Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter twenty-nine

-

"I don't see how I am going to get through this," Harry swore, he had just awoke from a nightmare. He was sitting upright, sweat running down his face. He was in a tent and the snores around him were very similar.

"Ron?" he called out in the dark. No one answered but he knew Ron's snores well. Harry opened the tent and peered out. It was in the middle of the night but battle was going on many miles away from them. He could see lights, explosions and wands. It was far too distant away for them to join however and he had to try and sleep. He ran a hand ran over his forehead and he felt cold sweat all over his temple. He had just had a dream but he wasn't sure what it was. "Ron?" he asked again desperate for something to distract him but Ron was long gone asleep. Harry left the tent.

It was quiet except the few guards standing around it. He sought his friend and walked there.

"Neville!" he said happy to see him.

"How are'ya Harry," he answered without turning around. Neville was one of Harry's best friends. He was a loyal friend with the best moral grounds there were.

"Just wanted to see what's happening tonight…" Harry said casually but he felt Neville's inquiring gaze.

"Nightmares or just trouble sleeping?" Neville asked sympathetically, very responsive of feeling the same way. Harry looked over at his friend and wondered what it was that made Neville so sentient to Harry's feelings.

"I guess both…" Harry answered,

"About Hermione?" Neville said in a much quieter voice. Harry's whole body jerked but he remained quiet. She was not to be spoken of…

Neville looked at him for a few moments more before he continued:

"I keep thinking about when it was my birthday and Hannah had bought a book about Herbology… well you see, of course, it wasn't about the gift. It was just that I had never told her that I liked the subject, she had just guessed it from talking to me…" Neville trailed of and Harry saw the pain written all over him. He wanted to get up and leave but something kept him down. He felt united with Neville this way… like brothers, brothers in heartache, brothers in arms…

There was a loud BAAM in the distance and they both jumped. There was no way of knowing who had let of the explosion or who had died.

The anger in Harry somehow resided and he leaned back against a large stone block. The air kind of left him and he panted loudly. Neville turned roughly and then looked at him, he didn't look at all questioning, he simply looked sympathetic.

"Just try and breath through it," he told Harry and patted his back.

Harry leaned forwards and tried to find a breath somewhere but he couldn't, he knew he'd pass out in a second.

"Just breathe slowly and try to find it. Just find the reason…" Neville said, he had no panic, no worry or dread - just acquaintance and consideration.

"What?" Harry said and felt the tears burning, his head spinning…

"Think of your best memory, Harry. Why you are here, why you are fighting, who is worth it? Why is she worth it? Who do you want defend?"

When Neville had said think of your best memory, Harry had already started to drift…

Harry felt slightly cold as he remembered that the window was still open. His mind raced to catch up, Christmas day. They day after Christmas, the days after his wedding.

His eyes shot open and he sat up, he knew what he had to do. As quietly as he could he flung his legs over the edge of the bed and started getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" she, his wife, called out just as he reached for the door... He turned, surprised that she was awake.

"I was just going to ask the elves to send up some breakfast," he assured her but she didn't relax. He knew the look on her face; she knew he was leaving; he was leaving now or later… sometime today. She would sleep alone tonight and that was all that mattered to her.

"Wait, let me just get dressed," she quickly said and started to get out of bed, still wrapped in the bed sheet when Harry hurried over and stopped her.

"No, please just stay as you are," he begged. Hermione didn't move, she didn't know exactly what he meant.

"Are you leaving this very moment?" she demanded but her voice broke and she didn't sound very forceful. Harry looked down at her very soft and delicate hands and wished he could lie to her.

"Yes."

"When, exactly?" she demanded and looked pleadingly at him.

"I won't join you for breakfast," he answered after just a moment of thought. Hermione bit her lip but otherwise kept her composure

"So we'll meet…. When we can?" she encouraged him.

"At any chance I have…" he whispered and felt a very large poisoned knife twirl inside his heart. He didn't want to leave her, not ever. He didn't want to go downstairs and get breakfast without her and he certainly didn't want to go to war and leave her side.

