Chapter 37: All Day Permanent Red: Part 3
Tears, Idle Tears, by Lord Alfred Tennyson
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more."
On the inside of Dumbledore's magical enclosure he and Voldemort moved in a menacing circle around one another, both pairs of eyes glaring at the other, blood red on bright blue, watching for some faltering movement; waiting for a weakness to present itself…
On the outside the battle raged on; an unrelenting, seemingly never-ending day of permanent red.
"You have weakened over the years… I can feel it," Voldemort growled, his wand pointing at various parts of Dumbledore, apparently deciding which might be the most debilitating to attack. "However, I have become much more powerful since we last met. You will die today."
Dumbledore regarded him with a hint of triumph. "Then I shall die knowing I have completed all I have set out to do... Can you say the same?"
Immediately enraged, Voldemort let out a high-pitched, feral scream and stepped forward, throwing his wand arm out and steadying himself for the powerful wave of magic he was about to let loose.
"EVASTO!"
A thick beam of molten red light zoomed out of his wand straight toward Dumbledore who, at the last possible moment, twisted, whipped his cloak around himself, and with a decidedly loud POP, vanished. The curse struck one wall of blue barrier, reflected off it, and for a moment the enclosure was brilliantly lit with a thousand shard-beams of broken red light.
Voldemort blinked away the blinding brightness, narrowed his eyes in aggravation and whirled about too late to see the Headmaster behind him, ready to strike.
"Vinculum!"
Magical golden cords suddenly flew out from the end of Dumbledore's wand and whizzed forward, writhing in mid-air like live snakes until, upon impact with the dark lord, they whipped tightly about his entire body.
However, Voldemort was only momentarily overcome.
He immediately began muttering something under his breath and, only moments later, his entire body began to glow a bright fiery red. The golden ropes binding him began to smoke and finally to burn away, the ash falling heavily to the ground like golden glittery, cord shaped piles about his feet.
Again he raised his wand and screamed a powerful curse, only to have it deflected with a bit of difficulty by Dumbledore to the ground. It blasted a pumpkin-sized, smoking hole in the earth.
Both raised their wands at the same time and began trading curses again, narrow misses compounding with deft escapes, much to the horror of someone who was watching them duel, and trying desperately to think of a way into the enclosure with every spare second he was allowed.
Harry's sword crashed together and held with one the one across from him, wielded by whom he now recognized (having seen him in the Daily Prophet) to be Augustus Rookwood.
Rookwood's crooked teeth were bared in a ferocious snarl as he used his larger muscles to push with all his might against Harry's own sword, the two blades scraping and grinding together, and mere inches from both of their faces.
Harry was on the point of complete exhaustion. Physically fit though he was, he had fought so many battles this day that he was now almost completely relying on the rush of adrenaline to keep him going.
His arms were shaking so hard from the exertion, he felt they might certainly give way at any second. Sweat poured down his forehead and cheeks, the salty drops tickling his skin as they slid down his face, and making superficial scratches on his face and neck burn. His clothes were saturated with the same stuff mixed with blood seeping from the many cuts and stabs he had taken; most shallow, but others bordering on the dangerously deep. His biceps felt as if they were on fire from the strain of blade on blade as he tried to force his opponent back; the overused muscles in his legs twitching spasmodically as he dug his feet in the dry earth and struggled to push himself forward to cause the other to stumble.
And as suddenly as the battle between the two had begun, it ended. Just when Harry felt he would not be able to hold up any longer, a sudden shout of the Petrificus curse nearby caused Rookwood to seize up and fall backward to the ground stiff as a board, with eyes that were permanently surprised.
Harry stumbled forward with the sudden lack of force to push against and looked up, lowering his sword. Behind where Rookwood had just stood, he saw Ron lower his wand.
"Not as permanent as an Unforgivable, but it has it's charms I reckon," breathed Ron heavily as he walked over.
Harry closed his eyes and leaned forward to brace himself on his knees, struggling to regain some of the breath he had lost.
"Thanks mate," he panted. "Damn near thought I'd lost that one."
Ron nodded open-mouthed, keeping his eyes peeled for any enemy who might decide to target them, while simultaneously looking Harry over.
"You look bad."
"I feel worse," said Harry, swiping at his brow. "Where's Hermi…"
"She's fine," Ron answered at once, tonguing a split area on his lip. "She and Madame Pomfrey are well out of it now, I think; they're on the outside tending to all the wounded. Lav and Gin are there too... Ginny's gone spare, though. Can't seem to find Malfoy. Last time we saw him was right after he killed Lucius. She keeps trying to move out to look for him but I've made her sit with Mum and the rest of the wounded for safe keeping. She's in no shape to fight anymore, herself…"
But Harry had not heard anything past learning Hermione was safe. He had moved forward a couple of steps, a bolt of fear blazing through his chest as his gaze once again settled on Dumbledore and Voldemort.
Only seconds into watching the battle waging within the forcefield it had become apparent that Dumbledore, the wizard Harry had always imagined incapable of failure, might actually be beginning to weaken. True, Voldemort also seemed tired and a bit less on his mark than he had been before but, Harry realized with a frown, Dumbledore looked a bit worse. He was still on his feet and managing difficult spells, but the ones he was throwing seemed almost mediocre in strength. He seemed constantly on the defense and rarely attacking, and to Harry, it was a spectacle he had thought never to witness.
He'd known Dumbledore had grown very old but his age had never before seemed to undermine his physical abilities or the magic or the possessed. Now, it almost seemed as if everything was catching up with him. His impossibly lined face was set with determination, but oddly, Harry thought he could see a bit of... quiet resignation?... in the expression as well.
No... it couldn't be...
Perhaps Dumbledore's weakness was simply due to the fact he was having to concentrate much of his magic on keeping up the barrier that was separating Harry from his enemy.
Or maybe, just maybe, Harry thought with a sudden, sickening lurch of his stomach... the Headmaster had decided this was to be his last day on earth, and had made a peace with himself about it.
Upon studying Dumbledore one last time, Harry came to the awful conclusion that was exactly what he had done.
...Son of a bitch...
Muffling a furious roar, he reared back a fist and pounded it into the magical wall in front of him, wishing himself inside, fiercely willing the glowing sapphire strength to give way...
