The Absence of Magic

1. The Absence of Magic

Voldemort's high, cold laugh rang out in the crumbling chamber as a group of his Death Eaters surrounded the small band of survivors. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Hagrid crouched together warily. Hagrid was burned and bleeding in several places, but his giant blood had deflected the worst of the curses. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all ominously unscathed. Perhaps it was Harry's skill that had kept them safe, but more likely it was Voldemort's wish to finish them off personally.

“So ends the famous Harry Potter,” the Dark Lord mocked as he approached. “Defeated at last by the Dark Lord he unwisely challenged. Yet I do have to give you credit, Potter. No one else has caused me so much aggravation, so many setbacks, as you. Time after time you spoiled my plans and lived to tell of it.”

Harry grimaced, head twisting back and forth, seeking a path to safety. But there was none, and with that knowledge came a grudging acceptance. Resignation, and a touch of nervousness, flashed across his face before it finally settled into calm. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then Harry, and swallowed apprehensively.

“But now Dumbledore is gone,” Voldemort continued, unaware. “There is no one to save you this time. I salute you for being a worthy opponent. You even managed to destroy my Horcruxes. But it matters not. I shall simply make new ones, beginning with your death. Farewell, Harry Potter. I shall almost miss you.”

Finished, Voldemort raised his wand. Hermione moaned and Hagrid made to step in front of them. But a sudden, shocking sound froze everyone, including Voldemort. It was the last sound anyone was expecting.

It was laughter.

“What are you laughing at, fool?” Voldemort demanded, incensed. “Don't you realize you are about to die?!”

Harry simply laughed louder, as if there was a funny joke that only he knew. Or perhaps that wasn't right; Hermione and Ron also seemed strangely relaxed.

“I know something you don't,” Harry taunted, still wearing a mad grin. He reached out and joined hands with Hermione and Ron. Hagrid watched with old, sad eyes, but no surprise. He knew what was coming.

“You know nothing,” hissed Voldemort. “This foolishness will not extend your pitiful life any longer. Time to die, Potter!”

But Harry wasn't listening. He looked at Hermione and Ron in turn, and they both nodded. Just as Voldemort screeched the beginning of the fatal, unblockable Avada Kedavra a wave of magical energy exploded out from Harry to engulf the room. It crackled like static, then suddenly the air itself grew unnaturally still. Harry slumped forward and was held up only by Hermione and Ron.

“Avada Kedavra,” cried Voldemort into the silence, only to stare in disbelief as nothing happened. He tried again, but still nothing happened. Panicked Death Eaters began screaming curses and hexes, but it was as if magic had ceased to exist. Some cried out in shock, others simply stared at their wands, dumbfounded. And then a menacing growl broke over the room. With growing fear, the Death Eaters realized just how large and frightening Hagrid really was.

Several fled immediately through any available exit. Vodemort stood still, uncomprehending that magic could fail him, for a long minute before a shadow of true fear passed across his face. Spinning, he ran to follow his minions, but he wasn't quick enough; in a dozen long strides Hagrid reached him. A half dozen of the braver Death Eaters tried to stand in Hagrid's way, but he swatted them aside effortlessly. One tremendous blow later Voldemort sailed thirty, forty feet through the air to crash with terrific force against the rough stone wall. He slid down and did not stir.

“That's for Harry an' Dumbledore, yeh evil git!”

Harry cheered weakly, held up on either side by Ron and Hermione. His limbs trembled uncontrollably and huge dark circles had appeared under his eyes. He appeared to have aged ten years over the last few moments.

Several of the more intelligent Death Eaters, seeing Harry weakened, rushed forward to attack the trio while Hagrid was distracted. Ron immediately let go of Harry and felled the first to reach them; he had grown very tall and strong over the last year and fought with a strength born of desperation and anger. Hermione, knowing she was useless in such a fight, held Harry close and sank to the floor under his dead weight, tears streaming down her face as she watched Ron struggle. He was putting up a valiant effort, but it was clear he was going to be overwhelmed.

