Fic: Call Me Conrad (15/16)
The penultimate part. With classic bad timing, I'm off to the filkcon tomorrow. You'll have to wait until Monday for the epilogue.
Title: Call Me Conrad (part 15 of 16)
Fandoms: Buffy/Hollyoaks/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Pay attention when the gods indulge in idle chit-chat in front of you. There's always a test afterwards.
"This will work," Willow said with more confidence than she felt.
They were back in the Room of Requirement, this time configured (once Voldemort's would-be junior minions had been untied and sent home) as a comfortable ritual space with a soft, raised mattress where you might expect an altar. Harry was sat on the mattress trying to reassure a worried Ron and failing just as badly as Willow. She had brought the druids in for support, and they were standing uneasily at the cardinal and intercardinal points. Hopefully they wouldn't need the spiritual safety net, but with something this dangerous and experimental Willow firmly believed in having as many backup plans as she could manage. She was all too well aware of how easy it was to get something subtly wrong, or just slightly misunderstood, and of how easily they could all be killed when that happened. That's why Professor Snape was sitting in a corner with an impressive array of potions for any eventuality.
"It's not like we've got much of a choice," Harry said, "and we won't get a better time." Voldemort's forces had retreated at least for the moment, presumably to lick their many wounds. Not that the defenders had gotten off easy; three Slayers were dead, as were a number of wizards, all of whom Harry knew of course. The Dork Lord's plan was probably to let Harry stew in those deaths until he did something stupid to stop any more happening. Which would have happened; Harry's original plan had been to get Voldemort to use the Elder Wand on him, killing the horcrux instead. That would probably have worked right up to the moment someone checked Harry's body, at which point he would have been dead for real. The ritual Willow had cooked up wasn't so sure to succeed, but she could pretty much guarantee Harry would be alive at the end of it. If nothing else, she and Xander both knew CPR.
"We'd better get started then," Josh Ashworth said with reluctance. Ron grimaced and stepped back, taking one last long look before heading back to the command post just off the Great Hall. He'd turned out to be a decent field tactician, to Buffy's delight, and she wanted him at hand in case Voldemort started anything.
Harry settled back as the eight druids moved inwards. They stopped when they had one hand each touching over the centre of both the room and Harry's body, and Josh spoke the phrases that Willow and Andrew had researched. Then all eight of them broke script and began chanting as they stepped away from Harry in a complicated weaving pattern.
"A maypole dance," Professor Snarkypants murmured. Willow could see the resemblance once he mentioned it. She could almost imagine the ribbons being woven into the net they had only talked about in abstract terms, and once she invoked the Sight she saw that was exactly what they were doing with the strands of magical power. Before long, Harry was surrounded by a large net of magic, loose enough that there was no danger of him touching it but tightly enough woven than nothing was getting in or out without the druids' at least noticing it.
"Your turn, Harry," Willow said once the druids seemed happy. "Time to summon your guides."
Harry settled his Invisibility Cloak loosely over his shoulders and with obvious reluctance put Death's Ring on his finger. The Resurrection Stone he had called it, even though it did no such thing. A few twists of the ring and four ghosts approached them. The druids shifted their dance slightly to allow free passage through their soul net.
"Mum! Dad!" Harry said brokenly as the ghosts manifested. Willow could see the family resemblance with the two ghosts who crowded around him, speaking soft words of encouragement. She recognised one of the other two; Remus Lupin, the werewolf wizard, had died only a few hours earlier alongside his wife. Their deaths had hit Harry hard. The last ghost must be Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. That veiled archway Harry had mentioned must have killed him then. A pity, Willow thought; she had been hoping to talk the wizards into letting her investigate it, but if it was just another way to die she didn't really want to know. She had seen more than enough death over the years, and knew first hand what a bad idea bringing people back was.
"At least I'll be with you," Harry said to something his mother had asked. "And the others will be able to kill Voldemort."
"Don't be too quick to join us, Harry," his father said. "We can wait. Besides, I'm counting on you for grandchildren. Have you found that someone special yet?"
"Dad!" Harry whined. He blushed, clearly uncomfortable with the teasing. So he did have a girlfriend then, Willow noted.
"Arthur and Molly's youngest," Lupin confirmed. Harry blushed harder as his parents smiled and nodded.
"Can we start the ritual now?" Harry asked plaintively.
"Just one moment," his father said. He stepped away from the group, and to Willow's surprise addressed Professor Snape. "Severus, I never got to apologise to you for my behaviour at school. I was a rude and arrogant teenager, and you were the victim of far too many of our pranks. I'm sorry I was so thoughtless. I should have known better than to treat anyone Lily cared about like that."
The professor looked like he was swallowing a lemon. Willow sympathised; she remembered Xander looking just as uncomfortable the first time Larry had treated him like a human being in public. If Cordelia had ever actually apologised for making Willow's life miserable, she would have felt the same way.
"I suppose it would be rude not to accept a posthumous apology," Snape said eventually. He still looked like he was considering being rude anyway. "Besides, Black was far worse than you."
"I was not!" the ghost of Sirius Black protested.
"Yes you were," the others said in unison. When it looked like Sirius might carry on protesting his relative innocence, Willow decided to intervene.
"Guys, I hate to hurry you, but we don't know how long His Snakiness is going to lick his wounds for," she said. It had the desired effect; Harry sighed and laid back, and the ghosts formed a protective huddle around him. They left just enough room for Willow to stand in without rudely passing through them.
