Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Link

Hermione’s brain seemed to have jammed. Then seconds later it went into overload. What was Estella doing here? How did she know where they were? Who did she want to see? Were her intentions peaceful... or not?

“Alohomora!” cried Estella and the window flew open. She climbed in and dragged her broomstick after her. She smoothed her cloak then turned to face Hermione who couldn’t say a thing. Crookshanks, standing by Hermione, arched his back.

“I’m not going to kill you. You can lower your wand,” said Estella after surveying her companion for a minute.

“How can I believe you?”

“Who am I?” asked Estella in return.

“There is only person who you could be. Though I do not what you look like from my own eyes, Harry has described you to me many times. You are Estella Green.”

“Harry Potter recognises me?”

“Yes. He dreamed about you and Voldemort.”

Estella looked down and tapped her foot gently on the floor while Hermione watched her anxiously. Eventually she said, “How much do you know?”

“As much there is to know,” Hermione replied, “and more.”

They stood facing each other, in silence. “Why are you here? Are you here for a purpose?” Hermione said curiously after a long pause.

Estella sat down in Harry’s armchair, “Where’s Harry Potter? I know he’s here. Don’t try to deny it. I don’t want to kill him. I need to see him, though. However, you’ll do if necessary.”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair which she had returned to, “Harry and Ron are out riding. They should be back at lunch time.”

“Are they on their own? Where is the owner of the castle? Is he with them?”

“No. Lord Eldir is in France on business.”

Estella looked at her almost pityingly, “You have the nerve to tell me that? I’d have thought...”

She stopped. This was because the door had just opened to reveal Harry standing with a dropped jaw staring at the two ladies.

Hermione looked blankly at him. Harry seemed then to wake up as it were, “Estella Green in my room? Hermione, what’s going on? Why have you put your wand away?”

He raised his wand and pointed it at Estella who merely gave hers to Hermione. Estella looked at him with frank curiosity, “So you’re Harry Potter? I know you from your famous scar of course. I’ve wanted to meet you for years... Since that prophecy actually, if you really want to know.”

Harry looked from Estella to Hermione and back again in confusion, “Are you going to kill me, because if you are, hurry up about it because I’m fed up of all this fooling around I put up with your dear Tom Riddle,” he said bitterly to Estella.

She shook her head with a glimmer of a smile, “No, Harry. I’m not on your side, true. I’m not on Voldemort’s either. I’m on my own side. I’m not trying to make you join me, I just hope you’ll help me defeat Voldemort.”

“Help you defeat Voldemort?” asked Harry incredulously.

“Yes. I want him gone too. Still, we don’t have much time. Now I’ve got you both I can start to explain-”

Hermione interrupted, “Where’s Ron?”

“Still out there with Irene; he loves riding. I fell off, but actually I was just looking for an excuse for returning to you. I was worried...”

“Not Irene Malfoy, the squib?” asked Estella curiously.

“Irene Malfoy!?” cried Harry and Hermione in unison.

“Well, yes. I know the Malfoys. Irene is the daughter of Nefarius Malfoy, the brother of the notorious Lucius Malfoy. She’s a squib. Nefarius pampered her when she was little but practically turned her into a slave when she didn’t get excepted into Hogwarts, and hid her away. I’m not surprised she’s here I must say. It would be very convenient for him to have a real non magic person in his plot. ”

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, “What does this mean?”

“Do you know anything about Lord Eldir?”

Hermione frowned, “He’s a muggle friend of Dumbledore. He lives here and came to his title about three years ago.”

Estella nodded with pursed lips, “Tell me, Harry. What happened three years ago?”

Harry thought a minute. Three years ago, his fourth year... He felt a slightly sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach, “Voldemort returned to power.”

