Narcissa was a woman who was accustomed to being able to roll with the punches, but there was an upper limit on the number of surprises she could handle in one day. First of all, her silly son decided to completely blindside her about a phenomenally stupid plan he'd decided to put into action to kill Voldemort. Then he'd gotten ambushed by Gregory Goyle of all people, who'd promptly captured Voldemort. Then Grindelwald had abandoned all sense of subtlety and taken everyone in the school, including Draco, hostage.
It had taken all of Narcissa's political acumen, and, she was forced to concede, the odd subtle Confundus charm or two, in order to stop Fudge from doing something ridiculous. The man was not actually as dumb as he looked. When it came to ordinary, normal times, he was able to keep the ship that was the Ministry running smoothly. But whenever it came to a crisis, Fudge had an uncanny ability to do the absolute stupidest thing possible. Seriously, it was eerie how he automatically locked onto the worst possible choice. Thankfully, Narcissa was able to cut him off from the pass and reject his first idea of sending all the Aurors in, which would only get all the Aurors killed in addition to the whole school.
Some people in her position would have simply bumped off the idiot and ruled directly. Narcissa had no interest in doing that. She didn't want to be the minister. Not yet, and possibly not ever. Narcissa vastly preferred ruling from behind the throne. It was safer. She had plans to blackmail Umbridge into leaving and then take on the role of Senior Undersecretary herself. Besides, she still had to tie up her loose ends.
Narcissa's grand plan was to pretend Lucius had been Imperiused by Voldemort yet again and frame Voldemort for breaking the Wizengamot. Then she would convince Fudge to take on emergency powers to deal with the threat of his "return," because what else would he do in such a situation, stupidly deny it? No, even a moron like Fudge would have seized the opportunity to rule as a dictator rather than sticking his head in the sand. Narcissa knew this in her bones. Of course, Draco planned to kill Voldemort, but no one needed to know that, did they?
But the whole thing had been ruined when Voldemort had been captured, of all things. Captured and arrested, like he was some sort of common criminal! It was a sad end to a man who had once been second in dark power only to Grindelwald. Now Narcissa needed to get rid of Lucius and Voldemort before either one of them could incriminate her.
Happily, amidst all the chaos of Grindelwald revealing himself, everyone at the Ministry was running around like cockatrices with their heads cut off. It was really quite simple – depressingly so – to sneak into the holding cells. The holding cells! Anyone with an ounce of competence would have delivered Voldemort to the Department of Mysteries. But, no, Fudge had all the intelligence of um…well, before today, she'd have said Goyle the Elder, but who could be sure he wasn't some sort of secret mastermind too? Lockhart, she decided. He had all the intelligence of Lockhart.
"Oh, my, I seem to have accidentally dropped this shiny bag of galleons on the ground," Narcissa announced to the Aurors on duty as she conspicuously dropped the aforementioned bag. "What a terrible thing it would be if –"
"Just give us the bloody bribe already," one of the Aurors snarled. Narcissa shrugged and tossed the bag over to him. Fair enough, she supposed. They were, after all, professionals…professionals at taking bribes, at any rate.
The other Auror unlocked the door and Narcissa looked at the horrific homunculus that was, technically speaking, Voldemort. It was saddening. To think he'd been brought low to such a state. She'd once feared and respected him. In retrospect, he'd been a homicidal maniac with no planning skills whatsoever, but at least he'd been classy while doing it. Now he was just this…thing. How the mighty had fallen. Thank goodness Narcissa would die before lowering herself before such levels.
"Lady Malfoy," Lord Voldemort hissed. "I did not expect you to be still loyal to me. Though in retrospect your little stunt with the Wizengamot was a clear sign you were still on my side. I can give you gold, power, immortality, everything you've dreamed of and so much more, if you release me.
A lesser person would have gloated. They would have gone on a diatribe about what a terrible person Voldemort was, about how goodness would always triumph or something asinine like that. But that was the path of folly. And it was unnecessary anyway. Narcissa held no ill will against Voldemort. He was irrelevant now. He belonged to the past and the only thing left to do was to consign permanently him to history.
