Take Me as I Am

Take Me as I Am

Sometimes I see past the horizon,

Sure of my way, where I am going.

Harry Potter drifted through his seventh year at Hogwarts as though in a dream. The day for his final confrontation with Voldemort was approaching; he could feel it. It was as though the Prophecy made before he was born had somehow programmed him with an internal alarm clock that would go off when the time came. Harry didn't know how he knew this, but he could sense the time approaching. The world around him seemed more unreal with each passing day as his mind filled with what was coming, edging out the present.

Only when Harry spent time with Ginny did he feel like he returned to earth. She kept him grounded. He couldn't believe now that he had actually resisted forming a relationship with her. He had been reluctant to make her a target of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but Ginny had quickly refuted that argument. Once she had realized what was holding him back, she had confessed that her love for him had never really died. She'd also pointed out that she had stood against the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries and that she was now a member of the Order of the Phoenix, so she was already in danger. Then she had kissed him, and the incredible feeling of completion he received from that was an argument he couldn't stand against.

That had been several months ago, near the end of Harry's sixth year, and he and Ginny had been a couple ever since. That time also coincided with Harry finally beginning to feel that he might actually survive this. To be honest, he'd never truly believed it before. He realized now that he hadn't really had anything to look forward to. Now he did. An image of a world without Voldemort but with Harry still in it was taking shape in his mind, and it gave him hope.

Interestingly, Harry had finally learned how to keep Voldemort out of his head. It was not through the use of Occlumency, the study of which had turned out to be a waste of time. Instead, he had trained himself, whenever he felt an unfamiliar emotion coming over him or found himself in a dream that he knew was not his, to think of Ginny. The affection he felt for her confused and frightened Voldemort so that he fled. His attempts to infiltrate Harry's mind had become gradually more infrequent.

But where's the prize I have my eyes on?

Where? There is just no knowing.

This was not to say that Harry never allowed himself to fall into despair. Quite the opposite, in fact. There were still many times, particularly after a private session with Dumbledore, that he could not see victory. Frequently, he dragged himself into the Common Room and went immediately to Ginny. If his other friends, Ron and Hermione, were offended at this, they kept it to themselves. Actually, they seemed to appreciate having time alone together. Now that they had finally confessed their love for one another, Harry was rather a third wheel with them anyway.

One particular evening, he and Ginny were sitting beside each other on a sofa in the Common Room, Harry's arm around Ginny's shoulders. Across from them sat Ron and Hermione in a similar arrangement, except that Hermione was asleep with her head resting on Ron's chest. No one had spoken for a long time. Words simply weren't necessary, and Harry smiled to himself as he surveyed the scene. He cherished moments like this and attempted to burn them into his mind forever. This was what he was fighting for, and he couldn't lose sight of that.

And when despair tears me in two,

Who can I turn to but you?

You know who I am.

Take me as I am.

Harry woke suddenly in the middle of the night. It was time. He wouldn't have been able to explain how he knew that, but he knew. It was time for him to meet Voldemort, face to face, and he even knew where he needed to go. The same force that had programmed him with the spiritual alarm clock had also given him an internal map. Strangely, he felt no fear. He was finally about to complete the task that he was born to do, and all he could feel was relief mingled with a little anticipation. If he survived this night, he could actually begin to think about writing his own future.

Harry dressed quickly and quietly, being careful not to disturb anyone else. He slipped his invisibility cloak and his wand into pockets. Before leaving the room, he stared at the closed bed curtains that hid a sleeping Ron. They had been through so much together, and Harry desperately wanted to see him one last time, to say goodbye. He couldn't, though, and he knew it. So, searching through the gloom once more to be certain he wasn't leaving behind anything he might need, he went down to the Common Room.

Look in my eyes; who do you see there?
Someone you know, or just a stranger?

When Harry reached the Common Room, it was not quite empty. Ginny sat on a chair, arms wrapped around herself, looking straight at him. Somehow, Harry was not surprised. It seemed very fitting that she was here, that she, too, had an internal clock telling her what was coming. Harry felt oddly detached from himself, as though he were following a script that had been written for him long ago.

"I knew," Ginny said quietly. "I knew you would be going."

"I have to," Harry said simply, walking over to her.

