Chapter Fifteen—Heart of a Hero

Hagrid had not yet arrived in the backyard, though the sun was beginning to make an appearance, but within five minutes, Harry saw in the sky a flock of massive, black beings soaring at a remarkable speed.

"Here they are," Dumbledore stated as the beasts began their descent. Within moments, the huge, skeletal horses with their wide, staring eyes had landed lightly on the grass. Hagrid was sitting astride one.

"Here yeh are, Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said. "Yeh said yeh'd be needin' twenty-four, so I brough' yeh twenty-six, jus' ter be certain. Tha' be enough, then?"

"Yes, Hagrid, thank you," Dumbledore confirmed. "You can bring two back with you."

Nodding, Hagrid reached from the back of his own mount to grab the reins of a second; only then did Harry realize that the horses had all been saddled up for riders. This trip would be more comfortable that the previous time he had ridden off to battle on a Thestral…and hopefully it wouldn't end with the death of someone he cared about…

Harry looked instinctively over at Link, who was swinging comfortably into his saddle, and realized with a lurch that this journey was going to end that way. Link and Zelda were riding out, but on the way back, there would be two extra Thestrals, and Harry would be the one with the Master Sword across his back.

Inexplicably, he found himself desperately wishing that at this moment he could be anyone other than himself. He didn't think he could handle what was being expected of him. He had gone into battle before, yes, but that was something quite different from picking up Link's legacy and saving the world… It took all his willpower climb onto his mount's back.

Then, for no apparent reason, he remembered the words he had written for his parents and Sirius. He had finally found the time to write them down…and left them in his dormitory. His heart plunged horribly. His one chance, and he had ruined it.

"Stick by me, Prongs," came Link's voice. "Sheik and Phoenix, you two stick together, too!"

Grateful for an excuse to canter over to Link's side, Harry said quietly, "Hey, L—I mean…Commander. I need to talk to you."

Giving him a sharp look, Link muttered, "Right now?" To the party in general, he called, "Get into ranks when you're mounted."

"Well," mumbled Harry uncomfortably, "it's either now or in the middle of battle."

Link sighed. "True. Okay, what is it?"

Suddenly Harry felt as though his problem was trivial. But no, he brushed that concern aside; surely Link would understand.

"It's just… You remember you said you'd give a message to my parents and Sirius?"

Link's eyes widened, and he said quietly, "Taniway." (This, Harry knew, was a particularly impolite Hylian word; Zelda had been quite annoyed that Link dared teach it to Harry and Ron.) To the troops, he shouted, "Everyone, ready to fly?"

"Yes, Commander," came twenty-four voices as one.

"Advance!"

In unison, twenty-four Thestrals spread their wings and took to the sky. Harry heard Dumbledore's voice, surprisingly loud, yell, "The Riddle House, Little Hangleton!" Their mounts needed no more than this to instantly begin soaring northeast.

"Sorry, Harry," said Link over the sound of the wind and the wings. "It's just that I forgot. No big deal. So what did you want me to tell them again?"

"That's the problem. I wrote these notes saying exactly all the things I wanted to tell them, but I've left them back at Hogwarts."

Link frowned, thinking; his expression was one that Harry subconsciously thought of as property of Sirius Black. Then it unexpectedly became flat and guarded, though he still didn't speak. When he finally did give an answer, it wasn't one Harry had anticipated.

"Not a problem."

"What?"

"I've just asked Sheik," he explained, and Harry understood the blank expression. "He says that people usually don't really use words in the Sacred Realm. They can if they want to, but most of the time they just communicate ideas directly. That way, no language barriers, no misinterpretations, no lies."

"So…what do we do?"

"We form a telepathic connection. Then I can get your thoughts to them, exactly as you mean them. In fact, this way's better, because telepathy is permanent." He shot Harry a flash of a smile. "It can't be broken by a little thing like death."

"You mean…" Harry began slowly, not knowing where his sentence was going. He found a smile crossing his face as well, a smile that grew from a contentment deeper than superficial happiness.

"We'll be able to talk to each other forever. We'll have to use words and not ideas, because you're still alive, but that's no big deal. Plus, from where I am, I can see what's going on back on the mortal plane. And I can pass things back and forth between you and…anyone else in the Sacred Realm who you might want to communicate with."

