Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot is mine.
A/N: This is the last chapter of this fic. However, there is an epilogue written, and also a one-shot sequel. Both of which I'll post soon enough. :)
Please keep in mind the warnings from the first chapter, this is a darkfic.
The Darkness Within
Chapter 14: And in the End
It seemed almost unnatural, how quite the corridor was after the pandemonium in the meeting room, and Harry rested his back against the wall, taking a deep breath. His fingers were curling compulsively around the smooth shaft of the wand in his right pocket. A sheen of moisture glistened on his forehead. Slowly, his legs relaxed and he slumped down to sit with his eyes closed, his head resting on his knees.
The silence was broken as the door he had banged shut behind him opened. The tall frame of Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, and angered voices of a heated argument reached Harry's ears.
"Harry," he said. "Please, come back inside. There is a lot to be discussed."
Harry raised his tired eyelids and met the headmaster's unwavering gaze. He almost smiled, even amidst all the chaos, the blue was still twinkling.
As though Dumbledore were able to read his mind once more, he said, "Even in these troubling times we're facing, there is still hope, my boy.
"Come now, we must decide on a course of action." With that, he vanished back into the bright light and noise of the Room of Requirement.
Harry grimaced, and forced himself to relax every muscle in his body; he was about to give the performance of a lifetime. He walked back into the room, and it quieted almost immediately. He felt tens of pairs of eyes on him as he calmly walked to his chair and sat down.
Molly Weasley grabbed the chance, and declared loudly, "My Ron is not involved in this. None of my children would ever betray our side." She held herself up straight, with her husband's arm around her waist and the tall shapes of her children looming over her shoulder. Everything in her posture screamed that if you even dared to say something negative about one of her offspring, there would be hell to pay.
Mad Eye mumbled under his nose, "You heard the man, two heirs. Two. And one of them identified. Who disappeared from the room, huh? Not a traitor my bloody eye. Mongrels like that should be Avada'd on the spot."
Mrs Weasley's ears were turning red, and her eyes shooting off sparks as she opened her mouth.
However, before the shouting match could resume, Dumbledore intervened by stepping calmly to the middle of the room. He smiled at the Weasleys and said, "I am sure there is a logical explanation to everything. Isn't that right, Severus?"
Professor Snape, who had faded into the background like a dark shadow said, "I have not managed to discover the identity of the Dark Lord's heir, but I must confirm the fact that it was indeed Ms Granger who I saw entering his chamber. I am positive that she is one of the heirs. As to the male, there is no confirmed information."
Molly Weasley raised an eyebrow and smiled triumphantly at Mad Eye Moody.
"Although," Snape continued, and the smile left her face, "it stands to reason that seeing as young Ms Granger is a Mu - Muggleborn, the true heir would be someone who cares for her, and is a pureblood himself. It is very unlikely that the Dark Lord would name his heir from impure stock…" he trailed off, and looked around, smirking suggestively.
The Weasley twins were looking ready to hex him to his deathbed, and the older brothers had to grab hold of their wand arms to keep them from doing something they'd regret later. It was obvious though, that one more provocation, and the entire Weasley clan would join forces against the Death Eater spy.
"Enough," Dumbledore said quietly, and the divisions in the room fell back to their seats, looking expectantly at the old wizard.
"We must not jump to conclusions; it is likely that Ms Granger has joined Voldemort for reasons unknown to us. However, as Professor Snape has said, there is no proof of treason with Mr Weasley. Right now we should determine what it is that happened, and decide what to do next." He turned to Harry and said in a much softer tone of voice, "Harry, my boy, do you think you can shed some light on the situation?"
As every person in the room turned to look at him, Harry forced himself to relax, even though the question made panic course through his veins. He swallowed nervously and met the headmaster's eyes. "Um, what do you mean?"
"Have you noticed anything different about your friends recently?"
"Oh," he breathed. "No, there's nothing. Ron and Hermione have been, well, Ron and Hermione." Harry's brow furrowed as he dared a look around the room. "You don't think … You don't think that Snape is actually telling the truth?" He was shaking his head as he spoke.
