Unofficial Portkey Archive

To all my dear faithful readers: I wanted to express my deepest apologies for making you wait for so long for this next chapter. In between deaths, illness, and a stolen computer, it has been a taxing year. Harry has always been there, in the back of my mind, and with great guilt I had to put him on hold. I hope that you enjoy this chapter; it was difficult to write, as it signals that the end of this journey is near. I wanted it to be good, for all of my readers. I thank you for your patience, and kindness.

These characters do not belong to me, but I have learned that I do not like to live without them in my life.

Chapter 60

Unwelcome Visitors

Harry felt a combination of fear and anxiety as he stood, facing his nemesis. The Dementors slowed to a stop, hovering behind Voldemort, as though waiting. Harry watched them warily, expecting them to rush him. He had not known them to be patient in the past. He could feel Amoura's anxiety mixing with his own; obviously she knew of their terrible powers as well. Hermione moved to stand beside Harry, clutching his hand tightly in hers. He could feel her trembling, so he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You let yourself be pulled down by this…this Mudblood. This is why you will never be successful, Harry. You choose the tainted over the pure."

Harry felt a rage build in him, but before he could react, he felt a squeeze from Hermione's hand, reminding him they were in this together. He took a deep breath, willing himself to not react to Voldemort's comments. That was what the Dark Lord wanted, because that's when mistakes were made.

Harry wasn't willing to give that to him.

He slowly smiled, and relaxed his stance, ready for an attack.

"Is that your hidden desire? To be pure? You can't change where you came from, Tom," Harry taunted.

He was watching out of the corner of his eye as the Dementors continued to arrive. He had never seen so many at one time. It felt like the cold was seeping into his soul, and he could feel Amoura trying to retreat from it. Beside him, Hermione shivered. In front of him, Voldemort's face became one of rage.

"You will not address me by that name ever again! That person no longer exists!" Voldemort hissed.

"Hiding behind a façade will never change who you really are," Hermione said.

Voldemort's face twisted in anger.

"Impedimenta!" he yelled suddenly, pointing his wand at Hermione.

Hermione flew backwards and collapsed on the floor. Harry turned to go to her.

"Stop!" Voldemort called. "Stay where you are, or I will do a lot worse to her."

Harry hesitated; he still wasn't too sure of these powers yet, and he wasn't willing to put Hermione's life in at risk.

"I could have easily killed her," Voldemort said. "But believe it or not, I have learned from past lessons, and I think perhaps I can use her as my next victim in order to create a new Horcrux. Quite fitting, don't you think?"

Harry flexed and clenched his fingers; he could feel the anger building up inside him, but also a slight sense of panic from Amoura to his changing emotions.

"Of course, I will make sure she knows how you died before I kill her," Voldemort taunted.

Harry took a deep breath and slowly pushed the anger down. When he looked up again, he was in control.

"You can't kill me, Harry," Voldemort said. "You don't have it in you. I, on the other hand, will take great pleasure in it. But first, I have unfinished business."

He waved his arms at the Dementors, and several of them detached from the rest and flew down the stairs. Harry's wand was up in an instant.

"Expecto-"

They passed him quickly, and headed into the Great Hall. Harry felt the horror as he heard cries of surprise and spells being cast from inside.

He turned back to see Voldemort smiling at him.

"Distracted, are we?" he laughed. "You six search the castle, and you six may have the grounds," he said to the next group.

The Dementors flew off, and Harry could feel his panic growing. Voldemort could see it in his eyes, and he smiled in satisfaction.

****** ****** ****** ******

Ron felt the cold permeate the room before he heard the first screams. A chill ran up and down his spine as he realized what it meant.

"Dementors," he said as he scrambled up to look over the pile of rubble. He could see several people attempting to create Patronuses, and while some were successful, many others were not. He sat down again, quickly assessing what needed to be done. The battle had just taken a new turn.

"Come on," he said to Luna. "We've got to help!"

