A/N - okay, not too sure about this chapter. Wanted it to be an 'explain everything about the battle' chapter to finish it all off. Hope this satisfies. Thank you again for your reviews and I'm glad no-one recognised the 'Buffy killing Angel with a sword' or 'Possessed Max pleading Liz to kill him (Roswell)' similarities, though with my own twist, I hope! One more chapter after this but I already have an idea for my next fiction! Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 23 - Forgiveness
"I loved you Harry, and you killed me."
Harry opened his eyes with a start and saw Hermione's broken face looking at him, her neck raw and red while her right eye was swollen shut. She was carrying Godric Gryffindor's sword loosely in her hand.
"It wasn't me," he tried to explain, "it was him, Voldemort! He made me…"
"Don't lie to me Harry!" she screamed at him, "you are evil! You killed me! You need to pay!"
Suddenly he felt an excruciating pain in his chest making him scream out. He looked down and saw the front of his shirt sticky red with blood. Shocked, he looked back at her and saw the sword was now covered in his blood.
"Why?" he asked, falling to his knees.
"I told you, you hurt me," she smirked as she looked down on his dying body, a satisfied smile on her face.
"I didn't mean to!" he cried, trying to stop the stream of blood with his hand, feeling his life ebb away. She just stood over him, smiling.
Things started to change as he felt fainter and fainter. He looked down at the hole in his chest before returning his gaze once more at her, wanting to say goodbye to her before he died. Instead, Harry watched in horror as her face morphed from something he loved so much into something he hated - Lord Voldemort.
"You tried to hide her from me, but you couldn't," he hissed, "and now she is dead because of you."
"No…"
"You killed her with your own bare hands," he continued on, the closest thing to a smile crossing his face, "you murdered the girl you were supposed to have loved. And somehow she killed you. See where love has got you?"
"No, you're wrong," Harry struggled to get out.
"Oh, am I?" Voldemort continued, "you strangled her, held her down until she couldn't breathe…"
The image of Hermione's eyes filled with fear as they looked up at him while he sat on top of her, his hand clasped around her throat splashed through Harry's mind.
"No…"
"You hurt her, but it wasn't over Harry," Voldemort sneered, "she took your sword and stuck it through your heart. Tell me, how could someone who loves you so much do that? In cold blood? I don't understand, to be quite frank."
"Hermione wouldn't do that," Harry moaned.
"Oh, but she did - remember."
He felt the pain again, a piercing pain in his chest. He looked down and saw the sword sticking out from within him, the blade had disappeared nearly up to the hilt - and a small, female hand was holding onto the handle. His eyes followed the arm and stopped when brown eyes met his green.
"No…" he groaned again, then screamed in agony as she twisted the sword, cutting his heart even further before wrenching the sword out from him, releasing the flow of blood.
He sunk further to the ground, but his eyes never left hers. He was dying, he could feel it, so when she knelt in front of him and turned the sword so its bloody point now was directed towards herself, he didn't have the energy to stop her. Harry watched in horror as she drove the sword into herself.
"Hermione! No!"
His eyes snapped open, confusion and fear filling his brain. It was light, sunlight was streaming down on him - it was no longer dark and cold like it was just moments before. He looked anxiously around him, but everything was a blur, all he could see were people shaped blobs. His head was throbbing and so was his chest - his chest!
Frantically he looked down and felt a wave of relief to see there wasn't a sword there, but there were bandages, and it hurt like hell.
"Harry…" He heard her voice, Hermione's voice, from just above him and tried desperately to get away from her. She was dead; he had killed her. What was next to him was a lie.
"Get away from me!" he cried, trying to move away but finding everything felt so heavy - his limbs wouldn't do what he wanted them to.
"Harry, mate, you need to stop moving." It was Ron this time sounding slightly anxious - but that didn't make sense. How could Ron be there along side Hermione? Had she fooled him into thinking she was real? Was Ron dead too?
"This isn't real!" Harry exclaimed, now fully panicked, "I…I don't understand!"
