Chapter Twenty
The Final Enchantment
The early afternoon sun was warming what had started out to be a chilly day, and giving encouragement to those plants and animals that had dared to hope that spring was not all that far away after all. Harry, Hermione and Ron appeared beside the old bench seat under the weeping willow, making no sound and hardly disturbing the grass. Across the field the Weasleys home appeared to glow in the yellow sunlight, and all three could see the dumpy form of Molly Weasley as she hung out some washing in the garden making the most of the unexpected warmth. The sound of her happy humming reached the ears of the youngsters and Ron gulped on the thickness that sprang into his throat; Dumbledore was right she had no idea of what was about to happen nor that Arthur would be caught up in the middle of it. Harry looked into the small mirror he carried but only his reflection stared back.
"Only been a few minutes Harry, trust him …look we'd better follow," said Hermione, nodding in the direction of Ron's disappearing figure as he ran over the field toward the house.
"Yes ok," Harry reluctantly returned the mirror to his pocket, and then the two of them set off after their friend.
"What are you doing here? And all dolled up in that silly coat," Molly was saying to Ron. Harry knew the bluster was all bravado, Molly hated seeing them clad in their dragon hide coats, to her it was a very physical reminder that she was losing control of people she still considered children, and of the unknown danger they may find themselves in.
"Time off for good behaviour, Mum," Ron joked, but his humour was forced, and it didn't fool Molly for a moment.
"You've been expelled, haven't you?"
"No Mum."
"Suspended then?"
"NO, honestly we just came by to see if you were ok."
"Oh, well that's alright then," she pursed her lips and gave vent to a suspicious and questioning "Umm?" she obviously didn't believe a word.
"Any lunch going?" Ron asked hopefully, and successfully altering the direction of his mother's train of thought.
"Might have known there was some ulterior motive for your visit," Molly said, grateful that at last she had found one that was reasonable. "There's some pie left over from last night, I'll heat it up for you."
The meal was as usual delicious, and as they sat by the fire in the kitchen and drank their tea Harry wished that this gentle peace and sense that all was well in the world could continue unaffected by events happening elsewhere. For about the tenth time he retrieved the mirror and looked into its glassy surface, but again all he saw was his own reflection looking back out.
"Put it away," Hermione whispered, "it will ring like the other one, I'm sure, …when it is ready." Then Molly came back down the stairs with another load of washing. "On your own Mrs. Weasley," Hermione asked conversationally.
"What, oh yes, Fleur is at St.Mungo's," and Molly leaned close to Hermione as she passed and whispered conspiratorially, "I think there may be another Weasley on the way," then at Hermione's surprised look said, "she hasn't said anything yet but…" and winked. "Tonks was here earlier, but she left, something to do with the Ministry no doubt." Molly dumped the clothes in the sink, whipped out her wand, and made a stirring motion over them, and they automatically began to wash themselves. "Remus and Bill are out in the old shed, almost forgot about them, doing something for Fred and George, so I thought it was best to keep out of their way."
"Getting wise in your old age Mum?" Ron quipped.
"No but I know that when there are circumstances I may not totally approve of, but can do nothing to change, its best to 'go with the flow'," she looked pointedly from Hermione to Harry and back, and Hermione had the grace to blush slightly, "Ginny taught me that phrase."
"Err I think I'll go and see what Remus and Bill are up to," said Harry catching Hermione's eye.
"Me too," she put in hastily.
"I'll stay if you don't mind," Ron wiggled himself deeper into his chair, "too comfortable." Harry and Hermione nodded understanding completely.
The forced normality of the situation at the Burrow was beginning to tell on Harry's nerves, he glanced yet again at the mirror as he and Hermione walked down to the garage. There was a growled "Harry!" from Hermione and he hastily put it away again, sighing heavily as he did so. He could only imagine what was happening in London, would the Brotherhood alert the Ministry and would the Minister alert the muggle Prime Minister, when and where would the Death Eaters strike first. Battle was about to be joined and here he was walking in the country with his girlfriend on his arm, not that it wasn't pleasant, it was just so detached from the reality of the situation. He couldn't help the cry of frustration that escaped his lips and at that sound Hermione pulled him to a stop.
