Chapter 34
Just Let It Flow
"Will you do it?"
Draco immediately nodded his head, "Of course I will. I'll do anything now. What do I have to lose?"
"You know that it could end up badly," Harry cautioned him, "
+You may die."
"I'm already dead," Draco retorted, "but I'd like to take the dark lord with me."
Satisfied with Draco's response, Harry directed his eyes to the other person to whom he asked the question. "Peter?"
The balding wizard nodded his head nervously as he answered, "Yes, yes, I will do it, but I doubt it will work. The dark lord has powers of which we know nothing. He'll see through whatever I tell him. His legilimency powers are second to none." He rocked back and forth, beside himself with nerves. Harry's plan would almost certainly result in his death, probably after a good round of torture. "But I will do it; I owe it to you, Harry."
"You owe me a lot more than that," Harry spat, "You owe me my parents' lives. But this is the best you can do."
Ron stood by the wall of the room, flanked by Hermione and Ginny. Anger welled up inside all of them when they saw the two prisoners, and Ron especially wondered again about the wisdom of exploiting them. Evan stood a few feet to the other side of Harry, allowing the young wizard to speak with Draco and Peter.
After Harry awoke at the dental office, he informed the others that he had an idea. Over the next half hour, they quickly devised a plan, filling in the gaps whenever they could. They unavoidably left a lot to chance, but Harry out of hand rejected any suggestion to put off the confrontation any further.
Evan checked his watch and informed the others, "It's four-thirty now. We should start soon." He looked with disgust at the two prisoners. "Are you sure about them, Harry. If I had my way, I'd throw them into Azkaban with their own personal dementor."
Harry stared at the pair again, and his eyes flickered slightly before he brought himself back under control.
"No, I don't trust them, in general. But they'll do what they have to. If they don't, we can abort the plan and let the dark lord have his way with them. I'll shed no tears for these two."
"OK, then we'll get started. I'll go down and explain to Remus, Kingsley and the others. We'll be ready to go in twenty minutes," Evan declared, turning sharply to leave the room.
With a few minutes to spare, Harry's eyes met Hermione's. They stared at each other intensely.
"Ron, can you stay with them? I need to talk to Hermione for a minute."
Ron nodded understandingly, "Sure, mate. We'll keep an eye on them."
Harry led her into the next room over, which happened to be the large residence's library, which appeared not to have been touched in decades. Not especially large, several rows of leather-bound volumes lined the walls, held in dark walnut shelves. Two small tables sat on a faded carpet, each with two dark wooden chairs. But Harry and Hermione did not use them.
They embraced tenderly, and Harry could feel the tension in the young witch's body. Since absorbing the horcrux a few hours before, they had not been afforded a moment alone, and both of them knew that this could be the last time. They held each other in silence.
Finally Harry whispered in her ear, "Dumbledore talked to me. Just now, when I was sleeping. I guess it must have been a dream, but it felt so real. In his office."
Hermione rested her head on his shoulder listening closely to every word, forcing out of her mind all of the negative thoughts that tried to break in.
"It's love. Somehow I have to use the power of love. Up until now, I haven't used it; in fact with each new horcrux, I feel that I'm farther and farther away from love. I don't know if I have enough left in me." His voice trembled.
Hermione could hear his worry and indecision, but she lifted her head off his shoulder and stared him directly in the eyes, asserting, "You have plenty of love, Harry. I felt it in the lake. When you just let it flow, when you don't try to suppress it, you have more love inside of you than anyone. That's what made you go after the Philosopher's Stone, and into the Chamber of Secrets, and to save Sirius and me from the dementors. And love is why you absorbed those horcruxes, because you did not want anyone else to have to face them. You are willing to sacrifice yourself for us. For me. That is the greatest love of all."
Harry nodded his head an inch, his eyes still looking deep within hers. Love from inside of her seemed to flow right through her eyes into his, and he felt heartened. One way or the other, it would end tonight, but he knew that he would not face evil alone. He could still love. It was still inside of him.
"How did you get to be so brilliant?" he asked with a smile, "You always know what to say." She smiled in return, but shook her head.
"No I don't. All I know is that I believe in you. I know you are not evil, and even though you have been affected by your seventeenth birthday and each of the horcruxes, I know that you are still you. You will always be you."
They kissed briefly, and then again, more deeply, and both wished they could push the hands of the clock back a few hours. But after a few more seconds, they knew that time would not stand still. They squeezed each other's hands, and headed out the door.
