Search:

SIYE Time:11:01 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


Losing Each Other
By MyGinevra

- Text Size +

Category: Post-HBP, Buried Gems
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 169
Summary: This story follows Harry and Ginny from their parting after Dumbledore's funeral. Much of it is told from Ginny's POV. The first chapter, "Ginny's Mermaid," was originally posted as a one-shot. I have revised it slightly as part of this longer story, but it is essentially the same as it was when I first posted it.
Hitcount: Story Total: 105829; Chapter Total: 5055





Author's Notes:
I polished up a few things on 4/3/07-- nothing major. Does anyone know what was goiing on the all the fuss on the site's home page?




ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


The room was larger than Harry remembered. The tiers of stone benches stretched out on both sides, and he could see the far side only dimly. The dais in the central pit was visible, and the veil hanging in the ancient arch fluttered slightly, even though the air was quite still. They stepped away from the door, and Harry raised his wand and lit it. “Don’t!” Hermione whispered. “He’ll see us.”

“If he’s here, he already knows where we are,” Harry said without lowering his voice. He peered into the shadows. Directly across the pit, on the first tier next to the dais, were two figures lying on the bench, bound with shimmering ropes. Both figures moved, and they saw the faces of Ginny and Ron.

“Harry!” Ginny screamed. “He’s over there! Look out!”

A jet of red flame shot out of the dark, aimed at the spot where Harry had been standing. Hermione yelped and jumped back, but not quickly enough; a second flame brushed past her, and she dropped her wand and fell to the bench, clutching her hand.

Harry was kneeling next to Ginny, where he had Apparated the instant she screamed. He bent low and put his hand behind her head and raised it a few inches off the ground. Her face was sweaty and tear—stained. She started to speak, but he pressed his cheek to hers and whispered into her ear, “Don’t let him see the clasp. I love you.” His fingers found the clip holding the lion in her hair, and he slipped it off and put it on the bench under her back.

“Very nice Apparition, Harry,” said a silky voice, and Harry’s insides froze. He slowly rose and turned, knowing full well who had spoken but dreading to see him. Lord Voldemort stood in the pit next to the dais. His hood was thrown back, and his serpentine eyes embedded in the skull—like face danced and glinted. “And since that will be your last, I congratulate you on going out in style. No — no, no wands, please.” He flicked his wand before Harry could bring his own up, and Harry staggered as ropes appeared out of nowhere and wrapped themselves tightly around him. He dropped his wand, and lost his balance and toppled onto the bench next to Ginny.

“So easy,” Voldemort sighed. He looked at the tiers above his captives. “Severus, what are they teaching at Hogwarts these days? Is this the best you could do?”

Harry heard footsteps coming toward them from the top of the room. He twisted around and saw Hermione; her arms and the upper part of her body were bound, and she struggled to keep from falling as she made her way down the tiers. Her left hand was red. Severus Snape was behind her, and every time she paused he gave her a shove to keep her moving.

“Leave her alone, you slimy traitor!” Ron shouted, and he let out a string of curses. Voldemort flicked his wand and for an instant Ron went rigid, his face twisted in pain.

Voldemort sighed again. “Severus, not only are today’s students pathetically inept at magic, but they have no respect for their teachers. We’ll have to do something about that.” He pointed his wand at Ron again, and this time his agony went on for several seconds, and left him gasping for breath.

Snape pushed Hermione down the last step, and she fell heavily onto the bench and stumbled to her knees. She looked desperately at Ron, then at Harry. “It’ll be fine,” Harry said loudly, and his voice echoed around the Chamber. “He’s as good as dead.” He indicated Voldemort with a nod, and Voldemort’s high—pitched laugh also echoed off the walls. Hermione looked at Harry in disbelief, then lurched over to Ron and bent over him.

Snape stepped down next to Harry. “You would do better to shut up, Potter,” he said with the sneer that Harry knew so well. “Unless you want your friends to keep suffering like that.”

