Harry Potter and the Destiny of Prophecies - 17. Chapter 17

The darkness was the first thing that Harry noticed as he fought his way back to consciousness. A dry mouth and slight headache from being hit with stunners were the next things he noticed. When he remembered recent events, he sat up with a jolt…or at least, tried to,.

He couldn't sit up though, because a binding spell had him held tightly to a pallet on the grimy floor. He found it possible to groan though, and he did while he struggled against the restraining. The room was dark, and it was overly warm. Being so close to the floor was actually a good thing, Harry realized as he managed to raise his head a little. The floor was slightly cooler than the rest of the room, and he was already soaked in sweat. He could hear a door opening and the light from a lumos spell filtered inside.

"So you're awake now." A very familiar voice said from behind the lit wand that was more blinding to Harry than aiding his sight. Still, he recognized the voice and its owner and felt a surge of anger rising through him.

"Cornelius Fudge." Harry said in a grating voice, filling it with as much hatred as he could muster. "If you've hurt Neville I swear I'll tear you apart!"

"I don't think you're in a position to threaten me anymore, boy." The former Minister of Magic said smoothly. The man lowered his wand a bit and Harry could see his face now. It was thinner, more drawn, and the man's eyes looked even more pinched than before as he glared at Harry.

"What are you doing this for?" Harry demanded. "You can't possibly believe you'll get your old job back."

"You mean the job you stole from me?" Fudge retorted with a dry chuckle. "By the time I'm done with you they'll be begging me to take the job back. I'm on to you, boy. That old fool Dumbledore may have been blinded by your wide eyes and innocent looks, but I never was. I knew you were trouble from the first time I met you, using your magic on your poor muggle relatives. You've been dabbling in the dark arts, fooling everyone into believing you're hunting down Voldemort when you're really in league with him. Now we're going to prove that and you'll be given the Dementor's Kiss!"

"Ha!" Harry said loudly. "You'll have to find a live Dementor first, and most of them are on Voldemort's side. You're wrong, Fudge. I'm not in league with him so you have nothing to prove. Now let me out of these bonds and if Neville's unhurt you may go unharmed."

"Shut up, Potter." Fudge exclaimed nastily. "The baby is fine, and soon enough you'll be telling us everything you know. We'll record it in a view-all and when we deliver that to the Daily Prophet your toadies in the Ministry won't be able to save you!"

"It's ready, Minister." Another familiar, feminine voice said from the open doorway behind the former Minister.

"Very good Dolores." Fudge said as he took a step to the side. He waved his hand towards Harry impatiently. "Give him the truth serum and let's get things set up for the recording.

Harry recognized the froggish face of Dolores Umbridge as she edged around Fudge, a vial of clear liquid in her hands. He tried to struggle harder against his bonds, but they held firm. The woman had a smug look on her face as she approached Harry and watched him struggle in vain. She made that familiar, and hated, sound like she was clearing her throat and he gave up on struggling as she smiled nastily and set the vial against his lips. He spat out the first few drops she poured into him and she slapped him hard with her free hand.

"Don't make me do this the hard way you sick boy." She spat at him angrily and Harry just glared, trying to think of a way out of this. Fudge was moving around the room, lighting magical torches and setting up some type of equipment that would be recording whatever it was they forced out of him. While he was distracted by Fudge's movements, Umbridge poured more of the liquid down his throat and he swallowed reflexively. By the time Umbridge stood, he could feel the truth serum taking affect.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I asked you once before where Sirius Black was, what is your answer now?" Dolores Umbridge's voice was honey sweet, and she sounded as if she was speaking to a toddler, something completely familiar to Harry.

"He's dead, you bitch." Harry said hoarsely, trying to sit up more and staring at her with furious eyes.

"Yes, yes, so he is." Umbridge taunted him, sneering at him. "Now whose fault was that?"

"Voldemort's." Harry answered her, the truth slipping past him and he realized that he really did believe that now. It was odd, but her first few questions seemed to help him, calming him down a little.

"Enough of that, Dolores." Fudge said impatiently, stepping forward with a look of anticipation on his face. "Now, Potter, tell us about how you're conspiring with Voldemort."

"The only conspiring I've been doing with Voldemort is to see him dead." Harry answered, the potion flooding his system forcing the truth out, but in the way he chose to share. "Something you've jeopardized by bringing me here! He'll be attacking Hogwarts soon, and I have to be there to kill him when he steps into my trap!"

"Give him some more of that truth potion, Dolores." Fudge's voice was filled with anxiety now and the toadlike woman scampered back towards Harry with more of the stuff.

"I don't think so, bitch." Harry cursed softly, and then whispered a word. The ropes binding his hands fell away, and he smiled as he stood, rubbing his wrists to restore circulation. His head swam briefly as got up, and he wondered how long he had been asleep.

"Impossible!" Fudge snapped, bringing his wand to bear on Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry said softly, pointing his still tingling hand in the direction of Fudge's wand. It flew out of the former Minister's hands. Umbridge screeched and drew her own wand, only to have Harry send it flying.

"Sincecurus." Harry muttered idly, waiving his hand again towards Fudge, and fine lines of barbed wire curled up from the floor, tying the man completely, the barbs digging into through his robes and into his flesh. Harry repeated the spell on Umbridge, she had turned as if to flee out of the door. Harry felt dizziness come over him again and he braced himself on a nearby wall.

"How…how did you do this?" Fudge whimpered, pain obvious in his voice from the barbs in his flesh. Umbridge was twitching now, trying to get rid of the painful barbs but doing nothing except digging them deeper.

"Wandless magic, Fudge." Harry answered, again the truth thanks to that damn potion. He moved carefully, collecting their scattered wands and putting them into his own robe's pocket. The room was dark again, the only light coming from the open doorway and the still-glowing record-all. It only took him a moment to turn that off as well.