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Another ancient text fell to the dirty tile floor of another large mansion where he moved shortly after returning from the Hogwarts disaster. He had not entered this particular residence for more than two decades, back when it belonged to some of his earliest supporters. He exploited that wealthy family for more than a little money back in those early days when money still mattered to him. But more than anything, he appreciated their library, which contained numerous unique works on esoteric topics of dark magic.
After exhausting his own personal collection, out of desperation, he gave the order to his few remaining supporters to move again. Now he researched furiously for some means of recovering his lost horcruxes. By now, he knew that Potter must have somehow assimilated at least some of the horcruxes, exactly how he could not determine, but he intended to find a method to extract those partial souls from the nuisance of a boy. Then perhaps he could create a new horcrux to ensure his immortality. Certainly he could no longer bear the luxury of six horcruxes, but in the end, one well-guarded horcrux would do the job. As long as Potter lay firmly in his grave.
So far, however, he found nothing in the dim, depressing library of the dim, depressing mansion. He knew better than anyone that little had been memorialized in writing with regard to the subject of horcruxes. As a young man, he read every known treatise on the subject, a task that did not take a great deal of time, given that only a handful of books dealt with the taboo topic. But all of the known texts never considered the possibility that the creator of the horcrux may wish to reacquire it from another wizard who misappropriated it.
While he continued to toss book after book to the floor, he allowed his instincts to inform him. After all, he must be considered the greatest expert on the subject of horcruxes that had ever lived. Ultimately, he would have to rely on his wits.
Finally, Lord Voldemort stood and walked out of the library of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
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"All right," Evan concluded, "Any last questions?" Hearing none, he turned to Peter Pettigrew and Draco Malfoy. The younger wizard stood tall and proud, summoning the trademark Malfoy sneer, yet he impressed none of the onlookers. Peter did not attempt to put on airs, trembling uncontrollably at the thought of facing his master again.
"Give me you arm," Shacklebolt instructed Peter. The shorter wizard lifted his arm, allowing the tall auror to push the sleeve of his black robe up to his shoulder, exposing the dark mark. Kingsley strapped a small object, which just so happened to be a thin travel clock used commonly by muggles, to Peter's upper arm. Michelle Goldsmith provided both the clock and the strap, which she explained that she used to hold a small radio when she jogged. The non-muggleborn among them did not exactly understand this, but the fact of the matter is that the two devices, obtained on short notice, worked perfectly for their purposes.
Michelle came as soon as she could after being summoned, and she trembled at the realization that she would soon participate in a true mission. A dangerous mission. One in which she could possibly die, although she had been assigned only a support role. Normally, the Order would not have dreamed of sending her on such a dangerous assignment, but they had little choice. As it turned out, her muggle way of thinking solved the problem of how to attach the portkey target to Voldemort's right-hand man.
Kingsley tapped the small plastic travel clock twice, and then pulled Peter's sleeve back down. Gathered around the room stood all of the members of the Order that could answer the summons: Minerva McGonagall, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Cho Chang, Michelle, Kingsley, and Evan. Ron, Hermione and Ginny positioned themselves next to Harry.
Molly refused to allow Ginny to participate, only to be summarily overruled by Harry. They had no idea exactly how many death eaters remained under Voldemort's control, and they needed every wand they could muster. He agreed that Ginny would join Michelle and Cho in the least dangerous roles, but she deserved that right to participate. Ginny did not know whether to be pleased or not, but she felt deeply affected that Harry showed confidence in her.
Likewise, Harry insisted that Cho be included too. He knew her to be a capable witch, and he no longer could find any reason why she should not lend a hand. After all, she had voluntarily agreed to bear the risk of spying on the Minister of Magic himself. Previously, Ginny took her aside and briefly filled her in on the current status of affairs.
"Two minutes," Evan reminded Peter and Draco, "The first of us will arrive then. We need the dark lord distracted. When we arrive, get out of the way, and then help out if you can. If you turn on us, we'll kill you without a second thought. If you help, we'll inform the Ministry. It will be seen as a mitigating circumstance when you are sentenced." Of course, he did not need to add that their sentence also depended on their survival.
"Enough talk," Harry interrupted, "Let's go." Excitement filled his voice, and again his eyes glowed, as they did every few minutes. Cho did not even flinch, realizing that they faced matters much more important than her modesty. In any event, Harry's attention appeared to be far removed from everyone's clothing, or lack thereof.
