The Devil in Me
Boy, You Was Battle Born
The chapter title comes from the song:
Battleborn by The Killers.
The grounds of Malfoy Manor were eerily silent when the second wave hit. This gave the Order and Army of the Phoenix the impression that they had succeeded – that the Death Eaters were none the wiser.
They snuck through the wards and crept towards the house under cover of darkness. It was after midnight now, and they probably expected to slaughter Death Eaters in their beds.
What they didn't expect was an ambush.
The ground shook, and they all froze, looking around for the source of the seismic shock. As it intensified, they backed away slightly and rightfully so because seconds later, a scar was torn through the ground.
Susan stepped forward, thrusting her hands towards the Aurors and throwing them all back.
Before they could fully recover, the other Death Eaters jumped out and immediately launched an attack on the light.
The sky was filled with flashes of light and the air with cries and shouts.
Harry and Gus stuck together and, as they often did, ended up duelling back to back.
Gus was attempting to take down Maggie Shacklebolt.
Harry was trying to deal with unfinished business by duelling Hestia who had, foolishly, come back.
All around them, duels and battles were ongoing. Some of them were personal, and others were just opportunistic, but Harry knew from the flashes of action he saw that his recruitment mission that year had well and truly paid off.
Bill and Samson were fighting together – using cascading curses like dominoes to knock out their opponents systematically.
Charlie and Felix flew above the grounds on Sarris and Lennox, which meant blasts of fire were conveniently raining down on the light when they got a bit too close to the manor house in the distance.
Tracey was fighting with her twin brothers, Icarus and Daedalus. They had a nice little routine going on – the boys flanked Tracey, one casting shield charms over them all and the other strengthening every spell Tracey cast before it could hit its target.
Neville was duelling in his unique, raw, wordless way. He was throwing powerful cutting curses without a word, covering himself and Ginny with shield charms with a thrust of his hands. Tom's lessons had paid off.
And Ginny, despite being underage, was a force to be reckoned with. She was fighting close to Neville, but Percy was intricately involved with what she was doing. She would duel with her brother, and then when needed, she would let Aideen out.
When Ginny's eyes were glowing hazel, Percy would cast a very particular shield charm that channelled the scream towards their opponent without hurting anyone else around them. When Ginny's eyes returned to their normal colour, he would drop the shield, and they would go back to fighting.
Fred and George were in wolf form, bounding around the grounds, avoiding any spells that were sent their way. Hermione was always nearby, always keeping an eye on them, but she was fighting too in her own way. She wasn't a duellist by nature, but she was smart, so she used smoke and mirror type spells to distract her opponents, allowing Fred and George to knock them down.
Harry's latest recruits were holding their own too. Susan didn't need any training to harness her magical power; she was doing just fine by herself. She had forced the ground to swallow up at least two Aurors so far as she had used the ivy growing on the house to strangle another. Whoever had said mother nature was a bitch had obviously seen one of Helga Hufflepuff's descendants in a fight.
Lisa and Michael were fighting together and doing a damn fine job of it too – Lisa was ruthless, and Michael was precise. It was quite something to see two Ravenclaws fight together; it was like watching a well-rehearsed dance routine.
And then there was Lydia Greengrass. Harry doubted that she was a Greengrass because he didn't see any of the typical air/ice magic he associated with Daphne and Astoria. But what he did see was raw power and black fire, something that had to have links with a particular wizarding family.
Gus shouted in rage, and this drew Harry's full attention back to the present. He threw a dark curse at Hestia and looked around for the source of Gus's anger. When he saw the person he was going after, Harry instantly knew why – Delia Davies, the woman who had murdered his wife.
With a slash of his wand and a hoarse yell of, "Avada Kedavra!" Gus had killed Maggie Shacklebolt, and then he ran towards Delia.
Harry cursed under his breath but looked back at Hestia. He knew he had to defeat her before he could help Gus.
However, as he looked at Hestia, something behind her caught his attention. Despite Harry's warnings, Lily had just run into the grounds, straight into a duel with Oliver Wood.
Biting back a curse, Harry angrily thrust his wand out towards Hestia and cried, "Confringo!"
The spell broke through her shield and blasted her to pieces, freeing Harry up to run after Gus or Lily.
There was a split-second moment when he looked around the grounds, trying to figure out what he should do amongst the carnage. Relatively close by, Tom was duelling Nymphadora Tonks, and he looked like he was about to win easily.
