A Promise to Keep

A Promise to Keep

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction now would I? They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros.

A/N: This is my first one shot fic, so please read and review. I would greatly appreciate it! I first uploaded this back in July 2003, but later edited some pieces in December 2003.

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It's hard to imagine that just three years ago, his life had completely turned around. It was the end of innocence. A new beginning. Now, Harry Potter had lost almost everything to Lord Voldemort and his plight. But not everything. He still had his two friends. The ones who had stuck with him through thick and thin. They outright refused to be left behind. They were all that he had left. His strength rested not in himself, but in Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

His thoughts drifted back through the past three years and the damage that had been done. There were so many people lost. Cedric Diggory. A boy who always valued fair play and honesty. Harry had always been consumed with guilt whenever he thought about his Triwizard competitor, whom, in his opinion, deserved to win. Sirus Black. He began to feel a prickling feeling from the corners of his eyes. He wasn't afraid to cry anymore. Warm tears trickled down the side of his pale, livid face when thinking of his godfather, whom had always seemed a mixture of a brother and father. His death had caused him to wallow in a near comatose state. There were times when he couldn't see where he was going. He couldn't hear the other students calling out to him. He couldn't feel his own tears that flowed freely just after exiting Dumbledore's office that very morning.

That summer brought about a hailstorm upon not just the wizarding world, but the Muggle one as well. Disappearances, mysterious deaths and illnesses. And however much Harry felt saddened by the chaos within the world, nothing quite hit home to him. That is until the attack in Little Winging. Even now, he could still hear the screams rattling in his memory of that night. Houses were being demolished and destroyed every which way. The fire emitting from many of them, was permenantly etched into Harry's mind. As if he could ever forgot it.


Flashback
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A bloodcurdling scream pierced the usually calm, clear night on Privet Drive. Harry sat up bolt right in his bed, clutching at his scar in pain. His ears were now pounding and his forehead felt as if it would spontaneously combust any moment now. His eyes screwed up tightly, he couldn't see the commotion that was being raised outside.

Clothed in black and masked to hide their features, Death Eaters were making their way through Privet Drive causing hell. But, this wasn't the normal band of a dozen or so. Hardly the case. This was an organized group of fifty violent and angry Death Eaters. They tore through houses, clearly not giving a damn about the International Statue of Secrecy. As if they would care.

Downstairs in 4 Privet Drive, loud hammering and banging could be heard. Harry grit his teeth, still in pain, and put on his glasses. His heart was beating faster with every bang on the door. How, in the name of Merlin, am I supposed to get out of this situation. He thrust open his closet where he kept all of his belongings. His wand was hanging limply from within the pocket of his robes. Without hesitation, he grabbed it. Well, no use bothering with the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. After all, what's the use of expelling me when I'm already dead?

He could hear the door finally push through and several voices could now be heard from downstairs. An icy cold sensation passed through his entire body. He tapped his trunk with his wand, muttering a simple spell. If I am dead, at least my friends can have the pick of my belongings. Even while jesting with himself, Harry felt queasy with weariness. The bottom stair creaked. They were heading upstairs! Rustling from the next room could be heard. No doubt, the noise awoke Uncle Vernon. He had always been a light sleeper. It was only when his thoughts began resting on his relatives that he really began to panic. What about the Dursleys! They can't defend themselves against magic. Brilliant, Harry. Why didn't you think of this before!

"Listen," whispered a vaguely familiar voice. "I want our orders to be clear. Potter must be kept alive. Do you hear me? Or else we'll have hell to pay later, let me assure you!"

"But, what about the others?" drawled a silky, smooth voice. "The Dark Lord never said anything about them. Are they to be kept alive as well."

"Of course not, you git," said the first voice once more. "Killed. Same as the other Muggles. We'll leave no witnesses."

"Except for Potter."

"Potter won't be alive much longer to tell anyone else, you hear me? Now, let's get this over with!"

The door to Harry's right flew open. He could hear Aunt Petunia shriek with fright.

"Say, you lot!" Uncle Vernon tried to say in a menacing voice, but clearly the tactic was not working. Before he could let out another word, the first voice shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A vivid green light flashed through the bottom of Harry's door. The entire house was shaking due to the effects of Vernon Dursley dropping dead with a sickening crash beside his wife, who lay shrieking with wide eyes. Harry knew it wouldn't be long before Petunia Dursley felt the effects of the infamous curse. And sure enough, he could hear another thud, this time much lighter shake the foundations of the house.

Without wasting another breath, Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak that was hanging from his coat rack. He had inherited this priceless gem from his late father. He grabbed his trusty Firebolt racing broom from his closet that he kept hidden. Mounting his broom, he couldn't help but feel ashamed for what he was about to do. He was never one to flee from the scene. He liked to face death head-on. Fighting for his life spared him from the monotony that usually plagued him every summer up until now. Not to mention the fact that he simply left the Dursleys to die. They never had a chance in the first place, Harry thought. I couldn't protect all three of them, not to mention myself, from several Death Eaters! I always knew they would come to a sticky end, he thought, but felt a bit disgusted with himself for even thinking of such thoughts.

Another booming crash rattled throughout the house. Dudley. Now there was nothing left. Harry stood transfixed to the ground before he realized the full extent of the situation at hand. Footsteps were now edging closer to the door as he fastened his cloak even tighter around him, so as not to fall off. The doorknob jiggled a bit. I'd never thought I'd say this but...got to hand to Uncle Vernon for putting all of those locks on my door. He stepped up his desk, which stood in front of his window. One by one, the locks were being picked off. Harry's heart was now racing to it's full extent. With a slight push out the window, Harry was now sitting in midair atop his broomstick.

