Harry Potter and the Black Secret

Chapter Twenty

Songs of war

Harry woke up slowly, not wanting to bring himself into consciousness knowing what it was he would see. He found himself thinking that the fact that he preferred being cataleptic to cognisant really was rather depressing. Gradually he realised that he was not in the same position he had fallen asleep in, chained to the wall and incapable of movement. He was instead slumped on the floor, his head resting on his arm.

The stone ground was so cold it was almost moistened by his body heat. He ached all over. Carefully he shifted his weight so he was lying on his back, but as soon as the move was complete he sat up, not abhorring the touch of the stone on his naked back.

He looked down at himself, his vision blurred, but good enough to see the pair of black-rimmed spectacles sitting beside him on the ground. He picked them up and put them on. The world around him came into focus.

He was still in the dungeon, stripped from the waist up with bare feet. His black trousers were torn and frayed and stained with blood. His blood. He could see dark purple-black bruises on his chest and lacerations on his sides. He knew he had a bruise on his left eye and at least one slash across his face. He could taste the raw wound behind his lower lip.

He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms round his legs, resting his chin on his knees and closing his eyes to the world that surrounded him, he thought of nothing.

Alone.

He had thought he understood what that meant. Having nothing and no one. Just yourself and your thoughts and the darkness. Living day to day by yourself. But now he understood loneliness. It was having nothing and nobody, not even your own mind to satisfy the time. It was having it all and loosing it, and no hope of getting it back. That was what being alone was about. Hopelessness.

"Don't give up baby," an impossibly familiar voice said into the despair, echoing as if from far away.

Harry knew her sweet singsong voice as a distant memory. One he lived to recall. It couldn't be her.

"It's not over yet," she said, and Harry knew beyond a doubt then that it was her. Impossible though it was, he had heard her voice, and a new surge of hope flowed through his veins.

"Don't worry Mum," Harry whispered, "I'm not finished yet."

The door to his cell opened with the now too familiar creak and Kristine walked to his side. Customary once again she wore dark shades and was clad in black to set off her ice white skin.

"Wake up sleepy head," she cooed before she caught site of a very wide-awake Harry. She lifted her shades to rest on top of her head, "Well this makes a change. I thought I was going to have to tempt you into joining us. Pity."

"Were you always a nymphomaniac, or is Malfoy just not satisfying your otherworldly feminine needs?" Harry spat at her.

"Ouch," Kristine said grinning, "Careful Potter, that actually bordered on a witty comeback."

"Did you want something in particular, or did you just want to play another round of sexually harass the hostage?" Harry said.

"And now with the bitter sarcasm," she replied, "I'm impressed. For a while back there I was afraid we'd broken your spirit, and where's the fun in that."

"I'm glad this new found love for torture is working it for you, I'd hate for you to get bored. I'll ask again, did you want something?"

"Sadly yes. The time has come for us to say goodbye and go our separate ways, our separate ways being me carrying on living and you being dead," she said pulling Harry to his feet, "I wouldn't worry about it though sweetheart, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Of that, Harry thought to himself, there was no doubt.

*

The full moon lit up the night sky with a silvery light, masking the twinkling stars in a haze of blue-black velvet. It was warm for a September night Harry thought. Ironically, he was warmer out here in the night air than he had been stuck down in the dungeons of Malfoy manor. Harry had no doubt now that that was where he head been held.

Walking out of the dungeons and into the house, magically bound to Kristine on his left and Malfoy on his right, he had noticed the overwhelming pompous air of the Malfoy family honour. Old portraits hung on the walls of deceased Malfoy relatives, all with silver blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Clearly not a lot of variety in the genetics of this family.

They had walked out of the house and into the vast grounds of the mansion, and then they had walked further still until they reached a small abandoned church that resided at the edge of Malfoy land. Through the graveyard and out the other side, and then they stopped.

Harry had plenty of time to absorb his surroundings as he was once again bound, this time to an unimaginably high pole. The palisade was platinum silver, about as thick as the post of a Quidditch hoop, and reached at least as high as the spire of the church approximately two hundred yards away. He could see a thick bramble of forest next to the church that stretched as far as the eye could see and open ground next to and behind him. He knew that directly behind him was a cliff edge, and he could hear the crashing of waves against the rocks in the still of the night.

