Author's notes: This was written prior to the publication of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and was my attempt to predict how I thought the series might end. It obviously is not what J.K. Rowling wrote, but I still like how I used canon to support my conclusions.
Standard disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Warner Brothers. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. This is merely for entertainment purposes.
The Final….Closing Scene…Book 7. – Part 1
By Linda C. McCabe
Harry Potter opened the door slowly and saw his worst fear before him. At the front of the chapel stood Voldemort and Snape, they were standing over the outstretched body of Hermione Granger who lay motionless on a table.
Voldemort gave a wicked smile as he saw Harry approach.
"You could have saved your precious Mudblood, but your opposing me and my loyal followers led to this. It is too late for her, but you can still save yourself. Bow down to me, promise me your fealty and I shall let you have a better fate than hers."
Anger coursed through Harry's body. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore had ever trusted Snape. It had led to his death, Harry was sure of it. He simply didn't believe that Dumbledore had died of old age. Now, Snape had caused Hermione's death. Harry felt a hatred for Snape more acute than he ever had for Voldemort. He had lost his parents when he was a young child, and lost Sirius two years before. Those losses had been hard for him to accept, but the thought of losing Hermione seemed to pierce a large hole in his heart.
Harry glared at Snape, ignoring what Voldemort had just said. "You did this to her."
"Yes," Snape answered coolly. "She was always a very trusting young woman. She seemed to believe that any teacher hired by Dumbledore was to be trusted. She didn't understand that a spy is someone who is never to be trusted. That trust led to where she is now. At least she had some spark of intelligence; you however have always been a dullard. From your first lesson, you demonstrated that you were merely trying to coast on your celebrity status. I doubt that a single useful thing has ever penetrated that thick skull of yours."
Harry felt bile rising in the back of his throat. It was just like Snape to remind him of that first day of school when he was asked all sorts of questions about potions Harry couldn't have known about. Harry could still remember angrily writing "powdered root of asphodel" and "infusion of wormwood" with his quill after suffering that public humiliation. He then remembered something from that overgrown bat had said in his self-aggrandizing speech, something about trying to stopper death. Harry looked at Snape's glittering eyes and began to wonder if Snape was trying to give him a clue. Perhaps Hermione wasn't dead after all; maybe she was just under the effects of a sleeping potion.
"Master, perhaps this boy should have some time to reflect on his options," Snape said. "He's never been very bright, and now that his private tutor has been taken away from him, he's going to have to do some thinking on his own for a change. He needs to decide if he would rather join us and share in power over the weak, agree to be banished from our world, or if he'd rather go the heroic martyr's route and be imprisoned in Azkaban like his late godfather."
"Yessss," Voldemort hissed, "perhaps the boy needs a little time to decide. I shall give you one hour's time to decide your fate. Live as my servant, be banished forever or survive as a prisoner."
He then conjured a large hourglass with emerald beads in it. Voldemort placed it on the table next to Hermione and the beads started running to the bottom. "When the hour is up, I shall return for your answer. Needless to say, you will not be allowed to leave this building. Enjoy spending some time with your dead Mudblood girlfriend."
With the swish of two cloaks, the two people Harry hated the most on earth left the chapel.
Harry sunk to his knees and placed his face in his hands. He needed to think, but was feeling overwhelmed. He could never join the Dark Side, nor could he leave and allow them free reign to terrorize Wizards and Muggles alike. And living as a prisoner? How would that be living?
No, what he needed was Hermione. He needed her by his side, only then would he know what needed to be done.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something hidden in the corner of the pedestal. It was a mortar and pestle. He lifted it up and smelled the powder clinging to the sides. It had the acrid smell of wormwood. Perhaps she was only asleep. The Draught of Living Death…His mind jammed as he was trying to think back to the rest of that painful lesson so many years ago.
"Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
The stomach of a goat. That's where he should look. A goat, but where was he going to find a goat? He couldn't leave the building, and his wand had been seized from him earlier that day. He felt utterly helpless and alone. Harry closed his eyes and started thinking back to his second year when he fervently wished for help to come and somehow Fawkes came to his aid. Maybe it could happen again, if he asked for help.
