The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hogmanay

It hadn't been a very merry Christmas. The Daily Prophet had reported a number of fresh attacks, all of them carried out on academics, historians and medieval enthusiasts. The Prophet had finally made the link in its Boxing Day edition, much to the distaste of Mr. Weasley and Percy, who had been summoned from a full Weasley Christmas into the Ministry to help present a strong face to the public. Minister Fudge wanted the wizarding world to be calm, and was resisting making a public statement regarding the increasingly widespread rumours of Voldemort's return.

Fudge's gambit had backfired, however. The Prophet had labeled the recall a panic measure, and the tension in the wizarding world had increased noticeably.

Ginny and Ron were happy to board the Hogwarts Express, then, and bid farewell to a distracted Mrs. Weasley, who hurried off Platform Nine and Three Quarters before the guard even began to close the carriage doors.

"She's in a rush," Ron muttered as they found space in a compartment with the Patil twins and Lavender and Seamus.

"Probably off to, well, you know," Ginny whispered in reply. Ron nodded. Returning home to find the Burrow being used as a hub for the anti-Voldemort underground had been something of a shock. Having Mad-Eye Moody, Dedalus Diggle and an Auror called Kingsley Shacklebolt sleeping intermittently in the spare beds Molly Weasley seemed to conjure at will was disconcerting, but for Ron the strangest thing was having a young female Auror by the name of Tonks wandering around the house. Tonks had shared Ginny's room, and the two young women had got on to the point of near exclusivity.

Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, meaning that she could change certain parts of her appearance at will. On a dare from Ginny, she had turned her hair brown and bushy, and altered her features to the point that she closely resembled Hermione. She had then Apparated into Ron's room early one morning, before awakening him. In the dim early morning light, Ron had been halfway to hugging Tonks before he fully awoke and let out a yell that had brought Fred, Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt Apparating into Ron's room, wands drawn and ready to hex.

Mrs. Weasley had been furious with Ginny and Tonks, even after Ron had swallowed his own anger at them and forgiven them. Molly had ranted at the pair, slowly going further and further off topic until her rage had been focused not at them, but instead at the situation they found themselves in, with everyone risking their lives, everyone in danger, never knowing quite when danger might come...

"Molly," Mr. Weasley had said gently, taking her arm. "Come on now, let's have a cup of tea."

As Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left, Ginny and Ron had exchanged identical, sombre, looks.

Now they were heading back to Hogwarts, and Ron hoped that by the time they left in the summer, his mum would be okay. He hadn't liked seeing her upset, especially as he had felt somewhat responsible.

The plump witch appeared at the compartment door, her trolley overflowing with sweets and chocolate.

"Would anyone like anything?" she asked. Seamus got to his feet and bought some Chocolate Frogs, while Padma and Parvati bought pumpkin juice. Ron shook his head while Ginny stared at the floor. Ron sighed. He missed having Harry around. Considering what a gloomy sod he can be at times, Harry's got a knack for cheering people up, even if we only talked about Quidditch it'd be cool.

His stomach growled as he watched the trolley disappear. Harry had other plus points too, Ron frowned.

The only bright spot of the holidays had been Christmas Day itself, when everyone's worries had seemed to disappear for a glorious twenty-four hours. Fred and George had bought Ron a subscription to Quidditch Weekly, claiming that if they couldn't be at Hogwarts to oversee Ron's captaincy, they could at least make sure he was reading the right things. That week's magazine had lasted Ron all the way from Kings Cross to the Scottish border, but now he was thinking about the Aurors and Dumbledore's secret plans again. It all made him feel very melancholy.

Still, only another hour or so 'til Hogwarts, and then at least I can see Hermione again. Hope she's okay. I probably should've written more, but what was I supposed to put?

Dear Hermione,

Hope you're okay. Home's miserable. Mum's mostly grumpy, but sometimes she cries. Dad's stressed, Bill and Charlie are off doing secret stuff all the time, there's strange Aurors sleeping in my living room and the twins keep trying to make people laugh. It's not working.

