Categories > Books > Harry Potter > War
Death
A violent hurricane had assaulted Great Britain and Hogwarts was not spared its ferocity in the least. Wind howled between Hogwarts' mighty towers, assaulting its heavy walls with thick sheets of rain, the grounds were beginning to flood as the trees heaved and bucked with the wind, their creaks and groans lost amidst the tumulus roar of the storm. A thick branch from some inconspicuous tree smashed against a window, but to no avail, the wards and protections upon the mighty school-fortress held firm and not a scratch was to be seen upon the aged glass. In the midst of the great chaos Hogwarts held steady, Voldemort was growing stronger, a full out war was brewing, neither side could get a foothold, as it stood things were at a perilous stalemate. Inside, two of the most important people stood sleeplessly, one aged and weary like the castle, but nevertheless immovable and strong as ever. The other, young and powerful looked into the eyes of his love.
Harry broke the passionate kiss and looked into Hermione's chocolate brown eyes. "I love you." He whispered. "I give you my soul Hermione, my life, my everything. Without you I would be lost or dead, you are my guiding light, my angel."
Tears brimmed Hermione's eyes. "I love you too Harry, more then you will ever know." She kissed him again, trying desperately to show him what he meant to her.
They were in the room of requirement, it was seventh year and Harry had just proposed not more then a half hour ago. As their kisses grew more fierce and passionate the food and table cleared away and were replaced with a lavish bed. Neither of them cared to notice as Hermione fell back onto the bed, keeping Harry on top of her and beginning to unbutton his shirt. As the seconds and minutes progressed things got more and more passionate as Hermione finally gave herself up to her one and only love, Harry.
A grassy field, a storm, a dark figure. Voldemort. "We settle this tonight Potter, just like you wanted. Me and you, no one else. Do not keep me waiting." The words came out like ice, deep red eyes borrowing into Harry's mind.
Harry woke up slowly but alertly. Hermione was sleeping naked beside him, her head on his chest with a most content smile. A lone candle's light bounced off the diamond on her gentle finger. Harry smiled and sighed, knowing what he had to do.
'I'm doing this for you Hermione, I'm doing this for everyone, for my parents, for Sirius, for the Weasley's, everyone. I won't sit by any more and let people die, I am ready, its time to face my destiny. I love Hermione. My wife.' Harry smiled with grim determination and got ready.
It didn't take him long; he had prepared his cloths, his wand, everything. The portkey that he had created almost a month ago was in his pocket, waiting for him to touch it. This was the night, when everything would end, one way or another, but now Harry had too much to lose, he had to win, no matter the cost he would.
Giving Hermione one last kiss on the cheek he saw her smile a little more and snuggle tightly into his pillow. "I love you." He whispered and touched the snake medallion in his pocket.
The cold rain, so different from the warm room he had come from attacked his senses as lightning blazed overhead, illuminating the scene before him, as Harry stood no more then five feet away from Voldemort.
Steadily holding his wand Harry looked into Voldemort's eyes, emerald green met blood red. "Come now Harry, there is no need to play games anymore, they have irritated me far enough already." Voldemort threw his wand on the wet roiling grass and burst in a shower of green flame.
Harry grinned, throwing away his wand and destroying it entirely in a burst of green flame, he merely had to think it, there was no longer any need for a wand. "As you wish."
"On the count of five. One" Said Voldemort, his eyes never leaving Harry's as he backed up one step.
"Two." Harry backed up one step exactly.
"Three." Voldemort held his hands at his sides.
"Four." Determination blazed within him.
"Five."
Two spells erupted in mid air as the last number was spoken. The shockwave threw Harry and Voldemort off their feet, sending them to the ground, but even as they fell they kept casting spells that burst around them in spectacular colors. Spells struck each other, exploding and sending the water flying outwards, dirt and grass were kicked up as they both held nothing back. Shields were put up, shields were knocked down, explosions rattled the ground, the air. It was war. Harry and Voldemort were not just wizards, they were armies in and of themselves, throwing everything they had at each other. The sound was deafening, the sights blinding. They fought on for a whole hour, neither one able to gain any sort of advantage, but as the time wore on and the combatants grew tired Voldemort began to gain the upper hand, his years experience and ability coming out as Harry began to falter. And then it happened; a spell broke past the defenses and Harry's limp body fell to the ground.
