Chapter 23 - The Cursed Scar
Harry locked his gaze on Hermione's tear streaked face, the smell of her burnt hair becoming prominent. He looked up and saw that several people, mostly students, but also some Light Bearers and American wizards, had gathered to watch the fight. Now they were all just standing around in a state of shock, too scared or demoralized to take any action. Some of them had never seen an uninhibited wizard duel, brawl was more like it, and thus their faith in their own ability to affect the outcome was clearly nonexistent.
Harry didn't know how many had heard Voldemort's claims of invincibility, but probably all of them had seen him take Hermione's unorthodox fire spell and survive. Not to mention all the other lethal spells that the Dark Lord had brushed off as if they were mere annoyances.
"Hermione," Harry said. "I think I'm slightly loose here."
Voldemort looked up as Harry's crystalline restraints creaked under the strain of his attempted movements. He flashed his wand and a new layer of crystal grew over the busted parts to reinforce them.
A shout of "Avada Kedavra!" echoed throughout the otherwise deathly still chamber. Hermione looked up hopefully expecting to see someone, anyone, coming to their aid. If only they could get free they could continue, they could think of something. Instead the flash of green light ripped through the stone at Harry's feet just narrowly missing him.
"Hurry," the same voice yelled out. "Kill Potter before the Dark Lord becomes immortal."
"Wha-a-t?" Hermione said in a high pitched whine, not wanting to believe her ears.
A half dozen deadly curses lanced out from various points all around the dark chamber, but none of them hit. Voldemort levitated huge chunks of broken staircase to absorb the blows and then retaliated against the interlopers with a hail of fine metallic projectiles. The sound of stone chipping and metal ricocheting intensified until Voldemort stopped the attack when he was satisfied that no one else would interfere. He had barely lowered his wand when another round of killing curses and other types of lethal spells jumped out from different locations toward Harry.
"Stop it, Stop it, STOP IT," Hermione screamed emotionally over the din of yells and enchantments that had filled the still air with a roar of noise. Harry looked at her distraught features with an immense sense of sadness and longing. He could hear Ron shouting threats to anyone else who might try to take a shot at Harry. Despite their efforts it still sounded like their friends and allies were starting to fight amongst each other. Not that Harry could blame them.
"Hermione," Harry said sadly. "Maybe it would be better if, you know… I don't want Voldemort to live forever."
"NO," Hermione said emphatically, "As long as you're alive you have a chance. They're not thinking properly anyway. They can't kill you anymore than they can kill Voldemort. All their spells might accomplish is incapacitating you so that if you do manage to get a chance to finish the prophecy you would be unable to."
Harry tried to keep from looking up but he could still see the occasional flash of various spells as everyone became more desperate. Instead, he looked at Hermione with a sense of regret and longing. Regret at the life they would never get to have together now, and longing to hold her just one more time before his existence was forever altered by Voldemort. His body felt numb from the cold confining tomb of crystal that he was mostly encased in and his eyes closed wearily.
He felt something warm press up against him and opened his eyes again. "Hermione?" he asked quizzically as bushy hair filled his vision. All around them there was nothing except a blinding white light.
"Harry?" Hermione replied. She also sounded confused. "How did we get here? We're not asleep, or at least I'm not."
"I don't know, I remember that I wanted to hold you again really badly and then this sorta just happened," Harry said. They still didn't understand the full extent of their mental bond, which was in many ways still developing.
"I'm glad," Hermione said softly as she tightened her arms around him in a needy hug. She didn't want to voice her fear that Harry had only been able to accomplish such a feat because he had accepted that his death was inevitable. Or, if not his death, the end of his life as he knew it as Voldemort trapped him in some kind of limbo designed to preserve the prophecy and with it gain his desire of immortality.
The white light faded slowly until a new set of scenery came into focus. It was the lake around Hogwarts, as it looked in the spring, with the grass and trees around its banks breaking out in new green. He put his arm around Hermione as they walked silently, content with each other's presence and unsure of what to say at such a moment. Harry looked at Hermione's troubled countenance and felt the pang of sadness in his chest intensify.
