Author's note: This last chapter of Part II takes place two months after the events of Chapter 11. Please read and review. This story will continue in Part III-tentatively to be titled "NO PLACE THAT FAR".
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Life's so fragile and love's so pure
We can't hold on but we try
We watch how quickly it disappears
And we never know why"
(Goodbye My Friend by Linda Rondstadt)
Two months later…
August 21st, 1996
Molly Weasley had laundered and ironed Harry's white shirt, dress pants and dress robes. She'd placed the items on his cot while he'd been in the shower. Clad in only his boxer shorts, Harry sat on the edge of the cot in Ron's bedroom.
He'd been staying here since it had happened. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had insisted. He hadn't protested. Truth be told, he didn't really care where he was.
The memorial service was to be held that afternoon on the Hogwarts grounds. Harry honestly had no idea how he would be expected to make it through this. This was too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen until they were all old and gray.
It had happened a week ago, but the memories of it and the pain from it were still so fresh. In those seven days, he'd experienced every human emotion---he'd cried, he'd been angry, he'd felt guilty. Most of all he felt like a hypocrite. He shouldn't be the one sitting here on this bed. He shouldn't be the one breathing, the one who got out of bed each morning. It should have been him that paid the ultimate price. If he could have traded places, he gladly would have been the one who died. He was the reason that their life was cut short. In the aftermath, he'd found Professor McGonagall and begged her to let him use a time turner to prevent what had happened. McGonagall had gently refused. He'd railed at her, but she'd stood firm.
As he got up from the cot, he heard the sounds of activity downstairs. He couldn't make out what the people were saying, but he definitely heard the muffled sounds of people talking. He could smell the fresh muffins and pastries that Mrs. Weasley had baked. She'd pretty much been cooking nonstop since it happened. Ginny had said it was her way of dealing with her grief. Doing it made her feel useful, Mrs. Weasley said.
The Burrow had been uncharacteristically quiet the past few days. This was even more incredible, given that all the Weasley children had come home after the tragedy. Of course, the gravity of the situation had something to do with it, but Harry also suspected it had something to do with him, as well. Out of all of them, he was the one who was taking it the hardest. Yes, everyone was present and accounted for, with one notable exception.
Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror and couldn't help thinking that he actually looked as bad as he felt. His face was pallid and peaked and he had dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept or ate much in the past few days. He hadn't felt like eating and every time he slept, he would hear the screams and see the horrible events occur and know that there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it.
He picked up the comb on the dresser and began to comb through his wet hair. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of a framed picture of himself, Ron and Hermione. Harry remembered the day that photo had been taken. It had been sometime during first year. They'd decided to study down by the lake on one of the warmer afternoons and Lavender Brown, who'd just received a new camera offered to take their photograph. He looked at the three children in the photograph and marveled at how carefree and happy they looked. They had no idea what tragedy and horror lay ahead. The Hermione in the photograph was beaming up at him and waving her hands enthusiastically at him. The Ron in the photograph was playfully punching Harry in the arm and sticking out his tongue at Hermione behind her back. Hermione finally caught sight of Ron and rolled her eyes and exchanged a look with the Harry in the photograph before bursting out into a fit of giggles.
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes as he looked longingly at the picture. Things would never be like that again. He took the framed photo in his hands and carried it with him over to the cot. He thought again of that day when his whole life had fallen apart. Looking back on it now, he should have known that things were too good to be true. Something had to happen to screw it all up. Things had been going too well for too long a time. It was only a matter of time before something came along and upset the balance. Something definitely had.
Flashback
August 14, 1996
After spending an unusually uneventful two weeks with the Dursleys, Harry had arrived back at Hogwarts to begin his extensive training for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'd been there for nearly two months and now felt as if he was actually accomplishing something. He actually was beginning to think that if and when Voldemort made his ultimate move, he'd be ready.