"Ready?" she asked as Harry made himself comfortable. He nodded. "Remember, I can't leave your heart stopped for long or we may not be able to bring you back. Don't hang around more than you have to, OK?" Harry nodded again, and Willow found herself out of excuses.
She started by invoking Hecate, dark queen of the crossroads. She didn't need the power, Harry would be doing all the real work, but the goddess's blessing could be the difference between Harry coming back or not. Willow particularly didn't want to risk Hecate noticing the ritual and getting all huffy about not being invited.
Janus Psychopomp was next. The god of doorways might seem like an odd choice after Ethan Rayne's antics, but in this aspect he could help determine who went on to the afterlife and who stayed behind. Hopefully the end run they were doing around Voldemort's protections would appeal to his trickster nature.
Finally, Willow invoked Death. Death must heed his Master, she insisted. He could not come for Harry until Harry came to him willingly. She kept her hope quiet that Harry wouldn't be willing for a good few years yet. He was a good kid who had had a terrible childhood, and aside from dropping the hammer on Voldemort he deserved some time to enjoy himself.
Done with words, Willow reached out and touched Harry, let her magic guide his own around his beating heart. She couldn't hold it still herself without risking Harry's claim to the Elder Wand, but she could support him while he did it. Harry convulsed for a few seconds, gasping for air that wasn't doing him any good. Then he collapsed, and Willow watched his spirit separate from his body. Harry Potter was officially dead.
Willow saw Harry approach his spirit guides, the misshapen mass of the horcrux clinging to him like some demonic child. At the same time she saw Harry approaching a crossroads at which she stood, and watched as he came towards the portico she guarded. Evidently the gods she had invoked were taking an active interest this time. It was confusing, to put it mildly.
"Careful, sister," she/Janus murmured. "You don't want to break your little witch."
She/Hecate sniffed. "If she breaks, she had no business calling on us."
She/Willow kept quiet. Nothing she could say could possibly make this any easier. At least Death hadn't put in a personal appearance.
"Now what?" Harry asked. He tried to shake the whimpering horcrux off, which only made it cry out and hold on tighter. "It won't let go," he said worriedly.
Willow had been afraid that might happen since they couldn't use the Elder Wand. The beings empowering her were utterly unsurprised; since Harry was just as dead as the soul fragment, of course it could still cling on to him. "It will go where it wants to go," they intoned through her.
"Well, we'd better stop it," Black declared, and grabbed at the little beast. It was all so predictable to the gods Willow was trying not to get lost in. The men tried to rip the horcrux away from Harry by main force, using their strength and what personal magic remained to them. They failed dismally. The thing was much too strong, had much too good a hold for them to pry even a finger loose, and it screeched like it was being killed. Which in a way it was, but Willow still found the sound really unnerving. She tried to use her own magic to help, but the gods stopped her. "This is their problem to solve," Hecate said to her sternly, talking straight into her mind. "We played our part by allowing them this choice. We may not take the choice from them."
"A little advice wouldn't go amiss," Willow muttered in frustration.
"Already given, little one," Janus said cheerfully. "It's not our fault if the dimwits didn't listen."
"Stop it, all of you," Lily Potter shouted a few moments later. "This isn't the way."
She couldn't have heard Willow's internal conversation, so she must have figured out something on her own. Willow felt curiosity from Janus that turned into outright smug approval as Lily approached the horcrux, speaking softly and soothingly the whole while. She petted it and cajoled it like she would have a frightened animal, offering reassurance until its cries quietened and the little beast let go of Harry to grasp at the comfort it was being shown.
"There, there," she crooned, "it'll be alright. It's safe here, no one will hurt you." She gave the other ghosts a pointed stare until they hurriedly and rather unconvincingly agreed with her.
Harry watched his mother walk away slowly enough that the battered fragment of Voldemort's soul didn't notice. "The power the Dark Lord knows not," he murmured wonderingly. Love, Hecate observed, not bothering to hide her distaste at the sentimentality. Janus didn't mind that, and found the irony pleasing. Willow didn't need to be told how powerful love could be, not after losing Tara had driven her mad.
"What happens now?" Harry asked as the ghosts moved far enough away from his body/over the crossroads/into the portico.
"They move on," Hecate said through Willow. "You choose."
"What about...?" Harry gestured vaguely at the horcrux.
The reply was all Janus-mischief: "Oh, it gets to choose too."
Right on cue, the horcrux seemed to notice that Harry wasn't with it any more. It screeched, wriggled out of Lily's arms and bounded back towards Harry. Harry backed away rapidly, then sagged with relief when the thing hit a fence that had slid into place between them. Willow recognised the weave of the druids' net. They must have shifted it once the horcrux was clear of Harry, and did it gently enough not to be obvious in the magical landscapes.
"Clever boys," Janus said approvingly. And audibly, apparently, from the look on Harry's face. His mother simply scooped the creature back up, hushed its crying and quietly walked back to the other ghosts. The look in her eyes said that she wished it was Harry she was holding, but not a quaver of that entered her voice.
"Don't encourage the mortals," Hecate warned. "They'll forget they need us."
"They don't need us, sister," Janus replied. Willow got the distinct impression he was 'talking' for her benefit. "The sun rises without Apollo's chariot as the Earth spins. Lightning strikes without the attention of thunderous Zeus, and lights whole cities. Even the weak places don't need our attention like they used to. They're learning, sister; that was always the point."
"We should never have allowed the imposters so much time."
"An argument for another day. It's getting late."
