Chapter 35

Are You Ready?

A nervous Hermione Granger set the Daily Prophet for December 31st on the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Several copies of the newspaper rustled while being read by others around the table, but Harry had not bothered. He knew the contents of the article because he largely wrote it.

Ginny disliked the uncomfortable silence around the table where her parents, still in their morning robes, sat along with Fred and George, who appeared the moment they saw Harry's public challenge to Lord Voldemort. They arrived without their usual humor. Life had taken a wrong turn for the twins. Their shop on Diagon Alley had to be closed, and they now spent all of their time working for the Order of the Phoenix. Admiration creased their faces as they greeted Harry, though at the same time they thought he had finally lost his sanity. Harry Potter had written his death sentence.

"He's not going to be happy about this," George remarked as he waved a hand at the Prophet. The twins dressed in subdued muggle clothing, necessary for their duties with the Order. They could not afford to stand out in a crowd, much to their displeasure. Harry had no idea how the twins served the Order, but the effect on their demeanor could be easily detected.

"That's the general idea," Harry responded simply, sitting at the table dressed in his favorite plain black t-shirt. He had convinced Remus and Kingsley as well as his extremely reluctant friends to proceed with the public challenge. No better plan could be devised. It made sense to goad Voldemort to leave the protection of the castle, which he had recently protected with dark wards of his own devise. Trying to infiltrate the castle remained too dangerous. The question on everyone's mind was: How would the dark lord react?

Finally Harry could not resist and picked up the latest edition.

HARRY POTTER CHALLENGES VOLDEMORT

"Stop avoiding me, Tom."

Harry Potter, who as an infant sent Lord Voldemort into a state of oblivion, has publically challenged the dark lord to a final duel. His statement, just received by the Prophet, is printed here in its entirety:

"Stop avoiding me, Tom. I have been trying to contact you for weeks now, but you refuse to respond. The time has come for me to finish what you started. You have tried to kill me many times, yet I have never tried to kill you. Now I will. I know the prophecy, Tom. 'Neither can live while the other survives. It's either you or me. If you still want to kill me, now is your chance, but this time I'll be coming after you.

You could not kill me when I was a baby; you could not kill me when I kept the Philosopher's Stone from you; you could not kill me in the Chamber of Secrets; you could not kill me in the graveyard; you could not kill me at the Ministry. You can't kill me, Tom. You disagree? Then let us find out once and for all.

Will you meet me for a fair duel? Never have you given me the courtesy of a fair fight, Tom. Are you afraid of me? You should be. I have 'the power you know not.' Why do you need your death eaters with you? Am I not but a boy? Are you not the greatest dark lord in history? I will meet you, both of us alone. Surely you do not doubt that you can kill a mere half-blood. Except I forgot, you are a half-blood too, aren't you Tom Riddle? Do your death-eater friends know that their leader's father was a muggle who was not even married to his mother? Do they know that you were raised by muggles in an orphanage? They do now, Tom.

Stop avoiding me! The time has come!"

Harry quickly scanned the rest of the article, which explained some of the letter's comments, for the public knew little of Voldemort's past. The Prophet also announced its new policy of refusing to euphemize Voldemort's name. No more "You Know Who" or "He Who Must Not Be Named." The young wizard sat uncomfortably at the table, the remains of his breakfast sitting before him. Hermione and Ginny threw him those worried stares again, and Harry tired of it. Still, he could not find any reason to ask them to stop, and he could not blame them for their concern.

But Harry was beyond worry now. He remembered how he felt just six months earlier in his final days at 4 Privet Drive, like a boy half way up the ladder to a high diving board for the first time, wanting to turn around. Now he felt that he had just leapt off the board, no turning back. He simply wanted to finish the dive. The young wizard excused himself from the table.

