Chapter 35

THE POWER OF SEVEN

Harry looked up, recognizing the front face of Hogwarts castle, the stone staircase and balustrade leading up to the double doors that opened to the entrance hall beyond. The doors were closed now, as they normally were, but he saw with a chill of fear that a body lay in front of the steps.

He thrust the coin he held into his pocket and ran to the body, knowing before he even saw the face who it must be. It was Neville, staring sightlessly into the sky, a determined look on his face even in death. Harry put a hand on his chest, hoping to feel a heartbeat and knowing there would be none. Harry closed his eyes, his mind filled with pain and anguish for his fallen friend.

"Neville, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I should have known this was coming." Hot tears were forcing themselves from his eyes.

He knelt there, his hand upon Neville's unmoving chest, uncaring as one of the great wooden doors slowly swung open and two men stepped out on the landing and walked slowly down the steps to stand in front of him. One man, tall, deathly pale, and thin, looked at Harry through red, vertical-slitted eyes, a cruel smile playing upon his lipless mouth.

The other man, smaller than the first, moved cautiously, tentatively behind the first, his small eyes shifting furtively from one to the other, as if afraid of what he must now face.

"Finally," the first man said, his voice high, cold, and clear. "We meet again, Harry Potter. For the last time."

Harry continued to kneel beside the body of Neville Longbottom, tears spilling onto his cheeks, as Voldemort moved another step closer.

"So," Harry said at last, without opening his eyes. "You're back."

Voldemort chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "I was never gone, of course. That was only a feint, but an effective one, it seems – the Ministry seems much more content to tell everyone that I'm dead than to reveal it was wrong about me. Fudge was a witless old fool. Scrimgeour, at least, is a warrior, although he is a rock supporting a house of cards. It won't be long before the Ministry falls before me, as Hogwarts has.

"I confess, Harry, that I am a bit surprised to see you here alone," Voldemort continued softly. "I had expected a few of your friends as well – the red-haired pureblood boy, or even the Mudblood girl, rather than that deluded fool, followed by you and a number of your friends."

Harry finally opened his eyes, staring with furious anger at Voldemort. "Sorry to spoil your plans," he said shortly. "I didn't want anyone else along, in case you got any ideas about trying to kill anyone else."

"Hardly a need for that," Voldemort said coldly, indicating the school behind him with a gesture. "There's more than enough here already."

Harry stiffened. He'd forgotten, when he pulled the coin away from the others, that there were still a handful of students left in the school. "Most of them are Slytherins," he said. "Already on your side."

"Ah Harry, Harry," Voldemort shook his snakelike head slowly. "You should know by now that allegiance to the House of Slytherin does not automatically mean allegiance to me, any more than allegiance to any other House precludes it. Our friend Wormtail here, who was in Gryffindor, demonstrates that.

"I met one of my old teachers inside," Voldemort went on. "Professor Horace Slughorn, my dear old Potions Master, who was Head of Slytherin during my time here. Perhaps he's not a good example, however, since he was keen to join me once he realized that the school had fallen to me. I sent him on to join the others who waited too long to declare their loyalty to me."

Harry finally stood. "So you killed him, too," he said flatly.

Voldemort smiled, a horrifying, evil leer. "Of course."

"Where are your other followers?" Harry asked.

"They are securing the school," Voldemort said, casually waving a long-fingered hand. "I wanted this final conversation to be just between us."

Harry realized, in that moment, that the others must be trying to find a way to follow him as quickly as they could; between Hermione and Jon, he expected, they would not be delayed for long. With only Voldemort and Wormtail to contend with, Harry hoped he could count on Wormtail to hesitate just enough for Harry to gain an advantage. Peter Pettigrew owed him a life debt: that might be the only advantage he would have here.

His hand moved suddenly, unerringly to his robe pocket -- the wand inside slid free and he started to point it toward Voldemort. But as fast as he drew, the Dark Lord's wand was faster. "Crucio!" Voldemort shouted, and blinding, white-hot pain hit Harry, staggering him and throwing him to the ground; the wand flew from his fingers. The pain tore through Harry's arms and legs, coursed through his body like a living thing, making him blind and deaf to everything except red agony and his own anguished screams.

The Cruciatus Curse seemed to go on for days, weeks, years. Harry wondered how long it would be before the pain drove him mad, as it had Neville's parents. Finally, the pain ceased and Harry lay gasping, his entire body trembling with the memory, the taste of vomit in his mouth as he coughed weakly. His wand lay just beyond his grasp. Harry stretched slowly toward it, gritting his teeth against the pain of his still-protesting muscles, only to watch it snap in half as Voldemort flicked his wand once more.

