Chapter 33: The Second Person He Fears
Harry's confidence began to fade as he opened the back door to the Riddle House. It creaked a little more than Harry would have liked, the ringing pitch sounding a death knell, an bad omen of the situation. Harry crossed the threshold and took in the dark room. It had a dank smell of damp and rust, a musty odour that hung still in the stagnant air and tickled the nose of those not used to its pungency.
Harry crossed the kitchen as silently as he could, sliding his feet over the tiled floor. The kitchen table, bland and unset, stood lonely in the centre of the room. Spectral and skeletal, Harry wondered what it would have been like for Tom Riddle's parents to sit there with him; whether they had any idea that their son was to become the worlds most evil sorcerer. Wondering whether this was the table at which they'd been found dead…
The thought of death did little for Harry's state of mind. His hair wasn't so much standing on end as trying to pull itself out of the pores in Harry's skin. He hoped he wouldn't have to duel, not only because Voldemort would beat him with tremendous ease but that his hands were shaking so much that there wouldn't be much point even trying to fire an accurate spell.
The silence wasn't helping matters. The droning was ringing loud in his ears, obscuring his efforts to pick up any trace of sound, to try and be prepared for what was lurking in wait for him. Harry was also pinning his ears to the air to try and pick up any sound of Hermione, the prospect of her still being alive would give him the top up shot of determination and courage he so desperately needed.
The door to the kitchen stood ajar. Harry eased it open and stepped through into a handsome, high-ceilinged hallway. The colour scheme was deep red and light pink, giving a very genial air to the place, totally in contrast to what Harry was feeling and completely removed from the attitude of its current owner. The pink carpet had taken on an unusual grey tint due to the build up of several inches of dust. Harry wasn't complaining; on the contrary, he was quite glad as it muffled the sound of his shivering footsteps.
Not that this seemed very important now. After all, Harry knew he'd have to face up to Hermione's captors eventually, so hiding from them seemed a fruitless exercise. He was pretty confident also that he had about as much chance as sneaking up on Voldemort as Dudley did of playing Quidditch for England. The thought of Dudley on a broomstick brought a smile to Harry's face and lightened his mood.
Harry walked silently up the stairs, listening to the distant popping and crackling of a fire up ahead. Still he could hear no voices, no footsteps and, more importantly, no screams. Harry had half expected Voldemort to torture Hermione. At least, Harry gulped, if she was dead, it would have been quick. Harry shivered involuntarily. Such morbid thoughts were unlikely to get him anywhere. And there was Dudley being chased by a Bludger. There, that's better.
Harry reached the landing, his tongue engorged and painful in his mouth, his teeth chattering and his neck so tense his shoulders were hurting. It was a cold night but Harry felt a bead of sweat escape from his hairline, trickle down past his eye and fall off at his cheek. The door stood ahead of him, bland and boring, but leading the way to the source of the firelight. He had to go through.
Harry placed a hand against the door and pushed it open. Nothing. He breathed uncomfortably as he took a few steps into the room. The wall on his right obscured his view of the wider room but the insubstantial flickering of the firelight was growing stronger. A few more steps…then Harry froze. There was someone there.
It was Hermione.
She stood, still and upright, her face fixed with a look of total terror. Her eyes widened as Harry drew into her sight and she looked more terrified than before. Her whole body was rigid, as if someone had flicked a body-bind curse on her. She shook her head slightly and Harry knew that she was telling him not to go further. But that was not the best plan.
For seeing Hermione move had sent a wave a relief so powerful crashing over Harry that he actual stumbled as his knees gave way. As he righted himself, though, his determination and his resolve returned and he was prepared to face whatever it was that was holding Hermione. It too, was prepared for him.
'Come on in, Harry, join the party.'
The high-pitched, soulless voice stabbed through the cold air and chilled it even more. Harry stepped forward with leaden legs, turning the corner and taking in the whole scene. The room was totally bare. The floorboards had been swept clear of the dust covering the rest of the house and a large pile of it rested in one shadowy corner. A mouldy, tatty hearthrug lay in front of a small fire which had been lit in the charred grate and covered by a metal mesh whose edges were rutted and had several dangerous looking spikes protruding from them. In the centre of the room was a large, dirty armchair. On this chair, wand drawn, sat Voldemort.
'Welcome, Harry,' said the cold voice again, 'I thought you'd never get up here. Never used stairs before, have we? Or did the fear get the better of you?'
'I don't fear you,' Harry lied.
'That is your mistake,' cackled Voldemort. 'Those who choose not to fear me are either extremely brave or extremely foolish. Though both meet the same end.'
