It's raining when she leaves the house. It's not a frightening storm with lightning and strong wind, though. It's a thin, silent, cold, and almost impalpable rain that soaks her hair in a few seconds.
Somehow it feels right.
It's a funeral rain.
Harriet takes two steps at a time and apparates just as she feels Regulus's wards falling behind. She's suddenly in a hurry to get to the heart of London. She doesn't want Tom to catch her. By now, he'd get her to abandon her responsibilities too effortlessly.
Her actions are robotic, Harry feels on autopilot, and her Patronus fails three times before Prongs leaves with a message for Ron and Hermione. The girl watches the silver light rapidly fade into the dark as her shaky breath sends small clouds of smoke into the freezing air. It's almost over.
She refuses to look back.
She meets her friends at a twenty-four-hour coffee shop she used to hang out with Granger during school break. Despite the confused and slightly suspicious expressions on both their faces, they seem relieved to see her alive and alone . Resenting it would be absurd, given the situation, and that's why the girl decides to focus on her happiness for the reunion.
Still, she has the impression that she left a vital part of herself in that house with the boys. Otherwise, how could she willingly walk to her own death? Potter wasn't familiar with the concept of selfishness because she'd never been able to afford it, but the last few weeks had given her a taste of what her life could be, what it should be.
A twisted part of her conscience wonders if maybe Dumbledore hadn't left her with the Dursleys on purpose. Sacrificing yourself when you don't value your life is much easier than doing it when you desperately want to live. Ron and Hermione look at her so expectantly that Harriet hates herself for thinking that way, even if for a brief second. Besides, that would be an all-too-convenient excuse in the end. It's easier to see Dumbledore as a manipulative monster and not the flawed man he was, with too much power and little sense of what to do with it, like so many others who came before him and will continue to come after his passing.
Harry knows she owes explanations, and her friends stare at her silently as if expecting her to start acting crazy again. The girl tells them that Tom is dead, that she used him to get the cup and then destroyed the locket.
Potter is aware that her story seems insane. But Ron and Hermione are so desperate to have her back that they ignore it. They both apologize for the forest incident and hug her, ignoring all the inconsistencies in the girl's lies.
She feels like the worst kind of liar.
That moment of lethargy dissipates with dizzying swiftness when Harriet tells her friends why she called them there. Hermione summons allies, old and new, through the same worn coins she crafted for Dumbledore's Army in fifth year. Everything involving that small troop of children seemed to have happened a lifetime ago.
They were completely different people now.
Harry receives handshakes and reverent greetings as if more than half of those people hadn't accused her of being crazy and the next Voldemort just a few months ago. The team of Aurors who left the Ministry to join the rebels put a plan together, handing out orders. The only waitress inside the cafe seems confused by the fact that the once-deserted establishment has suddenly filled up.
Harriet stops paying attention to her surroundings. Let them take care of how . She has a date with Voldemort, and that's all that matters to her.
''Hogsmeade is inaccessible. A whole unit of Death Eaters occupied the place after we fled with Dumbledore's Army. There are anti-Apparition Wards everywhere''. Neville Longbottom declares, more serious and mature than Potter ever thought she'd see him. She remembers him as a twelve-year-old kid, afraid of his own shadow, and feels pride. Neville's shoulders are narrower, and the boy has become more resilient, but that's happened to all of them.
In a different world, he would be the Chosen One, and Harry wonders if Neville would be more successful, if they would still be allies, or if she is doomed to end up in the same position she occupies now. Strangely, the girl decides that she wouldn't change a thing.
The small war council is gathered around a crudely hand-drawn map that someone has placed on the table. Aurors and civilians patrol inside and outside the cafe as if they fear an attack at any moment.
She rubs her lips impatiently. The absolute silence in her head makes her feel like an addict looking for her next fix. The absence of Regulus and Tom hurts like a phantom limb. It's hard to stay focused when the two of them are the only thing on her mind.
''We could use brooms, but they would see us coming''. Ginny suggests, crossing her arms and blowing a strand of red hair out of her face in frustration. She is clearly trying not to look at Harriet, but the girl saves her the trouble by doing the same.
