Chapter 6 – The Fall of Lord Voldemort
Spring had come to the Forbidden Forest. The trees, tired of winter's austerity erupted into a sea of green buds while the noontime sun, determined to do its share, beamed downed with uncharacteristic ferocity on the Highland groves. New life, in all its forms, paid homage to the silent figures passing through its midst. The elder trees had seen many armies in their long lives, but never an army that took such care to leave no mark of its passage or to leave the woods unscathed – but neither had they seen an army led by both Leech and Champion before.
For all its silence, the spirits of the troops remained high. They moved with purpose and determination, the knowledge that victory was behind them and the belief that it was before them as well. At the head of the long line, in long even paces marched Harry Potter with Ginny at his side. Close behind were Sirius Black and Ron Weasley. To look at Harry and Ginny, one would have never guessed they were being followed by hundreds of Wizards and Witches with battle on their mind. They walked close, only rarely touching, for they too moved with purpose, but the air about them was different, as if they were simply on a stroll, or on some errand.
When the forest began to thin, Harry ordered a halt and camp set. It was to be a cold camp, they were too close to the enemy to reveal their presence with cook fires or overt displays of magic. The timing of their next warm meal would depend on the progress of the next day's battle. No one seemed to mind as small groups began to huddle, share their packed provisions, and rest up from three long days of marching. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Sirius did much the same.
"I'm getting too old for army life," grumbled Sirius.
"Since when did you ever act your age?" Harry challenged. "Having a mid life crisis and decided to turn over a new leaf?"
"Sure," answered Sirius, "as soon as you decide to start respecting your elders…"
"The next time we go to war," suggested Ron as he bit into a cheese sandwich, "I say we plan ahead and have the whole thing catered."
"I'm hungry enough to eat mum's tuna casserole…" Ginny insisted.
"What's wrong with mum's tuna casserole?" asked Ron.
"It smells like fish," answered Ginny. "It ruins the whole appeal of casserole."
"Well, it is Tuna casserole," remarked Ron. He started to continue, but stopped and put his sandwich down. Harry and Ginny looked at him quizzically, but Ron made no effort to explain.
Sirius nodded at something behind their back. "Harry, Ginny," he said in a whisper. "We have visitors. I'm guessing they'll be wanting to talk to you two."
Harry and Ginny both turned to look behind them. There they saw three centaurs standing only a few yards away. They both rose to their feet and approached the centaurs with bows. The centaurs acknowledged the courtesy by bowing in return. "We have seen your arrival," announced the eldest of the three.
"Our forces have been ordered to disturb the forest as little as possible," offered Ginny. "If we have intruded, or destroyed anything, we will do our best to make amends."
"Your people have been most courteous," answered the centaur to the right. "That is not our concern."
"Mars rides high in the sky," announced the elder. "The moon is in Aires. This is a time for action; war is at hand. "
"In the morning, we mean to break the siege of Hogwarts," said Harry. "Your people might want to clear out. We mean well, but the same can't be said for Voldemort or his Death Eaters."
"The moon is in Aires," restated the old horseman. "It is the time for action. The dark ones are no longer welcome in the forest."
"I think he means to join in," explained Ginny.
"Does he mean we should fight now?" Harry asked.
"Rest before tomorrow's battle," the third centaur finally spoke. "We Centaur will keep watch. In the morning we will act together."
"In the morning then," replied Harry with a gesture toward their camp. "Would you like to dine with us, until then?"
The elder Centaur shook his head. "It is the time for action, not for feasting. "
Harry bowed to the elder, and Ginny did the same. The horsemen slowly backed up, turned around and faded into the trees. Harry and Ginny returned to their meal.
"The centaurs are really going to join us?" asked Sirius. "I don't think that has ever happened before."
"In the Great Goblin Rebellion of 1612, Centaurs helped suppress the insurrection and were granted leave to settle here in the Forbidden Forest," Ron declared. All eyes turned to stare at him. Ron gave a sheepish look in reply. "Hermione is making me study for NEWTS in case the war ends soon."
"Damn Pettigrew," snarled Voldemort as he paced back and forth. "I should have killed Potter myself, and put an end to this nonsense."