A roar of rage alerted them that Hagrid had seen their plight. Looking up hopefully Hermione saw him struggling towards them. The rest of the Death Eaters had recovered their wits and were bogging Hagrid down by sheer numbers and weight. It was doubtful they'd be able to stop him completely, but they would be able to delay him long enough to finish off Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“No...” Hermione moaned. “Please, no...”

It couldn't be happening. They had tried so hard, suffered so much, for it to end now. They had found the answer, they had done everything right and neutralized Voldemort's powers. All for naught. Even now, several Death Eaters had surrounded Voldemort and were about to whisk him away to safety. Hagrid was too worried about her, Harry and Ron to stop them.

“No, Hagrid!” she screamed. “We don't matter! Stop them! Get Voldemort!”

“No!” he roared back, redoubling his efforts to reach them. Two unfortunate Death Eaters bore the brunt of his flailig fists and collapsed into boneless heaps, but Hermione felt all hope drain out of her. Even if Hagrid managed to reach them in time, it was over. Voldemort was going to get away and now he knew about their secret. He would never put himself in harm's way again. He'd surround himself with giants, or dementors, or some other foul thing that didn't need magic.

At her side Harry groaned and Hermione immediately turned her attention upon him. He had pushed himself into a sitting position. He was trembling and covered in sweat, but a dogged look of determination shone in his eyes. With a tremendous effort he forced himself upright and stood protectively over Hermione.

“Hermione,” he said softly. “ I will protect you.”

At that moment it was as if nothing else existed. Hermione looked up into Harry's brilliant green eyes, her own sparkling with tears. He reached out with a trembling hand to wipe the tears off her face as they heard a strangled yell from Ron, the tenderest of looks upon his face. Hermione broke into sobs and threw her arms around Harry, half holding him for support and half holding him up.

“Harry,” she mumbled into his chest. “I'm scared.”

“Me too, Hermione. But as long as we're together, it will be ok.”

She nodded into his sweat and tear soaked shirt.

“Harry... I- I, um... I have to tell you something. While I still can.”

They ignored the encroaching Death Eaters completely.

“Tell me what?” he asked gently. Hermione finally looked up into his eyes, now unafraid.

“I, um... I'm not afraid to tell you anymore. It's just, well.... I-love-you,” she said in a rush, then drew a deep breath. “I always have, and I always will.”

For the first time, a tear slowly traced its path down Harry's face, carving a clean furrow through the grime.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I- I've felt the same way about you for a long time, only it took me until now to realize it... I'm a little slow sometimes. But... I love you too, Hermione.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her. It was everything- no, it was more than she had ever dared imagine. Taking strength from each other they stood, backs straight and proud, and faced death together.

A death that never came.

A hair-rasing howl rent the air and a huge, furry body catapulted itself into the press of Death Eaters surrounding them. Terrible snarling and tearing noises mingled with the screams of Death Eaters being torn apart. Harry and Hermione looked on in disbelief and for one heartstopping moment Harry thought it was Sirius, come back to save them. Until he realized that it wasn't big enough. It wasn't the right color. It was...

“Lupin!” Hermione whispered.

The frenzied werewolf tore through the Death Eaters and they couldn't stand against him. Those that weren't killed cried in despair as they fled, knowing what the wounds they bore condemned them to. Hagrid, seeing they were safe for the moment, turned back and scattered the Death Eaters bearing Voldemort away. Effortlessly, he threw the unconscious Dark Lord over his shoulder and hurried back towards the now freed trio.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione found themselves facing a fully grown werewolf. Lupin was stalking towards them silently, blood dripping from his fangs and claws. The Death Eaters had fled in their entirety, unable to stand against both a half-giant and a werewolf without the aid of magic.

“Stay back!” Hagrid roared at Lupin, still twenty yards away and sprinting as fast as he could. Lupin ignored him and padded right up to Harry and Hermione. They stood very still as he sniffed them and then, to their surprise, sat calmly at their feet.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, flinging out a tiny arm to stop a rushing Hagrid. “He's safe! He took his Wolfsbane potion! Professor Lupin, can you understand me?”

