The morning after they invited the ghost to join them was one of the most fun-filled days they had had in a long time. The play between the three continued with Harry and Arthur, lasting through the day. Young Arthur Weasley enjoyed the playtime and the chance to have an adult male role model. He had known Harry for only a few short days, but the bond that grew would prove to be lasting on the impressionable boy's life.
They both had had many common events in their respective lives, both never knew his father, both suffered a harsh life from a young age. Both lived their impressionable years in the shadow of a tyrant. Both gained a father figure only to lose him. Harry knew, deep down, they would have to leave one day, and as his surrogate father had, he knew he had to pass through the veil again.
But for now, here was a boy and the man he respected, simply playing together.
Hermione watched as she had the day before, from the comfort of the Burrow's front porch. She watched and dreamed of the day they would welcome a child into their life. She hadn't forgotten his promise to adopt, and she hoped that would put an end to her internal turmoil. But, she had a question that boiled in her mind, and wanted to ask her spirit.
She watched the two boys at play, separated by twenty years and several worlds. She could see Draco in the boy, the same pride, and the same confidence. And she could see the Weasley in him too; the compassion and open affection he displayed reminded her of Ron.
"Arthur! Harry!" Ginny's call to them startled her from her thoughts. "Supper's ready, time to come in."
'She sounds so much like Molly' Hermione thought. "Do you need any help, Ginny?" she called back from the porch.
"No, dinner's ready. Just come in when they do and mind they wipe their shoes."
Hermione nodded and felt a cold touch.
"She's so self-sufficient, just like Molly," the ghost said.
"I wish we could do something, she seems so lonely."
"You both have helped her cope better then you'll know. She's still my best friend, but I so miss the others," the ghost said with a sigh.
"Hermione, I need to ask …"
"So, love, dinner's ready?" Harry interrupted.
She rolled her eyes at the interruption, "Yes, dear, go wash, you too, Arthur, I'll be there in a moment."
Harry gave her a peck on the cheek and a wink to the spirit hovering next to her and left, dragging his playmate by the hand. The laughing continued to the washroom, leaving Hermione alone with her spirit.
"Hermione? Are you joining us?" they heard Molly's daughter yell out.
"Can we talk later? I'd like to know a few things."
The ghost nodded and followed her mortal self into the kitchen. Ginny had dinner on the table, waiting for them. A meagre meal, but it was enough for the now growing family. They chatted about the boys' playtime, and even the ghost sat with them at the table, joining the conversations.
Soon after they had the table cleared, and Ginny had taken young Arthur to bed, Hermione sat in Harry's arms, sitting on a rattan loveseat on the porch, content. The distant colours painted in the evening sky blurred from brilliant hues of orange and reds to the calming shades of nightfall. The couple sat in silence watching the Earth's shift to nighttime.
"Darling, you looked so happy today. You really have taken to Arthur, haven't you?" she said, splitting the silence of the peaceful view.
"He's a great sort, fearless like his mum, but cunning like Draco. The little bugger almost beat me in a race on brooms, and at seven. He's going to have a brilliant Quidditch career." She didn't have to see his face to understand his meaning, the tone of pride in his voice gave him away to his feelings for the boy.
"We could stay here and help Ginny raise him. She's quite alone, since Draco died."
He sighed heavily. "Yes, I can see it too."
They sat in silence, until she stood, and reached for his hand. "Let's go to bed, I'm a bit worn out."
She pulled him up, and in one swift motion he moved one arm under her legs, just behind her knees and his other caught her back. He applied just enough pressure behind her knees to send her off balance and as his stood; she was cradled in his arms.
"Harry!" she exclaimed from the sudden move.
"You said you were worn out. Just thought you'd need a lift," he said with a grin, one that had a certain meaning. Her coo of a response held promise that she wasn't as worn out as she claimed.
Once in their room, she slipped into the toilet where she spent a few extra minutes getting just right for him. She slipped into a simple but appealing night gown and applied just the correct amount of perfume to entice, and in a moment returned to see him fast asleep. She smiled at him, he had played quite hard all day in the sun, and last night wasn't very restful. He had at least managed to pull off his shoes, and unbuckle his belt, before his head hit the pillow.
