The old Riddle mansion stood looming over the battle like a vulture, eager for the kill. It was hungry for fresh meat, just like its only heir. Voldemort stood in the middle of the battle, toe to toe with Harry Potter. Lightening split the sky in two, sheeting across it like the angry angel of death. Black clouds roiled overhead, as the storm was born, and torrents of rain fell, drenching all the participants of this the last battle for the freedom of all mankind.
Harry had come to the Riddle mansion to destroy the last Horcrux. He'd watched in triumph with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as the locket melted away to nothing when the acid like potion touched it. In the middle of the feelings of triumph, he felt anger such as he'd never known, for the making of this potion had meant they'd delved into dark magic. Harry would never forgive himself for descending to the level of a dark wizard.
He knew he shouldn't blame himself; there hadn't been any other choice. He'd had the locket in his possession for months, while the four of them ran from Voldemort's death eaters. All the while they had been working feverishly to find a way through the Light to destroy it. Finally, Hermione had given up in despair, and told them the potion made from dark magical ingredients, and incantations was the only way. She also told them they would have to go back to the Riddle Mansion, as the spell demanded to be performed at the paternal home of the one who created the Horcrux.
He should have known that Voldemort would some how be informed of what they were doing, after all one didn't use dark magic, and go unnoticed in these times. As they were exiting the Mansion, thunder boomed, and in the stroboscopic lightening, more than a hundred black robed figures appeared, and surrounded the four of them.
It should have been over for the four teens right then and there, but Harry hadn't been stupid, he'd informed the order of what he was going to do. The Aurors in hiding around the mansion had come out of cover, silently casting spells as they came.
No one saw who cast the first spell between Harry and Voldemort, who were circling each other like two street brawlers. There were sparks, and jets of light shooting from each of their wands. If they'd been alone, and Muggles had been watching, they would have thought the two men were playing a game. Each man was silent in their spell casting. Harry had finally mastered this skill, and he'd also become adept at Occlumency.
He scar burned as though he'd just been cut, the pain was nearly unbearable, but he'd forced himself to shut it out. Golden sparks flew at him from Voldemort's wand and he leaped aside. His foot came down on a rock, and his ankle turned over painfully. He slipped on the muddy grass, and fell at the feet of his worst enemy.
"Well… I must say that this has been too easy. If I'd known all I had to do to beat you, was to trip you up, I would've had the Malfoy brat trip you down the main stairway at Hogwarts." Voldemort laughed, and pointed his wand at Harry's throat.
Harry tried to get up, but it felt like the ankle was broken, or badly sprained. "Well… go on then… finish me off if you think you can. You couldn't kill me as a baby, and you won't be able to do it now." Harry tried to sound braver that he felt. In truth, he wasn't sure that the destruction of the Horcruxes had weakened the sorcerer. He didn't look weak.
Voldemort lifted his wand and shouted "Avada -" He screamed as a large gash appeared in his side. Harry hadn't cast the spell, he turned, and saw a Death Eater throw his mask aside, as he strode toward Harry and Voldemort. His dark hair was plastered to his head, and face in an instant; his black eyes glittered in the flashes of lightening.
"Finish it Potter… do it now… while you still can," he shouted. Harry didn't stop to think why Snape had just turned on his master. He lifted his wand, concentrated all of the love he felt for Ginny, his friends, and his parents, and pointed it at Voldemort. He muttered "Amor moste potente" a ray of brilliant white light shot from his wand, and passed through Voldemort. He was gone with an agonizing scream, and a burst of golden light. Even his robes, and wand were destroyed in the blast.
Harry fell back on the grass, and tried to remember how to breathe. The last spell had taken most of his magical strength, and he could feel the world swirling around him, and then he was pulled down into darkness.
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When he awoke in St Mungo's one week later, it was all over. Most of the remaining Death Eaters had been rounded up, and sent to the new wizard's prison on Skull Island. It was guarded by a contingent of Aurors, who'd been specially trained by the Ministry after the dementors defected to Voldemort's side. The trials were expected to begin in the next week and most had no doubt they would all spend the rest of their lives on that wretched rock.
Opening his eyes had rewarded him with the sight of his beloved wife, her family and Hermione. His head felt as though it would split in two, but his ankle was fine, fixed by the Healers just minutes after he'd been brought in from the battlefield.
Ginny leaned in to kiss him, and it was like the first time. The last months had been hard on them, from their wedding in secret, to the hunt for the last Horcrux, to the last battle. There had been too little time for romance, and he'd missed her so much.
