Chapter 7 – The (Not Quite) Final Battle

Harry stood to face Voldemort, trying his best not to shake. How could this be happening now? For weeks he had been going on about this dilemma and he still hadn't settled his mind. One thing was for sure though, he had to try to survive. That was easier said than done.

"Harry Potter. We meet again," Voldemort said hissing slightly.

"Seems to happen a lot," Harry said unsteadily, trying to appear confident.

"Yes," Voldemort hissed. He raised his wand. Harry's head spun. Where was Dumbledore? He knew he couldn't just sit and wait. He had to try to fight. He just hoped he could last long enough without being killed.

He shook his head, trying to calm down, "What am I going to do now?" Voldemort was always terrifying, even though Harry had seen him many times (what was the count up to now?) Harry knew he could only do one thing. He raised his wand. He could only protect.

"Let's start you off with a little pain shall we?" Voldemort asked, sneering.

"Leave him alone!" Harry heard Remus say.

"Well what do we have here? Potter Senior's best friend eh? How was it that we never met? I knew him quite well, besides that little unpleasantness before he died," Voldemort laughed. Even his laugh was terrifying. It sent shivers into every living thing within earshot. Harry felt rage boiling up inside him.

"What, killing him?" Harry asked incredulously. He told himself to keep the rage down.

"That's right," Voldemort said, still chuckling.

"Why you dirty little-," Remus started to say. Voldemort turned his wand to face Remus. Harry sensing an opening, raised his wand.

Voldemort tsked. "I wouldn't do that Harry. I will murder your friend." Harry kept his wand on pointing towards Voldemort. It wavered slightly moving with Harry's hand. No, he could not do this now. He would face Voldemort when it was just him and Harry. Harry didn't want his friends involved.

He finally lowered his wand and, glaring at Voldemort, threw it down. It bounced off the floor and came to a rolling stop in front of Voldemort.

"That's a good lad Harry," Voldemort sneered. "How about the rest of you?"

Tonks and Mundungus looked at each other, then at Harry. He nodded, and he had a feeling they understood what he wanted. He did not want the final battle now. They threw their wands towards Voldemort. That would come at a later time. "Very good," he hissed. "You made it clear to me that you do have intelligence."

"Oh yes, I'm very smart," Tonks said sarcastically.

"Shut up!" Voldemort hissed. Still watching Harry, with his wand pointed at Remus, he shouted, "Crucio!"

Remus slumped down and screamed. Harry looked away, but could not end the sound. He ground his teeth together in pain. No, he had to watch Voldemort! He didn't want to be surprise attacked. He turned his head to face Voldemort and twisted his face into what he hoped was a defiant face. "Don't worry Harry. You won't be able to see his pain for much longer."

Harry cringed, but did not look away. He couldn't. Those traitorous eyes would murder him. "Stop!" he screamed.

"Would you rather I did it on you?" Voldemort asked, his eyes bulging slightly.

"No Harry!" Remus screamed. "You're more important!"

"What good is it if I won't kill him anyways!" Harry retorted. He bit his tongue. That wasn't smart. Voldemort looked at Harry strangely.

"So little baby Potter has morals after all," he sneered. "Potter, you will find that there is no excuse for such frivolous-," but Harry interrupted him sharply.

"Excuse me, I am twenty-three years old," Harry replied, "and I'm not going to be swayed that easily."

Voldemort hissed in anger. Harry shivered; it sounded so much like a snake.

Remus sighed. Voldemort turned towards Harry and raised his wand, but was cut off by Remus saying, "What's the matter Voldie? Afraid to pick on someone your own size. Than again, I don't think anyone in here is as tall as you."

Voldemort shrugged off the insult. "You don't get it do you?" Remus shouted. "Then it must be intelligence. Picking on someone dumber than you!" he shot Harry an apologetic glance. Harry nodded in understanding, even though he did not like what Remus was doing.

"Have it your way then," Voldemort said simply. He pointed his wand back at Remus. Remus stared definatly at him. "Avada K-," but he never got the chance.

Harry screamed a booming, "NO!" and charged at Voldemort. Voldemort finished the spell, but turned to face Harry, the wand now pointed at him. Harry heard a rushing sound as the spell, meant for Remus, came out of Voldemort's wand and hit Harry squarely in the chest. He flew back into the wall and slumped forward, face down.

Voldemort hissed triumphantly, "Easier than I thought,"

"As for the rest of you," Voldemort said pointing his wand in a semi-circle at them, "I hope you live in peace in the afterlife."

Remus gulped. It was probably better this way. Voldemort would take over the Earth, and he did not want to be around to see that.

"They won't be in the afterlife for a long time Voldemort," said a voice near the wall. Everyone stared. Harry was getting up, and dusting off the bits of drywall on his robes.

He got up. "Why aren't you dead?" Voldemort asked terrified. There was something in his eyes then, Harry noticed. It was almost as if Voldemort had lost his only weapon, but Voldemort had more power than simply Avada Kedavra didn't he? He was uncertain and Harry felt sure that he could exploit that.

Harry grinned, "I'm like a cockroach. You can't kill me," as he deliberately goading

"This isn't right at all! You are supposed to be dead! Why aren't you?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you our best weapon," Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

Voldemort looked around fearfully. He weighed the odds against him. He couldn't continue to kill Potter unless he knew how. Right now, he did not now how. "I'm in danger," he thought suddenly. "I'm defenseless against them!"