He caught Harry's eye, and Harry pointed at Lily.
Tom gave a slight nod as if to say that he was aware of her, so Harry jogged up to Gus, throwing stunning charms at anyone unfriendly on the way.
He was stopped by Megan Jones, a Hufflepuff girl in his year, who screamed at him, "You murdered my father!"
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to stun her, but before he could, he was disarmed from behind. He glanced over his shoulder at Sally-Anne Perks, another girl from his year at school.
"Not so brave now, are you chosen one?" Sally-Anne smirked.
Harry laughed, "Oh, that's cute. You think I need a wand to fight, huh?"
He raised a hand, and it began to glow, which made Sally-Anne and Megan's eyes widen in fear. They raised their wands and started to utter incantations, but before they could finish them, Harry had acted.
He twisted the glowing hand and threw a fireball at Sally-Anne incinerating the girl as she screamed in terror. Then he thrust out his other hand, not really knowing what was going to happen, and before he knew it, Megan had been impaled against a nearby tree by at least one of the icicles that had shot from Harry's wand.
Harry grabbed his wand and looked around. The commotion had brought Harry closer to Gus, who threw a look over his shoulder and said, "Never would have thought you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl, Harry."
"Yeah, I didn't either," Harry said, tagging in on Gus's duel.
"You did an Imbolc ritual with her," Gus said, throwing an indefensible cutting curse at Delia.
"How did you work that out?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Well, you couldn't shoot icicles out of your hand yesterday," Gus said, giving Harry a smirk and then throwing himself back into the duel with Delia.
Harry chuckled, true, he thought to himself as he covered Gus with a shield charm then cast a blasting charm towards Hubert – Delia's husband, who had just shown up to jump to her defence.
Gus and Harry duelled side by side silently for a few minutes. Delia goaded Gus by mentioning Johanna, "Do I have this right, Augustus," she said cruelly, "You loved a Smith girl and would have married her over Johanna Avery any day. But now that she's dead, you're going to fight to the death for her?"
"She was the mother of my children," Gus growled, taking a step towards Delia, "And my best friend!"
Harry saw the trap before Gus did. Delia was goading him closer because she had set up a proximity curse, intended to stop Gus's heart the minute he stepped into it.
Dropping his duel with Hubert, Harry grabbed Gus and pulled him back seconds before he could step over the shimmering purple threshold.
Somehow, in the commotion, Harry had fallen back in the firing line as Tom threw a killing curse across the grounds at Oliver Wood to defend Lily, who was beginning to struggle in her duel.
When he pulled Gus back, Harry had stepped right into that trajectory, and before he even had time to acknowledge this, let alone duck or dodge away from it, the green light had hit Harry square in the chest.
He was vaguely aware of a shout of "NO!" from next to him, then Harry's entire world went blank.
….
Across the grounds, Tom's eyes widened in disbelief. A spell flew towards him from Tonks, and he lifted a hand to defend against it, then conjured a magical rope around Tonks's neck that began to strangle her.
His duel abandoned, he stared across the grounds at Harry's body, at Gus, who was shaking the boy's lifeless form.
I did this.
The moment the thought flitted through his head, Tom felt a terrible pain in his chest.
I killed him.
The pain intensified, and he grabbed at his chest with a hiss.
He was the closest thing I have ever had to a son, and I killed him.
Tom fell to his knees as the pain intensified.
And I would give anything to undo it.
Lily had abandoned her duel with Oliver Wood and was running over to him, but he could barely focus through the pain – it was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
"Tom, Tom!" She was yelling, her voice hazy as it echoed through his head.
He felt something wet on his cheek, and then Lily's thumb brushed it away – a tear, a singular tear.
The pain in his chest was sorrow, regret.
Genuine remorse, Tom realised.
He gripped his wand tightly, his vision blurring because of the pain and the strain on his body.
When he began to chant the Latin words, Lily understood precisely what was happening. She gripped him tightly and kept him focused so that he could finish the incantation.
The moment the final word left his lips, Tom felt a pain worse than anything else. It blinded him and ripped an otherworldly scream from his lips.
Then in a heartbeat, his entire world went blank.
"I need to get him back to Peverell Court," Lily murmured desperately as she looked around.
A hand was placed on her shoulder, and Lily jumped until she looked up and realised that it was Pollux.
"I will help you," He promised, lifting Tom's body and giving her a nod.