Things have gotten a little awkward between them since their last camp, and Harry knows that Ron and Hermione have most likely told Ginny about her running off with a piece of Tom Riddle's soul.
Fortunately, the priority there is another. Ever since Potter declared how crucial it was to reach Hogwarts before dawn, everyone was on edge, including Harriet. She has her wand in her hand, but she feels numb too. Maybe it's the knowledge that she'll be dead very soon.
'' Let's divide into two groups. The first group will coordinate an aerial attack with brooms while the other marches on foot using disillusionment spells. Hogsmeade is the only way to reach Hogwarts now, but it's going to be dark, and they will be more concerned about what's coming from above to pay attention''. Auror Proudfoot declared.
''Okay, I'm in''. Harry's statement takes everyone by surprise, and the girl contains the urge to insolently roll her eyes as they begin to protest, stating that it would be stupid to expose her to danger in this way. ''There is no greater distraction than me. The Death Eaters will be too busy trying to capture me for their Dark Lord to see the rest of you coming''.
''I still think this is a stupid plan''. Proudfoot insists, closing his hand into a fist over the table.
Harriet shrugs. ''I'm known for being reckless, not smart''.
Desperation won that argument for her. As always, there wasn't a better option available.
When most of those present had begun to organize the logistics behind the takeover of Hogsmeade, Harry called Ron and Hermione in for a private conversation. ''There's one last thing I need you to do''.
'' Of course. Anything ''. Hermione promises, taking Potter's hand with a firmness that should have brought comfort. The girl expects some potentially impossible mission. Her look makes it obvious.
Potter swallows hard. There's no easy way to ask for what she needs, but those two are the only people she trusts to carry out. So she takes a deep breath and lifts her chin, struggling to keep her voice steady. '' If he takes me, prisoner, if he somehow captures me, I need you to find me, and I need you to kill me ''.
There's a paused heartbeat, two pairs of wide eyes staring at her in bewilderment. Ron reacts first, suddenly shaking her by the shoulders as if he hoped that would make her say it was all a misunderstanding. ''Have you lost your mind, Harry? How can you ask us this? Why would you ask for something like that?!''.
Hermione is still shocked behind him, but she keeps silent. She was always the most rational of their little group. Harriet wished she had more patience to deal with this, to explain the details and consequences, but she was tired. Too exhausted to circle the truth and lay out every one of her reasons for giving up her life at eighteen.
''Ron, I am the last Horcrux. The prophecy says he has to kill me. That's the only way he can die. As long as I'm breathing, I'll keep him anchored here. But if he finds out, or if, for some reason, he decides to take me, prisoner, you must kill me. Otherwise, he doesn't die too''.
It takes a few seconds for her words to penetrate Ron's mind, and then he is crying, his arms squeezing tightly around her. He has the scent of the burrow, which Harry has learned to relate to safety, and she presses her cheek against the rough fabric of his sweater, allowing herself to feel fear, anger, and all the other emotions she has been keeping at bay. Ron tries to say something, but he's choking on his despair, and the words never come together.
A shadow falls over Granger's face as she approaches, asking in a calculatedly deadpan voice. ''Since when did you know?''.
''Snape told me the day I killed Dolohov''.
"But that was months ago! We could have done something. I could have found a way to get that thing out of you." The girl exclaims, completely forgetting her controlled posture from before.
" We didn't have time. We still don't have it".
'' Let's forget this attack and go back to the safe house, find another way ''. Ron insists. It's a little strange how certain he looks because his hands are shaking, and Harry can see the tears rolling down his face.
She puts a hand over her best friend's red face. "It's okay. I wanted to be here to see you become an Auror and Hermione change the world, but that's not going to happen. I'm sorry''.
''Oh no, Harry. Don't talk about yourself as if you were already dead''. Granger pleads, practically pulling her out of Ron's arms to hug her.
The boy remains in denial. "We were supposed to be partners, get into Auror Academy together... We were supposed to keep Mione from studying herself to death in some boring niche at the Ministry. You were supposed to be my children's godmother."