They both grinned, and for some reason Harry felt something swelling in his chest. It was almost out of his mouth before he realized that it was, unaccountably, laughter. He let out a brief shout of it, punctuated with adrenaline, without fully understanding why. He thought it had something to do with freedom.

Link was smiling widely, with the same sort of strange and almost inappropriate happiness. "Come here," he instructed Harry. "Fly right up alongside me."

Harry obeyed, and watched as Link took his hands off of the Thestral's reins, balancing with his knees. He reached out his arms towards Harry, who didn't know how to respond.

"Come on, give me your hands," Link said, once he recognized Harry's confusion.

"What?! I'll fall!"

Link snorted. "You ride a broom with no hands while iron balls are flinging themselves at your head, and this thing actually has a saddle. Now give me your hands."

While this was a good point, there was still the fact that Harry tended to play Quidditch at a considerably lower height than this. Still, he could see no point in objecting.

Squeezing his mount's sides with his knees so hard he thought he might break an equine rib, Harry slowly released his own reins and reached out for Link. He didn't dare breathe.

"All right," said the Hylian, gasping Harry's hands firmly. "Now, just remain calm and hold still."

Harry raised his eyebrows. The latter instruction went without saying, and the former was impossible. Link, however, was too focused to notice Harry's scepticism. He had closed his eyes, and was taking deep, meditative breaths that made a strange rasping noise.

At first, Harry felt nothing except extreme discomfort, both physical and emotional. Then he felt a warm sensation in his hands that wasn't just body heat, spreading up his arms, into his body, as though he suddenly had more blood pumping life through his veins. When the warmth reached his mind, he felt Link's thoughts, but they came as words.

::Breathe like me.::

So Harry did, emitting the same odd sounds so that the breath felt like it were coming from a deeper part of him than just his lungs.

::This is the connection,:: came Link's voice in his head again.

Harry found that he knew how to communicate back, simply by sending his thoughts to the front of his mind, from which point they easily slipped out and across to Link.

::Okay… But what happens if we let go?::

::We let go slowly, to let our minds get acclimatized to the change. Then nothing happens. We keep the connection, but we can open and close it whenever we want to talk.::

And so they very slowly released the grips they each had on the other's hands, which, Harry was only now realizing, were so tight it was painful. The warmth receded slightly, but it didn't go away completely. Even when they had fully let go and settled themselves back securely onto their mounts—they had been dangerously unstable—Harry felt as though his mind was closer to the front of his consciousness, and that Link's was nearly touching it. Having someone so close, yet without invading his privacy, was very reassuring. It wasn't like Legilimens, which forced his mind and memory open. It was kind and gentle and under his control.

::There,:: thought Link. ::Right now we're using words, or we can think emotions and pictures, because we're both on the mortal plane. We can't just use thoughts yet, like we could if we were both in the Sacred Realm.:: He paused before adding as an afterthought, ::I've never done telepathy that way before.::

::What, with thoughts instead of words? Or by holding hands?::

Link sent his laughter, and Harry heard it silently. ::Well, both, actually, now that you mention it. I've never had to start a connection like that before… Zel opened my powers the first time, and she did it with the Ocarina of Time somehow… She was always better at that stuff than me.::

Harry smirked; she had said the same thing outside the Forbidden Forest.

Abruptly, the Thestrals pointed their heads to the ground and dove. Harry felt a thrill of terror; though the mental presence of Link was reassuring, it didn't stop his stomach from turning inside out and his body setting itself on fire in panic. He could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, as though beating against the walls of his body and begging to be freed. A loud cry lingered in his throat, threatening to explode, and holding it in only made him feel he might go mad. It actually hurt. He allowed himself a small whimper to release the tension, but it made him collapse from within. He suddenly could think of nothing but how he longed to get away and never, never have to face a Death Eater against as long as he lived, to escape into some happy bubble where no unpleasant thing was real.

Link must have sensed this uncharacteristic fear, because he informed Harry, ::After I die, you'll never be scared again.::

To himself, Harry thought, You're a Gryffindor…you're a descendant of Gryffindor! You are the pride of James and Lily Potter and Sirius Black! You are the next True Hero, of the bloodline of Link I! You are the one destined to destroy Voldemort—

Or have him destroy you—

The goddesses will not let evil win!

