Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

by patrick mcclellan

6th year. Time magic. New teachers. Causality. Year 6 replacement. I continue JKR's characterization, and that means Harry is not a god, no one cuts themselves, there is no implied harem, there is no Mary Sue, Dumbledore/the Weasleys aren't actually evil. If you've read it, go ahead and write me a summary, if this isn't good enough.

35. Chapter 35 Strands Upon the Cosmic Braid

35 - The Strands Upon the Cosmic Braid

When Harry awoke the next morning, Connor's bed was gone. Neville had repacked Connor's trunk and moved his chest of drawers, on top of which was the American's garden, next to his own. There was no use dragging yesterday out so early in the morning, so Harry just concentrated on getting ready for class. He was almost back to speed, so that was something to look forward to.

Breakfast was non-eventful. Far too many students missed it on occasion Connor's absence to be noted, even by Parvati or Lavender. Neville ate breakfast, but sat off by himself.

Potions without Malfoy was always more pleasant. Harry still had no idea what had really happened to him, and he didn't care. Hermione had tried to show him another memory last night, and Harry patently refused. Connor had something to do with it, or he wouldn't have fled. Malfoy was always bragging about what he could buy...well, whatever Connor -and maybe Neville- had done, Malfoy had bought and paid for, in his opinion.

Potions class was almost like being in school again; they could actually learn something. It was a mixed bag, because Neville's face was too much of a distraction, and with no Connor, people stared more than they might have otherwise. Snape ignored the scars completely. Likewise, he ignored Connor's absence. Blaise Zabini had finally produced a usable potion, though he had gotten at least five chances that Harry knew of. He sat in the back gloating and teasing Neville, until Harry finally snapped.

"Come here, Zabini. Say that to his face. I dare you."

Snape finally looked up. "One would think you'd learned your lesson by now, especially with your bodyguard...indisposed. Shut up, Potter. Stop goading my students into fights." He frowned as he swished Ernie MacMillan's potion, which sparked as it splashed in the bottle. "5 points, both of you. You should both know better than to bring this into my classroom. Either one of you."

It still stopped Blaise, though. With only the enigmatic Nott to possibly stick up for him, and Padma and Ernie staring at him, he didn't feel comfortable with the odds.

Harry made it through potions without losing any more points, and for the rest of the day, he simply kept his head low. Neville refused to talk to Hermione, Harry, or Ron unless he was forced, and didn't mention Connor, though he did pull Natalie MacDonald aside at lunch. Harry didn't hear what he said, but she fled from the great hall in tears.

While they were eating, Parvati turned to Harry. "I found out what happened to Draco," she said quietly.

"Really?" He was a little surprised that the word about Connor would be out already.

"How did you find out?" Neville said. Parvati glanced at Neville, raised her eyebrows, and then looked back to Harry.

"He was out flying a broom at night. I guess they found a broken window and pieces of it in one of the towers!"

Harry had no time for gossip, but he had to admit that he was relieved to hear nothing about Connor or, more importantly, Neville. Also, Parvati was irresistible when she had a secret. He wished she'd find a way to explain away Connor's disappearance. That is, if she even knew he was missing. She was going to soon enough, and whether he liked it or not, Harry was going to wind up in the middle of it, once again.

Defense was predictable. In fact, without Malfoy, it was almost boring. He had already done everything they were going to work on for the rest of the year. He wondered how Hermione dealt with always knowing what everyone was talking about. As far as he was concerned, it was a bit of a drag.

After class he trudged slowly back to the common room. Before he could get there, Parvati pulled him aside.

"We've not spent any real time together in forever," she said. She was absent-mindedly running her thumb over the Sky-Ball, which was highly distracting.

"And?" Harry said.

She wrapped her arms around him. Her hair was mostly tied back, but some was still lose. It tickled Harry's nose. She kissed him for a few seconds, and Harry still had enough of his mind to wonder how it was that she had such soft lips, and how every time she kissed him, it invariably shocked him, even if it was just for a moment, even though he knew how soft they were.

"Let's go for a stroll, Harry. We can just...catch up."

While lying in a bed in Saint Mungo's with a numb body and severely scarred friend, Harry had very firmly resolved to break things off with Parvati. It was only through blind luck that she hadn't wound up there, with -or in place of- Neville. Now that she was in front of him, he remembered what it was that made her so attractive, besides the fact that she was so bloody beautiful, and still wanted to be around a blistering idiot like him.