Harriet doesn't know what to say. She's afraid to open her mouth, start crying and never stop. Hermione senses this because she answers for all three. ''We'll do it if necessary''. Granger had never looked so sad or so strong. Harry feels a mixture of relief and gratitude that makes her shudder, moved by that gesture of love.
'' Thank you ''.
She didn't want to say goodbye to anyone, even knowing this was her last chance. She was always terrible at expressing what she felt. It was easier for Harry isolating herself in the background while everyone talked. She was content just watching them one last time.
The air was bitingly cold on her face, but Harriet was always a natural on a broom. The small team assembled to coordinate the air strike was moving swiftly across the darkened sky, a mix of Aurors and civilians flanking Potter, Ginny, and Oliver Wood.
Hogsmeade was just below them, barely lit spots in a neighborhood that looked more like a ghost town. She could feel the edges of the shield expanding and moving along with the brooms as they flew in sync, but the little bit of confidence about what they were doing there disappeared as the lights below lit up one by one to show the Death Eaters waiting for them.
Panic bubbled in the pit of Harry's stomach. Snape's information had been a trap, and she led everyone right into it.
She knew the black shadow tearing through the night air was Voldemort as he held himself suspended without support. It was such a terrifying sight, misshapen and faceless. It hovered there for a few seconds before advancing toward the girl. Harriet acted quickly, dodging at the last second and preventing the others from attacking him by casting another shield. She didn't care about the Dark Lord's physical integrity, only the possibility of some fatal retaliation from him on her friends. The man, however, didn't even seem to notice them.
He was too focused on the girl.
He plucked Potter off the broom by the throat as if she were weightless and lifted her into the sky, rising faster and faster. Harry struggled, clawing at her captor's hands to free herself. The lack of oxygen made her head burn, and when she raised her wand to hit him with a spell, Voldemort twisted her wrist until she heard the sound of her bone breaking.
Her scream of pain came out muffed, made her throat shudder beneath his fingers, but Potter didn't feel fazed. Regulus had taught her spell because, apparently, Tom was too cocky about his unsupported flying. Unable to cast it by voice, Harriet did so silently, her broken wrist quivering with the excruciating pain of keeping her wand steady in her hand. It happened too fast. Just a second, and then she and Voldemort were falling.
Harry felt her bones creaking from the altitude, her ears ringing, and her icy clothes clinging to her skin uncomfortably. The sudden fall made her slip, but Voldemort caught her wrist at the last second. Pain exploded through her entire arm, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. The wind pushed her hair into her eyes, and she could feel the ground closing in on her, but he cast a dampening spell, and they both fell over, rolling onto the cobblestone ground.
Potter crawled away, mending the broken bone at the first opportunity. She's alone with Voldemort in a remote part of Hogsmead, but she can hear the sound of battle from afar.
'' Where's Snape? ''.
Voldemort materializes from the shadows, the air around him crackling with Dark Magic. He is tall and impressive, with an expressionless face and impeccable dark hair. The Dark Lord looks like Tom, and she feels bile rising in her throat because she doesn't want to be killed by him as he wears the face of the boy she loves.
Voldemort smiles fatally. '' Where do you think? ''.
He knows. The girl thinks, referring to the fact that Snape had passed that information on to her, information that was probably false, but Harriet doubts that he knows about her status as a Horcrux. If that were the case, they'd have a very different conversation.
The fight has caught up with them, but she isn't stupid enough to make the first move. Her wrist still hurts, and the girl feels like an unprepared child. Voldemort looks around in disgust before his dark eyes fall on the girl again. '' We could be at peace now if you weren't so fucking stubborn. You should be by my side, unifying our people ''.
Potter considers telling him to go fuck himself.
Voldemort doesn't want peace. He wants the freedom to impose his dictatorship with no opposition. Voldemort, like many others, thought that Harriet was the key to this and was disappointed to find that, in the end, she was just an ordinary girl. She was just like hundreds of other faceless women fighting that war.
'' You know, I didn't betray you. The camp's council went behind my back and fucked our deal ''. Harry says, forcing herself to stand.