Ron hesitated for a split second before jumping up ready, but no spells were directed their way; everyone had a common enemy now. The Dementors didn't care which side anyone was on. They raced down the side of the hall towards where Neville had been seen last.

They could see him casting a shapeless silvery mist, but it wasn't very strong. Ron closed his eyes and thought of a happy thought: the day Luna said she loved him.

"Expecto Patronum!" He called, and the Jack Russell flew out of his wand, and bounded towards the Dementor, pushing him away.

"Thanks," Neville panted, as they got closer. "I've never been able to master that one."

Ron scanned the hall, searching for all of the Dementors. He saw a wolf Patronus chasing a Dementor, who escaped through the hole in the roof.

He got an idea.

"Luna, stay with Neville and send the Dementors towards the back of the hall. I'm going to send them through the hole."

"Be careful," Luna said.

Ron took off towards the back of the hall.

"Expecto Patronum!" he called, directing one of the Dementors towards the hole in the ceiling.

There were so many of them. He kept pushing them through the hole, keeping his focus on Luna's love for him.

One Dementor swooped past him, and he felt the chill; it seemed to mold itself around his bones. He shivered, and tried to shake it off.

`Are you sure she loves you?'

`What?'

`Maybe she was just saying that,'

A hare flew by, startling Ron, who shook his head, trying to refocus his thoughts. He was getting tired, and so was his terrier.

Another Dementor swooped past, and he cast his Patronus again.

He was cold.

`She doesn't really love you,'

`NO!'

`She'll just leave you, just like Hermione did,'

`No…that…that was different…'

`She doesn't love you. You're not good enough. You're not Harry Potter.'

`No…'

Two more Dementors circled Ron as he fell to his knees, tears sliding down his cheek. He was becoming trapped in his worst fear.

They were laughing.

They were all laughing and pointing at him. He held out his hand, but she just laughed and walked away. He was alone.

"Luna," he whispered brokenly.

She was standing with Harry and Hermione, laughing at him. Laughing at his vulnerability.

`Useless…'

`Inept…'

`Inadequate…'

The words stabbed at him, causing more damage than a knife ever could.

The chill flowed through his blood and froze his heart. All that he held close was being torn away from him. He was never going to be happy again. He no longer heard or saw the battle around him. He was trapped; there was nothing but this pain.

He vaguely felt two warm hands cup his face, and a pair of warm lips covered his. He kissed her back hungrily, desperately, drinking in her warmth as his arms pulled her closer. He felt like he was struggling to reach the surface, desperate for that life-saving breath of air. He never wanted to let her go. She finally pulled away from him and he opened his eyes to look at her, gasping.

"Never doubt how much I love you," she whispered.

He hugged her to him, murmuring words of apology. He looked around the room after a moment, and noticed the Dementors were gone and most of the fighting had stopped. The smile slid off his face though, as he looked back towards the main door. More Dementors were coming through.

****** ****** ****** ******

Ginny was pacing.

Madame Pomfrey had shooed her out and pulled the curtain closed with a snap. She could hear Draco complaining and Madame Pomfrey's curt replies. She was torn. She could hear the battle outside, and somewhere in the castle something exploded. But she couldn't leave Draco, not until she knew for sure that he was going to be okay.

"You will survive, Mr. Malfoy, so stop complaining and take the potion," Madame Pomfrey said as she opened the curtains with a snap.

Ginny quickly came over, the relief evident on her face. Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at her, but allowed her to pass.

"She's trying to poison me," Draco muttered as she left.

"Don't be silly," Ginny said as she knelt beside his bed. "You had me worried," she whispered.

Draco smiled at her, but then winced and closed his eyes. Ginny took his hand in hers and held it to her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Red," he whispered after a minute. "I should have warned you. I didn't know…"

Ginny kissed the palm of his hand and he shivered.

"Don't think about it anymore," she said. "You'll be up soon and then we-" she stopped as she watched her breath swirl in front of her.