"I know." Ginny stood up and embraced him tightly. She pulled back and stared into his face, as though trying to memorize every detail. He knew that's what he was doing. Then, moving as one, they joined in a desperate, passionate kiss. It seemed to last a very long time. They savored every sensation as if it were their last, both knowing that it might be. At last, Harry stepped back, breaking all contact.

"I'll have to wake the others," Ginny told him. "You know that, don't you?"

Harry nodded.

"I know," he answered, smiling a little in spite of himself. "I only ask that you give me time to leave the grounds."

"Nothing in the Prophecy says that you have to go alone!" Ginny said, with little hope of convincing him. It was an old argument by now.

"Yes, but I'm the only one feeling the summons, aren't I?"

"I felt something, too. It woke me," Ginny pointed out. Harry sighed.

"We've been over this. Everything that is going to happen now has already been written. Only the outcome is in doubt. If you and the others are supposed to be there, you will be. Nothing can prevent that, not even my wishing to protect you."

Ginny took one long, deep breath, and then nodded to show that she understood. Neither of them spoke again; words would only postpone the inevitable. Harry locked eyes with her once more and climbed out the portrait hole.

If you are wise, you will see me there.
Love is the only danger.

Harry went down to the Quidditch pitch to get his Firebolt. He could simply leave the Hogwarts grounds and Apparate, of course, but flying was the only thing he really felt he did well, and he wanted that potential advantage. Besides, flying in might give him the opportunity to take in the situation before he committed himself to a course of action.

Harry turned back to take one last look at Gryffindor Tower. Even from that distance, he thought he saw Ginny in the window, outlined by the dim firelight. He held up one hand in a final farewell, though he doubted that she could see him. Then he mounted his broomstick and took off.

The ride was a fairly long one, which should have given him entirely too much time to pause and reflect. Instead, his mind was oddly blank. That detached feeling had not subsided; if anything, it seemed to be increasing. A small part of his brain wondered if Voldemort was feeling much the same way going into this meeting. The rest of him didn't care.

At last, below him, Harry saw the appointed place. This was where it had all begun, and this was where it would end. Although he had no conscious recollections of being there, it felt strangely familiar. Well, perhaps not so strange, since he had lived there for the first fifteen months of his life. Harry spotted the ruins of his parents' cottage, just outside of Godric's Hollow. He knew he should feel pain at the sight, but he didn't. He did not even try to fight the emptiness within. He could grieve later, if there was a later. Instead, he remembered Ginny, filling his mind with visions of her.

Atop a hill nearby, there were black-robed shapes in a loose circle. Of course, Voldemort wouldn't abide by the rules; he would try to keep his Death Eaters between him and Harry as long as possible. It didn't matter, though. In the end, it would just be the two of them.

Love, meaning me; love, meaning you.
We'll make that one dream come true.
You know who I am; take me as I am.

Harry clung to thoughts of Ginny as he landed at the base of the hill. Every memory, the sights, sounds, and smells of the time he had spent with her were like a shield that he carried before him. He dismounted from his Firebolt and left it there. No sense giving everything away, and he could always summon it if he needed it. He considered the invisibility cloak but decided to simply walk purposefully up the hill, making no attempt to hide his approach. They knew he was coming.

Voldemort was the first to notice him. He gestured, and the Death Eaters backed out of the way so that he and Harry could see each other clearly, or at least, as clearly as was possible in the gloom.

"You've made the appointment, too, I see," said the high-pitched voice. "I was afraid you might not come."

The tone of this was ridiculing, and some of the Death Eaters murmured their agreement. Harry didn't respond and entered the circle uncontested. Voldemort knew perfectly well that this was one engagement neither of them could have missed, but there was no point in saying so.

"Well?" Harry said at last as they stood facing each other in the circle. "You know we can't duel with our wands. How were you planning to kill me?"

Though fate won't always do what we desire,
Still, we can set the world on fire!

To Harry's surprise, Voldemort only smiled and leaned close to him. He spoke softly, so that his allies could not hear.

"We don't have to do this, you know," he hissed. "We could join forces instead. I will be a father to you, and you and I shall rule the world together!"

Harry stared at him, thinking that he couldn't possibly be serious. He could feel Voldemort trying to influence his mind, but it had no effect. Then he saw the wild light in Voldemort's red eyes and realized that he was serious. This struck Harry as so ludicrous that he couldn't help himself; he laughed. He laughed long and hard, watching as the older wizard's snakelike face contorted into a mask of rage. Harry could feel the fear lurking beneath the anger, and the knowledge brought him confidence.

