A/N: Oh, y'all are going to hate me for this upcoming chapter. Just you wait… Please read and review… thank you.
Chapter 17:
Ending of an Era
"Well, send a telegram to hell, they succeeded." - Kevinn Edwards
The duel was set for the night at the Quidditch pitch. Harry could hardly believe that either of his friends were going through with it, especially Ron. That boy was more stubborn than he and Hermione were combined. He didn't know if he wanted to even watch, but knew he had to. He would be there to give Ron support even after their small fight earlier. There were some things more important than winning. Like friendships. Harry had worked at restarting his with friend.
"Come on, Harry," Hermione said. This time it was she who was tugging on his arm. He had taken to a snail's pace as they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. "You finally decide to support Ron, and you're moving too slow." Harry gave in a moved faster as they made their way. He still was anxious about the upcoming fight, in fear for Ron's life and what Serge's anger would do to him. Hermione gave him one last look before continuing her pull. She shared his same fears.
The Quidditch pitch was empty, with the exception of Ron, his parents and brothers, Guile, Snape and Dumbledore. Some other members of the order were around as well, seeming to be waiting for Serge. Hermione stopped, but Harry pulled her, knowing they were here now, might as well see it to the end.
"Where is he?" Ron asked. He wore his Quidditch robes, with wand in his right hand, broom in his left and his axe strapped to his back.
"Patience is a virtue, child," Guile said. The man's feet were on the ground once more, but his dark cloak against the darkening sky made his hair stand out even more. Harry tried to remain discrete as he walked over to them. "There is much to be learned in a setting sun."
"Well, I just want to get this over with, where is he?" Ron questioned once more.
"I'm your huckleberry," Serge's voice said. "Well, I see your here, step back please. Harry, come into the light, both Guile and I know you're here with Hermione." Guile turned and smirked at them, giving Harry the idea that he let them play that charade longer. The Weasley's looked shocked at this.
"What are we waiting for?" Ron asked, turning around, trying to find the source of the voice.
"Listen to your mentor," Serge cryptically said. A few more moments of silence passed as the sun finally sank below the horizon. "The time has come, Ronald Bilius Weasley. You have issued this duel," Serge's voice now spoke with a rougher tone to it, a battled hardened one. "I accept. Your weapons of choice?"
"My wand, my axe, and my broom," Ron said loudly.
"I choose my guns," Serge said stepping into the light that grew around the Quidditch pitch. He wore what appeared to be a sleeveless brown hit-man's jacket. He wore two pistols around his waist, his right hand on one already. "Then let us begin." With his left hand, he drew a pair of sunglasses out from his jacket and placed them on. "Let's dance."
Ron slid his wand into his belt and mounted his broom. Holding his axe in his right hand, Ron guided the broom toward Serge at a terrifying speed. Harry watched in horror behind a protective dome Serge must have built. The axe hung against the ground, although Ron appeared as though that's what he wanted. A streak of dirt was rising from the ground, growing larger and longer as Ron dragged his axe cross the pitch. Serge stood his ground, hand the pistol over his left hip. At the last moment, when Serge appeared no more than a foot away from Ron, he rolled out of the way.
Ron lifted his axe up and did a sharp turn, making only a slight kick of dirt as he did so. Serge stood ready, his hand on the pistol once more. Ron came around again, attempting the same style of attack. But this time, Serge drew his pistol and fired a single shot, hitting Ron's axe. The sudden impact caused him to spin out of control backward.
"Bastard," Ron said. Harry could see the anger increasing, as his fiery hair began to stand on end. He felt Hermione grip his arm tighter, but that did not matter. The determined smile on Serge's face told him enough. There would only be one person to leave the Quidditch pitch on their feet.
Ron lifted his axe and pointed it at Serge, once he was in control again. The blades turned bright red, then almost white as they increased in heat. He let go of the broom and swung the axe, creating two large arcs of fire. The air around them heated up, and Harry could tell Serge was feeling it as well as he moved, attempting to avoid the flames. He rolled to his left, only to have the arcs follow him.
"What?" He said, looking back at the arcs, which were catching up to him as he ran. He sounded out of breath as he raced away from the arcs.
