Harry Potter and the Remnants of the Soul

Ginny and Ron stuck their heads and wands above the table. Taking aim, they each cast the Body Bind Curse. In his rush to follow immediately behind them, Harry missed the sheer look of terror on both of their faces as they ducked back behind the table.

When Harry took his turn to shout, "Petrificus Totalus," he froze. He had aimed at the nearest black robe without looking to see whom he was stunning. When his spell was easily batted aside, he searched for the face. It was Voldemort.

Chapter Five: The Battle of the Burrow

Harry slumped to the ground in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not here, not now.

"Is that...?" whispered Hermione.

"Yes."

Ron paled. "Bloody Hell!"

"Yeah," agreed Ginny, fervently nodding her head.

Harry's breathing became shallow, and his heart raced. With a quavering voice, he said, "We can't give up now! Your Dad and Moony are out in the open... Leave Riddle to me."

Ron gave Harry a look that said everything. "Good luck, mate," he muttered thickly. He clapped Harry hard on the shoulder, gritting his teeth, and fired off another Body Bind Curse over the edge of the table.

Hermione hugged Harry and whispered, "We love you. You know that, right?"

"I do."

As Harry began peppering Voldemort with hexes, a despairing wail drowned out the chorus of battlefield shouts. Molly was cradling Bill's head in her lap; tears streamed down her face. The curse breaker's shirt was open, and the cut that ran across his chest had just stopped bleeding.

---888---

Remus and Arthur were sprinting towards the Burrow when Molly's shrill cries reached their ears. Stumbling, Arthur turned towards the noise.

"Arthur, come on!" howled Remus. "We can't stop." The werewolf tried to drag his friend along, but Arthur shook himself free.

Arthur pleaded, "You go on," before turning towards a group of pursuing Death Eaters. The father of seven straightened his back, bringing his wand to bear on the attackers. Dark blue curses pulsed outward, catching a Death Eater just above the knee. The robed man, weedy and slight, stumbled to the ground, his body convulsing for several seconds before it stilled.

"Remus, go!" Arthur bellowed. "I'll hold them off!" He cast another dark blue spell, severely wounding a pudgy Death Eater.

Remus dashed toward the Burrow. He knew that sending for help was their only hope of surviving the attack. Three meters from the threshold, Remus directed a Blasting Curse at the door. The flimsy wood plank tore off its hinges, soaring into the living room where it knocked a laundry basket off the table. The basket, and the Weasley family clock resting inside of it, fell to the ground. The clock shattered; all nine hands pointed to mortal peril.

In the dark confines of the Burrow, Remus desperately lit a fire in the hearth. Flinging Floo powder onto the flames, he yelled, "Aurors' Headquarters." His head spun around for an eternity before a man, wearing scarlet robes, came into view.

The man's long ponytail flipped over his shoulder as he jerked his feet down from their perch on the desk. "Auror Williamson here, how can I help you?"

"Death Eaters," Remus rasped, out of breath from his sprint across the garden. He tried to say that he was at 'the Burrow,' but instead he said, "I'm at the Weasley home."

"Pardon?"

"Death Eaters, the Weasley home... you know, Arthur Weasley."

"Oh, Weasley! As in the Minister's assistant?"

"Yes! Hurry!"

"We'll come as fast as we can, but we've already got two teams out right now. They attacked the Lovegoods and the Longbottoms."

"The Lovegoods are close!" exclaimed Remus.

When Williamson left the room to search for his colleagues, Remus yanked his head from the fire and rushed to the window.

From the tree line behind Arthur, a short Death Eater shouted, "Reducto!" The ground erupted near Arthur's feet, throwing him several meters before he collapsed with a sickening crunch.

Remus frantically scrambled toward the doorway. He saw Arthur struggling to stand, but it was obvious that he had shattered a bone in his leg. Arthur collapsed back to the ground and started firing the same dark blue curse at the short Death Eater.

From the other direction, three more Death Eaters scaled the garden wall and closed in on Arthur's position. Emerging from the Burrow, Remus intercepted them before they reached Arthur. Hastily taking aim, Remus sent half a dozen Blasting Curses at the men. Two fell to the ground, but the third took cover behind a tree.

Turning his attention back to his wounded friend, Remus rushed towards Arthur, who shot another dark blue curse at the short man. As the spell careened toward the Death Eater, he seemingly disappeared. Instead of a man, a dirty rat with a silver paw scampered away.

"Peter!" bellowed Remus. He sprinted after the rat, bloodlust quickening his pace. The rat darted towards an empty gnome hole, but the werewolf was gaining quickly. Just as Remus dove for the rat, a dark orange curse blindsided him, halting the pursuit.

