Chapter 65 – Battle of the Horcruxes

The first thing that Harry noticed as they faced off with Nagini was the sheer size of the snake. She was, of course, nothing compared with a sixty foot basilisk, but that was unsurprising—the basilisk was the king of serpents, after all, not to mention being upwards of one thousand years old. In fact, given what they had learned about the effect of a soul shard on an animal to which it was attached, Harry idly wondered if the basilisk had attained its great size due to its great age, or whether it had been because it had become a horcrux.

But that was a question for another time—the creature watching them through glowing eyes required his undivided attention. And though it did not have the immense size of its cousin, Nagini was still impressive—likely somewhere in the range of twenty to thirty feet, if he were to guess, though the girth the basilisk had possessed was absent. Any closer estimation was problematic at best, due to the scarcity of the light, not to mention the snake's less than welcoming attitude.

Other than the basilisk, the only other snakes Harry had ever seen were the one Draco Malfoy had summoned during their aborted duel in second year, during Lockhart's ill-fated dueling club, and the one he had unwittingly set free during his visit to the zoo when he had been ten. As such, he could hardly be called an authority on snakes, despite the fact that he could speak with them. It was impossible to tell what breed she was due to the light, and he could not tell what, if any, markings she had. She was a long as a python, however, and had the girth of an anaconda, and for all that, she had already proven that she was as quick and agile as a much smaller snake, while she undoubtedly sported venom which was toxic and able to kill within minutes. Thus, she had all the characteristics of a smaller, venomous snake, mixed with the crushing capabilities of a much larger constrictor snake. This was no opponent to underestimate, Harry was certain.

The snake regarded them, much as they regarded it, warily and with some sense of curiosity, and for a moment Harry wondered if he could feel some kind of connection to it. But though he reached out with his senses for a moment, Harry was almost disappointed to find that he could feel nothing of the snake. It appeared that the incident when he had seen the attack on Arthur Weasley the previous year through the snake's eyes was due to the fact that they were both Voldemort's horcruxes, and not because of any connection between them.

The snake was quiet as it studied them, though its body moved and undulated in a disturbing manner, slithering along behind the head, betraying its agitation. Or perhaps excitement? Harry was not certain, but when he looked into its eyes, he could see them shining with a disturbing intelligence, almost as though its mind was more than that of just a snake.

A suddenly horrifying thought hit Harry at that moment, and he wondered if Voldemort somehow had a way to look through the snake's eyes.

Calming himself, Harry forced the thought from his mind. In all the times he had seen and spied on Voldemort, he had never had any indication that Voldemort could do such a thing. Focus on what was important—kill the snake. Then they could leave this place and the dangers it represented behind.

"What is it?" the snake hissed suddenly. "Intruders and enemies of the master?"

And it was then that Harry gave himself the mental equivalent of a palm to his head. He could talk to the snake, and perhaps try to distract it or give it a false sense of security, making it easier to kill. Why had he not thought of that before?

"We are not your enemy," Harry said, showing an open palm. "We are just travelers, seeking an audience with your master."

The snake cocked its head to the side, almost appearing human in its mannerisms. "Looking for the master? No one looks for the master like a thief in the dead of night."

"We are sorry," Harry replied, seeing Ginny look at him in astonishment from the side. He motioned her to stand down as he spoke with the creature. "We have traveled for many days to come here. We meant no disrespect to your master."

Nagini watched him for several moments before she slithered a little closer, her tongue flicking out in a quick, almost testing manner. "How is it that you are a speaker, and yet my master has told me that there is only one other speaker, and that he is his mortal enemy?"

Harry could clearly see the suspicion in the snake's eyes, and he surreptitiously grasped his wand more tightly. He might just be able to get a shot in to try to take the snake out before it was ready to do battle. The trick would be to get close enough to get in a good shot, and potentially he could take out one or both of her eyes.

"Your master does not know of me because I come from a great distance, far across the great waters. Where I come from, there are others who can speak."

Seeming intrigued, Nagini once again approached a little closer, clearly trying to get a closer look at Harry. Harry held himself in rigid control, willing the snake to approach just a little more so that he could get a clear shot at it.

"Other speakers?" the snake hissed, still sidling a little closer to them.

"Yes," said Harry. "Being a speaker is a mark of respect and favor in my land. There are many like me who hold your master in admiration and wish to join him in his fight. We are here as messengers."

The snake stopped and watched them, and its head tilted a little to the side, an incongruous and almost human mannerism, which almost caused Harry to shudder. He attributed the strange movement to the horcrux attached to the massive snake.

"And the female?" the snake queried, looking at Ginny. "She is not a speaker."

"No," Harry agreed. "But she is my wife."

Privately, Harry was struck with the fact that Ginny would be elated to hear him refer to her as such. But he would never admit that he had to her, and luckily she could not understand what they were staying.

The snake continued to regard them with evident uncertainly, but it did not approach any closer. But then all at ones its eyes widened as it peered at him, and its manner became hostile almost in an instant.

"I know you," it hissed. "You speak like a friend, but you bear the hated scar that hurt my master."

Taking the opportunity, Harry raised his wand and in one smooth motion, pointed it at the snake, yelling, "Diffindo!"

With a hiss of fury, the snake dodged to one side, and Harry's hastily aimed spell only glanced off the side of the snake's neck just below the head. To Harry's horror, the spell appeared to cause only the most superficial of damage, no more than a shallow cut, which did not appear to hurt or slow it at all.