“Well done. Let me tell you a little history. It might interest you. The previous owners of Castle Squear were Lord and Lady Doring. Lord Doring was a permanent invalid and his wife had died earlier. They had no children. They were very cut off here. Most of the world had forgotten about them completely. Just under three years ago Lord Doring died. About a month afterwards a never heard of before cousin came to claim his inheritance. A certain Lord Timothy Eldir. No one could prove him wrong. He took over the castle but hardly ever lived there. He put himself into parliament and soon became the Prime Minister’s close friend. He soon found out about us and met Professor Dumbledore. They became friends- Eldir seemed to know just what would appeal to Dumbledore. He even managed to persuade Dumbledore to trust him with Harry Potter.”

Harry said faintly, “Eldir is Voldemort?”

“Yes, of course. You could have worked that out of course. You know his obsession with word games, I suppose. You know- Tom Marvolo Riddle equals ‘I am Lord Voldemort’. Look at Eldir. E-L-D-I-R. Turn the word round and you get R-I-D-L-E. Add another D and you get Riddle!”

“I’m a fool!” moaned Hermione from between her hands. Harry was looking absolutely aghast, “What do we do now?” he asked. He seemed to be looking to Estella for help. He appeared to trust her now.

“I’ve warned you, which was my objective. You don’t know how long it took me to find out what his plan was. I just knew that you were 'in the palm of his hand'. I haven’t done so much work since I was at school! I got most of the help from your dear ex Minister of Magic. He was very helpful. Now, however, you must follow your nose. You have to fight him sometime, and this holiday would perhaps be a good opportunity.” She smiled at them, “I know you’ll win.”

“Let’s get out of here!” cried Harry jumping up.

“Sit down, Harry.” Hermione restrained him, “Miss Green is right. We’ve got to fight him. Remember the closet- The Unbreakable Link. We’re the only ones now. Besides, you’ve got me and I’ve got you. We’ll see it through.”

Harry sat down again. He was still a bit confused; why was Estella really here? What did she care about him or Hermione? And more importantly, why Hermione? Yes, they had the Unbreakable Link, but Estella wouldn’t know that, would she?

“You have the Unbreakable Link?” asked Estella sounding surprised, “I didn’t know that. That makes it even better, I suppose. If you like, I’ll contact Professor Dumbledore and tell him what’s happened. I couldn’t bare it if you died. I have only one more thing to say to you now. Good Luck.” She looked at them in silence for a minute. Then, “Good-bye. I daresay I won’t see you for a long time. Think of me sometimes. Good-bye, Harry. It was nice meeting you- take care of her.” Harry and Estella turned to Hermione, “Good-bye...Hermione.” She seemed to be fighting some unconquerable emotion, then she turned and bent to kiss Hermione. Harry didn’t know what to make of it. Then she turned abruptly away to the window and climbed out onto her broomstick. Soon she was merely a spec in the distance.

Harry looked at Hermione, sitting perfectly still in an armchair. Silent tears were trickling down her cheeks. Harry sat down opposite her, he didn’t know how to comfort her. She must be feeling awful, he thought; she did not want to fight. He dragged her into it.

“Forgive me, Harry. I’m just...” she looked away from him.

“I think I understand. Don’t be ashamed to cry.” He paused, “To be honest, I still cry about my parents sometimes.”

Hermione stared up at him and seemed to cry harder, “Don’t talk to me about your parents.”

Harry felt suddenly angry, “Yes, it’s all very nice for you, you’ve got parents and a loving home. You could at least not dismiss my own grieving like that.”

It happened very fast, Hermione’s hand lashed across his face, as hard as it had done to Malfoy when he had insulted her about being a muggle born. Her face was white and taut and she stood up, towering over him. Her voice was almost a hiss, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you even dare. Try and see past your own self centred sorrow. You never knew your parents. How can you possibly impress on me that you are to be pitied? Don’t do it again. You might come up against me, and let me tell you, Harry Potter, you’ll find me an unpleasant antagonist.”