The spell, which narrowly missed Remus' neck, glanced off his chest instead. Flung backwards by the force of the curse, Remus landed gracelessly on his backside. Blood poured from the gash that had been opened by the Slashing Curse. Looking upwards, Remus confronted his pursuer: a large man wearing black robes that were stretched taunt across his chest. The Death Eater's mask was slightly askew, revealing grey hair. Remus did not have to see the man's face to identify his attacker. It was the face that had haunted his nightmares since he was a small child.

Fenrir Greyback held his yew wand tightly; long yellow nails dug into the dark wood. Remus froze in fear as Greyback's lips formed the word, "Avada - "

From behind, a dark orange Severing Curse struck Greyback in the neck. He fell to the ground, quivering and convulsing in time with his beating heart. Remus gaped in relief and satisfaction as the man, who had turned so many innocent children into werewolves, was made eligible to join the Headless Hunt.

Remus gasped, exhaling torturously. The gash across his chest made breathing an intricate balance of pain and relief. The Marauder now owed a Life Debt to the balding red head, and he swore that Arthur would make it through this ordeal alive. Remus struggled to his feet, intent on leading his friend into the house. But, as Remus gingerly stood, he was bowled over again; Wormtail's silver hand was clamped tightly around his neck.

---888---

Harry was becoming increasingly frustrated in his attempts to keep the Death Eaters at bay. It seemed like every time he stunned one, Voldemort would simply revive his servant. And, of course, aiming for Voldemort did nothing but waste a perfectly good opportunity to stun a Death Eater. Surrendering to his frustration, Harry rested for just a moment.

In the blink of an eye, Luna led half a dozen Death Eaters straight past Harry's position. Suddenly, those taking shelter behind the picnic tables were faced with enemies on both sides.

Harry snapped to attention, cursing himself for his momentary lapse in concentration. Angrily, he fired off a Stunning Spell at the group. The pink spell dissipated well short of the nearest Death Eater.

With a start, Harry realized they were descending upon Remus and Arthur. Wormtail was strangling Remus with his silver hand! "Remus!" Harry cried out in disbelieving horror. His shout drew Tonks' attention to the struggle.

"Harry, I've got to help him!" Tonks pleaded, as she sprinted towards the garden wall, taking a circuitous, but well concealed, route to the man she loved.

"Tonks, wait!" Harry yelled to no avail. Arthur Weasley was already bringing his wand to bear on Pettigrew. "Mr. Weasley's got it."

But Arthur never uttered a syllable. Instead, Luna's ethereal voice cackled in triumph, "Avada Kedavra!" The pale green curse of death arced towards Arthur like a scythe. It lashed him across the back, and he collapsed, face down, in the dust.

Harry blanched in disbelief. His fingers went numb and his wand slipped from between them. A great silent sob caught in his windpipe, and he had to pound on his chest to force it back down into his stomach.

Upon seeing her husband's death, Molly apparently lost the slim grip she kept on her self-control. Wailing in denial, she fled from the cover of the tables, across open ground, to her dead spouse. Curses flew after her from a dozen sources, but miraculously she reached Arthur. Kneeling beside him, she softly kissed him on the forehead, her tears falling to his cheek.

Harry's intestines boiled in anger as the reality of Arthur's death registered. Grief abated as anger battled betrayal for dominance of Harry's emotions. The desire for vengeance was so great that he did not feel an oily presence slip into his mind. He would make Luna pay for her treachery.

Wand, in newly determined fingers, Harry crept from the cover of the picnic tables, his eyes tracking Luna's every move. His vision tunneled as if he had donned a pair of blinders, oblivious to the figures darting all around him. But, the world exploded in a cacophony of sound and light as a familiar voice broke his concentration.

"Avada Kedavra!" Antonin Dolohov cried out with a slight French accent. "Go and join your brothers, you blood traitor bitch."

Harry watched helplessly as the sickly green light reached it target, joining Molly and Arthur in eternal rest.

"Mum!" Ginny cried out. She started to run towards Molly's slumped figure.

Grabbing her by her shoulders, Ron yelled, "No! You'll get killed running out there like that. We've got to stick together."

Harry, however, did not hear a word of what Ron said. First Bill, then Arthur, and now Molly had been murdered. The rage inside of him blossomed anew. Revenge would be so sweet. He did not recognize the pain that was throbbing in his lightning bolt shaped scar, nor did he discern the slight cooling effects of a gentle breeze.