"We have a more immediate problem," observed Draco. "Hogwarts is not falling; we'd have a better chance of breaking into Gringotts'. Potter knows we're here and when he arrives we're going to be between the proverbial rock and a hard place."
"He's close," replied the Dark Lord. "I can feel him."
"We should retreat while we have some semblance of strength left to us," said Draco. "All we're going to accomplish here is having our forces smashed. Morale is bad enough after that last fiasco."
"Morale is irrelevant!" shouted Lord Voldemort. "My forces will fight or die! I'll kill them myself if I have to – every last one of them."
"Listen to me," Draco snapped. "Every victory you've had so far, I won for you. If I'm going to continue to do so, I need an army, not slave labor. If you destroy them, we have no chance whatsoever."
Voldemort halted his pacing and turned to face Draco. "Master Malfoy, you've grown indeed. If you were anyone else, or if you'd spoken one iota less of truth, you'd already be dead. We need a plan. If we simply abandon the siege, we will look weak both to our enemies and to our allies. If we stay, our army will be shredded."
"The problem is Potter," observed Draco. "Too bad you can't take care of him, the way you did Dumbledore."
The Dark Lord, who had returned to pacing, halted and whirled around. "That just might work. Potter is even more vain and foolish than Dumbledore. If we turn this into a war of attrition, one with no easy victory, then offer Potter the chance for a duel to end it all, he'll trip over himself to take part."
"Potter won't be as easy as Dumbledore was. With no disrespect intended, are you sure you can win?"
Lord Voldemort scowled. "Of course I'll defeat him. If by some freak accident Potter gets the upper hand, you will step in and insure that he loses it. Some things are too important to leave to honor."
Draco's face remained a mask. It wasn't a plan he liked, but it did seem to be the most viable option open to them. "I can put up an initial screen of resistance, then fight a running retreat, back to some fortified location. Anglesey is probably the best bet. The enemy knows where it is, but it's easily fortified and defended."
"Anglesey then," replied Voldemort. "I will leave now with a company of Elites and ensure that all is in readiness. The rest is up to you." The Dark Lord left with a flourish.
"A pompous and egotistical rat leaving a sinking ship," Draco muttered to himself. "He's hedging his bets, and using me for bait. Draco Malfoy might be a lot of things, but he is never bait." Draco began sending owls and messengers to make the necessary preparations. There were special matters to be looked after.
Lucius Malfoy stepped into the Headquarters Tent and looked around imperiously.
"Welcome, father," Draco drawled cordially. "Please sit, can I have the House Elf get you some refreshment? Tea? Cognac?"
"Cognac," answered the elder Malfoy. The House Elf promptly brought a tray with two glasses and a bottle of brandy. Lucius sniffed the brandy with disdain before tasting it. "Not what I would have expected, but then there is a war going on. So tell me, how is life treating my son, the famous General?"
"Rather well until recently," Draco replied. "War is never a sure thing though; the mistakes made in peace have a way of rearing their ugly heads."
"Most unfortunate," remarked Lucius. "So why, after many weeks on the sidelines, does my son finally request my presence?"
"About that, Father…" started Draco. "My position requires a certain amount of respect… fear even. I simply couldn't afford the appearance that I held my office due to your influence, or for any reason other than my own merit and accomplishments."
"And that has changed now?"
"Things are at a delicate point now. The success of our cause hangs by the most tenuous of threads. I called you here because I need someone I can count on, someone of unquestioned loyalty, someone utterly reliable…"
"Of course," answered Lucius. "I am at your service… and Lord Voldemort's of course."
Draco smiled. "Tomorrow you will lead an assault on the gates of Hogwarts. Special plans are in the works that require my attention and a trap has been laid for Potter. If your assault fails, you must lead Potter back to Anglesey – Lord Voldemort awaits him there. It is absolutely imperative that Potter be drawn to Anglesey, failure is not an option."
"I understand," said Lucius boldly. "Lord Voldemort can count on me."
Draco nodded and then turned his back on his father. The meeting was over.
