Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 23: Culminations

The first real feeling that impacted Hermione's mind and body was a frigid chill as she drew near to her goal. Flying atop her broom, over the ocean of Northern Scotland and nearing the Ben was one of the coldest feelings she had ever experienced. It was as cutting as a blade, peeling away her skin. While she was smart enough to have brought along her Gryffindor scarf, which she had enchanted second year with a Warming Charm, it was still quite lacking in power to stave off the bitter, bitter chill.

But still, Hermione had been able to fly closer to the Narhassa students, for she was now concealed in the all but faded night. The trip, so far, had taken just shy three hours, and their destination was on the horrizen.

Across the mountain range, standing out pronouncedly against the bleeding sunset was the paramount that Hermione knew to be their destination. Like a lone figure in a desolate street, it stood out from its surroundings, pointing like a jagged spear into the waning light. Simply closing her eyes, she could feel the mountain with all its majesty, as well as the secrets that were lurking beneath it. Waiting.

As Ben Nevis grew in size, it became clear that its summit was not as pointed as she had thought from a distance. The steep top she had seen was actually a statue of some sort, standing well over fifty feet in the air. While she would need to get closer to make out the finer details... it appeared to be a statue of a Griffin, with a fierce lions head and the body of an eagle, its majestic golden wings colored by the hue of the dying sun.

Hermione, forgetting to be freezing, stared at the statue with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. It seemed almost paradoxical to her that the symbol of Gryffindor would be perched upon the tomb of an ancient evil.

The Narhassa students all pulled on their brooms, slowing down, and starting their descent toward the tip of the grand mountain. Hermione, knowing all too well that Voldemort was likely in the area, made her move to descend a bit further down the mountain... out of sight by prying eyes.

She only hoped Harry would be here shortly.

She dismounted her broom upon a small ledge that seemed to neither have a way up or down other than flying. This would be a good spot to stay while waiting for Harry.

Her hopes about Harry were suddenly choked out of her lungs as she felt cold hands grab her from behind. Before she could scream, a hand over her mouth cut off her words.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Fine, Ron," said Harry as he flew parallel with his best friend in the late evening sky. "I screwed up, and I'm sorry."

Ron continued staring ahead as their target destination, for the mountain was not far of and difficult to miss.

"Uh-huh," muttered Ron over the ripping, cold wind.

"Ron!" exclaimed Harry desperately. "Can you just forgive me and accept my apology. You aren't the only one with the right to screw up and apologize for it!"

Ron looked back at Harry morosely. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," began Harry angrily. "That you always ask for forgiveness... me... Hermione... Sean... and we always give it to you! Can you just do me this huge favor and accept my apology, for once? I mean, heck Ron, we are about to confront Redetyor AND Voldemort... and one of us is going to die, according to Trelawney! Can we at least just not have to worry about a tension between us as well?"

At last, Harry finally seemed to make a dent in the stubborn armor that Ron was always protecting him like a blunt shield.

"Fine," said Ron coldly. "Apology accepted."

They continued toward Ben Nevis as the sun winked out over the mountaintops and plunged the mountain range into perpetual darkness.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"It's ok, Hermione," whispered a sharp, but familiar voice. "It's me... calm down."

Hermione's ears told her who she was hearing, but her brain refused to process this information... because there was no way on Earth it was him, on top of Ben Nevis with her. He was back home, in California, under the safeguards of Dumbledore's charms.

But, whether it be a very convincing disguise, or the truth... the person released his hands from her mouth, turned her around, and kissed her before she could even process anything more. Hermione went completely tense, but after a moment, melted in his embrace.

She could tell by the way he kissed her that it was definitely Sean Camaradi.

"Sean!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper, as she broke away from his lips. "What are you..."

Sean put his hand to her mouth again, cutting her off. "Shhh... they are close by. Where's Ron and Harry?"

Hermione now got a chance to view her scenery with more than a passing glance. She was upon a small ledge at dizzying heights. Above her was a steeply sloped, yet very rough rocky face, leading to the summit. There was a small cave upon this ledge, no more than two foot round hole, likely where Sean had been hiding.

"We got separated," whispered Hermione. "Ron got hurt at Hogwarts, but Harry should be here any minute."

Sean nodded slowly at her, glancing around nervously. The ledge itself was no more than twenty feet on all sides, barely more than a large boulder that was grafted precariously to the frame of the mountain.

