Sorry to make you wait for this one. I know it's hard, at least if you're involved in the story, because the climax is coming up. I also feel compelled to apologize for the suffocating number of cliffhangers I've been dishing out lately—I know it's dirty and filthy and hypocritical because I am not a fan of cliffhangers when it comes to reading, but you have to admit: they are the best way to end a chapter.

Disclaimer: …why do I even need this? This is fanfiction, people. It's copied, alright?

Chapter 46

Godric's Hollow

Moss had covered the shattered stones and rotting beams, and grass had sprung up in the holes in the wreckage, wrapping itself around the rubble that had long since been forgotten. All it was now was a jumble of stones and broken boards and bits of plastic scattered throughout the lot, piled where a house had once stood, a house that had been destroyed sixteen years ago.

The place where it all began…

He stood in Godric's Hollow.

Harry swallowed hard as he gazed through the darkening night at the wreckage. He could not afford to let his tears affect his vision, but he felt them burning behind his eyes. Forcing them back, he moved forward.

Here there was half of a door, here a faucet that looked as though it were part of a kitchen sink. He nudged a splintered two-by-four beam with his toe, but the years had tied it to the ground with mud and grass, and it would not budge. He groped in his memory for some vague remembrance, something that would bring the decimated house back to life for a moment, but there was nothing. All he could see were his parents' faces, smiling at him from somewhere in his mind. Even this was not an image from the one blissful year he had spent here—it came from the Mirror of Erised he had seen in his first year—but it gave him comfort nonetheless.

The final tinge of blue was fading from the eastern sky, and the world was dark. Harry gazed up at the canopy of stars that blanketed the earth and wondered vaguely if the world was the only one that sustained life in the universe. It's a pity, he thought sadly, that we're heading for destruction with Voldemort gaining power like he is. There are so many limitless possibilities out there that we'll never get a chance to explore because we're too busy killing each other off. Human beings can be awfully cruel to one another.

"Harry Potter."

Harry whirled around, gripping his wand tightly. When he saw who stood there, his eyes narrowed into a fiery glare. "Lord Voldemort."

The tall man bowed mockingly. "At your service." He began to stroll lazily around his enemy. Harry did not turn to watch him, but he seized the magic in the air around him to tell him where Voldemort was and to warn him if he let off a spell.

"You've grown since the last time we met here," Voldemort said dryly, coming back into Harry's line of view. "Your parents would be proud."

"I believe we came here to make a transaction," Harry said harshly. He had stopped being afraid after his opponent's first appearance; he knew there was a very good chance that he would not emerge from Godric's Hollow alive, but it did not faze him. There were things that were worse than death.

"Indeed we did," Voldemort smirked. He snapped his fingers.

There was a howl of wind, a flash of light, and at his side appeared a red-headed, fiery-looking figure. Ginny.

Her wrists were bound behind her back and her hair was tousled, but she looked unharmed. Voldemort's long, spidery, ghostly fingers were around the back of her neck. "Do you have what I asked for?" he hissed.

Harry nodded, glancing worriedly at Ginny. She was shaking, and she looked terrified, but her eyes blazed all the same. He tore his eyes off her face and returned them to the pale, flat one beside her. He waved his hand, and in it appeared Ravenclaw's timeturner.

The small, golden hourglass lay in his open palm, a representation of what he had spent the last year seeking. Was he to give it up now, now at the moment of triumph when he had them all? They had finally completed the quest Albus Dumbledore had died for, and Harry knew that throwing it all away now would make it as if he had died for nothing.

Can I do that?

Can I let Ginny die?

We found them once, he snapped at himself, we can find them again.

"There are more," Voldemort said. "Five more."

"Two have been destroyed," Harry spat. He saw a flash in those red eyes—was it hatred? Fear? Anger?—but a moment later, it was quelled and Voldemort smiled.

"You are stronger than I gave you credit for, Harry," he sneered. "Show me the others."

Harry returned the timeturner to his Deposito and called up the staff, the locket, and the cup in quick succession, making them all disappear just as rapidly. He folded his arms and stood firmly with his feet apart. "I've brought them," he said angrily. "Now let her go."

The man chuckled, a soft, chilling laugh that made Harry shiver, and suddenly his senses went wild. What was he doing here? He had walked into a trap, and there was nothing to stop Voldemort killing him save for a fear of being unable to retrieve the Horcruxes if Harry was dead. But as soon as he turned them over… what then? How could he possibly expect the most evil, treacherous, deceitful wizard in centuries to honor a promise that they could walk free?

His mind raced, summoning all the possibilities, and it came up dry. There was nothing he could do. He could leave now, but then Ginny would die. He could hand over the Horcruxes, but then they would probably both die and Voldemort would be back in possession of his most prized belongings. Or he could fight, struggle in a losing battle that he had no chance of winning.

But Voldemort wouldn't get the Horcruxes, he thought desperately, and it would give Ginny time…

That was all the motivation he needed. He had made his decision. With deep breath, he raised his wand.

I'm not coming away alive. But I can give Ginny a chance.

The Dark Lord laughed again. "You want to fight, do you? Very well, then." He reached over and rubbed his left forearm.

Harry nearly swore. It was a trap. He's called his Death Eaters and now even Ginny won't get away.

Then we'll die together.

Dark, swooping shapes that looked hardly different from the inky hue of the black sky began appearing around him. Ten seconds after Voldemort had made his move, Harry was surrounded by thirty Death Eaters, each with a wand pointed directly at his head.

"Try to fight me, Potter," Voldemort whispered. "Just like your dear father."

Harry had kept his Inner Sanctum ready throughout the night, but now he reached out and pulled at the air for magic. He would need all that he could get.

