Chapter 12
Lucius Malfoy faced Harry on the muggle side of King's Cross Station.
"Odd choice of venue, Potter."
"Less likelihood of encountering anyone we know," remarked Harry blandly. "What say you to my proposal?"
"How do I know you can do as you promised?
"The same way I know you won't direct me into a trap," Harry stated.
Lucius nodded. "Yes, we have no reason to trust one another. But we both have much to lose."
"You have your son; I have my life," returned Harry. "So do we have a deal?"
"We have a deal."
"If you think you are going without me, you've got another think coming!" Daphne's blue eyes flashed.
"It's too dangerous!" Harry tried, but already knew his protests would fall on deaf ears.
"For me, but not for you?"
Harry groaned. "Look, I'm older, I have the cloak, I know more magic, I…"
"Right." Daphne was unimpressed. "And none of that will do you any good if you're all alone against fifty Death Eaters! Even if you could trust Lucius Malfoy, which I'm not at all sure about, you know V..Voldemort won't be on his own."
No matter what arguments Harry offered, Daphne would not be swayed.
Even worse, she promptly informed his friends of his intentions, which resulted in a shouting match.
Eventually a compromise was worked out: Harry would face Voldemort alone, but the others would be lying in wait, disillusioned, to cope with his minions.
That is how Harry found himself, three nights later, standing in Little Hangleton cemetery, preparing to face the dark lord.
According to Lucius, Voldemort intended to perform another ritual to augment his magical strength, since it seemed that shredding your soul in pieces didn't help with that.
He prayed none of his friends would die, but knew that was beyond his control.
Almost, he wished he'd been able to sneak out of the castle and come alone. Harry abandoned that thought: if he had done any such thing, then Daphne would kill him if Voldemort didn't!
He could make out figures now, clad in full death eater regalia. It was a relief to see that only the inner circle was present; they would have had no chance against the dark lord's entire army.
A pentagram had been inscribed, not on the grave of the muggle Thomas Riddle, but on that of Voldemort's grandfather Marvolo Gaunt, whose proudest boast was that he was the direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin.
Harry shivered at the thought of Voldemort gaining the magical prowess of Slytherin, and knew he had no choice than to disrupt the ritual.
He braced himself, and prepared to cast fiendfyre.
It was then he heard the screams.
Mulciber was dragging a young muggle woman forward to the pentagram; she was clutching a tiny girl, no more than a year old, tightly in her arms.
As Harry watched in horror, Rudolphus Lestrange stepped forward and wrenched the child away, paying no heed to the pleas of the mother. He placed the little one on the mark, and Bellatrix stood above, moonlight glinting on the dagger in her hand.
Without hesitating, Harry cast Accio; with the unerring reflexes of a seeker, he snatched the screaming baby out of the air.
Luna materialized beside him. "I've got her, Harry!"
The green of the killing curse flashed toward them, but Harry levitated a tombstone to take the impact.
Then spell fire exploded across the cemetery.
The child's mother had been flung aside by Mulciber; she got to her feet and grappled with Bellatrix, who was still wielding the knife.
The mother faced the maniac…
It might have seemed an unequal contest: one a magical with a deadly weapon, one a squib with nothing but her pitiable human strength to aid her.
Yet…she was fighting for her child.
She managed to grasp a handful of Bellatrix' hair, and wrenched her head back.
Neville Longbottom, lying in wait for an opening, cast the cutting curse. He meant to slice across Bellatrix' throat, but his spell was powered by years of hate and desire for vengeance, and it decapitated her.
The mother was promptly shielded by Daphne, while the Weasleys took down the Lestrange brothers.
Hermione, who'd insisted on bringing the sword of Gryffindor, lofted it and slashed down on something slithering through the grass. A piercing shriek sounded, distracting the Death Eaters and making Voldemort stagger.
And Harry seized the moment.
The lightning spell…almost impossible to master, yet once learned, could be wielded with power and precision. Harry used it to devastating effect, bisecting the dark lord just above the hips, splitting the snake-like form in two.
That was the end: as life fled the body, the Death Eaters felt the drain on their magical cores through their marks, throwing them into a state of magical exhaustion that resulted in total collapse.
Aurors began popping in, late as usual, but willing and able to take the downed Death Eaters into custody.
Cynically, Harry wondered how many would actually make it to trial and how many would be killed trying to escape.
The mother stumbled towards them. "My baby…!"
"She's fine," Luna soothed. She handed the child over, and the mother held her close.
"That baby is quite nice," continued Luna. "I think I would like one very much….maybe not until I finish school, though."
Daphne flung her arms around Harry. "Is it over? Truly over, for good?"
"Why don't we make certain?" Harry cast Incendio on Voldemort's shredded body, and they watched as it was reduced to ashes.
Harry took a final walk around Hogwarts castle.
Graduation (his second) had been yesterday; the train was leaving soon, and it would be his last ride.
"I'll miss this place," he told his companion.
"I won't," declared Daphne. "I can't wait to get home!"
Harry concealed a smile: Daphne's fondness for Twelve Grimmauld Place always amused him. It wasn't decrepit any longer, since they had completely renovated the old house and even acquired a few more house elves to help Kreacher.
"There's so much to look forward to!" Daphne insisted.
"Mostly a whole lot of weddings," said Harry unenthusiastically.
Daphne pursed her lips. "Including ours?"
He suddenly found it hard to breathe. He'd never doubted that he'd marry her someday, but he'd been thinking of a suitable proposal. It would be romantic, and special, and …
She was still waiting with arms folded.
And all he could manage was to nod his head.
"I was waiting for the perfect moment," he said hoarsely.
"Which is now, right?"
Harry chuckled. "I guess it is."
He reached into his pocket and fumbled for the velvet box he'd been carrying around for months.
He held it out and dropped to one knee. "Will you…"
"Yes!"
"You didn't let me finish!" protested Harry.
Daphne held out her left hand. "I couldn't wait another minute!"
Harry placed an exquisite sapphire ring on her finger, and she flung herself into his arms.
There was a wild outburst of cheering, and they looked up to find themselves surrounded by their friends.
"It's about time!" beamed Tracey, soon to be Mrs. Fred Weasley.
"Definitely," grinned Angelina, already Mrs. George Weasley.
Hermione smiled and offered congratulations. "But what will you do, Harry? Become an auror?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm through fighting."
"Play professional Quidditch?" suggested Ron.
"Quidditch is for fun; I don't want it to turn into a job."
"You could teach at Hogwarts," Neville put in. "I know McGonagall wants that."
"Maybe someday, but not yet," Harry said firmly. "I have the business and political interests of the rising House of Black-Potter to look after, so I think I'll stick to that."
He also intended to increase his investments in the muggle world. And slowly, but surely, build his alliances to make the laws of the wizarding world more equitable for all: Black-Potter, Greengrass, Longbottom. Possibly Bones and Macmillan.
And who knew? Wheels turn; perhaps again he might maneuver to work with the House of Malfoy.
Harry smiled at his betrothed. "Yes, as Daphne mentioned, there's so much to look forward to."
She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Including our honeymoon."
In the distance, they could hear a train whistle blow as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station.
Harry reached for Daphne's hand, and they turned towards the waiting carriages.
He glanced over his shoulder for one last glimpse of the castle.
He'd loved it dearly. But it belonged to the past.
It was time. Time to look to the future, which they would have together.