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Harry Potter and the Final Flame | ||||||
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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: 175414; Chapter Total: 6257 Author's Notes: Thank you mugglenet27 and JPx for beta'ing! Also thanks for reviewing!
I need to credit Ms Spider and her story, Harry Potter and the Runespoor Shield, for my unintentional use of the snake to find something. This is part of why I don’t read anymore, but I read her story a few years ago and she uses a snake to locate something. It occurred to me this morning, after reading a review, that I’d read something like that and then had to track down a story expert, wvchemteach, to figure out what the story was. SO that brilliance belongs to her and if you get a chance, go read it.
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They were ready to leave 3 days after Percy’s funeral. Harry was up, bright and early, with only Remus to see them off from the derelict old house. “Be careful,” he admonished quietly. “I will keep the mirror with me at all times, except for the full moon. Tonks will have it when I- when I’m indisposed.” “Thanks,” Harry told him as Hermione gave the old professor a hug, and he shook his hand. Harry had carefully stowed his mirror from Sirius in his knapsack, so that it could be readily accessible if they needed it. Hermione had deemed it necessary to make themselves untraceable by owls, and this would be their only method of communication while they were away. Remus smiled tiredly and nodded. “I will see you then, when you get back.” They left the house and walked along the same path that they had been taking for the past few weeks. Rather than traveling magically, they were going by Muggle means. Fred and George had managed to make fake passports for Harry and Ron, Hermione already had one, and they had delivered them late last night. “I still don’t see why we can’t just Apparate,” Ron muttered mulishly before yawning loudly. Hermione didn’t even bother to look at him as she answered. “Apparation can leave a magical signature and besides,” she huffed and kicked at a stray leaf that lay innocently on the ground, “I don’t want us splinching ourselves. We couldn’t remain undetected by the Ministry or… or him if we were hurt.” “All right, all right,” Ron agreed, swiping at an overhead branch, shaking loose several more colorful leaves. Despite it only being early September, the leaves were already beginning to turn. Harry yawned loudly and then caught himself as he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. “So will this train take us straight to Albania?” They had decided on Albania for the simple reason that they had no other options available to them. They didn’t know of any other country that he had been in. Harry didn’t really expect to find anything, but without another avenue, they were forced to try. “Besides,” Hermione had said rationally last night, “if Voldemort is going to find out what we’re up to, it’s more likely that he’ll hear about it while we’re in England where he’s got more spies.” After that, heading out of the country had sounded like a marvelous idea. “No, we’re going to take the train to Paris and then another train from Paris to Salzburg, Austria. After that we’re going on another train from Salzburg and down the coast of Italy to a port called Brindisi, and then we will take a boat from Brindisi over into Vlorë, Albania.” Ron’s eyes had glazed over when Hermione had gotten to Salzburg. “This is too complicated.” “All you have to do is get on and off when I tell you too,” she snapped before sighing. “Sorry, I’m really tired and…” she took Harry’s arm and stopped him. “It’s going to be expensive.” “S'alright,” Harry assured her, yawning. “I’m not using the money for school this year, anyway.” “Wait,” Ron perked up a bit, glancing nervously between them. “How expensive?” “Doesn’t matter, Ron,” Harry told him as he continued on down the road, shrugging his backpack up so that it was resting more comfortably. “This is a trip I have to make and I’m glad to have you along. The least I can do is pay for the tickets.” Ron did not seem pacified but he didn’t say more. Instead they finished their walk to the underground in silence, before hopping the train to Waterloo Station. Hermione took care of paying for their trip while Harry and Ron found coffee. They met up with her a few minutes later and found out that their train would be leaving in half an hour. “So we’d best go find seats.” The coffee cup that she had brought to her lips muffled her voice. Finding their train was easy. Ron folded himself into his seat, while Harry stowed his bag and sat down as well. Hermione folded her feet under herself, pulling open a Muggle paper that she had