And for one brief, incredible moment, Harry's fist sunk through the wall in front of him as if it were made out of some sort of neon, gelatinous material. Instantly, tiny electric blue lightning bolts began surging through the shield toward his hand as if the barrier itself recognised an intruder and was attempting an attack.
He was so surprised at being able to move even an inch through the shield that it took a moment for his brain to register the sudden flood of pain that ran all along his nervous system.
Quickly he yanked back his fist, the hand coming free with an odd sucking noise and held it up in front of his face, noting with sudden clarity that there was no permanent damage done.
"Harry, have you heard a bloody word I've said?" said Ron frowning, oblivious to what had just happened.
For a moment, Harry was unable to answer him. He stared past his own hand and back at Voldemort and Dumbledore as they fought, their forms appearing blue-tinged and wavery through the shield.
Voldemort launched some sort of lightning-fast severing charm on Dumbledore, one which the Headmaster was not able to fully defend himself against, and which ended up leaving a deep, curving gash from one side of his chest up to the top of his clavicle. Dumbledore grasped at the wound and immediately launched a counter-attack; one which hit it's mark and blasted Voldemort backward a few feet, but did little to slow him down.
It was then Harry began to realise almost stupidly that all the power, all the strength he and everyone else had always known Dumbledore to have was purely because of his magic, and could never cover the fact he had simply grown very old and frail in body. Perhaps it was his reflexes, and not his magic that was beginning to wane, or maybe it was the fact he was having to use too much of his energy in keeping the barrier up that separated Harry from his enemy. In any case, fact was he seemed to be only just keeping himself in the game...
A dark, shrewd grin suddenly broke out on Voldemort's face as he regained his footing. The blackened, uneven teeth proved a sharp contrast to the snow white of his sunken skeletal face; his blazing red, snake-like eyes now narrowed with a gross realisation...
A nauseating horror begin to swirl about in Harry's stomach.
Dumbledore was weakening with every passing moment- and Voldemort knew it.
"He's bleeding!" Ron exclaimed, openly gaping at the Headmaster from behind Harry. "Don't think I've ever seen Dumbledore wounded…"
"I reckon no one's ever got him weak enough to do it before," said Harry quietly, not bothering to turn and face Ron as he spoke.
An expression of hard resolve began to crawl over Harry's face. As he thought back to the extraordinary thing he had been able to do only moments ago, it took him only a matter of seconds to make his mind up.
Merlin, let it weaken... let it let me through... Let me be strong enough...
Harry whispered aloud, unaware he had done so. "...Got to get in there..."
"And how'll we go about doing that?" Ron snorted sceptically, gesturing at the forcefield. "Damn shield's about two feet thick and holding strong. I don't suppose it's easy for Dumbledore to keep this thing up and duel at the same time but somehow he's doing it, isn't he?"
I've got to do it... At least I know maybe I can break through...
Harry tensed, instinctively knowing Ron's reaction, and prepared himself. "We aren't going to, Ron. I am."
Ron frowned at his statement, but the impact of Harry's words and what he was planning to do dawned on him too late.
Let it break... Let it let me through... I WILL GET THROUGH...
Harry mentally steeled himself against the pain headed his way, gripped his sword tightly, and without a backwards glance at Ron suddenly launched himself forward, forcing his mind with an iron-hard will to focus on what he wanted to do.
"What the fu…" Harry heard Ron begin angrily as he slammed into the barrier with his left side and began to sink through, his face screwed up in concentration, and those same thin water-blue lightning rods suddenly stinging at every part of his body.
All sight and sound of battle utterly disappeared for the few brief moments he moved himself through the thick wall; inside his ears roaring with the odd sound of having been plunged underwater. It was the strangest sensation he had ever felt. The small electric bolts jolted painfully along his body with every push forward he made, agonising warning zaps rocketing through his fingers, his toes, his eyes, his chest, his arms and legs; the sharp pain spasming along his entire nervous system. It was like trying to push through some sort of wet, thickly-charged protoplasm, though he had never before encountered anything like it with which to compare...
Finally, after what seemed like minutes, when in reality it had to have been only seconds, he squelched through to the other side and crumpled to the ground, his body oddly dry although it had felt drenched with the blue stuff, and still twitching with the odd pang shooting through his nerves.
Thankfully, neither Voldemort nor Dumbledore seemed to have noticed him break through yet, and continued blasting at each other.
In a few seconds Harry was able to stand on jelly-like legs, and he turned back round to see Ron who was now furiously attempting the same thing he had just done. He was ramming and pounding against the blue barrier which had somehow, unexpectedly, become solid once more.
"Harry!" He screamed furiously, and to Harry's extreme displeasure, he saw Hermione some ways behind Ron flying towards them, her expression one of complete horror.
"What the bloody hell have you done!?" Ron yelled furiously from behind the wall, the exposed skin from his fist down to his elbow showing an angry red from the pounding he had given it. He gave the wall another hard punch but it held solid, the muffled zapping sound from the electrical charge on the other side apparent even to Harry, himself.
Behind Ron, Harry saw a huge, filthy troll suddenly bear down on him, rearing back with its giant tree limb sized club to take a deadly swipe.
"Ron, watch yourself!"
Ron whipped about with wand instantly outstretched and screamed out a defensive curse so powerful it sent the large creature rocketing backward into two Death Eaters behind him, crushing them under his weight.
He whirled back round to Harry instantly and speared him with a hard, furious gaze.
"Listen mate, I can see it hasn't dawned on you yet you NEED Hermione and me to..."
"You're needed out there," said Harry forcefully. "Help Dad and Sirius mop up and keep an eye on Hermione. It's me that's got to kill him, Ron…"
"And you need US backing you up to DO it!" Ron exclaimed furiously, his face flushing red to the tips of his ears and both hands clenched tightly into fists. Harry could tell Ron wished he was cursing him right about then.
"For the love of bloody Godric Harry, you'd better get it through your thick skull RIGHT NOW we're NOT letting you fight him alone!"
"I knew I could get through the shield, Ron!" Harry countered. "I've got to get to Dumbledore, he doesn't have much time left and I won't waste it standing here arguing with you!"
"Damn right you won't!" Ron yelled again, eyeing the large blue wall in front of him. "You're going to use it to get us in there with you... NO DON'T ARGUE, DAMMIT! You got in, Hermione and I can too! Find some way, just... just help me get it down!"
