The Price of Peace

Chapter II

Harry tried to absorb the news. He could feel the surprise from his three supporters as well. "So, Potter, do you intend to try and kill me?" Voldemort mocked, "Or just look upon me with awe?"

Harry rallied. "Why do you still want to live? Tortured like this!"

Voldemort snorted. "Everyone is frightened of killing me, Potter. My ex-followers will turn me over to the Ministries, and they will trap me underground in some old platinum mine, where I cannot Disapparate. Sooner or later, you will die, and I, in this body or disembodied and looking for a new one, will return."

"And who will follow you? The Pure-bloods will reject you. Are you going to raise an army of Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, with your record?" Harry was glad Hermione and Edward had talked about Voldemort's options.

Harry could feel Voldemort's anger. "I told you before, Potter, there is no real good or evil, just power! There will always be those who want power, and I am powerful! I will rely on them, not these fools with their own agendas!"

"Then one will stab you in the back, just like Bellatrix and Regulus!" Harry could feel Voldemort's anger grow, but there was an underlying fear, and a feeling of desperation, that were growing even faster. Harry's anger was also growing, almost matching his opponent's. "You're afraid to die, and I sometimes don't know if you should; maybe you should live for thousands of years, tens of thousands of years, rejected by every generation. People can point at you, and say 'See children, that deformed creature is evil. As long as you DON'T act or think like THAT thing, you're probably not evil."

Voldemort roared incoherently at Harry. Harry yelled back. "You've accomplished nothing in your existence except death and destruction! Even by your own sick standards, you've failed, time and time again!"

Voldemort's mind again tried to attack Harry's mind and spirit, using all Voldemort's power, and this time Harry felt the attack and fought back. Rather than finding himself inside Harry's mind where he could attack, however, Voldemort found his spirit surrounded by Harry's mind instead. Voldemort realized his last mistakes -- he had forgotten Harry was not alone and that Harry had obviously been trained in this form of magic. They were not fused, like they had been for those moments the previous June; instead Harry was all around him, squeezing the life force that Tom Riddle had mutated time and time again. He could tell Harry was being supported by at least two other minds, and one of them, Edward's, was nearly as accomplished in mental attacks as Voldemort was himself -- and together, the minds were much more powerful.

Harry's anger was focused by Edward's power, and Voldemort found himself, for the first time, in a far weaker position in a mental battle. Harry could also draw on Edward's raw power as well as his own, and Luna's Second Sight allowed Harry to find every chink in Voldemort's defenses, and slip through them.

Harry's anger was also supported by love: the love Harry had had for Sirius and the love Harry wished he could have shared with his parents; Harry's love for Edward, Carole, and the baby; Harry's romantic love for Luna and his platonic love for Hermione. Harry's affection for Ron, Ginny, Neville, Remus, Hagrid, and a host of others fed his power, and the love Edward, Luna, and Hermione felt for Harry fed it even more.

Voldemort could touch Harry physically after being recreated in part by Harry's blood, but the love Harry contained burned Voldemort's spirit even more than it had burned the Voldemort/Quirrel hybrid's body four and a half years earlier. It burned Voldemort's spirit now more than it had six months before at the Ministry, when Harry had driven Voldemort from his mind with the force of his emotions. And this time, Voldemort could not escape.

Sunday, December 22, 1996

Harry woke up with a headache and unable to move. The light was streaming into his hotel room, hitting him right in the face.

After a moment's reflection, the previous night's battle came back to him, making him feel sick to his stomach. Then, the reason he was unable to move became apparent, distracting him. He had been exhausted, and had fallen instantly into a deep, healing sleep. Luna must have as well, as Harry felt arms circle around his neck and hug his face to a firm chest, while hair covered his head.

All dark thoughts fled. Harry leaned forward and stretched up past the breasts, and kissed lips softer than he remembered. The pair adjusted slightly, and the sunlight must have hit the girl's eyes. "Busy old fool, unruly sun. . . ." the girl murmured through the kiss before kissing Harry more deeply than he had ever been kissed before.

Harry's eyes flew open, although his lips were still engaged. "E'mione!" he was almost able to say.

