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SIYE Time:15:14 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Final Flame
By YelloWitchGrl

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, General
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 235
Summary: COMPLETED!!! Following the events Harry Potter is focused and determined to fulfill a destiny that only he can fulfill. Simple isn't it? Track down and destroy piece by piece the Darkest Wizard to ever live. If only things were that simple for Harry. Watch as the his best friends come closer together, the Order crumbles with a traitor in their midst, and the people he cares about the most suffer through heartache and trial. Can Harry succeed and if he does will there be anything for him to come home to?
Hitcount: Story Total: 174938; Chapter Total: 5909





Author's Notes:
Sorry for the wait!

Thank you JPx and Ninkenate for beta'ing for me!

If you want to discuss this chapter, or any others, please see my profile and join my Yahoo Group.




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After a huge lunch they went back outside to the forest to track down another snake. They Apparated themselves further down the main road that bordered the trees and stood facing the trees.

Ron broke the silence. “Well… shall we go in, then?”

Harry was dreading it. While he knew that he could probably persuade a snake from attacking them, it still seemed counterintuitive to go looking for a snake in the middle of an unknown forest. “Right,” Harry murmured and took the first step. It was his quest, after all. He should be the one to get bit first.

They followed closely behind him through the densely packed trees. Harry carefully moved the branches away for Hermione, who held them out for Ron. Several times, however, he seemed not to be paying attention and was smacked in the head by them.

“Look out, Ron!” Hermione called anxiously as he tripped over a tree root.

He came up swearing. “Ruddy trees, ruddy spiders…” the list went on and Harry had to hide his smile.

They had walked for nearly an hour, with Harry calling out in Parseltongue, before they found what they were looking for.

“How old are you?” Harry asked the large, striped snake.

It coiled its long body up and looked carefully between them before answering. “I have sseen sseven ssummersss.”

Fantastic! That was old enough. He quickly translated for the others before asking his next question. “Do you recall a time when an evil force lived here?”

Shaking its head, the snake replied, “I do not know of what you sspeak.” Without anything further, the snake uncoiled and began to slither off.

“Wait!” Harry called after it but before he could get a response, it had blended into the foliage.

“Well that was useless,” Harry grunted and began his trek further away from their camp.

They came around three more snakes that evening who were old enough to recall Voldemort, each said the same thing, “I do not know of what you sspeak.”

“It has to be a conspiracy,” Hermione said as she sat down at the small kitchen table later that evening. She cradled her cup of tea between her hands, staring down into the steaming liquid.

Ron popped a tart into his mouth and took a swig of his own tea. “So you think that the snakes got together one afternoon and said, ‘let’s just not talk about him’?”

Harry wanted to laugh but the more that he thought about it, that was exactly what it felt like they had done. “This isn’t going to get us anywhere, then. If we can’t get them to talk…”

“Why don’t we catch one?” Ron asked, scooting back in his chair and taking his cup to the sink. “We could force it to talk.”

“Only if it doesn’t bite us, or worse, lie about what it knows,” Hermione reminded him, standing too and dumping her tea down the drain.

Harry handed his cup over to Hermione, who magically cleaned them and put them away. “So what options do we have?”

“Not many with the snakes, I am afraid. At least we know that he was here.” Hermione wandered over to the couches and sat down, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

Harry sat across from her while Ron took his usual place, at her side. “How do you figure?”

She smiled at him before scooting a bit closer to Ron, who put his arm around her shoulder. “Well, if the snakes are saying the same thing, they obviously know something and are making a concerted effort to hide it. That implies guilt by omission.”

Ron picked up a stray hair from her shoulder before asking, “Do you think you could translate that into English for us?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I simply meant that if they won’t say anything and they’re all saying the same thing, then they obviously know the same thing. The fact that these snakes in that one area know something means that we’re probably close to where Voldemort was.”

“So what is our next move?” Harry reiterated.

“We’re going to have to look in town again to see if we can find any information.”

Harry and Ron groaned. They had felt stupid the first time they had tried to get information from the national paper.

