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Category: Post-OotP Characters:All Genres: Angst, Fluff, Drama, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 147 Summary: Harry's life is in turmoil since the death of his godfather, but realising he is in love doesn't make it any easier. This story tracks his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts and all the problems he faces. Hitcount: Story Total: 69880; Chapter Total: 4182 |
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Friends and More Disclaimer: see profile Chapter Nineteen: Into the Light A month and a half passed, and life continued as normal at Hogwarts. News arrived of Lucius Malfoy and a couple of other Death Eaters escaping, yet again, but there were no other reports of activity from Voldemort or his supporters. Gryffindor played their Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, and won with relative ease. People were beginning to bemoan the fact that Harry and Ron would be gone by the next year. Lessons continued as normal as well, and Harry was kept very busy with homework, Quidditch practices, extra training with Dumbledore and the DA. Everyone seemed relatively happy and worry-free, especially since there had been no attacks of any sort since the one on Hogwarts before Christmas, and no one had been seriously harmed then. Something that really did surprise Harry was the ease with which everyone accepted the change in his and Ginny’s relationship. One day in mid January Harry asked Hermione about it, while she was helping Lavender and Parvati with some Transfiguration homework. Hermione hesitated before answering, and Lavender jumped in. “What’s different?” Harry blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Well, we’re going out now.” Parvati’s eyebrows rose. “Weren’t you before?” Harry spluttered. “No! We were friends… best friends, but after the attack we, well, started going out.” Harry glared at Hermione, who wasn’t helping in the slightest. After the initial interruption she seemed to decide that this conversation answered Harry’s question as well as anything she could say, so she just sat there, looking amused. Lavender frowned. “But you spent all the time together… and everyone knew you fancied each other.” “She went out with other people! How could everyone have known?” Harry was getting a bit angry now. Were he and Ginny gossiped about so much? His temper wasn’t improved when all three girls started laughing at him. “What?” This time it was Hermione who answered. “Oh, Harry,” she said, laughing so hard she was nearly crying. “Have you never heard of denial? I mean, just look at me and Ron! The only reason we’re not in exactly the same situation is that you and Ginny don’t fight as much as we do.” Harry stalked away, seething, until Ginny came into the common room and got him to give her a cuddle, which in turn made him really think about what had been said. He smiled ruefully, and Ginny noticed. “What are you smirking about?” Harry kissed her hair before replying. “Oh, just the fact that everyone else knew about us a long time before we did… or at least, before I did. I suppose that you, oh shining star of wisdom, knew for quite a long time.” She smiled up at him, her brown eyes shining in the firelight. “I didn’t know for certain until the Halloween ball. You didn’t have to be so obvious when you were ogling me, you know,” she teased. Then a thoughtful look crossed her face. “Oh, and by the way…” She trailed off and kissed him deeply, pressing his lips with her tongue to gain entry, which he granted gladly, stroking her tongue with his own. They drew apart when they realised some of the younger students were staring at them in fascination and alarm, perhaps wondering how on earth they could go so long without breathing. Harry looked deep into the twin brown pools. “What was that for?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly. She smiled at him. “Does there have to be a reason?” she chided. “But, actually, I realised I never thanked you for those dress robes.” Harry shrugged, looking sheepish. “You told me you liked them, and I’m sure you knew then that I got them, so I felt like you had thanked me… not that I’m complaining, you understand.” He captured her lips again, but lighter this time, and then pulled her to him. “If you knew then how I felt, and you felt the same way about me, why did it take us more than a month to get anywhere?” Ginny looked sad now, almost sorrowful. “I wanted you to say it. Not just wanted; needed. I needed to be sure of it, that it wasn’t my hopeful imagination making stuff up, which it has done in the past.” Harry was sad as well now. “I’m sorry it took what it did to bring me to my senses. I should have told you so long ago…” Ginny placed her fingers on his lips, silencing him, a loving smile replacing the regretful expression. “We’re together now, Harry, and besides, how could I expect a thick seventeen year old to realise I liked him? I think I might have overestimated quite a bit.” Harry smiled at her disarmingly, before attacking her with tickles in retribution for the barb. When her shrieks had died down, they settled together quietly again, Harry stroking Ginny’s soft, crimson hair gently. “Speaking of seventeen year olds,” he said slowly, a sly note creeping into his voice, “I believe, Miss Weasley, that your birthday is fast approaching.” Ginny fluttered her eyelashes, pretending to flirt. “Why