She turned away and stalked to the door of her room, still crying, when Harry, hand pressed against his stinging cheek called after her, “Don’t go, Hermione. I don’t understand what I did. You were mean about my parents, I think I was right to retort. What you did was unjust, I think, considering. I don’t think I said anything too unreasonable. OK, I was angry and I apologise if I offended you, but, why?”

Hermione’s already pale face drained itself of colour. She clutched the doorknob for support. Harry got up and moved closer towards her. He was quite alarmed, was she ill? She whispered, “I thought you knew...During the duel? Didn’t you realise? Oh no. I didn’t think...”

Harry looked at her, frowning. What was she talking about? An idea that would fit, “What’s happened? Your parents? Has something happened to them?”

“No. I can’t understand it though!"

“Understand what?”

There was only about a foot between them now, “Harry... Look at me. Don’t you see? Can’t you see? Don’t you know who I am?”

And Harry looked at her, and he saw with his eyes what he had missed for years. Since he had become friends with Hermione he had seen her with his brain. He had taken her for granted. Now he saw what Ron had seen, what Viktor Krum had seen, what Estella had seen, what everyone else had seen...

He saw an ordinary looking, though not totally plain young woman in tears. He saw that she was clever and brave. She would never be Hermione the swot again. That was over forever now. And he saw what she herself had seen many months ago. That he and Ron had missed. As usual, like at the Yule Ball, many years ago, they had overlooked Hermione. The obvious contestant- she was not striking to look at, she was clever, she was brave, she was muggle born, she knew him, she had the Unbreakable Link with him, she was going to have to fight Voldemort with him. She was Voldemort’s daughter.

They stared at each other, then Hermione said quietly, “So, do you understand now?”

Harry mutely nodded.

“Are you still my friend? You won’t desert me?” She looked anxiously up at him.

Harry threw his arms around her neck as a way of reply.

They stayed like that for some time, Hermione crying softly on Harry’s shoulder. It was such a relief to tell someone the truth. She’d found out who she was very soon after she had found out about Harry’s dream. She had not told anyone because she had been afraid- not afraid of facing her father, but of everybody’s reaction when they found out. Surely no good person would want to associate with Miss Voldemort. If it had been anyone else she wasn’t sure if she would have wanted to herself. Now she still had Harry at least- he still loved her. She could even have faced Voldemort with a light heart.

Harry sighed as he looked down at her head of brown hair. He had never dreamed- of all the people to fulfil the prophecy- Hermione! She was so obvious, they hadn’t noticed how natural it all now seemed. Of course it would be Hermione. It couldn’t have been anyone else. With a jolt Harry realised that he wouldn’t have fought with anyone else. For some reason he had grown possessive of Voldemort. He would not have let anyone else defeat him. But Hermione- that was different. Hermione was different. He would fight with her, and only her. He had known her for so long- it made sense. He didn’t care that he might die in the attempt- it was knowing what he had to do that was almost calming. He would have a rest today- Voldemort wouldn’t attack them this afternoon. The next day he would discuss it all with Ron and Hermione and make a plan of attack. He wondered how Ron would take it.

Estella was going to tell Dumbledore what was happening so that factor had been taken care of. It didn’t occur to Harry, or to Hermione who had forgotten all about it, how likely it was, if Estella actually got to Hogwarts, that Dumbledore would believe her. It could just seem like a plot to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts. It had happened before.

“I really think we should get back to Harry and Hermione. We’ve been out for three hours, and we haven’t even turned round. We’re meant to be back at the castle in twenty minutes.” Ron trotted his horse up to where Irene was riding in silence ahead of him. He was getting angry. He had been deserted by his two friends and now he seemed to be being kidnapped by a sixteen year old muggle. He couldn’t restrain her by magic because she was a muggle and he would be in trouble with the Ministry.

Irene turned round and said tonelessly, “We’ll just go a little further. There’s plenty of time.” She tapped her pony with her whip and cantered off, Ron following reluctantly.