“If that’s the case then I think I will turn in,” Harry muttered and stood, leaving his best friends alone. He heard Ron turn in about 15 minutes later.




“No town that is big enough to have a paper!” Hermione jabbed at her map on the kitchen table the next morning. “We’re near several large farms and there are towns, of sorts, here but nothing large enough to find what we’re looking for.”

“So do we go back to that other city?” Harry questioned. He couldn’t remember what it was called.

“Tirana?” Hermione studied the map again and shook her head. “No, I think we’ll try asking the locals first and see if we can’t get a story from them.”

“We still don’t speak the language,” Ron reminded her.

She shrugged and headed for the tent flap. “We’ll figure something out.”

They walked north along the road that bisected the forest for nearly an hour before it cleared to their left and became farmland. The dirt road became rutted and well used as they followed it past a farmer, who waved at them. Hermione stopped to speak to him and using her dictionary, she managed to get basic directions to the nearest town.

“This is the town?” Ron asked incredulously half an hour later when they arrived at the small cluster of buildings. He turned to Harry, laughing. “There’s a market and a pub!”

“Not sure you need anything else,” Harry said reasonably as Hermione tisked in annoyance.

“Come on, let’s see if we can find something,” she said as she ushered them towards the market. They walked in to find produce and a few manufactured goods on shelves. Using her halting Albanian, she spoke to the shopkeeper.

It took her about five minutes of hand gestures and much laughter from the gaunt man at Hermione’s pronunciations, to find out that no one in town spoke English.

“Well this is a wash,” she told them after buying a bit of food from the man. At Ron’s questioning glance, she explained. “I am helping the local community by supporting that store.”

Mercifully, he didn’t comment on it further. “What do we do now, then?” Ron asked as they walked past the pub.

Hermione checked her watch as they stared at her, “I think we should-”

“Charlie?!” Someone shouted out, interrupting her.

The three spun to see a huge man standing at the threshold of the bar, staring at them in shock.

“D’ya mean Charlie Weasley?” Ron questioned, squinting at the man.

“Yeah, but you’re not-” his voice was deep and gravely.

Ron shook his head, “Nah, I’m Ron, his youngest brother.”

The man’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding! You’re Ron?” He came forward, his strides long and sure. “I haven’t seen you in, what, six years?”

Ron glanced sideways at Harry, obviously confused. “Sorry, do I know-”

“Mark Wliberg,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I went to school with your brother. I was at your house the summer after we finished Hogwarts.”

Comprehension lit Ron’s eyes as he took the man’s hand. “Right, I’d forgotten.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have recognized you anyway. You were a midget the last I saw you. How have you been?” His smile was easy as he stuck one hand into the pocket of his worn jeans and leaned back on his heels.

“Fine,” Ron answered. After a pause, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh, uh this is Hermione and Harry.”

He shook their hands and for once, it seemed like someone hadn’t recognized Harry. “So what are you doing in Albania?”

Harry looked to Hermione, who glanced back nervously before answering. “We’re on holiday, actually. I’ve always wanted to come here, and we had some time, what with Hogwarts closing.”

“Ah,” was all he said and it was clear that he didn’t believe them. “Well, I am actually surprised that you’re not in the magical part of the country but I can’t say that I blame you. The countryside here is beautiful.”

It was and they all nodded in agreement but Hermione seemed to be the only one who could answer. “Yes, I am hoping to work for the Ministry when we finally graduate and work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Harry and Ron nearly ruined it by laughing. It was so far from the truth that it was amazing they were able to hold it in. “So what do you do, Mark?”

Mark’s expression didn’t change, “I’m a dragon keeper with Charlie. Speaking of which, how’s your sister?”

At the mention of Ginny, Harry’s heart began to hammer in his chest. How did he know her?

“Oh, Ginny’s fine… I think.” Ron shrugged, “You might not have heard, but she ran away from home.”

“I had heard, actually. I was with Charlie last week and he told me that she’d run off.” His face softened a bit. “I had hoped that she’d have shown up by now.”

