Harry Potter is Dead
Chapter 17 | Armistice
Hermione's breathing was quick and heavy; she was running flat-out, her footsteps echoing off the dark walls, all pretense of secrecy abandoned. She could hear the others running as well, out of sight but not out of earshot, each as desperate by now as she was. The four climbed higher and higher, searching the entirety of the fifth and sixth floors. They raced down the corridors of the seventh now, but still there was no sign of life save for the flashes and bangs that echoed up from below.
He's here. He's in the next room. Just another flight of stairs. One more floor, one more to go . . . .
Hermione repeated similar things under her breath as she sped down the halls. It was the only way she could keep herself going; for her hope was slowly, surely ebbing away. She was sure he was higher; that Lord Voldemort, lover of grandeur and power, would not chose some derelict classroom for the completion of his master plan. And yet, every room left unchecked was another nagging doubt in the back of Hermione's head: what if she passed him by without even realizing she had done so? Hermione burst into a barren office, held her wand aloft, and in the next moment she was flying down the corridor again. She must not permit herself to think like that. She focused on her mantra; trying desperately to convince herself it was true.
Hermione's own thoughts drowned out the sound of approaching footsteps until they were too close for either of them to stop. Ginny came speeding around the bend, skidding on the stone floor and nearly toppling over Hermione in her haste.
"Ginny - "
"Hermione - sorry - "
"It's all right," Hermione gasped, helping Ginny off the floor.
"Have you gone that way already?" asked Ginny. She pointed at the way Hermione had come.
"Yes. We can go here, though, I don't think Luna's checked those rooms." Hermione looked down the third passageway, which was wider, and from whence the two corridors they had been following had branched off.
"Together, then?" Ginny asked.
Hermione nodded. They set off at a run.
"Is Harry here?" Hermione said, holding her wand aloft. In the gloom, she could not see any glint of gold in Ginny's hands.
"No," she shook her head, "No, he's - look here, let's check this one -"
She had spotted a door, half concealed by a large tapestry that was hanging slightly askew. Ginny attempted to force her way in, only to find the door locked. Immediately Hermione's heat began to pound in her chest. Was this it? Could they have found him?
"Alohomora!" Hermione said shakily; the door flung open to reveal a foot of space and several dusty brooms.
"Next one, then," said Ginny, "Come on - this way."
They turned again and ran. Hermione could still feel a quick thud beneath her rib cage; but Ginny, at her side, showed no trace of fear.
"Ginny," Hermione said as they reached the next door. "You seem . . . very calm."
Ginny looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?'
Hermione flushed. "Every time we open a door I just about give myself a heart attack thinking that You-Know-Who might be right on the other side," she said, "but you don't look like you're afraid, well, at all. It's a bit - Alohomora - odd, considering . . ."
But Hermione could not find the breath to finish her sentence; the words seemed to have stuck in her throat. The door swung open with a click to reveal an small room empty save for a lichen-spotted mirror and an overturned cauldron. Hermione allowed herself to sigh with relief. They waved their wands once, so that for an instant the light illuminated all of the dark corners, and then left, leaving the door hanging open behind them.
"Considering what?" Ginny seemed to be trying rather hard to sound indifferent; but even in the darkness Hermione could see her staring fixedly at the ground.
"Well, I heard you before. I think you were talking to Harry, and your voice carried. You sounded distressed."
Ginny looked up at Hermione. "I was," she said, "but not any more."
"Do you know why?"
"Not really." Ginny shook her head. "Everything's so . . . it's just . . . different, I guess. I told Harry that I didn't need him any more - "
Hermione stopped in the middle of unlocking a door and whirled around. "You did?" she cried ecstatically, and wrapped her arms around Ginny without hesitation. "Ginny, that's fantastic!"
"Thanks, Hermione . . . Hermione, we should probably keep going . . . "
"Yes, of course . . . " There were tears in Hermione's eyes. "Of course, I don't know why I . . . " she distracted herself with opening the door and checking the empty room inside, glad for a chance to hide her face.