"That was a foolish thing to do, Harry," Voldemort's voice came, mildly reproving even as it sounded amused, even pleasured, by what he'd just done. "You have no hope of winning this time. You are no match for me, not even with all of your little friends to back you up."

"That remains to be seen, Voldemort!" At the sound of that voice Harry's head turned automatically toward it. Even through his barely open eyes he could see who had spoken: Ron!

It was Ron and Hermione, accompanied by Ginny, Luna, Deirdre and Jon, all of whom had their wands out and pointed at Voldemort and Wormtail. "Back away from him!" Ron barked. "You're outnumbered! There's seven of us and only two of you!"

Surprisingly, Voldemort lowered his wand, but he did not back away. "Ah, welcome, friends of Harry Potter. I'm very glad you could join us. I confess, I was beginning to wonder whether you were coming to Harry's aid or not."

"You'd better believe we were!" Ron shouted. "Stupefy!" But the red bolt of energy from his wand never reached Voldemort. Not even raising his wand from his side, he flicked it slightly and the bolt was deflected away from the Dark Lord and into the ground, where it exploded uselessly.

Harry tried to get to his feet, but none of his limbs worked yet; he was still weak and trembling from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. He put out an arm toward them, trying to warn them away from him. Instead, however, they did the exact opposite – rushing forward, closer to him and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione knelt down beside him while the others kept their wands pointed at Voldemort, who watched them, coldly amused.

"Quite a touching scene," Voldemort said mockingly. "The fallen hero, surrounded by his friends, whom he will rally at the last moment to thwart the evil wizard and save the day. Almost the stuff of legends, wouldn't you say?"

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron said, ignoring Voldemort's words. "Can you stand?" Harry nodded; shaking. Despite Voldemort's taunts, it would be better if he could stand.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, horrified; she'd just seen the pieces of his wand next to him. "Your wand is broken!"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "Help me up."

But before anyone could move to help him, Voldemort said loudly, "Disarm them!"

Cries of "Expelliarmus!" filled the air and the group's wands flew from their grasps only to stop, seemingly suspended in midair around them.

Then five figures, surrounding them, each one holding a wan, shimmered into view as their Disillusionment Charms were released. Wormtail, whose wand was out as well, had caught the sixth one. Ron and Jon each took one of Harry's arms and pulled him to his feet.

Looking around, Harry saw the Death Eaters who had been hiding nearby, Disillusioned so he wouldn't see them: On Voldemort's right was Bellatrix Lestrange, dark haired with heavy lidded eyes, a cruel smile on her red lips. On her right were the elder Crabbe and Goyle, the fathers of Draco Malfoy's thugs, both grinning and chuckling maliciously.

Nearly behind them were Draco's parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, staring haughtily at them. To complete the circle, Wormtail moved away from Voldemort, smiling and wiggling the wand he held; it was Deirdre's, whom he'd been closest to when they were disarmed.

"Just that simple," Voldemort said softly, and there was derisive laughter from the Death Eaters, as if it should have been obvious he would not face seven wizards and witches with only one Death Eater on his side, as if Harry had been foolish to believe so.

Harry swayed on his feet, and Hermione moved toward him, stepping between him and Jon, to take his arm. The Death Eaters were still laughing. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"You shouldn't have come," he said harshly.

"Don't be thick, Harry," Hermione said, just as agitated.

"Yes, don't be so thick, Harry Potter," Bellatrix called, laughing. "Your little friends are here to die for you, as so many people in your life have already!"

"We had to come!" Hermione said, so low Harry could barely hear her. "Remember the final prophecy? The power of seven! There are seven of us here –"

"Silencio!" Voldemort cried, and the rest of Hermione's sentence died in her throat.

"You have some things that belong to me," Voldemort said to Harry. His voice was no longer soft; its tone was now that of pure menace, undiluted evil. "You know of what I speak."

"Yes, I know," Harry snapped. "Your Horcruxes –"

"Silencio!" Voldemort shouted again, and Harry's words stuck in his throat. But the damage had already been done.

"Horcruxes?" Both Lucius and Bellatrix said at the same time, sounding shocked.

"My – my Lord," Lucius continued haltingly. "Surely the boy means only, the one…"

"He wants you to believe that –!" Ron began, but Voldemort silenced him as well.

