Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Chapter 16 - The Blood Rose

A hero is no braver than an ordinary man,
but he is braver five minutes longer.

~~Emerson

"Minister Potter," Maggie Thorn said, her voice laced with contempt at the title. "Albus Dumbledore is here to see you."

Harry, sitting at his desk in the Australian Ministry with a large stack of papers and plans before him, glanced up neutrally at the woman he had chosen to replace the late Stephen Cornwall. Maggie Thorn - the senior Auror. She was old, and grey, and would have retired earlier this year if not for the escalating war in Britain.

As such, she did not appreciate the tactics Harry had used to usurp the position of Minister from its old holder. As far as he knew the previous minister had vanished, and good riddance to him. No, Harry privately thought that Thorn was upset that he had so easily broke through the defences she had help implement in the Ministry.

No matter... Dumbledore was here.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, stretching his neck until it cracked quite satisfyingly. "See him in, please, Mrs Thorn." It cost nothing to be polite. Maggie Thorn nodded abruptly, her thin mouth growing even thinner and her eyes shadowed with displeasure underneath a spiky short amount of grey hair.

Thorn left the room and it seemed to grow decidedly warmer, as Harry signed a new load of orders with a quick flick of his quill across the parchment before him. Something about transferring galleons into the international stock market. He didn't read these things unless they pertained to the war. His war.

"I wonder what Dumbledore wants?" Ginny said, seated beside him in a smaller chair he had conjured. Dressed in a white blouse and dark jeans, Harry thought Ginny's hair sparkled as she moved in the light. She seemed so light... and carefree... innocent, even. No, that wasn't right - Ginny had lost her innocence to a diary years ago.

Voldemort had broken her childhood.

"I think he's come to reforge old friendships," Harry replied, with only a small, sad smile. "We were both wrong in a lot of things... he knows that now."

"The pensieve," Ginny sighed. It wasn't a question.

"Yes,' Harry nodded. "Oh, yes...."

It had been two days since the disaster on the western coast, two days since a city was decimated with a wave of Voldemort's hand. Harry knew he had been way too slow in responding, though really what more could he have done? And the dead numbered thousands as the clean up operation began.

It didn't matter really, when the Destroyers broke through - and even Harry wasn't powerful enough to prevent that, especially since they were allied with Voldemort - the entire world would become one large battlefield. With any luck, when all was said and done, a small remnant of humanity would survive.

Right now that was the best Harry could do. He did not see another option that wouldn't result in planet wide destruction. And there was a strong chance of that happening anyway.

Vaguely, he found himself hoping that Sarah Wingfield - the nurse/bookseller - had survived the destruction of two days ago. His mind told him it was impossible, but his heart hoped she had somehow survived. That was of no consequence now though, as Dumbledore strolled into his office, robes ever vibrant and beard tucked into his belt.

"Harry," he said, inclining his head with more respect than Harry had expected. "Please... forgive me, I couldn't have known."

Harry blinked and stood up, moving around the desk and staring into Dumbledore's eyes - an unreadable expression on his face. Stony calm emanated from his features, the scar under his eye twitching slightly with the skin. "You can leave us, Mrs Thorn," he told his deputy minister. "Thank you."

Maggie Thorn was all too happy to leave, only nodding to Dumbledore as she left with the storm cloud that seemed to follow her around. Harry couldn't like the woman. He respected her, but then over the years he had respected a number of his worst enemies as well.

Harry wasn't quite eye level with Dumbledore, an inch or so shorter, but his physical presence more than made up for his lack of height. Harry's posture, the way he stood, how he looked, and the way he looked commanded a lot of respect. It was clear to Ginny, who observed the two of them, where the power lay.

Staring into the old man's eyes, Harry saw regret, pain, anguish and even fear. But there was also determination, a small twinkle of hope, and of renewed excitement. Dumbledore expected Harry to end this war for the world, and Harry would, but the old man didn't know about the Destroyers...

Still, there was time for that later.

"You couldn't have known," Harry managed. "You couldn't have... no one could have." He held out his arm, smiling for the first time that day. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes suddenly flared magnificently as he grasped Harry's forearm tightly.

Harry took Dumbledore's and a silent apology for the wrongs from both of them was exchanged. They were equals, not in power but in morality. Two men, both adept at manipulating the world for their own, somewhat selfless aims. Two men who would try and hold the world together as it fell apart.

Though ultimately that was Harry's job.

*~*~*~*

Voldemort sat upon his throne and before him knelt five of his most loyal Death Eaters. Humans, his human servants who had done their part in the past to assure his rise to power now. A few of the small number of humans who would survive the coming apocalypse.

Garbed in the black robes of the Death Eaters, Voldemort's crimson eyes burned with deadly patience as, one by one, the three men and two women swore their allegiance once more. He had to be sure, binding them on their magic, for what he was about to do would have consequences that could spiral out of control.

That didn't matter though, in the long run, Potter had to be defeated.

Voldemort's eyes flared at the thought of Harry Potter, and the five Death Eaters didn't see that - but they felt it, kneeling lower into the dirty damp stone until their noses brushed the floor, trying very hard not to quiver.

Voldemort briefly recalled the last seventeen years, skipping over his time as a disembodied spirit - clinging to life because death wasn't permitted - and all the times he had met or had been thwarted by the so called Darkslayer. The times were numerous, some in ways Potter probably didn't even know of, and yet he had always been there to combat him.

Opposites, Voldemort thought, powerful equals.... He could not be allowed to live, not any longer.

"Rise...." the Dark Lord hissed, and the air seemed to moan and fail.

Without hesitation the five Death Eaters rose to their feet, still keeping their heads bowed reverently - fearfully - in the presence of their master.

"Lucius," Voldemort continued. "Are you and your son ready to accept a gift greater than any other? Are you and Draco prepared to seek out Harry Potter and stop his interference once and for all?"

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, nudging Draco forward with him. Of equal heights, the two Malfoy's looked a lot alike. Sleek blond hair and cold merciless eyes - father and son. They had both seen and done things that were beyond redemption.

"Of course, my lord," Lucius said, strongly and truthfully.

"And the rest of you...?" Voldemort whispered.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward next to Lucius and nodded just as strongly, just as gravely. Next to her was Alecto Carrow, a blonde haired witch with a lopsided smile and sharp piercing eyes that saw more than most people thought. A Death Eater who had escaped Azkaban and rejoined Voldemort since. To Alecto's left was her brother, Amycus Carrow. A lumpy wizard with the same eyes and sadistic smile as his sister.

The five of them were the Death Eaters Voldemort could trust to a greater extent than any other. They had been with him since the beginning and would soon see the end. He was about to entrust them with great power, and strength enough between the five of them to challenge and maybe even defeat Harry Potter.