“No, well, I am sure she’s fine,” Ron answered.

They didn’t know that and the thought of it was eating at Harry. More importantly though, what was this man doing in a rural town of Albania when he should be in Romania with Charlie?

Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines because she casually asked what was on Harry’s mind.

“Uh, about that. I’m chasing down a rogue dragon,” he explained after he winked at her. “As soon as I find it, I’ll call in a larger team to capture it and move it to a safer, Muggle free, location.” He nodded at the pub, “I was questioning the locals about it but it doesn’t seem to be here so I’m moving on. Where are you three staying?”

“Tirana,” Hermione replied hurriedly, but covered her nerves with a grin. “We’re staying at a hostel there.”

“Ah,” after another awkward pause, he stuck out his hand again and shook hands all around. “Well, it was nice meeting you three. I had best get back to work.” With that, he spun and walked off whistling towards the opposite direction they had come in from.

They watched him go for a minute before Harry spoke. “That was odd.”

“Yes, it was. A very odd coincidence and not one that I trust.” She started walking resolutely out of town. “Come on, we’re going back.”

They made it a safe distance out of town before walking into the forest and Disapparating back to where they’d concealed the tent. They went in and sank onto the couches.

“You don’t think that Mark was looking for us, do you?” Ron questioned, turning in his usual seat to look down at her. “I mean, he’s Charlie’s friend.”

She turned away from Ron for a minute and Harry saw the sorrow etched upon her face. “I don’t know, Ron, but we can’t be too careful. If Voldemort finds out that we’re here, then…”

Harry knew what she meant. “Then the game is up and we’ve lost. He’ll know that we know.”

She nodded and sniffed once before swiping at a lone tear. “What if this has ruined everything?”

Ron hesitated for a moment and then pulled her into his arms. She didn’t seem to be crying but neither did she pull away.

Harry shifted in his seat and then got up, walking quietly from the tent to look out at the horizon. Not too long ago, he was doing that exact thing with Ginny… except that Ginny wasn’t ever crying. In fact, now that he thought of it, he’d only seen her cry once and that was after the Chamber.

It was bittersweet, to remember her, especially in these moments. He knew that his friends were going to get together for years now but with the time upon him… he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It was true that they had fought less since the summer had begun but what if they turned on each other? Was he being selfish by wanting their friendship to remain intact?

“Harry?” He turned at Hermione’s soft voice. “Are you all right?”

And suddenly he knew that he was. He grinned and nodded, “I’m fine and I don’t think Mark will tell anyone about seeing us.”

Hermione beamed at him and began to rattle off her plan for what they would do next.




It turned out, however, that Harry was wrong. Mark not only told someone where they were, but the three found proof of it wandering the road the next day.

They stared in horror as they realized that Charlie was stalking towards them down the dirt road.

“Oh bloody hell,” Ron grumbled as his brother walked straight up to him, getting into his face.

“You are a git, you know that right?” Charlie pulled Ron up by the shirt, and pushed him back until he’d slammed him into a tree.

For his part, Ron didn’t react other than to say, “Mark found you, did he?”

“Yeah, he did. He had the sense, something you seem to lack, to floo me after he saw you.” Charlie let out a loud hiss and backed off. “Mum is having a fit at the fact that you three disappeared. She’s got everyone looking for you since you left the country.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione all gasped. “So…” Hermione stuttered. “So everyone knows we’re gone?” Her voice had taken on a slightly hysterical quality.

Charlie froze and looked between them. “Some of the Order does, that’s for sure. Why?”

Ron groaned and slid down the tree to the ground, burying his head in his hands. “We’re dead.”

Harry tended to agree. Voldemort had spies everywhere but it was the Order…

Suddenly Ginny’s voice was filling his head again. Do you trust everyone in this room? The dream he’d had a few days ago, the one that had awaken him at the train station. It was about her and that dance. She kept saying it over and over to him. But why?

“Harry?” Hermione’s anxious voice brought him from his reverie.

“Sorry… I just… we might need to get out of here,” he said, glancing around reflexively to see that no one was watching.