"Hermione," he whispered and leaned into her shoulder. He felt the scent of her, the very strong scent of her and he felt very drunk. "I love you so much," he mumbled into her skin and as he moved his lips he could feel the scent of her on his tongue. He yanked the sheet away. "Oh Hermione," he groaned as he kissed just above her nipple. She let the sheet drop and followed his moves.

He pushed her down on the bed and looked at her creamy skin against the white sheet. He knew for a fact that this was the last time he would see her for… who knew how long?

He wanted to pull the duvet over them and just hide there…

He threw himself down over her, just covering her. He wanted to keep her safe, he wanted to keep her inside this bubble.

"I love you," he groaned over her nipple as he took it in his mouth. He felt the tears on his cheeks and he felt desperation. He knew he could tell her about it, but not now. She would be scared…. He had to be strong, somehow…. He would have traded his life just for the knowledge of Hermione being safe.

How could anyone love someone this much? Well he had heard of it but he had never known it… he knew his father died for his mother, and yes, he had understood. But he had never understood….

He entered her. She was so warm and tight around him. His mind was racing as he moved within her. "You are my life" he thought panicky

He pulled out of her and moved his hand between them, she moaned with pleasure and he knew he was doing what she liked. She came.

You are the only thing that matters he thought frightened

Harry moved back inside of her. I cannot leave you… he thought panicky

It was wonderful, it was pleasurable and it was the saddest thing he had ever felt.

He heard her moan again, she couldn't hear him. His mind started ranting all the things he wanted to say: I love you, You are everything, You are the only one... I shall think of you always…You are the only thing that matters….. ….. "and finally"…..Goodbye…." he thought terrified

-

Harry was somewhere in Poland a few weeks later and he was just finishing his vegetable stew with Ron when they heard shouts and angry people.

They tossed their plates away and hurried over. Their whole camp was scurrying around someone and Harry pushed his way through.

"What going on?" he demanded.

"We found him Harry, trying to crawl up to the camp!" Neville shook a skinny man by his collar. The man was on his knees next to Neville. Harry recognized him, he was a Death Eater without a doubt, but what was his name again?

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

The man stared at him.

"Traitor!" he hissed, obviously surprised that Harry was fighting against them. "Just wait, just wait until I tell them!" he spat.

"You'll not tell anyone anything."

"Wait, I know him!" Ron announced. "That's Barty Crouch Jr that is!"

Harry looked at the man again. Yes! It was Barty Crouch Jr. The war had taken its toll on him as well, he was skinnier than Harry remembered and his hair had become far greyer.

"And you!" Barty hissed at Ron. "Should have guessed your family was involved with this lot." His eyes roamed around the people around him, "Just wait `til they hear… just wait. That shop of your bothers will be burning, I will personally visit your mum, I'll take her in the a-" he was silenced then by a kick in the face by Ron. He fell forwards, grasping at his mouth, feeling at the gap in his front teeth. He started laughing violently.

"And I'll cut the titties of your sis-"when Ron landed the second kick he finally remained quiet.

"What should we do with him?" Ron asked disgusted and turned to Harry. Harry thought for a few moments. They usually sent their prisoners to a hidden prison Dumbledore had opened concealed somewhere - they didn't even know where. But they just couldn't risk Barty Crouch Jr getting away from then. He had identified too many of them.

"Keep him magically chained inside a tent for now," he muttered and stormed away.

Ron ran after him.

"But Harry, shouldn't we just…"

"No, we can't just execute him."

"We can!" Ron replied and grabbed Harry's arm so hard that Harry spun around. "He knows our faces Harry. He knows were the Burrow is!"

Harry looked into Ron's face, he was frightened. Harry had no one the Death Eaters could threaten like that, well at least no one they knew about.

"Well we should ask Dumbl…"

"He'll just say no!" Ron answered. "Look, if we met him in battle he'd be as good as dead anyway! He's a bleeding spy…"

Harry nodded. He gave Ron a pat on the shoulder and walked back inside his tent.

He grabbed the letter he had gotten the previous day from Sirius.

