn’t believe it. Her parents just couldn’t have been taken by Voldemort. They couldn’t have.
And then she remembered her mother’s letter…
I probably shouldn’t have written that. This isn’t safe to owl now, is it? I think I’ll talk to one of Dumbledore’s lot to see if they can send it to you. They have safer methods, do they not?
Oh, I think that is them now. Someone’s entering through the front door. Odd people…didn’t they say they would not come until the day of our move? And they know better than to just come in through the front door. Honestly, anyone could see them. They always wear those odd robes, and one even has pink hair!
And what Harry had said after reading it…
“But she sent it by owl. Even when she said that someone from the Order was entering the house as she wrote this,” Harry insisted, frowning.
“Maybe they said it was okay to owl.”
“Maybe. But what if Voldemort’s followers knew about their move? That wouldn’t be safe. The Order wouldn’t have said it was fine to send by owl.”
“Maybe it was just dad coming from work and she decided to send it by owl, since she didn’t know when the Order would be there,” Hermione hissed, eyes narrowing.
“Wouldn’t she have fixed it in the letter?”
Hermione’s nostrils flared, “What are you implying? That my mum has somehow been attacked, when Order members are patrolling by the house day and night?” she asked scornfully, fists clenching.
She couldn’t stop herself. She gasped softly, breaking the heavy silence, placing a hand over her mouth delicately. She felt her eyes stinging, her breathing becoming heavy…she heard the scraping of chairs, indistinguishable muttering, and footsteps. As if in a dream, she came to her feet, tears sliding down her cold cheeks.
She ran up the stairs as fast as she could, willing herself not to look back.
***
8:56 a.m., Saturday morning, Grimmauld Place - London
“Hermione, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked, a concerned look on her face, “Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t even touched your breakfast!”
“Yes, I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley,” said Hermione, careful to keep her voice normal, “I’m just…not very hungry.”
“Well…if you say so…” Molly said uncertainly, keeping a worried eye on her before turning to Ginny.
Harry and Ron both looked up from their plates, giving her questioning looks, but she shrugged them off. She pretended to eat a bit of toast, not really tasting the food…all the while thinking, calculating.
Ever since she’d heard Moody, Lupin and Dumbledore speaking the day before, she hadn’t stopped thinking once about her parents. They’d been brought into this, and were trapped there”she willed herself not to consider the possibility that they might already be dead”all alone, afraid, seeing no signs of help. At first, she’d fully intended to tell Harry and Ron, but she’d thought better of it. Harry would, as Dumbledore predicted, go berserk and intend on going to save them, falling straight for Voldemort’s trick.
And then she’d begun to think…what if she went to save them?
It was stupid, she knew. How could she stand a chance, after all? They were highly skilled Dark wizards, and she was a mere seventeen-year-old witch. They would kill her easily…
But what else could she do? Now that she knew, she couldn’t bear to know that the Order still hadn’t gone to save them. Were they blind? They could be being tortured…they could be on the brink of death…
She felt such despair. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to put Harry in danger, and she didn’t want her parents to be in danger. She couldn’t go herself because she would get killed, and she couldn’t confront Lupin or Moody about it, because that would be admitting she had eavesdropped on the conversation.
She couldn’t take this. She had to do something.
As she excused herself from the table, she cleared her throat quietly enough for only Ron and Harry to hear her. Giving them both significant looks, she turned and exited the kitchen, waiting for them at the foot of the stairs.
They came quickly, both looking slightly confused and worried.
“Hermione, what’s wrong”?”
“”you’ve been acting really weird”“
“”you sure you’re okay”?“
“”haven’t even opened a single book”“
She waited until they stopped talking, crossing her arms and giving them a look. They fell silent, looking at her with slightly impatient, inquiring looks.
This is it. I might as well…oh please, don’t let Harry do something stupid. Please…don’t let him think it’s his responsibility…or his fault.
“Yesterday…I…” she said softly, and slowly began to recount what she heard. She watched as they went from shock, to disbelief, and to shock again. They never spoke, but their faces seemed to have their thoughts written all over them. Harry had that look about him, like he was plotting of ways to go save them, whereas Ron looked afraid, as if he’d realized that that could happen to his parents as well. Both, however, seemed to coincide on one thought, the one Hermione thanked them for, but really wished they didn’t think like that.
“We”well, we have to go get them!” Ron sputtered, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m going, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, “We can’t leave them there. I don’t know what the Order’s playing at, but we have to save them.”
Hermione shook her head frantically, “Oh…I don’t”you can’t go. No, listen to me!” she hissed, seeing them both opening their mouths to protest, “Odds are”if my parents really are there”he’s just using them to lure you to him, Harry. I can’t let you just go. And it’ll be dangerous. None of us should go!”
“We can’t risk it, Hermione! What if they really are there? They’re your parents!”
“We’ll have to wait, then! We’ll tell the Order!”
Ron gave her an incredulous look, “Hermione, come on. They’re your parents”you’re not seriously considering leaving them in”in You-Know-Who’s hands? You’d have to be mental!”
Hermione crossed her arms at her chest, feeling her eyes stinging, “You can’t honestly suggest that we go there and save them ourselves. If one of you got hurt…it would be my fault!” her voice wavered as she spoke, and she had an air of her that suggested she wasn’t so sure whether she wanted to go or not anymore, “I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear that, Ron.”