Lily nodded back, and together, they dashed for the torn down gates where the anti-disapparition wards stopped working.
Daphne was pacing, wearing a hole in the floor of Peverell Court's beautiful drawing-room. She had Amalthea in her arms, and she was gently bouncing her as she walked, humming whatever lullabies popped in her head as her mind ran wild.
Her eyes kept going to the clock that had now ticked past 2 am. She had hoped they would have reported back to her now, but there had been no communication since just before midnight.
Daphne placed a sleeping Amalthea down in a basket in the corner of the room with a sigh, then she paced some more, stopping to stare into the fire when the clock struck 2.30 am.
It was then that she felt it – a sharp pain in her gut. With a gasp, Daphne doubled over in pain and then it felt like something was ripped from her chest. As suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone, leaving behind an empty, hollow feeling.
"No," Daphne said, pushing herself to her feet and shaking her head, "No, it can't be."
She ran to the window, her eyes on the path.
That couldn't have meant what she thought it did.
The Imbolc ritual had been done to save Harry's life so he couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible.
The wards dropped, and Daphne looked out hopefully as two figures made their way up the darkened path, holding someone up between them.
Daphne's heart leapt hopefully, and she ran to the door, only to feel her heart sink when she realised it was Lily, Tom and Pollux.
"Harry…" Daphne began to say.
Lily swallowed and shook her head.
Daphne's eyes widened, "No."
"It was the killing curse," Pollux said gently, "Even he cannot survive that twice."
It felt like Daphne's heart was being ripped out again, "No," she breathed, "He must have. He can't be dead!"
Lily managed to give her a sympathetic look, but she was worried about Tom, who she and Pollux carried past Daphne into the house.
She was vaguely aware of them instructing a house-elf to take him to his bedroom and call a Healer from St Mungo's as Daphne stood in the doorway, gripping it for support as the horrible news sunk in.
Harry was dead.
A cry of pain sounded behind Daphne. Then Lily fell to her knees, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
It shook Daphne and forced her into action. She knelt by Lily's side and cast a diagnostic charm, "She's bleeding internally. Was she hurt?"
"Yes – but it was hours ago, in the initial stage of the battle," Pollux replied.
Daphne pulled at Lily's shirt and saw the wound caused by the earlier Sectumsempra that Snape had cast on her. Her skin was mottled and purple.
"Oh, Merlin, no," Daphne breathed, "Her spleen is ruptured, and maybe a kidney. Pollux, get a qualified Healer now, or we're going to lose her as well!"
Harry knew he was dead from the moment he opened his eyes. He was in Kings Cross station, but everything was white and eerily silent and empty.
All Harry could hear was the sound of his breathing, then he held his breath for a moment and listened, but he heard nothing.
"No heartbeat," He murmured, looking around the fog-filled platform, "I'm dead."
"Yes, you are. Well deduced though, you humans do have rather the talent for stating the obvious."
Harry looked up and squinted through the fog as a middle-aged man stepped into view. He was nondescript; everything from his hair to his eyes was ordinary. He was the sort of person you wouldn't notice in a crowd, whose voice you would hear inciting a riot, but who you would never identify.
The sort of person who Harry knew in five minutes, he wouldn't be able to recall. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone what colour his hair had been or his eyes had been. He would just be a faceless man in his memory.
"Who are you?"
The man smiled, "I have many names, but for simplicity, you may call me Death."
Harry frowned, "Like in the Tale of the Three Brothers?"
"Hm, one and the same, yes," Death replied, "And you have been just as troublesome as your ancestor, Ignotus, let me tell you."
Harry didn't understand that comment, so he looked around instead, "Why are we in Kings Cross?"
"Ah, only you can answer that question, Harry," Death said, seemingly bored, "This place is different for every soul who passes through it. Some people may board a boat or get in a car to pass onto the next plane of existence. Others walk through archways; some take broomsticks but evidently, you want to board a train."
The Hogwarts Express pulled up to the platform through the fog, and Harry's frown deepened.
"So that train will take me to heaven?"
"Heaven, rather simplistic concept, better to merely say that you shall continue onward," Death replied, "If you choose to board it, that is."
"I have a choice?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Yes. Do you remember what I said about you being troublesome? Death asked, waving a hand absentmindedly, "Because you died for the man who you were destined to defeat, it changes things."
The prophecy buzzed in Harry's head for a moment – neither can live while the other survives.