She slipped back into the small toilet and changed into more comfortable pyjamas. She then finished undoing his trousers and slipped them off, rolled him over to free him from his shirt and to pull the quilt from under him, and tucked him in. He opened his eyes briefly; she cooed to him and stoked his hair. She placed a kiss on his forehead and then slipped into bed next to him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. He was back into a sound sleep in minutes; she followed soon after.
Her sleep that night was restless; images invaded her dreams, images once seen first by an old friend and once in her own mind. But these were mixed with fresh images.
A little girl sat on the swing alone, her look of sadness bore heavily on Hermione as she watched from a distance. A woman walked to the child, who threw her arms around the woman's neck.
"Mummy, the others won't play with me," she sobbed lightly.
Hermione glanced to the far end of the park-like setting, and watched two children, slightly older then the girl, as they played with two adults older than herself. The woman had greying red hair and the man had extremely messy, black hair with distinguished grey streaks along the sides, both had a familiar feel. Hermione heard the girl call the woman ' Nana'as they continued their play. Nearby them she saw two other adults sitting on a park bench, watching the four at play, these two were instantly recognized.
The young girl and her mother remained distant, far from the others, "Mummy, they said I'm too young to play with them. Why do they hate me?"
"It's alright, Anna, they don't hate you. They love you, but you'll have a long time to wait before you can be with them."
"It's not fair, why do they get to live with Gran-ma and Gran-pa?"
"That's just the way life worked. You have me and your daddy."
The girl stopped crying and looked about, "Where's Daddy?" she asked puzzled.
Hermione smiled and a hand instinctively reached for Harry at her side.
"He's still sleeping; we don't want to wake him. Come, it's time to leave."
She felt a hand gently shake her, and as her moist eyes opened, she realised she was staring into his eyes. "Love, you were having a bad dream. Are you alright?"
"I … I don't remember it. It faded when you woke me. All I remember is it was not a bad dream, but it was a sad one." She nuzzled into his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, while his free hand stroked her hair.
"Shhh, go back to sleep," he whispered.
The days had turned to weeks; the calendar showed three weeks had passed since his birthday. And although they didn't have a party, the celebration was in private.
Three weeks ago Hermione had a dream that still disturbed her, but the details had eluded her conscious thoughts. Every night since, she thought of that night and that dream. She lay awake most nights, while Harry slept peacefully, but tonight something tickling at the back of her mind.
This night, she stayed there for nearly an hour, before abandoning the concept of sleep. A worn, but comfortable, dressing gown lay on the end of the bed, beckoning to her, she slipped out of bed, and pulled it around her shoulders. She kissed him again, and left for the kitchen and a cup of something warming.
They were on the third floor, by themselves for privacy. Ginny's and Arthur's rooms were on the second floor, at the far end of the hall from the stairs. She walked from her room to the stairs and looked up to the fourth floor landing, to the third step from the top and smiled. The house was so familiar she began feeling homesick. She walked quietly down the stairs past the second floor landing, the sounds from the hall from the two adjacent rooms told her one or the other must have trouble sleeping, she thought she heard pacing.
She found her ghost sitting at the kitchen table, a large book laid open in front of her. She was able to turn the pages by blowing across the book.
"Can't sleep?" she asked her mortal self.
"No, there's something I have to know." She walked to the counter and pulled out a teacup and placed it on the counter. She took a step to the fridge, removed the milk, and poured some into a small pot.
"A few weeks ago you said something I never mentioned. You must know what happened." She did not turn to look at the ghost as she spoke; she stood there to make her hot cocoa.
"Yes," she whispered. "I know all about it." She floated to her mortal self, as she began to pour her cocoa into the cup.
When she turned, a single tear broke from an eye and raced down her cheek.
"We are of the same heart, you and I, we have the same soul. One of us has a burden to carry on that soul and it isn't deserved," the ghost began.