Harry watched Hermione for a fraction of a second frantically wending her way between duels and battles to get to them, her long, curly brown hair flying out behind her, her wand casting curses and jinxes and blasting wizards and witches out of her way as she ran.
She was very close to reaching them, so Harry took the few moments before she got there to stab Ron with a very serious look.
"Ron, I don't want Hermione in here. I couldn't bear to lose either of you…gods, if I can spare you two I will..." Ron immediately began to protest but Harry shouted out above him. "NO dammit, listen to me...!"
"No Harry, you listen to me!" A flushed Hermione panted furiously as she stopped short beside Ron, her hair a mess of tangled curls, and her clothes ripped, dirty and covered in the blood of those she had been desperately trying to help. "Don't you do this to us, you hear me!? Don't you even dare!"
Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment and opened them to look down into Hermione's face. For the first time he could remember, he wished she was not there.
"Love, I've got to go to him. I'm sorry... If something should happen, I wan... I just... I want you to take care of each other. Promise me..."
"No, shut up... shut...UP, Harry! The way you feel about losing Ron and I is the same bloody way we feel about losing you!" said Hermione, her large, thickly lashed brown eyes brimming with furious tears. "You left me once to fight him alone. You won't be doing it again."
Harry stared down at her, his jaw working and his eyes boring into hers, desperate for her to understand. For one brief moment he raised a hand as if to stroke her cheek, only to drop it moments later upon remembering almost stupidly that the wall was separating them.
He glanced at Ron and saw the same angry, fierce determination on his face as he fingered his wand.
Knowing they might both hate him for it, he steeled himself and shook his head.
"I won't help you to die. No. I won't do it."
He began to back away.
"Harry, please! If you made it in there I know you can find a way to let down that barrier!" Hermione cried out desperately, fear zinging through her chest as she watched him through the wall, his tall, blue, wavering image moving away from them. "We can't get in there but somehow you CAN! We've got to help you fight him, you know we do..."
"No I don't!" Harry exclaimed, his face reddening. "I'm supposed to kill him- not you, not Ron, ME! That's what I know! That's what I'm going to do!"
Ron gritted his teeth in fury and began screaming at him. "AND WHAT ABOUT THE PROPHECY, HARRY!? Are you just going to FORGET all Trelawney's said abou..."
"FUCK THE PROPHECY! Fuck ALL of it!" Harry bellowed wildly in return, all of the frustration and fear that had been simmering just below the surface suddenly boiling over. He swung his sword up parallel to his side and eyed them both. "For once, I'm going to protect the people I love instead of being the reason they die early! For once, I'M going to decide my own bloody future!"
"You don't think Ron and I have the same rights!?" Hermione shouted back, furious tears streaming down her face. "And what about OUR future, Harry!? Yours and mine... what about that!?"
Harry opened his mouth to retort but suddenly Ron and Hermione, both struck momentarily dumb and looking past him, began to completely drain of colour.
His heart hammering at the looks on their faces, Harry suddenly whipped around.
Dumbledore and Voldemort had paused their battle and had turned about to discover finally that Harry had joined them.
Voldemort began to grin.
Hermione screamed.
Dumbledore, dropping both of his arms to his sides, suddenly looked impossibly old and worn.
This was it.
Harry glanced back at Ron and Hermione with one last, longing look at both them- one that spoke volumes of goodbyes. Then he turned his back on them, tuned out their cries, gripped the handle of Godric Gryffindor's sword and began to approach the two tall wizards in front of him.
Dumbledore, who stood between Harry and his target, looked at once emotionally defeated.
"Ah, Harry... I had hoped you would not find a way through my shield." He frowned, not in disbelief or confusion about what Harry had done, but in sadness. "How I wish you had not."
"I had to get in," said Harry, his sword up and at eye level. "You knew I had to."
A fresh surge of adrenaline mixed with powerful magic coursed through him, supplying him with a much needed new strength. An electrical blue hum of energy wavered like a sapphire cloud about his body as he stepped cautiously forward. He did not even look at Dumbledore but stared past him at the ominously still form of Voldemort, who still bore that maddening grin plastered on his face.
"I have failed, then."
Harry heard the words almost as clearly as if Dumbledore had spoken them loud and clear, though it had been a mere whisper.
Harry glanced at him and merely shook his head. "No. Nothing is done, yet."
"Oh, it will be," said Voldemort with a touch of something indecipherable in his voice.
Harry fixed him with a hard gaze. "Yes, it will."
Dumbledore stood stock still eyeing Voldemort, the cogs in his mind turning with rapid clarity and complete force of will. Whatever he had to sacrifice, he would... not only to help Harry, but for the good of the entire wizarding world. One life did not matter when compared with the loss of thousands later on should the dark lord win this battle and escape... Whatever had to be done would be done...
No sooner had the thoughts formed in the Headmaster's mind than Voldemort put his promises to the test.
Before Harry even realised what was happening, Voldemort thrust out his sword, struck it hard with his wand, and magically sent it rocketing across the distance separating them.
When Harry thought back on it later, he remembered everything about those next brief moments in such great detail that it seemed almost implausible that he had barely processed any fear or thought of reaction, though he finally realised he hadn't even had time to think.
Somehow in the next couple of seconds his mind comprehended the blinding flash of sunlight as it glinted off the flat sides of the heavy, travelling blade; the sharp, murderous tip as it came hurtling toward his chest at an almost impossible speed; the silver handle glittering with emeralds as it turned round and round in flight...
There was no time for speaking a counter-curse; there was barely time for a breath. The blade was coming at him too fast to form coherent thought or even to move out of its path...
...And a deep, booming voice that had always commanded the utmost authority and fearful awe suddenly bellowed out into the absolute silence of those few seconds.
"NO!"
Dumbledore then did the last most incredible, and most self-sacrificing thing he could ever, and would ever do. In a final, emotional burst of incredible magical speed and complete lack of concern for himself, he moved lightning fast to throw himself in front of Harry, cast his arms out wide before Harry could stop him and took the blade full on.
Harry had time to blink only once before he watched the sword punch through Dumbledore's lower chest to come out bloody through his back, had time to yell only once as the loud grunt the Headmaster gave must have indicated the hilt had hit home and could move no further; had time to take only one half-step forward as the Headmaster crumpled to the ground before he could even reach him...