“Then we’ll have to confront the Order! Lupin! Lupin’s here”we can just go and talk to him now!”
“No,” Hermione said firmly, her eyes now filled with tears. She looked down at her feet, “I can’t. I don’t know why I even told you two about this!”
There was silence, before Harry stepped forward hesitantly, and captured her chin with his hand. Forcing her to look up at him, he shook his head, “D’you want to know why you told us, Hermione? I’ll tell you why”because you know we have to go save them. You know they’re there. And you know if we don’t go ourselves…they might not…survive,” he said bluntly, willing himself to ignore the tears leaking from her eyes now. She had to understand, “I know it’ll be dangerous. But if we keep waiting and postponing…there’ll only be more deaths, Hermione. More innocent people”dead,” he released her chin and took a step back, fixing her with a pained, but determined stare.
Hermione wiped her tears away before looking back at them. She sniffed softly, suppressing a sob, and met Harry’s eyes. She blinked once, looking at Ron, then back at Harry, and sighing.
“What if I was wrong? What if they weren’t talking about my parents?”
“But what if you’re not wrong? You know you can’t risk that!”
Hermione bit her lip, a few tears running down her cheeks. After what seemed like an age, she heaved a sigh and said, in a dejected whisper, “We’ll never get there undetected. Either the Order or the Death Eaters will find us.”
“Are we really going to take on the Death Eaters by ourselves, mate?” Ron asked suddenly, frowning, “I mean, they’re hundreds…how…?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said truthfully, and, for the first time, Hermione saw doubt in his eyes, “But we’ll find a way. We have all day to think.”
“We’re leaving tonight?”
“Yeah,” Harry said firmly, “We can’t wait any longer.”
“No, Harry,” Hermione said, “We’ll leave when we have a plan formed. We can’t go bursting around the place without no real idea of what to do. We’ll get killed for sure.”
“But Hermione, we can’t”“
“We have to, Harry,” Hermione said, her voice slightly hollow, “If we’re really going to do this, then at least we’ll do it properly.”
“We’re going tonight, Hermione. I don’t care if you think we’re ready or not. If you want to stay, fine, but I’m not going to.”
Harry gave her an unreadable look. It was a mixture of pain, determination, and fear, yet there was something else thrown into the mix that Hermione couldn’t recognize. She held his heated gaze for a long time, not really noticing the tears that had rapidly begun to slide down her cheeks, or the way she was clenching her fists so tightly closed, that they had gone numb.
She shut her eyes closed tightly for a moment, sobbed, and turned on her heel, walking swiftly towards her room. Ron made to follow her, but Harry stopped him, shaking his head. She just needed time. She knew they had to do what Harry said.
Ron turned to Harry, frowning, “Is it just me, or does she not really understand the fact that these are her parents we’re talking about? I mean, what the bloody hell is she playing at?”
Harry met his gaze, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach, “I don’t want either of you to go. It’s me he wants…if I just went and got it over with tonight”“
“No way, Harry. If you go, we go. They’re her parents, and you’re my friend. D’you think we’ll just sit here patiently, knowing you’re risking your neck out there?” he shook his head, “And it’s more than that. It’s just…the way it’s meant to happen. We can’t let you do this alone.”
“Ron”“
“We’re going, Harry. Drop it. I think we ought to be more worried about how we’ll get past those Death Eaters.”
Harry remained silent…thinking…and then it hit him.
Get past those Death Eaters.
He met Ron’s eyes, and said, very quietly, “I think I just figured out how.”
***
11:02 a.m., same day, same place
After going through his plan several times, not explaining anything to Ron and not mentioning a thing to Hermione, Harry concluded that it was basically the most sensible and likely-to-succeed thing they could do. It was certainly better than bursting into the Ministry and demanding to see Hermione’s parents.
That was not to say that there wasn’t a danger of getting caught. There was. If any of them made a noise…if one of the Death Eaters had a way of sensing their presence…
There were so many things that could make the plan fail. So many things that Hermione would probably point out to him when he explained it to her…
But he seriously doubted whether there was anything else hey could do that had a better chance of succeeding.
It was so simple…
So easy…
Almost too easy…
But it would have to do.
Feeling Mrs. Weasley’s eyes on him, he took another bite of food. After a few minutes, he got up, excusing himself, and shot Ron a look. He walked calmly out of the kitchen and up the stairs, his legs guiding him to Hermione’s room without much effort. As he faced the door, he heaved a sigh, and knocked on the door.
No answer.
He pushed the door open, poking his head in. He caught sight of a very distressed-looking Hermione, twisting her hands nervously on her lap as she sat stiffly at the foot of her bed. She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy, her face streaked with tears, and sobbed loudly.
“Oh Harry”“ she said, her voice thick, “Lupin’s just told me…it’s true”they’ve really been taken! I-I don’t know what to do…”
He rushed towards her, enveloping her in his arms, patting her head and making soft soothing noises. After she had stopped sobbing repeatedly and seemed at least a bit calmer, he said, very quietly, “I think we should go tonight.”
“I know, Harry…but I’m just so afraid! What if you or Ron gets hurt? What if they’re already…what will I do?” she said softly, nails digging into the front of Harry’s shirt rather painfully.
