A/N: Thanks for waiting so patiently for this one. Hope it was worth it. As
ever, I'm tampering with JKR's world and characters, but I'll give them a
nice cup of hot chocolate and send them back intact! Please leave a review
if you're reading. Only one chapter left to go…
When Time Stood Still
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."
~ Shakespeare: "Henry V"
*****
Harry whipped round, terror gripping his heart with vice-like fingers and squeezing the breath out of him completely. The tall figure was wreathed in shadows, but there was no mistaking him. Even without the burning pain rooted deep within his forehead he knew. This was it. The thing he had been dreading.
The silence crackled, and Harry adjusted his grip on his wand, feeling it slipping between his clammy fingers. He snatched a quick glance back over his shoulder, willing Hope and Ginny to be gone, but they weren't. Ginny stood rooted to the spot, clutching Hope tightly to her, staring mesmerised across the room.
"Come on, Ginny," he muttered to himself. The Port Key lay untouched on the table. She had to go. She'd be safe in The Burrow. Hope would be safe. One touch of the book and they'd be gone. They couldn't stay, or else…
"The boy is mine, and mine alone," the high-pitched voice dictated coldly. A figure moved stealthily out of the corner and away from the hooded shapes around him, slowly gliding nearer. The pallor of the tautened skin was revealed, red slits of eyes glowing with merciless glee as he surveyed the scene. The narrowed lips parted, a slivered forked tongue shooting out, moistening the area with relish.
"So…" the syllable came out as a low hiss, delight evident in the lilt of the word. "What have we here? The Potter family? How very touching of you to go to all that effort to remind me of history, Harry. A thoughtful tribute to your parents. Such a shame you've done all this in vain."
"It's going to be different this time," Harry growled, glaring at the wizard before him. He stood his ground, doing his level best to block the path to his wife and daughter. What was Ginny doing? They'd talked about this. She had to go. They couldn't risk anything hurting Hope. He shot another frantic look over his shoulder. They were still there.
"It will be different this time, you're right," Voldemort said loftily, a smile playing across his lips. "This time there will be no escape; not for you," he paused, his eyes roaming from Harry to Ginny and Hope. "Not for any of you. This time is final."
"What makes you so certain of that?" Harry shot back, sounding a lot braver than he felt. His knees had turned to jelly, but part of his brain was telling him that he had to play for time to let them escape; he had to keep Voldemort talking. "There could be any sorts of enchantments we've used to keep our baby safe."
"Do you really believe I hadn't considered that?" A peel of cold, high- pitched laughter pierced the air. "Since your good friend, Mr Creevey, was generous enough to inform me of the impending arrival of the next Potter, all possibilities have been taken into account. I have no wish to be torn from my body in such agony again. Indeed, it would not be a wizard worthy of power that did not take his past mistakes into account."
"C-Colin?" Ginny choked out painfully. "Colin told you?"
"It took some time," Voldemort's eyes glowed, "but he saw sense in the end and told us everything we needed to know. They always do. Such a shame he discovered what was good for him… a little too late."
There was a pause as the meaning behind the satisfaction in Voldemort's tone sank in. Harry stared at him aghast. A gasp told him that Ginny had understood too, and his eyes riveted on her. She had turned sheet-white, her dark eyes glittering as she glared at the Dark Lord, swaying slightly.
"You… you killed him," she accused. Voldemort laughed coldly.
"Hardly much of a loss," he sneered. "The boy was a Gryffindor with the pathetic bravado that always goes with it, but he was hardly the hero type. It's amazing what memory charms can do to a person when you probe deeply enough into the workings of their mind. If only he'd learnt to tell us the truth when we first asked, perhaps he would have lived. As it was…" He elevated his shoulders in a casual shrug.
Harry bit his lip and stared down at the carpet, imagining the horrors of what they must have done to Colin, his heart sinking like lead. How many more deaths was he going to cause? His parents, Cedric, Wormtail, Colin… The old miseries surged back with a feeling of defeat. Harry caught himself just in time. No. He couldn't think like this. He had Hope and Ginny, and a future. He had to put a stop to this, one way or another, while he had a chance.
