Chapter 18: Harry's Chariot
In a valley bathed by the light of the moon, in the shadow of Hogwarts, a legend breathed his last.
Under the eyes of a country, a boy died before his body could hit the ground.
Down the hill, hundreds cheered. Celebrating the end of a symbol.
At the foot of the castle, the scant remnants of those who would stand against the tide shed their tears for a martyr, bracing themselves for what was to come.
Standing before them, unwavering in the face of an inexorable fate, was the man who had taught them; Who had guided them through their darker hours since before their birth and who would now see them die.
Ignoring the jeers and taunts of his greatest failure, Dumbledore watched the demise of another.
"Harry ... I'm sorry."
Tearing his gaze from the body of a man who had given up more than anyone could imagine, Dumbledore thrust his wand to the sky, firing a beam of light that pierced the very heavens.
"It's over Tom."
The late spring air cooled noticeably, clouds forming and swirling around the pillar of light as the wind picked up.
"No more hiding behind your servants."
The jeers and cheers turned to restlessness as the clouds darkened and grew, bringing with them the rolling thunder.
"No more coming back."
Voldemort peered at the whirlpool of clouds and lightning, barely making out a vast, dark shape descending above the castle, hidden amongst the overcast.
"This ends tonight."
"Shields are holding re-entry." Cho announced. "Correcting course to stop fifteen hundred above the castle."
"Allied forces have formed a perimeter more than two kilometres from the castle's walls. The invading force is ... It's massive." Malcolm Baddock read out the ship's sensor data. "I'm even reading some giants down there."
"They brought everyone then. Good."
Standing before the great vaulted windows, Ron looked upon the battlefield sprawling below them. Armies facing each other in a place that had always felt so removed from conflict.
Like all those he had trained, Ron had shed his fair share of blood in this war. He had fought and bleed from the Ministry debacle to the massacre at Glasgow, mere hours ago.
He had stood by Harry as they faced Trolls, Acromantulas and murderous lunatics.
And yet, in all this time, Ron had never taken a life.
Stunning hex, flash grenades, a heavy blow to the head ... He had always found a way to minimise casualties.
This war was already costing them so much and he had no wish to let it stain his soul with murder. To let it turn him into the monsters they were facing.
Regrettably, life did not care for his wishes, and the present circumstances had forced their hand.
The reality of what he was about to do weighed heavily on him, as did the knowledge that this was something he had chosen to do.
They had chosen to do the right thing. Not something that would make it easy to sleep at night or that they would ever do again if given the choice, but the right thing nonetheless.
And he was not alone in this feeling.
"Dial down weapons power to five per cent and start picking targets. Keep it to short bursts and prioritise those going for the barricade, but keep your aim clear off the castle and the front line"
Across the bridge, he could see Marietta and Cho share nervous glances while Malcolm trembled in his seat and Katie stared straight ahead, her jaw set in apprehension as she moved the command stone of the weapons console.
Yet, ultimately, as the new person in charge, the responsibility fell to him.
This war could not be allowed to continue. They needed to put an end to the threat, once and for all. To do all they could against those who, for all intents and purposes, had killed his dad and fractured his family.
He had already failed too many times.
He had not been there for Ginny as she poured her heart and life to a madman in a desperate search for comfort.
He had failed to reach her when she disappeared, digging in the dark while Harry faced a Basilisk alone to save her.
He had been so busy playing around on the ship that he let his father down, leaving him trapped in a never-ending sleep.
He had let his childish resentment against Percy drive a wedge between them, isolating him and leaving him to die far from his family.
No more.
With a single word, he would keep them safe. Keep them all safe.
All but one.
Ron clenched his fist tightly, feeling his nails drawing blood as he kept looking down on the ground below, searching for something he did not want to see.
In chess, every piece had a role. You developed them in a way where they could cover each other and benefit from their unique traits. You followed strategies and adapted in response to the enemy's. Yet sometimes ... sometimes, a sacrifice was necessary.
It seemed cruel, sending pieces to die, taking the enemies with them to open the way for those who followed. But that's how it worked. That's how you won.
He hated this plan with every fibre of his being, but Harry had entrusted him with a mission. A chance to end the war once and for all. To make things right for everyone.
For his family.
For the crew.
But not for Harry.
"Fire."
A rain of blue flames burst from the maelstrom of clouds, bringing down death and chaos upon the invaders. Large swathes of the grounds were blown away in a pandemonium of scorched earth and bodies as the Death Eaters and their allies broke ranks. Some among them tried to apparate away and came crashing down on the ground, denied by Hogwarts' wards.
