Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Author's Note: In this chapter, I do something I've never actually done in any of my fics- involve the Founders. You'll notice, also, that I've mentioned two Founder ships; to be honest, I don't ship the Founders for the simple reason that I can't ship characters who are basically non-existent in canon but I've written it into this fic for the simple reason that 1. I thought it'd be more dramatic and 2. that's what my muses came up with. My muses also being to blame for the somewhat disjointed style of this chapter…
I think, at this point, there will be one more chapter and that will be it for this fic.
Thanks for reading and reviewing. And enjoy!
~No Greater Love~
Part 5: The Power
The Year 1036
They had been brothers once.
The two men so similar in so many ways, one dark, one fair, two sides of the same coin, as they had joked. They had eaten together, drank together, laughed together, grown older together, fought side-by-side… And they had created their dream together, a school to teach children the principles of magic.
The man stared broodingly out the window at the encroaching dusk, seeing not the darkness but himself, in days past, and Salazar, once his friend and brother, now his enemy.
Salazar, the pale one to his dark, whose hair had once been blond, the color of wheat and gradually, as his mind turned more and more to solitude and the arrogance that had always been his primary flaw, become paler, losing all color until it had become what it was today, so pale it was nearly white. Whose cool blue eyes also had once been alive, warm with friendship and humor and their shared purpose and now were cold, the blue of ice… Salazar had always been the proud one, the hard one, reserved, keeping his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself and sharing them only sparingly with them, his three closest friends, and with her… The one softening influence, who balanced his coolness with her warmth, softened his harshness with her understanding… Strange, that such opposites had attracted and yet fitting, too.
But that had been before… Before the beginning of the rift, the slow deepening of their fundamental difference, their polarizing opinion of the equality of witches and wizards regardless of birth or blood…
And now, he stood at the brink of the precipice. Himself on one side, defending not just his principles but the school which they had founded a decade ago… And on the other, Salazar, challenging their principles, mocking their belief in equality…
They had been brothers once… Now, enemies…
He sensed her presence before she spoke, her voice soft. "Are you indeed determined to face him then, Godric?"
His reply was brief, terse. "Aye."
She sighed and nodded. She had known what he would say. "So be it. But as you are determined to go alone, we will assist you with what we can. You know you cannot defeat him alone. You, better than anyone, know his powers. He is as you are, equal. You cannot do this alone."
"I must."
She moved further into the room, putting a hand on his shoulder. Finally, he turned to look at her.
"If I fall facing him, then so be it. I would rather die at the hands of one whom I know to be my equal and a worthy foe, than long years from now, waiting for age and infirmity to overtake me."
"You will not fall because you will not be facing him with your strength alone," she countered. "You will be alone in body, perhaps, but not in spirit. Helga and I have prepared a spell that will strengthen you. All that we have, we will give to you."
A frown creased his brow. "You cannot do such a thing." There was a command in his voice.
She faced him steadily, her chin lifting slightly, her gaze unfaltering. "We can and we will. You cannot stop us."
For a moment, their gazes clashes, two powerful wills struggling. Until finally, he conceded. "Very well."
Her gaze softened, her hand moving from his shoulder to comb through his black hair with a gentle caress. "You are defending not just your principles but ours as well and the future of every Hogwarts student. We have the right to assist you in this cause."
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "You are right." He paused, the faintest of smiles lifting the corners of his lips. "As usual."
She smiled and he bent his head to claim her lips, kissing her firmly, and felt, as he always did in her presence, his tension easing. She was the rational side, balancing out his impulsive nature, her calm presence of mind matching his reckless courage. Where he was weak, she was strong; where she was weak, he gave her strength. She was his friend, his true partner, his love…
It was time.
He faced them, his oldest, truest friends and partners in this school which they had founded to realize their vision.
Rowena stood tall, her brown hair pulled back, her brown eyes clear and filled with all the strength of her will. Helga stood beside her, her long light brown hair flowing loose, her blue eyes warm but also filled with her own brand of courage and determination.