The storm ceased, the wind grew quiet as everything was still, nothing moved, nothing was heard. The bright moon illuminated the scene as Voldemort cautiously stepped closer. Standing over Harry's body he laughed, the sound utterly cold and merciless, utterly cruel and evil. Tired, and near exhaustion he apparated away, a cold look of triumph on his face as he cackled gleefully.
*
"This O26 approaching the sight of disturbance." The sergeant reported as his Humvee plowed through the fields, oblivious of the various little obstacles in its way as it went through ditches and mud with ease. "Things have been calm since the report five minutes ago, we are unable to see anything, but there are definite signs of combat."
"Damn Sarg this is fucked up! The whole bloody field looks like its been turned upside down by artillery and hell knows what else. I saw a tank company do a demonstration one time and even they didn't mess the field up that bad." The driver said as he looked about nervously. The Sergeant was reporting the situation as they went and manning the .50 Cal. There were only two of them with no back up. Nothing about this seemed right.
He drove through slowing, scanning for signs of anything, nothing, not even tracks showed up.
"Fifty yards right we got a body!" The Sergeant hollered as the driver swung the Humvee around and stopped a few yards away.
"Cover me with the fifty, I'm gonna check it out." The sergeant ordered.
The driver swung out from his seat and clambered to the weapon as the sergeant made his way out, gun ready.
The Sergeant looked the body over, the guy was no more then twenty, young. He checked his pulse, for a second he didn't feel a thing, and then one heart beat. Water droplets landed on the man's face and his eyelids opened and closed slowly.
"He's alive, checking for I.D." The Sergeant hollered. After a quick search the only thing he found was a medallion with a snake on it. "Got nothing except a medallion, help me carry this guy into the truck. Together the two men lifted the man into the back of the Humvee and strapped him in.
The Sergeant looked about him, they were out in the middle of a field which looked like it had a whole heavy weapons division unload on it, but, with absolutely no tracks or signs of anything except a half dead twenty year old. He knew for a fact that their own tank division hadn't gone anywhere and no one wanted to go out in this weather, the equipment cleaning after would be murder. Climbing back into the truck he nodded for the driver to get back to base and radioed in their findings. "This is O26 over."
"Roger O26 what's your status?"
"We've found one body, male, no more then about twenty years old. Seems to be suffering from a sever case of exhaustion and trauma. No cuts bruises or broken bones upon first impression. We found him in the middle of a field that looked like it had just been raided, but we have found no tracks whatsoever."
"Come on home O26."
"Copy that." The Sergeant replied.
*
Hermione's happiness lasted mere seconds before she realized that something was wrong, something very very bad had happened. Firstly Harry wasn't in the room, secondly his cloths were gone and finally her stomach was in a knot. Getting out of bed she scrambled to find the Maurader's map, meanwhile feeling completely and utterly sick.
"Find Harry." She commanded once she found the map. Nothing happened.
"Find Ron." The map instantly found Ron, with Luna right beside him in the common room.
Throwing on some cloths she ran down to the common room as fast she could, the knot in the pit of her stomach getting tighter and tighter until she felt like she was about to throw up. Rushing into the common room she collided with Ron and Luna.
"Have you seen Harry!?" Both of them asked at the same time. Ron looked like he hadn't slept at all, his eyes were red and his face was pale.
"I think that something bad has happened to him, don't ask me how but Harry needs our help." Ron said quickly.
"You're telling me!" Hermione cried.
"This seems pretty serious if both of you are feeling like this, I would say go to Dumbledore right now, even I feel kinda strange." Luna advised.