"Hi babe, it's about time you woke up, and joined us in the real world." She gently chastised him, because in truth she'd been terrified that he wouldn't wake up. She had the assurances of the Healers that he would wake up when his reserves were restored, but she had still been deeply afraid.
"Ginny, where am I, what happened?" He remembered the battle of course, just not how he come to be where he was. Why was everyone so relived to see him awake? Had he been hurt that badly? He didn't remember.
"You're in St Mungo's; you've been out of it for awhile."
"How long is awhile, Ginny?"
She bit her lip and looked at Healer Tower. He nodded his head and she turned back to her husband. "Honey, you've been asleep for a week."
"What," he yelled in shock. He couldn't believe it; he'd thought only minutes had passed since he'd seen Voldemort disintegrate in front of him.
"Mr. Potter calm yourself, or I'll ask these people to leave." the Healer stood tapping his foot like a school teacher with an unruly student. The man had hair the unfortunate shade of burnt umber, and his eyes were a watery blue, and tiny. Harry wondered how he saw well enough to do his job. His voice sounded like a garden gate that needs oil. He was extremely tall, and thin, he looked as though a strong wind could blow him away.
"Listen to Healer Tower dear, you need to get your strength back," she, said while she pulled the pillows out from under his head and began to fluff them with her wand.
"Molly I feel fine, I just can't believe it's been a week. What's been happening, is everyone else okay?"
He tried to get out of bed, but Molly pushed him back.
"Mr. Potter, I won't tell you again to calm down, and rest, if you can't do it on your own, I can give you a calming potion." Harry nearly laughed out loud when the image of Healer Tower in Snape's dungeon, teaching potions came to mind. This man would make a fitting replacement for the old vampire.
"Okay… all right keep your hair on."
The Healer ran his wand over Harry again after elbowing an indignant Molly out of the way. He frowned over the results, and Harry was sure that meant they were good news. He turned abruptly, and walked out of the room, muttering to himself about "celebrities."
"Hey Harry, where did you find him," George asked.
"He's a very pleasant fellow -" Fred continued. "So kind and caring to the infirm," George finished.
Molly glared at the twins, and was about to lecture them on manners when Arthur appeared in the door way.
"Harry, they told me you had awakened. How are you son?" He moved through the others a placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"I'd be a lot better if I could get out of bed. They don't seem to believe that I feel fine!"
"I'm sure you do Harry, it's just that everyone has been so worried about you. We want you to be okay." Harry found that he couldn't argue with Arthur's reasonable tone, and he agreed to do as the healers wanted, for now.
"All right everybody out of this room, let the boy get some rest. Molly began to shoo everyone out waving her hands at them, as if they were chickens to be herded into a coop.
Ginny ignored her, and sat down in the chair next to his bed. "Ginny, come along, he needs to rest."
"No, mum I'm staying with my husband." She rolled her eyes and Harry laughed. They had been married for just under a month ,and Molly still treated them like they were little children. Molly left with the others, but her eyes promised her daughter they would be talking about this later.
When they'd all left, Ginny leaned over a kissed Harry. "Hello husband, I missed you so much." He looked up to see that there were tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
He reached up, and wiped one away with one of his fingers. "Hey, it's okay, I'm fine Ginny."
"You scared me Harry Potter; you frightened all of us to death. We thought that you might not wake up." She had been pacing restlessly like a tiger around the room, and suddenly she threw herself down on her knees next to his bed ,and put her head on his chest.
"I love you so much; I couldn't bear to lose you." She began to cry in earnest, and all he could do was stroke her fiery red hair, and mummer softly to her. Eventually she did stop crying, and she moved back into the chair next to the bed. She sat for a long time just holding his hand.
He wanted to get out of that hospital bed. He began to gently persuade her to talk to the healer, and try to convince him to let Harry go home to Godric's Hollow. The home had been restored with some of the money he'd inherited from Sirius. He'd had the work done in spite of Voldemort's threat, because there was no where else he wanted to live when it was over.
"Are you sure you are ready to leave, baby." Coming from her, the question wasn't insulting as some of Molly's well meaning comments had been.
"I really am fine, I'm just tired, and I want to sleep in my own bed, in my own house with my beautiful wife." He still couldn't believe she loved him, and had married him after he'd almost messed it up with her for good.
Molly hadn't been happy when her seventeen year old daughter had wanted to get married, but she couldn't stop her, she was of age. But eventualy Molly had come around, and Ginny was much happier now that she didn't argue constantly with her mother. It wasn't that Molly didn't approve of Harry; after all he was like her own flesh and blood son. She was concerned they were moving too fast.