The werewolf nodded his head and his tongue lolled out in what was unmistakeably a feral grin. It was a very unnatural expression to see on an animal. At that moment, a cloud passed in front of the moon that had been shining through the gaping hole in the ceiling. The werewolf convulsed and whined piteously; moments later Lupin lay panting on the floor.

“Remus!” boomed Hagrid, reaching down and pulling Lupin to his feet easily. “Crikey, am I chuffed to see yeh!”

Lupin smiled weakly, wiping the blood off his chin in revulsion. Almost before he had finished he whipped out his wand and pointed it out the ceiling. Muttering a spell, he sealed off the hole with a dark, faintly glowing material, blocking the moonlight.

“How-?” Harry asked in amazement. “We thought you were dead!”

“Yeah... we saw you die!” Hermione said shakily. “How-?”

“Ah, Hermione,” Lupin responded with a twisted smile. “You're forgetting your lessons. What powers does a werewolf possess?”

“A werewolf? A werewolf, um... Oh! Regeneration!”

“Very good, Hermione.”

“So what happened after-” Hermione began.

But Lupin wasn't listening anymore; instead, he was eyeing Voldemort's unconscious form, still draped across Hagrid's shoulder, with utmost loathing. Hagrid, seeing this, dumped Voldemort none too gently upon the ground. Rage bubbled up in Harry and he began kicking the body with all the strength he had left, but Hagrid pulled him back with one massive hand.

“No, Harry!” Hermione cried. “You have to be better than him!”

“Let me go!” Harry struggled feebly. “I'm going to hurt him! For everything he's done. For Dumbledore, and Sirius, and my parents-”

“No, Harry,” Hermione choked, heartbroken. Tenderly, she gathered him within her arms and he collapsed against her.

“For... for... for...” Harry kept mumbling. Hermione stroked his hair softly.

“Oh no!” Harry cried wildly. “Ron!”

Breaking free, he fell to his knees besides Ron's body. The red of his hair wasn't confined to just his head anymore; it was all over his arms and torso in sticky streaks. His face was terribly pale and livid bruises covered his body.

“RON! Ron, please be ok! Oh, Merlin, please don't be dead-”

“Harry, move aside,” Lupin commanded sharply. “Let me see him. Harry, move!”

Lupin forcefully pushed Harry away and knelt beside Ron. Gingerly, he felt Ron's wrist and sat still for a long moment. Finally, he let his breath out explosively.

“He's still alive.”

Harry sagged in relief and Hermione sat down heavily beside him as her knees gave way. Lupin was now running his hands through the air above Ron's body. Sparks of magic trailed off his fingertips as he muttered under his breath. At last he stopped and the golden flecks of magic sank into Ron's body.

“Is he going to be ok?” Harry demanded.

“Yes, I think so,” Lupin sighed. “My ability at healing isn't much, but it should be enough to keep him alive until we can get to Madam Pomfrey. Hermione, what's wrong?”

“Um,” Hermione swallowed. “Professor? How did you do that? How did you do magic here?”

Harry blinked suddenly and struggled back to his feet. Hermione quickly moved to help.

“Yeah,” he echoed. “How did you?”

“Yes, that... I drew the magic straight from myself, from my vital energy. I had no other choice; you did an admirable job neutralizing all the ambient magic. How did you do that, by the way? I didn't think it was possible.”

“It was a spell that Dumbledore's friend researched-” Harry mumbled distractedly.

“We didn't want to use it because there was a significant chance it would kill Harry,” Hermione cut in.

“That wasn't the big issue,” Harry sighed. “The problem was that it might kill me and still not work. And, evidently, I'm the only one powerful enough to cast it. If it was guaranteed to work, I would have used it right away no matter what the consequences,” Harry plowed on. “But, it was risky, so we saved it as a last resort...”

The look Hermione was giving Harry made it abundantly clear that she did not agree with his perspective at all, but she didn't add anything.