He knew what he had to do. As much as he hated doing it, he had to. He disapparated with crack!

"So why aren't you dead Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as if not dying when he was supposed to die was not scary. Remus looked at him funny. Harry knew why. Remus was thinking that Harry had actually wanted to die.

"I am glad I'm alive Remus," Harry said shortly, with a laugh. "I'm not suicidal yet. So why aren't I dead?"

"You don't know?"

"Nope," he said simply. "Why then, Remus?"

"Couldn't tell you," Remus said quite as simply as Harry had.

"What's going on?" a voice asked to their left side fearfully.

"Dumbledore!" Harry said amazed. He was a few minutes late. Harry forgot his worries about Dumbledore and wished Dumbledore had come sooner.

"What happened?" he asked again fearfully when he saw the bindings, gags, and holes in the wall.

Harry looked at Remus, who looked back. They both started talking at the same time.

Dumbledore laughed, which broke the tension. "One at a time please. I'm sure you are both anxious to show your narration skills off, but please,one at a time."

"If I do remember correctly, Mr. Potter here never really did show any aptitude at narration."

Harry smiled, completely forgetting about Voldemort. "Do you ever remember incorrectly?"

"No of course not," she said stiffly.

"Someone tell me what happened," Dumbledore commanded again, all levity gone, now with a note of urgency.

With a sigh, Harry recounted what had happened, and felt the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"Harry, I'm impressed. Again." Remus said smiling. "I didn't believe it when I heard about your 'balance point' but you handled that without aggression." Harry smiled, but did not believe Remus's words.

Voldemort was evil. Harry had to fight him. Just confronting him again had waken him up to that fact.

"I've come to a decision though Remus," Harry said slowly. "I must seek Voldemort out." Remus was quiet. When he did not respond, Harry returned to his thoughts. He realized that he had made a decision during the battle. He had to fight Voldemort, and seek him out. It wasn't that his 'balance' had been trashed, but he wanted to. He wanted to be rid of this burden and rid of Voldemort.

Deep down, Harry knew, he really wanted to kill Voldemort in vengeance, but he couldn't think about that. He would kill Voldemort because it was the right thing to do. Dumbledore had been right. He couldn't have a personal dilemma when it was his time to live up to the responsibilities he was born with.

"And I'm glad of it Harry," came Dumbledore's voice. His eyes twinkled, "I knew you just needed an extra helping hand." And there was Dumbledore, the kindly old wizard Harry was used to seeing. It felt him with such a happiness, that even Voldemort could not take away.

His happiness was short lived however. When he got back to Hogwarts he found himself in a huge hug by Hermione. Harry's heart ached for her, wishing he could accept the grief for both of them, but that couldn't be done.

"Harry, we need to accept the grief," she said strongly, through tears, "only then will we be able to move on."

Harry nodded in understanding, not prepared for the moment when he would have to face the Weasley parents and siblings. Apparently, they were coming in in two days, when the funeral would be. He couldn't imagine the Burrow was a happy place to be right now.

"He died a hero," Harry said to Hermione, who nodded. Deep inside though, Harry knew Ron hadn't died a hero, he had just been unconscious, but he was a hero on so many other occasions.

They talked about different times they had had with Ron, laughing at the memories, as grieving friends do, but it could never stop the pain. Nothing ever would, Harry knew. He had experienced death many times in his life. Cedric, Sirius, and now Ron? How could he live with that?

"Harry about the train," Hermione began, but Harry didn't give her a chance.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Harry said smiling.

"Please Harry," she pleaded, "don't let that happen again. That wasn't the only time you've scared me."

"Don't worry," Harry replied, stung by the words, "I've finally come to a decision. You won't like it, but it has to be done."

"You're going to go after Voldemort," she finished, starting to sob some more. "Don't Harry, please don't. Just run! Run away!"

"Hermione," he said gently. "I have to fight him. It's my burdon. Nobody else can do it!"

"You scare me Harry. What happens when you're a murderer?" she gasped when she said it.

Harry's eyes darkened. He had to keep his mind off that terrible day when so much bad had happened. "I already am."

"You fool! The Cloaked Figure said. "You must know that you cannot do curses on family members!"

"Family members?" Potter was related to him.

"You and Potter have the same blood you idiot! Of course the magic thinks you're family!"

"So no curses will work on him?"

"No!"

"So when I returned in his Fourth Year, even if I had hit Potter, it wouldn't have done anything?"

"No!" the Cloaked Figure said again.

"Are you telling me-,"

The Cloaked Figure hissed impatiently, "Voldemort! NO!"

"So how do I kill him."

"You have a brain, use it."

Something struck in Voldemort then, "What did you do while I didn't have a body?"

"I waited for you to figure out how to return. I knew you would."

"Why?"

The Cloaked Figure used his own phrase again, "You had a brain. I would've thought you could've used it."

"Besides, this," the Cloaked Figure withdrew the same jewel he had threatened Voldemort with, "was still intact."

Not the jewel again! He was scared of Vivificus Auctorita.

"Our darkest hour," Voldemort said, remembering those days.

"Your darkest hour," the Cloaked Figure corrected. "I keep the balance."