NB: A thousand apologies for the lateness of this; there were 3 drafts that I did, and this is the final one … seeing as it's the penultimate chapter (and the hardest one EVER to write yet,) I wanted to get it right. Enjoy.
MARKED
"You'll still never win this," Harry said quietly.
He knew what to do.
THIRTY-SEVEN: Harry's Truth
As Harry rapped himself smartly over the head with his own wand, preparing for Disillusionment, many thoughts ran through his head.
This is stupid.
No, it's not. You can't back out now.
You're going to die.
But everyone is counting on you. Ginny is counting on you.
You haven't even killed the snake yet. You can't kill him until you do.
She's going to be here anyway … I can feel it …
And this was perfectly true; once again, as he had felt it before, Harry felt an unexplainable knowledge that Voldemort's final Horcrux was somehow nearby. It made sense really; she was likely to be near to her master, especially if she was precious … Voldemort would want to make sure personally that she was safe.
Harry reached up to grasp the rough edges of the hole to pull himself up, very aware that he had about six minutes before some reinforcements would come through this very hole. Perhaps he could avoid a few more casualties by taking care of the Death Eaters he could see …
The night air was cold, but it was good to see the stars above his head instead of an impenetrable and opaque earth ceiling. Shakily, he rolled out of the hole as quietly as he could, moving slightly around the back of the immense trunk of the Whomping Willow. Directly to his right he could see a figure in a black cloak, hood pulled low over their eyes. A Death Eater. He could not tell who it was at this distance, but then again there would have been so many new recruits in order to build Voldemort's army of sixteen hundred Death Eaters that Harry would probably only recognise a mere handful… he tried hard not to imagine how many of them were actually here, but it was needless to say that the castle would be crawling …
The first giant, now only metres away, was standing with its feet squarely apart, having to squat to hold up its own vast weight. It had feet the size of sledges and every toenail was about the size of Harry's own hand. The immense head was turning slowly from side to side, as though its brain could not make it move any faster.
Great for squashing, thought Harry. But not for guard duty.
The Death Eater to his right was staring around him, on watch. He had his back to the castle wall, and the other nearest Death Eater was a little around the corner. Harry raised his wand and focused his mind, angling his wand so he was pointing slightly to the left of the figure; it would strike him so he fell backwards.
Petrificus Totalus! Harry thought, performing the spell non-verbally so as not to draw any attention.
The Death Eater, not expecting an attack from a hidden and disillusioned wizard behind a tree, fell backwards into the wall silently, unseen by anyone except Harry. The giant had not even completed its180 degree head turn to the right.
As quick as a flash, whilst the second giant was momentarily gazing in the opposite direction, Harry darted across the dry grass, staying very low to the ground, and took up the place where the Death Eater had stood guard. The cloak and hood had fallen off as the Death Eater had toppled backwards, and as he eyed it, Harry was struck by a sudden idea.
Slowly, he reached down and picked up the hooded cloak, then drew it around himself, pulling the hood low over his eyes. It felt disgusting; only moments before it had been worn by a piece of treacherous filth … but it was the only way he could take some of them out without being about as conspicuous as Hagrid in a china shop.
As he stood there, breathing heavily, he forced his brain to think harder than it had ever thought. Where would the youngest students be? That was the main priority at the moment … if there was to be a full scale battle here and now, and it was fairly inevitable that this was indeed the day, then he could not let 11 year olds bear witness. The only saving grace was that there would not be as many students there to save … many parents had not sent their children back to Hogwarts in the light of Dumbledore's death.
Harry looked up, straining his eyes … he had about four minutes. Voldemort would want to keep the students in his eye-line, or in the eye-line of the Death Eaters, to make sure there were no trouble makers … where would they be?
"Potter."
Harry jumped as though he had been shot with a gun. He spun around, his wand gripped tightly in his fist as he raised to strike … to kill … but it was the most unexpected person he saw standing in front of him.
Draco Malfoy.
"I thought it was you. That charm's wearing off."
"Malfoy!" Harry hissed, swivelling his head to make sure that the other Death Eater, metres away, had not heard. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You sent me to be baby-sat, remember?" Malfoy spat maliciously, his grey eyes narrowed. "I've been here ever since, helping out like some common Muggle assistant!"
"Never mind that now," spat Harry angrily, his mind on far more important things than Malfoy's plight. "How did you get out?"
"I wasn't supposed to be out," said Malfoy levelly. "McGonagall told me to be in by 8pm most nights, but I don't take any orders from her anymore. I was sitting near the forest when I saw them coming. I waited and watched as they went in, ran around the back so they wouldn't see me."
"They will have seen you, you idiot, Voldemort sees everything!"
The giant nearest to them stirred slightly. Harry grabbed Malfoy roughly by the scruff of his baggy robes and pulled him deeper into the shadows of the castle wall.
Malfoy scowled and shook off Harry's grip. "I didn't pull my pants over my head and run around screaming 'I'm a deserter, come and kill me please!' How stupid do you think I am?"
"Very."
They glared at each other, Harry still not convinced of his former pale enemy's loyalty, and yet his face was wan and sweaty, much like it had been the night he had tried, and failed, to kill Dumbledore.
"Look, do you know where the youngest students are? The first and second years?" Harry asked a little desperately. Three minutes.
Malfoy cocked his head. "What's in it for me?"
"Your life," Harry responded flatly. "The sooner I get them out, the sooner I can concentrate on killing him, which means he won't be able to kill you. You always were one for self preservation. You figure it out."
Malfoy chewed his lip. "I heard Goyle, you know, the big one, say they were on the second floor; in that big Charms classroom. That's where they put the small ones, but there's not many of them from what I've seen here. They're … they were going to start killing them before you got here. They know you're coming, Potter."
"I know," Harry said bluntly.
"He'll probably kill your little blood traitor girlfriend, just to get you angry," Malfoy said with an attempt at his old swagger, at sarcasm, but it fell flatly.
Harry stared at him. "After all this … all this, you still think that it's blood that's important?"
Malfoy blushed slightly in the dimness of the shadow, and said nothing.
Harry looked away from Malfoy, up at the window he needed to get to, not really hearing him anymore. Nothing else mattered, especially not Malfoy's attempts at getting back some of his old sense of self – he had a job to do.
"Look … I was going to use this to get away," Malfoy muttered, pulling something slowly out from behind his back. It was a broomstick. "I saw them coming and I knew something was going on … I've had it close ever since I … well. If … if you think you could use it –"
Harry could not believe his ears. Was Malfoy helping him? It almost seemed too good to be true …
"What's this? A cursed broom?" he said suspiciously. Two minutes.
"Fine," Malfoy snapped briskly. "If you don't want it …"
But Harry took it from him quickly, checking his watch.