His gaze paused on Helga, softening as he recognized the difficulty of her position. "I am sorry, Helga," he said softly, "for putting you in this position, assisting me to defeat the one you love." He deliberately used the word 'defeat' and not 'kill' although they all knew that defeat would come only with death. It had come to this. Two men, once brothers, and now neither could live while the other survived…
Helga shook her head though a flicker of pain shadowed her eyes for a moment. "No. The Salazar I knew and loved no longer exists; he has become someone else, only Slytherin, lord of his own mistaken beliefs. And so I can do this freely. If, in risking so much, I can help this school, the price will not have been too high." She straightened, lifting her chin, adding an undeniable dignity to her still-youthful face. "What I have, I give to you."
"And I," Rowena declared.
He nodded, acknowledging this, his hazel eyes thanking them for what they were about to do.
Helga spoke first, her wand hand steady as she pointed her wand at him. "Begun with the love of a sister and friend… Expecto piaculum devoveo."
And then Rowena, her eyes full of love and courage… "It is completed by the love of a life-partner… Expecto piaculum devoveo."
He felt the surge of sheer magic enter inside him, filling him, and gasped from the power of it, opening his eyes to look first at Helga and then at Rowena, before he said the words to complete the transfer of power. "Expecto potestas."
~*~*~*~
April 1998
It was time.
Harry stared around at the people he cared about most, wondering if he was ever going to see them again.
The atmosphere was tense. It seemed as if McGonagall's quiet, solemn words were echoing through the air somehow, creating invisible ripples disturbing the otherwise almost deathly calm.
"You all understand what this spell entails," she had said, her gaze touching each of them in turn. "You are transferring all your magical abilities, your special strengths, along with the not-inconsiderable force of your affection for Mr. Potter into him, thereby increasing his own innate power. But in doing so, you are committing yourself to feeling all the pain which he feels twice over." She paused then continued. "If, for example, the Cruciatus Curse is cast on Mr. Potter, you will all feel it as well and feel it to a greater extent. This is, in fact, possibly the reason this spell has never been undertaken successfully since the time of Godric Gryffindor; suffering the agonies of multiple curses to a greater degree than what they would normally produce can very easily reduce the strongest of witches and wizards to a mindless state. And I'm sure I do not need to remind any of you that it is very likely, indeed probable, that Voldemort will inflict the Cruciatus Curse on Mr. Potter at least once before actually attempting to kill him."
He had sucked in his breath sharply at those words, swallowing back the shout of protest that again rose in his throat at the idea of these people, of Hermione, suffering the Cruciatus on his behalf. How could he let them do it? How could he let her do this, risk so much?
And yet he knew even as he thought the questions frantically that he had no choice. He had to. They had all made their choice and even now, with the stark reality of their decision staring them in the faces, none of them flinched or looked at all less certain of their commitment.
Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione… They were all pale but their expressions were set. There was a grim determination in Remus' eyes and stance. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes but there was an equally unfaltering expression on her face. Ron- Ron looked as if he were staring Aragog and all his children in the face about to enter their lair but despite the apprehension, the fear widening his eyes, there was a certain something, a look that this was something he needed to do, which told Harry just how certain he was.
And Hermione… The thought of her in pain squeezed his heart until he couldn't breathe, couldn't think except to feel horror, horror that chilled his very soul at the thought of Hermione suffering, screaming, crying… But she too was determined. There was a glint in her eyes that he recognized from long ago, the look in her eyes she always got when she was talking about issues she was passionate about, the implacable look she had had when talking about the rights of house elves… And for this, she cared even more than she ever had about house-elves and their freedom. There wasn't a trace of doubt or uncertainty in her expression; there was only confidence and, as she looked at him, a depth of loyalty, of love, that almost took his breath away.
They were all doing this willingly, for his sake, because they- they loved him in their different ways. He heard in his mind a vague echo of Professor Trelawney's eerie voice saying, the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… Power the Dark Lord knows not… Power…
Power. He already had some, whatever strange power it was which had allowed him to survive so far, a power he didn't understand. And he was about to be given more power, the power of sacrifice…
He suddenly knew, knew deep down in his soul with a certainty that admitted no doubt, that Hermione had been right. This- this truly was the Power the Prophecy spoke of, this willingness on the part of these people to risk their magical ability, their sanity, their lives, everything, just for him…
He hated the idea that he needed to put these people he cared about so much at risk but again he heard the part of his mind that spoke in Hermione's voice explaining, we were already at risk, targets simply because we were close to you. This spell puts us in no more actual danger than we already were in and even if it did, it wouldn't matter. We would still do this, for you.