No sooner had Dumbledore's body fallen and lain still than Voldemort raised his wand and summoned the sword back to him. Stunned and temporarily dazed, Harry watched the bloody blade pull out of the Headmaster's body and soar back, hilt first, toward its owners outstretched hand.
And part of Trelawny's prediction suddenly sped through Harry's thoughts with the speed and intensity of a freight train.
"Lest one whose worth is not yet known, should yield his life for his own..."
Dumbledore had just given his life for Harry's... he had 'yielded' his life for another who belonged to his family- one of his 'own'.
Harry began shaking his head, his eyes filling with tears.
Nonononononono... it's not right, he shouldn't have... he can't be dead... not like this... not for me...
Dumbledore stared up at him for a few seconds more with eyes full of unspoken things, before blackness took him over.
Up above it all, the blue hue of the early summer sky, (though the temperature in the forest continued to feel almost winter-like) began to morph into a light grey, the fluffy white clouds beginning to swell and grow heavy. The cold, wispy breeze that had been a constant all morning throughout the battle began to blow a bit harder; the gusting a bit ominous as it whistled mournfully through the trees, picking up dead leaves and whirling them about in erratic dances...
Although technically the sword had not hit its mark, (or had it?) Voldemort looked up toward the sky and smiled even wider before he focussed again on Harry, who stood next to Dumbledore's body.
"And then there were two, Potter."
Harry needed only a moment to comprehend what he meant. There were only two heirs left to Slytherin now; Voldemort and himself.
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"Professor Dumbledore! Oh my god, no...!" Hermione screamed out upon seeing the Headmaster fall, frantically slamming a hand against the shield before drawing it back again with a hiss of pain. The change in the sky above instantly brought back to mind the dream she, Harry and Ron had shared this summer. Though she knew Voldemort had only planted it in their minds as a way to try unnerving them, it would appear he had been right about certain things that might happen should the final battle begin going his way.
Oh gods this can't be happening... Harry...
"Son of a BITCH!" Ron roared aloud, punching the forcefield in frustration. "I can't even make a bloody dent in this thing! Harry wades through as if it's some giant bloody wall of goo, and I can't even poke a damn finger through!"
Hermione chewed anxiously on her knuckles; her face a picture of intense concentration as she willed herself to come up with the answer.
Think... think, Hermione! Surely you've seen some sort of counter-spell for magical barriers in one of the hundreds of books you've read! Please, oh Godric please let me think of something...
"Pounding at it certainly won't be what breaks it," said a quavery, ethereal voice from behind Ron, and it startled him so completely that he whirled about mid-strike at the wall with his wand aimed.
"It should have fallen wh..when Dumbledore did. He's obviously ensured it would hold up even if he... if he did not."
Professor Trelawny stood before Ron and Hermione looking completely dishevelled. Her outfit, minus its usual drapes of shawls and many bangles and beads was mucky with dirt and wand ash; bloodied holes in the fabric torn round where she must have sustained wounds; her thick-lensed glasses askew and cracked where they sat on her nose. Somehow though, although she continued shaking involuntarily at what she had just witnessed, she was able to maintain her sense of the otherworldly.
Ron gritted his teeth and lowered his wand, making a disgusted noise. "We don't have time for this..."
"You'll make time if you want to get through that wall," she interrupted him harshly, and her voice, for only the second time Ron could remember, suddenly lost it's mystic quality and sounded natural.
Hermione seized the Professor's arm and looked square into her bespectacled, magnified eyes. "If you know of a way to break through, tell us."
Trelawny pursed her lips as she stared through to the fallen Headmaster, her body trembling slightly. "Dumbledore's an exceptionally powerful wizard. I suspect there's some reason, some extra power Potter has that enabled him to break through, but I assure you neither I nor anyone else so far has been able to do it."
Frowning at her words, Hermione focussed her attention further down at other areas of the barrier and began to realise she and Ron weren't the only ones desperately trying to break the spell.
Several Aurors and Ministry officials from Dumbledore's army dotted round the thing, taking wand shots at it and muttering to themselves. Most noticeably, a haggard Sirius, Lupin/James, and Hagrid were firing curses at it one right after the other, sometimes all together; blue, green, and red jets of light flying from their wands at the wall, and bouncing back off it just as easily.
Sirius shouted frustrated obscenities as they stared in at Harry, Voldemort and Dumbledore; frantic looks of fear on their faces. Hagrid pounded at the wall as if brute strength might somehow be its undoing, paying no attention to the many painful electric stings he was receiving. For his own part, and completely pale with worry, James looked ready to kill.
"Do you have a way to do it, or not!?" Ron shouted, focussing his attention back on Trelawny. "Otherwise stop wasting our time..."
"It's going to take quite a large crowd," she answered, moving forward to stare past Ron. "It's a very powerful bit of magic... Anyway, Potter looks as if he's adding his own to it. There's no one or two of us who will do it alone."
Ron and Hermione instantly focussed on Harry and saw that somehow he had conjured the presence of mind to raise a hand toward the barrier and use his own magic to further fortify it. Hermione stared in at him and, as if he sensed her eyes on him, he deftly avoided her gaze and turned back round to his enemy. Because she knew him so well, she knew even now the engulfing, all-consuming grief he must be feeling upon having just watched yet another someone else he cared for so greatly fall to his death. She knew now he must want more than ever to keep anyone else from getting in there to help him, no matter what the consequence, and it was this last thought more than anything that made her chest throb with fear.
"What'd you mean 'a large crowd' !?" she said very quickly, forcing her gaze away from Harry and gripping her wand tight. "Wait... wait, you mean an incantation!? Something everyone focuses on together, don't you? I don't remember reading about an 'incantation' to break powerful spells... why don't I know about it!?"
"I don't suppose you would no matter how often you've visited the library," Trelawny said with a distinct sniff. "It's not the sort of powerful spell-degrading type magic Dumbledore would want his students trying to sabotage each other with, is it? Furthermore, the root of 'incantation' can be found in divination, and those wizards unlike myself who are not gifted with extrasensory powers have always perceived the art to be unreliab..."
"We only care if it works!" Ron interrupted angrily.
"Of course it works!" Trelawny answered with an indignant glare. "I've used many an incantation to..."