"There's a window around the back near to the lake where you should be able to get in. But like I said. They know you're coming. They probably know you're already here."
Harry looked down. He wasn't going to say thank you; there was too much bitterness there, and besides, Malfoy could be playing him. But it seemed like he had little choice.
"Even if they do know, it doesn't matter. This ends tonight."
Malfoy looked at him curiously.
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked levelly.
Malfoy snorted. "I have no qualms about heroism, Potter. I'm going to run like hell, and you'll never see me again."
Harry mounted the broom, shaking his head. "You won't get very far."
Malfoy shrugged and turned away, scurrying off into the night.
"Break a leg, Potter," he muttered as the darkness swallowed him.
Coward, Harry thought, and kicked off from the ground.
The cold air whipped his hair as he pulled his broom up short and looked down below him. Underneath, with no idea of who was above, another Death Eater stood a little further away, his wand raised like a torch; the beam of light fell across the grounds. Harry shot another well aimed Stunning spell at the Death Eater's head, veering away the second he had fired it. He knew his foe had been hit; but for the fact that his torch-light-wand was no longer moving, there was no evidence for it. The other Death Eater standing metres away would not know for at least a few minutes …
Harry flew, as if in a distorted dream, towards the chink of light that he knew hailed the second floor window Malfoy was referring to. He did not look up at the Dark Mark, hovering grotesque and khaki-green above his head, symbolising victory.
You haven't won yet, Voldemort, Harry thought savagely.
And then Harry saw them; the first wave exploding out of the Whomping Willow and careering towards the Death Eaters on watch, wands aloft. The shout from the front runners pierced the night sky like a firecracker exploding. There were a few goblins at the front that appeared to be holding green fire in their hands; without so much as a battle cry, they had flung whatever they had been holding into two Death Eaters by the main doors, who were immediately set alight, screaming as the flames overran them.
Harry did not have time to marvel at the goblin's extensive use of magic, nor to take a moment and appreciate how much of a truly glorious scene it was to see beast and wizard fighting together to battle evil. Death Eaters were appearing everywhere, in places that Harry had not seen, and were advancing towards the first wave. The giants were just about realising what was going on and had started to lurch drunkenly towards the fray, swinging their tree trunk arms dangerously.
Harry hoped against hope that Hermione had, as she had said she might, lifted the Apparition restrictions for a time as he reached the window. Either way, the battle had begun.
- - - - - -
The window was partly open. Harry grasped the ledge and inched his way inside, as quietly as possible, propping the broom up against the wall. Luckily, the window was at the very back of the classroom and so he wasn't landing on anyone as he came in. Harry crouched in the dim candlelight and surveyed the situation.
There, as Malfoy had said, sat at least fifteen of Hogwarts' youngest, hugging their knees to their chests and looking positively terrified. There was one Death Eater by the farthest door, wand aloft, his eyes fixed on the children and his back to Harry. Despite this, Harry recognised him immediately; it was Mulciber, one of the Death Eaters he had fought at the Ministry with Neville, Luna and the others.
Harry did not move from his spot behind the table; if any of the first years saw him it would cause a stir, their panic overcoming their sense to keep quiet. Mulciber seemed distracted; it looked as though news of the first wave was filtering through the castle, room to room. It would not be long before the second wave entered through the one-eyed-witch's hump on the third floor … but would it be enough?
Harry waited for the perfect moment … Mulciber was peeking out the oaken door, clearly waiting for instructions as to what to do. Then, quite clearly, Harry heard a harsh and low bark of a voice shout from the corridor.
"You stay here and watch these!" it said. Harry did not recognise the tone. "The rest, go!"
And with that Mulciber turned around instinctively, and Harry struck. The freezing spell seemed to be the most effective; not only was it silent but it left no mess except a frozen Death Eater with frosted, surprised eyes.
Some of the children exclaimed in surprise, not knowing yet where the spell had come from. Harry hastily pointed his wand at the door and muttered "Muffliato!" to mute any sounds the Death Eaters rushing along the corridors may have heard.
The children in the room turned as Harry stood up slowly.
Some gasped with wide eyes, others began to cry.
"Is that …"
"It can't be!"
"Harry Potter!" came a ripple of murmurs. One child, possibly the smallest, broke free of the huddle of children and ran to Harry, throwing her arms around his middle: the highest part she could reach. Harry gently disengaged her, holding her at arm's length.
"It's OK …"
"Have you come to rescue us?" asked a small boy, still hugging his knees. "They said they were going to kill us!"
"Where are the other first and second years?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. It would not help if the youngest children saw their supposed savoir panicking.
There was no answer at first; they seemed to be too afraid to speak. Then slowly, a bigger girl at the back of the room raised her hand, as though she were in class.
"Yes?" Harry prompted eagerly.
"This is all of us … some of the bigger ones are in the next room," she said slowly, her face white. "But there are guards in the corridor …"
"OK … OK, I want everyone in here to join hands, really tightly. Can you do that?"
They stared at him.
"It's OK … you'll be safe if you all hold hands, I promise. Just … just imagine you're playing a game and you have to hold onto your friend's hand as tightly as you can."
They did so, slowly at first, but then much quicker as the prospect of safety began to sink in. Harry watched them, moving quickly between them to make sure they were all gripping tightly enough and leant his head at the door to make sure that no one was waiting to burst in on them …
"Hermione," he muttered under his breath. "Please …"
The children were all looking at him expectantly. Harry took the little hand of the nearest child and gripped it tight.
"OK … everyone ready? This will feel a little weird …"
And he spun as sharply as he could, visualising with every fibre of his being his destination; Order HQ. Hoping against all hope that they would not let go of each other, Harry embraced the tight-rubber-tube feeling of Apparition, and arrived much faster than he had expected in Kingsley's kitchen, where a harassed looking Mrs Weasley was waiting for him.
"Harry! Thank God! What's …?"
There was crack after crack after crack, and eventually every child that had been holding another's hand had materialised in Kingsley's kitchen. After realising that they were somehow now in a different place, many of them immediately began to cry, putting their hands over their ears; Harry understood; it had felt very strange when he had first Apparated, almost as though he .
"Mrs Weasley … these are the first and second years … I got them out as fast as I –"
"– But how, Harry?" Ron's mother interrupted.
"Hermione did a spell … but I think it'll wear off soon, so I'd better get back."
Mrs Weasley looked around distractedly as though she was not sure where to start.
"The Minister sent a message … all reinforcements are ready and waiting in Hogsmead to go in after the second wave … he said they're being sorted by Ron and Hermione …"
"Yes, that's good," Harry replied hastily.