She needs time to find some advantages in her environment. Harry isn't so arrogant as to think she can get the better of the Dark Lord in a fair fight.
His expression fills with interest and disdain, two contradictory emotions. ''You mean you would do it differently, given the opportunity? ''. Voldemort approaches and extends a hand to help her. Against her better judgment, Harriet accepts.
Nothing there is making much sense, anyway.
"No, I'd just be more discreet about it."
"How pragmatic of you. I can see why the late Severus admired you so much."
The surprise the girl can't hide brings a new kind of smile across his well-shaped mouth. '' Oh yes. He had great admiration for your lack of will to live. What did you say to him? That you would kill me for your mother, who died begging me for your life? ''.
''You don't understand, but I didn't expect you to. Your mother didn't love you enough to even live for you ''.
It's a childish response, but Harriet doesn't want him to talk about Lily. She doesn't want him to make fun of her sacrifice. Anger fills the Dark Lord's eyes, and the girl takes advantage of his tiny distraction to attack him.
Her blood evaporation spell is easily blocked, and Voldemort retaliates with a string of attacks that don't even give her time to raise a shield. He is a brutal duelist, and Harriet finds herself more often running than fighting, but he tires of this game quickly and charms street lamps to get her. Metal arms erupt from the pillars. Harry explodes them and sends the shards hurtling toward him. Voldemort incinerates them with a wave of his hand, and then Potter is lifted by an unseen force.
No counterspell works, and when she feels one of her ribs creak, she knows she needs to fight back. She doesn't know if dying like this counts for the prophecy.
Harry's way of breaking free comes from desperation because it's a spell that takes too much power, and she would never use it in good conscience. A coffee shop comes to life through heavy transfiguration, ascending from its foundations with a guttural groan. Splinters of wood and twisted irons rise like arms, and a fist assembled from a cluster of windows crashes into the floor, narrowly missing Voldemort.
He tosses Harriet away roughly, and she feels the painful heat of her shoulder shifting in the fall. She hears him laugh, though. A delightful laugh of wonder for her demonstration of power, but it doesn't last. Harry's monstrous coffee shop gets reduced to a pile of ashes, and seconds later, the Dark Lord hovers above her again.
"So much potential wasted by dead people's ideals! I would have made you the most feared Dark Witch since Morgana, but you don't deserve the magic you have ''.
''Did you have plans for me? I'm flattered, but don't forget I'm not your Bellatrix. I would never allow you to show me off like a well-behaved pet''. Harry reacts, chanting another spell. This one is hers, and it was born by accident. Tom had broken her leg during practice, and in anger, she had transferred the injury to him instead of healing it.
The girl does the same to Voldemort now, and the Dark Lord stumbles back in surprise. However, this does not offer much advantage. A broken rib and a dislocated shoulder are nothing to him. As Harry catches her breath, the man grabs her by the hair and Disapparates them both away.
Potter is thrown onto the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack, her eyes widening when she sees Snape lying in agony a few feet away. "There's your spy," Voldemort announces, but she ignores him and crawls over to the man, carefully laying his head in her lap.
Severus' eyes float open, pupils dilated. He's burning. Harry can almost smell his poisoned blood. "Lily...".
Potter swallows but nods. She won't deny that to a dying man. " I am here. "
"Lily, I'm sorry...". He breathes in, his fingers gently touching the space around her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lily. Harry is dead." It is the last thing that escapes a man's thin lips before he perishes.
Harriet doesn't know how long she sat on the floor, sweaty and exhausted. Snape's body grew cold next to her, and the man's blood covered her entire hands. Potter felt like a puzzle.
She was a patchwork quilt made up of other people's pieces. She was Lily's eyes and the face of James and the Chosen One.
She was just Harry to the two boys she abandoned.
'' Take a good look at him. Is that what you want? ''. Voldemort's voice takes her by surprise, mainly because of the softness with which the man uses it. He kneels beside Potter, and she blinks in perplexity as she looks up at him.