Harry got a good look at him for the first time. He was gaunter than when Harry had last seen him, standing over him just like this on the lawn at Hogwarts as Hagrid’s hut was going up in flames. His hair was, if anything, greasier than ever, and he stank.

“You need a bath, Professor,” Harry smiled. “Why don’t you untie me and we’ll go up to the fountain. You can jump right in. No one will notice you next to the house—elf and the goblin.” Snape spat in Harry’s face and climbed down to stand next to Voldemort.

“Harry!” Ginny whispered. “What are you doing?” Harry said nothing and did not look at her.

Voldemort started pacing in the pit between the dais and the bench, then he stopped in front of Harry. “Harry, my old friend, I see that I need to explain something to you. Severus here is a traitor, as your befuddled best mate has correctly pointed out, but I like traitors, they’re so easy to predict. You, however, are not so easy to predict, and I don’t like that.” He smiled, a death’s leer that Harry could not help flinching from.
Voldemort came closer and bent over Harry. Harry tried to shrink away, but Voldemort grabbed the rope around Harry’s chest and lifted him off the bench.

“You’ll watch your little friends die, Harry Potter, and then you will die.” He let Harry drop and walked back to Snape. “But I want all of you to know that your deaths will not be in vain. They will serve a higher purpose. You’ve all been out and about, and I know what you’ve been doing, you and dear, departed Albus Dumbledore.” He put his hand on Snape’s shoulder, and Snape’s eyes flickered to it, but he did not move.

Voldemort began pacing again, tapping his wand against his hand as he walked. “You see, Harry, you’ve created a problem for me, and not many people have ever been able to do that.” His eyes glittered. “And they’re all dead, by the way. But this problem is serious, because it interferes with the thing I want the most.” Again he stopped in front of Harry. “Most of my Horcruxes are gone, Harry, and that makes me very upset. But I admit that I don’t know how many, and that’s why the faithful traitor Severus is here.” He beckoned to Snape.

Harry tried to clear his mind; he put thoughts into it of Quidditch and walks through the castle with Ginny and fantasies of himself and Ginny together in a flat over a shop in Hogsmeade and –.

Snape’s eyes bore into his, and then Snape was inside his mind. He fought the invasion, and Snape pulled back. Then he came again, more violently, and he overwhelmed Harry; everything in Harry’s mind was laid bare. He felt Snape probing into every corner of every memory. He cried out and slumped back. Snape now knew everything about Merope’s grave and the wand, about the Room of Requirement and the Patronus and Ravenclaw’s necklace. Voldemort would kill them immediately now that he knew only one Horcrux, Nagini, still existed. Their only hope had been Voldemort’s overconfidence.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Ginny. He wanted the end to come quickly; if Ginny died first, there would be nothing left to fight for, to live for.

Ginny was crying, but on her face was the blazing ferocity he had first seen in the Gryffindor common room almost a year ago. If he was going to die, then he wanted that to be the last thing he saw. But through her tears Ginny’s eyes bore in just like Snape’s. She was still alive, he still had Ginny and Ron and Hermione. He twisted around to face the pit where Voldemort was watching silently but impatiently. The fight was not yet over.

Snape stepped back; he sneered again. “It’s all there, My Lord,” he said to Voldemort. “The wand is gone.”

“And the others?”

“You know about them. The locket, the ring, and the book.”

“No other?” A frown was on Voldemort’s spectral face. He raised his wand, and Snape leaned away from it. “You are sure?”

“Yes, My Lord. He kept nothing from me.”

Voldemort stepped toward Harry and poked his wand into Harry’s chest. Harry braced himself and closed his eyes, and filled himself with Ginny; he thought about their little “nest” in the common room after Christmas, and waking up on the sofa in the middle of the night with Ginny pressed against him and moonlight falling through the window onto her face. He felt a tendril of evil begin to worm into his mind, but it suddenly pulled back. He opened his eyes and saw Voldemort stagger back, loathing and a touch of pain on his face.