No sooner had he been bound to this mast, hands above his head and standing with his back against the cold metal, by his only two companions did he begin to panic slightly. The confidence he felt at hearing his mother's voice was gradually fading as he realised he had no idea what to do, or what was going to be done to him.

"Are you scared?" Kristine asked standing in front of Harry. She seemed genuinely interested.

"It's a little bit difficult to be scared of something I have no clue about," Harry said calmly.

"You know you're going to die. Doesn't that fact frighten you?" she asked.

"I've been prepared to die ever since I went searching for the Philosopher's stone. Death doesn't frighten me if that's what you're asking."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

Harry pondered this question for a minute before answering.

"People who are afraid of death have something to loose. I don't have anything left to mourn for," he said.

"You have your friends, people who love you. Don't they matter to you?"

"I'm more afraid of loosing them to death than loosing myself," Harry said.

"They'll be in pain because of your death. Isn't it selfish to not want to live for their sake?"

"They have each other. They'll get over it."

"Like you've gotten over me?" Kristine asked.

Harry was surprised by this remark. For a second she had sounded like the Kristine he loved, but he didn't allow himself to think it for more than a fleeting second. She wasn't his Kristine.

"I'm not over you," he said quietly, "I'll never be over you. But I've accepted that you're gone and all that's left is a demon in place of the girl I once knew."

Kristine looked stunned, but didn't get the chance to reply as a ring of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort himself popped into existence.

"Ten minutes till midnight," Voldemort said softly, the same deadly hiss in his voice as ever, "Kristine," he called, and she came to his side, "prepare the ritual."

Kristine's glance lingered on Harry a moment longer, and then she waved a hand and several object flew to her side, hovering in anticipation of use.

Harry was vaguely aware that the Death Eaters were forming a ring around him and that the only three people who did not join this circle were Voldemort himself, Draco Malfoy, and Kristine.

Kristine didn't look at Harry as she poured an enclosure of what smelt like powdered chalk, but looked like dusted silver around him. Inside his mystical cage existed only himself attached to the mast, Kristine and the objects she had conjured to her side.

"This looks complicated," Harry commented casually, "you'd better not loose your concentration. Something critical might go wrong."

"Is this your attempt to distract me?" Kristine scoffed, although she still did not look at Harry and just continued to prepare her circle.

"I'm just curious about this, ritual did he call it? Must be important if all this trouble has been put into killing me. Why not just impale me and be done with it?" he said in a chipper tone as Kristine finished placing several fancy stones at specific points around the circle.

She walked up at glared at him directly in the eye, their noses almost touching.

"Believe me," she hissed, her voice full of malice, "if I'd had my way you wouldn't have survived our little rampage of Hogwarts."

Harry was taken aback. This side of Kristine was new to him. She was always so calm and collected, an echo of Lord Voldemort. Cold. Unattached. Emotionless. Inhuman. She seemed to regain control over herself again.

"Not that I haven't enjoyed our little torture sessions," she said.

"So what does this ritual do then?" Harry said trying to sustain his casual tone.

"You really want to know?" Kristine asked amused, "Are you sure? I think you'll be much happier not knowing the purpose of your death. Ignorance is bliss."

"Only enlightened people think that. I want to know."

"Its your funeral," Kristine shrugged, "but is you really want to know, I've got two minutes to spare."

Harry watched as Kristine picked up a small ceramic bowl containing a concoction of herbs. She pulled out a long silver dagger from her belt. Harry knew that dagger and felt a pang of anger as he remembered the way she had sliced Ron's throat. The way his crumpled body fell lifeless to the ground. Was he dead and gone? There was no way he could have survived that. Poor Hermione.

Harry's thoughts were snapped back to the present as he saw Kristine slash her own arm just above the elbow, just above the rim of the leather glove. She didn't even wince. She allowed her blood to drip into the bowl along with the herbs. Harry noticed how her blood was darker than any blood he'd ever seen spilt before. And he'd seen a lot of bloodshed.

"Blood is life," she said as she mixed her blood into the herbs creating a smooth claret paste, "we cannot live without blood. It courses through our veins carrying oxygen to our hearts and colour to our skin. Blood is the essence of who we our. Loosing it means death. Altering it means we are no longer alive.

Your blood, Harry, contains the magic of protection. You already know that. My blood is not of this world. It's dark and dead. In case you haven't figured it out for yourself yet, I'm a Vampire. Well, partly anyway. I always have been. Draco's blood is just like mine," she said as Draco stepped into the circle and up to the pair.