Ever since they first met Hermione had always treated Harry like just another person. No, that wasn't quite true, she had always treated him special, but special for who he was, not for who he was made out to be. Other people, students, teachers, panderers, had all made a big fuss about getting in a picture with him or being able to say they knew him, but the number of people who had actually been there for him, Harry, rather than the Boy Who Lived was very few indeed.
He thought back to all the times that Hermione had chided him for procrastination in his classes, his unwillingness to read beyond that which was assigned, or just for general laziness. His other friends, even Ron, rarely if ever were critical of anything he did or failed to do. Maybe some people liked being surrounded by uncritical company, but upon reflection Harry recognized Hermione's willingness to do the right thing even it upset him as the depth of her character and her friendship toward him.
Hermione looked up at Harry and knew immediately that he was pondering something, probably the sum of his life. She had long ago perfected the art of reading Harry's face, his eyes, and discerning his thoughts from them. It was cute how he always thought he was being clever about hiding some emotion or worry that he didn't want to trouble her with, but she always knew. Right now he was worried about failing her, probably regretting that they would never grow old together or have children.
It was a matter of pride to Hermione that she didn't lie to herself, that she viewed the world from an analytical standpoint, without even the slightest hint of rose colored glasses. She accepted long ago, when the other children at the muggle school she attended shunned her, that her personality was not one that meshed well with general society. Most muggles were obsessed with sports, but Hermione had never cared for them. Wizards were the same way, though admittedly Hermione had managed to enjoy Quiddich, especially when Harry was playing. Still, her fondness for intellectual pursuits had alienated her from the bulk of society in both worlds, muggle and magical.
Harry was the first person in the magical world with which she felt she had a true friend. He didn't make fun of her studious ways, even if he wasn't inclined to join her for an afternoon read, and in his own awkward way he complemented her talents when no one else did. Hermione also knew that she wasn't the most beautiful girl ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts. Her hair was usually unstylish, her teeth had been too big before fourth year, and the best word her immense vocabulary could muster to describe herself was plain. Even her clothing was unassuming, conservative, and, well, plain. It still sometimes amazed her how Harry could stumble around blind to the huge number of flashy prim girls who pined for his attention, but that was part of what she loved about him. Harry cared about people, not appearance.
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Harry said, breaking the silence. "I'll get to see everyone again; my parents, Sirius, Hagrid…"
Harry didn't say that he would probably get to see Hermione too. In all likelihood Voldemort wasn't about to let her or anyone else who had resisted him survive. He had meant for it to be comforting, but instead Hermione broke into fierce sobbing.
"Harry you great idiot," she wailed as she clutched him frantically, her small fists making weak impacts on his chest in her frustration. "If this works like He wants it to you won't be dead. You won't get to see anyone ever again, you'll be in some kind of limbo or worse you'll be in endless torture."
Harry winced and stroked her hair reassuringly. He had never been all that good with expressing emotion and finding the right words to ease her pain when he was about to be overwhelmed by his own seemed impossible. Harry could almost feel the multitude of people who had died in the war looking down on him in accusation that his shortcoming had made their sacrifice be in vain. Something this important to the future of the world should not come down to the success or failure of one person!
"It'll be okay," Harry stuttered finally, "This is just Voldemort's wild scheme right? It probably won't even work. He might even die in the process! Yeah, this could even be what the prophecy was talking about."
"Harry," Hermione interrupted. She sniffed loudly and rubbed her eyes. "You don't have to try to cheer me up. We should be trying to think of a way out of this instead of despairing."
"I don't know what more I can do," Harry said dejectedly. "We worked as hard as we could, we mastered as much magic as possible, and I know we fought with all the power we had."
"We've got to think," Hermione insisted. "At this rate the prophecy had no chance whatsoever of being fulfilled in your favor. That- that just can't be possible."