Harry and his army charged out of the trees in a wedge shaped formation while, simultaneously, Ron led a similar charge on the other side. The Death Eaters were stretched out in a ring encircling Castle Hogwarts about halfway between the Stone walls and the tree line – far enough to remain out of the range of most spells, but close enough to prevent anyone from entering or leaving any of Hogwarts' known entrances. The walls of the castle bore the scorch marks of previous attacks, but remained otherwise unscathed. Hogwarts was, as it had always been, impregnable.
The strategy was simple. Divide the ring into segments, then squeeze those segments until they broke, fled, or successfully squeezed back. Harry was determined that the last possibility would not happen. He assaulted the Death Eaters savagely and without mercy. With his men behind him, he cut a wide path through their line. When it was severed, the wedge split and began pushing in opposite directions.
It was slow, treacherous, work and every inch, every step forward was a victory. The Centaurs had yet to make their presence known – perhaps the Moon was no longer in the proper house, or Mars had moved on to indicate something else. Whatever the case, it did not seem as if this were going to be the smashing victory the previous battle had been.
New Hope arose when a group of brooms flew over the walls of Hogwarts at full speed. The broom-mounted wizards began to rain magic down on the back ranks of Death Eaters, easing the pressure on those fighting on the ground and advances could now be measured in yards instead of inches. Only Ginny's magic and adrenaline kept them all from falling in exhaustion.
A raven began to circle over head. Harry recognized it as Rhys, the Animagus scout he had met a few days before. He fell back from the front line, assuming that the Raven was bringing him a message. Once he was clear of the fray, the Raven landed on the ground and transformed into the barrel-chested, dark haired Wizard Harry knew.
"Begging your pardon, sir." Rhys started. "but a large body of Death Eaters has begun assaulting the front gates. There's a company of Giants with them. Lucius Malfoy appears to be leading them."
Harry thought for a second before speaking. "Summon O'Malley and Johnson. Have them bring their men to meet me there. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Rhys nodded, transfigured back into bird shape and flew away. Harry took off at a sprint towards the forest to circle around towards the front gates. Almost immediately, he ran into a large group of Centaurs.
"Well met, Harry Potter," spoke the leader. Harry recognized him as Firenze, the Centaur he'd met during his first year at Hogwarts.
Harry bowed to him. "I remain in your debt and at your service. At the moment however, I am in a great hurry to counter an assault on the gates of the castle."
"The time for watching has ended," answered Firenze, "and it is we who are at your service. We will go to the gates as well. It is time that the dark ones should be driven from this place."
Harry was overjoyed. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that. We should hurry."
"We'll gallop then. " Firenze replied. "We will meet on the field of battle." The Centaurs as a unit turned and left in a thunder of hooves.
Harry jogged after them at a steady pace. He ran to the edge of the tree line and waited for his own wizards to meet him. When they arrived, he led them out of the trees to join the battle. They found that the Centaurs had done much of their anticipated work for them. Giants still pounded on the gates, but the Death Eaters themselves were almost completely occupied with the fending off of Centaurs.
Harry sent O'Malley to cover one flank while he and Johnson covered the other. From the gatehouse, the Defenders of Hogwarts, pelted the giants with curses. The enemy found themselves, between the hammer and the anvil. With the arrival of Harry's forces, they ceased to be an effective combat unit.
The white blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy stood out like a beacon in the midst of the black robed Death Eaters. Harry used that beacon like a lighthouse in his endeavors, and his sword burred silver and crimson in his attempts to reach it. The elder Malfoy was very aware of Harry's approach and constantly maneuvered to keep as many men as possible as a barrier between them.
It mattered little. Harry cursed and sliced his way though dozens of Death Eaters. Malfoy's face grew increasingly ashen as he saw his men fall around him. When nothing stood between him and Harry's wrath, he held his wand up high over his head. "I surrender," he declared.
Harry halted his advance. "Call for a cease-fire," he demanded. "Death Eaters aren't exactly known for their keen sense of honor. "
Lucius called out to his men to cease their fire. Slowly the volleys of magic ceased. "I have no sword to surrender, but I will offer you my wand."