His head snapped upwards quickly, until he was glaring at Voldemort with new hatred surging through his veins.
"He's more of a loss than you will ever be," he growled, raising his wand and preparing himself to fight.
"Oh, Harry, Harry!" Voldemort shook his head sorrowfully. "You don't really think you can still win, do you? Don't be foolish. You know you can never succeed. Come and join me. We can be great together and your family will live. After all, it would be such a pity if you lost another family so quickly after finding one."
There was a long pause.
"Look at them, Harry," the high-pitched voice hissed suggestively. "Join me and not a single hair of their heads will be harmed. Join me and they will live."
Harry swallowed hard, looking at his wife and daughter. Ginny was still pale, but her jaw was set that that determined angle he knew so well. There was no need for the almost imperceptible shake of her head for him to know what she was thinking. It was a leap into the unknown, but they'd stop Voldemort's rule of cruelty, or die trying.
Raised voices sounded beyond the hospital wing door and a commotion broke through the prickling tension in the room. Something was going on outside. Fighting in the hallway. Harry's spirits rose.
"Never!" he bellowed, covering Voldemort with his wand, his nerves coiled like tightly wound springs. "Ginny! Get Hope out of here! Now!"
There was no movement.
"Go!" he yelled with all his might, wondering if she hadn't heard him.
"No," the word was barely a whisper, but it carried with it every ounce of determination that she possessed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her cuddling Hope closer, and drawing her wand out of her robes. "I promised you two years ago that we'd see things through together, and that's just what I'm going to do."
Harry felt his stomach flip over at her words.
"How very… touching," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes narrowing further as the slit he had for a mouth stretched into a smile of satisfaction. "I wonder, who would enjoy the pleasure most of watching the other die? Or perhaps, I should start with your child." His arm extended, his long white spidery fingers reaching out to Hope. Ginny snatched her away, pointing her wand at him.
"Never come near my daughter," she snapped fiercely, backing away until she was pressed against the wall
"You cannot stop me," Voldemort said, his mirthless smile widening as his spindly fingers raised his own wand in their direction. Ginny gave a piercing scream, her face screwed up in abject agony as she buckled towards the ground, tightening her grip around her daughter and wrapping her own body protectively around Hope's. Harry started towards her, wondering what was happening. It wasn't a curse, their charm bond wasn't working to share the pain. So what was it?
"Don't move, Harry," the cold voice cut through his thoughts like steel. Harry ignored him, taking another step forwards. Ginny squealed more loudly in pain.
"What are you doing to her?" he whirled round, challenging him with his wand.
There was no response.
Ginny was kneeling on the floor by now, shaking but still clinging onto Hope. She managed to lift her head, russet tresses spilling over her shoulder and stared defiantly at the tall figure before her.
"I will never give her to you," she spat.
"No?" the smile widened, and his wand twitched. "Are you sure?"
The scream was blood-curdling. Harry dived towards her, attempting to put himself between whatever charm this was and Ginny. Yet, he felt nothing. Ginny was writhing as the pain intensified, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He looked wildly about him, desperate for help.
"Ginny?" he begged.
"Hope," she gasped. "He's using Hope."
Hope? The words made no sense to Harry at all. How could Hope be involved in what was happening to her mother? He didn't stop to think, and stretched his hands out for their child.
He recoiled almost at once. Hope was burning like a furnace, the raw heat surging from her tiny body was unbearable to the touch. Ginny clung tighter to her, fissures of pain lining her face.
"Never!" she hissed at Voldemort.
Harry understood. He steeled himself, and reached to take his daughter. The furious blistering agony shot from his hands upwards, the hurt was almost more than he could bear, but he had to hang on. He had to. He pulled Hope tight to him, knowing what this would do. The volcanic heat erupted through his chest, his nerve endings exploding as the surge hit him, and the flow of pain pulled him downwards. A dim thought was the only thing left in his mind as the ferocity intensified. He loved Hope. He had to hold on.
Laughter. The mirthless laughter of victory that had haunted his dreams for so long rang out, seeping through his remaining consciousness. Slow, purposeful footsteps drew nearer. There was nothing he could do. Nothing.
