Disclaimer: The following characters, settings and referenced events are, and always will be, the property of J K Rowling.

– CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR –

Heart and Soul

'Why are you hanging down there?'

Harry looked up to find Moaning Myrtle peeping around the corner of her cubicle.

'You'd better be careful, you know; you don't want the Basilisk to kill you. If it did, you'd get to stay with me.' She grinned at him romantically.

'Who says I'd become a ghost?' asked Harry testily. He really didn't have time to get into a life-and-death discussion with Myrtle.

'Aren't you afraid to die?' Myrtle giggled.

'No, I'm not!'

'There's no need to snap.'

'Look, Myrtle, I'm busy at the moment, so can you just shut up, OK?'

Myrtle donned a hurt expression. 'You don't look like you're busy to me. You're just –'

'Myrtle.' Harry was starting to lose patience. 'I mean it. Shut up. I'm trying to listen to what's going on out there.' He jerked his head towards the bathroom door, the other side of which echoed with the sounds of Order of the Phoenix members successfully putting up a good fight against the Death Eaters. At least, Harry hoped they were being successful.

Myrtle's wide eyes stared fearfully at the door. 'It sounds like people are being murdered,' she said in a scared voice, but a moment later, Harry knew she was faking when she added, 'Do you think they'll be my friends?' cool as you please, her grin widening.

'Only if they're unlucky,' muttered Harry.

'So what is going on out there?' Myrtle gazed curiously at the door.

'Voldemort is here and he brought company. The teachers are fighting them.

'Voldemort?' Myrtle gazed over at Harry. 'Who's he?'

'You know who.' Harry wondered why Myrtle was pretending not to know the man who killed her, then remembered he wasn't known by that name when she died.

'You-Know-Who?' Myrtle continued before Harry could enlighten her. 'I've heard the students talking about him. He's killed lots of people, hasn't he?'

'Including you.'

'No, I was killed by – What?'

'Voldemort killed you.' Harry gazed up at Myrtle's now genuinely frightened face. 'He used to be Tom Riddle. He was a Slytherin prefect here when you died. He's Salazar Slytherin's last descendant and he spoke Parseltongue to tell the Basilisk to kill you.' He knew he probably should have told her a bit less abruptly, but he was more concerned about trying to hear what was going on in the rest of the school. Myrtle was one distraction he could do without.

'That … that thing is here?' Myrtle's fear was rapidly being overcome by boiling anger. 'Where is he? I'll … I'll …' She zoomed back to her toilet.

'Wait'

Harry had an idea. Myrtle poked her head through the cubicle door.

'Do you have to use the plumbing or can you go through walls and stuff like the other ghosts?'

'Walls and stuff.' Myrtle didn't sound happy about being held up.

'I need your help.'

Myrtle continued to glare but didn't move any closer to the S-bend. Harry took this as a good sign.

'You want to get Voldemort for killing you, right?'

She nodded.

'But you're not going to be able to do much except scare him and he doesn't scare, believe me. Other than that, you can't do anything because you're just a ghost.'

'It's not my fault I'm just –'

'I know it's not your fault. It's Voldemort's fault. And he will pay for it, as well as all the other people he's killed.'

'Like who?'

'My parents.'

Except for the little fact that she was dead, Harry could have sworn Myrtle stopped breathing. She floated an inch above the floor, her mouth gaping open, completely at a loss for words for the first time in Harry's experience.

'I … I didn't know,' she said in a small voice. 'You're James Potter's son, aren't you?'

Harry nodded.

'You look like him. Except –'

'My eyes, I know; I've got my mother's eyes.'

'Actually, I was going to say you've got Lily Evans's eyes.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, watching Myrtle closely. 'She was my mum.'

'She was one of the few students who didn't tease me and make fun of me. She was the only one who never called me Moaning Myrtle. When she became Head Girl, she even used to call me Miss Timothy. Only the teachers had ever called me that before.' She sighed. 'So, how am I supposed to make that Slytherin boy pay for your mum and me?'

'By helping me.'

Myrtle's curiosity rose. 'How?'

'I need to lure Voldemort into a special room downstairs – it's kind of hard to explain – but it's the only place where he can possibly be defeated. That's what I'm trying to listen for; when he's almost here. Now, if you can keep an eye out for him out there, –' Harry nodded towards the corridor again, '– you'll be able to sneak through the walls and warn me faster than a living person can. It's your chance to make him sorry for making you a ghost who can walk through walls. Use that against him.' Harry held his breath, hoping Myrtle would agree.

