The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Thirty-Six: Harry vs. Voldemort

Harry was wrenched around to face Voldemort once more. He felt as though everything he'd gone through that year - the separation from his friends, the injuries, the loss of his powers and now seeing Moody and Diggle dead at the hands of Voldemort - had caught up with him. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and then wake up to discover that it had all been just a dream.

He sagged in Goyle's grip, the heavyset Death Eater grunting as the meager weight of Harry's slight frame hung in his hands. With Goyle distracted, Harry hooked his fingers on the pocket of the Death Eater's robes. No one seemed to notice.

"Demoralised, Potter? I can hardly blame you. Your strongest warriors were stupid enough to attack five Death Eaters. It was a short battle, and of course the two of them were very old. They will not be much missed."

"Just give me my wand," Harry said tiredly. "If you're so sure of yourself, let me fight you."

"So eager to die, Potter? You would not live long in a fight with me. I am stronger, far stronger than when last we met. I was newly reborn then, unsure of what I could do. But two years have passed since that momentous day, and I am well aware of my capabilities."

As though in demonstration, Voldemort waved his wand and a rock beside Harry's foot exploded in a puff of powder.

"I could do that as easily to your head, Potter," Voldemort hissed.

"So prove it," Harry said. Where are the others!

Voldmeort was about to reply when a new Death Eater entered the chamber and approached Voldemort carefully, his eyes fixed upon the floor.

"Speak," Voldemort commanded imperiously.

"My lord, we have new prisoners," the man said.

"Bring them in," Voldemort commanded, his red eyes still fixed on Harry.

Don't let it be Dumbledore, don't let it be Dumbledore, don't let it be Dumbledore, Harry thought desperately.

"Let them go, and I'll let you complete the ritual before I attack you," he said suddenly.

"You will attack me?" Voldemort sneered contemptuously. "Better for you to die now, Potter, before your ego becomes too big to control."

As the new Death Eater turned away, Voldemort turned to watch him, but not before spiking Harry with another blast of pain through his scar. Harry took his chance. He slumped backwards into Goyle, shoving his hand deep into the older man's pocket. His fingers closed around the wand concealed there, and he grinned slightly. Goyle would copy Voldemort in keeping his wand in his robe pocket.

The third Death Eater was halfway towards the tunnel when Harry suddenly stood up straight, breaking free of Goyle's grip as he did so. With Goyle's wand pointing behind him, he cast a Disarming spell that caught the Death Eater in the stomach.

Ollivander had been right, all those years ago. The spell that Harry cast was nowhere near as refined as Harry would have expected, had been using his own wand. Instead, Harry's raw magical power blazed almost unchecked from the wand, throwing Goyle up into the air and sending him crashing, hard, into the stone wall of the cavern. He dropped to the ground in a very broken manner, but before he was halfway to the ground, Harry had cast a full body bind at the Death Eater who had brought word of prisoners.

This at least worked as it was intended to do, although the Death Eater was not frozen as though standing at attention. Instead, he was simply frozen in mid step, and toppled to the ground in what looked like a very uncomfortable position.

Crabbe, the last remaining Death Eater, was either too slow or too stupid to react to the assault on his colleagues. He held tightly to Ginny and made no effort to go for his wand or get out of the way even as Harry turned and took aim at him. One Stunning spell later - which lifted Crabbe off his feet and dropped him head first to the sandy cavern floor - Ginny was free.

"Run!" Harry yelled, even as he turned to face Voldemort.

Ginny took off like a scalded house elf, snatching up Crabbe's wand, and sprinting across the cavern floor towards the tunnel they had been brought up.

"Not there!" Harry yelled, realising that there were probably Death Eaters waiting in the tunnel with the prisoners that the now-frozen Death Eater had mentioned.

At the last split-second, Ginny's Quidditch-honed reflexes allowed her to throw herself away from the tunnel opening, a red bolt of light searing out of the tunnel and missing her by inches. She crawled quickly across the cavern floor and took cover behind a rock. She was shielded from Voldemort at least, if not the Death Eaters on the raised walkway. There was a pause as Harry and Voldemort stared at each other.

"I just took out three of your best men. Do you want to give up now?" Harry asked quietly. Voldemort looked at him contemptuously.

"I assure you, Potter, that Crabbe, Goyle, and Johnson are hardly my best men. Besides, even if they were, the power that my best men possess is but a fraction of that wielded by Lord Voldemort, and soon my strength will be multiplied many times over as I take what Le Fay has left for her rightful heir."

Harry glanced up at the raised walkway upon which Voldemort's massed Death Eaters were standing. He smiled slightly.

