The Final Battle

Harry felt himself coming to consciousness. Bright light flooded in front of his eyes and a wave of noise washed over him. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling groggy. Voices became distinct surrounding him.

"Oh look Ron, he's waking up, he'll be alright, thank goodness."

"Harry, dear, how are you?"

As Harry's eyes began to focus, he was aware that he was in a brightly room. He was looking up at a white washed ceiling. He tentatively turned his head in the direction of the voices, aware that it felt very heavy.

"Harry!" he heard someone say, and he fixed his eyes on the faces next to him. As the scene became clearer, he saw Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley's white faces looking with concern at him.

Mrs. Weasley stretched out a hand and placed it on Harry's clammy forehead. She stroked it, worriedly. "How do you feel, Harry dear?" she asked him.

"Where am I?" asked Harry, glancing around him at what seemed to be some kind of hospital ward, due to the presence of healers.

"You're in St. Mungo's. Don't worry, you're getting well looked after," replied Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, mate, that was pretty bad what happened to you," interjected Ron suddenly. "I mean, you managed to fight off all those Death Eaters, it was amazing, but then Rookwood and some others hit you with a load of curses all at the same time. No wonder you ended up here."

Harry lifted his head and felt sharp pain sear across the nape of his neck. He grimaced.

"I think you hit the back of your head on something hard like a rock when you fell," explained Hermione seeing the expression on his face.

"Fell?"

"Yes, after Lestrange hit you with that blinder. It looked really painful."

"Yeah," said Harry dully, "can't remember any of it though."

"Probably a good thing," Ron muttered.

"We've been here all night," said Hermione. "We just hoped you were going to be alright."

"I think we all need some tea," said Mrs. Weasley, standing up. She smiled weakly at Harry. "I'm just glad to see you awake Harry. I was so worried." She unexpectedly leaned over him and gave him a comforting hug and then turned and walked away.

Ron watched her as she walked away and waited until she had left the ward before turning to Harry.

"I saw you with Malfoy," he said quietly.

"Oh yeah," replied Harry even though he felt as if he wasn't up to talking.

"You had your wand to him, you could've killed him. But then you let him get up and walk away."

"Ron," said Hermione in a low voice, "I don't think Harry needs this right now."

"Why didn't you kill him?" asked Ron with a perplexed look on his face.

Harry suddenly felt very tired. "I did it," he said," because..."

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," interrupted Hermione hurriedly. "It's your own business." She turned to Ron, "You shouldn't be asking him, not when he's just come round. He doesn't have to tell us anyway."

"It's ok, Hermione," Harry said, stopping her. He cleared his throat. "I did it because...I did it because I had to. Don't you see that," he said as Ron and Hermione threw puzzled looks at each other, "I am only going to kill one person and that is Voldemort. Killing Draco would be pointless. We are going to need him later."

Ron looked incredulous, but Hermione quietly said, "Wizard's debt. It's old magic. He owes you now, Harry."

"Exactly." Harry moved a hand to smooth down his hair but felt a jolt of pain flash across his arm.

Hermione nodded silently, as if she understood.

"How is everyone?" Harry asked, determinedly ignoring Ron's questioning look and focussing on Hermione. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Everyone else is fine, Harry, don't worry," said Hermione soothingly. "Neville was hit with a curse but they're fixing him up."

"And Tonks was absolutely fantastic," broke in Ron, deciding to ignore his feelings of puzzlement. "You should have seen her, Harry, she was fighting a whole bunch of Death Eaters single-handedly. Never seen anything like it. 'Mazing," he finished staring into middle distance.

"What about Ginny?" asked Harry looking up at Hermione.

"She's fine, Harry," breathed Hermione.

"Yeah, she wanted to come here today, but mum wouldn't let her, thought it was too soon."

"So that's it," said Harry, feeling a wave of relief washing over him. "The war's over and no one was seriously injured."

"But the war's not over Harry," said Ron.

"You see the thing is," said Hermione, her eyes on Harry's face, "you have to kill Voldemort. If you don't kill him, no one else can."

"But all the Death Eaters got in the way," added in Ron. "They stopped you before you got to him."

"So...?" asked Harry.

"So he got away before you got a chance to kill him," Hermione told him quickly. "He still out there Harry. He 's still alive."

"So the war goes on," said Harry and lay back down on his bed, thinking.

"Yeah," said Ron dejectedly, "yeah, that's it exactly.

What a fool he was to let Malfoy go, Harry thought. He should have just blasted him and got on with it. He might have got to Voldemort sooner and therefore been able to kill him. But now he'd wasted valuable time. He felt such an idiot.

"Here, you go Hermione," Harry heard a voice next to him say. It was Mrs. Weasley returning with the teas. "I had a job to find these, they don't make it easy for you..."

But Harry hardly heard what she was saying. He was thinking over Ron and Hermione's words.

"Harry," said Hermione quietly," there's a tea here for you, look."

Harry took the cup she was offering but he couldn't get what he had just been told off his mind. After all the war could have been finished now, if it wasn't for him.