The Final Battle

Seventh Year Summer:

The boy named Harry Potter woke up, breathing hard and fast, in a small bed on 4 Privet Drive. Through the night he had had a horrible nightmare about Hermione, laying face down in a bloody field of death. Her hands were ivory and he had seen blue and green veins running down her arm. She had been unmistakably dead. Going by instinct, Harry got up and felt around for a piece of parchment and a quill. Climbing back onto his bed, he pushed his long ebony hair out of his eyes and started to write.

Dear Hermione,

How are you? I know I don't normally write to you, but I had another nightmare. This one was different than the other ones. It was much more frightening. In my dream, Hermione, you were dead. I'm still scared, even though it seems to be just a dream. I had the strangest feeling: The sun was shining, and the clouds were up but you were gone forever. I wanted to die too...Please write back. I need to know that you're all right, and to reassure myself that this was only a nightmare and not reality.

Lots of love,

Harry

Taking Hedwig out of her cage, he folded the parchment and tied it securely onto the snowy owl's clawed foot.

"Take this to Hermione, Hedwig, quickly," ordered Harry, giving Hedwig a light pat and letting her nip his ear reassuringly.

It was a bit comforting. Spreading out her wings, Hedwig soared into the night sky, making her way through the darkness. Harry shivered from the cold, half-closed the window, and sat back down again on the bed. Trying to go back to sleep, Harry closed his eyes and started breathing deeply. This didn't seem to work so instead he started on something that would distract him from the nightmare. Defense against the Dark Arts homework - a two-page essay on Death Eater habits was due on September the second so Harry decided to start on it. Halfway through it, he sighed and lay back, and fell asleep. He didn't remember his dreams, whatever they were, and when he woke, the sun was shining and the nightmare seemed childish. He continued working on his homework for another hour or so. Just as he was starting to forget about the nightmare, Hedwig flew through the open window and landed gracefully next to Harry's pillow.

"Oh, Hedwig. Thanks for doing this so quickly. Good job. Here, I've got some Owl Treats in that tray," murmured Harry.

Tearing open the letter, he found a short letter in Hermione's obsessively neat handwriting.

Dear Harry,

Don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine, a little tired, but that's okay. Maybe you should talk to Dumbledore. Did the dream have anything to do with Voldemort, by any chance? You know he hasn't attacked in ages! Maybe this is a warning or something... I don't know, just be careful, okay? I don't know what I'd do without you.

Best friends forever,

Hermione

Sighing, Harry put away the letter. Harry glanced at his watch. He had gotten it for his birthday. Its hand pointed to "Time to get up." Opening the door, Harry quickly ran down the stairs, making sure to jump over the squeaky steps. He took out the frying pan from the cupboard. Opening the refrigerator, Harry took out eight eggs. One egg for himself, two eggs for Aunt Petunia, the same for Uncle Vernon and three eggs for Dudley. Just as he had cracked the eggs onto the frying pan, Dudley stormed down the stairs like a baby elephant. Soon after Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came down making a tremendous fuss over Dudley.

"Now, where is that boy, breakfast should have been served five minutes ago! He can't do anything right!" bellowed Vernon Dursley.

"I'm right here," replied Harry, towering over Uncle Vernon. He had grown a lot recently. He was almost as tall as Ron was. Uncle Vernon scowled, trying to stare him in the eye, but he had to look up to meet Harry's emerald ones, and decided perhaps his nephew wasn't very intimidated by someone a mere 5' 8''.

"Yes, well, hurry up, then!" said Uncle Vernon gruffly.

"Yes, sir." Harry managed to smile, making Uncle Vernon's scowl darken.

Right before Uncle Vernon was about to go to work, Harry stopped him.

"Uncle Vernon," he called out. "I need to go shopping for school things. School starts in one week and I haven't got anything."

"Well, then, I guess you'll be going to school ill equipped - what a pity," sneered Vernon.

"Well, okay. I suppose you could deal with my teachers. They'll be pretty angry, and I'm not sure if they'd be very happy with you." Harry held his breath, hoping this would do the trick. Vernon Dursley thought hard. It looked like difficult work; Dursley's weren't known for being the brightest of chaps.

"Oh, okay, go, and don't come back till next summer!"

Uncle Vernon had to shout because Harry was already up the stairs by 'don't'.

When Harry got to his room, he quickly shut and bolted the door. Kneeling on the floor he ripped open the loose floorboard and took out two pieces of parchment and his eagle feather quill. Harry bit his lip and wrote the same very short, untidy message to both Hermione and Ron:

Hi. I'm doing well here. Could you both meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at eleven o'clock tomorrow?