"Expelliarmus!" he heard the high voice cry in the distant mists of reality. Ginny gave a yell of protest as he wand was undoubtedly whipped from her hand.
Hope stirred against him, whimpering fretfully. The pain intensified, but somehow Harry forced himself back to his feet, his head spinning as he blindly faced his destiny. The room blurred and swayed before him.
"Don't be a fool, girl!"
A blur of red swung forwards, struggling with and fighting the wizard who towered above her. She might not have her wand but she wasn't going to give up easily, and neither was he.
"Deicio!"
Ginny's slight form was easily lifted and flung back hard against the hospital wing wall, slithering down it into a crumpled heap.
"No!" she gasped, clutching her ribs and wincing as she scrambled back to her feet. The figure of the most evil wizard the world had ever known was approaching them, his eyes glowing a far brighter red as he neared Hope, his wand extended. "Not Hope! Please. Please, anything but Hope. You can't." The last was a desperate plea, hysteria rising in her tones, tugging at his robes and begging to save her daughter.
Voldemort laughed coldly and knocked her viciously to the floor.
"Let the child go, Harry," he demanded.
"Not likely," Harry yelled back.
"I see you have learnt nothing," Voldemort's scornful tones dripped like syrup. "There is nothing to protect you now, Harry. No mother's spell, no Dumbledore, no charm bond… Just you and I…"
A wave of his wand and a muttered incantation made a burst of pain shoot through Harry's scar, a bolt of lightning slashing straight through his forehead. He heard Ginny hiss in a gasp of pain, dimly saw her clutch at her wrist and knew what must be happening. The charm bond they shared had been severed. His heart plummeted. What could he do now? The pain from holding Hope and in his scar was overwhelming; he felt dizzy and sick. He could barely see. But he had to think. Had to think. There had to be something. Something somewhere. Somehow.
"Wizard's duel?" he hazarded wildly. "Leave Ginny and Hope out of it for now. Let's settle this between us once and for all. I'll use Ginny's wand if you'll give it to me."
"How very honourable," the sarcasm was evident in the chilling tones. "Very well, I accept. You may have the wand after you give the child to its mother."
"Harry, you can't," Ginny gasped, clinging to him. "What if…?"
"I have to," he murmured, kissing her by her ear. He whispered urgently, "I love you both. This is the only way, but if it goes wrong, get out of here as fast as you can."
Hope was cooling down quickly as she was released from Voldemort's spell, and he gently eased her across into Ginny's trembling arms. She seemed to be awake now, wriggling in her blankets and making little gurgling noises. Before Ginny had got a firm grip on her, there was a sharp tug and she was wrenched from their grasps, levitated in mid-air before the Dark Lord. The sinister smile widened and a hiss of pleasure escaped the slit of a mouth; she was his.
"No!" Ginny screamed and launched herself at her daughter, but a fierce wall of flames sprang up around Voldemort and Hope, barring her way.
"Harry?" Ginny yelled, tears flooding to the surface and spilling over. "We've got to do something."
Harry looked at the wall of fire, orange and yellow tongues blazing ferociously to the ceiling of the hospital wing barring their path to their daughter. It stretched in all directions as far as they eye could see. He tried the dousing charm, but to no effect. There was no way through, Voldemort had made certain of that. He looked at Ginny and gulped… There was one way through.
"Let's," he said, jerking his head towards the flames, his stomach flipping itself into somersaults.
She nodded and grabbed his hand, clinging on tightly for dear life. Without a further word they rushed forwards, straight into the inferno. Eyes screwed tightly shut against the blistering burning of the flames Harry forced himself to keep running onwards. It seemed to go on forever. Stride after stride the flames attacked them more and more, robes alight by now. It was like a nightmare, their limbs moving ever more slowly as if they'd been weighed down by lead as the urgency of their task increased. Lungs stung as they struggled to breathe the fiery air.
Eventually they fell through into the space within, gasping for breath, skin stinging in agony, oozing with fresh burns. Harry could barely see through his glasses, but lifted his wand desperately as he heard the beginnings of a spell he'd give his own life to prevent.
"Avada Ke…"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Tom," a voice he recognised instantly sounded calmly across the situation.
