When Harry came to, it was light outside, and he was aware of a quiet, whispered conversation happening nearby. Although his mind was awake, his body was struggling to catch up, so he was aware of what was going on and aware of a hand in his own, a familiar soft hand he knew to be Daphne's.
"I know we got off on the wrong foot," Reyna's voice said, "But I kind of thought you were a stone-cold bitch."
"I kind of was a stone-cold bitch," Daphne confessed, "And I definitely acted like a pampered princess. I can see why Harry defended you now. You're a great witch."
He heard a smile in Reyna's voice, "Thanks."
"But I kind of thought you were a whore when we first met," Daphne added.
"I kind of was a whore," Reyna said, echoing Daphne's earlier statement, "I'm trying to change, though."
"Well, as my great-grandfather always said," Daphne mused, "An admiral is still called an admiral years after he gives up the sea."
Reyna snorted, "I take it back. You are a stone-cold bitch."
Daphne chuckled, and Harry smiled as he pried his eyes open.
After a couple of blinks, the two girls came into focus. Behind them, sitting in an armchair by the fire, was Gus. He was half-awake, obviously dozing, but concerned enough to remain in the room.
Harry wasn't sure where he was for a moment, but everything about the place seemed familiar, from its scent to its feel.
"You're in your room at Malfoy Manor," Daphne said, "We brought you back here when you passed out. It was busy, so we thought it best to keep you away from the hospital wing."
Harry grimaced as his head pounded, "Yeah," he said, pushing himself up in his bed, "Why the welcome committee then if I'm not on death's door?"
"We were worried about you," Reyna said simply.
Daphne added, "You did literally die last night, after all."
Reyna pressed a hand against Harry's forehead, "I would have thought Death might have healed you before sending you back."
"I know, what a bastard," Harry joked half-heartedly.
Reyna gave him a long-suffering look, "Just like I thought my father would have had enough sense to send you to go and get checked up. On account of you just coming back from the dead. But instead, he decided to remind you that you were in charge and drop the woes of the bloody wizarding world on your shoulders."
"Yes, we had words about that while you were sleeping," Daphne said, shooting an irritated look Gus's way.
Gus did look rather sheepish, but he didn't say anything to defend himself.
Daphne turned back to Harry, "You were hallucinating while you sweated out the fever last night. You said all sorts of things."
"Hm," Harry sighed, shutting his eyes against the bright light streaming through the window, "About you?"
"Yes, amongst other things," Daphne replied, an edge to her voice that Harry couldn't quite pinpoint.
Harry forced his eyes open, "Most of my nightmares centre around losing you these days."
"By Merlin guys, could you two get any more cliché if you tried?" Reyna asked with a shake of her head.
Harry chuckled weakly as Gus approached his bed, "Or any more in trouble. I hate to do that 'Dad' thing and say I'm not angry with you; I'm just disappointed. But I saw your future wife use elemental magic that she should never have been capable of last night, regardless of how powerful her bloodline is, and you know the moment I worked it out for sure, Harry."
"Would that have been when I accidentally impaled Megan Jones with some rather convenient icicles?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Correct," Gus replied.
"You used ice magic last night?" Daphne asked in surprise.
Harry nodded, "Yeah, I have no idea how. It just kind of happened."
Gus looked between the two of them, "I shouldn't have to lecture you two on the fact that the ritual you did should only be done between married couples on account of the fact contraception charms do not work while it takes place."
Reyna shook her head in disbelief, "This is so embarrassing. I feel like I've gone back in time to the day you gave Naomi and me the sex talk after you got out of Azkaban when you knew we'd both already had sex anyway."
"Don't talk back to me, young lady," Gus warned.
"Dad, you sound so old," Reyna muttered under her breath.
Harry chuckled, "Look – yes, we did indulge in slightly controversial ritualistic magic, but if we hadn't done it, I'm not so sure that we would both be here right now."