He was right, Willow realised. Harry had been out of his body for a long time now, long enough for the ghosts and the horcrux to have passed out of sight. Time often did strange things in rituals, and Willow hoped it was doing so now. She really didn't want to find out what happened if you had serious oxygen starvation and no Slayer healing.
"I summon the spirit of Harry Potter," she began, speaking with her own mouth in the real world as the otherness began to fade around her. "By my will I call upon the power of Hecate and of Janus-"
Harry opened his eyes.
"-to bind... Oh, OK. Great Powers, I thank you for your aid today. The deed is done, the promise fulfilled. Blessed be." Willow closed the ritual and let the power dissipate, though not before she had checked that really was Harry there and he was securely stapled back into his body. She felt one last burst of amusement and cool assessment as the god and goddess withdrew, apparently happy enough with proceedings. At the same time the druids slowed, simplified and finally stopped their dance, unweaving their net and leaving everything as it had been when they began. For a moment, everything was still and silent.
"Drink this," Professor Snape ordered, striding forward and thrusting a potion bottle into Harry's hands. Harry did as he was told, grimacing at the taste and then blinking in surprise as he suddenly came fully awake.
"How do you feel?" Willow asked.
"A lot better, thanks," Harry said. He nodded gratefully to the professor.
"I meant about..." Willow gestured at Harry's forehead, not quite knowing how to put her question into words.
"Any headaches, nausea or inexplicable desires to sniff people's hair?" Xander asked. He really needed to get over the hyena thing, Willow thought.
It made Harry laugh, though, which might have been the point. "No, nothing like that," he said. "I feel... I don't know how to describe it. Lighter, maybe? Like there isn't someone constantly looking over my shoulder?"
"That figures," Josh said, smirking. "The thing that was constantly looking over your shoulder is gone."
Harry leaned back. "It's really gone," he said wonderingly.
"Yup," Willow said, aiming to join in the general humour. "Cast-iron guaranteed 100% moved on to the next plane of existence."
Harry luxuriated in the idea for a bit. "I wonder why the afterlife looked like King's Cross Station," he pondered aloud. Then he determinedly pushed himself upright. "No, never mind," he said, before Willow could start asking about what he had seen in the ritual that she evidently hadn't. "We should get back to the others. We still have to figure out how to kill Nagini."
They met Kennedy at the doors. "Get a move on," she said after giving Willow a kiss on the cheek. "Voldebork and his Merry Minions are headed up to the gates to discuss our surrender."
Harry looked a little surprised. "That's overconfident, even for him," he said.
"It's symbolic," Josh said, looking out of a hole in the wall. "It's nearly dawn, and he wants to make you think it belongs to him."
Harry smiled grimly. "Let's go and reclaim the day, then."
******
"I have no desire to spill magical blood."
Hermione didn't like to think of herself as overly cynical, but she didn't for one moment believe Voldemort's smooth words. She wasn't the only one; nobody scoffed out loud with Voldemort actually in front of them, but an undercurrent of disbelief ran around Hogwarts' defenders.
"That's very generous of you," Professor McGonagall snapped back, "considering how many people you've already killed."
Voldemort ignored her. Hermione wished Harry would finish what he was doing and get here; Voldemort seemed to be constitutionally incapable of ignoring him, no matter how confident he claimed to be.
"You must know that you cannot defeat me," Voldemort was saying. "You have fought bravely, but your Muggle pets cannot win you the day."
Buffy Summers narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Watch who you're calling a pet, mister," she said, "unless you've got some more giants you'd like to lose."
"And how many of your sisters lie dead, Slayer?" Voldemort fired back. Hermione winced. Two young slayers had slaughtered the giants Willow had shrunk down to a mere ten feet tall. They had been killed almost immediately by angry Death Eaters, despite the covering fire Hermione and others had tried to give them. They weren't the only ones to die.
"In recognition of your bravery," Voldemort continued, ignoring the anger of the remaining Slayers, "I will allow any wizard or witch who so wishes to join my Death Eaters now. You will not be punished for your defiance if you take this opportunity. If you do not, you will die."
The matter-of-fact way he said it chilled Hermione. For whatever reason, despite the damage they had already done to his forces, Voldemort genuinely believed he would win. That made her pause, wondering why.
Neville didn't stop to wonder. He just limped forward, glared at Voldemort and said, "No. Never mind that you'd have plenty of other excuses to torture me, what you're doing is wrong." The was a round of mocking laughter from the Death Eaters, but Neville didn't seem deterred at all. Hermione supposed that Snape really had done worse to him in class.
The laughter died away as Malfoy stepped up beside Neville. "He's right," Malfoy said. "I've lived under your rule and tried to be your good little minion. It really wasn't worth it."
"There may be more of you than there are of us," Neville said, "but we've got allies. Friends. The Slayers came and helped us because what you're doing is the sort of wrong they fight. The more wrong you do, the more groups like them will find their way to us.
"I know you care even less about allies than your minions. That's why you haven't got any now. Your giants are dead. The acromantulas left." That had been one of the most horrifying things Hermione had witnessed. The acromantulas had attacked where Hagrid happened to be, and of course he had shouted to the defenders not to kill any of Aragog's children, that they were just misunderstood. A Death Eater had taken advantage of his distraction to cast something that made Hagrid scream and collapse, blood dripping from his nose and ears. The spider swarm had changed direction instantly, overwhelming the Death Eater before he even realised what was happening. His screams had cut off quickly, mercifully. The acromantulas left only blood, bones and cloth behind. Then they had carried Hagrid off into the forest, ignoring the rest of the battle. Hermione hoped her friend was alright, but she was very much afraid he had been dead before the spiders had picked him up.