"Look Harry, I know it's hard, but you mustn't get too worked up by the delay," she stood in front of him and passed her fingers through his hair. She seemed to be doing this a lot recently, perhaps it calmed him, it certainly didn't do her any harm; she brushed back his fringe exposing the scar, and lazily ran her finger down its length. Again she felt the tingle in her finger tips, and then she shuddered as a shiver ran through her. "If you go off half cocked and in a tizzy, and land right in front of dear old Tom's Death Eaters, they'll have you for breakfast. We can't just barge in on this fight, Dumbledore said he will tell us when."
"I know love," Harry acquiesced, and some of the tension he was feeling left him. He looked around at the peaceful scene, and they walked on to the shed. "It's just so …so normal," he finished with exasperation.
He reached the small side door to the shed and opened it, and then he stopped dead in his tracks. He stood there, his mouth open in surprise, as he stared into the relative darkness of the inside of the old wooden building. The single lamp hanging from the roof beams, threw its feeble light down onto the most abnormal sight Harry had ever seen. Sitting at a small table, calmly trying to play a game of cards, were two terrifying werewolves.
They appeared to be having some difficulty in holding the cards; their claws were definitely not designed to be used in this way, and like leaves deserting their tree in autumn, cards were continuingly fluttering to the floor. Hermione, seeing this bizarre scene from behind him, pushed passed the immobile Harry and regarded the two fearsome creatures. She struck a Mollyesque pose with her fists planted firmly on her hips.
"Ok, Remus, Bill I hope after all the trouble we went to, to cure you both of this affliction you have an excuse for this?" There was a certain edge of irritation to her voice.
The werewolves smiled at her, it was ghastly, but she stood her ground, then one of them stood and advanced towards her, its movement was menacing and the creature pulled back its lips exposing a frightening array of teeth.
"Hello Hermione," it said, the words were slurred and covered in spit, but recognisable.
"Hello Remus…. Well I'm waiting." Her foot was tapping on the floor with impatience and Harry was convinced that, if Remus didn't answer soon, Hermione was going to start waggling her finger at their ex-Professor.
"Well it wasn't really our idea," garbled Remus.
'Not a good start' thought Harry;
"It was the twins." the Werewolf spat out.
'That does it,' and Harry reached forward and gripped Hermione by the shoulders to steady her. "Calm down," he whispered in her ear. "Let them tell it all before you explode."
The story came out agonisingly slowly, not because it was complicated, but because at times it was very difficult to understand what Remus and Bill were trying to tell them. It boiled down to the fact that Fred and George flushed with the success of the Anti-interlunium potion that had cured the lycanthropy of their brother and friend, had gone back to basics and played about with the original potion Hermione had taken from Greyback. They had stripped it to its core components, refined it, added a few ingredients of their own, and produced the Interlunium Presto potion, the first two doses of which now resided in the stomachs of Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley.
"The transition was completely painless," Remus explained, "and we have retained all our senses, but we expected that."
"I don't think you retained anything at all, you're both out of your minds," Hermione's voice was a bit shrill and both the werewolves winced. "What possible good can come of this, it's insane."
"Well, in this form we are fairly impervious to magic," said Remus.
"And quite strong," put in Bill, and to demonstrate he took hold of the bars of one of the cages that had confined the two of them during the original experiment with the Anti-interlunium potion, and bent them out of shape. "Oh, that could have been embarrassing," he added when he realised what he had done.
"We decided that there could be situations when having us like this would be useful. We thought it was worth the risk, Hermione." Remus added sheepishly.
"Well I don't, anything could have happened," Hermione was really quite upset, she was almost in tears and Harry couldn't understand why. "Harry needs all his friends with him, especially now." She turned from the two surprised werewolves and buried her face in Harry's shoulder, and now Harry understood.
"Things seem to be coming to a bit of a head guys," said Harry, with vast understatement as he comforted Hermione, and he told them what had happened at Spinners End and the little they knew of Voldemort's plans.
"I've heard of this Brotherhood of Merlin but I thought it was ancient history," said Remus, "They must be a very secretive bunch."
"More than you could possibly know," and Harry looked at Hermione who gave a slight nod. "You see, Mr Weasley is one," Harry and Hermione were now possibly the only two people alive who knew what a werewolf in deep shock looked like, as Bill sat down heavily on the seat by the table. "That's not all…" and Harry stared meaningfully at Remus.
"Tonks," he said, and Harry nodded, "Knew there was something going on, but she's been working so hard, it's difficult to know if it was all ministry stuff or not."
"So this is all happening tonight?" asked Bill.
"Yes," Harry sighed, "in London."
"Where?" and Bill clambered to his feet, obviously keen to go.