yes, good sir, as it so happens it is. Can I expect a truly special day?” “Let’s just say I have plans for the evening,” he said softly, his tone decidedly mysterious. Ginny turned to him, looking puzzled, curious and slightly alarmed, but Harry merely kissed her again, winked, and went off to his dormitory for the night, leaving Ginny feeling rather worried. ~*~ Ginny woke up on her birthday feeling happy but… apprehensive somehow. It was a cold day, snow still thick on the lawns and the forbidden forest and with no signs of melting, but the sun illuminated the grounds until they almost glowed white, and the pale sky didn’t suggest more snow to come. The breeze was cold and stiff, and Ginny hastily shut the curtain of her dorm room again, shivering slightly, but that blast of cold air had done more to wake her up than a gallon of coffee would have. She dressed quickly and warmly and hurried down to the common room, hoping to meet Harry to go down for breakfast, but he wasn’t there and when she asked around it seemed he had gone down already. She went as well, thinking she might join him there, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone already. She sighed and sat at the Gryffindor table, pouring a glass of orange juice for herself. She was just about to take a sip when Hedwig soared towards the table. The beautiful snowy owl was hard to mistake amongst all the brown, beige and grey of the other owls. Ginny wondered what she was doing, since Harry wasn’t here. Hedwig swooped down right in front of her, chirping cheerfully. Ginny reached out and stroked the soft, downy feathers gently. “Good morning, Hedwig,” she said softly, and the round amber eyes blinked at her in acknowledgement. “Are you looking for Harry? He’s not here.” Hedwig took no notice of this, but simply held out her leg, on to which were tied two envelopes, both addressed to Ginny, and in Harry’s untidy scrawl. She untied them quickly, and Hedwig, after stealing some bacon rind from an abandoned plate, flew up into the rafters again. Ginny opened the first envelope, which was a bright, gold-yellow. Inside was a birthday card, showing a snitch on the front that darted around, trying to avoid the reader’s gaze. She chuckled at that, realising how much it must have appealed to Harry, and opened the card. ‘Dear Gin, ‘Happy seventeenth birthday! ‘Just think of all those things you’re legally allowed to do now… ‘Your present will be waiting on your bed at lunchtime. Watch out for Ron: he should be giving you a bottle of Firewhiskey. Don’t let him fool you into thinking it’s something else. The idiot has no appreciation for it and is quite capable of wasting the lovely stuff on trying to get people drunk. Utter waste… ‘Have a great day. ‘Lots of love, ‘Harry’ Ginny smiled, feeling the stirrings of excitement in her stomach. Her present at lunchtime? Very interesting… and all this cloak-and-dagger stuff made it all the more intriguing. She slipped the card into her bag and opened the other envelope, which was a weird, metallic colour, shimmering somewhere between grey and pink. The card inside was black, with a square of gold foil in the centre, the image of a lioness clearly impressed on it. She grinned, delighted at the amount of effort Harry had put in to this, and read the message inside. ‘My darling Ginny, ‘I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day, and that you remember that I love you more than anything. At seven o’clock, after dinner, use the gift I gave you at Christmas in the way I told you about. Dress warmly. ‘I’ll be thinking of you all day, ‘Harry’ Ginny’s heart was beating faster now. It was clear that Harry wanted to keep his celebration of her birthday and their first Valentine’s Day together as a couple separate, but… what was he planning? Why couldn’t he tell her where to go, instead of telling her to use the Portkey ring? It made little sense to her. He must be planning something special, though. What could it be? Her mind provided her with an answer. She blushed to the roots of her hair. Surely, he wouldn’t have planned… that. Surely. He wouldn’t, would he? Ginny cursed herself. Of course he could. He was, after all, a warm-blooded, male teenager, in love, and in a very steady relationship. Neither of them doubted the other loved them utterly, and what better time than this to… She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence. She could barely concentrate for the rest of the day, her distraction evident to her teachers who all asked whether she was quite all right, and whether she needed to visit the hospital wing. She declined each one, but the concern of her classmates and Professors didn’t help her anxiety. It was alleviated briefly when she got up the courage to go to her dorm room at lunchtime and find her present. It was hardly easy to miss. A magnificent cloak lay on her quilt, a stunning, beautiful thing made of some material as light and soft as silk, but as warm as the thickest wool. In fact, it was probably silk enchanted with a permanent heating charm. She ran her hands over it, revelling in the almost decadent feel of the fabric. The colour was a rich, dark red, exactly the colour of her hair, except for dark gold embroidery around the hem and collar, which traced the shape of tongue-shaped flames as if they were licking at her feet. The fastening was gold, and in the shape of a Gryffindor lion, rampant and with claws outstretched, except that