Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Fifteen: The Last Battle

Disclaimer: This is it people. We’re at the end. And it’s been such a long time coming, that I don’t care whether JK Rowling sues me or not.

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

Harry awoke just in time to hear the carriages pull away from the castle, loaded with the last of the students. He listened carefully, trying to hear their gossiping voices, their laughing voices, anything, but they were all silent.

“It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?”

Harry glanced over and saw Ron, already awake, and obviously listening too. Madam Pomfrey had finally allowed him out of the hospital wing the night before, and Harry had quickly and emotionlessly told him everything, before falling into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

“I mean, I saw some members of the order poke their heads in here about an hour ago,” the boy continued, “and then duck out. I guess they’re leaving the Gryffindor dorms for us, but I bet they’ve settled in everywhere else.”

“Did you sleep at all?” Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. “Not really. But that’s not your fault- ever since the-accident, I’ve been having trouble….it’s like I want to be up at night now, like I’ve gone all notumnal.”

“Nocturnal,” Harry corrected him.

“Don’t be Hermione,” Ron squinted, making him smile. “Hey, where is Hermione anyway? I thought for sure that she’d be in overdrive by now, harping at us to start training and throwing spell books at our heads.”

Harry frowned, remembering the scene by the lake, remembering her running away from him. “I don’t know where she is. She’s not…taking it very well.”

“Oh,” Ron said quietly, and then appeared to be thinking to himself. “But she can’t think that you’re going to die, can she? She can’t think that you aren’t going to win…Harry we’ve been through this before. It’s almost like a Hogwarts tradition! Voldemort attaches himself to Quirrell’s head, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort unleashes a basilisk, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort challenges you to a duel on his father’s gravestone, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort tries to snatch that thing from the Department of Mysteries, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Do you see a pattern here, Harry?”

“You mean besides your fixation on Honeydukes?”

Ron lifted himself up on one elbow and looked at Harry very seriously. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re going to win. I know it. I’m not scared.”

Harry looked at him skeptically.

“Well, all right, I am a bit scared. Because this time, I intend to be in it, and even though you’re going to win, I might lose. You wouldn’t happen to have any of that Felix Felicis on you, would you?”

“No. And besides, I don’t know if it helps that much. We didn’t win last year, don’t you remember? And we didn’t really win in the Department of Mysteries. We lost Sirius.”

Ron looked down at his pillow helplessly, and Harry could see that he really was scared. He’d just been trying to give Harry some courage.

“Ron,” Harry said softly, and he looked up. “You said his name.”

Ron looked around sheepishly, as though trying not to smile too proudly. “Well, I might have to face him, you know? And how would that be, standing in front of him and calling him You Know Who? It’s silly, really, the whole thing with his name. I wonder what blooming idiot started it…”

Harry lay back and looked up at the ceiling. He was glad to have Ron, but he was missing Hermione. It wasn’t the same, all this talk, without her there. She should have called them down to the Common Room hours ago. Where was she?

“Do you think Luna stayed?” Harry asked.

“I know she did. She’s….she’s really brave, that one.”

“What about Neville? And Ginny?”

“They’re here I’m sure. And Fred and George as well. They poked their heads through late last night. Though at first McGonagall didn’t want to let them in. She made them empty out their pockets, as though they would try to prank Voldemort himself….she’s nutty as a bat sometimes…I mean, the only things she found were a couple of darts loaded with instant hair grow serum, and a bit of infatuation potion specially formulated for Deatheaters, no big deal…”

Harry smiled. Fred and George. And Ginny, and Neville, and Luna. His friends and allies. And of course there was Ron.

Harry swung his legs out of bed. There was someone missing from that list. And he had to go and find her.

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

Ron had been right about the order taking over the castle. There were strange and serious faces sweeping everywhere throughout the halls, many levitating suitcases behind them, others looking about as though they had no idea of where to go. Hogwarts was filled to the brim with not only every order member and every Auror, but also nearly everyone from the Ministry of Magic.

As the boys stood staring, they were nearly knocked over by a very frightened looking Fang, as he ran into their knees and then jumped up to place both paws on Ron’s chest.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron moaned, trying to avoid being drooled on. “Fang, what’s your problem?”

“I think he can sense your new, canine-ness,” Harry teased, then stopped as he saw Professor Lupin coming towards them, breathless.

“Come, boys, we’re convening in the Great Hall in five minutes,” he said, and quickly ushered them forward.

“Wait,” Harry said. “Where’s Hermione?”

Lupin glanced around as though looking for her. “I don’t know, Harry. But don’t worry. She’ll probably turn up in the Great Hall.”

“And where’s Hagrid?” Ron asked. “Why’s he letting this drooling beast run all over?”