"That night, you and Harry did something unselfish and caring." She had a smile that radiated the same love the mortal Hermione held for Harry. She moved her hand to wipe the tear from her cheek but was unable to touch her.
"And you know every thing else I've done?" she whispered almost silently.
The ghost nodded, "Yes, I know about Malfoy. He deserved it. He's the same pig here too. He's the one that took Draco's life."
Hermione looked up and closed her eyes, simply nodded her comprehension.
"And that curse," she started again.
From the second floor a muffled, but distinct, high, shrill scream tore into the night. The ghost vanished instantly leaving Hermione to run up the stairs alone. The cup of cocoa fell to the floor, and shattered, as lives were about to shatter in that quiet house.
She was first there, to watch Lucius clamp his hand over young Arthur's mouth; blood smeared the boy's face. He smiled at the ghost, briefly, "He's my grandson, you worthless mudblood, and it's time to begin his apprenticeship. Tell that wench of his mother it's time he had a man teach him his proper place in this world." He sneered one last time at the ghost, but before he could disappear the door burst open, the same image stood in the doorway, startling Malfoy. The ghost and mortal stood side-by-side staring at the wizard.
He smiled when he noticed she did not have a wand. "Fools," he said as he raised his wand at Hermione. "Avada…"
"Expelliarmus," she screamed, having raised a wandless hand to him. His wand flew from his hand, to slide under a chair in the corner.
"Miserable bitch, hiding a wand?" he asked as he stepped forward, raised an empty arm, striking her across the face with a closed fist.
A fine crimson spray flew from her mouth, from the gash in her lip. The blow was enough to force her from her feet, and in a dizzy state, watched as he picked up his wand to point at her one more time. Voices and footsteps from the hall forced his departure, taking with him the boy. Hermione remained on the floor in an empty room, the ghost, too, was gone.
"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed as she rounded the corner to her son's room. The scattered bedclothes and blankets and injured woman told her what she needed to know. She slumped to her knees, and held her face in her hands.
Hermione wiped her lip with the back of her hand and pulled herself to her friend into a comforting embrace. "We'll find him. Don't worry, Gin. I'm sure Harry and I can get him back."
"Thank you for defending him," she whimpered.
Hermione smiled, "Arthur's part of our family, we'd do anything for him and you."
Ginny buried her face into Hermione's shoulder, and let herself go. "He's … all … I have." she stammered.
Hermione continued to stoke her friend's hair, the warmth of her body pressing into her own stirred new sensations and feelings. She never held Ginny after the accident; she never shared her own grief with her friend. One more unfinished task of her life.
"Where's Harry?" Ginny finally managed to say, they had been there long enough for him to have arrived.
Hermione stood, held Ginny's hands and pulled her to her feet. Together they ran from the bedroom, up the stairs to where Harry was still in bed, Hermione switched on the lights, and expected him to wake. She crossed the room, to find the sheets soaked in sweat, his body rigid.
She had slipped out of the bed they shared and into a worn dressing robe. She leaned in and kissed him on his forehead, and stoked his hair before she left him alone when she quietly walked through the door.
He smiled as the impression of her lips remained, and as that lingering impression faded, so did his dreams of more pleasant times. The familiar beach they always escaped to faded to a dirt trail. He followed the trail as it wound through the woods to find himself outside the Burrow. A green hue radiated from a second floor window. He felt himself glide up and through the walls.
A tall man in a dark cloak stood over the bed in the room where a young boy slept. The man bent over the child and clamped his hand firmly over the boy's mouth. He lifted the child with relative ease and in the struggle the lad gave, the man's hood fell. His long white-blonde hair was unmistakable.
'Leave him alone, Malfoy,' Harry screamed as he began to take an offensive posture and rushed headlong into Malfoy, but passed through him.
The boy managed to wriggle loose and used his best offensive means, he bit down on the hand that clamped over his mouth, leaving a half moon of puncture wounds. Once free of the gag, he let loose a house-shaking scream, hoping to draw his mum in to save him.