Of course Potter would probably annihilate them, but Voldemort had to try something. Too many variables and unknown factors were working their way into his plans, least of all this alliance with the Destroyers - which was tentative at best. Those creatures were evil, single minded in their obsession to destroy Potter, and could possibly turn on him after the boy was dead.

Unless he forced them to submit somehow. Their advantage was their vast numbers - billions, Voldemort had been told, billions massing outside of this world to wage war against one man, Potter.

At Stonehenge Voldemort had watched Potter destroy one of them with ease, barely even blinking his eyes If he were to create a strengthened army of his own, he could use the Destroyers to wipe out the defences of this world and then destroy them himself.... after that, well, the universe was open to him for eternity.

They were all problems that could not be fixed now however, so Voldemort stood, his throne seat layered with frost and the air freezing around him. The faint light from the distant torches lining the walls seemed to wilt further.

His palms and arms were suddenly wreathed in fire - crimson power that spun in spiralling waves between the tips of his skeletal fingers, forming a sphere in the centre that did not so much emanate light, than destroy what little of it there already was.

Hovering now before the Dark Lord, the crimson sphere twisted and wrenched against the space in the air before splitting into five equal portions - lengthening to become pointed. They thrummed on the air, turning and pointing towards the Death Eaters. The five men and women looked equally frightened and excited.

Like arrows, swift and true, the crimson spikes shot through the air and struck the black robed figures fiercely, sending two of them flying backwards and the remaining three to the floor in pain, grasping at their chests as the spike wormed its way in. They didn't bleed - there was no blood, but the eyes of each and every one of them began to glisten red.

Tears of power, it could've been blood now, flowed down the five equally horrified and pain ridden faces. What was happening? They didn't know, didn't even suspect, but that didn't change the fact that the consequences would be dire.

Draco Malfoy screamed, at least he thought he did. In his ears was a tremendous roar, like wind rushing through a crevice and battering against the sides of his mind - threatening to burst his eardrums and end his life.

But it didn't end his life.

A moment later, when the pain subsided and he was left with a deep burn mark on his chest, Malfoy had never felt more alive. He could smell his own cooked flesh, but he could also smell the dirt on the ground, the power on the air. He could hear his heartbeat and his father's heartbeat. His sight, which had been poor in this eternally dark room, was now strong and unwavering.

"Thank you, my lord," Draco was the first to say, standing and feeling the power coursing through his veins, through his soul. He was soon echoed by the other four Death Eaters.

"You five have been trusted with the most important of tasks. Eliminate Harry Potter. I do not care how - bring me his head by sundown tomorrow or the penalty will be torture at my own hand."

Sundown tomorrow - that was about thirty six hours.

The loyal and now monumentally powerful servants of Lord Voldemort bowed, and quietly exited the room. Crimson power flickered across their eyes, twitched in their palms. They were the strongest witches and wizards on the planet in raw magical strength. Save Potter and the Dark Lord.

Will it be enough? Voldemort mused, swirling his hand through the smoke that was rising around his throne. One of them alone will not match Potter, but five? Perhaps....

Lord Voldemort pondered that for some time, before turning his attention to other, darker, matters.

*~*~*~*

"And Voldemort has raised another five thousand soldiers from the grave in France. As it stands, we believe he may have somewhere between thirteen and eighteen thousand Inferi under his command."

Harry and Dumbledore sat on opposite sides of his desk in his office at the Ministry. They had been speaking quite openly for about an hour now, Dumbledore showing his new found respect for Harry's leadership capabilities. It had taken one hundred years of memory to convince the old man, but he knew that Harry was all the world had now.

"Fifteen thousand say," Harry mused, unconsciously swirling his hand in a small spinning motion. Voldemort was doing the same thing twelve thousand miles away. "That is insignificant alongside the vast army of Destroyers that could descend upon our planet at any moment."

"These Destroyers," Dumbledore said, twisting the word around in his mouth as if it were something distasteful. It was. "They can be killed."

"I killed most of them once," Harry shrugged. "They attacked Existence in the form of a single monster, a single demon."

"Allarius," Dumbledore shuddered, his eyes downcast and somewhat fearful. "You say you defeated most of them?"

Harry nodded but then sighed, glancing briefly to his right and at Ginny. She smiled reassuringly and urged him on. "I also recreated them, undid their destruction... Allarius died in the mortal worlds... I changed the mortal worlds. Hell, at Twilight I changed the canvas of Existence. I played God and it was as if I had never left this world all across Time and Space."

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "They were reborn again earlier in time. You didn't defeat them."

"Technically," Harry shrugged. "But they remember that I did once, in another reality that I unmade. In a lot of places, mainly the Boundary, time can only flow forward or it doesn't exist at all. Beings both light and dark remember the trail I blazed across time and existence." Harry smiled slightly, grimly, and Dumbledore suppressed a shudder.

He wasn't sure if Harry was entirely sane... but then, who would be after one hundred years of battling the worst creatures in all of Creation?

"So billions of these creatures are allied with the world's most dangerous enemy ever," Dumbledore whispered, leaning back in his chair and turning up his hands in a gesture Harry almost thought was defeat.

"And don't forget the demons," Harry said quietly. "There could be millions of them as well."

"It seems Fate does not want us to free our world from oppression and terrorism," Dumbledore blinked, stroking his beard. "You wouldn't happen to be able to have a small chat with Fate, would you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "We're not on speaking terms. And anyway, what Fate decides is more of a rough guideline than a certainty. We, life, can change that web."

"Is that true?"

Harry thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I think... I think it might be," he eventually said.

"And you, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore turned to Ginny. "Do you believe we can save our world?"

Ginny nodded without hesitation. "I believe Harry can, Professor," she said. "I believe Harry has to."

If Harry can't I will, Ethan mumbled. I always do all the hard work anyway!

Please, Harry replied - and to Dumbledore it appeared he was smiling at nothing. I'm Batman in this relationship. You're my rebellious sidekick.

Ethan snorted. Yeah, okay, you're Batman, Harry.

Don't tell anyone.

"What do you intend to do?" Dumbledore asked, unnerved slightly by Harry's pointless smile. He was unstable, he had to be, the Headmaster knew.

Cracking his knuckles and staring at a spot on the desk, Harry once again shrugged. "Half the time I have no idea what I'm doing," he said, truthfully. "Plus I've got to keep this badass image I've got going, and everyone knows that badass' live in the moment - don't make plans."

Harry smiled at Dumbledore's expression and Ginny gasped. "Harry," she said slowly, "did you just make a joke?"

Harry paused, speculated for a moment, and then nodded. "You know, I think I did...."