"But…but…only the strongest…" Fudge stammered in shock.

"Only the strongest of wizards have been able to master control of wandless magic." Harry finished for the man. "Yes, I know that. You two now know a secret only Dumbledore knew before he died."

"That's why you had him killed!" Fudge said angrily.

"No, I had nothing to do with his death." Harry said fiercely, fixing the disgusting man with a stare at those hurtful words. "You did it when you let those idiot muggles through the barrier. I may not have always agreed with the old codge, but your killing him is something I'm never going to forgive. Now, where's Neville?"

"Safe." Fudge answered in a short, quaking tone that told Harry he was scared.

"Of course he's safe." Harry said with a shrug. "If he wasn't, you'd be weeks dead already and I'm sure you know that. Hermione's awfully protective of her son. Answer me, where is he?"

"I'm not going to tell you anything!" Fudge nearly shouted and Harry just twisted his hand slightly, using his magic to pull the barbed wire tighter around the man. The gasps Fudge started making let him know the barbs were sinking deeper.

"I am not the same little boy you knew, Fudge." Harry warned him in a low voice. Umbridge's eyes were almost popping out of her sockets now, and she was whimpering softly. "You were the Minister of Magic, Fudge, when I was a little boy. It was your responsibility to protect me and instead you turned on me. Thanks to you, Sirius Black had to go into hiding instead of being the free man he deserved to be. Thanks to you, Barty Crouch, Jr. was kissed by a Dementor before he could tell you the truth about Voldemort's return. You have a lot to answer for, Cornelius Fudge."

"Dumbledore…" Fudge began, as if to excuse his actions of the past, but a surge of anger made Harry cut him off.

"Dumbledore always kept his eyes focused on the goal, Fudge." Harry snapped angrily. Fudge blinked at the harsh tone of his voice. "He made mistakes, but they were mistakes in being too protective of me, while you were just the opposite. You were scared, trying to protect your position of power, and in doing so you lost that position. Now, where is Neville?"

"You're wrong, Potter." Fudge spat out and Harry decided the man had spoken enough. He drew out Fudge's wand from where he'd pocketed it, and smiled cruelly. The look of fear on Fudge's face was perfect as he waved the wand and cast the spell. Fudge's body shimmered for a moment before shrinking and morphing into that of a small, black scorpion. Another flick of the wand and the scorpion was frozen.

"Now, Dolores, where is Neville?" Harry asked, turning to the toad-faced woman who was whimpering.

"He…he's upstairs with Weasley." Umbridge managed to stutter out in fear, her eyes locked onto the frozen scorpion. That was why she didn't see Harry moving the wand again and her scream was cut off as she was also transfigured. Another spell froze the toad that was standing where Umbridge had been. Harry smiled to himself as he picked both of them up and put them in his pocket. It figured that Ronald would be a part of this.

"What have you done with them?" Ron's voice sounded from the doorway as Harry had turned, checking to make sure his new wand wasn't in this room. There, in the doorway stood Ron, with Neville in one arm and his wand in the other. He motioned with his wand and Harry dropped Fudge's wand onto the floor.

"They're in my pocket, transfigured." Harry answered honestly.

"How did you get free?" Ron demanded angrily, his face nearly as red as his hair.

"How could you do this to Hermione?" Harry countered. "You know she's probably freaking out about Neville right now."

"She's been freaking out for the last few days." Ron said and Harry's heart leaped in his chest. Days! The attack could be happening at any moment!

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, moving his hand from his side and catching Ron by surprise. The spell was just enough to send the wand flying from Ron's hand. "Accio Neville."

"No!" Ron shouted as Neville left his grasp and floated to Harry's waiting arm. As soon as he had the baby boy, Harry used the same spell to summon Fudge's wand to him.

"Wandless Magic, Weasel." Harry said while Ron froze, staring at the wand now in Harry's hand. "That's how I got free."

"That's…impossible." Ron breathed out in surprise and Harry just shrugged.

"Why, Ron?" Harry asked finally. "Why did you turn your back on me?"

"Turned my back on you?" Ron spat in disbelief. Neville chose that moment to wake up, and he giggled at Harry. Harry smiled back, but was careful to keep his main attention on the red head. "I didn't turn my back on you, Harry, you turned your back on me and everyone else who ever loved you! Look at what happened to Dumbledore! All because you shacked up with that blond git!"

"So that's how you've justified this to yourself, by putting the blame on Draco." Harry muttered darkly. He wanted to kill Ron for that alone!

"Look at you, Harry!" Ron was nearly shouting now. "Look at the things you've done since you hooked up with your precious husband! You've used the Dark Arts! I know you tortured Pettigrew! I know about your bloody Oath! Who else have you seduced with you? Hermione? Seamus?"

"Seduced?" Harry barked in a fit of dark humor. Neville frowned at him as he did so, but stayed quiet. "I've seduced no one, and I haven't been seduced either. I've done what's necessary to make our world safe, Ron. What would have happened if I'd defeated Voldemort without doing what I've done? There'd have been another dark lord in ten, twenty years. That's the way it's always happened in the past. Now I've got a hold on those who might have followed that route. I know who they are and none of them can go that way without me finding out and taking them out!"

"Of course there won't be another dark lord from them, they already have you and Draco in training!" Ron shot back angrily and Harry squinted at him in disbelief.

"You can't believe that, Ron." Harry said in a low voice. "I haven't been seduced by the Dark, I'm not going to be a Dark Lord. I'm who I've always been, and the world is going to be a lot safer place."

"You're deranged, Harry, and I can't let you carry out your plans." Ron said firmly and Harry actually laughed. There was nothing Ron could do to stop him, and Harry knew that perfectly well. A wave of the wand, a spoken word, and a red-furred weasel stood where Ron had been a moment ago. Unlike the scorpion or the toad, the weasel tried to run, but Harry's petrification spell hit him before he could get away. He joined the other two animals in Harry's pocket.

