PART THIRTY FIVE

The Lord

Ron looked out the window through the softly billowing white curtains of the hospital wing and blinked, serenity surrounding his heart as he gazed at the peacefully twinkling stars out on the dark, night sky. Nothing could be heard but the chirping of the crickets and the faint sound of his own shallow breathing, and compared to the sounds he was hearing not a long while back, this was so much better. He knew it was three-thirty in the morning and he'd been awake for hours, but he surprisingly wasn't tired at all. He'd been sitting on the very same chair since night came, and now, in the hospital wing with no light and no other company save for the unconscious girl in front of him, he found the darkness incredibly soothing.

Ron shifted in his position and winced. Every fiber of his muscles was in pain, and he was so full of bandages he could've sworn he could pass for a Boggart as a Mummy—all he needed now was someone to jump at him and shout, "Riddikulus!" Yet still, he felt wonderful; the girl on whose bed he was sitting beside was the reason for that.

Hermione hadn't moved an inch since Ron had come; she was heavily under medication, and recuperation was almost impossible, but Ron's keyword was "almost", which meant no matter how hard it was, Hermione would still recover somehow. And that was why every rise and fall of Hermione's chest was bringing Ron sheer joy—she was alive.

He knew he himself was in a terribly awful state: he had slings and casts and he could barely move. His whole body was exhausted, but he didn't feel like resting at all. Sitting there, staring at the stars as the breeze gently blew by was all the rest Ron could ever ask for.

He shut his eyes to enjoy the silence, when all of a sudden, slow footsteps began to walk towards him, and a soft, extremely dejected voice said, "It was me."

Ron opened his eyes to find Harry, as badly bandaged as Ron was, limping towards the chair beside Ron. He took his seat and turned to Ron. "It was me all along."

Ron almost didn't notice the doubt and distrust that tugged at his heart when Harry sat beside him. He still couldn't find it in him to forget the way Harry's eyes had shone horrifically not long ago. Still, he couldn't find the strength to speak, so he looked at his friend and raised his eyebrows instead.

Harry sighed and licked his bloody lips, then he reached for his left eye, which had been badly bruised by Malfoy a while back, and winced. "I just spoke to Dumbledore. I told him everything: Hermione, Malfoy, Godric's letter, my visions…everything. I thought he'd be shocked, but it turned out I was the one who got the full blast of surprise in the end," Harry narrated softly, as if he could no longer muster enough stamina to recall his conversation with Dumbledore. Ron ignored the fact that Harry was speaking so casually; it was almost as if Harry hadn't just killed the widely feared Dark Lord some hours ago this afternoon.

Or had he killed Voldemort? Was Voldemort perhaps still out on the loose, once more weakened but definitely still alive? Voldemort had laughed and disappeared, hadn't he? And he had told Harry that it wasn't over…not yet…

Ron sighed and nodded slowly to tell Harry to go on.

"Dumbledore told me Voldemort's spell backfired because of the wrong incantation you made him say, and instead of being able to call forth power for Malfoy, what happened was that Voldemort was stripped of his powers. But instead of this getting received by Malfoy, I…received it instead, because Dumbledore said I had more potential and capability…" Harry's voice trailed off.

Ron then cleared his throat and decided to speak up. "So…why the long face, then…? It means you're stronger than Malfoy, mate…"

"I had more potential and capability to be evil, Ron…" replied Harry dolefully. A long and awkward silence followed after that, and Ron looked up at the stars again, giving Harry all the time he needed to be able to say what he wanted to say.

And all of a sudden, Harry let out an amused snort, and Ron looked back at him in curiosity. He saw in pity that Harry was now grinning, but Ron could see right through Harry's eyes—it bore all the inner torture Harry was feeling.