Hermione's eyes flew open, and their lips unlocked. "Harry!" she gasped. Harry removed his hand from its intimate placement.

"My goodness," Luna said, coming in from the bathroom, "I leave you two alone for three minutes. . . ."

Harry and Hermione separated from each other guiltily. Luna knelt on the bed and kissed Hermione on the forehead and gathered the pair into a hug. She kissed Harry lightly on the lips. "Now I was just teasing! Don't go feeling guilty or anything. After what happened last night, we just collapsed here. We're all very respectably dressed, and Harry thought you were me, and I assume you thought Harry was Ron."

Hermione nodded, almost as red in the face as Ron would have been in a similar situation. "Now, since I'm sure you two don't want to carry on," both Harry and Hermione shook their heads, "and it's still somewhat early, maybe we should talk about last night?"

Harry's blush disappeared as he went very pale. "I did it, didn't I? I killed Voldemort."

"We killed him," Hermione said. "You supplied the focus, but you couldn't have done it without our active support and cooperation." Hermione's lower lip trembled. "We actually . . . killed someone. We murdered someone in cold blood. As evil as he was . . . we still executed him." Hermione started to cry.

Luna and Harry brought Hermione back into a group hug. "I feel . . . awful," Harry said a few minutes later, when all three had stopped crying. Harry was now laying on his back, a girl cradled in each arm, lying against his chest. "I feel awful," he repeated, "but I don't think I feel like a murderer."

"I never thought I could kill someone," Luna said thoughtfully. "And, having done it, I can't see how some people can kill so . . . casually. Even the quick death of such an awful person was awful to just witness, let alone . . . participate in. I can understand how we can feel justified, but how can some enjoy it?" She shuddered at the memories.

"It was justified, wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "I mean, if someone didn't . . . execute him, he would have just kept on coming back, killing more innocent people, right?"

"Right," Harry said. He did not know what made him feel worse: having destroyed the spirit of Voldemort, or having divided the responsibility with two of the most important people in his life, two lovely women he cared so much for. Still, "He would have killed again and again. And, at least according to that damn Prophecy, only I could have done it. I knew I might have to do it last night! I'm sorry you two had to help. . . ."

"Don't think that way, Harry," Hermione told him.

"I don't like that you had to do that," Luna stated, "but you did have to. And, since you had to, then I'm glad I helped you. You always have to remember, you didn't do it alone, my love."

"We're with you, always," Hermione said. The two kissed Harry's cheeks, then Hermione got off the bed. "I guess I should go back to my room and get changed. I have to meet Mum and Dad for breakfast at Nine."

"See you Christmas Eve, Hermione," Harry said. After a few more goodbyes, Hermione left.

Luna looked at the clock. "I guess we should shower and get ready for breakfast, too." She walked over to the door which connected her room to Harry's. "If you'd care to join me, you can find out how to distinguish my body from Hermione's."

Harry blushed, but went to join her, his hormones washing away his feelings of guilt, at least for the moment -- which was Luna's intention. They had never done anything similar before.

Ron Weasley was bored and angry. Bored, because there was little to do at the Burrow. He and his mother were home alone. Mr. Weasley was putting in overtime now, to insure himself time off for Christmas. Bill and Fleur had just set up housekeeping together, and were almost never seen by anyone outside of work. Percy was involved with the negotiations with the Pure-Bloods, and had still not said anything to any member of the family since the revelations of the previous June, except that he now nodded a greeting to his father at work. Charlie was back in Romania; the twins were living over their shop. Ginny was at Neville's. Worst of all, Hermione was with Harry.

Ron was angry because he had been excluded from whatever Harry was up to. Harry had told him it was not a matter of trust, but a matter of who he needed to help him. That did not make Ron feel much better.

Ron was not sure what Hermione could do that he could not, and was not sure he wanted to find out. He tried not to begrudge her whatever task she was doing, even if Harry was supposed to be his best mate. He knew he loved Hermione; he just missed being with her.

Still, the sextet would be together in the early afternoon of Christmas Eve, and hopefully he would find things out then. Until then, Ron had to pack up the Christmas presents that were going to Potter Place.