it had no mane. She realised it was actually an image of her. She couldn’t resist, but tried it on immediately. Looking at the mirror, the idea of the fire was brought further into dominance, because every time she moved, every flap of material or shimmer across her body, sent ripples of light down the length of the cloak, until it almost looked like a distant bonfire, or the glow of dying embers. She realised at once that she had to wear this tonight; after all, the message had said to dress warmly. Unfortunately, that brought her mind back to what she was certain was coming that evening, and she froze for a moment before carefully taking off the cloak and dashing to the great hall for a hurried lunch. Needless to say, Harry was nowhere to be found. Lessons were finished for the day, and Ginny was getting nervous. She would go to Harry, of course she would. She loved him too much to deny him that. She was frightened, though. She couldn’t help wondering what she was doing. Earlier she had planned to eat as early as possible, since she had eaten very little for lunch, but she found that she had no appetite. Soon, though, she went back up to her dorm, forcing herself to breathe normally, and she found herself becoming almost numb to the anticipation, calmly detached in a way she wasn’t completely sure she liked. She failed miserably when she tried to distract herself with homework, and soon resigned herself to getting ready for her special evening. At the stroke of seven in the dot, she pushed the tiny emerald on her ring, feeling the warmth of the cloak and the comfort of her magical bracelet and pendant. At once the familiar feeling of her navel being jerked violently hit her, and she stumbled slightly as she landed in the snow and the dark, when a strong pair of hands caught her from behind. At first she was scared. Looking around wildly, not really taking in the hands grasping her, she realised that she must be deep in the Forbidden Forest. The sky was dark now, and there was no moon. She could just make out a few stars between the shadowy branches, but apart from that there was no light, despite the fact that she could see the white snow against the dark trees all around her. She was in a clearing, the ground so tangled with thick, gnarled roots that there was no room for trees. Suddenly she realised she was being held gently and whirled around, but the sight before her made her almost melt in relief. Harry was standing behind her, holding her arms softly and she could tell he was smiling. With a gesture he lit up the clearing until Ginny was almost dazzled and his green eyes seemed to shine with the reflected light. He bent close and kissed her twice. “Once for your birthday, and once for Valentine’s day, honey,” he said softly, and Ginny glowed at his use of the nickname. She pretended to pout. “Only once each?” Harry chuckled and drew her into a close hug, and Ginny felt as though she was almost burrowing into his chest, they were so close. He was wearing his favourite silver-grey cloak over a dark green sweatshirt and black jeans, and she thought he had never looked so handsome. Still, she was getting confused. If he had been planning… she coloured… that, why bring her out here, so far from the castle? “So…” she began, attempting and failing to sound nonchalant, “why are we all the way out here?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well, I thought it would be… well, romantic, I suppose, if we spent the evening out here, and maybe exploring it in our animagus forms.” He eyed her shrewdly. “Why? What did you think I was planning?” “Oh, nothing in particular,” Ginny lied quickly. Harry looked suspicious, but Ginny couldn’t help smiling, both in relief and at his plan: it sounded wonderful. Despite her ability, she hadn’t actually spent much time in her lioness form, as much as she liked it, and hadn’t spent any time as a lioness in the forest at all. Harry had, learning to find his way around with the extraordinary senses granted by the animal body. She was actually becoming quite excited by the idea, and soon Harry extinguished the illumination charm, but that didn’t matter because they had both transformed in an instant and could see perfectly with their feline vision. Ginny had been to the forest before on occasion; not as many times as Ron, Hermione and Harry, certainly, but she had had a few Care of Magical Creatures classes in the outskirts when Hagrid would show them some of the wonderful and fascinating creatures that lived there, and there was also the time she, Ron, Neville and Luna had gone in to find Harry and Hermione, two years before, and had ended up leaving on Thestrals. Never before, though, had she realised how alive the forest was. The very ground pumped with verdant life, and she could hear the rustling of insects and small creatures in the undergrowth, the distant movement of larger creatures, all of whom kept well clear of the two lions, sensing the danger there. Her innate tracking skills also alerted her to every mark in the earth, every irregularly broken branch and every concealed pile of droppings that indicated the presence or passing through of some creature, perhaps a deer, a centaur or even a Unicorn. Despite the fact that there was no prey, for the first time in her life Ginny Weasley felt what it was like to be the hunter, the predator. The sensation of it thrilled and excited her, and she butted her head lightly against