Disclaimer : Clearly everything in the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J K Rowling and not me. I'm just playing with her fantastic creations until she finds time to finish the real 'Seventh Book.' Starts after HBP ends and contains spoilers (for full summary see my bio)...
Please Note : This story was formerly called Harry Potter and the Seventh Book, It has been extensively reformatted, and I've edited out all the mistakes which have been pointed out to me. So this a repost. If you've read my version of 'Harry Potter and the Seventh Book' there won't be anything new here for you, unless, that is you didn't read the epilogue first time round. It's an integral part of the story so I strongly suggest you do.
Content Warning : This fic is called Harry Potter and the Ultimate Sacrifice for a very good (but not the obvious) reason. If you are expecting a Harry/Ginny & Ron/Hermione live a fairy tale happily ever after, then you will be sorely disappointed. While not exactly a tragedy, it is my hope that reading this will make you cry and, in the words of a reviewer (lonelyphantom), 'both love me and hate me at the same time' by the finish.
Harry Potter and the Ultimate Sacrifice
Chapter 1 : Express Planning
Harry turned away from Ron and Hermione and walked towards the lake shore. He didn't feel ready to head back to the castle and face the other Gryffindors, particularly Ginny. So instead, he stood gazing vacantly out over the lake towards the Forbidden Forest, idly watching the giant squid give a ten-tentacle salute in the direction of the funeral pyre.
For the first time in his life, Harry had a clear idea of what he needed to do in order to defeat Voldemort. He firstly had to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, which would make his nemesis mortal. Then he had to find a way to do the impossible and kill the evil wizard. After today, it was all up to him.
Everyone he had ever looked up to in his life was gone. Because of Voldemort, he could not ask his parents for advice, or his godfather, Sirius, and now he couldn't even ask his mentor, Dumbledore. Yes, Harry Potter knew what he had to do this summer - but how was he going to do it? He knew Ron and Hermione would be with him every step of the way, and their help would, as always, be invaluable. But Harry was worried about their safety. He knew that if he had any chance of succeeding, it would be because of them, but the responsibility weighed heavier than ever before. This time, there was no one to guide him. It was up to him to make decisions and give out the orders. This, more than anything, petrified Harry.
How on earth could three kids hope to find the Horcruxes where Dumbledore had failed? Also, considering the injuries that the great man had suffered, during his attempts to find the evil remnents of Voldemort's soul, how could they hope to destroy the Horcruxes even if they could find them? What if, like Dumbledore, Harry got it wrong and put his trust in someone like Snape? What if his decisions resulted in the death of Ron or Hermione?
Harry realised with a jolt that this was probably going to be the last time he would be at Hogwarts; the place which had been his home for the last six years. Sure, he'd known he would have to leave school eventually, but not in these circumstances. He fought the tears welling in his eyes as he silently bade goodbye to the forest, lake, Quidditch pitch, and to the spot where he stood now; under the little tree where he and Ginny had first … Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a combination of Hagrid's and Fang's howls resonating deeply from inside the gamekeeper's small hut.
Harry considered Hagrid to be a very loyal friend and knew how much he had idolised Dumbledore. As a result he felt he owed Hagrid a personal goodbye before he left on his quest. So he turned and walked slowly towards the hut. It was only as he started moving that Harry realised just how long he'd been stood looking out over the lake. All the guests had gone, and the chairs had been vanished.
Had he looked behind him, before he entered the hut, Harry would have seen a small freckled, tear-stained face, streaked with strands of long and unruly red hair. Ginny was watching his every move from a small dormitory window high up in Gyffindor Tower.
"Harry," bellowed Hagrid as he enveloped him in a giant and somewhat firmer hug than normal. Once Harry had broken free from Hagrid's grasp, the half-giant wobbled unsteadily and staggered back towards his chair.
"'e loved you, yer know. Thought of yer as the son 'e never had, and 'e was ever so proud of yer," hiccupped Hagrid over a giant bucket of what smelled suspiciously like firewhisky. Fang the boarhound barked in agreement as he dipped his nose into a similarly smelling bowl on the floor.
"Hagrid," said Harry softly. "I've come to say goodbye. I won't be back next year, I …"
Hagrid didn't appear to be listening. "Great man!" he bawled, raising his bucket in a drunken toast. "The best wizard that ever lived, and I always said the only one what You-Know-Who were ever afraid of."