"Mr Potter, calm down!" Madam Pomfrey? Harry's confused mind recognised the matron's voice.
"No!" he shouted, "no, this isn't real! I'm dead! Hermione, she…no!" He tried to get up but felt some strong hands restrain him. He was vaguely aware that he was bleeding, but he didn't care. All of a sudden a new memory hit him, overshadowing all that was jumbling away in his mind - Voldemort had been inside him, had been him. He could still be dangerous - he had to get away.
Harry tried once more to get up, but the hands held him back. He was also getting weaker and soon, he was too weak to move.
"I'm dangerous," he mumbled as he felt unconsciousness engulf him, "stay away…" and then there was nothing but oblivion.
New images fired through his tired brain - Neville fighting Bellatrix, Hagrid's scream from the forest, Bill wounded, Remus with Greyback, Hermioe broken and bleeding…Harry woke once more with a start.
"Harry, mate, how're feeling?" Harry turned his head and saw a blurry Ron standing over him in the near darkness, obviously just risen from the chair by his bedside.
"Where am I?" he asked wearily.
"Hogwarts," Ron answered, his voice barely above a whisper, "your favourite hospital bed."
"How?"
"We…we brought you here, after the fighting…"
"I'm supposed to be dead."
"Harry…" But blackness had taken Harry once more.
This time when the nightmare started, Harry was prepared. He felt stronger, more in control, and when he saw Hermione accusing him, he no longer felt fear.
"I loved you and you killed me," she told him with no emotion.
"I'm sorry Hermione, please, please forgive me…"
"How can I forgive you? You need to pay!"
"Knowing what I've done, isn't that payment enough?"
"You fool!"
There was no morphing this time, the transition was swift as Hermione changed into Voldemort. Harry still felt no fear as he faced his enemy.
"You're dead," Harry announced, "you died when I did."
"Yet you are still alive," Voldemort snarled, "does that mean so am I?"
"No!"
Again, his eyes snapped open and again there were blurry people shaped blobs looking over him.
"Here you go," Ron said, handing Harry his glasses. Clumsily he placed them on his face, bringing the world back into focus. It was day again and although he recognised that he was in Hogwarts infirmary, his bed had been separated from everyone else's with large, solid looking screens.
Harry looked up into the worried face of his best friend, Luna standing next to him, and the memories came back.
"Stay away from me," he cried, "he's within me. Voldemort is alive within me - you need to lock me up…"
"Voldemort is dead Harry," Ron stated calmly, placing a strong hand on his shoulder, "he's not inside you. You're free."
"No! You don't understand," Harry exclaimed, once more trying to get out of bed, trying hard to ignore the throbbing in his chest, "he took control of me! He made me kill…oh God, Hermione!"
All Harry's struggles ceased as the enormity of what he had done struck him. He killed Hermione, the girl he loved, the girl that loved him. She had always trusted him and he betrayed that trust in the most brutal way there is. He killed Hermione. A grief that was indescribable filled him with despair.
"Harry…" Harry didn't look up at Ron, not able to look his friend in the eye after what he had done. He hid his face in his hands - one heavily bandaged, one bare - and stayed silent.
"Harry, look at me," Ron said, this time with a bit more urgency but Harry ignored him and instead began rocking back and forth slightly, consumed by grief and guilt - he killed Hermione. Nothing else mattered.
"She's not dead," Ron continued on, but Harry didn't believe him, "you didn't kill her Harry…"
"I killed her," Harry repeated numbly.
"Hermione's alive…"
"I did it, I strangled her. I killed her…"
"No you didn't Harry. I'm alive." Harry's head shot up at the sound of her voice and there she was, standing right in front of him. Her neck was ringed by an angry bruise, and there were more bruises covering her face but it was her. Harry frowned.
"No, you can't be real," he whispered, then, "please, let you be real."