"I know," Harry sighed. "I want to do more, but I just can't see how. I'm not even sure I can wake back up anymore… It's like the old saying, the spirit is willing, but the body is weak."
"I won't accept that Harry, I won't," Hermione said, agitating and resolve filling her voice. "You've suffered too much, we've suffered to much, everyone…I wanted us to be a normal family, I wanted more time with you."
Harry took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the ring that he had given her. Its bright red jewel sparkled with the promise that he had made to her and her to him. "Just be thankful for the time we had," Harry said softly as she buried her face in his chest again. "I'm so thankful that you didn't die last year, that our love managed to save you then, that…"
Hermione's mind tuned out, his voice becoming a pleasant buzz in the back of her as she remember those times when they had both felt so much relief at her recovery. She shuddered and tried not to think about the attack that had nearly taken her from Harry. Voldemort's foul darkness invading her consciousness, eroding that elusive quality that made her who she was, and the fear that Harry's efforts to save her would result in his own death. Hermione looked up into his face dreamily and set about to caress with her gaze each memorized line one last time. To her, he was faultless, even the scar that that beast had inflicted on him.
"Your scar!" Hermione exclaimed giddily.
"My scar?" Harry echoed questioningly.
"Remember the battle at the Ministry when Voldemort tried to possess you?" Hermione asked. "Remember why he failed?"
"Dumbledore said it was because Voldemort couldn't stand to be inside someone who knows what it means to love," Harry said.
"We've been trying to fight Voldemort the wrong way," Hermione said. "We've been trying to fight him on his terms with dark deadly magic and unexpected battle strategy."
Hermione reached up and touched Harry's scar delicately, as if it might swallow her up suddenly.
"Voldemort left you a pathway to his mind, his emotions, to the very essence of his being," Hermione continued. "A being that cannot stand what you are. Your love and compassion is a poison to him."
"But I don't know what to do," Harry said dejectedly. "I don't know how to possess people. I don't know how to use the scar to access Him."
"I do," Hermione said with a hopeful smile. "When he tried to destroy my mind I saw what he was doing to me at the time. I think I can remember enough to help you fight him one more time."
Harry nodded, optimism once again flaring in his chest as they concentrated together to carry out Hermione's final plan. Harry saw through the eye of Hermione's mind as she recounted how Voldemort had assailed her consciousness. The view of the lake and Hogwarts shimmered away as Harry began to recreate the technique that Hermione was demonstrating to him. Once again they were standing in the shattered broken remains of the enchanted staircase chamber. However, much to Harry's surprise, they were standing in some kind of incorporeal form directly behind their bodies, which were still encased in crystal.
"This is it Harry," Hermione said. She sighed deeply and prepared to concentrate on the next phase. "Remember that everything we do now is a manifestation of our minds. The rules don't work the same as they do in the real world. When Voldemort attacked me I was knocked out pretty quick, but I was still aware of everything that was going on somehow. That's when I followed our link back into your mind."
The scar on Harry's forehead began to throb as he focused on forging a connection between his mind and Voldemort's. He didn't know how the Dark Lord's mental defenses would come into play, if they would at all, since Hermione couldn't remember if her Occlumency had helped any when she had been attacked. A connection began to form in the guise of a long thin fuzzy looking golden thread between the scar on Harry's physical body and Voldemort.
Hermione glanced worriedly at the scene before her as Harry kept trying to break through with his magical connection to Voldemort. The dark wizard didn't even seem to be aware of their attempt yet, which was a good thing, except that he seemed to be nearing the conclusion of his ritual. The magical seal that he had conjured as a set of black lines had begun to glow green. Only a few more segments of the seal had yet to light up and when they did Hermione was sure something terrible would happen.
Harry glanced over when he caught Hermione chewing on her lip worriedly out of the corner of his eye, but quickly returned to the task at hand. He knew that time was critically short the same way Hermione did. The blazing green seal was a dead give away. His brows furrowed in concentration and he imagined the line that connected him to Voldemort going taunt. Harry didn't understand exactly what he was doing anymore, but the golden thread suddenly came into perfect focus.