Draco placed his hand on Peter's shoulder and could feel the older death eater shivering with fear. For his part, he suffered from plenty of nerves too, but after being locked up in that depressing room for a few days, he would have walked into a den of hungry lions. In a way, he was.
Peter inhaled deeply and held out his real hand. Remus placed a wand into it, the first time he had touched one since losing his when Hagrid grabbed his neck. Only he among all of Lord Voldemort's servants had been granted this special power, which he divulged to the Order when questioned under veritaserum. Before the dark lord succeeded in regaining his body in the graveyard, thanks to Harry's blood and Peter's hand, he had been dependent on Peter for every aspect of his life. At times, Peter needed to leave his side, and the hideous creature that Voldemort had become wished to assure that Peter could find him under any circumstances. Thus he instructed Peter to perform a special spell on his dark mark. He merely needed to touch the mark twice with a wand, on the head and tail of the serpent, to be automatically transported to Voldemort's side. Before the events at Little Hangleton, Peter often used this method to return quickly to his master's side. Once Voldemort regained his body, however, he prohibited Wormtail from utilizing this special method except under the most extreme of emergencies. Peter never used it again.
He breathed again, visibly shaking, and touched the head of the serpent. He quickly glanced at the dark mark to find the tail, moving the wand quickly to tap the spot. Just before the wand made contact, he closed his eyes tightly. The two death eaters disappeared with a crack.
After waiting a few seconds, Tonks turned to Remus and silently embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her as well, and caused Molly and Arthur to do likewise. Soon their children joined them in a family huddle, silently imparting their goodbyes, just in case.
Harry turned to Hermione, and the two friends looked deep into each other's eyes. He intentionally etched the memory of her eyes into his brain, vowing never to forget how they looked at that very moment. They embraced briefly, but did not linger, knowing that the first wave to follow Peter and Draco would leave within seconds.
"Be careful, Harry," Hermione whispered. Harry simply smiled, as ever displaying no sign of nerves.
While watching the others, Evan checked his watch, and then without thinking found himself looking for Michelle. When his eyes found her, he saw her eyes already staring at him. They maintained the eye contact for several seconds, and more than ever they both knew that something could happen between them. If they ever had the chance. Evan nodded slightly, and Michelle pressed her lips into a nervous smile.
Finally, Evan, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and Harry moved next to a brass vase charmed to serve as the portkey. Each placed one hand on the rim of the vase, and Evan tapped it with his wand. The five disappeared.
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As Lord Voldemort exited the library of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, he jumped slightly at the completely unexpected appearance of two death eaters that he believed to be lost to him forever. Peter's eyes opened wide at his first view of the dark lord, and he quickly fell to his knees.
"MASTER, WE HAVE RETURNED. WE ESCAPED," he blurted out rapidly, "We are overjoyed to see you again." He trembled noticeably.
Voldemort's narrow red eyes squinted even further in disbelief, and he turned towards Draco, who remained standing and motionless. A few seconds before, the young wizard felt full of valor, but now he froze in fear.
"Explain," Voldemort ordered Draco.
"My Lord," he finally managed, "He's telling the truth. The Order of the Phoenix captured me and has held me since our mission failed. They ambushed us, as if they knew we were coming. Yesterday they brought Peter to my cell. We could do nothing. But something happened just a short time ago. We believe that the Ministry located the Order's hideout, and somehow the ward on our room lifted. The door suddenly could be opened and we walked out. We heard fighting and knew we needed to escape while we could, but Peter saw an order member that had been stunned. He ran over to pick up the wand, told me to grab his shoulder, and the next thing I know, I am standing in front of you."
Draco presented a suitably astonished appearance, but the dark lord did not believe either of them for a second. He sneered first at the older wizard.
"How could you have allowed yourself to be captured by the half giant?" he snarled angrily, "CRUCIO." Peter screamed in pain under the torture of the curse, which he fully expected. He could only hope that the dark lord would allow him to live until the Order arrived. Voldemort lifted the curse after ten seconds and sneered at his former manservant with a full measure of hatred. Despite his need for followers after the loss of his forces at Hogwarts, Voldemort's rage overcame him.
"You are lying both of you," he snarled, "I have no use for you. AVADA KEDAVRA." The green bolt crackled out of his wand and struck Peter's shoulder, whose luck had finally run out. He crumpled to the cold tile floor.
He then turned to Draco, who knew that he would soon suffer Peter's same fate. The dark lord however hesitated for a moment in thought.
By now, several of the few death eaters remaining in the dark lord's service had arrived to check on the commotion.