Irene was approaching a fallen tree log which she would have to jump. Unfortunately the trees were very low at that point and as she jumped, her hair got caught in a twig.

“Ow!” she cried, losing her balance. She clutched the pony round its neck, and managed to keep her seat, however she was clearly very shaken.

Ron took the easy way round the log- he didn’t feel up to jumping just yet, “Are you OK?” he asked. Much as he disliked her, he felt some concern.

Her grey eyes seemed to have gained some warmth and she suddenly looked terrified, “Go!” she cried, “while there’s time. Now! Go straight up the path and past the river... Gallop...” She was starting to look more serene again, “Please go, Ron.”

Ron gaped at her. She shouted now, “NO! Go, like I said. If you value your friends... Imperius...” She was lost again. Ron understood then. Irene was under the Imperius curse and when she got the shock of almost falling off she had managed to shake it off for a minute. Ron turned Fudge round and kicked him hard. He started to move back up the path at a vigorous canter.

“Where on earth is Ron?” asked Hermione, eating two day old sandwiches on Harry’s four-poster. “He said he’d be back by one, it’s half past now.”

Harry shrugged, “Maybe Irene kidnapped him. We know she’s in with Voldemort now, and if she’s anything like her cousin, dear Draco, she’ll be really happy to serve him.”

“Oh I hope not. Let’s just hope they got lost or something. They’ll be back soon.” Hermione rolled onto her front on the four-poster and opened a large volume.

“Drat.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve finished it and I don’t have the second volume.”

“Why not look in the library here for it, it’s supposed to be very good,” Harry suggested.

Hermione yawned, “Can’t be bothered. I’ll get it later. I’m tired, what with all that crying and so on.”

Harry swept all the sandwich wrappers off the bed onto the floor and sat in an armchair with Crookshanks on his knee while Hermione fell asleep.

The minutes passed and Harry, who didn’t feel tired at all, became bored. He stroked Crookshanks, tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, whistled. He did everything to not think about had happened between him, Hermione and Estella. Eventually he had an idea- he would go to the library and try to find the second volume of Hermione’s book. He stood and tiptoed over to where the first volume was lying on the floor. He picked it up- it was a leather bound copy of Hypocrites and Happiness by Samuel Morrison. Harry raised his eyebrows. Still, if Hermione liked it...

He crept over to the door and opened it gently, careful not to disturb his sleeping friend. He shut it quietly behind him and then speeded up his walk towards the double doors at the end of the corridor which were those of the library. He tried the lock; the door opened with a little creak. For some reason Harry felt like he was breaking and entering.

The library was dark and dusty. Hardly any light penetrated through the small windows. It was a high, vaulted room. There were shelves of books filling it all up- far more than in the school library. The silence hung heavy in the air. Dust covered pictures of people in old fashioned clothes lined the walls. Harry walked slowly towards one of the shelves and started quietly, like he was breaking a rule, to look along the shelves.

He felt a slight prickling on the back of his neck. He turned quickly round, a copy of Hard Times in his hand. No one was there. Harry slotted the Dickens back on the shelf and fingered his wand anxiously. ‘This is ridiculous, I’m beginning to imagine things.’ He pulled his wand out and muttered, "Lumos". The books were all lit up. Harry carried on looking, one ear still on silence. There was a creak somewhere, but Harry, ignored it. He wasn’t going to be scared by every little- His scar seemed to explode. He spun round, dropping his wand because of the unexpected pain.

“Well met, Harry Potter,” said Lord Voldemort.

Hermione woke up with a jump. For a second she wondered what it was, then she realised she had a splitting headache. There was a burning pain from behind her forehead. She shook her head, but it wouldn’t go away. She looked around her for Harry, but he wasn’t there.

“Harry?”

Silence. Hermione stood up and smoothed her crumpled robes. The room was cold and Harry wasn’t there. The pain in her head increased and Hermione realised what it was. It was Harry’s scar hurting her through the Unbreakable Link. And Harry’s scar only hurt when Voldemort was near...