"So . . . I told Harry that I didn't need him any more," Ginny continued, once they were running again, "and it was like . . . everything changed. I can't explain it. There's no mist, I think, or something. Maybe I'm just . . . at peace."
"Do you think that means you're not sick any more?"
"I don't know what it means."
"Well, I think learning to live without Harry is going to do nothing but good things for you. I know it must have been hard for you but I'm so glad you've taken this step."
Ginny's smile was more like a grimace.
"Have you - have you already done it?" Hermione said in a kinder tone. "You know, gotten rid of the stone?"
To answer, Ginny held up the golden, glittering ring. "No. I won't have to until after the battle. I think we'll need his help. Like I said, he's off searching now."
Hermione nodded in agreement. They fell silent after that, their footsteps swallowed by the great black abyss. Somehow, it seemed lighter now that Hermione knew Harry was somewhere within it, trying just as hard as they were to find Voldemort.
But try as they might, the search continued to yield no results even as time wore on. The corridors they searched soon bled into one; a dizzying maze that seemed to trap them forever in some horrible nightmare. No matter how many rooms they checked, no matter how many steps they ran, they never seemed to be moving anywhere. They ran and ran, covering what must have been the entire seventh floor, until suddenly Ron and Luna appeared out of the darkness, breathing heavily and also unlucky.
"We haven't . . . he's not . . . " Ron huffed, clutching a stitch in his side.
"Same here." Hermione panted.
"It's no good." said Ginny. "We haven't got time- "
She broke off suddenly, staring into the distance.
"Ginny?" Ron frowned. "What are you - ?"
"Harry!" Ginny cried. She sounded suddenly horrified.
"What's wrong?" Luna asked.
But Ginny was beyond words. Hermione followed her line of sight as her eyes moved; as Harry must have approached.
"Is something wrong, Ginny?" Luna repeated, but still Ginny seemed too horrified to speak.
"Ginny, let me see." Hermione said. "Let me see."
She did not wait for a reply, but took Ginny's hand in her own, so that they were intertwined over the ring. At once a ghostly shadow appeared before her . . .
"Oh, god." Hermione whispered.
This was not the Harry she remembered; this was not even the Harry that appeared in the Resurrection Stone. This pale imitation looked sick and tortured, with hollowed cheeks and dull, staring eyes. The skeletal figure was so translucent that it was easy to loose him against the darkness. When Harry opened his mouth, his voice was barely a whisper. His whole being seemed to be fading away.
"I've . . . found . . . him . . . "
"Where?" said Hermione urgently. She wanted desperately to know if Harry was all right; to ask, at least, if there was anything she could do to help him. But she bit those replies back. Priorities, she reminded herself, and never did she hate herself more for remembering them.
"Higher . . . "
"The only thing higher than us are the towers." said Hermione, thinking aloud. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, North, Astronomy . . . Can't be one of the common rooms, could it, he can't get into those . . . can he?"
She looked pleadingly at Harry, but his lips were already fumbling with speech.
"Under . . . the stars . . . "
"Under the stars? Harry, the Astronomy tower?"
Slowly, wincing as thought the tiny movement caused him pain, Harry nodded.
"Let's go." She told the others. "Harry - " she said, trying not to think about the next time she might see him, "thank you."
Ron and Luna took off down the corridor towards the Astronomy tower immediately. Hermione made to follow them without hesitation, but Ginny's hand held fast to her own, unmoving. A few paces ahead, Ron and Luna stopped and turned.
"Harry . . . " she whispered sadly, her face entirely broken.
A few weeks ago Hermione would have pitied her. She would have been gentle. But now she whirled around and grasped Ginny by the shoulders, startling the girl's eyes away from Harry.
"Ginny, pull yourself together! Feeling sorry for him or for yourself isn't going to do anything for either of you! We can save Harry! We can save him if we go NOW!"
The final word reverberated in the inky black of the silent corridor, echoing down the hall, filling the space with noise. At its sound Ginny broke suddenly into a run, sweeping right through Harry as she went. Hermione looked over her shoulder; Harry he raised one hand in farewell. Then the Resurrection Stone slipped through hers and Ginny's intertwined fingers, and his frail form burst into mist. The glittering ring clattered to the floor before it was swallowed up by darkness.
