▎AMOUR ▎
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR ━━ The ending Battle of Hogwarts
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SHE WAS TOLD NOT TO GO. For her safety, because she was too young. But now she had lost two people she loved. Remus and Tonks were gone forever now. There was no way to bring them back. And if she managed to live through this battle and go back home, what would she tell Andromeda? How could she, without crying tell her that her daughter and son in law died tragically? Poor Teddy, now an orphan without even knowing.
When he grows up, he won't remember the memories he made with his parents until he'd go looking for them. Lyra wouldn't allow that, when Teddy grows up he will know who exactly his parents are. And what they died fighting for.
Lyra felt as though she was breaking apart, Ginny being what held her together. "They shouldn't be laying there," she croaked. "This whole battle. . .Now they won't even know if we're going to win or not."
"We will, in honour of them."
"How do you know?" asked Lyra, sounding hopeless. Ginny wiped the tears from her face, her eyes more brilliant than ever.
"The good guys always win in the end, don't they?"
"They didn't," Lyra pointed out sadly, as her eyes drew back at the corpses. Ginny covered them with the cloth. "Why does this keep happening to me, Gin? Why do all the people I love leave me?"
"Hey, Ly. I'm not going to leave you, your aunt isn't, Nat and Zay, my family; we all love you and we'll be here for you," she promised her.
"Severus didn't. He left me to serve him, the one responsible for all of their deaths."
Lyra saw how Ginny clearly didn't know how to respond, offering to grab her some water instead. She watched as her girlfriend passed Ron and Hermione, they began whispering and the twins soon joined. Then, Fred and George went to Madam Pomfrey who pointed at the excess cloth on the ground.
"Where are they going?" Lyra accepted the water Ginny gave her. "Is it to get Severus? He's dead, isn't he? V-Voldemort killed him, Sev knew he'd die one day. The last thing I asked him was why he let him control him. Take three guesses what he told me."
Ginny couldn't say anything. Lyra sniffed, drinking the rest of her water. "He said, if he didn't The Dark Lord was going to kill him. He knew there'd be a day it would happen. When he died, he predicted it. I hate him for doing that to himself. Why did he do that?" After she spoke that sentence, Ginny's comforting arms wrapped around her once again. Lyra hadn't expected to cry. She thought it would happen if she saw his dead corpse, but knowing Severus foresaw his death was the dealbreaker.
The twins placed his body down with the adults. The Slytherins that were present all stared at shock. There were eyes on Lyra, though they quickly averted their gazes to whoever they were helping or grieving.
"Hey, little one," she heard from above her. For some reason, Lyra's mind convinced her it was God and she somehow died. It turned out to be Theodore Nott, his blue eyes still bright even after seeing so much. "I think you and I should sit somewhere else."
Ginny gave him an appreciative nod, kissed Lyra and went to her family who were whole again. Lyra followed Nott to a corner of the Great Hall. There they sat down. "I saw my father die right in front of me today."
Mr Nott was dead? There were many who thought he wouldn't live long because of his age. He was older than Abraxas, but they were still friends. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologise," Theodore told her with a smile.
"It's what people say when someone dies, don't they? What does it even mean?"
"I've got no idea. Don't like hearing it. He was one of the people I didn't want to die, he's also the only person who did. But the others didn't, you, Natalie, Blaise, Draco. They're all alive."
Lyra looked at him. "You saw Draco?"
"He was looking for you. He needed to 'take care' of something first and find you, then he randomly asked if Blaise and I'd seen Vince & Greg and left. But I see he found you." Theo pointed at the necklace around Lyra's neck. "I know he hates them so I knew it wasn't his."
Lyra took it off, examining it for the first time. This wasn't hers. She didn't recognise the engraving nor the way it felt on her neck. This was from someone else. Why did he give her someone else's jewellery? "It's not mine." She handed it to Theo. "Do you recognise it?"
"No," said Theodore, examining it. "Did you notice this can open?" The necklace's heart opened and inside was a piece of parchment. "Perhaps this is the reason he wanted you to get it." He handed it to Lyra.
