Chapter Fifty-Two: Belinda Harper's Revenge
April 13th, 1944
Belinda watched from high up in a tree as her uncle Gellert was attacked by Albus Dumbledore. Estelle Black had kicked her in the shin but she had Confunded the girl and run away. She'd run as fast as she could as the Black girl blinked, dazed, and everyone else dueled, so caught up in what they were doing that no one noticed that Belinda Harper was escaping. She'd paused next to a dead witch in the bushes, transfigured her hair the exact same shade of red as Belinda's, and then aimed her wand at the women's face, exploding it off. Wiping fragments of blood and bone off of her own face Belinda stepped on her wand until it broke into pieces and glanced behind her. No one was watching still. She jumped in the air, grabbing onto a low hanging branch in the tree nearby and climbed, higher and higher, until she was fully hidden. It was there she saw her Uncle Grindelwald get defeated and arrested, his followers injured and restrained. She saw "Belinda" get identified, her broken wand pieces collected, as her mind plotted. Then, hours after it seemed like everyone left, Belinda pulled out her spare wand and Apparated to Knockturn Alley.
She made her way back to Borgin and Burkes, where an amused Teivel Borgin congratulated her on rising from the dead. Belinda, not seeing the humor in the situation, stabbed him in the neck. As he bled out on the floor, she took the invisibility cloak Borgin had been holding out to her off his dying body, Grabbed a large jug of Polyjuice potion off the shelf, took back her money from the counter, and Apparated away.
The things she did in the next weeks were unspeakable. The magic she'd learned, the spells she'd cast, the potions she'd drunk, the books she'd read, the revenge she planned.
She'd been in the Forbidden Forest, looking for a unicorn so she could kill it and drink its blood, when she'd heard Riddle and Granger approach. And then a swarm of do gooding fools had shown up, and it had been surprisingly easy to grab Dorcas Meadowes without anyone noticing, plucking out one of her dirty blonde hairs and dumping it into a flask of Polyjuice she'd been drinking out of when she couldn't use the invisibility cloak, and pushing Meadowes's body under a bush after stripping it.
True, she hadn't had to kill the girl. Dorcas Meadowes hadn't ever done anything to her. But it was cleaner. And then Belinda had rejoined the stupid little group in a Ravenclaw uniform and Dorcas's body.
She had sidled over nonchalantly, and since Granger was throwing such a fit over everyone coming with them to "an alternate dimension" or whatever she was babbling about, no one had been any the wiser. Belinda didn't fully know what was going on, but it didn't matter, because now her moment had come. She had moved away from the group when she'd felt the Polyjuice wearing off, donned a black robe from one of the "Death Eaters" whoever they were, and strolled over to join what she had come to understand was Tom Riddle in this dimension.
There she had helped the melting snake creature next to her, cursing an old man with long white hair and glasses to protect the snake man, biding her time until the right moment came, when her Tom Riddle saw her, when everyone saw her, Belinda Eugenia Harper, and everyone saw her power, her beauty, and her vengeance. So she waited, and when she cast "Avada Kedavra" it was with a happy heart.
What she didn't count on, was the robes.
November 14th, 1996
"No!" the strangled shout came from a girl, but Tom didn't realize it was actually Hermione screaming in fear over him until her hand clasped his arm, attempting to drag him out of the line of fire. But it was too late, and the Killing Curse struck him dead in the chest, where his heart was.
The Curse ricocheted off the old fashioned robes, blinding green.
Riddle stumbled and fell, confused, wondering why he was still able to think, how long was it that his brain would work even though he was dead. Perhaps the Horcrux in the diary had saved him? Or the Horcrux in the ring? He sprawled on the floor, Hermione falling half on top of him. Even through the loud chaos of the Great Hall, he could hear new, fresh screams.
"Am I dead?" he asked stupidly.
Hermione jumped off of him without answering, wand in hand, running off.
Riddle looked down at his heart and saw a tear in his robes shaped like a bolt of lightning.
"Am I dead?" he asked again. He looked to his left, where the noise was loudest, and met the open, staring eyes of Igneus Malfoy.
Phobos saw the whole thing in crystal clarity that would haunt him to his dying day. Belinda Harper, far from being dead in the service of Grindelwald, was somehow here, in this alternate reality, and she was as mad as a hatter.
Her curse flew at Riddle, and none of them had time to move. No one but Igneus, who lunged at Riddle, and Hermione, who wasn't strong enough to move Riddle out of the way of the Killing Curse in time.
The green light that should've killed him hit Riddle dead on in the chest, and bounced off of him, away from Granger, and hitting the next closest person square in the face.
"IGNEUS!" Marion Hinsley screamed, understanding before anyone else.