"All you've got," Neville finished contemptuously, "is a pet snake."
Nagini hissed and reared up, ready to strike at Neville. Voldemort raised on hand to stop her, and smiled. "Brave words," he said condescendingly. "Tell me, boy, where is your Saviour? Where is Harry Potter?"
He paused long enough to let the question ripple around the defenders and uncertainty settle in. Before Hermione could nerve herself to say that Harry was on his way, he continued. "It is no secret that your precious Boy Who Lived shares a bond with me. I know what it is that you are so desperate to hide. I felt his fear. I felt his pain. And I felt his passing." Voldemort threw his arms wide in a dramatic gesture and shouted, "Harry Potter is dead!"
"I got better," Harry shouted back. He strode confidently out of Hogwarts' entrance, Miss Rosenberg and Professor Snape at his heels. The young druids followed along behind him. Hermione had never been so relieved in her life.
A murmur ran around the Death Eaters, and Hermione heard several of them say Snape's name as well as Harry's. "Yes," Snape said drily, "I too 'got better', though without half the drama Potter managed."
"Your heart stopped, Professor," Josh said. "Twice. That was plenty enough drama."
"Things really aren't going well, are they Tom?" Harry taunted. "You haven't taken Hogwarts. You haven't killed me. You haven't even killed Snape, and he wasn't trying to stop you. And you were wrong about that, too; Snape wasn't the master of the Elder Wand. He may have killed Dumbledore, but it was Draco Malfoy who defeated Dumbledore. And then I beat Draco in a duel, and neither of us knew what I'd just done." He huffed a little laugh, then became very serious. "I believe you have something of mine."
"I have everything of yours, brat," Voldemort spat, "and I will destroy it all." He raised the Elder Wand dramatically and screamed the single word, "Come!"
Hermione felt an awfully familiar chill. "Dementors," she yelled. "Expecto patronum!"
Hers wasn't the only patronus to disrupt the Dementors as they flowed up towards the school. She saw Harry's stag flash past, along with several others she didn't have time to identify. She didn't have time for much, truthfully; only the fact that the Death Eaters hadn't been expecting Voldemort's move either had given the defenders even that much time.
The fight happened in a blur. She saw Malfoy knock Neville out of the way of Nagini's lunge, only to have to dive aside himself. She saw Miss Summers rush past, wielding that terrifyingly sharp scythe of hers, and somehow start killing Dementors. She saw Miss Rosenberg, her red hair bleached white with power, cast shield after shield to protect everyone she could. She felt the warmth of happiness as the druids did something to nullify the Dementors' power and drive them back. She saw Amy Barnes fighting Nagini hand to hand, striking the snake hard enough with her bare fist to affect it even through all the protections Voldemort must have layered on it. She saw Draco Malfoy protect his girlfriend's back with everything he had. She saw Narcissa Malfoy calmly defend her son and husband while one was oblivious and the other useless. She saw Bellatrix Lestrange clip Ginny with a cutting curse, only to be ripped apart by a furious Molly Weasley. And she heard the thunder of hooves as the centaurs charged out of the forest and into the flank of the Death Eaters.
In that moment when the Death Eaters were thrown into confusion and Hermione had a chance to breathe for the first time in what felt like hours, everything came to a head. Nagini managed to catch Amy hard enough to wind her; Malfoy leapt in the way to defend her, and Neville charged in with an incoherent cry. Nagini lunged for Amy, brushing Malfoy aside as if he was nothing, and something glittered in the air. Then Nagini's head was rolling sideways and Neville was holding Gryffindor's Sword high, staring at it dumbfounded.
Voldemort's scream of rage brought the battle to a halt. Moments later, Neville was the one screaming as the cruciatus curse hit him. Malfoy immediately tried to counter the curse; Hermione doubted he would have succeeded against Voldemort's fury if Harry hadn't stepped in front of them.
"It's over, Tom," Harry shouted. "We've destroyed all your second chances. Your Death Eaters are outnumbered. You've lost."
"I still have more power than your entire army," Voldemort raved. "That fool will suffer for what he did to my beautiful Nagini. And you, brat, you will die knowing you couldn't save him. Avada kedavra!"
"Expelliamus!"
Hermione was close enough to feel the rush of power as the wands resonated and the spells repelled each other violently. Harry went flying backwards, fortunately caught by cushioning charms from Ron, Malfoy, Neville and Hermione herself. Voldemort simply wobbled on his feet, then collapsed to the ground and lay still.
It was oddly anticlimactic. Despite knowing better, Hermione had half expected Voldemort's death to be accompanied by fireworks, or perhaps for what was left of his soul to rise up like smoke and disperse on the wind, as Tolkien had described Saruman's death. For Voldemort to just stop moving like that seemed wrong. Hermione felt obscurely cheated.
Snape and McGonagall advanced cautiously towards the body, checking with both spell and touch that he really was dead. Snape gave the merest hint of a smile, allowing McGonagall to rise and declare, "Lord Voldemort is dead!"
"And he's not getting better this time," Harry said with a tired smile. "So that's it, then. It's finally over."
"Reckon so," Ron said, strolling up. "All bar the shouting anyway." All around them Death Eaters were fleeing, surrendering or making futile attempts to cause as much damage as they could. It didn't matter. The boys were right; the war was over, and everything else was just footnotes in history.
"At least we'll get to finish school now," she said, "even if it will be a year late."
Harry groaned, but Ron smiled. He stepped up to her and kissed her soundly on the lips, just like she had always hoped he would. "That's why I love you," he whispered.