And then, without warning, Mrs Weasley pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, holding him tightly to her.
"Oh, Harry ... I am so proud of you … your parents; they …" But she did not finish for her tears. Harry hugged her back and whispered in her ear –
"I'll bring her back, Mrs Weasley. I promise."
He stood back, smiled one more time, and Disapparated, leaving behind him frightened, confused and awestruck faces.
- - - - - -
Harry's mind had been so fixed upon Mrs Weasley's tear stained face and her mother-like affection for him that he had no idea where in Hogwarts he was Apparating to. He realised this moments before he materialised – directly in front of a giant.
As Harry himself moved his head upwards to take a look at the ugly brute, the giant itself lowered its huge head and peered at him. Slowly but surely a look of rage came over its bulbous features and it let out an ear-splitting roar, which made all the hairs on Harry's body stand on end.
Harry backed hastily away and gripped his wand, but he had no idea what spell to use on giants; his only experience with something similar was with the troll in his first year with Ron and Hermione, and all that had taught him was to hit it over the head with something hard; a fairly unhelpful piece of information seeing as how he had nothing of the sort with him right now.
The giant swung one of its arms violently with surprising speed and agility. Harry hurled himself to the left as far as he could and only just missed its flailing limb. Behind him he could hear movement; a Death Eater was watching him; he did not recognise who it was, but the face was twisted into a cruel smile, as though he enjoyed watching the sport. But then, almost as suddenly as the giant in front of Harry had swung its arms, something hit the Death Eater from behind with a loud clunk.
Harry scrambled to his feet and spun around, only to see someone he knew standing over the crumpled Death Eater, a club in his hand.
"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, and was then forced to roll out of the way again as the giant took its opportunity to launch a fresh attack. The giant roared in frustration as he missed again, but Harry had already raced to Hagrid's side.
"Hagrid … what happened to you?"
Hagrid bore marks of having been in a real battle; there were deep gouges in his arms and across his chest; a lividly purple bruise was forming under his left eye.
"Been held down with ropes," Hagrid said gruffly, "only jus' got away. No time, Harry, you get back in the castle … there's kids that need yeh!"
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing the way the larger giant near them was gazing at Hagrid, its arms raised above its head.
"I'm gonna do what I woulda' done all along if I 'adn't bin held down!"
And with that, he raised his hands to his mouth, cupping them, as though preparing for a battle cry. It was something of the sort; a low, grumbling scream that reverberated through the very ground and felt as though it travelled up through Harry's legs and into his spine.
"Go, Harry!" urged Hagrid, his eyes on the Forbidden Forest, which was not far away.
Harry backed away, his eyes still on Hagrid and the Forest and the huge giant advancing on the smaller one with such fierce intent. But as Harry watched, he saw, quite clearly even in the darkness of the night, something emerging slowly from the shady trees. The angry giant could sense something; in any case, it ceased its advancement on Hagrid and turned only to see creatures of its own race moving towards it with obvious menace.
Hagrid let out the cry again and the giants coming out of the Forest descended upon the one attacking Hagrid. This caused many of Voldemort's giants to move forwards, lolloping towards the fray, and before Harry even knew what was happening, there was a full blown ruckus ensuing between giant and giant; enormous fists were thrown; ear piercing roars were bellowed; gigantic bodies fell with crashes that shook the ground under Harry's feet … even some of the fighters in the grounds turned around to see what was happening …
… and a Death Eater hit Harry with a curse from the right.
"Turbo!" came the cry from his opponent.
Harry's eyes had been so fixed upon the fight between the giants that he had not seen the cloaked figure creep up on him. It was a disorientating curse that Snape had forewarned him of; if he had not known the counter-curse, he may have been hit again and again, but luckily Snape had prepared him. Harry felt his brain going fuzzy, but before the curse could take its full effect, he gathered his wits as quickly as possible.
"Laxo!" Harry cried, not needing to do the spell non-verbally; the caster of the curse would not have known he knew how to parry it.
With the curse lifted, Harry raised his own wand and pointed it at what he now saw as a female Death Eater. Harry did not know why he was surprised; why should all the Death Eaters be men? What was unsettling him most of all was that Harry recognised this woman; even from beneath her hood he knew that he had seen her face in Azkaban that time they had gone … this could only mean one thing … that there had been a well-timed breakout.
Harry let the magic of the spell he wanted to cast flow through his veins. Then, he raised is wand and thought of the word clearly in his head.
Somnus!
This was another spell Snape had taught him; it did not kill, but if one took a direct hit with this spell they were forced into a deep sleep and could only be woken with a particular potion. Harry had been warned that the Death Eaters often used it too, when they wished to take their enemies alive …
The jet of purple light from Harry's wand hit the woman in the face. She yelled in surprise, raised her arms like a child to its mother, and then collapsed heavily onto her side, eyes closed, as though she were dead.
Get back to the castle … there's kids that need yeh …
Harry spun around and sprinted towards the now wide open oak front doors, light spilling out onto the rippling grass beneath. He passed a group of blue-robed Aurors, wands flashing with sparks like swords crashing against each other, locked in combat with two Death Eaters, who appeared to be losing. Harry did not stop but continued to run, past three giants head-butting giants, none of whom he could distinguish what side they were on, past a goblin that was running, screaming in pain as the spell it had been carrying had exploded in its face …
Harry leapt up the steps three at a time as a jet of orange light soared over his head, and through the front doors. The entrance hall appeared to be jam-packed; on one side there were what could only be students; third or fourth years by the looks of it, huddled around each other, surveying a ferocious attack directly in front of them. A student, possibly one dragged from the huddle, was being shamelessly mauled on the flagstoned floor by …
A werewolf.
Instinctively, Harry's eyes shot to the skies outside … but there was no full moon. Fenrir Greyback must have persuaded some werewolves to attack, regardless of their transformations.
Harry watched, momentarily held still by his own horror, and then the adrenaline kicked in.
"Stupefy!" he cried, pointing his wand at the werewolf's back, and the red jet hit the beast in the back. It spun around, dropping the boy, and gazed at Harry.
"Potter, eh?" the whiskered man mumbled. It was not Greyback, but this man was clearly of the same type. His matted face and black hair with blood stuck to it gave him the look of a wild animal.
The man stood up and barred his teeth.
"Not s'posed to eat you … not till after …"
"Why not?" Harry spat, his wand raised, ready to fight to the death.
The werewolf grinned menacingly, showing pointed and bloodstained teeth.
"What the heck, eh? I'm hungry"
And it charged at Harry on all fours, like an actual wolf, a mad deranged animal. Harry did not think twice. He raised his wand and struck before the wolf was five feet away …
"Avada Kedavra!"
