Resolutions
By Neurotica
Forty-Seven
"STUPEFY!" Remus shouted, sending his opponent falling to the ground. He whirled around, searching the place he'd last seen Harry, but not finding him. He'd seen Harry running towards the door, but Remus wasn't sure if he had actually left, or if he'd simply disappeared into the crowd of dueling witches and wizards. The werewolf sighed. Once he'd realized what exactly was going on in the Dark Lord's hideout, he'd had a bad feeling that this would be Harry's chance to face Voldemort. If that was the case, Remus needed to find Sirius, and the two needed to find their boy—they weren't going to let Harry face Voldemort alone.
Might not get a choice, mate, a voice told Remus. If Harry's already gone, it's only a matter of time before he finds Voldemort, or vice versa, and who knows where that will be. By the time you get to him, you'll probably have wasted time that could've been spent fighting Death Eaters.
"DIFFINDO!"
Remus yelled in pain as the curse sliced into his lower back. His eyes watered as he fell to his knees from the pain. Turning around to see his attacker wasn't an option at the moment. In fact, doing anything wasn't an option at the moment. He felt rather than heard someone behind him, but he'd dropped his wand when he'd fallen and didn't have the strength to reach for it. After a few deep breaths, Remus screwed up his face, preparing for more pain, and kicked out his left leg, connecting with whoever was behind him, causing them to cry out. The person fell with a dull thud that Remus could hear clearly, despite the rest of the noise in the room with them. His arms still weak from the pain shooting through his body, Remus reached for his wand and forced himself to turn around. His eyes widened. Hermione was lying on the ground, curled up on her side.
Quickly, Remus looked around, making sure everyone in the vicinity was busy with their opponents, before crawling over to Hermione. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, wondering if she'd been the one to curse him, or if he'd attacked her for no reason.
She looked up at him, her eyes staring blankly at him. His brow furrowed as he watched her for a moment, and realized what had happened—she'd been hit with an Imperius Curse. Remus snapped his head up and looked around, searching for the person who was controlling Hermione. In a corner of the room, kneeling against a wall, a Death Eater was watching Remus and Hermione closely. "STUPEFY!" Remus roared, his wand pointed at the Death Eater. Somehow, the spell passed the other battling Death Eaters and Order members, hitting its target square on.
With another deep breath, ignoring the horrible pain in his back, Remus pulled Hermione's unconscious form away from the battle and sat her against the wall.
"What happened to her?" a voice behind Remus demanded. Remus turned to find Ron had run to them.
"She'll be fine," Remus assured the young wizard. "She was under the Imperius Curse."
"And what happened to you?" Ron gestured at Remus' back.
Remus hesitated. "I was hit with a cutting curse," he said shortly. "Stay here with Hermione until she wakes up." He started to head back to the battle, but Ron called him back.
"I know how to fix that," he said, pointing at Remus' back again. "My mum showed me last summer."
Remus smiled and resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. He never thought Ron would be the type to know Healing spells. "Go to it, then," he urged the redhead.
Ron stood behind Remus, and after a muttered incantation Remus couldn't quite make out, the pain in his back—and everywhere else for that matter—was gone.
Remus turned and looked at Ron, slightly surprised that the youngest Weasley son had performed the spell so accurately. "Thanks, Ron," he said, grinning.
Ron smiled. "Don't mention it." He turned back to his girlfriend. "I'll take care of her," he said quietly.
"Are you sure you'll be all right—"
The question was cut off by a scream some feet from them. Remus turned and found Sirius with a very furious, not to mention frightening, look on his face. The Head Auror was currently dueling with Bellatrix, and Sirius seemed to be winning.
"Aren't you going to help him?" Ron asked, looking from the duel to Remus.
Remus shook his head. "No. This is his fight," he said simply.
Surprised that Death Eaters hadn't attacked Ron, Hermione, and himself while they were busy, Remus took a moment and looked around. Stunned, injured, and bleeding witches and wizards were all over the place. Emmeline and Naomi had two Death Eaters cornered. Remus wondered vaguely how many had been killed on both sides. He'd spotted Dung earlier catching a curse in the chest. It hadn't been a Killing Curse; whatever it was, it had produced a purple flame with a slashing wand-motion. Dung had looked surprised when the curse had hit him, though he had to have seen it coming, and had fallen to the ground. Now Remus could see him, still motionless, but well out of the way of the other battles.