This last thought surprised Harry so much that he abandoned the others. The goddesses. Other than a passing reference the letter he had left with Dobby for his friends, he had never thought about them. But they were real, they had to be, because Link and Zelda were here…and because one of Harry's distant aunts, thousands of years ago, reigned in the Sacred Realm as a demi-goddess…

The Thestrals landed softly. They had arrived. The battle was about to begin.

The large, crumbling house looked like an abused victim of Voldemort's reign of terror. Ivy spread over its face, trying to hide its wounds, as victims in denial so often did. It was weak and vulnerable.

Harry hated it. He wanted to utterly destroy the place that housed so much evil. He drew a deep breath as he dismounted from his horse, his heart jolting unpleasantly. He saw Link look at him sideways.

::Are you okay?::

::I want to do this. I really need to do this.:: Even thought he didn't know why.

He drew his wand, clutching it tightly in his sweating hand. He barely saw Link give the signal that meant advance.

As one, they moved silently across the lawn of the Riddle House towards its looming shape. It seemed strange to Harry that they could just walk up to it…surely Voldemort would have some sort of protection surrounding his headquarters, other than the ones they had already infiltrated.

When they were within ten feet of the entrance, his doubts were answered—a jet of red light shot out of a broken window and struck Elphias in the chest, and though he gave only the slightest cry as he fell, they all knew that the Stunner meant the Death Eaters were ready to fight.

"MOVE!" bellowed Link, but they knew the plan, and were all already sprinting.

In the instant chaos that ensued, Harry saw and heard Stunning Spells, Unforgivable Curses and other enchantments flying to and from both sides. The Order members crowded him protectively, as per their attack strategy, but not so closely that he couldn't help in the battle.

"Protego! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Harry pointed his wand at every window he could see, aiming around the allies that ran in front of him. The instant they reached the door and swarmed through it, they switched into a different battle mode. Dumbledore, Sheik, Link and Harry moved closer together and hurried up the stairs, along with all the Order members, to find the Death Eaters that had been attacking them from the windows. They didn't have to look far, however, as Voldemort's followers emerged into the halls on the second and third floors in numbers Harry wouldn't have imagined. He had been under the impression that they only visited here when they needed to communicate with their leader, but now it seemed that this was in fact where many of them lived.

On the ground floor, more were Apparating in quick succession with loud cracks like a series of gunshots, and Harry knew that Voldemort must have summoned them all with the Dark Mark. He wondered if Wormtail would make an appearance, or Lucius Malfoy…

Or Bellatrix Lestrange…

"Avada kedavra!!"

The sound of the incantation, though he didn't recognize the voice, made Harry jump. A jet of light was flying through the air towards where he stood with Link, but the Hero of Time was unfazed, and slashed quickly before himself with his sword like a bat. Just as during the demonstration in Tonks' class, the Master Sword sent the energy back from where it had come, and it struck a masked Death Eater, who screamed in agony as it seized him, and fell backwards into one of his fellows.

But there was no time to stop and wonder at this. At each turn, a few Order members branched off to engage the Death Eaters they met in combat. By the time they arrived at the top, where they knew the two Dark Lords waited, only four of them would remain to fight.

And no doubt those Dark Lords were waiting with bated breath to fight for the power of the goddesses…

Link was in front when the four of them reached the fourth floor, the top, and turned a sharp left towards the room where Harry knew Voldemort always stationed himself, the room that the others had seen in his memory. Link was the first to explode through the double doors, kicking them open with the superhuman strength granted to him, even in his current form, by the gauntlets of gold that he wore on his arms. The resounding boom that echoed through the house as the doors cracked off their hinges announced the presence of Wisdom and Courage.

There stood Power, both of its representatives; Ganondorf grinned demonically, and Voldemort met his opponents gaze with cool evenness. Harry, of course, was completely unsurprised by the sight of them, but he heard Link next to him give a shuddering gasp of horror.

::I dreamed about that man…that…thing…when I was a kid!:: he thought, before Harry could ask.

::He's evil,:: Harry thought back with furious bitterness.

::I know.::

As if their thoughts had been audible, and Voldemort wished to prove his reputation, he said smoothly, "Delighted to see all of you. And I'm sure this will shape up to be a fine epic battle." He was smiling widely, even as his four opponents advanced on him and his ally; it unnerved Harry. It was almost like Voldemort was expecting something else, that would turn the battle in his favour…

"My Lord!" came a voice from the doorway that turned Harry's blood to ice. He whipped around, and felt Dumbledore gripping his shoulder.

