Author's Notes: I'll be skipping a chunk of the battle for the same reasons I've skipped other sections of this story.
Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Fifteen
It was almost done. The diadem was ruined, the piece of Voldemort's soul that had defiled it was dead. Now all that remained was the snake. The castle shook around Heather, Hermione, and Ron as they ran down the marble staircase. War was all around them as Hogwartians and Death Eaters fought individual duels, every one of them to the death. Already bodies had fallen, much as Fred's had two floors up. Heather pushed that thought aside. She couldn't mourn the dead until her job was done. Voldemort had the snake with him, safe and protected, waiting in the Shrieking Shack. It was on Hermione's insistence that she had looked into his mind to find him.
They were crossing the hall through the midst of the battle under the cloak. Try as they may their feet and ankles showed, but no one noticed. That is, not until a snargaluff pod landed on Ron's head.
"There's someone the-!" shouted a Death Eater, pointing at the floating pod. Hermione stunned him before he could finish his statement. With a scream, Lavender Brown fell, injured or dead Heather wasn't sure. Howling in delight, Fenrir Greyback charged forward, intent on mauling her.
"No!" shouted Hermione, throwing him backwards with a curse. He slammed into the Hufflepuff hourglass and lay there still, half buried in diamonds.
No longer able to get through on stealth, Heather pulled off the cloak and sprinted towards the double doors. Both had been blasted apart and hung lopsidedly from their hinges. From the darkness outside, a swarm of acromantula swept in, cascading through the wide doorway and climbing through holes in the walls. There were more screams and for a brief moment both sides of the furious battle were united in keeping the spiders off of them. Over the sounds of spells and shouting, Heather could hear Hagrid running towards the mass, almost pleading that no harm come to the spiders. He dove into the swarm and was lost to sight as it retreated under the onslaught of spells.
"Hagrid!" cried Heather, who made to follow but was cut off on the steps outside by the arrival of a giant. Heather had never truly appreciated just how undersized Grawp was until this very moment. Twenty feet tall and carrying what looked like a piece of a Quidditch goal hoop, it roared and swung its makeshift club. Heather, Hermione, and Ron dove for cover. There was another roar and Heather looked up to see Grawp himself, lumbering into view from around the castle, bellowing a challenge.
The giant distracted, Heather grabbed Hermione and Ron and pulled them towards the open grounds. All around them hexes and jinxes still flew as small knots of defenders and Death Eaters fought ferociously. The dark mass of spiders was still visible, moving with all haste back to the edge of the forest. As they chased, Heather's breath caught in her chest. Prowling the edge of the trees, unseen but sensed, were dementors. From how cold it had just gotten, there had to be over a hundred.
"Heather, we can't." said Hermione, gasping for air.
"She's right mate" added Ron, "We've got to get the snake. Hagrid's...he'll be alright."
Every part of Heather wanted to ignore what they were saying and go to battle with dementors and spiders. That was a battle that she felt she at least had a chance of winning. How was she ever going to get the snake? It was hopeless. The grief of the last few hours that had been building up behind her emotional dam seemed to encapsulate her as the dementor's chill took hold. There wasn't any point in fighting any longer.
"Expecto Patronum!" shouted several voices from the darkness. Rushing forwards came a fox, a hare, and a boar, ghostly white and bringing with them the early summer warmth the night still held. Heather gasped as her ability to breathe found itself again. Focus said the small voice in her head. Right, she had a job.
"Let's go" she said, turning to Hermione and Ron.
Dodging around another giant who scattered defenders and Death Eaters alike, they sprinted across the sloping grounds towards the dark shape of the Whomping Willow. Using a twig, Ron prodded the small knot that froze the tree. Both he and Hermione argued that it should only be they who go, they were expendable, but Heather wasn't willing to waste time. She scrambled down into the hole and began to crawl, letting the two of them follow if they wanted too. She was larger than she had been at thirteen, and anything besides sliding along on her front was impossible.
After what felt like an hour, the tunnel began to rise and Heather found herself at the hidden entrance into the Shrieking Shack. It was mostly blocked by what looked to be a piece of the boards that had once covered the front door. Looking through a small crack, she could see a very tiny amount of what was going on in the room. Voldemort was pacing near the window, which had been blasted open in the same manner as the door, with the lights and flashes of the battle raging in the distance. Nagini floated in the corner, slithering and swirling in her protective cage.
Snape came into view, kneeling before Voldemort. "You summoned me, My lord."
"Yes, Severus. I have a problem. One that only you can assist with."
"Anything. Do you wish me to fetch Potter?"
"No." Voldemort said coldly. "This wand, does not serve me as it ought. It does not perform the wonders it should," at this he turned at stared at Snape with his red eyes, "because I am not its true master."