Suddenly a plan came to Harry. As he kneeled and prayed for Fawkes to appear, he heard the familiar cry of the phoenix as it appeared out of thin air and came to rest at his feet. Harry stroked the bird and then started going through Hermione's book bag that lay on the ground beneath the table. He found a quill, parchment and a small ink bottle.
Ron,
This is an emergency! Grab my father's cloak and map, go to the Hogshead Inn and tell Aberforth that you need a bezoar. Use my Firebolt, and then bring the stone to me at the chapel behind the cemetery.
Hermione's life is at stake, there is no time to waste.
Harry
He gave the note to Fawkes and told the bird to take it immediately to Ron. Harry could only hope that Ron could fly out the Gryffindor Tower window wearing the Invisibility Cloak and get past the Death Eaters that had laid siege to the castle. Harry began to pace in nervousness, but found that it only increased his anxiety. He turned and looked closely at Hermione, trying to see if there were any signs of life left in her.
Hermione looked as if she were peacefully sleeping; but there was no rise and fall of her chest to indicate that she was breathing. She was still, as still as a statue. Harry was forcefully reminded of her being petrified in their second year. At that time, her eyes were wide open and her hand outstretched as she held a mirror to protect herself from the fatal gaze of the basilisk. Now her eyes were closed and her hands were at her side.
As if she was merely asleep.
Harry grasped her hand and felt that it was as cold as ice. Her fingers were soft and not hard like a rock, but they were as cold as death.
"Don't die, Hermione," he pleaded. "Please don't die. We've been through so much together. Remember when we first met? The first thing you did when you learned my name was to tell me how many books you had read with me in them. I should have known then, that you'd always keep me on my toes."
He looked at her sleeping face and wished that she would blink, or smile, or frown, or something. Some sign of recognition. Nothing.
What Harry wouldn't give to see her smile again, to see that spark of fierce determination in her eyes. She meant the world to him, and it was only now with the fear that he might lose her forever that he started to realize how important she was to him. She had always been loyal to him, even when it angered him. She had witnessed him almost dying in their third year when he fell off his Nimbus 2000, so she freaked out when he got the Firebolt anonymously. She was right about its source, and she risked his wrath to try and protect his life. He had been such a prat towards her, because he temporarily lost a racing broom. She never once doubted his abilities or his sincerity in all their years together. She pushed him to succeed, and at times he resisted it, but he needed her.
Harry needed Hermione badly.
He was mentally willing the idea that there was still time to save her life. He wouldn't consider the possibility that she was already dead. He couldn't.
Ron finally appeared in the doorway, looking out of breath and frantic. Harry ran to his friend and took the stone from him. Ron was staring at the front of the church at Hermione as tears began falling down his cheeks.
"She's not…" he began.
"I don't know," said Harry as he hurriedly went back to her side.
Harry touched her cold face and pried open her jaw to place the small stone under her tongue. He didn't know how long it would take to work, if it would work at all.
Ron had come forward, knelt, and bowed his head in front of Hermione.
Harry leaned over and began to stroke and caress her cold face. He brushed the hair away from her eyes. She was cold, so cold. He felt a mixture of hope and dread fear course through his body. He kept reminding himself that there was still time, that there was still hope.
"Don't leave me," he pleaded. "I need you, Hermione. You've always been by my side. I can't make it without you."
He began to feel his emotions wash over him. "I love you, Hermione," he said as he gently kissed her cold, lifeless lips.
Harry tasted the saltiness of his tears as he continued trying to revive her through sheer force of will. And then, he felt a slight change in the kiss. Hermione's lips began to warm up and he began to realize that his very own Galatea's eyes had opened and she was looking up at him.
"Harry," she said grasping his hand.
"You're alive," he croaked as he helped her sit up. "Be careful, there's a stone in your mouth," he warned as he helped her remove it.
She looked at him and appeared groggy at first, but quickly recovered as tears welled in her eyes.
"I couldn't move at all, but I heard everything. I heard everything you said," Hermione whispered. "I love you, Harry. I've always loved you."