Since he had come to Hogwarts, he hadn't met anyone who could calm him down like Parvati. She was like the anti-Malfoy...just seeing Malfoy made him want to hex people. Walking with her was exactly what he needed to forget about the things that were driving him batty...the attack on him and Neville, the whole ordeal with mysterious American, and the vanishing Dark Lord not least among them. He took her hand.

They walked to Hagrid's hut first, where Parvati procured a note allowing them to search for Bluecap Spliners that night. She didn't notice the missing bike, and Hagrid managed to avoid mentioning Connor's flight the night before. After that, they took refuge under a large oak that was back a bit from the shore of the lake, and relished the beautiful day under the shade of its leaves. Parvati got very close, and Harry stopped his hundredth attempt to sort this year out in his head.

He was mesmerized by her perfume and proximity, and he lost track of exactly how much time they spent together, when he heard a noise he recognized immediately. A dark speck appeared in the sky, and dropped alarmingly. It was now barely higher than the roofline of the castle. He glanced at the top of Parvati's head, which was all he could see right now. She had fallen asleep kissing him, and was pressed tightly against him. Her breath was hot on his neck. The Pingaling vanished from sight and the sound of the engine died abruptly. Harry was staring at the castle. What was Connor doing back at Hogwarts? He stared at the castle, deep in thought, and was about to go see when a small brown streak shot away from the castle. It was Connor, dashing to the treeline as a catamount. Harry had never seen him in a position to really stretch out and go, and he was silently impressed. Connor could motivate.

Now Harry did move. There was no doubt in his mind that someone was about to be hurt. Parvati stirred.

"Harry?"

"Go to the castle," he said, somberly.

"What?"

"Get to the castle, now. If you see Dumbledore, tell him..."

"I'm not leaving you," Parvati interrupted. She was looking directly at him now.

"I just need someone to alert Dumbledore. I'm not trying to get rid of you!"

"You can cast a Patronus. Send it!" She straightened her shirt. "I already let you down once, Harry. I'm not going to do it again. I gave you a second chance. You owe me."

Harry did owe her. He'd be the first to admit it. He sighed and summoned the silvery stag, which snorted and pawed at the ground impatiently. "Tell Dumbledore that Connor Colier is back!" The stag just stood there, looking at him.

"You have to do it like this," Parvati said. She whispered in the stag's ear, then stood back and nodded at Harry.

"Uh...Dumbledore. Find Dumbledore." The massive silver animal spun on its hooves and galloped away.

"Alright, Harry. Lead the way."

"What?"

"I know what you're going to do. You're predictable. And I'm coming with."

"But..."

"Don't argue with me, Harry. You knew what you were getting with me."

In fact, Harry was continuously surprised by Parvati. He had no idea he'd been getting into.

They ran towards the spot where Connor had vanished, wands out and at the ready.

Dean was ready for the year to end. He was worried, to be honest. The Prophet had been saying all year that You-Know-Who wasn't really back, that some wizards were just delusional. His old man had taught him many things, but chief among them was the idea that money talked, and the wizards who agreed with You-Know-Who were pretty loaded. He reckoned the papers would make him out to be a saint, if they thought they could get away with it.

He looked up from the sketch he was working on. An impossible noise was getting louder. He knew that sound. He pushed his chair back and scanned the ground carefully, then the sky. There were only two wizards who rode that motorbike regularly, and one had disappeared mysteriously last night, and the other was staring out the window now.

Belatedly, he looked up, directly in front of the window. He actually stood there for several seconds...why would someone be riding the bike directly at the castle? That didn't make sense; it wasn't like the castle was bloody inconspicuous. It was indeed Connor riding, and when it became obvious that he was not going to turn away, Dean dove out of the way.

"Get down!" he shouted. People in the common room stared at him as though he was batty. Some looked out the window, and after seeing what he had, they dove for cover. Dean managed to wave his wand and one of the lounges slid in front of a group of terrified first years just as the window exploded inwards and Connor rode the bike through the glass and into the common room. He was on the brakes before the bike touched the floor and even though Dean had his face mostly shielded, he could still see the wheels, and he could see them turning and then locking up as Connor tried to slow the errant bike down. It appeared futile. Someone was shouting something; Dean could hear it even over the clangy rasp of the Pingaling's motor, and the common room was filled with the acrid scent of oil and petrol. There was a tremendous crash, and Dean raised his head.