“They won’t be. We’ll get them out, safe and sound, and none of us will get hurt,” Harry said firmly.
“How?”
There was a brief knock on the door, before Ron came in. His eyes found them quickly, and Harry felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was odd to explain why”Ron said he understood now, and it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong”but somehow, he still felt as if he should let go of Hermione. He felt as if he was cheeking Ron by letting him see them like this. It was incredible that such a thought could come to his mind, when there were so many other important things to be worrying about.
It was stupid…but he couldn’t stop himself from loosening his grip on Hermione, looking rather guilty. And, maybe he imagined it, but Hermione’s frame seemed to stiffen, and she moved, ever so slowly away from him, until his arms fell limply on the bed.
Ron seemed to have noticed the way he held her, too, though his expression seemed inscrutable to Harry. He couldn’t tell whether he was upset or angry, or whether he looked upon them with a sort of bitter acceptance.
But it was just for a split second. Then they seemed to remember the reason for Hermione’s crying, and Harry’s plan, and everything else that was going on.
“So, are you ready to explain?” Ron asked, sitting across from them, on Ginny’s bed. Hermione edged way from Harry a bit further, looking at him expectantly. Her expression, though still pained, held a sort of cold determination, and Harry had the fleeting impression that no matter what he said, she would agree, desperate to save her parents.
“Yeah. It’s really simple, and I think it’s the only”“
“Harry! Ron! Hermione!”
Ginny’s voice called their names, and they could hear the loud thumps on the stairs as she raced towards their rooms. She seemed to check the boys’ room first, before bursting through Hermione’s door, looking terrified.
“Gin! Are you mad? Wake up all the portraits in the house, you will! What’s wrong with you?” Ron blurted out, frowning.
“Ginny, are you okay?” Hermione asked concernedly, moving as if to get up from the bed.
Ginny sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a moment, before saying, in a hollow tone, “Hogwarts. It’s been attacked. You-Know-Who himself has gone there this time, along with the Death Eaters. Most of the Order’s there, helping Dumbledore and all those people…” her voice trailed away as she let out a noise between a sob and a sigh.
Ron leapt up from the bed and embraced his sister in a comforting hug, giving Harry and Hermione a wide-eyed look, as if asking whether they were still going to do it.
Hermione’s hand had shot up to her mouth, and she was staring, transfixed, at Ginny, though she wasn’t really seeing her. She was wrapped up in her own shock, in her own feelings of anguish and hopelessness.
Harry was staring at Ron’s shoes. He was barely breathing, barely holding himself together. He was afraid. The realization that this was probably the time for the Final Battle hit him like a kick in the chest. He couldn’t believe it had come so fast, that so quickly, the time had come and he had to battle Voldemort.
It wasn’t fear of the battle, exactly. He knew that when the time came he would face Voldemort with cold determination. It was more of a fear for what the outcome might be. It all depended on him. All those lives, including Hermione’s, depended on him.
He felt slightly sick. Could he do this? Did he have the power to do it?
“What…what about us, Ginny?”
After a few moments, Ginny pulled away from Ron to look at Harry, tears in her eyes, and said, “We’re staying here, as far as I know. Mum will look after us, and I think they mentioned Lupin…I really don’t know”by the time they started discussing that I rushed out to tell you three.”
There was a pause”then…
“But you’re not staying, are you, Harry?”
Harry looked at her, shocked, “What”?”
She gave a small, rather empty chuckle, “Oh, Harry, I may not know you as well as Ron and Hermione…but I know you well enough to know you’re not staying here while that battle’s raging back at Hogwarts.”
Harry just stared at her, and before he could even manage a coherent response to her, she kind of half-shrugged and left the room silently.
Ron met his eyes. He felt Hermione’s stare on him.
“Tonight?” he asked, not really knowing what else to say.
They nodded, “Tonight.”
***
11:37 p.m., same day; Outskirts of Hogsmade
Hermione cast Disillusionment charms on them quietly, muttering something about ‘extra precautions’, and a heavy silence fell. They looked at each other shakily, only too aware of the yells and flashes of light that were perceivable, even in the distance. They were only too aware of the fact that they were finally here. This was it. Their future depended on this night, on the faithful duel”on Harry, and they were all too aware of this fact.
Harry tried his best to not look up. He couldn’t see them really, but he could imagine them vividly, remember the expressions they had worn not more than a few minutes ago...but Hermione’s soft touch on his cheek and Ron’s incoherent mumblings made him look up anyway. He could see them, almost, Hermione, with silent tears in her eyes, Ron, pale and shaking slightly.
He didn’t know whether they intended on him speaking or not. He felt that he would throw up if he opened his mouth, though, and so opted to keep quiet.
Then Hermione leaned forward, her hand pressing against his jaw as she searched for him. She locked her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer to her in a tight hug. Harry wondered, miserably, if they would get to do this after tonight. He wrapped his arms around Hermione, already knowing the curves of her body by heart, and held her tightly, burying his face in her hair…
She moved her head, and he supposed she was looking at him, considering whether or not to kiss him. In the end, he was very pleasantly surprised to feel her lips press against his nose. She laughed softly, before lowering her lips to his.
He kissed her passionately, knowing this might very well be the last time he got to do this. He tried to tell her, through the kiss, how much he felt…how much he loved her, but ended up pulling away and whispering, under his breath,
“I love you Hermione…with all my heart…and soul…always…” he wanted to say more. He felt like he should say more. But the words seemed to get caught up in his throat, and all he could manage was that.
