A Day Returned by jardyn39

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 09/07/2006
Last Updated: 09/07/2006
Status: Completed

Voldemort was defeated only hours ago and yet Harry has been incarcerated in Azkaban. Hermione
breaks into his cell to be close to him while she tries to work out what could have happened and
whether her recollections of the Centaurs and Unspeakables are real or imagined. Was she really
there to not only witness, but also help with the demise of Voldemort after all? This is a
companion piece to The Third Day, told from Hermione’s perspective.




1. A Day Returned
-----------------


**A Day Returned**


*by Jardyn39*


**Summary**


Voldemort was defeated only hours ago and yet Harry has been incarcerated in Azkaban. Hermione
breaks into his cell to be close to him while she tries to work out what could have happened and
whether her recollections of the Centaurs and Unspeakables are real or imagined. Was she really
there to not only witness, but also help with the demise of Voldemort after all? This is a
companion piece to The Third Day, told from Hermione’s perspective.


**Introduction**


This story is set years before the events described in
The Third Day. The only advantage to reading
that story before this one is that you’ll know what will eventually become of certain minor
characters.

The remainder of this Introduction contains spoilers to The Third Day.


On the night of the Tenth Anniversary of Voldemort’s demise, Harry publicly challenged Draco
Malfoy’s version of events.


Ginny and Neville were fighting on the edge of the forest at the time and Hermione helped a
wounded Luna out of the forest. Both of them had intended to join Ron and help Harry fight
Voldemort.


It was accepted that in the end, Harry, Draco and Voldemort were alone in the Forbidden Forest.
Harry and Draco helped themselves out of the forest and Ron was the first to meet them.


Harry got Ron to lie about what he saw, allowing Draco to claim credit for Voldemort’s death.
For years, the Press printed wildly speculative accounts of what may have happened, and regularly
carried articles implying Harry was a Dark Wizard.


Harry admitted to using Hermione’s Horcrux destroying spell on himself, only it didn’t work. He
guessed the final Horcrux had transferred itself back to Voldemort.


Ron and Luna’s children knew that there were some parts of the story that Harry refused to
divulge to anyone, and he told an edited version of what happened.


The Ministry of Magic never did find Voldemort’s remains and as Harry refused to co-operate with
the official investigation, no official conclusion about what happened was ever reached.


Harry was greatly troubled over the following years and Hermione distanced herself from most of
her friends. Whilst they were eventually reconciled, Hermione has yet to admit what it was about
Harry that scared her so much.


-


*As this story begins, Voldemort was defeated only hours ago …*


-


**A Day Returned**


Hermione slowly let go the breath she was holding. Gingerly she felt behind her and found the
smooth stone seat. Backing up and not taking her eyes of the prone figure in the cot beside her,
she sat down and as quietly as possible pushed herself back until she felt the stone wall.


The seat was actually deeper than she’d anticipated and she lifted up her legs and drew them up
to herself.


The sandstone seat was surprisingly comfortable and not at all cold, although the wall at her
back was cool and a little uneven.


The metal bars immediately to her left felt very cold as her bare forearm brushed against them
and she shifted along the seat a little to get more comfortable.


Satisfied that she hadn’t been detected, she allowed herself to feel a little relieved. Her
attempts to Apparate close to Crookshanks never failed to wake the sleeping cat. She never had been
able to Apparate silently like Harry could these days.


Hermione smiled to herself, realising she was more concerned about Harry than alerting the
Azkaban guards to her presence.


As her eyes became more accustomed to the half-light, she began to see the contents of the cell
more clearly.


Opposite her was a small writing desk complete with a stone seat that looked incredibly
uncomfortable. Above the desk various papers were stuck with temporary sticking charms to the stone
wall. Presumably these papers belonged to a previous tenant.


Moonlight was streaming in through a small high level window in the wall opposite the bars. Just
in front of this wall there was a raised stone bed.


Harry was lying on a straw mattress so thin it almost looked more comfortable to sleep directly
on the stone bed.


He was lying on his back, one arm held up and folded over his eyes.


Hermione watched his regular breathing and wondered, once again, how it had happened.


Indeed, she was no longer entirely sure in her mind *what* had happened. Her memories were
so confused.


She turned and looked out through the bars. She could hear distant moans, presumably from other
prisoners, but they were quite alone.


She was determined to be more vigilant this time.


It had been a mistake to assume the guards would be too preoccupied celebrating the second, and
hopefully final, fall of Voldemort. She knew the sympathies of most of the inmates around here, so
she shouldn’t have been surprised that the guards would be even more vigilant than normal.


She even wondered how long it would be before the Dementors pleaded to return to Azkaban and the
Ministry’s employment. Hermione realised she would be quite happy for them to guard the captured
Death Eaters.


Azkaban’s current human guards had caught her last time after she’d fallen asleep. She was
sitting just outside Harry’s cell that time, keeping a vigil by his side. She had intended to keep
alert, but her reminiscing had given way to dreams.


Even so, she had almost persuaded the guards to let her stay. *Almost*.


If the prison Governor hadn’t intervened she would have been fine. The Guards had no problem
with her staying, but *he* was a personal friend of the former Head of the Auror Department of
course.


Without thinking she gave a low growl of annoyance, but then immediately silenced herself. The
guards may have been stupid enough to leave the cell unobserved again, but she shouldn’t take undue
risks.


This time, though, she was on the *inside* of the cell. At least she might hear them open
the grille gate to extract her. That might give her time to do something.


Harry shifted his legs slightly, and his pitifully thin blanket fell away.


She almost shot up and replaced it before catching herself. She ought not to risk waking
him.


Harry looked so exhausted. She supposed that dying twice and then coming back to life in the
same day would do that to a person.


*Dying twice*?


The notion seemed so absurd.


Hermione kept insisting to herself and anyone else that had been within earshot that her vigil
was for Harry. *To make sure he was alright*.


She knew she was only fooling herself really.


Hermione smiled and then found she was about to laugh out loud. She could still see Ron’s look,
the one that told her all too well she wasn’t fooling him either.


Thinking of Ron, she was about to turn her laugh into the disguise of a cough when she
remembered she was trying not to make a noise.


After a tense moment, she breathed again.


*How was it that even a sleeping Harry could make her lose concentration like this?*


She wondered how much he would remember. He seemed barely lucid, but he might have been listened
the entire time.


She blushed deeply.


“*How ridiculous*,” she thought. “*First you wait until he’s dead. Then you go to pieces
and confess your feelings before his lifeless body. Then he wakes up and wonders what all the fuss
is about*.”


Hermione allowed herself a small sigh and closed her eyes.


“What really happened?” she whispered to herself. “How could I have been there to even see? I
even remember helping the others at the very same time!”


She settled back, forcing her mind back to the beginning.


*


*Hours earlier…*


Bellatrix screamed loudly and clutched her forearm, completely distracted from the intense fight
going on around her.


Hermione collapsed, her leg having just been hit by Bellatrix’s spell.


“*No*!” screamed Bellatrix desperately. “*My Lord*!”


Hermione looked around. All of the Death Eaters were clutching their arms.


Bellatrix was the first to reclaim her composure. Anger was etched into her features as she
levelled her wand at Hermione.


Out of nowhere, Neville barged into the back of Bellatrix sending her flying. Hermione felt on
her face the flash of the green killing curse that had been intended for her. A moment later there
was another green flash and Bellatrix collapsed dead. Hermione looked up to see Neville kick her
body contemptuously to make sure she really was dead. Then he turned quickly to rejoin Ginny who
was still fighting.


Hermione got back to her feet, but found she needed to support herself against a tree standing
at the edge of the clearing.


Ahead of her she could see Luna, lying unconscious at the centre of a huddled group of younger
students.