"Take him away," he ordered, "We'll have some fun with him. I promised his dear mother that I would pay special attention to his torture." Two death eaters stepped forward to flank Draco.
At that moment, a loud boom filled the wide hallway, momentarily stunning the death eaters. Before they knew what happened, four wizards and a witch appeared out of nowhere and fired several spells each. All but two of the death eaters fell awkwardly to the ground.
Draco hit the floor at the first sound of the arrival of the Order, and he reached deep into the pocket of his robe to pull out his wand that he had been handed just before leaving. A few more death eaters still in the house ran towards the noise, and soon spells were cast and shields were erected every second for a short time until all of the death eaters hit the floor. In fact, Draco's stunner felled the last of Voldemort's henchmen.
Turning to face Voldemort, they discovered to their amazement that he had disappeared. Then they realized that one of their number also had gone missing. Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. They stood stunned and could not speak for nearly a minute.
Finally Evan's training kicked in, and he quietly choked out the words, "We better check the house. There may be some hiding, though they've probably disapparated by now."
They began to move when another boom filled the house, announcing the arrival of the second wave: Fred and George, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Their wands thrust forward as they expected to enter a battle zone. Instead they found eight or nine unconscious death eaters strewn about.
"Check the house," Tonks abruptly instructed them, "Go in groups of three." They could hear despair in her voice. Hermione quickly searched all around.
"Where's Harry?" she asked urgently. Nobody answered. "WHERE'S HARRY?" Evan finally approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder.
"We don't know. He and Voldemort disappeared together."
Hermione's eyes and mouth opened wide. This was exactly what they wanted to avoid. They thought that they would be able to assist Harry, just as they did at the bottom of the lake. If they could outnumber Voldemort, then Harry would have a fighting chance to take him. But now, he was completely on his own.
"No!" she uttered despairingly, "It can't be." She seemed close to collapse until Ron scooped her up in his arms and held her tightly.
"He's ready, Hermione," he assured her, and he truly believed it, "Harry's coming back, and Voldemort is going down."
Draco stood off to the side mutely, observing the scene. By now, Kingsley had already collected his wand, and anti-apparation spells had been placed on him anew, though he had no thoughts to flee. So much love among them, he thought, thinking of his three nemeses. He had made close friends in Slytherin House in his six years at Hogwarts, but nothing like what those three enjoyed. Love. That was the missing ingredient. In fact, that was the missing ingredient throughout his life.
Hermione suddenly bolted from Ron and rushed to Draco's side.
"Take me there," she ordered him, "Take me to Voldemort." Of course Draco had no ability to comply with the order, and he stared at the distraught witch almost apologetically.
Ron reached out and wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her away from the astonished young death eater.
"You can't, Hermione. It's meant to be. All of Harry's life has been leading to this moment. He won't fail!"
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When Harry appeared in the hallway of his home, he had only one thought on his mind. Find Voldemort. Thus when his eyes first could see, he did not bother casting spells. Immediately he felt that the dark lord stood to his right, and their eyes briefly met. Glowing green met glowing red.
Voldemort instantly recognized the that his rag-tag band of death eaters stood no chance, so he decided to apparate away to a separate room in the mansion, from which he would calmly pick off the Order members one by one. This time he would not flee but would release his wrath on the attackers. But Harry understood his intention to apparate, and he dove forward, grabbing his left forearm just as Voldemort turned. The two of them disappeared together.
They reappeared a second later in the master bedroom of the house. Sirius' bedroom. Harry's bedroom, though at the moment it contained none of his belongings. Rage overcame the young wizard, and he unthinkingly threw a wild left hook, connecting squarely with Voldemort's jaw, knocking him onto the floor of the dim, dingy room.
The momentum of the swing caused Harry to fall as well, but the fury inside of him remained, almost out of control. Rolling onto his knees, he leaped forward, landing just to Voldemort's side, again trying to punch his face. Voldemort turned his aching jaw just in time, and managed to push Harry away. The two wizards quickly jumped to their feet, the adrenaline inside of Voldemort allowing him to move faster than he had in decades.
"Now you die, Potter," he sneered, thrusting his wand forward, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
But Harry's new sixth sense allowed him to sidestep the killing curse with a minimum of effort, and he returned the attack with, "Sectumsempra."
With his own hair-trigger senses, Voldemort just managed to erect a shield to deflect the curse. The two men faced off again, each breathing heavily.
"You're just a man now, Tom," Harry taunted, his eyes blazing, "Soon you'll join my parents."
