Author's Note: I had tried so hard to write this before Deathly Hallows came out, but I ran out of time. But this chapter does not contain any spoilers for Book 7, as I tried to keep it as close to my original plan as I possibly could. I hope you like it
Chapter 15: The Final Battle
He had thought he was protecting her by distancing himself from her; but really, all he was doing was weakening himself. He couldn't pretend any longer that it was because of stress that his magical power was declining the longer they were apart; he couldn't pretend any longer that he was having nightmares every night simply because the end was drawing nearer. It was because of Hermione. Hermione was, and always would be, his source of his strength, his motivation, and his power. Without her, he was nothing.
I've been a right idiot, he muttered to himself.
And taking a deep breath, he called out "Hermione!" as he started to jog towards her.
But Hermione put her hand out, causing him to come to a stop. She was standing completely still, her eyes unblinking, as she stared in front of her towards the entrance to the chamber.
"Hermione," he said again. "We need to talk."
She didn't say a word; in fact, it appeared to Harry that she hadn't even heard him.
Finally she spoke, her voice sinister and grave.
"Someone is coming."
***
Harry whipped his wand out from his back pocket, and, holding it steadily in front of him, slowly made his way back to the entry chamber. He could hear Hermione and Ron shuffling behind him, their breathing heavy and uneven. As Harry approached the doorway leading to the entry chamber he could hear the sound of voices growing louder and louder. He motioned for Hermione and Ron to stop, and he tentatively pressed his ear up to the stone door. He was sure whoever was on the other side could hear his heartbeat, which was hammering wildly in his chest. He suddenly wished he had a pair of Extendable Ears.
Through the thick, stone wall, Harry could faintly make out a muffled voice saying, "Remember the Dark Lord's orders. We're to keep the Potter boy alive for when the Dark Lord arrives to finish him off."
"Death Eaters," he whispered frantically to Hermione and Ron, gripping his wand tighter in his hand, his other hand automatically grabbing the sword of Gryffindor that hung on his side.
"We can't just wait here for them to find us," Ron said, his voice cracking slightly.
Harry and Hermione both nodded. Then, slowly backing away, their wands at the ready, the three of them made their way back into the main chamber and huddled behind a pillar.
"How many of them do you reckon there were?" Ron asked, nervously biting his fingernail.
"I dunno… A dozen?" Harry whispered back, his eyes never leaving the doorway.
"A dozen?!" Ron cried out, causing Hermione to kick him in the shin to be quiet. Shaking his head, he said softly, "How the bloody hell are the three of us going to be able to fight against a dozen Death Eaters?"
Harry had no clue. He hated hiding here, like a coward, when he could be fighting the Death Eaters. Where was his Gryffindor courage? But his more rational side quickly reminded him how vastly outnumbered they were. They couldn't do this alone…
"We need to notify the Order," Hermione whispered suddenly, grabbing Harry's arm tightly. "Send Professor McGonagall your Patronus, Harry."
"But the Death Eaters will see it," Harry whispered back. "And then they'll know where we're hiding. There'll be no way of escaping."
Hermione bit her lip, looking down at the ground for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, said, "Yes. I know."
"You think I should?" Harry asked, turning to face her. He grabbed both of her arms with his hands, staring into her eyes. He didn't want to make this decision; he had led his friends needlessly into danger enough times already.
She nodded.
"Ron?" Harry asked, letting his hands drop from Hermione's arms. "What do you think?"
"I think you should, mate," Ron said, after a moment's silence. "There's no other way."
"This is the end then," Harry said softly. He didn't know exactly how he knew this was the final battle. He certainly hadn't anticipated it earlier that day when they arrived at Hogwarts; but yet, he knew it in the pit of his stomach. The Death Eaters had somehow known they were here. And since they knew, Voldemort would certainly be aware of that fact as well…
"Yeah, I think you're right," Ron said, nodding.
What to say to your best friends before facing what would be a horrible, deadly battle, Harry had no clue. He shook his head slightly, at a loss for words.
"Good luck?" Ron offered, causing both Hermione and Harry to nervously chuckle.
"Good luck," Harry repeated, smiling slightly.
"This is it then," he said, taking a deep breath. And conjuring his Patronus, he sent a message to McGonagall.