"C'mon, Neville, let's get out of here." Harry said to the boy who was now giggling at Harry's use of magic. It only took a few minutes of searching the old house they were in to find Harry's own wand. Another minute after that to break the three wands he'd collected, and then he was walking outside.

They were on the edge of a small village, a muggle village from the looks of it, and there was even a small stream nearby, just visible in the early dawn. Harry sauntered over, reminded of an old saying he'd heard Uncle Vernon use one time. It was deep enough for his purposes and he put the petrified toad on a rock just barely above the water. He put the scorpion on its back, and stepped back onto the bank.

While too shallow for a human to have to swim across, the stream was deep enough that scorpion would drown from where he had put them. Harry waved his wand, unfreezing the two animals and turned his back, chuckling. He really didn't care if they made it across or not, as the old saying implied, but he felt it was poetic justice. (b/n what was the saying?) Neville stared at him with those big eyes all children seemed to have, and giggled in his own childish way.

Pop.

The Hogsmeade flat was full of people as Harry appeared in the doorway. Hermione was the first one to see him, and her scream alerted all the others. Harry barely had a moment to react before Neville was ripped from him by a very anxious Hermione. Draco was next to her, and wrapped Harry in a very tight hug. His husband's face was full of concern.

"You were too far away for us to figure out how to find you!" Draco whispered in his ear.

"South of France, I think." Harry said softly. The long-distance apparating had taken a lot of energy, and he was tired. "How long until graduation?"

"A few hours." Draco said with a whisper, barely reducing his grip on Harry. "We were trying to figure out what to do if we couldn't find you."

"I'm here now." Harry said, pulling himself a little straighter and with a squeeze of Draco's arm, getting him to step back as well. "It was Ron, Fudge, and Umbridge that kidnapped us. I transfigured Umbridge and Fudge before leaving them there. I doubt they're still alive by this point. I brought this as a reminder."

He held up the frozen weasel as he said the last, and wasn't surprised at Hermione's narrowed gaze. She frowned for a moment before a cruel smile lit her face. She transferred Neville to another arm and took the frozen ferret in the other hand.

"Look, Neville." Hermione's voice was honey-sweet. "Uncle Harry brought you your first pet. I'll transfigure a cage for it and you can play with Weasel later."

"I have a feeling Weasel is going to regret ever having crossed us again." Draco said with a satisfied tone. Harry just nodded. "We've got time for a bath before we have to get ready for graduation."

"Let's go." Harry said with a nod, and they worked their way through the crowded room. Most of the people wanted to talk, but Harry wasn't in the mood. He felt dirty, and wanted to get clean again.

"You were totally blank, totally gone from the bond." Draco said as they climbed into a hastily filled and hot bath tub. Harry was lying in the comfortable space between Draco's legs, and the blonde's careful massaging was relaxing in the extreme.

"I think I was unconscious the entire time, until just a few hours ago." Harry admitted. It was a hole in their defenses, something they hadn't really planned for.

"We'll have to figure a way around that little problem in the future." Draco said with a rueful chuckle. "I do like the new pet, though."

"He wouldn't shut up about how I've been corrupted by the dark magic." Harry whispered, a little worriedly. He'd been using an awful lot of the stuff lately.

"Did you kill him?" Draco asked rhetorically. No, Harry hadn't killed him, and a Dark Wizard would have done that. Killing Ron would have been nothing to a Dark Wizard, but Harry just couldn't bring himself to do that to his one-time friend. Instead he'd let him live where he could keep an eye on him.

"Is everything ready?" Harry asked, moving on from the past to the future. In a few hours, the culmination of months of effort, of years of trials and tribulations, would be coming to a head. If he wasn't surrounded by Draco's strong arms and legs, both of them immersed in hot water, he'd be fidgeting like crazy.
"We're more than ready." Draco answered, raising his arms to start kneading Harry's tense shoulders. Harry let out a sigh as Draco continued. "We have all the students who will be fighting ready to go, those that are taking the rest of the student out of Hogwarts are also ready, and we've told McGonagall that we think something will happen. We've covered up your absence, no one knew except those that were here, all from our own group. Ginny will be staying in our quarters with the portkey to go warn the Ministry. They should be able to respond within an hour."

"Anything changed with the battle plan?" Harry asked as he relaxed into Draco's firm massage.

"Nothing." Draco answered in a calm voice. "We're expecting the dragons to lead off the attack, and Charlie Weasley has sent up a herd to help with that. Then it'll be the giants, werewolves, and other creatures followed by the non-Marked followers of Voldemort. He'll keep his Death Eaters as an honor guard and try to keep from having to confront you directly. We're pretty sure he plans to have them capture you so he can kill you."

"The Prophecy just says that one of us will kill the other, not that it will be in battle or even in a duel." Harry noted, something that had been gone over repeatedly by everyone. That was the biggest concern he had, that they would somehow capture him during the battle, or incapacitate him, before he could pin down Voldemort. That was why he would hopefully not even cast a spell before it came time for the direct confrontation.

"He can't help but know that we'll be prepared for him." Draco said in a soft voice, and Harry felt him move a bit, taking something from the edge of the large bathtub. "I just hope he has no idea just how prepared we are for him."

"Is that…?" Harry's voice dropped off as he felt something go around his neck. It was cool, and his skin tingled slightly as it touched him. He looked down, and saw the small, clear globe on a silver chain. No more than two centimeters across, it was the key to their plans.

"It's so small, but Hermione promises that it will do the job." Draco said, and Harry believed him. There were two things Harry could count on in life, one was Hermione finding and implementing answers, and the other was, of course, Draco.

"I hope she's managed to finish the debate about muggle-borns." Harry noted in a tone full of irony and smiled as he felt Draco chuckling.