"It was smart for you to land here," said Sean coyly. "Voldemort has taken up position upon the other side of the mountain... and he has company."

This drew a wince from Hermione. "Dementors?"

Sean nodded. "Over sixty... it's a small army."

Hermione looked at Sean urgently. "How do you know?"

"I've been waiting here since this morning," explained Sean. "I never went home to America... I used my plane ticket money to stay in some cheap inn in London and buy myself a cheap broom from the Quiddich Supply bargain bin to fly up here yesterday. Voldemort and posse Apparated here at noon."

"Anyways," continued Sean, before Hermione could speak. "We need to signal Harry... if he tries to go around the other side of the mountain in hopes of sneaking up on Redetyor, he'll fly smack into Voldemort's arms."

Hermione nodded. "I could try a Lumos, but won't the Narhassa students see it?"

Sean shook his head. "Doubtful... they are all at the top of the mountain, and Voldemort is on the other side. But again, how will Harry know it is us and not Voldemort, or more Narhassa students?"

Hermione conceded the point. "Well, we have to do something."

The small red-haired boy nodded in agreement. "Let me put some of Narhassa's powers to work..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Well," said Ron, his hostility toward Harry fading with the apology. "How do you want to do this?"

"I'm thinking we should fly low, around the mountain, and come up behind the statue of the Griffin," explained Harry. "That's probably what Hermione did."

Ron nodded. "Sound enough for me."

Both boys began to fly low, when suddenly, something caught Harry's eye.

"Hey Ron, look!"

From a ledge, slightly below the summit of Ben Nevis, a gold light shined brightly... which shifted gradually into a red light... and then back to a gold one... and the pattern repeated itself.

"It's Hermione!" exclaimed Harry. "Those are the Gryffindor colors..."

Ron looked to Harry dubiously. "Or it's You-Who-Know, laying the trap for you."

Harry paused for a moment, but shook his head. "No way..."

"What makes you so sure?" inquired Ron dubiously.

"Gut feeling," said Harry, with a shrug. "I don't know... I just think I'd know if it was Voldemort."

Ron grit his teeth and winced painfully in the dark. "Can you at least not call him that..."

"Ron, seriously..." began Harry, looking over at his friend as they slowed their broomsticks down. "What is wrong with you? We are about to face LORD VOLDEMORT in the flesh, and you cannot even call him by his real name!"

Ron sighed, likely realizing that Harry had a very valid point. "Fine... Voldemort... Voldemort... Voldemort..."

Harry looked at Ron. "There, how hard was that?"

The red-haired boy frowned. "Extremely."

Harry groaned and descended toward the flashing red and gold light, causing Ron to splutter with uncertainty, but follow him nonetheless.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Sean!" exclaimed Harry as he dismounted his broom and threw it over his shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

Ron's look was one of pure disbelief while both Hermione and Sean waved at Harry.

"I don't abandon my friends," said Sean with a smirk on his face as he extended his hand to Harry. Harry slapped it and shook it firmly.

"Great to see you here, Sean," said Harry, with a bright smile on his own face.

Sean looked at Harry sincerely. "I wasn't going to let you face this one alone."

Perhaps Sean was psychic, thought Harry as his smile faded someone at the ring to the words. So often had he always thought of himself as alone in these struggles, for regardless of what Ron and Hermione did to help him, it always came down to him alone... without anyone to help him.

After a moment or two, Sean finished conveying the information to Harry concerning Voldemort and Redetyor, through chattering teeth.

"We should fly up now," said Hermione sagely. "They probably have opened Narhassa's lair by now."

Harry nodded shortly, and the four friends mounted their brooms again and kicked off the biting cold ledge. The wind ripped into Harry fiercely, but his adrenaline and warm, enchanted clothing kept him from feeling the worst of it. Sean, if anyone, looked the coldest, for he simply wore his UCLA sweatshirt and long jeans, without much in the way of a jacket, or enchanted robes.

The sight before them seemed to be something out Harry's worst nightmare. All of the Narhassa students were gathered around the statue of the Griffin reverently, waiting quietly for something, like some sort of religious cult. There had to be at least thirty or forty of them, ranging from first years shorter than Sean to full grown seventh year, perhaps even taller than Ron. The odd Narhassa student held his palm to the sky, with a magical fire that burned brightly from his or her fingers, casting ample light to see by.