A few seventh years had stopped flying motorbike parts from flying into the room, and the lounge that Dean had moved had rips and holes where bits of glass had cut into it. He could feel something warm on his leg, and looked down to see a small hole his trousers. He knew there was a stream of blood running down his leg.

Across the room, Natalie MacDonald was standing alone, wand extended and trembling. She was covered in small cuts, which were trickling blood, and bits of glass glittered from her long hair. Connor was lying on the common room floor. Around the room, people were raising their heads slowly.

"You twisted..." one of the seventh years who had kept the shattered bike from flying into the midst of the room started.

"Hold up, mate," Dean said. He scrambled to Connor, who was bleeding from an untold number of cuts. He'd learned little only about Connor when they were working on Harry's motorbike together, but one of the things he did learn was that Connor was pretty methodical. Maybe he wasn't Sherlock Holmes, but when they were repairing things, he'd never had to do anything twice, and that wasn't because he was that good.

It was because he didn't do things rashly. If he rode a motorbike into the Gryffindor common room, there was a good reason for it, and Dean wanted to know what it was.

Connor shook his head feebly. "Nuuuuh..." Natalie MacDonald was suddenly kneeling beside him. One of the cuts on her forehead looked deeper than the rest, and blood was dripping on Connor. Dean looked at her.

"Why didn't you take cover behind something?" he asked.

"Cushioning charm," she said in a distant voice. She glanced at the pile of smoking wreckage. The back wheel was still spinning slowly. "Not good enough." She put a tiny hand on Connor's shoulder. "Con? Can you hear me?"

Connor managed to raise his head. Blood was dripping into his eyes, and he tried to blink it out. "I cut you." He looked around. "I...I'm sorry...Harry!"

"What about Harry, mate?" Dean said softly. He was feeling a bit faint.

"He's in danger! Have to warn him!"

"Just rest a second. How's Harry in danger? He seems to be at the top of You-Know-Who's list."

"Potter always thinks he's in danger. In danger of being found out, maybe."

Dean looked up. Cormac McLaggen was one bloke he could do without. Cormac was big enough to handle himself though...nearly as big as Connor. He also had connections, so Dean couldn't say what he really felt. Natalie had none of his compunctions. She placed her wand on Cormac's foot and muttered, and a brilliant magenta light flashed, along with a pop. Cormac leapt backwards and fell over, cursing.

Connor was rising to his feet slowly. His long hair was red with blood, and he was covered from head to toe in cuts. "Tosser," Dean muttered, watching Cormac fumble with his shoe. Natalie moved as if she wanted to curse Connor, but in the end, she lowered her wand and hugged him. He winced and held her with one bloody arm.

"Harry...please, you have to warn him."

"I got that," Dean said. "Warn him how?"

"I stopped in Bristol to tank up. When I reached in the bag where Harry stuffed my money, this happened." Connor held up his hand. Like the rest of him, it was covered in blood. He miraculously found a relatively un-soiled patch and wiped off the blood. He held up one finger. The tip of it was slightly mangled. It seemed odd that he could be covered in blood and showing off a tiny former-cut. In fact, Dean was fairly certain he could knit it in short order. "At first I thought I just cut it on something -a tool maybe- so I just pulled everything out, and that rat was there."

"The...rat?"

"That wizard; the one that Harry and Neville and I chased. I was going to kill him, but he got away. He didn't run away though, he just transfigured."

Neville appeared at Dean and Connor's side. "Wormtail?"

"Who's Wormtail?" Natalie asked.

"This...death eater. Harry and me and Connor almost had him."

Connor interrupted. He was trying to wipe as much blood as he could from his face. Neville had turned his attention to the students in the common room. He moved throughout the room, kneeling occasionally. He ran back to the dormitory, probably to fetch some of his infused bandages. Dean turned back to Connor.

"He told me if I cared at all about Harry, I'd better get back here, because something was going to happen to him, and it was going to happen today. He said You-Know-Who had something special planned." He looked around. "Where is he?"

"Don't know," Dean said. "Are you sure? Like...absolutely certain?"