While climbing the stairs back to his room, where he hoped for some time alone, his scar started to tingle. With each step the sensation became more noticeable, and Harry quickened his pace. By the time he reached his room, the pain intensified, and he knew that Voldemort had initiated an attack on Harry's mind. The teen's first reaction was to erect his ice wall to block out the invader, but he quickly discarded this prudent idea. Harry had been itching for a fight, and instead of fear, he felt excitement. Throwing himself on his bed, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his scar, which now seared with pain.

"You've come, Tom," Harry greeted his enemy, "I've been waiting for you." But he did not wait for an answer, instead invading Voldemort's mind violently, harshly bouncing around images in the dark lord's head in an attempt to cause as much pain as possible. It worked, but Voldemort immediately responded in kind, and unknown to Harry, he began screaming in pain. The other occupants of the house heard him and rushed up to the master bedroom.

By the time they arrived, however, Harry no longer showed any sign of pain, but he concentrated intensely, eyes tightly shut.

A stunned Ginny opened her mouth when Ron raised his hand to quiet her, whispering, "He's talking with You Know . . . Voldemort."

"You are trying my patience, Potter. Your level of delusion is remarkable. I almost believe that you think you can kill me."

"Delusion? Which of us is deluded, Tom? How many times have you failed to kill me, a mere boy? Why do you think it will be any different now? I am more powerful than you know. This time you will not survive."

"You know nothing of what you speak," hissed the dark lord, "I cannot be killed. Only I have overcome death. I have forgotten more about magic than you will ever know, Potter. Your death will come easily."

"Then why have you avoided me? I am trying to give you the opportunity to finish me off. But you've never been one for a fair fight, have you? Let us end it once and for all, just you and me."

"You think I am a coward? I am not a coward, Harry Potter. You shall not see the New Year. We shall meet tonight, alone. Where do you wish for your pitiful life to end?"

Harry instinctively knew the answer, "Let it end where it all started. At Godric's Hollow. Tonight at ten o'clock."

"Godric's Hollow? Yes, a fitting site. If you are a worthy opponent in our duel, which no doubt will be a short one, perhaps I will deign to bury you next to your parents. If not, I will feed your body to the spiders of the Forbidden Forest." In that instant, Voldemort vanished from Harry's mind.

Harry's scar continued to throb, but the pain diminished. Opening his eyes, he shivered in surprise to find a half dozen people in his room, as well as two house elves and a snake. None of them dared to speak, awaiting his words. His mouth prepared certain words, but then he paused, discarding what he almost uttered.

Instead he informed them, "Voldemort won't fight me. He did not accept. Not yet, anyway. 'Soon,' he said." Still nobody spoke for a while, but Harry felt that he had nothing more to say.

Finally Hermione, eyeing Harry appraisingly, asked, "Are you feeling OK, Harry? Did you know you were screaming?"

"Was I?" Harry commented casually, "I guess I would have been. It's quite painful to have Tom Riddle in your mind, but you can ask Tom how painful it is to have Harry Potter in his." His voice had transformed into a sneer, slightly frightening his companions. Again his friends stared, and more than ever Harry wanted to be alone. "I'm all right. Just let me have a lie down for an hour or so, and I'll be fine."

Nobody could argue with the prudence of this idea, so in a moment the room emptied. Immediately Harry's mind shifted into fifth gear. Tonight would be the night. Tonight he would in all probability die. Tonight he would meet his destiny.

For an hour, Harry thought more intensely than he had ever thought before. Since his last days with Dumbledore, Harry had developed an idea of what he had to do to kill Voldemort, of how he had to utilize "the power he knows not" and of his connection with the dark lord. The idea did not please him, and for days Harry tried to discount it, avoid it, rebut it. He could not. Everything pointed towards it, both his instincts and his intellect. This last hour of thought reinforced his belief. Nothing to do with Voldemort could ever be simple.

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Harry Potter. Do you need a potion for your head?"

"Listen Dobby. I order you not to tell anybody what I am about to tell you. Tonight, you will help me to kill Lord Voldemort. We are to duel at ten o'clock at Godric's Hollow. Each of us is supposed to arrive alone, but Voldemort will cheat. He is no longer human; he has no sense of fair play. I need you to come with me, not to be seen, but to do whatever you have to do to protect me from whomever or whatever Voldemort brings. If he brings death eaters, I want you to take them out. Kill them if you have to. Do you understand?"

Harry expected to see the typically nervous, hyper elf hop up and down with anxiety, but to his surprise, Dobby's eyes narrowed, and he remained calm.

"Nobody will harm Harry Potter. Dobby does not care about wizard laws any more. Dobby will do whatever Dobby must to protect Harry Potter."

"Thank you, Dobby. You must tell nobody, not even Winky." The elf nodded, to which Harry responded, "Sit down, Dobby. This is the plan. . . ."

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Before leaving his room, Harry reached into the bottom of his trunk to retrieve his Will. He had rewritten it slightly after Winky became his slave, giving her to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with the admonition that she be treated with respect and kindness and that they promise to free her in the unlikely event she should ever request it. This compromise did not entirely satisfy him, but he could think of nothing better. He also added a statement to Dobby, advising him to agree to be employed by Hermione. Not many witches or wizards wished to employ a free elf, and Harry could not think of a better situation for Dobby. Hermione doubtlessly would protect the elf and treat him kindly.

One last thought occurred to the young wizard.

"Issamir," he hissed, waiting a moment for the snake to appear from under the bed, its favorite resting spot. "Tonight I will meet the snake wizard. Either I will kill him, or he will kill me. If I do not return, where do you wish to be taken? I will arrange for it." Issamir did not answer the question.

Instead it hissed, "Take me with you, Harry Potter. Place me in your pocket. I will leave the pocket when we arrive and observe, for I may be able to be of assistance to you. The snake wizard is said to be more snake than wizard. If you die, I will find my way. Do not worry about me further."

"He is still a wizard, Issamir, and a powerful one, but you are correct. Nagini's soul is within him, and I do not know how that has affected him. Perhaps it has changed the way he thinks."

"Serpents can be good or evil, Harry Potter, just as wizards. But we serpents can be cunning, even devious. You should expect the unexpected."

"That is the best advice I have heard in a long time, Issamir. I will take you with me, and I thank you for your friendship."

"And I thank you for saving my life, Harry Potter, for the wolf would have surely killed me. I will do whatever I can to save your life if given the opportunity."

"You have no debt to me. I had to save you to save myself. Any debt you believe you owe has been paid in full, for I have learned much from you in our conversations. I hope we may have more in the future."

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Every time Harry did something that afternoon, he could not help but wonder if it would be the last time. Would this be the last time he lunched with his friends? Would this be the last game of wizard's chess he would play with Ron (understandably, Harry lost pitifully)? Would this be the last time he would see Ginny and her beautiful red hair? Hermione biting on her lower lip? He tried his best to act normally as the occupants of his house prepared for a New Year's Eve feast, and offered optimistic comments about the new year. But he could not fool Hermione.

By mid-afternoon, she sensed something, but she said nothing while others occupied the sitting room. Her opportunity finally arrived late in the afternoon when Mrs. Weasley called for Ginny and Ron, leaving Hermione alone with Harry. The young wizard absentmindedly flipped the pages of an old spellbook, clearly distracted, not even realizing that the two Weasleys had departed. Hermione walked determinedly and knelt on one knee next to Harry's chair. She spoke softly to be sure that nobody overheard.

"What really happened, Harry? You didn't tell us the truth, did you?"

Damn that woman! Harry thought to himself, Why can't I ever get anything by her? What should he say? If he told the truth, she would want to come, and that might ruin everything. Voldemort might just apparate away if he sensed a trap. More importantly, there would be only one death tonight, Voldemort's or his own. Yet if he lied, Hermione would know and would keep an eye on him the rest of the night. Sooner or later she would figure it out.

"It's tonight. It all ends tonight." he whispered emotionlessly, "We are meeting at ten o'clock somewhere. I'm going alone. Don't ask me where it will be, because I won't tell you. Please don't tell anyone else."

He expected his friend to fly into a rage, or burst into tears, or at least attempt to convince him not to go. She did none of those things. Instead she placed her hand on his arm and asked a simple question.

"Are you ready?"

Harry's green eyes stared into Hermione's, and he honestly replied, "I am." Inside, her stomach churned, but her face remained calm.

"Everything you've done has been for this night." Hermione whispered fervently, "You will win, I know it! You are a great wizard, Harry Potter. Tonight is the night that you must believe it yourself." Harry nodded his head but remained silent. Their eyes remained locked together, looking deep inside each other. "Do you know what you are going to do?"

"I have an idea. We'll see if it works."

"Can I help?"

Harry nearly declined her offer, but realized that she could, now that she knew.

"Yes, you can," he accepted, "You can keep everyone away from me after 8:30 or so. I'm going to remove the anti-apparation wards from the house, I'm going to silence my room, and I'll apparate from there. Dobby is going with me to deal with whomever Tom brings, because I know he'll cheat. If he brings too many, I'll come right back and replace the wards. Don't let anybody know I'm gone. In a while I'm going to start acting like I'm ill, and I'll want to go to bed early."

"OK, Harry, I'll keep them away."

"Then after Ginny is asleep, get Ron and go into my room. You can tell Ron then. Wait for me. I don't want Ginny there. I don't want her to see me if . . . if it doesn't end up in my favor. It may take a long time, or I may never return, but Dobby will come. If I come back, be careful. Who knows what will have happened." Harry paused for a moment, but added one more request: "Promise me you'll do what you have to do." She suppressed a gasp.

"I can't promise that, Harry. I don't think I can do that." Hermione finally broke the link with Harry's eyes, closing them tightly as if trying to avoid even the thought of what Harry meant.

"You'll have to, if it comes to it. I'm only one life, Hermione. I don't want to die, but I'm ready. If that's what it takes to win the war, then you HAVE to do it. Mine would not be the first life to be lost in this struggle. But mine can be the last. You'll do it if you have to. Ron and you can do it."

At last, Hermione could not control her emotions, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. She did not wipe them away but renewed her contact with the boy's green eyes.

"Just remember, Harry, it's love that will win. Somehow, it's love. I don't know how or why, but that's what you have to use. Your love for all of us, and our love for you. Ginny's love. Ron's love. My love."

"I know," Harry nodded, a lump growing in his throat, "If I don't make it back, tell them that I love them. Look in my trunk. My Will is there. Tell everyone, the whole magical world, that I tried my best, and that I'm sorry."

The tears continued to fall, and Hermione grabbed Harry's hands, pulling him from the chair and into a tight embrace. They did not move for a long time.

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Dobby, Winky and Mrs. Weasley combined to prepare a wonderful New Year's Eve meal, except that Harry had never been fond of lamb. For his last meal, he would have preferred a baked ham, or even the pizza he shared with Dumbledore in his flat. Nervous and anxious, he wished that 10 o'clock would arrive soon. Time seemed to stand still. Harry forced himself to enjoy the company of his friends, and he found himself smiling at odd moments.

When Ginny brushed her hair out of her eyes in her characteristic way, Harry smiled. When Hermione bit her lower lip, he smiled. When Ron shoveled food into his mouth, he smiled. When Mrs. Weasley ranted about the state of the Ministry, he smiled. When Mr. Weasley questioned Hermione about how movies are made, he smiled. Harry realized that virtually all of the people who meant the most to him currently sat around his kitchen table, all but one of them having no idea of what Harry must do. His stomach churned, but he smiled again.

After dinner they moved up to the sitting room, where the end-of-year conversation continued. Given the state of the world, there would be no New Years parties this year, and none of them planned to stay up to see in the New Year. It most definitely had been an eventful year. Exactly one year ago, Harry sat in this same room with no idea of the events to come.

He learned about the horcruxes from Dumbledore and accompanied him to the cave by the ocean, only to see the old man "killed" by Professor Snape. His friends and he destroyed all of the remaining horcruxes. Harry died, if for only a moment. They captured Professor Snape and Narcissa Malfoy. He killed Draco Malfoy and other death eaters, and he sentenced Lucius Malfoy to a tortuous death at the hands of Lord Voldemort. He kissed Ginny, and she became his girlfriend, if only for a month or two. He started out the year owning one house elf and now owned three. He witnessed Dumbledore's true death. It all made Harry's head spin.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked after eying her former boyfriend for some time.

"I'm fine," Harry responded, perhaps too quickly, "I'm just thinking about everything that's happened this year. When I look back, I can hardly believe it."

"You've done great things, Harry," Hermione averred, "and you'll do more. I'm sure of it!" Only Harry and she knew what she truly meant.

"We'll know soon enough, I suppose," Harry commented as casually as he could. He glanced at the clock and saw that 8:30 had finally arrived, the time to implement the plan he had discussed with Dobby.

"I'm not feeling especially well," Harry claimed with a slight wince, his hand on his stomach, "I think the lamb didn't agree with me. It's never been one of my favorites."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry," Mrs. Weasley apologized with a pained expression, moving to his side, "It was my idea. We so rarely have lamb nowadays; I thought it would be a special treat. Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure a good night's sleep is all I need. I think I'll take a shower and then turn in early. I'm a little tired from earlier in the day," Harry explained, referring to his mental joust with Voldemort.

"Of course, Harry, you do that. Let me know if there is anything you need. I can prepare a potion for your stomach if you like." Mrs. Weasley hovered over him with motherly concern in her eyes.

"Thank you, but I think I'll be fine." Harry took a few steps towards the door, as the others wished him a good night. He turned to them and could not help expressing one last thought to them. "And since this is the last day of the year, I just wanted to say how much I appreciate everything that you have done for me, all of you. I don't know what I would do without you. You are all very special to me. Sometimes I may not show it, but tonight, when the year is ending and we don't know what the New Year will bring, I wanted to make sure that you all know how much you mean to me." The others froze momentarily, surprised by Harry's sudden comment, and a moment later Harry concluded, "Happy New Year!" just before he strode rapidly through the door. He heard the corresponding "Happy New Year's" from the hallway, but he failed to see Hermione fighting back tears and breathing deeply to maintain her composure.

Part of the plan in fact involved a shower, not for any tactical reason. Harry loved his showers, and he figured if he was doomed to meet his maker, he would at least be clean for the appointment. His nostalgia of the evening gradually faded away, and he began to concentrate on the task ahead.

He dressed warmly, for he knew the night air at Godric's Hollow on December 31st would be frigid. Dobby arrived at 9:15 as planned, having told the others that he would check on his master. The house elf appeared poised but nervous, much like Harry, who flung a warm cape over his shoulders. Lastly, he placed several items into various pockets of his robe and cape. Satisfied that all was ready, Harry prepared to leave when the door burst open and Hermione rushed through. She hugged Harry with a force he did not know she had.

Looking him directly in the eyes, she whispered, "You'll win, Harry. I know it!" She kissed him quickly on the lips and started to turn to leave, but then she stopped. Her eyes inexorably returned to look into Harry's, and the two wordlessly stared deep into each other. Hermione knew that she needed to leave, but an irresistible force pushed her head back towards Harry's. She kissed him again, this time for two or three seconds before she finally managed to turn around and rush back out before her emotions claimed the better of her. Unknown to her friend, she raced to the nearest bathroom down the hall where she quickly placed a silencing charm on the door to allow her to release her tears.

After Hermione left, Harry stared glassy-eyed at the door for several moments before recovering and turning his gaze to Dobby.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Dobby replied, raising his hand and chanting something in the elvish language. "Dobby has placed a good-luck charm on you, Harry Potter. House elves are not allowed to place such a charm on wizards, but Dobby no longer cares about house elf laws. May we do our best, Harry Potter."

"That I can promise you, Dobby. I will do my best." He carefully placed Issamir into his pocket and disappeared.