Harry sat her down one night at the Burrow, and convinced her to see the wisdom of the decision. He'd reminded her that the times were perilous, and everyone needed to get happiness where ever they could. It was this that convinced Molly that the children would be alright. Harry had more wisdom in his eighteen years then she had learned until she was a mother. She admired this quality, and knew he would take care of her daughter.
He thought of all of this in the space of just a few minutes, while Ginny went out to hunt up the Healer, and try to get him released to his own home. She appeared again about fifteen minutes later with Healer Tower. He looked like he eaten a lemon for breakfast, when he again made a show of scanning Harry with his wand.
"Okay, Mr. Potter, physically you're fine, but your magic is still low. I would prefer if you would stay here for another few days, but your wife informs me that you wish to recuperate at your own home.
He said all of this, as if he were bestowing a great gift on Harry. It also had the distinct ring of a lecture from Professor McGonagall as well, and delivered in that unfortunate voice - well Harry decided it was best to agree to all the terms.
The Healer waved his wand, and a piece of parchment appeared which he signed with a flourish, and handed to Ginny. "Here are his release documents, please give them to the front desk when you leave. Mr. Potter, please use the Floo network to get home, no apparating!"
"Yes sir, I understand, thank you." Harry was suffering from suppressed laughter. He couldn't believe how pompous, and officious the man was.
"I'm just doing my job, I can assure you." He left the room without another word, and Harry and Ginny began to laugh. Oh… it felt wonderful to laugh. He'd thought for a long time that he would never laugh again, but it was alright, Voldemort was gone, and their lives could begin.
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The man strode with purpose through the stone room deep beneath the rooms of his Manor. His hatred of Potter, and his blood traitor wife pulsed through his veins like a tidal wave. His father was in prison because of them. He couldn't let it go without a response. He checked once more to make sure the wards around the room were strong. He didn't want any unwanted visitors until he had what he wanted.
"Are you sure this is the way to get your father released?" The whine in his mother's voice set his teeth on edge. He couldn't believe he came from her body.
"Yes mother, if you hadn't interfered 2 years ago -" He couldn't say it. His mother was weak. She'd claimed to believe in everything the Dark Lord taught his followers, but when it came to family she was annoyingly molly coddling. He blamed his failures on her. She'd show him compassion, when his father had none, and it had confused him. He'd had a moment of affection for his headmaster, and as a result his mentor had had to kill the old man. Voldemort had never forgiven him, and had tortured him at every opportunity.
"If you are going to criticize my plan, do it somewhere the infernal house elves can hear you, I don't want to listen to it." He backhanded her hard across the face, and she fell to the stone floor, where she lay weeping. He stepped over her, gazing down at her with loathing, and disgust. He longed to pull out his wand, and kill her. He wouldn't hesitate this time. He couldn't do it simply because she was his father's wife, and for some reason the man loved the bitch that lay before him.
"Get up, and get out of my sight!" He spat down at her. He longed for the time when he could be free of her, and her backsliding ways. Once his father was freed, he was going to leave England behind. He strode up the long stone staircase, planning where he would go once he done his last duty. He'd go to France, or maybe to the States. He'd heard the women in America were beautiful, and empty headed, surely he could find one there that would satisfy his needs.
He reached the main level of the large house, and continued up the marble staircase to his room. He went into his bedroom, and threw off the cloak he wore. His robes were of the best quality and blood red. They contrasted well with his pale skin, and grey eyes. His long blond hair was thick, and luxurious, his best feature. For the chance to touch it, most women would ignore the look of barely controlled fury that was ever present in his eyes.
He threw himself down on his bed, and picked up the photograph on the bedside table. It was a picture he'd paid the Daily Prophet dearly to possess. It showed the championship game at Hogwarts, during what would have been his seventh year. That was another slight he had to pay back. He was sure he would have been named head boy, and captain of the Slytherin House team, if he hadn't been forced into his failed mission to kill the old dingbat.
It was a team photo, the champions had been the hated Gryffindors. The captain that year had red hair that burned with inner fire, her cinnamon brown eyes were deep, and inviting. She was a pure blood, and he was sure that if she'd been raised by stronger parents, she would've been promised to him. As it was she was the wife of his worst enemy.
He began to laugh as he thought of what awaited the Potter's. They had no idea that their lives were over, it was just a matter of time. He would take Ginny Potter, and no one would be able to stop him. Once she had served her purpose he would kill her. Draco Malfoy stood up, and began to change his robes, and still he laughed, while Narcissa stood trembling out side his door listening to the note of insanity running through her son's voice.