"Guess what I learned when Voldemort's powers got transferred to me, and I immediately saw his thoughts and how to perform all his spells." Harry chuckled. "I learned—are you ready for this?—that I am Godric Gryffindor's heir!" Harry chuckled again as Ron flinched. "It turns out, that Salazar Slytherin knew about the trances Godric said he was getting into. According to Salazar, Godric's trances dated back before they even built Hogwarts—in fact before they even graduated, and Godric was acting like a blood-crazed madman whenever he was in a trance, plus the duration of the trances were becoming longer and longer as Godric grew older. Salazar realized long before Hogwarts that if the trances took over Godric completely, he would destroy both Muggles and wizards, that was why Salazar swore to rule over all wizards in order to have them fight against Godric when that time came. When the idea for Hogwarts came up, Salazar wanted only to give magical education to pure-bloods, because they are less attached to Muggles, whom Godric could easily hold hostage as bait to wizards. But the thing inside Godric wasn't able to fully awaken. Salazar passed all this to his heir, Voldemort…" Harry looked at Ron amusedly. "This is why Voldemort wanted to kill me so badly, because I'm Godric's heir…I might sooner or later fall into the trances Godric didn't completely fall into…amazing story, don't you reckon?" And Harry began to laugh.

Ron swallowed heavily. He never felt pity as much as he was feeling for Harry right now. Was all this for real? Was Harry—his best friend, the hero of the wizarding world, the legendary Boy Who Lived, filled with nothing but goodness and nobility—really going to wake up, and soon wreak havoc on all of mankind?

It took a while before Harry's denial wore off, and he returned to the severity of the burden of the truth that he knew he couldn't escape. He continued in the most grave tone, "Whatever was within Godric hasn't fully awoken in me yet…but just a while ago it almost did, and I found out what I could do…what I was capable of…" Harry paused again and looked far off into the distance, as if replaying the feeling he'd felt out in the Forest. "Once I got hold of that power…I felt free…superior…thoughtless of all consequences as long as I got what I wanted, which was to rule over everything…I was overwhelmed, and I felt like everyone should be under my command…" Harry looked back at Ron, his eyes glistening. "I killed Voldemort…I almost killed Hermione…I vented out my hatred for Malfoy with intention to kill brutally and mercilessly…and if ever I had done the latter, I know I would've left the clearing immediately and would've left you to bleed to death…I got a taste of power out there, Ron…and I…I lost control…"

"Harry—"

"Now it all makes perfect sense…all my visions were warning me about everything that just happened a while ago out in the Forest: blond hair meaning Malfoy, the Gryffindor and Slytherin crests, Voldemort's red eyes, green light, blood, screams, Malfoy, Hermione…the six serpents were the six names mentioned, and Tom Riddle really did fall just a while ago…they all met their downfall…I should have seen it all, Ron…I should have paid attention, and I could've prevented it all from happening…" Harry went on. "I now completely understand my fifth vision, which had me seeing only green with a wand in my hand. Power was surging through me and I felt wonderful to have blood splashed all around me…this only means power makes me hunger for blood and death…and my sixth vision, telling of broomsticks and the Dark Mark and of me wanting to snap…this is all about the Quidditch Final, where the Dark Mark on Malfoy burnt black and I felt like snapping—I was able to break Dumbledore's spell and Malfoy started falling faster…" This time, when Harry paused again, there was a definite tremble in his voice. "Blood makes me feel good…power makes me euphoric…I am destructive, I am sadistic, I thrive on danger and risks and anywhere death abounds…"

"Hermione was right…Ginny was right…the disasters that happened during the school year—Justin, Cho, and Malfoy's accidents—didn't have anything to do with Godric's letter. They weren't the people 'at stake', and these weren't the 'dangers to come'…that danger just happened a while ago in the Forest, and the people around me at that time really did become 'at stake'…" Harry's voice quivered again. "My visions said, 'After the sixth downfall of the serpent, a new power shall rise again, greater and more powerful than ever before.' We all thought it was Malfoy, because every disaster seemed to point to him…" Harry looked at Ron again, and now Ron could fully see the fear in Harry's eyes. "But it's me, Ron…I'm the new power that'll rise after the six downfalls…I'm the lord who'll destroy everything…" His voice trailed off once more. "It was me all along."