"Don't know exactly," Harry answered, "And like that I don't think you have any way of getting there."
"You could take me Harry."
"No, I can't, I have orders to stay away," Hermione was looking at him her eyes still damp and questioning, "and for once I am doing as I'm told."
Late in the afternoon Ron ambled over to the shed to see if Harry and Hermione wanted anything to eat, but that thought went completely out of his head when he saw the state of Remus and Bill. However his calm and understanding acceptance of the twins meddling, and the actions of the two cured lycanthropes, nearly set Hermione off again, but Ron knew his brothers well, and now very little they did surprised him anymore.
"Fleur's back by the way." He said, and shook his head at his brother, marvelling at the transformation, "but if you have any sense you will not let her see you like that …how long anyway?" he asked.
"Like this you mean? Twelve hours, possibly twenty four, maybe twenty nine," said Bill.
"What you mean is that you have no idea?"
"No Ron we don't."
Outside the late afternoon slowly turned into evening and as the sky darkened heavy black clouds rolled in from the west. The change in the weather brought with it an oppressive feeling, the others could sense the change, but for Harry the world seemed to be closing in around him, almost shutting him away from everything else. His thoughts turned ever more inward, it was to be tonight, not just the fight between the Death Eaters and the Brotherhood, but the climax of his meetings with Tom Riddle, he just knew it. Tonight they would fight and at least one of them would not survive, it was that simple.
Harry was so preoccupied he didn't notice Ron going over to Hermione, speaking to her, eventually quietly arguing with her, and nearly having to drag her out of the shed. Ten minutes later they were back and Harry hadn't even moved. Hermione was a little red in the face and kept throwing Ron dark looks while she pulled at her coat to make it comfortable again.
No one talked now as the minutes ticked by, and all of them could feel the tension mounting. Remus and Bill, their card game forgotten, sat morosely waiting for the potion to wear off, Hermione and Ron sat on either side of Harry, who stared into space as if he was trying to see all the way to London, to the battle that must by now have been joined. Possibly they would have sat there all night, but from the pocket of Harry's dragon hide coat they suddenly heard an insistent ringing.
* * *
Severus Snape had managed to remain hidden in the depths of the manor's cellar, while above him, the sounds of the Death Eaters making preparations for their departure, kept him in fear of unwanted discovery. Finally the house had fallen silent, after the repeated noise of many apparating witches and wizards had sounded from the floors above, and Severus crept out of his hiding place. The house appeared deserted, even the shuffling and snorting of the troll guarding the main door was absent, and Severus slowly mounted the steps that would lead him back to the servant's passageway and eventually the entrance hall.
The front door was open, the only guard a few wind blown leaves that had scudded across the threshold, but they were not paying any attention to the black cloaked wizard as he turned away and headed into the heart of the mansion. The library and the dining room were as empty as the same rooms at Hogwarts would be in the middle of the summer holidays, but then the Dark Lord had mainly used the grandly titled Morning Room for his entertainments. Severus slowly opened the door, this room like all the others was empty, the bare floor was clean and the only piece of furniture remaining was Voldemort's high backed chair. It was placed as usual at the centre of the ornate mantle that surrounded the unlit fireplace. Behind the chair and above the mantle was an enormous mirror. It had seen better days, around the edges the silvering was showing signs of falling foul to damp; the reflection of the room gave way to coppery tendrils encroaching from under the large carved wooden frame, giving it a diseased appearance.
The ex-potions Professor walked slowly across the room his boots making an unnaturally loud noise on the wooden floor. He stood in front of the chair and stared at it hoping that its very presence would tell him where Draco Malfoy was being hidden.
"Ah Severus," the voice, where there had existed only silence, made Snape jump, and his eyes flash to the mirror, but fast as he was Tom Riddle was even faster. The rope Voldemort conjured wrapped itself around Snape effectively immobilising him, only by chance was his hand in his pocket and holding his wand and only by luck was he able to tap the side of his mirror with his wand, and open the link with Gryffindor tower.
Dumbledore could see nothing but the dark inside of Severus Snape's pocket, and the conversation he could hear was muffled by the coat, but the voices were recognisable none the less.
"So good of you to call, even at this late hour, I was beginning to worry about you." Voldemort mocked his captive. Unable to move Severus continued to stare into the mirror; behind him in the middle of the room, stood Voldemort, his slit like eyes burning red. His bald head and pinched and drawn features, made him appear like a dead man looking for somewhere to lie down. Standing next to the darkest of dark wizards was Draco his face set with an expression of abject fear, and even in the reflection Severus could see that the lad was shaking.