He watched as she took a deep breath and made her way to him. She was slightly hesitant but she had the strength in her eyes that Harry admired so much. She was close enough now for him to see the remnants of many scratches and scars - his heart broke knowing that it was him that had caused them. When she gently took his face in her hands, the realisation that it wasn't a dream and she really wasn't dead struck him. When her lips touched his ever so softly, it became real.
She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes searching his - for what, he didn't know. The relief that she was alive had taken over and he was lost within her. Yet her eyes were troubled and a new concern came to him along with new memories.
She had stabbed him. He had asked her to kill him and she had.
His hand went to the bandage on his chest, a red stain in its centre from his earlier struggles. Hermione wasn't dead, but he was supposed to be.
When he looked back up at her, she had moved away, once more nervous and hesitant.
"What happened?" he asked her, "why aren't I dead?" Hermione looked frantically at Ron - Harry did the same, noticing that Luna had just returned silently to Ron's side.
"Er…perhaps we should get Remus…" Ron started and yet again more images flashed through Harry's mind: Neville, Ginny, Bill, Remus - when he last saw them, they had all been in combat. Hagrid's cry of pain. Are they alive? New questions bombarded him and the need to find out the outcomes of his friends became vitally important. Hermione and Ron were alive, Voldemort, it seems, was dead. His story could wait; he needed to know about his friends.
"They are on their way," Luna said to Ron as Harry tried to process what was happening. Hermione was alive, even though he had strangled her. He was alive, even though she had stabbed him. And Voldemort was dead.
As he lay there he realised what Ron said was true - Voldemort was dead. He knew he wouldn't be laying there calmly if the Dark Lord was still within him. Relief filled Harry, he was truly free. Soon his little room began to fill with people, all people that he cared about - but there were many missing as well.
His eyes fell on Remus. Leaning heavily on Tonks, the werewolf was scarred nearly beyond recognition. A large wound seemed to cover the right side of his face, starting just above his ear on his scalp and finishing somewhere unseen beneath the collar of his pyjama top and dressing gown. By the stiffness of his stance, Harry knew there were more wounds that were hidden out of sight. Remus seemed to sense his anxiety and smiled.
"I'm fine Harry," he stated firmly, "everything will heal eventually, I just won't be volunteering for the English Quidditch team for a while. It's you that have had us worried."
Harry barely acknowledged his friend's concern as he searched his memories and saw Peter Pettigrew, his silver hand in the chest of Fenrir Greyback, killing him.
"Pettigrew saved your life," he said thoughtfully, watching Remus's expression change.
"He repaid his debt," Lupin confirmed, his smile going, "but his death was inevitable, if not the way he died."
"Death?" Harry repeated, "did he get killed by one of the Order?"
"Not exactly," Tonks replied, the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Tonks, it's not funny!" Remus admonished.
"Well, actually it is," Ron said with a small smile, "kind of."
"Will someone tell me?" Harry asked, a slight smile touching his own mouth.
"Crookshanks caught him," Remus explained, "while he was a rat."
"You're kidding," Harry exclaimed, shocked.
"No,' Remus said, "brought the rat's body and placed it at the foot of my bed. Poppy nearly had a fit when she saw it there but Tonks recognised it for what it was and, well, there you go. Peter Pettigrew is dead."
Harry let the information sink in and in a way thought that was an apt end for a man who had spent a majority of his life as a rat. He looked back out at the sea of faces and saw one that brought him a genuine smile.
"Hagrid!" he grinned, "I heard you…I thought you were…"
"Not me "Arry," Hagrid said solemnly, "it was Grawp. 'E died a 'ero, 'e did. Took two of the ruddy giants with him. 'E was a good chap."
"I'm so sorry Hagrid," Harry consoled, "he was all that you had…"
"Well, that's not entirely true," Hagrid beamed once more, "now tha' yur back, 'Arry. I mean, yur me family, yur 're."
"Thanks," Harry smiled, "so, what happened in the forest? Where's Charlie?" Harry looked and saw that very few of the Weasley's were there - Ron and Ginny being the only ones.