The days were spent pretty much the same. He spent the mornings helping Hagrid with his groundskeeping duties. The afternoons were spent with Lupin undergoing training in different spells, counter spells, defensive tactics and drills. The evenings were the worst part of it as he had to continue his Occlumency lessons with Snape. Dumbledore had sat in on a few of the lessons, which had helped somewhat with Snape's demeanor toward Harry, but not much.
He'd been able to correspond with Hermione much more regularly than he'd expected to. She'd had an exciting summer, but told him she'd missed him more than he'd ever know. She'd spent most of her summer with Kit, enjoying going to baseball games and even helping out in her parents' dental practice by answering phones and doing paperwork. She, too, was counting down the days until they'd be back together.
The letters were nice, but he'd missed her more than he ever imagined possible. He was happy that the summer had gone smoothly. No sightings of Voldemort had been reported. Lupin told Harry not to put too much credence on that, as it more than likely meant that Voldemort was up to something big. Still, Harry couldn't help feeling excited at the prospect of beginning his seventh and final year at Hogwarts.
The day that everything changed started out as they normally did. He woke sometime after 7 in the morning and quickly showered and dressed before heading down to Hagrid's Hut.
Harry found Hagrid sitting on the steps of his Hut, a plate of toast and marmalade at his feet.
"Mornin', 'arry," Hagrid said, smiling at him. "Take a seat and grab yourself some breakfast."
"Thanks," Harry said, taking a seat on the bottom step. He helped himself to some food.
"I can't believe you lot will be startin' your last year soon," Hagrid said. "Seems like just yesterday I was collecting you from those 'orrible Muggles and bringin' you to Diagon Alley."
Harry smiled.
"Now, look at ya," Hagrid said, beaming at him. "Your mum and dad would be so proud of ya, they would."
Harry's cheeks turned a little red.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said. "For all that you did for me, I mean. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I'd ever have come here."
"Codswallop," Hagrid said. "You would have been here, Harry. Your name was down since you were born."
"Well, if it hadn't been for you, Hagrid, I would never have known about any of this," Harry said. "You were the first real friend I had."
Harry gave his friend a hug and Hagrid laughed.
"Well, I hear congratulations are in order," Hagrid said, later when they were walking toward the school gardens. They were going to put out some flesh-eating slug repellent on the school cabbages.
"For what?" Harry asked.
"For you being named Head Boy and 'ermione being named Head Girl," Hagrid said. "When did Dumbledore tell you?"
"A couple of days ago," Harry admitted. "I reckon Hermione is over the moon about this."
Hagrid laughed. "Too right, she is. She ruddy well should be! That badge was made for her! Cleverest witch this school has ever seen, I'd reckon."
"I know," Harry said proudly. "I just wish I could have seen her face when she got the letter! She'd never tell you she expected it, but I know she did."
Hagrid laughed.
"What?" Harry asked, helping Hagrid with the canisters of repellent.
"I always knew about you two," Hagrid said. "Knew that it would be a matter of time before you wised up."
"Yeah, well, I wish you would have clued me in a little sooner," Harry said. "I wouldn't have wasted so much time."
"Well, I think it 'appened at the right time for ya two," Hagrid said. "It happened just like it was 'spose too."
"I think so, too," Harry said. "Well, we better finish this up. I've got to meet Lupin in 20 minutes."
_____ _________________________________________________________
After Harry's lesson with Lupin, he'd gone up to his room to take a nap. To his surprise, he found a package sitting on his bed. He wondered who it could possibly be from. There was no return address on the package or any writing of any kind at all.
He took a seat on the bed and began to unwrap the package. Inside was a plain copper bowl. A letter was taped to the bowl. An uneasy feeling came over Harry as he pulled the letter off the bowl.
His hands were shaking a little as he unfolded the letter and began to read. This is what the letter said:
Potter:
Heart.
Friend.
Family.
Which one will you choose? Choose wisely. This bowl is a portkey. You must come alone. If you tell anyone of this letter or bring anyone with you, you will lose all three. Be smart, Potter. Be smart.