"Now Harry!" Hermione shouted. She reached over and grabbed his hand in hopes that she could provide some kind of aid or support to him somehow.
Voldemort suddenly writhed on the seal, which stopped its progression, and roared out in indignant pain.
"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harry yelled. "You wanted to trap my spirit inside you didn't you?"
"Don't Harry," Hermione said gently.
Harry looked at from Voldemort's twisting form back to Hermione's radiant face. Her chocolate brown eyes locked with his and she nodded slowly. Harry looked back over the war one last time as he recalled her words. "We've been trying to fight Voldemort the wrong way." He had been fighting Voldemort out of hatred. Hatred for Voldemort and for what had done to the people Harry loved.
"So you will never hurt anyone again," Harry said softly as he advanced on Voldemort. He drew on the fond memories of all the people who he had cared for and who had cared for him, both living and dead. His parents, Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Luna, Ginny, Molly, Arthur, Neville, Moody, and so many others all seemed to reach out from where ever they were to give him strength. He stepped away from Hermione, following the thin golden strand to where Voldemort lay cowering.
"No, stay away, stay back," Voldemort whimpered. The visage of the Dark Lord fell away in that moment of terror until only Tom Riddle remained. Harry poured himself through the opening that the cursed scar had forged between himself and Voldemort. The very thing that had enabled Voldemort to invade Harry's dreams, possess his body with ease, and torment him with dark emotions now became the instrument of his undoing.
Love for the world, love for friends, love for family, love for one special person, and love for one's self. In the recesses of Voldemort's being the one rare quality of love that he could not abide scattered away the darkness. So engrained into Voldemort's being was the darkness that had accumulated from long decades of evil, evil that he had chosen to do with his own hands, that the light of Harry's love for all those around him was too powerful and primal a magic for him to resist.
Voldemort's dark being desperately looked for a place of refuge, a place to escape the searing light, but it had no place to go, no other vessel that would give it safe harbor. Harry reached out with his mind and touched Voldemort's as surely as he touched him physically that day nearly seven years earlier when he was a part of a man named Quirrell. Now, just as then, Voldemort, his heart filled with greed, ambition, and hatred could not bear the naked touch of someone that had given and received so much love. However, this time, instead of destroying the corrupted flesh it was the corrupted soul that flaked away into nothingness and perished.
Harry's vision was suddenly obscured by a mass of very bushy hair as Hermione threw herself into a hug that nearly knocked him over. He didn't say anything, they didn't have to; instead he just gave her a hug in return as fiercely as the one she had given him. Her lips pressed down onto his as their world faded into brightness.
"Harry!" a voice called from impossibly far away.
"He's alive," someone else said. "They're both alive."
"So is You-Know-Who!" a third person exclaimed with a terrified voice.
Harry's eyes flew open and he tried to move, but found he was still restrained. "W-wand," he gasped.
The crystal that had been restraining him shattered and he fell forward onto the floor before anyone could find his wand. Hermione's prison had likewise fallen apart by the time Harry managed to regain his unsteady feet.
"Here," Ron said.
"I think this is Hermione's," Luna said as she fingered the phoenix core wand.
"Let me have that one now," Harry said.
"What about…Him?" Ron asked nervously, indicating Voldemort.
"He's gone," Hermione said breathlessly, "Harry killed him."
"But its still breathing," one of the wizards in gray argued.
"Ah, the vessel lives on but it no longer carries a consciousness," Dumbledore said. McGonagall, who had been revived at some point, had helped him down the three story drop.
"Avada Kedavra," Harry said forcefully. The green light impacted Voldemort's body, but the empty shell didn't stop breathing.
"We've got to dispose of it somehow," Hermione said.
"We can't just bury it where someone might find it," McGonagall said emphatically.
"There is one place where no one can reach it," Harry said, thinking quickly. "The Chamber of Secrets."
