36 Fate's Duel

They stood facing each other in an almost clear space among the headstones. The death eaters ringed the area, creating a circle in which they'd fight. Sneers and jeers sounded around Harry, but he ignored the sounds. He was focused, centered. His senses dialed up; his magic permeated the space.

This was a new feeling for Harry, the feelings of his magic. It flowed and surrounded, giving him more information than he was used to. He could feel the men behind him, also see their movements as they interacted with the magic surrounding them. He saw Malfoy draw his wand as his back swung towards him.

"Don't even think about it, Malfoy," he called, grinning at the stunned expressions around him. "This is between me and your Master, or don't you think he can handle a fourteen year old boy?" His eyes never left Voldemort, still circling each other. "Can't defeat me in three tries, so you have to cheat?"

"No one interferes!" Voldemort bellowed. "He is mine alone."

"Pull them to one side," Harry demanded, his mind racing at the possibilities and how to manipulate the situation so he could survive long enough for his help to arrive. "I don't trust any of them not to chance your displeasure for a chance to curse me in the back, since they fear to face my front."

"Go, stand by the statue," Riddle demanded. "Any who interfere shall die." He turned back to face Harry. "And now, we duel." No sooner had he said this before his wand was moving and casting as Harry nimbly dodged the attack.


Hermione staggered as they landed, nearly losing her dinner after the feeling of being squeezed through a straw.

"That's terrible," she moaned.

"You get used to it," Madam Bones replied, scanning the area. "No one is nearby, where now?"

Hermione stood shakily, then took a deep breath and focused. Her hand rose, pointing to their right and slightly behind them. She turned, facing the direction she indicated and opened her eyes.

"There, the house on the hill," she cocked her head, "no, there's a family graveyard near it, they're there."

"Right," Amelia took charge, "we'll apparate to the house and…"

"No," Hermione cut her off, "there's some nasty magic surrounding that house, it's sickly and deadly. I can feel it from here. If we apparate, I bet something nasty will happen to us."

"You can feel it?" Tonks asked in disbelief.

"Later," McGonagall waved off the question, "for now, we need to get going."

The group took off, jogging at their best pace, though several times they had to call Hermione back as she began to outrun them. Each time it was harder for Hermione to slow, to stop from rushing to Harry's aide. She could feel his battle, his determination to stop this threat to her. And she feared they'd fail, that she'd never see him again.

It took ten minutes for them to reach the hill, and another two before they were stopped. A nearly invisible wall of force prevented them from continuing. Hermione had actually run right into it, rebounding but staying on her feet. It hardly phased her as she tried again and again to batter her way through. As the others reached her, she gave up on trying to physically break the barrier, and started hurling magic at it. At first they were recognizable curses and hexes, charms and spells, each trying to find a way through. As she exhausted her extensive list of potential spells, she resorted to merely throwing pure magical energy. Blast after blast of eldritch might hammered the wards preventing their progress, causing them to glow visibly.

"Tonks, return to the Ministry and bring any auror you can here," Bones commanded, then turned to McGonagall. "Can we get anyone from Hogwarts?"

"It'll be ten minutes even if they came as soon as I got to them. Which we both know they won't. Plus, I doubt that'd be in time."

"No, no, no," Hermione was crying now, still beating against the wards. "There has to be a way in." She screamed as her link flooded with pain, tearing at her very being. "God that hurts, can't imagine how it felt for Harry."

"I'm sorry, dear," McGonagall said sadly, "but even I can feel the power of these wards. Unless we have the key, we could batter these until midnight and not make a dent."

"Midnight?" Hermione paused, her mind racing. "That's it, I can get in."

"What? How?" Bones asked in shock, head whipping around.

"I just need a little help," Hermione muttered, turning her thoughts and focus inwards, to her mindscape and the waiting shadow panther. Midnight sat in the clearing, seemingly calm and poised, though her flitting tail showed her impatience.

#It is time# she purred.

"Yes it is, I need you. Will you help me?"