The room was very cold all of a sudden. She stood up and faced the entrance. She could still see her breath, even though she was breathing shallow. There was something dark out there. An image screamed at her from the corner of her mind, but she pushed it away. That evil had possessed her once, years ago, in a damp chamber; she swore she would never fall victim to it again.

"Dementors," Draco said as he struggled to sit up.

Ginny slowly moved away from the bed and pulled out her wand. She closed her eyes and thought about the last time she had been alone with Draco. A small, satisfied smile came to her lips. As the door to the infirmary opened, Ginny pointed her wand at the two Dementors that came through.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" she cried as her Patronus exploded out of the end of her wand, knocking them back through the doors. She stood panting, waiting to see if they would come back. She somehow she didn't think they would.

"Incredible," Draco said in awe. "What were you thinking about?"

Ginny came back and sat on the bed beside him She gently brushed the hair out of his eyes and leaned over to kiss him, trying to ward off the chill that had found it's place in her heart. She would never be a victim to that awful man again, but the fear was still there, deep down, where she kept it locked away. She leaned up against Draco, needing his warmth, and he complied, wrapping his arms around her protectively.

"You, and a certain meeting," she said.

"That's powerful," he breathed as he pulled her back down.

"It was," she agreed before surrendering to his kiss.

Madame Pomfrey slowly closed her door again to give them a little privacy. She would yell at them later.

****** ****** ****** ******

"Now, where were we?" Voldemort said.

"Why don't you come down here and we'll discuss it?" Harry said.

"No, I think this is a much better position for me. It's a privilege to look down upon your inferiors," Voldemort said. "You have been the bane of my existence for too long now, and it is time for all of this to end. Did you really think that you could win? That I would be defeated by the likes of you?"

Harry slowly moved closer to the stairs, and Voldemort stopped in surprise. He watched the boy as he came to a stop just below him. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation in his movement, and in that moment, the pendant came to mind.

`The pendant…'

"Did he have it?" he thought. "Does he know of it's potential?'

He shook his head. There was no way that this young boy could figure out what had taken him so long to learn. It was impossible.

"But he must have it," Voldemort thought angrily as the earlier events played out in his mind. "And I will take great pleasure in taking it from his cold, dead body."

Harry watched as the play of emotions moved across Voldemort's face before it became twisted in anger. Somehow, it no longer scared him. He was alone, and yet it didn't feel like he was without support. He could sense Amoura's confidence in him along side the love of Hermione, and it made him feel strong.

"It's time to say goodbye, Harry," Voldemort said. "Avada-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry yelled.

The power of Harry's spell knocked Voldemort's wand out of his hand with such force that it surprised the Dark Lord.

"Accio wand," Harry called before he could react, and it landed in his outstretched hand.

Harry looked up at the man on the stairs, and for the first time in a long time, saw a slight flicker of fear.

"KILL HIM!" Voldemort screamed at the Dementors, and he turned to escape back up the stairs.

The Dementors began their slow descent towards Harry, but he only had eyes for the one trying to escape. He had to stop him. This had to stop now.

There was a blur of movement just off to the side, but Harry didn't have time to turn and look. He could feel the cold entering his body, and Amoura seemed to shrink back slightly from the contact. He could sense Amoura's fears mixing with his own, as a jumble of visions seemed to be trying to weigh him down.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" he yelled, firing off a spell towards Voldemort as he was tackled.

He felt his leg give way and he went down hard, snapping Voldemort's wand under him: his spell going wide and hitting the staircase. The staircase exploded, and Harry heard a scream. He battled against Bellatrix, who was now scratching and trying to get his wand. He finally managed to push her off, and looked up at the staircase. It was gone, and so was Voldemort. The Dementors had stopped and seemed to be moving back towards the rubble. Both Bellatrix and Harry scrambled apart and Bellatrix stood up, ready to strike. The movement of the Dementors caught the corner of her eye, and it took her a second to realize that they were surrounding something, or someone.

"NO!" Bellatrix shrieked in realization as she ran towards where the Dementors were now leaning over.