Bellatrix stood there, wand out, clearly having come from the middle of her own fight. There was no trace of fear on her features as she noticed Harry and Dumbledore standing there.

"Ah, Bella," said Voldemort, in as warm a voice as could issue from his cold face. "I thought you might like to greet our young guest. Or rather, I thought he might like to greet you."

Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Harry knew this was mere manipulation. She was here to distract and tempt Harry, to draw him away from his battle with Voldemort.

Somewhere, Harry knew this. But the most basic and primal urges of his soul knew no logic. Bellatrix had killed Sirius, and Harry's resultant bloodlust against her was greater than he was. He only wanted to know that she was in pain that he was the cause of it. And when she begged him for mercy and saw the error of her ways, he wanted to look into her eyes as he denied it, and gave her death instead. He hadn't realized until that moment how he had simmered in his own rage for nearly a year.

Something inside him burst without warning.

He was hardly aware that he was running, that she was laughing as she ran away, that Dumbledore, Link and Sheik were calling his name. He only saw that Bellatrix was here and alive when Sirius wasn't, and that this was not how it should have been. He heard only his own pounding pulse in his ears, his own fury beating through his mind…

"Harry!" shouted Link, reaching to grab at the teenager's arm, but missing. He moved to go after him, but stopped when he heard the laugh that never failed to send a surge of wrath coursing through his blood.

"So," Ganondorf chuckled humourlessly, "that is the boy who is to follow in your footsteps? The one foolhardy enough to run straight into the arms of death in a futile quest for someone he loves? I must say, the resemblance between you is certainly striking."

Link didn't speak. His jaw was set as he trembled with rage from head to toe; there was nothing he could say that could adequately express the centuries of hatred he had built up against this man…who had cost him everything…who had devastated his world… and his family…so many times…

For the last time, restored to their first incarnations, they would face each other in combat.

Finally, Link raised his sword to point directly at his nemesis and said in a forced tone, "I will send you back to the creators, and make Their world a better place forever by taking you out of it."

"Going to send me to hell, are you?" Ganon smirked. "I'll be sure to give your wife and daughters my love."

The same force which had driven Harry after Bellatrix now sent Link across the room within a second, sword flashing like lightning so that Ganon had to jump out of the way to dodge it. The other three in the room stood back; Voldemort watched with a calculating look in his cold eyes, Dumbledore kept his gaze locked onto Link's face, and Sheik stood poised with the tension of a predatory animal to jump into the battle the instant he was needed.

After dodging Link's first attack, Ganon launched one of his own, striking out with one of his fists, charged with magical power. Link swerved to avoid the blow, stabbing his blade forward, but Ganon knocked it aside with the back of his other hand before lunging forward and knocking the Hylian to the floor on his back. Rolling with the attack, Link caught Ganon in the stomach with both feet as the evil king dived forward to assault him further, using the larger man's weight against him to send him flying overhead. Ganon almost landed hard on his back, but skilfully summoned his powers of levitation to stop his own fall and land lightly as Link sprang up to his feet again. But even as the Hero turned around to face his opponent, the evil king delivered him a vicious kick to the face. The dizzying blow sent him flying back.

Sheik bit back his scream as Link, his immaterial weight insubstantial compared to Ganondorf's, slammed flat into the wall. He tried to regain his footing, but his legs clearly wouldn't support his weight. Cackling wickedly, Ganondorf strode forward in victory as Link slowly crumpled to the floor, the Master Sword slipping from his grip.

"I'm going to enjoy this…" he growled, hauling Link back to his feet by the collar to shove him back up against the wall. "Finally, crushing the life out of you once and for all… It has been a pleasure denied me for too long…"

It was against every urge in Sheik's body to stand back and watch this without helping, but for some reason, Link was sending one constant thought to him: ::Not yet… Don't do anything yet…::

But Sheik doubted Link even knew what he was doing now. He was groping over his shoulder for the hilt of his sword, apparently forgetting completely that it was lying on the floor at Ganon's feet.

::Link,:: he though desperately, as Ganon drew back his fist and charged it with fiery purple magic that could deliver a blow of unimaginable force, ::please just let me—::

::Now!::

If Sheik hadn't been used to combat, he would have been too surprised to react to the order; as it was, he kept his head enough to leap forward and thrust out both hands with a blast of magic far greater than Ganondorf's. As he did, he saw that Link hadn't been reaching for his missing sword, but for his quiver, from which he had drawn a Light Arrow, to drive by hand into Ganon's throat.