Hermione cut her off. "But if we need the others to do it and they're still fighting..."
"My dear girl," said the professor, waving her hand about and turning round to look behind her. "Take a look past what's right in front of you. Our part of the war has almost ended."
Ron and Hermione focussed past Trelawny, their jaws dropping open at their own ignorance. They had been so intent on what had been happening inside Dumbledore's barrier that the war still waging on behind them had become a blurred second place. In a very few brief moments they managed to take in a lifetime of horror and victory.
The entire clearing circling them was littered with broken bodies, most dead, though some others were still crawling about and wounded. Moans and cries of pain still split the otherwise calm morning. There were loads more bodies sprawled here and there and over one another than before, covered in wounds and wand ash.
A group of around five Dementors were surrounded by what looked like some sort of wavering red imprisonment shield. It looked to be the same type of imperturbable magic Dumbledore had conjured to keep himself and Voldemort confined together.
Aurors and Order members, some wounded and some as yet still unscathed were dragging those they had subdued to one side and making sure they were properly disarmed before leading them over to what looked like a makeshift, temporary prison camp. Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a number of Ministry officials had wands aimed at a large group of disarmed Death Eaters on the ground who had been instructed to lie face down with arms stretched forward. Bane the Centaur, surrounded with two others of his kind sat with his long, muscular horses legs folded under him and large hands spread flat on the ground before him. The remaining goblins and one large troll were also nearby, their bodies laid out flat and unmoving.
Those students and Professors from Hogwarts who had made it out alive were, for the most part, slumped in various stages of exhausted stupefaction in a large circle near the edge of the clearing. Each face seemed stricken with dazed horror, most eyes fixed on the battle going on inside Dumbledore's shield, and at the fallen Headmaster.
Madame Pomfrey was tending to the wounded along with whoever else she had found to help her who possessed even marginal healing skills. Hermione felt a brief pang of guilt for not helping as well, but it passed upon glancing fearfully back at Harry and Voldemort. Her place now, she reasoned with herself, was with Harry and Ron.
The ground was muddy with blood; bodies, severed limbs, and even, to Hermione's horror, a troll's head lay amongst what she could see of the gruesome battlefield. However, it was clear one side had won out over the other. And it had been theirs.
"We must gather everyone together quickly," said Trelawny, snapping them back to the present.
Hermione glanced breathlessly up at Ron and then back at the Professor. "Circle about the shield?"
Trelawny nodded. "It'll take a great amount of combined magic for this one. We'll have to work together. It's an ancient incantation..."
But Ron and Hermione had already taken off, headed toward the one large group of witches and wizards who seemed to have nothing to do at the present moment: the combined inhabitants of Hogwarts.
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Up above the sky continued darkening, slowly changing from a light grey to a dark ashy colour; the sun now almost completely shadowed over with dark, black-lined clouds. The wind changed too, no longer the gusty breeze that danced the leaves, but now a half-hearted gale that promised an approaching storm...
Harry stared down at Dumbledore's still form, and watched as darkness finally ate the last bit of sun-lit ground, leaving the whole forest in an early twilight-like state. He turned his downward tilted gaze just slightly from the Headmaster to glance back up again at the dark lord.
However, instead of the fear and numb despair Voldemort might have expected, Harry's eyes began to glow and crackle bright electric green with a hard rage. The cold wind whipped his black Gryffindor's robes about his legs; his hair, already untidy, now tousled about his head, making him look even more wild. The hand wrapped about the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword gripped it so tight his fingers turned white. The sapphire cloud that had disappeared upon watching the Headmaster take what had been meant for him suddenly snapped to life with intensity, the power radiating off of him in such dense, heavy waves that Voldemort himself, some distance back, could feel the heat brush against his face.
Harry began to stalk toward him.
Voldemort threw out his wand.
"Debilito!"
The curse barely missed him and hurtled toward one part of the magical barrier. The red energy slammed into the blue wall and instantly splintered wide all along it into what looked like a massive purple-glowing cobweb.
Unfazed, Harry continued forward at a faster pace.
"Difflare!"
Again the magic passed him by as if it had been nothing more than another gust of wind and blasted a hole into the ground behind him.
"Acrimordeo!"
Another miss. Voldemort stiffened and screamed aloud with rage.
"CRUCIO!"
Dodging it by mere inches, Harry began running toward him and, with a hoarse, anguished scream, reared back, swung his sword upward and brought it back down on Voldemort's own with a hard, resounding CRASH, his whole being intent on causing as much bloodshed and physical pain as possible.
Voldemort shoved backward with all his might and managed to push Harry back just enough to begin meeting him blow for punishing blow.
Pain radiated from Harry's arms downward as he reacted to every lunge and parry with maddening speed, his body jarred and aching with the vibrations the blades made each time they met; the clanging sound of metal on metal ringing in his ears. He ducked a swipe to his head and simultaneously tried an upper sweeping cut to Voldemort's torso, missing by centimetres as the dark lord jumped backward. An instant later, he began fighting off a furious rapid succession of retaliating slices and cuts. Voldemort stabbed at him again and he managed to miss it with a violent twist of his body, kicking out simultaneously and catching him in the abdomen. Voldemort doubled over, and Harry was given a momentary breather. He began to realise his reflexes were growing sluggish and his energy, rapidly evaporating. His chest rose and fell heavily as he gasped for air, his clothes sweat-soaked and sticky with blood that had begun oozing again from barely healed stabs.
For a moment, and unable to help himself, he let his eyes travel to the old wizard who lay bleeding and impaled on the ground some few yards from them. The sword had not gone through his heart but had punctured the other side of his chest, so there was the very faint possibility he was still alive, though Harry almost dared not hope. If he were still alive he was now bleeding to death on the forest floor with no one to help him. However, Harry knew he dared not try to lower the shield. He couldn't risk Voldemort's escape or those he might try to harm if he got out. The duel really was down now to only the two of them...
Suddenly Voldemort came at him again with a mix of hard slashes and swings and finally, managed to shove Harry backward far enough that he was able to raise his wand in a wide slashing motion.
"Abscindo!"
"Shit! Dammit..."
Harry swiped the back of his hand against his stinging cheek and brought it back down, absently noting a bright red smear of blood and immediately angry with himself for losing focus. The powerful decapitating curse had narrowly missed doing its job, and had brushed by him so closely it left a stinging cut lashed across his cheek.