It was a small battle and Harry had won it. But now he was puzzled. Why had Snape not told Voldemort about the necklace? Had he not seen that memory? Harry did not think it possible that he had blocked it; Snape’s invasion had been complete. Snape had lied to Voldemort, but why? What was his game? Harry couldn’t fathom it, but it did rekindle the only hope they had.

“Why did you bring us here, Tommy?” he called.

Voldemort, who had been pacing again, whirled and brought his wand up. But then he smiled. “Dumbledore tried to provoke me like that once, Harry, but he’s dead now. So I’ll forgive you for it at present. I brought you here because I need more Horcruxes, exactly four as it rather conveniently turns out.”

“No, really? Tommy, Tommy, I’ve known for seventeen years that you want to kill me. It sounds like he’s slipping, doesn’t it, Professor Snape? I’ll try asking again.” Harry spoke very slowly, “Why – did – you – bring – us – to – this – ”

Crucio!" Voldemort hissed, and Harry screamed and writhed as pain wracked every part of his body.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Ginny cried. Ron and Hermione also began shouting, and the room echoed, but Voldemort continued to point his wand at Harry.

“My Lord,” Snape said loudly, “someone may hear this.” Voldemort looked at him with disgust, but dropped his wand. The only sounds now were Harry’s soft moans and Ginny and Hermione’s sobs.

“You made me lose my temper, Harry,” Voldemort said. “That will go badly for you all when the time comes. But I don’t hold you completely responsible. You see,” he smiled at Harry who’s eyes were now open but unfocused, “I can see things from your point of view. I should be able to control my own temper. So enough.” He held his hand up, as if to stop Harry from speaking. “Before you die I want to answer your question, impertinent as it was, and give you a small demonstration of my power and the pitiful state of your own.”

He raised his wand, and a door above them opened. It was not the door Harry and Hermione had come in, and they could not see anyone enter. But both Voldemort and Snape watched intently, and in a moment the four captives sensed something moving toward them. Then a huge snake head appeared on the tier above. The serpent descended to their bench; it was very large, and its body seemed to go on and on as it slithered around, between, and over them, its forked tongue darting in and out. They all tried to pull away, except Harry, who just stared impassively at Nagini. She finally went down into the pit.

Snape moved slightly away from the snake, but Voldemort spoke a few hissing, sibilant words and reached down and caressed her head. “She’s hungry, you know, and I’ll be feeding her soon. Maybe I’ll be democratic, and let you four decide who.” Hermione moaned, and began weeping again. Ron leaned until his head was touching hers.

Voldemort spread his arms. “Well, now that we’re all here, I want to show you something, Harry, and this will also answer the question you so rudely asked. I invited you to this particular place for two reasons. The first is that I thought you might prefer dying in the same place as your foolish, blood—traitor of a godfather. The second reason is to show you how impossible it will be for anyone except me to fulfill that sad, sad prophecy.”

He stepped onto the dais. As soon as his back turned, Harry rolled closer to Ginny. “Don’t talk, just listen,” he whispered urgently. “You’ve got to do something that will get him really, really angry. Do you understand? And when I say move, you’ve got to move off your lion.”

He did not wait for her to answer; in truth, he didn’t want to see her reaction. If Ginny did what he asked, she might live but she also might never forgive him. But he saw no other way. He rolled away and looked at the dais. Voldemort had not turned yet, and Snape was also looking up at him.

Voldemort moved very close to the arch and the fluttering veil, and now Harry heard a new sound: whispers from behind the veil, and they became louder as Voldemort approached. He whirled triumphantly; his eyes glowed, and red snakes danced in them. He reached up and put his arm through the veil.

The whispers became distinct voices; their words were incomprehensible, but their anger was unmistakable. A ghostly hand with skinless, skeletal fingers emerged from the veil. It grabbed for Voldemort’s shoulder, but the fingers passed right through him, and the hand disappeared back into the veil.

Voldemort’s laugh, loud and victorious, was magnified by its own echoes. He raised his hands above his head. “You see, Harry!” he cried. “I am immortal! Death can not claim me, even with but two of my Horcruxes intact.” He laughed again. “Now, it is time.”