Oh, and Percy's started losing his hair. It's probably stress related, so Dad's banned us from making fun of him.

Hope you're having fun at Hogwarts without us,

Ron

P.S. I almost snogged someone who looked a bit like you.

Ron grinned. I should have sent that, just to see what she'd say.

*

Hermione stood with Hagrid on the platform at Hogsmeade station. She held her wand close, warmed partly by the fire at its tip, partly by her proximity to Hagrid's huge lamp.

"Any minute now," he said, squinting into the gloom. Snowflakes speckled his beard, making him look rather more distinguished than usual. Hermione thought that it looked rather strange on him.

"There," he said, raising the lamp and pointing. Hermione shivered, partly from the loss of the lamp's heat, partly at the sight of a glow in the distance that she knew was the lights of the Hogwarts Express. Soon she'd see Ron again.

It hadn't been a very merry Christmas for Hermione, either. She had chosen to stay at Hogwarts rather than go home for the holidays, and while she had said that she was staying to work, she knew that it had been obvious she was staying for Harry. She had hoped that he would open up to her when it was just them, maybe even explain his cryptic comment about not being able to have friends.

It had been a very disappointing ten days.

Harry had spent almost the entire time in the library. Hermione had taken to sitting by him, but he had virtually ignored her. Once, when he had got up to get a drink, she had sneaked a look at the work he was doing. It had been advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, the sort of thing, Hermione suspected, that Aurors studied. Judging by his notes, Harry seemed to understand it rather well; Better, she thought, than she would have done.

Still, she thought, as the Express pulled up at the platform. He seems happy. Sort of. I suppose I just have to accept that he's made his choice

She sighed heavily.

I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

*

Excited chatter filled the halls of Hogwarts for the rest of the day, and much of the next. Last minute arrangements were made for dates to the Ball. Luna frustrated Ginny by refusing to say who she'd arranged to go with. Ron and Hermione had an explosive, instantly forgotten row about Gobstones. Harry held a number of study sessions with the few first, second and third years who had remained at Hogwarts over the holidays.

By five o'clock, Harry was feeling nervous, although he wasn't entirely sure why. He grabbed his Firebolt and headed for the Quidditch pitch. To his disgust, though not surprise, he was once again unable to fly higher than ten feet or so above the ground without feeling as though he would fall off. He walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, thinking about the last Quidditch match all the way.

*

Ginny shifted unhappily from one foot to another. She had been preparing for the ball for over an hour, and so far all that had happened was that Daniella Spinnet had styled her hair repeatedly.

"Dani, we'll be late," Ginny said, as her friend looked critically at Ginny's fifth new style in the last fifteen minutes.

"You want to look nice, don't you?" Daniella asked around a mouthful of hairgrips.

"Of course, but- Oh, honestly!" Daniella had released the latest style and Ginny's long red hair tumbled down around her shoulders once more.

Ginny gave up. She had been trying to avoid it, but time was of the essence now. Reaching into her make up bag, she pulled out the enchanted hair clip that Harry had given her for her last birthday. Daniella had the sense not to say anything as Ginny shoved the grip into her hair and muttered "French plait." There was a flurry of hair around her, and then a perfect plait lay precisely down the middle of her back.

"Come on," she said to Daniella, with forced brightness. "Let's do your makeup."

*

Dean stood with Seamus, Neville and Ron, fidgeting nervously as they waited for their dates to come downstairs.

Okay Dean, just friends. She's going through a horrible breakup. It's not even two months yet. This is not the time to make some nasty great tacky move on her.

He heard footsteps and turned expectantly, tugging nervously at the cuffs of his dress robes as he did so.

Blimey!

Okay, just friends. But if she's up for using me as a rebound, I'm not going to complain.

Feeling slightly dazed, Dean extended his arm to Ginny, who smiled politely and looped her arm through the crook of his. Hermione joined Ron, Neville took Daniella's hand and Seamus and Lavender exchanged a quick kiss.