“Hagrid is in the forest, seeing what aid we can get from the centaurs.”

“That’s a waste,” Ron mumbled. “I can tell you right now that we won’t get any help from them.”

Lupin looked at him with exasperation.

“Don’t look at me like that; you know how they are! ‘We don’t interfere in human affairs’” he mimicked in a very low, serious voice. And then he made a sound with his nose like a horse snorting.

Harry elbowed Ron lightly, trying not to smirk, and then walked towards the Great Hall.

They stopped short in the hallway, which was a mistake. Only a moment later they were pushed forward in a great wave, hearing annoyed voices say things like, ‘out of the way there!’ and ‘come on, get a move on!’. They let themselves be carried along for a few seconds, and then fought out of the current, staying as close to the walls as possible, with a trembling Fang milling between their legs.

The Great Hall was filled with witches and wizards, their black robes swirling as they sought to find space at the tables. They looked like a great flock of crows. Professor McGonagall was at the head table, but it wasn’t the other professors who were by her side. It was the members of the order.

This is our army, Harry thought, with neither hope nor disappointment. He looked over the tables carefully. He couldn’t see Hermione anywhere. He felt a moment of panic. Did anyone know where she was? Didn’t anyone realize that she could be in danger? What if she’d been taken and nobody had noticed?

“There’s Mum and Dad,” Ron said, nudging him.

Harry looked over at a nearby table and saw the entire Weasley clan, plus Neville and Luna. Even Percy was there, though he was looking more than a little bit pale. He started to follow Ron over to where they were sitting, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Professor McGonagall, and she appeared very flustered.

“Potter,” she said, glancing around the room, “we thought it might be best if you went and started your training with Professors Lupin and Moody.”

“But-” Harry started, “isn’t there a meeting?”

“Yes, but it isn’t necessary for you to be here. We’re just…getting everyone together….and….” she paused. “Well, there’s plenty of preparation to be done. But if you’d rather stay and be gawked at-”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll go. But Professor, have you seen Hermione anywhere?”

“What?” McGonagall said distractedly. “Miss Granger? Yes, I saw her this morning. She took her breakfast early and then went off…I presumed in search of you.”

“Did she look….”

“Did she look what, Potter?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, relieved that at least someone had seen her.

“Well, off you go then,” she said. “And on your way, find Alastor and ask him for his help.”

Harry squinted at her. “You’re trying to get him out of the meeting, aren’t you?”

McGonagall returned his squint through her rectangular spectacles. “Can you blame me?”

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

After two hours of defensive spells, an hour and a half of evasion spells, two hours of trying to summon up the power of his scar at will (which he still couldn’t seem to do), four hours of straight dueling, and two more hours spent being mended by Madam Pomfrey, a very exhausted Harry Potter found himself back in the Gryffindor Common Room.

If they keep training me like this, I won’t even be able to lift my wand arm when I have to face Voldemort, he thought as he paced. He refused to sit down on the sofa. The warm, inviting sofa. Because if he did, he’d be instantly asleep. And he didn’t want that, because he hadn’t seen Hermione all day.

Where was she? She couldn’t still be angry with him…and even if she is, he thought bitterly, doesn’t she realize that we don’t have that much time left? The thought suddenly made him very angry, and he was just about to go and fall asleep on the sofa out of sheer spite, when the Common Room erupted with some very Weasley activity.

Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and Luna burst through the portrait hole. Fred, George and Ginny appeared to be in high spirits, but Ron was scowling, and soon enough, Harry realized why: his hands were covered in red fur.

“Ron! Your hands!” Harry exclaimed, rushing towards him.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ron mumbled, glaring at his siblings, “It’s only their stupid instant hair grow serum.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and tried to keep from smiling with relief.

“Wouldn’t be so bad, really,” continued Ron, “except that Luna keeps on trying to curry comb my fur.”

Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing, and looked over to where Ginny was standing with Luna by her side. There was indeed a curry comb in her hands.

“She’s just practicing for the next full moon,” George laughed.

“Yeah, I bet she’s got your pink satin bows all picked out…” Fred added, and then turned and walked away.

Ron glowered after his brothers. “You just wait until the next full moon…I know who I’m going to be biting first….”

Harry smiled weakly, though part of him did wonder whether or not Ron would get the urge to give people a little nip.

“Ron,” he asked. “Have you seen Hermione?”

“No,” Ron answered thoughtfully. “Not once all day, actually. Where do you suppose she’s got off to?”

But Harry barely heard him, because he was already ducking through the portrait hole.