At that moment Ginny and Neville came rushing down the stairs. "Something doesn't feel right." She called out to them. Upon seeing Ron and Hermione's face she knew that something was very wrong indeed.
Not wasting a moment the five Gryffindors ran down to Dumbledore's office, all of them looked completely out of it as they reached the Gargoyle who was already out of the way. Making their way up the spiral staircase they heard sobbing from within.
"Come in." Called out Dumbledore's strained voice.
Slowly opening the door and walking inside they found Professor McGonagall crying and sobbing in a chair. When she saw them she tried her best to compose herself and walked over to them, not daring to look anyone of them in the eye. "I am so sorry."
"No...no..." Hermione looked over at Dumbledore, his eyes were puffy and red and he the look of a man who had lost something very dear to him.
Trembling and crying Hermione fell to her knees. "WHY!" She bawled, hitting the floor with her fists.
Ron stood there for a second and then sat down in a chair, his face vacant of all emotion, of everything, of a will to live.
Neville turned around and began punching the door as hard as he could, yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. "I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!! RIP VOLDEMORT LIMB FROM FU-CK-ING LIMB!!!
Luna and Ginny cried in each other's arms as Professor McGonagall tried in vain to comfort Hermione.
After a while Ron finally looked up at Dumbledore and asked. "Is Voldemort dead?"
"No." Dumbledore replied softly.
"Then we'll just have to kill him then." Ron said with a look of cold hatred.
Excusing themselves the group slowly made their way out into the grounds, the storm had subsided its merciless attack but it still hovered above, blocking out the light and casting everything into deep sullen gray. No one spoke for a long time as they walked around; they went to the lake, the forest, everywhere. They simple thought, took things in, and attempted to come to terms with reality.
Hermione was the first to break the silence. "He proposed to me." She said with a sad smile. "We made love. We were going to be married, have a family, live happily ever after. But that. That will never be."
"He was more then a best friend. He was like a brother." Ron said quietly.
"He was our leader. I just don't know how we can go on." Said Neville, breaking another stick in half.
"Oh but you are wrong. We will go, we will kill Voldemort, we will as you so delicately put it rip him limb from fucking limb." Ron had stopped and looked at all of them in turn. "We will kill Voldemort and we will kill anything and anyone that stands in our way."
No one else said anything, but they didn't have to say anything, they understood.
This was a war they could not lose, a war the world could not lose, and if they did, well then, they would see Harry. Sooner or later, they would see him and he would be proud.
By the time Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville got back to Hogwarts everyone had been informed of what had happened. The great hall was decorated in Gryffindor colors, but no one smiled. When anyone saw Harry's best friends they would nod or say a few comforting words. All of the Weasleys had arrived at the castle by lunchtime and told of the news. Molly and Jan Granger had both feinted upon hearing the news. For many it was a breaking point, a point of no hope, Harry was their last hope in the past couple years and now he was gone. Others vowed to stand and fight to their last breath. Fred and George immediately converted their joke shop into a non-profit weapons factory, creating many nasty anti-deatheater products.
Harry's funeral was held two days later at Hogwarts. There was one giant ceremony to which almost everyone came to pay his or her respects. Because Harry's body could not be found it was a closed casket. During the funeral Hermione made an emotional and beautiful speech, at the end she revealed the most shocking news of all.
"And Harry will forever be with us." She said sobbing. "Because...Because I am pregnant with his child." She said with sad smile that also had a hint of hope, of happiness. "His name will live on."
*
A limousine pulled up to the Registry building at the Thirty Second Armored Devision's base. A man in a black suit walked out, rich and important, with wide shoulders and a hard jaw line. His bright calculating gray eyes took in the scene around him and he entered the building with an air of authority.
"Name?" Asked a female clerk at the registry desk.
"Frank Miller." Came the clipped response.
She scanned her computer screen and suddenly sat straighter. "Yes Sir, please follow me Sir."
Frank Miller followed her to the infirmary where a doctor awaited their arrival.