Ron would not have been quite so envious of Ginny if he could have seen her. Neville was, as always, very sweet towards her. Still, except for Neville himself, visiting the Longbottoms was like visiting Molly Weasley's stuffiest relatives. There was no yelling and no laughing at Longbottom Hall. There were few Longbottoms, but Grandmother Longbottom had a large family. Ginny had decided that Neville must be closely related to every stuffy, well-off wizarding family that was not closely related to the Blacks and Malfoys and the other darker Wizarding families, and in that, she was not far from wrong. Had Ginny been familiar with Victorian house parties, she would have made the comparison.

There were people coming and going all day every day, but there were never less than nine guests (besides Ginny) at any given time, and there were always sixteen at dinner (although who the sixteen were partially changed every evening). Breakfast was a huge buffet from 7:30 - 8:30; there was a three-course lunch (soup, salad, meat-and-veggie) at noon; high tea was at 4:30; and there was a six course dinner (soup, fish, meat-potato-hot veggie, salad, desert, cheese plate) at 8:00.

At least all that food gave Ginny and Neville lots of excuses to go walking between being stuffed with food. Neville's relatives seemed a bit confused -- obviously their opinion of him had gone up dramatically over the previous six months, but they still were not used to it. His having a guest present, for the first time, apparently made them even more respectful.

Ginny knew she really liked Neville, but she was not sure how far the relationship might go, or how long it might last. Neville obviously either was deeply in love with her, or thought he was. Between the politeness needed for the visit, her affection for Neville, and yet not wanting to give Neville too much encouragement, Ginny was starting to feel the stress of the visit by Monday evening.

Hermione Granger left the hotel with her parents late that Sunday morning in a very quiet mood. Up until the middle of the previous summer, she had been very open with her parents about the events in the wizarding world. Since then, she had heavily censored the information she'd given them.

She certainly had to censor what had happened the night before.

She had told them earlier that month about the proposed attempt at apartheid the Pure-Bloods were after, and so had no qualms about telling them about the appalling discovery of who was behind it. (Hermione felt that Harry still had not processed that bit of information.) However, the death of the Dark Lord had to be disguised. It was up to Dumbledore and Edward to work out what should be done about that bomb-shell. Hermione decided to put that all aside until Christmas Eve.

She and her parents would be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at Potter Place. Hermione decided she had best prepare them for the shedding of their blood for the protection of the House of Potter.

Hermione sighed. She rather expected them to either refuse to go, or show up with a box of sterilized lancets, for the proper drawing of blood.

"What's wrong, dear?" her mother asked.

"Missing Ron already?" her father teased.

The Lovegood's cottage, on the opposite side of Ottery St. Catchpole from the Weasleys, was still not quite restored from the Death Eater attack of the previous summer. Harry therefore spent Sunday afternoon, Monday, and Tuesday morning at the Lovegood's flat in Diagon Alley.

For the most part, being with Luna kept Harry from brooding too much on the death of Voldemort and the revelation of his Associate. At least, it kept him from brooding until he went to bed in the small guest room. Harry stayed awake until well after midnight that first night. That was when Luna slipped into the room that night and then the next one, and let Harry fall asleep in her arms, comforting him as he basically cried himself to sleep.

Because the Peace negotiations were very active (although so secret Dumbledore's spies could get nothing from the Ministry, nor could Snape get any information from his spies within the enemy), even the original terms being negotiated had not been revealed. However, the truce until January 6th had been well-publicized for over a week. Under the circumstances, The Truth could not come right out in opposition. The editors of The Daily Prophet had perhaps learned their lesson, and it too was somewhat cautious, although not to the degree of The Truth.

Still, Diagon Alley was a fairly festive place, as most denizens hoped there would be peace. Harry dug deep into one of the piles of gold in his Gringotts vault, and also made three trips into Muggle London. He was determined to make up for his lack of presents over the previous years, where only Ron and Hermione received presents of any real consideration. Luna went with him on most of his trips, both to make certain he did not go too far over-board and to make certain she did not buy her much, either.

Like herself, Luna could see Harry was putting off thinking about what had happened Saturday night, despite Harry's crying himself to sleep every night in her arms. By Christmas Eve, she hoped, they should be able to talk about it as a group, and Edward might have found out more information.