She glanced towards the door, then back at him, the familiar grin firmly in place. 'What does he look like now?'

As time wore on, Harry began to wish he hadn't sent Myrtle away. The sounds of the battle being waged between McGonagall's people and the Death Eaters continued to reach his ears but he wasn't able to tell what was happening other than there were still survivors on both sides or the fighting would have stopped. He checked his watch … again … but it was only four minutes later than the last time he had checked.

'He's coming.'

Harry almost lost his grip on the side of the gaping hole in the floor. 'How far away is he?'

'About five seconds.'

'Five seconds?' Harry pulled himself out of the pipe and grabbed his broom.

'Four … three …' Myrtle was standing halfway through the wall, peeking down the corridor. Harry pulled out the counterfeit cup and pointed his wand at the door. It swung open.

'Two …'

Harry kicked off and the broom sped through the open doorway. As he turned into the corridor, a fiery blast hit the wall, narrowly missing his head. Grinning despite the close brush with death, Harry leant forwards over the Firebolt's handle, confident that Voldemort wasn't far behind.

He was almost down to the Entrance Hall, angry blasts still sending stone chips flying at him from the walls, when he heard a woman's voice cry out 'Master?' Glancing back, Harry caught a quick glimpse of Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew behind Voldemort. The Order obviously hadn't managed to contain all of the Death Eaters, but Harry didn't get a chance to wonder if it meant all of McGonagall's people were dead as he turned into the Great Hall because he had to concentrate on negotiating the turns in the tunnel leading to where Lupin was waiting.

As Harry reached the end of the last corridor, a jet of red light skimmed the top of his head, singeing several hairs and giving him the biggest fright so far. It also confirmed that Voldemort had just turned into the second-last passage. Rounding the bend, he slid off the Firebolt, tossed it at the waiting Harry'ed Lupin, snatched the Invisibility Cloak from the floor where Lupin had dropped it in his haste, and quickly pulled it over his head.

He didn't get a chance to catch more than three hasty breaths when Voldemort reached the doorway, Wormtail and Sirius's cousin skidding to a halt behind him. Harry pressed himself into the corner to avoid being bumped.

Voldemort stepped towards the doorway.

'Master,' Bellatrix Lestrange jumped in front of him. 'Do not act in haste. There is something not right here.' She glanced over her shoulder.

Voldemort ignored her, his attention focused upon the people in the room. His eyes flashed with lust and greed.

'Master, please!' Bellatrix tried again to stop her master entering the mysterious room but suddenly jumped away from him with a high-pitched squeal, as if she had been burnt.

His path clear, Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched in an evil grin. 'Bellatrix, Wormtail,' he purred, bending a finger for them to precede him. Wormtail tried to shrink into the wall. Harry pressed deeper into his corner. 'Now!'

Both Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew gasped as they were thrown through the doorway.

Harry suppressed a snarl of frustration that Voldemort wouldn't be alone. Oh well, he supposed three against eight weren't too-bad odds. Pulling the Invisibility Cloak tighter about his shoulders, he followed his nemesis into the chamber.

Voldemort didn't seem to notice the doors lock behind him; his full attention was focused on Dumbledore seated on Gryffindor's throne.

'Bellatrix' he ordered, almost dismissively. 'Take care of that!' One long-nailed finger thrust in Snape's direction.

'With pleasure,' purred Bellatrix Lestrange, her tongue darting out in tiny flicks to moisten her lips, her eyes filled with hungry anticipation at the chance to make Snape pay for his betrayal.

'Wormtail,' Voldemort's voice contained more of a hiss this time; Wormtail cringed with fear. 'Guard that.' Yet another finger flicked out, this time pointing at Lupin. 'And see that no harm comes to it. I would be most displeased if you were to deprive our guest of my attentions while I deal with … more important matters,' he hissed, his gaze not drifting from Dumbledore.

Harry wondered if Voldemort realised he had slipped into Parseltongue though, judging by the effect it had on Wormtail, it was probably deliberate. He was about to draw Voldemort's attention when –

'Your guest, Tom? I was not aware you had invited Harry to meet with you here. Quite the opposite, in fact; Harry is the one who extended the invitation to you. And you have graciously accepted.'