Harry’s white flank, silently thanking him for this wonderful gift, showing her affection the only way she could right then. He turned to face her and bared his teeth in an unmistakable smile. They walked on, through the dark, cold night, silent as shadows and alert to every unexpected motion. Soon, though, Ginny began to get tired and, realising that it would probably take a while to get back to the castle, transformed. The cold was shocking after her time in her warm pelt, even with the charmed cloak wrapped tightly around her, and suddenly she was no longer able to see and hear everything. She saw the dark shape that was Harry blur and straighten into his human shape. He looked at her enquiringly. “Sorry, Harry, but I’m getting pretty tired. Do you think we could head back to school?” Harry smiled. “Sure. It might be nice to get warmed up by the fire for a while, too.” They transformed again, and started back towards the open grounds. They hadn’t gone too far when they heard crashing noises in the bushes all around them. Harry snarled, but just then a Centaur with wild-looking black hair charged over a sapling, saw them and changed direction. Bane didn’t bother to greet them: he knew who they were. “It has started. They are at the gates. Come, follow me. I will show you the quickest route.” He said no more but sprang away into the undergrowth, and the two lions charged after him, feelings of dread and anticipation filling their bodies. They were careering wildly, all sense of direction gone, their only clue the shape of Bane in front of them. Branches whipped and tore at their bodies but they ignored them, racing desperately to reach the advancing army. Soon they reached the tree line. They couldn’t see the Death Eaters, Dementors and Giants that undoubtedly were on the grounds by now, but Harry transformed rapidly, conjured a piece of parchment and wrote on it rapidly with his wand. ‘Hermione, this is it, the big one. Voldemort’s here. ‘I don’t want loads of people in danger, but we are going to need some help. Get as many reliable Patronus casters as possible outside on the steps, and make sure each one has a partner to defend them. The Centaurs will deal with the Giants for us, but we need to protect them from the rest. ‘Ginny and I will be there very soon. Good luck. See you, Ron and everyone when it’s all over. ‘Harry’ He tapped the parchment with his wand, banishing it straight to Hermione’s side, or so he hoped. Then he and Ginny ran, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, until they reached Hagrid’s hut. The sight that met them there froze Harry’s blood, and he felt Ginny stiffen beside him. Two bodies lay on a patch of rapidly darkening snow. One was massive. The other was no bigger than them, but was topped by a head of bright, silvery-blonde hair. Over this figure another was kneeling, as though trying to embrace it, dark hair spilling over her face. Harry and Ginny approached and Padma Patil looked up at them, tears streaming down her face as she hugged Draco’s lifeless body to her. There was blood on her robes as well, and Harry felt sure that some of it must be her own, but his gaze was drawn repeatedly back to the two bodies. Hagrid looked strangely peaceful, his black hair and beard as wild and rugged as ever, his moleskin coat soaked with snow and blood. Harry could hardly believe it. Hagrid. Hagrid, his first ever friend, before even Ron… he was dead. Gone. It didn’t hit him for a moment, until he heard the hut’s door opening and Fang walking slowly to his master’s dead body, and the boarhound’s whining as he nudged the unresponsive corpse. Draco’s expression was full of hatred, but also a determination that Harry couldn’t help but admire, and he was sure Padma, who was still crying softly, had a lot to do with that. She mumbled a few words through the tears. “His… his own father… how could anyone do… that to their… own child?” Ginny sobbed and buried her face in Harry’s shoulder, and Harry hugged her close, before moving to Padma and embracing her as well, sensing the Indian girl’s need for comfort. Two dead already. He had never really trusted Draco, but the Slytherin really had changed sides, if he was killed by his own, inhuman father. Harry wanted to scream and lash out at the injustice of it all, but there was no time. Already, the sounds of battle were reaching them, the cries of the Centaurs and the roars of the Giants floating clearly over the snow. He wanted to mourn, to grieve for two good people who deserved better, but he couldn’t. Not now. Because he was needed. He hugged Ginny to him again, and addressed Padma. “Look, you’re injured. You can’t fight like this, and you can’t stay here. Go into the hut and stay there. Someone will come for you when it’s over.” He watched her hobble painfully to the door, and as she sank on to the bed he made a very subtle hand gesture. She slumped onto the bed immediately, the deep, dreamless sleep only magic could provide claiming her quickly as Harry closed the door, making sure Fang was inside as well. Then he and Ginny, trying not to think about what they had already seen, transformed again and sprinted towards the battle that was raging on the grounds. The sight was almost surreal. Giants loomed, blacker against the black sky, while Centaur shapes whipped round them, dodging fists, hammers and clubs with phenomenal speed. One or two of the Giants were already on the ground, thrashing