"Avada Kedavra," Narcissa called out in a smooth, placid tone and watched as the curse Voldemort loved so much took his life.
Narcissa knew that the Aurors probably wouldn't squeal on her, but it didn't pay to take any chances, so she Obliviated them, then Confunded them into thinking they had killed Voldemort themselves. Happily, this had the side effect of allowing her to take back her money. No sense in wasting it. The Aurors had probably been itching to kill Voldemort from the get go and Narcissa was confident they'd get away with just a slap on the wrist, and that was probably the worst case scenario. Everyone won. Well, except for Voldemort, of course.
Once she returned to Fudge's office, he had, as foreseen, started arguing that they needed to sacrifice everyone in the school in order to keep the Statute of Secrecy intact and kill Grindelwald. Narcissa would have actually agreed with this course of action – after making sure she was seen by credible witnesses arguing against it in the name of plausible deniability – were it not for the fact that Draco was among the hostages. Needless to say, her pleas against Fudge doing such a vile act ended up being quite genuine.
In the end, it was Arthur Weasley of all people, who came up with the solution. They'd pretend to give Grindelwald what he wanted in the hopes they could lure him out of the school, or at least deactivate the Fiendfyre spell. Narcissa was shocked she hadn't come up with the plan herself, but she had to admit, the idea of having people pretend to be Muggles simply wouldn't have occurred to her. Her original plan of convincing the world leaders to give up some of their hair for the potions had failed when they'd all refused, wary of what the mages would do with them, so they'd just dressed up some Muggleborn mages as fancy Muggles and called it a day.
Narcissa had dearly wanted to attend the group sent to the school, but she had to take advantage of the time she'd been given to dispose of Lucius. In any case, she had no official role in the government, so she was able to acquiesce to Fudge's halfhearted objections to her absence without losing any face. She quickly flooed to the manor, killed Lucius with yet another Killing Curse (she'd have chosen something more painful if she had the time, but she didn't), and had Dobby dispose of the body. She was in and out in five minutes. Later on, she'd have a glamoured imposter be photographed in some foreign country to make it look like Lucius had fled rather than face justice, thus sending the Aurors on a wild goose chase.
It seemed like it took forever to wait for Fudge to return. It was the most agonizing time of her entire life. Narcissa was used to being in control. She'd expended a great deal of time, money, and energy into making sure she was in control in just about every situation she found herself in. But this time, there was nothing she could do. Even if she went to Hogwarts to try to intervene, her presence would just exacerbate the situation, since Grindelwald hated her for taking away a source of his power. She shouldn't have done that. She should have killed him first. But she'd foolishly believed he would be reasonable and leave Draco out of his little games. Narcissa had an unfortunate habit of overestimating her opponents, projecting her own rationality on them, and once more she'd been disappointed.
But eventually, after a seemingly infinite number of moment in which she envisioned all the horrible things that could have happened to poor Draco, Fudge returned with a beaming smile on his face. "He did it, Narcissa!" Fudge said, almost dancing a jig with glee. "Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord! Uh, the other Dark Lord. The older one. You know, Grindelwald."
It took more willpower than Narcissa had – and she had a preposterous amount – to not do a facepalm. Instead, she turned around, did a facepalm, and then turned back, putting tears of joy into her eyes. "Oh, Cornelius, that's fantastic. And my son?! Is he all right?"
"Everyone is perfectly fine, Narcissa," Fudge promised her. "Well, not entirely – there was one casualty, a first year Dolores might have, uh, accidentally killed," he added in an impressively quick tone of voice. "Needless to say, she's suspended pending further investigation. Horrid woman. Never liked her. But, yes, even Albus is himself again. Uh, we think. We're having the Department of Mysteries check him out."
Narcissa's smile was quite genuine. "This is wonderful news. I do have some…well, I'm not sure if the news is good or bad, but He Who Must Not Be Named appears to have been killed by rogue Aurors."