Mere seconds passed before the door crashed open. But Harry was ready. In quick succession, he stunned three Death Eaters, and triumphantly watched as they fell to the ground in a heap. Jumping over one, he yelled "Petrificus Totalus", before conjuring a shield to protect himself. The Death Eaters, while originally caught off guard, recovered quickly, and soon, spells and hexes were being shot all across the room.
Harry fired off any spell that he could think of, as he kept an eye both on his friends and on the chamber door. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort came into the Chamber of Secrets; only a matter of time before the final battle would take place.
Hermione was to his left, brilliantly waving her wand and shooting several spells in quick succession, and Ron was to his right, holding his own against a short, stubby Death Eater. Voldemort remained hidden.
"Harry!" he heard Hermione yell out behind him, and, spinning around, Harry found himself face to face with Severus Snape..
"Potter," Snape sneered, his cold, dark eyes fixed upon Harry with a mixture of disgust and resentment.
"Stupefy!" Harry yelled out. But Snape simply deflected the spell with a lazy flick of his wand.
"You insignificant boy," Snape sneered, lowering his wand, and circling around Harry, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "You never did learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed."
Hatred rushed through Harry stronger than he had ever felt before. This was the man who killed Dumbledore; the man who undoubtedly killed his parents. This was the man who made his life miserable the last seven years at Hogwarts…
Harry's eyes narrowed, his hand clenched so tightly around his wand that his knuckles turned white. "Is that so?" Harry said, his voice sounding uncannily like Malfoy's. "Snivellus," he added, with a smirk.
And before Snape could react, Harry flicked his wand, his mind screaming "Stupefy!" with every ounce of energy he possessed, and Snape flew backwards, hit the stone wall, and landed unconsciously in a heap on the floor.
A loud crash interrupted Harry's momentary celebration, and glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw, to his great relief, members of the Order standing gallantly in the doorway.
The battle continued. Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody fling two Death Eaters against the wall. To his left, Lupin and Tonks were standing side by side, fighting against a lumpy set of Death Eaters Harry recognized from the night Dumbledore died.
Spotting Hermione in the corner, fighting an old witch with dingy, soiled robes, Harry quickly rushed to her side, dodging spells in the process. "Stupefy," he said casually as he came up behind the old witch, sharing a slight smile with Hermione as they watched her fall to the ground.
Several stunners shot over towards the two of them, and Harry quickly grabbed Hermione's arm, dragging her down to the ground beneath him.
"Protego!" he yelled, scrambling back to his feet. Hermione jumped up next to him, conjuring her own shield as a spell shot towards them.
"Hermione," Harry gasped, still holding his wand out, ready for any attack. "I lied."
Hermione shot a stunning spell at a Death Eater. "What?"
"I lied, Hermione," Harry said, trying to catch his breath.
"With what?" Hermione asked, still not paying much attention, her focus solely on keeping the Death Eaters away.
"When you asked me if I loved you," Harry said simply.
"Harry, what are you talking about?" Hermione said, finally putting her wand down and turning to face Harry. He waved his wand, and a shield formed around them, protecting them from any spells for the time being. "This really isn't the time for small talk," she added.
"The day I broke up with you," Harry said, looking over his shoulder nervously. This really wasn't the place he had wanted to do this. But he knew the end was coming, he felt Voldemort's presence come nearer and nearer. "You asked me if I loved you."
"You said no," Hermione said softly, turning away.
"I lied," Harry said, his voice just above a whisper. "Hermione, I-"
"Harry!" Ron screamed out, causing Harry's attention to snap back to the battle. And looking to his left, Harry spotted the very thing that had caused Ron to call out.
Voldemort had arrived.
He stood almost majestically in the entrance of the chamber, his snakelike eyes glowing from the flickering fire from the torches. The light from the entry hall illuminated him, making him seem taller, thinner, more terrible…
It was as if time had stopped. The entire battle stopped as everyone, Death Eaters and Order members alike, simultaneously lowered their wands, their heads turned to watch as Voldemort entered the chamber.
Taking a deep breath, Harry made his way towards him, his head held high, the room parting like the Red Sea as he crossed the chamber. The room was eerily quiet, Harry's footsteps echoing loudly with each step he took.
