Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews! This is something of a shorter chapter than usual, but it seemed like the right place to leave off before I move into the final chapters of the story. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 23: Let It Burn

When Ron arrived in the dark and dreary parlor of Malfoy Manor it was to find his best female friend standing alone, covered in soot. It would have been comical except for the fact that she was crying. While he had come to accept that he wasn't IN love with her, it didn't mean that he didn't love her still, and seeing her distressed immediately tugged at his heartstrings. Uncaring of the fact that she was filthy he immediately encompassed her in massive hug, and this amount of contact seemed to shatter whatever resolve she had remaining and she fell against him in a heap of sobs.

After a beat Ginny was there as well, and Luna came too, all three of them encompassing her in a group hug. Draco seemed to be absent, and for this Ron was glad. This is an issue that needs to be handled by friends, not selfish prats.

"What is it?" Ron asked after they had lead her to the stiff sofa. "Is Harry okay?"

This seemed to be the wrong question as it ignited a fresh wave of tears, each carving a smeary trail down her cheeks as they cut through the residual ash from the floo network. "Harry is fine… he's taking care of things."

"It doesn't seem like he's fine with the way you're crying" Ron said skeptically and Ginny nudged him in the ribs.

"Did something happen Hermione?" Ginny asked, her tone tactful as she sat down beside the older girl.

"He told me to leave" Hermione said, the tears suddenly gone, her despair replaced by an empty stare. "He told me he didn't need me."

"That's bull!" Ron yelled, enraged. "Why would he say something so stupid to you, you're the one who saved him when…" Ron never got the chance to recant which instance of Hermione saving Harry he wanted to share, because Luna was dragging him from the room.

"What?!" he snapped once they were alone in the hallway.

"This might be a situation best addressed by girl talk" Luna said, absently tucking a piece of Ron's hair back as she spoke. The small gesture calmed him.

"She's my best friend! I have a right to know… she needs me!"

"I recall once hearing a story about how you have `the emotional range of a teaspoon'. I'm sure she will need you, but now is not the time. You'll just get her more wound up with the state you're in."

"Fine. But I expect you to fill me in on everything as soon as your `girl talk' is over. If I have to fly my broomstick all the way to the Canadian Rockies to kick Harry's arse I will." She laughed and then she did something she'd never done before; she kissed his cheek before leaving. He stood alone for a while, his hand pressed against his face.

When Luna rejoined Ginny and Hermione in the parlor she was quickly given the short version of what had transpired during their trip to find the Bloody 65th. Once the tale was told, Ginny made a frustrated hissing sound and stood up, hands on her hips. "That boy… I knew he could be emotionally constipated but this is just… unforgivable. Ron is going to kill him!"

"He's already dying" Hermione said. While telling her girl friends about Harry's behavior she had been calm; almost monotone. Suddenly pain sprung into her eyes upon this realization and now she stood as well, holding a hand to her heart as though she had been wounded there. "He's dying and I just abandoned him. I need to go back!"

She made a desperate move towards the fireplace, but Ginny's reflexes as a Quidditch player made her quicker, and she grabbed the older girl, holding onto her as she spoke. "It's too dangerous. Besides, there's nothing you can do to save him there. Here at least now that you're here, you can help Draco find a cure."

For some reason it was this that made Hermione fully break, and once more she was crying. Only this time it was in a way Ginny had never seen someone cry before; like her whole world was unraveling. She's exhausted Ginny realized as Luna helped her guide Hermione back to the sofa to sit down. When Hermione was finally able to find the right words, an explanation was formulated. "I wanted to leave. When he suggested that I shouldn't have come, I barely fought him. It was all becoming too much… watching him die, not being able to do anything about it. Part of me kept wishing I hadn't gone there- hadn't met the Bloody 65th and learned about the person he had to be when I fought with them. Part of me kept wishing I had stayed here and looked for a cure instead of falling further down the rabbit hole with him. He gave me an out and I took it. I've failed him. It's like when Ron left all over again…"

"No it's not" Luna said softly, speaking for the first time. "You were right; you can do him more good here. And maybe part of him knew that as well."

"I don't even know that I can find a cure…"

"It's not just that " Luna interrupted. "If Harry's going to survive, maybe he will have to become this `Punisher' again. Maybe he needs to let the darkness in for a while, if it'll make him stronger. But he can't do that if you're there."

"Only because I judged him! I judged him for doing what he needs to do and now he hates me."

Luna laughed, but it wasn't a cruel or petty laugh. "He could never hate you. Hermione, who do you think has kept Harry from becoming evil all this time? Clearly he has a killer within him, but he's still chosen to be a hero- even when it nearly gets him killed, even when it nearly drives him mad. It would only be too easy for him to choose to blanket himself in the darkness- but instead he keeps coming back to the light. When he gets back, he'll need you to show him the way."