"So you're the heir to Morgan Le Fay as well as Salazar Slytherin? I thought I had bad relatives."

"Enough bantering, Potter. You wish to fight me?"

Harry took a deep breath. He wasn't sure that what he was about to do next was very wise. "Better for me to do it now, when you're scared of me," he said.

Voldemort regarded Harry in a way that suggested he doubted Harry's sanity.

"That's the reason you're after Le Fay's power, isn't it? It's in the prophecy. I'll be the first person to die if you get the power, and that means I'm the person you're scared of the most. How many times have we met now? Is it six times? And you've managed to avoid Dumbledore all this time. But I keep interfering, don't I? And so you want the power to fight me, because you know that I can beat you."

"You think that you can defeat me?" Voldemort asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said.

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, a high pitched, whining chuckle that grated on Harry's ears.

Harry took a deep breath and leapt forward, hands outstretched and grasping for Voldemort's thin, scaly neck.

*

Ron awoke slowly, his head pounding. He was shivering, and felt as though he'd been for a swim in the lake in the middle of January.

Like that nutter Krum. Does Hermione still speak to him?

He opened his eyes carefully, aware that the various sensations that that he was experiencing meant that his hands were tied behind his back and that he was being held face down above the ground. His feet trailed on the floor behind him, and he pulled them under him, ready to spring upright if given the opportunity.

Or if I find out these wankers holding me are up to no good.

He looked around, his eyes only slightly open as he struggled against the dazzling light that filled the tunnel they were in.

Last thing I remember... I found Hermione, and she was still alive, and then there was a load of shouting.

Ron scowled as he realised that he had been stunned and taken prisoner. He craned his neck slightly and saw the Dark Mark on the arm of one of his captors.

So, that's not good news.

He looked to where the light was brightest and jumped in surprise as Ginny was silhouetted against the light for a split-second. As quick as a flash, one of the Death Eaters drew his wand and aimed. He was halfway through a curse when Ron pushed upwards, breaking free of the grip his captors had upon him and jolting the Death Eater's arm. The curse flew wide, and Ginny disappeared from view.

Oh, Circe...

Ron dropped to his knees as the group who were holding him - Ron counted eight men in total - rounded upon him. There was a dull thud as two of them dropped something to the floor - Please let it be Hermione - and then they pounced upon him.

*

Harry bore Voldemort to the floor, his hands seized tightly around the high collar of the Dark wizard's robes. He felt his knees hit the ground and immediately reared back, lashing out with his left hand and punching Voldemort as hard as he could in his lipless mouth.

Harry cried out as the momentary contact with Voldemort's scaled skin resulted in another shot of agony that blazed furiously through his scar. Shaking his head, he took advantage of Voldemort's momentary disorientation to plunge his hand deep into the robe pocket that held his and Ginny's wands. Plucking them from Voldemort's robes, he pushed himself upright and hopped backwards and out of Voldemort's reach.

Holding Goyle's wand aloft, Harry touched tip of his own wand to it.

"Incendio," he muttered, setting the wand alight. He dropped it to the ground where it burnt to ash, the dragon heartstring inside evaporating on contact with air.

Holding up Ginny's wand, he Banished it towards her and watched with a faint smile as she plucked it easily from the air.

"Ready?" he called.

"Just say the word," she replied coolly. Harry was relieved to hear her sounding so composed.

"Just make sure you stay out of this," he said. "I know it's going to take a lot out of you."

He turned to face Voldemort, who was still sprawled on the floor.

"I'm not stupid, Tom. I'm not going anywhere near you. You'll cheat, of course. That's your way."

Voldemort looked up from the floor.

"You've learned, Potter. It would have been easier to kill you had remained young and foolish, but it shall be so much sweeter to kill you now that you have gained some wisdom."

Voldemort rose without seeming to move a muscle. It was as though he was hinged at the heels, pivoting upright without changing his pose in any way in much the same way as a cobra rearing up to strike its foe. Harry had just enough time to wonder if Voldemort had used a levitation charm before the Dark wizard smirked and Harry's scar seemed to explode.

He staggered backwards, bent almost double with the pain. The world around him dimmed as darkness grew around its edges. Harry struggled to look up, wanting to see Voldemort cast what would surely only need to be a single spell to finish him off.

Pain wor...

Worse than...

Than...

Than...

Cru...

C...

The darkness enveloped Harry's senses. The last thing he was aware of was his body hitting the ground.

*

Ron was used to fighting against the odds. He had, after all, grown up with five older brothers, and the frequent scuffles among the Weasley boys had often degenerated into one brother being the target of all the others, whether it were Bill, Ron, or any of those in between.