Kristine handed Draco the bloodstained knife and he sliced his palm dripping his own blood into the mixture.

"He's not a Vampire," Kristine continued as she now mixed Draco's blood with her own, "he's part Veela. Ironic don't you think? Vampires are considered the most romantic seducers of women, and Veela of men, yet I'm the Vampire and he's the Veela. It makes no difference though. We're connected through body and soul and always will be."

"Three minutes to go love," Draco said. It was the first time he'd spoken since they had left the manor nearly an hour ago.

"This ritual," Kristine said stepping forward, "will drain you of your blood. Your life, one drop at a time until there's nothing left inside of you but empty ducts that once provided you life.

The full moon represents the tides, water. The ground you're standing on bare foot, earth. A Veela is a creature of the element fire and a Vampire one of air. The four elements will bid together in ancient magic and release your power, because Harry, you are powerful, into the circle that now surrounds you. Once the circle is filled, your essence will be captured into this," she held up an urn made of black onyx stone, "and you will belong to Lord Voldemort for all eternity.

Trust me, there is no way to reverse the spell."

As if on cue, Kristine finished her speech as midnight struck with a bolt of lightning. Electricity crackled at the apex of the conductor to which Harry was tied, but did not travel to earth itself. The deadly ball of energy rested above Harry's head, and then Kristine spoke again. The ritual had begun.

"Spiritueux de la terre, j'envoke vous,

Des apparitions d'air, je vous invite,

Essence de la mer, je vous charge,

Les fantômes de la flamme, entendent mon cri,

Recueillez avec moi maintenant, et faites ma volonté.

Goddess Gaia, rich soil of the earth,

Princess Veela, burning heat of the fire,

Master Luna, effulgent calm of the water,

Prince of Darkness, sharp cut of the air,

Bind together in this circle, and emit your power through this soul I present,

By blood I call thee,

Come."

At this point in the ritual Kristine raised the knife she was holding in her gloved hand and cut half an inch into Harry's already scarred chest. She carved a symbol onto his skin. A triangle dissected by three lines that all crossed midway between the triangles sides.

Blood trickled down his skin, but he did not scream.

She then took the bowl that contained the concoction of both hers and Draco's blood and smeared it over the shape she had cut.

The mixture of the herbs into Harry's skin burned and he felt as though his very flesh was corroding, but he did not scream.

Draco stepped forward and stood in front of Harry as Kristine moved behind him, out of sight. Draco's eyes were pure white and sparked with the energy of the spell. It seemed to be taking all of the blonde's concentration to keep the surge of power flowing from him and into the circle. From what Harry could gather, Draco was the source of magic sustaining the spell as Kristine carried out the ritual itself.

Draco was muttering something that sounded vaguely like Latin, but Harry couldn't be sure. The strain of the spell seemed to be taking its toll, and Harry now understood why he had been so quiet all day. Gathering his strength. For a fleeting second Harry thought that Draco might cave in and ruin the ritual, but all hope vanished when he heard a voice from behind him.

"See you in hell," Kristine whispered so only Harry could hear.

Before Harry had time to register Kristine's sudden movement he felt the now familiar burning of pain and the warm sensation of sticky blood on his skin. Suddenly he felt weak, and he knew what she had done. Both his wrists were slashed deeply and his blood was freely flowing down his arms and dripping onto the ground at his feet.

Harry heard a crack of electricity as the power resting above his head abruptly diverted and connected to the circle on the ground surrounding himself, Draco and Kristine in a lightning hemisphere. He could not see out of the electrical confine and a blinding white light filled the inside. Harry knew that the only thing keeping him on his feet were the ropes around his arms, and the world around slowly became dimmer and dimmer.

What Harry didn't see was that it was not just the three of them in the net, and he could only just hear the sound of a collision and Kristine scream with surprise before he blanked out completely, certain that he would not be waking up.

*

Kristine hit the ground hard and smashed the onyx urn in the process. The electrical cage vanished in an instant, revealing the scene to all who stood before them.

Harry was unconscious and still bleeding, but no longer with any magical effect. Draco too was unconscious on the ground as the power of the spell being unexpectedly and uncontrollably diffused blacked him out. Kristine was on the ground, but appeared to be getting up and generally unharmed. Next to her was a large rock. What was most apparent about the scene however was the appearance of a fourth figure standing behind Kristine, hand raised in front of him. Tall and clad in black, flaming red hair contrasting with the night.