They ran flat-out, so fast that doors and turns in the corridors seemed to come whizzing at them from the black, only to pass and be swallowed up again an instant later. The search before was nothing; their pace then seemed like a pleasant stroll compared to how quickly they moved now. And yet it was not nearly fast enough, thought Hermione. Harry's gaunt, tortured face seemed burned into her brain. He seemed only minutes from nonexistence. If they could not reach Voldemort in time . . .
"Faster!" Hermione said aloud, and she was so distressed that what she had intended to mutter to herself came out an echoing yell. She felt Ginny's grip on her hand tighten, a pressure which seemed to communicate that all of Hermione's fears were Ginny's as well.
The barreled through the exit of a corridor and found themselves suddenly thrust into a wide, open space; they had reached the Grand Staircase, and all around them the portraits erupted in cheers, shouting encouragement and following alongside them as best they could through their frames. Sir Cadogan on his fat little pony galloped at full speed through several portraits, nearly trampling many of their occupants and forcing a group of terrified warlocks to dive aside just in time.
"Drive onward, brave comrades!" He shouted as they flew past, "Oust the rogues and scoundrels who have befouled our great keep, and purge it of their villainy! Take back that which is ours! Strike swiftly and true!"
He followed them as far as he could; across the length of the Great Staircase and into the opposite corridor, until the portraits lining the walls became increasingly sparse and then stopped altogether, and a spiral staircase loomed suddenly in front of them. They skidded to a halt at its base. The sound of clattering hooves faded slowly away, and they were left in silence once more.
"This is it." said Ron, stopping short.
"Then we can't waste any more time." Hermione replied. And although she was absolutely terrified of what she would find, she extinguished the light of her wand, took a firmer grasp on Ginny's hand, and started her ascent to the top of the tower.
With no wandlight to guide them, the darkness was complete. Steps seemed to melt into the gloom, presenting themselves only when Hermione approached. They dared not run here, for fear that Voldemort would hear them coming, but they moved as quickly as the heavy silence would allow. Painfully slowly, it seemed to Hermione, they spiraled ever upwards.
Then Ginny let out a whimper.
Not daring to speak, Hermione turned immediately towards her and gave an inquisitive look, pressing her finger to her lips. Ginny's pale face seemed to glow in the darkness. Her head turned this way and that, brows furrowed and her mouth slightly open in confusion. When Ginny made no effort to explain to Hermione what was going on, Hermione gave Ginny's hand a little tug and pulled her further along.
"I thought I saw something," Ginny managed, in the tiniest whisper. Hermione looked back at her.
"What?"
"It wasn't . . . at least I think it wasn't . . . never mind."
"Just . . . keep quiet. We're near the top."
But even as Ginny said it, Hermione thought she saw something pale flash across the edge of her vision. She turned her head instinctively to follow it, heart pounding in her chest, but nothing was there. Frowning, she pulled Ginny along faster still, gripping her wand very tightly in her hand. But the whips of white did not stop. She looked from side to side, trying to catch these strange shadows in her line of sight, but each time she whirled around for a closer look, they were gone.
"Whispers," breathed Ginny, "Can you hear them, too?"
Indeed, the heavy silence was no longer a silence. It was like the buzzing of a Muffliato charm; Hermione did not notice it at first, but slowly the whispers built up until quite suddenly she realized there were dozens of voices filling the staircase. She could distinguish no words, but knew that in some way they were connected to these pale flashes, these ghosts, for what else could they be?
"They're . . . ghosts, aren't they?" Hermione said, repeating her thoughts; for Ron and Luna must be seeing them too, dancing about in the black, "They must be ghosts."
"Not ghosts," Luna whispered back. "Souls."
Luna, unlike Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, did not seem at all bothered by the appearance of these souls, as she called them. Her expression, if anything, seemed somewhere between curiosity and enthrallment.
"You think they're because of You-Know-Who's potion?" asked Ron, whose freckles stood out against his chalky face.