The door finally burst through. He could see what appeared to be 7 masked figures now occupying his bedroom. He glided further away from them, but just enough so that he would be able to hear what they were saying. One of them was gesticulating loudly and pointing to the open window that Harry had flown through.

"The window!" he shouted! "Bloody hell! How are we going to find him now, Malfoy? This was your plan."

Harry grinned at the thought of outsmarting a bunch of Death Eaters, especially at the displeasure of Lucius Malfoy. However, one look down the street changed his emotions drastically. It looked no longer like a street, but like a war-zone. Houses were burnt to the ground. Bodies were strewn across every which way. Everywhere Harry turned, the Dark Mark was illuminating through his glasses. He looked upwards and his eyes settled on the luminescent skull directly above 4 Privet Drive. His heart twisted when he saw it. He felt a strange feeling of deja vu. One that he couldn't shake. And for the first time in Harry Potter's life, he broke down and cried silently over the Dursleys.

True, they had physically and emotionally scarred Harry, but they did take him in none-the-less. He felt as every bit as ungrateful as Uncle Vernon said he was. He groaned at the thought of growing up in a Muggle orphanage. Would he have suffered the same fate as Tom Riddle? How ironic that would have been...


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End Flashback

He could never forget the looks on everyone's faces when Harry showed up at 12 Grimmauld Place that night. They appeared to be relieved, seeing as how many had already thought him dead. Mrs. Weasley sobbed and fussed over him so much, he thought for a moment of being a bit claustrophobic. Ron and Hermione were both there as well. How could they not be. His thoughts lingered as he remembered his conversation that night with Hermione.

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A soft knock rapped at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Harry stepped into the high-ceiling room that Hermione shared with Ron's younger sister, Ginny. "Hermione?" he whispered. He wasn't sure how late it was, only that he had hardly fell asleep. No matter how hard he tried, every time he would close his eyes, a pair of snakelike eyes were gleaming back at him glowing a grotesque blood red. That, and the fact that Ron was snoring as loud as a lawnmower. He felt that Hermione would understand the need for him to speak to her.

"Harry!" she gasped in surprise. She was sitting in bed, her covers drawn up to her waist while writing something in a pocket-sized book. She quickly stuffed it under her pillow as he neared her. "What is it?"

"I-er-" he stammered, unable to find the words to say.

She gestured him to sit down at the foot of her bed. He glanced over for a moment at Ginny, who was sleeping as soundly as Harry wished he was. "Harry? Is this about the Dursleys?" Her voice became strangely high-pitched and edgy as if it were causing her great trouble to talk.

He nodded slowly. "I don't understand it, Hermione! I've hated them all my life. I've wished every sort of death and torture upon them and yet I feel sad when those things do happen.” He put his head down in his hands and took a shuddering breath.

She placed a comforting arm around him, unsure of what else to do. He looked into her face, which seemed much more pale than usual. Her brown eyes gave off such a feeling of warmth that he found it hard not to look away. "I was wondering when you would talk to me," said Hermione in a voice barely above a whisper.

"You knew I was coming?" he asked, a bit surprised that Hermione knew him that well.

"Of course. After what happened earlier this summer-" She broke off. She couldn't bring herself to talk about it. But it was Harry. The mere fact that it was him she was spilling her heart to made it perfectly all right.

"I never got the chance to say how sorry I am about that, Hermione," he muttered, knowing indeed what she was about to refer to. "It's all my fault what happened. To the Dursleys, your mum and dad...everyone."

She shuffled a bit in her bed. Peering deep into Harry's face she said, "It wasn't your fault, Harry. Nothing could have stopped what happened. Not you nor I. Don't you ever blame yourself for anything that V-Voldemort has done. Do you hear me? Don't wallow in sorrow for something that you never caused in the first place, Harry, because I don't blame you one bit. You're my best friend. You always will be. So is Ron. Nothing can break that between us. Not even death."

Harry couldn't look away from her face that held such a fierce passion that he had never seen before. He nodded once more, unsure of what to say. "I have no one, Hermione."

She forcibly shook him by the shoulders. "No, Harry! You have me. You have Ron and the Weasleys. The Order. You're not alone and you never will be. Even until that final battle, we'll be by your side. Including me."

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And now that time has come. That was all Harry had left. Ron and Hermione. The Order was gone...the Weasley's were deceased, except for Ron. Strangely, Hermione was correct. She always has to be right, doesn't she?, he couldn't help but think. He smiled the first smile that he had felt in ages. How could he be smiling at a time like this? His face quickly retained his rigid form once more. However, he couldn't help but smile when thinking of all the times that Hermione had been correct. He could hardly keep track of them all. Harry often vaguely wondered why she hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw. She's smarter than the whole lot of them. If she was a Ravenclaw, we wouldn't be as close friends as we are now. He shook out his reverie and stuffed his wand in the inside pocket of his Hogwarts robes.

It was now past midnight. Now was the time to leave if any. He looked at Ron, now sleeping unknowingly in his four-poster bed. I'm sorry, Ron, he thought desperately. I have to get to him first before he gets to you...or Hermione. He couldn't bring himself to wake him up and personally say a goodbye to him. The same goes for Hermione. If he saw their faces, knowing that he was walking towards death, he wouldn't have the heart to leave them.

Harry pulled two pieces of parchment from within his robes. He placed one of them on Ron's beside table. That was the easy part. The tricky part was getting Hermione's letter to her. Hedwig! he thought jovially. He called out for Hedwig, who flew through the open window and perched herself on the beside table .

"I need you to take this to Hermione, all right, Hedwig," he whispered as the owl hooted softy. He stroked her feathers gently. "Leave it somewhere close. Goodbye, Hedwig."