Hagrid grabbed Harry round the shoulders and pulled him closer. "Dumbledore said that I was wrong, an' that You-Know-Who was afraid of you, Harry. And rightly so, 'cause I know yer the one whose goin' kill 'im."
Hagrid emptied his bucket with another giant gulp and swayed over to his bed. "Me an' Fang 'll be 'ere fer yer 'Arry if yer needs us. We'll keep 'Ogwarts safe. No ruddy Death Eater's goin' to get in me 'ome while there's still a breath left in me body." With that final word, Hagrid slumped back onto his unmade bed and started snoring loudly.
Harry took this as his cue to leave and headed back to the castle. He skirted around the Great Hall, where most of the students had gathered in preparation to take the thestral-driven coaches to Hogsmeade Station. He also bypassed the staircase to Gryffindor Tower,and instead turned towards the staff quarters; there was one more person he had to see before he left.
"Come in, come in," called out Professor Slughorn after Harry knocked on his door. A wave of déjà-vu swept over him as he walked through the door into Slughorn's quarters, for the Professor was packing his belongings, just as Lockhart and Professor Lupin had done in previous years. Harry shook the memories out of his head and decided to get straight to the point by asking Slughorn for a small favour.
"Anything, dear boy, anything at all," Slughorn began automatically, before stopping instantly and looking like he regretted making the offer.
"Professor Dumbledore told me once that you were a master Occlumens." Slughorn looked surprised but said nothing, so Harry continued," It was when he asked me to get that memory from you. I suggested he use Legilimency," finished Harry awkwardly. Slughorn remained silent, so Harry tried again. "In the battle last week, Snape used Legilimency to defeat me. He knew which spell I was thinking about and was able to block it before I even cast it. I need to be able to close my mind, to stop him anticipating my thoughts. I need you to teach me so that the next time I meet Snape I won't be so vulnerable."
Slughorn shuddered fearfully, "No, I will not teach you. If the Death Eaters find out about that, they will kill me for sure," he countered. "Now that Albus is gone, the school is bound to close. I have to go back into hiding to ensure my safety."
"If you teach me properly, they will never find out," replied Harry, his temper rising at the old man's stubbornness. "Wait a minute, you were the one that taught Snape Potions, weren't you? So does that mean you taught the greasy bastard Occlumency as well?"
Slughorn appeared to be flummoxed by this and looked down to avoid meeting Harry's eyes. "Is there anyone in the Death Eaters whom you're not responsible for teaching? You taught Riddle about Horcruxes. Because of you he's split his soul seven times," blurted out Harry in a rage.
"Seven! No," protested Slughorn weakly.
"Voldemort should have died when he attacked me as a child but instead he survived to kill many more innocent witches and wizards. You could have stopped it by telling Dumbledore! It's entirely your fault." Harry knew it sounded childish, but he felt he needed to rattle the cowardly Professor.
"Its not …" but Slughorn was cut off as Harry ranted on. "Then you taught Snape Occlumency so he could deceive, and finally kill, Dumbledore."
"No, I didn't know …"
"And now you won't even spend a few days to try and keep me alive. All you're interested in is saving your own miserable skin," finished Harry, his green eyes blazing with a fury that Slughorn had never seen before. Those vivid green eyes; Lily's green eyes.
"Alright, I'll teach you" he finally conceded, sinking weakly to his knees."
Calming himself Harry replied, "I'm going to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's until I'm of age. Do you think I can learn enough in a week? Perhaps you could come and stay the week before my birthday. You are, after all, used to being an unwelcome guest in a Muggle house."
"Alright," sighed Slughorn. "Send me your owl and I'll come and teach you. Given your ability in Potions, a week should be enough to get you the basics."
"Thank you, Professor. Oh - and if for some reason my owl can't find you, I'll send Mad-Eye Moody." Harry added in a pleasant tone but he was pleased to see Slughorn jump in fright at the implied threat, as he turned to leave the Professor's quarters.
Far from being buoyed by his success with Slughorn, Harry was demoralised that he had had to resort to losing his temper and virtually force the old man into capitulating. What chance did he have against the bad guys, if he had to threaten the good ones to even help him? Could he even consider Slughorn as a good guy, especially after the revelations of this afternoon?
Harry reached the portrait of the Fat Lady without seeing another person. "Goodbye" he told her softly as he looked around the corridor wistfully.