And in the center of the circle stood Jessica and Seth. Jessica seemed to be keeping an eye out dubiously, a wand in her hand, while Seth held his arms out to a round ball that hovered in the air before him, glowing a dim shade of green.

"The Sorolith," breathed Harry as he descended to the ground and hide behind a large rock upon the summit. Ron, Hermione and Sean followed suite, dropping their brooms in a concealed pile, and huddled near Harry, watching the display.

And suddenly, Harry grit his teeth in anger as he head exploded with pain. He bit down on his lip, hard, to prevent crying out into the night.

"His scar," exclaimed Ron as he grabbed Harry's arm to prevent him from slumping.

"Voldemort..." gasped Harry, as Sean grabbed his other arm. "He... he's so close... so close."

"Ah Potter," chided a voice inside of his head. "I am glad you could make it...wouldn't want to start the big show without you."

Harry gasped deeply, as his two male friends held him up. "Voldemort... he... he's speaking to me

"How does he know we are here?" asked Sean, with a panicked twinge to his voice.

Hermione looked extremely worried. "Voldemort can sense when he is close, just as Harry can sense when he is close."

And then, Harry felt a cold hand within his soul, squeezing at his heart. Apparently, he was not the only one as Sean yelped in agony, loudly into the night. Ron and Hermione's breath also came to them in labored gasps.

Take Harry and run... Lily... cried out the voice of James Potter within his head.

Harry grit his teeth as he drew his wand.

"What... what's happening?" cried Sean, his voice coming to him ever so weakly. "Cody... no... no..."

Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now... demanded the Dark Lord... from fourteen years ago.

"Dementors," Harry thought he said, though he could not hear his own voice. He could feel his head pounding and his breath stabbing his lungs like icy swords, cleaving him from the inside.

"Should we... use the Patronus?" Hermione said as she grabbed the nearby rock for support with one hand and held her forehead with the other, trying to drive the hopelessness out of her own head.

Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead...

"No," Harry heard himself say, over the crying of his parents and the laughter of Lord Voldemort. "It... it will give our position away... wait..."

Sean fell to his knees, gripping his head. "No, please... Cody... stay home... don't go to school today..."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sean moving his hands emphatically... speaking in sign language.

Perhaps he had erred, Harry wondered. There are too many... too many...

Voldemort laughed inside of his head. Avada Kedavra!

Lily's screams shot through Harry like white iron, but he could not summon the Patronus... not yet... if he did, the Narhassa students would swarm him... they needed to get inside first... hurry...

"Hurry..." Harry begged, but before he could see if the Narhassa students were obeying him, Harry fell to the ground. While he was not unconscious, he found himself crippled with hopelessness.

* * * * * * * * * * *

And then, suddenly, his horrific memories shifted before his eyes to something he knew all too well. No longer were they discrete images, or the vague sounds of his parents... they were real. It was happening again...

Where are we?

It was Cedric Diggory speaking inside Harry's mind. Harry closed his eyes, to stem the flow of tears.

Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?

"Make it stop," begged Harry, his voice so soft in his ears. "I give up... no more... please..."

Nope, said Harry's own voice. Is this supposed to be part of the task?

He knew that Ron was kneeling by his side and shaking him, but it was no use... he was back to the night of Voldemort's Resurrection, with Cedric by his side.

I dunno, said Cedric. Wands out d'you reckon?

Yeah... replied Harry.

"Cedric," cried Harry, as depression and angst torched his soul like a roaring fire. "Watch out..."

Someone is coming...

"Run Cedric... please run..." cried Harry as the cold hand of defeat rubbed over his entire body. "Please run... don't let it happen."

Kill the spare...

Avada Kedavra!

Harry stared into Cedric's shocked, confused eyes... completely lifeless and cold orbs that once served as the eyes of one of the most honorable people Harry had ever known.

After tonight... Ron, Sean and Hermione... they will all be staring at me like that... killed by Redetyor or Voldemort...

We are all going to die tonight, realized Harry. And nothing can stop that.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Harry, Harry!" cried Ron, trying to shake his shoulder.

"Run Cedric... please run..." cried Harry, tears flowing down his cheeks.

Ron gave up on Harry for the time being and assessed their situation. Sean was also out, crying out the name Cody for some strange reason. Hermione was holding onto a nearby rock, but otherwise was fighting off the effects of the dementors. As for himself, he could feel the dementors clawing at him, draining the hope out of his bones... yet, he forced himself to know that everything he was feeling now was unnatural.