"She may not be as strong with a wand as a pureblood, but she does have her moments." Draco allowed, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. "You know, even the Quidditch teams have gotten some good ideas for this upcoming battle. Voldemort's going to be surprised."

"I hope so, love, I hope so." Harry said, sighing as he relaxed against Draco's warm chest, and letting the hot water relax him even further. The coolness resting on his chest was a counterpoint to that warmth.

###

Of all the things Harry Potter expected to be feeling at this point in time, boredom had never been on the list.

Yet, no other word fit how he was feeling as he poked at the dinner on his plate. It was the Leaving Feast, the last event of his last year at Hogwarts, and nothing had happened yet. He'd expected Voldemort's attack in the early morning while he attended his last 'class' with his fellow students. Before lunch, he'd met with the Headmistress to discuss the impending attack and she had sent a summons to the Ministry, who had begun assembling Aurors in Hogsmeade.

Lunch had passed interminably slowly, with everyone expecting the attack at any moment. The Great Hall had been all but silent as people looked to where Harry sat with Gryffindor House, and out the great windows, but nothing had happened. The afternoon's festivities, designed to the celebration for seventh years leaving after successfully completing their education were subdued.

By the time the Leaving Feast had started, nearly everyone was exhausted from being on the edge all day. Harry found his mind drifting back to that wonderful morning, safe in Draco's arms. He'd been exhausted, falling asleep in the bath, only waking a few hours later when Draco told him it was time to get ready for Hogwarts.

Mrs. Weasley had arrived while he was asleep. She'd be staying with the kids while everyone was at school, and he found her kneeling down next to a large structure that Hermione had conjured. It was a wire-frame castle, complete with four floors, three towers, and two wheels for the red-haired weasel that was lying on the ground floor. Mrs. Weasley had an odd smile on her face when Harry had entered.

"Oh, Harry dear." She had said in that typical way she always greeted him. "Did you get enough sleep? Thanks, dear for not killing Ronald. I just hope he appreciates this nice home Hermione's given him. At least he won't be able to complain about everything he owns being rubbish. It's quite nice really."

"Um…uh…no problem, Mrs. Weasley." Harry had stuttered at her. He'd expected any reaction but the one he'd gotten. When they'd finally left the flat, she'd been back at the cage scolding the depressed weasel about having a bad attitude and how he'd just better get adjusted to his new situation since it was far more than he deserved.

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy had been waiting for them by the carriages that would take the entire group into Hogwarts for the morning. The two men, long-time enemies, had been chatting amiably about the new wizarding primary schools. Lucius Malfoy was preparing a proposal that all muggle-born children should be sent to the wizarding primary schools even though they wouldn't be taught magic until they turned eleven and went to Hogwarts, arguing that it would familiarize them with their place in the Wizarding World at an earlier age. Mr. Weasely was actually agreeing with him and had asked if Mr. Malfoy would want him to co-sponsor the proposal.

For a moment Harry experienced a surrealistic spinning of his head, as if he'd been transported into a new dimension. Still, he knew that this was the effect of the last two years, and the changes he and Draco had made together. He realized Draco knew that as well, from the small smirk on his face as had dismounted the carriages.

Harry's wandering mind had drawn his attention away from the extremely quiet hall, but the explosion of magic against the outer wards brought him back to the present. His gaze immediately went to the tall windows behind the high table, and for a moment nothing out of the ordinary was evident. It had been a partially cloudy day, and now the sun setting, turning the sky red and orange as the day ended.

It was those colors that blinded him to the fire that was now raining down from above. The blow to the outer wards had been strong, strong enough to punch a hole through them, and in the few seconds since they had failed, he could see Minerva McGonagall staggering in her seat, and Severus Snape barely turning to face her. Outside the windows, the flaming dragons could be seen growing bigger as they closed in on Hogwarts.

The attack had begun, and no one needed the warning bells that were starting to ring to tell them.

"Tell Ginny to go!" Draco hissed from the Slytherin table to a first-year Slytherin. The girl took off at a run towards their nearby apartments, where the Weasley daughter waited with a portkey to take her to the reinforcements now in Hogsmeade. The Headmistress was standing now, with the help of Professor Snape, but all eyes in the Hall were on Harry. Even she realized this, and turned to where Harry sat in the middle of the Gryffindor table.

"The time has come." Harry said, standing slowly, but confidently. He looked out over the hall, covered in the bright banners of Hufflepuff House (he was still shocked that Hufflepuff had won the House Cup in a surprise move over the last week). For five years he'd come into this hall, and tried to ignore the way his every move was followed by many of these students. Now, though, he knew everyone was looking at him, and it no longer bothered him. He was a leader, and it was only right that they'd look to him at this moment in time. "The battle we've been expecting has begun, but before we take our places, let me tell you why it is being fought, here, now.

"Eighteen years ago, our world had suffered through several years plunged into terror by Voldemort and his followers." Harry stated in a tone that was firm and carried throughout the Hall. "Eighteen years ago, his time of terror ended when he attacked my family, when he attacked me. Since I've come to Hogwarts, he's been rebuilding his power towards this day. He has focused much of his efforts on me, over and over again, but why he has done so has been a mystery known to few. Two years ago, I found why he attacked me as a baby, and why he was so determined to kill me since then.

"The reason is simple: A prophecy given by our own Professor Trelawney before I was born. It was a true prophecy, and Voldemort himself has only known a part of it, but that part was enough for him to try to kill me as a baby. The Prophecy says that one of us, Voldemort or I, will kill the other. Voldemort will die by my hand, or I by his. The day of Prophecy is at hand, today our destinies will be decided. Clear me a path to Voldemort, and this will be over. I am Harry Potter. Voldemort has tried to kill me for eighteen years and failed, but today is the day I will kill him!"