"Both Fred and Bill are in pretty bad shape," Ron explained, "mum, dad and the others are with them at St Mungo's. Charlie and George are pretty much fine though Charlie got knocked around a bit."
"Knocked 'round!" Hagrid put in, "'e saved me life more than once, yur brother. 'E got the centaurs on our side, 'e did. Flighty lot they 're, inall. Not many Death Eaters made it through the forest tho! Nor none of the 'ther creatures they brought wit 'im."
"Charlie, Hagrid and the other creatures of the forest kept that side of the grounds secure," Professor McGonagall stated in her no nonsense manner, drawing Harry's eyes to her, "good to see you back Mr Potter," she continued with a rare smile.
"Thanks," Harry acknowledged, but frowned along with it, "though things are really confusing for me at the moment."
"That I have no doubt," the headmistress added. Harry looked at the man standing next to McGonagall and at first didn't recognise him. His head had been shaven with an angry wound (making him look like he had a permanent scowl) crossing the top of his scalp and finishing above his left eye. His arm was heavily bandaged while his free arm held onto a walking stick. It took a second look before Harry realised who it was.
"Neville," he gasped, unbelieving.
"Hey Harry," Neville replied, "I guess you can say I have a scar as well now, huh."
"That's a pretty big scar," Harry agreed with a grin before sobering, "when I saw you last you were fighting Bellatrix."
"Yeah, well, it took a while but I got her," Neville said quietly but there was a change in his voice - no longer was he tentative or scared, "actually, the greenhouse got her. It collapsed when we got inside, hence the head wound." Harry nodded, remembering Dumbledore's comment that the castle would help and it seems it did exactly that. Next to him was Ginny, who was standing closely at Neville's side.
"You good Gin?" he asked, seeing no real damage other than her being extremely pale and looking exhausted.
"I'm fine," she confirmed, "good to see you awake Harry. You had us pretty scared."
Harry then glanced at Hermione who was standing slightly away from everyone else, near the back of the group.
"Do you all know what happened to me?" he questioned, his eyes never leaving Hermione's, "how Voldemort died?"
"No," Aberforth Dumbledore answered for the group - Harry hadn't even noticed he was there, "Miss Granger is reluctant to share. You have been unconscious for over a week, veiled in secrecy."
"We will know in due time Aberforth," McGonagall interjected, "there has been more than enough to keep us going in the mean time."
"Like what?" Harry asked, drawing his eyes off Hermione to look back at the headmistress, then to Remus, who spoke first.
"Rebuilding," Remus explained, "the Ministry has been stripped bare both physically and with staff. Dolores Umbridge's betrayal reached the highest level - Scrimgeour was assassinated and we lost Kingsley in the struggle. The Ministry is leaderless, though Arthur has shown that he is more than capable in starting the rebuilding process…"
"Arthur led the battle here well," McGonagall interjected, "he would make a good Minister of Magic."
"Is he going to be?" Harry tried to confirm.
"No, his previous rank is too low," Remus said, "but the Ministry is lucky to have him."
"How about St Mungos? Wasn't that destroyed too?"
"It has been severely damaged, but not destroyed," Tonks answered, "once Voldemort was defeated, the Death Eaters that were there surrendered and control of St Mungo's returned to us. It's back to being a working hospital."
"Which is what we needed, there were so many injured…" McGonagall continued sadly, "quite a few coming from this school."
"How many professor?" Harry asked, almost too scared to know the answer.
"We lost fifty two students and two teachers with one hundred and one students requiring medical treatment either here or at St Mungo's," she told him, "the numbers could've been higher but the anti-apparation ward was never disabled. Barnabus knew he would not survive with the Death Eaters not knowing he had defied them until after he was dead."
"Who…who did we loose?"
"Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch from the staff," was the answer, greeted with sombre silence.
