Saves Nine
Jessica sucked in a breath between her large front teeth, and without another word, collapsed, falling into her charmed sleep again.
"Sweetheart, I'm here!" Lily said as she struggled in Bellatrix's arms. She tried to kick Bellatrix, only to be punched in the face.
"She has not stopped repeating the silliest words… and how odd she woke up..." Voldemort stopped turning over the Stitch in his hands, and quietly observed her. "Jessica is quite damaged, isn't she?"
"No thanks to you," Draco clipped.
"SHUT UP, TRAITOR!" Bellatrix shrieked angrily at her nephew.
Harry just hoped Voldemort wouldn't put two and two together and question the integrity of the Stitch.
Near the entrance, a body stirred. James Potter groaned. He had been left behind, sprawled on the floor, unconscious. His Mirror kept staring at his father and Harry was getting quite anxious to help him. He tried to move a step back, but Vera Roux flicked her wand at him and her steely look silently perpetrated a threat.
"Potter, hand over your wand," Barty demanded. Thirty Death Eaters, hiding about the chamber, revealed themselves. They closed in, forming a circle.
Harry pulled out his wand, as he did so; he touched the coin, pleading for help. As Barty Crouch Accioed the wand, a collar appeared around Harry's neck.
"That shall prevent you using your Mage magic against me. So, shall we get this over with quickly?" Voldemort asked.
The Mirror sighed. "Yeah, why continue to beat around the bush about it?"
"Harry, please—"
"QUIET!" Bellatrix yelled, yanking at Lily's hair, inciting a small yelp.
The Death Eaters holding Draco, the Conditioned and Hermione were forced into the back of the chamber into one huddled group, except Bellatrix, who held Lily by the hair tightly
"Do anything stupid, Mirror Potter, and your Mudblood mother will go first."
Harry turned back and peered at the Horcruxes hovering above the Dark Lord. There was a galleon, a skull, Hufflepuff's cup, a dagger, the Sorting Hat, a leather bound book with gold detailing… and his Mirror.
"Harry," Lily whimpered. Her head was bent back so far that her teary eyes were focused on the ceiling.
His heart was pounding and his blood pulsing. He looked everywhere for anything to help.
Voldemort stared at the Mirror. "Why didn't you fight back in the Great Hall?"
"I wanted to watch you and Grindelwald battle it out—don't worry, I wanted you to beat him."
"But I didn't," Voldemort glowered. He clicked his fingers and a cup of unicorn blood appeared, which he drank swiftly. "I am still not good enough and the duel has left me almost without magic. I do not have enough energy to stimulate the absorption of power."
"So you did become a mage."
"I tried everything, only to discover that I never needed the ritual after all. I was born one, like you. We have so much in common; we share so much history…" He took a moment to flick the hovering gold galleon over. "If only you were truly mine, Harry, we could've been like… brothers, perhaps—"
"I find that hard to believe."
Voldemort inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring in anger. "We underestimated you."
"Sorry?" The Mirror shrugged, before shouting in pain.
Voldemort had thrown a white jinx at the boy. Blistering burns appeared around his collar. He let go of the curse after a lingering moment.
"But I will be myself again after this ritual is complete… I will have more power than you, and I will become a full Mage." Voldemort waited until the Mirror knelt upright again. "However, that wasn't your only reason you didn't fight in the Great Hall, Harry. You would not have wasted time to seek your brother and sister, to just sit there and watch."
"True," he hissed, "I needed to distract you from causing more harm. And it worked, didn't it? I was right there for you to take and you wouldn't want to be in the Great Hall any longer, even if it meant delivering the final blow."
An echo of a blast trembled through the chamber.
"Why are you so eager to die?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes from beneath the shadow of his hood. "Why?"
"Because I'm sick of being your Horcrux," he snapped.
Another explosion, this time stronger, made dust and rocks fall. Harry stared at the ceiling. "A battle is occurring above us and you're here just being self centred about things."
"Come closer, boy…" Voldemort ordered. "You are a part of my world now—a part of me."
"I'd rather go home. What are you going to do now?" He eyed the dagger in the Dark Lord's hands. "I mean, should I take a position at your feet as well, since I'm a Horcrux too?"
"I will keep you alive. Do as I say and perhaps I might spare you from my Death Eaters." He plucked up the galleon Horcrux, the first ever created by the goblins, and held it tight in his hand with the dagger pointed at it. The tip twinkled in a strange red and black light for a split second.