Gus crossed his arms, "I know, but, just so you know, if either of my daughters had done what you two did, I would be furious enough to curse them and lock them in their rooms for a month. Still, I can also acknowledge that if it wasn't for Daphne and what she did last night, I don't think Reyna, Naomi and I would have escaped Rookwood Hall unharmed."
Harry nodded, his eyes meeting Daphne's, "You were right. What you said about it not being conventional but necessary in the middle of a war. I had a lot of close calls last night, and it wasn't for my, basically, super-charged magic. I think one of them might have gotten the better of me."
"One of them did," Reyna pointed out.
Harry nodded.
"Yet here you are – so you going to explain that one to us, Jesus?" Reyna asked sarcastically.
"Not yet," Harry answered, "Because it's not entirely my story to tell, but one day, I think I'll tell you."
Reyna raised an eyebrow at him but didn't push.
Daphne sighed and prodded Harry irritably, "An infected head wound almost got the better of you because of how stubborn you are."
"You literally survived death and then nearly died again an hour later because you're a stubborn idiot," Reyna agreed.
"Yeah, and other people have had worse," Harry said, his head was spinning, "Reyna, have you got an anti-nausea potion? And a pain relief one? I'll knock a couple of them back, and I'll be fine."
"Harry, I don't think-"
"Just give him what he's asking for," Gus cut in, looking his daughter in the eye, "He needs to keep busy, and that's just fine."
Reyna sighed and rummaged in a medical bag. Then she gave Harry two vials of potion, which he knocked back. The anti-nausea one kicked in straight away, and the pain potion had a gradual effect, but it was enough for him to push himself to his feet.
Harry took Daphne's hand, gently pulling her from the room with a final, "Thank you for healing me, Reyna," to his friend.
Reyna didn't seem bitter anymore. Instead, she smiled and said, "You're welcome, Harry."
In the corridor outside, Daphne asked, "What now?"
"I need to check up on people in the hospital wing," Harry said, his head reeling, "Check the final death count in the great hall. Then I have to go to Peverell Court and find out how Tom is. After that, I can focus on taking charge of the situation."
Daphne frowned, "You mean…?"
"I'm his second in command, Daphne," Harry said softly, "I need to deal with the fall out of this."
Daphne's eyes widened in realisation, but she nodded as they headed towards the hospital wing.
It was then that Harry asked Daphne, "What happened between you and Reyna last night?"
Daphne shrugged, "Well, I fought with her at Rookwood Hall. I guess when you put up a shield of ice to protect a girl from her ex-boyfriend, all past arguments kind of fly out of the window."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Her ex-boyfriend?"
"Roger Davies, he threw a pretty nasty cutting curse at her. It couldn't cut through a small glacier though," Daphne said, with a half-smile, "Her mother was dead before I got there. I think it must have happened in the initial shock of the attack. Did you say that you were able to use elemental magic last night too?"
"Yes, and it just felt-"
" – effortless," They said together.
Their eyes locked, and Harry leant down to press a brief kiss against her lips, "Thank you. I know it was risky, but since it saved lives last night, I'll take that, and we'll deal with any consequences as we need to."
Daphne nodded, her hand tightening in his own.
"What else happened last night at Rookwood Hall?"
"Gus killed both of Reyna's ex-boyfriends," Daphne said, her eyes on the door up ahead, "Roger deserved it to be fair. After I shielded Reyna, Gus took him out with a piercing charm. Then he killed the Auror, Eddie Lamb? Which I'm pretty sure he did just because he was Reyna's ex."
"I wouldn't put it past him," Harry admitted.
Daphne bit her lip.
"What else happened, Daphne?" Harry asked. While he wasn't the most naturally perceptive person, he was where she was concerned.
"Lee is dead," Daphne said quietly as they walked into the hospital wing together.
"Lydia knows," Harry said, "And she's feeling pretty guilty over it. She's also not seen her kid since this whole thing kicked off, and it's what time now?"
Daphne glanced at her watch, "3 pm."
"It's been nearly 24 hours since she went home," Harry said, his eyes on Lydia, "You need to talk to her, and I need to try and convince Narcissa to sleep."