For a brief moment, Dumbledore stood awed and terrified as he beheld the destruction his students could call down on a whim. He had heeded Harry's dire warnings, entrenching their side near the castle, yet seeing it with his own eyes...
"Storm the barricade, you fools! They will not fire upon their own!"
Voldemort's orders pierced the tumult and brought more than Dumbledore back to reality, starting a mad rush toward the castle. As spells filled the air, adding to the chaos, the flames raining from the sky became rarer and more precise, taking out many who came too close to the barricade.
One of the fireballs attempted to intercept Voldemort as he spearheaded the assault and with a large motion, the Dark Lord sent it crashing upon the castle wall, showering the defenders with rubble.
With a wide swish of his wand, Dumbledore turned the larger wall fragments into eagles who came bearing down on the Death Eaters following after Voldemort.
And with a crash of spells, the Titans met, engaging in a duel none dared to approach in fear of being caught in the crossfire.
Instead, the followers of the Dark Lord crashed upon the barricade like a wave against a cliff, its defenders keeping them at bay with spells and halberds while Amelia and her Aurors conjured Patronus to stave off the Dementors.
On the outskirts of the battle, Death Eaters isolated by the chaos disappeared in the night. In the upturned soil, the footprints of their invisible opponent going off in search of new prey were the only clue as to their fate.
Free from their paddock, a herd of Hyppogriffs took to the skies, engaging in a deadly dance with the vampires and a group of Aurors on brooms. The hybrid creatures would have been quickly overrun were it not for Madam Hooch leading a team of professional Quidditch players to their help, throwing bludgers and spells into their adversaries.
With the enemy's air support otherwise occupied, six invisible fighters swooped across the battlefield, performing strafing runs on Werewolves and other dangerous groups before they could reach the barricade.
Despite most of their brethren having perished in the first strike, several Giants reached the barricade, tearing huge chunks of it with their bare hands. While over a dozen animated armours climbed one of them, stabbing its hide with their halberds until it fell, Hagrid and his half-brother Grawp wrestled another, tripping him into the lake. As he struggled in the shallows, countless webbed hands and thick tentacles grabbed his limbs, dragging him into the depths.
Amidst invaders' broken ranks, large metallic eggs were dropped, eliciting surprise and caution when the spells they cast to destroy them proved ineffective. Those feelings turned to incredulity and fear when the eggs hatched and mechanical chickens sporting bowler hats ran across the battlefield, clucking and throwing egg-shaped grenades that took out dozens in explosions of electricity.
Revelling in the chaos, Peeves plunged head-first into the invading army, leaving fireworks and dungbombs in his wake. Those who tried to stop him found themselves tied up by their own robes, making them an easy target for the arrows of the Centaurs hidden on the edge of the forest.
Voldemort had sought to conquer a country and it was fighting back.
In a place both far and close to the battle, Harry faced his double on Requirement's bridge, squinting to discern his familiar features in the dim light.
"Who are you?"
"Do I need to spell it out?" The duplicate—no, the Horcrux—raised an eyebrow above a deep red eye. "Come on, Harry, I know you. You're not that dumb."
"Right..." Harry gazed around the empty bridge, keeping his duplicate in his line of sight. "And this is?"
"Your mind, the afterlife, another plane of existence ... Your guess is as good as mine." The Horcrux shrugged. "Despite my research on the nature of souls, I never bothered with all this spiritual stuff."
"You're ... Not what I expected."
"And what did you expect? Voldemort?"
"Well ... yes? Or a ghost. These Horcruses aren't really consistent."
"I am him. Just as I am you. Two souls cannot inhabit the somebody for as long as ours did without bleeding out into each other."
"Right. Like how I can speak parseltongue or feel when he's close."
"Precisely. As I said, you aren't that dumb." The Horcrux smiled, his tone condescending. "For a year, you have spent your days far from Earth, weakening the bond that links me to the main part of my soul. While this isolation shielded you from his influence, it also strengthened me."
"So these headaches I was having on Earth..."
"The efforts of the main part of my soul to reach into your mind, to cloud your judgement and bring you to him I assume. I always had a fondness for this type of underhanded plan." The Horcrux rolled his eyes. "Soon enough, I awoke, fully conscious yet too weak to break free from the shackles that locked me in the deepest reaches of your mind."
Despite his apparent love for hearing himself talk—a trait that reassured Harry of how unalike they truly were—the Horcrux was growing agitated, pacing around the bridge without making a sound. Never letting it leave his sight, Harry looked around once more, searching for something—anything—that could help.
Like the rest of the ship, the consoles were dead, lacking even the command stones necessary to operate them. The cold embers of his hope flared anew, however, when he saw a screen burst to life, until his brain caught up with the rest of his senses.