A shiver rippled over his skin. It almost felt like ghostly fingers were travelling up his arms lightly.
Harrrrrryyyyyy…
"Who will I pick first?" Voldemort asked the boy at his feet. The golden cage disintegrated, leaving the unconscious bodies in a heap. "Shall I kill Ms Weasley, Mr Rookwood's grandson… or perhaps your brother? No…" Suddenly Jessica's body started to levitate. "Your sister—"
"NO!" Lily cried. Her knees gave way, but Bellatrix forced her up. "Please don't do this—PLEASE!"
On the ground, a red circle suddenly glowed around the Dark Lord and the Horcruxes. And something that looked like blood started to seep out of it.
Can you smell it? Can you feel it? Can you see it?
As the girl hovered to a stop within the circle, Voldemort raised the Stitch, muttering an incantation, ready to strike the galleon and release his soul.
Do not fear the blackness of death…
"WAIT!" Mirror Harry spoke up, hands writhing against his restraints. "Don't use the galleon—use me first!"
Lily was sobbing, her face wet with tears. Harry tried to move, but wands were pointed at him.
Voldemort looked down, perplexed. "Why should I do that, Harry? I want you to see how this works. I want you to see the people you care so much for die for me—"
"It's over! I get it. We're all going to die," he said in defeat. There was a plea in his voice. "How much more can you put me through? I—I don't want to see you killing my family. Just grant me this final mercy. I know you feel it, those souls you stole will be making you feel new emotions."
Voldemort looked furious, and Harry felt it in his scar. He slashed his wand and the Mirror fell, his muscles taut with the agony of the curse.
"My Lord," Bellatrix started. "Perhaps, it might be good that he dies first. We both know Potter, and I think he will use the time to try and thwart you."
Harry closed his eyes and connected with his Mirror. "Harry, what are you planning? Tell me!"
"You'll know what to do when the time comes." The Mirror closed off the connection.
Harry instinctively looked to his side, and saw shadows disappear behind the columns, and into darkness. Heart thumping, he quickly eyed James who still unconscious and back to Jessica.
Voldemort let go of the galleon, letting it float above him once again. "Rise, Harry," he ordered, and the boy obeyed. He circled the Mirror, until he was right behind him.
Harry couldn't just let Voldemort kill him. It was so wrong. Everyone was pleading for mercy, but their voices were drowned out. All Harry could hear was his own heartbeat, and the tantalising connection opening up slightly.
"Harry, Tell me what to do, and I'll help you…"
The Mirror looked up, green eyes meeting green. There was fear. There was excitement and relief. Harry could almost feel the burden lifting away from his Mirror's shoulders.
Harrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyy….
A second later, the Mirror's eyes widened and a gasp escaped his throat. Lily screamed as Mirror Harry's body arched when Voldemort drove the dagger deeper into his back.
Harrrrryyyy Potter…Die. Die…
DIE!
Harry froze. He heard nothing but a ringing sound in his ear as he felt like his world was crumbling around him. He saw Lily collapsing just as her son did and the people who cared for him struggling to free themselves.
Will you dance to the blackness of death?
The Mirror fell onto his side, black robes splayed as blood blossomed out. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened unnaturally wide. Voldemort withdrew the dagger, laughing.
The black dagger laughed as well. Oh yes, yes you will.
He couldn't die. Voldemort was meant to die, not his Mirror.
The blood seeping out of the circle grew larger by the second as Voldemort continued with the incantation. The Mirror involuntarily arched his back again, and Voldemort's soul, black and thick and red, exited his mouth, circling the dagger before Voldemort let it re-enter his own mouth.
Bellatrix screeched in delight as she threw Lily to the ground. His Mirror mother had lost her fight as she inched towards her dead son.
As the Mirror lay lifeless on the ground, Voldemort staggered, clutching his chest. He was smiling deliriously. Beads of sweat formed on his bald, white head. He turned, murmuring words, and the Stitch glowed back. He raised it above his head, ready to plunge it into Jessica.
"DON'T!" Harry yelled. He sprinted and pushed Voldemort out of the way, before the dagger struck flesh. They both landed with a thud and the dagger glinted ominously in the Dark Lord's grasp.
"MY LORD!" Bellatrix yelled.
Harry suddenly screamed as white hot agony ripped through him.
Around the chamber Death Eaters were slashing their wands. Harry barely registered that wizards were fighting Death Eaters. And somehow, the Conditioned had freed themselves.
It is always dangerous using a life as a Horcrux… Did you know that, Tom?
