Chapter Nine: Saving Grace
The day before Halloween, it began to rain.
It wasn't a gentle, soothing autumn rain; this was torrential, pouring down from the skies with a vengeance and power unseen before by many. And as Harry stood in the entrance hall, surrounded by nervous Aurors, he watched the rain come down from the open doors and felt quite like the weather. He felt as if he would burst forth at any moment and pour down upon all in his path without mercy.
He knew the spell by heart now; he had spent the last two days in his room memorizing it, feeling the power within its words. His room had become a refuge for him as the forces of Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore swarmed upon the castle, replacing the young students who had been sent away by Portkey, as the Hogwarts Express was likely to be attacked if put to use. The Weasley brothers had all come up to greet him, usually on the way to visit Ginny. Bill and Charlie had asked if he wanted to join them, but he refused; seeing Ginny again would do things to his mindset that he didn't want to happen.
He could see Arthur Weasley and Professor McGonagall coming through the door, Arthur carrying a limp form and McGonagall directing him towards the stairway to the Hospital Wing. Curious, he came closer. Mr. Weasley found his gaze, and called him over.
"Harry, help an old man, will you?"
Going to the older man, Harry saw the pale and bloodied face of the person he was carrying, and horror struck him.
It was Tonks.
"What happened?" he blurted, taking Tonks from Mr. Weasley and walking beside him as he hurried towards the stairs.
Mr. Weasley wiped his brow, worry creasing his face. "Ron didn't tell you? She was at St. Mungo's when the Death Eaters attacked. I don't know how she got here alive; I found her at the gates. I would have levitated her, but she's in such a condition that I didn't want to use magic," he explained as they rounded a corner, skirting past a few flustered Aurors.
Harry nodded, trying to adjust his grip on Tonks to avoid further injury. "I understand," he said, hoping that Tonks would be all right. He had avoided seeing her since Remus' death, but he didn't want her to die. The world hurt enough as it was.
He felt Mr. Weasley's gaze on him as they walked together. "How are you, Harry? We haven't had an opportunity to speak in a long while," he said quietly.
Stomach clenching, Harry glued his eyes to the floor. "I'm ready for this to be over," he said fiercely.
Mr. Weasley sighed softly. "As am I. I can only hope the cost is not as great as last time. We've already lost so many."
They were nearing the Hospital Wing, which was buzzing with Aurors and medi-wizards; Madam Pomfrey looked quite flustered as they walked in, but her face changed immediately as she saw the woman in Harry's arms.
"Oh good heavens! Place her on a bed, quickly!"
Harry did as she directed, acutely aware of the girl watching him from the bed next to Tonks. Someone gasped; he looked to the side to see Hermione at Ginny's bedside. His friend looked very pale, he noted, and he expected she hadn't been sleeping much.
"She's alive?" she asked, coming to Harry's side. Her hand brushed his elbow, and he jumped slightly, having not felt her friendly hand in many days.
He nodded as Mr. Weasley placed a hand on Hermione's arm. "She'll be fine, Hermione," he said quietly, leading her over to Ginny's bedside. "Tell me how you've been."
Hermione began to speak, casting glances at Harry as Mr. Weasley leaned over and kissed his bed-ridden daughter in welcome. Ginny smiled weakly, but Harry could see her concern and unhappiness in her eyes. He watched them silently, feeling out of place. In what seemed like another lifetime, he would have sat on Ginny's bed, held her hand, and talked to Hermione in return.
And he suddenly missed how it might have been. Sometimes, he didn't like the hate that fueled his life; he wanted to feel loved and love in return.
One of the walls that surrounded his heart began to crumble, little by little, as he watched this tiny circle of love in the face of death. Once, Ginny met his eyes, and in the darkness he saw hints of her pain at his hands, the betrayal she felt from him; but he also saw love, all-encompassing love that filled her face. Her acceptance shamed him; he had been the one to give up in the face of adversity. He was the coward, for all his readiness to fight Voldemort to the death.
There was a small commotion at the entrance to the wing. Harry turned his head to see Charlie Weasley come in, looking very pale under his bright freckles. Instead of going to Ginny's bed, as Harry thought he was going to, he went to Tonks' bedside, taking her small hand in his rough one. Harry watched in surprise, and he could almost feel Hermione and Ginny's shock from behind. He hadn't realized Charlie and Tonks were so close.
"She'll be all right, won't she Madam Pomfrey?" Charlie asked, pale as a ghost.
Madam Pomfrey huffed, waving at another medi-wizard for assistance. "I think so, Mr. Weasley. But you can't just sit there! I need to get to her. Please stand over by your sister," she directed firmly.