“I love you too, Harry. I always will,” she whispered, sighing, “Always…”
As she pulled away, Harry wondered whether Ron had heard them or not. He supposed he was deep in thought, and Harry couldn’t blame him. He himself felt apprehensive at the thought of the battle
“I can’t believe we’re really here,” Ron said suddenly, his voice low, “It seems so…unreal.”
“I wish it weren’t real,” Harry said darkly, turning to look at Hogwarts.
“We all do, mate…”
There was yet another silence, before Hermione sighed, “Come on. No sense in delaying it…and we have to save my parents. Voldemort will have brought them. I suppose he’ll be planning on threatening Dumbledore with them, or…”
Whatever else she thought Voldemort was planning, Harry didn’t know. Her voice trailed away and he head the swishing of her robes as she began running towards the school, without so much as an explanation.
“Come on,” he said to Ron, and they both began running.
He didn’t know whether or not she was near them or not. He abstained from calling her name, in case someone heard, and hoped she had sense enough to wait for them before going into the castle’s grounds.
Just as they neared the gate, he heard a whisper a few feet before him, “Stop, Harry. I’m here.”
He turned, “Ron, she’s here.”
He heard the running behind him stop, and a mutter from Hermione’s direction before she came into view. As she lifted the curse off him and Ron, Harry turned to them and said, “I think that for this to work, you and Ron should go help your parents.”
“Harry, no. You’re not fighting him alone!” Hermione said instantly, and Harry caught the hidden message behind her words.
The Prophecy.
“This has to end quickly, Hermione. If I go with you two, it might be too late for everything. And I can be a distraction. Everyone will be focused on me.”
“No, Harry,” Ron said, shaking his head.
Harry began to walk away from them, taking a few steps backwards. He reached inside his pocket, drew out a small lump, and tapped it. His Invisibility Cloak came into view, and he hastened to drape it over himself.
“Harry, please! No!”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and slipped through the gates to the grounds.
It was only then that he realized the yells had ceased. The grounds were deathly quiet, and he could discern a pile of crumpled bodies at the distance, though he couldn’t tell whether they were Death Eaters or not. The smell of smoke filled the air, as several trees from the Forbidden Forest lad been set on fire, and it was rapidly spreading across the rest of the trees near them. The grass was damp with rain, mud, and blood, making it look darker, and slightly threatening to Harry, as if it were a warning of what was to come. The castle itself looked older to him, and as he came closer, he could make out the blast marks, and the bloodstains on it.
Was this really Hogwarts?
He walked along the grounds towards the castle, careful to keep his walk steady and silent. Even if he was in visible, if he were heard, chaos would surely ensure, and it would do no one any good if it happened outside. Ron and Hermione needed the coast clear so that they could sneak inside properly, too.
He felt as if he were in a dream as he walked inside. The doors had been torn down, and were nowhere to be seen. The floor was dusty and bloody, and there were bodies everywhere. He willed himself not to look at any of the faces. He didn’t want to know who had died…if it was someone he knew…
Other than the dead bodies, the Entrance Hall was completely deserted. He had to walk extremely quietly around there, to avoid the echo of his footsteps.
He was just about to head towards the stairs, when he caught sight of the door to the Great Hall. It was ajar, half of the door blasted off. He could see just a hint of what laid beyond…and voices. There were voices…if he could just edge closer to it, he might be able to…
“Ah, Potter…we were beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”
He froze, feeling the wand pressed to the back of his head. He saw figures emerging out of thin air, all around him, all smirking and looking extremely smug. A hand grasped the cloak from behind him, pulling it off, and he found himself completely open to attack, without anyone to help him, at the hands of half a dozen Death Eaters.
He heard retreating footsteps behind him, and looked just in time to see Bellatrix Lestrange’s sneering face, partly obscured beneath the hood of her robes.
“You”!”
“Me,” she said, the merest trace of a laugh in her voice, “And you, little baby Potter, are desperately outnumbered.”
“So he’s just sending you to kill me, is he? Can’t do it himself, can he?” Harry said, unable to stop the first thing that came to his mind from pouring out of his mouth.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, and a few of the Death eaters around them grunted and hissed threats at him. Harry looked at them with what he hoped to be a brave face, narrowing his eyes as well.
“The Dark Lord, Potter, is currently sorting out that fool Dumbledore. He shall be here soon enough. Until then,” she said, smiling nastily, “we can do with you anything we want.”
Harry’s hand was halfway to his wand, when in the distance, a voice spoke.
“We do hope we’re not interrupting.”
Harry whipped his head towards the stairs. At the landing stood, looking completely determined, Luna Lovegood, Colin and Dennis Creevy, Ernie Macmillan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, along with a large cluster of sixth-years Harry didn’t know, and most of the DA.
Bellatrix and the Death Eaters stared up at them, apparently caught off guard. Harry heard someone mutter, in a low voice, “Of course…the castle is no doubt being used as a shelter. That’s why they were guarding it,” he paused, “But where are the rest of them?”
Harry took advantage of the confusion, and took out his wand quietly. Pointing it in Bellatrix’s direction, he cried, “Stupefy!”