Like walking in a dream Hermione picked up her wand and opened the door into her room. She went over to her trunk. At the bottom there was a little red muggle notebook. Hermione, more calmly than she actually felt, opened it and looked over the spell for the last time. Then she replaced it in the case. She reached the door into the corridor when she had an idea. ‘I’m not going to make it easy for him...’ she thought.

She re-entered Harry’s room and looked into his trunk for his most valued possession: his invisibility cloak. The silver material shone in her hands. It reminded her of when she had last needed it- in Greece. Now she needed it again. She slipped it over head and opened the door.

Where could they have gone? She looked up and down the corridor searching for where they could be. A door was open a little at the end of the passage. Hermione ran softly towards it and slipped through it without touching it. The library! Of course.

Standing between two bookshelves were Harry and Voldemort. Hermione felt sick. She had seen him in her mind many times but never had she actually seen him. He was twirling Harry’s wand between his fingers. He did not seem to be attacking at the moment. He was merely talking to Harry.

“So, I had to actually do the disguising myself. All my death eaters aren’t trust worthy enough. I had to pretend that I was in France because if I didn’t you would know who I was because of your little scar. Very tiresome, that.”

“I don’t understand,” complained Harry. Hermione crept behind the bookshelf nearest Harry, “why you didn’t just kill me as soon as I arrived here? Why wait two days?”

“I waited for my daughter.” There was a tense silence. Hermione felt her hands going clammy as she peered round the bookshelf.

“Your daughter will never join you, Voldemort.” Harry cried more strongly than he felt. Hermione held her breath. “Your daughter is on my side and she will never come over to you. Besides, in the prophecy, it says that I will defeat the light together with Her- your daughter and I will never change sides.”

“What makes you think that?” Voldemort twirled Harry’s wand lazily. Hermione suddenly realised that she wasn’t actually doing anything listening to their conversation. She’d come here to save Harry and kill Voldemort and that was what she was going to do. She took a deep breath, and checking she was still covered by the invisibility cloak, she pointed her wand at Harry and began to recite the charm she had spent months learning off by heart.

“Your daughter is not even here!” cried Harry.

“You think not? Well it just so happens that your clever Professor Dumbledore tells all his secret suspicions about my offspring to Lord Eldir. I’ve therefore got quite a good idea who she is. But perhaps you know who she is?” His red eyes bored into Harry’s. Harry couldn’t say anything.

“I thought you did. And I think my suspicions are therefore correct. One more ‘pointless’ death will not matter if I am wrong. At this moment in time, my dear little Irene is leading your friend deeper and deeper into the woods. By the time she brings him back you will be either dead or gone.”

“Gone where?”

“To kill poor Professor Dumbledore along with your little friend and companion, my daughter.”

The idea was almost laughable. “I’d much rather be dead than help you kill Dumbledore.”

Hermione lowered her wand. She had just completed the spell on herself as well. “If that’s what you want...” Voldemort raised his wand.

In Hermione’s head she could hear Harry speaking, he’d managed to use his art. Hermione? Where are you? You promised you wouldn’t let me die- and I don’t have my wand! I can’t do magic without it.

Hermione bit her lip and replied, I won’t let you die. Never mind your wand. I’ll get it back for you, trust me. I am now actually in the room. Trust me.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin.

“Yes, I’d be like if I was about to die. You don’t have your wand and there’s no one to die for you now. Say good bye to life. I would torture you first but I’m in a hurry. I want to find my daughter after I’ve got rid of you. You’re quite right, I don’t think you’ll join me. Therefore, you can go to your muggle mother and your silly muggle friend who’ll be joining you shortly.”

Voldemort raised his wand again and Hermione held her breath. Time seemed to stand still. Not for the first time she worried. What if it didn’t work? What if...?