"What's the matter?" Ron asked, a large grin growing maniacally on his face. "Too much heat for you old man."
"Old man? Old man!" Serge said, skidding to a halt. He turned around and replaced his pistol in his holster. He reached behind his back, and pulled off what Harry would have to call as a sawed off shotgun. "I ain't old, chief. And that is one stage you may not reach." He spun as the two arcs attempted to pass around him. He continued to walk toward Ron in what now as a sea of fire. The arcs had disappeared, but the burning entrails were more than enough to start the field ablaze.
Ron face turned from panic to determine as the flames around them grew. Placing his axe on his back, he drew his wand and raised it. He muttered something Harry could not catch and he had to watch in horror as the a large spiral of flames grew from the ground. Serge however did not change from present course of action. He held the shot gun in his hands, steady. The closer he got to Ron, the larger the tornado grew.
"You have a choose Ronald," Serge yelled as the sound of tornado prevented anything less. "You can submit here, or we finish this."
"I will not give in!" Ron yelled. With his wand he released the tornado, allowing it to continue forward.
"No, Ron," Harry said, pounding his fist against the barrier. Serge was in control, there was no way around. Even with the glasses, the smirk on his face told Harry that he expected Ron to do this. He tried to get Ron's attention, but his stubborn friend was paying attention only to the matters at hand. Harry watched the world slow down around them.
A single shot echoed through the pitch, and slowly, he watched the tornado of flames disappear as Ron's face turned from one of pride to one of shock. He began to fall off his broom, and the wards around them flickered, Harry raced forward, tapping into his lightning in order to catch Ron. The smoke was still clearing from Serge's gun when the world speed up once more, Ron was in Harry's hands, but his chest was covered in tiny piece of metal. He was gritting his teeth in attempting to hold back his screams and tears. Serge shook his head and turned around to leave. He replaced the shotgun behind his back as he walked away.
"I call upon my right as his second to finish this duel," Harry said, placing Ron back on the ground. With a wave of his hand he began to float over to where Dumbledore and the Weasley's were.
"What?" Serge asked, turning back around to look at him.
"I wish to finish this duel," Harry said. He raised his hand once more. "Accio katana!" He waited a few moments before the blade was in his hand.
"This is not between you and me," Serge said shaking his head.
"You are holding something back from me, something I should know," Harry said in a low voice. "Too many people have done that and others have suffered, I will not let it happen again."
"Very well," Serge said. He waved his hand and before anyone, including Hermione who was attempting to get to Harry at the moment, could stop them, the dome was up once more. "You win, you get your answers. Not all, but enough to quench your thirst."
"Will you tell me more about this other world?"
"Another World," Serge said. "Think of this place as the Home World, mine is Another World. And yes."
"Very well." Harry said, going into his defensive stance.
"You know the chances are slim that you'll win," Serge said as they began to circle one another. "I trained you."
"Yes, but there are some things I learned on my own," Harry said calmly. His eyes were watching Serge's, aware of the man's movements as well, but he kept contact with the man's eyes, despite hiding behind the glasses.
"Like what?" Serge asked conversationally. With a quick flick of the wrist, or at least that was how it appeared to Hermione, Serge had pulled his pistol out of the holster and fired upon Harry. Even quicker were Harry's movements. He deflected the bullet with his katana, the ping echoing loudly. He stood his ground though.
"Like that," Harry said smirking.
"Like that," Serge repeated. Hermione watched as the two of then circled one another again. This time, however, instead of only one gun, Serge pulled out them both. Firing off the rounds, Hermione could not help but let her jaw drop at the sight, or lack there of, of Harry's speed. He deflected them all easily, without breaking a sweat. At one point he felt a slight sting, but thought nothing of it; instead, he was determined not to show fear.
"Good, good," Serge said, laughing almost. "You're improving."
"Well, I stride for the best," Harry said chuckling as long. They soon fell into the routine of their training. Serge had just begun to send rubber bullets at him at theses speeds, and Harry guessed he had just upgraded to the next level. "You going to get any faster?"