"You?" Voldemort hissed as the distinctive figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere. Harry suddenly remembered encountering Dumbledore by the Mirror of Erised way back in his first year. He hadn't seen Dumbledore either then, but what was more important right now, more than anything else, was that Dumbledore was standing right beside Hope. Dumbledore would help. He glanced at Ginny, who was watching the situation, eyes wide open with terror, little fragments of flame still burning in her hair.
"You're a fool," Voldemort said with utmost distain. "Age has addled your brain."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, with a slight inclination of his head in acknowledgement. "But I would strongly suggest that you don't continue with your current course of action. All actions have consequences, Tom. My greatest hope was that you would have understood that by now."
"It's not like that," Voldemort laughed, more high-pitched than ever. "There is only power, and those too afraid to take it. That power will be mine."
"Power is an illusion," Dumbledore said gently. "It is a mere temptation for man, but something that can so easily crumble to dust beneath your fingers when you least expect it. Even when you think you have it, it is not true; power controls you, not the other way round."
"You're too afraid to take the power that could have rightfully been yours," Voldemort hissed. "I am not. This final action and the world will be mine."
"Some things are greater than power," Dumbledore reminded him. "Love for instance. Lily Potter showed you that almost eighteen years ago."
"Love is nothing but weakness," Voldemort snapped, turning his attention again to the task he had planned. "Look at those two. They can't even think straight because they're acting through pure emotion. What good is that to them?"
"It is all the good in the world," Dumbledore said softly, smiling at Harry and Ginny.
"I've no time for this rubbish," Voldemort said dismissively, and lifted his wand to Hope again. A cry of anguish broke through Ginny's lips and she began to scramble forwards. Dumbledore lifted his hand, preventing her movement. His blue eyes shone, clear as the summer sky, urging them to be still and trust.
Harry pulled Ginny tightly into his arms, wincing with pain. He couldn't watch. He trusted Dumbledore with all his heart, but to ask them to do this… He couldn't. It was his daughter. Tears flowed, the unspeakable ache in his heart choking in his throat. How could Dumbledore…?
"Please reconsider," Dumbledore said softly. Voldemort shook his head slowly, the red eyes glowing more maliciously than ever.
"You bumbling old fool," he sneered. "Nothing could stop me now."
He turned to Hope, and stared at her tiny form, still suspended in mid-air before him. She cooed at him, wriggling in her blankets and lifting her arms a little. Harry bit his lips together to stop himself from yelling out and Dumbledore's softly nodding head kept him still. A long white finger extended from the spidery hand and clawed its way down her cheek, the smile of satisfaction increasing when he realised she had no effect on him.
"Avada Kedavara."
A blast of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand straight at their daughter. Screams pierced the air. Harry had no concept of whether it was himself or Ginny who had cried out, but he held tightly to her and watched in frozen horror. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Not to Hope. Please, no.
"The charms's not working," Ginny sobbed in his arms. "I should be taking this, not her."
The green shaft of light hit Hope, but her wriggling continued. She didn't collapse instantly into a lifeless heap as he'd seen happen to Cedric and the others since then. Harry stared, his heart pounding madly in his chest. Somehow their newborn child was fighting his curse. It wasn't affecting her.
"Ginny," his breath shuddered out. She looked tearfully up at him and he nodded towards what was happening. The green light was gradually ebbing into a silvery sheen, an aura of silver shimmering round their baby. An expression of bewilderment crossed Voldemort's face, and he backed uncertainly away, only to be confined by his own wall of flame. The silvery glow was becoming stronger and stronger, shooting out in every direction. Harry held his breath, hardly daring to hope…
"You see, now?" Dumbledore's voice was gentler than ever as he stepped closer to Hope. He too was covered in the silvery shimmer of light. Harry's brain suddenly hurtled into action. He'd seen that before. The night after Hope was born in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had been casting some enchantment. Was that… this?
"Avada Kedavara," Voldemort's frantic voice pierced the skies.
The green light shot out again, meeting the silvery one and without warning they shot upwards in a multi-coloured fireball, engulfing them all in its light before it exploded with a boom so loud it rocked the ground they were crouched on. Debris fell, stones and rocks and dust from above them, heavier and heavier. Harry buried Ginny under his arms and braced himself as everything turned black.