Ginny's eyes brightened and she smiled - she looked happy. "Are you feeling okay? I'd be careful, if I were you, another one might hurt after so long."

Harry rolled his eyes and winked at her, feeling lighter for some reason. It was as if he had shed a great weight that he had carried so long he had forgotten he was carrying it.

"I do not think this discussion merits humour," Dumbledore said, looking a tad angry. "You should take this more seriously, Harry."

Harry's eyes flashed but he held his temper, not wanting to lose this lighter feeling he was riding. "You should never take life seriously, Professor, none of us are getting out of it alive."

Dumbledore stared for a moment and then, after frowning once, nodded. "Well put, my boy," he said. "Lemon drop?"

From his robes Dumbledore pulled a small paper bag from his pocket and offered the Muggle sweets across the table to Harry and then Ginny. Harry declined but Ginny accepted one gratefully, sliding it into her mouth and wincing on the sourness.

"So where do we go from here?" the old man then asked, after slipping a lemon drop of his own between his teeth.

Harry thought for a moment. "I need crystals - crystals to power weapons to combat every enemy out there. I've lost count of how many there are but I'm sure they're out there."

Ginny raised her little finger and tapped it. "Voldemort," she said, and raised another finger. "Dementors, Death Eaters, Vampires, Destroyers, Demons. I put the count at six."

Harry shrugged. "What about werewolves?" He turned to Dumbledore. "Have many accepted the cure?"

"Every one on the register and some that have come forward since your cure was developed, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Sadly, some may still serve Tom."

Harry nodded - he had assumed the worst anyway. This wasn't the worst yet, but it was damn near close.

Keep on rockin', Potter, Ethan said. You don't play dice with the universe.

Quoting Einstein now? Harry asked - he had read a lot at the Ways of Twilight. Decades worth of study that had seemed that long and yet also only a few seconds.

Ethan shrugged. Einstein and I, we think alike. Great minds and all of that.

"I said," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, "I said what do you intend to do with the crystals, Harry?"

Harry blinked and fell out of his mind. "Put them in weapons," he said, thinking back to what had been said. "Muggle weapons, new weapons, and then put those weapons in the hands of my soldiers. I intend to wage a war with those crystals."

Dumbledore mused on that for a few minutes and then nodded. "Do you need more manpower to infuse these crystals with undiluted magic?"

"I do," Harry nodded. "I was hoping the British Ministry could provide it. Everyone here is stretched keeping the country running and the growing army supplied. Seven thousand magical recruits now - soon I'll start recruiting the Muggles. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny between them have charged two hundred and thirty crystals, but I need hundreds of thousands."

Dumbledore blinked, digesting that, before nodding. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I will speak to Arthur about that. We will be announcing our allegiance for you at the next Confederation meeting, by the way. I do apologise for not supporting you earlier."

"My banners still stuck in the Seat of Merlin?" he asked, with a small grin.

"They have been a source of frustration and uncertainty in every meeting since you placed them there," Albus said, shaking his head and grinning underneath his beard. "I'm... I am glad we are working together again, Harry. The world was looking terribly dark before."

"It isn't much lighter," Harry agreed. "And soon it's going to rain blood, but united we have a chance. A small chance, a small hope - but, for me at least, the odds have never been better."

Dumbledore stood as Harry did and they shook hands across the desk again. "May I ask, Minister Potter," the old man said, "what you intend to do about this army of Destroyers? Surely, you have some idea."

If he doesn't then we are doomed, Dumbledore thought simply. Everything is - everything rested on Harry Potter. That thought made Dumbledore feel oddly comforted.

Harry rolled his tongue across his bottom teeth, looked at nothing for a moment in thought, and then nodded. "Even the walls have ears, Professor," he grinned, "but I have an ace or two up these old sleeves. If worst comes to worst, I'll bring down this universe upon them and pick up the pieces later."

The tone of his voice said it was a joke, but his eyes said that it might actually be an option. For Harry, Dumbledore knew, such a thing was an option.

"We'll meet again soon," Harry said, letting go of Dumbledore's hand and moving over to take Ginny's. "I'll come to Britain, I think, and apologise to the Order for my actions when I was last at Grimmauld Place."

"Can you tell mum that Ron and I are well, Professor," Ginny asked. "And that we will be coming with Harry in a few days."

Dumbledore nodded, seeing the amazing connection between Harry and Ginny. Many forces across Existence may have tried to destroy Harry, may have searched fruitlessly for his weakness, but Dumbledore knew he was standing right next to her. Ginny Weasley was the only thing stopping Harry from giving up, but was also the one person who could destroy him.

It was a terribly fragile game that was now being played. One crack, one nudge, and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down.

It was with those thoughts that Dumbledore returned to the United Kingdom.

*~*~*~*

A few nights ago Harry had been a wreck after the events in the city of Perth, in which thousands of innocent bystanders had been killed.

It had been Ginny who helped him through that night when the walls of his life began to close in around him, when the pain and the pointless suffering began to claw at him in its strongest assault ever.

He had wept, he had cried, he had held himself as the nightmares appeared one by one before his eyes and threatened to devour him. Ginny had held his hand, whispered small nothings to calm him and stayed with him through the night until, by morning, the nightmares were gone.

Locked once again behind the barriers Harry had ceased to guard for just a moment.

But Ginny had pushed them back - Harry had merely closed and locked the gate.

"It's your birthday a week on Thursday," Ginny said, as the two of them walked hand in hand down the beach heading back towards the house. Harry had needed to stretch his aching muscles and joints, and a walk had done that. Ginny, of course, did not want to leave him. People died and Harry lost it when he was on his own.

"Is it?" he smiled sadly. "Aye, it is. I'd forgotten...."

"Ron said you would," she chided, shaking her head. "You'll be of age in about a week - can use magic outside of Hogwarts and everything."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, about time as well."

It was approaching noon and Harry knew he had to go to the Ministry then and sign the day's documents, make sure his army was being supplied and count the costs. He could wait a few more minutes however - his talk with Dumbledore yesterday had been productive enough.

"Do you want to come to the Ministry again?" he asked Ginny. "I was thinking of asking Ron and Hermione as well."

"Can do," Ginny nodded. "Nothing else to do this afternoon anyway. Haven't get the energy left to keep charging those crystals."

A shipment of weapons had arrived, through the Twilight Guardians at the army base in the central desert of this country. From the British Prime Minister, the man who had joint command of the Guardians, and was safely on Harry's side. He was increasingly frustrated about the grave robberies and attacks that were now flaring up across Europe as well, but there was little Harry could do about that.