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

Though nobody seemed to know where Hermione was, Harry found her in the first place that he looked. In the Restricted Section of the library. But to be fair, if he hadn’t been looking, he might have missed her. She was completely obscured by stacks and stacks of dusty books. As Harry crept around the corner of the table, he saw that she was fast asleep, with her head resting on her parchment. She still had a quill in her hand.

Harry glanced over the titles piled up around her. Blourish’s Encyclopedia of Curse Removal, Magical Maladies, and Evil Magic if You Dare were just a few. The book she had been reading before she fell asleep was open to a chapter on magical extraction.

Harry brushed her hair back from her temple tenderly. She was trying to find a way to save him.

“Hermione,” he whispered, and she stirred slightly. He didn’t really want to wake her. As hard as he had worked his body that day, she had worked her mind, and she deserved the rest. Carefully, he slipped his arms around her, and pulled her away from the table, lifting her easily.

“Harry?” she muttered groggily, her head against his shoulder.

“Shush,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “We’re just going back to the Common Room. Filch would set Mrs. Norris on you, if he found you here.”

“I’m a prefect,” she mumbled, making him smile, and then she came a bit more awake as he carried her out. “No, Harry…at least….Wingardium Leviosa….”

“That’s a cop-out,” he said simply, and carried her all the way through the castle, up the stairs, and through the portrait hole.

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

“Wake up, love-birds, it’s almost nine.”

Harry blinked until Fred’s face came into focus, leaning down over the back of the sofa.

“What….Oh!” Hermione exclaimed as she saw the small crowd gathered around them as they lay curled together. She quickly drew the blanket up over her head.

Harry stretched happily. He had never slept so well. He looked around. Ron was watching them with the same expression he had worn when Harry had kissed Ginny after the Quidditch match. Fred and George were grinning. Ginny herself was looking pointedly away, and after a moment or two, she announced that she was going to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and ducked out.

“Come on Hermione,” George teased. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed…you were only sleeping….it’s not as though you were….SNOGGING!” The twins laughed grandly, and Ron made a face and announced he was going to join his sister in the Great Hall.

Hermione tore the blanket down off of her head. “Be careful George,” she warned. “After the things I’ve been reading, I could curse you in ways that you could only imagine… and none of your Wizarding Wheezes would be able to save you!”

“We’d better go,” Fred said, smiling. “She sounds as mean as Mum!”

Hermione squinted at them as they skulked from the room, and then turned to Harry.

“That was embarrassing,” she whispered. “How did we end up on the sofa?”

“I carried you,” Harry shrugged. “All the way from the library. And by the time I reached the sofa, I could go no farther. You’re quite the lump.” He laughed when she punched him in the arm. “Were you in the Restricted Section all day?”

She nodded, and then her brows knit. “But I couldn’t find anything, Harry! I searched and searched…but there’s nothing…”

“No handy ways to separate a cursed scar from one’s forehead?”

“Don’t joke,” she said seriously. “And don’t give up either.” Her expression was so determined that for a moment Harry did feel a glimmer of hope. “I’m going to go to the library at the Ministry today,” she continued. “They must have something…and if they don’t, then I’ll floo over to Beauxbatons…and I’ve already written to Viktor-”

“You wrote to Krum?” Harry said suddenly.

“Yes, but this is no time to get jealous. I was writing to him about you…as usual,” she added under her breath. “So by the end of today, I’ll have something…we’ll know something, I know it, I just have to-”

“Hermione, don’t go.”

She was quiet for a moment, just blinking at him. “What do you mean don’t go? There’s nothing here at Hogwarts, I already told you-”

“If you’re going to try the Ministry, then you may as well stay here,” Harry reasoned. “Half of the Ministry is here anyway. If you ask around-”

“But Harry, most of them didn’t even know about your scar when they came; they can’t have had proper time to research it. I’ll go, and I’ll be back this evening-”

Harry was shaking his head. Didn’t she understand? There was nothing they could do. He could feel it. All he wanted was this time with her.

But he wouldn’t get any time, he knew, if Lupin and Moody had their way. If they got their hands on him, he’d be training from dawn til dusk. He looked down at Hermione, at her busy eyes full of thought. And then he kissed her entreatingly.

“Come with me today,” he said into her ear. “We’ll take Buckbeak and go, just the two of us.”

She nibbled her lower lip uncertainly, and he wanted to kiss her again. “But Harry, what about Voldemort….he could be coming…we’re not ready…”

“Please,” he said softly. “One last ride.”

The tears rose quickly into her eyes, but she blinked them away and nodded.

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

With the amount of people milling about in the castle, it was surprisingly easy for them to slip away. Before they left, Harry found Ron and told him that they would stay close, and that they would be back soon.

“I wouldn’t worry about missing anything,” Ron said glumly. “Knowing You-er-Voldemort, he’ll be shooting dark marks into the sky for miles before he gets here.”