Riddle was falling to the ground, Granger was on top of him, the boy called Harry Potter was shouting and running towards this reality's Lord Voldemort. Marlene Smith was dueling Belinda alongside Evelyn Sanders, Dougal was screaming and grabbing at their cousin's motionless body, and Granger had jumped off of the blinking and confused Riddle and run off after Harry Potter. There were ghosts everywhere, there was a tubby boy with a pudding bowl haircut surrounded by house elves and a swarm of murderous black robed adult wizards, but none of it meant a thing to Phobos. His cousin, the only Malfoy ever in Ravenclaw, the Head Boy, was dead.
"Hey Lord Wossface," Harry Potter shouted across the room, equal measures of triumph and rage filling him, as his nose-less nemesis was distracted, gaping at his younger version on the floor who had almost died, "your time's over."
It was a terrible quip, but the best he could do under the circumstances.
Brigitte was next to him. He could feel the hum of the robes, the power contained within the threads of the material, the blood magic. Every spell he'd been casting had been thrice as powerful as usual. Hermione was running their way, her wand out. Riddle was sitting up, rubbing his head, but that was alright, Harry didn't need that idiot anyway. Blaise was next to him, and Brigitte, and soon Hermione, and he had this weird quasi Dumbledore fighting on their behalf and the powerful Elder wand in his hand, and sure one important thing with ginger hair and an obsession with the Chudley Cannons was missing, but he had to make do with what he had.
"You hit him on the right," someone muttered to his left, "and I'll—well, I guess I'll stand here and look heroic, yeah?"
"Ron?" Harry said, distracted, for next to him was his shaggy red haired friend, all long nose and long limbs and freckles, as if he'd willed him into being by thinking about him.
"Focus, 'Arrry," the sexy French girl in atrocious bobby socks said.
"Yeah, focus, Harry," Ron said, raising an eyebrow at Brigitte, then turning to Harry and waggling his eyebrows in exaggerated approval.
"You're such a prat," Harry grumbled as he gripped the wand of his Albus Dumbledore tighter, but it was hard to grumble through a smile.
"Come on," Hermione said unexpectedly from behind them, as Voldemort kept gaping at Riddle lying on the ground who was gaping at the corpse of a Malfoy. Nearby, the mysterious red haired girl who was a diabolical murderer was dueling a group of alternate universe students. "Let's finish this."
As if the occupants of the Great Hall had been waiting for Hermione to say this, the battle exploded again, the shock of seeing the long dead shaken off.
Next to them, Philippe and Christoph were battling a Death Eater and losing.
"Go help them," Harry said unexpectedly to Brigitte as they wove their way through the crowd to where Voldemort was recovering his wits… such as they were at this point.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a dark skinned woman in an old fashioned silver wedding dress holding hands with a curly haired blond man nodding at them.
"You need me, non?" Brigitte said, surprised.
"No," Harry said, knowing it was true and not knowing why. He glanced at the unknown witch and wizard. They nodded at him again. "I need you to save those kids."
Brigitte didn't need to be told again, and she blasted a spell at the Death Eater who had almost just killed Christoph but ducked her spell in time.
"We do need Riddle however," Harry said grudgingly as they raised their wands. They were almost close enough to get a clear shot at Voldemort. Almost.
"No," Hermione said, reaching for Harry's shoulder left with her free hand, "we don't."
The ghost or memory or whatever he was of Ron Weasley placed his hand on Harry's right shoulder.
"Let's do this," Ron agreed.
Suddenly Tom Riddle had leapt to his feet, shouting, red in the face, and then before anyone could do a thing he was pushing past the trio and dueling...himself.
Harry lowered his wand, cocking his head.
Riddle shouted a spell that Voldemort blocked with ease, their wands blurring from the speed of their duel.
"This is awkward," Harry said finally, as the battles around them raged, turning against the heroes, as the Death Eaters were still invincible, "I thought I was about to save the day."
"Oh, you are," Ron said.
Riddle dueled...well, Riddle, or Voldemort dueled Baby Voldemort, or Riddle dueled Voldemort, or a pretty boy who barely had a soul dueled a snake man who resembled a melted wax figurine, however you wanted to look at it.
"Err...you sure?" Harry said skeptically. It really looked like Riddle was about to kill Voldemort for them.
"He can't kill himself," Hermione said. She casually blasted a Death Eater who had almost killed Parvati and a crying Padma Patil.
"Why, is it against his pristine moral code?" Harry said, snickering at his own joke.
"Terrible, mate," the ghost of Ron muttered, but he snickered too.
"No, I mean he literally can't!" Hermione said, as they blasted Dolohov to smithereens and Snape and Lupin high fived, smiling at each other.
"The world's ending," Ron said as they watched their professors move on to hugging. There were ghost of two black haired men near Remus and Snape who were hugging as well but Harry never saw them.
"It's the Horcruxes," Hermione insisted in that nagging tone of hers that told Harry he was about to hear a lecture on house elf rights. Hopefully she wasn't about to accost Crabbe and his posse of house elves about fair wages right now.
