Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: I've been dying to get this chapter to you guys! So much has happened since I left.... Thank you all for reviewing! They were a very pleasant surprise to come home to, and each and every single one of them made me smile. This chapter is dedicated to all of you who, despite any and everything in HBP, still have faith for R/L and H/Hr. Glory to thy ship, and on with the chapter!
Chapter Twenty
The Beginning of the End
Ron's internal alarm clock told him it was time to get up. His eyes landed on the window as soon as he opened them. Judging by how the sky was slowly losing its darkness, he assumed it was about four in the morning. With an unhappy sigh, he let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He had been having the most wonderful dream; why did he have to wake up so soon? He lay there and listened to the early morning noises before he realized his arms were wrapped around something. Blinking, he looked down at the blonde nestled comfortably next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, a contended smile on her sleeping face. The sheet they were wrapped up in covered everything but her shoulders, which happened to be bare. Ron blinked again, thoroughly confused. Had his dream about spending the night making love to Luna actually been real?
Slowly, he began to remember the events that had led up to the previous night. Yes...yes, all of it had really happened. He had actually admitted that he loved her, and to his utter astonishment, she loved him back. Relieved that he hadn't been only dreaming, Ron looked back out the window. As much as he wanted to stay there all day with her, they had to get up and going. Time didn't wait for love, and now was no exception. Happier than he had been in years, Ron leaned over and kissed Luna lightly on her lips until she woke up.
"Mmm," She protested, eyes still closed. She smiled and kissed Ron back. Now that she was awake, Ron shifted himself so that he could reach her easier and began to kiss her neck. Luna giggled. "Stop it, Ron," She said with a yawn, but Ron didn't listen. He moved again so that he was straddling her and pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck. She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. Her arms went around his neck as he came up and kissed her fully on her mouth again, prying her lips apart with his tongue. Luna kissed him back, and as she did she made a little sound that almost made Ron forget their mission and how they had to leave soon. Begrudgingly, Ron pulled away.
"Good morning, beautiful," He whispered, then kissed her briefly on her nose. "I hate to say it, but we have to get going. The sooner we get Hermione and Draco, the better."
"Mmm," Luna said again, in agreement this time. She finally opened her eyes and smiled at Ron. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't seem to find any words. Instead, he smiled back, gave her a quick peck, and then rolled off of her. He watched, transfixed, as Luna stretched and sat up. She turned away from Ron so all he could see was her back, and it was a beautiful back indeed. Sighing, he tore his eyes away from Luna and looked around for his trousers. He found them a few feet away from the bed and slipped into them. His shirt, however, was on the other side of the room, which meant he had to cross over to Luna's side. Hiding a smile, he went to find it. When he did, he picked it up and stood up in time to catch Luna adjusting her brassiere, then pulling her shirt on over it. She dressed in front of him with the same confidence and familiarity about her that she had had when she had been undressed in front of him. Her assured demeanor captivated him and without even noticing, he paused with his shirt in his hands, his eyes following every movement she made. His heart picked up when she turned away from him and bound her hair into an elastic. The golden cascade gathered like water in her hands and Ron suddenly remembered how silky it had been when he had ran his own fingers through it. Blinking, he returned from his reverie and went back to dressing. Thoughts like that would certainly lead to other things, and there was more to think about at the moment than their personal wants.
Luna knew Ron was watching her as she dressed for the road. Her heart did somersaults when she thought about how enamored with her he was. But she understood that duty came first and dismissed the churning sensations in her stomach. Try as she might, however, she couldn't cast scenes from the previous night out of her mind.
It felt so strange to be loved again, to be able to return the affection with her entire being. After her mother's death, she had been nothing to her father but a constant reminder of a marriage lost prematurely, and though she had loved him despite his conditions, she had still taken his life. When she had been captured by Lucius and sent to Damien, he had tried to seduce her on many occasions, but she had made sure not to fall prey to it. She was nothing but a pawn to him, and he wanted nothing more than to use her gifts to alter the War. Yes, she had had friends like Ginny, Neville and Harry during her school years, but even they had thought her odd. For more than a decade she had suffered from loneliness, had been parched of affection and denied attachment, and now, in a whirlwind of incidents, she had found a true friend, a companion, and a lover in none other than Ronald Weasley. She blushed at that and tried to hide her girlish grin as she donned her cloak. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the one for her, but Luna liked tradition and wanted to wait and see if Ron felt the same way before mentioning anything to him. But there were more important tasks to attend to first.