It fell down dead, struck dumb. One of the students behind Harry started sobbing loudly, and Harry could see why. The student that had been attacked was dead; very dead.
Harry moved cautiously forwards, unable to avoid stepping in blood, and recognised the face of one of the fifth years; he hadn't known his name, but that didn't matter … they were starting to fall, and it became clear that Voldemort was taking no prisoners.
Harry wanted to comfort the students, but he was stopped short by a sight up at the top of the great staircase. Looking down at him over the lowest banisters were at least fifteen Death Eaters, all of them with their wands raised, cruelly satisfied expressions on their faces. Then, with a cry of bravery, the second wave descended upon them from behind; they must have come through the secret passageway in the one-eyed-witch. Aurors in blue, red, yellow and purple were fighting like tigers with an array of spells, some of which Harry was sure he had not mentioned to them. The colours of their robes told him that they were the Americans, the Canadian, the French, and a couple of the Spanish.
The attacked Death Eaters wore expressions of surprise due to the international invasion; this had clearly not been expected and therefore there was a pause before any of them raised their wands. This gave the Aurors an advantage; two Death Eaters were blasted off the stairs and fell with sickening crashes at Harry's feet, which urged the others into action. A full scale skirmish took place on the stairs as Harry turned to the third and fourth years.
"Look …" he muttered hurriedly, turning to a small doorway to their left. "This is a big broom cupboard. I want you all to get in it and shut the door, you understand me? Seal it."
They stared at him.
"I can't Apparate you out anymore … you won't get away if you run. Trust me, seal the door, and don't open it. No matter what you hear."
They all rushed as one into the open door and were just about to shut it when one of the girls grabbed Harry's arm through the small crack in the doorway –
"Harry … are you really the Chosen One?"
She looked so frightened, and so hopeful.
"Yes. And I'm going to finish this. We'll get through it, you'll see. Now shut the door and stay in there."
There was a snap and a lasting image of grey faces before Harry was left alone. But not for long.
He turned towards the sound of a scuffle and saw a girl with dirty blonde hair and protuberant eyes fighting a Death Eater. There was a jet of light flying towards her and she ducked. Harry made move forwards to help, but there was no need. Luna fired a Paralysing spell that Harry had taught her during the DA meetings … that seemed so long ago, almost as though it was from another life. The Death Eater went rigid immediately and fell backwards into one of the fraying tapestries.
"Oh, hello Harry! This is quite an adventure, isn't it?" exclaimed Luna, as though they were meeting on the platform at Kings Cross, laughing and joking and ready to go back to school.
"Luna! Are you –?"
But he stopped short as there was screaming coming from the Great Hall. Turning towards the sound and away from Luna, Harry made to wrench open the doors, but it suddenly occurred to him that there could be fifty Death Eaters holding students hostage, quite ready to kill them all. What could he do by charging in? But he needn't have worried; through the front oak doors rushed a multitude of Aurors in blue; the Ministry's own.
"Potter!" said one of them, bleeding copiously from a gash to his shoulder. "Where do you need us?"
"You need a Healer," Harry said swiftly, "there should be some in Hogsmead, but I'm not sure how long it will be before Voldemort spills out into the town …"
"That won't happen for a while," said the Auror. "When you contacted the Ministry, the Militia were automatically alerted and they're guarding the perimeter … but permit me to say … sir … I don't want a Healer, I want to help."
Harry eyed up the gash. It was deep, true, but he knew how he would feel in the same situation and so wasted no time in trying to persuade him.
"OK … there are students in the Hall … we could storm it …"
"Sure … you want to go in all together?"
Harry considered. "No, split up, half and half, we'll go in the front doors, the others go around the back to the big windows and come in through them … use the spell Fracta, it'll cause the glass to shatter loads and you might distract them."
"Good … right, you heard him. Half around the back."
They followed Harry's orders swiftly and efficiently, and went back out the front doors. Harry and the others prepared themselves by the doors to the great hall.
They waited for about a minute; it was very hard to ignore the shouts from above, and from outside, but he could not help everyone at the same time …
Suddenly, almost as though he had not been expecting it, Harry heard the Aurors come in through the windows. He turned to the others.
"Now!"
They burst in to see the backs of the Death Eaters, their eyes on the intruders through the windows. Harry had half-expected Voldemort to be in there, but he was nowhere to be seen. Immediately the Death Eaters' attention was divided, which gave Harry and the Ministry Aurors time to strike.
Multitudes of colour flashed through the air as the Aurors made their spells, hitting some Death Eaters in the back, crumpling to their knees. Children were screaming, and some had taken to hiding under the huge tables that ran the length of the hall …
"Somnus!" Harry bellowed, his wand vibrating so much with power that it shook in his clenched fist. He hit one – two, and suddenly another jet of light ricocheted off the one already coming from his wand, so that he was hitting two at a time …
But the Death Eaters were fighting back. Green beams of light were now mingling with the coloured, and they were met with retaliation, and Harry soon realised that the battle was in full swing. He was continuously ducking as powerful forces swooped over his head, and found himself locked in combat with a particularly thin Death Eater, who was soon joined by another … and another – they were going to gang up on him.
Despite the danger however, Harry could not help noticing that the Death Eaters, how ever ferociously they were fighting and brutally aiming to kill the Aurors, were not firing any form of killing spell at him. He assumed, briefly, that this may have been on Voldemort's orders, but he couldn't worry about that at the moment.
The thin Death Eater fired a Stinging Hex at his torso, but Harry parried it without uttering a single word, and at the same time he fired the Killing Curse at another adversary about to Stun him without even thinking about it. The third one glanced at Harry with hatred in his eyes, and then seemed to change his mind; the Death Eater pointed his wand upwards, towards the stormy ceiling, and fired a devastating spell.
The jet of light hit one of the wooden beams below the bewitched ceiling, and with a crumbling crash as all eyes turned upwards, the beams began to fall. Harry looked around wildly; they were about to fall on some of the students huddled by the Ravenclaw bench …
"Move!" Harry yelled at them, but they were paralysed by fear.
Harry ran at them, grabbing a small wrist and wrenching sideways … the beam crashed to the floor and narrowly missed the other three children but hit two of them. As he cried out in horror, Harry almost didn't notice one of the falling beams catch him a glancing blow to his shoulder, driving him to his knees. With the child's hand still in his, there was a moment where Harry lost track of time, and then he coughed the dust out of his throat. The student next to him was thankfully alright, but there was no need to wonder at the fate of the other two, buried beneath the beam.