He needed to see what was going on.

Ron squinted ahead and saw that the dementor's presence was having an effect upon the Narhassa students as well. While none of them had slumped quite yet, they were all turned about in terror.

But where are they? demanded Ron, looking all around him. There was nothing save the empty night.

And then, Ron decided to stop looking behind him, to the side of him and ahead of him... and look up.

The full moon was completely obscured as a black cloud appeared to be descending down upon them. Every dementor Sean had seen from afar was over their heads, floating down like a slow moving ceiling, threatening to crush the hope out of every being beneath them.

And then, Ron noticed one of the Narhassa figures aim a wand at the slow moving ceiling.

It was Jessica.

She flicked her wand twice, with the grace of a fencer. "Expecto Patronum!"

At once, a large, silvery serpent shot forth from her wand, floating into the air with a slithering, but begrudgingly graceful motion. To Ron's awe, the dementors scattered every which way as the serpent approached, its pale white glow casting light upon the twisting and turning wraith-like beings.

And out of the dark, suddenly, called a raspy, cold voice. "Ermetico Patronum!"

The second sight was something that Ron could not believe. Out of the darkness, a large green skull shot into the night sky. At first, Ron thought it was the Dark Mark, but it was missing the serpent aspect. It was a simply enormous skull, crafted out of green swirling smoke.

"Oh no..." cried Hermione, staring at the spectacle, as the green skull began to assault the silver serpent. "Voldemort used an Antipatronus!"

"A what?" blinked Ron, as the creeping dread began to manifest once again.

Hermione looked completely appalled. "I read about it while researching the Patronus... Antipatronus' are created the opposite way. Instead of focusing on the single happiest moment of ones life, one focuses upon the single most depressing, or hateful one. They are specifically geared to attack a Patronus; a Dark Arts counter curse!"

Ron puffed out his cheeks. "Well, Voldemort's got a bunch of hateful moments to choose from... and I don't see Jessica's happy moment outweighing Voldemort's hate. What are we going to do?"

Hermione swallowed nervously and looked down to Harry, who was sobbing and murmuring Cedric's name, and Sean, who was still begging "Cody" not to "leave today."

"There is nothing we can do," said Hermione softly, willing the depression out of her mind. "We need to watch and wait. Once the dementors close in on the Narhassa students, we should get a break... as they start feeding off their joy and hope as well."

Ron sighed and turned back to the spectacle before them.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Hurry up, Seth!" cried Carle, as she cried out again. "Expecto Patronum!"

Redeytor closed his eyes, continuing to focus upon the Sorolith. He could feel the barrier surrounding the statue of the Griffin begin to bend to his will. Once the barrier was gone, the way forward would open up for him.

"What do we do?" cried out a second year English boy.

"It's hopeless!" cried out a fourth year, with a distinctive Scottish accent.

"To hell with that ya'll... let's fuck these things up!" shouted a fifth year American, with a Southern accent.

Thinking that perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea, about twenty lightning bolts shot into the air.

"NO!" shouted Seth... but it was too late.

"Expecto Patronum!" cried out Jessica, her eyes glaring with determination at her serpent. "I cannot hold him off forever!"

The skull bit down hard upon Jessica's serpent, causing her to growl with bestial fury as her knees buckled under the mental stress. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

About three dementors dropped to the ground after the first barrage of lightning... and almost as if something switched on within them, they began gliding with more meaning. Jessica's Patronus was all but faded out of existence due to Voldemort's counter curse.

Every dementor flew to one side; forming the wall that Hermione had seen one time before, by the lake during her third year, next to Harry and Sirius Black. She recognized this as their offensive formation; they were about to use their only weapons.

"Come on you bloody piece of shite!" cried Seth, focusing on the Sorolith.

"Get em!" shouted an Irish voice, as a barrage of lightning and fire shot upon the wall of dementors, falling another three or four, and leaving well over fifty.

The wall of dementors slid smoothly, and at once, the mob of Narhassa students began to push away, in an ever-shrinking circle around the statue.

"Argh!" cried Jessica, as her spell finally faltered. Voldemort's counter curse ate the rest of her Patronus, the skull making a showing of chewing the silvery serpent in its mouth.