“Wait,” Harry said sharply. “If you could use magic from within yourself, why didn't Voldemort?”

“Because he was afraid, I imagine,” Lupin replied mildly. “You see, there is a very high chance you could die using magic that way. That magic is a very important part of your life force.”

Harry and Hermione stared at Lupin, thunderstruck. Suddenly, however, Harry growled.

“That's it! I'm going to kill him. Now. Before he can cause any more damage.”

Harry's fury lent him strength. Suddenly, somehow, he was holding Gryffindor's sword.

“No,” said Lupin, stepping in front of Harry. “Stop, Harry. This is my task.”

“What are you talking about? Get out of the way!”

“No,” Lupin said firmly. “You told me in your third year that you didn't think your father would want us to become murderers and stopped us from killing Peter. I'm telling you now that James would not want you to become one. I already have blood on my hands. I will do it.”

“But I'm supposed to be the one to kill him... the Prophecy said so!”

“No, it didn't,” Lupin said quietly. “It said you would defeat him. And you did. When you took his powers away he was nothing. Less than nothing. Now, let me finish it.”

Harry stared at him, throat tight, then nodded.

“If you would, please?” Lupin asked politely. Wordlessly, Harry handed over Gryffindor's sword. Without any gloating, or any words at all, without fanfare or pause, without even a change in expression, Lupin thrust it straight through Voldemort's heart. Or tried too. An inch over his chest it stopped as if some barrier lay between the sword and Voldemort. Try as he might Lupin couldn't force it through.

“What the-”

But Harry just nodded his head. Mutely, he reached out and took the sword back from Lupin.

“Harry?” Hermione asked tentatively, still hugging him protectively around the waist.

“It's the prophecy,” he explained, scratching Voldemort lightly with the sword in emphasis. There was no evidence of a barrier. “Only I can kill him.”

“But that's not fair!” Hermione suddenly exploded. “It's not fair at all! This FUCKING prophecy has ruined your whole life! How DARE it ask something like this!”

It was a measure of Hermione's rage that she swore. Harry never never heard her utter one before.

“No, it hasn't,” Harry smiled at her. “I have you.”

Hermione thought she would melt right into the ground at that pronouncement. At the way he could say it so sincerely, and smile so sweetly after everything he had been through.

“It's not fair,” she wept, burying her face in his chest. “It's not right.”

“It's okay, Hermione. A few seconds, and it will all be over.”

He took a deep breath and gently pushed her away.

“Don't look, Hermione,” he said softly. “Don't watch.”

Steeling himself, Harry lifted the sword and completed the thrust that Lupin couldn't. Then, even before the body stopped jerking, he withdrew Gryffindor's and cut the head cleanly off.

“It's over,” he repeated, letting the sword clatter to the ground. Hermione immediately burrowed up under his arm and wrapped herself around him. “Let's go.”

As Harry and Hermione took a few tentative steps, Lupin retreived the sword and Hagrid gently scooped Ron up. After a few seconds, Harry seemed convinced he could move under his own power, or at least with aid from Hermione, and they started walking, leaving the awful memories behind.

“Bloody show-off,” Ron said weakly from Hagrid's arms. Everyone looked over sharply to see Ron watching Harry through one open eye, a painful grin plastered on his face.

“And you get the girl too, you lucky git.”

But Ron was grinning hard as ever, genuine pleasure shining in his eyes.

“Don't worry,” Harry and Hermione said together. “We know just the girl for you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Harry was grinning too. “And just look at you now, you big hero you. You can wow her with the story of how you saved Harry Potter and the Wizarding world with your bare hands. Though I have it on good authority she has already considered you a hero for a while now.”

“Now that's what I like to hear,” Ron chuckled.

“I couldn't have done it without you, mate,” Harry said seriously, choking up a bit. He hobbled over and grasped Ron's hand tightly.

“Damn straight, mate. And don't you forget it, you ungrateful little snot!”

Everyone laughed as they slowly and painfully, but full of burgeoning hope, limped towards a new life.

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