The magic radiating from Link's arrow and Sheik's hands seized Ganon at the same time, enveloping him in deadly a force field of yellow light and energy. He roared in fury and pain, glowing too brightly for either Dumbledore or Voldemort to look directly at, and released Link without noticing it. The Hylian warrior dropped to his feet nimbly and grabbed his blade off of the floor, any trace of injury or weakness gone from his eyes. As Sheik continued to hold Ganon in place with magic, Link sheathed his sword to draw another arrow, this time along with his bow.

"Sorry, Ganon," he commented, calmly taking aim against the helpless Dark Lord that had now fallen to his knees; this was how he was always to die, with the magic of the Sages holding him down for the magic of the Master Sword to destroy him utterly. "But I'm afraid you can't crush the life out of a soul. You could never have won this fight."

"What?"

Ganon's voice was venomous, as he managed to crane his neck around to look at his ally. Voldemort remained utterly calm, his pitiless red eyes fixed on Ganon with as much mercy as he would have shown anyone who tried to oppose him.

"You…" the Gerudo king choked, "you knew this…and you would send me to my death…"

"I cannot possess your piece of the Triforce while you live, Ganon," Voldemort replied unconcernedly. "You must die, and take these children with you, so that those of us present can receive our destinies."

Link's eyes, focused on aiming his arrow, widened in sudden horror. Those of us present…

::Harry!::

Harry had never run so fast and so tirelessly, tearing down the hall after her with no regard for who or what he was colliding with and flinging out of the way, ally or enemy, as he went.

Bellatrix ran through a large set of grand double doors, and Harry heard the deadbolt slide into place. With vicious, bitter satisfaction, he wondered just how weak she thought he was.

"Reducto!" he shouted, but the force of his emotions was so strong that he was practically crackling with magical energy already, and the spell was exploding from him even as he said the incantation. It didn't just blast a hole in the doors; it reduced them, with a blast of bomb-like force, to rubble. He saw the form of a person lying in the destruction as the dust settled, and slowly moved towards it, wand at the ready. He knew better than to think that she was dead. Besides, he hadn't even given her a taste of what she deserved…

She was lying on her stomach, her arms over her head protectively, evidently having dived for cover. When Harry approached, she rolled over sharply with an evil, victorious grin on her face—it flickered only slightly when she saw that Harry was ready for her, his glare murderous.

"What do you think you're going to do to me, little baby Potter?" she asked sneeringly. Harry saw her hand moving through the wreckage, feeling for her wand, which lay only inches away from her fingertips. Without a word, without looking away from her, moving perfectly calmly despite how he quivered internally with pent-up rage, he took one step and placed his weight firmly onto the wand. It quietly snapped beneath his heel, the sound distinct despite the roaring white noise of combat nearby.

Bellatrix froze, and though she still betrayed no fear on her face, he could see her mind working quickly to think of a way to get herself out of this. She didn't move, and neither did Harry, though he kept his wand aimed directly at her face.

Then she made a sudden move to leap to her feet, and Harry bellowed automatically, "Crucio!"

He had tried this spell on her before, and it hadn't worked. But his grief had been too fresh then to let him focus properly on how much he wanted to make her feel pain. She had said that such a desire was important. Now he had it. Now the spell came effortlessly, and she was screaming, her body rigid and twitching where she had collapsed again in the debris. He found himself bearing his teeth in a twisted hybrid between a grimace and a smile. He found himself enjoying this…

::Harry!::

His concentration snapped as suddenly as if Link's thoughts had cut off his power source. Bellatrix fell limp. She was not dead, nor unconscious, but so weak that she didn't move, except to breathe shakily. Harry blinked and tried to pull his mind back onto a rational plane.

::Link…aren't you fighting?:: he managed to think.

::It's ending, Harry. You have to come here, now.:: The urgency was sincere and obvious.

::Yes…::

Though his mind was suspended in bewilderment, he knew he couldn't leave Bellatrix like this. She was starting to unsteadily pull herself up.

"Stupefy," said Harry bluntly. With a short cry of annoyance and surprise, she again fell limp.