He looked around at these people again and though normally he cringed at the idea of talking about his feelings (years as the Dursleys' personal slave hardly acknowledged to have feelings, let alone a right to them, didn't encourage a willingness to talk about personal things), right now, none of that mattered. Saying thank you was hardly adequate for the magnitude of the sacrifice, the risk, these four people were taking for his sake. No, he couldn't just say, thank you. What he could say, what he did say was, his voice slightly hoarse from emotion and nervousness, "I love you all, you know."
Professor McGonagall pretended to have gone deaf, ignoring this.
Remus smiled slightly for the first time since entering the room, his gaze softening. "I know you do, Harry."
Mrs. Weasley valiantly blinked back tears. "Of course you do, dear boy," she said in an attempt at her normal demeanor that fell rather flat thanks to the quiver in her voice.
Ron swallowed, his face suddenly as red as his ears. His mouth opened, then closed and he shifted, looking as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what.
Hermione… God, Hermione… His heart clenched again with an odd mixture of love, fear, hope, dread… Every nerve in his body was screaming that he couldn't possibly do this to her, couldn't possibly let her risk so much because if she was somehow hurt and he survived, it would kill him. He knew it.
He felt himself walking toward her, without having consciously decided to do so, his hands taking hers, gripping them tightly. "I-" he stopped, not sure what he was going to say, what he could say right now.
There were sudden tears in her eyes which she blinked back furiously. "I know, Harry, I know," she said softly.
And then McGonagall interrupted. "It is time. We mustn't delay any longer."
He gulped, his grip tightening on her hands, and then gave her a quick kiss on the lips, not even caring that everyone saw it.
It was time.
He stepped back as the others moved into their positions around him, forming a sort of circle facing him, with McGonagall standing to the side, watching.
They all knew what to do now.
McGonagall waved her wand, muttered a few words and instantly, a circle appeared on the floor, its outline glowing faintly, two lines crossing through the center of the circle where he stood and meeting the circle at 4 points on opposite ends, where Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Ron and Hermione stood. It was what was known as a Spell-Caster's Circle, used sometimes for old wizarding rituals, creating a special magical environment to enhance the spells performed inside its influence.
McGonagall began, her voice sounding oddly disembodied from its solemnity.
"Begun with the love of a mother…"
Mrs. Weasley's wand raised to point at him. "Expecto piaculum devoveo."
"Continued by the love of a father…"
Then it was Remus' turn. "Expecto piaculum devoveo."
"Strengthened by the love of a brother…"
Ron, his voice oddly hoarse but unwavering for all that. "Expecto piaculum devoveo."
"It is completed by the love of a life-partner…"
Hermione's voice rang out clear and sure. "Expecto piaculum devoveo."
As soon as Hermione stopped speaking, light shot out from the tips of all four wands, light which hit him, filled him with something which he knew was simply magic, magic at its purest level, and he opened his mouth to complete the spell.
"Expecto potestas."
And then staggered back a step from the rush of sheer power he felt, filling him, pouring out of him it seemed. His eyes went blank and he didn't see their faces anymore, the room around them, didn't feel the floor under his feet. There was only this, the magic, consuming him…
And then it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. He blinked, sensation returning, and he knew, though at the moment, he felt no different, that the spell had been a success.
And now, it was time to set in motion the plan… It was time to end this war for good.
~*~
"No! You don't understand; you can't! Just stop pretending that you can, will you? Just leave me alone, for God's sake! Leave me alone! I can't stand having you pretending you understand and that you can help me. No one can help me! No one!"
She flinched involuntarily from the harshness of his words, the coldness of his tone, even though she knew he didn't mean it. Even knowing that this was an act, hearing him raise his voice and say such things hurt her. She'd never been so thankful that she had always been able to read his mood in his eyes as now, when his words and his eyes were at such variance with each other.