"You have a lot of explaining to do my old friend, but I believe this is what you were looking for," Voldemort continued coldly, indicating the shivering lad by his side. "You see Narcissa told me everything. You would have thought I would have remembered Lily Potter, and the power of the feelings a mother has for her child." he gave Draco an evil look and the young wizard flinched. "It was so easy to break her, a threat here and the application of a spell there and Narcissa couldn't stop talking. She is now," Voldemort pondered a moment, "…ahh, awaiting my pleasure. I have sent her on with her sister and my army for company." He twiddled his wand in his hand. "She actually told me she hated me for what I had done to her family." He shook his head in wonder and there was surprise in his voice.
Voldemort stirred his wand in the air, and Severus was forced to turn and face the wizard who was surely going to kill him.
"Now what do I do with you?" Voldemort asked, and he gave an unconvincing show of indecision. "Even thought it was not your task you did rid me of Dumbledore, but you conspired with others to free Draco from my grasp." Voldemort turned to look down on the snivelling youth, "Is he really worth your life Severus? For that is what it may cost you. I will have to consider your fate, but first I have an appointment with a certain Phoenix, and destiny, and I invite both of you to join me." Voldemort made it sound as if it was an honour, but both Draco and Severus knew it would be far from that.
Voldemort hooked his finger at Severus, who unbidden was compelled to move toward him.
"Tonight my friends," Voldemort said to Draco and Severus, in an unnaturally expansive and conspiratorial fashion. "Tonight is the night I seize power, tonight both the muggle and magical ministries will fall under my control, and I will destroy the phoenix that is hiding Potter, and then I will take from Harry Potter what is rightfully mine."
Hundreds of miles away Dumbledore listened to Voldemort's words relayed by Severus' mirror. He was worried, there was something he was missing, and if Tom did succeed in destroying Fawkes then Harry would be at his mercy and all their plans would fail. That was the other conundrum, why was Tom so keen to kill Harry. Tom still only knew half of the prophecy, he still did not know the danger Harry represented, and yet he wanted Harry dead, to take something from him. What could Harry possibly possess that would be of value to Tom, what did Harry have that no other witch or wizard had? Then as if a brand new torch had just been lit, the idea flashed into his mind, and Dumbledore understood. He was wrong to suggest that Nagini held the final Horcrux; oh so wrong. It was held somewhere much closer to home than that. There was no question in the old man's mind now Harry had to get to the Phoenix first, it was going to be tonight, the end of Tom Riddle or the end of everything else.
* * *
The streets of London were busy; the normal hustle and bustle of muggle activity continued apace. It looked for all the world like a very ordinary evening, but something extraordinary was about to happen. It had taken time for Voldemort's forces to gather, not all of them could apparate, and the giants and the trolls had to come by a very circuitous route. Tight fit though it was the giants had squeezed themselves through one of the many tunnels that ran beneath the city, guided by smaller dark wizards, they reached their goal and the largest of the giants began to force his way to the surface.
The steel grid in the centre of the road began to buckle upwards, there was a sudden screeching of brakes and the loud blaring of a horn as the muggle bus driver fought to avoid the thing that was rising up out of nowhere, right in his path. Fully twenty five feet tall, the emerging giant towered over the double decker bus that had pulled to a stop just missing him. All around traffic had ground to a halt as two more giants, equally the size of the first, emerged, then a general panic ensued, as the muggles in desperation tried to get as far away from whatever was going on as quickly as possible.
Some were not fast enough as the giants began to lay about them with their huge iron banded clubs. The bus was reduced to twisted and broken metal in seconds many of its passengers trapped inside. A few of them were able to see the additional horrors that rose out of the ground. Trolls, five of them, smelling as bad as they looked, they held their ugly stone maces aloft, and used them to great effect in clearing the area. Then men dark cloaked, and masked, spitting multicoloured fire from the sticks that they carried, followed the unnatural creatures out onto the road.
Then the numbers of the dark cloaked men began to swell as comrades appeared out of thin air. Each appearance was preceded by a loud CRACK that sounded to the muggles like gunfire, and now the panic for them was complete. Over one hundred of the followers of Lord Voldemort, three giants, and five trolls, stood on the south side of the river and stared across the bridge at the tall illuminated clock tower. As if to signal the start of the invasion the great bell at its top began to toll.