Charlie got up, albeit reluctantly, and moved towards his sister, casting looks at Tonks' prone form as Madam Pomfrey and an older medi-wizard bent over her. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry thought he saw a flash of guilt in his friend's brother's eyes as he gazed at him. A pulse of anger shook him; and why shouldn't he be guilty? Remus had only been gone for four months!
"Good friends with Tonks, are you?" he asked, a little more loudly than he had planned.
Stopping to face Harry, Charlie looked him in the eye without fear. "It's not like that, Harry. We've been friends for ages; I knew her at school," he said. "I was worried about her."
Harry nodded curtly, about to leave when Charlie caught his arm roughly. "You should understand this a little; how long did my sister wait for you?" he asked quietly, so only Harry could hear him. "She waited years, and still loved you no matter what you did. I've waited, too."
He paused, boring into Harry's fixed gaze. "I'm not happy that Remus died, not at all; he was a good man. Tonks still cries for him at night. But she's trying to move on and still keep his memory within her. I don't think I'm hurting Remus' memory; I think he would say this was the right thing for the both of us," he said slowly.
Harry was blown away by Charlie's words, feeling small and insignificant next to him. Tonks was trying to move on; who was he to begrudge her any happiness? Remus had even said he wanted her to move on in her life before he had died. And Charlie understood her needs; if there was anyone he needed to be more like, it was Charlie.
Nodding, he pulled away from Charlie. "I'm sorry," he said with real sincerity. "I understand what you mean."
His gaze met Ginny's, and for a moment he wanted to cross the room and take her hand in his, tell her that everything would be all right. But that was not for this moment.
So he walked away after a brief goodbye to Charlie, wondering if he was just making excuses to keep his pain and hate. And he didn't go to the entrance hall to see if he could help; he went back to his room, which helped him not. All he could think of when he sat on his bed were the all-too brief nights he and Ginny had spent here, the love she had professed to him hundreds of times, each time as wonderful to hear as the last.
He wanted to keep his hate, wanted to keep from feeling his grief, his love, his bonds to his friends; but he could feel a wall slowly slipping away from his heart, and it frightened him more than Voldemort ever could.
Tonks was awake and coherent in just a few hours; she chatted with Ginny as they sat side by side in their beds, Madam Pomfrey fussing over them both. Ginny tried to make friendly conversation, but she found it hard, after seeing Harry so abruptly this morning. She had looked into his eyes and seen the longing and need that had been prevalent in his gaze before Remus' death and her illness. And after his quiet talk with Charlie, she had prayed he would come over and say something-anything-to her, but he had left as suddenly as he arrived.
She thought he might be coming back to himself, albeit slowly. From what Hermione had told her this morning, he had locked himself in his room for about two days, and had just come out now. He was talking to people, which was a start; her father had remarked with sadness on how closed-up he seemed. She could only shrug her shoulders; what was she supposed to tell her father? That Harry had gone mad with rage?
Above anything, she wished Madam Pomfrey would let her get out of bed and help. She felt so useless, lying in the Hospital Wing with no curable illness; she wanted to help her brothers, her father; she wanted to help Harry. Whatever he did, she wanted to help him. She knew that he wasn't going to be able to beat Voldemort by himself; who better to help than she? But Madam Pomfrey was adamant about her staying in the Hospital Wing, and she had to settle for that.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear Tonks calling her name. When the older woman reached over and nudged her arm, she came back to herself, smiling weakly at the injured Auror. "Sorry, Tonks; what were you saying?"
Blue eyes narrowed at her, Tonks sat back against her pillow. "I was just asking about Harry. How is he doing?"
Ginny felt her throat close up, and she swallowed with difficulty. "He's very angry right now," she said softly. "He's not thinking clearly."
"I guess he didn't retain my little talk about anger in the Orkneys, did he?" Tonks asked with a frown.
Tilting her head, Ginny gazed at Tonks curiously. "What talk? I didn't know you were there with him."
Shrugging, Tonks took a sip of a glass of water from her bedside table. "Harry was doing stupid things out of the anger he was feeling from your capture, so I tried to talk to him about acting out of anger, and how it doesn't get a person anywhere. I thought he was listening, but maybe I was wrong," she said quietly.
Ginny watched her quietly for a moment, remembering the fuss Charlie had made over her. Her heart had ached for that from Harry; it was what he would have done, if he hadn't been so full of his guilt and rage. She wondered if the thought had crossed his mind as he had watched her brother hold Tonks' hand; his eyes had locked onto them unwaveringly.
"I'm glad you got away, Tonks," she said suddenly, feeling the pang of loss in her heart; she knew Harry was lost to her now. "We all were very worried, especially Charlie."
A light blush filled Tonks' face, and she looked away from Ginny. "It's not exactly what you think. Charlie's always been my friend, and he was really supportive of me after Remus died," she murmured.