"You've been a very bad girl Kristine," he said coldly and then telekinetically sent her sailing out of the circle.

Kristine picked herself up off the ground and spun to face the redhead, her shades were shattered and on the ground and her eyes radiated with pure malice. Her ink black hair hung jagged and vicious down her back and her torn long leather coat lashed out behind her.

In a split second she had crossed the distance between herself and Ron and announced her presence at his side by a violent chop across the back of his neck.

Ron dropped to his knees and coughed, winded from the unexpected attack.

"Vampire speed and strength. Nifty," he choked, almost laughing.

Kristine grabbed the back of Ron's cloak and heaved him effortless to his feet. She threw a punch at him, but Ron was ready for her. He grabbed her swinging arm just above the wrist and twisted it behind her back. She yelped at the unpredicted movement, but recovered quickly by smashing the back of her head into Ron's.

They stood facing each other for a moment.

"I've got to say Red, I'm surprised to see you. I really thought I'd done a better job of killing you," Kristine said regaining her usual decorum.

"Really? I thought you were a little sloppy," Ron shot back and at the same time telekinetically sending another boulder her way. She was prepared this time though and brushed it away without any effort.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she said.

"Not really," Ron said casually, "I just have to keep you busy."

Kristine was suddenly struck by something and spun around to look at Harry, who was no longer tied to his stake. A small red-haired girl was at his side administering healing potions. Kristine was about to make a move towards them (she could be there in half a second), but for the second time in as many minutes, she was struck from behind.

She picked herself up and turned back to Ron, if possible, looking even angrier.

"You know, this is getting real old, real fast Red," she spat.

"Tough Shit, because I'm just getting started," Ron snarled back at her and threw a fist of energy her way, knocking her off her feet.

Kristine was getting used to his style now though, and in the instant she hit the ground, she was suddenly by his side.

Ron took his opportunity and seized hold of her neck, touching skin on her icy exterior. At the same time his wand came to his hand and he pressed the tip into her chest.

"Lamia," he said, and in response to his words a vehement light erupted from the end of his wand and encased both him and Kristine inside a shimmering bubble of light.

Kristine pushed away from him, but he kept hold of her. Her strength was gone.

"What did you do," she hissed.

"A protection spell. I think it's only fair that we fight even, don't you?" he replied.

"Fine by me," she quipped, and the next thing Ron was aware of was that her foot had collided fiercely with his face.

He raised a hand to his face and felt blood originating from hi nose. He wiped it away and stared down the haired girl before him.

"Okay," he said, "Now I'm angry."

She swung a punch at him, but he caught her arm once again, this time twisting it behind her back. A sharp pain as she kicked him in the knee forced him to let her go, and she swung another heavy kick at his face.

"I take it this hand to hand fighting stuff is something you've picked up in your last few months as a hell bitch," he said, trying to ignore the throbbing on his cheek. That was going to be one hell of a bruise he thought.

"No," she replied, sending a kick into his stomach, "I learnt this a long time ago."

"Would that be before or after you fucked my brother?" Ron said, doing his best not sound breathless.

His comment had the desired effect, as Kristine was obviously startled.

"How did you find out about that? There's no way he would have told you, and I certainly haven't mentioned it."

"You'd be surprised what you can find out by listening through doors," Ron said, and he punched her hard across the face. Without her Vampire strength on hand, she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Ron took out his wand and spoke the Finite Incantartem charm, and the bubble disappeared. As soon as it was gone, he tied Kristine up with magical binds and carried her over to Hermione who had Draco on the ground similarly bound.

All around them were Death eaters and Order members fighting, sending hexes and curses at each other.

"How's Harry?" Ron asked, setting Kristine down next to Draco.

"Still unconscious," Hermione replied nodding over to Ginny who was still nursing Harry's many wounds, "but I think he'll live. What are we going to do with them?" she asked indicating the two figures at her feet.

"I have no idea," Ron said dejectedly, "this was as far as my plan went. I didn't make after arrangements as I was fairly sure I wouldn't be around to carry them out."

"You did great," Hermione said smiling, "but I wouldn't get too cocky just yet, there's still the little problem of a hundred Death eaters and Lord Voldemort to contend with."