Time to get back to work, Remus thought, glancing back at Ron and Hermione. The wizard placed himself beside his girlfriend, keeping his eyes open on the battle while occasionally glancing at her and rubbing her shoulder.
Remus moved quickly, passing the fierce duel between Sirius and Bellatrix. The werewolf wondered how they could even see each other through the bright flashes shooting from their wands. Shaking his head a little to clear it, he joined Tonks in her battle with Rabastan Lestrange.
Sirius was concentrating harder than he ever had, trying to incapacitate his dear cousin. She'd hit him a few times with various jinxes and curses, but he'd hit her back with some spell he'd never used—he didn't even know he'd known it. Maybe he'd read it somewhere, but he had no idea where. The spell seemed to have caused intense pain for Bella, which only made Sirius smile maliciously and continue with his barrage of spells.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Bellatrix bellowed.
Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the jet of green light leave Bellatrix's wand and make its way towards him. Everything seemed to slow down considerably. There was no battle around them. It was just the two Blacks, each with complete opposite looks on their faces—Bella was grinning triumphantly, while Sirius sat horrified. His mind in overdrive, Sirius hurled himself from his wheelchair onto the floor, praying to every deity he'd ever heard of that the curse would miss him. Unfortunately, the number of times he'd barely missed this particular curse were too many to count, and he was sure to be running short on that good fortune by now.
Please don't let my luck run out tonight... Sirius silently begged.
He felt the curse pass right over his head, causing his hair to fly up a bit, and hit his chair. He sighed greatly in relief.
Oh bloody hell, he groaned, glancing back at the chair—it was now nothing more than a pile of smoking, black ash. That's just spectacular.
Sirius glanced at his smirking cousin. "Ickle Sirikins lost his chair," she mocked. "Now what's he going to do?" She laughed coldly. "It's all over, Sirius. I've waited years for this day."
The Head Auror only grinned. "So have I," he said. "STUPEFY!"
He'd caught Bella off guard, her wand at her side while she'd been mocking him. He felt an immense sense of pride as his cousin's eyes widened in surprise and she fell to the ground unconscious.
Once the excitement of stunning Bella, and stealing yet another one of her wands, had worn off, Sirius looked around, wondering what to do next. His only means of transportation had just been destroyed.
Cursing obscenities that would make even Naomi smack him up side his head, Sirius thought. If he could spot Dumbledore somewhere nearby, maybe the older wizard could conjure him a new chair.
Or I could do it myself...
Before he could even attempt it, a Death Eater tripped over him. Remus approached and stunned the young witch and looked at his friend.
"Do I even want to know what happened?" he asked, glancing from Sirius to Bella to the ashes that were once the Head Auror's wheelchair.
"No," Sirius said. "But I need a new chair."
"I surmised as much," Remus said dryly. "This is your second one tonight, mate. If something happens to this one, you're out of luck." With a bit of concentration and a complicated wand motion, a new wheelchair appeared in front of Sirius.
Sirius grinned at Remus. "Cheers, Moony. Now, how do I get into it?"
Sighing in an overdramatic way, Remus looked at his wand. "I think there's only one way to do this, Sirius, and you're not going to like it."
The other wizard growled under his breath. "Fine. Do it. But if you tell anyone you floated me into my chair, I'll murder you in your sleep. And I know ways to do it without anyone knowing it was me, or knowing you're actually dead, until it's too late."
Chuckling, Remus pointed his wand at Sirius. "Wingardium Leviosa," he recited. With an ugly look on his face, Sirius floated from the ground he was on and into his chair. "How's that?"
"Brilliant," Sirius said, getting situated. "Back to work?"
"I had a different idea for us, actually," Remus said, his face grim. "Harry's run off, and I think he may have gone to find Voldemort."
Sirius paled. "He went alone?" he asked weakly.
Remus sighed. "Which is why I've been trying to find you; I figured you'd want to be there as much as I do."
Nodding, Sirius' chair led the way through the battles to the door. "There isn't anything we can do to stop it, is there?"
"I don't think so," Remus replied.
The two went along silently through the castle, both wondering to themselves where their boy had gotten to. They didn't want to think Harry had found Voldemort. How long could Harry last before Voldemort took him down with a curse?
