Chapter 8 - The Glass Vile
Disclaimer: all characters except Jerica are owned by JK Rowling.
Back up at the castle, Madam Pomfrey was fretting over the minor abrasions on Jerica's neck. "It's alright..I'm okay."
As Jerica and Harry sat on one of the hospital beds, holding each other tightly, Dumbledore walked into the room.
"Your back, I see." he said softly, walking towards them.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry muttered, looking fondly at the headmaster.
"Well, you have done it again, Harry. And Jerica, you have made the wizarding world very proud tonight."
"Is...is Voldemort...dead?" Jerica asked, her voice wavering.
"No...I'm afraid he's not dead. But there is a very reasonable explanation as to why."
Harry and Jerica looked at the older wizard, both completely confused.
"Do you know what the contents of that vile you had were, Jerica?" Dumbledore asked, a slight grin on his face.
"No...well I had assumptions...when I held the vile it made me really warm and content...so I think it had something to do with love, or life." she said, looking to Harry and back to Dumbledore.
"Indeed, you are correct. The contents of the vile were the strongest love potion ever created, but the person who created it preserved it in it's gas form. That is why it looked like mist. When the gas is breathed in, it brings out whatever love it can find in a person and allows that love to overshadow all other emotions. But if there is no love in a being to begin with, such as Voldemort, then that being is destroyed by the mist."
"But...why wasn't Voldemort completely destroyed?"
"Because not all of the mist was inside the vile."
Jerica suddenly realized what he meant. When she had opened the vile upon first seeing it, a bit of it must have escaped. Not all of the mist was inside the vile when Harry had opened it.
"It's all my fault..." Jerica said, her eyes going blank.
"No, it is not your fault. Voldemort has been reduced to nothing but a shadow. He can do no harm without help now, and all of his deatheaters think he is dead. And all of that is thanks to you."
Jerica looked up as the older wizard touched her face softly and walked out of the room. She turned to Harry and her wrapped his arms tightly around her.
~*~
That evening, under the light of the stars and the moon, Harry and Jerica stood peacefully on the highest part of the castle that overlooked the lake.
Stars shimmered on the surface of the lake as it sat like glass amidst the still night. A crescent moon shone down from the sky and lit up their world.
Jerica turned to Harry, her lips running along his jaw line, tracing the curved edge of it softly. He looked down and his mouth met hers. He wrapped her in a warm kiss that went on forever.
Warmth fueled through them despite the chilly night air, and happiness seemed to radiate off their eyes.
Jerica pulled out of the kiss and looked up at Harry. "I love you," she said softly, watching how his eyes seemed to glow at the sound of the words.
"I love you too.." he said quietly, cupping her chin in his hands. "When this years over...and were out of Hogwarts...would you...oh, well...will you marry me?"
Jerica let out a soft cry and looked up into his eyes.
"Yes."
~*~