In a few weeks his army might be able to begin patrolling major cities in the United Kingdom, and Australia - no other country would accept them, especially because of Harry's tactics used in the acquisition of his current Ministry. Soon enough he'd turn his attention on securing those countries, but not yet....

*~*~*~*

Ron and Hermione buttoned their cloaks around their necks and checked to make sure their wands were safe and secure in the holsters wrapped around their wrists. Hand in hand, they walked over to Harry and Ginny who were talking quietly before the big glass window that looked out over the ocean in the sitting room.

Hermione thought Harry cut an impressive figure against that window, tall and intimidating as the sunlight shone around him, casting his skin in an ethereal glow, whilst also being filtered through his dark hair. Even dressed in simple jeans and a shirt as he was, it didn't deter from the powerfully wrought image he possessed.

She thought briefly about her parents, who had needed to get away for a few days and were now up north in Darwin, staying in a hotel. They had told her that they were planning on returning to the UK soon, return to being dentists, and they hoped she would come with them. They asked her to come, they didn't tell her; knowing full well that with Harry she was caught up in something beyond their understanding. When they got back, Hermione knew she had to convince them to stay here - where it was safe.

"All set then?" Harry asked as they walked up to him. His eyes, always so cold and calculating, for a moment seemed warm and welcoming.

Hermione didn't shudder under his stare. She had been suppressing them around him these last few days. Whether he knew it or not Harry was terrifying at times, and Hermione suspected that he did know it but found it hard to be anything else. He had needed to be terrifying, hard, merciless, and unbreakable over the years. Now... now everyone wasn't an enemy, and he had to adjust to that.

"Sure are, Minister," Ron grinned, slapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Don't call me that...." Harry mumbled, facing the window. "Sounds way too formal. Alright then, everyone who's going get onboard. I'll Apparate us through all the wards."

Harry took Ginny's hand with his right and Hermione's hand with his left. Ron placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and a moment later - a second, the blink of an eye - he stood not in Harry's house, but in Harry's office.

Portraits of previous ministers glared down at Harry and the others. Ron saw a desk stacked with papers and a fireplace with empty ashy logs resting in it. There were a few chairs and a long leather sofa next to a set of cabinets and shelves stacked with books and a few unidentifiable oddities.

Sitting in one of those chairs was a grey woman wearing a scowl and white Auror robes. She stood when she saw Harry and bowed her head in the smallest possible display of respect. "Minister," she said.

"Mrs Thorn," Harry replied, showing her much more respect than she did him. "What news of the world?"

Ron and Hermione followed Ginny's lead, as she had been here before, and went and sat on the black leather sofa sitting perpendicular to Harry's desk, which he purposefully strode around and sat down in his large chair.

"Nothing much to report save the usual," she scowled, not taking the seat Harry offered but remaining stood next to the door, her hands clasped behind her back. "Your army seems to have peaked at about seven and a half thousand recruits - we are supplying them as best we can given the surge but things are levelling out now."

"Excellent," Harry nodded.

"Your Twilight Guardians have begun training lieutenants to serve under them, and the man who calls himself Alpha One wished to see you - he wants you to talk to the recruits so far. He said, and I agree, that they can't be truly loyal to you because they have never seen you. Rebellion, treason or worse could follow if that rabble gets out of hand."

Harry shrugged. "That rabble is going to save the world. Anything else?"

"The International Confederation is meeting this Saturday," Thorn continued. "Australia currently has no ambassador, as you relieved the previous minister of his position, and Stephen Cornwall is no longer with us." Her voice wavered at the end there. Stephen had been her student for a time.

"Send someone to represent us - you choose," Harry replied. "Go yourself, if you want. Let them know that my offer stands. They can hand over their forces peacefully or I will take them."

Maggie Thorn looked at him for a long moment after that. "There have been a few Death Eater attacks in France," she continued. "Fifty dead in an attack on the French Ministry."

"The French can defend themselves," Harry sighed. "But offer them a force of soldiers - five hundred strong - to defend their Ministry. Make suer they understand it is an offer, and that these soldiers will be ready in a few weeks."

"As you wish," Thorn inclined her head. "Nothing else new, Minister, save the reports on your desk. Will that be all?"

Harry nodded, reaching for a stack of papers. "Can you take Ron here down to the Auror offices and introduce him to the battle tacticians. He's got a keen mind for that and is my War Councillor."

Ron's eyebrows almost disappeared under his fringe as Harry spoke and his jaw dropped. Maggie Thorn looked equally shocked, turning a critical eye on the flame-haired young man she had taken as nothing more than a teenager.

"Him?" she said. "Bit young, isn't he?"

Harry grinned. "Young or not we can all still die in this war, Mrs Thorn. Ron here sees things differently than the rest of us."

Thorn blinked and then, after a moment, nodded. "Very well - come with me, boy."

"You can go as well if you like Hermione, Ginny. I'll be doing nothing but signing these for an hour or two." Harry opened a sleeve of documents that fell out onto the desk before him. "Despite everything that's going to happen we've gotta keep the world turning."

"I'll stay," Ginny said.

"I think I'll go with Ron," Hermione decided, standing up and following Ron and Maggie Thorn out of the door. "Be back soon then."

Ginny pulled a smaller stool over to sit next to Harry after everyone else left and they talked quite normally for a few minutes as Harry scanned the parchment before him and then scrawling his signature in blue ink along the bottom, adding his seal of the white rose with a wave of his hand.

"Did you ever find out why white roses seemed so important?" Ginny asked.

Harry didn't look up when he answered. With a shrug he said, "Never - just one of those things, I guess. Strangely fitting. Darkness takes black, Light takes white."

"White roses grew around you sometimes, didn't they? When you were sleeping you'd wake up and they'd be there. Do you know why?"

Harry shrugged again. There was a lot he didn't know, a lot that even Twilight couldn't answer. "Haven't a clue. Part of the Darkslayer curse maybe. Why so interested?"

It was Ginny's turn to shrug. "I think they're important.... I just--just have a feeling."

Harry paused and stopped writing to turn and look up at her, a small frown creasing his brow. His eyes were suspicious, but not of her, she knew, of something else.

"What?" she said, once his gaze had begun to grow uncomfortable.

Harry clicked his teeth together twice. "Nothing," he said eventually. "Just wayward thoughts about eternity and forever. Here...."

Light flared in and around Harry's scarred hand and for a moment it was lost to sight. When it returned, a dew soaked white rose - thorny and just blooming, rested softly between his fingers. The bud grew and spread until the petals reached out as far as they'd go. He handed it to her.

"For protection," he said. "For luck... for my peace of mind. It's a powerful thing."