Where only a voice had filled the room, he could now hear footsteps.
"So I waited. Watching, Learning. Bidding my time until I grew strong enough to touch your mind. To whisper in your subconscious." The condescending smile turned predatory. "And you made it so easy. Isolating yourself, pushing your friends away and refusing to act while the world crumbled around you ... The more desperate you grew, the stronger I became."
The sensor and weapon consoles came to life, their command stones appearing on their panels, bringing some more light into the room. Harry took a step back, a cold feeling seizing his heart as the Horcrux opened and closed his hand as it talked, testing his grip.
"When the Macmillan boy died, I thought I had finally broken you. The smallest nudge would have pushed you over the edge. And yet, you managed to claw your way back, pushing me away." He looked at Harry again, a fire now burning behind his red irises. "Given enough time, I would have worn you out again, taking control once and for all. However, you had the wonderful idea of committing suicide at the hands of my other self, clearing the way for my takeover. Had I known you were so eager to die, I would have made myself known far sooner."
Every console on the bridge was now active, the entire room lighting up and the floor under his feet trembling ever so slightly, the ship coming to life as he felt his own slip away.
"Truly, I must thank you. While you have been annoyingly defiant, you have managed to do quite well for yourself. Building yourself a small empire in the stars. And now, I will be taking it all while you fade into nothingness."
His whole body was stiff and cold, barely responding to his will. He opened his mouth to talk, to shout a rebuttal, yet no sound passed his lips.
"You don't even realise the potential of what you found. You squander it by playing like a child with a fancy new toy while you could destroy all that stands in your path and conquer this galaxy." The Horcrux looked down on Harry as he fell to his knees. "But do not fret. I will take great care of it."
Dumbledore and Voldemort were locked in their duel, exchanging spells and turning the other's attack against him. Neither of them holding anything back. The brutality of their fight had dug part of the hill into an arena, outside of which the battle raged and the fire kept raining down from the heavens.
His robes torn and his arm hanging limply by his side, Dumbledore twisted his wand and brought it forward, charming the earth to rise and meld into hands of stones that flew toward Voldemort. The elder wand proved difficult to wield when beset by a curse-ridden body and exhaustion, yet his efforts had not proven futile.
Voldemort destroyed all but two of the hands, which grasped his forearms tightly, spreading them far apart and holding them in place. The dark lord did not fare much better than Dumbledore did, the battle having taken its toll of flesh and magic from him.
Dumbledore brought his wand to his lips and, exhaling softly, turned it in a spiral motion as he pointed it back at Voldemort, creating an icy wind that froze everything in its path solid.
With a cry of rage, Voldemort freed himself, the stone hands exploding under his wrath. His wand slashed the air, conjuring a large metal snake that coiled itself around him, shielding him from the freezing wind. When it had passed, the metal vanished and Voldemort broke the ice, banishing its shards toward Dumbledore before he could react.
Dumbledore fell to his knees, his wand falling to the ground and rolling away from his bloodied and broken body.
Serenely, Voldemort closed the distance, grinning despite his injuries.
"And so the mighty falls. Broken and alone." He picked up the wand of his fallen foe, jubilating. "Like Potter, you will-" His red eyes grew wide as he discovered a small symbol, engraved on the handle. A circle inside a triangle, both bisected by a vertical line. "Of course..." Voldemort caressed the knobby wand, almost reverently. "You had it all along."
Dumbledore could only watch as Voldemort raised the elder wand to the sky, summoning a colossal bolt of lightning toward the dark shape hiding in the clouds.
"Shields are failing! Systems are shutting down all over!"
"We've just lost weapons!"
The ship shook under their feet and the consoles spat sparks as they heard explosions in the distance. The screen monitoring the sensor feeds burst up in flames, singeing Malcolm as he backed away from the now dead console.
"Damn it!" Ron brought his fist down on the window's arch. "Get us back in orbit. There's nothing else we can do here."
Wasting no time, Cho and Marietta moved the stones on their respective consoles.
Groaning and shaking, the ship rose away from the battlefield and Ron watched the castle and its defenders grow smaller until they disappeared under the cloud layer.
The dust on the battlefield settled as all witnessed the lightning disappear and the clouds part, bringing about the end of the fire rain.
With an almost nonchalant swish of his new wand, Voldemort engulfed the remains of the barricade in cursed flames, turning a number of its defenders to ashes with it as the rest fell back to the castle.
Dark blood tinted the lake as a giant emerged from the depths, a severed tentacle in its grip. Hyppogriffs and broken brooms crashed all around him, out-manoeuvered by the Vampires.