Even Percy had his share of fights.

But those had been honest, everyday brawls between brothers, quickly started and more quickly forgotten. Ron had never fought with his hands tied behind his back. He had never been piled upon by eight larger, older opponents. He had never had to worry about being killed if he lost.

Apart from that time me and the twins burned Percy's Potions essay by mistake.

He had managed to shunt one of the Death Eaters into the tunnel wall, stunning the older man and incapacitating him.

Seven left, then...

Ron fought valiantly, and tried to cheat as much as possible. In this, being able to lash out at anything helped him immensely. He was alone and had no allies to worry about. The Death Eaters he faced were at least trying to avoid hitting each other, although a small part of Ron's brain noticed that they weren't too bothered if they did so.

Ron was lashing out at everything, and managing to land some choice blows. But he was tired and groggy, the swim in pursuit of Hermione had left him weak and sore. He had been swept down a long, dark tunnel and had lost sight of her until they were swept out into thin air thirty feet above the surface of a rapidly growing underground lake. He had hit the surface hard, the breath knocked out of him by the impact, and it had been several seconds before he could orient himself enough to find Hermione.

When he did, he pulled her frantically to the surface and dragged her to the bank of the lake. He'd had just enough time to ascertain that she was alive before being jumped by the Death Eaters.

And now they've jumped me again. Bloody hell...

Ron struggled valiantly, but it wasn't enough. He collapsed under a flurry of blows as the Death Eaters managed to organise themselves enough to beat him down.

After he was down - and the Death Eaters took the chance to kick him a few times - they hauled him upright. They untied his arms, and two of them took an arm each. They propped him up against the wall, his arms spread out with one Death Eater holding either wrist. He wondered muzzily what was going to happen until the other five Death Eaters lined up in an unmistakable fashion.

Firing squad.

He didn't wince. He wanted to look death in the eye if it was coming. He was sorry that we was going to die, was sorry that he wouldn't have one last chance to talk to Hermione, but he was a Gryffindor.

And when the time comes then we die bravely. Simple as that.

"On three," one member of the firing squad growled. Ron noticed that the two men who were holding his wrists backed as far away as they could, obviously not wanting to be caught in the backlash of five killing curses.

"One.

"Two.

"Th-"

There was a loud, dull thumping noise, and the counting man collapsed limply to the floor. Hermione appeared from behind him, looking as unsteady as Ron did and holding a heavy looking rock.

"Duck!" Ron yelled, but all Hermione managed was to glance up at him enquiringly. Ron cursed loudly as the four conscious Death Eaters quickly overcame her.

A few moments later, Hermione was pinned to the wall in the same way as Ron, a Death Eater at each wrist. A Death Eater stood in front of each of the teenagers. The one in front of Ron sneered.

"It's more personal this way," he said. "One killing curse each. I know you'll appreciate the care and attention."

Exactly how I wanted to end my life; at the hands of a comedian.

"Kill us and be done with it," Ron spat. "I don't reckon you want your boss coming around the corner and seeing you playing with the prisoners. I reckon he'd want to do the killing himself."

"No, he'd offer you a chance to join us. I suppose we can do that too. Interested? Of course, you'd have to prove your loyalty by, say, killing your Mudblood girlfriend."

Ron glared at the man and told him to do something that would generally only be anatomically possible with the thinner end of a wizard's wand.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. Probably just as well. I know your family of old, Weasley. Disgrace to purebloods everywhere, you are."

Ron looked closer at the man, but couldn't place him. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and as far as Ron knew, he'd never seen him before in his life.

"He doesn't care about all that pureblood rubbish," Ron said suddenly.

"What?"

"Your boss. He's a halfblood. Didn't know that, did you?"

"Shut up." The Death Eater was furious.

Great. I pissed off the man who's going to kill me. Wonderful. Good job, Ron. If Hermione were awake, I bet she could talk us out of it, but she isn't so it's my job. Merlin help us all...

"Well, he is. His name's Tom Riddle. His mum was a witch, his dad was a Muggle. Didn't he ever tell you that?"

"I said shut up!"

"I guess not," Ron said. "Well, something to bring up next time you chat to him."

The Death Eater offered another sneer, but this one didn't seem to have the passion of his earlier effort.

I guess that's something, Ron thought as the two executioners took their positions.

"Sorry, Hermione," he whispered as the two men pointed their wands at them.

I didn't even get to use Excalibur...

*

Harry's eyes snapped open. The first thing he saw was Voldemort standing over him, wand poised and ready to deliver a spell at his prone form.

The first thing he thought was: No pain.