Half of Harry's mind was still swirling with blank confusion as he ran back down the hall, filled with duelling Death Eaters and Order members whose faces he didn't take in, towards where he knew Link and Sheik had ended their battle. He had just used an Unforgivable Curse…and used it effectively…

"This is why you need to understand that Voldemort is a human—So that you know, when the time comes that you may hold his life in your hands, that anyone could have become what he has. You could have."

Unbidden, Dumbledore's words spoke in Harry's mind, in a very different manner from how Link's did, but just as real.

When he appeared in the doorway to Voldemort's chamber, Harry could feel the tangible tension in the room, so intense that it was like the heat of the sun and drove him to stay away from its nucleus. The energy of the Triforce quivered through the air as its three parts stood so close they could nearly touch. Ganon was on the ground, fighting with all his strength against the throbbing yellow light that held him down. It had its source from Sheik, who knelt nearby with his hands held out towards their target, though his disguise was coming loose and Zelda was visible beneath it; the effort of the prolonged spell had rendered her unable to stand by her own power. Link was standing over Ganon, his bow bent and nocked with a Light Arrow that was straining to fly to its target; though the Master Sword was sheathed on his back, Harry could still sense the weapon's burning desire to find its mark, charged to kill.

Harry took in all of this in one instant—so brief he didn't even have time to see what Voldemort and Dumbledore were doing—for in the next, Link let out a cry of relief and released his arrow. With a startlingly loud ringing sound, it struck Ganon in the chest, just below his collarbone, and he let out an agonized bellow. Even as he did, Link drew his sword on the rebound of releasing the bowstring, and it lunged out as if of its own accord. Harry saw and heard jarring chunks of the scene as it barraged his senses overpoweringly.

Link struck repeatedly, all the physical strength of his soul straining into this one task—

Ganon roared like a dying animals as the blade sank into his back, between his ribs—

Sheik, now clearly Zelda, gave a faint gasp and lost consciousness altogether as her spell ended and she fell, limp, to the thinly carpeted floor—

Voldemort shouted something—

Dumbledore shouted, too—

Harry didn't have time to react to either one—

And then he felt completely winded, as green light overtook him like a hurricane, and he was helpless to resist…it surged through his body with such force that he thought it impossible that he wasn't dying…and yet, somehow, it didn't hurt…

Managing to compose himself enough to look around, Harry saw that he was not the only one suspended in time and space like this. Link, too, was barely visible at the centre of a blinding mass of green energy where he had collapsed next to Ganon, who was engulfed in red; Zelda, a few feet away, was unbearably bright blue, like Dumbledore, who stood just behind her; across the room, the same red light that consumed Ganon also held Voldemort.

Harry felt a strange sensation on the back of his right hand—it burned, but it wasn't painful. Looking down, he saw the insignia of the Triforce appearing there…the lower right triangle was becoming brighter…

Though he couldn't see, Harry knew that the back of Link's left hand must have been burning the same way as his triangle faded…

Even if he had been able to move, Harry wouldn't have been able to think clearly enough to act as the Triforce of Courage coursed through him, filling him until he thought that he would scream just to relieve some of the energy. It was like music, so loud, so bass, so treble, so all-consuming, that he felt rather than heard it. It crescendoed, an adrenaline rush so intense it made him feel ill—

Then it dropped, so sharply and without warning that Harry would have fallen over if not for the fact that the force field of green had not relinquished its hold on him. But, like the telepathic connection with Link, the feeling was still there on some level.

Even though Link wasn't.

Everything became real again as the green light faded entirely. Ganon's lifeless body, grotesquely slaughtered, remained, his blood soaking the carpet around it, but Link and Zelda were completely gone. All that was left as proof of their existence were the brilliantly clean Master Sword and the bright gold Triforce pendant. The world, which had slowed down for the transfer of divine magic, was rapidly returning to its normal pace.

Harry sprang forward and grabbed the Master Sword from where it lay next to Ganon's corpse, barely having time to marvel inwardly that the sight of this violence didn't make him sick and disgusted, and felt its blue and gold scabbard materialize on his back, alongside his quiver and bow. He heard Dumbledore call, "Accio!" and saw the pendant fly to his hand.

It was then that the reality of the situation struck Harry full force—he was standing in a room with Voldemort, armed with the legendary weapons necessary to defeat the Triforce of Power, and with the Courage of the goddesses enriching his soul.