Ginny grinned and twirled the flower in her hand, drops of dew spun off it in spirals. It was real, alive, not an imitation of life - but life itself. Harry had created it... no, perhaps he'd pulled it from somewhere else on the planet. But she had never seen a rose like this before. It was flawless, seemed to sing in her hands, and made her feel warm.

"Where do you think red roses come into it all?" she mused a moment later.

Harry chuckled, a tad bitterly. "The blood rose," he said. "I don't want to know."

War perhaps, Ethan said. Black for death, white for life, red for all that's in between.

It's not out problem, Harry mumbled in his mind.

It is if your suspicions about Ginny are correct, he replied. She's interested in the Roses... why?

She saw it in the pensieve!

Is it more than that? Are you thoughts correct and is something beyond this world involving her? Making her feel these feelings?

Harry gritted his teeth. If something is then that something will die. She's to be kept out of this.

Spoken like the defiant hero you are....

"What do you want to do when this is all over, Harry?" Ginny asked.

Once again falling out of his thoughts, Harry blinked and realised he'd let ink stain the document before him in a big blue smudge. He charmed it away and wrote his signature quickly.

"I've never given it much thought," he replied honestly. "I don't... know, for a time I wasn't even sure it would ever be over. And who knows? I could stop it all this time but there could be a next time, and a time after that.... when would it end?"

It will never be over, Potter, not for you.

Ginny sighed patiently. "Given the chance, what would you like to do? You must have dreams, ideas for life."

Harry smiled and gave that some serious thought. "I suppose," he said carefully, "I suppose that if I had the chance I think writing might be a relatively peaceful occupation."

"Writing?"

"Stories are what make a universe, Gin, not atoms," he replied.

"So this saving the world thing is just a way of getting cash so you can write?"

Harry chuckled. "Something like that, I think."

Ginny tapped her lips in thought and grinned at Harry. "I'm sure you could write one or two stories that we could sell as fiction."

Harry blinked. "There's a difference between fiction and reality, I reckon," he said.

"Oh?"

"Fiction has to make sense," He waved his hand around in the air before him. "Whereas this reality I live in rarely does."

Ginny paused to think about that. "You'd make a good writer, I think."

"It's an option if the world doesn't explode or something equally unfortunate happens," Harry pursed his lips in thought and tilted his head to the side. "Can you hear that?" he asked.

Ginny listened. "What?"

"That buzzing," Harry said, standing up, cocking his head to the other side. "It reminds me of--"

BOOM!

The entire building suddenly shook in its foundations and Harry stumbled backwards into his chair, slamming into the wall as a series of cracks clawed their way through the plaster. Portraits fell to the floor and the door broke away on its hinges.

Ginny tumbled off her stool and Harry helped her up as the tremors subsided. "What....?"

"There's power here," Harry growled. "But it isn't Voldemort - if it was we'd probably be dust now." He paused and then frowned. "It feels strange... false."

Ginny shook her head and a lot of dusty plaster fell out of her hair. "Well," she said, drawing her wand. "Let's go."

Harry looked at her for a long moment, from her wand and then up into her eyes. He saw the defiance in those brown-white pools, the defiance that raged in every human being. Sometimes Harry felt that humans were unique in the universe for that, and knew short of binding her here she was coming with him.

"I'll lead," he said. "Stay behind me."

The entire building shook again as Harry and Ginny ran down the corridor with the view of Canberra on one side and the portraits on the other. It had been in this corridor that ten Aurors had tried to kill Harry and stop his takeover of the Ministry. Harry was ready for the blast this time though, and as the windows cracked and smashed he steadied himself and felt for the source of the magic.

It was coming from the foyer, the ground floor, he was sure of it. He grabbed Ginny, held her close, and then Apparated down straight into the chaos. He was confident that he could easily handle whatever this was. Nevertheless they appeared out of sight standing behind a concrete white pillar in the foyer, which was now eerily silent.

Ginny flinched when she saw the smear of blood across the white pillar and Harry turned his head around the corner, catching a quick glimpse of the open foyer. Bodies were strewn haphazardly over its expanse in various states of dismemberment and destruction. Blood was splattered across the wall, floors and furniture.

Other terrified magical folk were either cowering or firing spells towards the five black robed Death Eaters that stood in the centre of the foyer, back to back and laughing as they cast destructive and killing spells from their wands.

Five Death Eaters, he thought, his vision narrowing as he stared at the masked figures. It was pitiful of Voldemort to think such an attack could stop him. It was surprising, however, how much damage these five had inflicted in so short a time. Many of the dead and dying about the smoking foyer were Aurors.

Powerful magic but normal magic, he thought. They'll pay for this. He began to step out from behind the pillar.

Ginny grasped his arm. "Something's not right," she frowned.

Harry paused for a moment. "It'll be fine," he said. "I've handled a lot worse than this scum."

Reluctantly Ginny let him go and Harry stepped out from behind the pillar, his hands already flaring with power. As if that was the signal the Death Eaters suddenly spun and looked straight at him. Harry's scar rippled with pain as they did and he only just managed to throw himself out of the way of a Killing Curse that reverberated through the air faster than he thought possible.

He kept rolling when he was down, through a puddle of blood and over a pile of rubble. His scar was merciless, digging into his mind - it was as if Voldemort was there, but Harry knew he wasn't. His power encased hands had torn the floor apart and set the stone itself alight.

Curses were raining down upon him and with a thought he set up a barrier around Ginny to keep her safe and hidden behind the white pillar. As he rolled to avoid the multitude of colourful curses, rainbow death, he saw her battering against it uselessly.

The Death Eaters were laughing - laughing! - he could hear. And that, more than anything else, told him that something wasn't right. Just as Ginny had predicted. No more time for thought though, as suddenly Harry could not move his legs and his arms were pinned to his sides.

He'd been caught by a magic he hadn't expected. Harry had been overconfident and for the first time in many years the Darkslayer had been outclassed.

Heart-stopping, gut-wrenching, mind-breaking pain assaulted his head from the scar and Harry felt almost blinded by it. Never in many years had he been so quickly and utterly disabled. Hovering through the air quickly, he soon knelt before the five masked figures.

"Vestic!" a white robed Auror bellowed, diving out from behind the wand validating desk and towards an overturned table. He was halfway through the air towards the ground when one of the Death Eaters spun with the speed of a master duellist and fired a thick green beam silently from his wand. It spun through the air, cut right through the Auror's purple curse, and powered the man already dead back into and through the wall.

Burning plaster and green flame, wrapped in smoke, exploded outwards and scattered across the ruined and dead strewn floor.

Harry growled and struggled against the invisible bonds that held him before the five Death Eaters. His palms exploded with power that burnt his clothes but not his flesh, and he raged against the magic that imprisoned him. It was like battling uphill though, and that shocked Harry so much that his control wavered over his power and it slipped away.