"What is this—? What are you doing to me? HARRY!" Voldemort shouted, holding a hand to his chest. The Stitch was trembling in his hand.
Die, Tom.
Harry bolted upright, his body still stinging from the Cruciatus, and saw the fear in Voldemort's eyes.
You have been tricked… DIE!
"This is wrong. I've done it right. You cannot—!"
He has used his impure soul to save the children.
"RELEASE ME!"
The boy is more cunning than you think… You are one now, Tom. The Stitch laughed coldly. And now the ritual is tainted.
"YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!" He turned the Obsidian Stitch towards his own heart. "NO!" Voldemort was struggling to halt the Stitch in his gloved hands. He had no control over it.
Clever, clever boy...
Harry held his breath and jerked backwards far away from Voldemort. Even though his Mirror was dead, Harry heard him laughing. He couldn't die until this was over.
"NO!" Voldemort yelled. "BELLATRIX!"
Then a red, silvery sphere erupted from the glowing red circle, trapping Voldemort, his Mirror and Harry, and preventing the curses from penetrating the barrier.
"MY LORD!" Bellatrix screamed, rushing to his side. But she was flung away, out of the circle, where Barty came to her rescue.
Voldemort inhaled sharply, terrified. "I cannot control—Help—"
You are beyond help… We mock you. We despise you. You must be destroyed.
His red eyes were so wide as he stared at the dagger, before it pierced through his chest. Again and again it forced him to stab it around his heart. He was still alive, still breathing, yet Voldemort was in such a shock that not one sound escaped him. Around the wounds, his blood rose, defying gravity, like beautiful red ribbons.
Voldemort's hand delved into his chest and with one final movement, ripped his heart out. He fell right next to Harry, lifeless, his heart still beating in his spidery white fingers.
The Stitch exploded into a thousand glittering pieces, hovering and circling around the bodies. The bodies rose and arched back in unison. Voldemort's beating heart was between them and a black and red soul seeped from it, along with two tethered white ones.
Harry watched them twist, unfurl, and twirl, struggling to be ripped apart… to be freed.
People were rushing around them, dodging spells, trying to help. But in the circle, Harry was mesmerised by the awe of power and the supernatural. The circling, glittering black pieces of the Stitch began to speed up. The hovering Horcruxes were suddenly flung out of the circle, and even Harry was ejected.
"DESTROY THE HORCRUXES!" Draco commanded. He grabbed the galleon. Hermione threw him the fang, while Emily and Parvati got the rest as curses continued to fly around them.
Draco cried out in pain when the curse hit his shoulder and they heard a sickening crack. Vera Roux tried to poke Emily's eyes out.
Harry heard the Stitch laughing around them, echoing in the chamber now. It made their hair stand on end, and the fight between Death Eaters and the Order froze.
Die… die… DIE!
Bellatrix took the opportunity to try and kill her nephew, when Harry knocked her off her feet. She stared at him with hatred, before Disapparating.
"HELP THE CHILDREN!" screamed Lily. Harry saw Kingsley and Snape whip past, pulling the sleeping bodies to safety.
Barty Crouch Apparated across several sections of the chamber and as Hermione aimed over Harry's shoulder. He turned around because he guessed the Death Eater would attack from behind. With a crack his form materialised.
"REDUCTO!" Yelled Hermione and Parvati.
Crouch swerved and rolled away in time, positioning himself to curse the girls when Marianna threw a bloody curse. Blood spurted in every direction before the Death Eater fell.
"Where's Bellatrix?" Harry yelled, looking around feverishly. Where was she?
Parvati bolted forward staring up at the Mirror. "NO! Harry held her back. "Don't go in the circle."
"But—"
"NOT YET!" Harry commanded as they watched the souls twisting.
Then the two white spirits were flung out. The girls' souls were freed, injured but still whole.
Thank you… they whispered as they exited the circle.
Their presence on Harry's skin was like the soft dawn breeze on a winter's day. The girls' spirits let out a deep sigh of relief and slowly vanished.
"Quick, kill the hat!" Malfoy panted, clutching his mangled shoulder.
Hermione aimed the fang at the Sorting Hat. It let out an ear splitting shriek and the black spirit vanished.
The adrenalin was fierce. He focused on the souls fighting. "Come on, Harry! You can beat him." Voldemort's broken soul was distinguishable from his Mirror's dark red one as they battled it out above them. Then their bodies fell, hitting the ground hard.