Ginny and Neville standing and firing hexes at the now retreating Death Eaters.


A spasm of pain went down her leg and she realised she was bleeding badly. Feeling faint for a
moment, she fell backwards.


*


Hermione looked up to see Neville carefully picking his way through the bodies strewn around
them. She realised dimly that she must have passed out. She stared in disbelief at all the bodies.
The black robes made it difficult to tell Death Eaters from the student victims.


“Hermione?” he said gently. “It’s over.”


“Harry?” she asked weakly.


“We don’t know yet,” he said evenly, performing a healing spell on her leg to stop the worst of
the bleeding.


“Thanks, Neville. That feels much better. How is Luna?” asked Hermione, feeling stronger.


“I haven’t checked on her yet,” said Neville, looking back to see Ginny kneeling beside her a
few feet away.


Ginny looked up and Hermione was relieved to see her give Neville a thumbs up signal.


“Well,” said Neville, also sounding relieved, “she should be okay.”


Ginny got up and started to tend the wounded students, but still had time to give Hermione a
dark look.


Hermione pushed herself up, saying, “I need to get to Harry and Ron. They could be wounded as
well.”


“Hermione, your leg needs proper treatment. That wound will open up again if you aren’t
careful.”


She ignored him and set off at once into the Forbidden Forest.


*


Hermione followed the route she and Luna had taken escaping from the forest. They had stopped to
fight off a few Death Eaters at least twice and in the end Luna had needed to be practically
carried out.


Even so, the journey back into the forest seemed at least four times as long as before.


Still, she was glad to put a little distance between herself and Ginny. She still couldn’t quite
believe they’d had a blazing row right in the middle of the battle. Neville had tried to intervene
but withdrew as each of them took the intensity of their anger out on the attacking Death
Eaters.


Hermione checked her leg. It was bleeding again and a muscle above her knee was in spasm.


She held her wand to her knee but hesitated, trying to remember the correct incantation. It
wouldn’t come, and she suspected was down to her intense worrying about Harry and Ron.


A loud *crack* like ice breaking echoed through the forest. Hermione looked around, but
heard nothing further and she could see nothing out of the ordinary.


She stepped forward, but for a fraction of a second an intense feeling of nausea came over her
and she thought she could hear distant voices.


“*Please, Hermione! Come back and help us with the wounded! There are still Death Eaters in
the forest. We need to patch up the other students and get them to safety before they attack
again.*”


Was that Neville calling her back?


*“Alright, Neville, I’m coming. My leg has started to bleed again anyway.”*


That sounded almost like her own voice.


The feeling was gone as quickly as it came; and so too was any doubt that she had been mistaken
about Neville calling her. It couldn’t have been Neville, after all.


She pocketed her wand and pressed on, going deeper into the forest.


*


Hermione staggered into a wide clearing. Panting heavily, she was about to force herself to move
onwards when she heard something.


She almost missed him, but sitting hunched up almost within the undergrowth was Draco Malfoy.
His eyes were closed tight and he was shaking violently.


“Malfoy?”


Malfoy let out a pitiful cry and tried to cover his head with his arms. He looked utterly
petrified.


Deciding he could be left where he was, Hermione limped across to the other side of the clearing
but met another figure walking out of the shadows.


“Ron!”


Ron looked like he was in another world. His face was pale and sweaty as he looked at her
blankly.


“Ron?” she asked more gently. “Are you okay?”


“*Harry*,” he said weakly. “*Harry*.”


“Where is he?” he demanded urgently. “Is he hurt? We should get to him, Ron!”


“He’s gone, Hermione.”


“Gone where? You’re not making sense, Ron.”


“He’s dead, Hermione.”


“No,” she at once, and then Ron’s words began to hit home.


“No,” she repeated. “Where is he?”


Ron turned and pointed vaguely behind him.


Hermione ran, no longer feeling her wounded leg at all. The growing pain in her heart was
blotting out everything else.


*


Only a few yards in, she found Voldemort’s body. His face was distorted in malice, even in
death.


Harry was lying only a few feet away, half propped up against a tree. She ran towards him,
stumbling and collapsing over his legs.


“Harry,” she said, her voice tight and emotional.


She grabbed his robes and pulled herself closer. His face was covered in cuts and there was
fresh blood all over him.


Hermione grabbed his wrist and felt for a pulse.


“I’ve tried all that, Hermione,” said Ron from behind her.


Hermione ignored him and felt Harry’s neck. *Nothing*.


Ron waited so she could satisfy herself his body really was lifeless before kneeling down behind
her and wrapping his arms around her. He gently pulled her away from Harry’s body and she
collapsed.


Hermione great sobs echoed through the forest.


“I never said,” she said at last, her voice barely a whisper. “I never told him.”


“He knew,” said Ron, but she wasn’t hearing him.


“All this time. Even last night, I wanted to say something. There was me, prattling on about
nothing when all the time he knew he was about to come out here.”


“It’s okay, Hermione.”


“He seemed even more withdrawn than usual. I should have known!”


“He didn’t want you to have time to worry, Hermione.”


“I should have stayed!”


“No, he would have wanted Luna to be helped. Um, how is she?” he asked uncertainly.


Hermione wasn’t listening. She pulled herself away and crawled back over to Harry’s body. She
found his bloody hand and clasped it to herself.


“I’m sorry, Harry. I wanted to tell you. I know you wanted to distance yourself. You never spoke
of it, but I think you always knew this might happen.”


“Hermione,” said Ron, “You need to get that leg seen to.”


“Harry, I love you. Please don’t go? Come back!”


Ron stooped down and began to prise Hermione’s hands away.


“No! I’m staying with him!”


She desperately tried to fight off Ron’s attempts to part her from Harry.


“Hermione, do you think this is what Harry would have wanted? I think he would want you to get
yourself treated. There will be plenty of time to grieve later.”


There was no strength at all in her grasp. She willed herself never to let go, but her grief was
hitting her in waves. It seemed nothing was possible any more, not even hanging onto his hands.


Ron lifted Hermione up and guided her away few feet.


His heart was almost bursting, but he needed to get Hermione away and find out what had happened
to Luna. He wanted to take one last look back at his best friend, but he couldn’t.


Ron wondered if Hermione had heard the loud *crack* earlier, but he knew she wasn’t
listening properly yet.


Then they heard it.


From behind them came a low gasp.


Ron dropped Hermione and spun around, wand in hand. Harry was taking breaths in great lungfulls.
Hermione scrambled over to Harry’s side and Ron stumbled over.


“Harry!”


Harry held up his hand to silence them.


“No, please listen,” he begged weakly.


“Harry! You’re going to be alright! We thought you’d gone!” shouted Hermione, tears still
flowing down her face and laughing madly.


“It isn’t over,” said Harry, and a cold shiver went down Ron’s spine.


Harry reached out to Hermione and she grabbed his hand.


“You’re so cold, Harry!”


“Hermione, please listen to me. Voldemort’s body is finished, but he’s just reverted to his
non-corporeal state. You must transfigure his body and then destroy it. The Ministry mustn’t be
allowed to have it. Do it before you leave here, but get back and help the others, will you?”


“He can still possess people?” asked Ron.


“I don’t think he’s strong enough yet, but he will be unless I can stop him,” said Harry, as
more blood flowed from under his hairline.


Hermione seemed to become agitated.


“Harry, I can’t feel your pulse.”


Harry smiled at her and said, “I’m sorry Hermione. I’ll have to go in a minute or he’ll get away
again.”


Harry’s head fell back and he appeared to grow limp.


Harry gave half a laugh and said weakly, “I hadn’t intended to come back at all, you know? Then
I heard your voice, Hermione.”


Hermione was shaking her head now, looking quite stricken.


“Don’t go, Harry. *Please*.”