On their left, Brigitte and her robes were rescuing Katie and Sam and Morag from a group of Death Eaters, but the trio didn't notice that either.
Blaise had picked up a frying pan from a house elf and was whacking Death Eaters and chortling.
A girl who was cosplaying as a young Augusta Longbottom had joined forces with the Dursleys and was swinging around a heavy bag, hitting enemies in the face with it.
"Don't know what Horcruxes are," Harry said, as they raced through the chaos, blasting a path through Death Eaters like carving a cake while all around them their mates floundered.
Riddle vs Riddle had gotten so out of a control a ring of fire made from serpents surrounded them.
"Well I suppose he could kill himself," Hermione said, contradicting herself, "Blaise killed Nagini, right? That should've been the last one, but Riddle doesn't have the elder wand..."
"Perfect," Harry said, as they leapt over a corpse in their way, Ron walking through it, "I did so want to steal his glory."
On their right, Hagrid was fighting like a super-powered Vernon Dursley, knocking out Death Eaters left and right with his meaty fists, a group of boys in old fashioned Hogwarts uniforms next to him, their robes off and their sleeves rolled up.
"I'm dead for three months and everyone turns into a bare-knuckle street fighter," Ron mused.
Bellatrix was dueling Ethelinda Higgs and Estelle Black and the remnants of the Slytherin girls, shrieking with laughter, before Ethelinda rolled up her own sleeves and darted forward, slapping her in the face. It was a wimpy slap, the kind a pure-blood woman gave to an unruly house elf for daring to hand her clashing jewels for supper, but Bellatrix still screamed loudly and with the highest drama, falling over. Harry blinked.
"Purebloods," Hermione sighed.
"Don't taint us all with the same brush," Ron's ghost said indignantly.
His hand was still on Harry's right shoulder. Hermione's was on his left.
The area around Riddle and Voldemort was emptying out, as the fire made of serpents grew, their wands flashing faster.
"This is it," Harry said grimly, "Ron, you're already dead, but Hermione-"
"Shut it, you," Ron said, "no one else is dying today. You're the Chosen Boy, remember? It's really past time that you saved the day."
"Frigus Glacies," Hermione whispered, and a jet of ice flew from her wand, dousing the serpents in one go.
Riddle got hit in the arm by a spell from Voldemort and he screamed, a terrifying sound as blood drenched his robes from a deep cut.
Voldemort hit Riddle on his right side with a curse made of purple light, and Riddle fell to one knee, like he was about to propose.
"No," Hermione said, her voice still a whisper
"He's toying with Riddle," Ron said, "why doesn't he just kill him?'
"No," Hermione said, her voice stronger, "he can't!"
Even through the noise of the hall Voldemort heard something and spun, but the trio ducked behind a fallen statue just in time.
Voldemort hit Riddle in the left part of his abdomen and Riddle fell, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand, and tried to make his way to his feet.
Harry met his eyes, as Riddle fell back, defeated, blood gushing from his arm.
"He can't die," Hermione said, her voice choked.
Voldemort strode forward. Harry could almost hear the cliched gloating now. He'd spent a solid two hours of his life with that idiot yammering at him over the years, so he knew Riddle's pain.
"Ew," Ron said, at Hermione's obvious distress about Riddle.
"He can't die unless it's me killing him," Hermione said furiously.
"Ah, that's my girl," Ron said affectionately.
"I'm going to kill Riddle so dead!" Hermione vowed.
"Bitch," Harry said to Hermione, "get in line."
Hermione's mouth dropped, and Harry stood, his scar livid against his pale and sweaty forehead, his green eyes ablaze, feet planted wide in a hero pose.
Voldemort finally finished his monologue, and raised his wand to kill Riddle.
Now was his chance.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted triumphantly.
"Expelliarmus?" Ron and Hermione chorused behind him, aghast.
Well. Perhaps he should've used the killing curse.
Harry reached his right hand up, and Voldemort's wand flew into it.
Riddle sprang to his feet like a cat, and cast the killing curse while their enemy was disarmed. Voldemort fell with a thunk.
Tom Riddle, melted candle wax man version, was dead.
Hermione stared down at the corpse of Tom Riddle, as the very alive youth of Tom Riddle tried to speak to her. He couldn't get close to her, as he had been surrounded by a group of well-wishers screaming thanks and congratulations at him for taking down the most evil wizard of all time. Harry was faring no better, as Dudley Dursley and Hagrid had tackled him at the same time and it was possible Harry was now dead from their combined heft.
"Well, I guess you sleeping with the enemy was a small price to pay to save the world, eh Hermione?"
She turned to look at Ron, who was there but not there, a ghost but not, a boy who she had maybe been growing to love as more than a friend. He was smiling at her, but the look in his eyes was wistful.