"Would I have done this if I wasn't?" He nodded at the ruined motorbike. He gritted and pulled his jacket away from his shirt. His wand had pierced the inside pocket of his jacket and jabbed through his shirt and chest below. He winced and pulled it out with a squishing noise. It was broken near the tip, and trialing pale green sparks. Connor stared at it. He reached in a side pocket and produced a package that was wrapped in soggy parchment. It was a wand that was very similar to his, only it was silver, and intact. "You have to find Dumbledore. McGonagall. Walken. Someone. I have to get to Harry."

He had managed to remove his jacket, and he raised his shirt, exposing a dozen cuts and the hole his wand had made. It appeared to be just above his stomach. He stared at it, took several deep breaths, and then dug in the hole with his finger. Dean could see jaw muscles clench. He grabbed Connor's arm and pulled on it.

"Are you mad?" Natalie hissed.

"Get it out. Summon it."

Natalie shook her head slowly. "I..."

"Please!"

"Dean can do it!"

"Dean has to hold me down." He wiped more blood on his abused shirt. "Please."

She stared at Dean and then Connor, who nodded. Natalie hesitantly reached out. She nearly touched the wound with her wand. "Accio wand tip!" Connor screamed and Dean held him in a bear hug. With a gut turning snap, a small piece of sharpened wood wrenched itself free and slapped into Natalie's hand. She stared at it with a horrified look. Connor exhaled with a moan and went slack, and then there was nothing in Dean's arms, and a flash of brown ran through the portrait hole.

"Now what?" Natalie asked.

Dean turned to the common room, which still had shattered glass everywhere, skid marks on the floor, and a nasty haze of petrol, oil, and blood in the air. "Alright! Listen up!"

Harry could hear Connor's roar, which wasn't what he expected, no matter how many times he heard it. He expected thundering. What he heard was a winding, pitchy shriek.

"Connor!" He shouted. He could see the big cat swivel its head in his direction, and then a flash of orange slammed into Connor. This time, the roar was exactly what Harry expected, the nearest thing to thunder he could imagine coming from a living thing. He looked down at his wand. It suddenly seemed very inadequate. A puffing behind him reminded him that Parvati was still there. He wished she'd gone back to the castle.

As he ran, Connor and the other animagus -Altasia, Connor had called him- twisted and snapped. Connor was pathetically small compared to the other cat. It dwarfed him, and when its huge paws swung, Harry could almost hear the woosh. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"Harry, that's a tiger."

"Yeah."

"A tiger!"

"Yeah." Harry continued to walk forward, and to her credit, so did Parvati.

Harry was cautious not to get within swiping range of either cat. He was pretty sure he was in leaping range, in fact, he knew he was for Connor, but both wizards seemed focused on each other. He cautiously stepped to the side, towards the tree line. Parvati was very close to him, with her wand over his shoulder.

The moment he reached the trees, the world disappeared with a clang. The two cats stopped immediately, and Harry's eyes fixed on the tall figure in the middle of the temporal bubble. Connor and Altasia transfigured as one. Harry had never seen Altasia as a wizard. He was tremendously huge, as big as any other man Harry had ever seen, except Hagrid, and covered in tattoos that mimicked his stripes. He had a bald head, and a ragged orange beard. His wand, which he was clutching tightly, was identical in shape to Connor's, only it was jet black, and huge. Connor was holding the silver wand, rather than his own, and both men had cuts and scrapes over their body. Connor looked as though he had just been run through a food processor.

A voice shouted out and a green bolt almost hit Harry. He could feel Parvati darting behind him. Voldemort slashed the air behind him and half a dozen masked wizards were knocked to the ground. "No! You'll hit the boy! He's mine!"

"Stay behind me," Harry whispered back to Parvati. "He won't let them touch you if they have to go through me." Parvati didn't reply, but she held her wand over his shoulder. Harry had his wand at the ready, but he knew how Voldemort operated. He'd talk for a while first.

Several curses struck Altasia, who seemed unaffected. He roared and transfigured. He leapt at the robed figures. Voldemort stood his ground calmly. "Avada Kedavra!" The tiger may have shrugged off some curses, but no one could have survived that. Voldemort was forced to step aside as eight hundred pounds of cat sailed into the group of death eaters, knocking several to the ground. A few weren't moving after the tiger had fallen on them, but that didn't seem to faze Voldemort. He stared at them disdainfully, and turned back to Harry. Connor had worked his way in between Harry and Voldemort. The dark lord looked up, and almost casually cast a spell at Connor.