Stop it! Sirius yelled at himself. Harry's quick with his wand. He can block curses. He'll be fine until you find him.
Sirius started to remember Harry's fourth year and the Triwizard Tournament. When Harry and Voldemort had dueled, their spells had hit each other, and neither could use his wand.
That's when we saw Lily, James, and Julia... But Voldemort would remember that. Maybe he switched wands for that very reason. Maybe he was the one who kidnapped Ollivander, and that was the reason—Ollivander could make Voldemort another wand, one that wasn't related to Harry's wand, and that way, Voldemort could duel with Harry, and not have Priori Incantatem occur.
"Bloody hell," he said quietly, his wand out as he looked around corners for Death Eaters who hadn't yet joined the battle, and more importantly, Voldemort and Harry.
"What?" Remus asked, doing the same with his wand.
"I think I just figured out why Ollivander went missing."
Remus raised an eyebrow at him.
"Priori Incantatem," Sirius said simply. "It happens when Harry's and Voldemort's wands meet. Voldemort knows that, he'd want to do something about it... Right?"
Remus simply sighed heavily, deciding not to reply.
They continued their search for Harry for what seemed like hours, even though it was only a few minutes. Both were too worried about their boy to really notice where they were going or to speak. In fact, Sirius wasn't even sure he could speak if he wanted to. His throat had locked up and it was becoming a bit difficult to breathe. He didn't know if it was because they were getting closer, or because he knew what Voldemort could do to Harry if Harry wasn't quick enough.
"There," Remus finally said quietly, pointing at a door.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, and followed Remus' arm with his eyes. The front doors of the castle were wide open, and it seemed a blizzard had started up outside. "How do you know they're out there?" he asked.
He wished he hadn't asked the question. The moment the sentence was out of his mouth, a scream cut through the air, a scream both wizards knew well.
"Harry," they said in unison. Remus began to run and Sirius sped up his chair.
Please let him be all right... Sirius silently begged.
Harry fell to the ground, hitting the snow hard, but kept his wand in his hands and his head clear. The spell Voldemort had used was painful, but Harry had been in more pain before. He pushed himself up and got back on his feet, though he was weaving a bit too much.
"Tell me, Harry," Voldemort called from some feet away. "How is it that you believe you can defeat me? Your training is not what I'd expected—did your precious guardians not expect this day to come?"
Harry ignored the jab. "I wouldn't be so worried about my training, if I were you, Tom," he called back. "How're those Horcruxes of yours? Missing your pet snake?"
Voldemort bristled and Harry grinned as he ducked behind a tree. He should have known better than to taunt the Dark Lord, but it was fun. And what better way to relieve some stress of facing Voldemort than to annoy him?
Just don't get yourself killed, Harry's mind said in Remus' voice.
Harry paid for his dig about Nagini; he didn't get out of Voldemort's line of fire quickly enough and was hit with a Cruciatus Curse. All he could think was that Sirius was right, Voldemort's Cruciatus was far worse than any Death Eater's. He tried with all his might to maintain control and not give in to the pain. Using the training Emmeline had given him in Occlumency, Harry closed his mind and found immediately the pain had reduced, although some part of him was still aware of it. But he couldn't stay like this forever; if Voldemort kept up the curse—he was currently showing no signs of relenting—Harry would be worse than dead in a matter of minutes.
He fell deeper into his mind and felt something odd happening: he seemed to be drifting further into his mind than he'd ever been. He knew somewhere he should be afraid of this, but he wasn't. It was like he was dreaming, floating through his thoughts. Then he wasn't in his mind at all anymore, but outside his body. He could see himself writhing on the ground, even though his face looked quite calm, almost peaceful. He could see the furious look on Voldemort's face as he intensified the curse, trying to get Harry to scream in pain. And he saw the open doors of Voldemort's castle, and grinned. Two wizards stood there, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen them, and if Harry hadn't known their anger wasn't directed towards him, he definitely would have been frightened.
Harry forced himself back into his body and opened his mind back to the world. He bit his lip to keep from screaming and could taste the blood filling his mouth. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the curse was lifted and Harry could breathe again. He sat up, panting, and saw Voldemort's attention had been diverted to Remus. A hand grabbed the collar of Harry's robes and began to forcefully pull him back.