Daphne looked across the hospital wing at Lydia – she was leaning against a pillar, staring out of the window. She could see the tell-tale signs of a breakdown in her sister's eyes, so she crossed the room and pulled her into a hug.
As Lydia sobbed softly on Daphne's shoulder, Harry murmured, "Take her home. She needs to see her kid."
"You'll be okay?" Daphne asked.
"I'll be fine," Harry promised.
Daphne ushered Lydia out of the hospital wing, and Harry stepped forward, "You need sleep, Narcissa."
Narcissa shook her head, "No, I do not. To sleep, I have to stop, and if I stop, I will think about him, and if I think about him – I will break."
Harry sighed, "Have you stopped at all yet?"
"No, and I do not want to," Narcissa said, an edge to her voice that he didn't usually hear.
"I know you don't want to stop, and I understand why, but Draco is going to need you," Harry said softly, "He's going to need you in one piece, and if you run yourself into the ground…"
Narcissa looked over at her son, and Harry swore he could see her heartbreaking.
"Take a sleeping draught and rest," Harry said, "Because you need it and trust me, the longer you leave it, the worse it is. The nightmares, they will always come. The sooner you face them, the better."
"I am needed here," Narcissa argued.
Right on time, Reyna stepped into the room, and Caroline was already there.
"Yes, but you won't be any good to anyone unless you take a break," Harry said pointedly, "Between us, we're going to shift those who need it most to St Mungo's and keep those with minor injuries here, so give us a briefing then rest for a few hours."
Narcissa looked at Harry for a long moment, then sighed and rose to her feet. Despite being run-down and defeated, she put on her best professional mask.
"Corban Yaxley – 53 years old – Yellow tagged - Third-degree burn inflicted with magical fire, the wound needs cleaned and rubbed with dittany every hour, an alarm at the end of his bed will alert you when it's time."
Harry nodded. He knew about the tagging system that Healers used – yellow for those who needed treatment but could stay where they were. Green for those whose injuries were minor enough that they could wait for treatment. Red for those whose injuries were life-altering and required more permanent care. White for those who were cleared to leave under supervision and with treatment/potions.
"Antonin Dolohov – 49 years old – Yellow tagged -Laceration to the face caused by a cutting curse. It requires irrigation hourly, and his pain potions must be topped up at the same time. Keep him in a magical sleep until I say otherwise."
Reyna and Caroline were both listening and mentally catalogued everything that she was saying.
"Andromeda Tonks – 45 years old – Yellow tagged because she cannot be moved - Broken spine. She is being held in suspension while a slow-acting form of "skele-gro" performs its task. She must not be moved or touched until it is done, and that will take at least another four hours. When the alarm rings to notify you that it has finished, call me immediately."
Reyna nodded, "Of course, Lady Malfoy."
Narcissa swallowed and closed her eyes briefly, and then she carried on. Her eyes fell on her son's bed. Sadie was asleep in a chair next to him, her legs pulled up underneath her and her mouth open slightly.
"Draco Malfoy – 17 years old," Narcissa's breath caught, but she continued, "Yellow tagged - Masonry shrapnel to the eye. All fragments have been removed and the surface of his eye repaired, but he will require monitoring, and the eye will need frequent irrigation to stop it from drying out."
Reyna nodded, "Got it."
"Azriel Gibbon – 27 years old – Red tagged – Suffered a blasting curse to the legs. They were re-attached, and the broken bones need to be regrown once the wounds have healed. The nerve damage was not repairable, and he will remain paralysed below the upper thigh. He requires hospitalisation, and his wife needs to be informed."
Harry sighed but nodded.
"Samson Weasley – 28 years old – Red tagged – He was hit in the face with a burning charm and lost his eye. The wound is clean and dry, but he requires hospitalisation to have a false eye fitted."
With every Death Eater, Harry saw suffering, he felt worse, but he tried not to let it show.