And he was completely, miraculously, unafraid.

Voldemort laughed, in a high, cold way that didn't send chills up Harry's spine. "Do you suppose you can face and defeat me with your sword, Potter?"

But Harry wasn't stupid. He knew there was no way he could win this fight yet. Not while Voldemort had his own Triforce piece, combined with the strength of the Unforgivable Curses, not while Harry was still learning to use his own tools. They had passed on the conflict from the people of Hyrule to the people of the new world. Harry had done what he had come to do. The task now was to get out alive, so that he could return to fight another day, when he could win.

And there was still Bellatrix—He would not let her get away.

Without a word, he ran again from the room, ignoring the fact that both Voldemort and Dumbledore shouted after him.

In the hall again, Harry took in his surroundings for the first time. Death Eaters and Order members had fallen around him, some that he recognized, some that he didn't, but he didn't look closely at any of them. His eyes raked the crowd, for he knew that she would have freed herself from his Stunning Spell by now, and spotted his target on the landing of the wide stairway one floor below. She was engaged in combat with Remus, somehow having gotten a wand, probably confiscated from one of the fallen fighters. Her name growled across Harry's mind: Bellatrix…

Before he could move to bolt down the stairs after her, a figure Apparated before him. With a wave of annoyance at the interruption, Harry noticed that it was Voldemort. He also noticed, on some level amid his tumultuous fury, how odd it was to feel not even the slightest trace of fear, but merely complete confidence.

"I'm not afraid of you," he snapped irritably. "You can't do anything that would scare me or hurt me. Not anymore."

"Oh, no?" Voldemort laughed coldly. "Let's find out if you're right…Avada kedavra!"

"Protego!"

The spell flew from Harry's lips before he even thought about it. His instincts knew exactly what to do. The jet of deadly light ricocheted away, and Voldemort swerved to dodge it, so that it shot across the room and gouged a hole in the opposite wall from which flames licked. Harry calmly calculated the situation as he felt his Shield Charm tremble, and a wave of weakness, nausea and pain strike him; though he didn't die, he knew he needed more effective protection. The killing curse was supposed to be impossible to block, and Harry suspected that it tested even the limits of the Triforce itself to do so.

Voldemort, too, appeared to be evaluating the situation at light speed. However, he showed no trace of concern, but only anger that Harry had managed to escape the spell.

"So you've picked up a thing or two under Dumbledore's instruction," he observed. "But you'll need more than that. Crucio!"

This time, still without so much as needing to think, by reflex, Harry swung the Master Sword vertically to deflect the curse, just as Link had done so many times. Even as he did, he jumped sideways and made to run forward, in an attempt to step past Voldemort and make his way down the stairs, but of course it couldn't be that easy. The Cruciatus Curse cracked the hardwood floor where Voldemort had been standing, but he had already moved to block Harry, reaching out to catch him around the chest. The Dark Lord flung his young opponent backwards by hand so that Harry staggered and fell.

"And the Hero taught you to fight, too," he growled, eyes on fire, advancing on Harry where he now lay, frozen, sprawled on the hallway floor. "And still, it won't be enough."

But Harry was still not afraid. He couldn't be. He was a True Hero. He was the descendant of Sir Link I Hero, son of Farore, and possessed of the Triforce of Courage.

And the Triforce of Wisdom supported him, as well. From the room he had just left, Harry heard Dumbledore's voice shout an incantation he couldn't make out, and a jet of pale light shot toward Voldemort. To dodge the assault, he Disapparated, and the place where he had been standing was encased in ice when Dumbledore's spell struck it. Harry, glad that the stairway was now free, leapt to his feet and sprinted forward, leaping onto the banister and sliding down it skilfully to escape any other spells Voldemort might have flung after him, but the one remaining Dark Lord now had his attentions focused on the only man he deemed worthy of his fear.

"Harry, no!"

Harry barely registered Remus' voice as he alighted and practically flew at Bellatrix in an incoherent rage. He didn't register that Voldemort had stopped firing spells at him, or that Dumbledore was neither backing him up nor holding him back, or that no one from either side was nearby, as they all were now rushing downstairs for some reason. But he had to notice Link.

::Stop, Harry!::

"I won't!" he shouted, the words thundering through his mind and his voice alike as he raised his wand. "Stupefy!"