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"Brooding in the dark never seems to provide solutions to problems" Jiao said in her whispering soft tone as she found Harry Potter seated in the shadowy corner of the camp's central tent.

"There are no solutions. Only more problems." He responded shortly, standing up and walking towards her. "Is it time for the hunt?"

"Yes. Let's go." He followed her silently into the snowy night and stuck by her side as she took the lead of a massive group of soldiers, each armed with a wand and torch. After fifteen minutes had passed, she decided she no longer felt like keeping her silence. "I couldn't help but notice the admirable Hermione Granger leaving the camp earlier."

"I told her to leave" Harry responded, his tone gruff.

To Harry's surprise, Jiao gave him a "tsking" sound like that of a scolding mother. "The others here may know you as Punisher, but I know you somewhat better. The hardened act does nothing for me."

"What act? Did you not just see me bash Jay's face in?"

"Yes, you got a bit carried away. But I also know that you didn't fight him because you wanted to hurt someone. You did it for me." He looked at her now and she was instantly certain she was right. "You knew that Jay has been nothing but a burden on my leadership of the Bloody 65th. Given another month or so he would have tried to lead a coup, and he may have been successful. There were still men and women who were loyal to him. I could have bested Jay in a duel, but that would have only further fueled their ire. You got rid of him the best way you could; a physical challenge. The rules of the Bloody Armies dictate he must leave forever, and you knew that."

Harry sighed. "Yes, maybe that's true. But that wasn't the only reason. I did want to hurt him. I did want to win. There's always been a part of me that's dark. I always thought it was because I had a piece of Voldemort inside me, but for the first time now there are no traces of him left in me. And still I feel this compulsion for violence. Being back here; it's really bringing out the worst in me."

"So that's why you sent her away."

"Yes, that and the fact that I'm a stupid prat. I'm tired Jiao. I'm dying and the pain… well it's worse than I suppose I let on. Maybe the violence makes me feel more powerful, less weak."

"You may have some darkness in you Harry, but that doesn't make you evil. I've seen evil, and that is not you."

"Perhaps but…" he never got a chance to finish his thought because right then there was a scream in the night air. He turned quickly and looked to the source of the sound, but now there were dark, barely visible shapes fluttering around them at an impossible speed. They wove in between each soldier, forcing them to separate, pushing them deeper into the cold and dark.

Harry brandished his torch, doing his best to keep close to Jiao and keep the ijiraq from coming between them. Back to back they moved in small circles, aiming an array of stunning, maiming and sleeping spells at the blurry streaks that were their enemy. Nothing seemed to have an effect, although it was difficult to ascertain if their spells were even hitting the desired targets.

Screams faded off into the darkness and Harry and Jiao seemed to suddenly be alone. A bone breaking, frigid breeze tore through the black night and then total silence. Slowly Harry was able to make out the shape of the ijiraq standing like pale ghosts in the distance, closing in on them from all directions. "I have an idea" Jiao panted, and she rose her wand in a circular motion, igniting flames that formed a lasso of gold and ruby flames, dancing outwards at the attacking creatures.

"Firestorm" Harry muttered, a grin on his face despite the seriousness of the situation. He remembered seeing Dumbledore perform this spell shortly before his death. There was a reason Jiao was the leader of the Bloody 65th; she was nearly as powerful as Dumbledore and almost as clever as Hermione. The flames drove the ijiraq back, giving them some distance to escape. Harry parted the flames with a simple gesture and pulled Jiao through, grabbing her arm as they sprinted away from the dying flames and back towards the camp. As they ran they generated massive flames to guide them, flames that served both as a warning to any lingering ijiraq and as a beacon to any surviving members of the Bloody 65th.

As they traveled, stragglers who had been divided from the troop re-joined, a chorus of swears and foul language accompanying panting as they ran for their lives. It wasn't until they were in the warm safety of the camp's central tent that they were able to get a headcount.

"We're missing 15 people" Jiao noted, her tone calm but her eyes ablaze with a brilliant fury. They were now clustered by the center of the camp, a large bonfire lighting their numbers for her to get a count.

"Fire seemed to work" Harry noted, crossing his arms across his chest to keep out the cold that was growing inside of him.

"Yes, it drove them away but it didn't destroy them. We'll need a much stronger spell than firestorm."

Harry frowned. "I would suggest fiendfyre but…"

"It's too unpredictable" she agreed, finished his thought. "It could end up killing our own people."

Harry thought of Vincent Crabbe's failed attempt to use fiendfyre in the room of requirement. As he recalled the vicious flames that had taken Crabbe's life he was suddenly reminded of another fire. He remembered watching the beautiful and mysterious Anna burn alive at the Cradle when Riddle's unbridled magical Channeling exploded. He remembered it so vividly that it seemed to be his own crime, and this caused him to shudder.