She collapsed to her knees, holding her head, and Harry imagined the dreadful nightmares she was reliving. She crawled, sobbing, apologizing, towards the broken body lying on the floor. Harry hobbled after her, pushing away the screaming voices and the aching parts of his body that were trying to overpower him. He could feel Amoura's fear and sadness, and he comforted her, wrapping her in his protective embrace as he pushed the nightmares away. She sighed gratefully and sent her thanks. He realized that he was in charge, and the inner conflict had stopped. The powers were his, and he suddenly understood.

He understood everything.

He saw the scene around him with a new awareness.

It was a heady experience, but he knew he couldn't stop to enjoy it. Not now.

He stared at the spot were the Dark Lord was lying, with a dreadful sense of deja vu. This time though, it was not his godfather that was being robbed of his soul, and he was in no rush to stop them.

The Dementors seemed fixated on Voldemort, completely ignoring the flailing Bellatrix. Harry could see them pulling at his dying and convulsing body, and then suddenly he saw one Dementor clamp his mouth over Voldemort, draining the fallen man of all that he had become, leaving nothing but an empty shell. Bellatrix screamed, stumbling away from the man she loved in her own demented way, and disappeared from Harry's view.

The Dementor rose up slowly, and turned to where Harry was standing. Harry looked up, expecting to see empty eye sockets, and shivered. The eyes staring back at him reminded him of Voldemort's red eyes. He stumbled back towards Hermione as the remaining Dementors began moving towards him. He could hear his mother's cries in the back of his mind as they converged on him, but he easily drove it away. It seemed so simple now. He reached her side and turned, collecting himself before raising his wand to cast his spell.

****** ****** ****** ******

He was floating.

He looked down to see the broken shell of the weak body that he had inhabited for such a short time.

I'm not dead…

It was a surprising thought.

He could see Harry standing there, and he could feel the anger burning, like a hunger that needed to be fulfilled. He needed to destroy him. He felt himself moving towards him, and the craving grew stronger, to the point where it was beginning to drive him insane. He was moving too slowly. He saw Harry stumble backwards, and he smiled to himself as he moved closer. Soon…so soon…

He watched as Harry drew his wand, and there was suddenly fear. It startled him, because it wasn't his. He realized he wasn't alone. He reached out, trying to find the source, but it seemed everywhere, and yet nowhere. It confused him, because he didn't have any control over it. Not like the other times…

He watched, with morbid curiosity, as Harry collected himself and stood up straight.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Harry's stag burst out of his wand, attacking the closest Dementor, the one with the red eyes, making it flee. As the stag galloped around the area, a second Patronus erupted out of his wand and took flight. The eagle let out a cry of triumph as she soared, attacking as many Dementors as she could. Harry could feel Amoura's glee at being able to defeat the attackers.

Pain…there was so much pain…

He felt the Dementor turn and flee, and he struggled against him, with a sense of panic. He couldn't leave yet! Harry was still alive!

`NO!' he screamed.

`You are mine now…'

He looked around, searching for the voice.

`Who are you?'

`The Keeper of your soul.'

Voldemort screamed in frustration as he fought against nothing. His anger was like a hunger now, and somehow he knew that he would always feel this hunger.

He realized he was no longer living, but still doomed to wander. Wandering ever thirsting for the fulfillment he craved.

Always hungry, but never being able to satisfy.

Dank, cold, and miserable, with no way to end it.

Ever.

He screamed again, but this time in fear of what was to come…

Harry turned and directed his stag towards the Great Hall, while the eagle soared up the stairs, scattering the Dementors. Harry took hold of his wand with both hands. His limbs were shaking now with the effort of feeding both of his Patronuses with his energy. He could feel the Dementors being driven out of the school and off of the grounds. He didn't relax until he knew they were all gone.

Breathing heavily, he dropped to his knees beside Hermione and collapsed, his head landing in her lap. Hermione seemed to wake with a start, since the spell caster lived no more. The last thing Harry remembered was feeling her cold hands on his sweaty face before he blacked out.

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