"That's not the password," she chided in reply, before letting him enter the almost-empty common room for the final time. The only occupants were Ron and Hermione, who acknowledged his, "better go and pack," with a, "left it a bit late haven't you, mate."
Harry headed up to the sixth year boys dormitory, looking sadly around the now deserted room. It looked so depressing and bare now that Ron had removed his bright orange Quidditch posters and Dean his purple football ones. Harry flung open the curtains to his four-poster and was rudely awoken from his depression by a resounding slap across the face.
"How dare you break up with me, Harry Potter," screamed a tear-strewn, Ginny Weasley.
Harry braced himself for a further slap, but what came was far worse, for Ginny let out a loud sob and collapsed into Harry's chest. "I've loved you all my life. And now when we're finally together, you're breaking up with me because of, because of …Volde … Voldemort!"
Awkwardly, Harry patted her on the back, "I can't be with you, Ginny. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Being the girlfriend of 'The Boy Who Lived' would make you the number one target of every Death Eater in the country."
"What about what I want, Harry? I want to be with you! I don't care about the risks. Can't you see that I'll be much safer with you to protect me than I would be stuck at home?" Ginny's voice tottered on the edge of hysteria.
Harry stroked her hair and held her close for several minutes until her sobs lessened. Slowly, Ginny pulled away from his chest and asked the question Harry dreaded more than any other.
"Do you love me, Harry?"
He had known it would come to this and he knew it was for the best, even though his heart was breaking as he raised his face to meet her gaze. "No," he whispered turning away so his eyes wouldn't betray his true feelings.
Ginny burst into tears again as she turned and stormed towards the staircase. She paused for a second in the doorway, gathering her breath. "They've all got it wrong, Harry. This isn't living; you're not 'the boy who lived,' you're just the boy who existed."
As the door slammed behind her, Harry answered her question softly to an empty room. "No, Ginny, I can't let myself love you. Not while Voldemort is still alive." He hated himself for what he'd done. but knew it was for the best.
Unsteadily he got to his feet and packed his trunk before descending the stairs into the common room, where Ron and Hermione were having a blazing row. "She's too young! Ginny's my baby sister. You've got to realise it is better that they're apart." Ron bellowed into Hermione's flushed face.
"Too young? Ginny isn't a kid anymore – or have you forgotten how bravely she fought in the Department of Mysteries last year? How old were you when you fought that troll to save me?" Hermione retorted.
"Ginny will be safer at home with Mum. She'll get over Harry soon, it's not like they're in love."
"Not in love! Are you mad, Ron?" screeched Hermione," You wouldn't know what love was if it slapped you round the face," she continued, raising her hand in fury but then spotting Harry.
"Oh," she squeaked, lowering her hand sheepishly "We'd … err … better hurry or we'll … umm …miss the train."
Despite being the last to arrive at the station, the Hogwarts Express was strangely empty. Many parents had whisked their children away from school as soon as Dumbledore's death had been announced. So it was with some ease that the trio found an empty compartment.
Once inside, Hermione warded the door and cast Muffiilato before settling down. Seeing that Ron was about to comment on Hermione's choice of spell, Harry started to recap, in detail, all he knew about Voldemort and the Horcruxes. When he'd finished, Ron was the first to speak.
"I meant what I said at the funeral, Harry. I'll be with you every step of the way, starting with the Dursley's. Now that I'm of age, I can't wait to meet Dudley." Ron added with a little too much relish.
"I don't want you to come with me," stated Harry.
"Well, I am, Harry – Like it or not you're not pushing me away. Don't you remember what Dumbledore said about your friends?" replied an angry Ron.
"No, you've got it wrong," said Harry. "I need your help, but you can be doing more useful things than staying with me at the Dursleys. Besides, I'll only be sleeping there until my protection runs out on my birthday. I intend to spend every day at Grimmauld Place working on my duelling and learning Auror skills. I'm going to ask Professor Lupin and Moody to teach me."
"Cool," replied Ron, "So will we be joining you at … at Padfoot's old place, then?"
"Ron," said Harry slowly, "Is Bill taking his sick leave at the Burrow?"
"Mmmm, dunno. I guess Mum'd kill him if he didn't let her take care of him now. And with the wedding coming up, too…. Why?"
"Do you reckon you could persuade him to teach you about curse breaking? Voldemort's Horcruxes are likely to be protected by some very nasty and complex traps and some knowledge might help keep us alive. You could always tell Bill and your mother that you want to take it up as a career so they won't be nagging you about running off and chasing Voldemort with me."