Some of the Death Eaters had been inadvertently hit by the falling structures; some were staggering upright, others lay still. Harry showed them no quarter; he shot a fatal curse at the one who had cast the spell with a snarl, cutting off his life force with uncharacteristic venom; another Death Eater tried to rise, but Harry struck her down too. He was aided by some of the Aurors who had also survived the beams, and before long, all of the Death Eaters who had taken the students in the hall hostage, were dead.
Harry stood up, trembling from head to foot. Students were dead; some were still dying, as were the Aurors around him. Where were Ron and Hermione … had they shared the same fate? And where was Ginny? If this had been a trap, as he had known it was, then where was the bait?
There was a moaning to his left; an Auror had been hit by a beam and was stirring feebly. Harry crouched and raised his wand, attempting to lift the rubble with a spell, but the Auror shook his head weakly. It was the one who had had the gash in his shoulder.
"No, Mr Potter … go and fight …"
"No!" Harry muttered, his wand still aloft. "I can help you, if you'll just hold on a second …"
"Leave me," said the Auror. "You've got important things to do …"
"No more than saving people's lives when I can," Harry said fiercely, and he uttered the spell to shift the beams. The Auror groaned.
"Ahhh … thank you. Now … g-go, go and kill him."
Harry nodded and left the walking wounded to tend to the others, his shoulder throbbing. The Auror was right; the sooner Harry finished off Voldemort the quicker the Death Eaters might admit defeat …
He burst back out into the main foyer to see that the scene had changed. Two of the giant hour-glasses had been hit by a forceful curse and the rubies and emeralds within were still falling with an audible rattle onto the flagstones below, a mix of muddy sparkling colour …
And yet in the midst of it was a full scale war; Harry found it hard where to look or to decide who to help. Multitudes of coloured robed Aurors were battling fiercely with the darkly clad Death Eaters who, at that moment, appeared to have the upper hand; there were more Aurors on the floor screaming than there were Death Eaters. Harry cast his eyes hazily out the oak front doors and into the grounds … the battle was raging there too, giants hurling each other twenty feet into the air, uplifting trees and crashing into the walls of Hogwarts, wizards scattering, students screaming.
Before he could draw breath something hit him from behind, hit him so hard that he went flying through the air so forcefully that some of those battling each other actually turned to look … he was heading for the grounds again, landing with an immense crunch on the wet grass directly in front of … Lupin.
"Harry! God, are you hurt?"
Harry had to hold his breath momentarily as all the wind had been beaten out of him. When he exhaled it came out in a shaky moan.
"On your feet … you're OK …" Lupin said, taking his arms and ducking quickly as a jet of light soared over their heads. "Have you seen Voldemort?"
Harry shook his head and scrambled to his feet. "What hit me?""
"Rookwood … Winding Spell … he's coming this way, Harry, watch yourself …"
But neither of them had seen the giant behind them. It swung an arm at Lupin who felt the air change a fraction moments before the great limb crashed down. Lupin shifted to the right slightly upon realisation, but it did not stop the blow from catching him.
"Remus!"
Lupin flew ten feet in the air and landed with in a heap by the edge of the forest. Harry drew his wand and scrambled over to him, but Rookwood had caught up with them –
"Somnus!" he yelled at Harry, using the very same spell that Harry himself had used only moments before; the jet of light soared over Harry's head and missed his left ear by centimetres.
Effrego! Harry thought in his mind and let the magic come, hoping to shoot a bone breaking hex at Rookwood, but the spell flew some metres wide due to the fact that the giant that had hit Lupin was coming towards Harry with some purpose … but even as he turned his head slightly to the left, Harry could see a Dementor out of the corner of his eye; the first he had seen. Voldemort must have sent for them once he became aware of the Order's numbers …
Harry barely ducked the giant's huge swinging fist, but he could not avoid Rookwood's spell. He heard dimly above the noise of the fray –
"Turbo!"
Even though his brain was slowing down, Harry made a mental note of the fact that none of the Death Eaters were trying to kill him … perhaps they would leave that for Voldemort.
Rookwood advanced, his wand raised and his eyes narrowed cruelly; the giant swung around for another attack; the Dementor was drawing closer; Harry could feel its putrid breath on the back of his neck …
But just as he was about to be hit again with another spell, an arrow flew over his head with such a force that it made his hair stand on end. The arrow hit Rookwood directly in the heart and he fell backwards with a frozen stare, dead. As Harry rolled onto his stomach, another volley of arrows came directly over him and hit the giant in numerous places; the neck, the torso, the arms … it stumbled about, crushing many things in its wake.
Harry stared towards where the arrows had come from and saw, with some shock, that the centaurs were standing in a line as though preparing for battle, bows raised and faces fierce. They had decided to join forces with the Order!
With the wonderfully positive notion that their numbers were evening out and that they may actually have a chance, Harry turned to the Dementor and thought of nothing else but success.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The silver stag – his father – shot out of his wand and charged the black beast down in an instant, but it did not disappear. Instead, Harry stood and watched as Prongs charged on, like a real animal with physical form, at a Dementor prowling not far away, and vaporised that one too. Still the silver beacon did not dim, but galloped on, searching out all the Dementors lurking in dark corners preparing to pounce on the unexpected. Harry's heart filled with emotion … his father was with him.
Harry turned anxiously back towards Lupin, who had someone kneeling down beside him; Cassie.
"Is he alright?" Harry asked her anxiously, clutching his shoulder as it gave a particularly vicious throb.
Cassie's eyes were wide and fearful. She shook her head. "There's too much damage to deal with here … it's too dangerous!"
"Can you get him to Hogsmead?"
Cassie looked as though she were on the verge of saying no, but then her gaze turned back to Lupin and her expression hardened.
"Yes."
Harry gave her a brief smile, totally confident that Lupin was nothing but safe with her, and charged back into the school.
He raced past duelling wizards moving so fast it was hard to tell which was which, past two goblins throwing fire at a giant, past three students who appeared to have decided to fight rather than run, but they were losing against a Dementor … there was a Thestral attacking a Death Eater, biting, kicking and screeching at the top of its voice …
He leapt the stairs three at a time, ducking sharply as a suit of armour came crashing down past him. There were students running past him, anxious to get out of the front doors. Some looked at him fearfully, some didn't even notice him but rushed past; Harry vaulted over the banisters at the top, Stupefying a Death Eater about to attack one of the German Aurors, but even as he did so he saw a man with dark matted hair and greedy eyes with blood dripping from his teeth … the werewolf Fenrir Greyback. And he was making towards a girl, a girl with bushy brown hair …
"Hermione!"
As Harry called her name, Greyback turned around and faced him with a fierce face.
"Ello, Potter …" he hissed through cracking, blooded lips.
"Get away from her," Harry said in a low voice, sounding much surer than he felt; his shoulder was aching like a dull anvil had been driven into his arm and he was still breathless, but if this was what was standing between him and Voldemort, so be it.