Voldemort smiled slightly, as much as his face would allow, and commented, "You've changed, Harry Potter. I can sense the darkness inside of you. Yes, it is quite strong. You cannot deny it. Sooner or later it will consume you, unless you use it. Control it, don't fight it. Together, we could be unstoppable."
"The difference between you and me, Tom, is that there is still a lot of light mixed with that darkness. I'll never give in. I'll never let the dark consume me." They each stepped slowly to their left, keeping their wands trained on the other and refusing even to blink an eye.
"Ah, brave words, Harry. But there will be no need to fight, for soon I will kill you. Dumbledore is not here to save you this time."
Harry laughed, "He wasn't with me in the graveyard either. I don't need his help. Finally I get a fair fight, not like the other times. You talk big, but now I see it. You're a coward! You're nothing!"
The final insult cut Voldemort to the core. Nothing! He had worked all of his life to be something, someone to be reckoned with. No longer an anonymous orphan, now the entire magical world feared him.
"Enough talk, Harry Potter, say hello to Dumbledore." And with that he threw caution to the wind, waving his arms wildly in preparation of an advanced spell which would spew molten rock from his wand.
But before he could finish the complicated, time-consuming spell, Harry surprised him with a simple, silent expelliarmus. Voldemort's wand shockingly flew out of his hand and into Harry's. Both of them stood in complete astonishment at the success of Harry's first-year spell.
Harry gritted his teeth and his eyes glowed brighter than ever as he sensed the kill, the moment that would set him free. Voldemort, however, had other plans. He turned, flinging the sleeves of his black robe dramatically, and Harry immediately knew what Tom Riddle intended. Just as quickly, Harry turned as well, and both bodies fell to the floor, apparently lifeless.
Voldemort intended to possess him, Harry realized, just as he had in the Ministry atrium. On that occasion, the possession caused Harry tremendous physical pain, but this time he did not fear that. The inability to touch Voldemort without pain no longer afflicted Harry, who had wrestled with the dark lord without any pain in his scar at all. In fact, the longer he remained around Voldemort, the stronger he felt. This time, he determined that he would not allow Voldemort to take the lead. Their two souls met in a black void.
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Hermione largely recovered from the initial shock of Harry's absence, and she joined Ron and Arthur Weasley in checking through the house. After a few minutes, they heard the final wave of the Order arrive: Minerva McGonagall, Michelle Goldsmith, Cho Chang, and Ginny Weasley.
At first, they followed Arthur, expecting trouble behind every door, but soon it became apparent that The House of Black had been cleared. Voldemort clearly controlled fewer death eaters than they expected, and the operation which they assumed to be terribly dangerous turned out to be a rout. Finally they reached the door of the master bedroom.
Arthur opened it slowly, only to be pushed aside by Hermione when she glimpsed the lifeless body of Harry Potter lying on his back, his right arm thrown to the side still clutching his wand, his left arm laying on his stomach.
"NOOOOOO!" she screamed as all her fears had been realized. She threw herself over Harry's body weeping uncontrollably, never even noticing the equally lifeless body of Lord Voldemort a few feet away.
When Arthur and Ron entered the room, their initial horror was soon replaced by the recognition that something strange was happening. A charged atmosphere filled the room, as if on the verge of emitting a lightning bolt.
"Do you feel something," Ron croaked as best he could, between his shock at Harry's apparent death and the heavy sensation he felt.
"Yes," whispered Arthur, "Something definitely is going on here. Let me check." He stooped down beside Harry's body and placed his fingers on Harry's neck.
"He's alive, Hermione," he announced quietly, "He's alive, and so is Voldemort, I'd wager. Something is happening that we don't understand."
"They're still fighting, Hermione. I don't know how, but they're still fighting," Ron concluded encouragingly, "Harry's stronger. He's going to win."
Upon hearing Arthur's words, Hermione checked for a pulse herself and felt it. A tidal wave of relief passed through her. Harry had not died, at least not yet. In the background she vaguely heard Evan Harrington and perhaps a few others entering the room, attracted by her scream.
She leaned down to whisper in his ear, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, "It's love, Harry. Remember it's love."
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Perhaps in the annals of magical history a case of simultaneous possession had been recorded. Or perhaps the texts believed such an occurrence to be impossible. Regardless, Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort found themselves in a most unpleasant and unforeseen situation.
Neither felt pain, for their bodies currently did not house their souls, yet Harry felt a horrible constriction on his mind. Or soul. Or whatever it was that currently found itself enmeshed with Voldemort's mind. Or soul. For what seemed like an eternity, Harry saw nothing, and his mind seemed to be a void.