"Oh, dear," Fudge said, not sounding all that bothered. "How dreadful. A full investigation will, of course, occur." Narcissa was more likely to renounce magic and become a Muggle than for that investigation to recommend any charges and do anything less than sweep the whole affair firmly under the rug.
"Naturally," Narcissa deadpanned. Fudge gave a knowing nod. He was actually not a half-bad politician when he put his mind to it. The trouble was, he so rarely did. "I'd like to speak to my son."
"Certainly, certainly! Oh, I believe he and Harry Potter are accompanying the strike team to attack Nurmengard. Such enterprising young men! They'll turn out to be quite the power couple one day." Narcissa couldn't help but smile a little. Whatever else you could say about Fudge, at least he wasn't homophobic.
Then she blinked. "Did you just say they're going to attack Nurmengard?!" Fudge nodded. The moron really couldn't see what was wrong with that, could he? "Oh, for the love of – do I have to do everything myself?"
She quickly flooed to the Slytherin Common Room of Hogwarts, then ran as fast as she could to the Headmaster's office, where she expected Harry and Draco to go. She caught the two of them, along with Granger, Weasley, Greengrass, another Weasley, and some blond girl who she didn't recognize but she assumed was Lovegood, just as the group was trying to floo out of Hogwarts.
"Going somewhere?" she said in an uncharacteristically annoyed tone.
"Mum!" Draco said and practically leapt into her arms with a hug. Narcissa was taken aback. The affection was not unwelcome, but definitely unexpected. Also, she didn't think Draco had ever referred to her as mum in his entire life. She actually liked it, though of course she would impress upon him he could not call her that in public. "Oh, you missed out on so much! Grindelwald took us all hostage, and Greg turned out to be secretly a genius, and Harry defeated Grindelwald by using the –"
Harry coughed pointedly.
"Uh, special Chosen One magic!" Draco finished unconvincingly. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at his boyfriend's very un-Slytherin lack of cunning. "Anyway, now we're going to head over to Nurmengard and kill Grindelwald for good. So…um, see you later?"
Narcissa let out a long suffering sigh. Was she truly the only person in her family blessed with even the slightest amount of sense? Bellatrix signed up with a madman, Andromeda gave up her family for a Muggle, and the less said about her parents, the better. "Draco, dear, I'd like you to just think about this for a moment. You. Are. Children! You won tonight because of a fluke! This isn't some rogue operation anymore. The entire might of the ICW is being focused on Nurmengard right now. They do not need you. They do not want you. And if you go, you will die."
Harry looked her in the eyes, fearless of the idea of her using Legilimancy on him. She did it anyway and sensed a bone deep certainty and a homicidal anger. "Lady Malfoy. I am going to Nurmengard. My friends will accompany me. Your son will accompany me. If I don't watch Grindelwald die with my own two eyes, I won't ever have any peace. Now are you coming with us or not?"
In another universe, Narcissa made the smart choice. In time, she would put Fudge under the Imperius curse. She would slowly take over the Muggle world, driven to subjugate the Muggles through subtlety and cunning as she'd long dreamed of. The magical populace inexorably infiltrated the Muggle governments to the point where they were ruling the world in fact, to the point where the revelation of magic and the subsequent enslavement of Muggles was a fait accompli. In that universe she won and everyone else lost, including Harry and Draco, both of whom she killed with a smile on her face. In one universe, she made the choice she long dreamed of making.
In this universe, she made the other one.
The Floo took Harry, his friends, and Lady Malfoy to the makeshift command tent the ICW troops had set up about a mile away from Nurmengard Castle. After somehow managing not to get unceremoniously kicked out by the commander, Harry was given what the commander called a sitrep, and turned out to be a status report.
Most of the troops supposed to be guarding the castle had been suborned and/or replaced by Grindelwald over the years, meaning they'd had to get troops from outside to launch an attack. Professor Moody's handpicked attack team had gone gamely marching in and were promptly ripped to shreds. Professor Moody himself had lost his other eye and was one of only a handful of survivors.
