Regarding Harry

by Tsujton

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling et al. I make no profit (story of my life…).

Summary: Harry destroys the last Horcrux and defeats Voldemort – but in doing so, winds up back where he started the night he got his scar: with the mind of a fifteen month old – big baby!Harry. But the Death Eaters are out for revenge… Slightly slashy. Some abuse and violence, so rated: M

Chapter 2: Hagrid's Hut

"I'll get some water from the well. See if you can find Hagrid's firewhiskey," Hermione told Ginny. When she returned a few minutes later lugging a full bucket, she saw that Ginny had laid out a dusty, half-filled bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, two huge bowls (everything in Hagrid's home was huge) and a stack of tea towels and serviettes beside the bed. She was staring at Harry, blinking back tears and biting her lip again. Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "It'll be okay, Ginny," but both knew these were empty words.

Hermione told Ginny to dust off the firewhiskey bottle as she set to cleaning Harry's wounds. She had taken a Muggle first aid course when preparing to be a lifeguard over the summer, but had never expected to need these skills in the Wizarding world. As she carefully wiped the blood from Harry's face Hermione could see the source was as she'd thought, and her mind wandered again to Voldemort's demise.

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It was Kreacher who – unknowingly – helped in the end. Harry had summoned the demented house-elf left to him by his godfather on the pretext that he needed some books retrieved from number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Then he pretended to lose his temper with Kreacher (which was not a stretch by any means) and 'let slip' that he was going to visit Dumbledore's tomb and that he was 'bloody tired of secrets' and 'didn't care who the crazy elf told.'

"I'm sick of having to watch what I say around you. You can go and tell a Pureblood for all I care!" was the last thing Harry yelled before sending the now deliriously happy elf away. Of course they felt certain Kreacher would take this information to the Malfoy's, and based on the events that followed, he'd done just that.

What they hadn't counted on was that he would tell anyone else. But as it turned out, Ginny had been staying at Grimmauld Place with her parents – now that school was out – and she heard Kreacher talking wildly to himself as he collected the books Harry had asked for. "Filthy little Blood-traitor," he sneered while otherwise acting as though she wasn't there. "The Noble House of Malfoy will put it to rights. Disgusting Half-blood master wants his books. Wants to cry over his mental mentor's grave. Kreacher knows he will have his own grave soon, so soon…" And without hesitation, Ginny grabbed her broom and sped off to Hogwarts.

The final battle was almost anticlimactic. There he was, the self-proclaimed 'Lord' Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy was beside him, aiming hexes and curses at the Gryffindors, and Wormtail, sniveling and cowardly as always. Bellatrix Lestrange and the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback had come as well. Ron had succeeded in hitting Lestrange with "Expelliarmus" and "Stupefy" and was giving chase to Greyback who had sprinted to the cover of the wood. Hermione yelled to Ron not to let the werewolf lure him away, but Ron – single-minded in his desire to catch the creature that had nearly killed his brother, Bill – was soon out of sight.

Then something unexpected happened: Wormtail hexed Lucius Malfoy as Malfoy aimed a curse at Harry. The man that was once Peter Pettigrew reluctantly looked to his lord to see if this traitorous act had been witnessed.

The Dark Lord made a show of appearing bored. "Life debt fulfilled, my dear Wormtail?" Even Wormtail could sense the futility of begging.

"Pity. It didn't help." Voldemort flicked his wand vaguely towards his servant, who screamed shrilly as his body slowly shriveled in on its self, until only a silver hand, landing with a thud and rolling across the forest floor, remained.

And all the while, Voldemort was effortlessly deflecting Harry, Ginny and Hermione's curses. Ginny's own "Stupefy" was reflected back on her and she fell, senseless.

Voldemort was taunting Harry. Hermione could tell by his pompous, condescending tone that the Dark Lord was unaware that Harry had found the last Horcrux.

"What are you going to do, young Harry? Your pathetic curses cannot kill me, but I can kill you now – just as I disposed of your worthless parentssss," his hiss was such as to make the last word a vile insult.