"Michael Corner – 17 years old – Red tagged – He lost his wand hand in a duel; it was severed with a dark curse which meant that it could not be re-attached. The wound has been cleaned and dried, the bleeding has been stemmed, but he requires further treatment at a hospital."
"Okay," Harry said with a final nod, "Get some rest, Narcissa," he added, ushering her out of the hospital wing.
Narcissa left willingly, but Harry suspected that she, like he had been until his head injury forced him to pass out, was in something of a daze.
"Reckon you can manage all that?" Harry asked the two girls.
Caroline nodded, "We'll arrange safe transport and get everyone who needs it to St Mungo's. Then we'll inform their next of kin."
Harry nodded gratefully, "Thanks girls, I owe you."
"Harry," Reyna called before Harry could dash away.
Harry spun around, "Yeah?"
"Send me a Patronus or something to let me know that Lily is okay," Reyna said, appearing more vulnerable than usual for a moment.
"Of course I will," Harry promised, slipping out of the hospital wing and letting the two girls manage the situation.
Lydia and Daphne stepped into Crouch House hand in hand and were surprised by how quiet it was. They ducked their heads into the lounge, and both smiled at the sight before them.
Rhea was fast asleep in the middle of the floor, caged in with a child-safe shield charm and surrounded by cushions. On the two sofa's in the room, Fred and George lay, snoring softly.
"Who tired who out?" Daphne asked with an amused whisper.
Lydia smiled and removed the shield charm with a flick of her wrist. She scooped Rhea up, and the little girl snuggled instinctively into her mother's chest.
Daphne watched as Lydia physically relaxed, running her finger down Rhea's cheek and playing with one of her dark brown curls.
They left the lounge to let the Weasley brothers sleep, and on their way upstairs, they noticed that a bedroom door was ajar. The sisters peered inside and smiled when they saw Hermione sitting by Julian's bed, reading him an excerpt from his favourite wizarding book. He was obviously awake from the slight smile on his face, but his eyes were closed.
They left them be, not wanting to disturb the moment, and they didn't talk until they slipped into the quiet, cosy upstairs lounge.
It was at this point that Rhea opened her eyes sleepily and reached out a chubby little hand towards Daphne.
"Ma-Ma."
Lydia chuckled and said, "No, baba. I know she looks like me, but that's Aunt Daphne."
Daphne swallowed a lump in her throat as the little girl looked from her to Lydia, "Ma-ma!"
"Hey baba," Lydia said softly, kissing her daughter on the forehead, "I missed you, oh Merlin, I missed you."
She held her daughter tightly, then Rhea wriggled to get down, so Lydia popped her down on her feet, and Daphne couldn't help it; she gasped.
"She's walking?"
Lydia looked over in surprise, "Yeah, she turned one in December, Daph."
The tears in Daphne's eyes threatened to spill as she looked from the adorable little girl to Lydia, "I missed so much," she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Lydia."
Lydia smiled sadly, "I'm not going to lie and say that it didn't hurt because it did. But we have a chance to fix things, to do it right. It's not too late for us like it almost was for Andromeda and Narcissa."
Daphne swallowed hard.
"It wasn't your fault, Daphne," Lydia said, "You were just being a good girl and doing what Father wanted like you always do."
Daphne laughed tearfully, "Like I always do? Merlin Lydia, if you knew what I did last night…."
"Well, judging from the fact that last night was Imbolc and you have a fiancé who is obviously devoted to you," Lydia said, her eyes on her little sister, "I'll hazard a guess you did a ritual."
Daphne bit her lip, "Not a ritual, the ritual."
Lydia's eyes widened, "You have got to be kidding me. And was it…you know…?"
"Yes," Daphne said, casting her gaze downwards, "The ritual was as powerful as it could have been."
"You know the risks," Lydia said, her tone a little more disapproving now.
"Of course I know the risks; I'm not stupid," Daphne said.