Every living face in the Hallows was staring at Dumbledore in varying degrees of shock, disbelief and bewilderment. Except Snape, Harry noticed absently as he tried to come to terms with the fact that Dumbledore could speak –

'Parseltongue?' Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked, her attention well and truly diverted from Snape. 'Master, how can he –? You are the last of Slytherin's blood. You are the only one who can –'

Starting to get over the initial shock of Dumbledore's multi-lingual abilities, Harry realised that Remus looked just as lost as the others as to what exactly it was Dumbledore had said. Voldemort might notice any moment, not to mention that the hour was nearly up. He let the Invisibility Cloak fall to the floor.

'Leave them be,' he shouted. 'I'm the one you want.'

Voldemort, Bellatrix and Wormtail span round. Voldemort's red eyes tried to bore into Harry but he was ready. There was no way he was going to let Voldemort in on the secret of just what this chamber was, but before he could employ the Occlumency Dumbledore had taught him, Bellatrix Lestrange flew between them with a high-pitched shriek, breaking Voldemort's eye contact; she had turned her back on Snape and paid the price.

'I said I'm the one you want,' Harry repeated.

Wormtail backed further away from Harry, his inability to understand Parseltongue causing him unwanted terror. It also made him not pay attention to his immediate surroundings. He backed into the other Harry, who gripped his shoulders tightly and spun him around.

'Hello, Peter.'

Even though Harry couldn't see his face, Wormtail's trembling back was a pretty good clue to the fear in his eyes as he gazed at the face of his fellow Marauder.

Voldemort spared each of his Death Eaters a brief scathing glare, angry that they hadn't done as instructed. He pointed his wand towards Neville and Luna, no doubt intending to relieve his pent-up anger upon them.

'I said leave them be.'

A weak chuckle sounded in the background. 'You dare to give the Dark Lord orders? Are you so vain that you think you are that powerful?' Bellatrix Lestrange spat at him as she got up from where she had landed halfway across the room.

'Oh, you do not know Potter as I do, Bella.' Voldemort kept his eyes focused on Harry. 'He has shown himself to be not weak when it comes to possessing power. But I don't think even he truly realises the extent.'

Harry frowned. Since when did Voldemort think he was powerful?

'I wonder, boy, if that old fool up there has told you just how powerful you truly are. Your existence was foretold. Oh yes, Harry Potter, I know of the late seer's claim that you would be powerful enough to destroy me. You are destined for greatness. The only thing which stands in your way is –'

'You?' Harry watched Voldemort warily, trying to keep his thoughts hidden from those red eyes. Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched in a tight smile.

'You.'

Harry frowned.

'You are the only one who can make use of the power lying at your very fingertips and, in so doing, alter the stories told about you from myth to fact. You are the only one who has the power to change all which has been cruel and painful in your life. You have proven yourself powerful enough to escape death. Shall we see if you are powerful enough to reverse it?'

'If you're talking about bringing my parents back, it won't work.' Harry glared defiantly at Voldemort. 'It's impossible. Even you can't bring anyone back from the dead or you would have done it with your own mother, just to make her suffer for being weak. Also, you would have brought all of your dead Death Eater mates back and had them getting around properly instead of just being controlled like the lifeless puppets that you made them. Sorry, Voldemort, but the answer is no.'

'I was actually referring to one who was taken from you but whom has never properly died.'

Harry's eyes reluctantly followed Voldemort's pointing hand. To his left he saw a stone dais, on top of which stood a tall, crumbling, pointed archway. Across the gap beneath the peak hung a tattered, black veil which was fluttering slightly as if in a gentle breeze.

Harry's chest tightened in recognition. The last time he had seen that archway, Sirius had just fallen through it, the veil falling back into place to separate him from the world of the living.

Harry glanced very quickly at Dumbledore, who was leaning forwards in Gryffindor's chair, a deep frown creasing his brow, his face pale, uncertainty in his eyes.

Harry gazed back at Voldemort. 'Sirius is dead. I saw him die. She killed him.' He pointed at Bellatrix Lestrange.

'So certain, are you? Did you see his dead body lying broken and bleeding before you? Did you see his eyes staring lifelessly into yours? Did you hear death rushing towards him, embracing him, or life escaping him as he exhaled his final breath? Were you witness to any of these things?'

Even though Harry remained silent, Voldemort knew he had made him doubt the outcome of the events at the Ministry of Magic.

'You hear them, don't you?' said Voldemort softly, watching Harry hungrily.

Harry stopped breathing. Very softly, as if whispering with the silent breeze, he heard a voice. Several voices; the people who had fallen through the veil and not returned. Including Sirius. If he strained his ears, he could almost tell what they were saying, which one was Sirius.