"Well, no," Serge said as his right hand went to his waist, or rather, his arm, since his hand kept on firing. However, the white glow appeared, holding another pistol. "But we'll just add a bit to it." Harry grinned, though inwardly he was scared, he could not keep this up much longer. Two was easy, he had done that before, but three had begun to make it difficult. Making his move, he began to slowly, but gracefully move forward.
Hermione watched them, reminded of one of the street entertainers she saw when she was in France. It looked like they were juggling almost. Harry's swift movements of deflection nearly matched Serge's assaults. As one made it more difficult, the other stepped forward and forced the pressure on the other. This is exactly what was happening now. Serge had forced Harry to work harder, so Harry began to walk forward, knowing that Serge had said he would only use his guns.
"Mind if we talk while doing this?" Serge asked, waving his right arm once more. Hermione watched as the noise from the pitch disappeared. She scowled as she began to wonder was going on.
"Why not?" Harry said, getting within several feet of the man.
"I don't trust the Weasley's, especially the mother, as you can tell," Serge said, casually. They both spoke in conversational tones, like they were next to each other, but with all the noise around them, Harry was surprised he could hear Serge. "She coddles her boys too much."
"I know what you mean," Harry agreed. "I doubt that if you weren't here, she'd have tried to hide some things from me. Ron was barely able to get into the Order anyway. Ginny is normal because of an episode with Riddle." He paused for a moment in speaking, his arms still moving rapidly. "She does not like you much."
"Well, the feeling is mutual," Serge said. His breath became a bit heavier as he backed up slightly. "See, she is the one that has caused the greatest damage to my family in Another World. She controls the courts and when my father was tried for treason, which he had taken no part in, she completely forwent the trial and hung him in the street. That sealed my fate, and I blame her for everything afterwards. She does not understand everything, and only wishes to protect her young. Well in honesty she had failed for the most part, and she is over compensating for it."
"Tired yet?" Harry asked, getting closer still.
"Well, I figure I'm going to change plans a bit." Serge quickly put all the pistols back in their holsters and pulled out the shotgun. However instead of firing, he ran forward at Harry, seizing the moment. The attack caught Harry's surprise, hit his jaw, and he fell over as he failed to dodge. "Not so fast anymore are you?" Serge said, taking several swings at Harry as he attempted to roll away. Harry held back his laughter. No matter the outcome of this duel, he still had his friends. Serge understood, and knew that he had to defend Ron's honor, just like Ron had to defend his father's.
"Well, don't need to be fast all the time," Harry said. He found his opening and kicked Serge's feet out from underneath of him. Both of the men were back up on their toes, ready once more. This time however, Harry was on the offensive. Serge held his shotgun with both hands, blocking Harry's assaults with his katana.
Hermione watched as the scene changed once more. Harry was now on the offensive, and there seemed very little that Serge could do to stop it. Although his attacks were not specifically hard or powerful, they were coming at an alarming rate and from what she could tell, the shotgun looked like it would break in half soon. But neither man looked angry; on the contrary, both of them looked like they were having fun, serious fun, but nevertheless fun. Maybe that was why Ron had failed. Mrs. Weasley had Ron taken immediately to the hospital wing, although Dumbledore told her there was no immediate danger.
Harry swung down hard this time, slicing the shotgun in half. Serge stumbled backward at the force, holding both pieces of the gun in his hands. Harry placed his katana at Serge's throat, almost threatening him to finish the job. Serge nodded lightly, and a smile broke out on his face as Harry pulled back the katana. The wards were down, and Harry had just enough sense to drop the katana as he turned and caught Hermione running into his arms.
"You fought well," Serge said, holding out his hand.
"I had a good teacher," Harry said, shaking it once. "Remember you promised, and I want Hermione there as well." Serge nodded, and Harry finally allowed himself to feel the pressure he put on his body. His arms felt like lead, as did his feet. He began to feel light headed as well. He did his best to keep his arms wrapped around Hermione, but as the moments passed quickly, he felt his body sliding to the floor, with a surprised Hermione as well.
She clung to his body desperate, and despite knowing the somewhere Harry was okay, but that part was deep inside of her, and right now, she needed to know immediately that he was okay, that he was safe and that he was uninjured.
"Relax, he's fine," Serge said as Hermione began to frantically look over Harry's exhausted body. She came to his right arm, and pulled back, surprised at the wetness. Red sweat was on her fingertips, and it was more red then sweat.