“Don’t worry about me. Voldemort has no chance now. He’s the one afraid of death, not me.”


“No!”


“Promise me you’ll live, Hermione? Life is too precious to have regrets. You have meant so much
to me, both of you.”


“Harry, I love you!” cried Hermione in an anguished cry.


Hermione looked up, but his open eyes were glassy and still. He was gone.


*


“Let them pass!” ordered Minister Scrimgeour from behind them. The five of them had been
prevented from returning to the clearing by several of the many Aurors now guarding the area. It
was less than an hour after Ron had taken Hermione back out of the forest.


Scrimgeour shoved the Auror aside and limped further into the forest, looking furious.


“Where the hell were all you Aurors when there was fighting to be done?” he demanded loudly.
“Those school kids out there disabled more Death Eaters that you managed all together!”


Hermione was the first to enter the clearing.


“Where’s his body?” she asked in alarm, seeing the tree where Harry had been propped
against.


Ron looked around and saw a small group of senior Ministry officials talking together
quietly.


“Well?” demanded Scrimgeour.


“His body has been removed along with the others,” said one of the officials.


“By whose authority, Parsons?” asked Scrimgeour.


“Mine,” replied Parsons coolly. “As Head of the Auror Department I have determined that Potter’s
remains represent an ongoing hazard and will be disposed of.”


“That’s outrageous!” cried Hermione. “Where is he?”


“That need not concern you,” Parsons replied coldly, but found four wands being pointed right at
him.


His colleagues seemed unsure what to do.


“You’ll hand him over now,” said Ron threateningly. “Frankly, I’ve had enough of killing today,
but one more won’t make a difference.”


Browne, one of the senior Aurors stepped between them.


“Mr Parsons thinks there is evidence that the body may still be steeped in dark magic.”


“Rubbish,” said Ron at once.


“We can’t find *You-Know-Who’s* body either,” Browne continued.


“Harry took care of him,” replied Ron unhesitatingly. “Don’t worry, he’s dead alright.”


“But his body?”


“Harry planned to dispose of Voldemort’s body himself,” said Hermione carefully, knowing she
still carried the inert deformed black bone in her pocket. The five of them would destroy it later
when they were alone.


“What’s this rubbish about dark magic?” asked Scrimgeour.


“You’ll see for yourself in a moment,” said Browne, consulting his gold pocket watch.


There was a flash and Hermione gasped as a simple wooden coffin lay next to the tree where Harry
had died.


“His body keeps coming back here for some reason.”


Hermione went over and knelt down by the coffin.


“This is ridiculous,” said Parsons. “We’d better do it here then. Browne, order your men to
gather firewood. We’ll cremate the body here in the forest.”


“What?” said Neville.


“No,” said Hermione. “We’ll bury him on Hogwarts grounds. That was his real home.”


“That’s not for you to say, young lady. Potter had no family, so the Ministry will decide on the
arrangements.”


“I’m not about to authorise that,” said Scrimgeour. “Harry should be given over to the care of
his friends.”


“That really isn’t something you can concern yourself with. You were appointed *acting*
Minister for the duration of the crisis. Since that crisis is clearly over, so is your tenure of
office.”


“I’m still Minister, Parsons.”


“We’ll let the Wizengamot decide, but in the meantime I’m assuming responsibility.”


Scrimgeour looked too livid to talk.


“Why would you want to cremate him anyway?” asked Luna. “I’m surprised you haven’t just
transfigured his remains.”


Browne gave an embarrassed smile and said, “We’ve already tried that. Twice. The wands just
catch fire. We’ve destroyed three so far.”


“This isn’t *dark magic*,” said Hermione. “It just means Harry hasn’t finished yet.”


“Nonsense,” said Parsons.


Hermione tapped the lid of the coffin with her wand and it flew off.


“Stop that!”


Scrimgeour stepped forward and held his wand at Parson’s throat.


“Listen to me *very* carefully. You and your lapdogs will leave the forest *now*.
We’ll stay with his body and make the funeral arrangements when we feel it is time.”


“You are finished, Scrimgeour.”


“Maybe, but unless you agree, you’ll be *dead*.”


Parsons grimaced, perhaps knowing full well that Scrimgeour would do it.


“I didn’t want to be Minister in the first place, but while I am I’m going to use my office to
do the best I can. For your information, Parsons, even an outgoing Minister’s word is
*law*.”


Scrimgeour turned to face the Aurors.


“Browne, I’m appointing you the new Head of the Auror Department. At least you still know the
difference between right and wrong. Try to remember where your duty is due when this back-stabbing
slime bribes and bullies his way into office.”


Browne looked on shocked, but then came to himself.


He turned to one of his colleagues and said, “Pull everyone we have out of the forest and the
school. Organise patrols of the perimeter though. I don’t want any reporters or public allowed in
here. When word gets out we can expect to become under siege.”


Parsons looked on helplessly as the Aurors fell back.


Browne went over and took his arm.


“Allow me to escort you out of the forest, Mr Parsons. I imagine you’ll want to get back to
London to speak to the Press.”


*


“Thank you, Minister,” said Hermione once the others had gone. “I hope this won’t cost you your
job.”


“My job was finished the moment Parsons learned Voldemort was dead,” replied Scrimgeour. “He’s
been waiting for months to pounce.”


“Why’s he so scared?” asked Ron.


“Well, firstly he wants control of Harry’s memory in the public perception. He’s far more
valuable politically dead than alive. He was always and awkward so and so,” Scrimgeour added
fondly.


Neville nodded sadly while Ginny sobbed quietly in his arms.


“The other thing obviously concerns the behaviour of his remains.”


“Have you ever heard of anything like this?” asked Hermione.


“This has nothing to do with dark magic. The closest was Dumbledore, but there are records in
the past of powerful wizards and witches controlling what happens to their remains. Dumbledore’s
white tomb wasn’t conjured on its own. I imagine Harry here will do something similar when he’s
ready.”


“It might take a few days then?” asked Ron.


“Yes,” said Scrimgeour sadly. “How about we make a small camp to keep comfortable? I imagine
people will want to come from the school and pay their respects too.”


*


They erected a couple of tents and started a small campfire. Scrimgeour had offered to conjure a
canopy over the coffin, but Hermione wanted Harry to lie in the open under the stars.


She stayed beside the open coffin while the others worked quietly around them.


Her tears were mostly gone now, but the appearance of the distraught Hagrid brought them all to
tears again. His anguished howls could he heard all over the forest.


Sometime during the night, Ron woke to find four Centaurs standing around the coffin. Hermione
was awake, but ignoring them.


Ron got up and went over, curious to understand why they were all looking up at the night
sky.


“I do not understand,” said one.


“Could the telling have been wrong?”


“No, I think the Mars conjunction just hasn’t happened yet.”


“But he’s *dead*. It was foretold his sacrifice would be at the alignment!”


“Some things are beyond even our understanding. Perhaps we misread the signs.”


“Perhaps.”


They left without another word and Ron went up to Hermione’s side.


“He actually looks quite peaceful now,” Ron observed.


Hermione nodded and continued to needlessly clean the blood off his face and hands, even though
she had completed this hours ago.


“He knew, Hermione,” he said gently.


She blinked back tears and shrugged.


“He would have wanted us to carry on without him. He did it for *us*.”


Hermione sniffed and nodded.


“Come over to the fire and have something to eat,” he suggested. “Just for a few minutes.”


She nodded and Ron helped her up and over to the dwindling embers of the campfire.


A flash of white light lit up the surrounding trees and they could see their magnified
silhouettes set against the canopy.


Hermione turned and ran back to the coffin.


“Where’s he gone?” asked Ron in astonishment.


Scrimgeour lit his wand and scanned the tree-line. Hermione gasped when his beam momentarily hit
the outline of a lone figure.