The owl stretched out her wings and took off in flight towards the girl's dormitories. With a resounding sigh, he gently pushed open the door and walked down the narrowing, spiral staircase. He stood in the dark Gryffindor common room. Everywhere he turned came memories of the three of them plotting the next great adventure or Hermione nagging at them to finish their homework. He'd never have another moment like that.

Hermione would brandish me if she heard me thinking like this. She'd always say there was hope. Even with all that's bad in the world, there is still some good. He choked back something near the back of his throat. His eyes became strangle prickly all of a sudden and the corners began to well up. Bloody hell, why am I so emotional all of a sudden? He bit his lip in frustration and walked out of the portrait hole. Harry pulled out his trusty Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes. In one swift movement, he thrust it over him and fastened it tightly.

Walking ever so slowly, so as not to awaken anyone, he walked through the quietly eerie castle. Hogwarts brought so much warmth an comfort, but now it was just a constant reminder of how many lives were destroyed. That blackness covered the castle in so much despair that one would think a smile would be prohibited by school regulations. The echoes of his footsteps resounded throughout the halls. Harry slowed his pace a bit and continued.

No matter how much he fought it, his thoughts always lingered on Hermione and Ron. He couldn't bear to even imagine the look of horror on Hermione's face if they were to figure out that he was no longer alive. She was always the one coaxing him to be reasonable, logical, and rational. And he wasn't heeding her pleas. His stomach dropped a few inches. If I make it out of this predicament, I'll be sure to give her a million apologies. He remember those times when his brash attitude paid off...and those times when he suffered for it. In his fifth year, in the Department of Mysteries, he need for heroics almost spent the lives of his friends and many in the Order of the Phoenix. His head filled with dismay and worry when he saw Hermione drop to the floor unconscious. How he wanted to dismember every limb from Antonin Dolohov's body. She always told him that it wasn't his fault, but that spell had caused her permanent damage for the rest of her life. When she was too excited or when her emotions were on overdrive, she would often feel a sharp bolt of pain in her chest. Madam Pomfrey told her that she will have that scar for the rest of her life. That makes two of us.

For a split second he thought he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around quickly, but there was nothing there. Harry shrugged the feeling off that someone was following him and sped up, not caring that his footsteps were echoing even louder. He pried open the heavy wooden doors and exited the only place that he called home. With a glance around him, he slipped off the cloak and folded it neatly back into his robes. He stood there for a moment, taking in a last look at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How he would miss this place. And his friends. He shuddered as he felt the cool night air blow against his face. It was extremely cold tonight. Unusually cold, in fact. He was hesitant about it, but he turned away and faced the dreary blackness of the Forbidden Forest. Harry was too busy contemplating his next move, that he had hardly noticed the soft creak of the entrance doors.

A hand grasped him gently on his right shoulder. Harry received such a shock that he nearly jumped a few feet in the air. He clumsily lost his balance and fell hard on the ground. He looked up at whose hand that might of been, scared to even know the answer.

It was Hermione.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry!" she whispered frantically. She held her hand out for him to grasp. "Are you all right?"

He held on to her hand as he pulled himself up. "I've felt better," he admitted. He had been knocked so hard to the ground, that it took him a moment to register in his mind what was going on. "Hermione, what are doing here?" he asked in a strangely stiff manner.

"I-er," she muttered, shuffling her feet a bit. "I got your letter." A gust of wind blew through the area, causing Hermione to pull her cloak around her. "I couldn't sleep," she said before he could speak. "I saw Hedwig fly in not too long ago. I wanted to see you, Harry."

Harry noticed that her eyes were bloodshot and her face was red and moist. He felt his stiffness ebbing away when he saw her eyes began to water at the corners. "Don't think that I didn't want to see you, because I did. I need to do this on my own and get it over with. Even if it means death, at least everyone will be safe and that's all that matters to me. If I had seen your face, knowing that you didn't want me to leave, I don't think I could leave. Every minute I stand here talking to you makes it even harder for me to leave."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Neither of them were aware of the fact that they still held each other's hands tightly.

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. His head became strangely light-headed. Better late then never, a voice told him knowingly in his thoughts. He stepped closer to her. "I love you, Hermione." He felt as if poison had been extracted from his soul. A deep secret that had been lying there for ages, waiting for the right time to be revealed.

Now it was Hermione's turn for a shock. Her mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts and not one of them were intelligible. She couldn't bring himself to looking into his bright, green eyes, for one look at them and she would melt into oblivion. But her impulses were saying something quite differently. She looked up at him, with such on odd expression that Harry frowned a bit.

"Say something, Hermione," he whispered. "Anything."

"Harry, I-" she paused. Hermione didn't quite know how to put her feelings into words, because she's not the type of girl that would tell the world how she feels. "I don't know what to say exactly." Harry felt her hand shaking a bit in his palm, but he couldn't tell if that was a good sign or one of complete and utter disaster. "Except that-I-I-love you too."

Harry felt a warm feeling of glowing relief and happiness spread through his entire body. "I thought I was the only one. You never did seem too interested in anybody else except for Krum...and perhaps Ron."

"Ron?" she asked in surprise. "Vice versa more like, Harry. I'd thought you'd figure that out before. I talked to him about it last year while you were in the hospital wing for so long. Why do you think he avoided us for a few weeks?"

He did remember that awkward occasion, but had never quite figured out what the matter was with Ron. When Ron had began speaking to them again, he did notice a slight change in the relationship between Ron and Hermione. Of course they still bickered occasionally, but he never once asked about Viktor Krum, not even when she brought up his name. How could Harry have been so blind not to see it? How could he have been so blind not to notice Hermione, even through all her silent pleas for his attention?