This was when Harry helplessly buried his head into his bandaged hands, and his shaking shoulders told Ron that Harry was nothing but scared. Ron let Harry's trembling sobs, muffled by his hands, reverberate throughout the empty hospital wing, breaking the silence of the night. Another breeze swept by and both Harry and Ron's locks were caressed; Ron closed his eyes and let everything Harry had just said sink in. And, in the darkness of the hall, Ron saw the luminosity of what he knew would assure Harry that everything was going to be alright.

"That's the thing, Harry," Ron suddenly whispered, his eyes still closed. "Whatever that being inside you is, it hasn't taken over you completely yet, and I somehow believe it never will."

Harry looked up from his hands and glared at Ron hazily. "What the hell do you know? I was there, Ron; I felt it! And the worst part of it all is that I remember every single detail, every single feeling, every single thing I did! It's not that I was just 'not myself', because I remember doing the things I did! And even now that Malfoy punched me like hell and made me snap out of it, I still remember every single thought that I read from Voldemort, and I still know how to do every single spell he knows! It was the inner me, Ron; don't you see? That monster who killed Voldemort out there is the inner me!"

"You're not like Godric, Harry. He was having trances long before his seventh year. Haven't you ever wondered why your 'inner you' took this long to get out? After all these years of it going on hibernation, why suddenly decide to struggle to break free?" replied Ron calmly. "You're not the epitome of evil, Harry. Say we take into consideration the fact that Salazar and Voldemort's cause is very noble. But let's not forget how they tried to reach that cause. They were willing to engage in merciless mass murders, Harry. Mind control. Sabotage. Pandemonium. It didn't matter how many lives they ruined in order to fulfill their goal. If you ask me, Harry, I think they're just using 'fighting against Godric's forces' as an excuse to get what they want—and that is them being in control of the wizards…and soon, the Muggles, too." Ron finally opened his eyes to look at Harry's bewildered face. "I'm not contradicting your conclusion that you have the tendency to unleash your chaotic wrath or whatever once you snap or once you get a dose of power. All I'm saying is that you won't snap, Harry. You've made it this far without snapping, and even though you almost did, you still haven't. Do you want to know why?"

Harry straightened in his seat at Ron's sudden burst of insight.

"Because we're here, Harry. We're here to keep you in a loving, peaceful, and killing-free atmosphere. I believe your environment is keeping your destructive inner self at bay. Because of us, you've always been the righteous, brave, reckless yet extremely lucky Harry, and we'll always be here to keep you that way." Ron smiled. "And if you decide to snap, we'll still be here to hit your head and wake you up. You always have the choice; you can use your newfound knowledge of Voldemort's thoughts and spells for a good cause. You can change what Godric has burdened you with, you know. You can keep being the noble Harry we all know and love. And if you're still convinced that you're evil and foul and Voldemort's the one who's trying to rule for the good of everybody and all that, then just look at it this way—you're not the one killing off everything that crosses your path, Harry. You're the one risking your life for your friends' sake; you're the one dodging three-headed dogs, learning secrets of weird desire mirrors, narrowly escaping humongous and deadly spiders, killing off giant man-eating and man-petrifying snakes, turning back time and risking getting kissed by Dementors, haggling with merpeople in lakes and saving unconscious victims, running through graveyards and carrying a dead friend while dodging Death Eater attacks and so much more, just for the good of everyone around you. And if that's what you call evil, then let Aragog come out from his den and swallow me whole."

A long silence followed Ron's unexpected speech, as Harry blinked wordlessly at Ron. And when Harry finally smiled, Madam Pomfrey's voice boomed out of nowhere, saying, "Alright, alright; enough chitchat! Back to bed, you reckless lot!"

Both Harry and Ron looked up to see the school nurse tottering towards them. "I go off to Professor Snape's office for a millisecond and off you go, neglecting your much-needed rest in your condition!" she shoved two cups in the two boys' hands. "Drink your medicine and get back to bed!"