They'd brought back useful intelligence, though. The traitorous troops weren't the only people Grindelwald had on his side. He'd assembled a motley crew of scoundrels and hoodlums. Wanted criminals, werewolves, chimeras, and even a team of Muggle snipers firing from the ramparts with firearms. The good news was that the ICW was reasonably confident that they would be able to take care of Grindelwald's forces. The bad news was that they would probably end up taking significant casualties. And even if they could defeat Grindelwald's forces, there was still the Dark Lord himself to worry about. During the war, he'd singlehandedly changed the course of entire battles. He'd accomplished terrifying magical feats using someone else's body; there was no telling what he'd be able to accomplish using his own.
A sensible person, Harry was quite aware, would probably take one look at the terrifying odds before them and leave the situation behind. It wouldn't have been a cowardly act. He and his friends were children. It was not their job to fight evil. But that didn't matter. It hadn't been Harry's job to stop the Philosopher's Stone from being stolen; it hadn't been his job to rescue Ginny and slay the basilisk. He hadn't done it because it was smart, because it decidedly wasn't, or because he thought he could win, because he really, really hadn't had a chance. He'd done it because he was right.
Harry was a hero and he believed that evil should be fought and as long as he drew breath, that would be all there was to it.
"So for your own safety, I'm afraid we're going to have to be detaining you here while seasoned adults handle things," the commander said after giving Harry the briefing. "I understand the urge to get revenge, but Grindelwald is a juggernaut of magical power and you, well, aren't."
Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. I have a counterargument, though. RUN!"
Before any of the ICW troops could stop them, Harry and his friends were running out of the tent and heading towards Nurmengard at top speed. Lady Malfoy followed them, looking absolutely incredulous that she was even bothering. Harry appreciated the support. He certainly felt a lot safer with her around, given how powerful she was and well motivated she was to keep them all alive. Well, Harry and Draco anyway.
"Are all of your plans like this?!" Lady Malfoy demanded as she transfigured her high heels into hiking boots.
"No…" Hermione said unconvincingly.
"How are you people still alive?" Lady Malfoy practically screeched at them. "I do not understand it! Can anyone explain this to me?"
Luna shrugged. "Perhaps someone, like a god or a fanfic writer, is looking down on us and favoring us with their divine presence." They all paused in their frantic running to stare at her. "It's just a theory," she said a trifle sulkily.
Nurmengard loomed ahead. It was very good at that, in Harry's opinion. It was practically built for looming. He wondered, legitimately, if Grindelwald had, when he built the castle, specified to his architect that the castle must be loomworthy. It was small but ominous, all dark brick and towering spires. Harry had only briefly seen a photograph of it in his history textbook, but he'd have recognized it anywhere.
As they got closer to the castle, spells ricocheted all over the place. Ginny missed a curse that caused a nearby tree to turn to ashes by a bare inch. The sounds of spells being cast, various types of screams, and explosions echoed throughout the grounds, occasionally punctuated by gunshots.
The ICW forces were mostly a match for Grindelwald's troops. But occasionally, some of them would spot and target Harry's group. But while Grindelwald's troops had a concerning bloodlust, they were undisciplined and uncoordinated. It was easy for the team to isolate and take them out one by one. While Harry and his friends preferred simple stunning spells, Lady Malfoy of course resorted to more lethal spells, favoring a vicious cutting curse with the incantation Sectumsempra, and, when none of the ICW troops were watching, the Killing Curse. This time around, Harry wasn't especially bothered by Narcissa's ruthlessness. She was doing what had to be done. Besides, Harry had joined the fight to kill Grindelwald. He had no right to complain about his minions getting killed.
It was a slow and laborious process, but inch by inch, Harry's team gained ground and got closer to Nurmengard. He could see the doors to the castle getting closer and closer. More minions poured out of the doors as they neared it, but their number was rapidly decreasing. Grindelwald was running out of troops to throw at the enemy. Harry's heart leapt into his chest. They were winning! They were going to win and the Dark Lord would finally be slain! Harry would be finally, finally able to rest and he'd be happy and he'd be able to build a life with Draco, and then out of nowhere a bullet smashed into Lady Malfoy's chest.