H

The war is spreading at all ends. More people are fighting than ever. We have won a lot of ground and rid the world of quite a few Death Eaters. Last I heard the eastern parts of Europe were midst a raging war worse than other parts we have been to. We will head there soon, they seem to need a lot of help. We have lost good people, but keep on. How are things at your end? I hope our paths will cross soon, it has been far too long!

S

Harry reread the letter again. He was so glad read that Sirius was well, but the news about Eastern Europe troubled him. Had the war broke out in Bulgaria as well? He had no idea where Hermione was, but the last time he saw her she was there. Would she return to Bulgaria? He knew she wanted to help Viktor rescue all the refugees he took on.

Ron returned to the tent muttering under his breath.

"There are thirty Death Eaters approaching us from the north," he said and threw himself on the bed. "They'll be here in about six hours."

Harry expected as much, why else had Barty Crouch Jr come to seek information.

"British?" he asked.

"Both British and Polish."

"Double double toil and trouble," Harry said and leaned back on the bed. "Crouch?"

"Told us what we needed to know," Ron finished and Harry dropped the subject.

-

As dark started to fall they were all ready. They were just seventeen and that meant they were almost just half of the others. But they were prepared. Of course the others would know the same, since their spy hadn't returned to them. The Death Eaters would try and avoid them now, believing them caught in the act.

They were fairly close to a muggle village and Harry didn't want the Death Eaters to get any chance at moving past the village. They needed to have this battle tonight. They had left their camp set up, but moved on without it and followed the path they believed most lightly for the Death Eaters to take.

"Ready?" Harry asked his friends, all huddled down on a large grass field. They nodded at him.

He kicked off on his broom at the same time as Ron, they soared straight up. Battle on brooms was always avoided because in the night air, cursing your friend was hard to avoid. They passed two Death Eaters far from then and kept going. They needed to make sure no one was hiding above them. They kept flying.

"There", two more!" Ron spotted.

When they felt like they were far enough to be out of sight they headed over the other side of the field.

They now knew where the patrollers were, they needed to try and take them down without alerting their camp.

Harry looked over at Ron who was biting his lip while aiming his wand.

"Ready?" he asked.

"On three then?" Ron asked.

Harry raised his wand hand, and while holding his wand he lifted his fingers.

One

Two

Three

At the same moment they both cast spells at the backs of the two men under them. A fraction of a moment later they both said: "Vingardium Leviosa!" and the men who were about to plummet to the ground, were now floating towards Harry and Ron.

When the two men had reached them Harry and Ron both flung them over their brooms.

They slumped forward from the weight but they were prepared for it.

-

They lowered themselves, getting closer to the other two men on their brooms. They repeated what had just happened. They had to hold on hard to the broom so it wouldn't crash to the ground from the weight of three men on each broom

They sped back to their fellows quickly.

Harry let out a loud gasp as his feet touched ground. The weight of the men had made his broom point down and he had held it up by sheer force, it felt like carrying the two men by hand.

Neville helped him get the men off and quickly undressed the smaller one of the two.

He threw the clothes to Harry who hurried to throw them back on.

"It's too small!" Ron yelled out and Harry turned to him. Indeed the clothes from Ron's guard were far too small for him; he'd never be able to get them.

"Engorge them!" Neville suggested.

"They'll see it isn't me at once!" Ron said. "And you can't fit in to these either Harry!" He was right; it didn't matter if he made the clothes bigger. Seeing tall Ron in the place of this predominantly small guard would alert the Death Eaters at once - he would look strange no matter whose place he took tonight.

"I'll do it," someone yelled out. Harry turned and saw Dennis Creevey hurrying forwards.

"No!" Harry objected. Dennis was a good young man, but he wasn't the best fighter.

"I'm the only who'll fit the size," he said quickly eagerly.

"He's right Harry," Neville agreed.

Harry doubted, was Dennis a good enough fighter or would this move hurt them worse than Ron flying? Harry's heart pounded, they didn't have time for this and he nodded and waved Dennis forward. He hurried to the pile of clothes and changed.

"Ready?" he asked Dennis who nodded eagerly.

Harry looked over at Ron, he wasn't used to leaving his side.

"I'll be fine!" Ron assured him. "See you after!"

Harry nodded and kicked off.