Connor was handy with a shielding charm, but not only was he using a wand that was not his own, Harry didn't even know what the spell was. How could you block a spell you'd never seen? Regardless, some spells just looked evil. Connor was radiating a brownish glow and gasping.

Voldemort was watching him curiously. "I must admit, I am...curious. You're not even a mudblood; You're just mud." He paused. "Yet that spell would have killed most wizards swiftly. If it will give you a better death, know that I will study your body, to see why you fared better than a real wizard." He looked at Harry. "This is a lesson. You must prize knowledge, Harry." He pointed his wand towards Parvati. "Spare her, if you truly care. She doesn't want to see you die. Bring her forth. Let her die first." He smiled chillingly. "That is what mercy is, Harry."

Connor had dropped to one knee now, leaning over the silver wand. His blood-soaked hair was sticking to his cheeks or hanging limply. As Harry watched, he kissed the silver wand and whispered to it reverently. Then he transfigured. He leapt at the Dark Lord, shrieking again. Several of the death eaters stepped back, which they hadn't done when Altasia had leapt. Connor's roar was simply too disconcerting. Voldemort actually looked momentarily confused, and then he stepped forward, raised his wand, and a silver shaft of light extended from the tip. It went in just in front of the big cat's belly, and exited just between its shoulder blades. Connor went instantly limp, and Voldemort stepped to the side and swung his wand as though he was swinging a whip. Connor's lifeless body swung as if tied to the dark lord's wand and slammed into the ground. When Voldemort turned, he sported several long gashes on his face. Connor had given him one last gift. With a leer he pointed his wand at his face, and the gashes closed. He cast another spell that seemed to suck the blood from his skin. The Ex Nihlo wizard had still left long, white scars along Voldemort's cheek and down his neck. In Harry's opinion, it was an improvement.

They stared at each other for several moments. Then Harry spoke. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Harry Potter. I am."

"Do I get a last request then?"

"Of course, Harry. I am civilized."

"Can I have a bit of chocolate?" Some of the death eaters laughed, then. Voldemort did not.

"I forget you are a child, Harry. If only one in ten of my followers had your...determination."

He extended his wand and Harry felt a tiny tug. A small package, a chocolate frog card Harry had been carrying since before coming to Hogwarts, floated in front of him. He took it slowly, and opened it very deliberately. He captured the frog before it hopped away. He didn't really feel like a sweet, but if there was ever a time to fake it, this was it. He was holding his breath as he looked at the card. It was his last hope. "Dumbledore," he said with a gasp. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore stared up at him. "Wish he was here now," Harry observed. He looked up. "D'you collect?" Voldemort looked on with disgust. "I do," Harry said. He slowly pulled the stack of magical wizarding cards from their spot in his inside pocket. He put the Dumbledore card on top, then fanned them out, and held them up. "Meet Lord Voldemort," he said loudly. "Darkest wizard in a hundred years." He leaned back and quietly whispered to Parvati. "Banish them."

The death eaters watched him warily but didn't cast any spells. One of the men, or women, that Altasia had crushed moaned softly. The rest ignored it.

Harry barely even had to toss his cards. Parvati's timing was very good, and she banished the cards as he let go of them. The deck of Weasley's Wizarding Cards flew directly at the dark wizard, who managed to pick a few off with well-placed curses. Harry could hear dozens of faint voices hooting and hollering, and tiny curses covered Voldemort with small bumps, cuts, and burns, primarily in the face. Small cries of "take that!" and "Here's a good one!" drifted back to the Death Eaters, and Harry's friends. The most frightening magical figure of some very, very long memories swatted and kicked at flying wizarding cards spouting infinitesimal curses. Finally, Voldemort shrieked "Incendio!" and a balloon of flame torched most of the cards. A mostly-destroyed Morgana could be heard to say "It was worth it!" as she drifted to the floor and curled into a pile of black ash.

Harry has used the distraction to stun several death eaters. Voldemort was absolutely livid, and he turned on Harry, flicking his wand, almost as though casting was a bother. Harry performed a shielding charm and waited for the end.