The eight Gryffindors were about to leave, when Hermione looked around.

"Where's Harry?"

Dean felt Ginny's grip on his arm tighten slightly. "Well, he's going with Cho Chang, isn't he?" he said. "He left about half-an-hour ago to meet her."

"Oh, yes, of course."

Dean, valiantly ignoring Ginny's now vice-like grip on his arm, led the Gryffindors out of the common room.

*

The feast that accompanied the Hogmanay Ball was a triumph of the house elves' art. For once, Hermione refrained from any comments about the way that the elves were treated, for which everyone at their table was deeply grateful.

And then, when the meal was finished, the Weird Sisters appeared on stage and four spotlights reached out from the enchanted ceiling, picking out Ron and Hermione, Cho and Harry, Terrence Higgs and Pansy Parkinson, and Justin Finch-Fletchley and Eloise Midgen. The four Quidditch captains stood, extended their hands to their partners, and led them onto the dance floor.

"Good evening," Myron Wagtail, the lead singer of the band, announced. "It's always a pleasure to play at Hogwarts again."

There was a polite round of applause. It was well known that the members of the band had all once been at Hogwarts and the current students were proud that the globally famous band had had its origins in Hogwarts often-neglected music room.

"A big hand for the Quidditch captains and their partners," Wagtail said. There was another polite round of applause, which grew considerably louder as the band launched into their most recent hit, a slow number called Twisted Mystery.

Dean, watching the four couples dance, noticed that Harry and Cho looked very awkward dancing together. Then Cho said something, and Harry smiled. They quickly appeared more comfortable together.

The song ended, and there was a pause as more couples filed onto the dance floor. Harry and Cho stayed on the floor, Dean noticed, while Terrence and Pansy made a sharp exit. Pansy looked highly offended, while Terrence had a mutinous look on his face.

Dean looked across at Ginny, wondering if he should ask her to dance. The band struck up another slow song, and he decided to wait for a faster number before asking. It didn't escape his attention that Ginny was watching the dancers with a far away look in his eyes. He didn't have to try very hard to work out what was on her mind. One look at the dance floor, with Harry and Cho at the centre, was enough for him to know.

*

Ron and Hermione danced comfortably together. It was hard for them to believe, but a year had passed since their first date at the previous Hogmanay Ball. Hermione's head lay on Ron's shoulder, her hands on his chest, his hands clasped lightly in the small of her back.

The song ended, and Hermione gently broke the embrace. After two slow songs, it was time for a much faster number, and the drummer clattered his drumsticks together quickly to signify the change of pace.

*

"Dance?" Dean asked, putting his hand out to Ginny.

"Sure," she replied, smiling politely as she took his hand.

*

The dance floor filled quickly. Seamus and Lavender impressed with their exuberant dancing, while much was made of how very wrapped up in one another Neville and Daniella were. Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood caused quite a stir when they turned up together, wearing robes of matching blue and yellow. Rumours abounded about Harry and Ginny and their dates. Through it all rung the music of the Weird Sisters, fast songs like Auror Training and The Headless Hunt interspersed expertly with slower numbers like Bewitching You and Memorial.

Dean noticed more than a few couples exchanging shy, tentative first kisses to the slower songs. But he did nothing. As well as dancing with Ginny almost all night - except for one song where Ron had insisted on an exchange of partners - he had been keeping a discreet eye on her.

It's not like she's obvious about it, he thought as Ginny's eyes fleeted once more in the direction of Cho and Harry. She's doing better than I did when Hannah broke up with me. But the way she feels about him just shows in everything she does.

He remembered what Hagrid had told them about wolves, and their ability to sense through the Earth's magical field.

Yeah, just like Ginny. Her senses are tuned due Harry. The idea made him smile ruefully. Well, if Harry's who you want, Ginny, then Harry is who you shall have.

Now, time that I had a word with Mr. Potter.