Harry levitated Voldemort's body after he confiscated the Ring of Erus and his wand. Other than that the Dark Lord had surprisingly few items, all of which were mundane, with him.
"Professor," Harry said respectfully as he offered the wand and ring to Dumbledore.
"Ah, Harry, it might be best if you kept those safe for the time being," Dumbledore said quietly. "It would be very bad if they fell into the wrong hands and I'm in no shape to protect them right now."
"Okay Harry, lets get this over with," Hermione said. She had uncovered one of the rubble buried hallways that led to Myrtle's bathroom. As they walked through the halls Harry observed the bodies that were scattered everywhere. Instead of a victory parade their triumph had culminated in a funeral procession.
"Toss it in," Hermione said dully when they reached the shattered bathroom.
"Everyone who can should start helping the children get out," Harry said.
"Don't worry Harry, I'll take care of it," Ron said. "I want three volunteers to sweep the castle looking for Death Eaters and survivors. If you find survivors then take them to the hospital wing, if Death Eaters then send a message to me immediately. Make sure you don't hurt any werewolves that have Light Bearer insignia on them."
Harry didn't listen to the rest of Ron's instructions before leaping down the shaft to access the Chamber of Secrets. He used his wand to slow his descent so that he touched down lightly next to Hermione. Harry levitated Voldemort's body and started forward to where Hermione seemed to be searching Bellatrix's body.
"I wanted to get her wand," Hermione said simply. "I thought we might as well put her in there with her master."
"Its what she would have wanted," Harry agreed, not that he really cared. They started forward again, now in plain view of all the children and the professors who had watched over them. Some of them cried at the teens' frightfully battered appearance while a few muttered sentiments of congratulations or disbelief. Most simply stared at them in shock as they slowly moved through the crowd to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry hissed in parseltongue the command for the Chamber to open and as it did they stepped into its dismal cavernous darkness. Together they walked all the way to the far side of the Chamber, just below the face of Slytherin. Side by side Voldemort and Bellatrix were laid in the exact spot where Harry had discovered an unconscious Ginny six years earlier. Harry lifted up one of the stones that paved the floor with a spell and deposited the two wands in the hole it made along with the Ring of Erus. Hopefully even if someone did manage to break into the Chamber they would never dream to look for anything under the floor.
"I have some wards left," Hermione said. "We should place our strongest defenses on this place."
"Yeah," Harry said. The last thing they needed was for some other wizard to gain access to Voldemort's living body. Who knew what kind of terrible secrets about his dark experiments could be revealed? Voldemort had come within a whisper of making himself immortal. For all practical purposes succeeded in making himself invincible even before he started down his vampire-like scheme of augmenting and then draining muggles' natural ambient magic.
They worked together feverishly with as much haste as their exhausted bodies would allow until they had erected the best defenses that they could on such short notice. Harry felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from him as they walked back toward the Chamber's entrance.
"Its over," he said happily.
"Its over," Hermione confirmed. Harry pressed his lips down to hers again in a joyous passionate embrace that translated all the words of endearment that he wanted to say into a blissful physical rendition of his emotions. When they finally broke apart Hermione's eyes were shining brightly and Harry knew he was probably grinning rather foolishly.
The opening that guarded the Chamber of Secrets shut itself with a slight thump after the two teens left. Hermione stooped down and drew on the floor beneath the entrance one final protection in the form of a cursed seal. She added a drop of her own blood and then a drop of Harry's so that they would be able to pass through its protections unchallenged.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick said politely as they approached him. All around them the children were being moved single file toward the access shaft and levitated back up to the people awaiting them on the surface. "We seem to have encountered a problem. Mr. Malfoy is missing."
"Missing?" Harry echoed. "How did that happen?"
"I don't know," Flitwick replied. "I stunned him during Miss Granger's duel with the Lestrange woman, but after that I lost track of him and now he's simply…not here."