Voldemort's army, the giants and trolls began their march into the heart of the city. Slowed to the walking pace of the wizards before them, the giants swung their clubs from side to side destroying everything they passed. As they moved up the slight incline onto the bridge that crossed the river, a giant's club smashed down, and the huge gleaming white statue of the South Bank Lion was reduced to rubble. The witches and wizards of the dark, jeered with triumphant voices, as the muggle world was torn to pieces around them.
As Voldemort had promised, the way to the muggle seat of government, and then their own Ministry of Magic, was open to them. The Minister, they knew, had locked himself in with the few Aurors he had managed to call to his aid, their spies had told them so, but these wizards would pose little threat to the course of the night, and as for the muggles, they stood no chance. Then the slow but steady advance faltered, for an unexpected barrier had suddenly appeared in the distance. A line of witches and wizards, two deep, clothed in blue robes, appeared with a single deafening CRACK. They stretched out across the road to bar the forces of Voldemort access to the centre of the capital.
The Brotherhood had waited, hidden, until the place and time of Voldemort's attack was, irrevocably committed, and then they had made their move, apparating in, and standing shoulder to shoulder, this was where they were going to make their stand. The destruction of Voldemort's Death Eaters was all that mattered; it had to be now, tonight, to give the chosen one his chance to face the Dark Lord in equal combat. As had happened before, the members of the Brotherhood of Merlin may not live to see this final meeting come to pass, but they would play their part, and fight to the end.
Dumbledore watched his mirrors, now that battle was about to be joined he could act. He knew where they were now; he had confidence that the Brotherhood would hold the dark forces back, but Voldemort was on his way and they would not be able to stop the man himself.
The old Headmaster knew he had his failings he was not always right and had made some mistakes, but nobody could ever say he was not prepared, at least not this time.
He set in motion plans that he had long devised, he contacted those he knew he could trust, and bade them wait until he called, and then Dumbledore did the hardest job of all that evening, he called his own Parsifal, his own young knight, his own Harry, to send him to meet his destiny, and fulfil the prophecy.
* * *
Harry, his mouth suddenly dry, let the mirror ring in his pocket for the fourth time, then quickly and all of a fumble, he retrieved it to stare at a reflection that was not his own.
"Westminster Bridge Harry," Dumbledore told him, "Tom is after Fawkes but you must get to him first. The Brotherhood will not want you there; for they do not know that you must face Tom tonight. I promise you, help will come." The old man faltered, "And Harry, take my love with you and know that it will be with you always." Then his image faded and the only face that Harry could see was his own.
Harry looked up at the others, they were all staring back, and as he gazed at them the initial fear and trepidation the message from the mirror had produced changed into a fierce resolve to make sure that after tonight Tom Riddle would have no impact on their lives or the lives of anyone else.
"Well you heard the man." Harry said getting to his feet, everyone arose with him, looks of determination on their faces. "Westminster Bridge….." but he didn't finish for at that moment there was a CRACK of someone apparating and Tonks her pink hair a mess and blood from a small cut to her face trailing down to her chin appeared in their midst.
She was reeling from the effects of a glancing blow from a Confundus charm, but her instinct to apparate had probably saved her from something worse "I didn't know what to do for the best," she gasped out and fell into the claws of Remus who very carefully embraced her. "I hoped you were back to normal and could help, but…." Her confusion allowed her to ramble on. "…Voldemort has arrived, and we are not holding them." She stopped suddenly, her senses beginning to return, and she realised that Remus would have no idea what she was talking about. Then she looked around at the company gathered in the garage. None of them seemed surprised by her condition or her cry for help. Remus tried to smile at her and relieve her confusion, but it may not have looked the way he intended, and he only succeeded in dribbling on her shoulder.
"We will come and help," It was Harry not Remus who spoke.
"No Harry, you of all wizards should not be there; not tonight." Tonks said adamantly.
Harry stood before her and placed a hand on each shoulder, feeling the slimy wetness under his right hand, and held her at arms length. "Actually it is essential that I am there tonight, and neither you, nor the whole of the rest of The Brotherhood of Merlin is going to stop me." As he spoke it appeared to those with him in that rickety old shed that he began to grow in stature. Harry Potter took on the mantle of his destiny and it fitted him as well as his black dragon hide coat.