Crouching down and creeping forward several meters, Harry was within striking distance of his nearest target. "Diffindo!" Harry shouted, his wand pointed at Antonin Dolohov. Harry's aim was true, and the curse opened a gash that split Dolohov open from his left thigh to his right underarm.

In a panic, Dolohov tried to heal himself, but his spell could not force the wound closed. He was bleeding profusely and quickly fell unconscious to the ground. He would die minutes later when his heart could no longer supply oxygen to his brain. Harry did not register the fact that he had just killed a man. His mind, which felt much clearer after casting the Severing Curse, was bent on revenge.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Tonks approaching the two Marauders. However, while she was still over a dozen meters from Remus, Wormtail stood. The werewolf had stopped convulsing and was lying motionless on the ground.

A voice in Harry's head told him that the werewolf was dead. Anger, resentment, bitterness, and hate dominated Harry's emotions. Peter Pettigrew was single-handedly responsible for taking everything he loved. His parents' deaths were attributable to the rat. The rat had denied him the chance to live with Sirius. The rat had brought back Voldemort. The rat had just killed Moony. The rat would pay!

The rat, in his human form, was slinking away from Remus, right towards Harry. His anger took hold of him; it was the perfect opportunity. "Reducto!"

The tree between Harry and Wormtail exploded into foot-long splinters, several of which impaled Wormtail, pinning him to the ground. The rat tried reverting to his animal form, but he succeeded only in forming a tail before he died.

Hermione gasped. She had just watched Harry end the lives of two people. "Harry!" she cried. He turned to face her, and she was horrified to see red light peering out from behind his pupils. "Harry stop!" she cried out again, before being jerked backwards by Ron.

"Hermione, get down! You're standing right out in the open," Ron said. "Mate, get over here before they pick you off."

"We've got to get away from here," Harry wheezed in a strained voice. "They're closing in." Desperately, he shook his head as if he were trying to dislodge a monster from his back. After a moment, he peered back up at his friends, emerald orbs alert.

"We have to do more," begged Harry. "He's just releasing them. We've got to do some permanent damage."

"You're right," said Ron in a tone that did not invite argument.

Ginny asked, "Which way should we go?"

"Not towards the house," said Ron. "There's too many of 'em that way."

"What about going south and looping around the pond?" suggested Harry.

"Um, he's on that side." Ron's face paled at the mere thought of trying to sneak past Voldemort.

"Let's go after Tonks," Harry decided. "We'll meet up with her and get out of here. Can she make a Portkey?"

Ron shot down that idea. "The Ministry put up anti-apparation and Portkey barriers last summer. The boot is the only one that can get through. It's supposed to be the emergency escape route."

Hermione whipped her head towards Ron. "Let's summon it and get out of here."

Ginny was the first one to cry out, "Accio Boot," but nothing came.

"They would have destroyed it," Harry said glumly.

"Burn the ships," Hermione agreed. "There's no way for them to leave otherwise."

"Effective motivation," Ron observed wryly.

Impatiently, Harry urged, "Come on, let's go find Tonks."

---888---

Tonks was angry with herself. She had violated her training procedures and gone out on a fool's mission to rescue Remus. Wiping away the last vestiges of her persistent tears, she found herself alone and surrounded by dark servants. Thinking quickly, she chose to play to her strengths: disguise and concealment.

From her shelter behind a gnarled tree, she saw a petite Death Eater creeping toward her position. Tonks waited patiently until her target could be hit with a Stunning Spell. When she was successful, Tonks crawled out from behind the tree.

"Aunt Narcissa!" Tonks cried out in surprise, while removing the Death Eater's mask and robe. After a moment of studying Narcissa Malfoy's features, Tonks screwed up her eyes in concentration and morphed her own facial features to resemble her aunt's. Tonks then donned the black robe and mask before setting out to find the teenagers.

---888---

Harry was back to back with Hermione, and Ron was paired with Ginny. "Ready?"

"Ready."

"Let's go."

The four dashed from the picnic tables toward the garden wall. Not five steps from their cover, Luna spotted them and aimed a tripping jinx at the group.

Ginny stumbled, taking one wobbly step, another, and then pitching forward. Instinctively, she thrust out her arms to break her fall. However, she was still clutching her wand and it snapped in two as she landed. Hermione and Harry incanted Blasting Curses at their pursuers, while Ron reached down to give Ginny a hand up; but it was too late.

"Avada Kedavra!" drawled a hooded Death Eater. Harry recognized the voice. Its owner, Lucius Malfoy, had destroyed Ginny's life once again.