against the magically enhanced ropes that Dumbledore had provided and which now lashed them to the frozen earth. Patroni of many different shapes charged around the lawns, ploughing over and scattering groups of fluttering Dementors wherever they went. Harry recognised Hermione’s lightning-fast otter and Ron’s enormous bear among many others, seeming to fight together, before they reached the stairs to the castle, beyond the approaching dark wizards before they knew it. The members of the DA by the huge double doors were, understandably, alarmed by the very sudden appearance of two lions from amidst the throng of darkness into which they were firing spell after spell, and only the presence of Professor McGonagall, who of course recognised the pair of them, kept the students in their places long enough to see them transform back to human shape. A few gasped in surprise as their leader and his girlfriend appeared where the lions had been, but they didn’t have time to consider the miracle, because now the spells were being returned. The Death Eaters had been struggling, until now. The snow was deeper than they had thought, and the way to the castle uphill. The confusion around them, coupled with the bright lights of the Patroni disorientating them and destroying their night-vision, caused them to have to fight hard even to reach their opponents. Now, though, they were within range, and the lights spilling from the castle illuminated its defenders clearly enough for them to attack, which they did, hard. The partner strategy was a good one, devised by Ron and demonstrated to the DA by Harry and Ginny fighting off eight other members. The idea was that, while one of the pair concentrated on shielding the two of them from enemy curses and hexes, the other would fight back, able to think clearly and focus, not worrying about defending themselves. It was difficult, though. It required a measure of power unusual in most students to be able to shield two people satisfactorily, and an even greater measure of trust on your defender to be able to focus entirely on retaliation. Not many of the members had mastered it, and all those who had were on the steps, battling for their own lives and the lives of everyone inside. Harry realised he was running on almost pure adrenaline right now, and that sometime soon he was going to have to rest for a long time, just to give his body a chance to catch up. He couldn’t stop, though, not while Tom was still there, still alive. This was the night. It finished now. He saw one or two people to his side go down, without time to see who they were or whether they were dead or just injured. “Avada Kedavra!” All of a sudden, he felt a curse coming, and knew instinctively that it was from Tom. It was also aimed right at Ginny, and she couldn’t defend herself from it. He swung his arm up and across, his arm covering her face, but it wasn’t enough, it was going to hit… It hit the blade of his sword, there in his hand suddenly, appearing as timely as when he had pulled it from the sorting hat in the Chamber of Secrets. The green jet flickered off it insanely fast at a steeply acute angle, bouncing back into the mass of cloaks, hoods and masks. One fell to the snow, not knowing how or why. Ginny clutched Harry’s arm, and he realised that silence had settled over the battle temporarily, as everyone regained their breath and stared at the shining silver sword in Harry’s hand. He felt energy entering him, empowering him, from the sword yes, but also from where Ginny was holding him. He straightened up, slowly and deliberately, and carefully slotted his wand into the ruby-encrusted hilt. He then pointed it towards the Death Eaters. He didn’t know, even years afterwards, how he knew what to do just then. The knowledge was simply there, in his head, without the need of learning or memory. He drew the sword to his side, held high, angling the blade towards the now fearful Death Eaters, and brought it slashing across his body in wide arc, so that it finally came to rest in front of Ginny, guarding her from harm. The blade hit nothing, but a band of red light, trailing in the wake of the silver blade, shot outwards, catching every Death Eater in the chest and throwing them back fifty feet. Professor McGonagall recognised a stunner when she saw one, but had never seen a spell so powerful that it could take out so many enemies at once. And Harry had not even said the word… One tall, dark, hooded figure remained standing. The Dementors had long since retreated, gliding back away from the castle in the face of the Patroni assault. The Giants were all immobilised, bound to the ground and guarded by Magorian’s herds. Only this one figure remained, dark against the white snow, and he slowly lowered his hood, revealing two slit-like nostrils and serpentine, red eyes. Every student backed away as the hatred rolled from Voldemort like a wave, pressing them back towards the doors as he strode deliberately forwards. Harry confidently and resolutely walked towards his nemesis, Ginny moving determinedly at his side. Voldemort stopped, surveying the two who opposed him. He sneered. “Very touching.” His voice was low, a strangled hiss, and laced with a cruelty that made Harry shiver in spite of himself. “And very impressive too, Potter. I admit, I might have underestimated you. You obviously have some power. But nothing compared to mine, I think.” Harry raised the sword again, his arm