But as Harry made his way across the chamber towards Voldemort, he forgot all about his talk with Hermione. He forgot about the ongoing battle, the Death Eaters, the Order. He forgot about his fears, his worries. He forgot about the Prophecy, he forgot about the possibility-the likelihood-of dying.
For now, it was only him and Voldemort. The moment he had waited for so long for-since he was a tiny baby-had arrived. And nothing else mattered.
"Potter," Voldemort snarled as Harry stopped in front of him. He stared at Harry with those callous eyes, causing a shiver to run down Harry's back.
"Riddle," Harry sneered back, holding back a smirk that threatened to emerge across his face. He held his head high and stared back with equal intensity, his eyes almost burning with hatred at the man standing before him, the man that had caused him so much anguish, so much pain, in his life.
"How dare you call me by that filthy Muggle name!" Voldemort hissed, raising his wand above his head, and pointing it down at Harry. "Crucio!" he yelled. Harry felt himself keel over to the ground in excruciating pain. He could hear someone screaming in the distance. It was pain so horrid, so intense that, for a moment, Harry forgot where he was. He could think of nothing but the pain. He clutched his scar in agony; he was sure it had split open. It was too much. Surely he was going to die from this torture.
But the pain stopped. Harry opened his eyes to see Voldemort smirking down at him, stroking his wand with his long, bony fingers. "That hurt, didn't it, Potter?" he asked, his eyes glistening with excitement.
Harry scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could manage, still feeling the effects of the curse. He held his head high and casually brushed off his robes, in the pretense that the curse had barely hurt. He did not want to give Voldemort the satisfaction.
Harry raised his wand, pointing it directly at Voldemort's chest.
"You think you can beat me?" Voldemort scoffed, raising his wand as well. "You think you can beat Lord Voldemort?" he chuckled. Then, raising his voice, added, "The greatest sorcerer in the world!" causing many of the surrounding Death Eaters to cheer.
"You may have been able to dodge death in the past, Potter, but I do believe your luck has run out," said Voldemort.
"Is that so?" Harry countered, sounding much more confident than he felt.
"Look around, you foolish boy," Voldemort continued, holding his arms out. "There is no one to save you. No Dumbledore around to help you, and no mother to protect you. And very soon it will be very clear who's the more powerful wizard. You cannot escape me any longer."
Harry narrowed his eyes and took a few steps backwards as well, his wand never once wavering. He could do this. He was ready.
"Bring it on," he said slowly, his eyes narrowed in determination.
Seconds later, Harry realized that he was, in fact, not ready, as he found himself flung backwards like a rag doll by a jet of purple light.
He scrambled to his feet, just as another jet of purple light came towards him.
Harry fired off spell after spell, whatever he could think of. But he was growing tired. His body felt like lead, his brain, clogged and stuffy. He couldn't keep it up any longer… He fell to the ground… Voldemort was closing in…This was the end…
"I love you Harry!" Hermione's voice suddenly rang out from across the room.
"Isn't that sweet," Voldemort sneered, standing over Harry, giving him a hard kick in the ribs. "The pathetic Mudblood loves you. How comforting."
Yet, it was comforting, in a way Voldemort could never fathom. While Voldemort continued to mock Harry, bursts of memories flashed before Harry's eyes in quick succession:
They were on the train, riding to Hogwarts for the first time. Hermione entered the cabin, asking them if they had seen a toad.
…The scene changed, and they were in the girl's bathroom on Halloween, Hermione was lying to the professors about the troll.
…"Me! Books! And cleverness!" Hermione was telling Harry. "There are more important thing-friendship and bravery and -oh Harry-be careful!"
…Hermione and Harry were riding on Buckbeak, soaring to the highest tower to save Sirius, Hermione holding Harry very tight around the waist, her face buried into his back.
…"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," Hermione was telling Harry after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name!"
…His eyes fell on the girl next to Krum at the Yule Ball. His jaw dropped: it was Hermione.
…They were in the Ministry of Magic. `A streak of purple flame passed right across Hermione's chest; she gave a tiny "oh!" as though of surprise and then crumbled on the floor where she lay motionless. "HERMIONE!" Harry fell to his knees beside her', not being able to breathe until Neville had enough sense to check for a pulse.