"Betrayer!" the snake spat, while rising up in defiance. "I know you—your scar gives you away! My master has told me of you. I shall squeeze the life out of you and feed upon you, and my master shall be very pleased with me when I tell him that your final act was to become my meal!"

Then, as swift as thought, the snake struck, flinging itself forward with lightning speed, to latch onto Harry with its great jaws and massive fangs. But Harry, expecting the attack, dodged to the side, his wand spitting out spells in a constant stream, trying to disable the snake with the sheer number of his attacks. From the snake's other side, he saw Ginny's wand firing spell after spell in response to Harry's own, as she had dodged in the opposite direction, in order to catch the snake between them and give it two opponents in different directions.

But Nagini was too quick—she twisted and dodged flying forward with the speed of a viper, avoiding most of the attacks. The ones that it could not avoid almost seemed to be absorbed in the thickness of its scales.

Turning to face it fully, Harry noted its glance in both his and Ginny's directions and, in an attempt to induce it to attack him, Harry directed his wand at the dirt, levitated several stones and some quantity of dirt, and flung it at the snake's head, hoping to distract it and perhaps even blind it. But again the snake was too fast, and when it dodged, instead of attacking Harry like he was hoping it would, it pivoted and it quickly moved to strike at Ginny.

Racing after the snake, Harry directed a bludgeoning hex at it, but it only seemed to bounce off its hide, though it did cause the snake to hiss in annoyance. In front of it, Ginny conjured a large plank of wood just as the snake was striking, and it collided with the wood, smashing it to pieces as it struck. Seeing it disoriented for a moment, Harry once again attacked, this time with a banishing hex. This time, his spell had the desired affect, as it hit Nagini and tossed her away, where she hit the side of a tree, and dropped down to the ground.

It was soon apparent, however, that even hitting the tree with that much force did nothing more than annoy her. She hissed at him in fury.

"I shall enjoy stripping the flesh from your bones, boy! Perhaps I'll eat the female and save you for my master to deal with. Your screams shall be like music to my ears. And then I shall consume you as well for my master always leaves me the choicest of delicacies"

As Nagini was talking, Ginny sidled back toward Harry, her eyes wide with fear at the way the snake had attacked her and seemed to shrug off the most powerful of their spells.

"You're speaking to her, aren't you?" she gasped, as her chest heaved with the effort to catch her breath. At Harry's nod, she prodded him further. "What's she saying?"

"I don't think you want to know," Harry replied, keeping his focus firmly on the snake.

"Nothing we're doing seems to affect it. How are we going to kill it?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, watching as Nagini seemed to be marshalling itself for another attack. "It's got to have a weakness. Just keep on it, and make sure you don't allow it to get too close."

"Like I have a choice," Ginny grumbled, as she edged away from Harry. "It's too fast to avoid it for long."

As the snake slithered forward to strike again, Harry was forced to dodge, though he continued to pepper it with returning spellfire. A bludgeoning hex was followed up by several cutters, and a variety of other spells. The only one that seemed to hurt her in the slightest was an exploding curse which he landed on her flank. But though it flung her back and caused her to roll in the underbrush, she simply returned, hissing and cursing in fury—the snake merely shrugged it off and continued to stalk them, an evil, determined glint in its eye. How did one defeat a foe that appeared to be impervious to whatever they hit it with? Even the basilisk had not seemed impervious when Harry had fought with it. Harry was not sure how to defeat it, but he knew he needed to find the answer very soon, lest the snake overwhelm them with its size and speed.

Hermione was not certain what she should be feeling. The shock at not being able to find Harry anywhere in the school had quickly turned to anger at the thought that he had done such a reckless thing as to disappear, causing everyone to worry about him. But then the suggestion that he had been captured by Voldemort's forces made her want to cry out in anguish. And then Ginny had been found to be missing as well, and Hermione was not certain what to think of the situation. The idea—as voiced by a rather unfeeling Seamus Finnigan—that Harry had found another girl with whom to dally, was dismissed quickly as the rubbish it was. Harry was not like that, and Hermione knew what he thought about Ginny.

But assuming they were together, where had they gone? Could Harry possibly have been with Ginny, and she had been caught up when Harry had been captured? If so, the horrors that Ginny could be enduring even now, prompted Hermione to shudder with revulsion.

If they had gone off together, then the question was why, and unfortunately, Hermione had no answers. They were connected in their friendship and in the fact that they were both horcruxes. But Voldemort had never shown any kind of indication that he was able to use that fact to get his hands on Harry. In fact, by all accounts, it appeared as though he was not even aware of the fact that Harry was a horcrux at all, much less Ginny. Could they have been captured somehow?

Her musings were interrupted by the arrivals of the Delacours and the Weasleys, followed closely by Minister Bones, Director Shacklebolt, and another man, who was quickly introduced as Gawain Robards, the Head Auror. The Delacours appeared to be concerned, as well they might be considering Fleur's betrothed was missing in the dead of the night. And as for the Weasleys, Arthur appeared as worried as Hermione had ever seen the jovial man, but it was Mrs. Weasley, who appeared to be as miserable as she had the night she had been informed that Ginny was a horcrux. As she was a woman who loved her children to distraction and fretted for them almost constantly, Hermione could imagine what she was feeling at this time.