"Snap your wand, and order your men to do the same," ordered Harry. Lucius blanched and hesitated. "Do it!" snapped Harry, "or we'll cut you down."
Gravely and slowly, Lucius Malfoy brought his wand down and with a look of great pain, snapped it in two. Similar sounds were heard all around. Harry ordered his captains to round up the prisoners and keep them under guard. He then turned to look for some part of the battle to join.
His efforts were largely in vain. Those pockets of Death Eaters not surrounded and cut off were quickly retreated. Centaurs and Wizards alike pursued them. A mere fraction of the Death Eaters present escaped the field of battle. The task at hand became that of managing prisoners, and one that Harry had no taste for. In what he hoped would be his first and last abuse of power, he delegated it to Ron, then went to find Ginny.
A great muster was arranged, along with a ceremonial opening of the gates of Hogwarts. It was another thing that Harry wanted no part of – it seemed to him as if they were celebrating a victory that had not been truly won yet. Everyone, however, including Ginny, insisted that it was important, something that should be done, so he acquiesced.
Aurors and Wizards lined up in a rough formation with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Sirius and the other Captains at their head. The battlements of Hogwarts were lined with children, mothers, and all of those who had sought refuge in the castle during the conflict, either to defend it or seeking a safe harbor. The gates slowly opened and the host moved forward. They passed through the portal to great cheers and a rain of charm -produced confetti.
Inside the Courtyard the faculty of Hogwarts, members of the Council, and Hermione Granger greeted them. A feast was prepared in the Great Hall and carried out with great exuberance. Speeches were expected and made. Harry and Ginny were given a place of honor at the head table, cheered and toasted long into the evening. Harry played his part graciously, but simply wanted it to be all over with.
The next morning the Council called for a meeting. The entire Council was there as well as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry. Walpole presided over the affair and again there were a great number of speeches made praising the recent developments in the course of the war.
"We are speaking about this war as if it was over," objected Harry, "and it is most definitely not. Lord Voldemort and Draco Malfoy along with an undetermined number of Death Eaters remain at large. Until Voldemort and Malfoy are countered, all victory celebrations are premature."
"I don't think anyone here will argue that, Mr. Potter" Walpole stated. "What we are here to discuss is our strategy for bringing the war to an end."
"We need to consolidate our position, re-gather our strength. Now is the time for caution," spoke Hermione Granger. "Our forces are few and they are stretched thin. To go in pursuit of the enemy is to leave ourselves vulnerable to counter-attack."
"I agree," inserted Ron. "Malfoy is a devious and capable General. While there's no denying our recent victories, they've just been too easy, and displayed none of Malfoy's characteristic strategies. It all smells of a trap."
"I disagree," stated Harry simply.
"How did I know that was going to happen?" Ron asked wryly.
"Lord Voldemort is running for the first time ever. The Dark Army is in shambles. If we stop to consolidate, so will he, and then we'll have to do this all over again. How many brave wizards will die for the sake of consolidation?"
"In the absence of you wisdom, Mr. Potter," Walpole drawled, "We have had to find our own way. Mr. Weasley has done far better than anyone might have hoped. All of us haven't had the luxury of hiding out for the bulk of the war."
Harry glared at him. "All of us haven't had the luxury of keeping our limbs intact either. I've been fighting this war my whole life, so don't preach to me from the inside of the most secure castle in England about avoiding risk."
"The fact remains that you withdrew from the effort. Are you prepared now to fully accept your role? Do you wish this council to name you as General?"
"No thanks, I've seen what generals do, and that is not what I am."
"Then it remains to this council to decide on a course of action."
"And since I remain the General of the Army," continued Ron. "I say that we regroup, muster any new forces we can, then attempt to corner Malfoy and You-Know-Who, much as they did to us."
"I'm not done yet." Harry said coldly. "Regardless of what you decide here, I'm going after Lord Voldemort. I demand access to the information you have retrieved from the prisoners captured."
"By what right, do you challenge the will of this council?" demanded Walpole, visibly angered.