When Time Stood Still
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."
~ Shakespeare: "Henry V"
*****
Harry whipped round, terror gripping his heart with vice-like fingers and squeezing the breath out of him completely. The tall figure was wreathed in shadows, but there was no mistaking him. Even without the burning pain rooted deep within his forehead he knew. This was it. The thing he had been dreading.
The silence crackled, and Harry adjusted his grip on his wand, feeling it slipping between his clammy fingers. He snatched a quick glance back over his shoulder, willing Hope and Ginny to be gone, but they weren't. Ginny stood rooted to the spot, clutching Hope tightly to her, staring mesmerised across the room.
"Come on, Ginny," he muttered to himself. The Port Key lay untouched on the table. She had to go. She'd be safe in The Burrow. Hope would be safe. One touch of the book and they'd be gone. They couldn't stay, or else…
"The boy is mine, and mine alone," the high-pitched voice dictated coldly. A figure moved stealthily out of the corner and away from the hooded shapes around him, slowly gliding nearer. The pallor of the tautened skin was revealed, red slits of eyes glowing with merciless glee as he surveyed the scene. The narrowed lips parted, a slivered forked tongue shooting out, moistening the area with relish.
"So…" the syllable came out as a low hiss, delight evident in the lilt of the word. "What have we here? The Potter family? How very touching of you to go to all that effort to remind me of history, Harry. A thoughtful tribute to your parents. Such a shame you've done all this in vain."
"It's going to be different this time," Harry growled, glaring at the wizard before him. He stood his ground, doing his level best to block the path to his wife and daughter. What was Ginny doing? They'd talked about this. She had to go. They couldn't risk anything hurting Hope. He shot another frantic look over his shoulder. They were still there.
"It will be different this time, you're right," Voldemort said loftily, a smile playing across his lips. "This time there will be no escape; not for you," he paused, his eyes roaming from Harry to Ginny and Hope. "Not for any of you. This time is final."
"What makes you so certain of that?" Harry shot back, sounding a lot braver than he felt. His knees had turned to jelly, but part of his brain was telling him that he had to play for time to let them escape; he had to keep Voldemort talking. "There could be any sorts of enchantments we've used to keep our baby safe."
"Do you really believe I hadn't considered that?" A peel of cold, high- pitched laughter pierced the air. "Since your good friend, Mr Creevey, was generous enough to inform me of the impending arrival of the next Potter, all possibilities have been taken into account. I have no wish to be torn from my body in such agony again. Indeed, it would not be a wizard worthy of power that did not take his past mistakes into account."
"C-Colin?" Ginny choked out painfully. "Colin told you?"
"It took some time," Voldemort's eyes glowed, "but he saw sense in the end and told us everything we needed to know. They always do. Such a shame he discovered what was good for him… a little too late."
There was a pause as the meaning behind the satisfaction in Voldemort's tone sank in. Harry stared at him aghast. A gasp told him that Ginny had understood too, and his eyes riveted on her. She had turned sheet-white, her dark eyes glittering as she glared at the Dark Lord, swaying slightly.
"You… you killed him," she accused. Voldemort laughed coldly.
"Hardly much of a loss," he sneered. "The boy was a Gryffindor with the pathetic bravado that always goes with it, but he was hardly the hero type. It's amazing what memory charms can do to a person when you probe deeply enough into the workings of their mind. If only he'd learnt to tell us the truth when we first asked, perhaps he would have lived. As it was…" He elevated his shoulders in a casual shrug.
Harry bit his lip and stared down at the carpet, imagining the horrors of what they must have done to Colin, his heart sinking like lead. How many more deaths was he going to cause? His parents, Cedric, Wormtail, Colin… The old miseries surged back with a feeling of defeat. Harry caught himself just in time. No. He couldn't think like this. He had Hope and Ginny, and a future. He had to put a stop to this, one way or another, while he had a chance.
His head snapped upwards quickly, until he was glaring at Voldemort with new hatred surging through his veins.
"He's more of a loss than you will ever be," he growled, raising his wand and preparing himself to fight.