"But, Madam Pomfrey, you've been away for hours ever since I got to Hermione's bed—"

"May it be a second or an hour, you shouldn't be out of bed!" Madam Pomfrey cut Ron off heatedly. "Now take your medicine! Chattering like recuperation is not needed, honestly…"

Harry bit back a smile and glanced at Ron, who was grinning at Harry as if to say, "Some things never change." Harry stifled a laugh and turned to his medicine. But no sooner did he touch the cup's rim with his lips than a commotion made him drop it with a piercing sound as it shattered on the floor.

Because at that moment, a voice shouted, "Stupefy!" and Madam Pomfrey fell forward towards Harry and Ron. And as Ron's cup smashed to the floor in bits, they both looked up to see Malfoy, standing right across from them, his wand in his hand.

My very last feast at Hogwarts was the loneliest feast in my life. As Dumbledore gave his final words of congratulations to all the graduates, and issued his words of wisdom before he let us out into the world, the people around me began to cheer, pumping their fists into the air and throwing their hats as high as they could. But amidst the entire jubilant atmosphere, I was being crushed from within. I remember my exact feelings that day as if it were yesterday…

We were allowed to leave the hospital wing despite our heavily bandaged condition for the feast that day, Hermione, Ron and me. I sat there, my thoughts all jumbled and my feelings all confused since that fateful night in the hospital wing right after I had killed Voldemort. And as Dumbledore's words began to fade out, I began to drown out all the cheering and all the commotion around me, and all of a sudden everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion, and the only sound I could hear was my own breathing.

I glanced over at the high table, where the teachers were clinking their glasses in joy and patting each other's back for another job well done. I saw McGonagall, the ever-strict and ever-protective Deputy Headmistress, whose Transfiguration lessons were crazy yet extremely gratifying. I knew I wouldn't have asked for a better Head of Gryffindor House.

I saw Hagrid, the most fearsome yet most kindhearted friend I had ever had, stubborn and reckless but very much dependable in times of trouble. Never had I experienced hell and heaven at the same time save for during his Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Hagrid had made my stay at Hogwarts feel like I was at my real home, with my real parents.

I saw Snape, the most horrible teacher to ever walk the earth, but despite everything, he had always managed to surprise me at the end. Despite all my doubts against him, he had always made it clear where his loyalties truly lay. I will never love hating anyone more.

And of course, I saw Dumbledore. I could not say anything about him, except the fact that he made me feel like my parents were both alive and well, watching over me and loving me with all their hearts.

I looked at all the ghosts, the portraits, the enchanted ceiling, the corridors, the windows for owl posts, the tables, the students.

I saw Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who had all shown me what it was like to finally have friends.

I saw my Quidditch team, who had stood by me through all our victories and failures while having fun at the same time.

I saw Ginny, who, after everything we'd been through, had proved to me just how great a friend a Weasley could be.

I saw Cho, the one and only person who'd made my heart beat like hell. I knew I would spend my life with her and die with a smile on my face.

I saw Ron, the most loving, the most caring, the most dependable, the most understanding, the most smart-alecky, the most loyal, and the bravest best friend in the world. I honestly wouldn't have known life without Ron.

I glanced at the Slytherin table, and saw the empty seat between the cheering Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy.

My ever-annoying rival.