Dean guided Ginny through a full circle, looking around to see where Harry was. Neither he nor Cho were visible on the dancefloor, and Dean was about to give up the search when he felt Ginny stiffen suddenly in his arms. Not for the first time that evening, Dean let his gaze follow hers, and as with all the times before, his gaze joined hers, looking at Cho and Harry.

Together.

Leaving the Great Hall, and heading for the rose garden.

Dean sighed quietly. It seemed that reuniting Ginny and Harry would be harder than he'd thought.

*

Harry and Cho wandered a little way away from everyone else, although Harry didn't think that any of the couples in the rose garden would have noticed if he and Cho had started yelling at the tops of their voices right next to them. They all looked rather preoccupied.

"Nice night," Cho said.

"Yeah. Thanks for coming out here. I was just feeling a bit hot inside."

"That's okay," she said. "With all those people dancing, it was bound to be quite warm."

"I didn't notice last year," Harry shrugged. "The year before, well, I only danced once."

He smiled at the memory of how bothered he had been, two years before, about finding a date to the Ball. He had wanted to go with Cho, and after that option had been taken away, almost anyone would have done. It all seemed rather amusing, in hindsight.

He looked at Cho, who seemed lost in her own thoughts. Harry realised immediately that she was thinking of the Ball from two years before as well.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About Cedric, I mean, bringing him up."

She looked up, and smiled. For the first time in a long time, Harry found himself thinking about how pretty she looked when she smiled.

"Don't be," she said. "Cedric wouldn't have wanted people to be sorry he was gone. It took me a long time to realise it, but he wouldn't have. It wasn't like him to mourn a loss. He celebrated life, every day. I'm trying to be like that. That's why I asked you to come with me tonight. You always seem so solemn, especially since Halloween. I thought I could help you have fun."

"You said that you'd have a miserable time tonight," Harry said, bending down to adjust his robes.

Cho nodded. "I thought that I would," she said. "But you're nice to be around, Harry. I don't like this time of year, but being with you, well, it makes it all a bit more bearable. You're a lot like Cedric, in a way."

She leant forward to kiss him on the cheek. At the last second, Harry straightened up, and turned his head to say something.

*

Ron and Hermione were on their way through the rose garden towards the lake. They held hands, and were sharing a rare, companionable, silence. Turning a corner, they stopped dead.

Ron's expression froze, and then gradually turned from blissful happiness to pure fury. He turned a deep red, which matched almost perfectly the colour of his robes, and then stormed off, leaving Hermione without a word.

Hermione was torn between following Ron, and staying. She felt uncomfortable watching Harry and Cho kissing, but couldn't help but think that there was some mistake. Hiding behind a bush, she watched as they broke apart. Then Cho smiled, then started giggling, and then suddenly she was doubled over in a huge laughing fit. Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment, and Hermione could imagine the thunderstruck expression on his face. Then his shoulders started shaking, and soon he was doubled over with laughter as well, the two of them trying to support one another, before collapsing onto the ground, Cho clutching her sides and Harry wiping his eyes.

Satisfied, Hermione turned away. She didn't have any idea how she'd explain it to Ron, but at least Harry's current mental state hadn't descended into complete insanity.

*

Cho was still giggling occasionally. Harry was smiling. The two dared not meet each other's gazes, lest they set off another bout of laughter. They made their way to a bench on the edge of the enchanted warmth of the gardens and sat down.

"Oh dear," Cho said, grinning.

"Yeah. D'you reckon anyone saw us?"

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," Cho said.

"Tonight," Harry said. "If I'm dead tomorrow, Ron saw us, or heard about it from someone."

"He's still angry, then?" Cho asked.

"Ron's always angry about something," Harry said dismissively. "If it's not me going out with Ginny, it's me breaking up with Ginny."

"And how did Ginny feel about you breaking up with her?" Cho asked, quietly.

"Well, she got mad at me, and now she's with Dean Thomas. I'd say she's coping okay, wouldn't you?" Harry said, his fists clenched tightly in his lap.