For Harry, anger and pain took center stage. The dull throbbing in his scar graduated into waves of blinding pain. A stiff breeze began blowing across the Burrow's garden, and the air was pregnant with magic. The sky darkened suddenly and lightning appeared out of a cloudless sky.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted. "Let's go, we can't do anything about it now." She grabbed him by the arm and started pulling.

Harry could not tear his eyes away from Ginny. She lay face down, red hair splayed about her head like a halo of fire. It required every ounce of his self-control to turn away from the horrible image; but Harry managed it through sheer force of will.

He spotted Voldemort near a tree, his wand trained on a woman who was not wearing a Death Eater's robe. "Tonks!" Harry cried as Voldemort soundlessly cast a spell. However, the expected green light did not emerge from his wand. Instead, the woman began to stir. It was Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione was finally successful in capturing Harry's attention. "Come on, Harry. We've got to go."

Reluctantly, Harry dashed after Hermione and Ron. Shortly, the trio reached the garden wall. It was, perhaps, two meters high; it was taller than Harry and Hermione, but several centimeters shorter than Ron.

"There's no one on the pitch!" exclaimed Ron. "We can escape over the wall!"

"You up first," said Harry. "I'll help Hermione."

"Hurry!" begged Hermione; two Death Eaters were hot on their heels.

"Move it, Ron!" With a mighty shove, Harry helped Ron climb atop the wall. Balancing precariously, Ron desperately grabbed for Hermione's outstretched hand.

"Come on, Hermione, you can do it!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" a high-pitched voice called out behind them.

Harry, facing the wall, was gripped with fear. He expected to be frozen solid any moment now. Grabbing Hermione around the waist, he lifted her up over his head and nearly threw her on top of the wall. Pure adrenaline was pumping through his veins.

Behind him, Harry heard a thump as Ron and Hermione hoisted him atop the garden wall. No sooner had the three jumped down on the other side, then a pale green curse flew through the space Ron had just occupied.

Pausing briefly at the base of the wall, Harry quickly scanned the Weasleys' paddock. There were no Death Eaters on the make-shift Quidditch pitch. A stand of trees would serve as cover if the trio could make it across the field.

"Did you see that?" Ron asked.

"What?" Hermione was breathing hard from the sprint across the garden.

"That Death Eater stunned one of her own."

"It wasn't a Death Eater," Harry replied, also out of breath. "It must've been Tonks. I think she knocked out the Ferret's Mum and took her garb."

"We've got to get her!" Ron exclaimed. "They'll kill her if they can."

"We can't go back," Hermione argued. "It was a stupid risk to climb the wall. We'll be sitting ducks."

From the other side of the wall, shouts drew nearer. "Potter has scaled the wall," sneered a Death Eater.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry shared a knowing look: Snape.

"We can't wait for Tonks now," Harry said. "Let's get across the pitch to the woods before they climb over the wall."

The three leapt to their feet. Hermione was still breathing heavily.

"You gonna make it, Hermione?" Ron asked.

She punched him in the arm and followed after Harry, who started jogging at a pace that he knew Hermione could match. Halfway across the paddock, she exclaimed, "Quidditch! Summon the brooms from the shed."

Harry and Ron stopped and looked at each other with looks of dumb incredulity. "Hermione, you're brilliant!" exclaimed Ron. "Accio Cleansweep."

Harry summoned his broom as well. He could see his Firebolt as it flew toward him, but before he could say anything, Hermione shoved him to the ground.

"Harry! Watch out!"

From nowhere, a sizzling bolt of yellow magic flashed by his ear.

"Run!" Harry shouted, only to watch as Ron fell to ground, stiff as a board.

"Where are they?" Hermione panicked. "I can't see anyone."

"Help me with Ron," urged Harry, as a purple spell just missed him.

"Finite." Hermione reversed the body bind on Ron while narrowly dodging another spell.

"We've got to get outta here! Now!" Harry yelled.

Harry and Hermione turned towards the far side of the paddock. Harry had a hand on Ron's collar and was dragging him along as the lanky red head tried desperately to regain his balance.

Hermione had not taken two steps when she looked up and saw Neville. He was mounted on Ron's Cleansweep, floating several meters ahead of them, his feet barely off the ground. "Avada Kedavra!" Neville screamed with a fury and hatred on his face that Harry would never witness again.

Hermione had time to dive out of the path of the oncoming Killing Curse. Instead, she tried to conjure a stone the size of a Quaffle.