picked up at the station. “It’s about 3 hours to Paris, so you two can sleep if you’d like.” Harry doubted that he would be able to sleep. It felt like a Hippogriff was trampling through his stomach. Ron, however, passed out within three minutes of having left the station. He watched the scenery pass by them for a while before feeling his lids grow heavier. Closing them, he drifted off to sleep. “You missed the ride through the tunnel,” Hermione told them as they exited the train and got in line at customs. Yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes, Ron grinned down at her. “I’m sure it was boring.” Hermione made a non-committal noise and stopped to look up at a sign that was completely in French. “This way,” she told them and walked on ahead. “Blimey,” Ron whispered, “did you know she read French?” “No,” Harry shook his head. “But somehow, it doesn’t surprise me.” “We have time to get lunch before the next train,” Hermione informed them, heading for a café. “The next trip is going to be an overnight journey.” Harry and Ron groaned together. There was no way they would sleep through the night in those little chairs. Cottoning onto their thoughts, Hermione added, “I booked first-class seats for the trip, so you can both stop complaining.” “Ah, bless you, Hermione,” Ron said as he swept her up in his arms, twirling her around. “I don’t think I could stand to be stuck in another tiny seat.” Harry laughed and sat down at a table as a waiter appeared. He spoke to him, in French, but Harry just stared back at him blankly. “Uh…” “Pardon, Monsieur.” Hermione winked at Harry and began speaking slowly to the man. He nodded amicably and left. “I ordered sandwiches and water,” she told them as she sat down at the small table. “I didn’t know you spoke French,” Harry said in amusement. She shrugged, “I decided to learn before we went to France before third year and I didn’t want to lose it so I’ve been practicing ever since. I’m not as fast as the natives, of course, but I can keep up a general conversation.” Ron took his water glass that the waiter had just delivered and raised it in the air, “To Hermione, the person that made this trip happen. We’d be lost without you.” “To Hermione!” Harry agreed, raising his glass and clinking it against Ron’s. Hermione blushed scarlet. Paris was nice, if one didn’t mind having the French people look down their noses at the English speaking tourists. Harry didn’t mind, and Ron made fun of several of the shopkeepers who looked down their noses at him; or rather, up their noses as Ron was still taller than most of the people they met. “I don’t know why you wanted to stop in the shops anyway,” Ron had told her but Hermione hadn’t replied. Instead, she took them to the Eiffel Tower. “It’s like being up on a broom,” Harry reminded Ron. Ron shook his head as he shuffled back another step, away from the railing. “Muggles construction… old buildings… don’t trust them.” “Nonsense, Ron! The Eiffel Tower has been standing since 1889 and-” “Don’t care!” Ron interrupted. “It’s not normal and no mag-” Harry clapped his hand over Ron’s mouth as several Muggles passed them. “We’ll go down then.” “Yes, it’s getting late anyway,” Hermione said, checking her watch. They were only twenty minutes in to the second leg of their journey and Harry was getting restless. Hermione had brought along Muggle cards and taught Harry and Ron several games to keep themselves occupied but they couldn’t talk freely, something he longed to do. Even in the first-class car, Muggles surrounded them, so they couldn’t risk discussing anything while on the train. If he risked using magic, to muffle their conversation, the Ministry would know that someone had performed magic in front of Muggles. However, by the time dusk had settled over them, they were ready to turn in. Harry followed Hermione’s instructions for reclining his chair and curled up with a blanket, staring off towards the shade on the window as the train kept moving along. It wasn’t loud but a low hum that soothed his worries. He was now away from England, and most of the fighting, but he’d left friends, the Weasley family, and… most especially, Ginny. Most of the day, he had been kept busy but now, at night, and with no distractions, he could think of little else, not even Occlumency. The last time he’d seen her, she had been thin as a reed. She still had the same fire that he associated with her, but there had been something else there, something he couldn’t name. “Do you trust everyone in this room?” Her voice floated as naturally into his head as if they were his own thoughts. His response flowed naturally after hers. “What?” he questioned stupidly before it finally sunk in. “No, of course I don’t.” Suddenly her chocolate eyes flicked back up to his and he saw the