"Seamus, that Vance girl, Katie Lind, Stuart Carlson and Dennis Crevy from our house," Ron said sadly, "Dean is fighting for his life…"
"But they told us they were fine!" Harry cried, looking at Hermione for confirmation, she just looked sadly down at her hands - he slumped back and closed his eyes, "when we left them, they were fine…"
"Here you all are!" Harry opened his eyes to see a smiling Mr and Mrs Weasley make their way to his bed.
"Harry! Oh my dear, you're awake," Mrs Weasley cried, giving Harry a firm kiss on the cheek, "this certainly is the day for miracles!"
"Good news Molly?" Remus asked, the sombre mood retreating with the obviously relieved Weasley's.
"We were just told that Bill was being sent home when word came that Fred had regained consciousness," Mr Weasley explained, smiling as both Ron and Ginny got happy hugs from the respective partners.
"There is a long way to go mind," Mrs Weasley added, absently moving some of Harry's fringe to cover the bandage he didn't realise (until then) that he had on his forehead, "but, bless me, it is good to see you all back in the land of the living. I've been sick with worry, what with one thing and another!"
"It is good to see you back with us son," Mr Weasley said fondly, gently stopping the fussing of his wife over Harry, who was feeling both slightly embarrassed but grateful of her concern.
"Well, this is a fine how-to-do," growled a scowling Madam Pomfrey as she forced her way to Harry's side, "was anyone going to let me know Mr Potter was awake? And you," she pointed to Remus, "shouldn't be out of bed. Neither should you, Mr Longbottom."
"Sorry Poppy, but we thought…"
"Minerva, I expected more from you," the school matron interrupted, "this boy has been through the wars, literally I must add, and this is the first time of consciousness beyond a few moments for nearly ten days! His body needs time to heal!"
"I actually don't feel too bad," Harry started as she began to fuss, running various diagnostic spells over him.
"I think I'm better to judge that than you Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey grumphed as she continued her tests, "I want this area cleared! You," she pointed to Remus, "and you," then Neville, "back to bed."
"No."
The single word stopped everyone in their tracks as they had begun to file out from the temporary room. Harry looked at Hermione, who looked defiantly back.
"Miss Granger, this isn't the time…" the nurse started.
"Madam Pomfrey, I understand that this is your domain and you are only doing what is best for Harry, Remus and Neville," Hermione said firmly, "but Harry hasn't told his story. And I haven't told mine."
"Hermione, you don't need to do this…" Ron started, leaving Luna and rounding the bed towards her.
"Yes, I do Ron," Hermione replied, still holding Harry's gaze, "we do. The nightmares, the dreams…for either one of us to heal, we have to talk about it. And everyone needs to hear it, to understand."
"Understand what, Hermione?" Remus asked, making his way back to the foot of Harry's bed.
"Why I killed Harry." Her words hung in the air as every stared in her in shock, Ron being the only one who moved, stopping when he reached her side.
"That's just stupid," Ginny stated, a confused frown marking her face, "you wouldn't hurt Harry - it was You-Know-Who that hurt him…"
"Harry's not dead Hermione," Remus said softly.
"He was," she replied just as softly, "and I killed him."
Harry watched as her eyes dropped, releasing two large tears that rolled slowly down her face. Awkwardly Ron drew her into a hug and looked over her head to Harry. Harry just stared blankly back - his nightmare was true, she had killed him. Because he had asked her to.
"Perhaps its time to hear Harry's story," Professor McGonagall suggested, "Poppy, would it be better if Remus and Mr Longbottom were seated?" Harry could see the struggle within the matron take place on her face but in the end, she relented.
"Oh, all right then," she humphed, "Mr Longbottom, keep your leg raised. And Remus, you need to continue to keep sitting straight, the wounds on your stomach are not fully healed. Mr Potter seems to be in no great danger - but no sudden movements! The chest wound needs time to knit and your constant thrashing isn't helping. Now, if you excuse me, I have other patients to deal with."
And with that, she left. Chairs were conjured up for both Remus and Neville but Harry didn't really notice. Hermione was still hidden in Ron's arms and the sight was a bit disconcerting. He didn't feel jealous as such, but he wished that it was him she had turned to.