…"Oh, come on Harry," Hermione was saying, sounding impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable!"
…He was back in his room at Grimmauld Place with Hermione, just having woken up from a nightmare. He slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to Hermione's, causing a burst of light and magic to shoot from his scar.
"You know what your problem is, Tom," Harry said, jumping to his feet, startling Voldemort. It was evident that he hadn't expected Harry to be able to respond. Though a second later, the look of surprise had vanished, and was once again replaced with contempt and composure.
"You never experienced love, so all your life you have constantly underestimated its powers," Harry said loudly as he slowly circled Voldemort. He felt a sense of power and control rush through him, all exhaustion and fatigue that had tainted him before was gone.
"There is no such-" Voldemort began, his snakelike eyes narrowing, but Harry cut him off.
"Your own mother didn't even love you," Harry continued, his voice growing a little louder with every word he spoke. "Ditching you at that orphanage, after her Muggle husband left her."
He turned slightly towards the crowd of Death Eaters that were huddled together. "Your master, your `Dark Lord', was a Half-Blood, did you know that?" he asked, overtly. Raising his eyebrows as he turned back to face Voldemort.
"That is enough!" Voldemort roared. "Crucio!"
The pain was worse than before, since, Harry figured, Voldemort was far angrier. But Harry had too much adrenaline running through his body, too much excitement, for the curse to fully cause him the desired pain.
The pain stopped, and Harry continued speaking as if he had never been interrupted. His bones ached, his head throbbed, yet he couldn't stop now. He knew Voldemort was horribly angry, and it could be any time when the killing curse came.
"It was my mother's love that saved me that night sixteen years ago," Harry said very quickly. "Saved me, and destroyed you," he added hurriedly, as he saw Voldemort raise his wand in fury.
"It destroyed you," he repeated, louder this time.
"It did not destroy me," Voldemort snarled, though Harry noticed his wand drop ever so slightly. "I am still very much alive, and even more powerful. Some could even go as far as to say, I'm immortal. And once I kill you, nothing will stop me."
"I know about your Horcruxes," Harry said, smiling as he watched the color drain from Voldemort's face. "The diary, the ring, the locket, the wand, the snake, the cup…" he paused.
"All destroyed."
"All that's left…is you."
Voldemort, who had been silent the last couple of moments, seemed to snap out of a trance, yelling, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" , his voice echoing all across the chamber walls.
But Harry had been anticipating this. Right before the spell hit him, he yelled, "Expelliarmus!", causing the two bursts of magic to connect, just as they had years before in the graveyard. But this time, Harry knew what to expect; he had been counting on that connection to occur when the two wands met.
Harry broke the bond before the cage could form, before the shadowy ghosts could appear as they had before. Last time, he was fighting to stay alive. This time, he was fighting to win.
Harry reached deep inside of him, picturing his friends, his classmates,…Hermione, and he began feeling the magic build slowly within himself.
He felt his magic spread through his body, swelling from his heart, and make its way across his arms, through his hands, and down his fingers. The magic magnified. His body began to shake from the growing intensity. He couldn't hang on to it any longer. It was too much.
And then it exploded. With a brilliant rupture of light, the entire chamber glowed with intense whiteness, causing Harry to have to shield his eyes. He felt the magic slowly leave his body, and the light slowly faded.
When the light had vanished, Harry looked around and saw that he was the only one left standing, though many members of the Order were slowly climbing to their feet. The Death Eaters, it appeared to Harry, were knocked completely out. And lying in front of Harry at his feet, was Voldemort.
Was he dead? Harry didn't think so. He stared at the limp body in front of him with disgust, his body shaking with hatred. He felt consumed by that hatred, consumed by the determination to end Voldemort's reign of terror. This was the moment he had waited for all his life.
With striking confidence, he pulled out Gryffindor's sword. And holding it high above his head, Harry brought the sword down, through the center of Voldemort's chest, where is heart should have been.
The body slowly began to deteriorate; the pieces began to break away and crumble to the ground, much as Professor Quirrell had when Harry had touched him back in his first year. Soon, all that was left of Lord Voldemort was a pile of ashes, and a long, wooden wand.
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