"They must be, if they've broken through the veil." said Luna. Hermione expected her perhaps to reach out and touch one of them, but Luna stepped carefully around each soul, giving them a wide berth in which to float past. "They must be right on the edge. Nearly gone."
"They're so sad." said Ginny, a tiny note of panic in her voice. "I can hear them crying . . . "
Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand. "Shh. Don't look at them. We have to keep going . . . stay quiet . . . "
The four of them drifted into an uneasy silence, broken only by the whispers of those poor condemned souls who seemed to be ebbing away before their very eyes. It's disgusting, Hermione thought, as a distinctly child-shaped white wisp floated past as if caught in a terrible current. All these people, sacrificed for one wizard.
And quite suddenly a wave of rage swept over Hermione like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt her face burn with the force of her anger, her hatred, all directed completely at that man who in his selfishness and malice had brought so much suffering into the world. Hermione found herself drawing on this new fuel to speed her ascent of the tower, so that Ginny and Ron and Luna were buffeted along in her wake, because there was nothing and nobody that could possibly stand in her way now.
Then all at once the stairs flattened out into the upper floor of the Astronomy Tower. The four stopped suddenly, for dark shapes blocked their path. After a moment's hesitation, Luna lit her wand and covered it with her hand, so that a dim reddish light fell upon the scene. Immediately Hermione wished she had not done this.
"Merlin's beard," said Ron. "That's sick."
The bodies of Hogwarts students filled this room.
But perhaps bodies was not quite the right word. Alive though they were, Hermione realized after a moment, the students also bore the unmistakable signs of having been subjected to the Dementor's kiss. They lay on the ground, piled carelessly on top of one another, their heads lolling and their movements feeble and heartless. There was no light behind their eyes, which stared straight ahead, reflecting back only the darkness that filled the room.
"Don't look at them," Luna said, more to Ginny than to anyone else, who had backed against the wall with a horror-stricken expression on her face. "There's nothing we can do for them now, just don't look. Think how to get through."
For a moment Hermione did not know what on earth Luna was talking about; but then, with great difficulty, Hermione tore her eyes away from the bodies on the floor. They fell apon short staircase that led to the tallest part of the tower, which overlooked the grounds and sky. A barrier had been conjured over the opening to the staircase, which lit the room with a fain green glow.
Knowing better than to pass through, Hermione did the first thing that came to mind. "Reducto!" she whispered. The curse shot from her wand, but instead of blasting the barrier to pieces as was intended or even rebounding, the spell hit the green wall, which bent inwards on itself and absorbed the spell altogether, bouncing immediately back to its original position.
Disheartened, Hermione tried again, but to the same effect. Even when she, Ron, Ginny, and Luna combined their efforts, the barrier folded in only to snap right back like an elastic band.
"No!" cried Ginny in frustration. "No - no - no - NO!" She punctuated each no with a spell; one by one they hit the barrier and were absorbed as if they had never been.
"Ginny, shh - it's all right, we'll figure out another way in - just be quiet or he'll hear - "
But even as she said it Hermione crossed out their options in her head. Blasting through the barrier would not yield any results. Apparition was impossible within the grounds. They had abandoned their brooms by the smashed window on the fifth floor, and had no time at all to retrieve them. A well-placed Blasting Curse could blow a hole in the ceiling . . . but this carried the risk of bringing the whole tower down on top of them, let alone alerting Voldemort to their presence.
Hermione looked at Ron, desperate for something, anything; but his face held no answers, only frustration. He was frowning, teeth gritted, staring so fixedly at the barrier that he appeared to be attempting to make it shatter with his mind alone.
Her eyes drifted past Ron to Luna, wondering if her usual out-of-the-box thinking could somehow get them through. Luna, however did not in fact appear to be troubled by their predicament at all. Her expression was the usual serene stare, her eyes still following the little souls that flitted about the room . . . there were very many of them, Hermione suddenly realized - much more than there had been on the staircase. Their dull whispers filled the crowded space with an unsettling echo.
"Look at them all," Luna said dreamily. "Can you tell what they're saying?"