After the short greetings were made, Jean-Sebastian came to the point very quickly. "What is happening, Professor? Harry and Ginny have disappeared?"

"They have," Dumbledore confirmed.

Jean-Sebastian turned and looked at Fleur, raising an eyebrow in question.

"He was with me in the common room not long before curfew," Fleur said, understanding his unspoken question. "I left to see Hermione, who was in the library, and by the time we returned, Harry had already gone."

"And did he say anything to you before he left?"

Fleur shook her head. "Just that he was going out for a walk to clear his thoughts. Some of our housemates said that they saw him leaving soon after I left the common room, but no one saw him after."

"I queried the wards as soon as I was told," Dumbledore interjected. "I have since queried them periodically with the same result—Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley are not at Hogwarts.

"And what about Ginny?" Arthur Weasley asked. "When did you notice that she is missing?"

"The twins realized she wasn't searching for Harry with the rest of us," Hermione spoke up. "Apparently the last time anyone saw her was just before Harry disappeared."

The mood of the office was grim as the adults all exchanged looks with each other. "So we think that they're together?" Jean-Sebastian finally asked.

"We don't have enough information to state with any surety," Dumbledore said. "But it seems reasonable to suggest that they are together."

It was understood—likely by everyone in the room who possessed the knowledge—that it was a peculiar connection between them which seemed to suggest that they were together. Why that would be the case Hermione was not certain—she could not have imagined Harry going off on his own in the first place, without even mentioning the possibility that he would involve Ginny in whatever he was doing.

"Do we think his disappearance has something to do with Voldemort?" Director Shacklebolt asked.

"It does not appear to be the case," replied Dumbledore. "I suspect we would have known immediately should Voldemort have managed to capture them. His focus on Harry and his ego would have mandated an immediate announcement, if only to gloat over his 'victory.'"

"Could he have gone after Voldemort?" Madam Bones asked.

Silence reigned in the room as the Minister's words were digested by those in attendance. The most startled were perhaps Director Shacklebolt and the Head Auror—they were also the only ones in attendance who were not aware of the horcrux situation.

"Surely he could not have been so reckless," Shacklebolt finally said.

"I would have said the same," Dumbledore replied with a sigh. "But unfortunately, I cannot be certain. There have been… developments which have taxed Harry's state of mind. I know he has been impetuous in the past, but I cannot think he would be foolish enough to attempt to seek out Voldemort."

"And Ginny's involved too," Hermione spoke up. "Even if Harry left to confront Voldemort, there's no way he would take Ginny with him."

"Then what does that leave us with?" Jean-Sebastian asked quietly.

"With two missing students we will need to locate as quickly as possible," replied Shacklebolt. He turned to the Head Auror and began to give him instructions.

"Gather as many of the on-shift contingent as possible and begin a search for the whereabouts of Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley. We'll need to search Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, and the environs around Hogwarts." Shacklebolt turned toward the Headmaster. "Do you think he might be somewhere in the Forbidden Forest?"

"I do not think it likely, but anything is possible." He turned to Hermione. "Do you know if Mr. Potter's broomstick is still in his dormitory?"

Hermione frowned. "To be honest, I don't know if anyone thought to look. We did confirm that the map is gone, but I don't think we checked to see if his broom or his cloak is still there."

"Map?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"I'll explain later," Sirius said, motioning the Headmaster to keep silent. "In the meantime, I'll go to Gryffindor tower and have a look."

Dumbledore nodded and Sirius, accompanied by Remus, departed from the office.

"Very well," Shacklebolt said, turning back to the Head Auror. "Let's do a search of the Forbidden Forest by broomstick as well—I doubt we'll find him if he wants to stay hidden in the forest, so it's best not to expose our Aurors to the dangers of the forest when it may not be necessary."

"Hagrid can search the forest with little danger," Dumbledore spoke up. "I will instruct him to begin looking as well."

The plans made, they dispersed to a certain extent, the Aurors to attend to their duties, Dumbledore to contact Hagrid, and Madam Bones returned to the Ministry. Of those left, they sat in different parts of the office, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"So what do you think about this, Hermione?" Fleur asked in a low voice.

"I'm not sure what to think," Hermione replied. "I can't think that Harry would have dragged Ginny into something if he did decide to go after Voldemort."

"I wouldn't think so either. But what if he did?"

"If he did, I'll punch his lights out," Ron growled from where he sat close to their side. "Friend or no friend, he better not get my sister into anything dangerous."

Fleur and Hermione shared an amused glance—despite the fact that Ron often appeared like Ginny annoyed him, he was as fiercely protective of his sister as anyone she had ever seen. It just took times like this for his inner caring instinct to be unleashed.

"And you were interested in me at one point?" Hermione asked with raised eyebrows.

Ron turned to her warily. "Yeah, what of it?"

"Just that you've generally behaved toward me like you do toward Ginny," Hermione replied. "I'm more like a sister to warn other people off than a love interest. I always have been, to be honest."

With a thoughtful eye Ron peered back at her, and though Hermione knew that it had been a bit of a risk to bring up such a subject again, the thought had struck her out of the blue, and she had blurted it out with little thought. But Ron appeared to be thinking about it and, if his expression was anything to go by, he understood what she had said. He had never really brought it up so Hermione did not know if he was still pining for her, but this had at least given him something further to think about.