“Just…Be careful,” said Harry, not knowing what else to say. And then he snuck down to the pumpkin patch, where Hermione and Buckbeak were already waiting.

“I packed a bit of lunch,” she said awkwardly, indicating the bag over her shoulder.

“Great. Did you pack breakfast too? I’m starving,” he said and kissed her. “What’s the matter?”

Hermione squirmed. “This isn’t terribly responsible, Harry.”

Harry searched her face. Was she changing her mind? She couldn’t be…he needed this time with her. He needed her.

But then, to his relief, she climbed up onto Buckbeak’s back, and held her hand out to him. And a few minutes later, there was no Hogwarts. No Voldemort. No war.

Only the wind and the sky and their hippogriff. And the two of them together.

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

After diving and whirling for what could have been hours but seemed only seconds, Hermione guided Buckbeak down into a small clearing. The hippogriff nuzzled her affectionately as she dismounted, but Harry thought that he seemed a bit relieved to get them off his back. He gave Harry a light nip on the shoulder, and then trotted off into the woods, presumably to hunt chipmunks.

Hermione knelt down on the ground and began to unpack the contents of her bag: two sandwiches, some biscuits, and two jars of pumpkin juice.

“What, no butterbeer?” Harry teased. The flight had left him completely, deliriously happy. And he knew that it was all because of her. He knelt down and kissed her, making her giggle as he pushed her back onto the grass.

“I love you,” he said simply, and was horrified when her smile faded and she looked away. “Hermione? What is it?” She doesn’t feel the same, he thought, and suddenly felt cold all over.

“It’s stupid,” she muttered.

“What’s stupid?” he asked desperately.

She shook her head. “It’s just that…do you really mean it, Harry?”

“Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” He was grinning, which probably wasn’t the best thing to do in the situation, but he was so relieved by her words that he couldn’t help it.

“Well, did you ever- I mean- did you ever say the same thing to Ginny?”

For a minute Harry thought that she must be joking, but she wasn’t even looking at him. She was wearing a very serious expression, and staring off over his shoulder. For the first time he realized what it must have been like for her, seeing him with someone else.

“Hermione,” he said softly. “Look at me.” It took her a moment, but finally she turned her eyes to him. “I never loved her.”

“Really? Then what was all that nonsense about the trees by the lake reminding you of her, and Ginny this, and Ginny that, and Ginny you look so pretty in your bridesmaid dress…Oh, this is ridiculous isn’t it? Why am I feeling this way?” She hid her face in her hands, but he gently tugged them away and held them in his own.

“Because I was an idiot,” he said. “For six years I was an idiot. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face. You told me once that I wasn’t as bad as Ron, and you were right, I was worse. I couldn’t figure out that the girl who really knew me, who saved me from everything, was the one I really wanted.” He grinned at her. “I was a total git…for six years, not knowing that I was in love with my best friend-”

“And that she was in love with you,” Hermione whispered.

“I know. Looking back now it seems so obvious-”

“I wasn’t obvious!”

Harry kissed her flushed cheek. “You were obvious, Hermione. Like, anvil-obvious.”

“Anvil!” she sputtered, and then fell silent, nibbling her lip in the way that she had when she was thinking of something particularly worrisome. “Harry…do you think that…well, if it wasn’t for Voldemort…do you think we could’ve been happy together?”

“Don’t think like that Hermione. We are happy together.” And then he gasped as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

“I know. But I have to think like that, because….because you might-”

“I know,” Harry said solemnly. “We might not have much time.” He hadn’t wanted to talk about that. He hadn’t wanted it to interfere with their day, but now the full force of it fell upon his shoulders like a sack of grain. He could die. He could leave her here, alone, or worse, she could die as well. “Don’t cry,” he said gently, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself, even when he kissed her.

“You won’t die,” she said, her voice strong again. “You won’t. You can’t, not when we’ve finally gotten things together; I won’t let you.” She stared up at his forehead, her eyes shining. “I’ll get that thing off of you if I have to cut it off!”

“It can’t possibly be that easy, can it?” Harry said skeptically.

“No,” she said with regret. “And I really doubt that I would be able to cut you, even if it was.” She looked up at him. “But we will find a way around it, won’t we, Harry?”

“I don’t know, Hermione,” he said sadly. “All I do know, is that I’m grateful for what we have now. No matter how long it lasts.”

She pressed her lips to his again, opening herself to him, and he knew then that they would have had everything, had it not been for Voldemort. They would have had forever.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, Hermione.”

When he heard the blast ring out to the west, he didn’t want to look. He squeezed his eyes shut against looking, because he knew what it would be. And he hated Voldemort, just as he had always hated him as his scar began to burn.