It should have happened in slow motion. That was how it worked in the movies! It should have been a somber moment, with everything slowing down so they could focus on the unthinkable tragedy of his boyfriend's mother, felled by a Muggle bullet of all things. If she died, it would be almost hilarious in the sheer scope of its irony. Lady Malfoy, a magical supremacist, shot down by a Muggle sniper. A supreme planner taken down by something she did not and could not have foreseen.
But instead, the battle raged on and spells arced around them, and Daphne nearly lost an arm to one of them and Lady Malfoy was on the ground, with blood flowing out of her chest. "Healing spell!" Ron shrieked. "Hermione, don't you know a healing spell?!"
"No…I…I'm not a mediwitch! They don't teach this kind of things to fourth years…" Tears were falling from her eyes, but they wouldn't save Lady Malfoy. Nothing would, Harry knew. The wound was mortal.
Lady Malfoy made a feeble move to raise her wand and cast the healing spell, but she was so weak she couldn't even make the movements correctly, and confetti shot out of her wand instead. Harry was filled with a sudden fury at how festive the confetti made the situation. As if a woman who'd gone out of her way to help him, who'd deprogrammed Ron, who'd made him feel safe for one of the first times in his life, wasn't about to die!
"Draco…" Lady Malfoy whispered. "Don't…don't be like me. Be better…better than me. Teach your children…to be better than me…"
"I won't do that, mother," Draco said firmly. "I will teach them to follow your example. To always put family first."
Lady Malfoy had a contented smile on her face upon hearing that. "I love you, Draco," she said for the last and quite possibly first time in her life, and then she was gone. Draco was an orphan now just like Harry.
Draco let out a wail of fury and cast bombardment spells in the direction of the ramparts where the sniper had been firing from. Harry wasn't sure if he hit anyone, though given that no further shots came, he might very well have done so. "No, no, no, NO!" he screamed.
"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry babbled. "I shouldn't have done this! I shouldn't have brought her here! This is all my fault!"
Draco shook his head firmly. "I will not give up on you! I will never give up on you. Ever. This isn't your fault. Grindelwald did this. Do you understand me? Him alone! Not you! Never you."
"He's right, Harry," Hermione promised, for once managing to say those very difficult words without even hesitating for a single second. "We need to keep moving. If we stay here, we're a sitting duck for more snipers and Lady Malfoy died for nothing."
Even though it went against all of Harry's instincts to just leave Lady Malfoy's corpse behind in the snow, somehow looking small and delicate and all the things she wasn't in life, he nonetheless pressed on and opened the door to the entrance hall.
The room inside was scattered with corpses, both those of the ICW troops and Grindelwald's own corpses. The remaining soldiers were continuing to duke it out. Watching from the foot of a small spiral staircase leading up to the highest tower was Grindelwald himself. He looked just like he had back in Dumbledore's mindscape, but the ginger hair was now pure white. He looked regal and aristocratic and ice cold, dressed in a uniform that was very much like the ones the Nazis had used, though it could very well have been the other way around. And, frankly, he was surprisingly composed for the raving lunatic he'd been during their confrontation in the Grand Hall of Hogwarts.
"Harry, my dear child," Grindelwald said in a warm, caring tone that gave Harry the shivers. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't join the party."
"Oh, you know me, Grindelwald," Harry said flippantly. "I never could resist a good party."
"YOU KILLED MY MOTHER!" Draco screamed and rushed towards the Dark Lord, who pulled out a wand and with the barest flick, pinned Draco to the nearest wall, binding him up in thick ropes.
Grindelwald started walking towards Harry. When two ICW troops tried to hit him with Killing Curses, he deftly sidestepped them, tapped his wand to his chin, and breathed fire out of his mouth until they were both incinerated. "Harry, I'm going to make you an offer. Give me your Invisibility Cloak, tell me where the Resurrection Stone is, and you and all your friends will walk out of here alive. Otherwise, you'll die slowly and painfully."