"So you know how this could end," Lydia said darkly, "What if he gets bored of you and moves onto someone else, huh? The boy has a track record. You've magically bonded with him, you've given something very special to him, and if he doesn't marry you now, you're ruined, Daphne. You'll be doomed to be a spinster; no one will touch you."
"Lydia, I know the consequences. But I also know Harry, and he will marry me, I'm sure of it," Daphne said.
The conviction in her eyes was almost enough to convince Lydia.
"And if you get pregnant?"
"We'll manage it," Daphne said simply.
"You'll manage it," Lydia laughed, "Yeah, like Lee and I managed it, you mean? Like Mother and Father managed it?"
"Mother and Father did manage it," Daphne said firmly, "They are as strong as ever, despite the difficult start to their marriage."
"Difficult start," Lydia said with a shake of her head, "What you mean the fact she got married the minute she left school while she was six months pregnant with me? And then I married Lee while I was five months pregnant with Rhea, straight out of Hogwarts? Are you trying to make it a family trend, Daphne?"
"No, I was trying to make sure that Harry and I survived this war and given last night? I think I was right to do so," Daphne snapped, her calm composure finally breaking.
"Fine," Lydia sighed, "I understand, but I don't want to see you get hurt. I don't want to see Father do the same thing to you that he did to me."
Daphne laughed tearfully, "I don't think Harry would let him to be fair."
Lydia smiled too, "You love him, don't you?"
Daphne nodded, a stray tear or two falling, "I do, and what we did last night? It was all my idea, and I don't regret it, Lydia. I would make the same decision again, knowing the circumstances."
Lydia sighed and pulled her into a hug, "Oh, Daph, I'm sorry. Of course, you would."
Daphne's body shook a little in her sister's arms, and Lydia could tell.
"You don't have to be the ice queen with me, honey," Lydia murmured, "You can just be my baby sister."
And that was all Daphne needed to let the tears spill out.
When Harry walked through the gates, and Peverell Court materialised, he paused. Despite its new name, it was still the Riddle House to him. It was where's Toms path towards Lord Voldemort had started, really.
When he was sixteen, the murder of his father and grandparents had put him on the path to immortality and notoriety. He had killed Myrtle not long after and used her death to create his first Horcrux, after all.
And now, he might well meet his own fate in the same house. It was poetic, Harry supposed, but he knew he had to do whatever he could to stop Tom's soul from ripping him apart.
Harry walked up the short path and placed his hand on the grand wooden door. It recognised him and swung open straight away, so Harry stepped into Peverell Court and paused again - it was deadly quiet. Tom didn't trust anyone, not even house elves, so the ones they employed did not live on the premises.
He glanced into the drawing-room, which was empty. Then he checked the cavernous, grand kitchen, which was also empty. There was nobody in either of the small reception rooms either, so Harry climbed the stairs and came face to face with someone on the landing.
"Harry!" Pollux exclaimed, somewhere between shocked and scared.
Harry managed a half-smile, "Hey Pollux. How are they?"
Pollux did not answer the question immediately. He frowned and cast a diagnostic charm over Harry, then met his eye, confusion swimming there, "I saw the killing curse hit you, Harry."
"It did hit me," Harry agreed, "And I did die. But then I spoke to Death, and he brought me back."
"That is not possible," Pollux said quietly.
"It is," Harry assured him, "Because Tom killed me, it enforced the prophecy – neither can live while the other survives."
Pollux's eyes widened, "When he killed you, he killed the part of himself inside you."
Harry nodded, "Then drew all the pieces back into his body."
"Indeed," Pollux said darkly, "He is…not in a good place, Harry."
"And Lily?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Still knocked out, as per the Healers instructions," Pollux replied, "But she should awake soon. When she does, she must stay in bed until she is recovered."
"If need be, we can move her into Tom's room," Harry said with a wave of his hand, "That won't be a problem, but I need to see Tom-"
"There are a team of Healers in there, led by William Weasley's skilful wife," Pollux said, raising a hand, "Let them work, and when they are done, you may see him."