"I think you're all missing something here, Ronny," one of the twins stated, as they moved close to join the quiet conversation.

"Ginny has a mind of her own and is as stubborn as anyone," added the other.

"If Harry did go after Voldemort, I doubt he would have dragged Ginny along."

"It's more likely that Ginny found out and insisted that he take her."

"You know you're right about that," Hermione said after thinking about it for a moment.

"But that still doesn't tell us where they went," Ron said in a distracted tone.

"No, but hopefully the Aurors will be able to find them," Fleur replied.

A moment after their conversation ended, the door to the office opened and the dark and brooding figure of Professor Snape entered the office. It was clear when he entered that the company was distasteful to him, as he noted those in attendance with a slight tightening of his eyes and a certain set to his jaw, but he was obviously modulating his response carefully, as no other visible indication of his feelings could be seen,.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Snape asked, ignoring the rest of the room.

"Indeed, Severus. Mr. Potter has gone missing. Have you heard anything from Voldemort to suggest that he has been captured?"

The Potions Master's eyes flicked about the room, but for a change, he did not make a derogatory comment about Harry. Instead, he looked at Dumbledore and said, "When did he disappear?"

"Earlier this evening," Dumbledore replied.

"I have not had a communication from the Dark Lord for several days. If he has captured Potter then I have no doubt we will hear of it soon, but he has not informed me of anything."

At that moment the door behind the Potions Master opened, and Sirius and Remus walked into the room, Sirius taking Snape's presence with a scowl. He ignored Snape, however, and turned his attention to the Headmaster.

"Harry's Firebolt is not in his dorm."

"So he might have used it to leave the grounds," Dumbledore said while stroking his beard.

"And that means he could be almost anywhere."

"Indeed."

"If you don't require anything else, I will leave," Snape interjected, clearly wishing to be out of the presence of so many he found distasteful.

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore replied with a tired smile. "If you hear anything, please inform me at once."

"Of course," Snape said before he inclined his head and glided from the office, his cloak swirling in his haste to leave.

Hermione's eyes followed him as he left, frowning slightly at his behavior. It was unlike the professor to pass up an opportunity to insult Harry, and the news that Harry was missing was a golden opportunity for one such as he. And yet Snape had merely answered Dumbledore's questions succinctly and had been eager to leave, though that last could be attributed to the fact that he was disdainful of almost everyone who was present in the office. Could he know something of Harry's disappearance?

A quick glance around showed that no one else seemed to be bothered by the professor's behavior—Dumbledore had returned to the Floo, Fleur was sitting quietly beside her, apparently lost in thought, while the Weasleys and the Delacours were engaged in quiet, though worried, conversation. McGonagall sat to the side with Sirius, who had joined her after Snape's departure, though it appeared as though their conversation was mostly one-sided—Sirius only appeared to be giving her a little of his attention, as he was focused on the door through which the Potions Master had just departed, a slight frown upon his face. Hermione wondered if he noticed the same thing in the Potions Master's behavior.

Still, even if Snape did know something, it did not follow that he had somehow caused Harry's disappearance. It was possible that he had heard something from Voldemort, but had been instructed not to say anything. Or, perhaps with so many people friendly to Harry present, it might be that he had decided to hold his tongue for a change. Hermione liked to hope the latter was true, as the former was more horrible than she wished to contemplate. Though Hermione did not know the nature of the oaths Snape had sworn to Dumbledore, she trusted the Headmaster to have done it in such a way that Snape would not be able to simply hand Harry over to Voldemort. No, the disappearance was almost certainly due to Harry himself, rather than any outside force. That would not prevent her from keeping an eye on the Potions Master, though…

Thus began a night which was long and frustrating, as news of Harry was scarce, though updates of the search were plentiful. As the evening inched on toward midnight, and then into the early morning hours with no news, Hermione began to fear more and more what had happened to her friends. But though conversation between the occupants of the Headmaster's office was abundant and theories as to what had happened to the two missing teens were exchanged throughout the evening, nothing seemed to bring them any closer to solving the mystery. The only bright spot was that Voldemort remained silent—there was no announcement from the Dark Lord that he had managed to get his hands on Harry, and Hermione knew that Dumbledore was right about what his response would be had he managed to achieve the unthinkable.

Though curfew had long passed—and Hermione was grateful that tonight had not been her scheduled night to do rounds—the five students had not been instructed to return to their dorms. There had certainly been hints, but Dumbledore had seemed to understand their desire to remain until the two had been returned to them. It could not be denied that they all became more tired and sluggish as the night grew long, but they all knew that they were incapable of sleeping even if they should return to the common room. Thus, they stayed in the office, talking quietly amongst themselves, urging Harry and Ginny to return and put them out of their misery.

When Hermione looked back on the evening she was able to remember two things very clearly, though the rest of it was a muddle of fatigue and feelings oscillating between worry, crippling fear, and anger at the thought that Harry might have gone off and done something reckless. The first was not long after Snape left, when Fleur pulled her to the Headmaster insisting that she disclose the reason they had been searching for Harry at all that evening.

"Sir, Hermione told me that she knew a way to get rid of the horcrux," Fleur stated as they approached the Headmaster. She spoke in a soft voice, partially because of the subdued atmosphere in the room, and partially, Hermione knew on pure instinct, because she did not wish to get everyone else's hopes up should Hermione's idea turn out to be unworkable.

