Friday, September 05, 2003
A Slain Immortal
AusRotten911@hotmail.com
Please Review
Worse Than Death
Authors Note: This is my first Fan Fiction. I am not particularly skilled at writing as of yet, but I will get better over time. Of that I am convinced. This is my version of the final battle between Harry and Voldemort. It has been done before, but I am quite sure my version is unique. It may not be as well-written as some others, but it is unique. I would also greatly appreciate it if you reviewed. Give me your opinion of the story, or some advice on how to get the formatting done better, or whatever. Anyway, I don't mean to distract you from the story, so – enjoy.
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Hermione Granger was terrified. That would have been putting it mildly. There really was no way to describe her exact feelings at the moment. The general direction of them could be conveyed, of course, by the words Fear, Terror, Horror and Mind-Numbing-Panic. But these words didn't quite express the intensity of these feelings. You see, Hermione Granger, brilliant, brave, Gryffindor, was watching the one person she cared about more than anyone else in her life experiencing what would be, quite possibly, the last moments of his life.
Harry Potter lay bleeding in the center of the ring of stones that Muggles called Stonehenge. His dragon hide battle robes were torn and bloody, and very little remained of them. His wand lay snapped far out of his reach, and he seemed to be feeling the pain of his numerous wounds more than he normally would. He felt as though he could see better, too. And hear better, come to think of it. Harry could perform limited wandless magic, but in his present condition, there was absolutely no way he could reach his wand. He slowly moved his head, looking for a way out of this situation, when he spotted a pale face framed by bushy brown hair behind one of the forbidding bluestones. Her eyes had tears gushing out of them, and on her face there was an expression that Harry knew all too well. Despair.
For Hermione was indeed feeling despair. She couldn't feel her heart. It didn't feel heavy, or like it was being wrenched in two, or like it was being stabbed. It didn't even exist. Nothing really existed in her mind but the sight of Harry's twisted, bleeding body. And the tall, robed figure standing next to it. You see, Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort had just finished their final duel. Well, almost finished. Voldemort wasn't in perfect condition, but he was far healthier than Harry. He stood over Harry's twitching body, wand raised and slitted scarlet eyes glimmering with triumph. Hermione saw Harry's head swivel and look at her. Oh, those eyes. Harry's eyes were the only part of him that didn't seem to be affected. His eyes were so unusual, it was scary. They weren't the pale gray-green color that was so common among people; they were a vibrant, vivid green, and shone with tears. She knew, in that instant, what she had to do.
Forgive me, Harry.
Hermione formed any image of her body in her mind. About 160 centimeters, with brown eyes – like cinnamon and honey, Harry once said. She always thought they were so common – and bushy brown hair. Hermione was no beauty, and she knew it. But this time, it wasn't her outer appearance that she was focusing on, but her inner appearance. How the magic flowed inside her. She looked at her mental body again.
Magic wasn't something that flowed like blood. It was inherent in the cells of a magical person, and just not there in a Muggle. She had studied Muggle science after Hogwarts. It was always her belief that the magical world lost out by not using some of the Muggle inventions. No matter how fast an owl can fly, it cannot beat an E-mail. While studying the three main branches of science – Biology, Chemistry, and Physics – she applied their principles to magic and discovered and developed many things to help the Light Side. It would all be for naught if she failed here.
Having settled on all her cells, Hermione began to focus on the bits of magic located there. She concentrated on bringing them outward, to being under her full and conscious control. This was one of the hardest things to do in magic, to use your full potential.
The main thing necessary to perform a spell was not the magic within your body. It was the power of belief. Usually, with simple spells like Wingardium Leviosa, belief was not really required, but for complex spells like Fidelius and the spell she was now performing – it had no name – belief was the most important ingredient for success. Hermione hadn't believed this was possible until she had Dumbledore explain it to her. It took her months of secret training, secret even from Harry, to master it.
She pulled all the magic from her cells into the area that she could control- and weighed it. It was a substantial amount, only slightly less than Harry's, but it alone wouldn't be able to defeat Voldemort. However-
The great monument known as Stonehenge was built in the ancient mists of time on the Salisbury plain. Muggle archaeologists dated it as being from 1500 B.C.E. at the earliest, but in reality it was much older than that. The same spell that was put on magical books to keep them in pristine condition had been placed on Stonehenge, albeit on a much larger scale. Just like the spells on books weren't infinite in protection and duration, the spells on Stonehenge began to fade over time. However, it was almost certain that Stonehenge had existed during the time of Atlantis, some nine thousand years B.C.E.
The area at and around Stonehenge had so much magic in it because it was built by a group of magical people at the intersection of many prominent ley lines.
- She could pull in the magic from the air. Concentrating again, she visualized the air around her and drew from it the little particles of magic that would be used on her enemy.
She had christened them magions when she had discovered them. Heavier than any elementary particle ever discovered, they traveled extremely slowly- for a particle. Hundreds of miles an hour wasn't too shabby for us, but to an elementary particle, it was like standing still. Magions were also visible in large quantities, which is what made spells like Stupefy and Avada Kedavra visible.