The first on the spot was a translucent image. Harry watched as the spirit from that world's Hermione glanced at him, smiled and hovered in witness to the attack. Harry heard a muffled comment to the ghost on her uselessness here as in life.
Harry continued to watch, unable to stop the attack. He watched Malfoy grin at the ghost, raise his wand to vanish when the door flew open, revealing a very much alive version of the ghost. Malfoy stood startled momentarily, then leveled his wand at Hermione and began the curse.
'NOO!' Harry screamed, expecting her to fall dead. Instead the wand flew from Malfoy's hand. Harry watched as in the next seconds, a hand came round, striking Hermione across the face with sufficient force to cause a trail of her blood to trickle down her chin.
Harry blinked as she collapsed to the floor, and in that instant when his eyes re-opened; he was hovering in a dark, stone chamber. Lucius Malfoy held the young boy by a fist of his crimson hair. Red imprints on the boy's face showed the suffering he was receiving. Harry watched, unable to help. He noticed another figure seated nearby, also in the same dark garments. Red slits from under the hood gave Harry the clue he needed without seeing the face.
He watched as the dream continued to unfold. He felt another presence in the chamber, and he looked up to the far corner of the chamber to see her hovering, trying to remain hidden.
He blinked again, and found himself in a different room, stark white with bright lights glaring down, blinding him. All he could see beyond the starbursts in his eyes were blurred figures surrounding a table. Another figure on that table moved and screamed in pain, he couldn't see the table clearly; just an imagined image of chestnut hair matted in sweat, the scream of pain was from a woman. There seemed to be struggling between the woman on the table and the other figures. She was being held tightly in place, and she screamed again. The pain in her voice and the frequency of the screams increased sharply. In between the screams of pain, he heard the woman curse his name.
He tried to focus on the floor and the screaming stopped; it was now a dirt covered path, with a patch of dried blood. The wind blew, and the stained soil disappeared into the sky.
He blinked again, the fuzzy vision lifted. She was looking down at him. Fresh blood trails remained on her chin as she called his name over and over.
"Harry…" she called out again. "Harry, please wake up."
"Mione," he moaned her name. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he mumbled, still groggy from his dream.
"Malfoy hit me, he took Arthur."
He reached through his fogged vision and pulled her to him. She laced her arms under him, and held him. She felt his chest rise and catch sharply, his grip tightened. "I'm sorry, I never want to hurt you," he managed to whisper between his barely controlled whimpers of grief.
She held him and kissed his cheek, forgetting her lip. She pulled back to reach over to his bedside table for his glasses, and slipped them on his face. He was now able to focus and see her lip. He reached to her chin and wiped the fresh streak with his thumb.
"Malfoy was here," she repeated. "He took Arthur and I got this for trying to stop him." She wiped her lip with the back of her hand again, the bleeding had stopped and now it was just sore, as was her cheek.
"He took him somewhere, a stone lined room," Harry managed to say.
"He's in the Ministry. There was another with him and I'm afraid Malfoy is going to hurt him," they all heard from a familiar voice hovering nearby.
Ginny looked to the ghost, and mouthed a thank-you.
"Yes, that's it; I think he took him to the courtrooms," Harry added, "but why there?" He had managed to sit up, moving Hermione off.
"Malfoy said he'll have the boy agree or die, something about following his family's destiny," the ghost said. "I couldn't hear it all; I had to stay far enough back so he couldn't see me."
"Hermione," Ginny finally found her voice, "Thank you, I know what it meant for you to leave." The mortal Hermione stood, and looked at Ginny puzzled, "She hasn't left the building in the ten years she's been here."
She nodded to Ginny at the explanation, Harry had also stood, his knees seemed to wobble, but he caught himself. Ginny turned and blushed at the sight of a man standing there in his boxers. Harry reached a hand to the bedpost and steadied himself. He took a deep breath, and redressed quickly from the folded pile of clothes Hermione left after she undressed him.
"We have to go tonight," he said, as he began stuffing their few belongings into the rucksack. Hermione nodded and dressed quickly, Ginny stood in the room and watched, she marvelled at the speed of their decision and the speed at their resolve to rescue a small boy.
