Chapter 24

Harry felt strange having a secret, and it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. He began to notice the ugly twist people's features took when they talked about Voldemort. Yes, he was an evil tyrant, but he was also so absurd, couldn't they see that?

Everything seemed absurd, he realized, looking around the Burrow at his friends. It was absurd that they wanted Voldemort dead but were also such nice people. It was absurd, absurdly tragic, that a place like Azkaban existed, while they sat here eating cake. It was absurd that he was the Chosen One, the person everyone was banking on to Save the World with one more act of heroic violence (absurd that violence was ever heroic)…and here he was, secretly planning on being nice to the maniac instead. But the pinnacle of absurdity was that a stranger had come out of the sky and shifted Harry's entire world in a matter of days.

He caught himself staring at the Doctor, trying to imagine this present without him, and found it impossible to will himself back into a mindset where he dutifully accepted his destiny just because he couldn't see any other choice. There are always other choices, he thought.

It was the best birthday he'd ever had, even though he couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or cry half the time. The twins were in top comedic form. Hermione and Ron were getting along. Even Fleur was tolerable. Ginny looked especially beautiful, and after everyone else had gone to bed she and Harry snogged for hours in the larder, until their lips were pleasantly sore. Loving her was so easy, and he knew she loved him, had always loved him. Those were the last words he thought as he drifted off to sleep, and he repeated them over and over: you are loved.

The next day, Professor McGonagall arrived at Hogwarts to take over the position of Headmaster and make arrangements for Dumbledore's fake death announcement and fake funeral. Harry half-wondered if the flowers would be fake, too, and the marble slab just a prop made of polystyrene foam.

He paced the halls, restless now that all he had to do was wait. He watched Amy and Rory practicing remedial magic with borrowed wands, but that got boring very quickly. He tried to hurt about Sirius' death for a while, and make himself ashamed that he hadn't thought about him much lately, but that quickly grew tiresome as well. It wasn't that he didn't feel the loss, but if he were possibly about to rewrite time and prevent his godfather's death, what was the point of mourning? He walked in on Hermione and Ron kissing on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. They were flustered, but Harry couldn't be bothered to get embarrassed. He went in search of the Doctor, and found him, Jack, and M in the owlry. The Time Lords were talking to the owls, then translating for Jack. Apparently, it was a funny game of avian, alien, human telephone, because they were all laughing uproariously, even the owls were hooting. "Harry!" cried the Doctor, catching sight of the shaggy-haired young man. "Hedwig is brilliant!"

Harry found his owl and stroked her snowy white wings, thinking about her dying so pointlessly during the Battle of the Seven Potters. He was starting to see how knowledge of the future could really drive you mad. The Doctor's false cheer was making more and more sense to him.

Jack and M began discussing an alien world with an ocean that was actually a liquid crystal entity with psychic powers. The Doctor rolled his eyes and strode over to Harry. "They've been talking about Lanimaperta for hours," he quietly whined.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see what you mean about time travel and impatience. I know we said we'd wait for Voldemort to come here on his own schedule, because it would make him feel in control and give us the best chance of blind-siding him, but I really don't want to wait."

"That's cool. I've talked with Snape about retrieving the red TARDIS. He said he can undo the protective spells –with the use of your invisibility cloak, that is– and then I'll activate the homing beacon. How soon do you want to do this?"

"I need to find out how long it will take to set up the spells I need. Of course, I'll have to tell everyone at least part of the plan, so they'll help."

Harry thought he ought to feel more guilty about deceiving Dumbledore, but the man had tried to make him into a killer, and that wasn't sitting well with Harry. Though his life was far from normal, he knew that sixteen year old boys shouldn't have to participate in fights to the death. Nobody should, but especially not children.

They all gathered in the dungeon, where Dumbledore and Snape had sequestered themselves, just in case the Dark Lord had any spies around Hogwarts' grounds. Harry explained that he wanted to lure Voldemort to the Forbidden Forest and face off with him, one-on-one, as soon as possible. He said he'd accepted his destiny and was ready to fulfill it, so why should he wait and allow more people to die? Nobody had a good counter-argument to this logic, and it seemed to everyone to be Harry's right to make such a decision. "What about the TARDIS horcrux?" asked Dumbledore.

The Doctor said, "I'll program it to go back where it came from: a time-locked dimension, which is essentially a place that doesn't exist, closed off as it is from all universes…err, as long as we repair the leak. Anyway, there are immense destructive forces within, and I'm certain a horcrux could not survive."

This wasn't exactly true, but the Doctor lies. Harry said, "I want to prepare a trap for Voldemort and I need everyone's help."

They talked it over for some time, and then all the witches and wizards began on the necessary spells, out in the woods, under enchantments that shielded them from view. They worked for hours, completing in time to enjoy a late dinner. Harry ate quickly, thanked everyone, then excused himself. He went back to the owlry, composed a brief letter on Hogwarts school paper, and sealed it in an envelope addressed to 'Lord Voldemort, Malfoy Manor.' Not wanting to endanger Hedwig, he chose a burly Hogwarts owl, affixed the letter securely to its leg and said, "Please drop this on the front steps, without stopping. They won't give you anything nice to eat. Come back and I'll get you three field mice."

The owl shrieked and took off.

Voldemort could hardly believe what he was reading, but the slightly unhinged sincerity of the letter was undeniable. It started abruptly, without even a perfunctory salutation:

"I'm ready for this to end. If you are, too, then meet me in the Forbidden Forest, a kilometer in if you go due north from Hagrid's shack, tomorrow at 11:30 pm. There is a clearing there where I will be waiting. I want to face you alone, just you and me. I cannot bear to have anyone else get hurt because of me, so please leave them out of it. I'm tired of the pain and the waiting. Come and get me.

If you suspect I'm setting a trap with Aurors waiting to arrest you, send someone ahead to check. Though, considering what you did at Azkaban two nights ago, I doubt any prison could hold you.

Harry

P.S. Here is my blood, to check I really wrote this."

Voldemort was morbidly impressed by the row of bloody fingerprints at the bottom of the page. The tone of the letter was decidedly depressed, which made sense considering Dumbledore's recent demise, but it had flashes of bravado, and the offer was not unappealing. He had originally planned on killing the boy in front of his Death Eaters, but now he found he quite relished the idea of meeting Harry in the forest, and taking his time in breaking him. Harry didn't say that he wouldn't put up a fight, nor did he ask for mercy for himself, only for his friends, and they were of little consequence to Voldemort, anyway. The Dark Lord smiled. "Oh, Harry…you had me at 'I'm ready.'"