His voice was full of anger, of frustration. His eyes were warm, with a flicker of apprehension, of fear, in them, but no anger.
~*~
"We need to draw Voldemort out. No more waiting for him to act; this is our chance." Remus said, urgently.
McGonagall nodded. "I agree. And I believe our best chance is to make Voldemort believe that Harry is completely alone and unprotected. Thus far, Harry has never been alone, never been very vulnerable, but Voldemort has been watching and waiting. So we will give him his opportunity. And that is where you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, must come in. Stage an argument between you three which you, Mr. Potter, will end by storming off in anger. Professor Snape will then relay the information that you have gone off alone, unprotected and weak because of your very anger, to Voldemort. No one except us must know the truth about the argument; to do so would be to jeopardize the success of this ploy."
They had agreed, knowing they had no choice… And the board was set, for this, the final act…
~*~
Harry looked at Ron and then at her, their eyes meeting, for one last intense moment- for all intents as if he were biting back further harsh words, but for the truth in his eyes which only they could see. He was saying Goodbye. In that last look, his eyes said all the words he hadn't had a chance to say before this all began, the last thank you, the last goodbye… just in case…
And then he was gone, storming out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a stunned silence from everyone who couldn't imagine Harry blowing up at his two best friends in such a way and a nervous apprehension in those who knew the truth.
That last look had said goodbye… because he didn't expect to be returning… And suddenly, she couldn't bear that this was supposed to be the last time she saw him before he left; she couldn't let him leave like this! She made a sound, half-sob, half-cry, and ran out of the Great Hall, ignoring Professor McGonagall's sharp, "Miss Granger!" She knew she was breaking the agreed-upon plan, knew she very well might be jeopardizing things but she couldn't help it. She had to see him one last time, to say goodbye the way it needed to be said…
Dear God, she hoped she wasn't too late…
She ran, her heart in her throat, half-blinded by tears, until she saw him, just about to leave the front doors of the castle, and cried his name. "Harry, wait!" Thank God, he hadn't left the castle yet; the plan hadn't been overly compromised…
He turned to face her and she faltered slightly at the look on his face. He was so pale, his skin the color of paper, and out of his pale face, his eyes shone strangely, burning with desperation, fear, determination. His lips were set grimly, and for the first time ever, she felt fear, afraid of the power in him… This wasn't her Harry anymore… This was a different Harry, the one who would face Voldemort and end this for good…
And then his eyes softened as he looked at her, and he was her Harry once more.
"Harry, I- I couldn't let you go like that. I- I love you, Harry. I love you."
He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something but before he could, she threw her arms around him, kissing him with all the love, all the passion, all the fear she felt. His arms went around her automatically, tightening as he returned the kiss with a fervor that bordered on desperation. They kissed as if it would be the last time with the underlying, unacknowledged fear that maybe, this really would be their last kiss…
And when it ended, they knew that no more words needed to be said. The kiss had said it all.
Their gazes met and melded in one long, intense look.
"I love you, my Hermione," he said softly, and for the first time, felt the knot of dread in his stomach loosen a little. He was doing this not for some abstract principle of justice or a vague idea of saving the world, but for her… To keep her safe, to try to end the prejudice she faced as a Muggle-born… So she would no longer have to be afraid, for her life or the lives of those she cared about… He was doing this for her, for the friendship she'd given him, the love and the happiness… For her sake… And somehow, looking into her eyes, he couldn't believe that he might fail… He couldn't fail with her believing in him…
A slight smile trembled on her lips, though tears still shone in her eyes. "I love you too."
He straightened, stepping back away from her. "I need to go. This has to end now," he said quietly.
She nodded. "I know," she managed to say through the lump of emotion in her throat. Her lips parted again to say the last word, Goodbye, and suddenly she knew she couldn't say the word. It was too final, too despairing, sounded too much like a final farewell as if she truly didn't expect to see him again. Instead she said, "Be careful, Harry. I'll be waiting for you."
He too had opened his mouth to say, Goodbye; she could see it in the shape of his lips, the expression in his eyes, but he stopped, swallowing back the word. "I'll be careful. And I will come back." It was a promise, a vow. He would come back.
Their gazes met and held in one long, last look.
And then he was gone.