Harry read the letter over and over again. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Heart. Friend. Family. It couldn't be possible, could it? Hermione was safe and sound in America? How could Voldemort have gotten to her? He felt stupid for thinking that. He was talking about one of the most powerful wizards in the world. It wasn't as if something as minute as geography would stop him.
So, there you had it. Voldemort obviously had Hermione. Friend---well, that had to mean Ron, Harry thought. Family? Voldemort wouldn't have taken one of the Dursleys---they didn't mean anything to Harry.
He tried to focus and think rationally. The last time something like this had happened, he'd gone off to the Department of Mysteries after Voldemort had banked on him wanting to play the hero. This could very well be the same exact thing. What if it wasn't, though? Lupin had said that Voldemort's long period of hiding probably meant he was planning something big. This was certainly big, if it was what he thought it was.
If he ignored this, and Voldemort really had Hermione, Ron and some unknown person, what would happen? Life obviously meant nothing to Voldemort. He wouldn't hesitate to kill them.
There was no other choice. He had to do this. He took his wand and placed it in his right hand. With his left hand, he grabbed hold of the copper bowl.
It happened immediately. He felt that familiar sensation of being jerked forward. At first everything was dark and then within seconds, he saw a flash and whirlwind of colors. All he heard was the sound of the violent wind. Before he knew what was happening, he hit the ground. He dusted himself off and picked his wand up from off the floor. He looked around. He seemed to be in some sort of house.
It all seemed vaguely familiar. He was suddenly hit by a violent pain in his forehead. His scar felt like it was burning. He tried to shake off the pain, but it was so intense. He knew exactly what this meant.
The floor was wooden and creaked with every step Harry took. The house was old and dusty and looked as if it hadn't been taken well care of. The curtains were drawn. There was a terrible odor to the place---it smelled of decay and rot. Harry's nose scrunched up as he took in the horrible scent.
Harry walked down the corridor and at the end of the passage, a door stood ajar. A flickering light shone through the gap. Harry took a couple of steps closer and grasped his wand tighter in his hand. With each step, he looked left and right, ready for whatever came at him. As he moved closer to the door, the pain on his forehead intensified. Harry tried to concentrate.
When he finally opened the door, he saw at once that Voldemort was sitting in the middle of a very large room, surrounded by lights, from candles and lanterns. The light was nearly blinding. He was draped in a black cloak, his skin pale and ghostly and his eyes as red and menacing as ever. He smiled as he saw Harry come through the door.
"How nice of you to come," Voldemort hissed. "Welcome to my home. Well, if I'm being honest this hasn't been my home in some time, but I feel it should all end for you where it all began for me."
Harry had no idea what he was on about. He just gripped his hand tighter around his wand, and pointed it straightaway at Voldemort.
"This is my childhood home," Voldemort said dismissively.
"I care," Harry said. "Where are they?"
Voldemort laughed. "You figured out my riddle, did you? I thought you would. I admit I wasn't very original, but I wanted to make sure you came."
"I'm here, you bastard," Harry said angrily. "Now, why don't you tell my why I'm here."
"Excellent!" Voldemort said, clapping his hands together. "I like a man who wants to get right to the business at hand and not mess things about with the mundane! You truly are a wizard after my own heart."
"You don't know what a heart is," Harry spat.
"Well, I might not," Voldemort said. "But you do."
Harry looked as Voldemort whispered, "Accio, wand!"
Harry watched in horror as his own wand shot out of his hand and flew across the room into Voldemort's outstretched palm. Harry cursed himself for being so stupid. Voldemort turned his attention to a curtained area.
"Ah, there she is," Voldemort said, lifting his hand at the curtain. The curtain drew back and Harry gasped as he saw Hermione, tied to a chair, her arms and legs restrained by ropes. Her mouth was gagged with a scarf.
"Let her go!" Harry screamed.