“Avada Kedavra!”

Ron pushed open the door of the castle and, not bothering to shut it behind him, ran up the stairs. It had taken him over an hour and a half to return, even at Fudge's greatest pace. Irene had gone on ahead, probably under the influence of the Imperius curse. He had ridden on at a fast canter (Fudge didn’t seem to gallop) and when he had arrived he had left the horse in the yard to stay or escape as he wanted. If Harry and Hermione were in danger in some way he, Ron would have to do something. He did not know what yet.

He pushed open his door and ran into Harry’s room to look for him. The room seemed deserted, but when Ron looked towards the window he got the shock of his life. Someone was standing by the window, looking out of it, her back turned away from him. It was a female in a dusty pink summer dress that was very well worn. She had loose shoulder length strawberry blond hair. He couldn’t see her face.

“Ron Weasley?” she asked. She had a serious, brisk voice.

“Uh, yeah,” replied Ron pulling out his wand.

“No, no,” she said without turning round. “I won’t hurt you. However, I have a message to deliver to you. Harry and Hermione have gone to fight Voldemort.”

Ron’s jaw dropped, “What? Fight You-Know-Who? Where? When?”

“I think they’re in the library.”

A suspicion was entering Ron’s mind. Before he could properly think it through, the woman said, “You really can trust me, it isn’t a trap I promise you. You however, must write and get help. Estella Green won’t be able to deliver the message.”

“Estella Green?!”

“Yes, she was here. This place is Voldemort’s. Now, you get some paper and a pen and write to Dumbledore. We need help urgently.”

“Why don’t you do something if it’s so urgent?”

“Because it’s their battle. I can’t interfere. Where’s that parchment?”

Ron couldn’t see any.

“Honestly, conjure some. Oh, if you don’t know how...” She raised a hand and drew with a finger a piece of parchment in the air and then a pen. They shone silver in the air then she muttered a spell and a piece of parchment and a pen appeared in front of Ron.

“Without you wand!” cried Ron in astonishment.

“Without my wand,” she replied in an exasperated tone. “Now get writing. I’ll dictate. Um... Write this. Dear Professor Dumbledore. We have discovered that Lord Eldir is actually Lord Voldemort. Oh, correct that. You’d say You-Know-Who. You got that? I’ll carry on. Harry and Hermione have gone to fight in the library and as you realise, this is their fight and I can’t interfere. Still, I would like some support and I would be obliged if you could come here ASAP. I imagine the castle is protected by apparition guards so apparate to the nearest village, which is called Denby Dale. You can fly from there. For reasons of my own I would prefer it if you didn’t let it be known I sent you this letter. You were given this information from a spy of yours. However, I can tell you this is all true. I am not a spy impersonating me. I really am Ron Weasley. Yours sincerely, Ron Weasley. That’ll do.”

Ron finished writing and shook his aching hand, “I don’t understand. Why don’t you send it yourself if you really are trustworthy? Why don’t you show me your face? How can you do magic without a wand?”

The woman shook her head, “I can’t tell you any of this because technically I don’t exist.”

Ron started, “You’re a...a ghost?”

“No, but I can’t explain what I mean. Please just trust me. I love you three. I couldn’t see anything happen to you. I also beg you not to tell of who or what you have seen.”

Ron didn’t know what to say.

“You’re scared of me. OK, let’s just say, I’ll hurt you if you don’t comply with my wishes.” She sounded quite desperate now, “For Harry’s sake don’t tell. I mean it.”

Ron swallowed, “All right. I trust you, I don’t why, but I do. Shall I send the letter off now?”

“Yes, send it with Hedwig.” Ron turned around and folded the letter up, attached it to Hedwig’s legs and whispered “Be fast!” He turned round to open the window and send the owl off. The woman had disappeared. Ron looked around the room but no one was there. Hedwig flew out of the window. Ron gaped, “What happened to her?” Crookshanks rubbed against his legs, but obviously couldn’t answer.