"By this right," Harry said slamming his silver hand down on the table, "and by right of the sword of Gryffindor…"
"Which this council granted to you" exploded Walpole.
"And does the council think it can take it away?" challenged Harry "Do any of you wish to argue with the magic of this hand?"
"So you will hold us hostage to the magic of the Leech then?" demanded Walpole. "No one hear is willing to reject the gift of a Leech in our midst, is this how you will blackmail us?"
"Ginny is free to do as she wishes, the responsibility of the Leech is hers to carry out as she feels best. The responsibility of Champion is mine."
Ginny stood up and spoke for the first time. "I am the Leech and I am one with the Champion. No true healing can begin until the Dark Lord is removed. I do not withhold my magic, but the will of the Champion is also mine."
The Council members murmured amongst themselves for a very long time. When the arguing ceased, it was a subdued Walpole who spoke. "What exactly would you like to know, Mr. Potter?"
"Where are the Death Eaters and where is Lord Voldemort?" asked Harry.
"The results of our interrogations are inconclusive. The vast majority of our prisoners insist that Lands End is the rendezvous point. There is one notable exception, however. Lucius Malfoy insists that Lord Voldemort and his son are laying in wait at Anglesey. It is my opinion that Malfoy is lying to us."
Ginny began to laugh. "You've been had almost as bad as Lucius Malfoy has."
"Leech or not, I won't tolerate such behavior," exclaimed Walpole
"I stopped caring what you would tolerate back in the Hospital Wing," replied Ginny. "Neither am I as gracious as Harry about the will of this Council. When did a committee ever win a war? No matter how much you talk here, someone still has to go and kick Voldemort in his warty, evil, arse. Why postpone it? Now of all times, when Malfoy has done the hard part for us?"
"Miss Weasley," shouted Professor McGonagall. "Will you please get to the point and tell us what it is you're getting at?"
"Draco Malfoy is double-crossing Lord Voldemort," Ginny said flatly. "And he's using his father as his messenger."
"And you know this how?" challenged Ron.
"The army is heading one way, while Draco's father thinks he's supposed to be heading the other way…"
"How do you know he isn't just trying to get his father out of harm's way?" Ron asked.
"If it were you or Percy or Bill or Charlie, I might very well believe that," answered Ginny. "We're talking about Malfoys though. Draco knows full well that his father would sell him out to Voldemort in a heartbeat. If he was so worried about his father though, why send him to attack the gates? The most heavily defended part of the castle? If Lucius Malfoy says Voldemort is at Anglesey while everyone else believes he's at Lands End, it can only be for one of two reasons – Either Voldemort himself told him that, or Draco Malfoy did.
"If Voldemort told him, it's because he wants to face off against Harry, but if that were the case, the army would be headed there too. The only solution left is that Draco told him, in hopes of luring Harry to face Voldemort, while he kept the remnants of his army intact. He wants Voldemort to lose."
"That's just about the grandest leap of logic I've ever heard," snorted Walpole.
"I think she may be on to something," Hermione said pensively. "It does make sense, but it reeks of a trap."
"Of course it's a trap…" retorted Walpole."
"Trap or not," replied Harry, "I'm going to face Voldemort."
"And you expect the Army to follow you, leaving the Death Eaters free run of the rest of the country?" asked Ron indignantly.
"No," Harry answered. "I expect you to take the Army to Lands End and rip the Death Eaters to shreds, and I expect you to leave no later than tomorrow morning. I am going to take two companies of volunteers with me to Anglesey. I don't think Malfoy will expect that.
Ron huffed. "For someone who doesn't want to be a General, you certainly give a lot of orders."
"Do you have a better solution?" asked Harry.
Ron silently shook his head and slumped into his chair. "Whatever is decided here, I'll abide by," he muttered with resignation.
"Great," replied Harry and turned to leave. "I'll muster my volunteers, and leave in the morning."
"You're as big a fool as Albus Dumbledore," remarked Walpole, "and just as stubborn. If you fall, who will take your place?"
"Let the council decide," Harry answered just as the doors shut.