Instantly he forced all distracting thoughts from his mind and moved his emotions into check. He lowered his sword and raised his other hand.
"Aspello!"
Voldemort threw out his wand, apparently intent on deflecting the curse but had not banked on the amount of angry power thrown behind it. The driving spell hit him full on, blasting him backward off his feet, tearing the sword and wand from his hands, and slamming his entire body into the shield some five yards behind him. Instantly the forcefield began to zap him with painful energy bolts, the crackling sizzling energy loud and echoing as it sounded throughout the barrier.
However, Harry was almost unprepared for how quickly Voldemort recovered. He had run closer, and was barely a few feet from him when Voldemort wrenched himself away from the wall, his blackened teeth bared in a feral snarl as his chest heaved in and out, and his red eyes narrowed to slits.
Harry stopped short.
"Come now, Potter... Is that really the best you can do?" Voldemort taunted furiously as he summoned his wand. Harry raised his hand to counter the summons but was not fast enough. It soared so quickly into the dark lord's outstretched hand that it appeared blurred mid-flight.
Voldemort smiled as he fingered the wooden stick. "As you can see, you'll have to try harder than that."
Harry threw up his hand. "Effundomolior!"
"Recidivus!"
Voldemort caught the whole of the curse with his wand and hurled it back at Harry who was almost unprepared for the quick return. At the last moment he swung his sword up to deflect it, the red energy slamming into the sword full force with a loud reverberating PING and throwing him backward to the ground; the blade pushing toward his face and vibrating so hard that, as Harry gripped it as tightly as he could, it was all he could do to hang on to it.
In the moments it took for the painful jolting of magic to stop flaring along his system, his sword having acted almost as a conductor for the lightning-like red energy, Voldemort bore down on him.
Harry, exhausted and in pain, had made it almost to his knees as the tall black-robed form swung his own sword up and over his head and back downward, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.
Salazar Slytherin's blade crashed down hard on Godric Gryffindor's, the resultant force behind it bringing Harry's own quivering sword centimetres from his nose. His biceps, which had been aching before, now positively screamed in pain as he forced his sword upward with all his might under the crushing weight, his mind boggling at the strength dark magic gave the skeletal man above him. Harry knew he dared not try lifting one hand from the hilt of his sword to try cursing; moment he did, he knew he would be cut in two.
Voldemort gripped tightly about the hilt of his sword and pressed down on the blade, his foul breath puffing closely to Harry's face; his eyes wide and glowing with what looked like hellish red flames...
"You feel it, don't you Harry?" he wheezed happily. "My powers are returning to me... With each step toward victory I take the stronger and stronger they become..."
Voldemort chanced a quick glance upward without letting up on his sword's pressure and then looked back down into his enemy's face.
Shaking from exertion, Harry looked up as well and felt his stomach flip over as he saw the dark clouds above him mixing with one another, much as if they were being stirred by a giant, invisible spoon. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slid down his face to drip off his chin as his eyes swept the horizon. Here and there, large flashes of unearthly red lightning punctured the very beginnings of the forming tornado.
Gods, so tired... It would be so easy just to let go...
Dad, Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione... My family.
Hold on... I've got to hold on...
He pushed even harder against the sword Voldemort was holding, the blades grinding and scraping against one another with jarring metallic sounds. Every fibre of his being was painfully aware that if he lost this battle with Voldemort the dark lord would go on to kill Ron and Hermione, and after, have ultimately have gained enough power that it would be near impossible to stop him again no matter how many Aurors and ministry officials waited outside the barrier.
Voldemort gave another glance upward.
"The vortex has begun to form..." he continued as he strained against Harry's blade. "It is the way I thought it would be... I'm so close... Too bad you've ensured the other two cannot come to your aid; in doing so you've given me the upper hand. It was a foolish thing to do, was it not?"
Harry shook his head against Voldemort's words, dirt from the ground mixing with sweat in his hair.
No, it wasn't foolish. I love them.
He would not give in to the bastard... he would NOT...
"You have always been foolish, haven't you Potter? Foolish in life and with those you claim to love," Voldemort continued, sneering hatefully at the word. "It was you who made yourself known to them; who let them close to you in the first place, knowing the end result. And what have you promised them in return... an early grave? How very gracious of you."
Harry muffled an anguished sound and shoved upward even harder, fear powering limbs that might have long ago given up.
Voldemort put the whole of his body weight behind his blade, practically laying on the sword.
"In a few moments it will not matter which side has won. When I have killed you, the Weasel and your mudblood whore will surely try to avenge you. When you, and finally they are disposed of, every bit of the magic I lost sixteen years ago will be returned. This small, pitiful victory will be meaningless in the face of what I will bring..."
************************************
The dark grey sky above continued to churn restlessly in a large swirl of sinister looking clouds; loud, resounding CRACKS and growling thunder following each stab of ruby red lightning that punctured its dark shroud. The wind was a mad gale, whistling hard through the dead limbs above, bowing and breaking dried out shrubs, and whipping tent flaps, robes, hair and every other thing about in a mad frenzy. The top of a large funnel was now swirling inward and down to form a long, thin body, the curvy, cylindrical shape slowly dancing downward to meet the ground...
"Hurry!" Hermione screamed aloud, urging the rest of Hogwarts on as they sprinted behind her toward the large blue barrier.
She could see Harry on the ground underneath Voldemort's sword, his wavery blue image pushing upward with all of his might against the blade bent on cutting him in two. A whine of panic rang in her head and, with an almost Herculean effort, she pushed it away.
Trelawny and Ron were directly behind her, and upon reaching the shield all three began shoving students and teachers alike toward the edges of the magical wall, forcing them to circle round it.
"Sybil, what in Godric's name do you plan to..." began a breathless Professor McGonnagol beside Trelawny.
"Just you leave it to me," Trelawny replied tartly. "I know you've never quite believed in Divination or any art associated with it, Minerva, but just this once I'm asking you to trust me..."
Beside McGonnagol, James raised his voice.
"Putting all differences aside Sybil; whatever you can do to drop this shield, DO it. My son won't last much longer under that."
Trelawny gave him a curt nod and eyed the circle of wizards and witches who now completely surrounded the large shield.
"WANDS OUT!" she bellowed above the sound of the cold gusting wind.