"This isn't your fight!" came Remus' voice, as he continued to engage Bellatrix. "Impedimenta! Just get out!"

Ducking spells on two fronts and armed with a wand that wasn't hers, Bellatrix had no chance of launching an effective offensive of her own.

::Stop!::

"No!" Harry insisted furiously. "I have to…I have to! Locomotor mortis!"

Two jets of magic struck Bellatrix in the chest at once, one from Harry, another from Remus. Her legs snapped together, as a result of the first, and the second struck her a blow to the side of the head that knocked her down.

This was the moment. Harry's brain pounded with satisfaction at this victory. He felt as if he were in a dream, his body not really his own, as he moved forward, raising the Master Sword over her as she gasped for breath, watching his with wide eyes, unable to clamber back to her feet.

::Sirius says stop.::

Harry felt his heart and his stomach turn over. ::What?::

::Your father says stop. Your mother says stop.::

::How—Why—::

::I'm here with them, and they all just want you not to kill her.::

Harry felt dizzy, and closed his eyes against the pain. He knew Link had to be telling the truth…but he didn't want to believe it…

::No,:: he insisted, with all that remained of his strength. ::She…she killed Sirius! She deserves this!::

::No,:: Link contradicted him firmly. ::She deserves more than to be slaughtered like an animal without first understanding her crimes.::

::She knows what she did.::

::But she doesn't understand.::

::No,:: Harry thought, yet again. ::I mean—yes. She knows why…She knows what…::

::Remember the Shrieking Shack?::

This question was so unexpected that Harry almost dropped the sword that he still held raised over the helpless woman at his feet. Lowering it slightly, he thought numbly, ::What?::

::Sirius says, remember in the Shrieking Shack two or three years ago, when you stopped him and Moony killing Wormtail? You didn't think your father would have wanted his best friends to become killers.::

Harry couldn't breathe.

::Well, your father doesn't want his son to become a killer, either.::

Harry became aware of the silent tears streaming down his face unchecked, though his eyes were still closed, and he made no move to dry them. His arms, holding the Master Sword before him, began to tremble violently. His right hand throbbed.

::Please,:: he begged, thinking not only to Link, ::let me end this…::

::Not like this, Harry.::

All the energy drained out of Harry's body at once as the overwhelming desire to just give up flooded him. Eyes still closed, he dropped his head back, nearly dropping his sword, and would have sunk to his knees if a firm grip hadn't seized him by the arm and pulled him away.

"Come on, Harry!"

Remus, who sounded urgent and alarmed…

Suddenly, Harry realized he was hot…

Opening his eyes, taking in his surroundings, Harry's heart leapt to his throat when he realized why nothing had interrupted his conversation with Link—everyone had fled the building, which was being overtaken by flame.

"What—?" Harry began to ask, but he remembered the answer before he completed the question; the deflected Avada Kedavra curse had set fire to one of the walls, and now it was spreading.

From somewhere, he found the energy to run, alongside Remus, out of the building. A corner of his mind screamed that Bellatrix still lay in the rubble, but another part thought he had seen, in the split second before he had started running, that she was gone…perhaps she had Disapparated during the period when Harry hadn't been watching her…or Voldemort might have somehow gotten all of his followers out with him…

All he really knew was that he and Remus had burst out of the front door now, onto the lawn and out into the fresh air; the wind felt alarmingly and wonderfully cold against his skin and tearing through his hair. He looked back only briefly, in time to see the flames beginning to whip into sight, precluded by clouds of sinister smoke. The Riddle House would never survive.

Only when they were both out and safe did Remus release his grip on Harry, who mechanically sheathed his sword on his back. He stood still a moment longer, then wiped his tears with the back of his hand, taking in the smell of the smoke on his body as he did so. Somehow, this filled him with another throbbing pang of grief, and he buried his face in his hands to escape it, pressing against his eyes, willing all the pain that ached inside him to just slip out as his tears were so easily doing even now. He heard himself moan quietly.

Someone was embracing him with warm arms, pulling him against a warm heart that was beating a hard, fierce rhythm just like that of his own; it was Remus again, and Harry curled up against him like a lost child.

Once, there had been the unstoppable Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Now, all that remained of their shattered legacy was a man isolated, deprived and aged beyond his years, and a teenage boy being crushed from within by his own identity. They had each other, and at that moment, both felt they had nothing else.