That was when the events of the night in the hospital wing came back to me. I remembered Malfoy, grinning at Ron and me right after he'd Stunned the school nurse. Ron and I got up, thinking Malfoy was up to something again. But then he explained before Ron and I could whip out our wands that he had found out Madam Pomfrey wasn't herself that night and could possibly want to harm Ron and me. He said that he knew this because he had been talking to Snape in his office that night when Madam Pomfrey had come and checked to see if Malfoy was okay or if he had needed anything else. Malfoy said that it struck him as weird because Madam Pomfrey was never particularly concerned with his safety—as obviously seen when he had sustained injuries from Buckbeak long ago in their third year—even when he had woken up from his two-month coma. He then rushed to the hospital wing in time to save Ron and me from certain death, as we later found out. Snape's Veritaserum on the school nurse told us that Madam Pomfrey (the only staff member save for the professors—who'd been extra wary of Voldemort's tricky schemes since his rise to power—who had access to all students and could easily poison someone) had been injected with a mind control curse by Voldemort the night Hermione had come to visit Malfoy when he had woken up from his two-month coma—that was why Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight that night. The mind control curse was to be activated as a last resort when all else failed for Voldemort, and that night when Voldemort disappeared in the Forest, the curse on Madam Pomfrey took effect. She couldn't kill Hermione, Ron and me straight on without arousing any suspicions, so she was to cure us first and when we were properly bandaged, she was to let us drink the Draught of Living Death as though it were medicine, and then kill us to make it look like we passed away in our sleep.

Madam Pomfrey was okay now, Dumbledore having removed the curse with the help of my knowledge on Voldemort's spells. But the thing I could not forget the most about that night in the hospital wing was when Malfoy talked to Ron and me. We thanked him for preventing us from drinking the potions; I thanked him for snapping me out of my trance in the Forest; he congratulated Ron on using the Page Turner Charm as was narrated to him by Snape, no doubt, on Ron's account of the events that happened out on the Forest; and he thanked us for supporting his relationship with Hermione. After hours of just talking, we knew we had finally made peace with him and I thought everything was going to be alright, but then he brought up the fact that he was entrusting Hermione to the both of us, and that he hoped we would take care of her at least until someone else came along to cherish her forever.

This was what struck me. Malfoy told us that night that he was going away for good on a quest to find any remaining Death Eaters and make sure they would never rise again or try to bring another into Voldemort's footsteps. And if Voldemort truly were still alive, he would find him and put an end to him for good while he was still weak. This was somehow his way of avenging his parents, and he didn't want to drag Hermione along with him to the dangers he knew his quest was going to bring. He told us that it was because of him that Hermione got involved in the first place, and he didn't want it to happen again.

What tore me so much was that he said he loved Hermione so much, but it would be better if she thought otherwise so that she could forget him and move on to find someone who could protect her and deserve her more. And so he asked us to promise to tell Hermione that Malfoy had left because he didn't love her anymore.

After recalling the events of the hospital wing, I took a glimpse at Hermione beside me at the Great Hall, cheering because Gryffindor and Slytherin had tied for first place, on account of the Quidditch Final not being counted. She had thought that the reason Malfoy wasn't at the feast was because he had just gone away for a while. She didn't know that after talking with Ron and me on that fateful night, Malfoy had left while Hermione was unconscious on her bed. He told us to let Ginny keep the locket, and with a small goodbye to Hermione' sleeping features, he departed without looking back.

I sighed heavily, finally calling Hermione's attention as the moment I had been dreading came. She turned to me with a look of pure eagerness. I knew right then, as I opened my mouth to tell her what Malfoy had made me promise to say, that I would not be able to stand the hurt that would appear on her innocent face.

That was how my seventh year came to an end. And now, as I sit here by my window, watching the white flakes of snow falling softly from the dark sky to the glistening sheet of purity on the ground, I can't help but feel lonely again, having just recollected my last year at Hogwarts. But as I turn to look back inside the room I am in, at the peaceful sleeping figure of the woman I love on my bed, and at the angelic child snoozing on another bed at the corner, I am overwhelmed at life's blessings on an unworthy man like me. I have made so many mistakes in my life; I am not perfect. But perhaps the blessings I'm receiving now are rewards for trying to change my destructive destiny and not resorting to evil deeds on the way, unlike Voldemort, who was destined for good things but destroyed everything to get there. Ron was right; I never did snap again, and yes, I probably never will.

I take one more glance around the room and smile. I am content, and I know Ron is, too. And somehow, I know, that Hermione and Malfoy are out there feeling the same way. I have no doubt in my heart that they will show what they've shown in our seventh year despite all the obstacles keeping them apart.

They will find their way back to each other again. They always do.