"Oh, Harry, Harry!" Voldemort shook his head sorrowfully. "You don't really think you can still win, do you? Don't be foolish. You know you can never succeed. Come and join me. We can be great together and your family will live. After all, it would be such a pity if you lost another family so quickly after finding one."
There was a long pause.
"Look at them, Harry," the high-pitched voice hissed suggestively. "Join me and not a single hair of their heads will be harmed. Join me and they will live."
Harry swallowed hard, looking at his wife and daughter. Ginny was still pale, but her jaw was set that that determined angle he knew so well. There was no need for the almost imperceptible shake of her head for him to know what she was thinking. It was a leap into the unknown, but they'd stop Voldemort's rule of cruelty, or die trying.
Raised voices sounded beyond the hospital wing door and a commotion broke through the prickling tension in the room. Something was going on outside. Fighting in the hallway. Harry's spirits rose.
"Never!" he bellowed, covering Voldemort with his wand, his nerves coiled like tightly wound springs. "Ginny! Get Hope out of here! Now!"
There was no movement.
"Go!" he yelled with all his might, wondering if she hadn't heard him.
"No," the word was barely a whisper, but it carried with it every ounce of determination that she possessed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her cuddling Hope closer, and drawing her wand out of her robes. "I promised you two years ago that we'd see things through together, and that's just what I'm going to do."
Harry felt his stomach flip over at her words.
"How very… touching," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes narrowing further as the slit he had for a mouth stretched into a smile of satisfaction. "I wonder, who would enjoy the pleasure most of watching the other die? Or perhaps, I should start with your child." His arm extended, his long white spidery fingers reaching out to Hope. Ginny snatched her away, pointing her wand at him.
"Never come near my daughter," she snapped fiercely, backing away until she was pressed against the wall
"You cannot stop me," Voldemort said, his mirthless smile widening as his spindly fingers raised his own wand in their direction. Ginny gave a piercing scream, her face screwed up in abject agony as she buckled towards the ground, tightening her grip around her daughter and wrapping her own body protectively around Hope's. Harry started towards her, wondering what was happening. It wasn't a curse, their charm bond wasn't working to share the pain. So what was it?
"Don't move, Harry," the cold voice cut through his thoughts like steel. Harry ignored him, taking another step forwards. Ginny squealed more loudly in pain.
"What are you doing to her?" he whirled round, challenging him with his wand.
There was no response.
Ginny was kneeling on the floor by now, shaking but still clinging onto Hope. She managed to lift her head, russet tresses spilling over her shoulder and stared defiantly at the tall figure before her.
"I will never give her to you," she spat.
"No?" the smile widened, and his wand twitched. "Are you sure?"
The scream was blood-curdling. Harry dived towards her, attempting to put himself between whatever charm this was and Ginny. Yet, he felt nothing. Ginny was writhing as the pain intensified, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He looked wildly about him, desperate for help.
"Ginny?" he begged.
"Hope," she gasped. "He's using Hope."
Hope? The words made no sense to Harry at all. How could Hope be involved in what was happening to her mother? He didn't stop to think, and stretched his hands out for their child.
He recoiled almost at once. Hope was burning like a furnace, the raw heat surging from her tiny body was unbearable to the touch. Ginny clung tighter to her, fissures of pain lining her face.
"Never!" she hissed at Voldemort.
Harry understood. He steeled himself, and reached to take his daughter. The furious blistering agony shot from his hands upwards, the hurt was almost more than he could bear, but he had to hang on. He had to. He pulled Hope tight to him, knowing what this would do. The volcanic heat erupted through his chest, his nerve endings exploding as the surge hit him, and the flow of pain pulled him downwards. A dim thought was the only thing left in his mind as the ferocity intensified. He loved Hope. He had to hold on.
Laughter. The mirthless laughter of victory that had haunted his dreams for so long rang out, seeping through his remaining consciousness. Slow, purposeful footsteps drew nearer. There was nothing he could do. Nothing.
"Expelliarmus!" he heard the high voice cry in the distant mists of reality. Ginny gave a yell of protest as he wand was undoubtedly whipped from her hand.