Ginny left for her room to dress, when Hermione caught her by the arm, "Stay, you need to be here, we'll get him."
"No, he's my son, I'm coming with you," she turned and left.
Hermione took his hand, "Harry, what was the dream this time? Was it …"
He pulled her hand to his lips, and kissed the back, "Mostly I watched Malfoy, your ghost seemed to know I was there."
"So you watched what happened?"
"Yes, you were brilliant standing up to him, again." He turned, still keeping her hand in his, grabbed the pack, led her to the landing, and down the stairs.
"But it wasn't enough; he seemed so much stronger here, physically, than before."
"You do have to work on ducking," he said with a worried smile.
"Harry," she still held his hand, and pulled him to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. "You said you didn't mean to hurt me, what happened?" she needed to know, his visions never lied.
"I only caught a glimpse of you, it sounded bad. You screamed my name and swore at me. That's all I saw."
She looked down to the floor, then to their still joined hands. Then up to his face, and his eyes. "I know you'd never hurt me intentionally, unless you felt it necessary; even verbally." She paused, not meaning to say it. It happened almost twelve years ago and it still lingered. "No matter what you did or will do, it will never affect how I feel about you."
Ginny dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt; she pulled her hair back and tied it into a ponytail. She met the small assault team in the hall near the front door, where she put on a dark-blue cloak, and slipped her wand into a side pocket.
It had been several years since Ginny had been to the Ministry, it was still considered by many to be a grave for the fallen during the war. She remembered visiting her father there before he died at the battle of Hogwarts, she shuddered at the thought of the scene inside as they all Apparated to the front of the building.
Harry noticed Ginny's apprehension, he and Hermione knew what lay inside, the grizzly images Ginny still held from the tales of bodies stacked in the halls like so much firewood. "Ginny, there i s little left inside, just small piles of clothes and bones where they fought and died. You don't have to come in, we can deal with Malfoy."
"No, he's my son and I'm going to be there for him."
He nodded at her reasons and they made their way into the building through the rubble and debris that blocked the entry. The main Atrium was exactly as they left it a few days earlier, the newspaper at the security desk remained as they left it. Ginny's eyes widened at the destruction of the once elegant Atrium. The fountain, long dry, had a pile of rubble in it where the statue once stood.
"They are either in the courtroom or the Death Chamber, those are the only two with stone walls and floors," Harry said as the walked through the Atrium.
"Death Chamber? You don't think he'd subject his own grandson to that?" Ginny asked. The nervousness in her voice re-emphasised her building desperation.
"We'll get Arthur; Malfoy's not expecting us to find him this quickly. If we only knew which to try first," Hermione said to reassure Ginny.
"They're in the Death Chamber," a shaky voice replied. The ghost had gone ahead and found them.
The group turned to the staircase and began the descent to the ninth level. The ghost hovered behind her mortal form, who in turn remained at his side where she knew she belonged.
"Hermione, wait," the ghost whispered.
She stopped and motioned to Harry to keep going. "What? Is there something else?"
The ghost looked longingly at her physical self, "just keep yourself safe, you have so much to live for now. Please, that's all I wanted to say."
Puzzled she looked at her ghost and quickly caught up to Harry.
"What was that about?"
"I'm not certain, she's concerned about me."
"It's only natural, she is you." he said as they finally reached the doors to the ninth level. Ginny was directly behind them when they paused at the doors. "Nothing fancy, stun the bastard, grab Arthur and we leave as quickly as possible."
"Agreed." Ginny and Hermione said together.
He pushed the door open a crack and peered through the gap, looking for sentries. The immediate hall was clear and empty. He waved them all through the door, and they stealthily approached the corner to the hall leading to the Death Chamber. He peered around the corner, and found two wizards outside the door. He slipped back, held a finger to his lips, and held out two fingers on his other hand. Hermione nodded her understanding, Ginny watched them at work, a well rehearsed team.