'Only those of immense power have the ability to hear the ones who have gone beyond.' Harry heard Voldemort as if from a great distance. 'And they are the only ones with the power to reach through the veil and draw back those who linger between life and death.

'He hovers there, just out of reach, neither alive nor dead. Do you have the strength, Harry Potter, to pull your friend from his lifeless, deathless existence?' Voldemort's red eyes flashed with pure evil. 'Draw back the veil. If you have the strength to do that, you have the strength to challenge me. Or have you condemned your friends to a painful, pointless death?'

Harry could feel Ron and Hermione watching him.

'Will you keep your godfather waiting? For two years he has languished in limbo, awaiting the arrival of the only one who has the strength to pull him completely back into this world.'

'If only the most powerful wizards can bring someone back who's fallen through that,' Harry jerked his head towards the arch, 'how come you don't do it? How come I'm the only one out of you and me who can?' Harry asked in challenge. He heard Bellatrix Lestrange hiss in the background that one so low would dare to speak to the almighty Lord Voldemort like that.

'Oh, we both possess the power to reach through the archway, rest assured that you are not above me on that but, of the two of us, it is you, Harry Potter, whom Sirius Black loved. Only that love, combined with your great power, can return him.'

Harry glanced past Voldemort's shoulder at Dumbledore sitting up in Gryffindor's chair. The white head shook slightly.

'Don't listen to him, Harry,' Neville called out. 'He's just trying to trick you into falling through that arch like that man, Sirius Black, did.'

'And what would you know of Black's passing, boy?' Voldemort spat angrily at Neville.

'I was there.' Neville's voice was shaking slightly. 'I saw him die. And so did Professor Lupin.' He gazed at the arch. 'I don't know what that arch is but Sirius Black didn't come out the other side. He just disappeared.'

'Then how do you know he isn't still alive?' Voldemort almost hissed.

'Professor Lupin said he was dead. And he's never wrong about anything.'

That's right, thought Harry. Of the people who had witnessed Sirius falling through that veil, Remus was closest to Sirius. If there was even the slightest chance that his best friend hadn't really died, he would know. And he certainly wouldn't have lied to Harry about it.

He glanced from Dumbledore to Voldemort and then the arch. Triumphant greed flashed in the hateful red eyes as Harry stepped up onto the dais and reached a hand towards the fluttering veil. The voices were whispering more loudly but he still couldn't make out what they were saying.

'Harry, no,' moaned Hermione. She sounded like she was crying.

Harry glanced towards Dumbledore again, then grabbed hold of the veil with both hands … and, with a rent of tearing cloth, pulled hard.

The archway crumbled, its fragile stones crashing down onto the dais in a cloud of dust as, with the scream of a thousand shattered souls, winds as strong as a tornado twisted around Harry, lifting him and throwing him across the room. He landed heavily, what little breath he had left knocked out of him as he slid to a stop against the base of Gryffindor's tomb.

Struggling into a sitting position, he noticed that the others had also been knocked off their feet by the forceful gusts. The only people who didn't seem to have been affected were Voldemort and Dumbledore.

'Do nothing!' shrieked Voldemort, as Bellatrix snatched up her fallen wand and pointed it at Neville.

'But Master …'

'Leave them. We shall get to them once I have dealt with Potter. I want them to witness the fate which their hero shall suffer at my hands. You need only ensure that they do not escape before that historic moment arrives.'

While Voldemort was busy telling Bellatrix what she could and couldn't do, Harry got unsteadily to his feet, experiencing one heart-stopping moment as he realised he had dropped his wand, but he breathed easily a second later as it was handed to him.

'Thanks.' He glanced up at his rescuer briefly as he turned to face Voldemort again … and stopped. He looked up again, his jaw dropping as he took in just who had picked up his wand and returned it to him.

The statue of Godric Gryffindor, which had been stretched out along the length of his tomb, had awoken.

Glancing around at the others, he saw that Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw had also risen from their repose, though they seemed a little more interested in examining their heirlooms than in what was going on before them. Neither of them seemed at all pleased to find their treasures rather the worse for wear.

'What hath been wrought upon mine cup?' Hufflepuff pushed a couple of stubby fingers through the burned base. 'How dost one take drink now? Didst thou bring a burning upon it?' She glanced up at Voldemort as he gave an angry cry, noticing, for the first time, that the Horcrux had been destroyed. 'Great evil hath been carved deep within its depths.'