Harry lunged for her, hoping to knock his friend out of the way, but his momentum was headed in the wrong direction. The green curse connected with Hermione's right shoulder milliseconds before Harry's weight hit her. His best friend died in his arms as the two fell to the ground.

Ron was behind Harry and witnessed the horrific turn of events. He stood frozen for a moment as his mind processed the lump of bodies lying motionless on the ground. "Hermione! Harry!" he shouted. "Get up! Get up!"

Harry stirred and his arm shot to Hermione's neck, checking for a pulse. He already knew the curse had hit her, but he would not believe she was dead. The look of shock on her face was too recent. She looked alive! "Hermione, say something, anything," Harry pleaded desperately.

She didn't move.

"Is she..." Ron choked out.

Harry did not reply. Instead he looked at Ron. All traces of his emerald orbs were gone. His eyes shone like rubies. The stench of sulfur permeated the area as the sky blackened. Thunderclouds appeared where none had been. Lightning reached down to touch a tree in the Burrow's garden. Magical energy crackled all around the paddock.

An orange curse alerted both Harry and Ron to a group of Death Eaters sprinting after them. Without hesitating, Ron jumped into position, back-to-back with Harry.

Neville and a thick-bodied Death Eater had intercepted both the Cleansweep and the Firebolt. They were circling above the two friends. On the horizon, several small specks, also mounted on brooms, were quickly approaching the Burrow.

Harry was facing the oncoming group of robed figures. Narcissa Malfoy, robeless and unmasked, was steps behind her husband, who also wore no mask. Voldemort trailed behind, slowly slithering across the paddock towards Harry.

From behind Harry, Ron was directing spells at the two Death Eaters on brooms. Suddenly, he fell backwards against Harry.

"Ron! You alright?" Harry turned around to help his friend. Lifeless eyes peered up at him.

A gale whipped across the paddock. It toppled all of the Death Eaters, but it did not affect Harry. The two on brooms were sent sailing out of control. Neville barely retained his grasp on the broom.

Harry's anger was all consuming, and he could feel power seeping through his veins. His primal scream cut through the cacophony of sounds on the paddock. He tasted blood on his tongue.

The burst of wind blew an invisibility cloak towards Harry. He snatched at it with his left hand, and identified the Death Eater who had been wearing it. Severus Snape was standing mere meters from Harry; his wand was still trained on Ron.

Harry flung down the invisibility cloak and spat at Snape. "You worthless, cowardly, piece of shit!"

Snape stared back at Harry with his piercing black eyes. "Never. Ever. Call me a coward!" Snape thundered. "You have no understanding of power, Potter."

White hot anger swelled inside of Harry. Remembering the lessons of two months prior, he silently incanted, 'Sectumsempra!'

The Cutting Curse narrowly missed its mark. Instead, it caught Snape on the wand arm. It was the second time Harry had witnessed a Death Eater losing a limb in Voldemort's service.

'Abigo!' This time, Harry's Banishing Curse connected squarely with a shocked Severus Snape. It was delivered with so much power that the curse shattered all of Snape's ribs. Three pierced his lungs, and a fourth embedded itself into his heart. Snape fell to the ground wheezing for air as he suffocated on his own blood.

"Yes!" Harry hissed in jubilation. Snape's death brought no remorse, only a desire to feed the uncontrollable rage gripping Harry's soul.

Neville had foolishly flown back into range of the enraged, red-eyed, Boy-Who-Lived. Neville screamed, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry dove to the side and rolled. Popping back up on his feet, he trained his wand on the airborne menace. "Incendio!" the anger inside Harry was burning uncontrollably. Black tendrils leapt from Harry's wand, engulfing Neville in a billowing pyre of flames.

Neville panicked and lost his grip on the broom. He fell from a height of five meters, flesh burning all the way to the ground.

"No!" a woman's voice screamed as she saw the blackened corpse plummet lifelessly. "Not my son! Not my only son!"

"Cissy, stop this right now!" Luna commanded.

Harry watched Narcissa Malfoy as she ran to Neville's side. He let her pass as understanding gripped his mind.

However, when Narcissa touched her son's body, the black flames reignited, burning her clothes and hair. Her flesh was next, producing an acrid odor, warning the other Death Eaters from drawing near.

Focusing his towering rage, Harry sought out Luna. Sprinting towards her at full speed, Harry jabbed his wand and cried out, "You bitch!" A chocolate beam escaped the eleven inches of holly wood, wrapped around a phoenix feather; it enveloped Voldemort's most insane follower. Luna began screaming and laughing hysterically as her clothes and skin began to disintegrate into ash.