"I guess I never thought about it before," he said. He hung his head back and stared at the brightening stars in the deep night sky. "Could I have been more stupid not to notice?"

"Well," Hermione said hesitantly, "with Ron it's-"

But Harry cut her off gently, "No. Could I have been so stupid not to notice you when you were right in front of me?" He looked at her once more, and Hermione could feel the energy emitting from his vivid eyes.

"You know what they say about love being blind," said Hermione softly, the wind almost capturing her words. She inched a bit closer to him. "I love you, Harry. I always have. It just takes a few things to realize what you truly have. You don't you what you have until it's gone and I don't want that to mean us. I know what I have now and you're going to come back. And if you don't, I'll personally curse V-Voldemort into oblivion." She smirked.

Harry laughed nervously. How could he leave now, knowing what he would be missing if he was to fail? They were now so close that both of them could feel each other's heat.

"You can defeat him, I know you can," she said reassuringly. "You're a great wizard, you know." She smiled even wider this time, making Harry's stomach jump in leaps and bounds.

"I'm not as good as you," he said, fondly recalling a moment from when they were only eleven. Now they were seventeen, they've come of age. "I can't believe we still remember that, Hermione. That was so long ago, and now-"

Hermione put a finger to his lips gesturing him to be silent. For a moment he felt as if she had heard something rustling in the distance. Perhaps someone was watching them! But all thoughts of Voldemort flew out of his mind once she rested her lips upon his. Harry's eyes widened in shock while his heart pounded against his chest. But he relaxed once he felt Hermione's still shaking hand. She was just as nervous as he was. He felt a bit reassured.

She hesitantly pulled away from him and rested her forehead against his. Their minds were racing. Could this possibly be happening. Had I just kissed one of my best friends? both of them seemed to be thinking. Harry pulled his head down closer and whispered in her ear, "I'll see you soon, Hermione. Really soon. I promise." And he sealed his last words with another soft kiss. He squeezed her hand gently once more looking at her now tear streaked face. He looked towards the Forbidden Forest and made his way towards his impending fate.

A Promise to Keep

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction now would I? They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros.

A/N: OK, I simply had to continue the story. It didn’t feel complete to me and I hate it when other authors leave cliffhangers. So, here is the second and final chapter of my fic. Beware, it is a long chapter.

Thanks to: Jere for being a great friend and my beta-reader. Jack for putting me in one of your fics(hehe). The entire Wonky crew as well as my HOAF staff. And my best bud Christina for hounding me on getting this done.

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His scar prickled intensely with every forced step that he took. He narrowed his brilliant green eyes in pain as he clasped his free left hand to his forehead. His other hand was grasping his wand tightly, which was lighting a path through the dark and eerie Forbidden Forest. 17-year-old Harry Potter was used to pain. In fact, he was quite accustomed to it by now. However, that didn’t make it desirable to easy to experience. In some ways, his unusual lightning bolt-shaped scar comes in handy. For instance, on this cold and dreary night, he was using it to lead him to Lord Voldemort, a lucid wizard who had haunted his life since he was only an infant but ruthlessly murdering his parents 16 years ago.

A few moments ago, the prospect of dueling with Voldemort was driven far from his mind. He had finally admitted to himself that he was in love with his best friend Hermione Granger. Moreover, he also shared this long coming revelation with her at that very same moment. His stomach was jumbling unpleasantly during the pronouncement. He believed with near certainty that Hermione was sure to turn him down. To his great surprise, she did exactly the opposite. His heart had felt lighter than air. He envisioned himself in that same predicament. Several times, in fact, but with more romantic imagery than what had actually transpired.

Harry began to force himself to stop thinking about Hermione. But it proved to be more difficult than he thought. Hadn’t he learned anything from his Occlumency lessons? Clearing his mind was one step. But every single emotion that he had felt in his life was pulsating throughout his entire body now. He didn’t quite know what to feel. All he knew was that he had to reach Voldemort before Voldemort could claim another innocent victim.

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The icy wind whipped through Hermione’s busy brown hair. She stood outside the sweeping Hogwarts grounds until the shadowy form of Harry was no longer visible. She heaved a great sigh and turned on her heel. She pulled on the Invisibility Cloak and marched back into the castle with an air of determination. She broke into a run towards Gryffindor Tower, not caring if her steps were heard or not. She wanted to reach Ron as fast as her legs could take her. She hardly took notice that it was after midnight.

When Hermione finally stepped into the portrait hole, she was clutching a pain in her side. Physical vitality was never her strongest point. She climbed up the spiral staircase towards the boy’s dormitories. She quietly slipped into the room so as not to alert Neville, Seamus, or Dean to her presence. Certainly Hermione would have had to answer a lot of awkward questions. Besides, the situation was suspicious enough with Harry missing.

“Ron!” she whispered loudly. She thrust back his four-poster bed curtains and began prodding Ron. He wouldn’t budge an inch.

Hermione took out her wand from the inside of her robes and muttered, “Lumos.” A soft light burst from the end of her wand illuminating the room in a warm, dim aura.

She pushed him gently. “Ron, get up,” she said. With a glance, she spotted and unopened letter upon his bedside table addressed to him in Harry’s writing. She felt her insides flutter uncomfortably.

“Hermione?” said Ron sleepily.

Hermione turned out quickly. Ron was now sitting up in his bed, rubbing his eyes frantically. She sighed a sigh of relief.

“Where’s the fire?” he asked jokingly, smiling slightly. His smile subsided when he looked upon Hermione’s grief stricken face. “What’s wrong?” he asked more seriously this time.