Dumbledore smiled a little and stepped closer, and sat down next to Harry. "I'm afraid it is a very real possibility we must take into consideration. Because of that, we must have every possible piece of information. Do you understand what I'm asking, Harry?"
The dark-haired young man nodded, and offered, "You're asking whether I think that Ron and Hermione have joined the D - Voldemort?" He glanced around to see if anybody had noticed his almost slip. He was met by steady, inquiring or reassuring looks. Except … Snape was studying him carefully with an unreadable expression on his sallow face.
His eyes flickered back to Dumbledore. "I - I had a fight with Ron in the autumn. We haven't talked much this year because of that. I just really don't know. I'm sorry, I just don't know!" he shouted. "I don't know …" His voice was so quiet now that even in the silent room, it was almost inaudible.
Arthur Weasley was the one to break the silence. "What are we going to do to save my son?"
"Save him?" Moody barked. "He's made his bed with the dogs; I say we leave him to lie in it." He sat back down in his seat with a loud thump.
Molly Weasley broke free of her children's hold, and her wand hovered in front of Mad Eye's nose before anyone else could react to the retired Auror's callous statement. "This is my Ronald we're talking about. He is not a traitor! How dare you!"
Her husband stepped forward and his fingers closed calmingly around her shaking hand. He applied gentle pressure and slowly, she lowered her wand, still glaring fiercely at Moody.
"Arthur is right," came a surprising statement that brought the entire room's attention back to Snape. He stepped forth from the shadows near the walls and continued, "We must a way to retrieve young Mr Weasley."
The matriarch of said family graced him with a disbelieving yet relieved smile.
The Potions Professor didn't seem to notice and continued, "It doesn't matter whether he's innocent of the crime or not. If his, indeed, innocent. It is our duty to return him to safety. If he's not …" he hesitated. "He is a very dangerous individual; I know parts of what the heir has done in the service of the Dark Lord and I can guess the rest. However, if the heir is Weasley, there might be a possibility to extract important information from him. With his family connections, he would be much easier to influence into giving us a weapon against Lord Voldemort.
"If that fails, he is a weapon against the Dark Lord himself we could use." Snape had caught the attention of the gathering with his little speech, and some of the people were already nodding along in agreement.
"What about Hermione?" The quiet question from Harry interrupted him, and Snape swirled to face him.
With a cold smile he hissed, "She is irrelevant."
Dumbledore intervened, "She is a student here, Severus. Whatever we know, or think we know about her, we are responsible for her safety."
"When we go to retrieve Mr Weasley, I don't see why we cannot bring her along. If that is what you wish." Snape quirked an eyebrow and looked at Dumbledore.
"This is all well and good, but how to you propose we go about retrieving the children?" Amelia Bones stepped forth.
"I believe that Severus is suggesting that we implement the plan we have been working on," Dumbledore answered her.
"The Plan?" She was wide-eyed. "We don't have enough people for that yet. Albus, you know that."
Snape cleared his throat. "If I may, Madam Bones, I have the location of the mansion pinpointed sown to the Western coast of Scotland. I think we have enough people to cover the area?"
She looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know that." Glaring at Dumbledore she repeated, "I did not know that."
"A recent development, I'm sure." Dumbledore twinkled in response.
"Hm, yes, quite recent." Snape took the cue. "I believe we have enough Order members to cover the coast from air. As I Apparate to the Dark Lord's mansion, I shall send up green sparks. Someone should be able to spot them -"
"We'll get our brooms!" the Weasley twins shouted in unison, and ran from the room just in time to escape another outburst from their mother.
"It seems we have decided, then." At the confirming nods from the people in the room, Dumbledore continued, "Severus, give us half an hour to get in position. Then you may Apparate to Voldemort."
The spy inclined his head, and in a billowing swirl of black robes, left the meeting room.