"Where is the Dark Lord himself? I thought he might at least try to stop us sullying his little ritual."

"I don't know, and somehow, that scares more than if he were actually here," Hermione said looking around at the battlefield.

Ron looked too. It was just like his vision. He could vaguely hear shouts and pick out the odd flash of light, but in reality, he felt less connected now in the fight for real than he had done in his dreams. Ironic really.

In the distance, towards the cliff edge, he could see a group of Death Eaters backing slowly away from a large, vicious looking wolf. Professor Lupin. Back towards the church there were more lifeless bodies, indistinguishable from this distance.

"Oh my God," Hermione whispered, and Ron turned his gaze back to the brunette.

"What is it?" Ron asked as he crouched down next to Hermione who was looking at Kristine's neck intently.

She threaded her fingers around a thin silver chain and pulled out the charm that was held by the necklace. A small silver dragon. It looked like the charm wanted to shine brightly, but the ability had been taken away from it, instead there was the apparent black tint. Suddenly Hermione grasped the dragon and yanked the chain so it broke away from Kristine's neck.

Next she walked over to Draco and repeated the gesture so she was now holding two silver necklaces, the perfect mirror images of each other.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ron asked bemused.

"They're soul-mates," Hermione said quietly in disbelief.

"Hermione, I don't the faintest bloody clue what you're taking about, so can you stop being your usual cryptic self and explain this to me."

"Kristine and Malfoy, they're soul-mates," Hermione explained, "These necklaces, I wasn't sure at first, they must have transfigured them into dragons, but they're the product of an incantation that reveals the link between peoples spirits. Soul mates are rare, really rare. It's not like fairy tales where everyone is destined for one person, only some people, old souls, develop true, unconditional love binds, so strong they survive death into the next life."

"Wow," Ron said in awe of the vastness of Hermione's knowledge, "I figured they were just being melodramatic."

"You knew!" Hermione accused.

"Oh, well, umm..." Ron stuttered, "yeah, I knew."

"They're really a couple, like, when they're not trying to kill us. When they're relatively normal Hogwarts students they're all...coupley?"

"Yep," Ron nodded, "It's totally icky, but there you go. Now will you please explain the relevance of these necklaces?"

"I think I can reverse the Ateranima spell," Hermione said.

"What!" Ron exclaimed, "Really? You can do that?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly, "If they're connected, then we only have to free one of them, and the other one will be automatically released."

"Okay," Ron said slowly, "but we don't know how to free one of them."

"It's a long shot," Hermione said, "but I think that if we can get Kristine to..."

Hermione was abruptly cut off as she went flying through the air and smashed into the silver podium, falling into a limp heap on the ground.

Ron was so focussed on Hermione's unmoving body that he didn't notice that Kristine was now fully conscious and on her feet. The magical binds clearly couldn't hold against Vampire strength. Kristine struck Ron about the head with the hilt of her dagger and he too fell to the ground.

"Too easy," she said to herself brushing the dust off her coat.

*

"Come on Harry," Ginny pleaded to Harry's unconscious form, "wake up. We need you."

Ginny had used healing potions on Harry's cuts and had poured a blood replenishing potion down his throat, but still he didn't wake up. She cradled his head on her lap and tried not to look at the battle going on around her.

She had been relieved to see Ron re-emerge from his magic proof bubble alive and with an unconscious Kristine. Hermione seemed to have Draco under control as well. All they needed was Harry to wake up, and that was beginning to look very unlikely to happen in the next few minutes.

"Please Harry," Ginny whispered as she stroked his hair, and then she bent down and kissed him lightly on the lips.

As she reopened her eyes she was astonished to see him smiling weakly back at her, his eyes open. Awake.

"Harry!" she exclaimed with joy, "You're alive, you're alright!"

"I wouldn't go that far, but yeah, I'm alive anyway. It's good to see you Gin," Harry said still smiling.

"Can you stand?" Ginny asked tentatively.

"I don't know," Harry replied, "I'll try," and so Harry struggled into a sitting position and Ginny helped him to his feet.

No sooner was he standing did a figure land not ten feet away. Hermione. Before Harry had time to react, Ron was attacked and then Kristine was in front of him.

"Get lost Little Bit," Kristine said callously to Ginny, "or I'll have to hurt you."

"You don't scare me," Ginny spat back.