"I didn't sleep with him," Hermione said stupidly.
Riddle was still struggling to pry Marlene Smith off of his waist and reach her.
"I know," Ron said, "I mean, you haven't yet, anyway."
"I won't," Hermione said, horrified, "not ever."
"Sure," Ron said, "only you want to, yeah?"
"No!" Hermione shouted, but it was so loud in the room from the screams of joy and the weeping of the students who'd been placed under Liberi Loqui, the flashes and bangs as the rest of Voldemort's followers were detained or killed as their invincibility spell broke, that no one else heard her.
"It's okay," Ron shrugged, "I'm not mad. Maybe we would've been something. Maybe not."
"We would have," Hermione said, her throat clogged, "it would have been you, Ron. Not…. not…."
"Zabini?" Ron supplied, "or Riddle? Or maybe Malfoy Junior?"
"I mean, technically it's his great uncle, we think," Hermione said nonsensically. She was trying, above all, not to think of Phobos and his dead cousin and everyone else who'd been killed.
Belinda Harper was screaming curses at the top of her lungs over in the corner, but her wand had been snapped in half long ago.
"Shut up, you evil little twat," Patrick Black's voice carried over the room.
"It's okay Hermione," Ron said gently, "you've got to live your life now. In another lifetime, maybe?"
"I'm sure," Hermione said, tears welling in her eyes. She was sure, now that she knew alternate realities existed. She was positive.
She leaned forward, and so did Ron, but right before they hugged he disappeared.
"No!" Hermione wailed, but so many screams of disappointment were going up around the room as the rest of the army of the dead disappeared that her voice was swallowed up again.
Riddle was trying to throw off Rutherford Lestrange now, who was kissing him on the neck and screaming "we did it, my lord!" but Hermione didn't see. She stared at the spot where Ron had been.
Harry was on Hagrid's shoulders now, hoisted above the crowd as a rousing chorus of song was led by Peeves about Harry's heroics.
Oh Potter the Great,
It's time that we rate,
You the best of all others,
For having your druthers,
To take out old Voldy,
He really was moldy-
"Of course he gets that song," Hermione said to no one, thinking of the thirty-two verse epic Peeves had given her about her dastardly boy crushing ways. "No Potter the Plotter for Harry, oh no."
If she joked, she didn't remember Ron. She didn't remember Igneus Malfoy. She didn't remember that her mother was still dead. She didn't remember Millicent and Seamus and Dorcas and so many others.
"Well," Blaise said on her left, "you've really made a pickle of things, haven't you Granger?"
Hermione looked at him, her heart contracting.
"For instance," Blaise said, a strange smile on his face, "I'd quite like to kiss you with triumph right now, like they are," he pointed to where Dean and Michael Corner were snogging wildly on top of a table, "but...do you want me to kiss you right now?"
Hermione opened her mouth. She did, and she didn't.
"That's what I thought," Blaise said bitterly, as Hermione said nothing, and he walked over to where Harry was being tossed in the air like he was in a mosh pit.
"I didn't say no," Hermione protested, but Blaise kept walking. She knew he had heard her. His back had straightened. But he didn't turn.
"It's really not the time for that," Hermione said, louder, irritated, "in case you haven't noticed, there's a bunch of dead bodies on the floor and-"
"Talking to yourself, Granger?" Estelle Black said as she wandered over.
"Well I'm the only one who likes me right now, see," Hermione said, but that was a lie. She hadn't liked herself in almost a year.
"I'm insulted," Estelle said, "after all we've been through together!"
Hermione turned, and then they were hugging, her eyes squeezed shut. Behind her closed eyelids, she saw Carina Zimmerman's dead body. Her eyes flew open.
Estelle pulled back, brushing off her uniform.
"So does that mean your pretty boyfriend is single, Granger?" she said, her eyes wandering to where Blaise was helping toss Harry in the air.
"No," Hermione said at once.
"Does this mean Phobos is single instead?" Estelle asked.
"Um…." Hermione's eyes darted over the hall, but she still didn't see any of the Malfoys.
"Does this mean Riddle is single?" Estelle said innocently.
"You can have him," Hermione said at once, and her friend who had been her enemy's grandmother laughed at her. But unlike when Pansy did it, Hermione knew it was a laugh of a friend.
Author Note: Well, the end of this story has been a long time coming, and...it's not over quite yet! Heh heh. ;) I had such horrible writer's block about this chapter that real talk, I didn't write a word of this story for so long I started two more 50,000 plus word stories (each! Over 100,000 words!) and wrote ANOTHER 50,000 words of an original novel and I STILL had writer's block about this one. Good news, is that my mojo finally came back, and I've been writing furiously for this story as well at long last. Thank you for all of your reviews! I appreciate them all, and I'm sad I can't express my thanks for the guest reviews through direct message like I do the other reviews so I will say it here! :)