"Yeah, no," Harry said immediately. "Counterproposal: Avada Kedavra."
Before Grindelwald could react, Harry's Killing Curse struck true and hit Grindelwald square in the chest. But instead of dropping dead, the most unexpected thing Harry could think of happened: what looked like sand started pouring out of his body. Before Harry's eyes, sand started pouring more rapidly out of the hole and the body deflated like it was a balloon with the air being let out of it. Which, for all Harry knew, it could very well have been.
"I don't understand," Ron said slowly. "Did we just win or what?"
"I'm afraid not," a voice came from behind them. Albus Dumbledore walked through the room of combatants as if he was out for a stroll in the park, quickly defeating a pair of unshaven hoodlums who foolishly tried to attack him without even bothering to look at them. "That was merely a homunculus, a fake body. Gellert's been trying to figure out how to make one that could imitate Tom, though he never really had much luck. As you can well see."
Harry watched as all of his friends' wands were pointed at Dumbledore. All of them looked on him with suspicion. Harry could understand why they felt that way, but Harry knew in his bones this was the real Dumbledore he was looking at.
"I don't blame you for being suspicious," Dumbledore said, "but I assure you, I've been cleared."
"That's what you'd say if you weren't," Ginny pointed out.
Dumbledore shrugged. "Fair enough, Miss Weasley. If you do not want my assistance, I would acquiesce to standing aside and letting you handle matters, but I feel I must warn you that would be a mistake. Gellert is a formidable adversary, and I have defeated him once before."
"I trust him," Harry announced. Everyone gave some variant of a weary sigh or a rolling of the eyes or some other gesture indicating a lack of faith, and really, it was quite annoying. Hadn't he proved himself to be a responsible, good judge of character? Well, the latter, anyway. Not so much the former.
"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said warmly. "It's an honor to finally be able to meet you for real, and to fight alongside you. Shall we?"
Harry looked back at his friends, who looked at Dumbledore warily. But they must have sensed what Harry sensed, that he was the real thing, and so they reluctantly stepped aside and let Harry follow Dumbledore up the staircase. However, as soon as Harry stepped foot in it, a solid stone wall manifested, trapping him inside. He heard the sounds of muffled explosions as his friends tried to break down the door, to no avail.
"Well, at least you don't have to face down a giant chess game this time," Dumbledore offered with a small smile. Harry scowled at the reminder of the meager defenses for the Philosopher's Stone.
He started to walk up the stairs and then
Harry was standing in front of the grand atrium of the Ministry of Magic, watching as they tore down that ridiculous Fountain of Magical Brethren (wait, since when had he known what it was called?) and put in a much more impressive statue of himself. A statue of me?! No, no, I would look absolutely horrible as a statue.
"Thanks to the intervention of Lord Potter," Minister Bones said, "we have done away with the old traditions bringing down the wizarding world and brought forth a glorious new era." Okay, first off, she's dead. Second of all, what is she talking about. Third, SHE IS DEAD.
Harry pompously walked over to the podium, accompanied by not only Draco, but quite a few boys, including Cedric, Ron, Neville, and Krum. "With Dumbles and his Order of the Fried Chickens gone, my harem and I will bring an era of peace and prosperity to Britain. An era where all are equal atop the pyramid where Muggles are at the bottom." This dialogue is ridiculous! "All who try to stop me, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor…" he went on for at least ten minutes listing titles. "…will be utterly destroyed!"
OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH, Harry thundered in his head and abruptly he was climbing the staircase again.
That's not what you want? You do not want power? You do not want those who pushed you around, humiliated you, to kneel before you? To worship you as a living god?