She was silent, and Ginny was nearly ready to change the subject; Remus must still be painful for the Auror to think about, as it was for Ginny. But then Tonks began to speak again, voice shakier and softer than before.
"I had a dream about him a few weeks ago. He came to me, and he looked younger and happier than I had ever seen him in life." She paused, sniffing quietly. "He told me that he wanted me to be happy, and that he was glad that I was trying to move on. He told me to be there for Harry, if I could. And then I saw Sirius..."
Wiping her eyes, she began to cry silently. Ginny, listening as if entranced, reached over to clasp her friend's hand. She felt the pricking of tears behind her own eyes as Tonks spoke again.
"They looked peaceful, and happy; they told me to be happy. And I woke up feeling graced and better than I had in months," she said thickly, wiping her face with her free hand. "And I wanted to tell Harry that they were watching him, and that they were happy."
Ginny squeezed her hand, swallowing her tears back into her throat. "He'd want to know that," she said hoarsely. "Harry would want to know."
Tonks smiled, cheeks wet with her tears. "I thought he would. I hope I can tell him before... Well, before everything," she said. "Do you think he'll be up here to visit you?"
Hurt sprang anew in her chest, pounding against her ribs. She shut her eyes for a moment before opening them again, hoping they were free of tears. "I don't know," she replied, voice catching. "I hope so."
Tonks squeezed her hand tightly just as Charlie walked in through the doors, smiling at Tonks. Ginny let go of her friend's hand with a slight smile, and turned to look out the dark window. Rain splintered against the glass, falling like tears from the black sky. She put her hand to the glass, looking down and seeing little figures rushing around the grounds below. She wondered if Harry was one of them, and the breath caught in her throat. The thought of Harry preparing for battle frightened her; she didn't want to send him off without her blessing.
"Please," she whispered softly, so no one but herself could hear. "Please don't let him fight without him knowing I love him. Let him come see me."
Wiping sweat from her brow, Hermione stood with her partners and surveyed her work with a grim smile. It had been hard, but she had been able to do it; extra protective wards around the Hospital Wing had been a sudden idea that she had blurted out to the headmaster, who had thought it wonderful. Just in case Death Eaters did get into the castle, the extra wards would be a good way to keep the injured from further harm. Now he, herself, Ron, Harry, and other Aurors and students had worked together to build the wards. No Death Eater could get into the wing now; the wounded would be safe. Dumbledore would have Portkeys made to take any wounded directly up here, and no enemy could follow them.
Dumbledore smiled wearily at her. "Brilliant, Miss Granger. Good work, all of you! This is sure to keep our injured friends safe," he said, nodding at all of them in turn.
Ron put a subtle hand on her waist and squeezed gently. "I knew you'd come up with something," he whispered in her ear.
She smiled with the praise, but soon her smile faded as her eyes met Harry's. He was watching them with a careful eye, something unreadable in his gaze. Ever since this morning in the Hospital Wing, she had detected a change within him, even if it was only the slightest bit. Maybe now, she could reach out and bring him back to her and Ron. After all, what was one without the other two?
There were rapid footsteps coming down the corridor, and a young Auror Hermione recalled to be Kingsley Shacklebolt's cousin appeared, panting heavily. "We've just gotten word from one of our scouts; some of You-Know-Who's forces have been spotted near here. He could be here by dawn!" he exclaimed between breaths.
The eyes of the headmaster hardened into ice; he turned to the group clustered near him. "Please go and see if there is anything you can do to help the Aurors," he said gravely.
The group began to disperse, but she and Ron stayed glued to their spots, as did Harry. The three of them glanced at each other carefully; Hermione could feel Ron tense beside her, and knew he was preparing for another brush-off from their oldest friend. She wasn't about to let that happen; not this close to battle.
"Harry," she said quietly, stepping towards him. "Will you walk with us?"
She reached her hand out to him, smiling slightly. Harry looked at her for a moment, dark eyes impenetrable. She was afraid he was going to brush her off, but then he moved towards her slowly, reaching out and taking her hand. His hand was rough and cool in hers, but she was happy to have it no matter what.
Ron came over, face grave. He looked as if he wanted to embrace Harry, but restrained himself. "You think you're ready for this?" he asked gruffly.
Harry met his friend's eyes, pulled away from Hermione for a moment, and put his arms around Ron's back, hugging him as a brother.
"Almost," Hermione heard him say softly as Ron returned the embrace. She felt wetness in her eyes as she watched them; they were finally a trio again, able to fight side by side. It would take a long time for the wounds to heal, but at least they were on the right path.
Ron smiled at her from over Harry's shoulder, and reached out to her. She joined the embrace, relishing the solid forms of her two best friends. They were her rocks, just as she was theirs; together they were unstoppable.