But his mind was opening up, and he found himself being sucked into the void.
His Mirror was hanging on by a thread.
Glimpses of memories flashed across his mind: happy ones and sad ones. He saw his Mirror tickling Jessica, ruffling Michael's hair, walking alongside a big boar and laughing with Christopher.
Life… the Stitch whispered, intruding into his mind.
Then Lily touched his Mirror's cheek, as Sirius and James, Remus were sloshing butterbeer and singing out of tune to a Christmas song "You look so different without your glasses."
The Mirror squeezed his mother's hand and smiled. But it was a forced smile, and a sad one. "Thanks, I wanted to try a different look."
"Harry, you're exhausted. Dumbledore's making you do too much, isn't he?"
He sighed. "A little..."
The memory changed and the Mirror was holding baby Jessica in his arms… "I'm going to protect you," he said, kissing her forehead.
Blackness was creeping into the memories now, like a hazy veil.
In a forest entangled by the mist, Harry glimpsed the full moon rising above the trees. In front of Harry was a large hole filled with a few dozen bodies, in various states of decomposition. At the other side, two wizards were throwing in another victim. Harry recognised him as the Muggle man his Mirror had killed in a memory where he had trained with Bellatrix.
The wizards stretched their backs.
"I hate this time of the fucking month. The smell is sickening," one said.
"Let's go, Buttler. The werewolves will be out to scavenge these poor Muggles soon." They left, leaving Harry to wonder where his Mirror was.
The hole was filled with Muggle victims used in Death Eater training sessions. Then he saw something sprint to the man who had been thrown into the hole.
The Mirror dragged him out and lay him on the ground. Harry rushed forwards and watched as his Mirror cupped his hands over his face. "Wake up," he whispered.
Then the man inhaled the deepest breath he could muster.
And death… death… death…
Harry heard a crunch of glass and the growling laughter of Greyback behind him.
"Woof, woof, little doggie… "
Harry turned, trying to locate the Mirror in the darkness. Instead, he found the werewolf, and he was destroying his Mirror's glasses with his boot, grinding them down into the bloodied ground.
And then the memory swirled quickly into a different one, covered in that same dark haze.
They were in cell number 13. The door unlocked and a goblin strolled in.
The Mirror raised his eyebrows. "This is unusual."
The goblin grunted. "I'm in here checking the wards against your power. Minister's order." The goblin looked around, touching the graffiti covered walls. "All good."
The Mirror cocked his head as he stood up, feeling a little curious. "Do you have a message for me?"
The goblin pulled out a small bit of parchment. "The Death Eater girl sent you this."
The Mirror almost yanked the message from the goblin's fingers, but he hid his hand behind his back, his black eyes twinkling. "You're not quite yourself now, are you? The girl thought as much."
"Who do you think I am?"
"A Horcrux."
The Mirror laughed coldly. "Why do you care?"
"Because we've been watching you for a long time, Potter, and there are things which would interest you. Did you know Grindelwald's has been on the loose for months now? They say he's hiding in England."
"Does it look I care?"
"You should. You better watch out, Potter, he's always had an ambition to become a Mage. Two of our goblins went missing. We think he's experimenting on them."
"Again, I say, I. Don't. Care."
"Who am I speaking to now?"
The Mirror looked directly into the goblin's eyes. "Are you satisfied?"
"Aye, I'll just give you this message, and then I'll be back when I know you can fight Voldemort properly."
Mirror Harry scowled, but finally read the message. Harry looked over the Mirror's shoulder to read it himself.
Draco has just discovered the Pettigrew children are living in Bellatrix's quarters in a secret storage chamber.
"Tell her, Draco should let them escape when Azkaban's invaded or the Ministry is. Bellatrix and the Malfoys would be at their busiest then… Draco can just let them go. There's no way he'd risk his life taking them to the Order. He should give them Muggle map coordinates to hide in abandoned caves like I did. He'll know what to do."
"Because wizards won't have a clue what Muggle coordinates are!"
He nodded. "That should give the Conditioned safety until they're found by the Order."
"Why are you so concerned about these brats?"
The boy scrunched up the message and chewed it. "Because I promised their father I'd protect them."
The goblin grinned. "You can fight Voldemort when you want to, though, the longer you're stuck in here, his grip will grow stronger and he will feed off the power of your Dark phase. He will drive you mad."
"He's already doing it."
A new memory formed, barely visible at first. Harry saw the Mirror closing the office door as the memory became begrudgingly clearer.