No, Harry thought slowly and carefully, because sane people don't want that. That is…this is just the most ridiculous fantasy I can possibly think of. I mean, where do I even start? Dumbles? Fried Chickens? Who talks like that? What are we, five?! Also, a harem?! I have enough trouble keeping up with one boyfriend, let alone ten! Also, I'm bi – if I was going to have a harem, which I wouldn't, there'd be girls in it!
There was dead silence for at least twenty seconds, as Harry kept on climbing the stairs. There were so many of them! It was like the damn staircase stretched forever. Then Grindelwald's voice said, Ah, yes, I remember what you want. I remember what you saw in the mirror.
And then with a blink, Harry was back at 4 Privet Drive. But this time, he wasn't in a cupboard under the stairs. And his picture wasn't missing from the wall. Vernon and Petunia and Dudley were there, but they loved him. He could see it in their eyes. Harry ached for that love. He always had, deep down. He remembered reading books and watching movies of loving families and yearning for the love those characters showed so far like it was a need as important as air.
"Oh, Harry," Aunt Petunia said with a smile that looked so alien on her face. "I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of everything you've done. Just stay here with me. You can be happy. We can be a family."
This time, it was tougher to remove himself from the illusion than the last one. A lot tougher. It felt like he was punching a fiery hole in the middle of his chest. But it needed to be done. The illusion of the family before him was just that. An illusion. Harry had a family. He had best friends, and a boyfriend, and honorary siblings and parents, and a godfather, and they loved him, and that was real. They loved him far more than some fake aunt could ever provide him.
"Harry, please," Uncle Vernon begged him. "I'm sorry I treated you like that. I'm sorry I put you in a cupboard under the stairs. Please. Let's start again. Let's be family."
Harry shook his head frantically, tears fogging up his eyes. "No, no, it's not real."
"You don't have to know it's not real," Dudley said. "Not if you don't want to. Everyone you love can be here too."
"Please stay," a voice called out from behind him, and Harry spun around to see Mum and Dad smiling proudly at him. "We love you so much, Harry," Mum went on. "Why would you ever want to return to the real world? A world where my sister and her husband hate you. A world that has done nothing but try to beat you down and ignore everything you've ever wanted. Stay here with us, and you can have it all."
Harry tried his best to memorize every inch of his parents' features. It was the last time he'd see them inside his head while he lived. "My parents, my real parents, told me to fight for what's right. And that's exactly what I'm going to do!"
With a supreme effort of will, he focused on clearing the illusion from his mind and then he was walking up the staircase again. The door to the tower was in sight. Before Grindelwald could get his hooks into Harry's mind again, Grindelwald opened the door and walked into the most grandiose throne room he could think of. Grindelwald, looking like the homunculus downstairs, sat atop the throne, giving an impressive sneer.
"And so you have led my nemesis here, like the pawn you were always meant to be," Grindelwald began.
"I often wondered why you were tormenting me so much," Dumbledore interrupted. "How could a man hate another man so much? It took me a long time to realize that it was not hate you felt, but love. You were punishing me, Gellert, because you loved me, and I turned away from you. I blame myself for your reign of terror, you know. I always have. If I had been firmer, if I had not been as weak, then who knows how many people would have suffered?"
He sighed deeply. "But the truth is, Gellert, you chose this path. You chose evil and I chose good, and there was no other way this could have ended."
Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Grindelwald's head. "Do you think you have what it takes, Harry?" Grindelwald whispered. "Do you think you can look into my eyes and end my life? You may have heard one of my favorite sayings."
"For the greater good?" Harry said, trying to keep a tremor out of his voice, because Grindelwald's words were starting to get to him.
"Oh, yes, that is my favorite, but I have another one I like. Will we die, just a little? You see, until you have metaphorically died and been reborn like the phoenix I used to have under my thrall, until you have given everything you are to a cause, then you are nothing. The more we devote ourselves, the more our old selves die, the stronger we become. Are you willing to die, just a little, Harry?"
Harry blinked several times. "That made no sense at all."
"Then allow me to enlighten you," Grindelwald said with a serene smile. "CRUCIO!"