Harry stood upright, while Hermione pulled out her wand and couched low, Harry pointed to her and to his left arm, she nodded again, and they waited. He held three fingers out, then two, then one, and then they jumped around the corner, each sending stunning spells to the two guards. The two slumped to the floor, with a minimum of noise.
"Hopefully they didn't hear that," Harry whispered. "The Chamber is a natural sound deadened room, so we may still have the element of surprise."
"Harry, there are two others in the room, besides Malfoy and Arthur. One is sitting as a spectator, and one just inside the doors," the ghost reported. She had been slipping in and out, watching them.
"Thanks, Hermione, now, Ginny, can you get the guard? Hermione you take Malfoy, I'll deal with Riddle. It sounds as if he's in a weakened state."
The two witches nodded and they all slipped quietly to the doors to the Death Chamber. He again started his count down from three, and as he reached zero, they burst into the room. The guard at the door fell without blinking to Ginny's first blast. Malfoy ducked Hermione's stunner, the red beam exploded at his feet. Harry sent a blue bolt at the sitting figure, hitting Riddle in the chest.
Hermione turned and ducked as a green beam hit the pillar next to her.
"Expelliarmus!"
Blue flashes.
"Stupefy!"
Red flashes.
"Diffindo!"
Yellow flashes.
And green flashed in the Chamber. The three attackers fought in unison, Ginny joined Hermione to save her son.
Harry's blast caught the Dark Lord unprepared, and he reeled backwards off the bench.
A green beam shot past Harry, he rolled to the side as the stone bench caught the blast.
Harry's spell had caught Voldemort completely by surprise. It allowed Harry the time to close the distance between them. He stood staring at the hooded figure, the face under the hood still hidden from view. Two red slits were visible in the shadows of the hood. He held his wand in his hand, pointed to Harry's throat. Harry held up his hand, open palm facing his foe.
The empty hand startled Voldemort long enough to halt his planned strike. He stood to face this newcomer, and watched the action in the background from the corner of his eye.
"You have no idea who I am, do you?" Voldemort asked the assailant.
"I know who you are, Tom. Although I'm not surprised you don't know me." His arm remained raised ready to block any spell from the Dark Lord.
"Then if you know who I am, why are you not afraid? And why… I see you are quite skilled at blocking your thoughts. I applaud your skill, wizard." He remained facing Harry, his wand ready. The duel behind Harry continued with Hermione and Malfoy, Ginny watched from behind a pillar, trying to deflect the spells aimed at Malfoy away from her son, hoping Malfoy would release him soon.
Hermione took a few quick strides deeper into the Chamber and from her new vantage point, fired another stunner. It exploded behind where Malfoy stood only a second earlier. He held the boy tight in his grasp; one hand gripped his arm near the shoulder. Malfoy's quick dodge of the spell had pulled hard on the boy's arm. The loud pop told them he pulled it sharply from its socket. Arthur yelled in the immediate pain of his now dislocated shoulder.
"Mummy, it hurts," he sobbed.
Malfoy fired a spell at one of his attackers; it neatly sliced into the stone benches she had used for cover. His blast found the mark, but not the target, as Hermione rolled to the side, and shot another volley of quick spells. The flashes in the Chamber gave their movements an eerie slow-motion effect, making precise aim difficult.
Harry smiled at his opponent, "So, you have no idea who I am. Good."
"No, but I can tell that bitch with you is quite talented, to hold off Malfoy as long as she has is admirable. Pity she will die with you."
"Love, how are you holding out?" he called behind him.
"Splendid, just bloody splendid. This coward is using Arthur as a shield," she called back. "I can't get a clear shot."
"Ah, so she's your woman? That should make this more interesting, as you watch her die. I do enjoy a good floorshow." Voldemort moved his wand slightly away from Harry and pointed to Hermione, Harry did not pose a threat, without a wand.
Ginny watched Arthur grab at his malformed shoulder. Her instinct took over, a yellow flash from her wand hit Malfoy in the leg. He stumbled at the pain, blood leaked from the fresh hole above his knee.