Harry crushed her in his arms and clung to her. As he held her in his arms, he began to draw strength from her. He began to see that there was a fifth alternative that he had never considered. For years, he thought that he would have to murder Voldemort, but now he saw another way. One that didn't involve trying to kill the evil wizard with his bare hands.
Harry looked at the hourglass, and saw that there were only a few minutes left. He had to tell his friends what was about to happen. He kissed Hermione on the forehead and held her at arms-length with his hands on her shoulders. "I couldn't have lived with myself if you had died. I didn't know what I was going to do, but now that both you and Ron are here, I now know the course I must take."
Harry turned and saw that Ron had a look of utter anguish on his face.
"Voldemort knows that he and I share a magical bond between us. If I die, he dies. That's why he wants me alive, but I will never serve him," Harry then cradled Hermione's face in his hands. "I'd love to try and start a new life with you somewhere far away like Barbados, and try to forget everything and everyone we left behind, but it wouldn't work. We couldn't be happy knowing that people here were being tortured and killed so that we could try to live 'normal lives.' I couldn't bear it if Ron, Ginny or the twins or anyone else were harmed. And if I don't do this, he will murder you and I couldn't bear for that to happen."
"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione fearfully.
"The only thing that I can do. I have to sacrifice my life, for everyone else's sake."
"No, Harry, you can't kill yourself," Hermione said forcefully.
"You're right," he said kissing her cheek. "I can't do that."
Harry then turned and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I need your help. When he returns, I need for you to do the biggest favour anyone could ever ask. You were willing to die in our first year, in order to stop him. Now I need you to do what I can't, you must stop him by killing me."
Ron had a look of terror in his eyes. "Harry, please don't ask me to…"
"It's the only way," Harry insisted. "Use the Severing Charm on me, only do it clean. I don't want to end up like Sir Nick."
"Harry – I –" protested Ron.
"You must give me your word," said Harry firmly.
Ron looked resolute and nodded.
Hermione embraced Harry and sobbed on his shoulder. He calmly stroked her hair.
"Take good care of her for me," Harry said to Ron. "I know you love her as much as I do."
Ron nodded again as he tried blinking back his tears.
As the last emeralds fell through the hourglass, the doors opened as Snape and Voldemort entered the chapel.
"Well, well, it seems that Snape didn't kill the little Mudblood after all," Voldemort said. "You surprised me, and you know how I dislike surprises. I didn't realize that you had a soft spot for young love, Severus. That is a weakness I shall deal with later. But it does allow for a greater dilemma for you, Harry Potter. Now I can see exactly how much she means to you. It would be a pity for you to lose her twice Harry, but if you don't join me, I will kill her myself with you as a witness."
Harry then gave Hermione one last kiss, walked over to the table and nodded to Ron who lifted his wand and uttered the Severing Charm.
As Voldemort began to comprehend what was happening, he yelled, "NOOOOOOO!"
It was too late. No amount of wand work from the evil sorcerer could stop the decapitation of Harry Potter, nor of the parallel decapitation of Voldemort. Blood spilled forth like twin fountains from the two bodies, one young and red, one old and black. The blood mixed in the air and on the floor.
Hermione was covered in Harry's blood and sank to her knees and prayed. "You can't leave me Harry, you can't leave me, I love you, you can't leave me, I won't let you," she said fervently. "Dear God in Heaven, you allowed your son to be sacrificed to atone for the sins of mankind. Harry Potter was willing to sacrifice himself to save others as well. Just as you resurrected your son Jesus, please resurrect Harry. He demonstrated his unconditional love for others. Please return him to life, and I promise he will serve as your humble servant the rest of his days."
A rush of wind blew the doors to the chapel open and a swirl of leaves encircled the altar. As it moved around the room, an ethereal glow emanated from it. She opened her eyes as Harry Potter smiled at her. His head had been magically reattached to his body.
"I think you found a way to unlock that special door Dumbledore told me about in the Department of Mysteries," he said.
She laughed and cried as she kissed him. Harry held her close to him, and then whispered, "Thank you for saving my life."
"Sure, anytime. Thank you for saving mine."
They turned to Ron, who looked shocked.