"You bastard," Hermione screamed, shrugging off the hand Serge laid on her. She moved so she was over his shoulder and held in gently in her arms. Blood was coming out of it quickly, and she placed her hand over it gently. She felt his body wince at the slight touch, but kept it constant, letting her tap into her "inner water" as McGonagall called it.
This water often came out frozen in the form of offensive magic, but the healing waters were where she really specialized. The water lightly dropped from her hands, and almost immediately, the effects were seen. The blood, both caked and new was being washed away, and the wound itself was healing. She smiled lightly as the bullet hold disappeared, and the bullet was washed away with the water.
She stood up now, with accusatory eyes on Serge. "You hurt him!" She screamed.
"We were dueling, he could have killed me," Serge said, taking a step back. "I could have killed Ron, these things are common place in wizard dueling." Hermione turned around and kneeled back by Harry's side, trying to help his strength with the magical water she now possessed. Harry's eyes opened once more, and Hermione felt her body relax finally as he sat up, awkwardly. "You're alright." She said, as he rubbed his forehead.
"Yeah, but we need to get inside," Harry said. Hermione looked up to see Dumbledore standing around them. Before Harry could say anything else, he felt a sense of pain too strong to handle overcome him. White flashes filled his mind as the pain increased. No matter how much he felt Hermione's healing touch, something felt like it was trying to burn its way into his mind.
"Hello Potter," a voice said.
"Riddle," Harry thought over the pain. The picture of a glowing red snake came to him mind, crawling through a darkened tunnel. "Just like you to come at me on your yellow-belly.
"The end is near, Potter," Voldemort said. The snake was getting closer and glowing brighter. "You're tired, relax, there is no reason to worry. I'll take care of everything."
"Your wr-wr-wrong," Harry struggled to say. Hermione and Dumbledore exchanged glances. She was holding him in her arms, trying to calm him and relax his tense body. "No!" He screamed, and his grip on Hermione's hand would have been painful without her healing ice encompassing both of their hands. Clouds began to surround them. "Get out of my head!" Harry screamed. Thunder crackled in the background. Hermione's grip began to grow even tighter on his hand.
"Hermione, concentrate on Harry." Serge's voice said. She could not see him, but knew he was nearby. "He needs you right now. This storm will pass, as all things in life must, but you must keep him grounded. Keep him here." Hermione nodded as another thunderbolt crashed.
"Give in, Harry, it'll be over soon," the voice said once more.
"No," Harry shook his head once more. "NO!" He screamed. The storm turned volatile, and the bolts of lightning grew closer. In the distance, she could see them touching the ground. Still, she had to fight her fears; besides she did not think she could undo the ice that held their hands together now.
"I won't hurt them," the voice said. Harry shook his head, knowing the word to come: "much."
"Aaargggh!" Harry screamed. A crash of watched as the lightning bolt hit miles away and waited for the crash of thunder, it never came. Hermione had no expected another bolt of lightning before the crash, but it came before anyone could have a response. The bolt hit Harry directly over his heart, making him jerk into the air and his screams of pain grew even louder.
"Don't touch him," Dumbledore said as Serge made a move to restrain Harry. Heavy rain began to pour down now, as Hermione pumped her skills in short, yet powerful bursts to counter the lightning. Harry looked like he was immense pain, his teeth appeared to be rattling and his grip on her hand had now grown painful. The bolt continued, and melted through the ice connection, but neither of them let go. Hermione did her best to keep her magical healing going, but she felt the drain upon her body mounting.
"Scared Harry?" the voice asked. "You should be. Cause before you die, your precious goes first."
"NO!" Harry screamed once more. The bolt broke off and an unearthly scream filled the air. It wasn't Harry's though; his breathing though labored had begun to calm. No, the scream came from elsewhere.
A moment of silence followed the extended scream. The ice had melted from their hands, living them dry almost. Hermione opened her eyes and finally took a good look at Harry. Burns covered his body, ranging from minor to third. Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly, she moved her palms over his hands, touching the worst of the burns. The redness and blisters melted into the skin, giving it back its tanned tone.