"Tsk, tsk," Voldemort said. "She's not our only guest, you know? We mustn't forget the others."
"Your friend," Voldemort said, lifting his hand at another curtained area, which drew back to reveal Ron, who was similarly bound and gagged.
"Let them go!" Harry screamed back. "You don't want them! This doesn't involve them! This involves you and me, not them!"
"Wait! Wait!" Voldemort said scathingly. "You just wait, Potter. We haven't welcomed our last guest to this little party. This one, in particular, was quite a catch. You thought you'd lost him, but in our world, things aren't always what they seem, are they?"
Harry looked at him.
"Is the suspense killing you?" Voldemort said. "Well, let's end that, shall we?"
With a flick of his hand, another curtained area opened and to Harry's shock, Sirius Black, was seated on a metal chair. He was bound, but not gagged as Hermione and Ron were.
"Sirius?" Harry choked.
"Harry," Sirius said, his voice quite weak. His hair had grown quite long and he had an even longer beard. He looked quite pale and looked as if he'd been ill for quite some time. He looked weakened and was truly a shadow of his former self.
"Is that really you?" Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Harry," Sirius said. "You have to get out of here."
"Not without you three," Harry said. "I came here to save all of you."
"Ah! But you can't," Voldemort said gleefully. "The deal, my dear Harry Potter, is that you can only save one of their lives."
"You're asking me to choose?" Harry asked, astounded.
"Yes," Voldemort said simply. "You see, you and I will have our duel, but first I will take out two of the three assembled guests here. You can save one of them."
"How about you take me and let them go," Harry said. "That's my choice."
"It doesn't work like that, Potter," he said. "It doesn't work like that! You have to make a choice. Will it be the lovely mudblood whore you've been carrying on with? She's quite smart, isn't she? Reminds me of your mother, she does. I wonder if it will be as satisfying to kill her as it was to kill your mother."
"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed back. He looked over at Hermione, who was trying, in vain, to break free from her ropes. Her eyes were pleading at Harry, she looked scared to death.
Harry was starting to panic. He knew this wouldn't help his cause at all, but how was he supposed to do this? He could save one of them only? How could you choose? These were the three most important people in the world to him. He couldn't choose between them. It was impossible. There had to be someway to save them all. For Merlin's sake, what had he been spending all summer doing? He'd been working on ways to defeat the dark arts. Here he was facing the biggest threat he'd ever faced and he was on the verge of panic. This wasn't any way to get out of this. He told himself to focus. There would be a way, but how?
"And your best friend, here. Mr. Weasley," Voldemort said.
"And then the only family you've ever known," he said, coming to stand beside Sirius. "The man you looked to as a father."
"Harry, don't listen to him," Sirius said. "Don't listen to him."
"I must have your answer soon," Voldemort said. "Or heads will begin to roll, so to speak. Tick, tock. Tick, tock."
Harry looked back and forth at the three of them. He couldn't choose!
Voldemort sighed impatiently.
"Mr. Weasley," Voldemort said, flicking his wand over at Ron. Ron's eyes were open wide as Voldemort pointed his wand at Ron. To Harry's relief, he didn't mutter any unforgivable curse, but muttered the spell to remove the ropes and gag.
"Harry," Ron said, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had burned his skin.
"Ron," Harry said.
"Ah, no, we won't go with Mr. Weasley first," Voldemort said. "What is that Muggle gentlemen always say? Oh, yes. Ladies, first."
To Harry's horror, he watched as Voldemort turned his attention and his wand on Hermione and without blinking an eye screamed out "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Harry screamed out. He watched as Hermione's body went limp in her restraints.
Both Harry and Ron barreled at Voldemort who simply yelled "STUPEFY:" at the two of them and laughed as he watched them both fall back to the ground.
"You gentlemen should think twice about doing something like that," Voldemort said. "Seeing as neither of you has a wand, that isn't the smartest thing to do."