"You summoned me, my Lord," the Mirror said.
"Come closer," Voldemort ordered. He stared out of the stained glass window as the Mirror approached the desk. "I would like a debriefing about the attack you were involved in yesterday."
"I wasn't heading the mission—"
"Nevertheless, I would like your version of events."
Mirror Harry seemed slightly alarmed and he shifted his weight onto his other foot.
Voldemort turned and eyed the boy. "I encourage competition amongst the younger Death Eaters and Conditioned. It helps me pick out the brightest of the army for a position of power." He walked around the desk until he was close to the boy. But the Mirror stared ahead without blinking. "You have been causing quite a stir in the last few months... not including the basilisk deaths. How many prisoners did you take yesterday?"
"Ten, master—the family of blood traitors you wanted."
"Tortured?"
"All of them."
Voldemort leaned in closer. "Your death toll?"
The Mirror's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "I killed two Aurors who were protecting the family."
"Really?"
The boy turned his head slightly, and without warning, Voldemort smashed his head against the desk, inciting a shout of pain. Voldemort leaned down close enough, so that they were both eye to eye.
"Death is a necessity of war. Death weeds out my opposition. Death is fear."
He yanked a fist full of the Mirror's hair before speaking. "Since you have become my servant, it is said that you have killed fifty people."
"Yes."
"Do not lie." Voldemort plunged his hand into the Mirror's robes.
The Mirror struggled, making Voldemort smack his head against the desk in retaliation. He soon found what he wanted: the yew and phoenix wand.
"Your true count is nine, I think..." he hissed venomously.
"That's not true—"
"The Aurors you killed yesterday are alive."
"How—?"
"Have you thought your little tricks have blinded me?"
"Not anymore—ARGHH!"
"You never did." Voldemort pulled the curse off the boy. "There have been sightings of your victims alive. More recently: Roger Tatum and his son, Ned. In yesterday's attack, I was there in disguise. I wanted to watch you—I wanted to see you at work." He pulled on the boy's hair, making him wince. "You didn't use the Killing Curse correctly on the Aurors. Either you have an inherent failure to grasp the power of the curse or... you've done it in purpose. But I know you, Harry. You deceived us."
"I have killed—"
"Not if you could avoid it!" Voldemort muttered the spell and regurgitated the spells cast from Harry's wand. "How many of your deaths have you spoken to Dumbledore about?"
"None!" the Mirror beseeched. "They wouldn't remember being hit with the curse. And there are many of the Conditioned who fail to use the curse correctly in the field... it doesn't even register with the Order."
The first spells that poured out of the wand were torture hexes and curses, and then the first dead to emerge were the Aurors he had killed with the Killing Curse. However, the wand's shimmering echo revealed only obscure, unrecognisable faces with no eyes.
"All lies, Harry. Even that could fool Dumbledore himself. How did you warp the Killing Spell to fake a death like that? When I checked the Aurors they did n't have a heartbeat... but there was a telltale flutter of their pupils."
"What can I say? I'm talented. I like keeping my secrets secret." He straightened up once again, staring ahead.
"And therefore, keep me or even the Order from knowing who you have truly killed. Why this charade?"
"Like you said, it's a competition. I cheated a little so I could rise up—"
"Your wish has come true." He walked around the desk once more. "I am raising your position—again. You will be my right hand man. I want you by my side all the time."
"Why?" This surprised the Mirror.
"Because I will be keeping a close eye on you and your exploits."
"Perhaps you should keep me on a leash."
"You keep up that attitude, and I will muzzle you as well," Voldemort hissed. "Besides, I will enjoy watching Bellatrix and Severus scheme against you. That will keep you on your toes."
"Am I dismissed, master?"
"Not quite. I have a mission for you. You will begin in two days… you will gather my remaining Horcruxes and bring them to me. Destroy any one of them, including yourself, and I will order the Death Eaters to kill the Mudbloods imprisoned in their homes." He laughed.
The boy grimaced as a trickle of blood slithered down his temple.
"After you have returned, the prisoners will be housed here and some will become slaves. I do not want the castle to fall apart and they will maintain it and give my lowly servants some amusement."
A flicker of dread rippled over the Mirror's face. "The retrieval of your Horcruxes could take me months—"
"Then you must use your time productively. Report back to me every day. Bring them back Harry. And if you so much as utter a syllable to Dumbledore, they are all dead."
The boy scoffed. "Don't worry, my Lord, I've been avoiding him."