They apparated away together without a sound, and a hundred and fifty miles to the east a strange little group of two wizards, two witches and two werewolves, snapped into existence in a quiet corner of Parliament Square. There was not a muggle witch or wizard to be seen, but from not very far away the sounds of a titanic battle raged.
"Where is everyone?" said Ron "I would have thought the place would be crawling with muggles."
"Most of the muggles ran away when the giants appeared." said Tonks. "We did tell the muggle Prime Minister was earlier today when we knew what was likely to happen, but he didn't believe us. We suggested he use a terror alert to clear the centre of London," said Tonks, as a stray reductor curse sped down Whitehall hitting a set of traffic lights and blowing them to pieces. "At least no one could have accused him of telling lies this time, she added wryly.
"Everyone must be up on the bridge," said Harry, "Dumbledore said I have to get to Fawkes so we better get going. Have you finished yet Hermione?"
"Almost," she replied putting the last bit of tape on Bills arm securing his wand there just in case the potion wore off. "And remember Bill, and you to Remus, find a cloak if you do change back because you left all your clothes at the Burrow."
The two werewolves grinned at each other and then, with them in the lead, the group left the safety of the square and turned toward Westminster Bridge. The sight that met their eyes was one of total chaos.
In the centre of the bridge two groups of witches and wizards, the black and the blue, were facing each other firing spells back and forth. Many spells and curses were deflected or absorbed by hastily produced shield charms but a few of the more powerful or deadly struck home and the crumpled forms of the victims could be seen on both sides of the battle. Harry could see on the far side of the bridge the towering forms of three giants that blocked the roadway completely, they stood there roaring challenges and swinging their ugly looking clubs banded with great iron rings. In front of the giants were five trolls at least as big as the one Harry and Ron had fought in their first year, the stone maces they carried were as every bit as menacing as the clubs of the giants.
The massed legion of Voldemort's Death Eaters out numbering the Brotherhood two to one was slowly pushing them back towards the parliament side of the bridge, and it was not only the numbers on the dark side that was beginning to tell. There was a bright green flash amongst the horde of the dark above the spot where Voldemort had apparated into their midst. The green glow didn't fade but expanded outwards and upwards as it formed itself into the Dark Mark. The grinning green skull the mark of the Dark Lord gave encouragement to the Death Eaters and despair to the Members of the Brotherhood.
Into this mess marched Harry and his small band, unseen by Voldemort who urged his followers to close on the Brotherhood, they moved between the ranks of the blue robed witches and wizards then met, with the others, the onslaught of the Death Eaters.
Spells of varying colours flashed out of the massed ranks of the Death Eaters as they ran forward. Many were ineffectual, but the few killing curses used smashed through shields, witch and wizard alike, to leave only death behind them. Fire was returned from the ranks of the blue and although lighter it was more accurate and the spells used better applied. The Brotherhood did stop a significant number of Death Eaters in their tracks, but the struggle was unequal and the Brotherhood had to give ground.
Then leaping high over the retreating wizards, two terrifying nightmares landed amongst the Death Eaters and letting the beast within them free Remus and Bill began to deal out a bit of death of their own. Slashing claws and rending teeth deprived several of Voldemort's followers of their lives, and persuaded far more than that, that they didn't want to join them.
The three dressed in their black dragon hide coats were caught in the press of the blue robed Brotherhood, having to retreat with them and unable to fight. Harry began to feel the frustration build in him. He stopped his now backward march and Ron and Hermione stopped with him. Dumbledore had told him to get to Fawkes but the phoenix was nowhere to be seen, so Harry pictured the bird in his mind and called out to him. There was an answering cry, and the sound of phoenix song filled the air, the burst of golden light as the phoenix appeared pushed back the darkness of the night and turned it into day. Harry gazed at the wonderful sight as Fawkes swooped and soared above the battle, and in answer to an unspoken command Harry raised his wand high above his head
The instant that Voldemort saw the phoenix he began to move forward himself, bringing the giants and trolls with him, by his side Draco and Severus Snape still bound tight, were forced to follow. He had reached the centre of the bridge when to his chagrin he watched as the phoenix soaring above the battle burst into flame and vanished, but then his vision fell on something else a young man dressed in black, and he began to laugh in triumph.