"Ooh, but she looks so fresh, don't you think?" Greyback hissed. "Maybe just a little taste … I could do you for afters, Potter …"
"You won't," Harry cut him off sharply. "You're not allowed, are you?"
Greyback sniffed and licked his lips. "That's the rule, yeah. But I was never one for rules … I'm hungry, that's what I am, which is bad for you."
Whether he thought that Hermione didn't have the courage, or the nerve, or whether it was just that she was a girl Harry would never know, because the werewolf did not see her come up behind him and aim her wand before it was too late. There was a flash of green light and a scream of dismay before the spell hit him in the chest. Greyback stood tall for a second longer, and then crumpled to the ground, rolling agonizingly down the stairs before coming to a halt at the Thestral's hooves.
Harry turned to Hermione, who had tears glistening in her eyes and her hand pressed to her mouth; it had been her first killing spell.
"Hermione … are you alright?"
She rushed towards him and threw her arms around his neck, a sob escaping her lips.
"I didn't know if I could do it … but he was going to kill you, Harry …"
"It's OK … we all have to manage, but it's alright. Look, we don't have time, I have to –"
"Harry I'm so glad you're alright."
"Yeah, the feeling's mutual. Is Ron OK?"
She nodded. "He was alright when I last saw him, but that was minutes ago … listen, the whole Order is here now; we sorted everyone who came, and we're minus about fifty or so who said they'd come, but they fled … but, Harry, did you see? The Thestrals –"
"– and the centaurs, yeah I saw. So everyone is fighting?"
"Yes, the element of surprise is well and truly gone now, obviously … but the rest came in through the entrance at the side of the Quidditch pitch, which was manned of course, but they were distracted by the others in the castle …"
"I've got to go and find Voldemort … no one's seen him yet, and I can't find Ginny … Hermione, people are dying everywhere and I can't stop it. Not until I –"
There was screaming again, distracting him. But it was coming from further up, and it was moving. He turned his head and held his wand high. He knew that cry, and he knew that voice. It was Ginny.
Without saying another word to Hermione, Harry turned on his heel and darted through one of the tapestries, but it had caught fire. Harry brushed it aside, feeling nothing, and sprinted up the secret staircase. On and on he rushed, sure that he could hear the screaming, that it was not in his own head, but the faster he ran the clearer he could hear it …
"Imperio!"
"No! Let me… you … let me go!"
Harry burst through one of the doorways; there were not so many people up here; a couple of frightened students here and there; it was then that Harry realised he was on the seventh floor.
He noticed that he recognised one of the students hurrying away from the tower; it was Dean Thomas. He looked as though he had seen a ghost, and to him, he probably had when he had come across Voldemort. He didn't even see Harry as he rushed past him, and Harry heard him rush down the stairs.
Harry stopped and listened intently. There was distant shouting from downstairs, but he could disentangle that if he strained his ears …
"No! You can't win this! Let me go!!"
The Astronomy Tower. That's were she was, and that was where Voldemort was.
The corridor that led to the tower was to his left, and Harry turned on his heel and fled in that direction, but as he picked up speed, something caught him around the neck. Taking by surprise, it wrenched at the side of his head and choked him so that Harry had no choice but to fall to his knees and gasp.
The thing that had caught him was released immediately, but the wrench on his throat had bruised his whole neck and Harry felt as though his head was hanging on by a thread and was about to fall off. Eyes watering, he looked up to see –
– Lucius Malfoy. And he was swinging his hooked cane back and forth.
Harry coughed and rolled to his knees.
"Well, well, well. It's the charging hero."
His voice sagged with sarcasm and triumph, and it made Harry sick.
"Got out, did you?" Harry rasped, his throat still on fire. "Took you long enough."
Malfoy smirked. "You told me many months ago that I would die, and that you would be there, Potter, do you remember? Well, you are here, you were correct enough about that. But I rather think that it is you that shall die."
"I don't have time for you, you piece of slime," Harry growled, getting to his feet, his voice still grating in his neck. "Bigger fish to fry and all that, no offence."
"Oh, but Potter you seem in such good shape … we can't have that, can we? Not unconscious yet? Let's see what we can do about that …"
Harry snorted humourlessly. "So that's it, is it? Typical. I should have guessed it would be this way. Voldemort doesn't want to face me unless I've lost an arm or something, is that right? You're all cowards, you know that?"
Malfoy chuckled and fingered his wand, his cane now under his arm. He looked like a business man.
"You still don't understand your place in all this, do you Potter? It's not about the terms. We win, and you lose."
"Get out of my way."
Harry was ready, quite ready in fact, to kill Lucius Malfoy. He was aware that the older man would not go down without a fight, which would take time; time he did not have … but there was a noise behind them both. Harry and Malfoy turned simultaneously.
"Hello, father."
"YOU?!"
It was Draco Malfoy, and he was standing there in the dimly lit corridor, his face white and pasty, but his eyes filled with such a deep passion that Harry had never seen before.
Lucius Malfoy opened his mouth and closed it again, but he rearranged his features so that he was surveying his son through narrow, almost amused eyes.
"You surely do have a death wish, my boy. Did I not make myself clear? I said I would kill you if you did not swear allegiance …"
"I heard you," Draco said bluntly. "Harry, go."
Harry stared at him. Draco Malfoy was giving him a way out; he was risking his own life in fact, against his father, to help Harry.
"A friend of the Mudbloods, are we? You astound me, child. I offer you everything and you throw it back in my face? Do you think that I will not strike you down? You think that in this war whether you are my flesh and blood matters at all?"
"Potter, go!"
Harry did not need telling a third time. He moved sideways at the speed of light, away from the two Malfoys. The elder did not try to stop him, but did not mask the snarl of irritation.
As Harry disappeared around the corner, Draco moved forwards to face his father, his hands shaking.
"I know it doesn't matter to you that I'm your son. That's what makes me different from you, father."
Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "You have made a bad choice, Draco."
Draco steeled himself and gave the smallest of shrugs. "It was my choice to make."
Lucius Malfoy raised his hand before his son did, but Draco did not shy away. This was a battle that had to be fought. To the death.
- - - - -
Harry barrelled through one of the oaken doors, oblivious to whether or not it had been locked; he even ignored the screaming pain in his shoulder and the ache around his neck. He practically fell through the doorway and stumbled out onto the moonlit cobbled stones of the tower with the stars above him, the long walkway jutting out in front of him and the stone wall to his left, the low battlements to his right.