"Do you really believe that?"

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he looked out over the lake, and then turned to look over Cho's shoulder towards Hagrid's hut. Finally, he looked down at his hands, and unclenched the fists.

"No," he breathed, so quietly that Cho barely heard him.

"What?"

"No. I don't believe she's coping okay. I don't think Ron gets angry at everything and nothing. I don't think Hermione's bossy, or a know-it-all, and normally I'd be quite happy for her to interfere in my life. She does a much better job of it than I do, usually."

Cho stared at him.

"You're saying you were wrong to say all those things?" she said at last.

"No," he said, much more forcefully this time.

"I don't understand," Cho said.

"And given that you're in Ravenclaw, and a seventh-year, that's saying a lot," Harry smirked.

"Harry..."

"No, I'm sorry," Harry said. "Although if I'd heard you say that one more time, I'd have hexed you."

"You can't hex anyone, can you?" Cho asked, feeling somewhat at sea.

"It was a joke," Harry said, his green eyes sparkling brightly behind his glasses. "This thing called 'humour'. Sound familiar?"

Cho made a face. "Was I that annoying?"

"Yes," Harry nodded emphatically. "But it worked. I hope you're sitting comfortably. You've earned the truth about why I've been acting like Snape, whenever I'm around Ginny, Hermione and Ron.

"It was the night of Halloween. I hadn't been sleeping well, and I was really, really tired..."

*

Harry pushed the door of the staff room open. It was a quarter-past-six. With luck, he could capture the Boggart before Ron even showed up. He looked around, smiling at the decorations. It had been more than three years since he had been here, on the day Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and the only difference lay in the pumpkin lanterns and moving skeletons that had been scattered about. One of the skeletons waved to Harry, who waved back, stifling a yawn with his other hand.

There was a loud clattering from the cloak cupboard that stood against the far wall of the room. Harry approached cautiously, his wand drawn. He found himself visualising the Patronus he would cast, ready to knock the Boggart to the floor for him to trap in a Binding charm. His wand seemed to tingle in his hand, and Harry knew that the Patronus would burst forward with great eagerness.

He rested one hand on the cupboard handle, his wand ready in the other, and pulled the door open quickly.

*

"It wasn't a Dementor, was it?" Cho asked.

Harry shook his head. "Seems stupid to think it would be, really. I haven't been really scared of Dementors since the end of my fourth year."

"Was it You-Know... oh, curse it. Was it V-Voldemort?"

"Not... exactly."

*

"Expec-"

The word froze on Harry's lips. The figure before him was certainly no Dementor.

"Harry!"

It was Ginny.

"G-Ginny? What are you doing here? There's supposed to be a Boggart in there!"

"A Boggart?" Ginny laughed, her fiery hair dancing in the light from the pumpkin lanterns. "No, it's just me. All alone. Just me."

"Oh."

Ginny looked at the wand in his hand.

"Were you going to jinx me, Harry?"

"Er, no. Sorry. Like I said, I thought there was a Boggart in here. Er, are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale."

Harry looked closer. Ginny didn't just look pale. Her skin had no colour to it at all. Her face was a deathly white, the same colour it had been in the Chamber of Secrets.

"She's fine, Harry," Hermione said, stepping out of the shadows of the closet, side on to Harry. "We're all fine. Don't worry about us."

"Hermione? Is this some kind of joke? What's wrong with you?"

"Me? There's nothing wrong with me, Harry," Hermione said, turning to face him. Harry barely stifled a yell. The side of Hermione's face that had been hidden before was covered in blood, a wide cut just below her hairline glistened wetly.

"It's only a scratch, Harry. Don't worry."

"Listen to her, Harry. She's smart."