The roar that greeted his ending was tremendous, and only redoubled as outside the great windows dragons descended on those that were attacking the castle. As Harry, and the rest of the school watched the incoming flaming beasts, more descended on them, screaming in anger, talons tearing into flesh as only once dragon could do to another. A great cheer echoed throughout the hall, and Minerva McGonagall turned to face the students with a feral grin.

"First and second years!" McGonagall's voice was confident, and grabbed the attention of the students. "Stand by to rush the wounded to the infirmary! Third and fourth years, you will protect them. Fifth through seventh year Gryffindors, form behind me at the Great Entrance. Slytherins with Professor Snape, Ravenclaws with Professor Sinistra, and Hufflepuffs with Professor Sprout. Remember, we only hold them back until the Aurors arrive and clear a path for Mr. Potter. Quidditch teams and Mr. Potter, take your places on the Astronomy Tower!"

Movement followed her commands at once, and Harry took a deep breath before joining Draco and the others. His blond husband's smirk was all he needed to help rebuild the confidence that had flooded out of him after he'd spoken. These students were now rushing out, many to their deaths, all in an effort to allow Harry to confront Voldemort in a real wizard's duel. The moment of the prophecy was at hand, and he could only think of how it did not guarantee his victory as he made his way up to the Astronomy Tower, surrounded by the House Quidditch teams, Draco, and his Oathbound guards.

Once he was on the Tower's clear, flat roof, he could see the first ranks of Voldemort's followers as they made their way towards the tower. Overhead, the dragons were fighting each other, both those that followed Voldemort and those that were brought by Charlie Weasley. On the ground, there were packs of werewolves, a flock of Harpies, an entire tribe of giants, and other magical beasts coming their way. From around the corner, he could see Hagrid leading Grawp and several other giants, as well as an assortment of beasts that included Hippogriffs, Fluffy, and the centaur Firenze.

Behind Voldemort's menagerie of beasts marched about three hundred wizards and witches. They weren't well-organized, and they weren't wearing Death Eater masks, so he guessed they were followers from the continent. Further behind them came Voldemort himself, surrounded by almost a hundred and fifty masked Death Eaters, the elite of his forces. Harry was so entranced by the closing forces that he almost missed the Bloody Baron floating up through the Astronomy Tower's roof.

"Milord, the Headmistress sends that they are ready." The Bloody Baron said with a slight bow. The taciturn ghost had taken to calling Harry 'milord' since he'd seen how the Slytherins now deferred to Harry. It had worried Harry that the ghost would tell McGonagall, but that concern had been dismissed by Snape himself, who had pointed out the Baron's first loyalties were always to Slytherin and while Harry was not of that house, Draco was.

"Tell Hagrid to focus on the Harpies and werewolves before tackling the giants." Harry ordered the ghost, who nodded grimly. McGonagall would be fighting, and it would be up to Harry who had the advantage of height to direct their forces, and the ghosts themselves would be contributing to the battle by carrying messages. "Then tell the Headmistress we've got about three hundred basics coming up the main path. If she pushes them to the left, and Snape pushes from the right, the incoming Aurors should be able to catch them in a vise."

"An excellent plan." The Baron said with a short bow before disappearing back through the roof. The Fat Friar took his place next.

"Sir, Madame Pomfrey reports the medi-wizards from St. Mungos have arrived." The Friar said with a bow of his own. "They have portkeys set for the most critically injured, but for now we can raise those wards."

"Good, tell her to do so." Harry said and the Fat Friar disappeared. During the battle itself, while Professor McGonagall was fighting, the medi-witch would be the holder of Hogwarts' wards. Unless she needed to send a badly injured patient immediately to St. Mungos, portkeys would not work, preventing another avenue of escape for Voldemort.

"None of them have brooms." Draco said from Harry's side. He was using a pair of omnioculars to scan the approaching forces.

"Good, then we should be able to pin him down." Harry replied as another great roar turned his attention to the southwest, where Hagrid and his forces clashed against the flock of harpies. About fifty wizards moved towards him, but the sounds of the Great Doors opening at the Entrance pulled them back.

"Hogwarts stands ready to defend itself!" McGonagall's amplified voice swept over the grounds, and for a moment the battle between the dragons in the sky, and Hagrid's creatures with the Harpies, paused. "Leave now if you value your lives!"

No sooner had she spoken than she led the way out of the castle. Immediately behind her were Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks, followed by several other Professors, and behind them ran a hundred screaming students from the upper years. Voldemort's forces were frozen at that moment, and the stunning spells hit them first, cutting down a large swath of them including all of those that headed towards Hagrid, where the fighting had begun again. In the skies above, Harry noted that the dragon forms were small dots now, as Charlie's dragons chased the fleeing followers of Voldemort. Charlie had warned this would happen, that his dragons once in the fight would chase the others, but at least the skies were clear. That was a good thing, because Charlie and his fellow dragon handlers rose from where they'd hidden under the edge of the Forest, riding their brooms and heading for Voldemort's weakly protected flank.

The sky was darkening as the sun set beyond the mountains, and Harry accepted a pair of omnioculars from Draco. These had been spelled so that they could see in the dark, something he'd thought unnecessary but was now glad for having. Voldemort's forces had recovered from the initial attack by the Hogwarts students and staff, and were now firing spells of their own back, including many killing curses. Harry determinedly kept himself from looking to see how many hit students. Instead he turned to the people behind him.

"Beaters, to the air." Harry ordered simply, and there was still enough light to see the grins that lit their faces. A muggle-born beater from Hufflepuff had come up with this idea after hearing of the rogue bludger in Harry's second year. While the muggle-born, whose name was Gary Gudger, climbed his broom and headed off into the air, the others on the tower roof opened up the boxes of eight specially prepared bludgers. The deadly balls streaked into the air, where the waiting beaters began to bat them back and forth.