Dumbledore's gaze turned upon Hermione and he regarded her with some curiosity. "You have?"

"I think so, Headmaster," Hermione replied a little nervously. When the epiphany had hit her she had thought it the perfect solution to Harry and Ginny's dilemma, but now she was beset by worries and fear, not to mention second-guesses. What if Dumbledore dismissed her idea as impossible? How would she recover from the disappointment?

"Very well, Miss Granger," said the Headmaster. He was watching her with an expression of such compassion, that Hermione felt that he had guessed her internal struggles and was doing what he could to allay her worries. "Why don't you tell me what you have discovered?"

"I didn't discover anything," Hermione admitted. "But I think I might have come up with a way to free Harry from the horcrux."

"Then by all means, tell me your idea, my dear."

And so Hermione did. She explained her idea, including the reasons why she thought it would work, and as she did, Dumbledore's countenance went from intrigued to thoughtful, and then to approving. When she had finished, the Headmaster looked at her, his demeanor as excited as she had ever seen in the ancient wizard. In fact, it appeared like years had fallen from his face, though he was still the same wizened and benevolent man he had ever been.

"So simple an idea, and yet so profound—I wonder that no one ever thought of it before. I thank you, Miss Granger—I believe that you may have discovered a way to free your friends from this situation."

"You think it will work?" Hermione asked with growing excitement.

"I believe it just might," the Headmaster replied with a delighted smile. "I would caution you, however, that this may be much more difficult in practice, than in theory."

"I understand."

"Good. Now I would also caution you to keep this to yourself for the time being. Not only is everyone focused on seeing Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley brought back unharmed, but I also think that now would not be the right time to make such an announcement. Please allow me to think on it a little more. We can then disclose your theory at a time when tensions are not so high."

Agreeing immediately with his strictures, an elated Hermione returned to her chair a few moments later in Fleur's company, relieved at the Headmaster's words. Maybe now they could actually do something for Harry and get him to stop moping around.

"That was a pretty amazing piece of reasoning, Hermione," Fleur whispered as they returned to their seats.

Hermione turned a grateful smile on her friend. "I certainly hope so."

Impulsively, Fleur turned and hugged her. "I'm glad now that I insisted you join Harry and me. I'll be forever grateful if your idea ends up saving him."

Bashful, Hermione bowed her head to hide her blush. "Thanks, Fleur," she whispered. "Of course, there will have to be something left of him to save once he gets back."

Chuckling, Fleur replied, "Don't get too hasty. There may still be a reasonable explanation for this."

"I'm sorry, but do you know Harry?" Hermione shot back with mock astonishment. "The words 'reasonable explanation' cannot often be paired with the name 'Harry Potter'."

Fleur's commiserating grimace was to be her only response, and they settled back into their chairs to wait for further news.

Much later that evening—well after midnight, Hermione had another conversation which was as difficult as it was necessary, and even cleansing in a way. As the night had lengthened, Hermione had watched the others in the room, attempting to determine how they were holding up against the lack of any news about Harry. She found her eyes more and more drawn back to Mrs. Weasley who, while she did speak with her husband, Dumbledore, and even Apolline Delacour from time to time—and she appeared to be much more comfortable with the Veela than Hermione had felt she would ever be—as the night progressed, she drew increasingly into herself and interacted less with the others.

In truth, Hermione did not know what to make of her feelings for the Weasley matriarch. Though she was not prone to judging others, Hermione had never been blind to Molly's faults, though she was also honest enough to acknowledge that even some of those faults could be considered to be strengths, if they were considered from a different viewpoint. Molly's howler the previous year had driven a wedge in between them to the point that where Hermione had never been particularly close to Mrs. Weasley—regardless of having stayed at the Burrow several times—it had now been several months since she had actually spoken to her, though she had had several opportunities.

The sting of the howler and the shame she had felt had dissipated. It had happened over six months ago, after all, and though Hermione was aware of the fact that she could hold a grudge under certain circumstances—Malfoy's continued actions came to mind—she was not in the habit of doing so in a general sense. Thus, she really did not feel an overt enmity over the incident, though she was a little disappointed that the woman had never offered an apology for her hasty and embarrassing actions.

Now Molly appeared to be so dispirited and unhappy, that Hermione felt that she could no longer allow Mrs. Weasley to wallow in her despondency. As such, noting that Fleur was in quiet conversation with her parents, and that Mr. Weasley was speaking with his three sons while the rest of the room was otherwise occupied, she stood and made her way to Mrs. Weasley, sitting in an unoccupied chair at her side.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," Hermione ventured with a hesitant smile.

Mrs. Weasley returned it with a weariness which could not be feigned. "How are you holding up, my dear?"

"I'm okay," Hermione averred. "It's been hard on all of us."

"That it has," was Mrs. Weasley's soft reply

A silence settled between them, and though they had spoken amicably with one another, it was not a comfortable silence like the ones she often shared with Harry. No, this silence seemed to be due to an embargo upon any subject of any depth. And though any other time Hermione would have been content to try to draw Mrs. Weasley into discussions on other, more mundane subjects, given what was happening at present, it did not seem right to attempt any idle chitchat.