As soon as he had spoken, the hall erupted with noise and movement. Harry’s friends charged down the stairs, shooting curses in every direction, narrowly missing each other as they did so. The Death Eaters, all of whom had had their wands ready as well, began shooting incantations in Harry’s direction. Harry ducked; Bellatrix conjured a shield, while the Invisibility Cloak slid from her grasp. Harry lunged for it, but was met instead with a hard kick to the side of his face from Bellatrix. He fell backwards, eyes watering, his face searing with pain, and it was only a second before she caught him with the Cruciatus.
Every single inch of him exploded in pain. It was in his bones, in his blood…every breath he took increased the pain, every second he yelled sent another wave through his body…his body twitched and writhed on the floor, shaking. His wand fell from his grasp...it looked so far away…if only he could reach it, he might be able to retaliate…
It seemed to never go away…he was going mad…he could hear Bellatrix laughing maliciously, hissing things at him…he could see the flashes from the curses that were going all around…hear his friends as they tried to get to him, yelling instructions at each other, fighting against the Death Eaters…
He couldn’t take it much longer…he was going insane…he wanted to die, for it to end already…he didn’t care anymore…
And then it stopped. Harry lay on the floor, gasping, still twitching. The noise around him seemed to increase by ten as he raised his head to look, and everything was blurry. He could see Bellatrix struggling with someone on the floor; apparently they had thrown themselves at her to stop her. He had a funny taste in his mouth…something was trickling down his nose…he raised his hand to it, wiped it off carelessly, vaguely noting the red tinge in his fingers as being blood.
He summoned his wand. No one seemed to realize he was getting up. The Death Eaters were under attack, and, though they certainly weren’t much of a match for them, the students outnumbered them by many. Bellatrix was still rolling around on the floor…their wands were thrown beside them. If he could just get up, he could help them…
He raised his wand, pointing at them. It was hard to get a good aim when his vision was still blurry, and the two people were wearing black robes, but he took a chance. Wincing, he said hoarsely, “Impedimenta!”
At first, nothing happened. He figured the Cruciatus curse had weakened him, but tried again, feeling slightly desperate.
The second time, a feeble ray of light erupted from his wand, before it began to gather strength from somewhere deep inside him. With a massive effort, he managed to stay on his knees as the spell became stronger and shot towards the two, prying them apart and throwing them back twenty feet. As they began to come to their feet, Harry caught sight of the plump, round face of Neville Longbottom, screwed up in mingled pain and concentration, eyes locked on Bellatrix.
But before he could register this thought, someone caught him from behind. They bound him in ropes, causing him to lose his balance and fall flat on his face. He heard jeers behind him, and footsteps approaching him. He rolled on his back, finding the towering figure of a Death Eater heading towards him. A mask hid his face, but Harry could make out the cold, gray eyes…
“Potter. How…convenient that I should be the one to get rid of you.”
No. It couldn’t be. Malfoy? He was a Death Eater? What…?
Malfoy seemed to notice the look on his face, and chuckled nastily, sliding off his mask and throwing it aside. Harry stared back at him in shock, watching as he brandished his wand menacingly, as if trying to decide what curse to use on him. As Malfoy pointed his wand at him, Harry managed to open his mouth and sputter, “Coward.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and darted towards Harry’s, before he smiled and said, in a malevolent whisper, “You know what, Potty? You’re right,” he stepped back several feet, waving his wand at Harry. The robes binding him disappeared, and he looked at Malfoy in shock.
“You fancy a duel, then? Fine. Get up,” Malfoy called to him, his eyes shining maliciously.
Harry came to his feet shakily, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve and pointing his wand at Malfoy. In a split second, Malfoy had already moved and sent a jet of black light in Harry’s direction. Harry casted the Protego Auctus shield, and watched, amazed, as the jet of light did not reverberate from the shield, but continued to press on it. A hissing sound began to fill the air, and Harry continued watching, feeling only slightly worried, as the spell began to create a hole in the shield.
Harry cursed under his breath, and did the only sensible thing that came to mind. He jumped aside, just as the spell was about to cut through the shield, and grimaced as he heard someone behind him yell in pain. He turned his eyes on Malfoy, teeth bared, trying to think quickly of a curse to use against him.’
But, apparently, Malfoy had this all planned out. Grinning, he waved his wand, and yelled, “Tagliare!”
Harry didn’t move, though. He uttered the first spell that came to mind, “Flamora!”
The two beams of light met in mid air and ricocheted off in different directions. Harry’s spell shot towards the door to the Great hall, setting what was left of it on fire, and Malfoy’s hit another Death Eater, who yelled in pain, clutching his upper arm.
Harry took advantage of the momentary confusion and pointed his wand at Malfoy, “Impedimenta!”
Malfoy was thrown back into a wall. He slumped to the floor, remained there for a few moments, and began to get up. His head had fallen over his face, though Harry could make out the flush that had appeared there, and the death glare he was receiving. He saw Malfoy summon his wand, and, before he could do anything, a jet of green light burst from his wand and pelted towards him.