Hermione could not, nor did she care; quickly losing patience, she turned and said rather hotly, "Luna, I really don't think it matters - "
"They're sorry." Ginny interrupted quietly. "They want to help."
"Is that what they're doing?" asked Luna. "How, then?"
"Can we please just focus on getting through that barrier?" Hermione cried, not believing what she was hearing. "They're ghosts or souls or - whatever they might be, they can't help us!"
"Just hang on a second, Hermione . . . " said Ron slowly. He too was squinting at the souls that were now swirling all around them, forming a pearly fog. At once Hermione rounded on him.
"Do any of you even realize - "
"Hermione, just turn around!"
She obliged him begrudgingly, with a frown and a whirl of bushy brown hair; but her annoyance vanished a moment later.
The souls seemed to be pouring in from all directions, through the walls and ceiling and floor. They floated past the tower's four living occupants with a sad sort of grace, buffeted this way and that by a nonexistent wind. Slowly, surely, they made their way towards the barrier at the foot of the stairs.
"What are they . . . ?" Hermione could not finish her thought, and it garnered no response from the other three, who stared just as intently at the dancing, whispering shapes all around them.
The souls made their way slowly but surely towards the barrier at the far end of the room. Hermione expected them to pass through like they did the stone walls of the tower, but they could not; instead, as each soul pressed itself against the barrier, it gave a little shudder, its glassy surface rippling strangely, and the soul faded away into a wisp of smoke. They crowded around the barrier, pushing against it with all the force their insubstantial bodies could give. With each touch dozens of souls vanished, yet more and more still poured in.
"They're dying." Ginny said, horrified. She reached out to touch one of the souls as it passed, but her gentle fingers slipped easily through its indistinct form.
"They're already dead." said Luna. "This is . . . their last stand . . . one last fight before You-Know-Who uses them. They're helping us, Ginny - look."
And sure enough Hermione could see the barrier growing slowly more translucent, its surface no longer smooth, but wavering incessantly like stormy water. The room was filled now with souls, faint individually but so strong in numbers that they seemed to catch the moonlight, filling the room with a silvery light that outshone the glow of the barrier. Before Hermione's very eyes the barrier bent inwards, shuddering under great strain, and though the whispers of the souls seemed loud and agitated in her ears, they pushed on.
Then, all at once, as the whispering reached a pitch like the roar of the ocean, there was a great metallic clang and the barrier shattered into a thousand miniscule pieces. Hermione lifted her arms instinctively to protect herself, wand momentarily forgotten; the shards flew in every direction, cutting at her skin and clothing like glass. The souls were extinguished like smoke and flame as the pieces touched them, leaving no trace of their presence behind. Quite suddenly the room was dark and silent again. Then the air was rent by a scream of rage - Voldemort had heard them.
Without pausing to think, without giving herself time to doubt or to feel afraid, Hermione reached out for Ron's hand and charged up the stairs. She sent a dozen spells flying as soon as she could see stars above, hardly registering where her target might be; but they were all stopped immediately, sent whizzing back at her so quickly that Hermione barely had time to protect herself.
Behind the momentary safety of her Shield Charm, Hermione had a split second to take in her surroundings, her eyes moving across the tower and taking in details as if in slow motion. The cauldron stood beside the parapet, the glow of the fire beneath it nothing compared to the dazzling white light that shone from the surface of the potion. And next to the cauldron, appearing more like a skeleton than ever in the harsh white light, stood Voldemort. His red eyes were wide with anger; his wand arm was raised over his head in preparation for attack. He stood at the opposite end of the tower, and in the twenty or so feet that separated them, were the remaining students. Not nearly enough remained here or in the room below to match the amount that had vanished from the Great Hall . . . and then Hermione imagined the students being levitated over the edge of the tower, their usefulness outlived . . .
The horror of it all made Hermione's blood boil. She saw red for a moment, but paid for it dearly in the next second - the world jumped suddenly back to normal speed again, and had it not been for Ron's quick spellwork, Voldemort's attack would have caught her unawares.