Ginny suddenly began screaming at him. “You pathetic pig! You’ll never get away with this! Harry proved that your Horcruxes can be destroyed. Even if you kill us someone else will do it! No one’s afraid of you anymore, Harry destroyed your dementors, too! Your Death Eaters are gone, a few drops of truth serum and they’ll tell everything! Half the Ministry is on their way here right now! You’ll be in Azkaban and a dementor’s dinner by this time to–‘

Voldemort raised his wand. Ginny stopped in mid—sentence and began gagging. Her face turned red as she tried vainly to draw breath. Voldemort stepped off the dais and walked calmly over to the captives, shaking his head. Harry thrashed and kicked uselessly at him, and Ron and Hermione both began screaming. Voldemort suddenly let Ginny go, and her whole body heaved as she gulped air.

“This will not do,” Voldemort said as though thinking out loud. “I don’t want to silence you, but this is very unpleasant.” He looked at Hermione. “Miss Granger, you are undoubtedly the most intelligent person here aside from myself. I understand that Professor Snape likes to call you an insufferable know—it—all. You are very well read, in fact you received a wonderful Christmas gift from Harry of a book which, sad to say, I’ve never had time to read. Can you tell me if there’s anything in it that will help us in the present circumstances?”

Fear took Hermione’s voice, and she did not answer. She looked frantically at Harry, then Ron, and all they could see in her eyes was terror. “Oh, come,” Voldemort said. “Cat named Crookshanks got your tongue?” He looked at Snape and laughed. “Lord Voldemort told a joke!”

Ginny spoke. “You won’t find anything in the encyclopedia to help you, Tommy. There’s nothing in it about psychopathic perverts.”

Voldemort’s smile faded. “Oh, Ginevra, I am so sorry you said that. Goodbye.” His wand came up, and Ginny felt fingers closing around her throat and unbearable pain engulfing her. Her eyes bulged, and she turned her head to Harry and he saw her dying. Her face was horribly distorted and turning blue. She heaved and kicked. Her hair whipped around as she twisted her head back and forth. Voldemort’s high, shrill laugh filled the air.

“Ginny, move!” Harry screamed. She arched her back and lurched toward him; the lion clasp lay on the bench in full view. It burst into pieces and the stag exploded out, wreathed in fire, its crimson eyes flaming like blowtorches. It rammed Voldemort, picked him up in its antlers and tossed him into the air. He soared directly through the veil and came out the other side. He fell heavily on the dais, stunned.

The instant Voldemort passed through the veil, the ropes holding Harry, Ron, and Ginny fell away. Harry sprang up. Nagini was curled on the floor of the pit, and Harry spoke to her, ”Move! Move! Your master is there!” and Nagini climbed to the dais, her body weaving and arching. She stopped in front of the veil and raised her head and swayed; her tongue flicked in and out. ”Through there! Your master is there!” Harry again spoke in Parseltongue. Nagini slithered through the veil and was gone.

Harry picked up his wand from the bench where it had fallen. Ginny staggered to her feet and stood next to him, clutching his arm for support. Ron bent over Hermione trying to loosen the ropes binding her. The stag stood a few feet away, prancing nervously; the light radiating from its body lit up the room. Snape was nowhere to be seen.

“Ginny, I’m – “ Harry started to speak, but she pointed to the dais.

There was movement behind the veil, and Voldemort stumbled around the arch. His robes were singed and torn and his face was bloody. His left arm hung limply at his side, but his eyes still glowed red and he still held his wand. The stag pawed at the ground, then launched itself at him. His wand flashed and the stag veered off and crashed into the first tier of stone benches in a shower of sparks.

Voldemort was breathing with difficulty and leaning on the arch. He did not notice, as a transfixed Harry did, that the voices from behind the veil had again grown louder and many bony hands were reaching out from it. They grasped his legs and his torso, and this time they did not pass through his body. Voldemort felt them, and suddenly there was panic in his face. His head jerked up and he pointed his wand at Harry; his voice came out in a terrible screech, ”Avada kedavra!”.