"Bella, no!" exclaimed Lucius Malfoy. It was the first time Harry had ever heard the man utter a word without his usual aristocratic drawl. His words erased any doubt in Harry's mind as to whom he had just killed. The anguish behind Lucius' protest spoke volumes about the nature of their relationship. "No, Bella, no!" he cried out again.

Turning on Harry, Lucius stalked towards him, a menacing gleam in his eye.

"Lucius, no!" Voldemort hissed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dove to the side, avoiding the green kiss of death. Instead, Lucius' spell connected with a heavyset Death Eater coming up behind Harry. Beneath the robes, a toad-like woman fell dead, instantly.

In return, Harry sent his own Blasting Curse at Lucius. The older Wizard was unable to dodge the beam of magic. His body rocketed backwards nearly twenty meters. When Lucius hit the ground, he struggled to get to his feet but could not. Within moments, he was dead, and the Malfoy family was no more.

Voldemort began cackling with glee. Harry's anger abated instantaneously as he felt the telltale signs of Voldemort's mind retreating from his own.

The yew wand of death targeted Harry, and Voldemort softly hissed, "Abrumpo Anima!" Harry had no chance to react. A glint of triumph shone in the Dark Lord's ruby eyes as a pure black curse seized Harry's soul.

Harry recognized the incantation. But even if he had not, he would have immediately known the purpose of the spell. It was a pain beyond all others: searing, burning, scorching, smoldering pain.

Harry had invited this agony upon himself, and he knew it. He could feel its power inside him; it was eating at his soul - splitting it, again, again, again, again, and again. Six times his soul was severed, seven fragments, and each cleaved bit was more painful than the last.

Meeting Voldemort's eyes, Harry understood the Dark Lord's purpose. The events of the night were about only one thing: soul magic.

"I believe you have something of mine," Voldemort hissed in parseltongue. For the first time in his life, Harry heard it as a hiss and still understood the words. The Dark Lord approached Harry, his long bony fingers stretching out to touch The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry turned to run.

Instead his shoulders were seized tightly by a tall, broad-shouldered, blond Death Eater, who looked vaguely German. The German kneed Harry in the gut, causing him to double over and grasp his knobby knees, gasping for breath. The German then bent down and pried Harry's wand from his fingers, slipping it into his own robe.

"Accio locket," Voldemort hissed. The Horcrux that Hermione had found in Grimmauld Place, and the trio had destroyed only that morning, flew from Harry's neck into Voldemort's outstretched hand. Voldemort's lipless mouth contorted into a frown as soon as Slytherin's locket touched his skin. "You have destroyed it!" Voldemort hissed again. "I will require one more."

Voldemort cast around for a moment, looking over the bodies of Harry's friends. He removed a necklace with a runic amulet in the shape of a five pointed star from Hermione's neck. Pulling Molly Weasley's wedding ring and Bill's fang earring from his pocket, the Dark Lord hissed, "These will do. Your soul and mine, they are brothers, Harry. You know this, yes." He paused and pinned Harry with an evil smile. "Our souls can be mingled and made one. I have only four sevenths. I will need three more."

Harry had known Voldemort's plan as soon as the heir of Slytherin had screamed for Lucius not to kill him. Voldemort needed Harry alive. More specifically, the Dark Lord wanted three sevenths of Harry's soul. Harry glanced down at Ron and resolved never to let Voldemort win. Harry would rather accept death than lose even one bit of his fractured soul.

Turning again to Harry, Voldemort touched his wand to Hermione's necklace and quietly whispered, "Praestruo Anima." This prepared the necklace to become a Horcrux. Approaching Harry, Voldemort thrust the necklace into his hand. When their fingers brushed, Harry was shocked to feel no pain in his scar.

"You may choose, young Harry. Do this willingly, and join me as a loyal servant. I will spare your life. Together, we will purge the world of Mudbloods and Muggles and restore order to our society. Or," Voldemort paused momentarily, "you may choose to resist. In which case, I will kill you."

"I will never join you."

"Imperio!"

A blissful emptiness gripped Harry, and a voice in his mind coaxed him to implant the Horcrux with a fragment of his soul. Harry recognized the sensation immediately and squeezed the necklace in his fist as tightly as he could. The runic amulet dug into his skin, and the pain gave him something tangible to grasp. It separated his mind from the soothing voice. "That won't work, Tom," Harry said evenly. He could feel his magical power returning to him in abundance.

In anger, Voldemort cried out the Soul Extracting Curse, "Delibo Anima!"

"No!" Harry raised his empty wand hand, willing the curse to be blocked. A bright light enveloped Harry and swallowed the pure black curse.