Harry stared upwards at the beautiful bird, now hovering above him, the sound of the most wonderful song in the world filled his head, the wand in his hand was thrumming with the power of the phoenix, and then Fawkes burst into flame. The fiery bird flew up, high into the dark sky, and then dived straight for Harry, but he did not hit him. As Fawkes' fire struck the tip of Harry's upraised wand it flowed into the holly shaft held so tightly in Harry's hand, but it didn't stop there. The energy coursed through Harry's arm and his body filling him with a magic so powerful that Harry himself began to glow.
Harry could feel the magic swell inside him; it suffused every tiny bit of his being with light. Everything he had ever learned, and far more, was instantly available to him now, there was no indecision, but there was one thing, something small and dark, that was trying to hold him back. Harry knew that this intruder had lived with him for as long as he could remember; part of him, but not part of him. Now with the fire of Fawkes the phoenix racing around his body there was no room for this trespasser, and with a scream of rage that only Harry could hear it was ejected. At that moment the scar on Harry's forehead exploded with almost unbearable pain.
Hermione was staring at Harry, she saw the fire disappear into him, but in seconds, her elation at the gift from the phoenix, turned to horror as Harry grasping at his forehead and screaming in pain collapsed on to the road. As he lay there his hand fell away, and Hermione could see his scar, now red and livid, it writhed and twisted, not so much like the bolt of lightening it had always seemed before, but with the sinuous movement of a snake. Then it burst open along its length, but no blood welled up to run down onto the road. As with the book, the ring, the cup, the locket and Pettigrew's silver hand, the ghost of the most powerful of dark wizards was freed. So it was that the final enchantment was broken and the last resting place of Voldemort's soul was revealed. The shade of the Dark Lord imprisoned unintentionally inside Harry Potter all those years ago, by the most evil of acts, was driven out.
Hermione was at his side in an instant, the seemingly unending stream of dark smoke that had produced the other shades of Voldemort was still pouring from the open wound on Harry's forehead. Hermione held him as Harry writhed in pain on the cold tarmac of the road surface. Then as the smoke thinned, and eventually stopped, the pain receded, and Harry became quiet and still. Hermione cried out in despair as she looked down on her unresponsive boyfriend, then his eyelids flickered and his eyes opened. The green of his eyes was the brightest she had ever seen, but surrounding this intense colour the rest of his eyes were suffused with a deep golden hue which pulsed and glowed with a light of its own. The power of the Phoenix still coursed through Harry's body, a body that was now entirely free from the Dark Lord and prepared to face his destiny.
Despite the furious battles that were going on around them time stood still for the chosen one and his mate, Harry stared into Hermione's calm brown eyes, she knew that she could lose him, but she believed that she would not, and with that one look and the slightest nod of her head she released him, and standing he turned to face Voldemort.
The sight which he beheld was not that which he expected. Not ten yards from him the rapidly solidifying form of the Dark Lord's shade stood tall and cloaked in black much more real than the other shades had appeared. Behind the spectre, with Draco and Snape at his side was Voldemort, his nose-less face fixed on the apparition that had erupted from Harry's scar. Voldemort's initial laugh of triumph and expression of success at the sight of Harry Potter now within his grasp, had change to silence and a look of uncertainty, as the final Horcrux that was no Horcrux was broken by the power of the phoenix.
The Dark Lord waited as his surroundings wavered from insubstantial wisps of tattered smoke into the solidness of Westminster Bridge and the witches and wizards on it. He could feel his power returning, hard and raw the power was but it was incomplete, something was missing he was not yet whole. There were two sources of energy he could feel, that could fill the void and make him complete, and his eyes sought them out. Close by was a youth clad in a dull black coat, standing it seemed unaffected by the war going on around him. The Dark Lord was drawn to this boy, but also repelled by an ancient magic that was forcing him away. He turned instead to the second source, it emanated from the group standing, now isolated, in the centre of the bridge. It was the tall man in the centre that the Dark Lord focused his attention on, deformed he may be, but the same attraction that he had found in the youth was there in this creature as well.
On the night Peter Pettigrew had mixed the brew that returned Voldemort to the wizarding world, he had used the blood of an enemy forcibly taken. He could have used almost any wizard to provide this but on Voldemort's direction had used blood from the one person that really should have been left out of the mix. By using Harry's blood the seed for potential disaster had been sown. At the time Dumbledore may not have known the way it would play out in the end, but he knew it was a mistake, and it had given him hope.
And now the consequences of that mistake were revealed.
The shade of the Dark Lord could not decide if he should go to Voldemort or to Harry and choosing one over the other would forever seal the choice. So he would not give, he would take, he could not take the power from Harry, not yet, but he could take it from Voldemort and then with his power increased he would have the chance of having them both.