They heard a few indistinct words.


“Oh, no,” breathed Hermione. “Not that.”


The figure turned and ran deeper into the forest.


“I’m going after him!” shouted Hermione giving chase.


“Me too,” cried Ron, running off in hot pursuit. “You lot get back to the school and warn them,”
he shouted over his shoulder. “Be careful what you say to those Aurors, though. This may not be
what it looks like!”


*


“What’s going on?” asked Ginny.


“I don’t know,” said Neville. “They reacted like there was someone in the forest. Could they
have taken Harry?”


“We’ve no chance of catching them up now,” said Scrimgeour. “Let’s go back to the school.”


“I’m not sure about that,” said Ginny. “His body will probably reappear here.”


“What *may not be what it looks like*?”


“No idea.”


“You okay Luna?”


“Um,” was all she said. Neville caught her as she collapsed, clutching her side.


“That settles it,” said Scrimgeour. “She needs to see Madam Pomfrey.”


*


Hermione ran as fast as she could, not daring to take her eyes of the figure darting deeper into
the forest.


For a while she could hear Ron crashing his way through the undergrowth behind her, but now all
she could hear were her own desperate breaths for air.


The figure had been hunched a little, but she was sure it was Harry. Except, she knew, it
probably wasn’t him.


Hermione just couldn’t be sure if the glimpse of those red eyes was real or imagined.


She shook her head, determined not to let her fear overcome her.


In that instant she lost him from her sight and hesitated. She tripped and was sent flying.


Hermione screamed in pain as her leg wound was torn open and she landed awkwardly against the
base of a tree.


Panting and crying with pain, she looked around for Ron and the other figure. There was no-one
she could see or hear.


Her leg was in a terrible state. It must have been bleeding all the time she was running,
judging from the condition of the dressings.


She rolled over and tried to straighten the leg but a spasm of intense pain hit her.


It took Hermione a few seconds to recover, but as the pain subsided, she considered what to do
now. If she called for help or sent sparks up, the wrong person might turn up. She was sure
escaping Death Eaters had to still be in the forest.


Then she heard the sound of something coming towards her from behind.


The figure walked around the tree and stood in front of her, grinning down at her.


At first her heart leaped and she uttered, “*Harry*!” before she could stop herself.


Harry chuckled softly and then brought up both arms. Looking up and breathing deeply, he said,
“I’ve never felt like this!”


“Like what, Harry?”


“I feel so *alive*!”


“How do you mean?”


“No more pain,” he said in wonder. “And I can feel and smell and taste the air!”


He slowly looked back down to her, smiling widely.


“But that’s not the best thing,” he said softly.


“No?”


“The best thing is the *power*. He’s gone! I had no idea he was restricting me so
much.”


“There’ll be other things too, now,” said Hermione tearfully.


“Indeed?”


“Sure. When was the last time you had hair, for instance?”


Harry brought his hand up to feel his scalp and then laughed maniacally.


“So, Mudblood. Thought you’d destroy Lord Voldemort’s body, eh? Well, it worked out rather
better than I’d hoped,” he said, running his hands down his chest.


“The body I created had a number of drawbacks. My senses were dulled to the point that they were
almost non-existent. All I had was my *willpower* to survive and the certain knowledge that I
was the greatest wizard of all time!”


Hermione snorted.


“Hardly! Harry was more than a match for you.”


Voldemort spread his newly possessed arms out and said, “I think the evidence speaks for
itself.”


“Won’t you have a little difficulty persuading your Death Eaters to follow Harry Potter?”


“Lord Voldemort does not persuade. They will follow me or *die*.”


“Call them to you, then,” challenged Hermione.


Voldemort smiled and said, “All in good time.”


“Time is the one thing you don’t have.”


“Really?”


“You couldn’t remain for very long in Harry’s body before, could you?”


“That was somewhat different. Potter is no longer in here with me.”


“Exactly,” said Hermione, pushing herself to her feet. “Harry *knew* you’d do this. You are
so afraid of death you’d do anything to live. He *knew* you’d have no choice but to return to
his body. He *knew* you could never survive like you did before.”


“Foolish girl! Lord Voldemort knows you have no stomach to kill. You loved him too much for
that.”


“I did love him,” she admitted shakily. “I loved *Harry*, not the thing standing before
me.”


“Enough of such nonsense. You have brains girl, I’ll give you that, but it is time to consider
the future. Potter had his time; his time is over and he *failed*. The war is finally lost.
Help me take power, and I’ll reward you beyond your dreams. You can protect those closest to you;
they need never fear again. I’ll even retain Potter’s name and he can become the hero you always
wanted him to be.”


A tear fell down Hermione’s cheek.


“Think carefully now. Lord Voldemort does not repeat such offers.”


“You’ll never fool anyone talking like that. No-one could believe you were Harry.”


“I could with *your* help.”


“True,” she said, wiping her face and straightening up. “You know, Harry said he wanted me to
live on without regrets.”


“Good, girl,” he said slowly. “Good.”


“You’ll have to fix your eyes, though.”


“My eyes?”


“Yes. Harry’s eyes were intensely green, weren’t they? You need just a little more colour.”


“Colour?”


Voldemort froze, his expression fixed showing his dawning comprehension at what she was about to
do.


“*Avada Kadavra*!”


A green flash erupted from her wand and enveloped him.


Voldemort fell backwards, quite dead.


Hermione looked up and screamed up into the sky before bursting into tears.


There was an intense white flash and the body vanished again.


*


“Hermione!” shouted Ron. “Where are you?!”


He was now completely lost. All he knew was that he was now very deep into the Forbidden
Forest.


The only good thing was that dawn was approaching and it was gradually becoming lighter.


Ron stopped again and tried to concentrate.


He supposed it was due to his mindset, but he’d been completely unable to Disapparate out of the
forest.


Then he heard something and spun around.


“Hermione!”


Ron ran over at once. Hermione was riding on the back of a young Centaur. Another Centaur was
supporting her as she looked barely conscious.


“Greetings, Human,” said the lead Centaur.


“Um. Hi,” replied Ron.


“Firenze sends his greetings. He asked us to return your friend to you.”


“Thanks,” said Ron.


“It would perhaps be better if we carried her a little further. She was very distressed when we
found her.”


“Do you know what happened?”


“Firenze suspects what may have happened. He has asked us to bear witness, but this female has
not told us what happened. We are taking her back to the clearing where Harry Potter’s body was
resting.”


“It vanished,” said Ron.


“Firenze believes he may have returned, human.”


Ron walked on the other side of the Centaur and helped support Hermione.


“I killed him, Ron,” she said in a tiny voice.


“Try and keep calm, Hermione. Let’s get you back to safety first.”


*


Ron began to recognise the area of the forest they were walking through. Then he spotted the
tents they had conjured the night before through the trees.


Hermione’s head shot up and she jumped down from the Centaur’s back.


Shouting, “No! Leave him alone!” she ran out into the clearing and collapsed beside Harry’s
body.


Ron and the Centaurs hurried to follow her.


The emerged to find two wizards Ron did not recognise standing before Hermione.


“Firenze said you would be here,” said one of the Centaurs. “He sent us to bear witness.”


“What’s going on?” demanded Ron.


“Did Firenze give an opinion?” asked one of the wizards, ignoring Ron.


“He said that the planets travel at their own speed and are rarely hurried.”


“He has until dawn,” said the other wizard seriously. “No more.”


The second Centaur reared up and made to lunge forward, but the first Centaur held him back.


“Human, you have far too great an opinion of yourself.”


“The risk is too great!” shouted the wizard angrily, moving forward to get at the Centaur and
accidentally shoving Hermione.


Ron blasted him so hard he handed several feet outside the clearing.


He turned his wand on the remaining wizard and said, “Do I have your attention now?”