At the edge of the forest, the Centaurs retreated under the assault of the Dementors, leaving the soulless bodies of their own at the mercy of the Werewolves.
In the arena their duel had carved, Voldemort looked down at the broken form of the old man who had been a thorn in his side for the better part of a century. He had envisioned this moment for so long. Dreamed of this day over and over.
And now. Finally. He would have his revenge.
Tears ran freely from Dumbledore's eyes, rolling down his face and losing themselves in his long white beard, smeared with dirt and blood.
"Harry ... I'm so sorry..."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and Voldemort brought up his wand, determined not to let the chance to kill him himself slip away.
Yet, the Dark Lord stopped, his eyes going wide as he took a step back.
Dumbledore's entire body glowed a pure, blinding white light, his robes and spectacles falling to the ground as he rose in the air and, sent off by the distant cry of a Phoenix, disappeared.
While Harry struggled to even stay upright, the Horcrux walked around the bridge, inspecting the consoles.
"All this power in the palm of your hand." He picked up a command stone, weighing it in his hand. "And to think you used it for joyrides ... Pitiful."
He threw the stone aside, walking back to Harry.
"I have watched you for so long, even before I awoke. I watched you grow up, alone and insecure. I watched you defy me at every turn, delaying my return. I watched you find this ship and make it yours. And yet..."
Seizing Harry by the jaw, the Horcrux forced him to look up at him.
"I never understood you."
Gathering his strength, Harry grabbed the Horcrux's wrist in an attempt to push him away.
"Yes, this. Why do you keep resisting? I could understand if you did not wish to die, but you willingly walked to your death! So why?" He grabbed Harry's hand, forcing him to let go as he leaned forward, searching for an answer in Harry's expression. "Why do you keep fighting for these vermins?"
"Because they're worth fighting for."
Harry grabbed the Horcrux's arm.
"And I won't let you pervert our dream."
Harry spun, taking the Horcrux with him as he apparated away.
They appeared outside the ship and Harry tightened his grip as gravity took hold. Beneath them, Earth grew larger and larger as they picked up speed, falling to their death.
"You can't do this!"
"Watch me."
The Horcrux looked at him in fear, wrestling against him to try and free himself.
"Idiot! You'll kill us both!"
"Doesn't matter. We're riding this to the end."
Fuelled by desperation, the Horcrux struggled against his grasp. Gritting his teeth and grabbing on tighter, Harry held firm, even as the heat became untenable, their clothes and flesh burning away.
Not wishing to see his own face looking up at him in terror as it burned, Harry closed his eyes and, for the second time, welcomed his end...
Yet, even with his eyes closed he could see the light, brighter than the sun as it engulfed the world, taking him in its warm embrace.
For once, Harry did not wake up to pain when he had expected it.
And yet, this lack of any pain seemed the most alien feeling in the world when one did not expect to wake up at all.
He breathed in, regretting it instantly as he took in the smell of charred flesh.
Covering his nose, Harry pushed himself up, throwing off the upturned earth that had buried his lower half.
Everywhere around him, bodies littered the ground. From Giants to Death Eaters, the grounds were covered in them.
This was a sight he had been glad he would not have to see.
And yet, here he was.
He picked up his wand, unsure of what to do with it.
He should be dead.
More than that, he had died. He was sure of it.
Harry passed a hand over his scar, staring at it as it came back covered in blood.
Was the Horcrux ... gone?
But why wasn't he dead too?
Had it been that light at the end?
But why? How?
Harry wiped the blood away, conjuring water to clean his face and clear his mind.
It did not matter.
If he was here and the Horcrux was gone...
He could not find the world to describe the relief flooding through his veins, the giddiness that brought a smile to his lips nor the hope soaring in his heart.
The thunder of explosions and the roar of flames echoed in the distance, nipping his joy in the bud.
Looking up, all he could see was a sea of stars surrounding the full moon.
The ship was gone, the barricade had fallen and the Death Eaters were storming the castle.
This was no time to celebrate.
He started running, jumping over corpses and craters.
Scores of Death Eaters, one giant, a swarm of Dementors and, if the flames were any indication, Voldemort was still around.
No ship, no suit, no apparition and no back-up.
He could do this.
Passing the remains of the barricade, Harry came in sight of the stragglers, looting and resting while the rest of their ilk massed at the castle's door.
His wand whipped the air and he kept running, three more bodies hitting the ground before they could understand what was happening.
The giant limped toward the door, winding his fist up to strike like a colossal battering ram. Dementors filled the air around him, drifting around impatiently while the Death Eaters massed at his feet.