It never came. Parvati was breathing heavily in his ear. "Harry?" she said softly. "Harry, tell me I stopped it!"

Parvati had shielded him at the same time he had shielded himself! Harry had no idea whether she had used the same charm as he had, but she had either helped or straight up saved his life. Voldemort was so mad now that his wand tip was smoldering and smoking. Before he could cast another spell, a thrumming resonated through the bubble. Ambrose Walken appeared in a column of golden mist, holding the hand of Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin.

Daphne?

Walken raised his wand just in time to deflect a curse, and Daphne cast three in rapid succession. It was only then that Harry realized that he was actually seeing Minerva McGonagall as she must have looked when she was his age.

Walken pointed his wand at Voldemort. "Lapsare!" A beam of blue light enveloped Voldemort, and now instead of impossibly fast, he merely appeared improbably fast. Walken looked back at Minerva and Harry. "That spell will empower whatever he casts!"

More and more chimes rang out, and figures spread around Harry; figures that he at first didn't recognize, until he saw the long, flowing black hair of Cho Chang, who'd dragged Michael Corner along with her, and the golden-flecked mane of Padma Patil, who was standing next to Luna Lovegood. In the excitement, Harry had enough time and clarity to muse that he'd never noticed that Padma was left-handed, and Parvati, right. Ron stepped into the bubble with Ginny in tow, and Hermione with Dean. Ernie Macmillan stepped in with Kingsley Shacklebolt, and far to his right, Susan Bones appeared with Neville Longbottom. Every one of the temporalists-in-training had come, except Nott, and he was a Slytherin.

Innately, Harry understood that there would be a moment of talking. He wasn't sure how; maybe because that was how it always happened in the movies.

Voldemort held a hand up. "I don't want to spill wizard blood." He gazed at his death eaters, who were shuffling uneasily. "We must give them a chance to remember what they are." One laughed harshly. Harry was pretty certain it was Bellatrix Lestrange. Voldemort stared at Neville. "Interesting. Maybe I'll use that in the future."

"I know I will!" The death eater cried. Now Harry was certain it was Bellatrix. The death-eaters were spreading out. It would make them harder to hit, but the D.A. had been going a different route. Harry had the feeling he was about to see if it would pay off.

"So," Walken started conversationally, his wand up. "Tom Riddle?"

"I am Tom no longer!"

"Right, right. Funny though."

"Exactly what is funny?" Voldemort asked. Harry kind of agreed. Funny wasn't a word he would use to describe this situation. It wasn't even close to a word he'd use.

"How you started out after immortality; fifty years later...here I am a handsome devil, and there you are..." Walken paused. "Well, frankly, you look like a snake's arse."

Voldemort took a very deep breath. Harry took it as a bad sign.

He also realized the temporalist was doing a complex wand motion and had been, very subtly, for some time. Finally, he swung his wand around to the students. "Echo!" Walken shouted, and random duplicates appeared throughout the bubble.

The death eaters had started off out-numbering the students, but now the two sides were approximately even, and as the multi-colored curses, hexes, and jinxes flew, Harry was astonished that the students were using what they had practiced for so long in D.A.. The older wizards, perhaps over-confident, quickly started to panic as the teams of school-aged students ground them down, working as two-man teams where one would defend and the other, attack. Nearly half the death eaters had been disabled before they collapsed into some kind of formation. The students dodged the curses from Voldemort, who had been slowed down to the point where it was possible now. One last chime announced the arrival of another temporalist, and Harry glanced around. Theodore Nott dashed from a cloud of white and gold, holding the hand of the only man Voldemort ever feared; Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore immediately stunned three death eaters and Nott pushed him out of the way of a killing curse, which struck Dean square in the chest. The students attacked as one, and a scant handful of seconds later, Voldemort was the only death eater left standing. He had a black shield in one hand and shouted at he held something aloft. "I have all the time I need!" He tossed the time bomb and jabbed through the air with his wand, pulverizing the small sphere of glass as it passed in front of him.

"No!" Walken shouted. Harry braced himself. What would it feel like? He was guessing apparation, only worse. When the curses didn't stop, Voldemort started to change. He now had a wide-eyed look that Harry couldn't believe; not fear, but desperation, perhaps? Voldemort spun his wand over his head and a line of flame snaked out. Dumbledore held his wand up and a ring of green circled the flames. Voldemort shouted and moved his wand in a dizzyingly complex pattern.