Harry tried to avert his eyes away from Hermione. If he looked at her, he knew he'd fall to pieces and they'd all be doomed. Harry had never before felt so angry. Any thoughts of rationality and self-control went out the window as he saw Voldemort standing there, laughing.
"You know, Harry," Voldemort said. "If you kill me, it won't bring her back. She'll still be as dead as she is now, you know? She's gone. Your indifference cost her life. Who should go next? We only have two other choices now!"
"You son-of-a-bitch," Harry retorted. "The next one to die is going to be you."
"I didn't kill her, Potter," Voldemort spat back. "It was you. You did it. If she hadn't been associated with you, she'd still be alive and happy. Well, as alive and happy as a mudblood deserves to be."
From behind Voldemort, Harry saw that Ron was now quietly inching toward Harry's wand which was on the floor a few feet away from Voldemort.
"If only I had been able to take care of you when you were a baby, all this could have been avoided, really. Well, better late than never, I always say," he hissed. All of Voldemort's attention was on Harry. He wasn't paying any attention to Ron, who was creeping closer and closer to the discarded wand on the floor.
Sirius, who had also noticed Ron's attempt to get the wand, suddenly spoke up. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" he shouted.
This diverted Voldemort's attention even further as he turned his gaze to Sirius Black.
"What are you going to do about it, tied to a chair, Black? Yes, I think it'll be you that goes next."
Voldemort cackled once more.
The diversion gave Ron enough time to grab the wand and toss it to Harry, who caught it triumphantly.
"Not so fast, you son-of-a-bitch," Harry said. "Now, it's just you and me."
"You don't have the guts to kill anyone, Potter," he said. "You're still just a child!"
"Am I?" Harry said. "I don't think so. I've waited my whole life to do this. Accio, wand!"
Voldemort's wand flew out of his hands and into Harry's.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry screamed. A flash of light bolted out of Harry's wand and struck Voldemort dead on and Voldemort's look of shock quickly vanished as he fell to the ground.
Harry kept his wand pointed at Voldemort, his eyes shining with tears. Ron stepped uncertainly forward.
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "You did it!"
Harry felt numb as he lowered his wand. "G,g-get Sirius out of his ropes," he whispered. He felt as if he was going to collapse, but he managed to make his way to where Hermione was slumped over in his chair. He quickly undid her ropes and pulled the gag out of her mouth. She didn't move. She didn't say anything. Her skin felt cold.
"Hermione," Harry said, taking her out of the chair and cradling her in his arms. 'Come on, 'Mione."
Ron and Sirius ran over a few moments later.
"Go and get help, Ron," Sirius said. Ron didn't move. He stared at the sight before him.
"Now, Ron!" Sirius said. "Go and get help!"
Ron nodded and ran out of the room.
"Harry," Sirius said.
"She's not dead, Sirius!" Harry said, rocking her in his arms.
"She's just resting," he said. "I told her she should get some more sleep. She was probably up reading. She's always doing that, you know?"
"Harry," Sirius said, tears shining in his own eyes. His heart was breaking for his godson.
"No," Harry said. "Come on, sweetheart. He's gone. We finished him off, finally. We can finally have our peace and quiet, remember? We said we were going to have that?"
"She's gone, Harry," Sirius whispered.
"No," Harry said. "She's going to open up her eyes. She's going to. It's not over. It's not over. Hermione. Come on! Wake up, please!"
"Hermione," Harry said, pleading. "Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. Don't leave me here by myself, okay?"
"Harry," Sirius said.
"She never gave up on me, Sirius," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm not giving up on her. Do you hear that, Hermione?" He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I will never give up on you."
_______________________________________________________________
August 21, 1996
Asheville, North Carolina
Simon Maxwell sat in the waiting room at Asheville General Hospital, looking every bit the worried father. He had thumbed through every magazine in the waiting room since his only child, Julie, had been admitted as a patient here a week ago.