"Shall we walk?" she asked, meeting both of their gazes.
They nodded, and the embrace broke apart. Ron went on one side of her, slipping his arm around her waist, and Harry went on her other side. She put her elbow through his, and they began to walk in unison.
"So it begins at dawn," Ron said. "I wonder what kind of forces he'll have."
She shuddered slightly. "I don't want to think about it."
"I found a spell, you know," Harry said quietly.
Hermione looked up at him. "We thought you might have, when you talked to Dumbledore a couple days ago," she replied.
He sighed; it rippled through him to her skin and Ron's. It was a sigh of someone resigned to his fate, and she got a sudden chill. "It calls upon his victims to help me fight him," he said as they turned a corner. "I think I'll see my parents, and Sirius. And Remus."
The old grief of Remus' death filled her, and she had to blink away sudden tears. Ron inhaled deeply beside her, and she knew he was feeling the same. "Do you think it'll work?" he asked.
"It needs to. It's all I've got."
Harry's despondent reply shook her, and she stopped them for a moment, meeting his dark eyes. "You have us," she said firmly. "We won't leave you. We'll help you beat him."
"Of course we will," Ron said roughly.
"And you have Ginny, too," Hermione added, watching the shadows of Harry's face at the mention of Ginny's name.
"I don't have Ginny," he muttered, turning his face towards the stone wall. Hermione could hear the fall of rain against the roof of the castle, and it only added to the morose mood. She couldn't believe what she had heard from his mouth, and was about to open her mouth to retort his words, but Ron beat her to it.
"Of course you have Ginny," he said, voice strong with passion. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "She's been railing to Madam Pomfrey to let her get up and help you, Harry. She would do anything to help you right now."
Hermione squeezed Harry's elbow. "Ron's right. You're the only reason she hasn't given up everything. You should go see her," she said earnestly. "She wants to see you."
Abruptly, Harry slammed his fist against the wall. "She shouldn't want to see me," he said savagely, bowing his head. "I've done her nothing but wrong ever since she got sick; I've been a complete bastard. She should hate me."
Hermione's heart broke for him, and she reached down and took his hand in hers. Ron tightened his grip on his shoulder. "She could never hate you, Harry," he said, voice breaking slightly. "She loves you enough to forgive you for what you've done; she knows it wasn't the real you."
Thunder rolled above their heads; Hermione shivered. She wondered if Harry was listening to their words, or if there was enough hate left inside his mind to keep their voices from reaching him. She knew he was still raging, but she prayed he would follow his heart in this matter. Ginny was praying for the opportunity to give Harry her blessing before he went to battle; if only he would go to see her!
"Use your heart, Harry," she said softly and suddenly. "You know you want to see her. Go; dawn is only a few hours away, and who knows if you'll get another chance."
After a moment's tremulous silence, he raised his head and turned to them both, shaking his head. "I don't deserve you both, or her," he said softly.
Ron squeezed his shoulder. "You don't deserve to live in hate, either," he replied just as quietly.
Harry met their gazes, and Hermione could see a softening within his green eyes. Letting out a slow breath, he nodded. "I'll go now; will you wait for me?"
She and Ron nodded in unison. He gave them a quick, slight smile, and turned back towards the Hospital Wing, walking quickly and with purpose. Ron put his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head, and sighed. Curling into his warmth, she buried her face in his chest, listening to the storm raging above them.
He slipped into the Hospital Wing as lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the space for a moment. Ron and Hermione's words echoed in his mind as he went straight to Ginny's bed, standing at the end and looking down at her sleeping form with a sharp pang of regret. If this was to be his last glimpse of her, he wanted her to be awake, smiling at him and holding out her arms as she had done before. He had realized too late all of what she had done for him; he could only pray that he had done something for her in return.
He loved her. She had taught him how to love and not to fear the love of others.
And now he went to fight for her, of everything.
"Forgive me," he whispered, throat closing as the words escaped his mouth without preamble. "I've done everything wrong from the beginning, but I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to push you away. I'm a coward; I can't bring myself to wake you up so you can hear this. I can only pray you do hear it."
Moving silently, he went to her side, brushing his fingers lightly against her pale cheek. "I love you, Ginny Weasley," he said softly. "I would die for you."
With that, he leaned down and touched his mouth to her creased forehead, smoothing away the worry lines as gently as possible. "If I die," he whispered against her skin, "Learn to live. Be happy in your life. Don't forget me."
He straightened and gazed at her face one last time, memorizing the features he had grown to love. And because the yearning for her that had driven him up here was not satisfied, he lowered his head once more and pressed a kiss to her partly-open mouth, tasting her for the last time and treasuring every breath that left her lungs and entered his.