Hope stirred against him, whimpering fretfully. The pain intensified, but somehow Harry forced himself back to his feet, his head spinning as he blindly faced his destiny. The room blurred and swayed before him.
"Don't be a fool, girl!"
A blur of red swung forwards, struggling with and fighting the wizard who towered above her. She might not have her wand but she wasn't going to give up easily, and neither was he.
"Deicio!"
Ginny's slight form was easily lifted and flung back hard against the hospital wing wall, slithering down it into a crumpled heap.
"No!" she gasped, clutching her ribs and wincing as she scrambled back to her feet. The figure of the most evil wizard the world had ever known was approaching them, his eyes glowing a far brighter red as he neared Hope, his wand extended. "Not Hope! Please. Please, anything but Hope. You can't." The last was a desperate plea, hysteria rising in her tones, tugging at his robes and begging to save her daughter.
Voldemort laughed coldly and knocked her viciously to the floor.
"Let the child go, Harry," he demanded.
"Not likely," Harry yelled back.
"I see you have learnt nothing," Voldemort's scornful tones dripped like syrup. "There is nothing to protect you now, Harry. No mother's spell, no Dumbledore, no charm bond… Just you and I…"
A wave of his wand and a muttered incantation made a burst of pain shoot through Harry's scar, a bolt of lightning slashing straight through his forehead. He heard Ginny hiss in a gasp of pain, dimly saw her clutch at her wrist and knew what must be happening. The charm bond they shared had been severed. His heart plummeted. What could he do now? The pain from holding Hope and in his scar was overwhelming; he felt dizzy and sick. He could barely see. But he had to think. Had to think. There had to be something. Something somewhere. Somehow.
"Wizard's duel?" he hazarded wildly. "Leave Ginny and Hope out of it for now. Let's settle this between us once and for all. I'll use Ginny's wand if you'll give it to me."
"How very honourable," the sarcasm was evident in the chilling tones. "Very well, I accept. You may have the wand after you give the child to its mother."
"Harry, you can't," Ginny gasped, clinging to him. "What if…?"
"I have to," he murmured, kissing her by her ear. He whispered urgently, "I love you both. This is the only way, but if it goes wrong, get out of here as fast as you can."
Hope was cooling down quickly as she was released from Voldemort's spell, and he gently eased her across into Ginny's trembling arms. She seemed to be awake now, wriggling in her blankets and making little gurgling noises. Before Ginny had got a firm grip on her, there was a sharp tug and she was wrenched from their grasps, levitated in mid-air before the Dark Lord. The sinister smile widened and a hiss of pleasure escaped the slit of a mouth; she was his.
"No!" Ginny screamed and launched herself at her daughter, but a fierce wall of flames sprang up around Voldemort and Hope, barring her way.
"Harry?" Ginny yelled, tears flooding to the surface and spilling over. "We've got to do something."
Harry looked at the wall of fire, orange and yellow tongues blazing ferociously to the ceiling of the hospital wing barring their path to their daughter. It stretched in all directions as far as they eye could see. He tried the dousing charm, but to no effect. There was no way through, Voldemort had made certain of that. He looked at Ginny and gulped… There was one way through.
"Let's," he said, jerking his head towards the flames, his stomach flipping itself into somersaults.
She nodded and grabbed his hand, clinging on tightly for dear life. Without a further word they rushed forwards, straight into the inferno. Eyes screwed tightly shut against the blistering burning of the flames Harry forced himself to keep running onwards. It seemed to go on forever. Stride after stride the flames attacked them more and more, robes alight by now. It was like a nightmare, their limbs moving ever more slowly as if they'd been weighed down by lead as the urgency of their task increased. Lungs stung as they struggled to breathe the fiery air.
Eventually they fell through into the space within, gasping for breath, skin stinging in agony, oozing with fresh burns. Harry could barely see through his glasses, but lifted his wand desperately as he heard the beginnings of a spell he'd give his own life to prevent.
"Avada Ke…"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Tom," a voice he recognised instantly sounded calmly across the situation.