"I think I can conjure a spell strong enough to destroy the ijiraq" he suggested. He described to her the spell he had seen through Riddle's memories, and instantly she shook her head in disagreement.

"That spell destroyed an entire island and killed a whole village of powerful magical beings. If possible, it is even less safe than fiendfyre."

"Fire of that magnitude can be controlled" Harry argued. "I saw Voldemort control it once while dueling Albus Dumbledore. I believe that Damon also used a similar spell when he burned Ville Cache in Paris."

"How do you know that Damon was able to control it? From what I've hear, half of Ville Cache was burned to the ground."

"Exactly. Only half was burned down. It was a warning fire; an attempt to scare or possibly kill my friends who were getting too close to uncovering his secrets. If Damon couldn't control the fire, the whole place would be gone. Possibly worse; it may have spread into muggle Paris as well."

"I see your point. But what makes you think you can summon a spell of this magnitude and then control it? From what you've told me, this Damon is centuries old. Surely he's had far more time to practice."

Harry quirked a half smile. "Self control isn't my problem. And as for summoning the spell, I have someone close by who can tell me how to do that." And with those final words he reached beneath his heavy jacket and produced the pendant that he had grown so accustomed to keeping near his heart. "I think it's time Tom Riddle and I have a chat."

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"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Hermione asked for the thousandth time. "I've always wanted to visit Mould on the Wold. Surprisingly none of my work with the Department of Magical Law has taken me there, but…"

"It's not exactly the best time for a vacation Hermione" Ron interrupted.

She rolled her eyes in response. "I know that Ronald. That is why I really SHOULD go, because you could be attacked if Damon perceives that you're meeting with this Adrian…"

"I'll make sure no harm comes to Luna" Ron blurted out, and then realizing how it sounded he amended his word choice. "We'll both keep each other safe."

"I know you're capable Ron, but what if it's a trap? We know nothing of Adrian aside from what Luna saw in a vision, and since her powers of clairvoyance are quite new…"

"I trust Adrian" interrupted Luna in her typical, dreamy tone. She had approached so silently that Hermione jumped a bit. Malfoy Manor had a tendency for making one shaky, and despite the fact that this had been her makeshift home for over a month now, she could not forget about what had happened during her first visit. She fell into a nightmarish moment of retrospect, and in that moment she could nearly hear Bellatrix' horrendous laughter emanate from the shadows.

"We'll find Adrian and learn more about what he has to share about Damon" Ron promised, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. "Then we'll be back before you know it! Besides, you're the clever one- you're needed here with Ginny and Draco, looking for a cure to save Harry."

Hermione wrapped Ron in one of her famous hugs and for a moment marveled at how tall he had grown. Of course she had known he was a fully grown man now, but sometimes she still saw him as the same little boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express years ago. Despite their long and storied history, she wasn't sure she would ever stop seeing a glimmer of that little boy she had grown up with. "Just be careful" she whispered, and then she hugged Luna as well, giving them both a little wave before they apparated away.

Once they were gone there was only the cold dark manor left, and an eerie silence. She headed down towards to dungeon to help Draco and Ginny with their potions research, which had revealed no solutions whatsoever. She had partly been worried for Ron and Luna's safety when she urged them to let her come along, but largely she had been looking an excuse to avoid Draco Malfoy. Ever since their failed plot to defeat Damon she had felt an elevated sense of insecurity regarding the former Slytherin.

It wasn't that she thought he had intended for things to fall apart in the battle. No, she was aware that she was just as much to blame as anyone else. It was that he had somehow convinced her to keep a secret from Harry, something she had long ago promised herself she would not do. The fact was, Draco's intentions might have some gleam of goodness about them, but he was still a Slytherin, filled with tricks and lies.

When she found them in the basement Draco was fast at work studying the leaves of some sort of herb through an absurd looking pair of magnifying spectacles. Ginny was slowly stirring a large cauldron of gross bubbling orange goo and she looked bored to tears. In fact, when Hermione approached she seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.

"When is the last time you got a proper rest?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone as not to disturb the pensive Draco.

"Oh, I slept a full five hours last night thanks to a lovely herbal remedy Draco lent me" Ginny responded. "It's him who hasn't slept in… oh I don't know, days?" Ginny said this in a tone loud enough to snap Draco from his work and he looked up sharply, giving Hermione a strange look as though he'd only just noticed she was there.

"Oh right, I heard you were back. Good, I need help with these matters…" he gestured lazily to a piece of parchment on which there was an incredibly long list of ingredient preparations and half finished theories.

"Most of this is nonsense" Hermione argued as she squinted at his slanted handwriting.

"Not to me it isn't" Draco snapped.

"When is the last time you slept?"

"Thanks for your concern mum, but I caught a snooze not two hours ago."