She unrolled the parchment, and used Engorgio to make it readable. Then finally, she began to read the letter. It was from Abraxas, written a few days before he died.
July 30th 1996
My Dearest favourite granddaughter,
While I'm writing this, I'm sneezing sparks and getting medicine that doesn't work injected into me. The doctor advised me to sleep. I think you know me well enough that I still do what I am not allowed to.
"Screw the rules," you once said and I wholeheartedly agree.
When I was younger, I hated following the rules, just like any other adolescent. There were the obvious ones: "Don't associate with the wrong kind!"(Didn't follow in the slightest.) "Marrying someone who isn't on the list is forbidden!" (Would've lost my head like those house elves in the Black family house.) "Don't you DARE go to the muggleworld!" (Wasn't planning to go.) And bla bla bla.
Me, being the perfect, obedient Malfoy heir followed most of them and became a person I'm still ashamed of today. Even though I can't process the fact that you're willingly friends with muggleborns, you have got a nerve I'm jealous of.
Remember when I told you about Roisin this Christmas? It wasn't the adorable and soppy romantic story I made it out to be. When we first met, my inner snob came out which made her snap at me.
However, after some great character development (if I say so myself), I saw something in her I never thought I would. I saw a woman I wanted to be with.
"Why did he write this?" Lyra wondered out loud.
"Why did you write this?" You may be asking as off right now. (I cut your umbilical cord, I know you better than you think.)
There aren't any rules in love, a loophole doesn't exist. You can fall in love at the most random moments. The person is sometimes the last one you think off.
My advice for you is to ignore the silly rules and don't give up on Ginevra, okay? I assure you that it will go well. And you can always come to me whenever you fight, I really miss the times when Lucius would cry about your mother not wanting him.
(Don't tell him that.)
From his very uncomfortable bed,
The grandfather everyone hates to love,
Abraxas Malfoy.
PS: Tell that child of mine to get me more comfortable cushions because I think they'll kill me faster than the Dragon Pox.
☆
The hours that passed since she read the letter felt like ten dreadful years. Not much happened, most people were recovering and grieving. An endless cycle for not only this night but the ones which followed.
This silence was all ended when Lyra heard a heartbreaking, "NO!" from McGonagall. She ran outside, seeing why her Professor made this sound. The Death Eaters were back, spread out in a line facing the open front doors of the school. Lying dead in Hagrid's arms was Harry. Realisation struck Lyra.
They had won.
The laugh of Bellatrix cut through like glass. Lyra's anger was boiling up. How could she laugh after everything she'd done? How could someone be so heartless?
The open doorway filled itself with more people, and see the truth of Harry's death for themselves. He stood in front of him, stroking Nagini's head with a single white finger.
"No!"
"No!"
"Harry! HARRY!"
Lyra was at a loss for words, not being able to scream like the others. The crowd of survivors began, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eaters, until —
"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"
Harry was lowered onto the grass. "You see?" Voldemort strode backward and forward right beside the place where he laid. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"
"He beat you!" yelled Ron, which caused the defenders to shout and scream again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.
"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," replied Voldemort with relish, "killed while trying to save himself —" He broke off: a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain. Neville had broken free of the crowd and charged at him.
Voldemort threw his wand aside and laughing. "And who is this?" he wondered, speaking in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"
Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"
"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.
"So what if I am?" barked Neville loudly.
"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."
"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.
"Very well," hissed Voldemort. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it."
Voldemort waved his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, the sorting hat flew through the half light and landed in his hand. "There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School."
"There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"
He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto his head. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.
"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.
Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move.
Then many things happened at the same moment. They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries.
At the same time, a giant came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" Grawp cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants: They were bigger, running at the smaller giant like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.
In one swift motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle. The sword of Gryffindor. Though no one could hear it, slash of the blade drew every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet —
"HARRY!" Hagrid shouted. "HARRY — WHERE'S HARRY?"