"You?" Voldemort hissed as the distinctive figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere. Harry suddenly remembered encountering Dumbledore by the Mirror of Erised way back in his first year. He hadn't seen Dumbledore either then, but what was more important right now, more than anything else, was that Dumbledore was standing right beside Hope. Dumbledore would help. He glanced at Ginny, who was watching the situation, eyes wide open with terror, little fragments of flame still burning in her hair.
"You're a fool," Voldemort said with utmost distain. "Age has addled your brain."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, with a slight inclination of his head in acknowledgement. "But I would strongly suggest that you don't continue with your current course of action. All actions have consequences, Tom. My greatest hope was that you would have understood that by now."
"It's not like that," Voldemort laughed, more high-pitched than ever. "There is only power, and those too afraid to take it. That power will be mine."
"Power is an illusion," Dumbledore said gently. "It is a mere temptation for man, but something that can so easily crumble to dust beneath your fingers when you least expect it. Even when you think you have it, it is not true; power controls you, not the other way round."
"You're too afraid to take the power that could have rightfully been yours," Voldemort hissed. "I am not. This final action and the world will be mine."
"Some things are greater than power," Dumbledore reminded him. "Love for instance. Lily Potter showed you that almost eighteen years ago."
"Love is nothing but weakness," Voldemort snapped, turning his attention again to the task he had planned. "Look at those two. They can't even think straight because they're acting through pure emotion. What good is that to them?"
"It is all the good in the world," Dumbledore said softly, smiling at Harry and Ginny.
"I've no time for this rubbish," Voldemort said dismissively, and lifted his wand to Hope again. A cry of anguish broke through Ginny's lips and she began to scramble forwards. Dumbledore lifted his hand, preventing her movement. His blue eyes shone, clear as the summer sky, urging them to be still and trust.
Harry pulled Ginny tightly into his arms, wincing with pain. He couldn't watch. He trusted Dumbledore with all his heart, but to ask them to do this… He couldn't. It was his daughter. Tears flowed, the unspeakable ache in his heart choking in his throat. How could Dumbledore…?
"Please reconsider," Dumbledore said softly. Voldemort shook his head slowly, the red eyes glowing more maliciously than ever.
"You bumbling old fool," he sneered. "Nothing could stop me now."
He turned to Hope, and stared at her tiny form, still suspended in mid-air before him. She cooed at him, wriggling in her blankets and lifting her arms a little. Harry bit his lips together to stop himself from yelling out and Dumbledore's softly nodding head kept him still. A long white finger extended from the spidery hand and clawed its way down her cheek, the smile of satisfaction increasing when he realised she had no effect on him.
"Avada Kedavara."
A blast of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand straight at their daughter. Screams pierced the air. Harry had no concept of whether it was himself or Ginny who had cried out, but he held tightly to her and watched in frozen horror. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Not to Hope. Please, no.
"The charms's not working," Ginny sobbed in his arms. "I should be taking this, not her."
The green shaft of light hit Hope, but her wriggling continued. She didn't collapse instantly into a lifeless heap as he'd seen happen to Cedric and the others since then. Harry stared, his heart pounding madly in his chest. Somehow their newborn child was fighting his curse. It wasn't affecting her.
"Ginny," his breath shuddered out. She looked tearfully up at him and he nodded towards what was happening. The green light was gradually ebbing into a silvery sheen, an aura of silver shimmering round their baby. An expression of bewilderment crossed Voldemort's face, and he backed uncertainly away, only to be confined by his own wall of flame. The silvery glow was becoming stronger and stronger, shooting out in every direction. Harry held his breath, hardly daring to hope…
"You see, now?" Dumbledore's voice was gentler than ever as he stepped closer to Hope. He too was covered in the silvery shimmer of light. Harry's brain suddenly hurtled into action. He'd seen that before. The night after Hope was born in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had been casting some enchantment. Was that… this?
"Avada Kedavara," Voldemort's frantic voice pierced the skies.
The green light shot out again, meeting the silvery one and without warning they shot upwards in a multi-coloured fireball, engulfing them all in its light before it exploded with a boom so loud it rocked the ground they were crouched on. Debris fell, stones and rocks and dust from above them, heavier and heavier. Harry buried Ginny under his arms and braced himself as everything turned black.