She kissed him back. "And that's why I love you."
Title: Call Me Conrad (part 15 of 16)
Fandoms: Buffy/Hollyoaks/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Pay attention when the gods indulge in idle chit-chat in front of you. There's always a test afterwards.
"This will work," Willow said with more confidence than she felt.
They were back in the Room of Requirement, this time configured (once Voldemort's would-be junior minions had been untied and sent home) as a comfortable ritual space with a soft, raised mattress where you might expect an altar. Harry was sat on the mattress trying to reassure a worried Ron and failing just as badly as Willow. She had brought the druids in for support, and they were standing uneasily at the cardinal and intercardinal points. Hopefully they wouldn't need the spiritual safety net, but with something this dangerous and experimental Willow firmly believed in having as many backup plans as she could manage. She was all too well aware of how easy it was to get something subtly wrong, or just slightly misunderstood, and of how easily they could all be killed when that happened. That's why Professor Snape was sitting in a corner with an impressive array of potions for any eventuality.
"It's not like we've got much of a choice," Harry said, "and we won't get a better time." Voldemort's forces had retreated at least for the moment, presumably to lick their many wounds. Not that the defenders had gotten off easy; three Slayers were dead, as were a number of wizards, all of whom Harry knew of course. The Dork Lord's plan was probably to let Harry stew in those deaths until he did something stupid to stop any more happening. Which would have happened; Harry's original plan had been to get Voldemort to use the Elder Wand on him, killing the horcrux instead. That would probably have worked right up to the moment someone checked Harry's body, at which point he would have been dead for real. The ritual Willow had cooked up wasn't so sure to succeed, but she could pretty much guarantee Harry would be alive at the end of it. If nothing else, she and Xander both knew CPR.
"We'd better get started then," Josh Ashworth said with reluctance. Ron grimaced and stepped back, taking one last long look before heading back to the command post just off the Great Hall. He'd turned out to be a decent field tactician, to Buffy's delight, and she wanted him at hand in case Voldemort started anything.
Harry settled back as the eight druids moved inwards. They stopped when they had one hand each touching over the centre of both the room and Harry's body, and Josh spoke the phrases that Willow and Andrew had researched. Then all eight of them broke script and began chanting as they stepped away from Harry in a complicated weaving pattern.
"A maypole dance," Professor Snarkypants murmured. Willow could see the resemblance once he mentioned it. She could almost imagine the ribbons being woven into the net they had only talked about in abstract terms, and once she invoked the Sight she saw that was exactly what they were doing with the strands of magical power. Before long, Harry was surrounded by a large net of magic, loose enough that there was no danger of him touching it but tightly enough woven than nothing was getting in or out without the druids' at least noticing it.
"Your turn, Harry," Willow said once the druids seemed happy. "Time to summon your guides."
Harry settled his Invisibility Cloak loosely over his shoulders and with obvious reluctance put Death's Ring on his finger. The Resurrection Stone he had called it, even though it did no such thing. A few twists of the ring and four ghosts approached them. The druids shifted their dance slightly to allow free passage through their soul net.
"Mum! Dad!" Harry said brokenly as the ghosts manifested. Willow could see the family resemblance with the two ghosts who crowded around him, speaking soft words of encouragement. She recognised one of the other two; Remus Lupin, the werewolf wizard, had died only a few hours earlier alongside his wife. Their deaths had hit Harry hard. The last ghost must be Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. That veiled archway Harry had mentioned must have killed him then. A pity, Willow thought; she had been hoping to talk the wizards into letting her investigate it, but if it was just another way to die she didn't really want to know. She had seen more than enough death over the years, and knew first hand what a bad idea bringing people back was.
"At least I'll be with you," Harry said to something his mother had asked. "And the others will be able to kill Voldemort."
"Don't be too quick to join us, Harry," his father said. "We can wait. Besides, I'm counting on you for grandchildren. Have you found that someone special yet?"
"Dad!" Harry whined. He blushed, clearly uncomfortable with the teasing. So he did have a girlfriend then, Willow noted.
"Arthur and Molly's youngest," Lupin confirmed. Harry blushed harder as his parents smiled and nodded.
"Can we start the ritual now?" Harry asked plaintively.
"Just one moment," his father said. He stepped away from the group, and to Willow's surprise addressed Professor Snape. "Severus, I never got to apologise to you for my behaviour at school. I was a rude and arrogant teenager, and you were the victim of far too many of our pranks. I'm sorry I was so thoughtless. I should have known better than to treat anyone Lily cared about like that."
The professor looked like he was swallowing a lemon. Willow sympathised; she remembered Xander looking just as uncomfortable the first time Larry had treated him like a human being in public. If Cordelia had ever actually apologised for making Willow's life miserable, she would have felt the same way.
"I suppose it would be rude not to accept a posthumous apology," Snape said eventually. He still looked like he was considering being rude anyway. "Besides, Black was far worse than you."
"I was not!" the ghost of Sirius Black protested.
"Yes you were," the others said in unison. When it looked like Sirius might carry on protesting his relative innocence, Willow decided to intervene.
"Guys, I hate to hurry you, but we don't know how long His Snakiness is going to lick his wounds for," she said. It had the desired effect; Harry sighed and laid back, and the ghosts formed a protective huddle around him. They left just enough room for Willow to stand in without rudely passing through them.
"Ready?" she asked as Harry made himself comfortable. He nodded. "Remember, I can't leave your heart stopped for long or we may not be able to bring you back. Don't hang around more than you have to, OK?" Harry nodded again, and Willow found herself out of excuses.