At first, Harry did not see anyone there at all; his eyes were adjusting to the darkness of the night from the brightly lit hallway with all the spells flying around … and then he saw them, right at the end of the walkway. Voldemort was standing quite calmly, mutely white against the black sky, a thin smile upon his face. Ginny was feet away, her back against the overhanging battlements, her face rigid and wan, flanked by none other than Nagini, the enormous snake … the Horcrux.
As soon as Ginny saw Harry, she let out a little wail of despair.
"No … Harry," she whispered.
Harry swallowed. This was the first time that he and Voldemort had been face to face since the night at the Ministry two years ago; true, Harry had seen him in Hogsmead that time, and he had seen distant lost memories of Tom Riddle in Dumbledore's Pensieve, but this was the first real time since.
Voldemort's eyes appeared to have gained an even bloodier tinge to them, if that had been possible, and his face was even thinner than it had been in Harry's nightmares.
Harry was panting hard and his whole body was aching, but he faced Voldemort with his head held high. He had to make sure Ginny was safe, but he had to kill that snake before he could have a hope of doing anything else …
Harry held his hands up high. "Well? I'm here. I came. You must have something pretty important to say."
Voldemort shook his head, smiling. "Jesting at this hour, good Lord, Potter, how like your father you are."
The snake circled Ginny with its red eyes glinting in the moonlight. Harry said nothing, but looked at Ginny. She was staring at him with desperate eyes.
"Seeing as I came, you can let her go now. You don't need her for anything."
"Ahh … yes, the girlfriend. How many rumours I have heard about this young lady! She is pretty, Harry."
Ginny spat at him.
Voldemort turned to her slowly and raised his wand.
"No!" Harry shouted and started forwards, but the battlements behind Ginny simply fell away and crashed onto the grounds below. Harry's heart stopped for a second, but she did not fall, she just staggered a little, clutching the remaining turrets. Fighting couples below the tower turned to look up at the disturbance above. Before long, there were very few people fighting one another; even the giants appeared intrigued; everyone's attention was on Harry, Voldemort, Ginny and the snake above them.
"You see, Harry? I command the events, even now. You have fooled yourself into believing that you came because you wish to. Correct?"
"You won't be commanding events for long," Harry said darkly, his eyes on the snake slithering across the stone floor.
Voldemort clasped his hands together in apparent amusement, his long fingers trembling with suppressed excitement.
"Yes! I have heard about your little quest to destroy my Horcruxes. Dumbledore's idea, I presume? Yes, very courageous, Harry. I am impressed. In that case, you would only have one Horcrux left to get. Well, then, why not take it now?"
"What?" Harry mumbled, taken aback.
"Yes, go ahead. I am giving you a clear shot at Nagini. Kill her."
Harry blinked, and then raised his wand instantly, afraid that it was a trick and Voldemort would laugh in his face and Vanish the snake before Harry was able to draw breath …
But he did not.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry exclaimed.
The snake reared up in surprise, its filmy eyes suddenly on Voldemort, as though he had betrayed her, but then the bolt of green light hit her long, thin body and she crumpled with a sharp hiss.
Harry's breath caught in his throat; was it dead? How can destroying a Horcrux have been as simple as that? Maybe it was different with animals.
"An excellent strike, Harry. What are you going to do now?"
Voldemort looked as though he was enjoying himself, which was odd, Harry thought, as he had just destroyed one of the last pieces of the shattered soul.
"What, you think I won't do it?" Harry snarled. "You think I won't kill you?"
"Oh, no, I think you want to … but you can't, unfortunately. Albus Dumbledore was not as wise as you all may believe, Harry."
Harry's head was spinning. What did this all mean?
"What are you talking about?" Harry spat. "You're finished! You've got no soul left! You killed everything I ever loved, and now you're going to die."
"You can't kill me, Harry. Even if you fired a curse, which I am sure you are able of doing, you would not destroy me."
Ginny too was gazing at Voldemort with unseeing eyes. Behind Harry, there were shouts and scuffles; perhaps it was Malfoy and his father, or maybe some people had realised what was going on up in the tower and had hastened to help.
"You see –"
But Harry had raised his wand. He let the magic flow through down his arm and suffuse his very being before speaking the incantation of a particular Stunning Spell in his head.
The light shot out of his wand tip with astonishing speed and power, and took Voldemort by some surprise. It did not, perhaps, have the full effect as he was able to block some of it with sheer mind power, but Voldemort staggered backwards, away from Ginny, who shot forwards –
"Harry!"
Harry grabbed her and held her close to him for a split-second, perhaps the last ever split-second, before pushing her roughly to the door he had just come through.
"Go, now!"
She wrenched the door open and disappeared before Voldemort had even straightened up.
Harry raised his wand again, hell bent on delivering a solid Killing Curse, now that Voldemort was off balance. The green light flooded towards the Dark Lord … but it was deflected by a thick transparent shield that he had conjured upon regaining his footing; the green light hit the shield and made a deep, reverberating gong-like toll.
"I see you have learnt from the turncoat, Severus. That is all very well, but he will not be able to help you now, Potter, this will not work."
But Harry grit his teeth, determined to not be intimidated, trying desperately to remember everything Snape taught him.
You must destabilise him as much as possible before you deliver your fatal strike, or he will always deflect it …
A few broken bones ought to destabilise the bastard, Harry thought savagely, and shot one at his nemesis. The spell his Voldemort in the arm, and Harry heard a satisfying crack, but Voldemort did not even so much as blink; perhaps his body was like his soul … so maimed and torn that it did not feel anything anymore.
Voldemort raised his wand as quick as if he were drawing a gun; Harry did not even have time to draw breath. All of a sudden, he felt himself hit with a spell he had been forewarned of; it acted like the Imperious Curse, but was not as recognisable until it was cast. This curse was more of mind control than magic, which was what made it so unrecognisable.
"Enough," spat Voldemort, his red eyes now flashing anger rather than amusement. In spite of his temporary mental prison, Harry felt a surge of satisfaction at having enraged Voldemort so.
Everything in his mind willed him to succumb to the pleasant feeling that would result from obeying, but Harry fought the spell.
Be still, said the voice in his mind.
No. I'm going to kill you for everything that you've done to me.
Be still.
No. This has nothing to do with the prophecy. This is for me, and my parents, and you can't stop me.
And Harry stood up, shaking the last of the spell out of his head, like an animal clearing its ears of water.
"Potter … your resisting is making this much harder than it has to be. Very well …"
And he shot another spell directly at Harry, who saw it coming and identified it as a Winding Spell, but his head was still so full of its last invasion that he couldn't summon up the brain power to repel it –
WHAM!
Harry was slammed into the opposite wall with such force that his head cracked backwards and struck the solid stone. As he crumpled to the floor, unable to breathe very well, he felt his eyes closing.