Gudger, the Hufflepuff, was leading the Beaters as they shot through the air towards Voldemort's forces. Harry recalled that the Hufflepuff's father was an RAF fighter pilot and he wondered what the father would have to say when he learned his son was in air combat on a broom. That line of thought was cut short though, as Harry saw the effect of the air attack, and the modified bludgers. Gary Gudger's shot was particular painful as he beat a bludger right through a group of Death Eaters heading to reinforce the other forces. The bludger hit one directly in the chest, and by zooming in, Harry could see the man's chest had been totally caved in by the blow. Crabbe swung at the bludger as it headed back into the sky, knocking it right into another Death Eater's wand arm, breaking it so badly that bone fragments could be seen poking out of the man's sleeve.

Harry didn't have to order the remaining Quidditch players to the sky as a wall of spells went skyward from the massed Death Eaters. Even as Gary Gudger fell from his broom, hit by the green light of the killing curse, the chasers, keepers, and seekers were in the sky, casting spells towards the grounds as the surviving beaters regrouped and knocked the deadly bludgers back towards the enemy. For a moment, the battle hung at equilibrium, with both sides screaming spells, the booms and clangs of those spells filling the air, as did the screaming of the wounded and dying.

Then the Aurors arrived.

Like a tidal wave, they flowed from the direction of Hogsmeade and their spells hit Voldemort's forces with deadly accuracy. Unlike most of the student's stunning and petrifying spells, the Aurors used more deadly methods, and Voldemort's forces began to crumble. Harry summoned his broom, as did Draco and the rest on the tower, preparing for the final confrontation when a glimmer of movement from behind Voldemort caught his gaze.

Harry turned his eyes just in time, to avoid the gaze of the basilisk that was moving towards the battle zone. Cries of terror began to ring out from the students as the front line of aurors fell dead from the beast's deadly gaze, and dozens of smaller poisonous snakes made their way towards the fighting. This was something totally unexpected, something that Harry had not planned on facing, but fortunately someone else had.

From the direction of Hagrid's hut, the sound of frightened poultry and other beasts had been heard, but now a new sound rang out. Harry had never been so glad to hear a rooster crow as he was at that moment. The crow grew louder as it sounded again, and the sounds of a large beast flopping in death drew Harry's gaze back to where the Basilisk was. He also caught a glimpse of a screaming Voldemort.

Still, the beast had turned the tide back to Voldemort's favor slightly, and the rooster did nothing for the smaller poisonous snakes that had now reached the lines of aurors and students. Nearly thirty aurors had died from the basilisk's gaze, as had almost a dozen students, and the snakes began adding to those numbers with a vengeance. The students and aurors were now faced with trying to kill small, deadly threats as well as dealing with the spells Voldemort's men were casting at them.

"Go back to your homes!" Harry hissed in Parseltongue, after amplifying his voice. His command had little effect beyond making the snakes pause in their attacks, but it was enough. Below him, Professor McGonagall whirled her wand, and dozens of grass blades were transfigured into mongooses. The small creatures tore into the snakes with a vengeance and the slithering beasts turned away from the humans to fight McGonagall's transfigured creatures.

The Headmistress's action seemed to inspire students, who started turning any object nearby into other creatures. Snakes started being turned into mice, and ordinary plants nearby became dogs or cats that turned and attacked either snakes or Voldemort's people. The Aurors, who had been stunned by the basilisk attack and by the snakes, regrouped as well, and once again began pressing Voldemort's followers. More than two-thirds of the regular followers were down now, and the rest were barely standing. More than a third of the Death Eaters were dead, while all but a handful around Voldemort were fighting for their lives. Some of the students, mostly Slytherin, were now casting curses that glowed the same green as what was being thrown at them. There would be no punishments for that, he was certain, because this was a battlefield and they were fighting for their lives.

"Harry, it's time." Draco's voice was close, sounding in his ears, and Harry took a deep breath. Draco was right, it was time. Both sides had fully engaged all their forces, and the circle around Voldemort was backing up, heading off the grounds slowly, to where they could apparate or portkey away. That could not be allowed.

"Let's go." Harry said, swinging onto his broom and pausing only to make sure all the others still with him were on theirs. As he kicked off the ground, he was followed by ten other Firebolts, and they zoomed through the battle. A few spells headed their way, but the Quidditch teams still in the air formed a shield and blocked most of them. The beaters beat a path with their bludgers, and Harry dropped to the back of the group as they neared Voldemort's inner circle.

As a group, they hit the ground, dismounting and dropping their brooms, ready for an onslaught of spells, but none came their way. With a small portion of his brain, Harry noted a few things happening at one time. Voldemort's circle drew aside, forming into a half-circle around their black clad leader. As Harry's guard did the same, the sounds of battle sputtered and then died. He knew without looking that everyone, from both sides, was now watching what was about to happen.

"So, Harry Potter, are you ready for your final duel?" Voldemort's voice was grating as always, and Harry took the chance to study his foe. Voldemort seemed…shorter than he once had, when they faced each other in the Riddle cemetery, and of course at Harry's own wedding. The skin was still pasty white, skeletal, the eyes glowed red, and there was the dull throb of the scar on Harry's forehead, but he found that he was no longer afraid of this…man.

"I only hope no one is ever foolish enough to duel me after you are gone, Tom." Harry retorted with a wry grin. His new wand was in his hand, warm and ready for action. It only took a flick to bring it up into the traditional salute. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your manners, old boy."

"I see your wit hasn't grown as fast as your ego, Potter." Voldemort quipped back, bringing his wand up in the traditional salute as well. They both bowed, and assumed the traditional stances of readiness, but Harry moved quicker than Voldemort, taking a cue from Draco's bag of tricks.

"Avada Kedavra." Harry said softly, willing with all his might that this thing would be dead. A hollow howling sound filled his ears, and a rush of pleasure filled him as the spell launched itself with green fury at a stunned Voldemort. The spell, the unstoppable killing curse, hit Voldemort squarely in the chest, his own wand had only moved halfway towards Harry. As the spell hit, a scream filled the air, a scream filled with rage, with anger, and with a dark lust. At that same moment, Harry's scar burst out in pain like he'd not felt in years, and his head spun. He fell to his knees, as did the body of Voldemort, now glowing with green sputtering energy as the spell crackled along its skin.