A spell flew from his enemy, hitting the shield he had erected around himself. He didn't know how he expected to attack such a powerful wizard as the one he faced, but he was resolved to do his best. He sent the strongest spell he knew, backed by all the magic he could draw from the air. "Venniflammus!" he screamed.

An enormous jet of white-hot fire shot out of Harry's wand like a bolt of lightning and struck his opponent directly in the chest. A spell like that would have killed a normal man, but Voldemort only took a step back and laughed. He pushed Ginny towards his Death Eaters, who grabbed her tightly and held her in iron grips, and he slowly approached Harry.

"You are powerful, Harry Potter," he hissed, "but not powerful enough to be anything but a thorn in my side. Crucio!"

Harry blocked the spell and returned with his own. Dumbledore had performed this two years previously while fighting the same man, and it had not worked, but Harry could think of nothing else. "Vennaqui!"

A ball of water conjured itself around Voldemort, wrapping around until he was completely suspended in the liquid. Harry held it, pouring all of his magic and the air's magic and the earth's magic into it, and for a moment it seemed as though he had succeeded. But then the water burst, crashing to the ground and sloshing away into the grass, and Voldemort stood there, not even wet.

"I tire of this," he hissed, and he made a waving motion with his hand.

In a second, ten Death Eaters were all over him, grasping his hair, holding his arms, and twisting his neck until he felt like something was going to break. Someone grasped his wand, yanked it away, and snapped it in half. He could not move an inch. He tried to use a shock of magic to repel them, but he found to his horror that he could not find his Inner Sanctum. Desperately, he reached out for the magic in the air, but it was as though it were nonexistent. He struggled in vain against his captors, and Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Your magic doesn't work because I don't want it to work," he leered. "I can stop your ability to fight with a simple spell."

Voldemort crossed to Ginny and untied the gag. A long, white finger caressed her face, and she shuddered involuntarily. Harry jerked, but he could not tear himself free.

"Ginny Weasley," he hissed, drawing his wand. "My captive again, I see. The offer I made five years ago, when you were obligingly spilling all of your secrets, still stands."

"And the answer I gave five years ago still stands. I will never be your servant."

"Your brother was so gracious as to accept."

Ginny blanched, glancing wildly around. Voldemort motioned to one of the Death Eaters in his circle, who stepped nervously forward and took off his mask. Though the only light came from the stars and an almost-full moon, Harry could very clearly see the face of Percy Weasley.

Ginny gazed into his face, silently imploring him to contradict all of the evidence against him, but he shook his head slowly and stepped back into line. Harry could hardly believe it; he had never liked Percy, but he had never thought him capable of joining Voldemort.

"Very well, Ginny, if you refuse…" he twirled his wand lazily, a cold smile crossing his features. "Crucio!" he shouted.

Ginny screamed, and Harry screamed with her, shouting for it to stop, knowing, understanding, hating her agony. It felt worse than any of the times he had experienced, and he tried to get to her, but all his struggles were fruitless.

She collapsed under the anguish, twisting and writhing as Voldemort mercilessly held the spell. Harry yelled, shouted, bit, kicked, and punched, but he could not wrench himself free.

Finally, Voldemort raised his wand, and Ginny lay panting, moaning on the ground. He turned towards Harry. "Give them to me."

Harry could only shake his head dumbly, thinking of the Horcruxes in his Deposito. He did not know what to do. Voldemort returned his wand to Ginny.

The Cruciatus Curse resumed, and Harry felt every second of torture. He would willingly have taken it all on himself if he could have, but he knew that this was exactly why Voldemort was torturing Ginny, not him; he knew right where it would hurt.

The spell was lifted once again, and once again, Voldemort demanded the Horcruxes. Once again, Harry could only refuse.

He sobbed as the bolt of light flew from Voldemort's wand a third time. He had come here with no intention other than giving the Horcruxes in exchange for Ginny's life, but the more rational part of his mind was back in control and he knew—he knew—there was no way he could just give them up. Not when they were the key to saving so many other lives.

But Ginny was screaming…

"Alright!" Harry gasped, fighting the sobs that wracked his frame. Voldemort lifted the spell and held up a finger, and the Death Eaters released their struggling captive. Harry stumbled away, summoned all four of them at once and tossed them to the ground and the Dark Lord's feet.

"Have them," he spat bitterly, "and let us go." He started towards Ginny.

Voldemort's lip curled up in malice. "Let you go?" he asked softly. "Now, when I have you and my victory at the tip of my fingers?"

A leaden feeling sank into Harry's stomach as he knelt beside Ginny and pulled her against him, feeling her rapid heartbeat, shallow breathing, and painful sobs. She cried into his chest, and he held her close as Voldemort advanced on them. "Congratulations, Ginny," the thin, white lips hissed. "Your lover has bought you a painless death."

"We're going to die," he muttered into her hair, turning his attention fully to her, momentarily forgetting the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself.

"I know," she said softly.

Then kissed her, relishing every last moment he had, not caring that the Death Eaters were jeering or that his face was wet with tears. "Will you marry me?"

"When we meet again," she whispered.

They looked up at the same time. Voldemort was standing above them, his wand pointing down. Harry moved in front of Ginny, but a Death Eater kicked him out of the way and pressed his foot against his chest, pinning him to the ground.

Harry could only watch in silent fear and agony and hatred and anguish, terrible, wrenching anguish, his magic still blocked off, as Voldemort aimed his wand at Ginny's chest. He saw as if in slow motion, the cruel, cold, merciless lips move, forming the words. Sound had deserted him; all seemed utterly silent, but he knew what the spell was.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She looked at him one last time, and her own mouth whispered, "I love you."

The green bolt of light hit her directly in the chest, and her body slumped.

And Harry screamed.