Then he saw an image, then another, then another and another, flashing before him like a slide show. The ceiling of the cupboard under the stairs just two feet above his head; Hagrid storming through the door on that island; Dudley hovering over him pumping his fist; and then the image of a dormitory room that he only recognized from Dumbledore's pensieve - the room of an orphanage; a squalid table around which sat a dozen dirty, hungry children; his hand wrapping its fingers around a snitch; in the back room of a shop, probably Borgen & Burkes; sitting in a classroom at Hogwarts with the distrusting eyes of a much younger Albus Dumbledore gazing at him; a quill etching letters into the back of a hand; a bearded, turbaned old wizard in some exotic land; and on and on, seemingly endless.
Many memories from his life mixed with memories of another life, and Harry felt those two sources of memories merging, almost as if they were thrown together in a cauldron under a strong fire. His mind could barely function, but little by little he determined that Harry Potter was melting away, that Tom Riddle was melting away, and that some new human being would emerge from the pot.
Fight it, fight it, he urged himself, don't let it happen! Don't lose yourself. He tried to control the images flashing by, but they could not be halted. No, no, no, he groaned, and slowly he felt his soul being pulled down, whirling around dizzily as if pulled down into a vortex.
Suddenly he emerged into a different black void. How he knew it was different, he could not say, but from behind him, or what he perceived to be behind him, he sensed light. Turning his mind around, he saw the bright white image of Albus Dumbledore standing before him, his long white beard glowing before the pitch black background.
"I'm losing myself, sir. He's becoming a part of me, and I'm becoming a part of him. I can't stop it. What's going to happen to me? What can I do?" Fear, which had been lacking in him for days, caused his voice to quaver. Dumbledore gazed at him severely, peering over his half glasses.
"What are you forgetting, Harry? Think! What is the power that he knows not? You can resist, but you do not have long."
"But how, sir? How do I harness the power of love? I don't know how!" he shouted despairingly, "Why can't you ever tell me?"
"You've been told, Harry. Think!" And Dumbledore's image transformed into a blur of shapeless light.
As if from a mountaintop miles away he heard the echoing voice of Hermione, "It's love, Harry. Remember it's love."
"I know," he called out to her, "But how? How? I don't know."
The blur of light reformed into the image of Hermione, though her hair almost seemed to be on fire against the pure black, and Harry remembered the words that she spoke just before they left, "You have plenty of love, Harry. I felt it in the lake. When you just let it flow, when you don't try to suppress it, you have more love inside of you than anyone."
Just let it flow, he repeated, don't try to suppress it. He relaxed and let himself go, no longer trying to resist. He allowed himself to think of all that he loved, and soon the faces of all those closest to him appeared: Ginny, Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Sirius, Remus, Ron, Hermione. Those faces faded away, only to be replaced by two ghostly images, which he last saw at the grave yard in Little Hangleton.
They approached him, and Lily Potter smiled lovingly at him while James Potter stood proudly by her side.
"Go back now, Harry," Lily instructed him slowly, "Now is your last chance. If you wait it will be too late."
"Think of the one you love most in the world," continued James, "That love will direct you."
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Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. The two bodies remained motionless on the floor of the master bedroom. Hermione sat cross-legged next to him, grasping his hand. At times she thought she felt a change in his grip, but then she knew that she merely imagine it. Ron sat next to her, at times placing a comforting hand on her back.
"He'll win, Hermione. Have faith. BELIEVE it, and pass it on to him. It will help."
She tried. Amidst her unavoidable worry, she tried to impart her love and confidence through her hand into his. Whether it helped, she would never know.
Evan had taken control of the room, moving everyone out except those he deemed should remain: Tonks, Kingsley and himself to deal with Voldemort if he should regain consciousness, and Hermione, Ron and Ginny to stay with Harry. Evan hoped that their friendship would somehow assist the extraordinary young wizard. Worry filled him as it had never affected him before, as he fretted over the outcome of Harry's struggle with Voldemort. He could not understand why this young man should cause him to feel such strong emotions.
Just in case, the aurors used the incarcerous spell to bind Voldemort's hands and legs, and of course they removed his wand. Evan paced back and forth nervously, while Kingsley stood stoically by the window. Tonks sat on the edge of the bed, not having bothered to change her hair color. All three aurors held their wands firmly, ready to act at any moment.
"I FELT SOMETHING," Hermione screamed, "HE'S COMING BACK!"