Harry sighed. He understood, even if he didn't like it, "Alright. Until then, I'll be with Lily."
Pollux nodded, so Harry slipped into Lily's room and sat down by her bed. He lifted her shirt to look at the damage and saw several bandages on her chest and stomach.
With a sigh - a heavy, guilty one, he took her hand and rested his head on the edge of her bed.
"Wasn't your fault, y'know?"
Harry looked up when he heard her sluggish voice.
"It was," He said, pushing her hair out of her face, "I didn't heal you properly. I couldn't; I'm not competent enough with the spell."
Lily shook her head and squeezed his hand, "No, you did fine. I shouldn't have fought until I was healed like you said."
Harry looked at her, anger shining in his eyes, "We could have lost you, Lily. Do you realise that?"
"I wish I had died," Lily said miserably, "Because Tom is going to."
"Not necessarily," Harry said, "When I died, I spoke to Death-"
"Yeah, hold on," Lily said, frowning and sitting up a little. She seemed more alert now than she had when she woke up, "You died!"
"Yeah, well, it didn't stick," Harry said offhandedly.
Lily's frown deepened, "How?"
"Tom killed me, which enacted the prophecy that was written about us. He killed the part of his soul inside me, but I came back. I had a choice, I could have 'moved on' as it were, but I didn't want to," Harry explained.
Lily nodded. Despite her ordeal, she seemed to be following him.
"While Death and I were discussing this, there was this strange baby-like creature which represented the part of Tom's soul in me," Harry continued, "There was a shriek, and it morphed into a five-year-old Tom then a ray of light came down and sucked it up with this otherworldly scream."
"That was when Tom finished the spell," Lily said, "He was obviously in excruciating pain, then he passed out, so we brought him here. Has he woken up yet?"
Harry shook his head, "No – there are a team of Healers in there with him right now, but Lily, he won't wake up until he has truly repented for what he has done."
Lily's eyes widened, "Harry, you can't mean what I think you do."
Harry met her eye, a dark look in his own, "That's exactly what I mean. For his soul to knit back together, he needs to feel remorse for the death of every person he killed to split it up in the first place."
"And there's nothing we can do to help him?" Lily asked, her voice small and quiet.
Harry shook his head, "This is something he needs to do on his own, Lily."
With those fateful words, a cry filled the room from above.
Lily sighed, "Amalthea's nursery," she said as she moved to get up.
"No," Harry said sternly, "You nearly died last night, twice. You need to stay in bed, or those wounds are going to rip open."
"You did die last night," Lily argued, "I can call for a house-elf-"
"I'm fine," Harry objected, "I mean, I know I died, but really, I feel fine. I'll look after Amalthea, but I need you to promise that you will stay put because if Tom does pull through this and you're not here? I think it will all be in vain."
"His act of remorse wasn't about me," Lily pointed out, "It was about you – losing you, more to the point. He may like my company or be fond of me, but he loves you, Harry."
Harry frowned.
"Maybe I helped a little, teaching him that he could love, he was just afraid to do so, but it's conventional love he's most scared of because of the nature of his conception," Lily explained, "The thing that humanised him, that broke him, in the end, was the love he felt for you – a fatherly kind of love."
"I think you're reading into it too much, Lily," Harry said with a half-smile, "He only named me as his heir because I had a part of him inside me. Now that it's gone, I can't hear his thoughts or feel his emotions."
"He named you as his heir because he thinks of you as a son," Lily said, "He gave you that pocket watch for the same reason, and your death literally broke him because he couldn't bear the thought that a killing curse, meant to save me had killed you."
Harry's frown deepened.
"If anyone could find a way to help wake him up, it's you, Harry. If anyone can get through to him through the haze, it's you."
Those words rang in Harry's head, even after he had left Lily to jog up the stairs to the tiny third floor of the house where Amalthea's nursery was located. He wasn't quite sure what the reasoning was behind the nursery being at the top of the house in pureblood homes.
There were two doors on the landing. One normal-sized one led into Amalthea's nursery, and a smaller door led into the half-height attic space.