***********************************************************
Inside the barrier, the thin dancing vortex began lowering itself to hover just yards above Voldemort, the sound of it now screaming loud like an approaching train.
Harry looked far up into the eye of the tornado above him and for a moment, watched the debris-filled cylinder as it undulated above them; fat red bolts of lightning piercing it within and without.
He summoned the last bit of his strength he had and punched one of his knees hard into one of the dark lord's kidneys.
With a startled grunt Voldemort fell onto his side and Harry rolled over and away from him, his mouth open and gasping for breath and his chest heaving. Slowly, he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled as far away from his enemy as he could.
In a few moments Voldemort, though out of breath himself, was back on his feet. He tossed his sword to the ground in favour of his wand, and whipped about.
Harry tried to get to his feet but his strength had finally given out. With a small grunt he dropped back to his knees on the ground. One hand held him upright, his fingernails digging into the dirt. The other he managed to thrust out in front of his face, readying himself.
Voldemort smirked and yelled above the roaring wind. "Enough! It is time... PESTIS CONLABOUR!"
Harry screamed out with all his might. "RETROACTUM!"
The two curses met mid-air, blue magic on red forming a great, arced, purple-gold strand of energy in the middle.
Both Voldemort and Harry grimaced but held on with all of their might; Voldemort gripping his vibrating wand tightly, and Harry, still on his knees, now supporting one arm with the other.
Tiny orbs of glowing golden light appeared on the beam, travelling very slowly toward Voldemort.
The dark lord concentrated, mentally focussing on the beads. They changed direction, crawling at a snail's pace toward Harry's outstretched hand.
They had been in this situation before.
*********************************************************************
Around fifty or so wands pointed at the wavering blue energy in front of them.
"We must say it together!" Trelawny yelled above the din, only momentarily distracted by the awesome image of Potter and the dark lord bound together by the meeting of their magics, and on the whirling tornado above it all. "Repeat after me!"
James Potter and Sirius Black, a bit down the line nodded briefly to her, their eyes fixed on Harry and Voldemort.
"EVANESCO IS MAGUS! LICET QUIDEM EXCINDO!" (Vanish (disappear) this magic. Allow the thing to be utterly destroyed.)
It took a few moments for the words to reach all the way round the circle.
When all were finally saying it together, magic began to pour forth; a complete circle of different blinding colours all bursting forth from each wand and pounding at the blue shield.
In moments, an extraordinary thing began to happen.
The shield began wavering almost as if it were on some unstable ground, its walls rippling and bloating with magic to almost double their size. A kaleidoscope of colour now pulsated within it- greens, purples, reds, yellows, blues and every other known colour- the brightness almost blinding in its intensity. Just when it seemed the shield would not be able to hold up any more, its undulating walls suddenly BURST outward in a brilliant display of power and light, as if they had been filled to the brim with magic and could not hold any more.
Hands flew over faces and eyes to protect them, but no one was harmed. The wall had quite suddenly disintegrated into nothingness, leaving Harry and Voldemort within nothing but a circle of bodies; the hair and robes of all still tousling wildly in the harsh, screaming wind.
Neither one was able to do anything about what had just happened round them and continued to focus the golden beads pulsating along the beam back toward the other...
Madame Pomfrey rushed forward first, throwing herself down on the ground beside Dumbledore, her wand out instantly and waving over his still form. In moments she had levitated him back toward the circling crowd.
Hermione, Ron, Sirius and James immediately dashed toward Harry, all others stumbling back a bit from the sight of Voldemort and the thin tornado dancing above him, as if sure the dark lord might suddenly disengage from Harry and turn on them.
"STAY BACK!" Harry bellowed through gritted teeth above the din of the tornado, as he eyed the four charging toward him from the corner of his eye, his entire body shaking with effort. They stopped at once.
"Please!... Don't know what might happen!..."
Voldemort focussed even harder during Harry's distraction, the black robes engulfing him whipping violently about his thin frame; the white, snake-like face screwed up in concentration and his stance, hard and unyielding.
The golden beads of light passed over the high arc of the beam and began moving perilously down the line towards Harry.
"NO..."
Harry pushed harder, sweat popping out on his forehead, his breathing harsh and laboured. His thighs and knees hurt badly from the effort of keeping him upright; he felt as if they might give out at any moment. His arms and torso shook so badly he felt as if someone were pounding on him.
The golden beads slowed significantly but still crept toward him, despite his best effort to push them away...
And finally, having successfully begun pushing them back toward the dark lord, Voldemort's face suddenly broke out in a black grin.
He raised the hand that was not holding his wand toward the tornado above him, fingers claw-like and outstretched.
A thin, red bolt of lightning struck out from the eye of the tornado and connected with his arm. The light engulfed his hand, travelled down his arm, and swallowed his body in a strange glowing ruby light.
The beads on the beam of purple-gold light passed back over the high arc and moved faster than they had ever done toward Harry.
"He's drawing power from that thing!" a horrified Sirius bellowed, making a move as if to run forward. "He's going to lose, James... Got to help him..."
James grabbed his arm. "No!"
"What the bloody hell do you mean, 'no'!?" yelled Sirius. "It's your son's life on the line here..."
"Not us," yelled James above the noise, his voice shaking with the effort of keeping calm. He pointed to Ron and Hermione who were already moving quickly toward Harry. "Them. They've got to help him, Sirius. They're three parts of a whole. I can feel it. It's got to be them."
******************************************
Ron and Hermione rushed forward, mindless of the powerful wind that tore at their bodies and kept trying to forcefully blow them back.
Once they had come on either side of Harry they both raised their wands and screamed out the same deflection curse Harry had. A great bolt of green shot from Ron's wand, joining with Hermione's purple, and joined the blue coming from Harry's hand, the colours twisting together in the air much as they had done that night a few months prior in Harry and Hermione's common room. The purple-golden beam between Harry and Voldemort suddenly swelled to triple its size, the beads on it now growing to the size of oranges and still trying to bob toward Harry, although much much slower than before.
Screaming aloud with fury, Voldemort tried drawing even more energy from the vortex above him. The red lightning still attached to his hand thickened in power.
Hermione finally realised Harry had been yelling at them the whole time, chanting aloud.
"Be careful, be careful, be careful..."