"I don't understand..." Snape started, but was cut off by Voldemort's high cold laugh.
"You are a smart man, Severus. You must have worked it out. You killed Dumbledore, now I must kill you."
Before Snape could move, the Elder Wand slashed through the air. Nagini's caged floated towards him and settled on his shoulders. Again and again the snake bit him, and Snape screamed. When it was done and he had fallen to the floor, Voldemort waved the wand once more, and Nagini followed him out into the night.
Unsure of why she was doing it, Heather shoved the piece of wood aside and clambered up into the room. Visually checking to make sure that Voldemort was nowhere in sight, she crouched by Snape's head. As his eyes found hers, she was surprised that the hatred and anger she had held for him only hours before were gone. Blood poured from the bite marks in his neck, and she knew he didn't have long.
"Take...them" he gasped, each word a struggle.
From his eyes flowed what Heather at first took to be tears, but then understood. She asked Hermione for a flask and was handed one. Scooping up the memories and capping the bottle, Heather felt a hand on her cheek. It was Snape. Using all of the little energy he had left; he had cupped her cheek and was guiding her gaze back to him. "You...look like...Lily" he managed. A gurgling breath later his hand fell to the dusty floor and he was dead.
Everyone jumped when a high, cold voice sounded from seemingly everywhere. "You have fought bravely. I do not wish for further violence. I order my forces to retreat for one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Lord Voldemort can be merciful. Harry Potter, you have refused to face me, letting your friends die instead. If you do not give yourself over to me in the Forbidden Forest by the time this hour has passed, I will come for you myself. Anyone who attempts to conceal or protect you from me, will be killed."
The journey back to the castle didn't feel nearly as long to Heather. When they climbed out of the tunnel back into the grounds, the silence was almost worse than the sounds of battle had been. Shapes were moving, some assisting wounded comrades back to up the lawn, others weighed down under burdens that could only be the bodies of the fallen. The Great Hall was full of light, which spilled out into the rest of the entrance hall. Heather stood next to the double doors , unsure if she really wanted to enter the packed Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey was busy at work saving those who she could. At the top of the chamber, where the staff table usually stood, was a line of bodies. The Weasleys were all gathered around Fred, who had been retrieved from the niche where his body had been hidden by Heather. Ron and Hermione moved to join them but Heather couldn't. Her eyes had found the figures lying next to Fred. Remus and Tonks looked peaceful, holding hands that niether of them could feel any longer.
Once more the damn broke and tears raced down Heather's cheeks. She couldn't take in any longer. Clutched tightly in her fist were the memories that Snape had died to give her. Snape, who had somehow known she was a girl. Whatever secrets this bottle held, even no matter what they could be, diving into someone else's brain sounded like heaven compared to the pain of the real world at this moment.
Rubble and smoke from smoldering fires filled the corridors. It seemed as though no part of the castle had been left unscathed by the battle. As she arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office, she gave the only password her ravaged mind could come up with.
"Dumbledore!"
To her surprise, the statue moved aside and revealed the entrance. Racing up the staircase, she burst through the door into the familiar room. The pensive sat in the same cupboard it always had and she poured in the memories. Unhesitatingly, she pressed her face into the liquid and was pulled off her feet.
Down through swirling fog she fell, landing in an unkempt playground. She watched as two girls, who after a moment she realized were her mother and aunt, played. After Lily took a large flying leap from a swing and flew through the air, a scrawny child that could only be Snape was discovered lurking behind a bush. He told Lily that she was a witch, and he was a wizard. The memories raced past, following Snape as he told Lily all about the wizarding world, their first trip to Hogwarts where they met James and Sirius, Snape calling her a mudblood after she stopped James from tormenting him. It all flew by in a rush, and Heather began to feel as though she saw the truth, or at least a part of it.
After a long gap, Heather stood on an abandoned hilltop, watching as a distraught Snape waited. When Dumbledore arrived with a flash of blinding light, Snape begged him to hide Lily, hide all of them. In return, he would give Dumbledore whatever he wanted.
Several memories later, after one in which Snape and Dumbledore were walking through the grounds arguing, Heather found herself standing once more in Dumbledore's office. The headmaster had just concluded giving Snape the last piece of the puzzle. The last part of her search for the horcruxes. She had a part of Voldemort inside her. In order for him to be killed, she had to let him kill her first.
"You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter." Accused Snape
"Yes" answered Dumbledore quietly. "Is this love I see, Severus? Have you come to care for him?"
In answer Snape whipped out his wand. For a moment Heather thought he was going to attack Dumbledore. "Expect Patronum." A silver doe identical to Heather's cantered around the room before vanishing. The exact same doe she had followed through the Forest of Dean.