"You want some of this?" cried out an American, as bolts of lightning, fire and now even ice, as some students chose to explore other options, began to rip forth from the Narhassa ranks again... this time only falling one dementor, as Voldemort's skull circled the dementors, bolstering their strength.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"We cannot wait any longer!" protested Ron. "They are about to start administering The Kiss!"

Hermione bit her lip with worry, looking down at Harry.

"You are right," said Hermione at last, "We cannot wait... you've never done a Patronus before, right?"

Ron shook his head frantically. "The magic is too high for me..."

Hermione bit her lip with determination. "What are you trying to use as a happy memory?"

Ron swallowed nervously. "I... was trying to use the trip to Egypt, when Fred and George nearly locked Percy in a pyramid."

That drew a groan from Hermione. "Come on, happier than that!"

Ron closed his eyes, searching desperately. "I... don't really have all that many happy memories, Hermione."

Before Ron could even register the action, Hermione grabbed him close and kissed passionately.

It was nothing like Ron thought it would be like. He had always pictured his first kiss with Hermione to be in a romantic setting, with a slow and heartfelt motion of his lips... nothing so firm and desperate. Nevertheless, he did not want this moment to end. He felt himself loose track of his present situation as he held Hermione close, his mind drowning in the passion of kissing the girl he loved.

Bar none, it was the greatest moment of his life.

And just as quickly, she withdrew, seemingly too panicked to have enjoyed it as much as Ron.

"Now you do!"

Ron's eyes widened... his face was ghostly pale, but he could not help but feel completely elated.

"I... I feel so cheap," he jested, despite the situation.

Hermione grabbed his hand and held out her wand. "On three..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"AHHH!" cried out an American third year as about six Narhassa students, in addition, were grabbed by the dementors, and thrown into the air to the dementors behind them. The creatures that caught the terrified teenagers quickly unmasked... revealing their faces, nothing more than a lipless hole for a mouth.

"Seth!" cried Carle, in a panic. "Open this door, now!"

And then, without preamble, the entire sky seemed to light up with bright white energy. The six Narhassa students who were grabbed, four girls and two boys of young age, were dropped to the ground as two silver images broke through the dementor wall... one was a bird who ripped through the dementors with a two foot long beak, and the second was a lion, that mauled about six of the shadowy creatures with a stroke of its paw.

"Almost got it..." continued Seth, as he focused hard upon the Sorolith.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry's eyes fluttered as the hopelessness faded from his body. He looked up to see Ron and Hermione standing over him, their hands interlocked tightly, each of them holding out their wands with determined glares in their eyes. Sean, also recovering from the effects, was standing up.

Forcing himself to his feet, Harry saw Ron and Hermione's Patronuses tearing through the lines of dementors like paper, scattering the horrid creatures. Wasting no time, Harry grabbed onto Hermione's wand arm with his left hand... to show that he was indeed here, by her side.

"Welcome back, Harry," said Hermione softly, though she did not look at him as she was too busy concentrating upon her Patronus.

He aimed his wand in the direction of the fray and began the incantation. For his memory, he decided to choose the one most clearest in his mind... right here, right now... standing next to his three best friends in the world, and saving the lives of dozens of boys and girls their age.

"Expecto Patronum!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Looks like we have some angels on our shoulders," muttered Seth with disdain as a great white stag joined the lion and the raven, throwing about the dementors like rabble. The skull in the air suddenly dissipated... likely as a result of Voldemort canceling his spell, realizing he could not fight off three other Patronuses.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I think we owe Potter and friends one."

Jessica looked back at him slyly. "I told you, I have great taste in guys."

"The way is open," said Redetyor, as at last, the barrier around the Griffin fizzled into nothingness. The Griffin, now free to animate, bowed its stony head to Seth, and took three steps to the side, revealing a stairwell leading down. "Lead them down, and make the preparations. I will be late."

Jessica nodded and turned to the rest of the crew.

"Move your arses," she shouted darkly, "Into the lair!"

With that, the Narhassa students began an unorganized descent down the stairs... with the exception of Seth. With a determined glare in his eyes, he drew a jeweled dagger from his robe sleeve.

"I have a score to settle..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Oh no!" cried Ron, "They are heading down into Narhassa's Lair!"

Harry held Ron back from charging after.

"Don't worry," said Sean, managing to stay calm. "They still have to dominate Narhassa... from what Alex told me, that will be a long fight."

"What now?" asked Ron, breathing deeply.