The Dark Lord, the embodiment of Lord Voldemort at his most powerful, snatched away by the rebounding Avada Kedavra curse, began to reach out, and rather than surrender to Tom Riddle he started to search for a way to consume the magic he possessed.
Tom Riddle, Voldemort, the reconstituted wizard, could feel the power of his old self reaching out, not to join with him, but to pull him to his knees. The compulsion to give in was tremendous, but he resisted, this was not the way it should be, the contents of the final Horcrux, the greatest part of what used to be Voldemort, held in Harry by the enchantment that had sealed the boy's destiny, should be bowing down to him, and not he Tom subservient to it.
The deformed face of Tom Riddle was creased in effort and he cried out, "NO, I will not let you, you are mine, come to me."
But the Dark Lord did not bow to the command, a black shadow flickered around the being and he extended an arm and beckoned with one finger and Voldemort took one hesitating step forward.
Harry, full to the brim with the power that Fawkes had bestowed upon him stood implacably with his friends near him observing the fight between Tom and the shade with some detachment. The first frightening thought that he was going to have to face two Voldemorts was fading, some titanic struggle was waging back and forth between the twin incarnations of the darkest of wizards, and Harry was loathe to interrupt. The encroaching tide of dark forces began to drive Ron, Hermione and the others away from Harry leaving him alone, but no dark wizard turned on him. Perhaps it was that finally the Death Eaters realised that Harry was Voldemort's prey alone, or maybe it was that Harry was surrounded by a faint but discernable golden glow that deflected the odd stray spell or curse, that passed by too close, up in to the air to disperse harmlessly. With the main fighting now moving behind him Harry concentrated all his attention on the Dark Lords and fortunately did not witness what happened next.
Bellatrix Lestrange had lost sight of her charge in the confusion of the meeting with the Brotherhood, but Narcissa had no wand and would be easy to find afterward assuming she survived of course. Voldemort's second in command marked the pair dressed in dragon hide, Hermione and Ron fighting side by side were unaware of her attention as they dispatched a wizard with the combined use of an "Expelliarmus" and a "Reducto" which effectively disarmed him and broke both his legs at the same time. The dark witch drew back her wand and mustering all the hate at her command fired a curse straight at Hermione. The red streak closed on the young woman so rapidly, that neither she, nor Ron, had time to react. The curse smashed into Hermione's chest shredding the black dragon hide as if it was so much parchment, and the girl cried out in surprise and pain as she was thrown backwards. Hermione was lifted off her feet to crash to the ground by the bridge wall her limbs askew, blood trickling from her mouth, and a smoking hole in the front of her coat.
Despite his horror, there was no time to stop and check, Ron knew he could not help Hermione any more, he just hoped he had done enough. Harry was facing up to Voldemort and was way past needing him, so now the only way Ron felt he could repay his debt to his best friends was to do his best and take as many of the enemy with him as he could, and he would start with Bellatrix.
With a yell of rage Ron ran directly at Draco's aunt, he fired any spell that came to mind as he ran, but in his rage his aim was not good. Both the wizards standing on either side of Bellatrix fell writhing to the ground under Ron's assault, but the witch herself was unharmed, and the spell she returned caught Ron just above his hip tearing through his coat and his side. He had gained considerable momentum in his run across the bridge and the force of the spell spun him up into the air and he sailed over the low parapet and then plunged towards the dark waters of the Thames some thirty feet below. His last sight of Bellatrix was a view of her face as it turned from one of ecstatic triumph to one of absolute horror, then the darkness swallowed him and Ron never felt or heard the splash as he hit the water.
The eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange stared skywards but they saw nothing, at least not anymore. The last image burned into the back of them was of the ghastly sight of teeth and fangs as Remus Lupin closed his werewolf mouth around her throat, and ripped the life from her. Remus reared back on his distorted legs and raised his muzzle to the night and howled. A howl not of triumph but one of pain and despair for his fallen friends and it rang across the water and the deserted streets of London and those muggles that heard it shivered in their shoes, and wondered what it meant. The sound faded, replaced by the sobs of a man crouched over the remains of an evil witch, for Fred and George's potion had finally worn off and Remus the man had returned. He pulled the blood soaked robe from Bellatrix's shoulders to cover his nakedness, and retrieving his wand from where Hermione had strapped it to his arm turned to see what help he could be.
* * *