He twisted on the ground, catching Voldemort's legs between his own and throwing the Dark wizard off balance. He rolled and pushed himself up onto all fours. Looking up, he caught sight of Ginny looking over the rock she was sheltering behind. She gave him a shaky thumbs-up before dropping back down, and Harry guessed that she had opened her end of the link once more. Dumbledore, it seemed was right. Harry and Ginny's bond did seem to disrupt the link that Harry shared with Voldemort.

Thinking of Ginny made an image of Dean flash into Harry's mind. He got his feet under him and rose smoothly, his wand outstretched in one hand.

"Gladius!" he yelled.

Godric Gryffindor's sword took shape in his hand, the tip of the blade cutting through Voldemort's robes and deep into his arm, making the Dark wizard hiss in pain as he rose. Harry brought the sword up and around and glared at Voldemort.

Voldemort, for his part, simply stared at the wound on his arm. To Harry's disbelief, it was already healing. Even as Harry watched, the wound completely disappeared, leaving only a thin white line visible on Voldemort's pale skin.

"And you thought it would be easy, Potter," Voldemort sneered. "You have your pretty sword and your clever trick, but no weapon forged by mortal man can take my life, Potter, not even a magical weapon such as yours. Still, as you wish to duel... Gladius!"

Voldemort's wand turned into the short knife that Harry had seen in his dream months before.

"Maybe before you die, I'll put the Dark Mark on you and make sure everyone knows that you fell at the hands of the greatest wizard who has ever walked this earth."

"You don't walk, Tom. You slither," Harry said.

"Word games will avail you nothing," Voldemort said. "It is you and I now, Potter. As it was always meant to be. You will not be protected by the brother wand effect this time. Our swords will act as normal, and I assure you that I am a very skilled swordsman."

"I learnt from the best," Harry said, glancing up at the watching Death Eaters and smiling again. "You don't have a chance, Tom."

"We will never know unless we fight," Voldemort hissed.

"Agreed," Harry said, darting forward on the last syllable and swinging at Voldemort.

Their blades met exactly halfway between them. Harry's sword was nearly jolted from his hands by the impact and he immediately knew that Voldemort had been wrong about the brother wand effect. Both his and Dumbledore's wands had cores made from the tailfeathers of Fawkes the phoenix, which made them unstable when forced to fight one another. It seemed that this effect extended to the Gladius form of their wands as well.

It's a challenge, Harry thought grimly. Good job Dean taught me how to cheat.

Harry and Voldemort paced through a quarter circle, keeping the tips of their blades aimed at one another's throats. It was Harry who lunged first, but Voldemort was only a hair's breadth behind. The blades clashed with a mighty reverberation that nearly threw Harry off his feet. He could tell that Voldemort was barely more stable.

"Seems like you were wrong," Harry said.

"You are a thorn in my side, Potter. I will take delight in killing you."

"Also seems like I've heard that before. Have you ever sat through Professor Binns' History of Magic class? You won't bore me to death, believe me. I've had experts training me against that."

Voldemort scowled, or at least the skin above his eyes puckered together. Harry was surprised to realise how difficult it was to interpret a motion like that, given that Voldemort had no eyebrows to frown with.

"Look around you, Potter," Voldemort hissed. "There is nowhere to hide. Your young friend has the only shelter in this cavern and wherever you go my Death Eaters can hex you in a moment. It is only a matter of time before I kill you, and you may rest assured that I will do it with magic, not with words."

Harry's eyes flickered upwards once more. He smiled grimly at Voldemort.

"Come on then, old man," he said. "What are you now, seventy?"

"Age is no barrier to one who has already defeated death," Voldemort said, lashing out at Harry.

Harry hadn't been prepared for the attack. Ducking outside the range of Voldemort's knife, he had momentarily forgotten that the wand could still be used to cast spells. Thus it was that Voldemort's Stunning spell caught him almost entirely unprepared, battering past the still-forming Shield spell that Harry had cast upon seeing the glow of Voldemort's wand. The Shield dissipated the effects, but Harry still had the breath knocked out of him and dropped to one knee for a second. Voldemort came at him, knife whirling around his head as he prepared for a downward strike that would have cut deep into Harry's skull.

Harry threw himself backwards, landing hard on his back but avoiding Voldemort's knife for a few seconds. He kicked up, catching Voldemort's hand but feeling the tip of the knife dig into his shin. Harry winced, but it seemed to be a largely superficial wound, and not one that would cause him too much trouble.

"Incendio!"