"My Lord," Bellatrix turned to her master, beseechingly, but Voldemort looked furious at having his secret revealed.

"Say nothing, Bellatrix," Voldemort said warningly. "We will not speak of these things now!" He turned to Harry. "Except, to have Potter tell us where he has hidden them." He removed the Silencing Charm and waited expectantly.

"I'm not going to tell you a damned thing," Harry said flatly.

"You will," Voldemort replied. "You have no choice."

"We always have a choice," Harry fired back.

Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. "Indeed we do, Harry Potter! However, your choices, since arriving here, haven't done you much good. You and your friends are disarmed, surrounded, and at my mercy.

"And I assure you, I have very little mercy to spare, even for my friends." Voldemort looked to his right, at Bellatrix. "Bella, you may do the –"

Harry, who'd been waiting for just such an opportunity, reached suddenly into his robe where he'd placed his real wand, separate from the Wand-Mate duplicate, which now lay broken on the ground beside him. Pointing it at Voldemort, he shouted "Expelliarmus!" and amazingly, the wand flew from Voldemort's hand! Unfortunately it did not fly in Harry's direction, as he'd intended.

"Potter, you little bastard!" Bellatrix screamed, pointing her wand at him. "Crucio!"

But as Bellatrix shouted the curse Harry shouted "Duck!" and the others with him dodged to one side or the other, leaving a clear path between Bellatrix and her sister, Narcissa. The curse hit and she screamed, a loud shrieking wail that almost seemed to echo across the grounds as she fell to the ground. Bellatrix halted the curse almost immediately but Narcissa had already collapsed.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix cried, then froze as Harry's Body-Bind Curse hit her.

"Stop them!" Voldemort shouted at the others, enraged at being disarmed. The other students were charging the nearest Death Eater, in almost every case the one who held their wand.

But Malfoy shouted, "Shields!" and each Death Eater formed a Shield Charm in front of them, causing each of the students to rebound back toward the center. Harry, who'd turned to try and cover the others' attempts to regain their wands, now spun round to face Voldemort again, but the tall, skeletal figure had plucked Bellatrix's wand from her fingers and Summoned his own wand back to him.

As Harry faced him, Voldemort shouted "Expelliarmus!" and Harry's wand flew high into the air, clattering onto the landing at the top of the staircase leading into the school.

"That," Voldemort said, his tone one of cold fury, "was foolish."

He canceled the Body-Bind Curse on Bellatrix and returned her wand; upon its return she immediately pointed it at Harry, murderous rage etched into her now-livid face.

"Not yet," Voldemort ordered. "I still require answers from the boy. You may have a few minutes when I am finished with him." Bellatrix lowered her wand.

"Thank you, my Lord," she said. "I look forward to those minutes with much…anticipation." Her smile was a promise of pain and retribution.

The Death Eaters' Shield Charms had pushed them, more or less, into a line in front of Voldemort; Jon and Deirdre were at its ends, Jon on the left and Deirdre on the right. Next to Jon and slightly behind him were Hermione and Ron. Closest to the center was Harry, with Ginny and Luna standing nearly behind him, to his right.

"Now," Voldemort said, pointing his wand directly at Harry's chest. "No more delays. Tell me what you've done with those boxes, Potter. Or –" the Dark Lord moved his wand back and forth, pointing first at one person and then another "— would you prefer to watch me kill one of your little friends, perhaps?"

Harry hesitated. He'd run out of options, except to tell Voldemort where the Horcruxes were and hope that he would have no better luck than Harry'd had trying to get in. "They're in the Room of Requirement."

"The Room of Requirement?" Voldemort said sharply. "How did you gain entrance to it?"

"The same way anyone does," Jon spoke up. "By needing to."

"Shut your trap," Goyle rasped, raising his wand threateningly.

"Let him speak," Voldemort commanded. "You were able to enter it?"

"Of c-course," Hermione said, speaking up in spite of her fear. "Anyone can get in if they n-need to."

"There was a rumor," Narcissa said, "long held among the Slytherin, that Salazar Slytherin created the room for purebloods only."

"Well, you can cross that rumor off as false," Ginny said boldly.

"Very well," Voldemort said to Harry. "Go get them."

Harry was silent for several moments before he asked, "Are you sure you trust me to go alone?"

"All of your friends will remain here," Voldemort said simply. "If you do not return in ten minutes one of them will be killed, and another one every minute thereafter, until you bring me those boxes. You will be back, Harry." He turned and pointed his wand at the stairs. Harry's wand shot off the landing and into his long-fingered hand. Voldemort handed it to Bellatrix, who looked at it appraisingly, then smiled at Harry as she stuck it into a pocket of her robe. "Now, go."