They stopped by the gate to pick up their supplies as the dusky sky began to lighten, promising a breathtaking sunrise in an hour. It was obvious by now that they weren't going to stop in Bulgaria; they couldn't spare the delay, and they had enough supplies as it was to make it to the fortress. Ron decided that horses would make a good means of transportation and tracked down and purchased one for each of them in a matter of twenty minutes; a strawberry mare with a white mane and tail for Luna, and a spirited chestnut gelding for Ron.
They left the small town and headed back to the forested mountain. From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Luna tense as they took a horse trail and entered the woods. He understood her anxiety; Isabella's body was somewhere in here, a reminder that their lives, as well as the sake of the mission, had almost been lost to the hands of jealousy and lust. He leaned across the gap between them and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Luna smiled without looking at him and relaxed herself.
A comfortable, contented silence fell between them until noon, when a violent, passing thunderstorm forced them to reside temporarily in a cave. Ron started a fire while Luna tied up and soothed their steeds. When she had succeeded to quiet them, she went to the fire, crouching down and warming her hands before it. Ron watched her silently from across the flames, noting the serious look in her protuberant eyes.
"Do you think they're okay?" She asked quietly without looking up. "Do you think we've taken too long in reaching them?" She raised her eyes to his now, worry clouding their normally crystal blue. "Ron...what do we do if we're too late? How could we explain that to Harry?"
Ron thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. He had thought the same thing not an hour ago, but he couldn't tell Luna some of the conclusions he had come to. With a reassuring smile, he got to his feet and went over to her. Taking a seat beside Luna and draping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.
"I'm sure they're fine," He said softly and, to his surprise, sincerely. "They're too important for Damien to kill. He needs them to lure Harry. And all our delays couldn't be helped, but that's how field assignments are. Some days you win, some days you don't. It's that simple."
Luna nodded slowly against his shoulder, then looked up at him, the concern still in her eyes. "Do you think we'll be able to rescue them?" She whispered, her voice hinting at desperation and even fear. Ron thought for a moment and then gave her the most honest answer he could.
"That's not my place to decide, Luna," He admitted, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. "What happens at the fortress is up to you."
~*~*~*~*~
'Be prepared. Do not act rashly. Do not believe everything you hear. Your loved ones are safe, and you will be reunited with them shortly. Have faith, Harry Potter. This War is soon to end.'
Harry held the Spell Caster's last letter in his left hand, but his attention was focused on the scroll in his right.
'Harry Potter,
It has come to our attention that one of our captives has been found pregnant. We thought that, as she is your wife, you would wish to be informed of this change of status in your family. Best wishes.'
Enraged, Harry clenched his fist, thus crumpling the letter. He assumed the Spell Caster had known about Hermione's pregnancy and had decided to get to him before Damien. "Do not believe everything you hear." What was that supposed to mean? "Do not act rashly." Now some unknown witch or wizard was trying to tell him how to live his life and protect his family?
He raised his eyes to the window; He couldn't sit here any longer and let all of this pass by. Something was going to go wrong out there, something worse than everything that had already happened...and he certainly couldn't leave Hermione and their unborn child at the hands of Damien and Lord Voldemort.
There was a knock at the door. Harry turned to find Ginny leaning against the door frame, a knowing look in her vibrant eyes.
"Go to her," She said softly. "I can hold down the castle if things go wrong. Bring them home safe, Harry. All of them."
Harry stared at her for a moment. He didn't want to leave Hogwarts, but he knew Ginny and the rest of the Few were more than capable of handling things if everything went awry. Harry nodded, grabbed his sword and wand, spared another meaningful glance at Ginny, and Disapparated. Ginny closed her eyes when he was gone. A single tear fell from her eye.
"Bring him home safe, Harry."
~*~*~*~*~
Hermione could feel that something wasn't right. Gently, she coaxed herself awake and looked around the dark cell. Draco was sleeping in a corner at the other end of the room, his chin rising and falling against his chest, but other than that, they were alone.
'No,' She thought, 'no, there's someone else here with us...'
"Show yourself," She ordered the darkness. There was a burst of white light that temporarily blinded her and jolted Draco out of his sleep. The light ebbed away, dimming and diminishing until it pulsed around the outlines of two remarkably beautiful women. Hermione recognized them as two-thirds of the Sages in a heartbeat.