The line of flame erupted from Voldemort's knife and brushed against Harry's chest. He froze in horror as he felt the flame seize the material of his robes and quickly rolled over to try and smother the flames. Barely had he landed on his chest before he was moving again, forcing himself upright and bringing his sword around to meet a stab from Voldemort that would have entered Harry's back and pierced a lung if Harry had not moved.

"I am better, Potter," the Dark wizard smiled. "Surrender now and your passing will be quick."

"But if I keep fighting then you might lose," Harry said. "Besides, Gryffindors don't give up."

"Foolish child. The truly intelligent know when to temper bravery with sense."

"Ah, well, that's not me. Always been bravery first, thoughts second," Harry said, breathing heavily. The flames had exposed the bare flesh of his chest and a sharp smell of cooked meat suggested that at least part of him had been burnt. Still, the wound did not hurt as much as Harry thought that it should, and he realised that the link to Ginny was still open and apparently working on physical injuries as well as Voldemort's mental attacks.

Harry winced. He wasn't happy about Ginny being exposed to his pain, but he didn't have a great deal of choice. As it was, he added the pain to the long list of other injuries received that day and wondered exactly what Madam Pomfrey would say to him if he survived to make it back to the hospital wing.

The laugh that resulted from this seemed to perplex Voldemort, who paused in his approach.

"Laughing in the face of death, Potter? Perhaps you are merely insane, rather than courageous."

"Well, I see things, hear strange voices and I've chosen to attack one of the most evil wizards who ever lived," Harry said. "I probably am insane. A bit like you, Tom."

Harry attacked again. He brought his blade in low and Voldemort moved to block it, but at the last second, Harry flicked the sword upwards and it slashed across Voldemort's face. The Dark wizard staggered backwards, one pale, boney hand clutched to the wound. Harry knew that it would only be seconds before the gash was healed, and threw himself forward to press the momentary advantage.

He swung viciously, a hard, heavy overhead swing that was destined to crash into Voldemort's skull-like head. Voldemort managed to block the swing, but Harry kicked out, planting his foot deep into Voldemort's chest and sending the other wizard staggering back. Harry darted forward, keeping minimal distance between them and slashed twice, quickly. One shot bounced off Voldemort's knife, but the other caught the wizard across his shin. He hobbled backwards, but stood upright, his hand coming away from his face and revealing that that wound had healed as quickly as the one to his arm.

"You can't win," he hissed, slipping into Parseltongue. "Give up, Potter."

"You keep saying that," Harry replied. "I'm still here. If I can't win, I'm doing a good job of losing."

Voldemort started to laugh.

"I haven't even begun," he hissed. "You are nothing but a fly, Potter. Annoying and inconsequential. Witness now the power of Lord Voldemort."

The knife disappeared from Voldemort's hand in a puff of steam and for a second Harry was moving forwards. Then Voldemort hissed an incantation and the earth around Harry erupted. He was thrown off his feet, suddenly engulfed in a whirlwind of sand and dirt. He gasped as he felt the grains sand slash across his burnt chest and coughed as his mouth filled with dirt.

Suddenly, the whirlwind died down and Harry could see Voldemort regarding him as Snape regarded a failed student attempt at a Sleeping Draught.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "Try this, Potter."

The earth rose up again, this time in a single column the thickness of a tree trunk. It caught Harry under the chin, sending him sprawling to the ground and nearly rendering him unconscious. Voldemort advanced on his fallen opponent, stopping only as Harry raised his sword and laid the tip against the Dark wizard's stomach.

"And still you keep fighting," Voldemort sneered. "Why, Potter? I can beat you until you die. You are already badly wounded."

Harry took stock of his injuries. He had been cut and beaten by Voldemort, pounded by the impromptu swim in the river, burnt and been placed under the Cruciatus curse. Despite all this, as he looked up at Voldemort, he smiled as much as he was able to. He rather thought that he'd lost a tooth at some point.

"Why do I fight?" he asked. "Do you honestly not know? I'm fighting for my friends, Tom. The people I care about, and who care about me."

"The people who've abandoned you to your death, Potter. How very sad, Potter, dying all alone. At least your parents had each other."

"I'm not alone," Harry said, his grin widening.

"Of course. I forgot," Voldemort said. He turned away from Harry and glided across to the rock that was shielding Ginny. Reaching down, he plucked her effortlessly into the air. Harry's mouth ran dry as he looked at her hanging limply in Voldemort's arms.

Not Ginny, please not Ginny. Oh, don't be dead, please don't be dead.

Even as he thought it, he knew that she was still alive, although apparently unconscious.

"My last gift to you, Potter," Voldemort said, returning to stand over Harry and dropping Ginny beside him. "You may have someone with you when you die. Although you have only lived so long by my mistake, you have proved a mildly diverting opponent. Of course, your death was inevitable, but it has been somewhat intriguing to see how it would come about."