Looking into the masks of his enemies, Harry saw that their eyes were glowing faintly red - red with power. These were not average Death Eaters... something else. As he struggled to break the spells on his limbs, the net holding him stretched and fought back any of his attempts to snap the cords. They were bendy, rubber even - he couldn't snap them.

"Harry Potter," the nearest Death Eater drawled, and the voice was familiar to Harry, clawing into the reaches of his mind. "Kneeling in the blood of those he swore to protect...."

Harry's mind worked fast. "Lucius Malfoy," he grinned. Little trick about intimidation that had served him well over the years - keep smiling, keep your eyes wide... it was very unnerving. "Your eyes are glowing."

Malfoy tore off his mask, throwing it to the floor before Harry. His blonde hair fell down around his shoulders and, as his eyes flared red, Harry's scar suffered a jolt of particularly sharp pain. His voice also changed when he spoke next. It was Malfoy's drawl, but it also sounded like a snake - like Voldemort.

"A gift from the Dark Lord, Potter," Lucius said, baring his teeth. His wand, and the wands of the other Death Eaters, was levelled between Harry's eyes. Everyone else in the foyer had been subdued, had been killed. "Power to destroy you."

Harry blinked. "No such power exists," he smiled.

"You'll die just like anyone else," a female, croaky and gleeful voice said to Lucius' left. Her mask came away as well, and the other three Death Eaters soon followed suit.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry nodded, his arms straining against the invisible bonds. "Draco, and two newcomers. Well now it's a party."

"Enough games, Lucius, kill him," one of the Death Eaters Harry didn't know said. Her eyes were glowing as well.

"All in good time, Alecto," Lucius Malfoy whispered. "First, I wish to make him suffer - suffer like the Dark Lord made me suffer after every time he thwarted us, for all the plans he ruined."

Harry laughed, harsh and bitter. "You are a very little man, Lucius," he said. "Do your worst, but know this - it better kill me...."

"Defiant to the last, Potter," Draco Malfoy spat, his hand tightening on his wand. "Can't you see that you've lost?"

"So much you never knew, Draco," Harry sighed. "So much that could have been changed. You were too weak to see that, all of you Death Eaters are. No matter, you and the master you serve will all burn in the same pit by the time I'm done."

"Crucio!" Malfoy senior and junior hissed at the same time. Bellatrix laughed and added her own pain curse, whilst the other two Death Eaters kept their wands raised for an attack.

Ah, the Cruciatus Curse, Harry knew it well. It had been many decades since he had last felt it but it still felt like an old friend.

Harry crouched down on his knees and didn't scream. He embraced the pain. And what pain it was - his every nerve was on fire, melting and exploding. Consciousness remained of course, that was the beauty of cruciatus.

Come away, Ethan said softly, as the pain rose to a crescendo in sync with his scar. All the years he had grown accustomed to such feelings, and now his tortured mind wanted no more.

Harry floated, time slowed, and he found himself standing next to Ethan, cloak billowing on invisible air, as he watched his mortal body tortured and broken from above.

The Malfoy's and Bellatrix had sadistic, vindictive, even eager looks upon their faces as magic, charged somehow to match his own (match Voldemort's), streamed from their wands and into his body.

"This is a new development," Harry sighed. His voice sounded distant in his ears, like an echo.

Ethan was there, hands in his pockets. He just smiled and turned away. "They'll keep that up until your mind snaps," he said.

Harry chuckled, his eyes wild. "They're trying to break something that's already broken."

Ethan nodded - it was the truth. "What do you think it means to be human, Harry?" he asked, looking at the glee in Bellatrix Lestrange's haunted eyes. "Is that human? Are you human, able to take that pain, fight it all, defy Death itself? Am I human... living as I do, not alive and not dead but some bitter joke in between?"

Are we players in this game not human? Harry wondered, floating next to his pain ridden body. The main players - Voldemort, Ethan, myself. Have we become something else, something less?

The eager and happy glint in the Death Eater's eyes - was that human... could he see Satan laughing with delight in the reflective glint of those dark eyes. Did he want to? Would that give it some meaning... define an answer?

"We're all in the same seething boat of humanity," Harry shrugged. "Some of us make the best of it - you and I keep the boat afloat. That look in Bellatrix's eyes is human, the pain is human... what you are, the soul... is all that is human."

"The Soul in the Hero," Ethan chuckled. "The Soul of the Hero... if I'm here where is your soul?"

Harry snorted. "Circling the drain for all I know. Sold it a long time ago - tore it to shreds with all the life I've taken."

Ethan strode around Harry's anguished body, mouth set in a silent scream of pain. "That's rather bleak," he said. "Are you sure?"

Harry looked over to where Ginny was, behind the blood stained white pillar about forty feet away. "I'm damned, Ethan," he said.

"Well there's no use frowning about it."

Harry laughed, lacing it with insanity. "What am I supposed to do? Eat, sleep, and be merry?"

Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "A lot of people would be happy with such a simple existence."

"I think you've forgotten that I'm being tortured to death...."

"Of course you could meet a pretty girl, one that makes you laugh," Ethan continued. "Find your soul there, maybe...."

"If my soul is anywhere it's laying butchered in one of those worlds I destroyed."

Ethan chuckled. "So dramatic - when is enough enough, Harry? When do you lie down and die? When does the white flag go up? Anyone would understand perfectly if you were to quit, none of them would have lasted half as long as you did, and yet you soldier on doing the dirty work. I've seen it all with you, and yet I have no idea how your mind works."

"You think I do?" Harry croaked, both his out-of-body face and his real face extremely pale. "All I know," he continued, a bit angrily, "is that I go on - is that I survive! Why am I always the survivor? I don't know... I guess somebody has to be. S-some... someone has to remember the madness."

Ethan tapped his fingers together slowly, thoughtfully. His fringe fell down into his eyes and he threw his head back to dislodge it. Not much time had passed back in his body, Harry knew, but he was getting impatient.

"That is," Ethan eventually said, "bullshit. You'll die, Harry, you'll die regretting the small things."

Harry scowled. "I do love our little chats - I think we've made some real progress in today's session. Meanwhile, back in reality, I'm being cruciod to death!"

"Then do something about it," Ethan shrugged. "You're the hero... I'm just caught up in the trail you're blazing across everything."

Harry sighed - it contained the pain of and age and also the fatal fatigue of everything he had ever done. "I'm tired of feeling like this...."

"Then stop," Ethan replied, himself able to feel the pain and anguish Harry suffered. "Smile once in awhile, tell a joke.... we're all doomed anyway, might as well go out looking as if you enjoyed it."