'Where's Luna?' asked Harry, casting around for a change of subject whilst trying to formulate a plan. It had been a bold and brave idea to come straight for Hermione but now he was here thinking of a plan beforehand seemed like it would have been a fruitful course of action.
'Oh her?' said Voldemort casually, 'I have no use for her now. I believe she is back at Hogwarts joining in the festivities.'
'Festivities?' asked Harry.
'Why yes, Harry. The festivities for the coming of chaos, marking the beginning of my reign. Fitting don't you think?'
'Not really,' said Harry.
Voldemort seemed keen to talk and Harry thought it must be because he wanted to prolong the fear for Harry and Hermione, and to elongate the pleasure of the occasion for himself. Harry had no idea how to get out of this situation. It was hopeless.
'Anyway, Harry,' continued Voldemort, 'I have no time or patience for this little chat. I want to get it over with. So, shall we duel or shall I kill this Mudblood, Muggle filth first?'
Harry felt a surge from deep within his gut, something more potent than anything he'd experienced before. He'd felt something similar several times before. It was the feeling Dumbledore said came whenever anyone tried to hurt Hermione. The thing that would stop anyone hurting her in Harry's presence.
Could it be? Harry thought fast. Was it possible? Could this be it? The power that he knows not? Harry wasn't sure but he had to find out.
'What did you call her?' Harry asked viciously.
'That's a better tone,' sniped Voldemort. 'I called her a Mudblood, Muggle piece of Filth. I could have added ugly, deluded, pathetic and with ridiculous hair. But these things mean little to Lord Voldemort.'
Harry bubbled. He concentrated, much in the same way as he had when created the portkey. The anger was making him shake as he added all thoughts of the Dursleys, Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge to his mind.
'Come now, Harry,' said Voldemort icily, 'Shall I give you a taste of what's in store for you? Come Wormtail, you can watch this.'
Harry started. Wormtail? Here?
'Yes, master,' said a quavering voice from the shadows. Peter Pettigrew emerged and stood near Voldemort. Harry noticed his wand was out.
'Bind Potter for Lord Voldemort, Wormtail.'
Wormtail flicked his wand and Harry felt his body come over all cold and he realised he could no longer move. At the same time, Hermione came undone from the bind she had previously been in.
'Harry! Why did you come! Why!' she cried.
But Harry couldn't move his head, just his eyes. But he didn't, he just stared at Hermione, trying to make her understand. But she couldn't.
Because she was now up in the air and her body was being twisted and contorted as Voldemort held her in the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione's spine curved and arced and Harry knew that a fraction more and he would hear the sickening snap as it broke. But it didn't. Instead, Voldemort decided to twist Hermione, turning her bones painfully around as she hung in mid air. The high pitched screams were cutting to every tiny bit of Harry's body and mind. But something was happening.
The anger brewing inside him was doing something. It was moving. Slowly, and rather painfully, it was creeping through his veins towards his right hand, in which he still held his wand. Harry noticed then that he had regained some of his movement. Whatever charm Wormtail had on him, Harry was beating it. And Pettigrew knew it.
'Master! Master! I cannot hold him. He is resisting.'
'Be stronger Wormtail, you pathetic excuse for a wizard!' yelled Voldemort. 'Hold him or face my wrath.'
'Let her go or face mine.'
Harry had regained the power of speech and so much more. His entire body was tingling with something that Harry couldn't explain. His skin was shivering and his head was vibrating through it. But there was power there and Harry had to harness it.
'Face your wrath!' laughed Voldemort, his high-pitch superseding Hermione's screams.
'Let me go,' said Harry dangerously.
'Wormtail, take care of him,' ordered Voldemort.
But before Wormtail could do anything Harry flicked his wand in Wormtail's direction, without even looking at him. The next sound Harry heard was a loud thud as Wormtail smashed into the wall on the other side of the room.
Though his eyes didn't look remotely afraid, Lord Voldemort did survey Harry with a look that resembled intrigue.
'That was a man's action,' said Voldemort sounding mildly surprised and impressed.
'Then let us fight like men,' said Harry, though his voice didn't sound like it was coming from his mouth.
'Very well,' said Voldemort dropping Hermione mercilessly to the ground, 'I will let you have your moment. Time for revenge, Harry?'
Voldemort's sarcastic laughter really annoyed Harry at this moment. The Dark Lord was doing his head in, which Harry thought was a strange sensation to have at this moment.
'Its not so much revenge I'm after,' said Harry thoughtfully, 'more like a reckoning.'
'Then lets reckon,' said Voldemort.
'No!' cried Harry as Hermione got to her feet and pointed her wand at Voldemort, 'this is between me and him. Don't do anything.'
'How noble,' cackled Voldemort, 'don't you think you could use some help, Harry?'