"Then your even more stupid than I thought," Kristine said.

Harry grabbed hold of Kristine's wrist as she raised it to strike Ginny. He looked her sharply in the eyes.

"Ginny, go and make sure Hermione is alright. I'll be fine," Harry said.

Ginny hesitantly looked between the pair and then ran to Hermione's side.

"That was possibly the most idiotic thing you've ever done Potter. You know you can't beat me," Kristine said.

"I'll remind you of that as I beat you senseless," Harry said, but the edge was taken away by the fact that he was obviously still weak.

"Everyone's gotten so mean," Kristine said sulkily, but she was grinning, Now then, lets see if we can't undo the handiwork of the redheaded witch shall we."

Harry ducked as Kristine slashed with the blade, but she recovered quickly and took another shot, this time slicing the skin under his right shoulder. She caught hold of Harry and pulled the knife to his throat.

"I hope you realise how pathetic that was," she said, "not that I'm complaining. I'll let you in on a secret before I kill you," she whispered in his ear, "ever since I tasted your blood, I've just been craving for another bite," and with that, she sliced the side of his neck with the knife and began to drink.

It was an odd sensation Harry thought fleetingly. Had a real Vampire been drinking his blood it would have been much more hungrily and he would be dead within seconds. Kristine wasn't a real Vampire though. It felt like she was giving him a painful kiss. Suddenly she pulled back and gasped, letting Harry go.

Harry watched in shock as Kristine dropped to her knees and keeled over gasping for breath. He went straight to her side without thinking and placed a hand on her forehead. She was warm.

Hot sweat pasted her face and Harry watched in amazement as her hair bled black ink onto the grass revealing the familiar golden honey colour. A light switched off behind her eyes and ocean green swam in her sockets.

Harry was unexpectedly knocked back by what could only be described as a black ghost that soared out of her mouth, and shot across to Malfoy's limp form. Harry was suddenly aware that across the land, something similar was happening to Malfoy as a silver-white ghosted rose out of his shivering form. The two ghosts swirled together then ascended into the night sky, then dissolved with a scream into nothing.

Harry saw that Malfoy was stirring into consciousness, but his attention was snapped back to Kristine as she lay deadly still.

Harry stoked her forehead not knowing what to do, but then her eyes fluttered open and looked into his. In an instant she had flung her arms around his neck. She was muttering, and all Harry could make out as he held her rigidly were the words 'I'm so sorry' repeated over and over again.

Harry pulled away from her and looked at her tear-streaked face. It was really her.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Kristine said, "I don't know what else to say. I'm so, so sorry."

Harry silenced her with a finger on her lips.

"Don't," he said, any anger he might have felt gone by the joy of having her back.

Kristine then seemed to sink back into the reality of where she was, and leaped off the ground and sprinted over to Draco who was slowly stirring.

"What happened?" he murmured as Kristine helped him sit up.

"I don't know," she said, "and it doesn't matter right now. We've got to fix this Draco," she said desperately looking around at the battlefield.

Someone coughed from behind Kristine and she spun around to see a tall red head towering above her.

"Are you two quite finished with the massacring?" Ron asked grinning.

Kristine let out a short sad yelp of laughter as Ron helped them to their feet.

"Ron, I..." Kristine stared, but Ron cut her off.

"Not now," he said, "this isn't over yet. I'm going to check on Hermione, and then we're going to finish this war once and for all. I think it'd be best if you two went back to Hogwarts. Can you Apparate?"

"We're not leaving!" Draco and Kristine exclaimed together.

"Glad to hear it," a drawling voice said.

The three of them turned to come face to face with Lucius Malfoy.

"Go and look after Hermione and Harry," Draco said, not shifting his gaze from his Father's hostile arctic eyes.

"I'm not leaving you," Kristine said defiantly.

"Yes you are Kriss," Draco said in a tone that prevented any argument, "It's time to make that prophecy come true."

Ron took hold of Kristine's arm and she reluctantly left Draco and Lucius alone. The atmosphere between Father and Son seemed to have created its own sub-zero climate.

Draco stood facing his father.

"I really don't want to banter," Draco said almost whining, "Can we please just fight so I can kill you."

"You'd kill your own father?" Lucius said calmly.

"Well, are you going to help me and the others to kill Voldemort?" Draco said.

"They will fail and they will never accept you," Lucius said.