'Evil which dost emanate from within thee.' Ravenclaw's stone eyes narrowed as she seemed to look through Voldemort, drawing knowledge from him which he probably hadn't realised he even possessed. She cupped the broken pieces of the eagle in her hands. 'Thou hast sunk to the deepest depths of evil, and thou hast drawn upon the glory of the founders to enable it. Thou art truly undeserving of the life which thou hast destroyed to meet this day. Thine evil dost greet its doom.'

'Thy face ist known to mine eyes.' Hufflepuff was staring at Voldemort very closely. 'One eventide, whilst at my scrying bowl, I didst share a vision of thee. Thou art Slytherin. Last of his blood.'

The other two statues stiffened at this revelation.

Voldemort seemed taken aback that a statue which hadn't seen the light of day in a thousand years could possibly know who he was.

'And might I also have the pleasure of knowing who you are?' He glared at the carved stone, hatred disguising his surprise.

'Helga Hufflepuff.' She blinked at him.

Voldemort glare deepened, as if he would see inside her head to determine if she was speaking the truth or not; Harry almost burst out laughing at the idea of trying to perform Legilimency on a lump of stone. The glare grew thunderous as he glanced from Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw and finally Gryffindor, dawning spreading across his face as he suddenly realised just what he was being confronted with. His evil laugh echoed around the chamber.

'This is the help you called upon? Thousand-year-old ghosts? Oh, Potter,' he grinned evilly, 'you have done that which none before has ever done. You have proved me wrong. I claimed that you possessed great power and you prove that you possess only desperation.'

He glanced at the three statues, all of which were regarding him as though he were a worm. 'They will not help you. They are incapable of helping you. They are not real, only cold stone carved to hold the shape of three people who were foolish enough to challenge my ancestor. And you have now shared in that foolishness.' He laughed again.

'The time for games is over, Potter. It seems almost a pity to destroy you, here, in this cold tomb but, I suppose, it is a fitting end to die in a tomb. So, let us now see how long a mere boy can match himself against the blood of Salazar Slytherin.' He raised his wand.

'I'm not a mere boy,' Harry shouted. 'And my blood can match yours, and better it, any day.'

Voldemort sneered. 'It was your mother's blood which protected you, boy. Once. But no longer. Your blood is of no special value now.'

'That's what you think.' Harry said softly. 'You're not the only descendant here today.'

The red eyes narrowed. 'And what do you mean by that?'

'He dost speak truth that all four of Hogwarts heirs art gathered within these walls.' Ravenclaw stepped forwards to rest a hand on Snape's shoulder. Susan gave a slight start as Hufflepuff laid claim to her. And, with a loud clang as his sword fell to the floor, Gryffindor grasped Harry's shoulder.

To Harry's surprise, Voldemort seemed most annoyed by Snape's connection to the Ravenclaw line; surely he must have realised after he witnessed the destruction of the eagle but, before anybody could pass comment upon the revelation of the founders' heirs, a loud crash and splintering of wood made everybody jump, including Voldemort.

Looking past Voldemort's shoulder, Harry saw the doors healing themselves behind the massive statue sliding towards them, a screech worse than nails down a blackboard making everybody's teeth hurt, the floor shaking beneath its weight. Harry had seen that statue before, deep beneath the Great Lake.

Salazar Slytherin had arrived.

Voldemort stared at the giant statue of Slytherin, then his eyes gleamed redder and he smirked at Harry. Looking up at the stone face, he hissed, 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.'

Harry watched in trepidation as Slytherin's mouth opened. Would the founder's power have brought Harry's Basilisk back to life?

But nothing happened. Voldemort's leer cracked slightly. 'Hear me. Oh great Slytherin, send forth your servant to do my bidding.'

But the only thing forthcoming from Slytherin's mouth was a dark hole.

'The Basilisk is dead, Voldemort,' said Harry. 'I killed it.'

Voldemort glared at Harry. 'You don't have the power. Your Mudblood mother's dying love wouldn't help you.'

'No,' said a voice, so deep its resonance vibrated through Harry; looking up, he realised Gryffindor's statue was speaking. 'But I dost haf the power to destroy Salazar's deadly servant, and I wouldst offer mine help to any which hast earneth the right to strike down evil in its darkest manifest.' And he stared unflinchingly at Voldemort.

The anger emanating from Voldemort hit Harry like a cresting wave. He was glad Gryffindor was holding his shoulder, because he probably would have landed flat on his back otherwise.