Something pushed inside Harry's head, and he could feel the evil, cold malice of Voldemort filling him. Harry fought it, fought for control, but he could tell he was losing the battle. Still, he'd prepared for this. Voldemort had possessed him briefly in fifth year, taunting Dumbledore, trying to get the old wizard to kill Harry in the hopes of also killing Voldemort. It had been Harry though, that had driven Voldemort out then. As the spirit possessing him raised Harry's wand arm and began to stand, Harry called up the memories that had saved him before.

Memories of Sirius flowed into Harry, but they did not push Voldemort out of him as they had before. Instead, Harry's mind floated back to that last encounter with the voice of Sirius coming out of the Veil, questioning Harry's choices. Voldemort's control over Harry grew stronger, and Harry's spirit screamed out in silent terror and pain.

Voldemort was winning!

Voldemort already controlled Harry's movement, and as Harry lost the silent battle inside of his own body, Harry's vision began to dim even as his hearing grew silent. Still, he could hear someone shouting his name, as if from a great distance, and in the growing darkness he could see a pale form in front of him. The face was blurred, but the pale blond hair could only belong to one person.

Within the space of a breath, even that vision was gone and Harry could feel his very soul being crushed in Voldemort's invisible grasp. Harry had been so sure that he could beat Voldemort as he'd done before, by remembering Sirius, but he'd failed. It had all been for nothing. In that growing darkness, and silence, he could hear Voldemort's laughter, but another voice was also there, a memory of years ago, when he had hurt and raged against the awful events in the Ministry of Magic during fifth year.

"In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind." Dumbledore had told Harry, referring to Harry's failed attempts at Occlumensy as they discussed the Prophecy and why Harry's life had been ever entwined with Voldemort. "It was your heart that saved you."

Those words, and that last vision of Draco before him reminded Harry of something important. Voldemort would be defeated by 'a power he knew not'. Voldemort was evil, he'd turned his back on humanity and sought evil, sought power, and as such had long since given up the one thing that Harry had always craved and until lately had never received enough of: Love. Voldemort did not know love, but Harry Potter knew it in ways that the Dark Lord had never dreamed possible.

Sirius Black, who Harry had loved as a mixture of father and older brother. Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, both who had become favored uncles. Aunt Petunia had shown him love, love suppressed, forgotten in petty jealousies, but love that found its way out at last. Hermione Granger had shown him love that exists between good friends, ever present when needed, giving and taking freely from one another. Molly and Arthur Weasley, parents with a large family of their own, who had welcomed him as if he was one of their own, surrogate parents. Draco Malfoy, who had been his nemesis, his rival, but who had taken Harry to such heights of passion and love that he knew what it meant to be two joined as one. It had been Draco who had filled his failing vision, Draco whose voice he'd heard last, and his heart filled with love for the blond aristocrat, who had chosen to live his life as Harry's husband.

As Harry remembered those whom he loved, and who loved him, Voldemort's spirit lost more and more control. Harry's hearing returned, and he could hear Draco whispering his love for Harry, and that only strengthened the love filling Harry's own heart. When his vision returned, that love redoubled again, gaining even more strength until he thought his heart would burst at the sight of that pointy face and blond hair that somehow managed to remain in place despite being in the middle of a battlefield. With a final silent scream, the spirit of Voldemort wailed in defeat as Harry regained control of his voice and whispered one word.

"Placatas." Harry whispered the incantation, and he felt his own magic seizing the shrinking spirit of Voldemort and forcing it into the prison of the crystal Harry wore around his neck. The cool metal and crystal globe on Harry's neck turned warm as the last vestiges of Voldemort were torn from Harry's body and imprisoned within.

Night had come to the battlefield, and Harry looked through the darkness to see the red glow of the crystal he wore. Voldemort was defeated. Harry looked up into the pale, worried eyes of his husband and smiled.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy."

###

After two years, the scar Hermione had earned in the Battle of Hogwarts still stood out on her skin. It did nothing to diminish her beauty though, Harry thought, as he held her hand and smiled. She chose that moment to open her eyes and smiled weakly. From the other bed nearby, Ginny also chose that moment to wake up and smile at Harry.

"Are they asleep?" Hermione asked quietly and Harry smiled back at them both.

"Yes, both Albus Lucien James Potter-Malfoy and Minerva Henrietta Granger-Weasley are sleeping." Harry answered, using the full names of both children that had just been born a few hours ago. "Draco's still in there staring at them both."

"He better not wake them up." Ginny said irritably. "I'm still exhausted."

"Don't worry, I doubt he will." Harry said with an ironic smile. "He's still smarting from that little hex you threw at him last week. He's developing a real fear of bats now, thanks to you."

"He should know by now I'm pretty good with that hex." Ginny said with a nasty grin. She'd been a very temperamental pregnant woman, and Harry shuddered at the mere thought of another nine months with her in a foul mood.

"How'd the meeting with the Prime Minister go?" Hermione asked. Harry had been in that meeting when they went into labor, and had rushed to their sides at Potter Manor as son as he could.

"It went well." Harry said with a sly grin. "We've rounded up the last of Voldemort's supporters, and convinced them that muggle involvement in the wizarding world would only lead to the rising of another dark lord as resentment against muggles grew. They're going to back off, and let us get things 'normalized' for a while. By the time they think to change anything we'll have things comfortably in place that it won't be possible."

"Good." Hermione said with a nod. "We've got kids to raise, Harry, and I want to make sure they grow up without another Voldemort around."

"Speaking of which, I better go see Draco." Harry said with a glimmer of pain. Harry really wanted to feel his husband's arms around him right now.