She started by invoking Hecate, dark queen of the crossroads. She didn't need the power, Harry would be doing all the real work, but the goddess's blessing could be the difference between Harry coming back or not. Willow particularly didn't want to risk Hecate noticing the ritual and getting all huffy about not being invited.
Janus Psychopomp was next. The god of doorways might seem like an odd choice after Ethan Rayne's antics, but in this aspect he could help determine who went on to the afterlife and who stayed behind. Hopefully the end run they were doing around Voldemort's protections would appeal to his trickster nature.
Finally, Willow invoked Death. Death must heed his Master, she insisted. He could not come for Harry until Harry came to him willingly. She kept her hope quiet that Harry wouldn't be willing for a good few years yet. He was a good kid who had had a terrible childhood, and aside from dropping the hammer on Voldemort he deserved some time to enjoy himself.
Done with words, Willow reached out and touched Harry, let her magic guide his own around his beating heart. She couldn't hold it still herself without risking Harry's claim to the Elder Wand, but she could support him while he did it. Harry convulsed for a few seconds, gasping for air that wasn't doing him any good. Then he collapsed, and Willow watched his spirit separate from his body. Harry Potter was officially dead.
Willow saw Harry approach his spirit guides, the misshapen mass of the horcrux clinging to him like some demonic child. At the same time she saw Harry approaching a crossroads at which she stood, and watched as he came towards the portico she guarded. Evidently the gods she had invoked were taking an active interest this time. It was confusing, to put it mildly.
"Careful, sister," she/Janus murmured. "You don't want to break your little witch."
She/Hecate sniffed. "If she breaks, she had no business calling on us."
She/Willow kept quiet. Nothing she could say could possibly make this any easier. At least Death hadn't put in a personal appearance.
"Now what?" Harry asked. He tried to shake the whimpering horcrux off, which only made it cry out and hold on tighter. "It won't let go," he said worriedly.
Willow had been afraid that might happen since they couldn't use the Elder Wand. The beings empowering her were utterly unsurprised; since Harry was just as dead as the soul fragment, of course it could still cling on to him. "It will go where it wants to go," they intoned through her.
"Well, we'd better stop it," Black declared, and grabbed at the little beast. It was all so predictable to the gods Willow was trying not to get lost in. The men tried to rip the horcrux away from Harry by main force, using their strength and what personal magic remained to them. They failed dismally. The thing was much too strong, had much too good a hold for them to pry even a finger loose, and it screeched like it was being killed. Which in a way it was, but Willow still found the sound really unnerving. She tried to use her own magic to help, but the gods stopped her. "This is their problem to solve," Hecate said to her sternly, talking straight into her mind. "We played our part by allowing them this choice. We may not take the choice from them."
"A little advice wouldn't go amiss," Willow muttered in frustration.
"Already given, little one," Janus said cheerfully. "It's not our fault if the dimwits didn't listen."
"Stop it, all of you," Lily Potter shouted a few moments later. "This isn't the way."
She couldn't have heard Willow's internal conversation, so she must have figured out something on her own. Willow felt curiosity from Janus that turned into outright smug approval as Lily approached the horcrux, speaking softly and soothingly the whole while. She petted it and cajoled it like she would have a frightened animal, offering reassurance until its cries quietened and the little beast let go of Harry to grasp at the comfort it was being shown.
"There, there," she crooned, "it'll be alright. It's safe here, no one will hurt you." She gave the other ghosts a pointed stare until they hurriedly and rather unconvincingly agreed with her.
Harry watched his mother walk away slowly enough that the battered fragment of Voldemort's soul didn't notice. "The power the Dark Lord knows not," he murmured wonderingly. Love, Hecate observed, not bothering to hide her distaste at the sentimentality. Janus didn't mind that, and found the irony pleasing. Willow didn't need to be told how powerful love could be, not after losing Tara had driven her mad.
"What happens now?" Harry asked as the ghosts moved far enough away from his body/over the crossroads/into the portico.
"They move on," Hecate said through Willow. "You choose."
"What about...?" Harry gestured vaguely at the horcrux.
The reply was all Janus-mischief: "Oh, it gets to choose too."
Right on cue, the horcrux seemed to notice that Harry wasn't with it any more. It screeched, wriggled out of Lily's arms and bounded back towards Harry. Harry backed away rapidly, then sagged with relief when the thing hit a fence that had slid into place between them. Willow recognised the weave of the druids' net. They must have shifted it once the horcrux was clear of Harry, and did it gently enough not to be obvious in the magical landscapes.
"Clever boys," Janus said approvingly. And audibly, apparently, from the look on Harry's face. His mother simply scooped the creature back up, hushed its crying and quietly walked back to the other ghosts. The look in her eyes said that she wished it was Harry she was holding, but not a quaver of that entered her voice.
"Don't encourage the mortals," Hecate warned. "They'll forget they need us."
"They don't need us, sister," Janus replied. Willow got the distinct impression he was 'talking' for her benefit. "The sun rises without Apollo's chariot as the Earth spins. Lightning strikes without the attention of thunderous Zeus, and lights whole cities. Even the weak places don't need our attention like they used to. They're learning, sister; that was always the point."
"We should never have allowed the imposters so much time."
"An argument for another day. It's getting late."
He was right, Willow realised. Harry had been out of his body for a long time now, long enough for the ghosts and the horcrux to have passed out of sight. Time often did strange things in rituals, and Willow hoped it was doing so now. She really didn't want to find out what happened if you had serious oxygen starvation and no Slayer healing.