Ravenclaw was still staring at Voldemort appraisingly. 'Ist this the evil thou dost wisheth confined to this Hallows?' she asked.

'Yeah, that's him.' Harry nodded.

'And the dark ones which dost accompany him?'

'Them too.'

'Then thy task ist complete. Thou mayest leave these Hallows in safety and surety, in the knowledge that thou didst fulfil thine duty with full consideration for those whom dwell above. Fare thee well, young Gryffindor. Thou art truly of great power.' Rowena Ravenclaw smiled her gentle smile at him.

'Oh no, Potter. You and your friends don't get to leave just because some ancient statue says so. You lured me here in the hope of destroying me. So,' he raised his wand, 'destroy me.'

Harry barely reacted in time. As a jet of green light shot straight at his chest, he instinctively cast Expelliarmus, the spell which served him so well three years ago. The two jets collided midair, and the narrow beam of light connecting his wand to Voldemort's changed from green and red to deep gold. Just as it had last time, Harry's wand vibrated violently as his hand tightened around it, gripping with all the strength he could muster.

He was concentrating so hard on maintaining hold of his wand that it took Harry a moment to notice that both Snape and Susan had also cast spells at Voldemort, beams from their wands connecting to the gold central one not far from where Voldemort's wand was also vibrating.

Harry prepared himself for the moment when the four of them would be lifted off the ground to glide across the chamber, but it never came. Apparently, even though they were surrounded by three tombs, the area was clear enough for the dome to spread out, and it was spreading, splaying outwards as the golden thread connecting the two foes splintered, a thousand offshoots arcing above Harry, Voldemort, Susan and Snape's heads, interweaving, forming a large golden, webbed cage of light.

'Not again!' Wormtail's terrified cry was muffled, distant, as he ran towards the other end of the chamber, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the nightmare which had probably plagued his dreams for three years.

'Master?' Bellatrix Lestrange was not so cowed, although she had no idea what was going on.

'Kill the others!' Voldemort shouted to her. 'Make them suffer!' His eyes were filled with anger as he struggled with his wand, trying to break the connection, both hands clamped around the length of wood so tightly, the white skin started to turn red with the strain, but to no avail. Harry tightened his own grip and focused on the thread, willing it to remain strong.

Beyond the dome, Harry heard a faint scream and almost dropped his wand. He tried to peer through the lines of light, but couldn't see if the screamer had been one of his friends or Sirius's cousin. All he could see were shadowy shapes and coloured flashes as battle was joined between Voldemort's Death Eater and Remus, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna.

Then the weight of Harry's concern for his friends lifted as beautiful, ethereal music shimmered around him, inside him, filling him with hope that this just might end happily. Every strand of the gold web was pulsing with phoenix song, echoing through the vast chamber, filling those within the dome. It reinforced the thought he had held since he had first joined his wand against Voldemort's, singing it loudly and proudly to the room and those within it:

Don't break the connection.

Harry fought to hold the connection as his wand vibrated more strongly, desperate to do as the music bid, but it was so much harder to do. Help me, he begged the music, hoping against hope that Fawkes would somehow still his wand, knowing that the request was useless, just the plea of a desperate man. The music grew … fuller, rather than louder … clearer than it had been in the graveyard at Little Hangleton … and after a moment, Harry saw why. Not only were Fawkes's tail feathers inside Harry and Voldemort's wands creating the phoenix song. Fawkes had appeared just beyond the web, circling the dome, looking like a comet as fire trailed behind him.

But it was not from this quarter that help came. With a jolt which would probably have made Harry drop his wand had it been possible, a large stone hand clamped suddenly over his, grasping both his hands and wand in an unbreakable grip. Glancing up, Harry saw that Gryffindor had decided to add his strength to the equation. Gazing back around the dome, Harry saw that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had also joined the party, holding both Susan and Snape's hands firmly around the ends of their wands as well, though Snape looked less than pleased with the arrangement.

Not that it mattered. With another violent shudder, large beads of light began to slide along the thread joining Harry and Voldemort's wands, moving up and down the length of gold between where Susan and Snape's beams joined in. Harry concentrated like crazy on the beads, letting the phoenix song strengthen him, forcing the beads back towards his parents' murderer. He needed to get all them completely up Voldemort's end of the thread but, no matter how hard he concentrated, they just wouldn't move past those extra beams. He glanced across at Snape who nodded, first at Harry, then across at Susan.