Pulling back, he watched her carefully, thinking he had felt her stir under him. She shifted in her sleep, moving but not waking. He stayed by her side for another moment, drinking in her face to keep it with him in the battle to come, and then went resolutely to the door. He did not look back as he left; he did not see her eyes open and hear her call his name softly.
Ron and Hermione were waiting for him exactly where he had left them, expectant looks on their faces. He nodded briefly, not willing to tell them that she had been asleep. The three of them traveled onward down the corridors, wands in their pockets and courage in their hearts. This was how he had always imagined going to fight Voldemort; he had always seen Ron and Hermione at his side. Now he realized how stupid he had been to try and shove them away; he wasn't nearly as strong alone as he was when he was with them.
He carried the image of Ginny's sleeping face in his mind as he walked further and further away from her. He could only hope he would come back to her and see her eyes open once again.
Harry stood outside the large doors of the entrance hall, rain beginning to soak through his robes, as the inky blackness of night began to fade into a muted grey. His wand was clenched in his fist tightly, eyes focused on the distant gates of the school. The waiting had begun a few hours earlier, and it was by far the worst part of this ordeal. Half of the forces amassed by Dumbledore were inside the gates of Hogwarts, and the other half had taken to deserted Hogsmeade to make the first stand. Many Order members, including Fred and George, were in that first force. Harry felt a sick sense of foreboding fill him; who knew what kind of army Voldemort had? What would they have to face?
Ron and Hermione were on one side of him, talking very quietly and holding hands. He tried to give them a little privacy; no doubt they were saying some last words of affection before the fighting began. Again, he wished he had had the courage to wake Ginny up; but what was done was done, and he could only look forward.
"I see you are at the ready, Harry."
Professor Dumbledore stepped to his other side, face set in grave lines. There was no bright twinkle in his eyes this morning, but Harry hadn't expected one. He straightened his back, meeting the headmaster's gaze. "I think I am, sir," he replied.
Distant shouts echoed around them; the wizards looked towards the village, seeing the flashes of spells light up the grey gloom. Harry tensed, taking a deep breath; Voldemort had arrived.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. Dumbledore was smiling slightly down at him, patting his shoulder. "I have no doubt that you will be a brilliant wizard, Harry; you have the talents of your parents and your own special talents to carry you through life."
As Harry listened to the headmaster, a morbid thought caught him and held him fast. This was Dumbledore's goodbye, in case the old man fell today. Grief filled him; another goodbye, another loss.
"I know that today you will face Voldemort, and you will defeat him. Why, you think? Because I know you fight with your heart, for those your care for," Dumbledore continued quietly, seemingly ignoring the shouts and explosions from the village. The wizards were becoming restless, looking to Dumbledore for direction, but he continued to speak to Harry.
"The reason you have overcome him so far is because of your heart; remember what he does not understand, and you shall be the most powerful person he has ever faced," he finished, letting go of Harry's shoulder and moving forward through the crowds.
Harry watched his tall, proud figure walk away, and felt graced by the warm spot on his shoulder where his hand had been. He had to make Dumbledore proud, a man who had so much faith in him. He had to make his parents, Sirius, and Remus proud, they who gave up their lives for his. He had to make Ginny proud; he had to come back for her.
A jet of yellow light went up in the distance; it was the signal Mad-Eye and Dumbledore had agreed upon for assistance. Dumbledore faced the wizards muttering before him and held his hands up for silence. Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm, squeezing gently as Dumbledore began to speak in a clear, resonating voice.
"My friends! Let us go into battle with the hearts of Gryffindors! There is nothing out there that you cannot defeat!" he exclaimed, turning and setting forth towards the gates.
Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron, and saw them set their faces in determination, wands at their sides. He smiled slightly; they returned the smile.
And they went from the castle, readying for the most important battle of their lives.
He had come to her.
He had come.
Ginny watched desperately as Tonks pulled her robes on over her hospital gown. The sky was beginning to lighten; she knew that the time was drawing near. Madam Pomfrey had protested mightily when Tonks said she was going down to the battle, but she could do nothing to stop the Auror. But Ginny, she said, was not to leave.
Ginny nearly throttled the nurse as she walked away. Not to go? She wasn't going to stay in here if she could help it. Harry had come, and he had told her he loved her, and that was all the strength she needed to get up. She felt as if she could fly for him.
If only Tonks would let her come!
"Tonks, please," she said quietly, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I have to go!"
Looking helpless, Tonks buttoned up her robes and pulled back her long black hair. "Madam Pomfrey said you were to stay, Ginny. You're truly ill," she replied.
Furious, Ginny pulled back the covers and sat up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. "Damn Madam Pomfrey!" she hissed. "Harry is down there, and if I don't help him, he won't come back!"