Harry felt it before the spell even managed to reach him. His breathing became more forced, as if someone were snatching it right from him…he began to feel weak, and rather sleepy…what he would give to curl down on the floor right then and close his eyes…his brain seemed to shut off completely, and he just stood there, waiting…he felt all happiness wash away from him…he was left with an intense feeling of despair, as if he would never ever be happy again, and found himself wishing, for the second time that night, that he were dead…
But just as the curse was mere feet away from him, a light seemed to turn on in his brain. His breath came back to him, and he felt an inexplicable surge of energy and strength. He saw Ron and Hermione’s faces, smiling at him, and they gave him confidence. A light erupted around him; surrounding him…he was raised a few inches of the floor…the pendant was gleaming under his robes…
The curse simply disappeared, without a trace. Malfoy looked at him, mouth open in utter shock, and made to curse him again, but Harry already knew what to do. Flicking his wand at him, he muttered, “Stupefy!”
No light erupted from his wand, and yet, as he squinted at Malfoy, he could see him slumped against the wall, head inclined towards his chest, obviously unconscious.
Harry was slowly lowered to the ground. He turned, seeing all of the Death eaters engaged in heated duels. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw so many of his classmates unconscious, thrown on the floor. Some seemed unharmed, while others were bleeding heavily, clearly injured. He felt a surge of anger inside him as he watched them. They weren’t supposed to be in this battle. They were at Hogwarts for their safety!
He couldn’t stop himself from feeling thankful, though; had they not shown up, he would have had to take on all those Death Eaters by himself.
But I had the pendant. It reacted to Malfoy’s Killing Curse like that, so it would have probably saved me from them anyway, he reminded himself, feeling guilty now. It was his fault that they were there. His fault that some of them wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. His fault that they were injured…
It was all his fault.
No.
It was Voldemort’s.
Everything that happened in his life, everything that was happening now”it was because of Voldemort. And he, Harry, shouldn’t be blaming himself. He should go after him. End this now, before more died. End it now, before he went mad…
And so, he turned towards the doors to the Great Hall. With a wave of his wand, the fire was gone, its ashes being the only proof that it had ever been there. He walked slowly towards it, careful to avoid catching someone’s unwanted attention, and slipped through the doors.
His scar prickled painfully…a chill ran down his spine…
The hall was brightly illuminated, and looked completely unharmed. Everything looked spotless, gleaming, just as it had looked the last time Harry had been in it, though with a few noticeable changes.
Ron was gagged and tied at the far left corner of the hall, while Hermione was on the far right, in the same condition. Death Eaters stood on either sides of him, faces hidden by masks. The house tables had been vanished, probably destroyed, and only one piece of furniture remained. Dumbledore’s high backed chair was placed in the middle of the room, its back to Harry. He could just see the top of the person’s head, though he already knew who it was. Who else would it be?
No one spoke. Hermione kept making noises, as if trying to speak to him, but nothing she said was distinguishable. Harry glanced at the Death Eaters on either side on him uncertainly, wondering why they weren’t attacking him, or at least saying something.
He began to walk forward, uncertain. He neared the chair, wondering why no one was stopping him. He stretched his hand forward, grasping the edge of the chair, bracing himself for his scar’s outburst, but found that it didn’t hurt at all. It continued hurting in the same way it had since he entered the room.
This must be some sort of trick, he thought, What’s going on?
He moved around the chair, willing himself not to look just yet until he was right in front of it. He opened his eyes, and he felt all the air vanish from his lungs. His legs went numb, his heart was racing…
Dumbledore was sitting in the chair, blood pouring from the side of his head. His face was blackened with soot and dried blood, and his glasses were broken. His arms were twisted violently in odd angles, as if they were broken, and his legs…they looked as if they had been hit with a very, very dark spell. Harry felt sick. The skin was slowly degenerating before his eyes…
He began shaking his head, “No…” he muttered, “No, this can’t be…” his eyes were locked on Dumbledore, and he seemed unable to look away. He couldn’t believe it. It had to be a trick. It just had to be. Dumbledore couldn’t be dead.
Hermione made the loudest muffled noise yet, fighting with the ropes that binded her. Harry turned to look at her, eyes widened, as if asking her whether it was true. Her eyes were wide, fearful, and filled with tears, and she shook her head, mumbling something.
The Death Eater nearest to her looked at her menacingly, and pointed his wand at her. A ray of red light hit her and her head slumped forward, unconscious.
Harry felt an urge to go and throttle the Death Eater who did that. Indeed, he was about to move, when Ron yelled behind him, in a clear voice, “H-rry! W-tch out!”
Harry whipped his head around in time to see the towering figure of Lord Voldemort heading towards him, wand at the ready. There was a mutter, and a jet of light shot towards Harry. He jumped to his left, crouching behind the chair, and watched, in awe, as the scenery around him changed drastically. The floor beneath him developed cracks and turned into a dull grayish color, while the walls were suddenly darkened by blast marks and bloodstains. The fire in the torches was extinguished, and the chair in front of him disappeared. More than half of the Death Eaters vanished, leaving two, which were guarding Ron and Hermione.
Voldemort looked down on him, a cruel smile playing across his thin lips, “We meet again then, Harry Potter…it shall be a pleasure to finally rid myself of your troublesome existence.”
“Where’s Dumbledore? What have you done to him?”
“Did you not see him just a few moments before, Harry?” Voldemort asked, a definite note of cruel smugness in his voice.
“That”that wasn’t true. He’s not. He”he isn’t...”
“Your Mudblooded friend had the pleasure of witnessing it all. A shame, really, since she won’t be able to tell you about it.”