Even though Harry had explained to her what had happened after the Triwizard's third task so she would have some idea of what to expect, Susan still looked extremely frightened and bewildered by what was unfolding before her. Snape's nod only served to panic her further.

With a faint groan of frustration, Snape fought against Rowena Ravenclaw's hand as he pointed his wand further along the main strand, making his beam move closer to Voldemort's wand. The front bead moved slightly. Susan glanced around at Harry, who nodded again, but before she could copy Snape, Helga Hufflepuff made her decision for her, moving her hand in an arc so that Susan's beam also moved towards Voldemort. The light beads gave a final shudder and then slid along the golden thread, moving steadily faster and faster like stones rolling downhill.

'Help me!' hissed Voldemort as his wand vibrated more strongly, ordering the statue of his ancestor to offer him the same stablilising assistance which the other heirs had received, but nothing happened. The monkey-like face just stared at him expressionlessly, the giant mouth gaping stupidly above him. A brief flicker of fear flashed across his red eyes as they reluctantly followed the journey of the front bead of light … it was quivering inches from the tip of his wand … it moved oh so very slowly … trembling …

And then it connected.

A smoky point grew from the end of Voldemort's wand. As Harry and Snape both watched in fascination, (Susan had her eyes screwed tightly shut) the point stretched outwards, widening, until a large arch floated between Harry and Voldemort for a moment before vanishing. Then a head squeezed out of the end of the wand, followed by shoulders, arms and chest as a human body fell to the floor until, picking himself up off the floor where he had fallen, Mr Borgin gazed around the strange circle he had suddenly found himself in.

'You teach him for wrecking my business,' he ordered Harry, Snape and Susan, glaring at Voldemort with cold eyes.

Several screams echoed from Voldemort's wand, pain he had inflicted upon his victims, though they stopped almost as soon as they had started. Then another head blossomed from the wand tip, growing steadily larger, dragging a torso behind it, followed immediately by a second one. Two men dressed in rugged clothing stood up in the middle of the dome and surveyed the scene around them, the two mountain climbers Voldemort had murdered near the cave where the locket had once been hidden.

'So he did cast some kind of curse upon us?' said the younger one as he gazed at Voldemort, then glanced up at the web of gold light above him. 'Wow.'

'You fight against him, son.' The older one looked across at Harry. 'All of you fight him. Don't let him get you like he got us.'

'Yeah,' said the younger one distractedly, still staring at the web. 'Give him what he –'

Harry didn't hear what else he said because, suddenly, more screams burst from the end of Voldemort's wand, mingling with the muffled screams and yells of the combatants outside the dome, echoing around them, seemingly endless as every Cruciatus curse Voldemort had performed recently was forced backwards from the wand which had inflicted them. Harry thought he would go deaf from the noise as it continued. Despite being only an echo of a once-living person, the young man covered his ears with his hands. Harry wished he could do the same but both of his hands were rather preoccupied with maintaining their grip on his wand.

Then the screams stopped as suddenly as they had begun as a giant snake, larger even than a Basilisk, burst forth from Voldemort's wand and fell to the ground. Harry was very glad that Gryffindor was crushing his hand within its own grip because if anything might have made him let go of his wand, it was this. In the moment before the snake vanished with yet another scream, he had seen that the snake's head was like Quirrell's had been back when Harry had confronted him in front of the Mirror of Erised. Almost. While the snake's skin still covered the outside of its head, the shape of that head was like it had swallowed something whole and that something was pushing against the skin, stretching it to its shape. One side of the snake's head had been Voldemort's face, but the other side had been Harry's.

Harry glanced up and found his shock reflected on both Susan and Snape's faces as they stared back at him, too horrified to say anything. Only Voldemort looked as though this new Reversal had not come as too great a surprise.

As more screams filled the dome, Harry wracked his brain, trying to think why he would be inside a snake's head. He had never been swallowed by any snake, not even the two Basilisks he had encountered. It wasn't until a smoky hand dropped to the ground, followed by more screams and then Cedric Diggory's body, that Harry realised just when in the chronology of Voldemort's life the snake had been. It was from the night Sirius had died, when Voldemort had possessed Harry in an attempt to trick Dumbledore into killing Harry for him whilst trying to kill Voldemort.

Harry's heart tightened and he struggled to breathe as, after Bertha Jorkins, the shadows of Lily and James Potter pushed themselves out of the end of Voldemort's wand. Both of them gave him loving smiles before joining the other echoes in whispering words of encouragement to Harry, Snape and Susan and hissing unheard words at Voldemort.