The wizard just rolled his eyes and immediately stooped down to help Hermione.


“We are Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries. We are supposed to oversee the, um, last
rites of that young man.”


“He keeps vanishing and coming back here.”


“Indeed. We know a spell that will finally lay his body to rest. Traditionally, we would wait
and let nature take its course. Our friends the Centaurs here clearly suspect we’d prefer to
perform the necessary rites sooner rather than later.”


“Why can’t we wait?” asked Ron, hearing the other wizard swearing loudly as he extricated
himself from the tree branches.


“He was possessed by Voldemort more than once during his lifetime. There is a very real risk the
Dark Lord may rise again through his remains.”


“Voldemort is dead,” said Hermione, who hadn’t taken her eyes off Harry’s face. “I killed him
with an *Unforgivable Curse* when he was possessing Harry’s body.”


The Unspeakable frowned and looked over to the Centaurs. They were both staring up into the
sky.


The second Unspeakable stormed back into the clearing looking furious.


Ron casually levelled his wand at him, but the other Unspeakable stepped between them.


“This really isn’t helping, you know? I think we should wait just so long as everyone here is
prepared to hold vigil too. If we do this, the circle will need to be protected.”


The Centaurs both held their bows up and said together, “By our honour!”


“Good. Henry, how about you?”


“Yes, okay.”


“Mr Weasley?”


“Um, sure. I’m for waiting, I suppose.”


“That’s settled then. How about some tea? We should have time before dawn.”


“Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but what is all this about?” asked Ron.


The Unspeakable smiled and said, “Let us set up the circle first. We’ll have some time to talk
then.”


*


Ron watched in wonder as the two Unspeakables marked out a wide circle around the clearing while
the two Centaurs cantered around, bows at the ready as if they expected to find themselves under
attack at any moment. Hermione remained beside Harry’s body.


The circle was formed with a fine dust from two large cloth bags.


The Unspeakables paused before finally closing the circle. Nodding to each other, they poured
down more dust to close the circle.


Instantly small white and gold sparks began travelling slowly around the circle in an
anti-clockwise direction.


One of the Unspeakables uttered an incantation in a language Ron could not understand.


The sparks quivered and then began to slowly rotate in the opposite direction.


A wave of nausea hit Ron.


One of the Unspeakables came over and said, “It takes a little getting used to. Come and sit in
the centre. The effect is reduced there.”


Ron sat down next to Harry and Hermione while the others continued to circle around them.


“My name is Ignatius Williams and my colleague is Baraccus Hargreaves.”


Ron nodded.


“My name is Tallus,” said the first Centaur as he continued to walk around the inside of the
circle, “and this is my brother Centaur Pardus.”


Again Ron nodded.


“I know your father,” said Hargreaves with his back to Ron as he patrolled around the
circle.


Ron reached out over Harry’s chest and placed a comforting hand over Hermione’s own hand.


“I’d like to know what is going on,” said Ron. “What is this circle?”


“The circle is simply a demarcation line,” said Williams “The dust we used to set the circle out
was ground down from the bricks and mortar of the Potter’s house in Godric’s Hollow. Four
sack-fulls were created the night the house was destroyed and all the masonry was selected as being
the closest to where the Dark Lord performed the magic that backfired on him.”


“Why?”


Hermione looked up and said, “*Four* sacks?”


Williams smiled down at her.


“Yes,” said Hargreaves. “Two of our predecessors used the first two sacks when Harry was a
baby.”


“The dust was enriched, both with a memory of Voldemort’s terrible crime but also the protective
defence that Harry enjoyed,” continued Williams.


“At the time it happened, Dumbledore was convinced that Voldemort was not truly dead and that it
was only a matter of time before he discovered a way to return to a corporeal state. He convinced
the Unspeakables to add a little something to the protections Dumbledore himself gave the child and
his Muggle relatives.”


Hargreaves chuckled and said, “Add?”


Williams smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s true. You see, they didn’t so much
*add* something, as take something *away*.”


“I don’t get it,” said Ron.


“You see, Harry’s parents were murdered on the night of 31 October, but Harry wasn’t delivered
by Hagrid to his Muggle relatives until twenty-four hours later.”


“What happened during that day?”


“As far as Harry is concerned, absolutely nothing. He wasn’t delivered a day later. He was taken
the very night of his parent’s murder. His scar was freshly cut that very night.”


“That makes no sense,” said Ron.


“Unless you took *time* from Harry,” finished Hermione.


“That’s exactly what they did. Harry Potter lost a complete day from his life. He was young
enough not to notice, of course.”


“But why?” asked Hermione.


“So he could have that day back one day,” said Hargreaves with a grin.


Hermione jumped to her feet and said, “Say that again.”


Williams came over and gently took her arm.


“You must allow me to guide you,” he advised. “You’ll feel quite disorientated when you get
closer to the perimeter, but you’ll be able to watch what is happening. On no account may you touch
or cross the circle. That would be fatal for all of us.”


Ron watched as Hermione was led slowly over to the perimeter.


“Gosh!” she exclaimed, but Ron couldn’t see anything happening at all.


Hargreaves extended a hand and said, “Come on, I’ll guide you.”


Ron allowed Hargreaves to guide him over to stand beside Hermione. Fighting his increasing
nausea, Ron couldn’t believe what he was seeing.


The scene outside looked like a video on fast rewind. Staff members were speeding towards the
circle, pausing momentarily to look quizzically at them and then shooting off again.


“We are travelling backwards in time. The effect begins slowly but speeds up later.”


“But why?” asked Hermione. “I mean, we are taking Harry’s body back with us. He’ll still be
dead.”


The two Unspeakables guided Hermione and Ron back to the centre before answering.


“Okay,” said Hermione. “You are returning the day Harry lost. I understand that. What I don’t
get is how that can benefit him. He’ll still be dead.”


“Was death something he feared?”


“No, absolutely not.”


“But did he care about the manner his death.”


“Yes. He wanted to die well,” answered Ron. “I mean, he wanted his life to mean something.”


“Is this to give him a chance to return as a ghost?” asked Hermione.


Williams considered carefully before answering.


“I don’t think so, but then I didn’t know him personally. I’d prefer to keep an open mind for
now.”


“Alright, so would Harry not be able to rest in peace without returning this day he’s owed?”


“I cannot answer with any certainty, but I suspect that may be true.”


“Harry’s body kept vanishing and turning up again. Does that have something to do with all
this?”


“Definitely,” said Williams with a grin.


“What are you not telling us?”


“More to the point,” said Hermione. “What about *our* day? Ron and I are going back in time
too now!”


“We took a day from Harry, but not from you. It is quite impossible to give you that day.”


“So, what will happen to us?”


“Exactly that same as will happen to the four of us,” said Williams gently. “There is nothing to
fear. Your are perfectly safe and your lives will continue.”


“What will be different?”


“We do not know yet. We are here to bear witness, that is all.”


“Couldn’t you have told us this *before*?”


“Not really. You both witnessed things that must be forgotten.”


“Night is falling!” cried Tallus as both Centaurs cantered around the circle.


They all looked up and watched as stars began to appear.


“Look!” shouted Pardus, pointing skywards. “The planets are coming into alignment. How is this
possible, Tallus? We watched the identical sky, remember?”


“The Potter boy’s missing day has made the difference,” answered Tallus.


Two shooting stars streaked across the sky and then suddenly slowed.


“Time is becoming equalised,” advised Williams. “The difference will be slower from now
onwards.”


Golden flames shot up from the dust and the circle vanished.


“His body has gone!” cried Hermione. Harry had vanished again.


“Come,” said Tallus. “We must not be seen.”


The six of them hurried out of the clearing which had not yet had a camp created.


“What time is this?” asked Hermione.