“It’s the dark mark! Harry! He’s coming!”

At the urgency in Hermione’s voice, Harry’s eyes flew open. It was there, high in the fading sky, the disgusting skull and the protruding snake. And it was closer than he’d thought. And moving closer by the second.

“We have to go. Now!” He said, looking into her eyes. But she wasn’t looking back at him. She was looking down at their uneaten picnic, and he felt a pang as he realized that she was thinking of all the other things they wouldn’t do.

A second blast went off. It was much louder than the first, and a second dark mark lit in the sky to the south.

“Hermione!” Harry said sternly, and she finally heard him, calling out to Buckbeak as they scrambled to their feet. In seconds, the hippogriff was galloping towards them, and then they were on his back and in the sky, with Hermione yelling into his ear to go faster. Please go faster.

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

They weren’t fast enough. The Deatheaters spotted them, and sent up a flurry of hexes, and though Buckbeak dove and twisted, he was finally struck in the shoulder. Harry shielded Hermione as best he could as they spiraled toward the ground, through the trees.

“Buckbeak!” Hermione cried, and then they landed in an ungainly heap, after the hippogriff stumbled and collapsed. Harry could hear voices in the forest, and the sounds of running feet.

“We have to go,” Harry said, tugging on her arm.

“We can’t leave him, Harry! They’ll kill him!”

Harry looked up through the trees desperately. The whole world seemed filled with screams and blasts. And there was smoke rising from the direction of Hogwarts.

“They’ve already reached the castle! We have to go! Voldemort- he’s reached the castle!” He tried to pull Hermione up by the arm, who was in turn trying to help Buckbeak to his feet. “Look, you can’t lift him, he’s a bloody hippogriff- we’ll have to levitate him or something-” but at the suggestion, Buckbeak squawked and snapped at his arm.

“Harry get down!”

He just managed to duck fast enough to avoid the hex that would have taken his head off. Behind him, as though sensing the increasing urgency of the situation, Buckbeak struggled to his feet and stood wavering on three legs.

“We’ll have to make a run for it,” Hermione said.

“Too late,” Harry answered, seeing the movement in the trees. An entire legion of Deatheaters was bearing down on them. And they appeared to have giants as well. He reached for Hermione and pulled her close; she squeezed him tightly, her wand arm raised and steady. But Harry feared that all the hexes in the world wouldn’t save them now.

Just then, a volley of arrows shot out all around them. Harry could hear the cries of Deatheaters and giants alike as some of the arrows hit their marks. He turned around. There must’ve been a hundred centaurs marching through the trees, and leading them, were Bane and Firenze.

“Firenze!” Harry and Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

“Go Harry,” the centaur said, without looking down at them. “they need your help at the castle. We’ll take care of these.”

“But you-” Hermione started, “You don’t interfere with human affairs…”

“They have brought abomination into our forest. It is a ‘human affair’ no longer. We have a common enemy. Now hurry. The dark lord has laid siege to Hogwarts.”

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

“How are we going to get through?” Hermione hissed in a panic.

Frankly, Harry wasn’t sure. The castle was entirely surrounded, and there was a fierce battle going on; he could scarcely hear himself think over the cries of Auror and Deatheater alike. As he watched with growing horror, he saw a body fall from one of the top-most parapets, and felt Hermione gasp and turn her face into his shoulder as it hit the ground below.

“We have to get inside,” Harry said urgently.

“But how? We can’t just charge…we’d never make it,” Hermione exclaimed, staring out hopelessly at the struggling mass of bodies.

Harry turned to Buckbeak, who was also watching the scene with great interest. As though he could sense the importance of the moment. Harry reached out and stroked his wing.

“Harry no; he’s hurt.”

“Only his shoulder. He can still fly.” Harry turned the hippogriff’s head towards him. “You can still fly, can’t you boy?”

Buckbeak blinked at him slowly, and then tucked his wings down, just as he always did when they climbed onto his back. Harry grinned and held his hand out to Hermione, who reluctantly took it and sprang up behind Buckbeak’s wings.

“Where are we aiming for?” she asked tremulously as he climbed up behind her.

“Where ever we can get to,” Harry said. “Now hang on tight.”

Buckbeak was airborne in one quick leap, flapping hard to compensate for his injured shoulder. Of course they were spotted in no time, and Harry felt a stun pass close to his ear.

“Give us some cover!” he shouted to Hermione, but she already had her wand drawn, firing off nonverbal curses across the hippogriff’s neck. Harry followed suit, trying to keep his aim steady as Buckbeak swooped and spun. But they were close to the castle now. They were going to make it.

The landing was rough, to say the least. Buckbeak’s shoulder was very bad; he could barely keep his footing, and nearly sent them both toppling to the ground as he staggered.