Harry opened the door and stepped into the nursery – it was a nice room, quaint and peaceful. The walls were sloped on both sides and at the far end of the room was a small, ornate oval-shaped window. Harry walked through the room to the crib, and he picked Amalthea up.
She quietened down instantly, and Harry looked out of the window at the dull, grey sky overhead.
Little Hangleton could be seen at the bottom of the hill. Along the path was a charred patch of land where the Gaunt shack had stood once upon a time.
Tom had tried so hard to erase his past, but now he had to relive it all if he stood a chance of surviving his ordeal.
Harry looked down into Amalthea's big blue eyes – Daphne had said that babies eyes could change colour, but those eyes were identical to Tom's, so Harry doubted they would ever change.
"You think your Dad is gonna do it, Thea?" Harry murmured.
The little girl looked up at him soulfully.
"You think he can fix all the bad and wake up for us?" Harry asked.
Amalthea wriggled in his arms and let out a sharp cry.
"I don't know if that means no, or yes," Harry mused, bundling her up with a blanket and heading back downstairs to the corridor where Pollux had been awaiting news.
As he got there, Pollux beckoned him in from the doorway of Tom's bedroom, so Harry stepped inside with Amalthea.
The room was empty, bar from Pollux and Fleur.
Harry managed to smile at Fleur, "Thanks for doing this, Fleur. You must be struggling, being so close to your due date."
Fleur waved Harry off – despite being due her twins next month, she was still radiant and quite happy to be on her feet.
"I am fine, and it was the least I could do," Fleur said, her eyes flickering to Tom, "William would not let me help treat the wounded at Malfoy Manor last night; he sent me away."
"Rightly so," Harry said, "It was carnage at Malfoy Manor last night. You were much safer being away from that."
Fleur sighed and gestured to Tom, "From what we can tell, he is fine, physically. The problem is in here," she tapped her head.
Harry nodded because he had already known that.
"Our diagnostic charms have analysed his brain waves," Fleur continued, "Most coma patients show some level of activity and therefore are not classed as brain dead. However, his level of activity is off the scale. It seems like he is not just going about his daily life inside his head, but fighting for it."
"He is," Harry said darkly, "And there's no way to help him because he's a powerful Legilimens. Even in a coma, he won't let anyone in, will he?"
Pollux shook his head, and Harry sighed.
"Go home and put your feet up, Fleur," Harry ordered, "You have done more than enough here, thank you."
Fleur nodded and kissed Harry on the cheek on her way out.
"What's happening inside his head, Harry?" Pollux asked.
"His worst nightmare," Harry answered, looking over at his friend, "For his soul to knit back together, rather than destroy itself, he has to repent for the death of every person he murdered to split it in the first place."
Pollux sighed, but he didn't have that same look of dread in his eyes that Harry and Lily had.
"You think he can do it?" Harry asked in surprise.
"I knew Tom Riddle before he split his soul," Pollux said, by way of explanation, "I knew him when he doubted his actions when he thought before killing someone, so yes, I have faith in him, Harry."
Harry looked at Tom and wished he had as much faith as Pollux did. He looked ill, and he looked old. Harry supposed that was no surprise. After all, Tom was old; he was 70 even if he hadn't looked it with his Tom Riddle glamour charm on.
His appearance kept changing between Tom Riddle – the age he indeed was and Lord Voldemort.
"Take the ring off," Harry said to Pollux, "His magic is trying to sustain the glamour charm when it needs to focus on sustaining Tom's life."
Pollux nodded and pulled the ring off, keeping Tom in his 'true form. However, that true from looked a little different than it had the last time Harry had seen it.
'Voldemort' still had his usual pale pallor, but he also had Tom's face shape, and his mouth was no longer lipless. He had a nose, not slits for nostrils.
Harry pulled an eyelid back and saw scarlet eyes underneath.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, looking over at Pollux.
Pollux smiled proudly, "It means he is fighting, Harry."
* TBC *