"It's all right, Arthur!" Ginny shouted.
Malfoy's hand reached around young Arthur's neck.
"Don't you dare, son-of-a-..." muttered Hermione. She could see Malfoy trying to strangle the child.
"Diffindo!" cried Ginny.
At the same moment, Hermione shouted, "Stupefy!"
Before Voldemort's spell left his wand, red bolts tore from Harry's open hand, striking the Dark Lord square in the chest, almost exactly as he had done in the past duel. He was flung across the Chamber as the same smell of singed flesh filled the room. This time there were sufficient obstacles for him to tumble into. By the time he managed to regain his composure, Harry had reached him, his foot stood on the Dark Lord's wand.
"You've never beaten me before, and this time will be no different," Harry said. He kicked the wand aside, leaving him defenceless.
Ginny's spell hit Malfoy straight in his arm.
Hermione's spell hit the wall next to him with an orange flash. The stones exploded sending sharp fragments into his face.
Malfoy grabbed at his face, the stone shrapnel had cut deep. He pulled hard on the boy to shield himself again. The ease with which his arm moved sent a shock of surprise through him, as he looked at the bloody stump of his arm.
A final "Expelliarmus" from Hermione tore his wand from his remaining hand.
Harry was ready to deliver his final blow; Voldemort looked up from the floor at Harry, the battle lost. His best had been bested by a woman and his best now lay on the floor in a bloody heap. "So now you kill me? Is that the plan? I am, as you can see, defenceless." His hand raised to his hood, and he slipped it off to reveal himself.
Harry stared at the sight. The face of the man who caused the pain and suffering in this world remained hidden behind a black mask. The sounds in the room settled to a young boy crying with his mother calming him, a man moaning in pain and a strange metallic rush of air.
Hermione still held her wand at the fallen wizard, blood pumped from the stump of his arm, and oozed from the gashes in his face, one eye had been sliced from its socket and hung down his cheek. Her training and the primal need to heal took over as she now gave life saving aid to her greatest foe. She used her talents to close the wounds not common to this world, as she ripped a strip of his cloak and tied it into a tourniquet, stopping the blood loss.
She tore another bit of cloth, held it in her hand, transforming it into bandages for his face.
His scream of pain as she applied the dressing brought a smile of satisfaction to her face. She finished her first aid to him, and refused to use her magic to heal him. She then turned her attention elsewhere.
"I know you, Riddle, I know what you're capable of doing, and I plan to make sure there's a trial for your evil deeds. I'm not going to kill you, even though you deserve it."
Ginny held her son as Hermione came to his aid, her hands began to glow the familiar golden hue, and she held one hand to either side of his shoulder. The deformed socket slipped painlessly into place, and she held him a moment longer to stop any lingering pain.
Voldemort tried to stand, his cloak now fell open and his chest was exposed, a plate hung around his waist, shattered, Muggle-style circuit boards hung from it. A small cylinder under his hair had a tube attached that fed into his mask.
Harry blinked, "Life support?" he asked without thinking. The most evil wizard on the planet needed assistance to simply breathe.
Voldemort's struggle to now stand and his apparent weakened state gave the victor pause, long enough for the unthinkable.
He sprang from the floor, his hands closed around Harry's throat through his cloak. Harry began to gag, and without thinking reached out and grabbed Voldemort's face.
Hermione watched the renewed attack from the far side of the room, unable to assist. She quickly stood and rushed to Harry's aid, hoping she could help in time.
Harry felt the fingers tighten into his throat; he felt a sharp pain as Voldemort's strength began to crush his windpipe. No sound escaped his mouth as he grabbed his attacker, ripping the mask from his face, as his hands grabbed the man's flesh, the grip loosened around his throat.
"Arrhh … What is your magic?" he screamed in pain. His cheeks burned red with Harry's hand print, his scalp began to smoulder. Voldemort released Harry's throat and grabbed Harry's hands to pull them from his face. As soon as his hands touched Harry's flesh, his fingers melted to dust, and the disintegration began eating into his arms. His face continued to melt into dust, the flesh on his head now nearly gone. His skull began to dissolve and the spell of Harry's touch continued into the remaining flesh.