"Exactly," Death said calmly.
"Because you were killed by Lord Voldemort's hand, accidentally yes, but still willingly while you saved Mr Rookwood, that part is key – he succeeded only in killing the part of himself inside you," Death explained.
Death motioned to something behind Harry, and when he turned around, he saw a small baby like creature cowering and whimpering under a bench on the platform.
"Is that…"
"The piece of soul that resided in you?" Death asked, "Yes."
"What will happen to it?" Harry asked, looking over at Death.
"It will be condemned to purgatory, along with the other pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul that have perished," Death replied.
Harry felt sorry for it and Tom. But before he had time to contemplate that much more, both he and Death were distracted by an otherworldly scream.
They both spun around to look at the source, but where the baby like creature had been seconds earlier, a terrified looking five-year-old Tom Riddle stood.
Harry opened his mouth to ask Death if that was supposed to happen when a ray of blinding white light scooped the child up and sucked it out of the white, silent space.
"What…" Harry said, open-mouthed, "What the hell just happened?"
Death's eyebrows were knitted together tightly, "Something I have not seen in at least a thousand years."
"What?" Harry asked, a little more urgently.
Death looked Harry in the eye, "It seems Thomas Riddle is capable of surprising even me. He has experienced a moment of genuine remorse; the pieces of his soul are being pulled back into his body as we speak."
Harry's eyes widened, "What…why? How?"
Death frowned and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he cocked his head at Harry, "You."
"Me?"
"You really are rather dim at times, aren't you, Harry? Seeing you die by his hand," Death elaborated, "That was what triggered his moment of humanity. I do wonder if he will be strong enough to survive what is to come."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked anxiously, "What's going to happen to him now?"
"His soul will not magically glue itself back together just because all of the pieces are in the same vessel," Death said thoughtfully, "If he truly wishes to redeem himself, Mr Riddle will have to prove he feels remorse for every sacrifice he made to split his soul."
"Everyone he killed to make his Horcruxes," Harry clarified.
"Indeed," Death said. He looked up at Harry with interest, "Well, this could be an interesting show to watch play out. Will you be boarding a train or returning to watch the said show?"
"I'm not going on that train," Harry said quickly, "Send me back. Send me back, right now!"
"As you wish, do try and avoid messing things up for a while. It really is rather irritating spending ones time clearing up your messes," Death said, clicking his fingers.
Gus sighed and leant back against the stone wall. He knew he should have helped pick up the pieces, but he couldn't bring himself to move.
Reyna was safe; she was working up in the hospital wing with Narcissa, Caroline Sumner and Lydia Greengrass.
And Merlin knew they were needed there. The battle had been bloody and brutal, and although they had outnumbered the light by ten men, they had suffered heavily.
Those who were still alive and in one piece were tagging bodies, and Gus was sitting with his hipflask watching them do it. The light side was finished – they had been killed or fled.
Gus sighed and looked down at Harry, "You stupid, stupid, kid," he said, rubbing his eyes to hide the tears that threatened to fall, "I'm an old man with no goddamn life ahead of me and you, you were going to be the next best thing, the next hotshot Unspeakable. You had your whole life ahead of you."
He shook his head and took a gulp from his hipflask, "You stupid kid," he said, his voice hoarse.
Gus rested his head against the cold stone wall and watched Fitz put a black tag over Oberon Parkinson's body. Then he got the fright of his life when Harry gasped and sat up bolt upright.
Gus scrambled to his feet in disbelief, "What the fucking calamity?!"
Harry stared ahead wide-eyed, then looked up at Gus.
"You were dead!" Gus exclaimed, "You didn't have a pulse; you were fucking blue!"
Harry rubbed his head – man, it throbbed, and he had a sharp, shooting pain in his chest. He frowned and lifted his shirt, looking down at an 'X' across over his chest where the killing curse had hit him.
"Yeah," Harry said shakily, "I was dead. I was in limbo, which was a train station, for some reason."
Gus looked at Harry warily.
Harry frowned, "I had this conversation with Death, who by the way is a sarcastic bastard, and then he gave me a choice – board a train onto the next plane of existence or come back."
"Death….gave you…a choice?" Gus asked slowly.
"Yeah, it's complicated. It's because of the Horcruxes. When Tom killed me, because I was saving your life at the time and therefore willing, he killed the piece of himself inside me," Harry said with a wave of his hand.