"All right, Harry?" Sirius asked quickly, trying to look from his godson to his best friend. "You hurt?"
"'Course I do!" Harry gasped. "Didn't you see what just happened?"
Sirius actually grinned a little. "You're fine, then. Good. Come on, up with you. Remus can't do this on his own..."
Harry nodded and stood beside his godfather, grasping the older wizard's shoulder to catch his balance. Sirius waited for Harry to get himself composed. "I'm okay..." the boy said quietly. "I've got a plan, but you have to trust me..."
The Head Auror raised an eyebrow. "That would depend on what you have planned," he said suspiciously.
But Harry shook his head. "There's no time to explain, just trust me, all right?"
After a few moments' hesitation, Sirius finally nodded. "Yeah, I trust you, Harry..." he said in the most sincere voice Harry had ever heard.
"Good. Go help Remus; I'll join you in a minute." Harry didn't wait for Sirius to reply before running off into the forest. He really did have a plan, he'd had bits in his mind for years, but he'd never actually put it all together. He thought of one of the last dreams he'd had at Hogwarts—it hadn't been a vision from Voldemort, but something else. In it, he'd had something in his pocket, just as he did now, and had used it on Voldemort.
Makes sense, considering what it's been used for... Harry thought. Now he just had to figure out how to get close enough to Voldemort to use it.
Harry ducked his head out of the forest, looking towards the battle taking place. Remus and Sirius were doing all they could to hold off Voldemort. The Dark Lord was lazily blocking every spell the wizards sent at him—it hardly seemed like work for him; though Harry knew that had Dumbledore been the one battling him, he'd have had a much more difficult time of it.
"NO!" Sirius shouted suddenly. Harry looked to see what had happened. His eyes widened in horror. Remus had been raised thirty feet in the air and thrown—the werewolf hit a tree with a sickening crack.
Something in Harry snapped. He knew if he was going to get his chance, it had to be now. "OY! Tom!" he shouted. Voldemort ceased his attempts to curse Sirius and turned to Harry. "Come get me!"
Voldemort grinned nastily and advanced on the boy.
Hate like no other coursed through Harry's veins. He had no idea he could feel like this, had never considered how easy it would be to kill somebody, but he didn't care.
"Give up, Harry!" Voldemort called as he continued to approach. "It's over; your werewolf is no more, and once I defeat you, I will rid this world of the filth you call family! Come out, boy; it's time to face your destiny!"
Harry never thought he'd agree with anything Lord Voldemort said, but right then, he knew the Dark Lord was right. It was time to face his destiny, and his destiny was to defeat his opponent and save the wizarding world from darkness and misery. For the first time in his life, since he found out the true meaning of the prophecy, Harry truly believed he could win this battle. He stood tall, just like he knew his father had when he'd faced Voldemort the night he'd been murdered. He would protect his family, just as James Potter had tried to do.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort cried.
Time seemed to slow down considerably. The jet of green light was screaming towards Harry, but he watched it in amazement for what seemed like full minutes. At the very last second, Harry threw himself backwards into the snow, the curse flying over him and hitting a tree, setting it ablaze.
"Sirius! Go find Remus!" Harry called to his godfather who was staring in horror at what was happening.
Sirius was obviously relieved the curse hadn't hit Harry, but was still hesitant to leave the boy, even if it was to see if his best friend was all right. Finally his chair turned away and floated just above the snow at top speed. Seconds later, Harry couldn't even see him. That was how he wanted it.
"REDUCTO!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand over his head and diving to the side quickly. A fiery branch dropped to the snow-covered ground in front of Voldemort, while the rest of the tree blew to small pieces. Using a nonverbal charm, Harry cast an everlasting fire spell that Hermione had taught him on the log so the wet snow wouldn't put it out. The young wizard Apparated away from his spot and to a spot just behind Voldemort.
"Lose something?" Harry asked the Dark Lord, who was still staring at the spot Harry had been. Voldemort spun around. "You know, for a Dark Lord you're not all that clever, are you? You can't even defeat a seventeen-year-old boy! Maybe you're getting senile in your old age," he added lightly, moving his left hand behind his back.
"How dare you insult me, you insolent little brat," Voldemort spat, raising his wand.