Harry stood and walked up to Headmaster Dumbledore. "Sir, can I help?"
"Aah, Harry. I think you should return to your dormitory."
"But, Professor -"
"Harry." He looked seriously at the boy. "Leave us to take care of this."
His eyes were downcast to hide the growing panic, and he said, "Yes, Headmaster." Then Harry walked out of the Room of Requirement, walked faster through the corridors, turned a bend and ran. He ran up to the portrait hole, through the common room and up the stairs.
Not caring if he woke the sleeping boys, he tore open his trunk and dug out the white mask and black cloak that marked him Lord Voldemort's heir. He bundled them up and grabbed his Firebolt; opening the window, he mounted the broom and flew out of the castle.
After landing in the clearing in the Forbidden Forest, he donned his Death Eater attire and Apparated.
The manor was dark. It stood tall and looming in the middle of the surrounding trees; the gaping opening of the main doors was tantalisingly inviting. So dark, you just knew it would swallow you whole, yet find yourself incapable of walking away.
Harry had no intention of running away; he walked as fast as he could to the mansion, in the doors. The cold breath of late night air following him, and extinguishing some of the torches that flickered on the walls of the corridor. He moved without hesitation; there was no doubt in his mind where his best friend would end up in enemy territory. His memory was good; he remembered where he had found Hermione on that fateful night.
He passed the niche Malfoy had pulled him into; he could already see the familiar cell door. Already he could hear voices, coming from somewhere before him. The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. A voice whispered in his head, 'Perhaps it will work out the same way. We'll be together. All of us, again.'
He stopped in from of the heavy door. It was opened just a crack and with the voices, a beam of light filtered out into the corridor. It formed a bright line in front of his feet he was hesitant to cross; for he knew that then he would be visible from the cell. So he stood, listening.
"You have to listen to me, Ron." Harry could detect the note of desperation in Hermione's voice. "This is not what you think."
"Not what I think? Enlighten me then, please." There were footsteps stomping around the room. "As I see it, you have betrayed our side, you have betrayed everyone, you've betrayed me and Harry. Merlin … you've betrayed Harry. You're supposed to be his best friend, you know what he has gone through because of Voldemort. You know what he has lost, and still you go to that bastard."
"Ron -"
"Don't 'Ron' me! You have no right. I don't know who you even are anymore. Were you ever our friend? How long have you been spying on us for him? Were you laughing when Harry was tortured last year by those visions?"
Harry heard a shuffle and then a thump as though someone had fallen to the ground. "Don't touch me!" Ron yelled. "Don't you dare to touch me."
Harry raised his hand to open the door and walk in, when he head Hermione say quietly, "Petrificus totalus." He stopped.
"Ron, you are going to listen to me." Harry peeked through the opening between the doorframe and the door. She was crouching over Ron's immobile body, fingering her wand nervously. "This really isn't what you think. Harry -"
He pulled up the hood of his cloak and checked if his mask was in place. Then he stepped into the room, interrupting Hermione from whatever she was about to say.
As she turned around to face him, he saw her mouth open. Almost in slow motion, the word came out. "Harry!"
He flinched; sometimes Hermione really wasn't too smart.
Glancing at Ron, he saw confusion in his blue eyes. The redhead was carefully studying the mask on his face, as though hoping to see beneath it by sheer force of will.
Hermione jumped up and hugged him. "What are you doing here?"
As her arms closed around him, he could see a dawning understanding flicker in Ron's eyes. He could not move, but he was struggling to mouth a word. He didn't succeed, but Harry could guess what he was trying to ask.
Harry let go of Hermione and stood over the body of his long time friend. "Finite incantatem," he said.
"Harry …"
He levelled his wand at Ron. "I'm so sorry," he said, and a tear trickled down Ron's cheek as the boy stared at the white-masked face of his friend. He sat up, and glared at Harry.
"I'm so sorry," the young wizard repeated, and opened his mouth once more. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in heavily, shaking his head once. Suddenly he smiled just a little, and said, "Obliviate."