Harry looked up from Ginny who was unconscious but breathing slowly and deeply.

"I'm not dead yet, Tom. And I didn't mean Ginny when I said that I wasn't alone."

"You are alone, Potter. Just yourself, one unconscious girl and Lord Voldemort."

"Not quite, Tom."

Voldemort raised his eyes from Harry's victorious smirk to the raised walkway above them. Staring down at them, removing Invisibility Cloaks and dropping Invisibility Shrouds and Disillusionment Charms, were members of the Order of the Phoenix. They stood over the fallen bodies of Voldemort's Death Eaters who, it seemed, had been defeated without much in the way of resistance or even much noise. Directly in front of Voldemort stood Albus Dumbledore, smiling benignly.

"It took me a long time to realise," Harry said, although Voldemort wasn't really listening. "My greatest strength isn't my magic, or my brains or anything like that. It's that I have people I can turn to, friends and allies, and that gives me a big advantage over you, Tom."

Dumbledore stepped off the walkway and dropped gently to the ground, his wand pointed directly downwards. He approached Harry, Ginny and Voldemort calmly.

"Greetings Tom," he said to Voldemort in a cheery voice. "What has it been, twenty years? I think it's time we put an end to this, don't you?"

*

The executioners didn't even get past the 'A' of 'Avada Kedavra' when there was a pair of dull thuds and they crumpled to the ground. This was swiftly followed by a loud yelling as four bolts of light crashed into the Death Eaters holding Ron and Hermione captive.

Ron looked around in bewilderment and then felt his knees buckle beneath him. Strong hands seized him and Hermione as they toppled forwards and Ron looked around in disbelief.

"Bloody hell," he managed.

"You'll watch your language, Ronald Weasley," Molly Weasley replied.

"Mum? Dad? Bloody hell," he repeated as words failed him.

"I don't think that anything is broken, mother," Percy announced.

Ron looked around in disbelief. Almost the entire Weasley family was there: Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins.

"What..."

"Albus called for our help," Arthur said. "Everyone was at home, so we all came."

"Yeah. Mum shouted when Dad suggested she stay at home," Fred grinned.

"So, is this the sort of thing you get up to usually, Ron?" George asked, throwing an appraising look around the tunnel. "Bright, isn't it?"

"Ron, where's Ginny?" Molly asked.

"In there," Ron said, pointing vaguely down the tunnel. "How..."

"Invisibility shroud," Charlie said. "Dead useful for getting close to dragons. Works well on Death Eaters, too, it seems."

"Dumbledore's been drilling us on methods of concealment for months," Bill said. "How are you feeling Ron?"

"Bits of me... don't actually hurt. Much," Ron said. "How's Hermione?"

"Woozy," Fred replied. "Mum, can you stay and watch them? We should go and see where Ginny's got to.

"I'm coming too," Ron said. "She'll be with Harry and he was going after Voldemort."

Every Weasley winced, but Ron was too distracted to care.

Bill ran up the tunnel and peered through the entrance to the cavern beyond.

"Hey, it's alright. Dumbledore's here."

"Nice one. What's he doing?" Charlie asked.

"Talking," Bill replied.

*

Voldemort looked at Dumbledore for a moment, and then nodded haughtily.

"It is time that it ends, it is true," he said.

Without another word, he was moving away from Dumbledore towards the pool where Moody and Diggle's blood was mixing with the water. The pool was glowing brightly now, and Harry supposed that the ritual was ready for completion.

Dumbledore didn't even flinch, rather he waved his wand and Voldemort ran straight into what seemed to be an invisible shield. He bounced backwards and fell flat on his back, but rose upwards again as quickly as a striking cobra.

He spun around and threw out his arm, a golden bolt of light spraying from his wand towards Harry and Ginny. Dumbledore moved swiftly in front of his two students and caught the spell on the tip of his wand. There was a rumble as the entire cave seemed to shake, and Dumbledore staggered momentarily, but quickly regained his footing.

"You'll stop me taking the power of Morgan Le Fay, Dumbledore?" Voldemort hissed.

"I would stop anyone taking that power, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, although Harry thought he heard a slight tremble in the headmaster's voice. "Harry, please take Miss Weasley and move away from us. Tom and I will settle this now."

Harry climbed to his feet and scooped Ginny's small frame into his arms. He limped backwards, the wound on his leg making him wince with every step he took. But the sight of Dumbledore watching Voldemort carefully, obviously weighing his next move as carefully as Ron did when playing chess, was one that made Harry glad to be putting distance between himself and the fight.