“We cannot be certain,” said Williams. “Please remember, we are here to bear witness. Potter
will die tonight. We must not interfere.”


“Look!” cried Ron, pointing through the trees.


They watched in amazement as a few yards away, Hermione dragged Luna behind a fallen tree trunk
and began to fight off a dozen or so masked Death Eaters.


Tallus held Ron back, saying, “Remember, human, you *know* they will survive. We must not
interfere.”


“Hang on,” said Hermione slowly. “Harry must still be alive right now, mustn’t he?”


“We don’t know when he actually died, Hermione,” said Ron sadly.


*


The group watched as Ron fought furiously, stubbornly making sure he had despatched all of his
attackers before finally falling unconscious from the spells that had hit him. The firefight had
been extraordinary, with at least twenty firing relentlessly at him at one point.


“Oh, Ron,” breathed Hermione. “I had no idea I left you to face so many of them.”


“No,” insisted Ron modestly. “You had to get Luna to safety and it wasn’t as bad as it
looked.”


“Do you know how long you were out for?”


“Not really. I think it was a few minutes.”


An unnaturally high laugh filled the air sending cold shivers down Hermione’s back. They all
looked in the direction the noise had come from but they could see only trees.


Tallus ran forward, shouting, “Come! If we hurry we may yet see!”


They ran up the slight incline and the hurried onwards towards the clearing. Once there,
Hermione had a clear view of Voldemort and Harry. They were standing facing each other under the
canopy of the trees on the far side of the clearing.


They were not quite standing where their bodies had been found, but neither was far off.


Voldemort was still laughing but Harry was just standing there, looking utterly perplexed. They
knew Harry planned to destroy the final Horcrux within him by using Hermione’s spell upon himself.
They had suspected he would be wounded at the very least, but Voldemort would be mortal and
vulnerable.


It looked like Harry had cast the spell but nothing had happened.


Hermione ran towards them at full pelt. Ron tried to grab her but caught only air.


“We have to help him, Ron!”


Harry was still frowning down at his wand when Voldemort raised his own wand once more. It
seemed obvious that Voldemort was about to kill Harry without even waiting for him to look up.


Hermione launched herself at Harry, intending to push him away from danger except she met no
resistance and flew right through him. Thankfully she landed on some soft ground and rolled over
without hurting herself.


Pardus got to her first and helped her up.


“We are here to bear witness,” he reminded her.


“Harry!” shouted Hermione. “Look out!”


It then dawned upon her that neither Voldemort nor Harry could hear nor see any of them.


“What can we do?” asked Hermione with more than a hint of desperation in her voice. The six
witnesses had formed a wide circle around them now.


“We cannot interact with them in this plane,” said Williams.


“So, I’ve got to actually see him die?” retorted Hermione angrily.


“Perhaps. We won’t know until we see for ourselves,” said Hargreaves absently, now studying
Voldemort intently.


“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Ron. “Why can’t we touch them? Are we ghosts?”


There was a loud crack and everyone, including Harry and Voldemort looked up.


“Come out here!” demanded Voldemort.


Slowly, Draco Malfoy emerged from the shadows. He was shaking violently and looked quite
dishevelled.


“Let him go,” said Harry. “This is between you and me.”


Voldemort spun around, and evil grin playing across his face.


“You know what he did in the service of Lord Voldemort, and yet you want him spared?”


“Justice will catch up with him one of these days,” said Harry.


“Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort is less forgiving. Young Malfoy disobeyed my orders.”


“I brought him here, didn’t I?” retorted Malfoy, quite unable to disguise the terror in his
voice.


“*Idiot*! Potter *planned* for you to bring him to me.”


Voldemort flicked his wand and Malfoy collapsed in agony.


“As I was saying,” continued Voldemort, still glaring maliciously down at Malfoy, “young Malfoy
disobeyed me. I ordered him to kidnap one of your friends, Harry.”


“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Harry. “They’ll be along shortly to finish you off.”


“Really?”


“You should be worried, you know. We’ve destroyed six of your Horcruxes. Only one to go and then
you’ll be mortal again.”


“*Dumbledore*!”


“Yes, he put me onto the right track. Tell me, where did you intend to put the seventh
Horcrux?”


“Oh, Harry. Be careful!” said Hermione, although he couldn’t hear her warnings.


“I hadn’t planned to create one at all just then, as I suspect you have surmised. No, I intended
to create my seventh and final Horcrux with the death of the Minister of Magic or perhaps even
Dumbledore himself. Your mother put paid to that ambition.


“I was literally ripped out of my body when my attack on you failed. Your mother tricked me into
making a binding magical contract with her. She gave her life for yours, so when I tried to kill
you, the hex rebounded and hit me.


“Thanks to my foresight in safety depositing my soul into the Horcruxes, the hex was unable to
kill me. My body was gone, but my mind remained.”


“Have you managed to work out why the seventh Horcrux was created?” asked Harry. “I mean, you
must have been trying desperately to hang onto it at the time.”


“What do you mean?” asked Voldemort.


“Well, the last Horcrux was deposited in me to give me protection.”


Hermione frowned. They hadn’t discussed this possibility with Harry at all.


“Nonsense!”


“Think about it. The rebounded hex should have killed you in body and spirit. The binding
magical contract you broke demanded your death. Nothing else would do. So I had to be protected
until you finally paid the price.”


Voldemort laughed and said, “You believe Lord Voldemort has been protecting you?”


Harry smiled back at him and said, “This is magic at its deepest. It wasn’t a true Horcrux, of
course. You need to kill to create one of those and I didn’t die, did I?.”


“Fool! You are not protected!”


“You’re not listening.”


“Lord Voldemort is tired of listening to such ravings.”


“Well, alright, let’s call it a Horcrux then,” continued Harry unabashed. “I think for a long
time you believed the seventh Horcrux was destroyed that night.”


Voldemort didn’t answer.


“So, when did you realise?”


“That night you prevented me from obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone, of course.”


Harry nodded.


“I thought as much. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was that Dumbledore didn’t tell me of
his suspicions. I think he knew all along.”


“He should have killed you then, shouldn’t he?”


“You should give Dumbledore more credit than that.”


“Why? I am the greatest Wizard of all time.”


“And so modest too,” quipped Harry.


“Mock me at your peril, boy. Was it not I who used your blood when I created this body? I knew
that your blood would give me one more protection.”


“How do you work that out?”


“It effectively released me from the binding magical contract, of course. I can kill you but
your blood will live on through me.”


“What about the seventh Horcrux?”


“That isn’t there any more, as you have just ably demonstrated; or did you believe me foolish
enough not to know a spell to destroy Horcruxes?”


“Are you sure about that? I saw through your mind for almost a year after the night of the Tri
Wizard Cup.”


Voldemort frowned.


“See, not that straightforward, is it?”


“But, the Horcrux isn’t within you now,” said Voldemort.


“Your seventh Horcrux is not inside me *now*,” Harry repeated patiently.


“So? Are you suggesting that part of you-?”


“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Harry replied, pointing up to his forehead. “I was ripped
apart too. You survived only because you stole the Horcrux you created from me as a baby. I only
survived thanks to *your* protection.”


“So, what was that spell you aimed at yourself, then?”


“There were two spells, actually. The first was to destroy a Horcrux, just in case it was still
there. That one didn’t do a thing, obviously.


“The second was simply to activate the poison I’ve been taking for the last few days.”


“Poison?”


“Can’t you feel it beginning to take effect? I can. I may have to fall over in a moment.”


Voldemort suddenly clutched his chest and screamed.


“What you can feel,” said Harry, looking a little light headed now, “is a bit of me dying.”


Harry fell to his knees and Hermione screamed.


“Harry! What have you done?!”


Voldemort stooped and collapsed to one knee.