"I summon the spirit of Harry Potter," she began, speaking with her own mouth in the real world as the otherness began to fade around her. "By my will I call upon the power of Hecate and of Janus-"
Harry opened his eyes.
"-to bind... Oh, OK. Great Powers, I thank you for your aid today. The deed is done, the promise fulfilled. Blessed be." Willow closed the ritual and let the power dissipate, though not before she had checked that really was Harry there and he was securely stapled back into his body. She felt one last burst of amusement and cool assessment as the god and goddess withdrew, apparently happy enough with proceedings. At the same time the druids slowed, simplified and finally stopped their dance, unweaving their net and leaving everything as it had been when they began. For a moment, everything was still and silent.
"Drink this," Professor Snape ordered, striding forward and thrusting a potion bottle into Harry's hands. Harry did as he was told, grimacing at the taste and then blinking in surprise as he suddenly came fully awake.
"How do you feel?" Willow asked.
"A lot better, thanks," Harry said. He nodded gratefully to the professor.
"I meant about..." Willow gestured at Harry's forehead, not quite knowing how to put her question into words.
"Any headaches, nausea or inexplicable desires to sniff people's hair?" Xander asked. He really needed to get over the hyena thing, Willow thought.
It made Harry laugh, though, which might have been the point. "No, nothing like that," he said. "I feel... I don't know how to describe it. Lighter, maybe? Like there isn't someone constantly looking over my shoulder?"
"That figures," Josh said, smirking. "The thing that was constantly looking over your shoulder is gone."
Harry leaned back. "It's really gone," he said wonderingly.
"Yup," Willow said, aiming to join in the general humour. "Cast-iron guaranteed 100% moved on to the next plane of existence."
Harry luxuriated in the idea for a bit. "I wonder why the afterlife looked like King's Cross Station," he pondered aloud. Then he determinedly pushed himself upright. "No, never mind," he said, before Willow could start asking about what he had seen in the ritual that she evidently hadn't. "We should get back to the others. We still have to figure out how to kill Nagini."
They met Kennedy at the doors. "Get a move on," she said after giving Willow a kiss on the cheek. "Voldebork and his Merry Minions are headed up to the gates to discuss our surrender."
Harry looked a little surprised. "That's overconfident, even for him," he said.
"It's symbolic," Josh said, looking out of a hole in the wall. "It's nearly dawn, and he wants to make you think it belongs to him."
Harry smiled grimly. "Let's go and reclaim the day, then."
******
"I have no desire to spill magical blood."
Hermione didn't like to think of herself as overly cynical, but she didn't for one moment believe Voldemort's smooth words. She wasn't the only one; nobody scoffed out loud with Voldemort actually in front of them, but an undercurrent of disbelief ran around Hogwarts' defenders.
"That's very generous of you," Professor McGonagall snapped back, "considering how many people you've already killed."
Voldemort ignored her. Hermione wished Harry would finish what he was doing and get here; Voldemort seemed to be constitutionally incapable of ignoring him, no matter how confident he claimed to be.
"You must know that you cannot defeat me," Voldemort was saying. "You have fought bravely, but your Muggle pets cannot win you the day."
Buffy Summers narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Watch who you're calling a pet, mister," she said, "unless you've got some more giants you'd like to lose."
"And how many of your sisters lie dead, Slayer?" Voldemort fired back. Hermione winced. Two young slayers had slaughtered the giants Willow had shrunk down to a mere ten feet tall. They had been killed almost immediately by angry Death Eaters, despite the covering fire Hermione and others had tried to give them. They weren't the only ones to die.
"In recognition of your bravery," Voldemort continued, ignoring the anger of the remaining Slayers, "I will allow any wizard or witch who so wishes to join my Death Eaters now. You will not be punished for your defiance if you take this opportunity. If you do not, you will die."
The matter-of-fact way he said it chilled Hermione. For whatever reason, despite the damage they had already done to his forces, Voldemort genuinely believed he would win. That made her pause, wondering why.
Neville didn't stop to wonder. He just limped forward, glared at Voldemort and said, "No. Never mind that you'd have plenty of other excuses to torture me, what you're doing is wrong." The was a round of mocking laughter from the Death Eaters, but Neville didn't seem deterred at all. Hermione supposed that Snape really had done worse to him in class.
The laughter died away as Malfoy stepped up beside Neville. "He's right," Malfoy said. "I've lived under your rule and tried to be your good little minion. It really wasn't worth it."
"There may be more of you than there are of us," Neville said, "but we've got allies. Friends. The Slayers came and helped us because what you're doing is the sort of wrong they fight. The more wrong you do, the more groups like them will find their way to us.
"I know you care even less about allies than your minions. That's why you haven't got any now. Your giants are dead. The acromantulas left." That had been one of the most horrifying things Hermione had witnessed. The acromantulas had attacked where Hagrid happened to be, and of course he had shouted to the defenders not to kill any of Aragog's children, that they were just misunderstood. A Death Eater had taken advantage of his distraction to cast something that made Hagrid scream and collapse, blood dripping from his nose and ears. The spider swarm had changed direction instantly, overwhelming the Death Eater before he even realised what was happening. His screams had cut off quickly, mercifully. The acromantulas left only blood, bones and cloth behind. Then they had carried Hagrid off into the forest, ignoring the rest of the battle. Hermione hoped her friend was alright, but she was very much afraid he had been dead before the spiders had picked him up.
"All you've got," Neville finished contemptuously, "is a pet snake."