Draco walked grimly past the guards at Anglesey. They saluted him crisply, but he ignored them. In the Great Hall, he found things in shambles, and Voldemort pacing furiously. Anglesey had never been a cozy place, but now it had all the warmth of a tomb, everything once immaculate and well ordered was now in disarray.
"Where have you been?" hissed Lord Voldemort.
"Following the plan," answered Draco, "or what's left of it… Hogwarts was a rout."
"Hogwarts was supposed to be a rout – that was the plan. Is Potter coming?"
Draco nodded. "Potter is coming - maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. Our losses were much heavier than expected. We'll be unable to put up much more than a token resistance."
"The army is irrelevant," snapped Voldemort. "What matters is that we kill Potter."
"As you say, M'lord," answered Draco. He dismissed himself and set to work trying to restore some order to the place. No amount of order, he knew, would prevent the inevitable from happening, but there was no need to be associated with such a disgraceful state of affairs, even in failure. House Elves were whipped into action, and watches were posted.
In his customary fashion, Draco greeted the dawn by inspecting the perimeter. Finding everything in order, or what passed for order, he made his way back to the Manor house to find Lord Voldemort. Within yards of the door, however, a cry of alarm was raised. Spinning around, he found the enemy apparating inside the perimeter, fanning out and isolating his already limited forces.
Cursing his master, he ran for the door. The choice of Anglesey, a site that had already been compromised had been a serious lapse in judgment. Nothing to be done about it now, he thought to himself, but ride things through to their conclusion. Once inside he put up wards that had no chance of stopping the enemy, and sent for Lord Voldemort. They took their positions in the Great Hall, and waited.
A surprisingly short time later, an enormous blast shook the House all the way to its foundation. There was a tramping of many feet, the sound of magic, screams, and then silence. The double doors were thrown open, daylight pouring in to reveal that the entire front of the Manor had been ripped away. When their eyes had adjusted to the sudden influx of light, they found Harry Potter standing in the doorway. Harry strolled in calmly, Ginny Weasley and a retinue of Aurors behind him.
"Welcome back, Potter," drawled Voldemort. "I've been waiting for your return visit."
"I'm sure you have, Riddle," replied Harry. "I'm here now. How do you want to do this, hard or easy?"
"I challenge Harry Potter to a Wizard's duel," announced The Dark Lord. "And I invoke the ancient traditions. No one may interfere, under penalty of death."
Harry smiled. "I accept," he answered. "As the challenged, the choice of weapons is mine. To avoid the problem of brother wands, I choose the blade."
Voldemort grinned and threw back his cloak to reveal a scabbard at his side. He drew his blade, a long knife really, gleaming silvery green, and dripping with venom. The Dark Lord grinned. "Surely you didn't think Godric Gryffindor was the only one to pass down a weapon of power, did you?"
Harry drew his own blade. "Only a Slytherin would bring a knife to a sword fight."
Through the open door, a Phoenix flew in and landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry was shocked. He held up his hand to it in greeting. The Phoenix nibbled lightly at his fingers and seemed to wink at him. The moment was interrupted by the laughter of Lord Voldemort.
"And I thought only Dumbledore was fool enough to bring a bird to a duel." Voldemort smirked. "Even I can be wrong it seems."
"Enough talk," snapped Harry. "Let's fight." He lunged at Voldemort. The Phoenix leapt into the air, and flew in circles overhead. With surprising quickness, Voldemort deflected his attack and launched a counter-attack of his own.
Nimbly, Harry spun out of range. He suddenly had a new respect for Voldemort's ability. He circled wearily, feinting, looking for weaknesses in the Dark Lord's defense, trying to find a way to use the length of his sword to his advantage. Every attack he made was easily deflected.
Lord Voldemort began to launch attacks of his own. He moved with lightning speed, moving his kryss from hand to hand. Dashing into Harry's circle of defense, then whirling back out. Defending himself required all of Harry's skill and concentration
"Come on, Tommy," Harry jibed. "I thought you wanted to duel, not dance"
"Hush, Potter. This blade drank the blood of Godric Gryffindor, and it will drink yours as well."