Hermione suddenly rasped, grabbing her throat, her eyes budging with terror.

"Hermione!" gasped Harry. "What's wrong?"

She continued hacking, unable to say a single word, drawing the eyes of each of the boys.

"Voldemort!" cried Sean, as he turned around, and suddenly backed into Ron.

"I have an idea," hissed a voice, as cold as death. Ahead of him, his wand was stretched, and glowing a strange shade of orange. "All of you drop your wands... or we will see how long your girlfriend can hold her breath."

It was not just Voldemort, however. Three other figures approached as well, their wands drawn and taking up their flanks. One, a very short and fat man with a cowl over his face and a gleaming silver arm, was without a doubt Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail.

And Draco, who hid behind no cowl, with the pale moonlight gleaming off his stony countenance, held his wand level at Ron. He looked at Hermione, with fear in his eyes.

If Draco was here, there was no doubt who the final figure was, even with his cowl low about his face.

Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort drawing a sneer from the dark wizard. In a display of force, Voldemort raised his wand. Hermione's feet left the ground, floating into the air in syncopation with the wand. She continued grabbing at her neck, choking to death.

"Let her go, Voldemort... or I'll cast you back to where you belong!" shouted Sean, taking up Harry's flank fearlessly. Harry could see lightning leaping from Sean's fingertips with unbridled fury.

Voldemort calmly dragged Hermione off the side of the mountain, his wand being the only thing holding her up as she hovered in the air.

"You have a choice, Potter... and is it Camaradi?" said Voldemort with such hatred that Harry's eyes began watering; his scar was on fire. "Either drop your wand or... I will cancel the spell upon your little friend here. It is about a four thousand foot drop... I don't think her book smarts will avail her this time."

Harry, having no choice, tossed his wand aside. It landed upon the ground with a clatter. Ron, also, threw his wand away.

"Let her go!"

Voldemort laughed out loud, crudely and mercilessly. "Good. No reason to drag this out any longer... you are so much like your father, Potter... so afraid to cut your losses."

It was a surprise to Harry to hear the voice of the person who spoke next.

"Master," said Draco coldly. "Killing Potter is enough... why waste precious spells upon the Mudblood? Just let her cower in fear, like the rest of her pitiful kind."

Voldemort turned a weary eye toward Draco. "What?"

Draco glared at the nearly unconscious form of Hermione. Harry could see traces of concern within Draco's usually cold eyes. "Her death does not serve any purpose."

Harry could hardly believe his ears... Draco Malfoy was trying to save the life of Hermione.

Voldemort licked his lips and his face brightened with realization. "Oh... I see. You fancy her."

Draco lowered his head, not speaking.

"Tell you what, Draco," said Voldemort, in a painfully bitter tone. "You can use my owl to send flowers to her funeral..."

Before Draco could lift his eyes from his feet, Hermione screamed. Voldemort had released his spell and now pointed his wand at Harry. Harry felt a pain on par with a sword stabbing through his chest as he watched Hermione fall out of sight. In sheer panic, Harry considered diving off the mountain after her... in case there was a chance he could learn to fly on the way down.

"HERMIONE!" screamed four boys... but Harry and Ron were totally helpless to do anything without their wands. Draco became stunned with icy realization, as his wand dropped from his hand and he turned away, unable to watch. He looked nothing more than the first year boy in the Forbidden Forest when Harry and him had encountered Voldemort for the first time.

But, there was one person who was not helpless...

It was blind luck that Voldemort had taken his eyes off of Sean as he turned to deliver a vicious backhand to Draco, sending the fifteen-year-old Malfoy to the ground.

"Question the way I act again... and..."

Voldemort was distracted thankfully, as Sean sprinted to the side of the

mountain, his hand outstretched and glowing a brilliant shade of gold. It was clear to Harry that he was using some of his Narhassa power. Ron, Harry, Voldemort, Wormtail, Draco and Lucius all stared at Sean with pure confusion. Before they could train their wands on him, however, he took a nosedive off the summit of Ben Nevis.

Harry's Firebolt, which seemed to have animated itself, perhaps as a result of Sean's glowing hand, toppled through the air and zipped after him.

Voldemort turned back to Harry, with his fierce, murderous glare.

"No matter... No Narhassa wizard will be able to save you."

Draco looked up from the ground at Harry and Voldemort with defeat, as if only now, the horrible truth behind being a dark wizard was hitting him...