The force of Voldemort's spell shattered Ron's Shield Charm in one hit. It ricocheted off of the surface and set fire to its jagged pieces, which Luna extinguished with a cry of, "Aguamenti!" The smoke that rose from the flames swirled unnaturally and became a dense black cloud that seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the air; Hermione gasped but could not draw breath, and barely managed a nonverbal charm that scattered the noxious cloud in a gust of wind. But the cloud re-formed into a dark, batlike shape which swooped in apon them only to be beaten back by a barrage of curses. The bat spun in the air and became a hail of silver knives, which soared like speeding bullets and sunk several inches into their Shield Charms.
Hermione found herself with hardly an opening even to counterattack; so strong was the force of Voldemort's enchantments. It seemed like a miracle for any of them even to have avoided injury so far, let alone landed a blow on their opponent - but then a silver spell shot from Voldemort's wand and rammed through Luna's Shield Charm. Hermione turned in horror as Luna dove to the side, but she was too late. The spell clipped her side and seemed to transfer all of its momentum to her, so that she spun in midair and was thrown backwards against the wall, just inches from the edge of the tower.
"NO!" Ginny cried, and she ran forward, managing to hoist Luna up and out of the way just in time. Voldemort's Killing Curse left a scorch mark in the ground where Luna had been an instant before. Hermione ran forward to give them cover while Ginny helped Luna get back on her feet. She threw a volley of hexes at Voldemort, which burst from her wand in a near unbroken stream; but he parried these easily and sent his own spells back at her, so that she was forced closer to Ron. Hermione found herself grasping his hand tightly in her own as streaks of light whizzed past. Several hit the wall behind them, their force blasting craters in the stone. The air filled quickly with dust, which made it hard to see even a few feet away. Spells loomed suddenly out of the cloud, dangerously close.
"Hermione - " Ron gasped, his face covered with sweat and dirt, but Hermione never heard what he was going to say; a jet of orange light caught him squarely in the chest and he was blasted backwards against the wall. Before he had even time to groan, the light moved in a strange way for a spell, twisting like a snake; it sprung into a fiery rope, which bound him tightly. Ron yelled with pain - his clothing had caught fire.
"RON!" Hermione shouted, abandoning all pretense and running to his side."Aguamenti! Aguamenti! AGUAMENTI!" But the spell seemed to have little effect on the cursed flames that licked Ron's body; they hissed and smoked but hardly diminished. A spell shot past her ear but Hermione took no mind. Dirty tear tracks stained her face. She could not believe it. She was watching Ron die before her very eyes. "Ron, no - please - Aguamenti!"
But again her spell had no effect; and, to her horror, Hermione heard Voldemort's high, cold, cruel laugh sound behind her. Hermione dropped to Ron's side, sobbing harder than ever and coughing from the stone dust, practically flooding him with water that did next to nothing. She was desperate, hysterical; she must save him -
"Your friends are dead, Mudblood . . . you are the only one left . . . "
"NO!" she screamed, for even if Luna and Ginny were obscured by the dust, Ron was still alive next to her . . . still yelling in pain at her feet. The flames seemed to be moving deathly slow, the ropes constricting tighter and tighter, causing him the maximum amount of torture before - but she must not permit that thought to form in her head - "AGUAMENTI!"
"You can not save them; nor can you save yourself . . . "
"NO! RON! DIFFINDO!"
Hermione did not know what made her say it, or how she possibly could have thought that a Severing Charm would help her at this moment. Yet amazingly, to her utter shock and relief, the flaming ropes that bound Ron were cut clean through, and he pushed them off in one swift movement.
"When my potion is ready, I will be unstoppable . . . "
"Ron! Oh, God, Ron - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you're all right - !"
Words seemed to be beyond him at this point, however. Angry burns covered his body, and a shallow gash ran from his chest to his navel where Hermione's Severing Charm had cut him. He gripped Hermione's free arm with both of his own, his fingers shaking, his eyes dark and full of fear.
". . . but you will not live to see it."