Harry lunged at Voldemort, feinting high, then striking low, and rolling into a tumble. Voldemort was struck in the leg, in the flesh of his thigh, and screamed in pain. Once Harry was safely out of harm's way he regained his feet, and renewed his attack. His opponent parried, but still took a laceration across his forearm.
"Maybe Godric's blade feels it's time for a bit of payback," commented Harry. Voldemort responded by elbowing him in the face. Harry staggered from the impact and fell back a few steps. Lord Voldemort scampered across the room, drew his wand and cast healing charms on himself.
"Foul play," shouted Harry. "This is a battle of blades, not wands!"
"You are a fool," Voldemort responded. "No Wizard will ever be restricted from using magic." He lunged at Harry, but was deflected. "Besides, I didn't use it as a weapon."
Harry went on the offensive. Voldemort's charms seemed to have done more than simply heal. He moved with more vigor and more determination. He countered Harry's attack and pressed in one of his own. Harry found himself slowly pushed back and forced into a purely defensive role. The blade of Slytherin became a blur, approaching from all angles at once.
Harry parried with every ounce of his skill. The pace was exhausting, and he found his arm growing weary. The Dark Lord continued to press, despite his every effort to escape and regroup. There was a small sting on his shoulder and he looked down to see the smallest of cuts. It seemed truly insignificant, but it began to burn with a fire that spread down his arm and across his chest.
Voldemort's attack lessened as the fire spread and then halted. Harry was unable to use the opportunity to his advantage however. As the fire burned its course, it left a heavy numbness in its wake. Harry stumbled trying to maintain his balance. Harry had the odd sensation of being both numb and on fire at the same time.
Lord Voldemort had lowered his blade, content to watch. "Salazar Slytherin had a penchant for poisons." He said with a smirk on his face. "I've never experienced them myself, but I hear the effects are most unpleasant. Care to share the experience, young Potter?"
Harry's legs felt as if they were made of rubber. He swayed uneasily, trying to speak, but unable, trying to raise his sword, but equally unable to do so. The ground approached him in a rush and he fell landing on his side, then falling over onto his back.
"Remember this feeling, Harry?" the Dark Lord asked. "Helpless and unable to move, awaiting death at my hands? I thought it would be so much more appropriate for you to die this way…"
As soon as Harry began to falter, Ginny raised her wand. Draco raised his own and pointed it at her. "Try me, Weasel Girl," he said coldly. "I'll drop you where you stand." Reluctantly, Ginny dropped her wand.
The phoenix had been circling over head the entire time. It screeched and landed atop Harry's chest. Tears fell from its eyes. Where they landed and soaked through Harry's clothing, he felt radiating warmth. The fire and the warmth struggled for possession of Harry's body. Harry reached out with his mind to aid the struggle as best he could.
Voldemort realized what was happening, and began to kick at the bird. The Phoenix spread its wings and took back to the air. It clawed and snapped at him mercilessly. The Dark Lord tried desperately to defend himself, but the Phoenix was remarkably adept at staying out of range of his blade and circling to attack him from the rear.
Harry lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling as feeling returned to him, permeating each cell. It started as a slow trickle but became a rush. As the rush hit his head, he heard a voice – an old and friendly voice, one he knew well. "Hello, Harry," it said to him. It was the voice of Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor," Harry called out.
"Yes, Harry, it's me. Only you can hear me though…"
"But you're dead," Harry objected.
"Yes and no," replied the voice. "Dead, but not yet passed on to the next adventure. My time and my work are not yet complete. I have this last task remaining."
"I don't understand," replied Harry
"This fight," answered the Professor. "Voldemort must be defeated. I had no chance of defeating him, and alone you had only the slimmest of hope. I chose another path – one that would allow me to be here in your hour of need. I exchanged my remaining days for a single cycle in the life of a Phoenix. Only in this way could I assure that I would be here at this time."
"I am grateful," Harry replied. "I'd be dead by now, without your help." Movement had returned to his limbs and he regained his feet.
"Remember, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "Flesh and blood cannot withstand the poison of Slytherin's blade. You are not however, completely flesh and blood."