The figure before Harry was now little more then dust held together by the clothes he wore. Gravity now took hold as the remains fell to the earth.
Harry fell to his knees, and began to choke, his breathing was now difficult, the sudden damage now obvious. He felt another pair of hands on his neck, and his throat began to burn slightly before he could draw a clean breath. He coughed heavily, now being able to force air through.
"Harry? How did you do that?" she finally managed to ask.
He looked at the pile of dust, and then to his hands. "My mum. When she gave her life to save me. The same thing happened to Quirrel in our first year," he managed to say with a hoarse voice.
The dawn of recognition streaked through her mind, he never really explained what happened when he recovered the Philosopher'sStone. "That's how you defeated him before?" she now asked.
He simply nodded, his voice still hurt slightly.
Hermione smiled at him, and hugged him tightly, forgetting his still sore throat,
"Ow, love, my throat," he managed after a moment. She grinned her reply and replaced her healing hands to his neck.
Ginny and young Arthur had watched as well, and now stood behind them. The both stood in awe at the simple defeat of the Darkest wizard of their lifetime. Harry and Hermione finally stood, the Chamber no longer had flashing lights from spells, or sounds of combat. The four stood in a Weasley-style victory embrace.
Hermione's talents as a Healer helped three people that morning. Two friends now had their minor injuries healed, and one foe still would require medical aid. Her actions for Malfoy's care left him laying on the ground as the four reunited.
"Harry, is it over? Voldemort's gone?" Ginny asked. Her question meant the world also could begin to climb out from the dark shadow of fear.
"Yes. I think so. But to be sure." He pushed them back a few steps and struck his hands together, he concentrated on the pile of dust. A slight breeze had stirred the remains. He cast his spell; a field of pure energy captured the pile of dust that remained. He closed his eyes and pulled his hands together, collapsing the sphere as they came closer together. The final flash of energy signaled the ultimate destruction of the remains.
"It's over," he said, he was noticeably weakened from the spell; his wife stood with him and let him lean on her. "Malfoy," he finally said, "we need to make sure he's held accountable for his actions."
They left the spot as a group to where the other wizard had fallen. The bloodstain and arm remained, but a trail of blood left a path to the door, the guard they left stunned was also gone.
"He's escaped!" Ginny shouted. She pushed Arthur to Hermione's side and ran up the steps. The trail of blood stopped in the hall. She looked down the hall, the lack of visible disturbances in the settled dust on the floor told the tale; they had managed a clean escape. She balled a fist and stamped her foot in anger, then returned to the others.
"He's escaped. He shouldn't be hard to find. Harry you must help find him," Ginny pleaded.
Harry looked at Hermione, they were still in the Death Chamber and had begun the turn of fortunes for this world. He shook his head, "No, Ginny, we don't belong in this world. It's up to you and young Arthur to carry on the fight." He knelt to the boy, "Take good care of your mum, she's a special lady. You will be the hope of your world. You are the future."
The boy threw his arms around the wizard's neck and squeezed as hard as he could. "I love you, please stay?" he said, tears streamed down his cheeks.
"We can't. You will be strong, for your mum?" He pulled the boy away and stood. "Arthur Weasley, I love you too. And one day you will be a great wizard like your father was." He ruffled the boy's hair, and took Hermione's hand.
They turned together, leaving the boy in his mother's arms. The walked to the gate before them and each took a deep breath. "Harry, wait." Hermione left his side, and walked to the debris. She picked up the discarded rucksack and brushed it off. She also spied a length of cord and picked it up as well.
She walked back, "We almost forgot this. And last time we had trouble keeping hold of each other." She tied the cord around her waist and the other end around his. "Now even if we let go, we should arrive wherever we end up, together."
They glanced over their shoulders one last time to the Weasleys and stepped into the archway together, the thin cloth of the veil flapped in the breeze they caused and slowly stopped to hang dead still.