The doctors had monitored her condition quite carefully. The cause of her coma-like state hadn't been determined. She'd sustained some sort of head trauma as the result of an auto accident. In the past few days, she'd slipped in and out of consciousness and the doctors were baffled as to why.
Her father had barely left her side since she'd been admitted. He'd told the nurses the sad story about how he and his daughter had recently moved here from London, England, following the death of his wife, Julie's mother. They'd decided to start over in a new place. They hadn't even unpacked all of their boxes from the move. His daughter, Simon had said, had taken the move quite hard. She still missed her mother very much and like most 16-year olds, she liked to rebel. She'd taken his car without his knowledge one night and the paramedics found her slumped over the steering wheel on one of the back roads. She'd crashed the car into a tree. The car had been totaled, but the accident itself hadn't been all that serious. It certainly hadn't warranted the condition that Julie Maxwell found herself in.
She was a healthy 16-year old girl who was only a month away from her birthday; her dad had told the nurses. She was a normal, healthy child, Simon had bragged to the nurses.
She had sustained no broken bones or internal injuries from the accident. Aside from the scratches and bruises on her face, you might not have even guessed she'd been in an accident just to look at her.
Dr. Williams had been assigned her case. He'd asked Simon to leave the room as he performed his daily checkup on Julie. Simon had simply nodded as he left the room. He looked up expectantly at Dr. Williams, who had just entered the waiting room.
"She's awake," Dr. Williams said, a smile stretching across his face. "She seems to be alert. Her vital signs are good."
"Has she said anything?" Simon asked.
"No," Dr. Williams said. "Maybe you can help with that? Would you like to see your daughter?"
Simon nodded.
"Yes, please," Simon asked, getting to his feet. He shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you so much."
Simon followed Dr. Williams through the double doors down the hall to Room 312. Julie Maxwell was sitting up in her bed. Her brown, bushy hair was somewhat disheveled and her brown eyes were open wide, taking everything in.
Dr. Williams walked into the room with Simon, standing back behind him.
Dr. Williams stood beside Julie's bed. "Julie," he said. "I've brought your father back to see you. He's been quite concerned."
She looked at Simon quizzically, no sign of recognition on her face.
"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely. "But how did I get here?"
"You were in a car accident," Dr. Williams said. "You crashed your father's car into a tree."
"My father?" she asked her voice still quite hoarse.
"I'm right here, sweetie," Simon said, stepping past Dr. Williams and grasping Julie's hand in his.
Tears shone in the girl's brown eyes.
"What is it?" Simon asked her.
"I'm sorry," Julie said, taking her hand away from Simon's. "But I have no idea who you are.
I don't remember how I got here and I certainly don't remember being in a car crash. You say my name is Julie,
but that doesn't seem as if it's my name. My God! I don't even know who I am? What's happening?
Dr. Williams exchanged a look of concern with Simon. He patted Julie's shoulder reassuringly as Julie continued to
sob. "It's okay, Julie."
"Mr. Maxwell," Dr. Williams said. "Might I have a moment to check her out some more? See if we can find out what's going on?"
Simon nodded. "Of course. Julie, I'll just be right outside."
He took one last look at the girl as she continued to sob before finally stepping out of the room and closing the door quietly behind him. He leaned back against the door and took a deep breath.
"So far, so good," he muttered.
"So far, so good."
TO BE CONTINUED
PART III COMING SOON
TENTATIVELY TITLED "NO PLACE THAT FAR"
THANKS TO ALL WHO HAVE READ AND REVIEWED. A SPECIAL THANKS TO ASH and SHADOWMASTER WHO HAVE LISTENED TO MY IDEAS AND BEEN GREAT SOUNDING BOARDS. YOU GUYS ARE GREAT!!!!
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To SUMMRMAGIC, ISSABISSA, CASSIEVALENTINE, HARRYHERM84, MPOTTER77---THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ MY STORY AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! You guys are great!!!!