“*Impossible*!” he snarled.


Harry was clearly struggling to stay upright now. His face was pale and sweaty as he loosened
his fingers and allowed his wand to fall to the ground.


Voldemort was gasping now, looking around desperately for a final escape.


Finally, they both fell backwards.


“*Harry*!” cried Hermione.


The moment they hit the ground there was a bright flash of white light.


Harry jumped up at once and stepped away from his body. He looked down at his translucent hands
and muttered, “So this is what it’s like to be a ghost.”


Voldemort stirred too as Harry scooped up his wand.


“What’s going on?” demanded Ron.


“They have moved from the corporeal plane,” said Tallus. “The flash was the moment Potter’s
trapped soul or essence returned to him from Voldemort. His soul is now whole again.”


“Are they ghosts?”


“No,” replied Williams at once. “We need to be ready. It will happen soon.”


“What?” asked Ron but Tallus just nodded to Williams in agreement.


Voldemort got to his feet and looked down at his own lifeless body.


Hermione looked at him closely. Only his face and wand arm were clearly defined, although he
appeared to be in the form of his original body rather than the one he created for himself. The
rest of him was like a shimmering black shadow.


“Why isn’t he like Harry?” asked Hermione.


“We’re looking at their souls. Voldemort has already lost six sevenths of his. I’m surprised
he’s as clear as this, actually.”


Harry coughed politely and said, “Well, now that we’ve evened things up, shall we continue?”


Voldemort snarled back at him.


“What have you done?”


“Obviously, I’ve killed us both. I see my task now as just making sure you don’t possess anyone
else.”


Voldemort screamed and charged forward, sending Harry flying. He then raised his wand and fired
a bright green curse at Harry before floating off into the dark forest.


“What can we do?” demanded Hermione, now sounding quite distraught.


Harry got to his feet again and sighed.


“Oh, well,” he said to himself. “At least the Unforgivable Curses aren’t fatal here.”


There was a distant shout and Voldemort flew back to his body, his shimmering outline appearing
to be kicking out as if he was trying to resist.


“I don’t think we are free to go just *anywhere*,” advised Harry.


Voldemort got up and studied his own body. He then began uttering incantations and tried to
revive himself with hands that passed right through solid flesh.


“Thinking about re-possessing yourself?” asked Harry. “I don’t think that will work.”


Voldemort looked around, having apparently reached the same conclusion. Then he got up and did
the same thing over Harry’s body.


“Hey! That’s mine,” objected Harry.


Another bright green killing curse hit Harry.


“Temper!”


Voldemort stormed off again and Harry wiped his face. He looked weaker now, and it looked to
Hermione like the curses were having an effect even if he couldn’t be killed.


“Now?” asked Hargreaves.


“No,” answered Williams.


“Just what are you waiting for?” asked Hermione.


“We have to return his day to him.”


“So, why not return it now?”


“Voldemort is still loose.”


“Harry has to finish him off first?”


“Yes. Voldemort could still possess someone and return.”


“But, he’s getting weaker!”


“Come on, Harry,” said Ron encouragingly. “Hurry up and kill the nutter!”


“Neither of them are alive, Ron,” Hermione reminded him.


“You know what I mean.”


There was a flash of white light and Harry’s body moved.


“What happened then?”


“There was a jump in time,” said Williams. “I think it must have been when he returned to his
body.”


“*The fool*!” muttered Hargreaves. “*That’s* how Voldemort found out how to possess
his body.”


“I don’t think he could help himself,” said Williams.


Harry staggered out into the small clearing where the witnesses were gathered. He looked
dishevelled and weak. Worse, his outline was beginning to lose definition like Voldemort.


They turned hearing a cold mirthless chuckle.


Voldemort emerged, looking if anything much clearer than before.


“Accept it boy,” said Voldemort. “You have no hope of surviving now.”


Harry responded with a hex that drew a shrill cry of pain from Voldemort who immediately
retaliated with a hex of his own. Harry was thrown backwards and took a moment before getting back
up.


He hadn’t cried out once, but Hermione was sure the hexes were hurting him just has much as
Voldemort.


Harry was breathing heavily now.


He raised his wand again but Voldemort hit him with a hex that made him twist around and fall
heavily. From the low wince that came from Harry, both Hermione and Ron knew he was badly hurt this
time.


“Ah,” said Voldemort cruelly. “That hit the spot, didn’t it?”


Harry rolled over and fired directly at Voldemort, but he jumped to one side and fired back at
Harry again. Harry’s left arm shimmered and almost vanished.


“Stop!” yelled Hermione.


“*Hermione*?” whispered Harry.


“You are delirious, boy!” said Voldemort as he approached. “Allow me to send you on your way. It
will be some time before Lord Voldemort finally succumbs to death!”


He raised his wand and Harry looked defiantly back up at him. Harry’s left arm reappeared
sufficiently to allow him to prop himself up a little.


Harry raised his wand to Voldemort and instinctively Hermione and Ron did the same.


All three of them fired at once and Voldemort staggered back.


“No!” shouted Hargreaves, pulling at Ron’s arm. “We mustn’t interfere!”


Voldemort looked utterly shocked as he looked at the visitors to the scene.


“Hermione? Ron?” said Harry, sounding shocked. “What are you doing here? You’re not dead, are
you?”


“Not yet, Harry,” replied Hermione.


Voldemort fired at her but Harry’s shield was too quick for him. He jumped up, his vague
shimmering practically gone.


Ron shrugged off Williams and said, “Are we going to finish this or not?”


The three of them raised their wands.


Hargreaves made to grab Ron again but Tallus shoved him aside, his bow raised and ready to fire.
Harry, Hermione and Ron all fired in unison. The flare of their hexes had only just died when both
Centaurs fired arrow after arrow at Voldemort.


Harry stepped forward and fired again.


Voldemort convulsed with pain and a cold dark mist began to appear at his feet. Soon the entire
clearing was covered and they could no longer see the ground.


“What is happening?” demanded Voldemort.


Hermione stepped forward but Harry raised his arm and gently pushed her wand down.


“Watch,” he said quietly. “This is the end. He’s finished.”


The forest gradually lost definition and the trees faded. All they could see to the horizon all
around them was the same dark mist.


Voldemort began looking around fearfully.


At first wisps of mist flew up as the figures rose up out of the depths of the mist. Each stood
motionless, staring at Voldemort with lifeless eyes.


Hermione clutched hold of Harry’s hand and she gave a happy laugh feeling his strong pulse.


“Are these all his victims?” asked Ron in wonder, looking around at the multitude of ghosts now
appearing.


“Yes,” said Tallus.


“They are not ghosts, though, are they?”


“No,” agreed Williams. “They are just echoes.”


“There must be hundreds of them!”


“He caused much suffering,” said Pardus.


Ron looked at all the magical creatures that were gathering too. There were Centaurs, Giants,
Goblins and House Elves. He looked over to Hermione and was about to point this out when he saw how
she was looking intently up at Harry.


As one, the silent ghosts each raised an accusing arm at Voldemort.


Voldemort whimpered, perhaps finally understanding the extent of his crimes or perhaps
anticipating his fate.


A ripple went through the mist and the ghosts began walking towards Voldemort. The ghosts
advanced from all around, each seeming to pass straight through each other as they converged.


Voldemort screamed pitifully as each ghost reached him and began pulling him down. It sounded as
if Voldemort was feeling every inch of pain and suffering he had caused his victims to suffer.


Gradually, Voldemort disappeared from view, although his screams could still be heard and the
ghosts kept coming.


Not one of the witnesses felt an ounce of pity.


After what seemed an age, Voldemort’s screams grew quieter and the last of the ghosts descended
down into the mist.


Hermione tried to spot Sirius and Harry’s parents amongst the ghosts, but she did not recognise
them.