In desperation, Hermione finally blurted out that which she thought would comfort the woman the most. "Don't worry, Mrs. Weasley; we'll find Harry and Ginny. And we'll find a way to get rid of Voldemort's horcruxes," she added, mindful for Dumbledore's admonition against revealing her possible solution.

"I have every faith in the Headmaster," Mrs. Weasley replied. "Harry and Ginny could not be in better hands."

Mrs. Weasley paused, and took a deep breath, before she looked Hermione in the eye, her manner as solemn as Hermione had ever seen in the excitable woman. "Hermione, I want you to know that I recognize the fact that I behaved badly when I sent you that howler last year. I want to apologize to you for doing that. It was very wrong of me and I am sorry."

Tears pricked at the corners of Hermione's eyes, and she was barely able to murmur, "Thank you," in response.

"Do not thank me," Mrs. Weasley replied. "I would rather that you forgave me. I never truly did believe those things I said. I was upset for Ron, and I'm sure you know that I was upset over Miss Delacour's betrothal to Harry. But that is not an excuse." She drew in a shuddering breath, but appeared to force herself to continue. "I was wrong to do it, regardless of how I felt, and I am sorry."

"Oh Mrs. Weasley, of course I forgive you!" Hermione exclaimed, and she allowed herself to be drawn into the older woman's breast in a motherly embrace. But unlike Mrs. Weasley's infamous crushing and needy embraces of the past, this one was gentle, imparting as much comfort as it drew from her.

When they drew away, Hermione wiped a tear from her cheek, as she watched Mrs. Weasley wiping several away from her own. The other woman chuckled, and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I'm not too proud to admit that I was completely wrong. Watching Harry blossom over the past few months has been a true pleasure, and it's evident that it has happened due to the effect Miss Delacour has had on Harry. She seems like a very good influence on him."

Hermione smiled delightedly as she stole a glance at her closest female friend. "Yes she is. She's such a good person, Mrs. Weasley. I love Fleur very much—she's the sister that I never had."

"I can see that, my dear." Mrs. Weasley then grinned and made a great show of inspecting Hermione thoroughly. "It seems to me, however, that Miss Delacour is not the only one who has been good for him. Unless I very much miss my guess, I would say that you are also very much taken with our Harry."

At Mrs. Weasley's statements and raised eyebrow, Hermione blushed and glanced down at her lap. "I am, Mrs. Weasley. I'm happy to say that I think he returns the sentiment."

"I'm sure he does. I've always known how he felt for you, and I always thought that if anyone could dominate Harry's affections, that it would be you."

A small silence once again settled over them and Hermione very much suspected that Molly was now thinking of her own wishes for Ginny's future with Harry. Her speculation was confirmed to be true very soon when Mrs. Weasley once again began to speak.

"I'm sure you also know that I had great hopes for Harry and Ginny."

Sensing the woman did not really require an answer, Hermione simply waited for her to continue to speak.

"I won't lie to you, Hermione—I would still be ecstatic if Harry were to decide that he wanted to make Ginny one of his wives. I can't think of anyone better to take care of my daughter."

Mrs. Weasley then turned and looked Hermione in the eye. "But I now understand that it might never happen, and I accept that. So if they do come together, I will welcome it, but if not, then I will hope that Ginny can find someone who will take care of her like I know that Harry would. I know that between you and Miss Delacour, Harry will always have someone to support and care for him. I know he will be better for it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied, feeling emotional all over again. "I can assure you that we will take care of him. And Ginny will find her own contentment—if she marries someone else, he'll know that he has the Boy-Who-Lived watching out for her, not to mention two wives who will be very cross if she's ever mistreated!"

"I'm sure you will," replied Mrs. Weasley with a laugh.

Their previous acrimony now dealt with, Hermione fell into easy conversation with Mrs. Weasley and they spent quite some time talking quietly in the corner. Molly appeared to be more at ease and better able to cope with the events of the evening than she had been before, and Hermione was glad to have helped her that regard. And even more, she was happy that their relationship had been restored.

Back and forth across the darkened landscape the battle raged, and though Harry and Ginny put everything they had into the fight, it seemed like nothing was enough. The snake was indefatigable, chasing them throughout the confines of the battlefield, giving them no respite, nor any quarter. The large reptile sported numerous gashes and small injuries within minutes of the opening of the battle, courtesy of the spells Harry and Ginny had hit her with, but they were all superficial. Thus far, even the most powerful of Harry's spells had managed to inflict only the slightest amount of damage on her hide. It seemed nothing could penetrate the scales to the muscle and sinew below, and because of that, she was not slowed in the slightest, almost seeming to gain strength in the knowledge that the two humans were tiring and tiring quickly. If they could not find a way to hurt her and soon, Harry knew that they would falter, and she would finish them off.

Throughout the entirety of the battle, she kept up a running monologue, promising pain and suffering and the retribution of the master upon their heads for daring to challenge her. Her taunts finally annoyed Harry to the point that he was able to get in the one hit which had seemed to stun her, though it did not incapacitate her. A bludgeoning curse which hit her right on the snout and knocked her back, seemed to disorient her momentarily. Harry tried to press his advantage, but the snake quickly righted itself and slithered to the attack, causing Harry to once more retreat to avoid her crushing body and poisonous fangs.