But Harry didn't rise to the bait. He remained eerily calm and refused to engage in Voldemort's head games. He simply aimed his wand, pulled the basilisk's tooth from his robes, and incanted "Avada Kedavra" as he jabbed the tooth viciously into the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Voldemort's eyes widened in utter disbelief. "What? YOU canNo–" As the green light hit him, Voldemort fell back his face frozen in a gruesome mask of shock and rage. Then Harry fell to the ground, a ray of the same green light shooting out from his bloody scar. His wand glowed red hot and burst into flames sending shockwaves out in all directions. Hermione gasped in pain as her own wand began smoldering. That was the last she remembered.

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Time was of the essence, and Hermione knew she had to sterilize and wrap Harry's wound. She prayed that he would not feel it. They had no magic, no potions to help heal him or ease his pain (the few dust-covered vials in Hagrid's cupboard were unlabeled). She directed Ginny to hold Harry's head steady, and straddled his chest, not resting her weight on him, but pressing her thighs against his arms to hold him still. She took a deep breath and held it as she unstoppered the bottle of Ogden's and poured it liberally over the gaping wound that had once been Harry's infamous mark.

It was so much more horrible than Hermione had imagined. Harry's eyes flew open but were unseeing. He arched his back as his mouth opened wide in a strangled cry that was the worst sound Hermione had ever heard. At the last, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limp. Hermione could tell Ginny was looking at her, seeking eye contact, reassurance, something. But Hermione could not meet her gaze. She took a few steadying breaths and reached for a tea towel. It was rather threadbare and ripped easily into strips. She took a second towel, folded, and pressed it firmly on the still-bleeding wound. She used the torn strips to secure this tightly to Harry's head.

"If it doesn't stop bleeding soon," she took another deep but shaky breath, "we'll have to cauterize it."

Ginny didn't like the sound of that word. It reminded her of when her father had let a Trainee healer at St. Mungo's actually stitch his snakebite – an insane Muggle healing technique very like sewing. Naturally, it hadn't worked and her mother had been livid that her father had risked his life because of his faith in muggles. Ginny made to ask Hermione what "kotterize" was, but Hermione cut her off at "What –" with a raised hand and an almost imperceptible headshake.

"Now his hand," said Hermione, pressing her lips together. She filled a bowl with water and placed the other bowl under Harry's hand. Slowly, Hermione poured cool water over his blistered skin. His burns were in the same pattern as her own were (the pain of which she had been ignoring as best she could) leading her to believe that all the wands within reach of Harry's magic had been destroyed. As she wrapped his hand loosely with wetted tea towel strips Harry stirred, but mercifully he did not wake during these final ministrations. "Now your hand, Ginny," said Hermione.

"My –? What?" Ginny held out her wand hand and saw that the pads of her fingers and her thumb were badly burned. She looked up at Hermione in surprise.

"Mine too," said Hermione, holding her own hand out to show Ginny the identical marks.

"What happened? I, I don't remember…" Now that she'd seen it, her hand was starting to smart. How could she not have noticed it?

"It was Harry. When he destroyed Voldemort, his wand burst into flames. I think it sent a spell outwards, because the last thing I remember was my wand burning up. I suppose yours burned too." She wondered just how far Harry's spell had gone. She hoped that Malfoy, Bellatrix and Fenrir had similarly been rendered incapable of magic. They might have a chance, then. And Ron might… Hermione shook her head once again; she would not think on that now.

After the two friends helped wash and wrap each other's hands, Hermione stood. "Why don't you get some rest, Ginny? I'll take the first watch and see what Hagrid's left us to eat around here."

Ginny was too tired to argue. Her head was swimming with unwanted thoughts and she was fighting to keep them at bay. Ron would join them. Harry would be okay. It had to be so, and that was that. She lay down carefully beside Harry's still form, trying her best not to move the mattress too much and disturb him. After gazing at him for a few minutes, her eyes welled up with unbidden tears and Ginny had to turn away to regain control of her emotions. Soon her shock and exhaustion got the better of her and Ginny drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, after a thorough search, Hermione had come up with precious little bounty: some moldy apples, a plate of rock cakes (which were living up to their name in full measure) and an old bowl of sugar cubes. She next went outside to refill the water bucket and check Hagrid's garden for useful herbs and hopefully something edible, her eyes desperately scanning the forest as she went.

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A/N: No beta yet. This is my first upload of a fic, so I've got a long 'get the hang of it' journey ahead of me. Bear with? I probably will in future be posting once a week.