Gus nodded. To anyone else, Harry figured that wouldn't make much sense, but Gus seemed to understand it straight away.
He reached out his hand, and Harry took it.
Gus gripped Harry's hand tightly and pulled him onto his feet, straight into a tight bear hug, "Thank Merlin, kid," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the tears that fell.
He patted Harry on the back a little too hard, "Thank Merlin," he said again.
Harry drew back and smiled weakly at Gus, "What happened to Tom?"
"I don't know for sure," Gus answered, "He fell, in a lot of pain and then Lily and Pollux whisked him away."
"To Peverell Court," Harry said, pulling away from Gus.
"Hey, where are you going?" Gus asked.
"I need to go to Peverell Court," Harry said, "Tom tried to put his soul back together. That was why he was in pain."
"Well then, chances are he's already dead," Gus said practically, "And you need to stay here. With the Dark Lord gone, people are going to look to his second in command – you, the boy who just survived death again."
Harry swallowed. He didn't like it, but he knew that Gus was right.
"How bad is it?" He asked, looking around the grounds.
"Pretty bad," Gus replied, "We lost a few good guys tonight."
"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes falling on Oberon Parkinson's body, then scouring the grounds for any others. His heart sank when he saw Remus's
"Yeah," Gus sighed, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "He died, protecting Lydia Greengrass. She's pretty cut up about it, but she's still helping out in the hospital wing. They need her. It's chaos up there."
"Come on then," Harry said, trudging heavily towards the half-destroyed manor.
"We've lined the dead up in the great hall," Gus said, nudging his head in that direction, "That's who we've found so far, from our side anyway."
"What are we doing with the others?" Harry asked.
"Putting their bodies outside the wards so their family or friends can retrieve them," Gus replied.
Harry nodded, "Good…"
He cast his eyes over the dead and recognised every face – the hardest one was Lisa Turpin's.
"She was so young," Harry said as a stabbing pain shot through his chest once more, "She had her whole life ahead of her."
"Yeah," Gus said, a heavy sigh leaving his body.
"We found Crabbe and Goyle slumped back to back. They died fighting together," Gus said.
Harry scanned their bodies and looked at the others – Osiris Zabini lay in the hall. He looked at peace, even in death.
Another body was that of Alfred Nott – another pureblood line had come to an end with him. The final body was Terry Higgs – another Death Eater that Harry had met as soon as he was allowed out of his bedroom prison.
Harry couldn't take anymore, so he shook his head and began to trudge up the destroyed staircase to the second floor. Portraits had been blasted off walls or damaged, so they had to pick their way over smashed objects or fallen masonry.
Gus had been right about the hospital wing – Harry heard the chaos before he saw it. Screams, shouts, cries, and the sound of footsteps overwhelmed his senses.
When he stepped into the hospital wing, Harry had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat – everywhere he looked, he saw blood, and he could smell it in the air, the stench of decay and death.
"Harry!"
Harry knew Hermione's voice, but it took him a minute to pick her out in the busy room. She didn't seem to be hurt beyond the odd scrape on her face, but she smiled radiantly when she saw him.
"Thank Merlin; you're alive!"
Harry smiled as she threw herself at him, and although it hurt, he didn't let it show. Instead, Harry wrapped his arms around her and murmured, "Thank you."
"We're fine too," Fred said, popping up behind Harry.
"Yeah, thanks for asking," George added.
Hermione let go of Harry and pulled the twins into a hug, "Did you find Remus's body?"
"Yeah," Fred said darkly, "Where he fell, more or less. We put him with the others in the hall, figured Lydia would want to pay her respects before she heads home."
"I don't know when she'll get home, at this rate," George said, looking at the mess that was the hospital wing.
Harry nodded, "We took a big hit, but we won."
"And you came back from the dead, somehow," Fred said.
"How?" Hermione asked.
"I dunno, honestly," Harry lied, patting Hermione on the shoulder and pushing himself through the crowd to assess the damage.
He spotted Lydia tending to Azriel Gibbon, and from the look on her face, he was in a bad way. Harry wove his way over to her and patted her on the shoulder.
Lydia jumped then looked up at him, blearily, "Harry! I thought you were…?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said offhandedly, "How's Azriel?"
"Not great," Lydia replied, "He was hit in the legs with a blasting curse. Narcissa and I have re-attached his legs, but we don't think we can repair the nerve damage, so it doesn't seem likely that he will ever walk again."