There was a pause, in which Harry stood up, narrowing his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides, still holding his wand. Voldemort stared back at him, that smirk still there, clearly enjoying the way Harry had reacted to his words. Their eyes never left each other, scarlet boring into green. Hate radiated from them both, as they stepped backwards, allowing a distance of twenty feet between them. They raised their wands, knowing what they should do.
“It is time, Harry, for this to be finished,” Voldemort said softly, “I have waited long enough.”
“I’ve suffered long enough. I won’t be seeing you.”
Voldemort laughed sardonically, raising his wand and flicking it at the ground. There was a loud rumbling sound, and the floor began to tremble. Harry distantly heard the shrieks from the Entrance Hall, Ron’s surprised gasp, Voldemort’s laughter…
An invisible force burst through the ground and shot towards Harry, sending chunks of the floor flying in different directions as it did so.
It moved too quickly. As soon as it hit Harry, he was lifted off his feet and thrown, very painfully, into the small space of wall over the entrance to the Great Hall. His head seared with pain, and he slipped…he was heading towards the floor…the was going to fall…
But Harry’s hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed hold of the edge. He vaguely noted the glow of the pendant, and smiled triumphantly. His gaze wandered to Ron, who was lying unconscious, his face slightly bloody, and frowned. The he looked at Hermione, the memory of the prophecy coming back to him, and, with his free hand, brandished his wand, pointed it towards her, and muttered, “Enervate.”
Voldemort didn’t bother turning to see what he had done. He merely smiled even more widely, flicking his wand over his back, in Hermione’s direction. The robes around her disappeared, and the cloth that had been used to gag her was gone. Her hand shot for her wand, which the Death eater had been holding loosely at his side, and made a quick job of Stunning him.
Harry watched Voldemort turn with unease. He wished he could let go of the edge”he had to help Hermione”but his hand seemed glued to it. Every time he tried to let go, the pendant glowed and his hand gripped the edge tighter.
Voldemort waved his wand at Hermione, who had been watching him, transfixed, and she was levitated up in the air. He moved to a spot in the middle of the Hall, and lifted the Levitation Charm, watching her as she fell to the ground. His eyes shot up towards the spot where Harry was, and he smiled maliciously, “It seems you are opposed to this being a duel between us, Potter,” he said softly, twirling his wand between his fingers, “Apparently, I will have to dispose of this filth in order to rid myself of you.”
Harry began moving frantically, trying to pry his hand from the edge. He cursed loudly, hissing at the pendant, “You stupid thing! I need to help her! Damn it! Let me go!”
Voldemort lowered his wand to Hermione, “I will start off simple. Crucio!”
The air was suddenly filled with Hermione’s screams. They reverberated off the walls, echoed in the space…in Harry’s head…he felt as if he were sharing her pain, as if he were the one under the curse. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t see her in such pain, maybe even wishing, like he had earlier, to die…for it to end…
He didn’t notice it when his hand began loosening its grip on the edge. He didn’t notice it until he began to fall to the ground, but as soon as he did, he pointed his wand at Voldemort. He felt seventeen years of suffering, seventeen years of mystery and trials…he felt hatred like he had never experienced before, pouring out of him. He felt every single thing that had happened to him on Voldemort’s account, rising to the surface, almost drowning him in a mix of emotions.
And then, he yelled, with all his might, “Avada Kedavra!”
He wished for it all to end…for it to be over…
The spell had barely left his wand when Voldemort lifted the curse off Hermione and shot a Killing Curse towards Harry as well. He didn’t notice it, racing towards Hermione and enveloping her in his arms. She gasped, shaking her head, pointing towards the ray of light that was now speeding towards them. Harry let go of her, and did the first thing that came to his mind.
He pushed her behind him, and braced himself for impact.
Several things happened in very quick succession.
First, Harry felt Hermione’s hands closing around his shoulders. She leaned her head on the side of his neck, tears trickling down her cheeks and onto his robes.
Second, the pendant around Harry’s neck began glowing brighter than it had all night. Harry thought it would burst out of his robes, but it simply untangled itself from his clothes, and came into view.
And third, the Killing curses reached their destinations. One hit Voldemort, and Harry heard his yell of mingled frustration and confusion. The other hit Harry, straight in the chest.
A bright green light shone all around him. He still regained some consciousness…Hermione was crying, sobbing…everything was becoming blurry…a sharp pain shot across his body…the pendant shone brighter, as did the light around him, and he yelled, for the pain intensified…a sharp gasp was heard from Hermione…they were both yelling…falling into the darkness…
And then he knew no more.
***
Three weeks later “ The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
“I think”yes, Madam Pomfrey! He’s opening his eyes! Oh, Harry!”
He could hear her distant voice, speaking. She seemed over the moon with joy, calling Madam Pomfrey frantically. He blinked once, twice, but still, all he could see was black. He grunted, raising his hands to rub his eyes, but it had no effect. Starting to feel worried, he cleared his throat and said, hoarsely, “Hermione?”
He heard a sob, and the next thing he knew, soft hands were closing around him. He could smell her hair over his face as she held him tightly, sobbing onto his shoulder. She mumbled a lot of things, apparently explaining things to him, but he didn’t understand.