But Draco did not act. No one acted... save Voldemort.

Harry would not die this way. Once again, he was cowering behind the tombstone, rocking back and forth, praying for the end to be quick. He was again staring into Cedric's lifeless eyes, praying for a response. Now, he knew what his father felt like that night Voldemort had attacked him... hopelessly doomed, but fighting valiantly to the end.

Doing the only thing that made sense, Harry screamed what he knew to be his last sound and charged Lord Voldemort, raising his fists.

But before he had closed the ten feet that separated them... Voldemort had ample time to say two words; the only two words he'd ever need to say to end Harry's life.

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Sean tumbled through the air, struggling to focus on the Firebolt that was trailing his simple use of Narhassa powers. He dared not linger near the side of the mountain for the Firebolt to fly directly into his hands, for to do so would have given his enemies a chance to hit him with spells.

Flipping himself around, he glared up at the night sky, beckoning the trailing broomstick into his hands. From below him, he could hear Hermione's terrified screams as she descended closer and closer to the ground.

He closed his eyes and focused upon his gifts, forcing the broom closer and closer to him. Using his Narhassa given powers, he could sense the broom approaching his hands.

Come on... come on...

Finally, he reached out above him, grasping hold of polished wood. Wasting no time, he fit the broom between his legs and grasped the handle. Control returned to him as he shot down like a shooting star, in the direction of Hermione's screams.

Breathing labouredly, Sean felt the wind ripping against his face. Unknown to him, he was experiencing the same feeling that Harry had when he had battled the Hungarian Horntail during the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. No longer was he flying after Hermione... he was a Chaser, zooming after the Quaffle and working his way to the goal.

His speed having doubled from the combined efforts of gravity and the Firebolt, it was only a matter of seconds before Hermione came into view, twisting and turning in utter panic.

Sean pulled up on his broom, aiming to loop directly underneath Hermione. Leaning forward, he closed the distance with one final push. Sean rushed passed Hermione, and as he passed within arms reach, he grabbed one of her flailing legs.

Spun around by Sean's grab, Hermione clasped Sean tightly, squeezing him with a painful amount of force. Sean pulled up slowly, urging Harry's Firebolt to stop its downward motion. Though heavy with the weight of two, Harry's fine broom obeyed readily, and soon, they were floating in mid-air, neither moving up or down.

Hermione buried her head into Sean's shoulder, sobbing with terror.

"Oh thank you... thank you..." she bawled, clutching him even tighter than before and burying her face into his shoulder.

Sean grabbed hold of Hermione, tightening his legs to maintain his balance. He kissed Hermione's cheek quickly and fiercely, and then held her tight.

"Don't worry, 'mione..." he said firmly, stroking the back of her head as the tension drained out of his body. "Nothing is going to hurt you... not on my watch."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry had heard that the last seconds one ones life tended to last forever. Harry closed his eyes and he flung himself at Voldemort... the last thing he saw was a green light blossoming from the end of the Dark Lord's wand.

To Harry's joy, only happy memories flooded into his head. He remembered his first train ride to Hogwarts, where he met the first two people he cared more about than his life itself.

Ron and Hermione.

Ever since his earliest memories of a good life outside of 4 Privet Drive, Ron and Hermione had been a part of them.

Harry turned to his left and saw the look of join on Ron's freckled face as Albus Dumbledore rewarded fifty points to him in their first year. Perhaps hindsight was strange to Harry, but he saw Ron no differently than he had just a moment ago, despite four years of age difference. Harry looked across the table, and saw Hermione, looking the same as well. The changes in each other were so subtle that they had gone unnoticed to Harry, even in his flashbacks, as they had spent so much time together.

He could die happy... for he knew that he was loved.

* * * * * * * * * * *

(I could be really mean and end the chapter, here... but... golly, I'm not REALLY on Voldemort's A list... I just say I am)

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry plowed into Lord Voldemort, who was crying out loud in pain, even before Harry had actually made contact. The two beings went down in a mixed heap of boy and skeletal form. It was then that Harry noticed that Voldemort did not have his wand in his hand... in fact, he had dropped it before Harry had made contact.

Unable to fathom what could have possibly saved him from the impending spell, Harry stared down at Voldemort, who was pinned beneath him.

I do not know what the hell is going on, thought Harry, but I'll take it!