“Harry left,” she stated simply, pointing towards the empty bed and handing over Ron’s letter from Harry.

Ron’s head jerked to glance at Harry’s bed, confirming Hermione’s statement. He took the letter and hastily opened it, afraid of what the letter contained. His eyes widened in horror and shock upon scanning the letter. Once he had finished, he dropped the letter and looked into Hermione’s eyes with hopelessness and despair. There was a tense silence, in which they simply stared at each other for the longest time.

“Ron, we have to help him,” Hermione said, breaking the awkward silence between the two of them.

“How?” he answered incredulously.

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. “He needs our help. We shouldn’t leave him on a suicide journey by himself.”

“Hermione, every is every bit capable of defeating Voldemort. You and I both know that. He did this to protect us as well as every other wizard, witch, or muggle. I doubt Harry would be pleased with you and I if we show up unexpectedly.”

She fixed him with a steely glare. “If you think I’m just going to let him fight on his own, possibly to his death, and wait for him, then you obviously don’t know me well enough, Ronald Weasley.”

Ron stared at her for a moment. Hermione’s hands were placed upon her hips indignantly and her eyes her shining fiercely. He glanced at the letter again, and then back to Hermione. “Why?”

Hermione was taken aback. “Why what?” she snapped, without realizing her tone of voice.

“Why go through all of this trouble? Why risk your own life? We’ve done dangerous things before, Hermione, but nothing compared to this. Why?”

She bit her lip with uncertainty, not knowing what to say. If anytime was right to tell him, now was it. “Be-because, I love him, Ron,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

For one moment all you could hear was the blistering wind from outside and the steady snores of Neville Longbottom. Hermione was shaking a bit. How would Ron react to this unexpected bit of news?

Finally Ron muttered, “It’s about time, Hermione.”

She looked at him quizzically. “Well that’s one reaction I wasn’t planning on getting. What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he said in exasperation. “The two of you have been skirting around each other for ages. I’m not that dense, you know.” He took Hermione’s hands in his. “You two are my best friends that I’ve got. You’re all that I have now. The two of you have gone through so much more than I have. You can’t deny that. And I can’t deny that I do have feelings for you, Hermione. But Harry needs you more than I do. I want you both to be happy. If that means putting my own feelings aside…I will do so.”

The corners of Hermione’s eyes were prickling and welling up with tears. She brushed away the few tears that escaped. Her already cracked and damaged emotional wall that had been chipping away for the past 7 years had finally been torn asunder. Ron’s statement came as so much of a surprise that it seemed almost out of character. It wasn’t like Ron to be so sentimental. But, Hermione appreciated it all the same.

“So, what do you have in mind?” Ron asked abruptly.

“Me?” said Hermione rather indignantly.

Ron grinned. “Yes, you. You’re the brains of this operation after all. Besides, it was your idea to go chasing after him in the first place.”

Hermione was in a bit of a stupor. She was caught in the heat of the moment and had never gone over what they were about to do extensively. The anxiety was now beginning to settle within the depths of her soul. It was like her to not consider the consequences and charge off without a single thought in her head. Her emotions were overriding her other existing functional emotions. She thought for a moment about their imminent plan of action.

“He was heading into the Forbidden Forest when I last saw him,” she said with a somber expression. “Although…” her face was now glowing brightly. “There is a simple spell that we can use to help us create a path through the forest.” Hermione spoke with as much gusto as if she was talking about her previous achievements with S.P.E.W. and the D.A.

“What’s the spell?” Ron asked her excitedly.

“Sequipath,” she said with certainty. “Besides, we know our way around the Forest. We’ve been there plenty of times, remember?”

Ron snorted. “Of course I remember. I remember the acromantulas, the dead unicorns, the thestrals…oh, and did I mention the centaurs?”

“Stop being so negative, Ron,” she reprimanded. “We don’t have that much time. So are we going to do this or not?”

“I’m several steps behind you,” he said, displaying a grin reminiscent of his twin brothers Fred and George. He swung his feet from under his bedcovers and stood up to stretch.

Hermione looked him up from head to toe and raised her eyebrow. “You don’t expect to go out like that, do you?” She was trying hard to suppress a fit of laughter from his too-short pajamas.

Ron looked at her quizzically for a moment and glanced down at his attire. “Er-I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you down in common room.”

She turned around quickly and exited the boy’s dormitories with as much gusto as she could muster. She whisked hurriedly down the sweeping spiral staircase. The common room was desolate and empty. The only source of light came from the moon, illuminating through the windows giving a pale shine. There was no fire in the hearth for warmth. Everything about the room was cold. Everything chilled Hermione’s heart.

A few minutes later, Hermione could hear Ron’s clumsy footsteps clunk on the stairs as he traipsed down them. He was still pulling on his cloak as he reached the common room. “Are you ready?” he said, now breathing heavily with frustration.

“I’ve been ready for this forever,” she replied, casting a meaningful glance at him.

Ron caught the double meaning of her words with ease. He smiled grimly. Hermione threw the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them and led Ron out of the portrait hole. They walked cautiously, yet quickly through the vase halls of Hogwarts. Once they had exited the large oak front doors, Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered, “Sequipath.”

Almost instantly, fiery footsteps lit the path that looked strangely like Harry’s. The footsteps twisted and turned and disappeared into the depths of the Forbidden Forest as far as their eyes could see. Ron and Hermione hesitated for a moment before following the path of the flaming footsteps.

Hermione’s heart began to lighten in spite of herself, but somehow she could not shake this heavy feeling of dread within her.