Don't you dare, you give up now then everyone dies …
The pain in his head reached such a height that he retched and gasped, willing himself to not pass out. He rolled over and found himself quite close to the edge of the tower; he could see people, Aurors, gazing upwards in alarm, watching the entire scene. He could also hear more shouts from the doorway up to the tower, but his vision was getting cloudy. He thought he could see a wall of Death Eaters over near the doorway trying to hold back Ginny, Lupin and Ron and Hermione, but they wouldn't have been daft enough to follow him, surely.
Don't … get up …
Voldemort took two steps towards him. "Perhaps now you will allow me to explain. You cannot kill me, because Nagini was not my last Horcrux."
Harry raised his head slowly. There were black lines around the edge of his vision and he thought he was going to throw up, but he could see Voldemort's sneering face clear enough.
"W-what?"
"Yes, she was not. But you are."
This did not register right away. It appeared that Voldemort realised that none of it penetrated because he crouched down in front of Harry, whose scar gave a particularly horrible lurch.
"You are the last Horcrux, Harry Potter. Do you understand?"
Harry blinked. He had been knocked silly. This was a dream.
"No … I'm not … that's stupid …"
"I can assure you it is not. I have only been aware of it myself for a short spell, but it is true."
"But … Dumbledore said –"
"– Albus Dumbledore said a lot of foolish things, but he did inform you correctly. I imagine when he was trying to prepare you with the task of vanquishing me, he told you that it was inadvisable to confide your soul in a Horcrux? Well, that remains true. I had not realised what you are, Potter, until recently. It happened a very long while ago, and I was unaware of it … life has many little paradoxes as such. But it has been risky at times … I cannot possess you without experiencing mortal agony; that is because you have another life besides the Horcrux."
Even as he struggled to see straight, Harry recalled Dumbledore's words to him the year before in his office …
I believe he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death …
"But you didn't …" Harry mumbled, off the train of his own thought. "The Curse rebounded …"
"Yes, but the mark it left on you was enough. The spell to make my final Horcrux had been ready to use and when there was no murder to accompany it … my soul jumped when I was hit with my own curse."
Voldemort reached out and his wand traced the scar on Harry's head. Harry's eyes began to water. This was incomprehensible. All this time, he had the Horcrux inside him?
"I don't believe you."
Voldemort straightened up again, his black cloak billowing in the soft breeze. "That is neither here nor there, although ask yourself, why have I not yet killed you? As I'm sure you are aware, Potter, in spite of your little sessions with Severus, I could kill you in a second, especially now. But –"
"– if your last Horcrux is destroyed, you can be killed," Harry finished.
It was adding up; as much as it made Harry feel sicker than he had ever felt in his life, the more he thought about it, the more a tangible explanation appeared. He was the Horcrux.
"Thus; an ironic twist presents itself. Ever since I fell from power I have had the desire to kill you. And yet now, it appears that I have to keep you alive."
Harry swallowed painfully. The shouts from the doorway were becoming more insistent.
"That's why none of your scum killed me …"
"Yes."
"So what, you think I'm just going to walk away and promise to live forever? You're sick, Voldemort, you're deluded!"
"Oh no, Potter. You are going to stay somewhere where I can keep a close eye upon you. I presume from your Potions lessons you have heard of the Draught of the Living Death?"
Harry went cold. He felt as though he had swallowed an entire vat of icy water. So that was what Voldemort had in store for him? An eternity of sleep? It was worse than death … but Voldemort was smiling cruelly.
"All this time, I have wanted to see you suffer through death … for putting me through all the pain I have suffered … and now I shall witness as your life is lived – unconsciously."
It was quietening down from the doorway; perhaps they had heard what had been said and now wanted nothing to do with him, seeing as he had been a living Horcrux for seventeen years … who could blame them?
"Perhaps, in time, you may be awaken, and persuaded to join the correct side, Potter. How powerful you would be, with my soul inside you."
"Never."
Voldemort's eyes glinted.
Harry stood up shakily, his knees threatening to buckle. "When did you know?"
"I realised a number of months ago, but it is of no matter. Whilst I may have been anxious that you may have been killed outright in one of your heroic little missions and I left vulnerable, I was confident that you would not die, as you are not unintelligent."
Harry realised when Voldemort was referring too; he recalled the time when he had become aware of a knowledge of Voldemort's … Harry had thought at the time that Voldemort had become aware of what he was doing, but in actual fact, he had become aware that Harry was Horcrux.
"Have you never wondered why you have been so lucky? Whilst I may have been unaware of it before and willing to rip your life from your body, I have been unable to. You think that was all luck? Or perhaps you believed it to be your own skill. Of course not … being my Horcrux will have contributed greatly."
Harry took a deep breath and looked right into the man who had marked his entire life and made it a misery.
"You'll still never win this," he said quietly. He knew what to do.
Voldemort snorted. "Perhaps I overrated your intelligence, Potter … you are here for the sole purpose of being 'kept'. I called; you came with your predictable nature, your heroism. How does it feel to know that your valour is the reason your side fell? With you out of the way, I shall take over and purge this world of the unworthy."
You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can love.
Harry could see that Voldemort was still talking, but all he could hear was Dumbledore in his head. Whether it was actually Dumbledore's voice, or whether it was Harry's own brain, he would never know.
Know your truth, and use it well. This is my truth …
Harry stood up straighter and gazed downwards.
The Dark Lord will mark him … and he will have power the Dark Lord knows not …
He could see the lake glistening in the moonlight below … he could see a shock of red hair and a person with glasses looking up … perhaps Mr Weasley.
Voldemort should have known what he was dealing with, but he did not! He never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole …
I can still stop him. It doesn't matter what I am. I can still finish this.
The prophecy does not mean you have to do anything!
"You think you've got me figured out, don't you?" Harry said softly to the darkest wizard of all time. "You think you know me so well."
"I think I play on your weaknesses, Potter. I manipulated you tonight, and the world will pay for your weakness."
If your last Horcrux is destroyed, you can be killed …
"You can't manipulate me anymore," Harry replied, his heart beating like a drum.
Let someone else do it.
Voldemort raised his wand – and Harry jumped.
Voldemort's bellow of fury followed him, and he heard Ginny's scream of horror behind him and his friend's cries, but they were like cobwebs in a gale. As he caught one last glimpse of Hogwarts, the glorious home he had been truly happy in, he closed his eyes as he hit the water, and allowed the icy Inferi embrace him and drag him below.
- - - -
A/N: OH MY! That was so tough to write. Anyway, it is NOT the last one, there is one more to come … and I am very reluctant to let go of it. I feel like JK! Please review and let me know what you think – I was very touched by some of the recent reviews. Really, they're lovely, so thank you.
Rosie xxx