"We will investigate," Harry assured him. Somehow it wasn't overly surprising that a known Death Eater would disappear. Harry suspected that many such people would become scarce in the coming days.
"Harry, that reminds me, when I was fighting Bellatrix something strange happened," Hermione said suddenly. She focused on the memories and shared them with Harry through their link.
"Pettigrew?!" Harry asked incredulously. "Why would he help you like that?"
"A wizard who owes his life to another will often be compelled to repay it whenever possible," Hermione said with a shrug.
"And since he couldn't save my life he saved the one life that he knew I would value enough to repay me for his own," Harry finished.
"It makes sense," Hermione said. She glanced at Harry uneasily. "Do you think we should go after him?"
"As far as I'm concerned we're even," Harry said. "I can't really hate him anymore for what he did to my parents. In some ways he was a victim of Voldemort as much as anyone else was.
"That's true," Hermione said slowly, as if she didn't quite believe him but didn't want to disagree. She was relieved that Harry didn't want to embark on a vendetta against someone who didn't matter anymore. In an ironic indirect sort of way Pettigrew had actually been responsible for the defeat of Voldemort on two separate occasions now. "Voldemort would probably have done all the things that he did with or without Pettigrew's help, but there is no way I would have survived had he not given me my wand when he did."
"Do you really think its safe to leave that thing in the Chamber?" Flitwick asked. Harry and Hermione startled slightly when his voice jarred them out of their mental conversation. The last of the children were disappearing up through the piping back to the castle where they would hopefully be attended to by the remaining staff.
"There is no safer place that we know of," Hermione said. "We can search for a better solution later, but for now we need his body secured to make sure no Death Eaters get a hold of it and discover their master's secrets."
Harry, Hermione, and Flitwick ascended the piping together after they had made one final sweep to make sure no one was left behind. The bathroom was in even worse shape that Harry had realized from the first time that he had seen it.
"You're alive," Myrtle said as she burst unexpectedly through a wall. She looked around sadly. "My
home is ruined…"
"Sorry about that," Hermione said. She gave the ghost a weak smile. "I'll do my best to fix it."
"You will?" Myrtle said hopefully. Hermione tried not to look uneasy as Myrtle's transparent faced loomed large in her own. She waved her wand and some of the shattered masonry leapt back into its old position, but a good deal of the bathroom remained destroyed.
"Miss Granger don't be silly!" Flitwick exclaimed. "You're in no shape to be doing that much magic right now."
"We'll come back and fix it later," Harry said hurriedly as Hermione clutched his left arm due to the exhaustion that her efforts had intensified. He winced in pain, almost unable to stand himself anymore, let alone support Hermione too, but he didn't say anything as they picked their way through the rubble.
"I guess we'll be heading to the hospital wing then," Hermione said with forced cheerfulness.
"Sibyll, Irma, please help them," Flitwick said. "The rest of us will get the uninjured children to the Great Hall and start sending owls. Parents are going to be screaming for answers."
Harry didn't say so, but he was grateful when Trelawney took Hermione's weight off of him. The cumulative toll on their bodies during the last few hours had been immense. Not only had they nearly exhausted their magic on more than one occasion they had also both used the magic enhancement potion twice. Now that its affects were gone Harry felt like he was going through some kind of withdraw. It was like being desperately thirsty, but for something that he couldn't consume. He didn't know if he could stand it even though Hermione had told him that such side effects were supposed to be temporary.
The hospital wing was very crowded when they arrived and not just with the injured. All along the walls there were bodies draped in white blankets lying side by side. Harry looked away quickly; he didn't know how many were Death Eaters and how many were their friends.
"We'll be fine now," Harry said once they had entered the large medical facility. Professor Trelawney and Madam Prince nodded quickly at Harry's assurance before beating a hasty retreat. Both of them looked very queasy.