"That doesn't count!" Ginny interrupted. "He dozed off standing up for about five minutes and then I accidentally dropped a beaker and it woke him up."

"Well, if anyone sounds like they need more sleep from that story it's you Weasley" Draco snarled. "That was one of my favorite beakers."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I fixed it easily enough. Some of us can Channel you know."

"Yes, thanks for the reminder" he retorted coldly, and it was not the first time that Hermione felt as though she was caught in the middle of argument between the two of them that was an uncomfortable cross between angry and flirtatious.

"Enough, enough" Hermione quickly interjected. "Draco, you clearly need rest. You're no good to us falling asleep on your feet. Explain your theory to me and then go catch a few hours sleep."

"First off Granger, who put you in charge? Sleeping with Potter doesn't make you the leader by way of association. Secondly, I hardly think I'll be able to `catch a few hours sleep' based on the pain."

"The pain?" she asked, thrown off first by his rudeness and then by his random excuse for avoiding bed.

"You just spent several days with Harry, who I imagine is having the same symptoms. It feels like someone broke one or several ribs in my chest. It's been getting harder to breathe."

She grabbed the edge of the table, processing what he said. She had seen Harry wince in pain a few times, but he had not spoken much about it. Was he hiding how much pain he was in from me? she wondered, and the immediate and resolute answer was that of course he was. Harry Potter and his stupid bloody nobility.

There wasn't time to get upset about it now. There was also the very real possibility that Harry was controlling the pain through Channeling. If Damon can poison a sword with a spell, I'm sure Harry can control his pain. They were entering a whole different realm of magic lately and it made her very uncomfortable. She hated not knowing where to find answers.

Taking a deep breath she turned back to Draco, her expression a mask of determination. "I'm not telling you to go to bed because I have some motherly concern for you Malfoy. It's quite the opposite. I hate to admit it, but you are a bit more skilled at potions than I am. We are going to need you to have your head on straight and that can hardly occur if you're busy nodding off every few hours and jotting down gibberish in between. I need you to sleep so you can useful to us. So for once, could you try to stop being a git and just do as you're asked?!"

Draco removed his strange spectacles and gazed at her through his cold grey eyes. "Fine then, but I will be back in no more than four hours. But understand this Granger, we are on a fucking race for time here so every minute counts."

"I don't need you to tell me that. Just explain what you're trying to do here."

After about five minutes of making sense of his scribbles and diagrams, Hermione was able to grasp his latest experiment and he was headed up the stone steps to his bedroom. Just before he turned the bend he looked back over his shoulder at the brunette witch who was already picking up where he'd left off. "You know, I couldn't really understand what Harry saw in all your bossiness. But now I'm seeing there's something a bit intriguing about a woman who takes charge."

"Thanks for the compliment Draco" Hermione muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm. "I'll store that one away for a rainy day."

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Harry stood alone in Jiao's pristine white tent. It was peaceful here, almost too peaceful for what he was about to attempt. Still, it had to be done and this was as good of a place as any. He removed his heavy coat and placed it by the magical fire fit that heated the tent; its flames burned a periwinkle blue that reminded him of Hermione but he pushed that thought away.

If she knew what I was about to do… he shuddered to imagine her reaction. He could hear her voice reprimanding him, "this is utter lunacy Harry. You can't control Riddle. Have you forgotten how close he nearly drove you to madness?"

He hadn't forgotten. But there was a deeper, darker secret that he had kept hidden since he had sealed what remained of Riddle's soul away in the pendant that he now clutched in the palm of his hand. He had missed Riddle's presence. At first it had started as a strange sense of loneliness and he would find himself wandering from one room to the next in Malfoy Manor as though looking for someone or something. Eventually that loneliness transformed itself into a strange addiction; a sense of longing surrounding the pendant that he permanently wore around his neck. Hermione, Draco and the rest thought that it was Riddle's power Harry was drawn to, but Harry himself had secretly realized that it was more than that.

He missed Tom Riddle's presence in his mind.

I'm losing it again Harry determined. None of it made any sense. Riddle was a warped being, a lunatic who called himself "Lord Voldemort" for no reason than the sheer need to feel special. Riddle/ Voldemort was a murderer and a sadist. And yet there was another thing about Riddle that few had considered. Some part of him had existed within Harry Potter since he was an infant.

As twisted as it might seem, extracting Riddle from his mind had left him feeling strange; like he didn't quite know himself. He felt like a part of who he was had been crudely amputated, and yet there was no medicine to cure that strange sense of loss. This realization almost made him long for death. What sort of monster have I become that I could miss such a soulless madman?

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his wild raven hair. He could spend ages deliberating his own sanity, but at the end of the day there were some things that simply needed to be dealt with, and procrastination did not help. He closed his fingers tightly around the pendant and shut his eyes.

Riddle. We need to talk.

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