Within moments of the battle, it became evident as to Nagini's strategy. After a few opening attacks, the snake quickly began to focus on Ginny, attacking her more and more, evidently in an attempt to remove her from the fight as quickly as possible, thereby leaving Harry to face her by himself. A few moments after the brief lull, Harry, hoping to turn Nagini's attention on himself, strode forward, his wand a blur of spells—bludgeoners, cutting curses and banishing hexes—as he attempted to incapacitate the snake.

The reptile merely dodged his incoming curses, though he did score a couple of glancing blows further down her enormous body, and after feinting at Harry, pivoted and struck out at Ginny who had approached to launch a few attacks of her own.

"Look out, Ginny!" Harry yelled as the snake struck at the speed of thought.

Ginny, however, seeing the danger, danced to the side, narrowly evading Nagini's gaping jaws. Within seconds, however, the snake had gained control over its momentum and had turned toward her yet again.

Struck by a sudden inspiration, Harry charged forward and yelled, "Aguamenti!" The jet of water shot out from his wand and quickly soaked the ground around the reptile, and after canceling the flow of the water, Harry yelled, "Glacius!" pointing his wand at the water, hoping to catch the snake in the same trap in which he had caught Roger Davies.

With a speed beyond anything Harry had ever seen, the snake slithered from the watery area, escaping before he could freeze it to the ground, launching herself at him, a gleam of defiance in its yellow orbs.

Harry darted to the side and banished Nagini back into the brush once again, but the snake only gathered itself for another attack.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled over the sound of spitting spellfire and the hissing of the snake. "If we don't finish this quickly, someone is bound to notice what's happening."

Though he shared Ginny's concern and acknowledged her words to himself, he had no time to respond as Nagini was on him in a moment. With gleaming fangs bared with hatred, the snake struck, flying forward with blinding speed. Ready for the attack, Harry waved his wand and a brick wall appeared between him and the snake, and he dodged out of the way. Nagini hit the wall head on and the wall burst apart in a shower of bricks and mortar, and the snake hissed in pain, as it writhed upon the ground.

Moving in for the kill, Harry fired a reductor, following it up with a loudly yelled, "Sectumsempra!" Sensing his attack, the snake dodged the reductor, narrowly evading it as the reductor hit the ground, gouging a furrow into it and sending a massive wave of dirt and debris shooting into the air. But the snake was not quite quick enough to dodge the dark cutting curse, as one of the bright slashes connected with it just above the tip of its tail, cutting it off completely.

The snake hissed its fury and pain, writhing on the ground, its tail trailing blood.

"I will kill you boy!" the snake screamed. "I will feast on your entrails and pluck your eyes out one by one. And then I shall then kill the girl painfully and slowly, as I enjoy her death screams!"

Nagini slithered toward him, murder in her eyes, while showing no signs of her injury, but as Harry backed away, the snake suddenly struck out, her fangs gleaming with the light dim light of the moon shining off the venom which dripped from her fangs.

Harry dodged to the side yet again, a banishing charm on this tongue, when the snake twisted in mid air, her body changing course and hitting him in the midsection as she flew by. As big and heavy as she was, the force of her impacting against him felt like he was being hit by a bludger, and he hit the ground, gasping for breath as the bruised muscles of his side protested against ill use.

In a moment, Nagini was upon him, rearing up and striking at his face. He was just able to dodge his head to the side and catch her just behind her head with his hands, his wand having been knocked to from his grasp. The snake grinned evilly at him, and its tongue flicked out, as it peered at him, appearing to savor its victory. It obviously knew that his arms were no match for the sinewy strength she had in her massive body.

"It is time to die, boy," she hissed in triumph, and then she reared back again for the killing strike.

In that moment, two things happened almost simultaneously for Harry. He heard Ginny's cry of horror and heard her shout out a series of spells as she struggled to remove the snake before she could strike. And in that moment Harry saw a glimpse, an echo of an earlier battle with a snake when he was a much younger boy. And with a flash of inspiration, Harry let go of the snake's neck with his right hand and stretched it forth, willing the weapon he needed to appear in his hand.

As soon as he felt the welcoming weight begin to coalesce in his hand, Harry struck, slashing sideways to intercept the head of the snake, which was even now beginning to dart forward.

The Sword of Gryffindor, gleaming in the murk as though it contained its own source of light, swept across the fringes of his sight, connecting with the snake's neck and cleaving through it, as though it were no more substantial than a wisp of smoke.

Blood erupted from the body of the snake as the head flew off, narrowly missing him and impacting on the ground to roll to a stop some feet away from Harry. At the same instant, a great and chilling scream erupted from the head of the snake, and an indistinct wisp of a smoke-like wraith rose up from the body. In an instant, it sped this way and that, through Harry and Ginny, desperately seeking something to support it, and when it did not find anything, it screamed again in despair before dissipating like smoke on a windy day.

Silence fell over the clearing, and Harry dropped bonelessly onto the ground, as weary as he had ever felt in his life.

The reality of the situation soon kicked in, and in disgust, he pushed the now headless corpse away and, turning onto his side, vomited heavily into the brush where he lay. He felt dirty, as though the blood of the snake was covering him with a filth which he would never be able to wash away.

"Harry?" a tremulous voice called as Harry began to ineffectually wipe the blood off his face and clothes.

"I'm all right," he managed to reply.

Ginny approached him and, seeing his state, began to hit him with cleaning charms, banishing the worst of the blood and gore from him, but doing nothing for the intense feeling of being soiled which covered him from head to toe. Still, he was grateful for her assistance.