"Wh-what happened?" he asked. "You – you were dead, and now…"
"Voldemort was defeated by a power that he's never known. Your love for me, helped give me the strength and courage to do the right thing, but Hermione's love was strong enough to resurrect me to life. What saved me was the Power of Love. "
Hermione gave Harry a knowing smile and then said, "It's strong and it's sudden. It can be cruel sometimes…"
Harry started to laugh when he recognized what she meant and joined in with her singing, "But it might just saaave your liiiife."
Ron frowned at them. "You two are mental."
"Yeah, well, it's been one of those days," Harry admitted. "Thank goodness I'm done with school...I'd hate to think that next year in June I could face anything worse."
Harry then looked up at Snape who had walked over to them, and was surprised to see that the Potions master was wearing a genuine smile on his face.
"You did well, Harry," he said. "You passed the test with flying colours. No one can claim that your defeat of the Dark Lord this time was by sheer luck. It was due to your stout heart. And look," he said rolling up his left sleeve. "The Dark Mark is gone. His followers will be abandoning their posts knowing that their Master has been defeated. A new day has dawned, and now there is a brighter future. Thanks to you and your friends."
Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Could Snape have just given them a genuine compliment?
Snape conjured two bottles, placed them on the table, and then waved his wand. "Allow me to clean things up a little."
The copious spilled blood filled the two bottles, one was a bright red color and the other was black. Harry realized the blood that had drenched his and Hermione's clothes was now gone. He began to think that maybe Dumbledore was right in trusting Snape after all.
"Harry," Hermione said touching his forehead, "your scar. It's gone."
"Is it?" he said sounding surprised and happy. He looked down at the body of the dead wizard on the floor. "Good. That means that I'm finally freed of him and that wretched prophecy."
Hermione slid her arm behind Harry's back as they walked out of the chapel into the rays of the setting sun. It had been one of the worst days in Harry's life, but now it was turning out to be one of his best. He now had a bright future to look forward to. He had finished his last exams a few days before, no longer had the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head now that Voldemort was finally dead, and he had finally realized that he was in love with his best friend and the woman of his dreams. He could also look forward to possibly living a "normal life" as a wizard. Sure, he would still be known as "The Boy Who Lived" and now "The Young Man Who Vanquished Voldemort," but he wouldn't be as quite as recognizable in public now that he no longer bore an accursed scar.
Author's comments: I had been convinced after reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire that Harry was going to have to sacrifice himself in order to bring about the death of Voldemort. And this was due to what appeared to be a toss-off line where Harry predicted his own death by decapitation in Divination homework in GoF. That made me think it was foreshadowing. I started noticing how frequently decapitation was used throughout the series: Nearly Headless Nick, The Hog's Head Tavern replete with dripping blood on the sign, condemnation of Buckbeak to death by beheading, and later - the house-elf heads hung on the wall in the House of Black. I was predicting the simultaneous death of Harry Potter and Voldemort similar to the mutual death of King Arthur and Mordred. Then in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix there was the mention of a locked door in the Department of Mysteries that held the Power of Love. I began thinking that Harry might survive after all, but that it would require that door to blast open.
I would like to credit my friend Marie Granger's suggestion who was a beta reader when I first wrote this short story years ago. I had merely put in the Power of Love, which she correctly started thinking of the great Huey Lewis song. I had wanted to make people think of it in a subtle manner. She thought it should be more explicit, and to leave people in a better ending mood. So, yes, I included some lyrics from the song, "The Power of Love" by Huey Lewis and the News.
My friend Dome 36 suggested that I write this scene again from the perspectives of Ron and Hermione, to see what they were feeling during this ordeal. That will be parts 2 and 3.
If you enjoy my writing, please consider trying my novels which are Medieval epic historic fantasies /QuestWarriorMaiden I would like to also mention that my writing was inspired by my time in the HP fandom. I started recording a serialized videocast on YouTube where I read the chapters and include classic illustrations to enliven the videos for Quest of the Warrior Maiden. /j8pum3nSWOQPlease check them out. There are links in my author profile if you would like to learn more about the Bradamante & Ruggiero series.