"Harry?" Harry dragged his gaze from his friends and looked at Lupin, "can you tell us what happened?" the old werewolf asked.
Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione, who had separated, but his arm was still held protectively around her shoulders. Harry dropped his gaze to his hands, took a deep breath, and began to speak.
"Voldemort told me he was by Dumbledore's tomb, that that was where we were to fight. I left Ginny and went there and saw that Malfoy was already there…"
"Draco Malfoy?" Hagrid asked, confused.
"Yeah," Harry continued, "he wanted revenge for his mother's death and confronted Voldemort. I hid in the trees, thought it was best to let him do what he needed to do," Harry paused, sighed, then carried on, "Snape came and tried to save Malfoy but Voldemort killed Malfoy anyway. He then turned on Snape." Harry paused again and looked up to the faces before him, finally turning to Hermione.
"You were right," he acknowledged, "Snape was on our side," his gaze returned to his hands, "he threw a potion of some sort at Voldemort which weakened him somehow. Snape was still alive at the time of the wand's bonding…"
"He died here in the infirmary," Remus told Harry, "two days ago."
"Oh." Harry didn't know what else to say. He still hated his old Potions teacher but he had to admit that Snape gave his life to help him.
"What happened next Harry?" Neville asked, bringing Harry's thoughts back to the present.
"I got Voldemort's wand and broke it. He was already dying, I think, because he couldn't fight me very well. That's when Hermione came," Harry glanced at her and saw she was listening intently. He carried on, "Voldemort went to attack her so I used sectumsempra. It killed him. That's when it got really strange, where things got confusing. I remember my head exploding with a pain like I've never felt before. And then he was within me, he was me. I was thinking his thoughts.
"I…I saw Hermione, but I didn't know her name, just that she was against me. I guess that's when I attacked her. When I attacked you." He looked at Hermione to see she was crying once more, large silent tears.
"It wasn't you Harry," she sobbed softly, "your eyes, they weren't yours. I knew as soon as you looked at me that it wasn't you."
"I nearly…I wanted to…he wanted me to hurt you and I tried to stop him but he was just too strong!"
"What stopped you?" Tonks asked, her voice also filled with tears.
"I…I don't know," Harry admitted, frowning, "one minute I was thinking about…the next minute on was myself again…"
"I told you I loved you," Hermione whispered, her eyes locked with his.
"I could feel him inside me, fighting for control and I knew the only way to stop him was to get Hermione to kill me," Harry continued the narrative, feeling tears filling his eyes. Somewhere in the room he heard a sob, probably from Mrs Weasley - but he didn't take any notice. All he saw was Hermione.
"Sweet Merlin," Remus muttered and somewhere there was another sob - but for Harry all there was was her.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed, ignoring the tears running down his face, "I should never have asked you to do that…"
"But it was the only way," she cried softly, "he would've used your youth and power to kill more and more people. I…I knew what I was doing was right but…" Her sentence didn't finish as she fell to her knees in tears, hiding her face in her hands, her sobs wracking her body. Ron knelt with her and held her in his arms, rocking her gently, giving her some comfort.
Harry awkwardly got out of his bed and made his way unsteadily to where she was. Kneeling down, he took her from Ron and held her as she cried, his tears mingling with hers.
"What you did was right Hermione," he tried to soothe, his voice barely understandable through his own sobs, "you couldn't let him take me, you wouldn't let him take me and I love you so much for that."
"You…you still love me?" she asked, her watery eyes looking at him.
"More now than ever before," he replied with a small smile.
"I was so scared," she said, her voice just above a whisper.
"Of me?" Harry questioned, his heart suddenly beating fast in his chest - she had every right to be afraid of him, every right in the world. Hermione continued to look at him and nodded ever so slightly, releasing another tear. His heart plummeted. With shaking hands, he gently touched the angry marks on her neck, knowing that it was his hands that had caused them.
"Hermione," he started tentatively, once more catching her eyes with his, "do you…could you still love me? After all that I've done?"