"Hello sir, my name is..." The doctor began but was cut off.
"Stephenson, show me the patient." Again a quick clipped order.
Stephenson wanted to ask how he knew his name but thought better of it. "Right here sir." He led him to a closed room.
"Tell me what you know." Miller instructed before they went any further.
"Well we saw flashes and..." Again he was cut off.
"Yes I know about all that, tell me about the man himself."
Stephenson looked at him curiously but began explaining without saying anything, when dealing with these kinds of people he found that thinking was not a good thing unless told to so. "Well we estimate that he is anywhere from about seventeen to twentyish, he has been through a lot in his life let's just say that. He is pretty well-built, good physical shape, no problems of any sort, internally or externally. He has a scar on his forehead, can't really tell from what but its really old, my guess is about childhood. Either way it doesn't really matter. When he was brought in his body was past the point of exhaustion, entering a coma. We stabilized him and he came back after about thirty-two hours. Bottom line is amnesia. He can speak, walk, read, write, pretty good at mathematics; smart guy actually. All in all he seems well educated, just can't remember who he is, doesn't know how he got anywhere or really remember much of anything at all, poor guy doesn't even know his name. There is one funny thing, he keeps saying one name."
"What name?"
"Hermione."
"Does he have any possessions?"
"Well not really, he has a medallion and he wore what appear to be wizard robes." Stephenson said with a laugh at the end.
Miller did not laugh. "I want to speak with him. Alone."
Stephenson handing him the key and having not received any further orders wait outside the door.
Walking in Miller noticed the man had been reading a book before he walked in. "Hello son."
"Hey...who are you?"
"Frank Miller, I'm a psychologist, expert on memory."
"So you can help me get my memory back then?"
"I can try."
"Ok sounds good."
"Now, I'm going to ask you a few questions and you reply with whatever comes to mind first, ok?"
"Alright."
"Abra..." He indicated a pause with his voice.
"Kadevra."
"Your name is?"
"Dunno."
"You live in?"
Shrug.
"I need you to say what you think, even if you don't know just say you don't know."
"Ok."
"Crucio."
"Pain."
"Why pain?" Asked miller.
"I don't know. Its just the first thing that came to mind."
"Ok lets continue on."
"Berty N' Bots."
"Jelly beans."
The questions went on for a little while longer before Miller was finally satisfied.
"Okay, here is what we'll do now. I'm going to take you to another base, it's a rather lengthy trip but you'll find it pleasant. We'll talk on the way, maybe you'll be able to remember something." Miller told him.
"Whatever you say."
"Okay good, gather up your cloths, I'll wait for you outside."
"The man is coming with me, I'll wait for him outside. You will receive all your documentation within ten minutes." Miller told Stephenson outside the room before flipping on his cell and dialing a secure number.
"We got our first one. Amnesia, good shape. Answers correspond with what we've seen and the box of candy, apparently its popular."
"Avada Kadevra, Crucio, the jellybeans, all of them?"
"Every single one."
"So do you think we have a starting point?"
"I think we may have a leader, we can build the squad around him, I have a good feeling about him, don't know why. Call it a gut instinct. We'll run tests and all, but things look good so far."
"What about the area?"
"It all matches."
"Well its your call, you're the one in charge. Still seems a bit risky. I mean what if he ends up being powerful, and if we teach him and equip him to such an extent that it makes Special Forces look like your average cops, like you said. And the he goes and remembers everything, wouldn't he then be unstoppable?"
"Nukes are also risky."
"This can prove to be a lot more devastating then a nuke though, with what he and his squad will know..."
"That's why we'll be careful, we'll treat them well, with respect, and when and if the time comes they will be on our side. He also appears to be 'The boy who lived' you know the thing we read in the newspaper?"
"What...But if that newspaper holds any truth? Then this guy must be one of the most powerful ones of them all, do you know what this means?"
"Just make sure things are ready by the time we arrive."
"They will be don't worry."