For over an hour (according to Harry's watch) every spell Voldemort had ever cast was Reversed from his wand, adding several more bodies, as well as almost deafening them all with all of the torture he had apparently delighted in.

Susan gasped loudly when her uncle emerged and Snape had paled even further as his mother joined the growing ranks of echoes circling just inside the walls of the dome. 'That's gratitude for you,' snapped Caractacus Burke after he fell to the ground. 'I generously gave your mother gold when she desperately needed it and I gave you a job and this is how you repay me?'

Harry had been a little surprised when neither Moaning Myrtle nor the Riddles had been added to the list of sins, but then he remembered that Voldemort had used Morfin's wand to murder his father and grandparents and the Basilisk had killed Myrtle. Those had been two crimes which this wand had not committed.

It didn't seem to be very much to show for a life, all of this death and pain, Harry thought sadly as he took in the full magnitude of the evil which Voldemort had wrought upon the world. Nothing of value had been created, nobody had been helped; in short, no good had ever come of Voldemort's existence. It needed to stop. Now.

But how? he wondered as the new echoes changed, several quite ordinary (and increasingly simpler) spells being included amongst the bad ones. They were obviously nearing the time when Voldemort first started at Hogwarts and what would happen then, he didn't know. All he knew was that something had to be done soon.

Harry dragged his gaze from Voldemort and strained his eyes to see through the web, taking in the sight of Ron and Hermione fighting Peter Pettigrew, and Remus and Luna trying to keep Bellatrix Lestrange at bay behind Slytherin. Neville lay just near Slytherin's massive feet and, for a moment, Harry thought he was dead, but then he moved, moaning softly as he turned his head. He looked through the golden dome at Harry, his eyes full of fear and pain.

Harry felt frustration boil up inside him. This was getting nowhere. He was never going to destroy Voldemort at this rate. Professor Trelawney must have gotten it wrong. Unless …

The beads started to slide back along the thread towards Harry's wand as his concentration slipped. The prophecy had suggested that Voldemort might have to kill him. That would destroy the Horcrux. But then how was he supposed to be the one with the power to destroy the Dark Lord?

Harry stared, unseeing, at the line of beads moving slowly towards him as he thought about those words. He was the one with the power to destroy the Dark Lord. When he had created his first Horcrux, the man opposite him had taken an irrevocable step, leaving behind his old self and becoming the Dark Lord. That was who Harry had the power to destroy. That persona, forcing the Dark Lord back to the very mortal Tom Riddle.

And suddenly, he knew exactly what needed to be done.

'Mum, Dad.'

James and Lily Potter were suddenly beside him.

'I need you to tell Susan and Snape, when I say "Now", they're to break their link to this.' He nodded towards the light beads. 'When I say "Now".'

'We understand, dearest.' Harry's mother's sweet voice echoed in his ear a moment, then she was gone. A second later, Harry saw Lily whispering in Susan's ear. James was busily speaking to Snape, whose face grew even darker and Harry saw him snap something, clearly very angry. James gazed at the group of echoes harassing Voldemort and Eileen Snape drifted over. She said something which Harry couldn't hear, but he didn't know if she had managed to influence her son or not; Snape still had a thunderous expression on his face. Rowena did tighten her grip, though, and Harry took this as a sign that at least the statues were on his side. As Susan almost screamed, 'Harry, no!' over the phoenix song, Lily drifted over to Neville a moment, then returned to be by her son's left side.

'NOW!' Harry was glad Gryffindor was holding his hand because he would have had great difficulty maintaining his connection with Voldemort's wand as both Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw pulled their descendants free of the dome, Hufflepuff standing on Susan's foot to stop her from running straight back beneath the golden umbrella of light. Almost immediately, the beads started to slide towards Harry, accelerating as they drew closer. First one, then another touched the top of Harry's wand, which started to glow a very faint green. The colour strengthened as more beads reached Harry, until the entire thread shooting from Voldemort's wand was bright green.

Reaching down and holding his mother's hand, Harry dragged his other hand up and touched his wand to his scar, silently concentrating on the words Horcrux Funero. Voldemort's eyes flashed with triumph. Susan screamed, drawing the attention of every living person in the Hallows.

As Harry felt Lily's suddenly-solid hand squeeze his and he closed his eyes against the bright flash of green light, the last thing he saw was ten pairs of eyes staring at him in horror and delight.