"It wasn't you Harry."
"They were my hands. You saw my face…"
"But it wasn't your eyes," Hermione finished, "your eyes showed me when it was him."
Harry took a deep breath, taking his hands from her so they no longer touched.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I could never stop loving you Harry," she answered firmly.
"But you were scared of me…"
"I know," her head dipped so she no longer looked at him. Reaching out, he lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.
"Can we get past this?" he asked nervously, "is there still a chance for you and me?"
She didn't say anything and just looked at him, her eyes once more brimming with tears. He again moved slightly away from her, resigned to the fact that she was going to say no, that too much had happened and she no longer could be with him.
"There has always been and will always be a 'you and me' Harry," she said finally, "nothing will ever change that. I was scared because I could see him taking you, and I thought that I would have to see this evil live in a face that I loved so very, very much. I'm scared now because, well, I put a sword through your heart, and I don't know if you could ever forgive me for that."
"Will you ever forgive me for strangling you?"
"It wasn't you…"
"Will you forgive me for strangling you?" Harry repeated, determined to get an answer.
"Yes," she said after a moment.
"And I forgive you for saving the world, Hermione," he continued softly, "because that's what you did." He watched as her shoulders rose and fell from a deep breath, his heart still going a million miles an hour as he still wasn't one hundred per cent sure that they were still together. Her next action eased his mind as she reached out and gently held his face before kissing him. A really long kiss.
"We'll get through this together," she told him after breaking away, her forehead barely touching his.
"Yeah," he replied, smiling what he knew was a goofy smile.
"We need to get you back in bed Harry, because if Madam Pomfrey saw you right now, she'd kill you," Ron stated matter of factly from just behind Harry. Harry had forgotten he was there, in fact he had forgotten everyone was there. Blushing terribly, he let Ron and Hermione help him back to his bed, noticing for the first time that yet again his bandages on his chest were stained with new blood.
As he settled himself, he looked embarrassedly around the room and saw that everyone had tears in their eyes or indications that they had been crying. Even Aberforth quickly ran a hand over his face as if to hide the fact he had been touched by Harry and Hermione's story. Harry smiled to himself.
"What I don't understand," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "is if Hermione stabbed Harry to kill You-Know-Who, who has died - how did Harry survive?"
"Good question," Harry nodded, looking back to Hermione who was now by his side, holding on to his good left hand, "why didn't I die?"
"That's Ron's story," Hermione replied and along with everyone else, turned her attention to the furiously blushing Weasley.
"Well, er, when Hermione brought Professor Lupin back to the castle, she told me that Harry had gone off to fight…um…him and she was going to help," Ron started, looking slightly uncomfortable with all the focus being solely on him, "I didn't want her to go off on her own cause, quite frankly, you loose it a bit when it comes to Harry, Hermione," Ron said, looking at Hermione who acknowledged his comment with a smile. He carried on, "it took me a while to get there, what with this leg and the fighting, and when I did, all I saw was Hermione pulling a sword out of Harry and then looking like she was going to turn it on herself…"
"What!" Harry exclaimed, thinking about his dream (that now seemed a lifetime ago) and the horror she would even consider doing something like that.
"I…I didn't think I could live knowing what I'd done," Hermione explained quickly, "but then I remembered our promise, Harry, and I couldn't do it." He took a deep breath, calming down his shock, and nodded.
"What was the promise?" Tonks asked.
"That if one of us died, the other would carry on," Harry answered, squeezing Hermione's hand a little tighter, missing the looks that passed between the adults around his bed.
"Anyway, Hermione dropped the sword and just sat there crying," Ron continued, "it was then I noticed Snape, Malfoy and a dead looking Vol..Voldemort. I went over to double check he was in fact dead, secured him just in case and then went to where Harry was. There was blood every where," he paused slightly as he got himself together, then carried on, "and Hermione, well, she looked bloody awful. I really thought we had lost you mate."
