The Phoenix Reborn

Prologue – The Last Battle

A cold wind swept across the Hogwarts Lake, angry ripples dancing on its surface as it rebelled against the unnatural temperature on the normally hot June day. Dark clouds roiled overhead, pushing across the sky like a giant shroud, squelching sunlight and with it, hope. Voldemort had come to Hogwarts.

What was left of the Wizarding world had assembled here for a final battle. The forces of light under the banner of Dumbledore pitted against Voldemort’s dark minions. Everyone was afraid, but most held their fear in check until they were face to face with the enemy. Even then, it seemed that the best demoralizing intentions of the Dark Lord could not dishearten those fighting under the Headmaster’s leadership. That is, until Dumbledore fell.

Tonks and Kingsley had been cursed within the first five minutes of the battle, distracted by enemy fire from within the ranks of the students. The D.A. had taken care of the rogue students immediately, but the damage was done. Voldemort waited behind the hosts he had sent streaming through the crushed gates of the school, watching as his Death Eaters, Vampires, and Trolls pummeled the Order of the Phoenix, what was left of the Auror division, regular students, and citizens of Hogsmeade who had fled to Hogwarts for protection.

Bill and Charlie acted as Dumbledore’s guard, sweeping enemy after enemy from before them, leaving Dumbledore to concentrate on fighting off the giants and Trolls. As the ranks of both sides thinned and victory was no nearer for either force, Voldemort walked to the forefront with his cadre of hooded lieutenants. He took out half the ranks of the surviving Aurors with one gigantic spell, leaving a clear field for the remaining Vampires to sweep into the school.

It was then that Harry led his little band of students out of the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, having waited for just such a moment to enter the battle. Ordering his troops like a general, Harry watched his friends and fellow students fight like dragons, besting fully qualified wizards with amazing skill and surprising speed. The tide turned and Voldemort’s dark creatures had been routed, leaving only the Death Eaters at his side.

Weary from the battle, Dumbledore couldn’t shield Bill and Charlie from the full force of Voldemort’s first, furious assault and they fell while the ancient wizard staggered back. With a high shrieking cackle, the Dark Lord pounded on the weakened Headmaster while the rest looked on. Only as his last shields fell, was Harry able to break the stream of curses aimed at his mentor and he watched the greatest wizard in the world collapse in defeat.

Shaking with rage, Harry turned on his nemesis and launched a beam of pure energy at him. “You bastard!” yelled Harry, oblivious to the closing circle of Death Eaters. His attack was deflected, but only just.

“Your anger amuses me, boy,” sneered the snake-like man before him. “But soon you shall join the old fool in death and I will live on forever.”

Harry was about to lash out again, but felt a cool hand on his shoulder. Ginny. A wave of peace filled his soul and his senses cleared. Ron and Hermione joined them, the last of the D.A. capable of standing. “You will not win, Tom,” he said calmly, finally realizing how Dumbledore had remained so serene in every confrontation with the most feared wizard in the world.

“I already have.” All traces of amusement left his face as he straightened his unnaturally thin frame. “The Ministry is in ruins, there are no Aurors left to oppose me, Dumbledore is defeated...”

“You will not win,” Harry repeated, his voice soft, but firm and undaunted. “I will not let you kill another person while I live.”

Voldemort’s piercing laugh rolled over the dead and dying strewn across the grass between the castle and the lake. “I don’t intend to let you live.”

The last battle of the second war against Voldemort lasted what seemed like hours, stretching the endurance of both sides. Harry’s power surprised the Dark Lord and the sounds of their duel echoed for miles. Lightning and thunder flashed between them, echoing off shields, ripping through flesh and soon, only the two of them were still engaged in battle.

Harry couldn’t see the end. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold on, but he knew that everything was up to him now. He was all that was left to stand against the evil that Tom Riddle was ready to unleash on the world, Muggle and Wizard alike. So he held on.