level, and pointed it straight at Tom, who looked interested. “Ah yes, the sword of Godric Gryffindor. I believe you used it before, to slay my basilisk. Remarkable. To think that you are now with the person who attacked all those mudbloods…” There was murmuring at this, since no one knew that it had been Ginny who had controlled the basilisk, but she held firm, clutching Harry, holding him to her and glaring down at Riddle, her wand raised. “Truly symbolic, but you are not the only one who has thought beyond the brotherhood of our wands, Potter.” And with that he withdrew from his robe a weapon that Harry had never seen before, but he knew what it was, and almost, at that very moment, laughed at the cruel irony: the dark lord, employing a morningstar. Voldemort noticed Harry looking at the weapon and took it for fear. “Yes, it is rather intimidating isn’t it, Potter? But fitting, I think for me to crush your skull in front of everyone, so that none will be left in doubt any longer that I am all-powerful!” His voice rose in pitch and volume, becoming a shriek as he lifted the handle of his weapon and began to whirl it round his head, the spiked ball of iron at the end of the chain an invisible blur in the air. Then he charged. Harry stepped towards him but away from Ginny. His Laminamancy kicked in without him having to think about it, and soon he was ducking and weaving, evading the whirling ball of death by inches and landing cut after cut on Voldemort’s body, although they didn’t seem to harm him, and Harry realised that there was some kind of shield protecting his body. He didn’t turn, but could almost feel Ginny’s anxiety along with the love she was pouring at him. Her thoughts seemed to run into his, he felt them coming from her, until he could no longer tell which of them was thinking, although he knew it didn’t matter. ‘The sword doesn’t hurt him… but that thing will really hurt if he hits me with it. I’ve got to end this.’ The thought was firmly implanted in his mind, and he knew what to do. As Voldemort raised the morningstar above his head, ready to crash it down, Harry darted forwards and thrust the sword upwards. He felt the impact as the chain hit the blade, beginning to wrap around it, and straight away he kicked Voldemort in the chest and swung the sword downwards. Voldemort was thrown back by the kick and the morningstar was jerked out of his hands. Its momentum carried it, flinging it off the sword, but Harry had aimed it a good distance away, too far for Voldemort to retrieve it. Voldemort rose to his feet, his eyes flashing with hatred, but the sword was raised, the point levelled at his heart, and Harry felt Ginny by his side once more, by his side and in his mind and in his heart. He held her close. Voldemort raised his wand, still deadly, still hating. “This is not over, Potter,” he spat. “I am still more powerful than you. I have spent decades increasing my strength and my abilities. I can do things you could not imagine in your worst nightmares, and I tell you now that you are going to die, slowly and painfully, but before you die you will watch your precious Ginny screaming for the pain I will put her through.” Ginny twirled her wand in her hand and pointed it at herself. “I’ll kill myself before I let that happen,” she growled, but Harry hugged her tighter, his hand and arm still level and steady as stone, his eyes still on the burning coals of his enemy. “So, one of us is going to die, Tom,” he said, his voice soft but carrying through the still air. “That’s what the prophecy said, you know, that one of us would kill the other. Of course, it also said that you would mark me as your equal, which of course you did… you gave me this scar,” he said, running his finger over the lightning bolt, “and a certain amount of your powers as well. But the prophecy also said that I would have a power you wouldn’t. Something you could never understand, let alone have. And that’s why I’m going to win.” Voldemort hissed, his rage growing in his eyes, but he could do nothing with the sword still aimed straight at his heart, his face. “Let’s say you kill me tonight, Tom.” Harry’s voice was light and casual, as though the prospect of his own death and the inevitable doom of the Wizarding and Muggle worlds were somehow inconsequential. “Let’s say I die and you live. No one will be able to stop you, you know that. You’ll take the castle, eventually, and kill, enslave or convert everyone here. And then you’ll take the rest of the country, the Ministry, and then the Muggle community as well. I really believe that you could take over the entire world, and you would only gain in power. Maybe you’ll find the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone and live forever, an absolute ruler for eternity. Is that what you want?” The students, teachers and even Voldemort himself couldn’t even guess what Harry was getting at. Why talk like this, now? But then Harry spoke again, and his words jarred something deep inside Voldemort. “Sounds a bit rubbish to me, Tom.” There was silence, although Voldemort seethed. “You might live forever, but you’ll grow old. And you’ll be the loneliest creature on the entire planet. Your friends… if you can call them that, of course… will die in your service. You wouldn’t share that ultimate power with them, would you? That would be monumentally stupid, after all. “Do you honestly believe life with unlimited power but with no one around you