Ron looked relieved at being able to delay explaining to his mother that he didn't intend to return to Hogwarts and that he was going to try and kill Voldemort instead.
"Hermione," continued Harry. "Go and spend sometime with your parents. Once we start out, who knows how long it may be before you see them again. While at home, see if you can find out where the orphanage that Voldemort grew up in was? I reckon he'll have left a Horcrux there. Also, any chance you can do some research into who R.A.B. might be? In the note he calls Voldemort the Dark Lord, so I'm guessing he was a Death Eater at one time. Perhaps you could try looking for suspicious deaths, as Voldemort may well have had him murdered if he wanted out, just like Sirius told me had happened to his brother."
"Ahead of you there, Harry," interrupted Hermione. "I've arranged a few visits to Hogwarts this summer with Professor McGonagall for that very purpose."
"You want to go back to school? In the Holidays?" commented Ron, incredulously.
Hermione blushed, before Harry came to her rescue by changing the subject. "We need to try and figure out what the missing Horcrux is as well." He conjured a piece of parchment and started writing:
Dumbledore said;
Riddle's Diary was the first (destroyed)
Marvolo's ring was the second, (destroyed)
"At which point I think he decided to find something from each of the four Hogwarts founders to use to increase his power by using highly important objects," Harry resumed writing:
Slytherin's locket (stolen by R.A.B)
Hufflepuff's cup (unknown)
Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's ???
"Dumbledore thought that the last Horcrux was reserved for my death, so in the end it didn't get created until after he returned. He suspected Voldemort used his pet snake as a Horcrux in desperation, as he appears unusually attached to it. Dumbledore also said the only known relic of Gryffindor is his sword, which has been on display in the Headmaster's office for many years. Also, if you remember, I was able to use the sword to slay the basilisk and hence the diary, so there is no chance it's a Horcrux. So I'm inclined to agree with Dumbledore that the unknown one is likely to be a relic of Ravenclaw."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a while, but gathered up the parchment and agreed to find out as much as she could. "I thought you wanted me to spend some time with my parents?" she chided him with a wry smile, as the train slowed into Kings Cross Station.
"We'll all meet up in six weeks at the wedding to see how it's going. After that I'm going to learn Occlumency. Voldemort and Snape can read my mind and block spells before I've cast them, so until I can shield my mind I can't hope to beat them. I've arranged for Professor Slughorn to teach me in the week after the wedding."
"Slughorn? Is he any good?"
"Yeah," replied Harry. "So good, that Dumbledore couldn't get that memory from him. Did you know that he was responsible for teaching it to Snape as well?"
"Bloody Hell!"
"Ronald, I will not have you swearing. You're a prefect, think of the example you are setting," chided Hermione.
It looked like Ron and Hermione were gearing up for yet another argument, so Harry once more cut them off. "Then, after that, we'll start out on the search, right after my …"
"Massive seventeenth birthday party at the Burrow," finished Ron with a grin as they climbed onto the platform.
"See you," waved Harry in a falsely cheerful voice. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked towards Vernon Dursley, who was flanked by a menacing looking Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin. Harry determinedly ignored the sight of a certain red-headed girl who was jumping into Mrs Weasley's arms further down the platform.
"Professors Moody, Lupin, can I have a quick word?" Harry asked, drawing them away from his Uncle while he asked them to train him. Remus agreed to get Mrs Figg's living room floo connected to Grimmauld Place for the Summer so that Harry could train each day.
"See you for work in the morning, Harry," called Remus as Harry gave his friends one last sad wave and followed his uncle towards the passenger lift which would lead them up to the ground level at King's Cross Station. Uncle Vernon scowled as Harry squeezed the trolley containing his Hogwarts trunk, Firebolt racing broom and Hedwig's owl cage into the already crowded lift. The last straw for Uncle Vernon was when an elderly lady started petting Hedwig, announcing how unusual it was to see a captive snowy owl. Hedwig had hooted softly back and nuzzled the lady, which in turn had caused everyone in the lift to coo over the unusual pet owl.
If there was one thing that Vernon Dursley despised most, it was abnormal things - things associated with Harry's wizarding life. So Harry knew he would pay dearly when he got home for drawing unwanted attention to himself. Things didn't improve for Uncle Vernon when they reached the badly parked car in a nearby side street, for adorning the windscreen was a small yellow sealed envelope, which contained a parking fine. Harry had to work hard to keep a straight face.