#Of course, we are one after all# and with that, Midnight leapt into Hermione's chest, her power and grace filling Hermione as two became one.

The air around Hermione began to swirl and wisps of black seemed to radiate from her as Bones and McGonagall watched. Her hair darkened, and more grew as she took a deep breath. As she exhaled, the air simmered again, and where Hermione once stood, a panther of darkest black, enveloped in shadows, stood before them. Midnight shook herself, getting a feel for her own skin as Bones stared flabbergasted.

"You're a… But that's a…"

"Later," McGonagall cut off her stammering. "Midnight, go, help Harry. Try to bring down the wards from inside."

With a nod, Midnight jumped into Minerva's shadow, disappearing into it. Amelia Bones stared stunned at the spot, and in the distance, a snarl of challenge was heard.

"Minerva, did we just see a fifteen year old become an animagus as a Magical creature?" Bones asked, stunned.

"No," Minerva comforted her friend, "you just saw a fifteen year old complete her first animagus transformation for her first magical creature."

"Tell me you don't mean…" Amelia started, but trailed off in disbelief.

"They both have three, all magical."

"Three? But that's impossible."

"Tell that to them, they've met all six in meditation."

"My word. We definitely need to talk more later." She turned as the cracks of apparition sounded behind her, and a dozen Aurors joined her. "Start working on the wards, and pray we're not too late."


Harry dodged to his right to avoid the sickly yellow curse and sent a trio of blasting curses back at Voldemort. He missed, but then again, he hadn't been aiming at Voldemort. The cries as the curses impacted the ground at the gathered death eaters feet was rather satisfying, almost as much as seeing Malfoys golden tresses tumbling crown over arse.

"Not very sporting, Potter," Voldemort sneered.

"More so than their preferred method of attacking those who can't fight back," Harry returned, sending a cutting curse at Riddle to keep him honest. "Real brave they are there."

"Brave enough to finish you." The rejoinder sounded hollow to Harry, almost wistful.

"Like you did all those years ago?" Harry smiled as the hit went home, then had to dodge hard to avoid the massive wave of spells hurled at him. He had to finish this soon he realized, even if he hadn't spent the time in the maze, he was outmatched. He was cut and bleeding in half a dozen spots, and he had what he imagined was a bruise the size of Scotland on his left shoulder.

"Crucio!"

Harry didn't quite make the dodge. Fire and pain hit every nerve, every part of him ached and spasmed. Once, as a small boy, he'd gotten shocked by the wall outlet when Dudley had tried to force his hand into it. He hadn't been able to feel his hand for hours afterward. As painful as that was, it was nothing against the pain flowing through his body now.

He felt a small mental caress as the spell ebbed, Hermione was near. He only had to hold out a few more minutes. Or he had to finish it soon before she got injured. That thought was all he had time for before Voldemort resumed his torture of his body. Pain, magical and physical, wracked his mind, He saw flashes of white, then it all stopped with a yowl of rage.

Turning back towards his tormentor, he saw a jet of black cross him, and the reptilian face of his adversary now sported a quartet of slashes across his face. Not deep, and missing any vitals, but they bled just the same. The flash of black landed, and for the first time they could see Voldemort's attacker, a jet black panther.

Midnight.

He watched her leap into a shadow, and reappear behind the dark wizard, bounding at his back. Something must have warned the dark lord, for he turned, bringing his wand up just in time to catch the pouncing beast in the ribs. Her cry of pain mixed with his as she impacted Voldemort, inflicting another set of slashes before landing heavily and crashing to her side as her foreleg buckled. Harry could see the blood coating her pelt as she struggled to move.

"Such courage, such tenacity," Voldemort complimented snidely, "You must be Potters whore. Animo Reverte."

Hermione cried out in pain as she was forced from midnight to her human form. She cradled her side, red blood seeping from a gash across her ribs. Defiantly, she stood on shaky legs, then turned her wand on the dark lord. A flick of his wand and it was ripped from her hands.