Harry only grinned as his left hand moved to his pocket and grasped the item he'd brought along. Voldemort opened his mouth to cast the Killing Curse, time once again slowing down, and the young wizard pulled out the dagger Dumbledore had given him last year. What better way to kill a Dark Lord than with his own Horcrux? As he considered his next move, Harry recalled a story Remus had once told him, about how Godric Gryffindor had killed Salazar Slytherin. The irony of his current situation—the heir of Gryffindor defeating the heir of Slytherin nearly made him laugh, but he stopped himself just in time.
Just as Voldemort began speaking the second half of the curse, Harry moved forward and thrust the business end of the dagger right into the other wizard's chest.
Surprised, Voldemort actually dropped his wand to the snow and began to scream in pain. Knowing it wasn't over yet, Harry twisted the knife—Voldemort's screams increased, and as they did, pain beyond anything erupted all over Harry's body. His brain was on fire, his arms were being electrocuted, and his legs and feet had little bits of glass in every inch of them.
Harry was going to die from the pain. He could feel blood spilling from his body. His eyes were covered with a red film he assumed was from where his scar was ripping open. But through it all, Harry could still see Voldemort—he was paler than ever and covered in blood. Harry vaguely wondered how much of his own blood was on the Dark Lord and vice versa.
One of the last thoughts Harry had of that evening was that it was far too bright to be nighttime.
Sirius reached his best friend much more quickly than he believed could be possible. Remus was curled up, his arms and legs sticking in very unnatural angles that couldn't possibly be comfortable, but Sirius breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the other wizard's chest rise and fall, albeit very shakily and irregularly.
"It's going to be all right, Moony," Sirius muttered to the unconscious wizard automatically. "You'll be all right." He briefly wondered if he was attempting to comfort Remus or himself.
The thought was cast aside immediately as the most horrible, shrieking scream he'd ever heard in his life reached his ears. Sirius turned towards where he'd left Harry to deal with Voldemort and stared. Though he couldn't quite make out the details, he could see two tall figures facing one another in the darkness. The taller of the two sent a jet of bright green light at the other, but that other figure simply stepped out of the way of the Killing Curse. The other figure was now walking purposefully towards the taller of the tow, something shiny in his right hand. Sirius watched in fascination as the shiny object was buried in the chest of the taller figure.
Seconds later, the brightest light Sirius had ever seen filled the area, seemingly radiating from the top of the shorter figure and surrounding the other. It was over as quickly as it had begun and Sirius felt exhaustion take him into unconsciousness.
Harry was lying in soft grass. The last thing he remembered was facing Voldemort, and finally killing him. Harry had thought at that moment that he was going to die as well; the pain in his head had been more unbearable than thirty Cruciatus Curses at one time, and it had lasted long enough that the only thought in his mind was that he'd never see himself to his wedding day.
He lifted his head, finding it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. In fact, he felt none of the pain he'd felt before—not in his head or from the other injuries he'd endured during the battle with the Death Eaters. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the grass, now wondering why he was in grass—hadn't it been snowing before? Could this have been what death felt like? Was this Heaven?
"Need some help, mate?" asked a light voice.
Harry could hear the voice's owner smiling. He looked up and found a face very much like his own, but with hazel eyes shining mischievously. He turned over on his back and grasped the hand of the man holding out his own. Harry was easily lifted off the grass and onto his feet. "Dad?" he asked quietly.
James Potter grinned. "I wondered if you'd recognize me," he said. "It's good to finally see you, er, in person."
"A-are you a ghost? Am I dead?" Harry asked, feeling his body to test its firmness.
"No, you're not dead, but you damn near were," James said grimly. "Your mother and I were watching everything. We saw what you did for Sirius and Remus, how you formed your own plan to save them. That was very brave of you. Very... Gryffindor-like, if you will."
Harry smiled a little. "Thanks," he said quietly. "And Sirius and Remus... Are they okay?"
James seemed to hesitate. "Well, that's a bit difficult, kid," he said sadly. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about all that right now, eh? Besides, your mum's waiting, and she's a bit impatient today—then again, all our nerves are on edge more than usual..."
"Er, all right," Harry responded, trying to work out what was going on. He followed his father across the grass to a cottage he'd seen before only in pictures. Wherever he was, the building he was facing was an exact replica of Lily and James Potter's home in Godric's Hollow. "Er, Dad, I mean, James... er..."