Harry paused for a long moment in reflection of that, eventually shaking his head in indecision and motioning to his body, which was still being tortured quite effectively. "Any suggestions about this?" he asked Ethan. "They're binding me with something that stretches. Something I can't snap with raw power because it just grows and bends."

"That's a new one," Ethan said, stroking his chin in thought. "Their power isn't natural, you know, I think Voldemort is using them as puppets from afar."

"I do too."

Ethan nodded slowly and then walked back around to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It is going to hurt a hell of a lot when you get back in there...."

"I know, I know... no ideas on this one?" he asked, feeling the pull of his body once again. This place, detached in his mind, wasn't a safe haven for long.

Ethan shrugged and did look a tad sympathetic. "Suck it in, bite down on it... let Ginny free, she might be able to distract them."

Harry took a step back towards consciousness, feeling the first bites of pain in his mind and scar. "That all?"

"Don't let them see your fear."

Harry nodded. "Until next time, Ethan."

Harry screamed - he couldn't stop it - as pain beyond imagining suddenly bloomed in every part of his body. White hot knifes cut him open, sub zero blades ran him through... every nerve erupted with crippling pain. And that was just the Cruciatus. His scar burned with the fire of the sun. His head flailed from left to right and his eyes rolled up into his skull.

Whether he wanted to release it or not didn't matter now, because the shield around Ginny fell away as his mind was tortured and broken. He couldn't hold it, not and stay alive. Ginny was no longer held out of this fight.

He heard laughter, saw the crimson beams of pain through blurry eyes, and forced every fibre of his being into defying it. If there was one thing Harry could do, it was defy. He slowly began to laugh, embracing the pain. It had brought out his less than sane side, opened the fractures that had taken one hundred years to seal....

No matter, Harry's new outlook on life required maniacal laughter.

His magic was a surging ocean, a torrent of swelling water that was angry, furious, battering for use inside of him. He could still feel the invisible stretching bonds that kept his murderous palms tightly bound, and he knew thought magic was too weak to use against this bunch of puppets, but he threw all he had against the bonds anyway.

It wasn't the Death Eaters strength he was raging against, it was Voldemorts. And that strength was equal to his in every possible way. Two sides of a coin, opposite equals....

Harry thought he was going to die, and his laughter increased for a moment when he wondered what he would have to fight in Death. He even imagined that out of the corner of his eye he could see that hooded scythe-wielding Reaper standing silently, watching as he finally abandoned life.

The farce is done; I got to seek a vast perhaps.

"HARRY!"

His surging power sloshed uselessly against Voldemort's stretching bonds, but Harry didn't cease the attack. He'd die fighting - as he always knew he would.

But then that sounded too much like defeat....

It is defeat, Ethan growled. Fight, damn you. We will not die on our knees!

The pain had to have reached its peak now, and yet it remained stronger than ever. He blinked, he thought, but didn't really feel it. In that moment his blurry eyes cleared and he saw Ginny, rushing towards him with her wand in one hand and something he couldn't identify in the other.

The pain was relentless and he soon lost this image of the woman he loved.

Ginny ran, jumping over rubble and bodies and raised her wand to bring it down in a slashing arc, casting the Vestic killing curse with every bit of strength she could muster. The Death Eaters saw her however, felt her magic, and her thick purple beam was deflected by the one called Alecto. It shot up into the ceiling and brought down a rain of plaster chunks and dust.

Ginny wasn't deterred - single minded in her desire to save Harry - she propelled herself forward as a dark blue curse, something she didn't recognise, burnt through the air just where her head had been a second earlier.

"Reducto!" she cried, taking a shot at one of the Death Eaters cursing Harry. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

It didn't get close, as one of the two Death Eaters not cursing Harry levitated a large slab of broken marble into its path. Her curse was powerful enough to reduce that to dust, and using the plume that exploded from it Ginny struggled to her knees--

--and received a burning curse in her shoulder faster than she thought one could travel. These Death Eaters were not the usual brainless morons she was used to. Spinning backwards over rubble and corpses, Ginny's grip tightened on the white rose she held in her other hand. Her wand she had dropped as her shoulder burnt and the tumble across the floor bruised her body and cut her face.

The thorns on the rose cut deep into her hand and that blood flowed onto the silk white petals. Streaks of crimson bled across the flower and it began to glow - to shine with a faint golden light.

Sobbing slightly - her head was bleeding - Ginny leaned over on her side and, as if gripped by some force that wasn't her own, she gazed at Harry as he screamed again, and threw the white rose through the air towards him. She shuddered then, collapsing from the pain and ceasing to breathe.

The rose spiralled through the air, an arc of crimson drops wheeling out behind it as it reached its peak and began to fall down towards Harry. It sung as it fell, like phoenix song only higher, and came to a stop hovering before the Darkslayer, whose eyes focused on it with renewed hope.

Harry's laughter rang out around the desolate foyer.

The rose cut between Harry and one of the red beams of the cruciatus, the one connecting him to Lucius Malfoy. A heartbeat, an eternity, ticked by and then the link between them was broken.

The rose exploded, severing the curse and propelling all of the Death Eaters back. A protective shell rose around Harry as the bonds binding his arms and legs were broken, and protected him from the blast that burnt and shocked the Death Eaters.

The pain gone, Harry collapsed backwards with a cry of relief, drifting in and out of consciousness. His power was still surging however, still roaring to be used, and a stream of it broke free of his body against his will and sent a wave of searing hot fire in the general direction of the Death Eaters.

Amycus Carrow was burnt to less than ash a moment later, but no one saw it. Weakened from the pain, blinded by the sorrow, Harry hit the floor hard and took a few shaky breaths, looking around for Ginny - for that had been her rose.

He saw another sight first - Ron and Hermione... Maggie Thorn and several dozen Aurors were running from the elevator, from the stairs, Apparating down into the fight. He didn't give a damn about that though, as he saw Ginny lying all too still about fifteen feet away.

His heart stopped, his mind froze, and he went berserk. Roaring defiance in his last breath, screaming against inevitability! He was growling, drooling, foaming around the mouth as he crawled over limbs and rubble, corpses and through blood to reach her.

The Aurors ran passed him on either side, Ron and Hermione were lost to his sight in the sudden sea of people, but that didn't matter.

He had travelled so far, for so long, across millions of miles and thousands of worlds - that journey had taken one hundred years of his first life... this journey, a mere fifteen feet, felt like a thousand years. Ginny's hair had streaks of blood in it. She had hit a slab of concrete and was bleeding. Her shoulder was also smoking, a slow fire eating away at her clothes.

He didn't cry as he drew closer, but he wanted to. It just wasn't in him, nothing there. He was powerless to cry. Emotion... was foreign to him now.