Harry shook his head angrily, "He has three kids."
"I know," Lydia said, rubbing her eyes.
"You look exhausted," Harry noted.
"I am, but I can't leave," Lydia said, "Not with all of this suffering around me."
"What about Rhea?"
"I want to hold her more than anything else," Lydia said tearfully, "But she will have to wait a little longer for me."
Harry smiled slightly, "That unbreakable spirit is why I like Greengrass's so much," he admitted.
"Enough to marry one," Lydia mused.
"Enough to fall in love with one, actually," Harry said offhandedly.
He missed the surprised look that passed across Lydia's face upon those words.
"Where is Daphne?"
"She's fine," Harry replied, "I sent her to Peverell Court to look after Amalthea."
"Do you not think you should go and tell her that you're alive, then?" Lydia asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
"Well, she won't know that I died. Will she?" Harry asked.
"Maybe, maybe not," Lydia shrugged, "That depends on the depth of your connection. I knew when Lee died."
Harry looked up, "What? When did he die?"
"Earlier, in the first phase of the battle," Lydia replied.
She sighed and lifted her t-shirt. Underneath a long thin scar that marked the place where a Healer had crudely cut into her to save both her and Rhea's life during a difficult labour was a tattoo. It was of a raven and a lion, both standing guard over a crib – it was a family portrait of sorts, but over the lion, a cross hung.
"Magical tattoo," Harry realised.
"Linked to our life force," Lydia said, dropping her t-shirt, "I left him, I took Rhea and left him, and he died."
"It's not your fault, Lydia," Harry said, looking up at her, "And you shouldn't feel guilty for it either, but if you do, it's perfectly natural. It's called survivors guilt."
Lydia shook her head, "I'm fine," she lied, then she frowned at something behind Harry, "But you might not be in a minute."
Harry frowned and spun around, instantly seeing what she meant as Daphne flew towards him.
"You're alive!"
Harry smiled slightly, "Yeah, I'm fine-"
"I felt you die!" Daphne exclaimed, "And now I find you here, having a fucking tea break with my sister? How long have you been alive for?"
"I don't know, not long-" Harry began to say.
"Not long? The first thing you should have done was send me a Patronus!"
"I wanted to go to Peverell Court, but Gus didn't let me," Harry cut in, "Apparently, I'm in charge in Tom's absence."
"That doesn't affect your ability to send me a Patronus," Daphne retorted.
"Because when you feel someone's life force get ripped from your chest, and then not even an hour later, suddenly somehow its back again, it would be nice if that someone gave you answers!"
Harry sighed and nodded, "You're right. I'm sorry – I was an idiot. I might have a minor head injury, though, in my defence. And also, I seem to remember telling you not to come back here-"
Daphne cut in, "Shut up, stop it!" she snapped.
Harry shut his mouth, and Daphne stepped towards him, her hand instantly cupping his cheek, "Can you just give me a minute to appreciate that you're not dead before you start telling me off for disobeying you?"
"Okay, but I've got a lot to do, so I'll give you ten seconds. Nine – eight – seven – six-"
Daphne cut him off but kissing him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him tightly towards her. Despite everything else – the exhaustion, the weight of the fact he was now in charge, Harry returned the kiss, pouring everything he had into it and then drawing back to tell her breathily.
"I love you."
"I love you too, you idiot," Daphne returned.
Harry sighed and rested his forehead against hers, "How is Tom?"
"Nobody knows," Daphne replied, drawing back slightly, "He's fine, physically, but he seems to be in a coma. Lily is going to be okay, but she just had to have emergency surgery to save her life, and I think the Healer said it might affect her chances of having children in the future."
"What do you mean? She was fine! I healed her," Harry said anxiously.
"I know you did." Daphne said softly, "It wasn't your fault. She fought before she had a Healer take a proper look at her which meant that she bled internally."
Harry's eyes widened.
"But she's going to be okay," Daphne promised, her voice soft and soothing – god, it was music to his ears.
Harry nodded, and his world began to blur.
"Harry, are you okay?" Daphne asked.
"M'fine," Harry replied hazily, "I just wasn't entirely joking about that head injury thing, and I do feel kinda…dizzy."
"Have you had anyone look at that cut on your head yet?" Daphne asked anxiously.
"Huh?" Harry asked stupidly before his world went black once more.
* TBC *