James chuckled and looked over his shoulder. "It's all right, Harry, you can call me Dad if you want..."
"Right... Well, where are we?" Harry asked, blushing a tad.
"Not really sure," James replied, sounding genuinely confused. "Your mum and I... well, we just sort of woke up here. And to be honest, we don't really even feel dead. It's like another world or something... We have jobs, we do our own grocery shopping... Very odd being dead."
Harry managed a grin as James held open the wrought-iron gate.
"Then we found Julia—I assume Sirius told you about her at some point." Harry nodded. "Since then, we've sort of been keeping an eye on you whenever we could. You're one hell of a Seeker, by the way—wish I'd had you on my team when I was at Hogwarts."
"Have you been wasting all this time talking about Quidditch?" asked an amused voice from the door.
Harry looked up and smiled widely. His mother looked exactly like she did in pictures—her dark red hair and green eyes, pale face, and confident stature. She was just as beautiful as Remus and Sirius had always told Harry.
"Hello, Harry," Lily Potter said, smiling. "Feeling all right?"
Harry nodded dumbly. "M'alright," he muttered.
Lily smiled wider and James clapped him on the shoulder.
"Are you lot going to stay out there all night? Dinner's nearly ready..."
Harry looked over his mother's shoulder at a woman with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. All he could think was that she had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.
"Harry, this is Julia, your godmother," Lily said, introducing the woman.
"Hi, Harry," Julia said brightly. Harry waved lamely. "Well, come on, dinner's on the table."
James threw his arm around Harry and led him inside. "You know, Harry, I knew you'd gotten big, but the last time you were this close to me, you fit in my arms. Don't worry, I won't even try that now..."
Harry grinned again. "Thanks," he said, looking around the house in wonder. All the pictures on the wall were of the Potters and their friends throughout their time of knowing one another. It was odd looking at his parents and comparing them to Sirius, Remus, and Naomi. His parents were still the same age as when they'd died, while Sirius and Remus were aging normally.
That's generally what happens when you die, mate, said a voice that reminded Harry strongly of Sirius.
"Have a seat, Harry," Lily said.
Harry nodded and sat down across from Julia.
"Hungry, Harry?" Julia asked, holding out a bowl of mashed potatoes.
While the others started eating, Harry stared around, still feeling confused. "Er, could I ask a question?"
"Of course," Lily said, throwing a look at James to stop him from stuffing his mouth. "What's on your mind?"
"Well, Sirius and Remus, mainly," Harry said slowly. "And Naomi, Emmeline, and the rest of my friends..."
The three adults exchanged a look. Harry couldn't exactly make out what the look meant.
James slowly sat his fork on his plate. "Look, Harry... Much as we may want it to be, war isn't a walk in the park... Especially when you're battling dozens of Death Eaters at a time..."
"James!" Lily and Julia said at the same time.
"What?" James asked cluelessly. "It's true! What I'm trying to say is that no matter how hard you try or how many spells and charms and jinxes you know, you still can't make it out unscathed..."
Harry sighed. "Who died?" he asked flatly.
"Nice one, James," Lily said coolly. She turned to her son. "Harry, we really don't know the extent of anyone's injuries. We know about what you know—yes, people were hurt; we just don't know how badly."
"So Remus could have lived, right?" Harry asked hopefully, looking around the table. There were no smiles or nods. "Right?"
Julia reached across the table for Harry's hand. "We hope so," she said quietly. "We were most worried about you, though."
"Me?" Harry said blankly. "Why?"
"Because of your connection with Voldemort," James said simply. At Harry's confused look, he went on. "It was a lot more than just him reading your thoughts or you getting visions every once in a while that made your head hurt. He didn't know it, Dumbledore didn't even know it, but the connection was much, much deeper than that. Basically, if Voldemort was to die, because of this connection, you'd die too."
Harry's jaw dropped. He tried to form words, but was unable. Finally he closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and tried again. "S-so I am d-d-dead?" he whispered.
Finally, a smile. "No," Lily replied. "Harry, we don't know what happened. One minute we were watching you battle with Voldemort, and the next, we were there with you—your father and I, I mean. There was nothing we could do; we were sort of drawn into your mind..."
Silence. "So you possessed me?" Harry said slowly.