He is achingly beautiful in his stolen face, the cold, distant face of an avenging angel carved from marble with features too perfect to appear human. However, Harriet has no problem dodging away as soon as Voldemort moves in to touch her. His eyes lack the intelligent warmth of Tom's brown ones. The Dark Lord doesn't smile with the same endearing arrogance as Regulus.
''I've come too far to turn back now''. The girl tells him, resigned to the path she chose to walk.
Voldemort, to her surprise, wraps his fingers around her chin. '' Let's forget what happened today. Join me, and I'll spare your people. This war can end. You only have to submit ''.
There's something raw in his face, a hopeless fright, a visceral fear that doesn't befit the man he is. It seems unrealistic that Voldemort would still want her, even after everything.
The only coherent reason for his eagerness was Grindelwald's cursed prophecy. The Dark Lord failed to understand that victory would only come if he had two Black's at his side as equals, not below him.
Grindelwald must have been amused by predicting his failure.
Harry pushes him away and stands up with a dignity she honestly doesn't possess. To stare into that face is to imagine growing old alongside her Tom, but the man before her is not Riddle, and it occurs to her that Voldemort doesn't specifically want her. He seeks to replace Regulus with her, and it makes sense. Both are stubborn and cheeky. Both chose death at a very young age rather than bow their heads.
Regulus eventually surrendered to Tom, but it was on his terms. Just like her.
Voldemort did not understand that he couldn't coerce devotion out of them. Even if he could, she would be a very mediocre replacement. Potter is not a prodigy or a soldier. She is a scared, exhausted girl with little control over her tongue.
" No. I will not join you, not today and not ever. It only ends with one of us dead, and if you take me prisoner, I will never stop fighting you. I will never be yours. You will never have, just as you couldn't have Regulus."
The mere mention of Regulus' name changes his face completely. Resentment gets replaced by despair, eyes filling with the same pain Tom expressed earlier when he begged her not to come to die.
It's clear that Harriet crossed a line there.
Realization comes fast on both sides. As soon as Voldemort notices it in the girl, his face darkens, and he forgets his earlier attempts at coercion. The back of the man's hand hits Harry's face so hard that she lands on the worn, dirt-strewn floor. Her mouth fills with blood, and she laughs despite the tears washing her cheeks. "You loved him, didn't you?". It's not really a question. They both already know the answer.
Potter doesn't know if this love was like Riddle's for them, but the feeling was there, a clear possessiveness, present in the air. Voldemort doesn't answer. He keeps standing with his fists clenched to keep from advancing on her again.
The girl spits a ball of blood and saliva onto the floor, her jaw burning uncomfortably. "He killed himself to get away from you."
''The McKinnon's...''.
''Regulus Black died trying to destroy the locket. Your private army of Inferi killed him. If we think about it, you killed him''.
The Dark Lord is roaring with rage, calling her a liar as he tries to reach her. Harry dodges, still laughing in an almost hysterical way. '' To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. ''. There's an accidental pause, the two staring at each other in silence before Potter continues. '' Sounds like him? ''.
Voldemort tries to hit her with Crucio, but the girl summons a chair to absorb the spell instead. She's hoping he'll get it over with soon if she keeps teasing him. ''I found his diary at Sirius Black's house and the Horcrux he stole from you. He was brilliant, and you made him kill himself."
The Dark Lord seems to put two and two together because his face narrows even more when he hears about the Horcrux. ''Where is Bellatrix? ''.
They are circling each other. This time Harriet smiles sincerely. "Dead. She squealed like the pig she was when I started to cut her open, but I needed her to get the cup."
When the attack comes, Potter doesn't resist. Voldemort has her up against the wall in seconds, his hands squeezing the girl's throat so hard that she feels a crack in her neck. There is no attempt at defense on her part. She's tired, and she wants it all to be over.
The Dark Lord releases her. '' Stand up. Don't you want to die so much? Get up! ".
It takes a while, Harry is on her knees on the filthy floor, waiting for the pressure in her head to ease, but eventually, she can pull herself up, facing him toe-to-toe with all the resilience she still has.
''Well then, I'll make your wish come true''.
Voldemort Apparates them away from the ruined house, leaving Snape's cold corpse behind.