'Nope,' said Harry calmly.
'Very well.'
Harry was caught by surprise and the power of Voldemort's spell was so powerful that it tossed Harry across the room in a second. It sent a gust of wind through the room so great that Harry, whilst flying through the air, saw Hermione totter against its force.
'I hope,' said Voldemort icily, 'that you haven't underestimated me, Harry.'
Harry didn't respond. He flicked his wand at Voldemort and sprinkle of white dust flew towards him at great speed. Voldemort conjured a translucent shield of light to deflect it. The shield did its job but it rocked Voldemort back and he stumbled away from it. He looked up at Harry and for the first time Harry saw it. In Voldemort's eyes. It wasn't fear. It wasn't wariness. It was respect.
'What was that?' asked Voldemort. What sort of charm was that?'
'The sort of which you know not,' said Harry cryptically.
Voldemort flicked his wand at Harry and an arrow of pure fire shot his way. Harry swished his wand and an avalanche of snow engulfed the arrow, both vanishing before they hit the floor. Then Voldemort shot a blast of light at the dust in the corner, which rose up and flew towards Harry. He tried to think how best to repel it as Hermione fired a Stunning spell across the room. It hit the dust blanket but instead of helping it simply cut it in two, doubling the danger.
Harry darted around the room, diving away from the blankets as they tried to cover him, all to the sound of Voldemort's cackling laugh. The blankets had him cornered and as they were coming together Voldemort struck again. It was the Cruciatus Curse.
Harry felt his limbs as if they were being torn from one another. His bones were being pulled apart as though made of play dough and his skin was burning all over. Then it stopped and Harry fell to the floor.
'What is that magic you have?' screamed Voldemort as Harry looked up at him, hunched on the floor. 'Perhaps I should take out your girlfriend first, maybe its her?'
'No!' cried Harry. 'Don't do that! I'll surrender. I'll let you finish me. Just don't hurt her in front of me.'
Harry had thought of a plan, he just hoped it would work.
'You will stand aside and let it end?'
'Yes.'
'Where's the fun in that?'
'I didn't think Lord Voldemort would need to have fun. This would be your crowning moment. All those years of embarrassment; all those sniggering voices behind your back, laughing at you for being unable to kill a mere baby. I will let you wipe that clean, you will finally send me to my parents.'
Harry's argument seemed to hold water with Voldemort, something he'd counted on. He had gambled on Voldemort choosing what was easy rather than what was right. He had chosen to listen to Harry's easy option, rather than ignore him and do the right thing by taking Harry out.
'I want just one thing,' added Harry.
'I knew there would be something,' smirked Voldemort. 'What makes you think I should give you anything?'
'You'll like this,' said Harry.
'Go on,' said Voldemort intrigued.
'All I want is the chance to say goodbye to Hermione,' said Harry. 'I just want one last time with her. Think of it, think how much more satisfying it would be to kill me if I know you are forcing her to watch you torture me. Think of how much more painful it will be for me. All I want is one minute.'
'Very well,' said Voldemort. 'She is no use to me anyway. I shall let her go after your little farewell.'
Harry knew he was lying but he had the moment he wanted. He walked up to Hermione, whose wand was still pointing at Voldemort. She looked scared and confused and Harry smiled lightly at her, hoping to relax her. It had the effect of making her looked confused.
'Hermione,' Harry said loudly, casting a glance at Voldemort, 'this is our last moment together. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I'm sorry I didn't have the power to save you. I'm really sorry.'
Voldemort laughed heartily in the background but Harry ignored him, instead focusing on making forced faces at Hermione, hoping to communicate that he had a plan. She seemed to have understood as her expression changed. She now looked questioningly at him. There was nothing for it. He would have to speak to her.
'I just want to say goodbye,' said Harry in a false emotional voice, and leaned in to hug her, his head on the shoulder furthest away from Voldemort. 'Don't move your arm. Go along with what I do. If you feel anything weird happening to you just ignore it. Trust me,' whispered Harry.
He moved away from Hermione and looked into her eyes. Voldemort was positively cheering in the background.
'Are you finished yet?' he asked.
'Just one more thing,' said Harry, his right hand moving up to Hermione's and forcing their wands together. His other hand went to Hermione's shoulder and he stared deeply into her eyes. 'I love you, Hermione.'
Voldemort howled with high-pitched laughter as Harry placed a powerful kiss on Hermione's lips, all the time focusing on his emotions. Like Dumbledore said, he concentrated all his emotions; all his anger, all his love, all his hate. And he could feel it. Building up somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he could feel it bubbling and moving but more rapidly this time. It was coursing through his veins, burning and scratching at his skin as it shot towards his right hand…and his wand.