would be worth living? Oh yes, there would be people to kill and torture, to terrify and dominate, but no one would actually care. Not really. They’d fear you, hate you, and eventually one of them would overcome you. Eventually. It would probably take a long, very long time, but someone would find a way. And then you’d die, alone, and old, without having experienced the best life can offer. “I, of course, will have been dead a long time… dead and forgotten, unless you choose to make some mockery of my memory, which, knowing you, you probably would. “But I still will have won.” Voldemort flinched, his eyes flashing with anger but also a strange feeling almost like fear. “I might be dead, but I will have lived my life the best way I can. Sure, I have a few regrets, but I’ve known the best life can offer. I can die knowing what it’s like to hug my best friend, to feel the wind in my hair, the snow against my cheek. I can remember what it’s like to ride a Hippogriff, and I can relive how excited I was after beating your memory and killing the basilisk. I’ve seen a lot of bad things, but I’ve led a pretty brilliant life. Not least because I know what it’s like to love someone, and have them love me back.” Harry had lowered his voice by now, so that only Ginny and Tom could hear him, but his arm remained completely steady. He felt Ginny curled into his arm, feel the love and pride and small amount of sadness coming from her. He tightened his grip. “That’s why I’ve already won, Tom,” he whispered. “Because I have that, and it’s something you never will, because you sacrificed any ability you had to experience love when you devoted yourself to power and hate. You lost that moment, before you tried to kill me, before I was even born I expect. That’s also why I can’t hate you any more, Tom. Yeah, you’ve done bad things to me, really bad things. You took away any family I ever had, but I found I still had one, which was something of a surprise. And I used to be frightened of you, too. I don’t fear you anymore either, Tom, because you can’t do anything worse to me than what you’ve already doomed yourself to. I can only pity you.” That was it. That was more than Voldemort could take. Every one of Harry’s words had slammed home as surely as any spell, and damaged the evil man more than any could have guessed, as though Harry was shooting fiery darts at him, not speaking more than he ever had in one go before. Tom’s rage finally broke loose, a terrifying wave of it pulsing out in all directions, causing the students at the top of the steps to whimper in fear, but it passed over Harry and Ginny. Harry remained silent, staring down at Tom, knowing what was coming and hoping against hope that what he thought only tentatively was true and would work. Tom raised his wand again. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” The green light was streaking straight at him, just as he remembered from his infant dreams, but he felt no fear. Instead all he could feel was Ginny clutching him, holding him, loving him, and he knew what he had to do. Just as at Christmas, two years before, the words were in his mind and on his lips before he knew it. He raised the silver sword to meet the oncoming flight of death. “PROTEGO AMORA!” The green light hit the very point of the sword. For a moment there was silence. And then Harry felt the sword pulse in his hand. In an instant the blade was enveloped in blinding, pure white light that spread from the metal to Harry and Ginny, still clutching each other tightly. It grew and softened and then grew again, fluxing around the point where the killing curse had hit the sword. A roaring sound filled their ears, and Harry and Ginny felt consumed by fire and wind, but not destroyed or harmed in any way. Instead they felt strengthened, almost purified. After a little while the light seemed to diminish, pulsing closer to the blade every time, until the silver metal simply glowed white. Harry looked along the blade and straight into the fearful, red eyes of Tom Riddle. He felt he had to say something. “I’m sorry, Tom.” The blast was so bright everyone closed their eyes. A beam of the same, pure white light shot along the blade of the sword and straight into Voldemort’s chest. For an endless moment he was held, rigid, head thrown back and face screwed up in a pain so intense it almost seemed like ecstasy. Then the beam appeared on the other side of him, completely impaling his body, and continued unimpeded into the grounds, illuminating the startled faces of the Centaurs. For a second, time seemed to freeze as Tom fought the inevitable. The light spread all around the tall, demonic body, wreathing Voldemort in white fire, and it consumed him just as it had Harry and Ginny. With him, though, Harry could feel all the hatred and grred and arrogance and fear and bitterness that had made Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort dissipating like morning mist. It was hard to see anything through the white inferno, but Harry though he glimpsed for a moment, the face ot Tom Riddle, the sixteen year old boy, his face no longer marred by the fevered lust for power that had led him to open the Chamber of Secrets, mouthing at him two words: 'thank you'. And then his body flew through the air along the beam of light, until it slammed into the snow thirty metres away. He made no sound, and when the light faded the body was only recogniseable because of its shape, but