A moment later, Harry was laying on someone, wondering how his ears got turned inside-out and feeling like he'd just gone a round with Dudley. He belatedly reached his wand and swung it about wildly. Wherever the death eaters had gone, it wasn't here.

"It didn't work!" Walken shouted from somewhere off to his right. Harry looked up. Walken was hugging McGonagall, spinning her around with his hands in an indecent place. "It didn't work, Minnie! I've never been so happy to fail...ever!"

"Harry!"

Apparently he was on top of Parvati. He rolled over and kissed her intensely. She had been there the whole time...he'd been shielding them, and she'd been casting things at the death eaters.

"I wonder how he broke that bubble?" Walken mused, still holding McGonagall off the ground. "I'm going to have to research that." He looked for Dumbledore, who was looking at Connor's body. In the excitement Harry had forgotten about Dean, but he remembered now.

"Dean!"

"What?" came a voice from his left.

Harry looked toward the voice. "You're alive!"

"Decoy, I guess," Dean puffed. "I saw it too. Kinda odd, that's for sure. You don't get to see yourself bite it too many times."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That was some spell." At that moment, he noticed Connor. Dumbledore had transfigured him back to a human, and all Harry could see were his booted feet. Harry struggled to his feet and helped Parvati rise, and then motioned for her to wait. He slowly stepped over to where the American lay. Parvati tried to follow him, but he held her back with an extended arm. "You don't want to see this," he said. The teachers, along with Dean, Dumbledore, and Harry blocked off the grizzly scene.

The hole that Voldemort's curse had made looked truly hideous, and he was drenched, as if all the blood that was in his body had fallen on his shirt or the ground around him. Neville was kneeling by his friend's side. "I do wish he'd have stayed away," Dumbledore muttered. He looked up at the students behind him, as if seeing them for the first time. "Please allow Professor Shaklebolt to escort you back to the castle," He said loudly, turning and shooing the students away with his hands.

"Harry!" Dean protested. "He was my mate, too!"

Dumbledore looked to Harry, who nodded slightly. "Mister Potter, Mister Longbottom, and Mister Thomas...if you could assist us?" He turned to Shaklebolt. "If you could lead the rest to the infirmary to have them checked out? Make certain Poppy knows dark magic was used."

Kingsley nodded. "Certainly, Albus."

"I tried so hard, Albus," Walken said, shaking his head. "I..." he shook his head again. He had set McGonagall down. He knelt on one knee next to Connor. "I brought him halfway around the world! Hogwarts was the safest place I could think of! Even when he became a danger to the other students...I was watching! He should have been even safer away from me...I mean...they could track me, but..."

"He only came back to warn Harry," Neville said without looking up.

Harry looked up. "I only came here because he did...I saw him come back and..."

Walken pulled the silver wand from below the body.

"Put that down!" Neville hissed. "It's his!"

"It's Kate's, and he loved her more than he loved himself. You weren't his only friend, Longbottom. I knew them both before you even started school." Neville was momentarily silenced.

Walken checked Connor's pockets, until he pulled something soggy from one on the back of the American's blood-soaked jeans. He laid it on the ground and tapped it with his wand, and it slowly restored itself. It was the picture of the witch that Harry had retrieved earlier. He tucked it in his breast pocket. Then he ran his wand over Connor, slowly removing much of the blood in a manner that looked similar to the spell Voldemort had used, only Voldemort's spell had done its work in seconds. When Connor was cleaned up a little, Walken rose to his feet. He saw Altasia's limp form a bit away.

There was nothing magical about the kick Walken delivered to the dead tiger animagus. Harry thought his professor might have broken his foot, though. Then Walken pulled the silver wand and pointed it at the corpse. "Celero!" A pale red light enveloped it, and it decayed before Harry's eyes. Not as though it had been disintegrated; more like it rotted and fell apart, very quickly. When there was nothing but bones remaining, Dumbledore placed one thin hand on Walken's shoulder. Walken shouted and redoubled his efforts, and gradually, even the bones faded to dust. He finally stopped and stared at them, and then with a curse, kicked the pile of fine white grit, scattering it roughly. Then he turned and tucked the wand into Connor's boot, and patted him on the shoulder. He pulled his own wand and cast a spell Harry couldn't hear. Connor's body vanished into a silvery-black cocoon, and Walken looked at Dumbledore and nodded. Dumbledore raised his own wand and the body levitated off the ground.