As he ran, Harry grabbed a halberd stuck in the ground next to the remains of its armour. Holding it in front of him, he set his wand flat on the hilt and thrust forward. The weapon burst into the air like a rocket, digging itself deep into the base of the giant's skull.
The hulking corpse collapsed, crushing several Death Eaters as it fell and bringing upon Harry the attention of the rest.
The horde of dementors swooped how on him with a hundred hungry wails, swarming from all sides until a large stag of light burst forth, breaking their assault as they fled.
The element of surprise now spent, Harry stood alone, a hundred wands coming up between him and the castle.
"How?"
The sea of dark robes parted, making way for a battered Voldemort. The battle had not been kind to him, his pale skin marred by cuts and bruises while every step he took tinted his hateful scowl with pain.
"How can you be alive? What will it take for you to stay dead?"
"How about we find out?"
Harry assumed a duelling stance, adrenaline pumping in his veins and heart beating in his ears.
He had held his own against Voldemort before stepping into the killing curse. Now that he was injured and tired, he had a chance to take him down.
A chance was all he needed.
"Insolent whelp."
Voldemort's hand was a blur of motions, curses rushing toward Harry faster than he could see them.
Jumping to the side, he conjured a shield, only to see it shatter a second later as a curse ploughed through it.
The next threw him to the ground, crying out in agony as every bone in his left arm imploded.
"Did you truly think you could face Lord Voldemort?"
Thick, thorny vines grew from the earth, coiling themselves around Harry's wrists and ankles, drawing blood and pinning him down.
"I do not know what trick you used to survive, but it does not matter."
Struggling against the vines only resulted in them digging deeper into his flesh. Looking to the side through his askew glasses, Harry saw his wand, lost in the dirt and out of reach.
"We'll just have to use more ... radical means."
"That would be a mistake."
If there was one thing he knew about Voldemort, it was that he loved to hear himself talk. As long as he did, he would keep him alive, buying him the time to look around, searching for a way to free himself.
"Do you intend to barter for your life?" Voldemort walked up to him, towering over him like a Dementor over its prey. "After all of this?"
"Kill me, and you lose your Horcruxes."
Voldemort paused, his wand twitching in his hand.
"You lie. You would have destroyed them the moment they came into your possession."
"We did. Except for the ring and the diadem." Harry lied through his teeth, his gaze focused on the castle behind Voldemort. "They were too valuable to destroy without trying to save them."
"Where?" Voldemort scowled. "Where did you hide them?"
"Let those in the castle go and I'll show you."
Voldemort twisted his wand and a new vine sprouted, coiling around Harry's throat as the others tightened their grasp, eliciting a cry of pain from him.
"Do you take me for a fool? I know Dumbledore. He would not be foolish enough to take such a risk."
"I asked him to!"
The vines loosened, leaving Harry struggling to breathe.
"And why would he listen to you? A pampered brat clinging to the accomplishments of others?"
"Because he's not you." Despite the pain, despite Voldemort watching him closely, Harry could not stop himself from smiling. "That's the difference between us, Tom. We have friends we can trust."
A dozen spells materialized out of thin air, converging on Voldemort.
Twisting in a blur, the dark lord intercepted most of them and winced in pain as he whipped his wand in a great circle.
The vines restraining Harry fell to the ground, cut to shreds as invisible hands dragged him away and helped him back up.
A wave of shimmering light washed over the battlefield, revealing fourteen familiar silhouettes, their damaged and scorched armours crackling with electricity as they became visible.
Surrounded, Voldemort looked around him, wand at the ready as he appraised the situation, searching for an opening. For a brief moment, he dared to look above his shoulder, discovering his remaining followers dead at the feet of the castle's defenders.
"So it was you." His glare came down upon Harry again, rage and understanding fuelling his voice as he took in the strange armours of those holding him up and giving him back his wand. "It was you. You're the one responsible for this."
"We all were." Harry shook his head, raising his wand to join those of his friends. "Now go to hell. The rest of you is already waiting."
A barrage of spells came crashing down upon Voldemort, deflected by his shield or intercepted by the Dark Lord's own.
"I am Lord Voldemort!"
The ground exploded, sending a few of his assailants flying.
"I have conquered Death itself!"
So hurried he was to deflect a curse that another hit his unguarded back.
"You will—"
His voice died as he fell to his knees, a gaping hole in his throat.
His red eyes were locked with Harry's, his face contorted in pain and hate.
A trembling hand brought up a familiar knobby wand before its feeble grasp faltered, letting it fall to the ground.
And, finally, Tom Riddle breathed his last.