Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Chapter Thirty-Three — Where Chains Will Never Bind You

"Take my hand, and lead me to salvation

Take my love, for love is everlasting

And remember the truth that once was spoken

To love another person is to see the face of God."

-Les Miserables, "Epilogue"

Sunday, November 16, 2003

"Hermione... how do we close it?" She met his gaze, mind blanking suddenly as to any answer. Harry’s words rang through the watching Death Eaters, all seeming to be focused on the spectacle of their Lord imprisoned within the nexus of the spell.

Hermione looked to Harry, then over to the whirling vortex which was still pulling bits of dried grass and whipping wind into its midst. She could feel her magical reserves being tapped, slowly being drained by the power of the nexus before them. Every manner of magical response to the problem flitted through her head, but none seemed to be the right one. Finite Encantatem would end the spell completely and loose Voldemort into the world again... Alohomora worked only on locks. The seconds ticked by and she looked back to Harry, frantic. "I don’t know."

Before the sound of her words died away, she heard a battle cry within the Death Eater ranks and steadied her wand, turning to face the oncoming wizards — and keep them away from Harry.

~

George closed back into formation, turning slightly to take on the Death Eaters closing from all sides. It hadn’t worked. "Expelliarmus!" A Death Eater was tossed aside by the force of the spell, and he ducked a hex in response.

It hadn’t worked. Dumbledore had failed them. It was likely this battle would be his last then, as it became harder and harder to draw on his magic to cast any spell at all. Harry’s vortex was using up so much... and when each of the Corners had been sucked dry, Voldemort would probably be set free. Either that, or they’d be killed by Death Eaters first.

And then the first spell hit him, a slicing spell that cut across his thigh and sent him to his knees in a howl of pain. He couldn’t dodge anymore, but if his magic was enough to keep the vortex open for just a little while longer, so Hermione could find the answer... maybe his death might be worth it.

~

Ron heard his brother’s cry of pain but forced himself to keep from turning and running to help. He had enough on his hands as it was. Ron and Draco were fighting side by side near the swirling green and gold sparks of Voldemort’s prison. Though only a few paces apart, they’d managed to not speak since they’d left the castle, and then it was only a curt "good luck" from each side.

The magic was being drained faster, he noticed. Either Harry’s reserves had run out completely, or George was dead. With a cry of anger, Ron sent a bulky Death Eater hurtling against the side of Voldemort’s prison. There was a flash of white and the man was flung away — though Voldemort’s prison was intact.

"Damnit, Weasley, don’t mess with the spell!" Malfoy snapped, turning for just a moment to berate his old enemy.

And turned away, Draco didn’t see the slim Death Eater coming up behind him. Ron let out a shout.

~

With a cry from Ron, Harry watched as his friend sent an opponent flying into the nexus spell. The jolt of white-hot magic which blasted through the connected spells sent Harry’s mind into action, even as he ignored Draco yelling and Ron shouting. When the jolt had hit, the incessant drain of magic had halted for just a moment. Though he kept his wand trained on Voldemort, keeping the spell active, he pushed the stresses of the battle from his mind and tried to focus, tried to remember what he’d been taught all those years ago at Hogwarts... nothing seemed obvious, nothing seemed to make sense to end it all.

To end it all.

And Harry knew.

~

Draco turned from Ron’s frantic shout to find himself mere inches from a Muggle gun. His eyes widened and he looked up into the masked face of the Death Eater threatening him, barely conscious of the fact that the Death Eater he’d been dueling had turned his sights on Weasley instead. The one with the gun slowly reached up with her other hand and slid mask and hood from her face, dropping them to the ground.

Narcissa. "Mum?" he gasped softly, chest tightening with filial emotion he hadn’t realized was still there.

"When Lord Voldemort rules, I’ll track down Blaise and that bastard child of yours and make sure the heir of the Malfoy line is raised without your notions of betrayal. Your father’s name will live on — you aren’t needed anymore." She pulled a lever on the thing, making a loud and ominous click.

Confusion and shock ran through his mind. "Blaise? What? Mum, Blaise is pregnant with Fred’s son."

The look of disbelief on her face was frozen as a familiar voice called out "Stupefy!" from behind him and sent his mother toppling to the ground, the gun flying out of her hand and firing into the ground with it’s impact.

Draco turned to see Ron smirking at him broadly. He opened his mouth to either thank or insult him — he wasn’t sure which — when he turned just enough to see the determination on Potter’s face. "Harry!"

~

"Harry!" Hermione spun around at Malfoy’s cry and was surprised to find her friend looking right at her as she protected George’s unconscious form.

The battle seemed to stop. "Make sure James knows everything."

She could only scream as Harry turned and ran toward the place where the magic of Voldemort’s spell and his own converged.

And as he hit, a surge of white flashed blindingly across the fields.

~

Ginny heard a scream, Hermione’s, from the center of the battle. Standing on the steps of Hogwarts to backup Snape’s spells, she could see little of the action happening below. But the scream sent her walking forward several steps, yearning to cross the battlefield to go to her brothers, her friend, and her lover.

She pivoted to beg Headmaster Snape for permission to leave him as the blinding white light flashed through the air. Ginny met the Headmaster’s cold gaze for just a moment, until the man let out a wail of agony and fell to his knees.

He was clutching his left arm to his chest as he shrieked in pain. She heard the echoes of the Death Eaters as they joined his cries.

There was only one answer for it, then. The Dark Lord was dead.

But then Snape grew silent and stopped moving. "Oh, Gods... Draco," Ginny breathed, turning and dashing across the field toward the middle of the fray, letting one of the professors handle Snape.

The Death Eaters all seemed to have wilted where they’d stood, passed out from sharing the pain of their Lord’s death. Ginny zeroed in on one white-blond head in moments and, ignoring Hermione and her brothers standing over something nearby, fell to her knees next to his body.

She ripped away his left sleeve and let out a strangled gasp of shock. No Mark of skull and snake marred the warm, perfect flesh. She could feel the pulse of blood in his veins and, heart light, turned her wand on him. "Enervate."

Pale eyes flickered open to meet her darker ones and Draco pushed himself up to throw his arms around Ginny. "It’s over, love... it’s all over..."

"You’re alive! We’re alive!" she sobbed out, refusing to turn from his smiling face.

"Harry did it," Draco whispered. And then he stopped short, smile slipping from his face. "Oh, no. Harry." He shot to his feet, dragging Ginny with him and pulled her over to the crowd of three in the midst of the battlefield.

~

Hermione stared silently down to the body lying at her feet. He looked peaceful, almost, his face looking years younger in death. She knelt down to reach out and touch his cheek, and felt George’s hand on her shoulder, giving a squeeze of comfort. "You did it, Harry," she whispered. "You saved us."

The savior, but at such a price...

The Boy Who Lived was dead.