But Harry didn't move. He didn't know what to do. Every instinct was screaming for him to run, to find another wand somehow and come back to continue the fight. But he would not, he could not, abandon his friends. "I – I can't get into the Room of Requirement."

"Harry, Harry," Voldemort said softly, almost reproachfully. "Such lies you tell me."

"I'm not lying," Harry said immediately. "I can get into the Room of Requirement, but not the room that holds those boxes. I don't know why."

"Is there anyone that can get into the room?"

"I – I don't know."

"You're lying, Potter. Do you take me for some kind of half-wit?" Perversely, Harry thought he should have used the word nitwit. Voldemort pointed his wand at Jon. "Tell me quickly who it is, or one of your friends dies, now!"

Harry gritted his teeth. Voldemort was leaving him no choice.

"Don't tell him, Harry," Jon said, "Voldemort has already proven himself a coward and a liar."

"You dare insult our Lord?!" Bellatrix screamed, pointing her wand at Jon, but Voldemort stopped her with a gesture.

"Your young American friend seems quite sure of himself, Harry." Voldemort's expression was one of mildly piqued curiosity. "And his reputation precedes him – he's made an impression on several of my followers.

"You're supposed to have beaten Severus Snape in a duel," Voldemort said to Jon. "Do you think you would fare as well with me?"

"That depends," Jon said curtly. "On whether you have the courage to duel me or not."

The other Death Eaters bristled at the insult, but Voldemort merely chuckled. "Such arrogance in one so young. It's quite refreshing, actually. Very well! Crabbe, return our young friend here his wand."

Crabbe pulled Jon's wand from his belt and tossed it carelessly into the air. It spun and twisted in mid-flight, curving into Jon's grasp, where he held it before him, pointing in Voldemort's direction.

"The mark of a good duelist," Voldemort continued, "is his ability to anticipate and deflect his enemy's curses. Crucio!"

At the sudden attack Jon collapsed onto the ground, writhing in agony; Hermione and Luna screamed while Ginny looked away. Deirdre looked on, anguished, while Harry and Ron watched tensely as Jon thrashed about. After a dozen seconds Voldemort lowered his wand and Jon's form slumped, inert.

"It is readily apparent," Voldemort said contemptuously, "you have no idea whom it is you are dealing with."

"You monster!" Hermione screamed. "You've killed him!"

Ron and Harry turned toward Jon's fallen form to help him, but at a wave of Voldemort's wand both of their legs became immobile.

"No need to be in such a hurry, Harry," Voldemort sneered. "The Mudblood is wrong, I haven't killed him – yet. Let us see how long it takes him to revive, then we'll have done and move on to the next victim of your foolishness."

"You may find that harder to accomplish than you think," Jon said suddenly, standing more quickly than anyone Harry had ever known to after suffering the Cruciatus Curse. There was real anger in his voice as he said, "You don't know whom you're dealing with either, it seems. Maybe you are a half-wit."

At Jon's mention of the word, everything suddenly fell into place in Harry's brain. Nitwit! It was the word Dumbledore had given him to unlock the compartment behind his portrait. It was also one of the first words Harry had ever heard the Hogwarts professor speak, one of the "few words" he'd wanted to say at the start-of-term banquet. What were the other words Dumbledore had said? Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! What if one of those words would unlock the Room of Requirement?

Only for a moment did a look of shocked surprise show through the mask of Voldemort's serpent-like features. Then it was gone, replaced by cold appraisal. "Interesting. Your recovery is quite remarkable." Voldemort pointed his wand at Jon again, who held up his own wand as well. "Shall we see how well you fare against another so-called 'Unforgivable' Curse?"

"Bring it on, if you want," Jon said challengingly.

"No!" the others shouted, and Ginny added, "Jon, the Killing Curse can't be blocked!"

"So you've been told," Jon said, his eyes never leaving Voldemort's.

"Then this should prove instructive," Voldemort snarled. His eyes seemed to flash red as he shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Jon held his wand steady in front of him, but the jet of green light flashed, not at him, but to his right, where it struck Hermione. Her mouth formed an O of pure surprise and she seemed to hang, suspended for a moment in time, before beginning to fall. There was a crack as the Leg-Locker Curse on Ron was broken and he caught and lowered her body to the ground. Hermione Granger was dead.