"It's alright, mate!" Ron screamed. "We're alright..."
"I'm sorry," Harry panted aloud, pushing hard against the large golden orbs so close to his hand. "I'm so sorry, you were right... You were both right, I just didn't wan... I just couldn't let..."
"It's alright," Hermione said close to his ear, sweat now beading on her forehead as well. "Just hang on, Harry..."
Harry managed a nod.
It seemed like hours passed before it finally happened, though in reality, it was only minutes.
Out of instinct, Hermione and Ron moved close enough to Harry that their magics twined even more tightly with his, their arms finally getting close enough to his outstretched one that all three touched.
A hard electric zap of magic burst through all three. Their hair stood on end. Their bodies trembled. None could let go if they wanted to. Something had surrounded and combined their magics, their very beings; twisting them, for a moment, almost into one wizard. They felt giant-like in size, strength and ability. An aura of opaque, pure gold energy surrounded and weaved between them, wavering and billowing much like the sapphire blue had powered off of Harry not long ago, though much, much stronger.
The large golden orbs that had been inches from Harry's hand began moving steadily, smoothly back toward Voldemort. They did not bob or jerk as they travelled, but moved solidly, deliberately, as if it were the only way they could move.
Voldemort screamed aloud, a deep, horrific, furious scream; one that came over even the sounds of the vortex above him, and one so unearthly and monstrous that Harry felt he might never forget its sound.
Those standing, sitting or lying on the forest floor trembled, their eyes wide and unbelieving. The circle of Hogwarts that had moved back from them, moved back even further, utter fascination and complete terror lining each face.
The orbs had passed over the high arc, still moving steadily toward Voldemort's outstretched wand.
"NOOOOOO!"
He drew even harder from the tornado above him, pushed with all his might against the pulsating things inches from the tip of his wand... and failed.
The orbs absorbed into the tip, as if the wood itself were swallowing them. One... two... three...
Four great circles of gold were forced back at, and into him.
What happened next all seemed to happen in a methodical order, as if the universe had planned it out.
Voldemort screamed again, this time as if he were in pain.
The great golden-purple cord connecting him with Harry, Ron and Hermione cracked out of existence; the three crumpling to the ground from exhaustion.
The red magic pulsing around the dark lord expanded, and then disappeared from existence with a loud SNAP.
The ruby lightning that had attached to his hand drew itself back up into the vortex, which now seemed to swirl a bit slower and appear a bit clearer, if that were possible.
Voldemort dropped to his knees, his wand falling useless from his fingers, rendered powerless, now nothing more than a slim, wooden stick.
The tornado above Voldemort pulled itself upward, its thin body shortening and thickening where it moved back toward the dark clouds. It met the horizon and turned into a great dark grey swirl which continued to lighten in colour until finally, it was nothing more than a white-blue swirl of regular clouds. The stirring slowed and slowed until finally, there was no movement above but the lazy drifting of clouds.
The cold, gale of wind in the dead forest suddenly morphed into a light warm summer breeze, instantly warming those within it.
The sun burst forward from the clouds, its beams splintering through the dead branches above and resting in patches on the ground.
All was completely silent.
Harry stood shakily, catching Hermione's hand and giving it a comforting squeeze when she grabbed for him.
On his knees, Voldemort looked up at Harry some five metres in front of him. The wizard once known as the dark lord was now only a grotesquely deformed man, devoid of any magic, no more powerful than the common Muggle.
Harry began to walk toward him.
From the crowd standing round them, James suddenly ran forward and grabbed Harry's arm with cold fingers, his face dirty with dried blood and streaked suspiciously with what looked like tears.
"Son... you don't have to do it. It's over for you. You've defeated him. Let someone else do it."
Harry shook his head. "It's got to be me."
"Why?" James asked, staring at him.
Harry turned his head to look at Voldemort, still glaring defiantly at him, despite the fact he had lost and then turned back to his father.
"I've got to finish it."
James eyed him for a few moments more before letting him go.
Harry approached Voldemort and finally, stood over him.
Voldemort glared up at him hatefully, with just a hint of some unknown triumph in his eyes.
"Go ahead then, Potter. Kill me. I know you want to. See if you're strong enough to use an Unforgivable."
Harry stared down at him. So that was it. If Voldemort could not win, he would probably love for the last thing he saw on the earth to be Harry using the dark arts he hated so much.
"You would think so, wouldn't you?"
Giving a small jerk of his head, Voldemort narrowed his eyes and sneered at Harry.
"You would let me live!?" He wheezed out in his high-pitched voice. "Saviour of the wizarding world... You're nothing more than a weak little bastard, Potter, just like Albus Dumbledore was. Weak, simpering little fool..."
Harry let him talk, and moved two metres to his left, dragging something up off the ground. When he had it, he moved back over to Voldemort and held it aloft.
"Recognise this?" he said, echoing the very words Voldemort had used in his cabin when showing Harry Salazar Slytherin's sword for the first time
Voldemort stared at him, his face blank of emotion, and said nothing.
Harry drew in a deep breath, drew the sword back behind him, and swung it outward as hard as he could in a hard, whistling, downward sloping arc.
Voldemort was killed in an instant, his head neatly separated from his neck and thudding to the ground.
Harry did not waste time staring at what he had done. He dropped the sword to the ground, stumbled back to Hermione and Ron, and threw himself on his knees beside them, drawing them both into an embrace.
He opened his eyes mid-hug for one moment, seeing a large crowd begin to move toward them, his father and Sirius at the forefront. His eyes met the ground. The last thing he saw before passing out from exhaustion, was a small sprig of tender green grass poking its head out from the dry forest floor.
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A/N: WHEW! No, this is not the end. I would not leave the story at the end of the battle.
I hope I didn't go overboard on the symbolism thing, but I so LOVE symbolism, as in Harry using Slytherin's sword to end it all, among others. I thought it was fitting. (Did you all catch the circle of Hogwarts around the barrier? Remember Trelawny's predictions... ;0)
Don't go to hard on me for my Latin, you language buffs out there. I used an on-line Latin site, and I'm sure it's not 100% accurate. I hope you enjoyed the end of the war, (FINALLY) I can hear the lot of you saying. Please, please just leave me a few words to let me know what you thought. I thrive on them! It only takes a few moments, and I've worked really hard. Thanks! I love you all!