Miller turned off his cell phone and waited for the man with the scar on his forehead out by the limo.
"You ready son?" Asked Miller.
"I guess so." Replied the man as he got into the car. After a moment inside the limo he asked. "Do you know who I am at all?"
"I know what you are."
"And what's that?"
"A wizard."
A violent hurricane had assaulted Great Britain and Hogwarts was not spared its ferocity in the least. Wind howled between Hogwarts' mighty towers, assaulting its heavy walls with thick sheets of rain, the grounds were beginning to flood as the trees heaved and bucked with the wind, their creaks and groans lost amidst the tumulus roar of the storm. A thick branch from some inconspicuous tree smashed against a window, but to no avail, the wards and protections upon the mighty school-fortress held firm and not a scratch was to be seen upon the aged glass. In the midst of the great chaos Hogwarts held steady, Voldemort was growing stronger, a full out war was brewing, neither side could get a foothold, as it stood things were at a perilous stalemate. Inside, two of the most important people stood sleeplessly, one aged and weary like the castle, but nevertheless immovable and strong as ever. The other, young and powerful looked into the eyes of his love.
Harry broke the passionate kiss and looked into Hermione's chocolate brown eyes. "I love you." He whispered. "I give you my soul Hermione, my life, my everything. Without you I would be lost or dead, you are my guiding light, my angel."
Tears brimmed Hermione's eyes. "I love you too Harry, more then you will ever know." She kissed him again, trying desperately to show him what he meant to her.
They were in the room of requirement, it was seventh year and Harry had just proposed not more then a half hour ago. As their kisses grew more fierce and passionate the food and table cleared away and were replaced with a lavish bed. Neither of them cared to notice as Hermione fell back onto the bed, keeping Harry on top of her and beginning to unbutton his shirt. As the seconds and minutes progressed things got more and more passionate as Hermione finally gave herself up to her one and only love, Harry.
A grassy field, a storm, a dark figure. Voldemort. "We settle this tonight Potter, just like you wanted. Me and you, no one else. Do not keep me waiting." The words came out like ice, deep red eyes borrowing into Harry's mind.
Harry woke up slowly but alertly. Hermione was sleeping naked beside him, her head on his chest with a most content smile. A lone candle's light bounced off the diamond on her gentle finger. Harry smiled and sighed, knowing what he had to do.
'I'm doing this for you Hermione, I'm doing this for everyone, for my parents, for Sirius, for the Weasley's, everyone. I won't sit by any more and let people die, I am ready, its time to face my destiny. I love Hermione. My wife.' Harry smiled with grim determination and got ready.
It didn't take him long; he had prepared his cloths, his wand, everything. The portkey that he had created almost a month ago was in his pocket, waiting for him to touch it. This was the night, when everything would end, one way or another, but now Harry had too much to lose, he had to win, no matter the cost he would.
Giving Hermione one last kiss on the cheek he saw her smile a little more and snuggle tightly into his pillow. "I love you." He whispered and touched the snake medallion in his pocket.
The cold rain, so different from the warm room he had come from attacked his senses as lightning blazed overhead, illuminating the scene before him, as Harry stood no more then five feet away from Voldemort.
Steadily holding his wand Harry looked into Voldemort's eyes, emerald green met blood red. "Come now Harry, there is no need to play games anymore, they have irritated me far enough already." Voldemort threw his wand on the wet roiling grass and burst in a shower of green flame.
Harry grinned, throwing away his wand and destroying it entirely in a burst of green flame, he merely had to think it, there was no longer any need for a wand. "As you wish."
"On the count of five. One" Said Voldemort, his eyes never leaving Harry's as he backed up one step.
"Two." Harry backed up one step exactly.
"Three." Voldemort held his hands at his sides.
"Four." Determination blazed within him.
"Five."