"Good job Hermione," Dumbledore said softly. "Best to get him back inside though. The storm is only beginning." Hermione looked around her. The sky was clear once more and there did not appear to be any more dangerous clouds.
"I'll fix up the pitch," Serge said, stepping away. Dumbledore levitated Harry onto a conjured stretcher, similar to the one that Ron was taken in on. Hermione held onto Harry's hand, and was only too pleased to feel him tighten his limp grip. Relaxation filtered through her body, and she could not keep the smile off of her face.
"He fought remarkably well," Dumbledore said after they had walked in silence. Hermione looked up at the professor. "But I must say, that your skills are even more so." Hermione blushed and began to count the stone tiles. "I've always seen healing as a more civilized act than the duels, though I myself was never proficient in it. However your natural gift has grown a great deal since the summer. I must say, that points will be award once Harry gets back inside for your job out here today."
"Thank you sir," Hermione said, blushing. She went back to gazing at the ground as they walked on silently.
Once they arrived at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey took Harry into her care immediately commenting on Harry's remarkable recovery rate. Once again Hermione began to blush as Dumbledore explained what she had done. Looking around she could see Ron sitting up, a bandage over his chest spotted lightly with blood. Only Mrs. Weasley had left and almost immediately she was over by them, her face bright red.
"How could you let a mad man like that into the Order?" She screamed. Dumbledore stood calmly, his face void of any sentiment or twinkle. "He nearly killed my son."
"Only because your son was foolish enough to go about this endeavor," Guile said, floating in from the shadows. Everyone, except Dumbledore and Harry, jumped slightly at his approach. "I've been training with your son for the last few months, and I knew there was a chance that he would not survive this battle. Had it not been for Harry's actions, he would not have."
"What did Harry do?" Ron asked, groggily.
"He took your place as your second," Guile said, walking over to Harry's bed. "From his body language, he did not approve of this duel, Ronald, but you were his friend, that was more important to him."
"He fought for me?" A disbelieving look came across his face.
"Yes Ronald and I don't think Serge wished to fight you," Guile said walking over to him. "I too saw similarities to the man Serge called you yesterday, however, you still have a choice. Pride is a horrible sin. You have wallowed within her reach too long. However Envy has held you much longer."
"Yes sir," Ron said. His eyes became downcast, but Hermione did not miss the hint of anger within.
"Now, how is the patient doing?" Guile said, walking back over to them. Madame Pomfrey glared at him.
"Fine, now just let me work," she said, moving over to Harry's side.
"Nonsense, the boy is fine," Guile said. "Unconscious, but fine. You have a magnificent healer on your hands Madame Pomfrey." Guile's feet lifted from the ground and he floated back to the shadows. "Don't let it go to waste."
Madame Pomfrey began to mumble to herself as she tended to what remained of Harry's wounds. She however seemed satisfied with Hermione's work and left without saying another word. Though she may not have meant to show it, Hermione could tell she had been worried for Harry, a frequent patient within her care. In a few moments, Luna appeared as well, a shocked and scared look on her face. Hermione got up from her seat next to Harry and walked over to her.
"What happened?" Luna asked. Hermione did her best to comfort the young Ravenclaw.
"Ron was in a duel against Serge, Harry took his place," Hermione managed to get out through her own tears.
"But what about the storm?" Luna said. Her tears were noticeable as well as Dumbledore assisted them over to Harry's bedside.
"He…he…came into Harry's mind, we think," Hermione said taking up Harry's hand. She shuddered as the memory ran through her again. Luna hugged her tightly as her tears threatened to spill.
After a moment or two of silence, Luna spoke once more. "What was the lightning on the field then?"
"Harry-he took several bolts of lightning to his chest," Hermione said. She rubbed his hand gently. "He's fine though now."
"Good," Luna said, moving to the other side of the bed. "You healed him?" Hermione nodded as Luna picked up his other hand. "Then there is nothing to be worried about. He'll wake up soon and all this will be behind us."
"No," Harry said, groggily. He attempted to sit, but nearly fell off the bed as he did so. Luna and Hermione got over the shock, helped him sit up against the pile of pillows. "It's not over…." His voice was slurred and thick and his eyes appeared heavy.