Dumbledore's next move was not one that Harry would have predicted. He glanced up at a tall black man who seemed to be organising the other members of the Order in tying up the captured Death Eaters.

"Kingsley, please make sure everyone leaves here alive," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Of course, Albus," Kingsley replied in a voice as deep as Dumbledore's own.

Dumbledore and Voldemort sized one another up as Kingsley and the Order cast Levitation Charms on the stunned prisoners. As Harry watched, he saw Remus and Sirius moving among the prisoners, binding their wrists and snapping their wands.

Voldemort and Dumbledore continued to size one another up. To Harry, it seemed as though the air between the two powerful wizards was crackling with energy.

Up above, the Order members had each seized a Death Eater, and were marching them out of the chamber through an archway that Harry guessed would lead them back to the surface. Sirius and his prisoner were the last to leave, and Sirius turned to Harry, waving for him to leave Voldemort and Dumbledore to their contest.

Harry looked around, wondering if there was a path that would take him and Ginny up to Sirius, but there was nothing, only some fallen rubble in one corner that might once have been the path upwards.

"Just go out the way you came in, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly.

"I think not," Voldemort said. "The boy can stay and watch, Dumbledore. Certain things need to be seen."

"I will not place an innocent person in danger, Tom."

"It has always been your weakness, old man. Still, I have no such compunction."

Voldemort flung out one skeletal arm, and an orange bolt crackled from his wand, searing across the cavern before hitting the tunnel mouth. A glowing, pulsing field formed across the tunnel mouth. Harry thought that he saw someone moving behind the field, which hissed and sparked threateningly.

Voldemort's lipless mouth twisted into something approximating a smile. "Surrender yourself, Dumbledore, and your death will be quick."

"Thank you, Tom, but no. I would prefer to go on living, and bedevil you wherever and whenever I can. Harry, please stand behind me and I will shield you."

"Shield him? Arrogant old fool!"

Harry, Ginny still lying unconscious in his arms, dived behind Dumbledore as Voldemort brought his wand up once more and triggered several spells in a row, all of them unknown to Harry. Dumbledore barely flinched, instead flicking his wand at each of the spells and deflecting them.

Voldemort began to hiss, and Harry realised that he was speaking in Parseltongue. The hisses seemed to be incantations, and Voldemort grew still as the cavern seemed to darken.

Then, suddenly, Voldemort threw out his wand arm and a giant snake sprang from the tip of the wand. Harry strained his eyes in the suddenly dark room, worried that Voldemort had somehow conjured a Basilisk, but the snake seemed to be insubstantial, made of smoke.

"Stay back, Harry," Dumbledore warned. "This appears to be something new."

"Indeed it is," Voldemort said, staggering backwards slightly. "A very new spell, I've only used it once before, and it has been much refined since then. See if you can work out what it does."

The snake rose up, towering over Dumbledore and Harry. It lunged at the white-haired wizard, coiling itself around him, but Dumbledore didn't seem to be scared.

"Very inventive, Tom," he murmured. "Very inventive indeed. Serpensortia I see, and Delayed Effect, and a large number of other spells. This must have taken you a very long time. No wonder you have been so quiet of late."

"It is not often that perfection is achieved," Tom said. "Now, attack," he hissed.

Dumbledore held the snake in his piercing gaze, staring directly into its glowing, opal eyes, but at Voldemort's hissed command, the snake lunged, clamping its smokey jaw down on Dumbledore's arm before evaporating into a cloud of dust.

Dumbledore's eyes grew wide for a second, and Harry realised that the old wizard now had two neat fang marks on the shoulder of his robes. If he looked closer, Harry assumed, he would be able to see blood pouring from the wounds that were surely beneath the holes.

Voldemort let out a short laugh, and turned to the pool, which was glowing still brighter than before and, Harry realised, was the only source of illumination in the room.

Voldemort glided forward. Harry wanted to do something, but he stood frozen on the spot, unable to think of a single spell that would divert Slytherin's heir from taking the power on offer before him.

Dumbledore seemed to have no such problems. He raised his wand with a barely audible huff of breath. He waved his wand at the pool, and the water began to steam and bubble. By the time Voldemort reached the edge of the pool, there was nothing left.

Le Fay's power was gone. The yearlong quest was ended. Voldemort was defeated.

Harry marveled at how simple the solution had been. He looked from the steaming stone pit to Voldemort, who was as still as if he had been Petrified.

Harry half-expected him to scream, or curse, or make some sign of frustration. Instead, he turned and faced Voldemort coolly.