But Voldemort was in death’s grip and his Curse was weakened. And at the instant the green flame shot from his wand toward Harry’s chest, Ginny jerked him aside. The Curse struck Harry’s hand; his wand shattered, and the exposed phoenix feather burst into flame. He screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his smoking hand. He never saw the skeletal hands, a dozen or more, that reached from the veil and pulled the flailing Voldemort inexorably into it. With a wail of rage the Dark Lord vanished through the veil and was never seen in the world again.

Harry lay on the bench, moaning and clutching the wrist of his burned right hand. Ginny knelt next to him holding his right arm. “Harry! No! No!” she cried.

A hand grasped her shoulder and roughly shoved her aside. She looked around; it was Severus Snape. He climbed onto the bench and knelt on one knee and touched Harry’s hand with his wand, muttering under his breath. Harry stopped moaning although he still held his wrist; he looked up, dazed.

“I’m sorry, Potter,” Snape said. “That’s the best I can do. Your hand cannot be made whole again.”

“Like Dumbledore,” Hermione whispered; she and Ron were standing in the pit looking at Harry. Snape nodded.

Ginny pushed Snape away and knelt next to Harry again. She took his shriveled, blackened hand in both of hers. She was weeping, and her tears fell on Harry’s hand. Harry let go of his wrist and stared at her, then at Snape in bewilderment. “Why?” he asked Snape. “Why didn’t you tell him about the necklace? You were his servant. I don’t understand.”

Snape stood up. “You never understood anything, did you Potter? I’ll tell you one thing only.” He gazed at Ginny, who glared back. “Lily Evans,” he said simply. He returned their dumbfounded stares coldly.

There were shouts from the top of the room. Every door flew open at the same time, and Aurors poured into the Chamber. Nymphadora Tonks took the tiers in a few great leaps and landed in the pit. “Are you all okay? Where is Voldemort?” She saw Harry’s hand cradled in Ginny’s arms. “Good God, what happened? Get the Healer down here!” she called up to an Auror standing in a doorway. She knelt on the bench next to Ginny. “How did this happen? Wasn’t Voldemort here? And Severus Snape?”

Ginny turned, but Snape and Harry’s stag had vanished. “Voldemort was here, but he’s gone.”

“No!” Harry struggled to sit up. “How could he get away, my stag –“

Ginny put a hand on his lips. “Hush. He’s dead. You destroyed the last Horcrux and he was pulled through the veil. He’s gone, Harry. It’s over.” Harry slumped against her; she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him gently. The Aurors standing in the pit looked at each other in stunned silence. Some of them stared at the veil, fluttering gently in the still air.

“Go get Kingsley,” Tonks said to one. “And where the hell is that Healer?”

The witch who had healed Harry’s foot in Cornwall was climbing down the tiers. She stepped into the pit, and when she saw Harry’s hand she sucked in her breath. “We’ve got to get him to St. Mungo’s,” she said. “Immediately.”

Many hands reached to help Harry stand, but he would not let go of Ginny, and Ron took Harry’s left arm and put it around his shoulders. “Where’s my wand?” Harry looked around. Hermione stepped in front of him; she held the broken pieces of Ginny’s hair clasp in one hand and bits of wood and a shriveled, gray feather in the other.

“I don’t think even Spellotape can fix that one,” Ron muttered, and Harry burst out laughing. Ginny grinned; she was holding Harry’s right hand against her and her left arm around his waist. She looked across at Ron, and they smiled.


* * *



In less than an hour Harry was at St. Mungo’s Hospital in a room on the fourth floor, sitting in bed with his hand bandaged. The room was already becoming crowded despite the best efforts of Hestia Derwent, the Healer who had come to the Chamber of Death with the Wizard Hit Team. Molly and Arthur Weasley were the first to arrive; Molly cried the entire time she was there, and hugged Ron then Ginny then Harry then Hermione and back around again, several times. Kingsley Shacklebolt swept in, wearing multi—colored robes and a huge, gold earring, and announced in his deep, booming voice that Harry had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class; Harry refused to take the medal, so Kingsley handed it to Ginny with a wink, and she tucked it inside her robes.