Harry turned to Neville. "I'm sor-"

"He came back for you," Neville repeated. "He didn't have to. He knew he was as good as dead if he did. He still thought you were worth it." Neville looked directly at him. That bloody scar rattled Harry fiercely. "You know what that means?" Harry shook his head slowly. "You'd better make it worth it."

Dean looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't. Likewise, McGonagall shook her head silently.

What could be said?

Harry had decided very quickly that he hated funerals. He didn't want to be at this one anymore, and he didn't ever want to go to another one. Fat chance, that, with Voldemort on the loose. The icing on that rather pitiful cake was a headache that no amount of occlumency could dull.

Hagrid was off by himself, and there was a hazy blotch behind him. Harry stared at it as he pondered the way things had gone this year. He knew he was spacing off, because one moment Parvati was sitting beside him, and the next time he looked Ginny Weasley was there. He hadn't even seen Parvati slip away. He looked around. There were certainly a lot of people for an unpopular American's funeral. Some of them he didn't even recognize, and they didn't look like the kind of friends Connor would have.

And the headache was really getting bad. He couldn't understand what whomever was speaking was actually saying right now...It was all a dulcet monotone.

The blob behind Hagrid was getting more and more solid. It looked familiar somehow, and Harry watched it for a while. Perhaps it was a new ghost, or something. It seemed way too big, but Harry would be the first to admit he didn't know everything about being a ghost. Even when he was briefly interested, he hadn't learned much. After a few minutes of wracking his brain for a memory he just couldn't get ahold of, he shifted his gaze to the area where the Hogwart's faculty were. Someone was missing. Several people were, in fact. Snape, for one, though that was hardly a surprise. There was no love lost between the American and Snape. There were others missing as well. Dumbledore wasn't talking yet, but he wasn't sitting with the rest of the staff, so it was coming up. A stranger was sitting next to Professor Sinestra; a short, pudgy man, and Harry tried to distract his aching head by figuring out who he was.

He absently reached into his robe pocket. There was something there he didn't recognize, so he pulled it out and glanced at it. His headache was now close to torture, and he pressed on his eyes, hoping that would alleviate some of the pain. It didn't. He changed track and squeezed his temples.

"We'll be there, Harry," said Ron. At least he was pretty sure it was Ron. Well, maybe it could have been Ron. Harry wasn't sure, because he was still staring at the locket he had taken from the cavern the night Dumbledore had died. He had just been thinking something. What was it? He was rubbing his head the way he did when he had non-scar-related pain, but it didn't really hurt. He slowly dropped his hand.

He felt like he was coming out of a fog, somehow. "What?" he replied.

"At your aunt and uncle's house," said Ron. "And then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

Harry held his hand in the air, staring at the spots where the sunlight created tiny silver explosions. In the end, he had held onto this; Dumbledore had entrusted it to him. "No-" said Harry quickly; he had to think for a second to determine what Ron was on about. With a flash, it came to him...He had not counted on this; he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone.

"You said to us once before," said Hermione quietly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

"We're with you whatever happens," said Ron. "But mate, you're going to have to come round to my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

"Why?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

Harry looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.

"Yeah, we shouldn't miss that," he said finally.

His had closed automatically around the fake Horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione.

[AN]

Well, what do you think? I actually wrote the end to this about the same time as the beginning, all those years ago (it started as a year 5 fic, and you can tell in places). When I finally got this far in the story, the end wasn't really what I wanted, so I did a pretty thorough re-write. Did you get it? Not get it? If you've been skipping the feedback, now is the time to actually give some. Thanks for sticking with it, or discovering it. Every favorite, review, or story alert convinced me to keep going. Now that it is all over I can finally focus on some of the other million ideas I have floating around that are actually mine. I truly enjoy talking about my writing with anyone who is actually interested, so I don't mind an email or message. I will write more fanfic (it's how I unwind between my own projects) but nothing this long, ever again. If I have any talent, it is in short stories and honestly, I write mostly to create the people.

Beyond that, it is not goodbye, it is just goodnight.

Pat McClellan

[/AN]