Harry grunted in understanding. There was a scream from the Phoenix as the Dark Lord's knife finally bit feather, flesh and bone. Cleaved nearly in two, the Phoenix fell to the floor as dead weight. It let lose a final squawk, then burst into flames. Lord Voldemort kicked at the ashes, scattering them before turning to Harry.
"You are most persistent, young Potter," scowled the Dark Lord. "But my patience wears thin. Enough of toying and distractions, now it is time for you to die."
Voldemort lunged and attacked with renewed ferocity. Harry easily countered him. He had a new strategy now, and he maneuvered himself into position to put it into action. The Dark Lord remained oblivious to Harry's intent, remaining blind in his anger and lust for blood. Harry became aware of his actions as well as his opponent's on an elevated level, almost as if he were watching from above. It was a matter of orchestration – a push here resulted in a twist or a turn, a feint or a half parry and he was able to steer the fight in the direction of his choosing.
Harry lowered his guard and Lord Voldemort seized the opening, bringing his blade down in a long arc from over head. The blade hit hard, meeting resistance and halting. Voldemort laughed aloud. "So, you taste my poison again, Harry. This will be the last time."
Harry grinned back at him. "I have no desire to taste you poison again, Tommy. Maybe you'd like to take a turn…"
Voldemort looked to see the result of his handiwork. A look of dread filled his eyes as he realized his situation. Slytherin's dagger had not met bone or flesh, but instead was held securely by Harry's silver hand. Slowly Harry twisted the blade so that it was pointed at its bearer. Voldemort resisted with all of his might, but it wasn't enough to prevent its slow approach towards his chest.
Harry pushed with grim determination. His eyes remained locked with Voldemort's, watching as his expression made the slow descent from fear to terror. "Draco," he called out. "Now!"
Draco made only the smallest gesture of movement, before Ginny put the point of her wand to his chest. "Move and die," Ginny said coldly. "Please, give me that pleasure." Draco's only response was a broad smile. He remained absolutely frozen.
When Voldemort realized that no help would arrive, his look went to one of simple resignation. As his own blade pricked his flesh, and he felt the fire of poison begin to spread, he muttered a curse. The unrelenting pressure Harry applied to the blade did not cease – having pierced flesh, the knife continued its course. Steel ground against bone, and on into the organs beneath. Lord Voldemort's strength began to falter, and Harry pushed the blade in to its hilt, then let go. The Dark Lord fell to the floor, eyes burning hatred into the ceiling, until at last even that fire went out.
Harry sheathed his sword and turned to find Ginny. Ginny ran to him and threw her arms around him. Harry hugged her back tightly and kissed her. Their embrace was interrupted by a pop of air filling vacuum. They turned to see only empty space where Draco had stood.
Draco appeared in the midst of a battle. Death Eaters, Aurors and other Wizards were fighting hand to hand, fire and magic filled the air. Draco took in the situation as quickly as possible. The ground was littered with bodies - some dead, others subdued by curses. Most of them wore the black robes of Death Eaters.
Draco cursed to himself. It wasn't supposed to have happened this way. The enemy was supposed to pursue Voldemort, not attack his army. His great plan had failed; he had been out-maneuvered. It was a jagged pill, but it had to be swallowed all the same. All that remained was to cut his losses. He had in fact made a plan for this contingency, one he had never expected to use, and one only made as an afterthought.
Draco gathered those forces around him that he could, gave his orders and had the word passed. This was done quickly, as there were precious few remaining to receive it. One by one, those few disapparated, Draco included, until none were left.
Author's Note: Only the epilogue left now for Part 1, but Part 2 is in progress. I'm probably not going to be able to keep up my chapter-a-week schedule. It'll probably be more along the lines of about once a month. I also haven't decided whether or not to post Legacies 2 as a separate story, or just keep adding Chapters. 'Legacies' was, from the beginning, conceived as a trilogy or more accurately as three self-contained stories making up one larger story.
I hope that You-Know-Who's death was suitably difficult for everyone. The single largest complaint I've received about 'Seekers' is that the big baddie was taken out too easily.
Anyway, expect the epilogue for Part 1 to be posted next week some time.
The Novice