“What now?” asked Ron shakily.


Harry smiled sadly and held up Hermione’s hand. Ron could see she was red in the face and
already shaking her head.


“Thank you for your help, all of you,” said Harry. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m
afraid this is where we finally say goodbye.”


“No, Harry!” cried Hermione, heavy tears falling down her cheeks.


“Shh,” he said gently. “It isn’t so bad.”


“You have to *live*, Harry!”


“He will,” said Williams.


“What?”


“Potter is still entitled to claim his day of life. In fact, he can’t actually refuse it,
either, so he won’t die today.”


“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” said Hermione hopefully.


“Hermione,” said Ron. “I think *we’re* the ones who won’t live.”


“That is not entirely correct,” said Williams. “The four of us will simply cease to be. We will
live on, but we are not entitled to live the time we spent here. This time line will stop once
Potter returns, although I suspect Voldemort’s suffering will continue for some time.”


“Will we remember anything?”


“Perhaps, but the mind may block out conflicting memories.”


“Harry!”


Ron gasped as Harry began to fade and Hermione’s hand lost his. A moment later, he was gone.


Hermione wiped her face and Ron stepped over to put a comforting arm around her shoulder.


“Everything will work out, won’t it?” she asked hopefully.


“Potter will be troubled for some time, I suspect,” said Williams. “He had prepared himself for
death and learning about Voldemort’s most recent victims will not be easy.”


“It was particularly spiteful to slaughter so many children,” observed Tallus. “Presumably he
did it just to antagonise Potter.”


“Stupid really, since Potter could have no idea.”


“Um,” said Ron. “Shouldn’t we have gone by now? I’m a bit impatient to get back to Luna.”


“*You* are already with her,” Hargreaves reminded him.


“I’m just saying I wish we’d hurry up and get going.”


“Time has no meaning here,” said Tallus.


“*We* won’t go anywhere,” said Hargreaves.


“What would you know, anyway?” demanded Ron as they gently began to fade.


Hermione just smiled listening as they argued pointlessly, and hoped her other self would find
the courage to finally tell Harry how she felt.


*


Hermione woke with a start and looked around. Sitting in a comfortable looking leather armchair
just outside the cell bars was Williams. He smiled warmly at her.


She wiped her face as she sat up.


“How much of it was real? I keep dreaming things that can’t have happened.”


“Um, that’s not an easy answer to give. Since he’s alive, I’d suggest it *must* have been a
dream. That’s the only *logical* explanation, after all.”


“Why did his body keep vanishing?”


“It didn’t,” said Williams with a widening smile. “It if it had, then it would probably have
been due to the fact that an object may only occupy one space in time. If a live Harry could walk
past his own dead body, things would get terribly distracting, not to say confusing.”


Hermione snorted, but looked quickly to make sure she hadn’t woken Harry.


“What will happen to him?”


“Who can say? He will be deeply troubled, certainly. Voldemort may have gone, but he left his
mark inside him. It may be years before he finally comes to terms with himself. He probably won’t
truly remember you being there either.”


“And what about what will happen to me? I can’t bare the thought of losing him, yet at the same
time I’m terrified of what he might do.”


“You’ll have to work that out yourselves, but my advice would be to stand up to him. He came
back not because he loves life or fears death. He came back because he loves *you*.


“The difficulty is that his experiences this evening may well cause him to forget that. Well, if
not forget then *misunderstand*. You’ll need to be patient and watchful.”


“I’ll try.”


“As I said, his mind will make him forget some things. You may not notice it, but already your
own memories will also be fading. You have not slept properly yet. When you do, some memories will
go forever.”


“Will you need to modify the memories of the Ministry Officials?”


“No. As far as they are concerned, Potter walked out of the forest alive. They only looked for
Voldemort’s body but failed to find it.”


“What did happen to it?”


“I assume Potter still has the remains which he transfigured before leaving the clearing with
Malfoy. We’ll trust the six of you to dispose of it together as you originally planned. Potter was
right not to allow the Ministry any involvement.”


“What about *your* memories?”


“As an Unspeakable, I have a slight advantage.”


“Can you tell me what the Centaurs meant?”


“Ah, I’m afraid that is a little complicated. They predicted many years ago the circumstances of
Mr Potter’s death. They knew that the astronomical alignment wasn’t quite as they predicted. I’m
sure they are debating that very point as we speak.


“Personally, I think they just got the timing wrong. Planetary alignments occur, by their very
nature, in repeating periods.”


“So, they just chose the wrong period?”


“Yes, that now looks likely. Mr Potter may yet defy the planets again, of course, but the
Centaurs will expect him to die in a fight against some as yet unknown forces of Dark
Magic."


“They just assumed it would be Voldemort?”


“Indeed. It wasn’t such an unreasonable assumption to make. You know?” added Williams, looking
around, “I’m not sure this is the ideal place for him to recover, you know?”


“Try telling Parsons that!”


“I don’t think we should trouble him at this late hour, do you?” said Williams with a smile. He
held up his wand but his smile hesitated.


“I am sorry about what will happen. You both deserve more time than you’ll have together. The
worst thing is, you won’t even remember. I can’t see any other way. We just have to let things take
their course.”


Before she could respond, he flicked his wand and suddenly Hermione found herself standing in
the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.


She looked up and down the ward, but everything was quiet.


Hermione knew she had just been with Harry inside his Azkaban cell, but to her intense annoyance
she could not remember the person she had just been speaking to.


She recalled the leather armchair vividly, but not the person.


Hermione would never realise it, but the moment she wondered where Harry was, the chair vanished
from her memories too.


Hermione peeked behind the screen she was standing besides. Harry was beginning to stir.


“Hermione? Is that you?”


“Shh!” she said, allowing him to grasp her hand.


Then an idea occurred to her.


“What are you doing?” he asked. “Don’t go,” he added with a hint of desperation has she freed
herself again.


Hermione pulled back the screens and then removed the castor braking spells before carefully
wheeling the bed out into the centre of the ward.


The next morning they would discover they had left behind a small scroll on the bedside cabinet.
It was a pre-dated Azkaban release order signed by Minister Scrimgeour together with both their
Order of Merlin awards. Parsons would fail in his attempt to withdraw Scrimgeour’s final orders and
medal awards, but he would succeed in cancelling the award ceremony on trumped up grounds of
safety.


It would be years before the public learned Harry had even been awarded the Order of Merlin
First Class.


Harry just looked up at her, wondering what on earth she was up to.


Hermione pushed the bed right along to the far end of the ward and through the doors, praying
her nerve would hold out.


“Aren’t these the isolation rooms?” he asked in confusion.


“Yes, Harry. I thought we could do with a little, um, isolation.”


“Okay,” he said slowly as Hermione locked the door and put out the lanterns. “Hermione, there’s
something you should know. It’s hard to describe, but I’m not sure he’s really gone. It’s like I
can still feel him inside me.”


Hermione sighed and said gently, “I know, Harry. Let’s not think about that tonight, though. I’d
like to pretend I didn’t make the mistake of hiding my feelings for you or failing to see what you
were hiding from me.”


She felt his face in the dark and kissed him softly.


“I should have said something sooner,” he said. “I was afraid I wasn’t coming back.”


“I know, Harry,” she said brushing her wand lightly down his side. His night gown vanished
instantly.


“Hermione, where did you learn to do that!”


“Shh, Harry,” she replied laughing and climbing up onto the bed.


END


-


*AN: I’m not really sure if the idea of Harry having a day taken away and then returned so he
could live on makes much sense, but there you go. I didn’t bother to explain Harry’s incarceration,
because that happened in a different time-line. Parsons just needed him out of the way while he
secured power for himself and Browne still got appointed Head of the Auror Department by Scrimgeour
after he sacked Parsons.*