Her voice broke as she finished her sentence, and she had to turn away from the stricken Auror, eyes burning. She knew she had to go to him; it was instinct, and her instincts never lied. The thought of him dying without her being able to say goodbye... It was unthinkable.
"If you don't help me," she said, voice low, "I will jump out this window to get down there."
Meeting Tonks' eyes, she knew she had made an impression. "Do you have your wand?" Tonks asked quietly.
Hand diving under her pillow, she pulled out her wand. Tonks sighed slowly, then nodded. "Ok, but stay by me! You have to be careful; Madam Pomfrey would kill me if she knew I was doing this," she fretted, going over to Ginny and helping her to her feet. "You can't stand for long periods of time! What are you going to do?"
Ginny gripped her wand, steadying her shaking legs. Her nightdress was thin; she could feel the chill of the air on her skin. But she was determined. "Anything I can," she said fiercely, looking into Tonks' eyes.
Sighing again, Tonks smiled slightly. "Harry's lucky to have you," she said softly before leading Ginny out of the wing, hurrying as not to be caught by Madam Pomfrey, whose back was turned to them.
Ginny's heart sped up as she left the Hospital Wing for the first time in weeks. I'm coming, Harry. I'm coming.
She was ready to face Tom for the final time.
Brushing his fringe back quickly, Harry took a few deep breaths, looking from side to side quickly. All around him, duels were commencing between Death Eaters and Aurors, giants were destroying buildings, and rain was falling steadily, helping to control the fires that had started. He tasted blood from a wound on his head in his mouth and swallowed, walking forward a few steps. Already he had been separated from Ron and Hermione by Death Eaters wishing to deliver him to their lord, and already he had killed.
He tried not to look at the ground, wet with rain and blood, afraid he would see someone he knew lying dead by his feet. Wiping the rain from his glasses, he continued his search for Voldemort, ducking spells and keeping his Shield Charm up all the while. He had yet to find any Malfoy, and hoped that Ron would have the pleasure of capturing the younger of the two Malfoy men.
He didn't know how long he had been fighting; the sky was grey with rain, and it didn't help his sense of time. The lack of sleep over the past few days was beginning to affect him, and he had to blink rapidly to keep his focus. At least the wards of Hogwarts hadn't been breached yet; Ginny was still safe.
"Harry!"
He whirled around, seeing Tonks running towards him. She looked bloodied and bruised, but much better than she had looked when he brought her to Madam Pomfrey yesterday.
"Tonks, what's wrong?" he asked quickly, seeing the fearful look in her eyes.
She opened her mouth to speak, but was caught in her side by a jet of red light. With a scream, she fell to the ground, quivering in pain. Harry went to his knees immediately, pulling out the Portkey Dumbledore had handed out to everyone in case of injury. As he was about to activate it, a cold, amused voice reached his ears.
"Well, if it isn't ickle Potter."
Looking up, he saw the sneering, twisted face of Bellatrix Lestrange standing over him, the blood lust rampant in her hard gaze. Immediately, bitter anger rose within him, drowning out everything else in his mind. He stood up, standing over Tonks' moaning form. This was the woman who had killed Sirius. He was finally going to have his revenge.
She smirked. "My poor little niece always was confused in her choices; first the Order, then that werewolf... I'm glad I'll be the one to correct her," she hissed, raising her wand. "But first you, Potter. I've waited to get my hands on you for years."
"You're not touching her, and you're not touching me," he retorted, wand clenched in his fist. "I'm going to make you pay for what you did to Sirius."
Laughing viciously, she moved a step closer to him. "Oh yes! My most glorious day, getting rid of that wretched cousin of mine," she crowed. "You'll be seeing him soon enough, you stupid boy."
If someone had told him that a year ago, that thought might have brought him comfort. But now there was only the cold calculating anger to fill him; no grief or guilt. Only the anger would help him kill Bellatrix and avenge the death of Sirius. "Glory? What do you know of glory? I've heard you beg for mercy, just as Voldemort will be tonight!" he spat.
The hate in her eyes flashed brightly. "Do not speak his name, worthless half-blood!" she screamed, aiming her wand and shouting the Cruciatus Curse at the top of her lungs.
He dodged the flash of red, coolly putting up his Shield Charm with his wand and using his wandless magic to cast a Severing Hex at her. Barely dodging it, she tried to stun him, but the spell bounced off of his shield and went flying through the air. With a scream of frustration, she leapt towards him, throwing hex after hex at him. Stepping backwards at the ferocity of her attack, he tried to regain his ground, but she had gone berserk with her rage. She actually reached out and shoved him to his knees, breaking his concentration on the Shield Charm and allowing her to cast a quick Cruciatus Curse upon him.