determination there. “Do you trust me?” Of course he did! He’d dated her, been happy with her… broken up with her. It was a struggle now to remember exactly why he’d ended things. She’ll be safer this way… Well, maybe… it depended on where she was right now. She had said that she was doing what needed to be done but what could that possibly mean? The frustrating answer was that he didn’t know. Ron let out a loud snore from next to him, and Hermione turned over in her own chair, to Ron’s left. Harry closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would finally claim him. It was several hours before it finally did. Everyone stumbled along the line, through yet another customs line, blurry eyed and exhausted. It was just after 4am and Harry could see, barely, through the windows that there was a torrential downpour going on outside. “Passport,” a man with a straight mustache demanded in a very thick accent. Harry handed it over and watched while it was checked, stamped and given back. He, Ron and Hermione wandered around the station until Hermione was able to locate the next train that they would take. It wasn’t leaving for an hour. Plopping their stuff down beside a row of seats, they sat down together and fell back to sleep. Harry awoke with a start, nearly knocking Hermione to the floor. Her feet had been resting on his lap, while her head was resting on Ron’s shoulder. “Harry?” She mumbled sleepily. “What’s the matter?” “I dunno,” he told her, looking around the nearly deserted train station. “I just had a bad dream….” He tried to remember what exactly the dream had entailed, but it was slipping quickly away from him. Hermione sat up straight, studying him. “Are you all right?” He nodded and stood up, stretching his arms above his head, trying to work out the kinks from his back. “What time is our next train?” Looking down at her watch, she gasped. “Fifteen minutes! Ron, wake up!” Ron opened one eye. “Wuzamatter?” “We’re going to be late!” She grabbed her bag and kicked at Ron’s foot when he appeared to go back to sleep. They boarded the next train and found the food car before finding their seats, as they were all hungry. “This traveling like a Mug-” Ron’s voice faltered. “Like… er…. them is-” “We know, Ron, it’s very slow, but this was the best way.” Hermione pulled out her cards again and dealt them out. Several hours later they finally arrived at the port city of Brindisi, in Italy. “Last bit is the boat,” she told them. “Then we have to find a newspaper and start our research.” They wandered down to the port, nearly forty minutes early for the noon ferry. Harry stared around in awe at the little harbor and the fishermen who were moving about their boats. They were blissfully unaware of any dangers that were lurking in England and he vowed suddenly that they never would. “How long is it going to take?” Ron asked, studying the sign at the dock. Not one word of it was in English. “You don’t want to know,” Hermione assured him, before turning back to the man. “Grazi.” “Bloody hell, Hermione! Do you speak Italian too?” Ron stared at her, dumbfounded. She rolled her eyes and handed him his ticket. “Of course not, but I did brush up on a few simple phrases that we would need.” Ron simply turned and followed after her, mumbling something about ‘too smart for her own good.’ The boat ride took eighteen hours. Hermione had booked a private cabin for their trip so that they could sleep, once again. The entire journey had taken over two days and it was exhausting. By the time they pulled into port at Vlorë, the three of them were exhausted, dirty, and seasick. “I wish I’d… thought…” Hermione swallowed hard, looking as ill as Harry felt, “… to look up a spell for seasickness but it wouldn’t have mattered, since we … were around Muggles and couldn’t use magic anyway.” “Let’s just set up camp,” Harry groaned as they walked through the heat, down one street. He hoped that this direction led them out of the city. It didn’t. They had to make several turns before they finally found a field. They hurriedly set up the tent and crawled inside. Hermione followed them in a minute later. “I placed the Disillusionment Charm on the tent. We shouldn’t be disturbed.” They worked together quickly to whip up a bit of supper before falling into their beds. It was nearly twelve hours later before Harry finally awoke again. He stretched up, cursed when he smacked his hand on the bunk frame, and rolled out of his bed. Ron didn’t even stir as he gathered up his towel and clothes. He padded softly out of his room, noting that Hermione was still fast asleep in her own bed, made for the shower. After cleaning up a bit, he walked into the small kitchen and started working on breakfast. “Morning.” Hermione was carrying a towel and a small basket. “I’ll be quick