"If you want to get technical, I suppose that's what you'd call it," James said lightly. "But we were able to increase your magic and your strength, and you were able to defeat Voldemort."
"Wait a second," Harry said, his brow furrowed. "Sirius said Voldemort stole your powers when he returned at your cottage... How could you increase my magic if you have no power?"
James grinned in a way that made Sirius look innocent. "Voldemort thought he stole our powers—but have you noticed his attacks were fairly weak this time around compared to the first war?"
"Well no, since I wasn't even born until the last year of it, but Sirius and Remus wondered why he wasn't doing more than he was."
Lily smiled. "That's because Voldemort isn't as brilliant as he thought he was. While he did transfer some powers from the house to himself, it was mostly the energy he'd created by attacking us that night. It was power he already had, but it was almost fifteen years old—it made him weaker. He could do his usual Killing Curse bit, scare people when he wanted, but when it came to big attacks, he had to leave it to his Death Eaters."
"Yeah, he was able to pull of that attack on Surrey with the hurricane," Julia said, "but giants even stopped listening to him—personally, I think they could sense he was weaker, unable to keep his promises." She shrugged. "Either way, all he had left were his Horcruxes. Whether he realized something was amiss, I have no idea, but after three years, he just couldn't do it anymore."
"I'd like to think it was old age and he was dying anyway," James continued. "Whatever it was, I'm sure you noticed those months when there was just nothing—no attacks, no deaths, no disappearances... Voldemort had to go into hiding to rest. Tonight he was planning on just doing away with Sirius and Remus, not expecting you to show up and rescue them. Great job with that again, by the way." James winked. Lily glared. "Sorry, back on track..."
Lily and Julia rolled their eyes at one another. "He did have powers," Julia said. "But they were weak tonight, especially after torturing Sirius and Remus. When you showed up, then the Order, he had to get away—he had potions hidden away to return his power for quick bursts. The potions would have returned all his strength for four hours—he barely lasted one."
"You need to know all this, Harry, to understand what nearly happened to you. You're the reason he was weakened in the first place... He had your blood, which made him more human," Lily said. "Your blood was as good as destroying a Horcrux. But that connection was still there, and if we hadn't been there with you, you would have died."
Harry nodded. "So can I just go back to my body and be all right?" he asked quietly, letting everything sink in.
"Not exactly, kiddo," James said. "Your body's been damaged fairly significantly. You have injuries worse than anything any Healer has ever seen. There's still a long way to go for you; you need strength and energy and magic..."
"How do I get that? I'm assuming I'm unconscious, so it's not like I can do anything..."
"You don't have to," Julia said, smiling sadly. "We can help you, but it'll take some time."
James looked at Lily. "You want to tell him?"
She nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm sure you've heard all about the protection of a mother's blood, you've probably heard it all your life," she said. Harry smiled and nodded. "Well, there is a way James, Julia, and I can do something of the same sort—we can transfer what's left of our powers and energy to you."
"What would that do to you, though?" Harry wondered aloud. "If you have no energy left..." The conclusion he silently came to seemed to be the right one—Lily, James, and Julia had the exact same sad look on their faces. "No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I can't let you do that..."
"Harry, life here—wherever here is—isn't horrible, but it's nothing like the lives we had before," James said gently. "Look at us, we're nearly your age; do you know how weird that is for us? Hell, if we were still alive like this, Lily and I wouldn't be your parents; we would've been your classmates. And Julia..." He looked over at his friend.
"I can't say I've had the best of times here," Julia said quietly, staring miserably at her hands. "Especially without Sirius—I know he's happy, and I couldn't be happier for him, but it's not the same."
Lily reached over and took her hand tightly. "We want to do this for you, Harry," she said quietly. "If it'll give you a chance to recover and live your life, we'll do whatever it takes."
"Only thing is," James said just as quietly as the others, "we need your permission."
Harry sat there thinking for long minutes. If he allowed this to happen, his parents and his godmother wouldn't exist in their world anymore. As odd as it was to think about it, they were living in this world—the proof was all around him: the smells, the feel of it, listening to them talk as clearly as Harry would hear his family back home. They'd basically be killing themselves to give Harry a life. And it wouldn't be the first time, either...
He looked around at the table, seeing the love the three adults had for him, knowing they truly wanted nothing more than to do this for him. He gulped and nodded. "Okay, you have my permission."