"E - Episkey!" Hermione's voice shook; the cut began to heal over, but there was nothing she could do for the burns, she did not know what spell -
It was as if a speeding train had rammed into the side of her head. Hermione felt the blow, felt herself falling; but she was tumbling much too far, she could not see where she was . . . she somersaulted, crashing many times into a hard, stony something . . .
Hermione became vaguely aware that she was curled in a ball on a cold, uncomfortable surface. There was something hot and sticky dripping from the side of her head, but if it hurt, she could not feel it. Everything was moving; she felt as if the stone beneath her were the deck of a ship. Slowly, painfully, she turned over and vomited. Her right arm would not support her weight. It was very dark.
Flashes of light from a narrow staircase . . . a scream of pain . . . a cruel laugh . . . the battle. She must get back, she must help the others fight . . . but it was so hard to move. She wanted nothing more than to remain here, on this cold stone floor, and succumb to the pain; but if Ron died she would never forgive herself.
A gasp of pain escaped Hermione's lips as she pushed herself upwards. Her right arm felt as if a thousand needles had been stuck into it; blood gushed from a jagged wound on the side of her head. Nevertheless, she shook it to clear her thoughts, trying very hard to focus her vision. The world stopped spinning very slowly, and Hermione realized where she was. She had been knocked down the flight of stairs separating the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower from its highest room. Another scream sounded from above her, and Hermione snapped into a run, her right arm hanging limp at her side and her wand held tightly in her left.
Her three friends could not spare a greeting when Hermione joined them again. Luna was moving with a limp and Ginny had acquired several gashes on her arms and face. They stood protectively in front of Ron, who lay propped up against the tower wall, unable to stand but still casting spells with his blistered wand arm. Each was fighting valiantly, but even their best efforts could not hold Voldemort back. They lost ground all the while, missing Killing Curses by mere inches.
Hermione sent a dozen different spells soaring at Voldemort as she joined ranks with Luna and Ginny, but she could tell even as she sent them that they were nowhere near as well-cast as they should have been. With her wand arm broken, her spellwork suffered - and this was even without considering the stabbing pain in her arm and head, which made it so difficult to focus.
But something was amiss. She was still able to inflict minor blows on her opponent's defenses. Hermione's abilities had diminished considerably, and against an opponent such as Voldemort, this should have presented much more of a problem than it did.
Then, quite suddenly, Hermione realized what was going on. Voldemort had slowed as well. The delay was by no means enough to give them the upper hand, but it was there nonetheless. She regarded him carefully, watching his face . . . there. As he sent a spell whizzing at Luna, his eyes flicked for a millisecond towards the bubbling cauldron.
But Hermione had seen enough spells glance off the cauldron's protective charms to know that it was very well protected. So why was Voldemort suddenly worrying? Why did seem to be making sure that there was ample distance between himself and the cauldron? When my potion is ready, he had said before. Could this mean that soon -
A jet of green light whizzed past and struck the stone wall inches from where Ron lay, and Hermione jerked herself back to attention. Hermione knew that a potion as complex as this one was bound to be temperamental, and could easily overcook - though, admittedly, she could not be sure. The best they could do at the moment was try and hold Voldemort back for as long as overcooking it would take. At the very least they would make it difficult for him to get to it once it was ready for consumption; he would have to break through all of his own protective enchantments in order to even reach it.
But at the same time, Hermione thought miserably, their chances of holding up that long were slim indeed.
A Reductor Curse hit the ground at her feet, burning her skin red and raw, and she yelled with pain. Luna did not seem to be able to put much weight on her left leg; her reaction times were becoming slower and slower, her teeth gritted with concentration. Ginny fought with a snarl though another foul curse caught her arm, turning the skin bruised and purple within seconds. Behind them Ron's ragged breathing could be heard even over the spellfire. His curses rarely made it to his target; it seemed to cause him agony even to lift his arm.
"Hermione," he grunted, "I don't know if we can - " he gripped his chest in pain, " - I don't know if we can do this much longer - "
"Keep going!" shouted Luna. "He's got no Horcruxes! We can - ARGH!"
"Luna!"