Night fell, rain lashed against them and Harry knew that there would be no retreating, no second chances, and as he felt the pain in his scar ebb with the diminishment of their magical reserves, he clung to one last desperate plan. Summoning the rest of his magic, he pooled it together and was about to unleash a final spell that would destroy Voldemort and take Harry with it, when a flash of red appeared between he and his foe.

Harry hadn’t seen Voldemort raise his wand again, or hear him begin to utter the words, AVADA KEDAVRA. He did see the sickly green light meet the flowing crimson hair of his Ginny before she slumped to the earth and let out her last breath. Losing his concentration, the spell slipped from his wand, tearing out with it all but the pain that had gripped his heart, striking his adversary in the chest.

It was as if a giant hand had slapped him across the face and chest, shoving him across the trampled grass. A tremendous clap of thunder shattered his glasses and left his ears ringing, but when he pulled himself off the ground to face Voldemort again, all that was left was a smoking ruin of robes and a pile of bloody ashes. Tom Riddle was dead.

Slowly, dragging his feet with fear and exhaustion, Harry walked to where she lay still. His knees buckled and he hit the hard ground, pushing her hair off her face with a trembling hand. He looked up at the sound of sobs mingling with his own and saw Hermione cradling another redhead in her arms.

Harry looked back to Ginny and traced his finger on her lips; lips he had kissed so many times in life, that were now cold in death. Tears burned in his eyes and a great racking cry ripped out of his throat.

“GINNY!” he cried into her bosom as he clung to her limp body. “Ginny!”

Time was meaningless. The sun rose again, breaking through the once stifling clouds. Still, Harry held her to him and cried her name, as if by some magic of longing and desire, he could keep her here with his voice.

At long length, his tears unable to form and his throat unable to cry her name, Harry pulled away from her and saw Hermione kneeling in front of him. Her red, puffy eyes and wet cheeks bore witness that he was not alone in his utter desolation and it was this one thing that kept his sanity.

Without words of assent, they moved away from Ginny’s body and held each other, unable to cry but desperately wanting to.

*

The next day dawned clear and peaceful, as if the destruction and death that Harry had witnessed the previous afternoon had never occurred. Harry lay awake in the Hospital Wing, one of the only undamaged sections of the school, staring blankly at the stone ceiling. He had not slept since the night before Voldemort’s fall and he did not think he ever could again.

“Harry,” a soft voice called to him from his right. He did not turn to look at her. “You need to drink this,” she insisted.

Harry complied, swallowing the strengthening potion, and then returning to gaze at the ceiling. She moved to sit by him on the bed, but Harry did not react; he simply couldn’t.

Something warm took his hand.

“I used to think that the war would be over and I’d be able to finally be me for a change.” She spoke softly, warmly, and Harry listened. “I used to believe that I’d never lose anyone close to me – that you and...” Her voice halted and Harry could feel the same choking sensation in his throat that must have been in hers. “Ron,” she blurted at length. “That you and Ron would make it through, and we’d be able to live our lives together again, free from fear and death. But now....”

Her voice stopped again and part of Harry wanted her to continue, no matter how painful it was for him to listen, and when she didn’t, another part was glad because he couldn’t bear the weight of the sorrow that engulfed him.

She lay down on his bed, her head against his side and her arm around his waist. Harry didn’t move until sleep claimed her. Only then did he lift his head and look at Hermione’s messy brown hair. His fingers touched her head and rested there.

Resolution materialized in the cloud of misery that engulfed him and Harry gently moved out from under her. He put on his ripped and dirty trainers, and turned to look at the sleeping girl.

“I can’t do it, Hermione,” he whispered. “And if this breaks me, it will break you, too. Please forgive me.” Dipping his head down to her brow, Harry kissed her there and did what she said could never be done – he Apparated away from Hogwarts.

*****

A/N: This story is a collaborative effort between Kokopelli and Mr.Intel. Updates will be few and far between, but will be of highest quality. Thank you for reading. If you review, we will answer.