This time Ron stepped out of the shadows. He had his Gladius with him, but it trailed limply in one hand. His other hand was clamped to his side, but Harry could see blood welling between his friend's fingers, his shirt stained a rusty red, and the stain spreading further before Harry's eyes. Ron dropped to his knees, the sword clattering to the ground as he put out his hands to catch himself. The wound in his side bled heavily, the blood spattering on the floor beside him. Harry stood frozen to the spot, not knowing what to do.

"I'm sorry Harry," Ron gasped, falling flat to the floor. "It was a good fight. We did our best, but we couldn't hold out forever. Sorry-"

Harry watched, helpless, as Ron's head fell to the floor.

"Hermione!"

"Hmmm?" Hermione said, looking up from the floor. "Sorry, Harry, what was that?"

"Ron's-" the word caught in Harry's throat. "Ron's dead, Hermione. Don't you care?"

"Oh," Hermione said. "Sorry. I was thinking about the future. No, he's not dead."

"He's not? What do you mean, the future?"

"Well, we're going to be Death Eaters, Harry. I must say, I was rather worried when the Death Eaters brought us before the Dark Lord, but he could hardly have been more gracious. He said he was prepared to forgive us for fighting against him if we agreed to try and kill you."

"Death Eaters? What-" Harry was struggling to believe what he was hearing. Surely this isn't right? It can't be right. Death Eaters? No...

But Hermione was smiling serenely in a way that reminded Harry of when she has completed a particularly difficult homework problem. His gaze fell to her arm, where the Dark Mark burned proudly scarlet upon her pale skin.

"No..."

He knelt beside Ron's body for what seemed like an eternity, staring first at the corpse of his best friend, then up at Hermione who was humming unconcernedly to herself. Finally, he remembered that Ginny was still there. He stood up, his breathing sounding harsh and laboured in his ears, and turned to face her.

But Ginny wasn't alone. To Harry's almost numb horror, she was enfolded in the arms of someone Harry had hoped never to see again.

"Welcome back, Harry Potter," Tom Riddle said, a malicious smirk spreading across his face as he stroked Ginny's hair.

*

"Tom Riddle?" Cho asked, startling Harry slightly. He paused, unsure of how much he could safely tell her.

I've told her this much. And she can keep a secret, I'm sure.

"Tom Riddle is, was, Voldemort's real name," Harry said. "In my second year, he reappeared as a ghost, a spirit in a diary. He used a Hogwarts pupil to set loose the monster from the Chamber of Secrets. He nearly killed the pupil, draining their life force in an attempt to win back his life and begin again."

Cho nodded. She didn't ask who the pupil was, but Harry knew that she was guessing, and in all likelihood she was guessing correctly.

*

"Just the one thing left to do, and then I'll be ready," Tom said. "Just wait, Potter."

Riddle laid his hand on Ginny's head. She arched backwards, her mouth open in a silent scream, and then dropped lifelessly to the ground. Harry choked back a sob, his breath sounding still louder and harsher. But his eyes stayed fixed on Riddle. He couldn't, wouldn't, let anything distract him. He had to kill Riddle, no matter what the cost.

Then Riddle moved, and he seemed to be standing up straighter, except he had already been fully upright. Harry shuddered involuntarily as he watched Riddle twisting, his flesh shifting, the hair disappearing from his head, his features shifting, until-

"And now, Potter," Voldemort hissed. "Once again we stand face to face. No more shall we skulk in one another's dreams. Shall we duel again, Harry? Will you test your luck against my skill once more?"

Harry barely even realised what he was doing. He raised his wand sharply, the tip pointed at Voldemort.

"No, not yet," Voldemort said with a wave of his hand. Harry's arm was forced back down by his side. His breathing rasped still louder in his ears but... Harry realised that it wasn't his own breathing he was hearing. He turned to see that he was surrounded now.

Sirius and Remus were there, as were the Weasleys. Almost every single member of the Dueling Club was gathered together, and behind them stood the Hogwarts staff, including Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid. They looked hale and hearty, Dumbledore in particular looking younger and more carefree than Harry had ever seen him. They stood before him, smiling happily as they looked at him.