"So, in the end, it is you and I, Dumbledore."

"It is, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly. Any uneasiness he may have felt from Voldemort's attack did not show on his face. He looked calm and capable, and thoroughly in control of the situation.

There was a crack, and suddenly Professor Skeeter was standing next to Dumbledore.

"I want a shot first," she said, glaring at Voldemort, who seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Maureen Skeeter, Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts," she said calmly.

"Maureen, this is not a good idea," Dumbledore warned her.

"Letting him go after what he did to me is not a good idea," she said. "His Death Eaters destroyed my home. My mother still has nightmares. I'm going to fight him."

"You will lose," Voldemort sneered. "But you are welcome to try."

Skeeter moved before Dumbledore had a chance to react. She charged at Voldemort.

There was a sickening crack as Voldemort swung his wand arm up and met Skeeter's charge with a single spell. She was thrown backwards and crashed to the ground beside Dumbledore in a jerky, broken heap.

"Pathetic," Voldemort said. "But also somewhat satisfying. Is that the best you can do, Dumbledore?"

"No Tom," Dumbledore said, rising from where he had been knelt down, checking on Professor Skeeter. "I doubt that that was even the best that Maureen can do."

Dumbledore drew his wand, a determined look on his face.

"Wait," Voldemort said, holding up one long, pale hand. "You haven't seen my best yet."

So saying, he raised his hands above his head and brought them down sharply. With a harsh laugh, he Disapparated.

There was an ominous rumbling from above.

"Merlin's beard..." Dumbledore muttered. Bending down, he scooped Skeeter gently into his arms.

"Harry, we have to run," he said. "The roof is caving in."

*

Harry and Dumbledore, carrying Ginny and Skeeter, dashed for the tunnel through which Harry and Ginny had entered the cavern. The orange shield that Voldemort has blocked the entrance with was gone, but they were by no means free and clear. The first huge chunk of rock crashed to the ground a few inches behind them as they ran, and another several tons worth of ceiling fell and blocked the entrance as they dashed into the tunnel beyond.

"Quickly now, Harry," Dumbledore said.

They began to run down the tunnel, surprising the Weasleys, who were waiting a short way along. There was no time for words. Harry and Dumbledore ran past with their burdens and the Weasleys, hearing the rumbling, fell in behind them.

*

A few hours later, the Order of the Phoenix congregated on the hill overlooking the small village. There was a hole in the middle of the village now where Bow Manor had, until that morning, stood.

"Heaven only knows what the Muggles will make of that," Arthur was saying.

"Is there any chance they'll get down to Le Fay's chamber?" Bill asked Dumbledore.

"I doubt it. The secret is safe, and quite beyond anyone's reach. Le Fay used powerful magic to maintain the ritual so long. All it needed was the blood of the enemy and then Voldemort could immerse himself in it. He would have had all of Le Fay's power as well as his own."

"Could he have been stopped, sir?" Percy asked.

"After gaining the power?" Dumbledore asked. "Who can say? Certainly it is better that we do not have to find out. As it is, he managed to Apparate through several hundred feet of magically charged earth and stone without any problems, so it appears that his power is sufficient to be troublesome, to say the least."

Harry, who was lying on the hillside, let his attention wander. He didn't want to think about a Voldemort who was more powerful then they had imagined, even if he wasn't as powerful as they might have feared. He wanted to think about something else. There was a small patch of land on the edge of the village that was ringed with a fence but had no house on it. If Harry squinted - he was far too tired, sore and stiff to conjure a telescope - then he could almost make out the outlines of foundations on the land.

My old house, he thought. Sirius had pointed it out to him.

A shadow falling across him interrupted any thoughts this may have lead to. He got up, slowly and stiffly, to greet Ron, who had a guarded expression on his face.

"Ginny's awake. Hermione's looking after her." Ron looked at him, the guarded expression slipping to reveal a rather confused look behind it. "Ginny says you walked in front of a Cruciatus curse for her."

"Well, yeah," Harry said. It wasn't something he could forget very easily. His body was aching all over.

"Why?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at his friend.

What's the point of lying?

"I'm not sure," he said, wincing at the skeptical look on Ron's face. "But I think that it might be for the same reason that you'd have done it for Hermione."

Fatigued as he was, Harry didn't even see the blow coming. He simply went from standing to lying in the space of a second, and had an even more sore jaw to boot.

"Then that's for all the crap you've given her," Ron said, glaring down at him. "Any other answer and there'd be more coming your way as well. Do us all a favour and try and fix it, right?"

Ron stalked away. Harry looked back at where his parents' house had once stood.

Nice to know some things never change.

The End (Almost)