In the chaos of it all, the body of Harry had disappeared. Many people looked around, though couldn't for long as the battle had started again.
The centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants's feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them; now the defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle.
Lyra did everything she could, shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater that faced her, which turned out to be successful.
Voldemort was across from where she was, firing spells from his wand as he backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right. Bellatrix was still there, doing what her master told her to. But her sister wasn't, nor were the rest of her family. Instead she heard Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, screaming names. Their children's names.
Lyra ignored the calls. She couldn't believe they only cared when she was about to die. They could leave like cowards, but Lyra was not going away with them. Instead, she ran to Ginny and the other girls. They were against her aunt, who laughed gleefully as Lyra joined.
"Not running away with mummy and daddy? Brave girl. Sadly Cissy won't see her little girl again." And as a madwoman (which she was), she began shooting killing curses at them. The last one missing Ginny by an inch.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger. "OUT OF MY WAY!"
Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from their wands, both were fighting to kill. "No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"
Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, Bellatrix and Molly.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, skipping as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as her stupid brothers?"
"You — will — never — touch — our — family — again!" screamed Molly.
Bellatrix laughed exhilaratingly.
Her curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, then she toppled.
The crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed. McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as his fury at the death of his last, best follower exploded with the force of a bomb. He raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.
"Protego!" yelled a voice. The Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.
The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid. Silence fell abruptly and completely as the wizards looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.
"I don't want anyone else to try to help. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
Voldemort hissed, red eyes wide. "Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," Harry answered simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."
"One of us?" jeered Voldemort. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other. The whole hall watched in silence as the conversed. Lyra felt Ginny's hand entwine with hers, and she squeezed it just a bit.
"Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"
"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"
"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled. Lyra started feeling dizzy. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people —"
"But you did not!"
"— I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"
"You dare —"
"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"
Voldemort did not speak, prowling in a circle.
"Is it love again? Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter — and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"
"Just one thing," said Harry.
"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"I believe both."
Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall. "You think you know more magic than I do?Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"
"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."
"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"
"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."
"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"
"You thought you did," corrected Harry, "but you were wrong."
For the first time, the crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.
"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"
"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," Harry agreed, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."
"What childish dream is this?"
"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"
Lyra saw his Patronus once, a doe. She wondered why it took the shape of it. Severus had not replied then, saying that he doesn't understand either. He did.
Voldemort did not answer. "Snape's Patronus was a doe," continued Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"
It made sense to Lyra now. Lily Potter was the woman he once loved. She was the doe, his favourite flower. The reason he helped Harry, why he knew he'd die. It was a sacrifice. His last sacrifice.
"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him —"
"Of course he told you that but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"
"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, letting out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy — I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"
"Yeah, it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done. . . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle. . . ."
"What is this?" Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this.
"It's your one last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left. . . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . . Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . ."
"You dare — ?"
"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."
Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped a wand Lyra recognised all too well. Draco's. The one he stole back at the Manor.
"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."
"He killed —"
"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. . . ."
Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly.
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."
Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone. "But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . . ."
"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."
Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, the eyes of everyone in the Hall fell upon it. "So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
Like a sign of something above, the edge of sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. Just how the light hit both of their faces at the same time, did they point their wands at each other and yelled their spells.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The bang was like a cannon blast, the golden flames that erupted between them, at the center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Voldemort's green jet met Harry's, the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning through the air toward him.
Harry caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. He hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty.
"Lord" Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse. He died in a way he didn't, like a simple mortal. Not the god he made himself out to be.
One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around as the screams, cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him.
As Lyra wrapped his arms around him, she whispered. "It's over now. We can go home."
"Where is home?" asked Harry.
"You can live with us," she replied. "With Andromeda and Teddy."
"Like a family?"
"Yes, like a family." And Lyra was happy to see him smile again.
ᗩᑌTᕼOᖇᔕ ᑎOTᗴ:
pt 2!!!!
(i did change two lines because well, in this version fred doesn't die)
next chapter will be or the epilogue or a weasley x malfoy family dinner depending on my mood.