Curly blonde hair hung down the back of the muted Ellanee. At 6'11", she was clearly the shortest of the sisters. Her all-seeing emerald eyes bore down on Hermione, and she knew that both of these extraordinary women were looking at her through them. Trilithiana contrasted greatly against her sister with her straight black hair and 7 foot frame. Behind the cloud of blindness, Hermione could see that her eyes were once a deep brown, but she made up for what she lacked in sight with speech; her full crimson lips spoke for both she and Ellanee. Like Seraphine, these two were also as pale as ghosts.
"Spell Caster," Trilithiana said, her sister's voice mixing with and echoing beneath hers as they both spoke from her mouth. "The end is drawing near. The wheels are in motion. You and the Stealthy One are to prepare yourselves for the Final Battle."
"Two days from now," Ellanee said through Trilithiana on her own now, "the fate of the world is to be decided. You have succeeded in contaminating the waters of the enemy, but only the Final Battle has the weight to tip the scales."
"Ready yourselves," Trilithiana interrupted. "You will be aided, but you will be outnumbered. Only faith will save you."
"The fate of the world lies in all your hands now," They said in unison. "It is up to you to decide who will and who will not survive."
In another sudden flash of light, they were gone. Hermione could see Draco staring at her from his corner. "What does it mean?" He asked. Hermione sighed. Draco did not know either of the prophecies; the one concerning Harry and Voldemort, or the one that Hermione had recently translated into having to do with Luna.
"It means," She said slowly, not sure how to word it, "that our destinies are in no one's hands but ours anymore."
~*~*~*~*~
"Is this a good idea, cousin?" The silken voice was laced with fear. "Are you certain it will work?" His saffron eyes darted to the lifeless body of the maid on the floor, then to the tall and pale figure standing before him. His cousin and master looked weak and worn, but determined.
"You have aided me so graciously thus far, Damien. Will you not do this last, most important favor for me?" Lord Voldemort's scarlet eyes stared down at him with as close to a pleading look as he could muster. Damien could not deny him, but he could also not overlook his fears.
"Are you sure the other six were destroyed?" He asked in a faltering voice. He winced as Voldemort's eyes flashed in rage, but they had cooled in an instant.
"My Death Eaters would die to have been given such a proposition as you have," He whispered icily. "My only means if survival lies in you, dear cousin. We already share the same blood; my mother was your father's sister. We can only strengthen our bond this way, and in doing so, we shall be together forever; never again will we go without family as long as you do this simple task for me."
"Was it necessary to kill her, though?" Damien demanded, gesturing to the maid. "What did she do to deserve such an untimely death?"
Voldemort shrugged. "Sometimes one must die for the good of thousands. Say you will consent, cousin."
Damien sighed and nodded. Tom looked so weak; if he were to die, Damien would be left utterly alone again. True, he knew Tom was probably incapable of affection and did not love Damien as he claimed, family ties or not; but Damien thought them so alike, and perhaps given time, Tom could learn to see Damien as the brother-like figure Damien had construed him to be since his eleventh birthday.
Voldemort closed his eyes and bowed his head, placing his hands over the spot on his chest where his heart should've been located. He began to chant in a foreign tongue that Damien did not understand. He watched as his cousin spun the spell, his voice growing louder and fiercer as he did. The pressure in the room intensified; Damien wanted to look away from Voldemort, but he could not force his eyes away. He watched, regretting his decision, as his cousin raised his head, his thin mouth still chanting. His voice filled the room, shrilly and echoing against the walls of the room, bouncing against the confines of the walls, looking for somewhere to go, begging to infiltrate the ears of any unlucky recipient they could find.
Voldemort's eyes snapped open and stared into Damien's. Eyes, they say, are windows to the soul, and Damien could do nothing but watch in horror as he looked through his cousin's window into his depths. There was not much left of the blackened material that served Voldemort as a soul, but it managed to tear itself in two, and Damien felt the excruciating pain as the new piece attached itself to his own essence. He heard himself scream as he saw the true evil harbored in his cousin and realized it was now part of him as well. A smug look of contentment passed over Voldemort's face as he watched his naive cousin collapse upon the ground. He turned and swept from the room to make plans for battle, leaving the bodies of his sacrifice and his final Horcrux in his wake.