With an effort, Harry heaved himself up and out of the pool of Nagini's blood, and staggered to the side, to sit down heavily on the turf. Ginny reached over and picked up his wand where it lay on the ground, and approached him, hitting him with more cleaning spells. When she was satisfied, she flopped down heavily beside him, panting as though she had just run a marathon. Together they sat there, looking at the body of the snake, saying nothing to one another. The relief at being alive—despite the ever-present despair of the horcrux—filled Harry. In that instant he knew that no matter what, he would fight to stay alive, even as he determined to see Voldemort defeated once and for all.

"Well, that was unpleasant," Ginny finally said, and Harry had the impression that though her comment could have been construed as a weak attempt at humor, her words were intended as nothing more than they appeared. They had been very lucky—Harry felt that as though it was written in bold letters on his forehead.

"I think I'd prefer not to do it again," he replied.

"That might be the first intelligent thing you've said all night," Ginny muttered.

Harry turned and grinned cheekily at her. "But you love me anyway."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny contented herself with sticking her tongue out at him. They sat in silence for several moments while their breathing calmed, and tried to summon the will to move. As they sat, Harry's revulsion turned to jubilation. They had done it! The snake was dead and Voldemort was down one more horcrux!

"Maybe we should get going," Ginny suggested. "If anyone saw something, they could be here any minute."

"I'm sure we're fine," Harry replied. "They'd have been here by now if someone saw something."

"Still, I'd prefer not to stick around. This place is beginning to give me the creeps and the snake's body, and the soul shard dying, isn't helping."

Nodding, Harry lurched to his feet, reaching down to help Ginny up. When she was standing, Harry engulfed her in a fierce embrace.

"Thanks for insisting on being here," he murmured in her hair. "I'm not sure I could have taken it on my own."

Harry could almost hear the rolling of her eyes. "I'll refrain from telling you that I told you so," she said in an attempt at dry humor.

Shaking his head, Harry turned and considered the body of the snake, before his face broke out into an evil smile.

"Come on," he said, starting forward toward the snake. "We're not quite done here."

It was almost morning when Voldemort was summoned from his throne room to the front of the manor. If Voldemort was honest with himself, he would have preferred to simply Crucio the sweating and fearful Death Eater who had brought word that he was needed at the manor's entrance, but something in the man's behavior unsettled him. It appeared like something had happened and whatever it was, his minions knew better than to request his presence if it was not something urgent which required his immediate attention.

In truth, it was not so great an imposition for him to be summoned. He had rarely slept since he had returned to a body, but whether that was because this constructed body needed no sleep, or because his mind was too filled with plots and stratagems that he could not, he was not certain. He had decided soon after his return that he would not worry about it—the lack of sleep allowed him more time to perfect his plans, and did not seem to affect him to any great degree.

He approached the entrance to the manor and noted the almost palpable feeling of fear etched upon the faces of those who awaited him. The sight prompted a frown—clearly something was very amiss here. If these blundering halfwits had failed him, he would be certain to make them an object lesson that no one would soon forget.

"What is it?" he demanded as he approached the guard at the large double door which served as the manor's main entrance.

"Out there, my lord," the man stammered in reply. "You had best take a look."

Stepping out through the door, Voldemort noted idly that the murky glow of false dawn was just beginning to give way to the light of the sun which was approaching the horizon. He idly noted that he had not left the manor—or indeed the throne room—since his attempt to capture the Veela whores Harry Potter had taken up with almost two weeks before. Though it was all well and good to lead the effort by providing direction and planning to the effort, he decided that he really needed to get out more. A major part of his success in the first war had been the fear that his very presence had engendered. It would not do to allow the Wizarding world to forget that he was the preeminent wizard in Britain.

It was then that he noticed something off in the gloom—something which had not been there the last time he had looked out from the manor. It stood tall and still, though with indistinct protuberances at irregular intervals along its length, any further detail was impossible to determine in the still insufficient light.

"What is it?" he growled at the cowering form of the guard.

"It's… it's…" the man stammered in obvious terror.

"What is it?" Voldemort repeated, enunciating every word slowly and clearly.

The guard visibly gathered himself and swallowed thickly, before he blurted out, "It is the snake, my lord."

Incredulous, Voldemort peered at the man with disbelief, before he turned on the spot and apparated away with a loud crack, reappearing only a moment later beside the object he had spied from the doorway.

His breath caught in his throat as he beheld the sight. Nagini, his beautiful and faithful familiar, and vessel for a portion of his very soul, was dead, impaled upon a long stake. Her body was pierced at least twice on the length of the stake, ruining the loveliness of her scales, and the fierce strength of her sinewy body. But the most chilling of all, her head had been severed and had been impaled on the top of the stake, and she gazed out at him through sightless eyes, beseeching him to take bloody vengeance upon her killers. For an instant Voldemort almost broke down in sorrow as he had not done since he had been a small child, hurting from the teasing he had endured in the orphanage.

Then the redness of a fury beyond anything he had ever before felt descended over his eyes, and he screamed out his rage and anguish. From his wand and his fingers, gales of wind, strikes of lightning and jets of fire appeared, decimating the landscape about him. And through him, one thought echoed over and over again in the confines of his mind:

"They will pay for this!"

Updated 07/03/2014