Ginevra called Ginny

Part II-

Ginny felt herself mentally flinch even at the sight of Voldemort. Being in the same room as him was absolutely last on the list of things she wanted. However, Harry was in the room as well, and he was number one of her list, so they crossed each other out in a sense and she would just have to deal. Harry needed her.

"Ginny, why are you here?" Harry was clearly shocked to see her, "Why didn't whoever found you take you back to the school?"

Ginny was impatient to deal with him, when would he and everyone else realize she could look out for herself? "FOUND ME? Harry, I broke out of my room and landed on my brother's feet?"

"And Ron let you…" He was assuming things.

"No, actually I thought for myself for once!"

A cold, high voice murmured, "Is there trouble in Paradise?"

Harry and Ginny froze, they had completely forgotten that the evil they had been discussing her avoiding was actually in the room.

"Ginevra," said Voldemort softly and he went to place a hand on her shoulder and suddenly thought better of it, "Clearly he doesn't want you here, and neither do I."

Harry was outraged, "You're the one who let her come in, and you sealed the door in the first place!"

"I did nothing of the sort Ginny dear," Voldemort's voice became the consistency of oil mixed with gravel, Harry said it now, he was trying to convince her he was human.

Harry was about to say something when, "STOP IT TOM! I know what you're trying to do, you cannot try now to convince me to have compassion for you. You see now that you have no chance in hell of surviving, so what are you trying? You're trying to get me to spare you, nice, but it's not going to happen."

Voldemort took a step back. Unnecessary movements from him were so unusual, so unnatural. Then again, there was nothing natural about this man, not anymore.

"Fine Potter, you want to die first? Or would you like the little lady to?"

Ginny sent a Bat Boogey hex towards a completely unsuspecting Voldemort. In his mind, in his strange twisted backwards sense of rational manners, a lady never made the first move on him in a duel, at least not successfully.

"Fine Weasley, I am going to kill him and have you here to bear witness to the victory of the greatest sorcerer of all time."

"Oh I'll be witnessing it, but it a shame you won't be able to."

Harry would have married her on the spot.

Once again, hexes flew in every which direction with Ginny crouched in a corner, she desperately wanted to join, but she saw now, that it wasn't her fight, it was Harry's, and Harry needed her here, but he did not need her help. As she was lost in thought, a piece of furniture came hurtling toward her, and sprawled out on the floor just in time to miss it as it smashed into a million pieces above her and landed on her.

"Sorry Potter, playing fair really isn't one of my better traits," Voldemort said without any apology in his voice.

"Really," Harry asked in a falsetto voice, "I'm glad you said something, I never would have picked up on that."

"Face it Potter, we're equals, if we join forces now, I'm sure we could come to some agreement..."

Harry stopped in his tracks, compromise, COMPROMISE? Since when had Voldemort ever wanted that? Since when has that been in his vocabulary? "The only agreement I want is your corpse, stone cold, six feet under," then Harry smirked, "And one inch just for good measure."

Voldemort hurled another curse in frustration and Harry dodged it just in time. Ginny however, had not even seen it coming. It took her completely by surprise, and with a faint sigh, she slumped down against the wall, taking her last breaths with dignity. The candle light in the room flickered and went out and a warm draft rushed through the room and disappeared as quickly as it had come. Harry looked back and saw that she was gone. Physically gone, the spot where she had been was now only a empty spot on beaten floorboards.

"TOM! What have you done?" Harry was livid as he processed the information.
Voldemort was just as befuddled. "Well, she should be dead on the floor with her eyes open, that's how all the others have reacted to that curse, at least your father did…"

"I AM NOT KIDDING RIDDLE! What have you done with her?" Harry was in disbelief.

"ME? My dead boy, why must you assume I swept young Gin-kin off her feet, literally?"
"Because you cursed her! Where is she?"

"I should be asking you, whenever it comes to you and me boy, let's face it, everything goes haywire, pear shaped, ass backwards!"

Harry showed as much emotion as he dared, "Why did you do it? She was the last thing I had, the last thing I…loved." Everything became clear all too fast; he should have shoved her right back out the door the minute she appeared. He didn't need her here to help him fight, he needed her for after.

"Bingo, you always do fall into my traps, you foolish people who love."

"LOVE IS NOT FOOLISH!" Harry burst out in spite of himself.

"Oh, but it is, anything that can stir such emotions in you surely is."

"I would rather die having loved then never have loved at all and become you."

"I think you may get your wish."

Harry looked down to the old, dusty floorboards. Harry thought he would cry if this ever happened, but no. It wasn't like the pain he felt when Sirius died, it was different; it was cold. Actually that's all it was, a cold; a deep, penetrating, numbing cold. He was now indifferent to all else now. He looked up, directly and defiantly into those cold, piercing red eyes. Those red eyes however, were singing a different tune.

Harry felt drained, he had nothing left, yet there was still-something burning inside of him. "Tom, you know what this all is going to come down to, don't you?"

Voldemort was taken aback. "No actually, I can't say that I do, but I would absolutely love for you to enlighten me."

"Oh, I will" said Harry so faintly Voldemort leaned forward a fraction of a millimeter to hear.

SLAM! Physically plowing Voldemort over, Harry stopped. This was not the usual style. He had never gotten this fight from Voldemort before.

Harry found himself no longer afraid, no longer weak. He was strong and brave. Voldemort was acting weak.

"Harry cut it out, play fair!" Voldemort had a faint color on his cheeks.

"What? I'm always telling you that. I am sick of playing fair, I've always played fair against you, and it's all over now. You have or have tried to take away everything I have ever loved-"

"-cut it out Harry! Just hex me, come on, enough of this ridiculous love talk."