Harry and Hermione dismounted quickly, and ran through the archway into the castle. From somewhere nearby, there was an enormous crash, and they could hear the sound of collapsing stone. The walls had been breached.

“We’ve got to find the order,” Harry said, and then, at the frightened look on Hermione’s face, added, “Ron and the others will probably be with them.”

“But- they’d be on the front lines…they’d never take Ron and the others there..”

“They might not be on the front,” Harry reasoned. “More likely they’re in a panic looking for me.” The two of them looked at each other levelly. Harry knew that he should feel guilty for not being at the castle when the attack came. But he just couldn’t somehow.

“If only we had the Marauder’s Map,” Hermione lamented. “Though actually it wouldn’t do much good; I forgot to put the spell back into it…oh Harry! How are we going to find them?”

Harry tried to block out the noise around them and think. And then his eyes flew open.

“Expecto Patronum!” he shouted, and his silver stag burst forth. “Find Remus Lupin!” Harry ordered, saying the first name he could think of.

The stag bounded away, and the three of them, Harry, Hermione, and Buckbeak, were fast on its heels. When they finally found Professor Lupin, it wasn’t in the condition that Harry had hoped.

“Professor Lupin! Are you all right?”

He was lying in a heap in the main corridor, just outside the closed doors of the Great Hall.

“Harry? Hermione? We’ve been looking for you….we thought that…you’d been taken…”

“I’m sorry Professor, we were-” Harry searched for words to explain, and then abandoned the attempt. “Where are you hurt? Where are the others?”

Professor Lupin looked almost too weak to talk. There were large burns in his clothing, and a line of blood was running from his forehead down into his eyes.

“He’s here, Harry,” he whispered finally, and Harry went cold all over. “He took them…all of them…”

“All of who? Took them where?” Harry searched his face for answers, shaking him lightly. He appeared to be close to losing consciousness.

“Remus!”

Harry and Hermione turned to see Tonks rushing towards them. She flung herself down beside Professor Lupin and held her hand to his head to try and stop the bleeding. “What’s happened?” she asked.

“Voldemort has taken them,” Harry answered without knowing who ‘them’ was.

“Who? Taken who?”

“Professor McGonagall,” Lupin said weakly. “and Hagrid….and Ron and Luna.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, and behind him, Hermione gave a small cry.

“Where has he taken them?”

Professor Lupin looked towards the Great Hall. “In there.”

Harry turned to Hermione. There was fear on her face, but there was something else too. He went to her, and took her in his arms.

“Harry-”

“Shush,” he said gently. “I need you to know something. Before we go-” he pulled back to look into her eyes. “I need you to know.”

“What?” she asked softly.

“You’ve always been with me. Since the beginning you were always the one. Through three headed dogs and basilisks, dragons and prophecies, and now, here at the end, you’re with me. I need you to know that I finally know what that means.”

Hermione had been listening intently, her eyes shining, but then she squeezed them shut. When they opened again, she looked as brave as he’d ever seen her.

“Do you remember everything you’ve learned?” she asked, placing both hands on the sides of his face.

“Everything I’ve learned,” he said, trying to quickly commit every inch of her to memory, “Everything you’ve taught me.”

She took his hand and stood beside him. “Then draw your wand,” she said, staring at the closed doors of the Great Hall, where their friends were in desperate need of their help. “No time like the present to be a hero.”

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

When they burst through the door they had no time to lose. Curses and hexes were flying everywhere, and from somewhere, Harry could hear Ron shouting. Scanning the room he found him, crouched over Luna, and trying to defend her against Voldemort himself. Professor McGonagall was on the other side, sending stuns at a Deatheater, apparently trying to protect Hagrid, who was lying on the ground and clutching his ribs, his wand-infused umbrella broken at his side.

Harry glanced at Hermione and she nodded, and she and Buckbeak ran towards Professor McGonagall while Harry sprinted towards Ron and Voldemort.

Ron had lost his wand. He was crouched down low between Voldemort and Luna, and his hands were clenched into fists, as though he was going to try to fight the wizard hand to hand. Voldemort was laughing, and as he raised his wand, Harry saw the tip begin to glow green.

“Avada-”

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, but his aim went wide. It didn’t matter, however, because the effect was what he intended; Voldemort turned towards him; Ron and Luna were forgotten.

“Harry Potter. I was hoping you’d be here,” Voldemort said congenially. “To witness the end of your world. And the beginning of mine.”

Harry’s heart was pounding madly. Ron was staring at him, as he gathered Luna’s body in his arms, but he appeared to be unsure what else to do. Behind them, the room was filling with people, witches and wizards fighting to the death. But on their end of the Great Hall, it was completely still. There was no one in the world besides Harry Potter, and Lord Voldemort.