Nagini hissed and reared up, ready to strike at Neville. Voldemort raised on hand to stop her, and smiled. "Brave words," he said condescendingly. "Tell me, boy, where is your Saviour? Where is Harry Potter?"
He paused long enough to let the question ripple around the defenders and uncertainty settle in. Before Hermione could nerve herself to say that Harry was on his way, he continued. "It is no secret that your precious Boy Who Lived shares a bond with me. I know what it is that you are so desperate to hide. I felt his fear. I felt his pain. And I felt his passing." Voldemort threw his arms wide in a dramatic gesture and shouted, "Harry Potter is dead!"
"I got better," Harry shouted back. He strode confidently out of Hogwarts' entrance, Miss Rosenberg and Professor Snape at his heels. The young druids followed along behind him. Hermione had never been so relieved in her life.
A murmur ran around the Death Eaters, and Hermione heard several of them say Snape's name as well as Harry's. "Yes," Snape said drily, "I too 'got better', though without half the drama Potter managed."
"Your heart stopped, Professor," Josh said. "Twice. That was plenty enough drama."
"Things really aren't going well, are they Tom?" Harry taunted. "You haven't taken Hogwarts. You haven't killed me. You haven't even killed Snape, and he wasn't trying to stop you. And you were wrong about that, too; Snape wasn't the master of the Elder Wand. He may have killed Dumbledore, but it was Draco Malfoy who defeated Dumbledore. And then I beat Draco in a duel, and neither of us knew what I'd just done." He huffed a little laugh, then became very serious. "I believe you have something of mine."
"I have everything of yours, brat," Voldemort spat, "and I will destroy it all." He raised the Elder Wand dramatically and screamed the single word, "Come!"
Hermione felt an awfully familiar chill. "Dementors," she yelled. "Expecto patronum!"
Hers wasn't the only patronus to disrupt the Dementors as they flowed up towards the school. She saw Harry's stag flash past, along with several others she didn't have time to identify. She didn't have time for much, truthfully; only the fact that the Death Eaters hadn't been expecting Voldemort's move either had given the defenders even that much time.
The fight happened in a blur. She saw Malfoy knock Neville out of the way of Nagini's lunge, only to have to dive aside himself. She saw Miss Summers rush past, wielding that terrifyingly sharp scythe of hers, and somehow start killing Dementors. She saw Miss Rosenberg, her red hair bleached white with power, cast shield after shield to protect everyone she could. She felt the warmth of happiness as the druids did something to nullify the Dementors' power and drive them back. She saw Amy Barnes fighting Nagini hand to hand, striking the snake hard enough with her bare fist to affect it even through all the protections Voldemort must have layered on it. She saw Draco Malfoy protect his girlfriend's back with everything he had. She saw Narcissa Malfoy calmly defend her son and husband while one was oblivious and the other useless. She saw Bellatrix Lestrange clip Ginny with a cutting curse, only to be ripped apart by a furious Molly Weasley. And she heard the thunder of hooves as the centaurs charged out of the forest and into the flank of the Death Eaters.
In that moment when the Death Eaters were thrown into confusion and Hermione had a chance to breathe for the first time in what felt like hours, everything came to a head. Nagini managed to catch Amy hard enough to wind her; Malfoy leapt in the way to defend her, and Neville charged in with an incoherent cry. Nagini lunged for Amy, brushing Malfoy aside as if he was nothing, and something glittered in the air. Then Nagini's head was rolling sideways and Neville was holding Gryffindor's Sword high, staring at it dumbfounded.
Voldemort's scream of rage brought the battle to a halt. Moments later, Neville was the one screaming as the cruciatus curse hit him. Malfoy immediately tried to counter the curse; Hermione doubted he would have succeeded against Voldemort's fury if Harry hadn't stepped in front of them.
"It's over, Tom," Harry shouted. "We've destroyed all your second chances. Your Death Eaters are outnumbered. You've lost."
"I still have more power than your entire army," Voldemort raved. "That fool will suffer for what he did to my beautiful Nagini. And you, brat, you will die knowing you couldn't save him. Avada kedavra!"
"Expelliamus!"
Hermione was close enough to feel the rush of power as the wands resonated and the spells repelled each other violently. Harry went flying backwards, fortunately caught by cushioning charms from Ron, Malfoy, Neville and Hermione herself. Voldemort simply wobbled on his feet, then collapsed to the ground and lay still.
It was oddly anticlimactic. Despite knowing better, Hermione had half expected Voldemort's death to be accompanied by fireworks, or perhaps for what was left of his soul to rise up like smoke and disperse on the wind, as Tolkien had described Saruman's death. For Voldemort to just stop moving like that seemed wrong. Hermione felt obscurely cheated.
Snape and McGonagall advanced cautiously towards the body, checking with both spell and touch that he really was dead. Snape gave the merest hint of a smile, allowing McGonagall to rise and declare, "Lord Voldemort is dead!"
"And he's not getting better this time," Harry said with a tired smile. "So that's it, then. It's finally over."
"Reckon so," Ron said, strolling up. "All bar the shouting anyway." All around them Death Eaters were fleeing, surrendering or making futile attempts to cause as much damage as they could. It didn't matter. The boys were right; the war was over, and everything else was just footnotes in history.
"At least we'll get to finish school now," she said, "even if it will be a year late."
Harry groaned, but Ron smiled. He stepped up to her and kissed her soundly on the lips, just like she had always hoped he would. "That's why I love you," he whispered.
She kissed him back. "And that's why I love you."