****

"Harry!" two excited voices, shouted in unison.

Turning around, Harry shouted and waved, feeling he could burst with relief and happiness. His two most favorite people in the whole world standing together, waving enthusiastically back at him, both safe and sound.

"Hello!" exclaimed Harry, jogging up to them, giving them his famous lopsided grin.

"Good to see you," Ron said, thumping Harry on the back.

"Oh, Harry, I've been so worried about you! I'm so glad you're okay!" Hermione said, giving Harry a huge hug. "That dream has me worried, still, though..."

"Wait, back up! What dream?" asked Ron. "I had a dream..." Harry hesitated, then rushed on, "that Hermione had died, in a battle. It was really freaky, but I haven't had any others since then."

"You should tell Dumbledore," advised Ron after a silence, wide-eyed and uneasy.

"No, I think it will go away. Unless you think Hermione's in danger..." trailed off Harry.

Just as Ron was about to say something, Mrs. Weasley came bustling to them. She saw Harry standing in the middle of his two best friends and gave him a big motherly hug.

"Oh, I've missed you!" said Mrs. Weasley. "How are you, dear? Have you been eating enough? You look awfully thin..."

By now Harry was used to these encounters and just smiled and nodded his head. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem at all put out by this trivial action. "Well then you three, it's time to go shopping!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ron groaned at the thought. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione started off down the crowded street, Mrs. Weasley asking Hermione where she had gotten that lovely knapsack.

"Women," Ron muttered, shaking his head.

He and Harry grinned at each other, and started off together.

***

The train ride to school was bittersweet. Everyone seemed to be happily chattering with friends - but school was about to begin. For the seventh years, this would be their last train ride to Hogwarts, not including after Christmas or Easter, for those who went home. As the Hogwarts Express slowed down and stopped in the dark station, Hagrid was there to meet them.

"Firs' years this way! Firs' - Arry! How are yeh, mate? Yeh've grown."

"Hi, Hagrid!" shouted Harry over the noise. "Don't you think the first years should come to Hogwarts by the carriages instead of the boats? It's quite windy out."

"I can't, Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid shouted, while making his way to the boats. "And besides, it's tradition! Once-in-a-lifetime treat, this is! Firs' years! Follow me!"

****

Looking around the Great Hall, Harry noticed that his archenemy, Malfoy, wasn't at the Slytherin Table. Shrugging, Harry turned and smiled as he watched the first years timidly walk to the front of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall briskly walked up the to the front of the Great Hall and placed a stool on the ground for all to see. Then McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and placed it on the stool.

The Hat began to sing:

"Long years age,

Four young ones shared,

A dream, a goal, a plan,

To build a school for sorcerers,

And thus they began,

They talked long hours on their plans,

They named your Houses each,

And separate rivalries still stand,

In those that we here teach,

Slytherin, famous for cunning ways,

Gryffindor have nerve and heart,

Hard working Hufflepuffs, all true,

And wise Ravenclaws each take part,

So here I am to put you in,

Your places, though I'm old,

This chance you have here,

Though not rare,

Holds memories of gold!"

The whole school applauded and the sorting began. Harry, Ron, and Hermione clapped politely but everyone was getting restless by the time the sorting had ended. Just as Dumbledore had stood up to make a speech, Draco strolled through the Great Hall doors.

"Welcome back, Mr. Malfoy. I trust you have had an enjoyable summer?" Dumbledore said to Draco.

Draco nodded his head but kept walking to sit with his fellow Slytherins. Although Draco walked his arrogant way, he had somehow changed, Harry noticed. He was not sure what it was; he seemed more aware of everything and yet more confused. Harry watched Draco carefully as he gracefully sat down and without a word, began to eat.

"Do you notice anything different about Malfoy?" Harry asked Hermione and Ron.

Hermione looked at Draco carefully and said, "Nope, he still seems his spiteful self to me."

"Well, he did come to school late if that's what you mean," added Ron.

Harry grunted but said nothing. If his friends couldn't notice anything then there was no point in talking about it.

"So, I heard your going to be Quidditch captain this year!" exclaimed Ron.

"I hope so - but the team still has to vote," replied Harry.

"Well, that's quite a responsibility, don't you think?" added Hermione.

"Yeah but I've always wanted to be captain!" exclaimed Harry.

"I'm sure you'll get the job, Harry," assured Ron patting Harry on the back.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry grinned.