It wasn't hard to understand why. A quick glance around the room revealed the continuing toll of the Battle of Hogwarts. Beds were jammed up one against the other, each containing someone with varying degrees of injury. Some people were so badly damaged by spells that they could barely be distinguished as human, others were missing limbs, and still others were in some degree of magically induced coma. Only silencing spells and sleeping potions prevented the room from being full of painful outcries.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Poppy exclaimed when she rushed out. Several American wizards who apparently had healing abilities were running behind her to assist in her treatments. She ran her wand across them quickly to get a diagnosis. "I've never seen such as these. Something is wrong with your magical auras…both of you."
"We took a potion that artificially enhanced our natural magic," Hermione said weakly.
Poppy waved her wand a few times while muttering to herself. "Of all the foolhardy things to do…I would have expected this of Mr. Potter, but not you," she said tartly. Harry had a feeling that she was trying to cover up her own anxiety with her usual scathing banter. "It's like your magical aura is hemorrhaging the energies that your being is trying to replenish."
"It should only be temporary," Harry replied.
"Temporary my eye," Poppy retorted. "You'll both be squibs at this rate and maybe dead too. I don't know if I can stop this or not, but its going to be painful."
"Okay-," Harry said. He cut off sharply as Poppy's spell knocked the wind out of him. A wave of pain washed over him and the next thing he knew he was being picked up off the floor.
"You blacked out for a couple of minutes Mr. Potter," Poppy was saying. "I think you two will be okay though. At the least you're not leaking magic anymore."
"I feel weaker," Hermione said. "When I reach out for my magic it feels like I'm wearing mittens that are two sizes too large."
"I don't want to hear it Miss Granger, not after the kind of stunt you just pulled," Poppy snapped in a motherly tone. "You've still got the strongest magical aura in the room so I wouldn't worry too much. Magic heals like your body heals. The only difference is that you just can't see it."
"How long until we can leave?" Harry asked wearily. He didn't intend to let this second war end like the first one had. Remaining Death Eaters needed to be pursued while they were in chaos. "Hermione and I have places we need to be."
"Soon," Poppy replied. "Just drink this you two."
Harry eyed the small wooden cup of liquid. "What is it?"
"Something to help you recover as quickly as possible," Poppy replied. Harry and Hermione both drank the potion at the same time.
Harry's head buzzed painfully as he awakened to the bright morning sunlight glaring in his face. Somewhere in the background he heard a peeping noise like that which a baby bird might make. As he opened his eyes and the room came into focus he realized that he was in the Headmaster's office.
"Ah, back with the waking I see," Dumbledore said amicably.
Harry sat up in the conjured bed and looked around until he spotted Hermione in another bed nearby. They were both still dressed in their tattered Light Bearer robes, but they had been magically cleaned. Hermione's bushy hair was flung out all across her pillow and face in the most adorable fashion that Harry had ever seen.
"What happened?" Harry asked needlessly. He already figured out that Poppy had slipped them some kind of sleeping potion.
"You both needed to rest," Dumbledore said simply. "Two people have never given so much more than should ever have been asked of them."
Harry smiled wanly but didn't disagree. He walked over to Hermione and stroked her cheek gently until the contact caused her eyes fluttered open. She sighed softly and sat up.
"I should have guessed that Madam Pomfrey would do that," she said.
"I don't suppose we were really in any shape to go after the remaining Death Eaters anyway," Harry admitted.
"But…I'm afraid that you may be both needed to do a little more still," Dumbledore said, interrupting their conversation. He sighed. "The Ministry was attacked at the same time as Hogwarts."
"How badly?" Hermione asked.
"The building itself was almost a complete loss, except for the most heavily guarded sections, or so I'm told," Dumbledore replied. "The worst part of it, though, is that…Arthur was in the middle of the attack."
"No…" Harry whispered.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said sadly. "He didn't make it. The surrounding area suggested that he fought hard for some time. The people who had gone with him on patrol were found killed in various other locations."
"Do we know who did it?" Harry asked angrily. Molly would be devastated by the loss of Arthur so soon after Ginny's death.
