Chapter Fifteen

Winners and Losers

Angelica was sobbing.

Harry immediately went to one knee, scanning her small form for any hurts or injuries. There was nothing, beyond grass stains, dirt, and bits of grass still clinging to her colorful clothing. Harry pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and clenching his eyes shut.

"You're safe, angelica. You're safe." He whispered gently.

Angelica continued to cry, clutching Harry and burying her face into his shoulder. Her small arms shuddered and the hot tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Harry looked up to see a pair of bright violet eyes looking down at him, surprise and fear barely contained in them.

"Harry? What's going on?" Kathryn asked. The slim raven hair woman immediately moved to his side, worry emanating from her.

"There was an attack upon the Dursleys." Harry whispered. Kathryn gasped in shock, looking down at Angelica who was still sobbing. 'She's the only one."

"Was it…" Kathryn could barely say the name.

Harry nodded, gently pulling Angelica away from him. He looked down at her dark eyes that still held the fear and the terror she had experienced, the horror she had just witnessed. Harry looked down at her and realized she still didn't' know about her family. A pain stabbed within him and he barely held back the emotion that flooded him.

"He's attacked another place. Denis is there now. He needs help." Harry explained.

Kathryn nodded, absorbing the information.

"Jelly." He whispered hoarsely. "Jelly, you're going to have to be a big girl now. I'm going to have to go. There's people that need me." The thought was still hovering in the back of his mind, pushed back by all that had happened, but still there. Emily. Hermione. Asedemon.

"I want my mommy." Angelica sobbed.

"I… Stay with Kathryn." Harry said. "You'll be safe with her." He cupped her small face in his hands. "I'll be back, Jelly. I'll be back and everything will be alright."

Kathryn moved in, immediately pulling Angelica into an embrace. Angelica instinctively curled up in her arms and buried her head into Kathryn's shoulder. Clutching tightly to a warm body, to comfort, and to safety. Harry rose to his feet, feeling oddly hollow and empty.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Harry said, pulling his eyes away from Angelica.

"Be safe Harry." Kathryn said, softly patting Angelica's head. The small girl had her face turned from him, her small shoulders beginning to shake again.

The last thing he heard before vanishing was Angelica sobbing.

XXX

She was gone. He was lessened. And she was too powerful.

A furious renewed attack and Ron fell back, barely keeping his shields up and fending off the terrible energies that would have left him dead in an instant. The Red Witch came at him, her pale beautiful face now graced with a satisfied smirk.

A blast of red light, hot and sending waves of agony across his body, was barely deflected. The power was strong, incredibly strong.

"Not so strong now are you?' The Red Witch mocked, slicing at him with a renewed attack. Ron dodged them, striking back with a few quick and deadly jabs, which were easily shoved away.

Ron ignored the taunts, He tried concentrating upon what needed doing. Defeating the woman, that's what mattered. Yet his thoughts kept rushing back to Hermione. Where had she gone? Was Emily safe? Distractions, concern, fear. They all bubbled up in him and he fell back, barely fending off attack upon attack.

Ron felt a fear.

A fear that he would lose.

XXX

He had seen this before. He had witnessed this terrible onslaught of power, anger, and deadly determination. Then it had been in a different person, a boy who was barely a man. The result was nearly the same.

Anger, rage, hate. They were emotions that clouded the mind, most of the time. But they were also emotions that channeled the energies, focused power, and turned a people into whirlwinds of destruction.

Neville followed in Dennis' wake. His own wand clenched in his hand and casting spell upon spell, as fast as they could form in his mind. Behind the two lay a land of ripped and shredded. A land smoking and cratered, broken and burning.

They kept fighting. They kept pushing, forcing the creature who had brought this destruction upon them, back. Forcing him to retreat before their combined might. They were winning, weren't they? If they were winning, why was the creature laughing?

In a eye blink everything changed. In an instant fortunes were reversed. As in all battles, a lucky move, a careless attack, mistakes or a tiny opening. They changed everything.

Dennis screamed, not out of pain or terror, but out of anger. Anger that he had lost his chance. Neville shot him a look and watched in horror as Dennis stumbled away, a strange black fire flickering upon his robes.

Dennis screamed, his wand still clutched in his hand, his eyes still locked upon the monster. He still tried to fight him, ignoring the deadly magic enveloping him. Dennis moved on, his robes crumbling around him, his flesh falling away, yet he still fought. A single-minded determination that caused Neville to stop and gape.