"You think to be my father?" Harry said derisively, once his laughter had subsided. "Do you offer to love me? You, who do not know what love is? Are you so afraid of death that you offer that which you do not have? But of course, death is what you fear most, isn't it? You've expended so much energy to become immortal, only to come here to die today. I don't fear death. That is my strength."

"If you don't wish to live, then just let me kill you!"

"I didn't say I didn't wish to live, only that I don't fear death. That isn't the same thing."

"You're a fool, boy!" Voldemort snarled, nearly frothing in his rage. "I don't need to kill you myself. Any one of my faithful servants here would be only too happy to rid me of you!"

"I don't think it will work that way," Harry replied calmly as he drew his wand, "but you're welcome to let them try."

Before anyone else realized what he was doing, he called out, "Accio Firebolt!" His broomstick zoomed towards him from its resting place and into his waiting hand. Several Death Eaters had to dodge out of the way. Meanwhile, Voldemort was directing his followers to curse Harry. He took off as quickly as he could, somehow managing to avoid getting hit by any of the spells coming out of the wands surrounding him. In the air, he was a constantly moving target, and they couldn't see him well anyway because of the darkness. He swooped back and forth, casting all of the curses at his disposal. He hit occasionally, but was rarely able to accomplish more than brief disorientation in the evil wizards. At last, his luck ran out. One well-aimed curse caught his broom, forcing him to jump off it. He rolled with the landing, but he still broke his left wrist, sprained an ankle, and felt like several ribs were cracked. The wind was knocked out of him, and he looked up, ready for the end.

Give me your hand, give me your heart.
Swear to me we'll never part.

Just at that moment, a series of pop! sounds could be heard around the hillside. Suddenly, the Death Eaters were being engaged from behind. Harry couldn't see who they were, but he figured that Ginny had sounded the alarm, and this was the cavalry, so to speak. He struggled to draw breath, and managed to sit up. As he did so, he saw Voldemort advancing toward him.

"Hello, Tom," came the welcome voice to his right. It was Ginny. Voldemort stopped short at being called by his given name. During his moment of distraction, Ginny shoved something into Harry's hands. It was the Sorting Hat. He knew what he had to do. He drew Gryffindor's sword from inside the hat, and carefully set the hat on the ground.

As Harry straightened back up again, he saw Ron and Hermione come up on his left side, wands at the ready. Harry smiled to himself. This was the way it should be, he realized. He felt a great surge of love for all three of them, and the sword he held suddenly glowed blue with power. Voldemort saw it at last, and this time there was no mistaking his fear.

Harry led the advance toward the dark wizard, no longer aware of the battle raging around him.

"Serpensortia!" Voldemort shouted, and a large snake came out of his wand and landed on the ground. Harry simply kept it at bay with Parseltongue, and Ron incinerated it. Voldemort tried to cast curses at Harry, but they were all deflected by the blue aura of the sword. Then he cast some at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, but one of the others was always able to end the enchantment before it did much harm. His last act, and his final mistake, was casting the Cruciatus curse on Ginny. As she crumpled to the ground, Harry lunged forward, closing the short distance between them, and drove his blade into the dark wizard's body.

"That's for my mother!" he shouted. He struck again and again, with each blow naming someone new. "That's for my father! That's for Cedric! That's for Ginny!"

The final strike went straight into Voldemort's heart.

"And that's for me," Harry whispered into Voldemort's face as the evil wizard breathed his last. Breathing heavily, and finally beginning to feel the pain of his injuries, Harry staggered back and looked around him.

You know who I am.
Take me as I am.

With Voldemort's death, the enchantments he had cast ended, and Ginny was released from the pain that had enveloped her. Harry dropped the sword and ran to her, taking her into his arms.

"I'm all right," she said before he could ask and managing a small smile. "You did it."

"We did it," he corrected, looking around him. The Death Eaters had all been subdued by Aurors or members of the DA, although some had probably Apparated away when the fight seemed to be going against them. Ron and Hermione were on the ground nearby, releasing tension by kissing each other passionately. Harry smiled, then turned back to Ginny and followed their example, feeling lighter than he could ever remember feeling. It was over, and the future spread out before them all like a book not yet written.