"No," Dumbledore replied, "However, the number of people who could defeat Arthur Weasley in single combat is not large."
"We need to go see Molly," Hermione said quietly.
"We should visit Remus, Tonks, and our American friends too," Harry added.
As they rose to leave Dumbledore held out a thin black book. "There is one other thing that you should have Harry. The dementors returned a short while ago and left this as a token of their continuing service to you. It is the location of Riddle Manner, which they can now reveal since the enchantments Voldemort used to protect it were tied to him and as such are now gone. They said that they would guard it until you came to claim it."
"Riddle Manor," Harry said hollowly. They had spent a countless amount of time searching for it over the last year. In the end that search had nearly cost them the entire war.
"We'll let the dementors keep it for now," Hermione said. "Until we recover we should stay away from it. Who knows what might be inside."
The walk down to the hospital wing was a long one. They shattered hallways from numerous duels was a constant reminder of the horror that had transpired only a few short hours ago. When they arrived Poppy came over and bustled around them authoritatively, without a hint of apology for knocking them out earlier.
"Harry!" a voice sounded from behind them as they picked their way through the crowded room.
"Remus," Harry said happily when he saw who it was. The two friends embraced each other for a moment before breaking apart.
"I had begun to think we'd never see this day, but you saved us Harry." Remus said solemnly.
Harry shook his head forcefully. "This is everyone's victory, not mine," he replied.
"From what we've gathered you're as responsible for Voldemort's defeat as anyone else here," Hermione said. Harry noticed that she had been caught up in a hug with Tonks while he had been focusing on Remus. The former auror turned werewolf looked more haggard than Remus and her right arm was in a sling.
"If you hadn't shown up when you did with the Americans," Harry said, trailing off suggestively. "I guess you managed to convince them to be our allies after all."
"Not exactly," Remus replied. "Come on, there's someone you should meet."
Remus led them through the crowded room to one of the hastily created partitions that gave each of the patients a measure of privacy. Inside was the American commander that Harry recognized as the one who had lost the lower part of her leg during the battle at some point. He had seen her being whisked away in the fuzzy moments directly after Voldemort's defeat.
"Mia Valian meet Harry Potter and Hermione Granger," Remus said proudly as they found themselves face to face with the leader of the American volunteer force.
"Its an honor to finally meet you both," Valian said.
"Likewise," Harry said respectfully, "Though I wish it were under better conditions."
Valian followed his gaze to her bandaged stump. "A leg is a small price to pay for such a victory." She replied. "Others have given much more."
"As I was saying earlier Mia and her team volunteered for this mission," Remus said.
Mia's gaze hardened. "Unfortunately, my government could not be convinced of the gravity of this situation. We didn't fight under the official banner of our nation."
"Then we are in even greater debt to you," Hermione said. "I don't even know how we could begin to repay what you and your people have done for us."
"From what Remus has told us and what I have witnessed in my short time here it is you and your Light Bearers who have done us the great favor," Valian replied. "The world doesn't realized what kind of monster was nearly released upon it."
"Hermione," Remus said after they had moved away from Valian's bed, "Is there nothing you can do for her. Something kind of limb replacement spell like Peter received?"
"We don't know how that spell functioned," Hermione said. She caught Remus' expression out of the corner of her eye and quickly amended her statement. "That doesn't mean I won't analyze Harry's memory of the graveyard again to see if we can figure it out though."
"Harry?" a timid voice came from behind them as they made their way back toward Dumbledore's office. The group turned around to discover that it was a rather tired looking Luna. "Ronald says that he removed the portkey blocking wards."
Harry nodded. "How is he and Molly doing?" he asked.
Luna looked away. "Charlie and Bill have been with her since…it happened. No one has seen the twins and Ron won't talk to me. All he will say is that the Light Bearers need him."
Harry looked at Hermione meaningfully. "Go on," Remus said. "Between Dumbledore and us we can handle things here."
Harry and Hermione nodded sadly before touching their bracelets to portkey away to Grimmauld Place.
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