“Crucio!” Voldemort shouted, his calm face twisting into a sneer.

Harry felt his body wracked with pain so intense that he barely noticed that he was being lifted through the air and flung headlong into the side of the nearest table.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough,” Voldemort was saying calmly, staring at his wand and dusting at it with his fingertips as though it had been soiled. “Really, you should thank me for allowing you to live this long.”

Harry opened his eyes to see the black feet coming towards him, the folds of his greenish black robe swishing inches above the floor. He could barely move. It had been the strongest curse he had ever endured; it felt like his insides had been liquefied. And then he was lifted off of the ground, by Voldemort’s hand around his neck.

“Do you see how strong I’ve grown, Harry?” the dark wizard said with his teeth bared. “Do you see how futile this fight is? In moments, my armies will have overrun this pathetic castle, and everyone you know will be dead. Or tortured. Or both.”

His legs dangling in the air, Harry fought for breath. He clawed at the hand around his throat, but he was quickly becoming exhausted. The light was going out of his eyes.

“Harry!”

Harry’s lids fluttered. It was Hermione, dodging through Deatheaters. His heart skipped a beat as three curses flew towards her, but at the last second she swept her wand across her chest and disappeared, sending the curses awry and reappearing several feet closer to him and still running. Great Lateo, he thought proudly, and smiled despite the pain.

“Impedimenta!” Voldemort shouted suddenly, and Hermione was thrown backwards and lay in a heap. With one final squeeze on his throat, the wizard dropped Harry, who fell struggling for breath.

“Hermione,” he tried to say, but couldn’t. Don’t touch her! He thought desperately, and felt his scar begin to burn.

“So it is true then,” Voldemort said, pulling Hermione up by the hair. She winced and resisted, but the force of his hex had made her weak.

“Young men do seek to find a girl who reminds them of their mothers,” the dark lord sneered. “This one seems to fit the bill…foolish enough to risk herself for you….and of course, a Mudblood…”

“Let her go,” Harry croaked in a voice that he hardly recognized as his own. His scar was throbbing with every beat of his heart. He was clutching his wand with renewed strength; Hermione looked so frightened, and it was enraging him.

“Thank me, Potter,” Voldemort said regally. “Thank me for letting you live and I’ll make her end pain-free.” He smiled cruelly and yanked back on her hair. Harry’s scar burned so intently he thought it would catch fire.

“You have cost me years,” Voldemort spat. “You have cost me prophecies, and pain, and an army of werewolves.”

Harry rose to his feet. The burn that started in his scar was singing through his entire body and he was no longer frightened. But he had to get to Voldemort, and Hermione was standing directly in the way. And though he didn’t have his wand pointed at her, she couldn’t get free; the wizard was too strong. He looked into her eyes, and heard her voice in his head as plainly as if she were standing right beside him.

Lateo only works if there are active curses or hexes in the air.

“Thank me!” Voldemort exploded. “Thank me for your life and hers you insolent brat!”

Harry looked at Hermione and saw her clutch her wand more tightly.

“Thank you, Hermione,” he said, his scar burning white hot. “Thank you for your brilliance.” And then he raised his wand. “Stupefy!” he shouted, sending the curse straight for her.

And just like he knew she would, she swept her wand across her chest silently, and disappeared from Voldemort’s grasp. Harry wasted no time. He bolted across the distance between himself and Voldemort, and leapt, grappling with the dark wizard and plunging his wand straight into his heart.

“Fulminate!” Harry shouted, and then his world went bright. Very bright. And then, very dark.

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

“Harry?”

Harry blinked, and focused in on the only face that he wanted to see. There were tears on her cheeks, but she was all right. He squeezed her as tightly as he could manage when she threw herself onto him.

“What happened?”

“It’s over, Harry,” he heard Ron say, and turned his head to see him. “You did it…you took out the lot of them…and Voldemort…”

“Is everyone-” Harry started, sitting up and wincing. “Where is everyone- Professor McGonagall…Hagrid-”

“He’s fussing over Buckbeak,” Hermione sobbed happily. “And Professor McGonagall is fine. She’s unconscious, but she’s fine. We- we don’t know about anyone else yet.”

Harry smiled at her, and then his vision went red as blood dripped into his eye. “Ow,” he said sheepishly, touching his forehead. His fingers followed the line of blood, to his scar. Or rather, to where his scar had once been. “What?” he said incredulously. “My scar-”

“It bloody exploded!” Ron said. “Lightning everywhere, bodies falling…it hurt my bloody eyes.”

Harry laughed with relief, and looked at Hermione.

“It’s really over,” she smiled, and kissed him.

