A New Friend or Foe

Chapter Fifteen

Harry gaped, dumbfounded, at the lifeless body of Erica Riddle. His body was numb with shock, his hands shaking, and his knees weak. He knelt down, disbelief tearing at his heart, pain beyond all other ripping at his soul. Her reached out hesitantly, and tenderly touched her cheek—but instantly drew his hand back; her skin was ice. "No…" he moaned to no one in particular.

He heard a mocking chuckle from somewhere behind him. "Ah…poor, dear girl," came Voldemort's mocking jeer. "Who knew she was capable of making such a foolish mistake?"

Harry stood up and whirled around, his eyes blazing in fury. "What she did wasn't foolish!" he roared, a hot moisture pricking at the corners of his eyes. "It was the bravest thing that anyone has ever done for me. It showed what a pure, wonderful person she was. It—it was a sacrifice…of love."

Voldemort smirked, taking a step closer to his adversary. "Oh, yes," he mocked, "what a selfless thing to do. Giving up her life for you, when I am just going to kill you afterward."

Harry reached into his cloak, pulled out his wand, and shoved it a Voldemort. "No," he hissed passionately, refusing to back down. "No! Erica's death will NOT be in vain!"

Voldemort chortled maliciously. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he crooned in a menacingly complacent voice. "Have you not learned? I, Lord Voldemort, am much stronger than you. The only explanation for your surviving my wrath for so long is luck, and the ridiculous protection that old fool Dumbledore has hovering over you. Now, out here in the desolate Forbidden Forest, you are completely at my mercy."

"Not quite."

Voldemort's red eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed in anger. Harry spun around to see two figures hurrying toward the enemies through the growing mist.

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry breathed, terrified. They couldn't have known what great danger they were in. Harry couldn't lose anyone else that he cared about. "No! Go back!"

"Not a chance," Ron said bravely, but Harry could sense the fear in his voice.

Harry heard a gasp of horror and turned to see Hermione staring transfixed at Erica's lifeless body. Voldemort's crimson eyes narrowed angrily. "Enough," he hissed. "Foolish children, you have sealed your own fate."

"Ron, Hermione, please!" Harry pleaded solemnly. "Just go!"

"No, Harry," Hermione sobbed. "We're staying right here, by your side."

Voldemort raised his wand, pointing it at Harry. "This time, you die," he hissed. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light came at lightning speed, but this time, Harry was ready for it. "Impedimenta!" he screamed, and his bolt of red light met Voldemort's green light. The two wands instantly connected with a string of golden light. Priori Incantatum, Harry knew. It had occurred once before, in a deserted graveyard the night Voldemort had returned.

Harry knew what he had to do instantly. The small bead of light in the middle of the golden string needed to be forced to the tip of Voldemort's wand—or, better yet—

"Harry, break the connection!" Hermione screamed. Her voice seemed to come from a distance, and Harry realized that he and Voldemort were being lifted off the ground by an invisible force. "Break the connection! This is Priori Incantatum!"

Harry knew he should do as Hermione had told him, but he couldn't bring himself to actually break it. He knew that if he connected Voldemort's wand with the bead of light, the latter's wand would be forced to recount the last spells in performed in reverse order, and from his previous experience, he remembered that the people Voldemort had murdered would come back as shadows. Mere shadows, but at least he would get to see Erica again, one last time.

Below him, his best friends were shouting for him to stop, to break the connection so he could escape faster, but this time, Harry didn't want to escape. He wanted to fight. To win, to get revenge for his godfather's death, Cedric Digory's death, Erica's death, his father and mother's…his mother. Harry was struck with a strange notion, as he realized something spectacular about Erica's sacrifice. He only hoped his assumption was correct.

He heard a growl of anger, and saw with triumph that the light had connected with Voldemort's, and a slim shadow slid out of the tip of his wand. Erica.

"Harry," she said in an eerily hollow voice. "I can linger only for a moment after you break the connection."

"I know," Harry choked out. "I know why you did it, too. Erica, you shouldn't have."

"Harry, listen to me, for I have but a few minutes with you. I died for you because I loved you. But all is not lost. We may be together yet."

"Wha—what do you mean?" Harry breathed; blissfully unaware of everyone save for the girl he loved.

"There is no time to explain now, Harry. Time is running short. But you must ask Dumbledore about Insamï Resuea."

"What?"

Voldemort fumed and turned to the shadow of his once-living daughter. "You are a fool, girl!" he spat. "Insamï Resuea has been done only once, and certainly cannot be performed when both lovers are dead." He glanced at Harry and laughed evilly. "Where did you learn such foolishness?"

Erica's shadow smiled knowingly. "From my mother. Before she died. I didn't understand it then, but I do now." She cast a wistful glance at Harry before yelling, "Harry, NOW! Break the connection!"

Harry hated to do it, but resigned anyway, crying, "Good-bye, Erica. I love you."

As he began to fall after the connection was severed, and Erica's form slowly dissolved, he heard her voice say soothingly, "We will be together again, Harry…just remember… Insamï Resuea…"

Harry hit the ground, rolled over, and was met by Ron and Hermione.

"Harry! Are you okay?"

Harry didn't respond, but scrambled for his wand, which had rolled several feet away. As his fingers brushed the smooth wood, he felt an excruciating pain in his scar—and his hand.

A foot rested on is hand. Harry's eyes traveled up a tall skeletal body standing over him, robed in ebony. An angry face, paler than a skull, glared down at him.

Voldemort stunned Ron and Hermione with one swift spell—they had been running to assist. "I let them live," Voldemort said harshly, "so I can use them later. An imperious curse on a couple of bumbling students would be an exhilarating way to take over Hogwarts…

"But for now, it is time for you to die. No more games, Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra!"

There was nothing Harry could do to prevent it. The curse hit him squarely in the chest…and rebounded up onto Voldemort.

The dark lord let out an agonized scream. "No! Not again!" he ranted, and Harry witnessed something that he had heard about for many years…something he himself had witnessed once when he was but a year old…

It was as if Voldemort's flesh was being torn off his bones by an invisible predator. His body disintegrated into oblivion, leaving behind only a shadow of his former self—what looked like a cloud of darkness. With a moan of pain, the horrifying vision disappeared into the depths of the forest.

Harry stumbled to his feet, shaking in fatigue, relief, pain, and grief.

"Enervate," he mumbled, pointing his wand at his best friends.

"Harry! What happened?" Hermione demanded, getting to her feet. "What happened to Voldemort?"

"He's gone," Harry answered dully.

"What?" Ron gasped, amazed. "How?"

"Love. It took me a while to figure it out, but now I get it. When Erica gave her life for me, it was the same kind of sacrifice my mum made. A sacrifice of love. I can't believe Voldemort overlooked it again. He tried to kill me, and because of Erica's sacrifice, he was stripped from his body again."

"So…he's dead?" Ron asked hopefully.

To the latter's dismay, Harry shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I think, like before, he's still alive, if barely. But let's hope a faithful servant won't come to help him this time. And let's hope we can destroy him before he comes back to power. But how did you find me?"

Ron smiled. "We overheard Twitty-Twitch talking to Erica earlier. We found out that You-Know-Who is—was—her father. We tried to find you, but you were already heading to the forest with Erica, so we followed you."

"We're glad we found you," Hermione added. "Are you okay?"

Harry glanced at Erica's body, tears flowing freely. "No," he said. "Not at all." He cleared his throat, and turned toward the castle. "Let's go home."

THE END

~Emachinescat ^..^