Spells tumbled through Neville's mind. Spells to stop this enchantment, but none came. His concentration diverted, he did not see the coming attack.\

There was a dull roar and then a feeling of weightlessness. Neville then crashed upon the charred ground, clods of dirt showing around him, and the taste of hot copper in his mouth. His senses were shaken, his vision blurred, and his mind trying to focus upon what was happening. He heard screaming, he heard the roar of power and fighting.

He rubbed away the dirt and blood from his eyes, catching a final glimpse of Dennis crumbling away like dust before the creature Asedemon. Neville clamored to his feet. Dennis was dead, yes, but the fight still needed to be fought. How many boys and girls, men and women he knew fell in battle around him? The fight was all that mattered. The dead would be mourned later. If there was a later.

Neville got to his feet, the world swaying before him. His mind trying desperately to focus. The wizard Asedemon turned upon him and Neville knew he had lost.

XXX

Hermione rolled away, a flash of pain coursing through her and the sickening smell of death from the creature beside her filling her nostrils. With a flash of silver and a heavy thud, the blade buried itself into the oak floorboards of the cottage.

She saw the pale glimpse of a hand upon the blade before it was released and vanished. Instantly she knew what she was dealing with.

"Accio Cloak!" She yelled, extending her red stained hand. She felt something soft fill her hand and suddenly a small, pale man appeared not far from her. His eyes staring at her in shock.

For a moment there was silence and then he lunged for the blade, hands wrapping around the hilt and arms bunching to yank it out of the heavy floorboards. Hermione cast her hand about and felt the smooth familiar wood beneath her hand.

"Mommy!" Emily cried. Hermione looked up and saw the man had freed the blade.

At the sound of Emily's voice he turned toward her, blade in hand. Hermione felt a cold feeling descend upon her.

She lurched forward, ignoring the searing pain, ignoring the agony, and focused her mind. The tip of the wand touched the man and he jerked back, as if yanked by an invisible cord. He crashed into the far wall, convulsing and screaming. Hermione continued forward, her eyes only for the small girl who stared at her, green eyes wide.

"Emily!" She cried, pulling the little girl close. "Close your eyes and cover your ears."

The man continued to flail and scream.

XXX

Neville fell to his knees, pain searing across his body. He shuddered a breath, trying to focus upon what was happening. He knew he should have been dead. He knew that he could have killed him if he wanted to. He was being toyed with, mocked before he was allowed to die.

With pain coursing through him, Neville tried to get to his feet. But was knocked down by another blast, heat and light, and the world shuddered around him. He looked up as his vision cleared and saw red piercing eyes looking down at him. He saw his death, and all he could think of was Ginny. How would she feel about this? How would the kids handle it?

Hands cold as death and hard as steel gripped his neck. He tried fighting back, but his arms barely responded, too weak and too injuried.

I'm sorry, Ginny.

"Step back." A cold voice said. Neville squinted and saw Harry standing there, his wand held before him.

Relief flooded him, moments before pure hot pain burned through him.

XXX

Ron coughed up blood. A thick metal taste flooded his mouth and he tried to get to his feet, his legs shaking and his head spinning.

"Rise to your feet, Weasley. Get up." The woman sneered. "You don't want to die upon your knees like your brothers, begging for mercy."

Ron felt a flash of anger, pushing aside the pain and the screaming refusal of his limbs to do as they were command, and got to his feet. He would not die on his knees.

Before him stood the red witch, wand raised. He saw the death blow coming.

He would not die on his knees.

XXX

When the War was over there was a great many questions about how he had felt when he finally faced off with the Dark Lord Voldemort. When he had given his answer people were more confused than satisfied.

When it had come down to the Final Battle, as everyone called it, Harry had only felt an intense sense of relief. Relief that it was finally coming to an end. The years of warfare, the years of terror, fear, pain, death, destruction. It was all coming to an end as the two greatest living wizards faced off against one another.

Too much had happened for Harry to be scared of death anymore. If anything death would be more of a release than something to fear. If he won or if he didn't, then he would finally be free. Free of the pressure, free of the expectation, free of the hopeful looks everyone gave him, those sad little loyal eyes and hearts that had followed him to their deaths. He would finally be free of the responsibility that kept him awake night after night and broke his heart as one by one they fell because of him.

There was little fear left, there was little awe, or terror for the creature that had brought the wizarding world to it's knees and had caused the death of so many. There was no anger at the blood that went un-revenged, the long rolls of the dead that cried out for justice. There was only simple relief that had flooded him.

This was it. This was the end. Win or lose. After this it would finally be over. He could rest. He could finally find a peace.