The two friends shared a look and Harry could see the mixture of emotions in his friends face. He gave a reassuring smile and waited for Ron to continue.
"I started to comfort Hermione when Fawkes came over and landed on Harry's leg…"
"Fawkes?" Harry repeated, "Dumbledore's Fawkes?"
"Yeah," Ron replied, "he brought you back Harry. He walked up as if to check you out and started crying into the wound on your chest. It took a little while, but it started to heal and you began to breathe again.
"I called Dobby and he and heaps of other elves got you all back to the castle…"
"Dobby's okay?" Harry asked, not sure why that was important but realised that it was.
"We lost only three elves," Professor McGonagall answered, "their magic is strong and they were able to protect themselves." Harry nodded.
"And I've been here for over a week?" he tried to confirm.
"Nine days, though you've been in and out for the last three," Hermione replied.
"Ron and Hermione have hardly left your side," Remus stated with an edge of pride.
"You were having shocker nightmares," Ron explained, "we didn't want to leave you alone."
"And everything was such a mess, we didn't want to tell anyone what had happened until you woke…" Hermione added.
"If you woke," Ron carried on soberly, "you had us really scared Harry."
"We knew that Voldemort had definitely died and not returned when Fawkes healed you," Hermione informed him, already sounding like the Hermione of old, "and I've been thinking about it and I think I know what happened, how Voldemort was able to use you like he did."
"How?" Harry asked, interested.
"Well, originally I thought your mum's magic had somehow stopped the Horcrux to activate," Hermione said with a small frown, "meaning that when the spell was reflected back on himself, Voldemort's soul wasn't transported to the next Horcrux for him to be 'reborn'. But I was wrong…"
"What!" Ron exclaimed with mock shock, "you were wrong? Incredible. Quick, inform the papers - 'Hermione Granger admits she was wrong!'"
"Very funny Ron," Hermione humphed as there were a few sniggers around the room.
"What do you think happened instead?" Harry quickly asked, trying to hide his own smirk.
"Mrs Potter's magic couldn't protect you fully Harry," she replied, ignoring the grinning Ron, "it saved you but the spell and the force behind the spell that Voldemort used was too much. He had planned to make a new Horcrux with your death but it all went haywire. Your scar became a Horcrux, activating when he died."
"Allowing him to join with me," Harry finished thoughtfully.
"Your scar started bleeding the moment you first collapsed and it has only recently stopped," she continued, "I suspect that when the bandages are removed it will be either gone or nearly gone."
"No more scar?" Harry asked, grinning.
"No more scar," Hermione repeated, mirroring his grin.
"What about the prophecy?" Neville questioned, "I mean, it doesn't quite match, the whole 'neither can live while the other does' stuff."
"It does - kind of," Hermione continued, "Harry couldn't live with Voldemort inside him. Besides, Divination is such a…"
"Woolly subject," Harry and Ron finished with her in unison causing them all to laugh.
"And on that note I think it's time for me to go back to my bed," Remus said, still smiling, "I think we've annoyed Poppy enough," awkwardly standing, he made his way over to Harry, "you are an incredible young man Harry - I've said it before and no doubt will say it again. What you have done, gone through is amazing."
"Thanks Remus," Harry replied shyly.
"Be proud of your achievements Harry," Remus continued, "enjoy and acknowledge all the accolades that will be coming your way because you deserve them!"
"I just want a normal life," Harry said truthfully, "one where I can take my girlfriend out on a date without worrying about being killed by a Death Eater or two - I don't have to worry about a Death Eater or two, do I?"
"There will always be evil," Aberforth spoke up soberly, "and there will always be wizards that use the power they have to kill. But Death Eaters are no more - their tie to Voldemort was too strong, most succumbing on his demise and now reside in a newly defended Azkaban Prison. Most of the minions that were fighting along side the Dark Side are now dead or also in prison - many were merely unskilled fighters too scared to say no to Voldemort."
"So you should be safe to go on your date, Harry," Remus smiled.
"Excellent."
A/N - did you really think I'd kill Harry?