“Harry…I’ve been so worried…I thought you’d…oh…” she whispered, sobbing again and pressing her lips to his briefly, before pulling away, “Do you feel okay?”
“I”I can’t see, Hermione.”
“Oh…well, Madam Pomfrey said that might happen…” she whispered, her voice strangely high-pitched now, “I don’t think it’s permanent…” she added uncertainly, more to herself than to him.
Frantic footsteps were heard, and the next thing he knew, a dozen voices were speaking at the same time. There was a loud hissing noise, and Madam Pomfrey pushed through the crowd, “Potter,” she said, her voice soft, very much unlike her usual brisk manner, “You have to drink this potion here. It’ll clear off any side-effects from the other potions I gave you…”
Harry felt the edge of a cup pressing against his lips, and an extremely bitter liquid pouring into his mouth. He screwed up his face in disgust, but swallowed it, coughing slightly. Slowly, the sight before him began to come into view, first extremely blurry, until he could see everything properly.
“And you’ll need this one, too,” madam Pomfrey added, handing him a small vial of bubbling liquid, which he drank without comment.
“Harry,” Ron said, peering at him with a worried expression, “You…you did it,” he said simply, his voice filled with awe, “You…you got rid of him.”
It was only then that all the memories from the Final battle came back to Harry’s find. They flooded his mind, numbing his senses, and he looked back at Ron in shock, "H-How long have I...?"
"You've been in a coma for three weeks, mate. You had us really worried..."
Harry frowned, “Wait a minute”I’m supposed to be dead”he got me with an Avada…I’m supposed to be”“
Hermione shook her head, “The pendant protected you, Harry.”
“And…but what about”the prophecy?”
“The second one, you mean?”
“Second one?” Ron repeated, frowning.
Hermione glanced at Ron, “We’ll tell you later,” she said hurriedly, before turning bacl to Harry, “Well, apparently, we fulfilled it…Dumbledore says”“
“He’s alive?”
“Yes, what Voldemort showed you was a trick. Anyway, he says that by holding you as the curse came in contact, I transferred my energy to you, thus ‘working in alliance with you’. The pendant helped loads, obviously, and you had a lot of power, but it wouldn’t have been enough if I hadn’t been there. You would have died, along with Voldemort.”
Harry processed this bit of information, before nodding, and saying slowly, “So…he’s gone? What about the Death Eaters?”
Ron nodded, “You-Know-Who”I mean, Voldemort’s gone. The Death Eaters are still running around, though. The Ministry’s still a mess, so they haven’t been able to round them up yet. Dumbledore’s helping, of course, but you know…”
“And what about Hermione’s parents?”
Hermione smiled, “As soon as Voldemort’s lot attacked Hogwarts, Dumbledore sent some Order members to look for them. They found them…some Death eaters were…well, anyway, they found them and brought them with everyone else that was hidden here.”
Harry frowned, “Where were they hidden?”
“Ancient underground passages, under the school. They’ve been there since the time of the Founders, to be used in cases of great emergency. Only the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the school ever knew about them. I think they’ve only been used once before…” she said thoughtfully, “Anyway, there were apparently a few entrances to them, and mum and dad were ushered inside just as you were coming in.”
“Didn’t you go looking for them?”
“Yeah,” said Ron, “but we only managed to sneak past you and those other Death Eaters in the Entrance Hall before we got caught. We’d gone to search in the Dungeons, you see…”
Harry slumped back on his pillows, processing all the information. It seemed so surreal. Everything was really over. He felt as if a massive load had just been lifted off his back.
“Trewlaney? And Pettigrew, what happened to him?”
“Trewlaney’s fine, she’s up in her Tower now, I think,” Hermione said, “As for Pettigrew, Voldemort murdered him after his followers brought him back.”
Harry nodded again, wondering if this was a dream. Could this be possible? Could it all be over? It felt so satisfying, knowing that Voldemort was gone…that he had saved all those people…that he had finally done it.
As if reading his thoughts, Hermione smiled, saying, “You really did it, Harry.”
“It’s over, mate,” said Ron, smiling.
And he found himself sitting back up and hugging Hermione very tightly, before hugging Ron as well. He thanked God; he thanked Merlin, for everything. He thanked them for being here, safe and well, for having them at his side, for having defeated Voldemort, for Hermione’s parents being alive…
For his choices, because thanks to them he was here…
Thanks to his choices, he had Hermione…thanks to them, he defeated Voldemort…thanks to them, he was the way he was, and thanks to them, he was different than Voldemort and Malfoy and all of those people.
Thanks to them, he was here, with a new beginning.
” FIN ”
***
Disclaimer bit: The song lyrics at the beginning are not mine”they belong to Evanescence, and are from their song, “Whisper”
Author’s Note: Well, it’s over. Congrats to you, by the way, because you’ve just read through this monster of a last chapter. =D These were supposed to be two chapters, you know, but I decided to throw it all in together. Anyway, thanks to all of you for reading, and thanks so, so, so much for all your reviews! They really helped me shape the plot, not to mention that they gave me a lot of confidence. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
Thanks to Stephanie, who modded most of the chapters. Thanks to her, this chapter might be up before HBP. =) If not, it's okay. My grattitude goes out to her anyway.
I’m actually very satisfied to see the story end. I loved writing it”really, I did”but it had to end sometime. =)
Cheers,
~ Croyez