-----------------

Harry had been sauntering in the Forbidden Forest for nearly an hour. He never knew exactly how vast the forest was until this night. Hs scar was searing with pain more pronounced than before. He knew it was only a matter of time before he reached him. The pain was so intense at times that he had to stop for a moment and lean against a tree for support. He could not think or see straight at all. Harry was waiting for that one hint…

Suddenly, as if Harry had been expecting this all along, he heard rustling of the bushes up ahead of him. The hand gripping his wand tightened even more, which was saying something since his hand was black and blue from the alarming lack of blood circulation. He slowed his pace and walked steadily towards the source of the disruption. Once he reached his final destination, his jaw dropped.

He was standing in a large, circular opening of the forest that was completely cleared of trees and shrubbery of any kind. It was exactly the most friendly of places. Harry moved around the area in circles, making sure that he made eye contact everywhere. This place was an open range, where he, Harry, was an easy target.

“It’s about time,” snarled a cold, high voice that made the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand on edge. He pivoted to the direction of the voice and stood there firmly. He knew full well whom that voice belonged to.

Emerging from the shadows came a tall, slender figure robed in the deepest black. His snakelike eyes glowed red with intensity in the darkness. Lord Voldemort’s unnaturally long and spindly fingers grasping his wand with pleasure. From behind him came a large array of masked Death Eaters, now positioning themselves around the encirclement. Harry was trapped.

What was astounding was the fact there seemed to be far more Death Eaters than there were on the night when Voldemort returned to full strength nearly three years ago. But tonight was a different dual of good vs. evil. There were no innocent bystanders this time for Voldemort to torture. Harry could never endure another Cedric. There was no magical Portkey for Harry to escape back to safety. He was taking a large risk in what he was attempting tonight.

As the Death Eaters continued to arrange themselves, Voldemort walked directly to the middle of the opening. The moonlight was illuminating his pale skin, making him seem almost ghostly. “I’ve spent the last 16 years formulating plans to capture you, to kill you, and here you come looking for me.” His mouth curled treacherously into a dangerous smile. “Why? What made you do so?”

Harry remained stoically silent. He kept his head up defiantly without saying a single word. Voldemort simply ignored his manner and pressed on.

“What is it, Potter? What drove you out to seek me? Why risk your own life in such a fruitless attempt to launch an attack on Lord Voldemort?” He grinned once more at Harry, who was beginning to shift uncomfortably.

“Come now, come now,” Voldemort persisted, pacing up and down the row the Death Eaters with a maniacal glint in his eyes. “No need to maintain all of this secrecy, Harry. After all, I doubt you’ll be alive much longer to tell any more secrets of yours. So what is it?” He stopped. “Or better yet-who was it?”

Harry’s face grew drastically paler by each passing moment. His stomach dropped even further. He hated Voldemort’s ploy of teasing and taunting his prey. It often made him feel inferior.

“Forget the small talk,” said Voldemort in his naturally cold and fear-inducing tone of voice. “No pain in beating around it any longer. I’ve had quite enough of you and your meddling. Your interference will not be a problem any longer. At last, all such things must come to an end.”

Raising his wand high above him, he exclaimed, “AVADA KED…”

“HARRY!”

Voldemort stopped in the midst of performing the ominous Killing Curse. He noticed two figures bursting through the enclosed circle of Death Eaters. His lip curled into a menacing smile. “Well, this just gets even better.”

Harry whirled around sharply. His gaze fell upon a disheveled Ron and a clearly emotional Hermione. His eyes widened in horror and he groaned, “Oh no.”

“Here I have the so-called hero and conqueror of everything big, bad, and evil…but I also get his faithful sidekicks. My, it’s like a buy one, get one free sale down in Hogsmeade. It can’t get any better than this.” His cynicism was driving Harry stark-raving mad.

Hermione and Ron took their places on either side of Harry. Hermione entwined her fingers with Harry’s, an action that certainly did not escape Voldemort’s notice. She stood defiantly, facing the one who often frequented Harry’s nightmares, along with her own. Inside, she was as frightful as she had ever been, but she made extra effort not to show it. Ron, on the other hand, was not nearly as composed.

“Ah, so this is reason in which you came to me?” Voldemort laughed shrilly, staring at the trio with sheer delight. His penetrating gaze was now focused upon Harry once more. “All of this for the gangly redhead and you bold-as-brass Mudblood girlfriend? I guess your sojourn was in vain, Potter. I shall take immense pleasure in killing the two you love right in front of your eyes.”

Harry was grinding his teeth sharply with both anger and the fact that his scar was blinding with an intense surge of pain. He wasn’t about to step aside and let Voldemort gain control over everything he had left, which wasn’t very much, he had to admit.

“So, who first?” he deliberated in mock decision. His pitiless eyes were traveling back and forth back and forth between Ron and Hermione. After a few tense, silent moments, they finally settled upon Hermione. His devilish grin grew even wider, if that was physically possible. “Say hello to your parents for me.”

Before Voldemort could say another one of his sarcastic barbs or even move a muscle, Hermione let out a tearful cry and ran directly at him as fast as she could. To the astonishment of everyone in the clearing, she crashed straight into Voldemort, knocking him backwards onto the ground in frenzy. She began to repeatedly pummel her fists spasmodically into his thin figure. He let out a furious roar, grabbed the back of her hair, and pulled her off of him. As he got up off of the ground, his ghostly fingers were still latched upon a struggling Hermione.

“I can’t wait to get rid of the riffraff first,” he spat in her face.

Hermione gave him a swift kick in the leg, which caused him to howl with fury. He smacked her forcefully across the face whilst letting go of her. She fell to the forest floor with a resounding thud. The forest shook with the Death Eater’s malicious laughter.