Harry looked over her shoulder at the ruins of the Great Hall. There was smoke everywhere. And lying only a few feet away, was a charred pile of greenish black robes.

“Is that-?”

He knew that it was Voldemort by the way that everyone fell silent. He pulled himself to his feet.

What was left of the dark lord was nothing more than ashes. Just ashes left of all of the terror that had savaged the wizarding world. Harry stared down at it, and then, after a moment, kicked the pile and sent it flying.

“Thank you,” he hissed, tears for his fallen family shining in his eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a way to kill you. Thank you for giving me my scar.”

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

*****************EPILOGUE******************

Harry Potter stood by the punch bowl tugging at the collar of his dress robes. He had tied his bow tie too tight that morning, because he had been distracted by Molly Weasley’s yelling. Apparently, Fred and/or George had transfigured the ice sculpture into something extremely inappropriate. She had threatened to hex them for nearly ten minutes until they changed it back to what it had been: a delicate and flowing mermaid.

Harry looked at the sculpture where it stood in the center of the long table, spouting champagne, and smirked. It’s a good thing that Molly hadn’t looked at it too closely; it still had a long monkey’s tail.

The Burrow looked beautiful. Even more so than at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. There were flowers everywhere, enchanted to float in the air just above the heads of the guests. The tables were draped in satin and covered with candles. And on the dance floor, a girl in white was dancing with her father.

Ginny looked fantastic. Her red hair was like fire falling down her shoulders, and her dress swirled as she spun. Harry smiled. She was a beautiful bride. As he watched, a rather befuddled looking young man approached and cut in between Ginny and Arthur.

“Can’t believe she married a Muggle.”

Harry turned his head and saw his best friend, Ron Weasley, leaning against the table beside him, lazily sipping champagne. “He seems nice enough,” Harry said, looking at Ginny’s new husband, whom she had met on a trip to London two years before.

“Mum says she must get it from Dad,” Ron quipped. “Muggle lovers.”

Harry grinned and elbowed him lightly. “Where’s Luna?”

Ron nodded over to their left, and Harry saw a lovely blonde girl, wearing a very strange dress made almost entirely of feathers. She was talking very animatedly to someone Harry recognized as working for the Ministry.

“Who’s that she’s talking to?”

Ron followed his gaze. “Uh oh,” he said with a grin. “That’s Norbert Figman, the new head of the Magical Creatures Department.”

“Why’s that so bad?”

“Because she’s trying to get the Ministry to fund another one of her expeditions.”

“But they won’t?”

Ron shook his head. “I think they’re still a bit peeved about the last one…you know, when what she thought was a crumple horned snorkack turned out to be just a deformed Muggle goat.”

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. Ron and Luna had married right out of school, and ever since, they never failed to amuse everyone around them, including each other.

Luna was beginning to stomp her foot emphatically, and Mr. Figman was looking more and more uncomfortable.

“I’d better go stop her,” Ron grinned, and then he walked away to grab his wife and whisk her to the dance floor.

Harry watched them fondly as they laughed and twirled. And then he went back to tugging on his collar. If only it would stretch…just an inch or two….

“Stop tugging at that.”

“I wasn’t, I-” And then he stopped talking, because Hermione was smiling at him dazzlingly. She looked amazing in her black evening gown, a simple string of pearls around her neck. Staring at her, Harry was extremely glad that Ginny had elected not to have any bridesmaids, after Fleur made an issue over being the Matron of Honor.

He leaned in to kiss her, feeling the same warmth flow into his chest that he always felt when he kissed her, so familiar now, but no less thrilling than the very first time.

“Dance with me,” she said, taking his hand.

She moved lightly in his arms, and he held her close, breathing her in. It had been seven years since Voldemort’s defeat, since the end of the war. Six years since the last of the horcruxes had been extinguished. Four years since they had become Aurors. And Harry and Hermione had been married for three. She reached up and brushed his hair away from his forehead, where his scar used to be. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the wound left from the battle had left almost no mark at all…just a small crescent near his hairline. Barely a memory.

“Ginny’s married,” Hermione said with a smile, and Harry nodded. “Ron and Luna are married….Fred and George will NEVER marry….”

“Nor should they,” Harry said. “Poor woman…”

Hermione laughed, then grew serious. “And you and I…”

Harry kissed her softly. “Are luckier than all of them put together.” He felt his heart beat faster as she laid her head on his shoulder. “Even luckier than the woman who will never have to marry Fred or George.” He smiled as he heard her giggle.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes things do turn out all right in the end, don’t they.”

He bent his head and kissed her hair, so grateful for her, for his life.

“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes things turn out just perfect.”

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

THE END.

And that’s it. Don’t any of you give up on our favorite couple.