As he stood upon that charred and ruined landscape, Harry discovered there was not relief coursing through him. There was a burning rage, a fiery hate that had him clenching his wand in a white-knuckle grip and a feral snarl upon his face.

This would end now. Too many people had already died. He would destroy him, utterly. A cold rage burned in him.

XXX

She saw the death blow falling. She saw him standing there, undefended and barely upright, a strange look of defiance upon his bloodied face. Hermione gripped her wand and pushed herself out of the kitchen door. The fight was not over.

Curses flew from her wand, as fast as she could send them. She had the advantage of surprise, it would be over in a moment. It wasn't.

Hermione was shocked at how fast she was, a blur of red and the curses were shattered, like glass upon concrete. The deadly spells deflected and even more deadly ones being shot at her.

But as quickly as the fight began it was over. Suddenly a terrible explosion rocked the grounds, sending Hermione crashing into the stone wall of the cottage and sending the red witch and Ron tumbling through the air like rag dolls.

Earth and stone pelted her. She quickly wiped them away, pain coursing through her. She got to her feet and stared at the scene before her in terrible awe.

She had not been there during the last fight between Voldemort and Harry. That had been Ron and Neville, she had been fending off Death Eaters and trying to save the ragged remains of the DA from extinction. But she had heard of the terrible fury that had rocked the foundations of the school, that had destroyed the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries.

Hermione had never seen Harry in his full fury. She had never seen the unmasked hatred and terrible power he held in check. She stared in both awe and fear. The two figures clashed, crackling with power. This was not the delicate duels between wizards, this was a raw and brutal fight between two giants.

She watched the fight and knew Harry was losing.

XXX

Emotions clouded the mind. Those were one of the few things that had stuck with Harry when he seriously began training for the Final showdown between him and the Dark Lord. Emotions weaken the mind and cloud your action. In a fight they are not needed, what is needed is reflex.

Training yourself to become more machine than person. Training yourself to a point where thought no longer entered the equation. Thoughts occupied the mind. Emotions clouded it.

Two things that lead to dead wizards and witches when it came to fighting. In the pure brutality of fighting, there was no need for thought or emotion, only action.

Harry knew at once he was going to lose. In his mind flashed the faces. the few remaining people he had loved. Gone.

Rage boiled, anger flowed, hate coursed. And he didn't care. He only wanted the creature before him destroyed.

He came in fast and he came in hard. Like Dennis before him, a sledgehammer . Spells and cruses crashed and thundered around him, cratering the ground and causing the air to crackle with barely contained energies. He only saw the dark robes before him. He only saw that terrible images of those he loved in his mind.

The very earth seemed to shake at his attacks.

Then he misstepped, misjudged. In a moment it was over. The furious battle, the terrible fight was over. And Harry upon the ground saw his death coming. And felt relief.

XXX

There was relief at last, an unexpected feeling. Harry looked up at the wand pointing down at him and he didn't feel fear. He didn't feel anything, beyond an unexpected sense of relief. The same relief that had flooded him when he had faced Voldemort all those years ago.

This was it. This was the end. He had lost. After this it would finally be over. He could rest. He could finally find peace.

"This is how the Great Harry Potter dies?" Asedemon mocked. "I expected more of a fight, at least this time you did not run as you had before" He laughed, a deep rasping sound.

Harry watched him, waiting. There was always the last moment mock before the killing. A moment for you to let the fact that you've won sink in, to give your opponent a moment to know that they've lost and you've triumphed over them. It's small, it's petty, and not only do the dark lords and witches do it.

"You'll –" Asedemon suddenly turned his head, as if catching a scent upon the air. His eyes flashed in anger and he turned back to Harry. "We'll finish this another time, Potter." With those words he turned, his dark cloak flapping around him and stalked across the charred grass.

A moment later a limping woman in red robes joined him. Then they both vanished in a loud snap. Leaving an eerie silence behind them.

Harry felt a disappointment. His weakened arms fell out of under him and he collapsed to the ground. The scent of blood, burned earth, and grass filling his senses before darkness enveloped him.

XXX

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione cried, collapsing at his side. His glasses were cracked, his hair disheveled, and the marks of the brutal fight left his clothing in tatters and blood seeping from small wounds.

Her shaking hands moved toward his neck, immediately finding a strong and steady pulse.

"He will be fine, Hermione. He will be fine." A voice said.

Hermione looked up and saw a kindly face looking down at her.

Hermione sat back upon her heels and looked at the death and devastation that had been visited upon her home. She looked back at the long bearded man settling down beside her and she knew she was going to be safe.