"You can fight my Horcrux and its possession all you want, but you are mine. There will never be any escape for you."
The Mirror smirked. "You fear me."
Voldemort laughed. "You are not invincible, Harry. That is just teenage arrogance. Once I get my power back you will be the one to fear me."
The memory darkened and the words disappeared into silence. Mirrors appeared around him, dimming and brightening. Harry caught snippets of memories in each one.
But the mirrors circling Harry were cracking. Pieces drifted away, rising into the black void.
His mirror spoke again, but faintly, like a whisper into his ear.
"The next day he tracked my family. We went on the picnic. He found her…" The Mirror's voice was growing faint.
"Harry, you can't die!"
"I'm so tired. So… so tired..."
"That's not an excuse!"
"Go home, Harry. I am so, so sorry."
The connection broke. Harry gasped. People were shouting around him, spells shooting into the air. Harry ran to his Mirror and touched his hand. He was not thrown back, like Bellatrix had been. He looked at his Mirror and up at the souls fighting above them.
Do you feel us, Harry…?
Then the red spirit was free and it hovered low over Voldemort's body, preventing his own soul from entering it as they destroyed the last of the Horcruxes.
Harry held his Mirror's hand. "Come on, come on, come on," he kept repeating under his breath. He needed his Mirror to hold strong. But he took the Mirror into his arms and he limply hung back.
Harrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy…
The Stitch's voice was replaced with Lily's. Harry could not mistake his mother's anguish. "Please don't die... please."
In the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy strike Hufflepuff's cup with the fang and an unearthly scream filled the air.
From in the circle, Voldemort's soul reared and screamed.
The black shards of the Stitch fell onto the ground, and were attracted to each other like a magnet. The Stitch reformed again, perfect and glowing blackly.
Death is what meets evil. We mock you.
"Harry, fight him!" Lily urged, kneeling by her son, holding him close to her chest. She stroked away his hair. "You are stronger than he ever was. We love you. We love you so much." She cried, her tears falling onto her son's face. She looked down and pressed her lips to her son's forehead.
With the final Horcrux destroyed, Draco, Hermione, Emily and Parvati entered the red, bloody circle and knelt around the Mirror. Voldemort's spirit attacked his Mirror's again, trying to enter his body.
Destroy me…
It was words for Harry's ears only. A thousand whispers of men, women and children urged him on with their yearning for justice and with the yearning to free their souls.
The Mirror's soul started to vanish as Voldemort's continued to lunge at it. But it was too late for Voldemort, he was disappearing as well.
Lily cried. "Harry, don't go."
Destroy us and we will help.
Then another voice, hissing and cold approached him.
"Oh no…" Draco's eyes widened.
The black soul reformed above and blackened. It wasn't over yet. Harry was still a Horcrux.
Voldemort plunged forward. It entered Harry's body, like a cold hateful wave.
"You are the last Horcrux!"
"NO!" Harry shouted. Through the agony, he outstretched his hand and the Stitch zoomed into it, like a willing command.
Yesssssssssss. You feel us. We will help you.
"He belongs to me! We are one."
All Harry could think of was death, and love. He could hear Voldemort's spirit screaming in pain.
You are nothing Tom…weak and mean. Love is your curse. Die.
It was working. Voldemort's soul began to relinquish his hold on him. But he felt glued to it, like Voldemort knew this was his final chance to stay alive. The connection was so strong that it was pulling at his very being. It was agony.
Harry thought with all his might about Ginny, his friends and about his Mirror family.
Yes…
Open your eyes.
Through the screams, Harry obeyed. Two small flayed things which looked like small children screamed and screamed; they were being pulled away from Harry into the darkness, by thousands of black hands, by spirits young and old, evil and good.
Open your eyes.
Harry awoke. And the black souls were dispelled from his mouth, disappearing into thin air. He could feel his own Horcrux clinging on for dear life, but in a split second it was gone too. The pain in his scar was horrendous, and it had opened, blood was gushing down his face. The Stitch was still in his hand, on his forehead. It had carved open his scar.
Destroyyyyyyyy me… And death will surrender. His mouth was moving, but it was the Stitch that spoke.
Lily's face swam into view, her eyes red and full of tears. She held the Stitch forcing it away from his head. "Together," she said.
He held the dagger so tightly and willed it to break. It shattered into a thousand pieces. The glassy black stone of petrified heart rose up around them, this time never to be reformed again.
Thank you.
A blinding white light rippled through the chamber with a gust of wind, and then everything was still again.