"If they fail then they'll never have to accept me will they!" Draco said, "and I thought I told you I didn't want to banter."

"Fine by me," Lucius said, and he raised his wand, a sickening grin playing on his lips.

*

"Is she alright?" Ron asked Ginny looking worriedly at Hermione who was nursing a minor haemorrhage on the back of her head.

"I'm fine," Hermione growled, not liking being spoken about as if she wasn't there.

Harry, Ginny, Kristine and Hermione had crept away from the battle and Ginny had set up a magical haze around them so they could talk without being spotted.

"Is she evil?" Ginny asked Ron.

"I'm not evil," Kristine replied.

"Is she evil?" Ginny asked again.

"She's not evil," Ron assured her, "Didn't you see the spooky light show her and Malfoy put on?"

"I'm sorry, I missed it, I was a little busy dealing with your girlfriends battered head!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Look," Kristine snapped, silencing everyone as she become reminiscent of the Vampire she had been moment before, "you have no idea how bad I feel about all this, but now is not the time for me to go off on a guilt trip. People are dying, and its all my fault. We have to stop this."

"Harry, do you feel up to fighting?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded confidently; knowing that the adrenaline he felt coursing through his healing body would sustain him.

"We need to find Voldemort," Harry said, noting that for the first time Kristine flinched at the name.

"He just sort of...vanished when the Order appeared. I didn't see where he went," Ginny said.

"He'll show himself soon enough," Harry said getting up, "We have to go into the fight."

Ginny stood up and pulled something out of her robes. Harry hadn't seen a bulge; it was as if the object melted into the fabric concealing itself. When Harry recognised what the object was, he wasn't surprised he hadn't known it was there.

The sword of Godric Gryffindor.

The long silver blade glinted in the moonlight and the engraved name of its original owner gleamed. Rubies encrusted the hilt and Harry knew how light it felt in his hand, and how deadly it could be. He had killed a Basilisk with that sword in his second year.

"Why have you got that?" Harry said taking the sword from Ginny.

"We have something to tell you," Ron said carefully, looking towards Hermione for support. Neither of them was sure how Harry would take this news.

"Harry," Hermione said, "That sword can only be wielded by its rightful owner. The true heir of Gryffindor."

"That's nonsense," Harry said, "I mean I've used this sword before and didn't have a problem with it."

Hermione looked intently at Harry, willing him to understand. His eyes widened and he stared at the sword.

"Didn't you ever wonder why Voldemort came after you in the first place?" Ginny asked softly.

"I'm," Harry stammered, "I'm the heir to Gryffindor?"

"The one and only," Ron said, "and if my visions are correct then the heir of Gryffindor sticking that sword into the heir of Slytherin will have catastrophically fantastic consequences."

"Are you sure?" Harry said, obviously doubtful, "I mean, this is Voldemort. He's not exactly a normal Wizard. Are you sure that a simple sword through the gut will kill him?"

"Probably not," Ron said, "but that sword pushed through his gut by your hand should do it."

"The spell he did in our fourth year Harry, he took your blood and it made him mortal. Well," Hermione corrected, "Less immortal anyway. He can be killed by mortal means."

Harry looked at the sword. Kill Voldemort. The thought had plagued him ever since he found out how his parents had really died. Revenge, that had been his first thought. Justice had been his second. Then murder. Killing another man, even if that man was evil to the core, he, Harry Potter, would still have murdered him. Would he be able to cope with that? Could his conscience allow him to commit such an act?

He mentally cursed his noble Gryffindor blood.

"You're not going to be doing this alone Harry," Kristine said, "but it has to be done. You know it does."

Harry nodded.

"I know, but there is still one little problem," Harry said.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"We have no idea where he is."

"Not a problem," Kristine said getting up and breaking the spell concealing them.

She peeled off the glove that covered her left forearm and revealed a symbol that made the rest of the group gasp. She ignored them and covered the Dark Mark with her right hand. She muttered an incantation and Harry noticed her grip on her arm grow a little tighter as the spell took effect.

"He's nearby," Kristine said, "Somewhere near the church I think."

"Lets go," Harry said prompting the others to get moving.

It was time.

*

Harry and Kristine crept through the graveyard of the gothic church. At Harry's request, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had taken a group of casualties back to Hogwarts via the Portkeys nearby. Amongst the injured party were Charlie Weasley and Tonks. Alastor Moody's finally defeated body was being carried on the back of a limping werewolf.