Pain seared him, exploding through his scar and out his fingers. Shutting his eyes, he let out a cry and curled into himself, red-hot pain ripping into him. He could hear her maniacal laughter as she pressed her wand against his heart, screaming at him above his cries.
"You shall fall at my hand, just as that cousin and the werewolf did! I shall torture you just as I did the werewolf, that filthy creature!" she exclaimed.
Deadly rage washed over him, numbing the pain and freeing his limbs. Eyes snapping open, he snarled and pushed against her, knocking her to her back. The grief and pain of Remus came at him triple-fold as he raised his wand and leveled it at her chest. "You'll pay for everything!" he cried, screaming "Crucio!" with true and unrestrained hate. He relished her screams, wanting every ion of pain he had ever felt to sink into her skin and kill her.
She began to scream for her husband, but he paid no mind, cursing her with his hoarse voice until he felt searing pain in his limbs and fell over, concentration lost. Looking up at he twitched in pain, he saw Rodolphos Lestrange hovering over him, wand loose in his hand. His wife still moaned on her back a few feet away, blood trickling down her face. Harry looked up through the stinging pain with absolute fury, enraged that he had not been paying attention.
Lestrange looked down on him, violence narrowing his eyes. "You will regret that, Potter," he said icily, leveling his wand at Harry's chest. "Avada-"
"Kedavra."
A quiet, rage-filled voice from behind Lestrange finished the curse. There was a flash of green light, and Lestrange froze, limbs stiffening. He crashed to the ground, dead, revealing the shaking form of Ginny Weasley standing behind him, wand outstretched. The look on her face was one of determination; she didn't flinch as she went to Harry and helped him to his feet.
Harry grasped her shoulders, staring into her eyes. Disbelief reined his mind; how had she had the strength to come down here to battle? He had misjudged her courage greatly; he had misjudged everything.
"Ginny, you shouldn't be here," he said hoarsely, throat rough from his cries, barely able to hear his own voice over the sounds of battle.
She looked up at him with a slight smile, taking his hands in her own. The look in her eyes could only be described as complete love and bravery. "I should be wherever you are," she replied softly.
"How touching, Virginia. I though we had learned our lesson about playing with Harry Potter."
The cold voice was no surprise to Harry as he and Ginny turned to see Voldemort standing before them, a calculating smile on his thin mouth. Harry felt Ginny falter slightly beside him and pushed her behind him, determined to keep her unharmed. "Leave her out of this, Tom," he said fiercely. "This is between you and me."
Voldemort's piercing red eyes narrowed. "Don't play the hero, Potter. We all know what happened the last time you tried that, or don't you remember Sirius Black?"
Hate overwhelmed Harry, and he nearly dove at Voldemort then. Only Ginny's tight grip on his hand kept him grounded. "Don't listen to him," she murmured. "You know he's wrong."
Her words kept him from bolting; he tried to regain control of himself. "It's hard not to play the hero when you're prophesized as one," he retorted coldly.
"Don't test me, you stupid boy. I could kill you where you stand," Voldemort threatened.
Harry laughed without amusement, tightening his grip on Ginny's hand. "Then why haven't you?" he taunted.
Voldemort sneered. "Don't be so eager for death, Potter, or I may not give it to you."
He flung his hand out in a smooth gesture, and Ginny was ripped away from him, hitting the ground with a rough cry. Blood boiling, he turned on Voldemort, enraged. "Leave her out of it! She's done nothing to you!" he exclaimed, pulling out his wand.
"On the contrary, she has tried to foil me at every step! She who thought she could overcome the Dark Lord! She will pay for her stubbornness; I have always owned her, and now she will realize it!" Voldemort crowed, smiling viciously.
Watching helplessly as Ginny struggled to her knees, Harry met her gaze. A small smile of encouragement flitted across her face, and she got to her feet shakily, grimacing with the effort. A new power filled him as he watched her, different from his anger but no less strong. At that moment, he knew he was ready to face Lord Voldemort for the last time.
"I shall take care of Virginia later; now it is your turn to fall, Potter," Voldemort said, eyes glinting. "Your precious Dumbledore is gone; no one can save you now!"
Harry faced his enemy, power building at his fingertips. Dumbledore may have been gone, but his words remained. If he didn't perform the spell now, he may not get another chance...
"Stupefy!"
Both he and Voldemort turned, startled by Ginny's abrupt cry. Behind him, Bellatrix laid Stunned, her wand in her hand and her mouth open as if she was going to speak. Ginny was making her way back to Harry's side, glaring fiercely at Voldemort. Harry was amazed by her sudden display of strength, and he reached out to put an arm around her waist to steady her.