Harry cried out loud, “Leave her alone!” Every inch of his body was shaking with intense hatred and anger. He took a few steps closer to Voldemort, not daring to look at Hermione’s crumpled form. “It’s me you really want. This does not concern either of them.”

Voldemort nodded his head stoically as if he has been expecting this. “You’re a bit naïve at times, Potter. You see, this concerns them almost as much as it concerns you. They knew the consequences in befriending you and yet they did it anyway, giving no thought to those consequences. They were blatantly asking for all of this. After you three, nothing will stand in my way. No one will dare defy Lord Voldemort.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Harry asked with a grin. “Isn’t he the only one that you have truly feared after all of these years?”

“Are you forgetting the prophecy, Potter?” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t assume that I haven’t heard the full transcript, because I have. There is nothing a little persuasion won’t accomplish. Dumbledore may be the only one that I supposedly fear, but you’re the only one who can conquer me.”

The entire clearing remained eerily still and silent. The only sound that could be heard was the strong gusts of wind that was rustling through the trees and the wizards’ cloaks. Harry’s heart was pounding wildly. He broke his eyes away from Voldemort and placed them upon Hermione. He drew in a collective gasp of breath when he saw her. She was sprawled on the ground. A bruised mark on the left side of her face was easily visible. Harry’s breathing was quickening its pace. The corners of his startlingly green eyes began prickling with intensity.

“Do what you came here to do, Potter?” said Voldemort, holding up his hands as if he were simply making a gesture of invitation. “Put to rest all of these years of pain and misery. Avenge the deaths of those you loved. What’s there to lose?”

Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Everything,” he muttered. He quickly raised his wand and shouted, “Crucio!”

Voldemort’s shining, snakelike eyes widened in shock and surprise. He tightened his mouth, so as not to let out even the smallest shriek of pain. It was obvious to those present that he was experiencing some pain, but dared not show it. However, he did not fall to the ground and howl like many did when the curse was upon them. Once the effects of the curse had worn off, he straightened himself up with confidence and pierced his eyes directly into Harry’s.

“Not the first time you’ve used the curse, was it?” Voldemort growled. “Too bad it didn’t have the effect that you were looking for. However, I expect my attempt will have just the results that you were searching for.” He turned about pointed his wand at the limp form of Hermione. “Crucio!”

Hermione gave a loud shriek and began to twitch and spasm uncontrollably on the ground. Harry could hardly take another moment of this.

“I said leave her alone!” Harry bellowed as loud as he could. “This is between you and I.”

Voldemort’s teasing smile dropped suddenly from his face as he fixed Harry with a penetrating stare. “So be it.” He raised his wand once more and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!” Harry interjected at the same moment. He was placing an undetermined amount of faith within this spell to save him once more.

Harry’s instincts certainly served him right. The two spells crashed into each other, bringing a thundering shower of scarlet and emerald overhead. The two casters looked at the aftereffects.

Ron, who was standing by nervously, took advantage of Voldemort’s sudden lapse of alertness and concentration. He directed his wand at Voldemort’s and whispered, “Wingardium Leviosa.”

Voldemort’s wand was now free of its owner’s grasp. Ron began to direct the other wand towards him until he finally caught it in his free hand. Everyone in the clearing was staring at him with dumbfounded expressions. Such a simple first year spell was enough to deprive the most evil wizard ever known of the most powerful weapon that he possessed: his wand.

“Not so brave now, are you?” Ron taunted, waving Voldemort’s wand around idly.

Harry’s mouth was open slightly in shock. He felt his insides loosen their grip. Maybe they did have a chance of survival after all. However, the trio was clearly outnumbered by a large amount of Death Eaters still stationed all around the clearing.

Taking advantage of the lack of attention upon her, Hermione shakily rose to her feet. Her face was deathly pale and clammy. Every inch of her body was trembling as she watched Ron grinning proudly and holding up the enemy’s wand.

“Accio!” a Death Eater shouted in a throaty voice just behind Ron.

The wand began to jerk towards the sound of the man’s voice. Ron’s grip on the wand tightened. He turned around to face the Death Eater, still clutching the wand as if his entire life depended on it. To which, ironically, it did. The force trying to pull the wand away was suddenly lessened. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, but still maintained a firm grip.

“You fool!” Voldemort shouted in rage. His face was contorted and his were narrower than Harry had ever seen then. They were flashing dangerously upon Ron, whose face had now gone slack and was no longer grinning. “You underestimate the true strength of power that I hold. Do you really think that I need a wand to cause pain or even kill? It is merely a tool to mask my power.”

Ron was frozen in his tracks. His normally bright and shining face was now limp and colorless. Harry knew what was about to come. He reached over and held Hermione’s hand tightly as he leaned over closer to her.

“I know what Voldemort is going to do,” he whispered low in her ear. “Just do what I’m about to tell her. Trust me, Hermione. Everything is going to be alright.”

She nodded and smiled grimly. She was still shaking dreadfully. Harry then proceeded to whisper directions into her ear while Voldemort was busy giving yet another villainous monologue.

“You can’t beat Lord Voldemort,” he continued in his snakelike voice. “Not you, not the Mudblood…not even the good, great Harry Potter. I’ll have three less thorns in my side to worry about after tonight.”

He laughed mercilessly to which the Death Eaters reciprocated. The laughter ran cold down the shivering spines of the trio. Harry then turned back to Hermione and nodded slightly.

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Harry said as he ground his teeth in anger at Voldemort’s usual flippancy.

Harry and Hermione raised their wands and pointed them directly at Voldemort. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” they shouted together. A blinding flash of green light erupted from both wands. The light was so intensely bright, that the Death Eaters around them dropped to their knees and covered their eyes in anguish. However, Voldemort stood his ground with pride, his eyes widening.