At the same time, an on-looking woman, dressed in a Death Eater robe and mask, called out a Jelly Legs Jinx. The German Death Eater lost his balance, clinging to Harry for support.

Seizing upon the distraction, Harry brought his elbow back swiftly, jabbing it into the German's sternum. The man doubled over in pain, and Harry grabbed his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" a muffled voice shouted, followed by an ominous thump. Harry wanted to go to Tonks, but knew he had to deal with Voldemort instead.

In the mayhem that was unraveling, Voldemort cast the Soul Extraction Curse again. "Delibo Anima!"

With a glance at his friends, Harry summoned up the last vestiges of his hope, "Expecto Protegum!"

The charm was one Harry had read about in Dumbledore's journals. In the Headmaster's final battle with Grindelwald, Dumbledore himself had resorted to the same Soul Extracting Curse Voldemort was using here. To Dumbledore's great astonishment, Grindelwald had tried to summon this same shield as a defense against the Soul Curse.

The journal had been filled with pages of speculation as to why Grindelwald would use 'Expecto Protegum' as a counter to the Soul Curse. Many more pages had been dedicated to postulating why. Dumbledore was neither sure that the counter would work or that Grindelwald had cast it properly.

Harry had, of course, never even attempted the spell. But, he was well versed in both the Patronus and Shield Charms. Harry understood the theoretical conclusion that binding hope to protection could act as a shield powerful enough to protect even against a curse designed to rip a soul from a body.

Whether the shield was appropriate or not, Harry never did learn. Instead, his wand connected with its brother in Voldemort's hand. For the second time in his life, Harry experienced the effects of Priori Incantatem. In hindsight, Harry wondered if all he would have needed was to cast something as innocuous as a Tripping Jinx or a Nosebleed Hex.

When the two brother wand cores were forced to battle again, Harry instantly recognized the bright white light and phoenix song. The Death Eaters surrounding Harry and Voldemort were locked outside of the protective cocoon created by the wands.

"I see we are to test our wills once again, Potter." Voldemort shouted over the phoenix song. "You will not succeed this time. Legilimens!"

The mental assault on Harry was much too potent for his feeble occlumency shields. Voldemort's first push broke through them as if they were made of tissue paper. However, an interesting phenomenon occurred, one that surprised both Harry and Voldemort. Unlike his occlumency lessons with Snape, the legilimency attack from Voldemort combined with Harry's scar connection to create a feedback loop.

Harry could see what Voldemort saw in both his own mind and Riddle's. He understood Voldemort's intentions and emotions as if they were his own. The two were fully aware of each other. It felt as if their minds were one, but distinct: The mind had two thought processes but only one awareness.

Images of a dead snake, a snapped wand, a golden cup, and a tarnished Head Boy badge flashed in their joined minds. Voldemort had freed those portions of his soul from their Horcrux vessels, returning them to his human body.

With a surge of hope, Harry realized that Voldemort was vulnerable. There were no remaining Horcruxes. Defeating Riddle now would be a permanent victory!

What ensued was a battle of mind and will, magic and thought, emotion and desire. Later Harry would describe it as a battle for his essence, a testing of his mettle, and most succinctly, a tug-of-war for the fragments of soul the two wizards seemed to share.

Through their connection, Harry became intimately aware of the mind of Tom Riddle: his anger at his father for forsaking his mother, his hatred for the Muggles who had reared him in an unloving orphanage, his fierce determination to excel as a Wizard. Harry understood Riddle's shame when he had discovered his ancestry: a Mudblood marring the great Salazar Slytherin's bloodline, an unworthy heir for those who should be his subjects. And finally, Harry witnessed Tom Riddle's lifelong quest to purge his father's filth from himself.

After minutes of exploring Voldemort's past, Harry instinctively understood how to manipulate their connection. Hearkening back to Dumbledore's speculation that Harry could defeat Voldemort with love, he showed Riddle his childhood, unloved by his aunt and uncle. Harry presented to Voldemort all the times he had been ridiculed by his classmates and Snape. Harry forced Voldemort to relive the anger and the pain of losing his parents, godfather, and Albus Dumbledore.

As Harry showed all these things to Voldemort, the dark wizard began to press his advantage drawing deeper into Harry's mind until Harry seized him and would not let go. Harry forced upon him the love he earned from his friends and the Weasleys. He recalled all the memories he had ever used to produce a Patronus and drove them deep into Voldemort's mind. It weakened the Dark Lord greatly, but Harry could not overcome him.