“Why?” Charlie asked, apparently deciding that pummeling Ron for worrying their mother could wait.

Hermione looked down at her feet and kicked at a small stone. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “I gathered that, but why?”

Hermione finally looked up at him, her eyes determined. “We can’t tell you.”

Harry thought for a moment that Charlie might explode but instead he let out a sigh and pulled Ron to his feet using just one hand, despite the fact that Ron was half a head taller than his older brother. “All right, then. I am sorry if I caused any trouble but you,” he turned back to Ron, “need to keep our mother informed or she’s going to kill you when you get back.”

Hermione shivered and glanced around nervously. “Come on, let’s go back to the tent.”

They hurried back to the tent and slipped inside so that they could talk in private. Hermione explained, in a rather edited version, of how they had gotten to Albania. “We were trying to look through the newspapers but I don’t speak Albanian and-”

“Why didn’t you use the translating spell?” Charlie interrupted.

She stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a long groan and flopping back into the couch, pulling a large pillow over her head. “I am a dunce.” It was muffled but Harry could still hear her clearly. Then she pulled the pillow down and shook her head. “But I can’t use magic around the Muggles.”

Charlie frowned and studied her for a long moment. “How badly do you want to speak Albanian?”

“Badly,” Hermione assured him. “Why?”

“I know a spell that will teach you to speak the language, but it isn’t without consequences. You’ll have a devil of a headache for about a week afterwards. It’s so bad that you can’t do more than sleep.” Charlie grinned at Ron. “I didn’t want to learn Romanian so… let’s say that Mark and I cheated too.”

Hermione held the pillow against her stomach as she studied him. “Will I… get the headache immediately after performing the spell?”

“No, just after you’ve gone to sleep. It’s like a hangover except without the potion.”

The three of them stared at him as Charlie flushed a bit and cleared his throat. “Right, so are you up for it?”

“What about us?” Ron asked. “Should we do the spell too?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Hermione answered slowly. “I can accomplish much of what we need to and there’s no need for all of us to be incapacitated for a week. I’ll need you two to protect us while I’m out.”

“Why does it give you a headache?” Harry said, looking to Charlie for answers.

He shrugged, “You’re forcing your brain to learn a lot of information in a matter of seconds. I imagine that would give anyone a headache.”

“All right, let’s do this before I lose my nerve,” Hermione grumbled as she stood up.




The spell worked but the headache was worse than Charlie had described. Hermione was able to get through the newspapers from that era in one day and had found a few unsolved murders. By eight that evening she was exhausted and barely able to Apparate to the tent.

Harry and Ron helped her into bed, pulling her shoes off. “Here, Charlie left this on the table,” Ron said as he held a headache potion up to her lips. “His note said it probably wouldn’t help but at least it wouldn’t hurt.”

Hermione spent the next several days throwing up everything she managed to get down. She couldn’t stand any light and Harry ended up casting Muffliato on themselves so that she couldn’t hear them and complain weakly about the ‘cacophony’. Even in her dazed state, she still used words that could baffle them.

The wait was endless. Harry and Ron sat in the tent, waiting out the week, then another two days, before she was finally able to emerge from her room, drawn and shaking, but whole. The relief that they both felt was immeasurable. All pretenses aside, she went willingly as Ron pulled her into his lap, cradling her gently. It had been a rough week on them as well, watching her in so much pain.

“I didn’t find much,” she whispered and licked at her dry lips. “One death that I think might have been his doing but nothing to indicate that he might have left a Horcrux here.”

Harry got up and got her a glass of water, which she sipped slowly. “So all of that pain was for nothing, then?”

“No, it told us what we needed to know. He might have killed someone here, or he might not have, but even the magical newspapers of the time don’t have any mention of him.” She looked up at him before closing her eyes and resting back against Ron’s chest. She looked tiny in his arms, but her face was gaunt and Harry imagined that she’d lost quite a bit of weight this week.

He sat down across from them again. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” was her only reply as Ron sat in stony silence.

Well, Harry thought, that was going to have to do.
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