In the common room, Harry and Ron played a game of wizard's chess while Hermione read "Hogwarts, a History."

"Doesn't it ever get boring?" Ron muttered. "She already has it memorized."

"Well, I sure am glad to be back," said Hermione.

"Yeah, try spending three months with the Dursleys," Harry said, shuddering at the thought but laughing weakly.

"Checkmate, Harry!" Ron suddenly exclaimed.

Both Hermione and Harry sighed as they remembered that Ron wouldn't stop a game of chess until he won.

"OK, then, everybody off to bed," shouted Hermione to the Gryffindors in her most authoritative voice.

Slowly, the Gryffindors walked up the stairs to their dormitories. Harry and Ron said good night to Hermione and she left to her Head Girl room. Harry and Ron went with Seamus and Neville to the seventh year boy's dorms.

****

The next morning after a breakfast the owl mail came swooping through the open windows. Harry and Ron received no mail but Hermione got the daily issue of "The Daily Prophet."

"Oh, my goodness! You guys, come and look at this!" exclaimed Hermione. "I always knew, of course, but...I never thought it would actually happen!"

On the front cover of the "Daily Prophet" was a picture of Lucius Malfoy. It said:

Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater? Just two days ago, writes Thomas McKean, Daily Prophet reporter, Ministry officials received a tip as to the location and time that a Death Eater meeting was going to take place. When the seven trained Aurors got there, they killed many Death Eaters on the spot. Of the many that were killed, Lucius Malfoy, a respected employee of the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, was present.

***

Before Harry read any further he glanced up at Draco and saw him staring into space. He also held a copy of the "Daily Prophet." There was only one tear that escaped and ran quickly down Draco's face. Even though Draco didn't really cry, his face was contorted into a vision of pain.

"Sweet Jesus! Have you ever seen Draco look like that!" cried Ron.

"Leave him be, Ron," Harry calmly replied. "He has enough to deal with without us getting in his hair. His father died. From experience, it's awful to have someone bothering you about that. Just let him alone."

At that same time as he said this, Professor McGonagall came up to Draco and took him away to Dumbledore's office.

When Draco and Professor McGonagall reached the stone statue guarding the headmaster's office, Professor McGonagall said the password as if it was a foreign language. Draco hardly noticed. "Jolly Ranchers."

The statue suddenly came to life and jumped out of the way so that they could walk up to Professor Dumbledore's office. When the revolving stairs stopped, Professor McGonagall knocked on the door.

"Come, Minerva," Dumbledore called.

Walking into his office, Draco would normally have been amazed at his surroundings. A fire was blazing in the hearth and next to it was a red-gold phoenix.

"You may go now, Minerva, and thank you for bringing him," said Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall nodded her head and walked out.

"So, Draco, please have a seat." Dumbledore smiled kindly at Draco as he stiffly sat down. "I was wondering if you wanted to tell me anything? Any problems?"

Draco stared at Dumbledore open mouthed. How could Dumbledore ask him if he was having any problems when right on the front page of the newspaper was an article on his dead father! thought Draco. Perhaps he is mad.

Draco answered coldly; "Sir, my father just died and you are asking me how I am. How am I supposed to answer?"

Dumbledore sighed, "Draco, I know it must be hard for you, losing your father.

"Damn right you are," muttered Draco.

Dumbledore, seeming to ignore this went on, "That was why I was wondering if you would like someone to help you out, someone to confide in. Obviously, you wouldn't tell Crabbe or Goyle, but I had thought you might tell me. I was wrong. You may go now."

Getting up off the chair, Draco walked out the door, fully aware of Dumbledore's sympathetic eyes on his back.

***

"So, what do you say for a game of Exploding Snap?" asked Ron.

Both Hermione and Harry agreed. By the end of the game, Harry had one eyebrow, Ron had lost all of his eyelashes, and Hermione hadn't lost any hair.

"You guys look amazing. Let me go and get my camera!" Hermione said, laughing.

So, saying that, she ran up to her dorm and brought down her wizard camera. It looked almost exactly like a muggle camera.

"Okay, you guys, smile and wave at the camera," Hermione said with a grin.

So that was that, a picture of the two boys, carefree and happy, one of the last pictures they would have like it. They looked ordinary, except for the darker-haired one's forehead, which was marred by a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. Once in a while, as they would look at the picture, a long time later, the boy with black hair, and a scar would put his hand to his forehead in mild irritation. But he didn't stop smiling.