Uncle Vernon ranted and raved as they negotiated the South Circular Ring Road around London, making very slow progress towards the M3 and Surrey. Harry tuned out his uncle's racist rants about other motorists and pedestrians, as his mind dwelt on the sad events of the past year.
He still couldn't believe that Snape had killed Dumbledore in cold blood. How could Snape just murder the man who had saved him from Azkaban and shown faith in him, and to do it with Dumbledore pleading for his life? Never had Harryso fervently wished he could have a Time-Turner and go back and warn Dumbledore, but he knew this was impossible. Dumbledore wouldn't have listened, anyway. Hadn't Harry warned him enough over the years that Snape was evil? He remembered Dumbledore's words with a certain futility. 'It is enough that I trust Severus Snape.' How could the old headmaster be so adamant in his belief and yet so very, very wrong?
Harry was jerked out of his memories by a blinding white flash. Quick as lightning he brandished his wand and looked around for the source of the light. An obscene tirade from his uncle alerted Harry to the presence of a harmless speed camera. He gratefully stowed his wand safely back in his jeans, rueing how jumpy he had become in the past twelve months. As the impending speeding ticket quickly became Harry's fault in his uncle's eyes, he drifted back to his memories.
Presumably, being a skilled Occlumens who could fool Voldemor, meant that Snape could fool Dumbledore just as easily. Possibly Snape had always been double crossing him, thought Harry. Perhaps it was Voldemort's idea for Snape to approach Dumbledore in the first place?
Harry could imagine Voldemort leaving to murder his parents and ordering Snape to tip Dumbledore off, but to make sure it was too late for the headmaster to stop the attack.
Snape must have known that it was Pettigrew who had told Voldemort about his parents in the first place. So he must have known that Sirius was innocent in the Shrieking Shack at the end of Harry's third year. I should have realised back then that anyone prepared to allow an innocent man to face the Dementors had to be working for Voldemort.
The car came to a stop in an unfamiliar street, "Stay in the car, shut up, and don't move," commanded Uncle Vernon. "I'm picking up Petunia and Dudley, they've been to visit Marge," he explained at Harry's quizzical look. "Stay, boy. I'm not having you blowing her up again."
Then there was Harry's fourth year. If Snape was in the services of Voldemort, then he would have known all about Barty Crouch Junior and he allowed Cedric Diggory to be killed. In fact, Harry was almost certain now that Snape had spent the whole year actually helping Crouch to brew the Polyjuice Potion, or at the very least supplying the ingredients. Oh, how he must have laughed at Dumbledore and me, thought Harry angrily
Then there was the fifth year, when Harry had tried to get him to help in Umbridge's office. If he had been on the Order's side he would have given Harry a sign, a nod, anything. But no; the deaths of Harry's parents, Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore; they were all Snape's fault.
This gave Harry all the motivation he needed for his summer training. He knew he had to learn enough in the summer to take on Snape. So that next time they met, he would get revenge on the yellow-bellied coward for the deaths of his loved ones.
Harry felt himself being squashed and awoke frantically from his memories to find Dudley trying to squeeze into the rear seat of the car with him. Dudley had expanded to even greater proportions than the previous summer. The car listed violently as Dudley heaved a grotesque leg inside and Vernon struggled to shut the door, which was now scraping on the ground. Even with the passenger seat fully forward, Dudley could only just fit in the back, squashing Harry into a tiny corner behind his uncle. Harry was unable to dream any further, it was all he could do to breathe.
Finally they were home. After Harry had nursed his squished body back into shape, he climbed the staircase to his old bedroom. It was full of another year's worth of Dudley's broken toys, his mountain bike with a bent frame (obviously not built to carry a whale), and his punch bag (Dudley's stomach extended so far he could no longer reach the punch bag – and as he could no longer climb into a boxing ring he couldn't fight anymore.)
After clearing the rubbish away Harry collapsed on the bed and opened his trunk. There, lying on top of his robes was a photograph of himself standing in the entranceway to the Gryffindor common room. The Harry in the photo opened his arms and Ginny landed in them. The photo-Harry and photo-Ginny kissed each other passionately.
Harry lay there staring at the photo and drifted off into his first peaceful sleep for several weeks.
A/N
Thanks to Penny, Charlie, Georgie, Kayla, Sarah, Caroline and anyone I've missed out, for their help with this one