When Ron slumped on the floor, unconscious, he grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her from the cell. As the door closed with an echoing metallic thump, Hermione asked, "Why did you do that? We could have explained … maybe even -"
He raised his finger to her lips. "Shush, there's no time; the Order is coming."
Her eyes widened.
"You shouldn't have taken Ron; they are determined to get here now."
"No, I -" She shook her head frantically. "I - it was an accident. He grabbed hold of me."
"Never mind now." Harry was already running down the corridor. "We have to find Lord Voldemort, we have to warn him."
Hermione took off after him.
As they climbed the stairs and entered the ground floor hallway, Harry heard shouting from all around. There were screams, spells bouncing off the walls, the mansion was alive with the sounds of fighting.
They were too late; the Order of the Phoenix had arrived, and the Final Battle had started.
A blue robe Auror fired a spell in their direction as they dashed through the corridors, towards Voldemort's audience chamber. The door had been blasted off the hinges and it was filled with smoke, and the bright flashed of spells. Harry pulled Hermione in and surged forward in an attempt to reach the Dark Lord who was surrounded by a circle of Death Eaters.
They were almost unnoticeable in the middle of all the chaos, but some of the black robed figures seemed to recognise their master's heir approaching and created an opening for him and Hermione to pass through in Lord Voldemort's line of defence.
The Order was getting desperate and several people, some whom Harry knew, threw themselves headfirst at the Death Eaters creating diversions to allow their companions to get nearer to Voldemort. As Harry looked frantically around, he saw Mad Eye Moody nearing from the side, gracefully slipping through the cracks in the defence. The old Auror had a possessed gleam in his eyes, and as Harry followed his line of vision, he saw that he was heading straight for Voldemort.
He raised his voice in warning, but the noise in the room muffled any attempt.
He aimed his wand at Moody, but there were too many people in the way. Suddenly, he felt a feather light kiss on the side of his head and saw a girl with tangled brown hair running. It was a race between her and the Auror.
Frozen to the spot, he touched the tingling spot on his head with the tip of his fingers, and Moody aimed his wand at Voldemort and voiced the Killing Curse.
Harry heard his Master's voice, speaking in this same room on that day, long passed.
Neither can live while the other does not…
She ran, and she jumped. The green light hit her in the centre of her chest and she crumbled to the ground, broken.
"No," he said quietly.
"No," he repeated and ran uncaringly through the people surrounding Voldemort. "No!" he screamed as he pulled the dagger from the folds of his robes and plunged it into the heart of evil.
He smiled when blood burst from the lipless mouth of Lord Voldemort. He smiled when the red slits of his eyes widened. He smiled when the wizard who had taken everything from him fell to the ground.
His face held no emotion as he removed his mask and his cloak, and sat down next to Hermione's body, cradling her head on his lap.
He sat, unmoving, as the fighting died down when the Death Eaters realised their master was gone.
And, at last, when he felt not a movement around him, he stood, carefully picked up Hermione's body, running his fingers through her hair, and walked out the door. A broken soul in a steel casing. The flames of darkness had consumed all there had been and left a statue with emotions wrenched out.
He walked outside, carrying his burden, and would have kept on walking if Dumbledore together with some Order members hadn't blocked his way.
"Harry," the old wizard said.
The desperate young man turned his face towards Dumbledore. It was grimy with sweat and soot.
"Is this my reward?" Harry asked him calmly. "Is this my punishment …" he added in a quiet breath to himself. He laid down her body on a clean patch of grass on the muddy ground of the battlefield and walked to Dumbledore. The Order members crowded closer, as not to miss anything that was going to be said.
But Dumbledore … Dumbledore backed away ever so slightly; he saw the madness and the grief in the young mans eyes and the greatest wizard of his time was scared. Scared of the blank desperation in his student's eyes.
Harry stepped closer. His voice was rising. "Is this what I get? I do my 'job'; I fulfil your damn prophecy … I save the goddamn world!" The stony bleakness of his face was that of walking death and the voice - Merlin, that voice - it sounded so ancient and so indescribably sad.