In the distance Kristine had seen Draco duelling Lucius, and it had taken all of her restraint to stay with Harry. She wanted to be with Draco so badly it ached inside, but she knew that the right thing to do for now was to stay with Harry.

They were both focussed on the mission at hand. It kept their minds occupied and prevented the dreaded conversation that they would eventually have to have. There was so much to take in. Everyone knew about her and Draco, but that was the least of Kristine's worries at the moment. She kept seeing all the bodies that had fallen by her hand. Ron's stuck out most vividly amongst the mass, but another man was also prominent in her mind.

"I think I heard something," Harry whispered, forcing Kristine's thoughts away from her impending guilt trip.

Kristine put an ear to the large door that was the entrance to the ancient gothic church. The architecture of the building looked like something out of Salem. Very anti witchcraft and very pro routine hangings. The church had stain glass windows depicting some extremely graphic wrathful scenes. On the upside, it looked old and abandoned, so they were unlikely to find any masochistic priests inside.

"I think there's someone in there," Kristine whispered, listening intently, "Let's go," she said.

Harry quietly pushed open the large oak doors a crack, but stopped when Kristine let out an audible gasp. He turned to just in time to see her fling her arms around the neck of a very worn looking Draco Malfoy.

Kristine pulled away and seemed to loo the blond over. He was bruised and battered and his clothes were stained with mud, but he seemed intact.

"Draco," Kristine said softly, her hands resting on his shoulders, his hands round her waist, "did you..."

Draco nodded, but didn't look like he wanted to pursue the matter further.

They looked at each other for a moment, and seemed to come to some sort of agreement. Kristine turned back to Harry and there was a horrible moment of awkward silence. Harry clearly didn't like Draco and the scowl on his face told her plainly that he really didn't like seeing Kristine with him.

"Harry, do you trust me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," Harry replied a little confused.

"Give me the sword," she said.

Harry looked hesitant, but handed her the sword hilt first. Kristine slid the weapon carefully under her coat and it magically concealed itself. Kristine then slid out her dagger, with its bloodstained blade.

Harry watched mystified as Draco took out his wand and pointed it at Kristine's hair, which immediately returned to a haunting black. She swung the door open fully with a crash and caught Harry around the neck, dagger in hand.

A solitary figure at the altar of the church spun majestically and looked upon the trio with glittering red eyes.

"I have a gift for you Master," Kristine said, her tone frozen with its coldness.

Lord Voldemort swept between the pews with astounding grace, as if his feet didn't even touch the earth. He towered above them and looked at Harry hungrily.

Kristine pushed Harry down to his knees and removed the blade from his throat. She walked casually to stand next to the dark lord facing Harry, whist Draco remained behind Harry. She winked.

Harry suddenly understood their plan and looked up at the man that had murdered his parents, doing his best to look weak as Draco gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Hiding away in a church during the final battle," Harry mused, "Not where I would have expected to find you, but I guess you're just full of surprises."

"Ah, that famous Gryffindor wit," Voldemort drawled, "I had so hope to make your death to meant something, but I'll settle for your blood spilling on this floor. Should match the decor."

Kristine took her opportunity and placed her right palm on Voldemort's back.

"Crucio," she muttered.

The spell didn't do much, but it did enough. In the moment of pain and shock Voldemort felt Kristine grabbed the sword and threw it hilt first towards Harry. Without even thinking, Harry caught the sword in his right hand as Draco pulled him to his feet, and Harry plunged the blade through Voldemort's torso.

He pulled the sword out and stood back in amazement.

The blade dripped with green tinted blood and Voldemort fell to the ground, a look of pure shock on his face.

Green light emanated from the wound, dim at first then brighter and brighter until Harry, Draco and Kristine had to shield their eyes and look away. The image was similar to that of the black ghost leaving Kristine's body, but this ghost was pure energy, green twisted with black, pure evil and pure Slytherin.

Harry waited for the energy to disperse, become nothing in the ether, but the Dark Lord had one more deed to perform before his banished from the mortal coil. It must have been a backup spell, in case the unthinkable should occur. A sort of protection from ever being truly gone, because as the energy became more concentrated, it focussed on two spots, and soared uncontrollably into the Dark Mark residing on Kristine and Draco's left arm.

They collapsed lifeless to the ground.