It wasn’t the bright green light that had caught his attention. What really drew him in was the fiery shadow of a winged figure. A soft, harmonious song filled the still night air. Harry’s ears felt soothed by the beautiful sounds immediately. It was phoenix song. The figure emitting from the their wands was now becoming steadily clearer. It was a magnificent phoenix heading straight towards Voldemort with immense speed and force.

The phoenix made contact with a deafening sound of thunder and the most blinding burst of light that was ever witnessed by living beings. Voldemort’s bloodcurdling scream erupted, echoing grotesquely everywhere. The force of the contact knocked everyone to the ground.

Harry was still holding onto Hermione’s hand for dear life. She had her head ducked down, unable to look at what was happening to Voldemort. However, everyone else in the vicinity couldn’t help to take their eyes away as his life force was leaving him. It was as if he was shrinking into oblivion, his figure growing smaller and smaller with each passing moment. Once he had reached the size of a speck of dust, a loud “POP” echoed through the clearing and he was gone.

The atmosphere was suddenly still and silent once more. Everyone was still crumpled in large heap upon the ground, not knowing what quite to do. A Death Eater shrieked loudly in surprise. He quickly jumped up and began to pace around, clutching his arm tightly.

“The Dark Mark!” he shouted to the others. They looked at him quizzically. He was slapping his forearm impatiently, as if waiting for them to get the hint. He held up his forearm for all to see. A stunned silence greeted this odd, but strangely reasonable gesture. The other Death Eaters around him reciprocated and pulled up the sleeves of their cloaks to see a bare patch of skin on their arms. The Dark Mark had vanished. They stared around apprehensively at each other and at the trio.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were now standing up, looking very relieved, yet disheveled. Their expressions did not conceal their surprise and happiness. They continued to glare at the groveling Death Eaters with an expression of smug victory. They pointed their wands at them, as if daring the Death Eaters to move a muscle. After a few moments of tense and awkward silence, a few of the Death Eaters lying on the ground scrambled to their feet and broke off into a run in multiple directions. The other Death Eaters soon followed in pursuit.

Ron looked around the now empty clearing. He brushed back his tussled red hair casually with one hand. He appeared extremely nervous, still shaking slightly from the aftershock. His mouth twitched into a small grin. “Are you mad at us for coming, Harry?”

Harry was still holding his hand within Hermione’s. He let go quickly, feeling a bit awkward with their newfound intimacy with each other. Not to mention, it was a bit strange with Ron standing there and staring at the pair intensely. “Of course I am!” Harry replied rather vehemently. “Both of you could have been killed!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You would have too if Ron and I hadn’t shown up. The fact that you were expecting us to simply stay at Hogwarts while you go off to fight your own demons is beyond even me!”

Ron nodded feverently in agreement. “She’s got a point there, mate,” he said, cocking his head towards Hermione. “I thought you would have learned your lesion after the deal with the Stone in our first year and everything after that. We wouldn’t leave you alone anywhere…’specially Hermione,” he muttered, shifting his feet uneasily. Ron could see her cheeks flush. He pocketed his wand and gently thrust Voldemort’s wand into Harry’s hand. “You deserve this after all you’ve been though.”

Harry examined the wand closely. Odd to think that this wand had an unusual connection with his own wand. “Thanks,” he said, looking back up at Ron and smiling.

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione and flashed a feeble grin. “I’ll just leave you two alone for a bit. When we get back to the castle, I doubt we’ll have a lot of quiet time. See you two in a bit.” He turned on his heel and left quietly.

A tense silence was forced upon them after Ron’s sudden departure. Harry finally broke the tension after a few uneasy moments of simply staring at each other. “I still can’t believe you came here.” She glared at him. “But, I still appreciate it despite how angry I was.”

Her stony expression softened into a bright smile. Harry’s insides fluttered whenever she did this. It was a source of warmth unforeseen in such a cold, derelict forest. The sight of her shining smile seemed to light up their surroundings, or was It just his imagination? Her grin flickered as Harry continued to focus his gaze on her adoringly with such a strange expression.

“What is it?” she asked him curiously. She began twisting her hands together uncomfortably behind her back.

Harry bit his lip uncertainly. At that moment, every single feeling that he had experienced in the last few hours came rushing through him. He felt his whole life speeding past his eyes in a whirl of colors and memories. Everything inside of him had felt so numb up until this point. He hadn’t had time to fully comprehend what was going on around him. “It’s over,” he said simply. “Everything.”

Hermione moved closer towards him. She grabbed his hand gently and whispered, “I know. It’s been a long time coming, Harry.”

“Are you talking about us or Voldemort?”

She grinned. “Both,” she said. “So, where do we go from here?”

Harry looked around the forest. From a distance, they could hear a number of familiar voices jubilantly shouted and calling their names. He held onto her hand even tighter. “Let’s just take it one day at a time. I’m in no hurry.”

Harry and Hermione began walking arm in arm though the path out of the Forbidden Forest. The fiery footsteps that led the way were now barely visibility. The sounds of multiple voices were becoming much louder and clearer with every step that they took side-by-side.

“I love your ambiguity,” she exclaimed in mock sarcasm, pinching him playfully at his side. “But I love your honesty even more.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. His honesty? He could barely count on both hands how many times Hermione had caught him lying before. “You’re not serious, are you?” he asked.

“Of course I’m serious!” she said. “After all, you did keep your promise and nothing else matters but that.” She leaned over to him and tenderly kissed Harry on the cheek while they both sauntered ever closer towards Hogwarts.