"Have you any idea, Dumbledore? Any idea …" a coarse whisper, "what I've had to do, what I've done. What I chose to do? I brought your peace, to your world!"
Alastor Moody chose that moment to step in. "Now, see here, boy, it isn't your place to speak to the headmaster like that."
Harry paled and turned to face the old Auror, in an instant his wand was in the older man's face. He gritted through clenched teeth, "Not my place … Not my place? You! You have no right to speak to me. Not after what you've done tonight. You should be thankful that I don't kill you on the spot." Harry lowered his wand and walked back to the resting form of the woman on the ground. He sat down next to her and took the white hand in his. The clearing was quiet for a moment. And then his empty voice spoke again. This time to the entire Order, or what was left of it.
"She is dead. She was my reason … for everything she was my reason." He was speaking quietly, almost as if only to himself, but in the quiet of the night everyone heard the words. "I gave all; I sacrificed all that was mine to give, for this cause. I let it take my conscience; I offered it my soul. And at last I surrendered … and still you won. You got what you wanted. And then you…" Harry looked up at the men and women surrounding him. "You had to take my heart."
The group of people stood together and watched the grieving young man and the body of the woman that had brought so much pain into his voice. A solitary moonbeam lit her face and the ragged robe she was wearing. Her left arm was exposed and there, a black blemish, the Mark of her sin for all the world to see. The Order members saw this constant reminder and could not understand the depth of his grief.
Then, Dumbledore, in a rare moment of complete stupidity, said, "Let it go, Harry. She isn't worth it. Ms Granger was a Death Eater, a killer and a traitor to the Light."
No one was prepared for it. The loud, crazy laughter suddenly filling the air around them. Through the maddening cackle, Harry shouted, "A Death Eater? Yes, she was, wasn't she? A killer too, a torturer perhaps as well … she was everything this war made her to be!" His gaze was locked on Dumbledore. "She was what I made her to be…" Harry's voice softened. "She never betrayed me … she was my heart." He closed his eyes and held tighter to her unmoving hand. "She was my best friend, she was my love."
Dumbledore saw the broken man on the ground in front of him, and suddenly something snapped. A dawning understanding in his eyes he whispered, "No - by Merlin - no."
The nearest person to him, Kingsley Shacklebolt, caught the silent denial and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "What?"
By now, Dumbledore had the attention of the entire Order as looks swapped between him and Harry. Dumbledore ignored them and, staring blindly at Harry, said, "It can't be…" Upon seeing the dark smile on the face of the younger man observing him, he continued his trail of thought out loud. "The rumours … Voldemort's two new lieutenants … his heirs … the ones whose identities where kept such a secret - a man and a woman. Professor Snape identified the woman as Hermione Granger, but we never learned who the man was…"
Dumbledore seemed unable to continue and the Order members were buzzing in confusion … that is until -
Harry smiled so peacefully, looking at Dumbledore when, letting Hermione's hand drop, he took hold of his left sleeve and slowly, bit by bit, rolled it up. Every person close by held their breath. On the pale flesh of the Wizarding world's greatest hero stood the mark of its greatest evil. Burning black on his left forearm was the Dark Mark.
Professor Dumbledore closed his eyes to stop the tears from coming; his shoulders sagged. And the most powerful man in the Wizarding world seemed to age to his years in an eye blink. His lips moved. "Why?"
"At first to win. To win at every cost. To win for her. For her …" He was unable to continue as the dryness in his throat made his voice die.
Harry Potter turned back to his love and shut every single person surrounding them out. His eyes were clear cold stones in a pale face. He made not a sound. He wished he could cry as he had once, when had thought he would lose her. When her embrace had brought the tears. He wanted to cry; he had forgotten how.
He never noticed the wizards and witches walking away. Leaving him and Hermione alone in the looming shadow of the dark mansion - unmoving silhouettes in the starlight.
… to be continued …