Voldemort was hardly amused; indeed, his face was quite pale and pinched, his fingers clenching around his wand forebodingly. "You will stay silent, Virginia, or suffer the consequences!" he exclaimed.
Ginny smiled without amusement, taking Harry's hand and squeezing tightly. "You always seem to forget, Tom; you don't own me. You never had," she said calmly.
If he had been a normal man, Voldemort's face would have been purple with rage. "You forget your place, you foolish girl!"
Her chin rose slightly. "It's right here: next to Harry," she replied steadily, not a drop of fear in her tone.
Harry smiled, squeezing her hand, and raised his wand. It was time. "Claudo Hic Victimae Voldemort!"
At the same time, Voldemort had raised his own wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried.
A gold jet of light sped from Harry's wand as he and Ginny scrambled to dogde the green light from Voldemort's wand. There was a sudden explosion of light and Harry had to shut his eyes to prevent from being blinded. When the light faded, he opened his eyes to see the gold light rising up into the air, surrounding Voldemort, who was looking more and more enraged by the moment. The gold light split into two, circling around Voldemort and creating a shining sphere around him. His wand began to glow, and from it came silver light, pouring out onto the ground and filling the area.
Battles were halting as all eyes turned to Harry and Voldemort. Harry inhaled sharply as the silver light began to take shape into figures familiar to almost everyone fighting. The lean form of Remus Lupin rose up from the light, followed by a grinning Sirius Black, who was followed by the twin figures of James and Lily Potter. More forms rose, but Harry was transfixed by the sight before him. Beside him, he heard Ginny gasp; she clutched his hand tightly.
As the other forms surrounded Voldemort, the shining figures of Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily came towards Harry and Ginny, all smiling gently.
"What did I tell you, Harry?" Remus said, voice echoing as if it was from very far away. "Those who we love never leave us."
Harry felt his throat close; he could only nod, not trusting his voice. Ginny held his hand tightly as they heard Voldemort's cries for help.
Sirius nodded towards Voldemort. "Finish him off, Harry. We'll guide your power," he said.
"You help him as well, Ginny," Lily added gently, smiling at Harry and nodding.
Licking his lips, Harry looked down at Ginny. "Ready?" he asked softly.
She smiled up at him, eyes bright. "Absolutely."
Harry nodded. She raised her wand so that it was level with his. They aimed towards Voldemort, took a breath in unison, and said, "Avada Kedavra!"
The silver spirits sped along the twin spells, rushing past the golden web entrapping Voldemort, and crashing into his form. A horrible yell echoed throughout the area, a scream of one who knew where he was headed and was petrified. Lights flashed blindingly bright across the sky; Harry ducked his head, burying his face in Ginny's hair as she put her face to his shoulder. The screams faded, as did the lights, and suddenly there was silence.
Lifting his head, Harry looked towards where Voldemort had been, and inhaled sharply. Nothing was left except for the remains of his black robes. The silver spirits drifted towards the skies, fading as the rain tapered off, leaving only sprinkles and grey clouds. Only Remus, Sirius, and his parents remained, fading just as the others. They smiled at Harry, waving.
"You've done so well, Harry. We're so proud of you," James said quietly.
"Don't worry; we're always watching you," Lily added gently.
Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. His eyes looked unusually bright, even if he was silver. "I never blamed you, Harry. I thought you were the most brilliant boy ever," he finally said, voice hoarse.
Harry thought he was going to collapse; Sirius' words brought the grief back, but in a slightly good way.
Remus only smiled. "Remember what I said, Harry," he said, slowly fading away.
Harry and Ginny watched silently as all four faded into the air, glints of silver the only thing left to mark their places. Around them, Death Eaters were dropping their wands and allowing themselves to be rounded up by Aurors, although some were fighting harder than most. They heard people call to them, walk towards them.
Feeling completely spent, Harry dropped to his knees, wand falling from his hand. He felt a burning behind his eyes, felt a sense of never-ending grief overwhelm him. He felt as if he had accomplished nothing.
Someone kneeled beside him; hands lifted his face to meet a bright, dark gaze. It was Ginny.
"Harry, are you all right?" she asked thickly, a tear falling from her eye and tracing a path through the blood and dirt on her face.
He looked into her eyes, and felt something break within him. Pulling her to him, he buried his face in her neck and began to shake, wanting to cry, but not able to let himself go. She held him tightly, whispering in his ear and kissing his cheek, as the smoke cleared around them. The clouds drifted overhead, continuing to make the day grey.
Author's Notes: I said this was last, but there will be an epilogue, because I hate ending on odd numbers. Well, no, that's not why; it needs an epilogue. Anywho, that should be out in about a week, if my muse keeps up the good work. Many thanks to Anne, and please review!