The six onlookers witnessed Harry's body jerk violently for ten seconds before calming, and then from behind his eyelid they saw a bright green glow.
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James and Lily melted away. Think of the one you love most in the world, thought Harry, repeating his father's words, and immediately Hermione's face appeared before him, more beautiful than he ever imagined, perfect in every way.
"Come back, Harry. Finish what you have to do, and come back."
"OK, Hermione," he whispered, "I'm coming. Tell me what I need to hear."
"I love you, Harry. It's love. Remember that it's love."
He felt an electricity surge within his soul, and finally he felt an element of control, and he realized what he must do. He already had absorbed three horcruxes, three portions of Voldemort's soul. Now he had to absorb the rest of it. He turned to move and felt himself flying at an incredible speed, coming to a stop abruptly. Before him appeared the image of Lord Voldemort.
"We are becoming one, Harry," sneered the dark lord, "I am unable to retrieve my soul from you, so I will do the next best thing. We will become one, and my spirit will dominate you. A new dark lord will arise!"
Harry realized that he could see himself now too, and he returned Voldemort's sneer, only his contained a knowing confidence.
"Have you ever loved, Tom? As a baby, do you remember loving your mother? Or at the orphanage? Or at Hogwarts? If you ever did, you've lost that ability now, and you cannot survive in it. I am full of love, Tom." Harry smiled broadly at his greatest enemy. "I have absorbed you before, and now I will again. Let us merge, right now. I'm ready. What will be, will be."
Voldemort did not like the tone of Harry's voice. He expected fear, or hatred, or resistance. But all her heard was calm acceptance. Confidence.
"Thank you for killing the snake, by the way," Harry commented while continuing to smile, "That made my job much easier." Suddenly he felt wonderful, not trying to resist at all, but just allowing nature to take course. Just let it flow, he heard Hermione's voice again.
The dark lord's face contorted with hatred, for the glib words of his nemesis only caused him to hate the boy even more.
"You time has come, Harry Potter. The time for talk has ended."
"I couldn't agree more," Harry chuckled in his excellent humor, and then added as if speaking to his friends, "I'll be back soon."
The two images disappeared, and suddenly they found their souls locked together again, just as when they first left their bodies in the master bedroom. But this time, Harry felt perfectly relaxed, and he allowed the faces of Hermione, Ron, Ginny and others to fill his mind, letting his mind wander. He felt no pain and no anxiety. The images continued to fly by at the speed of light, passing by so quickly now that they appeared to make a disjointed motion picture.
Voldemort concentrated with all his might, but immediately he felt a noose constricting around him. His hatred for Harry increased as the noose tightened and he felt himself being sucked through a vortex.
"NO!" Harry heard Tom Riddle yell painfully, "I will overcome you. You cannot possibly resist my power. Lord Voldemort will . . ."
Harry never learned what Lord Voldemort would do, because with a deafening snap, he felt the soul of Tom Riddle disappear. Rapidly the remaining images merged into a mass of colors only to disappear a moment later, having become a part of him.
"It's done," Harry whispered to himself, "Time to go back."
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
Hermione grasped Harry's hand with all of her might while his soul reentered his body, and gently stroked his messy black hair. Whereas before his eyes appeared normal, now they could clearly see the green glow through his eyelids.
"I think he absorbed Voldemort's soul," Hermione softly said to the others, "It's like the last time. Look at his eyes."
Ron and Ginny knelt beside him, both anxious and fearful of the outcome of their friend's confrontation with Lord Voldemort. The dark lord's body had not changed, which increased the optimism of the three friends, but who knew how the invisible battle between the two fated enemies would affect Harry. Would absorbing the remaining soul of the Voldemort, directly from his body rather than from a horcrux, affect Harry even more?
After five minutes, the intensity of the green behind his eyelids lessened, and Hermione felt his body relax. He seemed simply to be sleeping comfortably.
"Let's move him to the bed," Tonks suggested, and Hermione released Harry's hand only long enough for Evan to levitate his body onto the large bed centered against the back wall of the spacious bedroom. Hermione and Ron straightened his arms and legs, and Hermione resumed her post by the bed.
The three aurors in the room continued to observe the body of Lord Voldemort carefully, but noted no change. An hour passed with no change in Harry's body either. At times his eyes would glow through their lids, but then they would return to normal. Gradually over time, they stopped glowing at all.