Ron couldn't see Harry or Ginny, wasn't even sure they were here, but he did see a wall of fire blast away a Death Eater who was trying to get to his feet. That had to have been Harry. He then saw the Malfoy's - Lucius and Draco, and he became blinded by rage.

Rushing forward, leaving Hermione behind, Ron was one of the first to send a curse at the Death Eaters who seemed weakened and crippled. Bellatrix Lestrange was there as well, and another woman he didn't recognise. He aimed all his curses at the youngest Malfoy though, the bastard who had portkeyed them to Voldemort in March and helped condemn Harry to a journey across time itself.

"MALFOY!" he shouted. "VESTIC!"

His curse missed by just an inch, but soon dozens of others streamed over his head and to either side as the Aurors joined him in battle. The Death Eaters seemed stunned, confused, and Ron was certain they had them. His eyes met the younger Malfoys and a look of pure hate was shared between the both of them.

Draco raised his wand to strike, but his father grasped his arm and a moment later they disapparated. Outnumbered severely now, Bellatrix and the other Death Eater followed Lucius' example. They feared their Lord's punishment, but to stay meant certain death.

Hermione came running up next to Ron, breathing heavily and scanning the dead and destroyed throughout the foyer. "Where's Harry...?" she breathed.

After what could have been forever Harry was looking down upon Ginny through tear stained eyes. Tears that wouldn't leave his eyes. She was pale, as pale as death, and he feared to reach for her, to look for her pulse.

But he did... and it was there, weak but beating. Her eyes moved beneath her closed eyelids as well and Harry gently pressed his hand against the bleeding gash on the side of her head. He was tired now, his every nerve still strained and burning from the aftermath of so much pain, but he found the strength to do what he did next.

His palm shone white against the side of her head and he closed the wound, the magic use draining him exponentially. His vision faded, black spots swimming before his eyes, and yet he wasn't done. Her shoulder was a mess of burnt tissue and agonising pain, he saw.

Her flesh was hard under his hand as he placed it over that wound and muttered words of healing he thought he had forgotten. They were there when he needed them now, and when he removed his hand her shoulder was whole again with unblemished skin.

Harry smiled as Ginny began to breathe more easily, and looking down upon her like that he passed out onto the same slab of stone she had - his fingers rested lightly on hers, covered in blood and dirt. His mind faded, he didn't know if there were enemies nearby or if he'd even awake. That was something he would now have to trust to his old adversary, Fate.

Well... Ethan said, that was a close one.

Harry hurt. He hurt. We done good, kid, he managed. One point for love... chalk that up on the tally.

We are way beyond a tally now, Harry, was the reply. I think you have to wake up.

When Harry opened his eyes, everything was blurred for a moment but then it grew clear. Ginny was now looking down upon him. Her hair was matted with blood on one side and her face carried streaks of it as well. There was a hole in her blouse, singed black around the edges, and tear stains on her cheeks. She was conscious however, alive!

"Harry," she said softly as he opened his eyes.

Some time had gone by since he passed out, but not much. He was still in the Ministry foyer, still lying on the ground, but he had managed to heal Ginny.

Harry's mind felt slow, slurred, and he raised his arm shakily to brush a few strands of Ginny's hair back behind her ear. She was close, their noses almost touching, and a drunken smile spread across his face.

"You have," he managed, his voice weak and croaky, "a very nice facial structure, Gin. Very nice indeed."

Ginny half laughed half sobbed, taking his hand between her own and kissing it once. "You're okay now, Harry. It's over...."

It will never be over!

Harry flinched and pushed back that voice of the past. "Very proportional," he continued, still admiring her face. His memory slipped into pain. "I knew a girl who looked like you once...."

Harry's eyes rolled back into his head again and he groaned. It hurt to groan. He was laughing, he thought, but it was actually coughing. His mind hurt, thoughts hurt, nightmares stabbed at him:

God pisses on your world, Harry. Here, have a rose. Allarius the demon.

"Roses were red... violets are blue... enjoy it while it lasts, Harry... because there's not much left for you."

He blinked and was back in the Ministry, breathing steadily. Ron and Hermione were there this time, with Ginny, looking down upon him. He could see a pockmarked and ash stained ceiling as well.

"What do you say to Paris, Gin?" he said, still not quite there in his mind. "We could forget all this and go have cake in Paris."

Ginny stroked his forehead, her hand cool against his hot scar. He had almost forgotten that it was still burning. It seemed to lessen when Ginny touched it. "I think Paris will have to wait, Harry," she sighed. "How do you feel?"

He sighed and stretched his limbs, twisting a little on the ground. "Did I get hit by a train or something?" he managed, wincing at the bolts of pain that let him know he was still alive."

Ron chuckled. "That probably would have hurt less...."

"Ron," Hermione tsked, slapping him on the arm. "That's not fun--"

Harry laughed and he felt a bit more like himself. "We have to get out of here," he said. "If Maggie Thorn sees me like this she'll probably have me hanged while she can."

Ginny flinched and then looked up behind Harry, biting her bottom lip. Harry turned his head and then cursed.

"Minister," Maggie Thorn said. Behind her were half a dozen Aurors, grim and holding wands. In a hundred years Harry had never felt so powerless. "Shall I fetch a noose?"

With Ron and Ginny's help, Harry managed to sit up, his arms resting on his knees and his head dangling down towards the floor for a minute. For a moment despair griped him - his enemies just kept gaining numbers and getting more powerful, whilst he was left to throw together as many allies of the Light that he could. Allies that for the most part were ignorant and unwilling. But he worked past that despair... there would be a way.

"What is the damage, Mrs Thorn?" he asked his deputy minister.

Maggie Thorn looked at him for a long moment, and for once it wasn't with a scowl. Perhaps for the first time she was seeing him as a leader. "At least thirty dead, I can see, with some damage to the Ministry's structure and key supports. Recommend repairs are done immediately, Minister."

"See to it please," Harry managed, wincing every time he moved anything or blinked or breathed. Already though he could feel his strength returning, slowly but surely. He was going to be sore for a few days, but he would be able to function. "I'll be gone for a few days after I leave, Thorn," he then said. "Circumstances have changed. When the Twilight Guardians come next, tell them I'll see the army before the 31^st."

"Where are you going?"

"I've too many enemies," Harry said, leaning on Ron as he stood. "Ah...." His legs only just supported him. "....And too few allies. I'm going to try and change that."

Do you see a happy ending to your life, your legend? Ethan asked as, supported by his friends, Harry began to limp towards the elevators.

There is no such thing, Harry replied in a tone that had been cultivated by experience. I'm looking at the end of a long life, Ethan, and all I can see is fire.

*~*~*~*