###

Draco Potter-Malfoy stood at his son's crib and looked down into the sleeping infant's face with a sad smile. He was so small, and his first glimpse of his newborn son had almost given him a heart attack. Seeing dark-red hair on a Malfoy was impossible, but the medi-witch had wiped the infant's head and he realized the redness had been from the birthing fluids. The little boy in the crib had Malfoy-blond hair, and Potter-green eyes.

Draco had never seen a more beautiful child.

Even the dark-red haired girl in the other crib was beautiful, but this boy, this child was his child, his and Harry's. That thought sent all manner of thoughts tumbling through Draco's head, but he forced them down for the moment. The moment he'd been waiting for was at hand, and five years of patience and hard work were at hand. The waiting was over and the Dark Lord would rise again.

Draco thought back to those many years ago, and the wild plan that he'd been given by Voldemort himself. The Dark Lord had known Pettigrew's potion had not worked, had known he was dying even then, and had hatched this plan, a plan Draco had thought would be impossible, but turned out to have worked nearly perfectly.

The Dark Lord needed life, and he knew his possession of Harry Potter would fail. Thus he'd known that something else was necessary. Of all the potential followers he could use to seduce Harry Potter and lead him down this path, the Dark Lord had chosen Draco Malfoy.

Initially Draco had resisted. He hated Potter, totally and completely. Potter represented everything that Draco despised, and the mere thought of being with him was revolting. Besides, Potter wasn't even Pureblood!

Still, the Dark Lord had given him an order, and Draco had complied, as the Dark Lord knew he would. Draco was a Malfoy after all. The plan would have failed though, if Draco hadn't taken that first potion.

The potion was subtle, something that required brewing at a level only Draco could achieve without using Severus Snape. Snape was kept out of this plan, to keep his initial reactions genuine. They'd suspected he might have more loyalty to Dumbledore, but back then no one had suspected the level of the Potion Master's duplicity.

The potion had been subtle indeed, inverting Draco's feelings for anyone he cast a spell at while it was in his system. That had been what allowed him to befriend Potter at first, and then to go deeper. By the time the engagement bracelets had been locked on his wrist, the feelings were so deeply engrained that they fooled all the tests. They had only begun to fade after their wedding, long after the protective spirits had left the bracelets.

Still, he'd been faithful to Potter because any unfaithful acts would have caused the bracelet to fall off, even after marriage. He'd guided Potter down the path of the Blood Oath, and the Dark Arts out of feelings of love and protectiveness for his husband. As the potion's effects wore off, and his memories of Voldemort's orders returned, Draco saw just how grand the Dark Lord's plans were, and how perfect.

Now, the moment of the Dark Lord's birth was at hand, and he, Draco Malfoy, would be the Dark Lord's savior. Draco took the necklace out, smiling at how easily Harry had let him start wearing it over the past year. It still glowed red, the color of Voldemort's eyes, and Draco knew the spirit locked inside still waited to be released into a new body.

Draco stared down at the sleeping child, his first-born son, and smiled again. Moving carefully he held out his hand so the crystal globe hung over the child's forehead. Now all Draco would have to do is say the spell, and the Dark Lord's spirit would flow from the crystal and into the newborn child, his child, and Harry's.

Harry's.

That was the one flaw in the plan, the one weakness that threatened Voldemort's grand scheme. The one thing that stayed Draco's hand from casting the final spell. He'd told Granger that there was no way, short of breaking the crystal to release Voldemort's spirit, but that had been a lie. There were two ways. One would allow Voldemort to enter, to possess another.

That was what the plan was, for Voldemort's spirit to enter this child's body. As the child grew, so would the memories of his life as Voldemort until he reached eleven, when Voldemort's full spirit would revive and forever take over the body. As the father, and for having made it possible, Draco would experience rewards undreamed in the history of Death Eaters.

Yet, Draco paused in casting the spell.

The Malfoys had supported the Dark Lord to rid the wizarding world of the threat posed by muggles. Harry had done that in a different way, but the wizarding world was no longer threatened by muggles and would not be for the foreseeable future. Voldemort's objectives had been achieved in a way the Dark Lord would never have dreamed.

The Harry that Draco had known in school, the whining, insufferable prat, was long gone. In his place was a strong, confident, and powerful Harry Potter who was more than worthy of being Draco's equal. More importantly, Draco had to admit that while the effects of the potion had worn off and he was able to feel his own real emotions, one thing had not changed.

He, Draco Malfoy, loved Harry Potter completely and truly.

"Absolvus!" Draco half-muttered, and half-shouted, waving his wand at the crystal globe of his and Harry's son's head. For a moment he heard a silent shriek, and then the crystal was pure, clean of the spirit that had been housed there for two years. That spirit, instead of entering their son, dissolved into nothingness, gone to wherever the spirits of the dead left once their bodies were dead. History might record that Harry Potter destroyed Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts through the power of his love for others, but Draco knew that it was here, in the nursery, where Harry Potter destroyed Voldemort through the power of the love another had for Harry.

"I love you, Harry Potter." Draco said aloud, for the first time admitting to himself the full truth: that his heart and his future lay with Harry.

"I love you, too, Draco Malfoy." Harry's voice startled him, and he turned to see Harry putting his own wand back into the sash of his expensive green robe. Harry's face had a gentle smile on it, and Draco sighed in both relief and amazement. It wasn't until he felt the wetness dripping down his face that he realized he was crying. With a sob, he crossed the distance between him and Harry and buried his head in Harry's chest. Harry made soothing sounds as he slowly rubbed Draco's head in a comforting gesture.

"I…I'm so sorry, Harry." Draco managed to mutter as he sobbed in a way that he knew was undignified, but he didn't care at that moment.

"Shhh, it's okay my love." Harry's soft voice was like a balm to Draco's soul. "I love you now and forever."

###

The End