They were all clad entirely in black robes. They all had their wands in their hands. And they all were aiming at Harry.

And without exception, every single one of them had the Dark Mark blazing bright red on their arms.

"You see, Potter? I have won. Look at them. So many people who mean so very much to you. And I'll take them all, Potter. You know that I can, and you know that I will. Enervate!"

Harry was about to turn and see what it was that Voldemort was awakening when Ron stood up before him, his wounds healed over. Indeed, Harry could barely remember a time when Ron had looked so healthy.

"I told you," Hermione said. Harry's eyes were drawn back to the Dark Mark crackling on her right arm. "We were just waiting for him, waiting to be called. I'm sorry it had to come to this, Harry, but you understand, don't you? We had to choose this way. You don't exactly offer people a lot. The Dark Lord offers everything!"

"Hermione, no..." Harry moaned. "Don't..."

"Masks," Voldemort breathed. As one, the dozens of people standing before Harry took hoods from their pockets and pulled them over their heads. Harry stood before a crowd of Death Eaters far greater in size than the group who had assaulted Hogsmeade six months before. Even without the assistance of the Dementors, Harry knew that they would barely have to work to defeat him.

"Turn and face me, Potter," Voldemort commanded. Harry found himself turning without thought. Ginny stood before him.

"We had fun, Harry," she said. She raised a hood of her own, the Dark Mark burning brightest of all against her almost translucent skin. "But in the end, what chance did we ever have? It was always going to come down to this. In the end, it's all about choice, Harry. You never really expected us to choose a slow, hunted death with you over endless power alongside our Master, did you?"

Ginny placed the hood over her head, eclipsing her bright, glossy hair.

"He's shown us the true way forward. By joining him, we're happy," she said.

"You can't kill him, Harry," came Dumbledore's muffled voice from behind him.

"We'll fight you," Lupin's voice added.

"We'll stop you," Sirius agreed.

"Go on, dear. You can't beat us all. Just give up and save yourself a lot of pain before the end comes," Molly Weasley said.

"We couldn't beat him, son."

Harry turned. His parents stood before him once again, arm in arm, cold and pale. They had been dead for fifteen years, and now they were there to see their son face their murderer.

"We died so you could live," Lily Potter said. "We bought you fifteen years."

"I'm sorry it wasn't more," James Potter added. "Don't worry, though. It's surprisingly painless."

"Harry, it's time," Ginny said, slipping her cold, dry hand into his. "It all comes down to this, Harry. The final conflict. You against everyone else. You must have known, surely?"

Voldemort, who had been watching all this with great amusement, laughed. It was a truly horrible sound, like fangs scraping on a slate.

"They're mine now, Potter, not yours. I took them, one by one, two by two, in groups, it didn't matter. I took them, and I made them mine. I must say, I was surprised by how readily they joined me. I thought that you would have inspired some loyalty, but no. Some were very eager indeed," he ran a long, bony finger down Ginny's arm, and his forked tongue flickered briefly over his thin, bloodless lips.

Harry tried to feel anger, but it wasn't there. He could only find despair, despair and a faint horror that he was alone. Horror that everyone he cared for stood against him. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he struggled to stay standing, wanting nothing more than to just give up, to curl into a ball and give up on the world.

But deep, deep inside him there was a burning fury that after all he had given throughout his life, he was once again alone. Once again Voldemort stood before him, but this time he wasn't a baby, he was a wizard, and a powerful one, and he knew spells that could hurt and that could torture.

And that could kill.

"And now you, Harry Potter, stand alone. And the world can know the truth. You are nothing but a child. You can't defeat me. You don't have the skill, you don't have the power-" Voldemort made a sweeping gesture with both his hands "-and now you no longer have any friends to help you."

Harry's arms were suddenly free, the burning rage flaring within him as tears streamed down his face. Ignoring the crowd of traitors who surrounded him, he brought his wand up in one smooth motion and aimed it between Voldemort's cold, slitted eyes.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

To be continued...