Evan finally left the room for a few moments, unable to bear the anxiety which filled him more thoroughly than ever in his life. Several others hovered nearby in the hallway, among them Michelle Goldsmith. Evan's eyes met hers, and somehow she knew that he wanted to speak with her. She followed him down the hall, and entered the bedroom where Hermione and Ginny used to sleep in past times.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Evan blurted out without preamble, "I've never felt so nervous in my life. It looks like Harry will live. I think he won their battle, but I'm so worried."
Michelle smiled and replied, "He obviously means a lot to you. More than what you realized. You love him."
"Love him?" Evan repeated disbelievingly, "I've become very close to him, that is true. All I know is that I've never worried like this before over anyone. I wouldn't know if that's love or not."
"You're not a father, Evan," the younger witch explained, "I'm sure that any father could explain what you are feeling. You care more for his life than your own, right? That is a father's love for his child. Or a mother's, for that matter."
The way she said it seemed so simple, but Evan still could not grasp it fully. He paced from one side of the room to the other, clearly perturbed.
"I never thought I was capable of that," he mused while staring at the wall, "I thought only other people could feel that way."
Michelle lay a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him towards her. She looked up at him until his eyes finally met hers.
"I think you are capable of it," she asserted, "I think you've just isolated yourself. If you let someone come close, like you did with Harry, you are capable of great things."
They continued to stare into each other's eyes until their heads moved closer as if magnetically charged. Their lips met lightly, as they nervously kissed.
"When this is over," Evan softly murmured, "I think I owe you a dinner. A man is not supposed to kiss a woman before even having a date." Her smile matched his.
"I'd be honored, Evan. I know of a lot of wonderful muggle restaurants."
Suddenly filled with warmth and optimism, Evan embraced her quickly before saying, "I should get back. I just needed to get away for a second." He paused for a moment as she nodded her agreement. "Besides, I think I blew it. The best place to kiss a girl for the first time is in the middle of a lake." He laughed at her puzzled expression. "I'll explain it to you over dinner."
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
Another hour later, in the early evening, Harry finally began to stir. The three aurors stood swiftly, wands at the ready, just in case. Hermione displayed no such caution, instead running her fingers through his hair. At last Harry opened his eyes, seeing Hermione's eyes before anything else. The two stared at each other without saying a word, and Hermione's heard soared. She knew he was back.
Finally she whispered, "You did it, didn't you? You killed him."
Harry shook his head slightly, correcting her, "I didn't really kill him. Love did. In the end, he couldn't stand it. His soul is gone forever." He glanced around the room for a moment before returning his eyes to Hermione. Softly he added, "We merged. I absorbed what was left of him."
Hermione understood his unspoken worry. What would he be like now? Would she still love him if this partial soul affected him more than the others? But her confident smile reassured him.
"You were always stronger than him, Harry. I mean on the inside. Sure he can affect you a little, but he never had your strength. You'll be fine, and I'll be with you to help." Harry reached his hand to gently touch the side of her face.
After a few moments, Harry turned to his side in order to leave the bed, realizing that the body of Lord Voldemort must still be in the room. Ron helped him to his feet, and Harry immediately turned his attention to Voldemort's still body. Evan anticipated his question and knelt down by the body, touching his neck.
"There's still a pulse," he informed them, "If his soul is dead, then this is just a shell. Like someone who's received the dementor's kiss."
Upon seeing the body, Harry could not prevent a surge of hatred, and his eyes glowed green again. He needed to kill Lord Voldemort once and for all, including this shell of a body. Realizing that he still held his wand, he stepped forward and pointed it downward. His eyes glowed even more brightly, and Hermione suddenly knew that she could not allow him to continue.
"NO, HARRY," she shouted, "WAIT." He lifted his wand and turned towards her. "I'll do it. You shouldn't kill him, Harry. It may be too much for you." The others did not know exactly what she meant, but Harry understood perfectly. The act of killing might push him over the edge, allowing the absorbed pieces of Voldemort's soul inside to overcome him, or at least to push him in the wrong direction. Hermione stepped forward, her arm shaking, for she did not want to kill, even the nearly lifeless body of Lord Voldemort.
Evan stepped forward, "No, Hermione. I'll do it. You're right, Harry should not, but neither should you." Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione lowered her wand, and stepped next to Harry, wrapping an arm around him. Evan glanced at Harry, who merely nodded.
Pointing his wand at the body, Evan carefully spoke the killing curse, "Avada Kedavra." The green bolt emerged from his wand and struck squarely in the chest. Inside of the body of Tom Riddle, his heart stopped beating.