and then I’ll help.” “No rush,” Harry assured her. He’d made breakfast many times in his life. By the time Hermione was out of the shower, Ron had drug himself from bed and planted himself at the small table. “My turn,” he told them as he yawned and scraped the chair back and stumbled off to shower. “We need to travel a bit north of here, to find a forest. Most of the country is low mountain ranges, but at least now we can Apparate without any fear of someone tracking us.” Harry stirred the eggs a bit, adding a bit of salt, before asking, “Why’s that?” “Well… the Ministry of Albania doesn’t trace magic.” Pulling the pan from the stove, he placed the eggs on a plate and handed them over, “They don’t track anything?” She shook her head, “Thank you and no, they don’t. There won’t be a record if we do magic in front of a Muggle, but if the Muggles react then the Ministry will step in, of course. This country has a history of being mired in dark magic.” “So where do you want to start?” Harry asked as he served up his own breakfast and placed a plate out for Ron. Hermione pulled out a map from beneath a stack of books and spread it out on the table between them. “Tiranë,” she said, pointing to a city that was in the middle of the country. “I think we’ll start there.” It turned out that Tiranë was the only major city in the entire country. They Apparated to the outskirts and Hermione stopped into a shop to locate newspaper headquarters. What they found was singularly unhelpful. “Albania was a communist country, so news from that time would be limited and details unreliable,” Hermione explained as they left the main paper’s office. The paper was called ‘Shekulli’, although not even Hermione could pronounce it. That was one of the official papers in the country. She turned to them, one hand on her hip and another running through her loose hair. “We’re going to have to search forests without any help.” They headed out of the city along the same route that they came in on, stopping to Apparate behind a grove of trees. The sun beat lazily on them as they Apparated due east from Tiranë. Harry spun slowly on the spot, his eyes searching the thick woods. The trees were old and twisted together. An inexplicable shudder ran through him although he couldn’t explain why. “Bertha Jorkins died somewhere between here and Pashkopi.” Hermione took out her map and pointed to each of the places. The last her relatives heard, she was staying in Burrel.” “That’s a lot of ground to cover,” Harry said, gazing down at the map doubtfully. “Ah, but we can cheat, just like Wormtail did,” Hermione told him, folding the map again and stowing it in her bag. “How’s that?” Ron asked. “Parseltongue,” she answered and began wending her way into the trees. It was so simple and yet, it made absolute sense. “Brilliant, Hermione,” Ron told her as he caught up and put an arm around her shoulder. “Can you try to find a snake for us to talk to?” Hermione asked, her cheeks a bit pink from Ron’s compliment. “I can try,” he replied, and closed his eyes, picturing a snake. “Is there a snake near me?” Opening his eyes, he glanced hopefully at them. Both shook their heads, “Sorry, still English.” Sighing, he shut his eyes again and focused. “Are there any snakes near by?” This time the rasping hiss came through. He looked around on the ground but saw nothing. “Anyone?” “Maybe we should walk further into the trees,” Hermione suggested as she watched the area around her feet nervously. Harry walked carefully through the dense undergrowth, keeping an eye on the ground and asking sporadically if there was a snake about. They searched for nearly an hour before they found one. The beady-eyed creature stared unblinkingly up at them, but it seemed to draw back even as they watched. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry assured it as he crouched down to see the tiny snake better. “What do you want?” The snake hissed out. “Uh…” Harry glanced at Hermione and then seemed to remember what he should be asking. “A few years ago, a dark entity lived somewhere in these woods-” “Sssstop! I have only seen one change of the seasonsss. You will have to speak with an older ssssnake.” Harry translated what it had said to him. “Damn,” Ron muttered and kicked at a rock, which made the snake hiss and slither away quickly. “We might as well stop for lunch,” Hermione told them. “We should get our tent set up, as well. Then we can come back out here to search.” “Sounds good to me. I’m starving!” Ron exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes, and smiled. “When are you not?” “Let’s go then,” Harry said. He glanced around the woods, feeling cold seeping through his t-shirt. Maybe after lunch… maybe they would learn something then. |
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