A jet of green light hit Harry in the chest. The library was totally silent. He didn’t fall to the floor. The green light seemed to cover him entirely. Hermione could hardly see; it was so bright. Then it was all gone and they were left with spots across their eyes. And Harry was still there. He was sitting on the floor looking absolutely shocked, but it was nothing to how Voldemort looked. He backed away, horrified, “You’re...you’re still alive?”

Harry pinched himself then said slowly, “Yes, I am.”

Voldemort let go of Harry’s wand. “How?”

For once Voldemort and Harry seemed to be in agreement, “I don’t know. Do you?”

“No.” Hermione almost giggled. She hadn’t felt so light hearted for a long time. Quickly though, she muttered, “Accio Wand!” Harry’s wand flew into her waiting hands. However, in her eagerness to see what had happened, the cloak had slipped off her shoulders.

“So...” Voldemort seemed to have recovered a bit, “It looks we have a spectator.”

Harry wheeled round and saw Hermione. He opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out.

“Er, good afternoon, my Lord,” she said as casually as possible.

“Elvira, you’re very welcome to join our little family reunion. You have witnessed Harry Potter resisting the death curse for the second time. Do you have any ideas how he did this?”

“None at all.”

“Indeed. I have wanted to meet you for a long time now, you know. You have heard of the prophecy concerning yourself and Mr. Harry Potter.”

“Yes. I have heard it.”

“Of course, I understand that you will be joining us.”

Hermione tried to look at him straight in the eye, “That was what the prophecy said, didn’t it? And everyone knows prophecies always come true.”

Voldemort nodded, “So you are joining me?”

“That’s what I gave you to understand, wasn’t it?”

Harry made a gagging sound. Hermione ignored him, “Of course Harry will come with me, won’t you?”

“NO! If you betray us, that’s your decision, but don't expect me to go along with it!” Harry said furiously glaring at Hermione.

“All right. It looks like our paths go separate ways from now on. I’ll just give Harry his wand back.” She looked at Voldemort for collaboration.

“Yes, give him his wand back. Then you can duel together afterwards.”

Hermione smiled slightly and concentrated all her mind in giving Harry his wand back.

“Go on, give it him then,” Voldemort hissed impatiently.

The wand appeared in Harry’s hand. He looked at it in surprise. Hermione smiled and twirled her own wand like Voldemort had done earlier. He looked from one to the other in surprise and his face went paler and paler as he realised what he had just seen.

“Do you have the Unbreakable Link?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that? Yes, we do.” Hermione was enjoying this.

Voldemort couldn’t go any whiter; in fact, he seemed to be going slightly green now, “But you are on my side now?”

“That's what I said,” Hermione replied in honeyed tones. In her mind she had made up her mind what she was going to do, Harry, she said into his head, After three say it.

Say what? replied Harry.

Do you want to kill him or not? We won’t go to Azkaban for this. One!

They raised their wands. Voldemort raised his finger as well. He seemed to understand what they were going to do. Hermione had tricked him.

“I’m your father!”

“You have killed others’ fathers!”

Two!

“You’ll never do it.”

“Don’t be so sure of it.”

“Expelli-”

Three!

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Two jets of green light shot out from each of their wands. Just before they hit Voldemort the jets joined and turned into a brilliant gold. Hermione felt her wand hand shaking as she tried to maintain the light. It was blinding, you could not see anything else. There was a rushing sound, like a cross between the wind and the beautiful phoenix song. The gold light hit Voldemort and there was a burst gold light illuminating his terrified face and his body, now picked up from the floor. Then the gold intensified even more for a split second before disappearing, taking Voldemort with it.

Far away at Hogwarts, Professor Snape, marking Potions papers in the staff room, felt his skin on his left arm burning. He rolled up his sleeve quickly. The dark burned clearer than ever then abruptly it disappeared.