"You will regret interfering in my fun, little girl," he purred. "Crucio"

The fire and pain returned to Harry, echoing from Hermione as her screams cut the night. He felt her nerves burn, her muscles spasm. He felt the magic ripping at her, causing every bit of her pain. He felt his heart drumming his ears, and saw the magic flow from Voldemort to his love, saw the glee on his face as he tortured her.

His head pounding form the beat of his heart, their link singing with the power and pain of the torture curse, Harry pulled all the power he could find to him. Everything he could from the surrounding area, from the beacons of power that were the death eaters, and even from his link to Hermione. But from that link he didn't pull any power from her, no, he pulled the power from the spell hitting her.

A few weeks ago, Professor Flitwick had begun teaching them to interact with the magic field as he called it. Hermione jokingly called it the force, after the Star Wars movies. Once they explained it to Flitwick, he actually admitted it sounded like a good analogy. By interacting with the magic field, by manipulating the energies, they were able to perform magics there was no spell for. They'd barely begun to interact, only performing actions they could replicate with spells. They had barely levitated a feather their last meeting.

What Harry was about to try was far more than mere levitation. He pulled and focused the power, gathering it around him, causing his aura to flare. He felt Hermione's relief and saw Voldemort's dismay as his spell faded, its energy drawn to Harry. Focusing on his nemesis, Harry compressed the energy, forming a sphere between his left hand and the tip of his wand.

"LEAVE. HER. ALONE." Harry growled, and released the compacted energy at the dark lord.

Voldemort, ever the master duelist, managed to spin and cast a return spell at Harry.

"Avada Kedavra."

The power from Harry and the killing curse from Voldemort met between them and connected. The lances of energy became golden, and a sweet melodious sound emitted from them. The energy built in the middle, and a golden cage sprung up around the duelers. Harry poured everything he could into his attack, while Voldemort did the same. The golden orb between them grew slightly, and swayed, but traveled neither to nor fro. A stalemate.

Then Harry felt hands on his shoulders, smooth and loving. Closing his eyes, he savored Hermione's touch, and relished in her support. It started to tingle where she touched, and he felt her feeding him power.

Slowly at first, then faster, the orb moved towards Voldemort, before connecting with his wand and bursting. The contained energy washed over Voldemort, ripping and pulling at him.

Newly reborn and still in a body stabilizing itself, Voldemort was forced to expend massive amounts of his energy just to retain his form. He did not, unfortunately for him, have any concentration to deal with the side effects.

It is a little known fact that acromantula blood is highly reactive to magic. Magic heats it incredibly hot, and it burns like muggle phosphorus. Unfortunately for the dark lord, Wormtail was rather inept and had added a little bit of it to Harry's blood in the potion. This resulted in the same acromantula blood being present in Voldemort's new body. When it was exposed to the energy of Harry's magical assault on Voldemort, it did as all acromantula blood does, and burned.

The Dark Lord Voldemort, formerly Tom Riddle, screamed as his blood boiled and burned. He fell to his knees as the power ebbed, and his body smoked. Burns traced the routes of arteries and veins, his hands charred and near useless. And his followers looked on in horror as their master appeared defeated.

But it was not over. Both Harry and Hermione could barely stand, stumbling to stay upright. Then they heard shouts, calls to surrender from Aurors running towards them. The wards must have fallen during that titanic clash.

Malfoy stepped up next to his fallen master, grabbed his shoulder, and disapperated in a crack. This snapped others out of their stupor, and cracks of apparition sounded as all who had witnessed ran.

Sagging in fatigue, the couple staggered to the side as Aurors rushed onto the scene, catching the two worst hurt of the death eater onlookers. As McGonagall and Madam Bones made their way over to the exhausted pair, Hermione caught a glint behind them. Turning, she spotted the TriWizard cup.

"Harry, Love," She said, reaching for the cup, "I think this belongs to you."

Harry had half a second to realize what was about to happen, before they both felt a hook behind their navels, and disappeared.