It was like no feeling Harry could ever even describe. The best he could describe was that knives were stabbing away at every square inch of his flesh, and then that flesh was being soaked in acid, and then it was being eaten by spiders for an encore. And this was really a massive understatement, in his opinion. There was a damn good reason the curse was Unforgivable. Harry wasn't exactly left in a forgiving mood, for one.
And then, as sudden as the pain started, it stopped like it had never happened. "I want the Deathly Hollows, Harry," Grindelwald snarled. "GIVE THEM TO ME!"
"I don't know what they are!"
Dumbledore stepped forward, a knowing glint in his eyes. Not a twinkle, just a glint. "Harry, do you know what Gellert's favorite game was?"
"No, strangely enough, I missed out on that lesson in history class."
"It was poker," Dumbledore went on. "Because he was superlative at bluffing."
Dumbledore waved his wand and the ostentatious throne room before them vanished. In its place was a room that looked identical to an ordinary Muggle hospital room. In a bed, hooked up to a respirator, was the oldest man Harry had ever seen in his life. Ancient seemed an insufficient word for him, not when there were words like decrepit and rotting competing for one's attention. He looked far older than Dumbledore. Harry had literally seen skeletons that were livelier than Gellert Grindelwald.
At first, Harry supposed this was yet another bluff, a way to lull Harry into a sense of complacency. But Grindelwald would never do that. A man of his towering ego would never allow himself to look this weak. This was the true Dark Lord. An almost walking corpse. The man behind the curtain.
"Well, you've certainly looked better," Dumbledore said, and although his voice was light, there was pain in his eyes.
"Please, Harry," Grindelwald begged. "You've seen what I can do as weak as I am now. Just think how much stronger I'll be when I'm at full strength! I can bring your parents back! Give you their love!"
Harry burst out laughing. "Oh, come on! You think I'm going to listen to you? You can't even stand!"
Grindelwald tried to draw his wand and lift it, but he couldn't even manage that before it toppled out of his unresisting hands. "So what is it to be? Will you execute an unarmed old man in cold blood, Harry?"
Harry had to admit he did not like the idea very much. Killing Grindelwald had seemed a much more attractive proposition when the two of them were on an equal footing. It would be just shameful to kill an old man on his deathbed.
But he wasn't the only person in the room. Dumbledore stepped forward, his face sad but resolute. "I should have killed you all those years ago," Dumbledore said. "Because I didn't, so many people suffered. Harry suffered as no one ever should. Do you know the most ironic thing, Gellert? You could have truly united the Hollows if you pursued a path of good. If you had sought out Voldemort's Horcruxes, you would have found the Resurrection Stone. But because you chose violence and folly and deceit, it was out of your hands before you even knew it."
"Just stop your blabbering and kill me already," Grindelwald snarled. "I will never regret anything! Everything I have done is for the greater good!"
"Far be it from me to deny an old man's last request," Dumbledore said. He pointed the Elder Wand at Gellert Grindelwald's heart, and said those two fateful words, and that was the end of the Dark Lord. The EKG machine he was hooked up to emitted a continuous tone. Dumbledore looked slightly nonplussed.
Harry looked over at the ground, shame welling in him for not having the courage to do what was necessary. "Oh, Harry, this is not your fault," Dumbledore said immediately, as if reading his mind. "It was Gellert and Gellert's fault alone."
Harry practically stumbled down the staircase. With Grindelwald's death, the wall he'd magically placed there was gone. Harry walked over to Draco, who seemed to know exactly what had happened in the tower. "He did it," Harry muttered. "I couldn't."
"And that's a good thing, Harry," Draco said firmly. "You're a good person. That's what matters in the end."
"So that's it?" Daphne asked. "Grindelwald is dead, there's no more twists, the threat is neutralized?"
"Well, so long as we get home before Mum finds out," Ron joked.
As if on cue, the door to the castle slammed open and Mrs. Weasley came charging in with Sirius by her side. "You are so grounded, young man!" both of them said in stereo, the former to Ron and the latter to Harry. Harry let out a groan of frustration.