"Relax Harry," Hermione said, pushing him back slightly. "You need your rest."
"It's not over," he said slightly louder. "He's planning something, something big."
"You're delusional mister Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, coming over to his side once more. "Drink this, and you'll feel better in the morning."
"Don't tell me `I'll feel better in the morning,'" Harry said, pushing the goblet of the way. It clattered against the once clean floor, the potion splattering. "I know what I felt, what I saw!"
"There will be no yelling in my infirmary," Madame Pomfrey said firmly.
"Then let me leave!" Harry yelled at her once more. "I'm fine, Hermione healed; now let me leave. I've got to talk to Dumbledore"
"Relax Harry," Hermione said attempting to calm him down.
"I will not relax," Harry snapped. "I've got to talk to Dumbledore." Hermione flinched slightly, and only then did he let his anger subside. "There is more at stake that any of you know." Hermione nodded, turning away from his slightly.
She tried to hold back her tears. She did not expect him to yell at her like that. She knew what was at stake, what may happen at the final battle. She would be there for him, no matter what his mood.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, shaking his head. He knew she still was experiencing something that he could not understand. Maybe it was a woman thing. All he knew was he had overreacted to her. He drew his arms around her.
"Just don't do it again please?" Hermione asked, with pleading eyes. A fear had overcome when he did that, yet she had no rational reason for it. None. All she could think was... the thought was lost to her as she tried to regain it. All she knew was she afraid for that half-second, and that half-second hurt more than anything. She had never been afraid of Harry before, never.
Harry nodded, pulling her closer. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. What had he done; he knew he should not have snapped at her, but still, there something worse going on.
Dumbledore came back into the room after leaving momentarily. He walked over to Harry, a small smile on his face, but there was no happiness in his eyes. "Glad to see you up and about Harry." He sat down in the chair Hermione had occupied only moments before.
"Me too," Harry said, keeping Hermione near. "Hermione, can I speak to Dumbledore for a bit on my own?" She nodded, but did nothing to move out of his arms.
"Hermione, lets go get some books for you two to study from," Luna said, trying to prompt out another response from her. Hermione nodded, but did nothing to move.
"Hermione, dear, Harry and I are going to discuss in length what he must do within the next coming weeks in preparation of the final battle," Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his seat. "I think we both would appreciate you finding some material for not only him, but for the students with the DA as well." Hermione finally looked out of his chest. She nodded and kissed his cheek. Reluctantly she let Harry go.
"I'll come find you in the library once I'm done," Harry said, squeezing her hand. She nodded, though there was weariness in her eyes. "It'll be okay love." She nodded once more, leaned over him and gave him a strong passionate kiss.
"Please, don't take him from me," Hermione said to Dumbledore. "I feel like I already lost him once." She whispered this last part into Dumbledore's ear as she gave him a goodbye hug.
Luna and Hermione walked out of the infirmary and began to make their way silently to the library. Hermione's sense of loss was overcoming her quickly. Her words to Dumbledore were truer than she thought. It was as if in another life, she had lost Harry already, and could do nothing to stop it. She smiled at a memory of theirs, before her resolve stiffened. She would do everything in her power to make sure that she was never far from her.
"Hermione wait up," Luna yelled after her. Hermione stopped and turned. She had not even realized that she had increased her speed. She just knew that she had to get the library and fast. She had to find all the protection spells possible. "What's with you? First the library seemed to be the last place you wanted and now you seemed determined about going to there."
"Dumbledore is right, I've got to look up the spells," Hermione said, turning around and continuing on her path. "I'm going to find a way to make sure that Harry never leaves me again."
"I think he already gave it to you," Luna said.
"What?" Hermione turned and looked at her. She pointed at her chest and Hermione looked down. The pendant was glowing a light blue, almost like a clear ocean blue. Hermione moved out from underneath her blouse and looked at intently. A sense of warmth surrounded her as she clasped it with both of her hands. All her fond memories of Harry came back to her, and soon, everything seemed better. She smiled as she put it back underneath her blouse. "I think there I need to return him the favor." The two of them shared a giggle before they head off to the library, Hermione's memories thick with images of her and him on a beach somewhere.
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