"Lily" whispered Dumbledore, "After all this time?"
"Always." Snape turned to leave.
"He isn't really Harry anymore." Dumbledore said to his back.
"I know. She never was that good of an occlumens." Snape said, still facing the door.
"Her name is Heather."
The memory shifted; the last few answering questions Heather hadn't really known she even had. The pieces fell into place in a way they hadn't all year. Snape had known, probably since her fifth year, about Heather. Snape had been working for Dumbledore all along. He had placed the sword in the ice for her to find. He had loved her mother. And she, Heather Potter, was meant to die in order to bring down the man who had killed Lily Potter.
She looked at her watch. She didn't have much time to get down to the forest before the ceasefire was up. Pulling the invisibility cloak around her one last time, she left the office with all of it's tinkling objects and began her path towards the forest, and everything that waited for her there. The castle was still silent, just waiting, holding it's breath before the fire and death resumed. Heather had to dodge around people who were carrying the bodies of the dead into the Great Hall.
The cool breeze that flowed through the grounds felt good after the closeness of the castle. As she exited the oak front doors, she saw Neville and Oliver Wood carrying something small between them. It was Colin Creevey. Heather's heart broke afresh, remembering again the sight of Dennis being dragged from the courtroom all those months ago. She hoped with everything she had that he was alright. Wood said he could take Colin from here, freeing up Neville to go search for anyone else. Heather followed him a ways down towards the dark forest. When they were alone, she pulled the cloak off.
"Neville" she said, making him jump.
"Harry? Where are you going?"
"No where, it's all part of the plan. I need you to do something for me." Quickly he asked Neville to, if he found the opportunity, kill the snake.
Neville nodded, then said, "I heard what Luna called you earlier. We aren't giving up the fight...Heather."
"T-thanks, Neville. Niether am I." she said, turning and pulling on the cloak before he could see the small tear that had formed in the corner of her eye.
Dementors still patrolled the perimeter of the forest, and Heather knew that she wouldn't be able to fight them. Clutching the mokeskin pouch, she remembered the small snitch. The last thing that Dumbledore had left her. She extracted it, holding it close to her mouth. It opens at the close, well this was certainly the close. "I am about to die." She whispered. The snitch cracked down the middle and a small black object rolled into her hand. She turned it three times in her hand and felt the hairs on her neck rise.
Four figures stood around her in the gloom. They were each smiling at her, clearly able to see her through the cloak. Sirius and Remus both looked younger than they had in life. Heather met both their gazes sadly, wanting to apologize for their deaths. She turned and looked at her parents, not quite sure if she wanted to look directly into their eyes.
"Will it hurt?" she asked.
"No. It's just like falling asleep" said Sirius.
They all stood there in the silence, and Heather knew they wouldn't tell her to go. Before she could face what was coming though, she had to ask the question she had wanted to ask since she had discovered who she was. No, she'd really wanted to ask it since the night in the graveyard in Little Hangleton.
"Mum, Dad, I need to know, before I di-before I can do what I need to do. I am not the boy you knew before you were killed. I'm a girl, I'm Heather. I need to know..." her voice trailed off as her throat closed up, emotion choking her.
Lily moved forward, followed by James. "Heather, we love you for who you are. Nothing about that could ever change."
"You've made us so proud sweetheart," added James.
"You'll stay with me?" Heather asked, taking in all four of them for the last time.
"Till the end." Whispered Lily.
Flanked by her invisible guardians, Heather found the heart she needed in her parents' words to make that final plunge into the trees. The dementors had no effect on her, their chill kept at bay by her loved ones. She followed the path she had taken all those years ago towards the den of the spiders, each footfall feeling heavier than the last. When she faltered, all four stopped with her and gave her reassuring looks. In the distance she could see a fire in a clearing. Stealthily she approached it.
"My lord," came a low voice from near to where Voldemort stood, "there's no sign of him."
Voldemort considered this. "I was so sure he would come."
Heather stepped out from behind the tree and tucked her cloak into her jacket. As she did so the resurrection stone slipped from between her fingers. In a carrying voice that rang in the still air, she called out. "And you were right." Heads whipped around and Death Eaters sprang to their feet. Heather's wand was trapped under the cloak, she hadn't wanted to fight the urge to draw it. Voldemort was staring at her, the glittering bubble floating just behind his shoulder.
"Harry Potter" he whispered, "The Boy who Lived."
In the time that it took for him to raise his wand and aim it at her chest, Heather's mind raced. She thought of everyone she was leaving back up at the school, of Hermione and Ron, and of those she was about to see again. Then at the back of her mind came a wiggling feeling, like a bad itch. For the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts that night, she was irked at being called her old name. There was a flash of green, and then everything went dark.