Harry drove his fist into Voldemort's pale, skeletal face. He had to confess... it didn't seem like the Dark Lord Voldemort would be greatly harmed by a punch to the face, but Harry had not really made much of a plan up to this point.

Voldemort screamed a wretched cry of angst, sounding less like a man and more like a dying beast.

In a total stupor, Harry looked at his fist in confusion. "Huh?"

"How does it feel, Voldemort?" cried an anguished voice from behind Harry... and that voice did not belong to Ron.

Before he could continue his attack on Voldemort, however, Lucius and Wormtail, who apparently forgot they were wizards under the duress of the situation, pulled Harry off of Voldemort forcefully.

It was Seth Redetyor who drew everyone's attention. Harry gasped with shock as he saw a dagger sticking out of Seth's own arm. In that same arm, clutched between bleeding fingers, was the Sorolith.

During this distraction, Ron wasted no time in trying to gather Harry and his wands... only to be deterred by a blast of lightning from Seth Redetyor, striking him firmly in the chest and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"No you don't, Weasley," hissed Seth, in between gasps of pain. "No one moves... NO ONE!"

Seth withdrew the dagger from his own arm, in a fury, and stabbed himself again, crying out in pain.

Voldemort reciprocated his action, wreathing in agony. Harry shook off the appalled Lucius and Wormtail and glanced down at his hands. Voldemort's arm was gushing with black ichor and the same substance covered Harry's palms.

Seth drew the dagger from his arm a third time and held it up to his own neck. Had the situation been any different, Harry might have thought this somewhat comical.

"You three," sneered Seth, as he rested the knife against his own throat and looked to the stunned and appalled Draco, Lucius and Wormtail. "Drop your wands... or I'll kill your master."

Harry watched as the two Deatheaters turned to the Dark Lord.

So this was Seth Redetyor's trump card, thought Harry. This is what made him completely fearless, and even hopeful that Voldemort would be up here, planning his ambush. He must have strengthened his bond with Voldemort using the Sorolith... so that he was no longer just a one-way simulacrum. He could now deliver pain to Voldemort, rather than just take it.

Ingenious... if not rather desperate... There was no doubt to Harry that every bit of pain Voldemort felt, Seth likely felt it just as keenly.

"Do it!" hissed Voldemort, cradling his wand arm.

Lucius and Wormtail both dropped their wands to the ground. Draco, however, held his arm steady.

"Drop the wand, Draco," said Lucius shortly.

Draco clearly wanted to do anything other than that, but he obeyed his father, and dropped the wand to the ground.

Seth outstretched his bloody arm, using the same power Sean had used to summon Harry's broomstick, and all four wands tumbled through the air toward Seth, who caught each on in his weak hand.

"It seems..." panted Seth (it was clear to Harry he was loosing a lot of blood) "... life is not without a sense of irony." Seth looked to Harry. "I give you the chance you've always wanted, Potter.

Harry stared at Redetyor intensely.

"When I am gone, pick up your wand... and do as you please to the one who slaughtered your parents."

Redetyor continued to skulk toward the staircase descending down into Narhassa's Lair, as pale as a ghost.

"Consider it your reward... for saving us from the Dementors," coughed Seth, his very pale face lined with victory as a trail of blood followed him. "Once the powers of Narhassa flow through my veins, I will have the power to sever my connection with our Dark Lord here. If you kill him, the world will never utter the name Voldemort with fear again."

Voldemort's form trembled with tension, anger and frustration as he stared from Harry to Redetyor. Even Harry, despite Voldemort's snake-like appearance, could read the fear on his face.

"Once his bond with me is gone..." trailed off Seth as he began descending down the stairs. "... I think he'll be out of tricks."

Before fading from view completely, however, Redetyor fixed Harry with an intense stare.

"So long as you stay above these stairs... you may live. Start down these steps and try to stop the inevitable, and all your actions tonight will be for naught... for the Boy Who Lived will die by my hands."

Harry swallowed, struggling for a breath of air. The tension hung in the cold night like a pillow over his face.

"That is all, Potter," said Seth, vanishing out of sight down the stairs. "Happy hunting."

Without a word, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived; survivor of three Killing Curse attempts, picked up his wand and approached the murderer of his parents, and his followers: every person who was responsible for the way his life turned out.

Lucius, Draco, Wormtail... and Voldemort.

Ron was not sure if he wanted to watch or not as he rose from the ground unsteadily, recovering from his shock of lightning.