Stewart Shunpike came in with his photographer and his brother Stan in tow, but Harry asked if he could come back tomorrow and promised to give him an interview for as long as Stewart wanted. He conceded one photo of himself, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but refused to allow his bandaged hand in the picture. When Alastor Moody limped in, Harry grinned and asked what he was going to do now with his collection of Sneakoscopes. Mad—Eye apologized for what had happened in the lane outside Hogsmeade, then he ensconced himself in the hallway in front of the door and, for as long as Harry was at St. Mungo’s, would not allow anyone or anything in without his personal inspection.

The rest of the Weasley family arrived, even Percy who solemnly shook Harry’s hand and asked, bending over Harry and speaking in a low voice, if Harry could get him a job interview with the new Minister of Magic. The twins promised to keep their eyes open in Diagon Alley for anyone selling a wand; rumors were already flying that Ollivander would be re-opening his shop. Fleur gave Harry a kiss full on the lips, and he turned red and grabbed Ginny’s hand. Bill told him that within minutes of the announcement that Voldemort was dead – and now everyone was saying his name – the value of the Galleon had almost doubled, and Harry’s account at Gringotts along with it.

Tonks and Remus came early in the evening; Tonks didn’t enter immediately, but had a short conversation with Mad—Eye who told her to keep her Aurors out of his way while he was guarding Harry. She laughed, and when she entered the room she had grown her hair out into a beehive a foot tall that changed color every few seconds. Harry had to ask her to stop; it was making him dizzy. She told him that by tomorrow evening every known Death Eater would be in custody at the Ministry or in Azkaban; the ones already arrested were claiming the Imperius Curse as their alibi. Trials would be starting in a few days for the ones who had committed crimes, including several who had murdered.

Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall came later; they had waited until the dinner meal at Hogwarts was finished, and Flitwick described the wild celebration that erupted in the Great Hall when the Headmistress announced that their friends were safe and that Voldemort was dead. Harry asked Ginny to bring his robes to him, and he took Rowena Ravenclaw’s necklace from its pocket and handed it to Professor Flitwick. The teacher’s eyes glistened as he bowed to Harry. McGonagall had a tiny smile on her face; Harry glanced at her and she scowled fiercely, then laughed.

The Healer finally chased away the last visitors – Molly and Arthur – and checked Harry’s bandage one last time. “I’ve recommended that you three stay here for, ah, observation,” she said to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. “There’s a room for the girls right across the hall.”

She left, and they heard her speak briefly to Mad—Eye, and then it was quiet, and they were alone. Ginny, who had no intention of leaving the room until Harry did, took off her boots and sat next to him on the bed, while Ron and Hermione pulled up chairs. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, then at Harry.

Harry leaned back against his pillows and stared into space. No one said anything. Ginny finally reached for Harry’s left hand, but he pulled it away. “What’s wrong?” she said.

He examined his bandage, avoiding her eyes. “I had to do it, Ginny. I couldn’t see any other way. I almost killed you.” He wouldn’t look at her.

She swung around and knelt on the bed at his side. “You saved us, Harry. We would all be dead if it wasn’t for what you did, for everything you did. Don’t you ever apologize for that again. And nobody ever died because of you.”

“That’s not true. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric...”

“They died because Voldemort killed them or wanted them dead,” Hermione said.

“And you would have died today to save us,” Ron added. “So don’t go off feeling like everyone else is making the big sacrifice just for you.”

Harry shook his head. “I just know that when I asked Ginny to make Voldemort attack her, I knew what he would do, and I was afraid she wouldn’t forgive me.”

Ginny was still kneeling, and she pulled Harry’s head against her bosom and held him there. She looked at Ron and Hermione and sighed. Harry put his arms around her; when he finally let go, there were tears on his face.