"And everyone-"

"I really didn't think it would bother you that much," why was Voldemort behaving this way?

"BOTHER ME? I LOVED THOSE PEOPLE," Something was clicking. "I LOVED THEM. THEY LOVED ME. SOME OF THEM EVEN ENOUGH TO DIE FOR ME! AT YOUR HANDS! WHAT HAVE YOU GO TO SAY TO THAT?"

"What can I say? Look at all those ridiculous fools you killed themselves all in the name of LOVE!"

"Do you love nothing Tom?"

Voldemort said nothing.

"People died for me Tom, I can't just lie done and let you kill me. Let them have sacrificed themselves for nothing? That is a poor way to pay them back."

"You fool, people have loved me! People have died for me because they loved me!"

"No, they did not love you. They feared you. They died for you because you brainwashed them, or feared you, or a combination of both."

"You took away my Godfather, a brilliant man, who suffered for that last part of his life because of your deception."

No reply.

"You took away my father… a man I never knew!"

"You weren't missing much boy; he was just a pile of talent with useless brains!"

"MAYBE TO YOU TOM, BUT HE WAS MY FATHER, and I loved him, and he loved me."

Voldemort was no longer looking in Harry's eyes. Again, nothing was said in reply or defense. Clearly, Harry was hitting a nerve.

"Again, I'm going to ask you, don't you love anyone?"

Voldemort tried to laugh, and failed miserably.

"Not even yourself?"

No response, except for a stone cold glare in Harry's direction, but not into his eyes. The self loathing was in pools dripping down his eyes. Harry, despite himself, was feeling some remorse for a man who never knew love.

"You killed my mother, right in front of me Tom." Harry said it more as a fact than an accusation.

"Let's not bring our mother's into this Harry." Voldemort said harshly, meeting Harry's glance. Voldemort suddenly appeared much paler (if possible), much older, much weaker. He even appeared to be trembling.

-AaaCHHOOOO! Voldemort sneezed, ok, Harry thought to himself, the man was not trembling, but there were at least two unguarded tears.

"You never knew your mother, did you Tom?"

"You know that answer to that."

"I never knew mine either, isn't that a strange coincidence?" Sarcasm, go figure, now, of all times, Harry would find himself, dead on the inside and all his emotions replaced with cynicism and sarcasm.

Voldemort said nothing.

"She never told you she loved you did she?"

"No, I never needed her to."

"Oh I beg to differ; I think that would have been exactly the medicine to cure the poison that rages within you."

Once again, nothing was said by Voldemort.

"You always talk about, how much we share, how intertwined we are."

Voldemort saw his way out of talking about love and went for the offensive. "We are, you die, I die, or at least a part of me does. The part I really don't need."

"I think you do need it Tom, more than you'll ever know."

"Need what?" Voldemort knew.

"You know what my mother's last words to me were, remember, they were your downfall after all?"

"What are you talking about?"

"She said-"

"-Potter, look, you're on FIRE!" Voldemort said, moving his wand quickly to catch Harry's robes on fire.

Harry paid no mind, "I love you Harry, and she kissed my forehead." A blinding light sheathed the room and a roaring screech went through Harry but he continued, "And that is what finished you off, I can remember it now Tom. You came over me, as usual, you overlooked the power of love," Voldemort was on his knees, screaming and surrounded in a blinding green light. Harry felt a strange sensation, like a cords ripping out of him, as if his very nerves were being pulled from him. Then it was over, the cord had been cut, the snakes conjoined for so long, were now separate.

The light was gone as quickly as it had come. Voldemort was still on his knees, panting for breath, but not yet begging for mercy. Harry was still considering what actually had just happened. "Are you supposed to be dead?"

"You'll soon learn there is nothing worse than death, and I am not dead, for I cannot die." Voldemort said as he stood up.

"I would rather die and know love than know everything but."

"Well that is where we branch off my boy!" Voldemort was furious, "I don't know how you managed that, but you will pay for it."

"Why?"

"Why? Because you are a fool for loving, and it is time you all learned a lesson for this nonsense."

Then there was nothing. Then empty threat was still ringing in the air. Voldemort was still panting. Harry was standing over him, he was unsure of what was to come next.

Harry dodged as Voldemort suddenly sent a curse towards him, and Harry, out of instinct, sent a counter-curse his way. "Avada Kedavra!"And it hit. Then Voldemort's expression changed and he murmured a soft, "Oh!" and then sank back down to his knees. A violent scream erupted from deep within his lungs and an eerie red light plunged through his chest, catching the now panicked figure even more by surprise. Harry himself was unsure of what was happening. Till the old man dropped face first onto the old Oak floorboards.

The now stone cold body of Tom Riddle was laid out before Harry. For a fleeting moment Harry felt triumph which was quickly replaced with compassion and sympathy for a man he never knew; only knew he had to kill. Harry found he had sympathy for a man who could never love, because that man had never been loved. Then he felt anger at himself, he was feeling bad for killing a man who had killed all the people he had ever loved. It was such a strange and tragic moment. Harry began crying, unsure of what he was actually feeling and how it should be shown, so he gave up, he may have won the battle, but as far as he was concerned, he lost the war. Everything that really mattered to him seemed so far gone. Harry picked up Tom's wand and placed it inside his robes along with his own. The door behind him suddenly sprang open, and Hermione and Ron rushed to Harry's side. Harry gave up, they would take care of him, and Harry closed his eyes, hoping never to open them again.

Sorry I've made you all wait so long, thank you all so much for your reviews and please keep them up. I really do appreciate them. This story's final outcome may be looking a bit bleak; but it ain't over, till it's over baby!