Blood spurted from the front of Luna's robes, following the vertical slash of Voldemort's wand. Her eyes, for the first time that night, filled perceptibly with fear; then she stumbled backwards and fell, hands dabbing weakly at her chest.
"Cover me, Ginny!"
Hermione knew that every minute Luna was allowed to bleed was a minute closer to death. And yet Ginny could never hold out on her own; they were being forced back, unable to defend themselves or to aide their friends - in desperation Hermione attempted a Blasting Curse with her left arm - but almost immediately she knew that something was horribly wrong -
Instead of shooting at Voldemort, the explosion burst directly at the tip of Hermione's wand, far more powerful than any Blasting Curse she had ever cast and much too close for comfort. She had one second to discard her weapon before she was thrown against the tower wall, where she slid down next to Ron. Stars burst in front of her eyes; the world seemed to have fallen eerily silent. Her fingers, when she held them up to see, were coated with blood.
Hermione could just barely make out the blurred figure of Voldemort hanging dangerously over the edge of the parapet . . . Ginny was writhing on the ground, reaching desperately for her wand . . . Luna jerked and twitched, alive but losing blood . . . Ron was shouting something at her, but his words were distorted, as if they were reaching her ears from the end of a long tunnel . . .
" . . . while there's still . . . go now, Hermione. . . stop him from . . . "
"What?" Hermione murmured.
"Go, Hermione!" she winced at the loudness, "You've got to . . . like it's finished cooking or something . . . before he gets up . . . "
Cooking? Hermione's brain seemed slow and sluggish, unable to process what was happening at full speed. What on earth . . .
Trapped in a daze, Hermione looked towards Voldemort. But her eyes did not stop as he gritted his teeth and pulled himself into a standing position; they passed him over and fell upon the bubbling cauldron. As she watched, its contents churned and swirled faster and faster until suddenly its surface suddenly shone a deep crimson, like liquid rubies, staining every surface it touched with bloody red light.
It took a second of ringing silence for the puzzle pieces to fall into place.
Voldemort was moving slowly, injured, towards the cauldron, waving his wand to remove the enchantments.
If he reached that cauldron, everything would be lost.
"NO!" Hermione shrieked.
She dove for her wand, but her body screamed in protest; she could not move without every inch of her erupting in pain - Voldemort could see her moving, struggling, and he spoke faster - the sounds were still distorted and eerie, she could not tell what he was saying - the barrier around the cauldron appeared to have been set on fire, invisible as it was, the flames seeming to float suspended in the air - Hermione's fingers closed around her wand - the flames had burned away the barrier almost completely - Hermione raised her arm with her last ounce of strength and shouted hoarsely, ripping her throat raw - "EXPELLIARMUS!" - Voldemort's wand flew from his hand but it was too late; he was reaching for the potion with triumph in his eyes -
And then, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ginny move.
Abandoning her wand where it lay out of reach, Ginny leapt up and ran at Voldemort, her hair catching the bloody light as it flew behind her. As she did so she let loose from her lips the most terrible sound Hermione had ever heard in her life. Her scream rent the air, and the sound seemed to sap the air of all its warmth. It spoke of everything, all of Ginny's pent-up frustration and pain and worry that had accumulated over the past year. The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood up. She had never heard a more mournful sound.
And suddenly Hermione knew what she was going to do a split second before it happened.
"GINNY, NO!"
But the fire in Ginny's eyes did not dim, and the determination with which she set down each step did not diminish. She dove at Voldemort as his hand touched the rim of the cauldron, and together they tipped over the edge of the parapet and fell out of sight.
There were a few moments of ringing silence during which no one, not Hermione nor Ron nor any of the fighters on the grounds below, dared to breathe.
Two heavy thuds echoed in the night.
Hello! I just wanted to say here that the process of completing this chapter was both very very long and very very difficult. I must've written and rewritten the battle a thousand times. But because of all the hard work that went into this - probably the most important chapter in this entire fic - I am incredibly proud of it. It's been fun and challenging working this story up to its climax, and I'm extremely happy that it's turned out the way it has. Also, please don't kill me for the ending - I know it's harsh, but it had to be done.