He soared up again, Dennis next to him, keeping close. They flew over their friends bellow them and across the field. They saw The Death Eaters below walking ahead towards the Muggle village. He made a sign to Ron and the others below and they hurried forward silently across the field. He held his hand up and waited for a few moments. The moment had to be just right.

He pointed his wand at a young man who was keeping an eye to the sky, looking for warning signs. He was a guard.

"You take the commander!" he called over at Dennis.

"Who is it?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Him, do you see him." Harry pointed, "the one sitting on the carriage!"

Dennis nodded and with a shaking hand he pointed at the man.

"Now," Harry bellowed. And they both shot spells down in to the gathering. Harry saw the guard fall to the ground but a spell flew just by him.

He looked who had casted it, the commander was shooting up at them, Dennis had missed. Harry aimed and got him straight in the face.

As the others in the group turned to the sky and tried to find where the attack was coming from Ron urged the ground group forwards. They ran ahead, wands ready and the attack started.

"Come on, they'll all jump on brooms soon. We need to hurry and stop them!" Harry yelled at Dennis. "Mind the spells!" he turned and saw Dennis following him.

They dove down; they needed to get as many as they could.

The carriage opened and six more men jumped out. They hadn't known about these men and Harry felt slightly panic-stricken. This would make it a lot harder for those on the ground. He leaned forward, trying to make his broom go faster. A spell came towards him and he darted from it, another one and yet one again.

"Watch out for the spells!" he yelled at Dennis and turned.

Dennis leaned forward and Harry was about to turn back when something green flashed in the corner of his eye. He had just a fraction of a moment to yell out as it hit Dennis in the chest. His body went immobile at once and his grip on the broom loosened.

He fell of it and in what felt like slow-motion his body started falling to the ground. It yanked and twitched from the fall and just as Harry was about to cast a spell to lift it back a spell graced him again and he had to duck.

He looked back at Dennis body and saw it bounce slightly as it hit the ground.

He felt sick as he flew quickly to the ground, casting spells at the Death Eaters. He would have to stop soon, he wouldn't be able to tell who was who as the men engaged deeper in battle.

-

The field was eerily quiet as he walked towards his friends. Ron was nurturing an open wound on his thigh.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked and patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, can hardly feel it," Ron answered bravely.

Harry walked away from him towards the place were Dennis had fallen. He saw the dark shape of him and stopped for a moment before he took a deep breath and took another few step forwards.

Dennis looked so small there against the dirt of the field. His face looked peaceful but the fall had landed his body in strange angles and he looked very broken.

Harry thought about Colin Creevey, Dennis older brother, he would be so crestfallen by this.

Harry scooted Dennis up in his arms and carried him back to the others.

Neville was already digging a grave for another one of theirs that had been lost.

-

Harry looked over the grave as the final shoves of dirt were heaved over it. A stone was laid over it, a tradition they had had to repeat far too often.

"Here lays the brave Dennis Creevy our brother in arms, our friend forever!" was what it read.

They never made a big ceremony about these kinds of burials, but those closest to the ones who had passes usually stayed. Harry left as fast as he could. He didn't want to think about it.

As he walked away Ron and Harry's eyes met briefly. Ron's eyes looked as full of thought and sadness as his. He nodded to Harry kindly.

Harry couldn't help but wonder, would it have been Ron? No Ron would never ever be caught in a spell. He was far too skilled! "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," a voice in the back of his head whispered and he shook his head.

The truth was that they were all close to death constantly and Harry knew it. He kept walking, kicking the dirt as he did. When he was in the middle of the field he saw all the dead Death Eaters around him. He was so tired of it… he was so sick of death.

He kneeled to the ground and shoved his hands in to the cold frozen dirt. It hurt but he didn't care. "Enough… enough", he thought. How many more would die? How much more was there? How much more could they all take?

"Hermione…" he thought. He closed his eyes so hard they hurt. He needed to bring her back into his mind; he needed to shut everything around him away. Hermione, he pleaded in his mind again desperately. Her face mingled in the images of Dennis broken body and he let out an angry yell as he punched the ground so hard his knuckles started bleeding.

-

Another huge thanks to my beta Anna

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