They stayed up for a another hour, but didn’t talk much, and finally Harry dozed off and Ginny fell asleep leaning on his shoulder. Ron and Hermione tip—toed to two other beds in the room, and they all slept, but not soundly. No one said it, but no one wanted to be alone that night. Later, Mad—Eye looked in – with his normal eye; he saw them all sleeping and quietly closed the door.

The next morning Hestia Derwent bustled in just after dawn. “There’s visitors everywhere,” she complained. “They’re upsetting the whole hospital. Reporters, politicians, salesmen... Everyone says they’re related to you, Harry, and here I thought you were an orphan and all alone in the world. There’s even a house—elf.”

“Dobby!” exclaimed Harry. “Send him up!”

“Not right now, if you don’t mind.” She removed the bandage, then frowned and muttered under her breath as she held his hand up.

“What?” said Ginny; she was standing at the foot of Harry’s bed, brushing her hair.

Harry smiled at her. “It doesn’t hurt. When can I leave? ” he asked the Healer.

Hestia sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve never even heard of a wound from a Killing Curse, except...” She glanced at his scar. “You have the only two in the world.”

There was a knock at the door, and Alastor put his head in. “Edward Pendragon and his daughter are downstairs,” he growled. “They want to see you, they say it’s important, can’t wait.” He looked at the Healer. “Your neighbor.”

“Well, send them up, then,” she said, as she wrapped a fresh bandage around Harry’s hand. “I’ll be back this afternoon, Harry. There’s a very famous Healer from China who’s Portkeying in just to see you.” She smiled and patted his arm, then left.

In a few minutes there was another knock and Elspeth skipped in, followed by her father.

“Harry!” she cried. “We all got detention but then Professor McGonagall said at dinner that no one would have to go.” She giggled. “But you’d better watch out for Mr. Filch when you get back. He’s yelling at everyone now. And there’s a house—elf from school downstairs named Dobby. He says he’ll come see you after we leave.” She looked at his bandage. “What happened to your hand?”

“Elspeth,” her father scolded. “Be polite. Harry got hurt.”

Harry smiled and waved the hand. “It actually doesn’t hurt much anymore. Someone from China’s coming just to take a look at it.” He paused and said more somberly, “Someone else told me it would never get better, but I think it’s better already. Anyway, I have another one.” He waved his left hand in the air and grinned again.

Elspeth smiled coyly and looked at her father. “We have something for you, Harry.”

Edward stepped forward and took a box from an inside pocket; it was thin and flat and about a foot long. It was made of polished, dark wood, and was held closed by a bright, gold fastener and hasp. He handed it to Elspeth who held it in both hands and presented it to Harry. “This is my family’s,” she said solemnly, “and we’re giving it to you because you need it.”

Harry took the box; Ginny sat on the bed next to him, and Ron and Hermione stood on the other side. Harry opened the box and stared at what was inside: a wand lying on a red velvet cushion. “Oh, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “Is that –?”

“I can’t take this,” Harry said, and handed the box back to Elspeth. “How do you even know I can use it?”

Elspeth pushed the box back to him. “Try it.”

Harry looked at Edward. “But it belongs to your family.”

“We have plenty of other things that also belonged to him, Harry. The only reason this wand came back to us is because you found it. Go ahead, try it.”

Harry remembered back to the day, more than six years ago, when he stood in Ollivander’s shop with Hagrid, trying dozens of wands, and then holding the last one, the brother of Voldemort’s wand. “How do you know Voldemort didn’t use this after he stole it?” he said.

Edward shook his head. “We stopped at the Ministry and they tested it. There’s absolutely no trace that it’s been used for at least a few hundred years. If that’s true, then the last person to use it was Merlin himself, because no one in our family ever did. And somehow I don’t think that this wand would choose Voldemort.”

Elspeth held the box in front of Harry and grinned. He took the wand from its cushion. It felt very solid; it was a little heavier than his old one and less supple, and about an inch shorter. Like the one he got from Ollivander, it felt warm in his hand. He slowly raised it and waved it at the ceiling; a single, purple flame blossomed from it like a flower.

“It’s yours, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “The wand of Merlin is yours.”
Reviews 169
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear