Chapter 41

Finish the Job

Andrew Scott stared at the poster of Harry Potter which adorned one of the walls of his small office. As soon as he saw the Benjamin Duval photograph in the Daily Prophet, the young man fell under its spell, and when the posters hit the market days later, he purchased two - a magical version for his flat and a muggle (non-moving) one for his office. Andrew, tall, blond and not yet thirty, knew all about Harry Potter, but never did he imagine that their paths might cross.

Many of his coworkers at the London Advertiser noticed the poster and asked him about it. The Advertiser, a "throw-away" muggle weekly publication, consisted of a fluffy article or two followed by pages of advertisements by companies too cheap to purchase space in more circulated newspapers. Andrew's job title may have been "reporter," but he spent most of his time dealing with disgruntled advertisers. In response to the inquiries about the poster, Andrew merely stated that he happened upon it in a shop somewhere and liked it enough to buy it. The coworkers universally admired the image.

Andrew could not perform the simplest act of magic. His family seemed to produce a squib every generation, his great uncle Ernest, his aunt Isabel, and now him. He lived in the muggle world, associated primarily with muggles, but he continued to follow the magical world through the Daily Prophet and infrequent visits with his family. His older sister, Joanna, had always taken pity on Andrew and checked up on him from time to time. She became something of a hero to him, a successful reporter for the Daily Prophet, rapidly moving up the ladder to covering more important stories until You Know Who's return the previous June. When everything fell apart after Halloween, she actually fled to his flat for a couple of weeks before moving elsewhere. Andrew knew that finding Harry Potter would be the scoop of the decade for Joanna.

Which is why Andrew Scott could barely believe the words of one of his best friends that the boy in that poster lived in her block of flats. She had seen him just the previous day with three friends walking back to his flat. An old man had lived there last year, though she did not know what happened to him. Must have died. As far as she knew, the flat remained empty until just recently when she noticed the teenagers. Thought it was strange; could not be more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Andrew casually extracted additional information from his friend. By the end of the visit, she had convinced him. Harry Potter was living in a muggle flat in London.

The young reporter sent an owl to his sister the previous evening, arranging for "an extremely important" meeting for 11:00 am. Joanna always arrived late, and a glance at the clock proved that this day would be no exception. Andrew fidgeted with the keyboard of his computer until finally, twenty minutes after the arranged time, Joanna Scott stepped purposefully through the doorway to Andrew's tiny office. He stood and briefly hugged his sister, then immediately closed the door.

"Can you do that silencing spell, Joanna. You're not going to want anybody else to hear this." His sister shrugged her narrow shoulders, pulled out her wand, and complied with the request. Short of stature and obsessively thin, Joanna replaced her wand and slid carefully into the room so as not to muss her painstakingly prepared blond hair.

"So what is the purpose of this 'urgent' meeting," Joanna asked in a slightly irritated voice. She had always looked out for her disadvantaged brother, but he could still be a pain in the neck at times.

"I know where Harry Potter lives."

xxxxxxxxxx

A few days earlier, Harry enjoyed the picnic. Since Ron returned from his break late in the afternoon, the four friends decided to spend most of the next day in a remote location where they could be certain not to run into others. Ron and Hermione determined that they could apparate to the valley above McNaughton Castle, in the area well above the trail. That spot itself may not serve as the best site for a picnic, but a short walk would lead them to one of several small creeks draining the hillsides. Harry did not object.

The excitement among Ron and the girls filled the small flat that evening, even though they tried their hardest to mask their enthusiasm. Harry's psychological status remained delicate, and they did not want to douse this first flicker of light. Dobby contained himself with even greater difficulty and busied himself, with the unnecessary assistance of Ginny and Hermione, in the preparation of a tremendous quantity of food for the picnic. Harry spoke little during the evening, but somehow the expression on his face appeared less pained. Or perhaps his friends just imagined it.

Next morning, Ron and Harry apparated to the designated spot, with Ginny arriving through Hermione's apparation. Dobby had not planned to join the foursome, it not being his place, but Harry insisted that the elf come along. He arrived a few moments after Harry set foot on the slope covered with rock and sparse grass. Within minutes, the others located a suitable site for a picnic - a rivulet two or three feet across at its widest trickling down a side canyon. Most of the canyon was steep and rocky, but the creek leveled out in a small quarter-acre clearing. The grass grew more densely in this area, and several medium-sized boulders proved convenient seats. Of course, the witches and wizards (and elf) could have conjured more comfortable seating, but then it would not have been a proper picnic. Instead, they spread out blankets on an especially lush area of turf.

"It's so nice to be out of that flat," Ginny exclaimed, breathing in the cool but comfortable air. Fortune had smiled upon them, for the unpredictable Scottish weather turned out to be clear and reasonably warm for the time of year.

Before slipping into their transfigured beds the previous evening, Ron, Ginny and Hermione reminded themselves not to pressure Harry.

"We can't overreach," Ron reminded them, "Baby steps. Just getting him there is enough for now. Don't pressure him." Ron seemed to understand Harry's condition more instinctively than the girls, and they had learned to rely on his advice.

Thus none of them made any effort to force Harry to do anything. For most of the morning, he either lay on the blanket or slowly walked about the small clearing. Once he dipped his hands into the icy cold water, forcing them to remain in the freezing creek until the numbness stung. For the first time in months, he felt something that made him feel like a real human being. Finally he had to retract his arms, but a moment later he splashed the icy water on his face.

Due to his self-imprisonment in the small flat, the normally light-skinned wizard now had skin white as a sheet. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the girls worried that Harry could burn. Hermione solved this problem by conjuring a canopy over the blankets, and by late morning, Dobby prepared the midday meal. The outdoors stimulated the appetites of the four teens, and even Harry ate a substantial amount. His stomach full, he lay down on the blanket beneath the canopy and promptly fell asleep. For four hours, he slept more soundly than he had since before Godric's Hollow. His three friends relaxed, satisfied that this first step could lead to others.

When finally Harry awoke, he glanced about the clearing. Hermione sat on the grass, her back against a rock, reading a book while she basked in the cool sunlight. Ginny and Ron flicked small rocks into the rivulet, causing tiny fish to scatter in tiny ponds. Dobby, however, sat on the blanket just a few feet from his master.

"Hi, Dobby," Harry mouthed quietly, "Guess I fell asleep."

Dobby answered in his typically loud voice, attracting the attention of the others, "Harry Potter needed to sleep." Harry nodded his head in agreement. Soon the others gathered round.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Ginny asked casually, sitting cross-legged on the grass next to him.

"All right, I guess. Haven't slept that well in a long time. Something about the air out here."

"And all that food," Ron added, "I took a snooze myself." Hermione lay down on the blanket next to Harry, and Ron sat next to his sister.

After a comfortable silence, Harry felt like broaching the subject, "I've been thinking. About my situation. I don't see a lot of good options."

"What options do you see?" Ron asked as calmly as he could. Ginny and Hermione shifted positions upon hearing Harry's unexpected comment.

"Well. I could kill myself to be rid of Voldemort for good. Already tried that, but Dobby here wouldn't let me." Harry smiled at his diminutive friend. "Don't get me wrong, I don't want to do that, but it seems like the only way."

"I know that's an option, Harry," Hermione agreed, by now sitting cross-legged on the blanket, roused by Harry's words, "but I don't think any of us are going to agree to that one. What else are you thinking?"

"Second option is to live separate from the world, except for a few trusted people, like you three, maybe a few others. But that's too hard. Sooner or later they'll find me. The Daily Prophet or Witch's Weekly, or who knows what. And it's not fair to you. You have lives to live. You can't be sitting around babysitting me all the time. I mean, you've already dropped out of school for me, but you can't do that forever. You have lives to live. Sooner or later you have to go back to the real world." The response to this statement proved more difficult.

Finally Ginny took Harry's hand with her own and explained, "You're more than just a friend to us, Harry. The four of us are much more than that. We can't just say, 'That's that! Gave it a try, but now we have to leave you.' You would never do that if it was one of us, and don't deny it!" A smile creased her lips at the last three words, and she enjoyed the feel of Harry's hand, though she could not fail to notice how lifeless it felt.

"Basically, that's what you're doing now," Hermione asserted, "and you have to admit that it's not a very enjoyable way to live."

"You're right," Harry agreed, "especially when I have to control my emotions all the time. If I remain flat, I can control him, but as soon as I become upset or lose my focus, he surges inside of me. So far I've been able to regain control when that's happened, but one of these days . . ." Nobody wanted to think what could occur on "one of these days."

"What other options do you see, Harry?" Ron inquired.

Harry stared back at his best mate and then dropped his gaze to the blanket between his knees.

"I don't see any other options."

"Well I see one, Harry," Hermione declared forcefully, "We're going to figure out how to get rid of Voldemort once and for all. There has to be a way! Work with us, and we'll try to figure it out." She could not control the passion in her voice nor the intensity in her eyes, and she feared that she overdid it, given Harry's precarious state. "When you're ready, I mean," she quickly added, trying to soften her tone. Harry reacted calmly, however, shifting on the blanket.

"I don't think it can be done. I've tried to think of everything. No potion can rid a person of a soul. There's no spell. I know it, and he knows it too. It's worse for him, you know. He can never get his body back now. All the horcruxes are gone. His only hope is to control me, but he's not having much luck. The problem is that I know what he's thinking, and he knows what I'm thinking. It's not that I 'hear' his voice; I just know what is going on in his mind. He can't hide it from me. Lately he's been holding back, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to try and break through my defenses. He doesn't want me to know all of this, but he can't hide it from me. The problem is that he knows everything I think too. There's no way for me to surprise him."

"But how can you be sure, Harry?" Ginny asked, tightening her grip on Harry's hand, "Don't give up hope! There must be a way. It's love, right? That's what Dumbledore told you."

Harry looked into Ginny's eyes, and for a moment she saw the pain that reached into the deepest recesses of his body. He then directed his eyes again to the blanket between his legs.

"I know because I had the chance to finish him off. But I didn't do it. I took the easy way out." He knew the others did not understand. They did not feel what he felt that night on Godric's Hollow, the intense pain of possessing Voldemort's body. But his hunch had proved correct, he now knew, if he had only trusted it fully.

"I haven't told you what happened that night. It's a long story, and someday I'll tell the whole thing. But my basic plan was to possess Voldemort just like I possessed Issamir, in other words, to treat Voldemort as an animal instead of a wizard."

His three friends gasped at the idea; it never occurred to them. They sat frozen in their spots as Harry lifted his head and stared blankly into the distance.

"When I possessed his body, it felt like a thousand knives stabbed me, but the love inside of me caused even more pain for him," Harry explained softly. His friends never knew exactly what happened at Godric's Hollow on New Year's Eve, and of course they never asked Harry for an explanation. "But instead of concentrating on that, I forced him to stab himself with his wand. I transfigured it into a knife just before it entered his gut. It took a long time, a lot of effort on both of our parts. You could say that I pitted my magical power against his, and in the end, I had more. But there was too much pain after the knife entered him. I couldn't hold on; I had to release my possession. So I killed him with my knife." Harry paused dramatically as his friends stared at him mouths agape. "I stabbed him in the back and then in his stomach to finish him off. Hatred filled my heart when I did it, not love. I didn't trust it; I didn't possess him again. I failed when I had the chance. Now it's too late."

Harry's voice trailed off into a soft monotone as he finished his brief explanation, which still was the longest he had spoken since the three friends first arrived. He stared unblinkingly at the blanket. His hand still held Ginny's, but he no longer gripped it, his entire body having gone limp. His friends sat silently, now understanding a good deal more what had happened at Godric's Hollow, and what they faced.

"Okay, now we understand more, Harry. Thank you for telling us," Hermione spoke softly, running a hand though her wind-blown hair which she had uncharacteristically tied back into a pony tail. She then reached for Harry's other hand, holding it in both of hers. "I still think there may be a way. Let us work on it. You just work on controlling Voldemort. Will you let us try?" Her eyes opened wide.

Harry's hair had not been pulled into a pony tail, but it should have been. The afternoon breeze had intensified, and his messy locks flicked over his forehead and into his eyes. Yet he did not seem bothered by the irritation, nor did he even appear to notice.

Instead he stared straight through Hermione, until he finally answered her question, "All right. You can try, but be careful. I just don't think that anything can be done."

xxxxxxxxxx

An untidy stack of Daily Prophets littered the back of the shallow cave. Peter Pettigrew temporarily inhabited his human body while he read the two most recent editions, which he had just managed to acquire on his daily foray into Hogsmeade, always in his rat form. Mostly he searched for news about Harry Potter. Little real news had appeared since the omniocular sequence of the boy in front of Gringotts; nevertheless, some passing reference to The Boy Who Lived could be found virtually every day.

The Ministry had to absorb many complaints and accusations regarding its failure to locate Harry. The Prophet clearly egged on its readers, knowing when it had a story with staying power. But Pettigrew found himself unsatisfied, and his musings about the young wizard soon became an obsession. The animagus' life had once been saved by the boy, who now had managed to ruin it.

The former death eater could not have appeared more pathetic, crouched in the back of the cave, lighting the newspaper with his wand, his clothes tattered and filthy. Yet he did not bother using a repairing or cleaning spell. What did it matter? The Ministry pursued him, and Bellatrix LeStrange wanted him in her small band of unrepentant followers of the dark lord. Not that she liked Peter, but nobody could deny his usefulness. As a rat, he possessed the ability to enter places and discover information that nobody else could.

"Lord Voldemort," he whispered out loud, "I can say it now. Bloody, stupid Voldemort!" That is who truly ruined his life, Pettigrew realized, not the boy. Yet his thoughts remained focused on James and Lily's son.

Over and over he repeated to himself, "It was all my fault. It was all my fault. . . ."

The first time Voldemort "died," Pettigrew almost completely abandoned his human form, but he refused to stoop to that level this time. He would not live as a rat again. No more would he cower in a cave. The decision made, he stood and waved his wand over himself several times. In a minute, his torn clothes healed, and he no longer stank.

If he had to go down, he would take a few people with him.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Most important is to form a strong image in your mind," Harry explained again, "otherwise, you'll just create a huge mess. Stand behind me." His three friends shuffled around Harry, the four of them almost filling the tiny kitchen.

The powerful young wizard stood at the edge of the kitchen gazing into the small living room. A moment later, he clapped his hands. His three friends gasped with pleasure as they witnessed the sofa flying from one side of the room to the other, somehow avoiding the television and other items which also changed positions. They laughed with admiration when everything settled in new perfectly-placed positions. Harry lips formed the merest of smiles. Another clap, and everything moved back to their original positions.

"That's wonderful, Harry," Hermione gushed, "I didn't know you could perform wide-scale magic. Not surprised though."

"Dumbledore taught me just before he died," Harry explained quietly, "He showed me a lot of advanced magic. Really, the wide-scale magic isn't so hard if you have enough power. Just a matter of focus."

Hermione and Ron took turns trying to rearrange the furniture, with various levels of success and destruction, causing round after round of laughter among Harry's three friends. Ginny wanted to try as well, but since she was still underage, they did not want to take the chance, though unlikely, that the Ministry might track her magic. Even Harry chuckled a few times - the first time he had laughed all year.

"What else did Dumbledore teach you, Harry? Can you show us some?" Ron inquired.

Harry nervously replied, "I'd need to use my wand."

Since the day weeks earlier when Harry visited Gringotts Bank, Harry had touched his wand only once, the day his three friends first arrived. He placed it at the bottom of a drawer full of clothes, out of sight. With the remnants of Voldemort inside of him, he dared not use the wand. Even though he could summon it within seconds, somehow keeping it out of sight made it easier not to succumb to temptation.

Ron knew better than to press the issue, casually commenting, "That's fine, Harry. Maybe someday you can show us."

"I can explain some of them to you," Harry remarked, appreciating the enjoyment of his friends, "You can give them a try."

The three friends smiled and nodded their heads, heartened by Harry's improved mood.

xxxxxxxxxx

Andrew Scott cannot be blamed for failing to recognize that his sister, Joanna, had been placed under the imperious curse. The squib never studied at Hogwarts and had only a vague idea of the effects of the unforgiveables. Though surprised that she did not wish to travel to the flat immediately, he did not question her insistence that she needed to return to the Prophet's offices to make necessary arrangements, especially lining up a photographer. Joanna is the pro, he considered; she knows what she is doing.

In fact, Joanna Scott did not return to her office at the Daily Prophet. Instead, within minutes of leaving Andrew's office, she informed Bellatrix LeStrange of Harry Potter's address. Voldemort's confidant grinned.

"Obliviate," she intoned, erasing the memory of the reporter.

She would like to have tortured Joanna, even kill her, but her eyes focused on the more important target. The reporter held no importance any longer, and in a matter of seconds Joanna left, confused as to how she had arrived at the dingy muggle flat where LeStrange and a few of her followers temporarily lived, staying one step ahead of the new Ministry's aurors. Bellatrix watched as the younger witch disappeared. Perhaps she could exploit the reporter again in the future.

"Soon, you will have some real news to report!" she muttered under her breath, closing the curtains.

LeStrange never considered herself the successor to Voldemort. Her tiny band of outlaw death eaters had only two objectives: revenge and anarchy. She would worry about anarchy later, as she had fanciful and unrealistic plans to create such havoc as to bring down the magical government. The witch lacked Voldemort's cunning and intelligence, but matched him in pure evil.

Anarchy could wait, but revenge had to be acted upon immediately. The Potter boy no longer could be underestimated. Though no death eater dared speak the thought, nor even think it, she knew it to be true. The dark lord feared Potter. She heard him scream when Potter entered his mind. Her master knew of the boy's power. That is why he tried so hard to kill Potter while still young. He failed. Time after time. In the past, Bellatrix depreciated the boy, but no longer. After all, Potter killed both Nagini and the dark lord. This time she would not fool around. No taunting, no torture. Just do the job.

xxxxxxxxxx

In the days after the picnic, Harry gradually began to relax. From time to time, the four friends left the apartment to walk down to the small but comfortable courtyard in the middle of the block of flats. Many of the neighbors noticed them, throwing curious stares at the young strangers, especially the teen with the gaunt face and tangled black hair. A few neighbors thought that they ought to introduce themselves and welcome the newcomers, but something about the black-haired boy caused them to keep their distance. On occasion, when too many neighbors stared, Hermione or Ron would discreetly perform the muffliato spell.

Sometimes Harry felt that he could live this way, with Voldemort present but submerged, but he knew better. He still could feel Voldemort's thoughts. The dark lord continued to bide his time; he had all the time in the world. Whether it happened this month, next month, or next year, sooner or later the boy would falter, and then the dark lord would pounce.

Dobby had not taken a break for three months, ever since the confrontation at Godric's Hollow. House elves are amazing creatures. They have incredible endurance and tremendous loyalty. Nevertheless, the strain took its toll, and even Dobby could no longer deny his exhaustion. Harry asked the elf to take a couple of days off, to go back to Grimmauld Place to sleep, or to visit with his family and friends. For some time, Dobby refused, but with the additional encouragement of Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and the fact that Harry appeared to have stabilized, the house elf finally relented.

Thus the four wizards and witches found themselves without Dobby at 9:30 in the morning late in March. After breakfast, Harry entertained his friends by teaching them more of the spells that Dumbledore taught him in the very same room. As Ron and Hermione tried to throw darts emerging from the tip of their wands at a target conjured against the sitting room wall, the four friends laughed freely.

They would never laugh together again.

Ron and Hermione stood together at the edge of the kitchen facing the target, while Harry and Ginny stood side by side next to the side wall of the sitting room watching. As had become her custom, Ginny slipped her right hand into Harry's left while they watched. Without warning, the front door shattered under the effects of a reducto curse. Harry's right hand immediately shot from his side calling for his wand, but in that instant, two former death eaters burst through the hole and shot stunners at Ron and Hermione. Though the two had their wands in their hands, they had no chance to react. Their bodies crumpled to the kitchen floor.

Immediately in the wake of the two initial death eaters, Bellatrix LeStrange rushed behind, spotting Harry. Without a moment of hesitation, she pointed her outstretched wand at the boy, yelling, "AVADA KEDAVRA."

At that moment, Harry's wand shot down the hallway of the small flat but had not yet reached his hand. Instantly he recognized the inevitability of his death, but not only Harry realized this. Deep inside of him, a wave of fear surged up through his body, though his windpipe, and to his mouth.

The barely understandable words, "BELLATRIX, NOOOOO!" emerged from Harry's mouth in a voice not his own, garbled by the struggle inside of him.

But the unintelligible warning arrived too late, as the spell had already been delivered by Voldemort's most devoted follower, her eyes wide with anticipation and fear. Her master would be avenged, and she above all others would be remembered as the greatest of the death eaters.

Yet another person yelled, "NOOOOO!" Ginny Weasley did not have even a second to consider the situation, but she knew instantly that Harry was about to be murdered. She could not allow that to happen, not after everything the boy she loved had done for the world. He would not be required to make the greatest sacrifice.

The beautiful young witch released Harry's hand and leapt in front of him as the green jet of light traversed half of the distance to its target. Harry tried to react fast enough to push her aside, but time did not permit it. Ginny's right shoulder absorbed the killing spell.

Harry watched helplessly as Ginny fell lifeless to the carpet. A moment later his fingers grasped his wand which had finally reached its destination. Bellatrix and the two death eaters stood dumbfounded by the young witch's sacrifice, an eventuality not considered in all of their planning. Harry's eyes widened in outrage, and with one long slash of his wand, the wands of his three attackers left their hands and a moment later landed in Harry's left hand. The force of the spell threw the three attackers into the wall, knocking the air out of them. His right hand pointed the wand at Bellatrix's chest, and his mouth opened with the intention of pronouncing the killing curse.

He paused for a few seconds, trying to absorb what had just occurred. Just ten seconds before, he was laughing with his friends, enjoying their company. Now because of him, another of the persons closest to him had died. Another person had sacrificed herself for him. His mother and father, Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Ginny. All because of him. He gazed at his attackers, now frozen with fear, and he made his decision.

First Harry flicked his wand twice, stunning the two initial death eaters, who fell awkwardly on the sofa and carpet. Bellatrix finally recognized the inevitability of her own death if she did not take immediate action, and she turned in an attempt to apparate. Unfortunately for her, she did not act quickly enough, for Harry's silent "Petrificus Totalus" struck her first. Bellatrix froze in mid twist.

Ginny lay dead at his feet, Harry realized, though the horror of that event had not yet fully penetrated. He knew that it soon would, and he had to act before that happened. Ron and Hermione had only been stunned, however. He had to arrange for their safety first. Thinking quickly, he devised a plan in another five seconds of thought.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered at his friends, levitating the two into his bedroom, carefully laying them on his bed. He moved back to the door, closing it almost all the way. Through the slit that remained, he flicked his wand to the thought of ennervate. His best friends would slowly awaken and be able to defend themselves if necessary. Bellatrix probably would want to leave them alive anyway, as witnesses. He clicked the door shut. Immediately returning to the sitting room, he faced the frozen death eater.

Harry quietly pronounced, "Finite." The evil witch stretched her arms in astonishment before returning her gaze to her prey. Everything had gone wrong, she knew, and no doubt her life would end soon.

Yet instead of killing her, Harry looked down at his fallen friend. His first real girlfriend. The girl he may have married. The girl with whom he had shared the most wonderful moments of his life. He tilted his head towards Bellatrix and threw her wand back to her.

"Finish the job!" Harry ordered quietly, his voice hoarse. He lowered his arms, allowing his wand to hang limply from his right hand. Shock prevented the witch from acting, her mouth agape in confusion.

Inside of Harry, Voldemort again surged to the surface, intending to warn Bellatrix not to kill the boy, that killing him would also kill her master, but Harry concentrated with all of his power at controlling the evil spirit. No sound left his mouth as Bellatrix LeStrange slowly pointed her wand at Harry Potter.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

Nothing stopped the spell this time, and a wave of relief passed through Harry's body. At last, it would end. No more suffering. No more fighting. He had done what he had been placed on the earth to do.

The green jet of light connected with Harry's chest, but he did not immediately fall. Instead an unearthly howl escaped his lips, and Harry's body shook violently for at least ten seconds. And then as suddenly as it started, the howling ended, and Harry's body crumpled next to Ginny's.

xxxxxxxxxx

For a long moment, silence filled the small flat. Bellatrix stared mutely at her fallen enemy. She had succeeded, but she felt no sense of victory. The boy asked her to do it, for Merlin's sake. How could she celebrate revenge when she did exactly what Potter wanted?

Finally, the spells that bound the two death eaters lifted, and they began to stir. Ron and Hermione had finally recovered, and Bellatrix realized that she needed to leave quickly so as not to deal with Potter's two friends, who no doubt would be in a murderous mood. She stepped forward to help her companions when from behind her she heard the last two words of her life.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."