Finally, Harry understood that a desire only to defeat Voldemort would never be enough. Voldemort wanted to defeat him just as badly. Like a breath of fresh air, the answer dawned on Harry. He had to desire life, not just Voldemort's destruction.

Sensing eminent defeat, Voldemort fought back desperately. The Dark Lord dredged up for Harry the recent memories of his friends' deaths. These memories nearly defeated Harry. He found that he simply wasn't sure if he wanted to continue living. And so, with his mind and magic locked in a battle with the most evil wizard of the century, Harry began to weigh the merits of his life.

He could not fathom losing this battle. The thought of the suffering and pain it would cause in Wizarding Britain was too much to stomach. However, latching on to a desire to live was even more difficult. Harry thought of the Dursleys, and Voldemort showed him Bellatrix reporting their deaths. Harry thought about Hogwarts, and Voldemort showed him Dumbledore's fall from the astronomy tower. Harry thought about Quidditch. He loved to fly; the freedom he felt in the air was unparalleled. Voldemort showed him his lifetime ban under Umbridge, but Harry smirked and dredged up the memories of sixth year Quidditch.

Harry recalled an image of the Weasley twins. He thought of them as brothers. They were always fun to be around. Voldemort weakened. Finally, Harry remembered the brightly colored posters outside of their shop in Diagon Alley. With an abrupt laugh, Harry remembered 'U-No-Poo! The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation.' It was enough for Harry to know that, in death, he would pass up a lifetime of enjoying jokes, Quidditch, and good friends like the Weasley twins. That was life, the journey, not the destination.

As Harry suddenly understood that life would be, and could be, enjoyable without Voldemort, his magic grew stronger. Voldemort struggled to free himself from their connection but could not. The glowing ball of light linking their wands traveled backwards along the path it had come from. It burned into Voldemort's wand arm. His own Soul Extraction Curse was forced back into his magical essence. The four sevenths of his soul that remained fled his body in a spectacular display of light and magic.

The cocoon created by the Priori Incantatem dissolved. Above him, Ministry Aurors flew around the paddock exchanging spells with the remaining Death Eaters. The Aurors were using their brooms well, and only a handful of robed figures were left standing.

As he watched the Aurors, a black mist rose from Riddle's body. Slowly, it began to condense, heating the area and burning the hairs on Harry's arms. He jerked his head down and panicked. For a split second, his mind locked up. He could not remember the incantation! The black mist was taking shape. A serpent slithered from a skull, its tongue flickering. The snake poised, ready to strike.

"Exstinguo Anima!" cried Harry, his memory returning in the nick of time. The snake and skull dissolved into dust and blew away with the wind.

On the ground in front of him, Voldemort was laying on his back staring up at Harry with a blank expression in his eyes. He was alive, but soulless, in a state similar to that of a dementor's victim.

Harry strode over to him, and pointed his wand down at the body. "Avada Kedavra!" Harry cried.

Instantly, the spells, hexes, and curses being cast by the Death Eaters stopped. Some were staring at Harry in astonishment. Others were repeatedly trying to cast spells and failing. For a few bright Death Eaters, the realization that they had lost their magic came in the last moments before Aurors swooped down and stunned them.

Silence blanketed the paddock. The thunderclouds and lightning bolts had fled upwards into the atmosphere. The brutal winds subsided into gentle breezes. The setting sun, low on the horizon, cast long shadows about the bodies strewn across the ground.

Harry slowly walked the few paces to where Hermione lay motionlessly. He was still desperately clutching her necklace in his hand. His palm bore the imprint of the amulet's mirror image, gauged into his skin.

Sitting down on the ground near her head, Harry carefully looped the chain around her fragile neck and secured the clasp. "We love you, you know that right?" he softly repeated her earlier words. "You'll always be a part of me." For a long time, he just sat there, gently stroking her soft hair.

_____

Author's Note: I hope you loved this chapter. It was extremely difficult to write, and went through many, many revisions. However, I am immensely pleased with my effort. The finished product would be a pale shadow of itself if it weren't for Lady Alchymia's excellent assistance. This chapter is dedicated to her.

Author's Recognition: I would also like to thank everyone who has helped me with this chapter. My betas, Lady Alchymia, Ivan, and Lisa did an excellent job. I probably should have named this chapter, "Harry Potter and the Struggle with Commas." Thanks also to Myles, and Tim Joy (Jeconais) who saw this chapter in its primordial form and offered some excellent feedback. Finally, thanks to those who have reviewed, or written me emails. Your comments and suggestions are highly valued and taken seriously. Thanks all.