no one there that night ever doubted that he was dead. Harry slumped to the ground, his body suddenly registering its exhaustion and the fact that it was numb with cold. Ginny sank down with him, pulling him into a proper hug, as the people on the steps started to check each other, making sure they were all alright. For the moment no one seemed to want to disturb the two of them, and that was fine by Harry. His brain, groggy as it was, tapped him on the shoulder and reminded him he had something to do. He finally let go of the sword, his knuckles white from gripping it, and fumbled in the pockets of his jeans. He brought out the other box, opened it, and held it out to Ginny. “Ginny…” he croaked, “Will you marry me?” His voice was so slurred that, for a moment, Ginny didn’t understand what he was saying. And then the meaning filtered through, and she felt so happy she didn’t want to move from the snow and the night and Harry’s arms ever again. “Oh… Harry… yes of course!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Vaguely she heard him muttering, almost as if to himself, but it was actually to her. “I wanted to do it… ages now… love you… had to be sure… had to make him go away… I love you so much…” “I love you too, Harry,” she sobbed, before looking down at the exquisite ring he was still holding out to her. It was a very thin band of silver, and extruded outwards in a small crescent moon at the top, as though surrounding something that wasn’t there, and this arc was set with three small, perfect diamonds. Harry clumsily took it and slid it onto the same finger as the other ring. It fitted to the gold band perfectly, looking like extra decoration, the three diamonds highlighting the fire in the ruby and the emerald chips. It was the most beautiful thing Ginny had ever owned, and she flung her arms around Harry again. After a while, though, they realised they were cold and stumbled to their feet. Ron and Hermione were waiting for them at the top of the stairs. “Harry, you did it!” Hermione screamed and threw herself on him, and Harry, weaker than he realised, almost fell under her, but Ron was there, giving him a brotherly hug and supporting him at the same time. Then the same thing happened to Ginny. They were just about to go in, when Harry heard the sound of hooves crunching in snow. Harry turned and saw Magorian. Harry could not fathom the expression on his face. “We have fulfilled our duty. Our woods are safe, though five of my Centaurs lost their lives, and more are wounded.” Harry lowered his head. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I thought you would be safe.” A thin smile crept across his face. “And how many more would have died had we not fought now? No, Harry Potter, this is the best way. We knew the dangers when we agreed to work with humans, and though we have suffered losses, the victory was ours. We go to mourn tonight, and tomorrow is a new day… in every way. Tomorrow is the start of the new world. And we thank you for giving us the chance to see it.” In a sign of unprecedented respect, Magorian bent his front legs in a dignified bow. Harry, too stunned to do much else, returned the gesture. Then Magorian rose, nodded slightly, and headed back to his herds, who were returning to the forest. Harry was silent for a moment, but then returned to the others and came to the entrance hall. Hermione was speaking excitedly. “Professor McGonagall told us to go to the great hall. The whole school’s being summoned!” She made to go, but Harry put a gentle hand on her arm. “Hermione, you should know. Draco and Hagrid didn’t make it. They were killed. And someone needs to get Padma from his hut…” Parvati Patil and Dean who were passing on their way to the hall, nodded briskly and set off into the grounds. Hermione’s face had gone from joy to pain so fast it seemed unnatural. She began to cry, softly but strongly, and Ron pulled her to him, stroking her hair gently but looking just as sad. The full enormity of it hit Harry then, and he wanted to curl up in a corner and cry just as Hermione was doing… but Ginny leant her head against his shoulder, and he realised there would be time for that later. There would be time to grieve. He turned to Ron. “How are the DA?” Ron tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. All alive, thank God,” he began quietly. “A couple are out cold in the hospital wing and will be for a while, and Colin’s got a devilish cut right across his face, but everyone will be fine.” Harry nodded, took a deep breath, then reached out towards Hermione’s cheek and wiped away the tears. She looked at him and smiled sadly. Then her eyes caught something. “Harry, I thought you said your sword said Godric Gryffindor?” Harry lifted the weapon and looked at the blade. It was then he realised it was very different. The metal was no longer silver, but what looked like white gold, and there was only one ruby, small and modest, right in the crosspiece. There were other stones, though: a sapphire, an emerald and a diamond, set into the crosspiece with the ruby, forming the shape of a circle. And along the blade was inscribed one word: ‘Peredur’. Harry shook his head. He couldn’t think about this now. He sheathed the sword and looked at his friends. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.” And with that, the four of them walked into the noise and the light. (AN: ...) |
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