Once she had all the magic she could gather, she turned her attention back to Harry and Voldemort. It seemed as though they had not moved, but she knew Voldemort wasn't as stupid as before. He would have killed Harry and not wasted time gloating. Then what had happened? She risked a quick glance at her watch and saw the second hand had barely moved.
So THAT'S how Dumbledore got all that energy so quickly. Time slows down when you do this, rather like traveling at the speed of light. Good thing for that, too, or else Harry would be-
Oh no.
The magic wouldn't kill Voldemort unless it had part of Harry in it. After all, that's what the Prophecy had said. But she could sense Harry's magic, and even though he may not have realized it, magically he was almost a Muggle. Physically, he had plenty of abrasions, cuts, bruises, and wounds, but magically he was barely even a wizard.
No, she said to herself, you have to do this.
Forgive me, Harry.
She felt down into his body, her mind scanning for the magic within his cells. It was so weak that she could barely detect it, and thanked her luck that time was slower when she was doing this.
Come on Harry; just have enough magic that this won't make you a Muggle.
Hermione knew she would die from doing this. There was no question about it. When Dumbledore had shown her, he had extracted the magic from his body and made it into a sphere. But he simply put it back in his body and then sat down to rest. She could still hear his words.
"Miss Granger, the usage of all the magic in the body is a tiring thing. When you extract it from your body, you are turning yourself into a Muggle. Yet, as a Muggle, you have to maintain control of all that magic. This itself is very difficult. Then there is also the fact that if you use up all the magic in your body, you do not turn into a Muggle. You either go into a coma or die. The magic in your cells is closely tied to their life mechanisms. If one goes, so does the other. You must be very careful to leave some of your magic intact."
Hermione had completely disregarded this piece of advice. This was a battle against Voldemort. There could be no half steps. She had to use all her magic, and she would willingly kill herself to save Harry and the entire magical world.
Forgive me, Harry
Harry Potter watched his best friend and lover intently. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw before he died. Voldemort was raising his wand when he saw Hermione sag where she was standing and a bright ball of magic appeared at her waist.
What is she doing?
She looked dismayed for a moment and then sagged some more. The ball grew larger. She looked as if her body was slowly being drained of energy…
Slowly being drained.
Drained.
"HERMIONE, NO!"
Damn. Now Voldemort knew she was here. This was what she had hoped to avoid. Luckily, she still had time. She quickly sucked as much magic out of as Harry as was necessary to perform the spell. This was the critical part. In his weakened state, could Harry survive long enough for her to do what needed to be done? She hoped fervently for it to be so. Had she been religious, she would have prayed.
With all the magic in the ball ready, she launched it.
Right at Harry.
The magic collided with Harry's body. At the exact same time, Hermione managed to choke out the words "I love you… Harry" before her body dropped to the ground, all life extinguished from her, like a candle with no oxygen. The magic surged through Harry's body, rejuvenating his cells and restoring his abilities.
His mind, though, lay broken, the shards of sanity he still possessed shattered and were lost forever. He had had so many losses in his life, his parents, his childhood, his godfather. Now this. His once best friend, now lover- no, more than that. Hermione wasn't just his lover. Harry didn't believe in true love, but he knew that Hermione was the only one he'd ever spend his life with. No matter who he was dating, she was always the single most important woman in his life - And now she was gone.
Harry felt a tremendous sensation of loss overwhelm him. His keening cries of grief were not those of a man, but those of one who does not have a mind. Emotions flashed through his mind with alarming rapidity. Loss. Fear. Pain. Grief. Stillness. And finally, Anger. Anger at the world. Anger at Voldemort. Anger at Hermione. Anger at Dumbledore. Anger at the universe in general, and all its inhabitants in particular.
The magic inside Harry was stirring. It had multiplied by a factor of a few thousand because of the intense emotions Harry was feeling. In a final burst of emotion that cannot be described, Harry expelled all the magic in his body.
The magic radiated outwards in shockwaves of white and red. It was not the kind of magic that gave you a warm and tingly feeling, like buying the wand that suits you. It was the kind of magic that utterly destroys everything it came in contact with. The first thing it hit was Voldemort. It completely annihilated his body, but then went on to rip his soul to shreds. The magic went on, ripping up the ground for miles around. The Muggle repelling charms Harry and Voldemort had put up at the beginning of their duel crumbled and fell, and the ground all around for miles was torn up. Dust and dirt rose into the air, tossing and turning from the sparkles of red that crackled about. The massive monolithic stones of Stonehenge shattered and crumbled, shards of them flying in all directions. The shards ripped right through Harry's body, spattering the newly turned up ground with blood. Harry's still constant screams off loss and pain echoed through the now noisy air. The magical output of his body increased and the stopped abruptly. The screams continued for a few seconds, then softened and stopped. Had anything been near Harry potter at that moment, it would have heard the soft word "Hermione" muttered, before the one who spoke left the world of the living.
Forever.