He opened his eyes and saw Hermione wide-eyed herself. He could see the pain in her eyes and feel her hand vibrating as the substance flowing through him reached his hand. He put as much pressure on Hermione's lips as he could, his body shivering and quavering down low that was little to do with the tingling magic running through him. Then it happened.
It felt like an explosion of heated pleasure. For although it burned awfully in his fingers the feeling sent waves of happiness coursing through his body from his wand. He heard a loud cry and a thud and glanced to his right, not breaking the kiss with Hermione. He saw Voldemort, face contorted in agony, pinned against the wall by a vicious stream of pure white light.
Harry knew he couldn't break the kiss or the stream of energy, so focused on kissing Hermione. A second later and Harry heard a fizzing pop to his right and knew that Voldemort had Disapparated. Still, he didn't break the kiss. It didn't matter, Harry didn't care that Voldemort had escaped. He had saved Hermione.
It was she who broke the kiss, collapsing onto Harry into a powerful hug and bursting into tears.
'Its ok now,' said Harry consolingly, 'its over.'
'H-how, w-what did you do?' sobbed Hermione.
'I'm not really sure,' said Harry, 'its something Dumbledore said. That prophecy said I'd have a power that Voldemort did not. That power could only be truly powerful with you. I had to be close to you, part of you to really make it work. I had to be with you because that power is love.'
Hermione let out a howl and sobbed even harder onto Harry's shoulder who suddenly realised where they were.
'C'mon Hermione,' he said seriously, 'lets get out of here.'
'How?'
'I've got a portkey out in the garden. C'mon.'
Harry led Hermione down the stairs and out of the house, noting that Wormtail had also escaped. They used the portkey and landed back in the library, now deserted but still devastated.
'Oh no!' exclaimed Hermione desperately, 'how could they do this to the library?'
The defeat of Voldemort at the hands of Harry wrought a change in his plans. He must have realised he had a new problem, ordering his followers to withdraw from Hogwarts to regroup and rethink. It my also have had something to do with the small army of Aurors that made their way to the school. Or the rumours of his defeat at the hands of Harry that may have made them wary enough to flee.
When the school was secured and the damage surveyed Dumbledore decided it was best to send the remaining students home, relieving them of their entrenched warrior status. The journey home on the Hogwarts express was strained. Ron sat very quietly in the carriage, several seats away from Harry on the other side of the compartment. Hermione had decided to give Ron a chance to redeem himself as soon as she could think of something to give him the opportunity. Harry had agreed with it but not without complaint.
He sat on the train, nursing his wounds that were still healing after Madame Pomfrey's makeshift remedies. Hermione was looking painfully at him but both their thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the compartment door. In walked Luna, head high and airy as though nothing had happened of interest in her life.
'Hello,' she said dreamily.
'Out,' said Hermione sternly, so much so that even Ron looked up, surprised.
'What?' said Luna, who sounded rather affronted.
'You aren't welcome here,' snapped Hermione.
'I don't think that's for you to decide,' said Luna haughtily.
'Oh, I think it is,' said Hermione forcefully, 'and I want you to leave.'
'Well, Ronald wants me here.'
'Who cares what he thinks!' cried Hermione, who was now bawling into the face of Luna, who seemed unmoved.
'I do, and if you don't get out of my face I'll…'
Luna made to draw out her wand and Hermione did something Harry had only seen once before. And it shocked him then too. She bawled up a fist and thumped Luna extremely hard in the mouth. She fell down clutching her jaw as her eyes welled up. She stumbled to get up.
'Shall I help you?' cried Hermione who strode over and kicked Luna in the backside several times until she was out of the door and down the corridor. 'And don't come back! And are you going to complain?' she thundered at Ron.
'No, no,' he replied shakily, looking terrified of Hermione.
The rest of the trip seemed much more pleasant and Ron even began talking. Harry tried to feel less animosity towards him and as he grovelled and apologised every five minutes he knew he'd be able to forgive him. When the train pulled in and they walked through the barrier at Kings Cross Station Harry turned to Ron.
'It wont be easy but I can try to forgive you,' said Harry. 'But I cant forget what you've done and from now on I'll be watching you like a hawk.'
'I hope you do,' spluttered Ron, 'and punch me if you think I'm being idiot or a threat.'
Harry laughed and shook Ron's hand, who then turned around and into a huge hug from Mrs Weasley. Harry was grabbed by Hermione, who kissed him strongly.
'I promise I wont let you go a day without hearing from me,' said Hermione. 'I might even come and see you. In any case, Dumbledore said you only have to stay at Privet Drive for a week then you can come and stay with me again. I'll see you soon.'
Harry hugged Hermione again before walking to his Uncle. This could be the best Summer yet.
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