Edward, meanwhile, spent all day Sunday through Monday morning conferring with Dumbledore and Snape.

Edward had sent word to Dumbledore right after midnight, just as soon as he had determined the three teens had indeed suffered no physical damage. Carole had left with him, which is how Luna and Hermione ended up putting Harry to bed, and wound up falling asleep there as well.

Dumbledore had hurried off to confer with Fudge early the next morning, and gotten little satisfaction for his trouble.

Tuesday, December 24, 1996

Harry, Luna, and Mister Lovegood arrived at Potter Place at 10:00 am. Unlike the previous summer, when guests had arrived near the back-bridge, this winter they would arrive at the front bridge. They still had to arrive by portkey, of course, but the front bridge was set up for that. Guests could arrive in a mid-gothic-era reception hall, and pledge their friendliness there. The larger front-stone bridge was covered, although it was still over sixty yards from the end of the bridge to the main entrance to the castle. The house elves would move any heavy luggage.

Harry stayed in the reception hall, to await the other guests.

Ron and Molly were the next to arrive. Ron showed his mother around parts of the castle he knew, deposited the presents he was carrying under the huge tree in the solarium, and then escorted his mother to the fifth floor corridor that had some of the guest rooms.

Ron found Edward waiting for him as he took his rucksack into 'Harry's turret.' "What?" Ron asked, startled.

"We need to talk a little, Ron," Edward said.

"About Saturday night?" Edward nodded. "Well, it's about time!"

"Tell me," Edward asked, "if you were going to go into danger, what two friends would you want with you?"

"Harry," Ron said promptly. "I guess Hermione would be the other person; she usually is." Ron was not very pleased about the idea of Hermione going into danger anymore.

"How about if there was no physical danger, but there would be the need for fast thinking and intelligence."

"Hermione, of course," Ron answered. "And Harry, or maybe Ginny."

"What if there was a chance your mask would be stripped off?" Seeing that confused Ron, Edward tried to explain. "We all wear a mask; our personalities help hide our deepest emotions and secrets. Think about that aspect of yourself, Ron."

Ron looked very uncomfortable. "Tell me, who would you trust to see the most vulnerable parts of you?" Edward asked.

"I guess Hermione, and maybe Ginny." This wasn't something Ron thought he could easily share with anyone. But Hermione and Ginny might be more . . . accepting his weaknesses. "That's why Harry wanted Luna and Hermione with him Saturday night?"

"Exactly. Most of us males don't like showing our most vulnerable sides to other males, even our best mates. Now, as things turned out, we could have had you there, but we didn't know that before hand. Harry and I will explain things tonight, but in case it isn't clear, that's why he asked Luna and Hermione, his girlfriend and the girl who acts like his older sister."

"Thanks," Ron said, "I was wondering what was up." Edward smiled, but Ron stopped him. "Who all is coming, by the way?" He had been too upset about being left out to ask.

"A large number of Weasleys besides you," Edward answered. "Your Uncle Jacob; his son, wife, and two daughters, although of course they won't be staying here tonight; your parents; the twins; Bill and his girlfriend Fleur; Hermione and her parents; Ginny and Neville; Luna and her father, and Tonks. Add in three Potters, that's twenty-three for dinner tonight, eighteen staying sleeping here tonight. We could hold more."

"Not Professor Lupin?" Ron asked.

"It's a full moon tonight, Ron," Edward reminded him.

"Oh," Ron replied, feeling rather silly, "right."

"If he's up to it, he'll be here for breakfast, as will a number of others," Edward went on. "Everyone will probably be gone by noon on Boxing Day, except for Luna and her father. They'll be leaving in a few days."

"So fairly full," Ron said, for lack of anything else to say.

"Yes; a real family Christmas," Edward said, his voice sounding sad. Ron then remembered that the Potter family, while never the size of the Weasleys, had been a fairly substantial family before the massacre in 1978. "Come down to the breakfast room any time for lunch." Despite the name, Ron knew that was the smaller of the two dining rooms in the castle.

Ron decided that would be a good place to wait for everyone to show up.