Two spells erupted in mid air as the last number was spoken. The shockwave threw Harry and Voldemort off their feet, sending them to the ground, but even as they fell they kept casting spells that burst around them in spectacular colors. Spells struck each other, exploding and sending the water flying outwards, dirt and grass were kicked up as they both held nothing back. Shields were put up, shields were knocked down, explosions rattled the ground, the air. It was war. Harry and Voldemort were not just wizards, they were armies in and of themselves, throwing everything they had at each other. The sound was deafening, the sights blinding. They fought on for a whole hour, neither one able to gain any sort of advantage, but as the time wore on and the combatants grew tired Voldemort began to gain the upper hand, his years experience and ability coming out as Harry began to falter. And then it happened; a spell broke past the defenses and Harry's limp body fell to the ground.
The storm ceased, the wind grew quiet as everything was still, nothing moved, nothing was heard. The bright moon illuminated the scene as Voldemort cautiously stepped closer. Standing over Harry's body he laughed, the sound utterly cold and merciless, utterly cruel and evil. Tired, and near exhaustion he apparated away, a cold look of triumph on his face as he cackled gleefully.
*
"This O26 approaching the sight of disturbance." The sergeant reported as his Humvee plowed through the fields, oblivious of the various little obstacles in its way as it went through ditches and mud with ease. "Things have been calm since the report five minutes ago, we are unable to see anything, but there are definite signs of combat."
"Damn Sarg this is fucked up! The whole bloody field looks like its been turned upside down by artillery and hell knows what else. I saw a tank company do a demonstration one time and even they didn't mess the field up that bad." The driver said as he looked about nervously. The Sergeant was reporting the situation as they went and manning the .50 Cal. There were only two of them with no back up. Nothing about this seemed right.
He drove through slowing, scanning for signs of anything, nothing, not even tracks showed up.
"Fifty yards right we got a body!" The Sergeant hollered as the driver swung the Humvee around and stopped a few yards away.
"Cover me with the fifty, I'm gonna check it out." The sergeant ordered.
The driver swung out from his seat and clambered to the weapon as the sergeant made his way out, gun ready.
The Sergeant looked the body over, the guy was no more then twenty, young. He checked his pulse, for a second he didn't feel a thing, and then one heart beat. Water droplets landed on the man's face and his eyelids opened and closed slowly.
"He's alive, checking for I.D." The Sergeant hollered. After a quick search the only thing he found was a medallion with a snake on it. "Got nothing except a medallion, help me carry this guy into the truck. Together the two men lifted the man into the back of the Humvee and strapped him in.
The Sergeant looked about him, they were out in the middle of a field which looked like it had a whole heavy weapons division unload on it, but, with absolutely no tracks or signs of anything except a half dead twenty year old. He knew for a fact that their own tank division hadn't gone anywhere and no one wanted to go out in this weather, the equipment cleaning after would be murder. Climbing back into the truck he nodded for the driver to get back to base and radioed in their findings. "This is O26 over."
"Roger O26 what's your status?"
"We've found one body, male, no more then about twenty years old. Seems to be suffering from a sever case of exhaustion and trauma. No cuts bruises or broken bones upon first impression. We found him in the middle of a field that looked like it had just been raided, but we have found no tracks whatsoever."
"Come on home O26."
"Copy that." The Sergeant replied.
*
Hermione's happiness lasted mere seconds before she realized that something was wrong, something very very bad had happened. Firstly Harry wasn't in the room, secondly his cloths were gone and finally her stomach was in a knot. Getting out of bed she scrambled to find the Maurader's map, meanwhile feeling completely and utterly sick.
"Find Harry." She commanded once she found the map. Nothing happened.
"Find Ron." The map instantly found Ron, with Luna right beside him in the common room.
Throwing on some cloths she ran down to the common room as fast she could, the knot in the pit of her stomach getting tighter and tighter until she felt like she was about to throw up. Rushing into the common room she collided with Ron and Luna.
"Have you seen Harry!?" Both of them asked at the same time. Ron looked like he hadn't slept at all, his eyes were red and his face was pale.
"I think that something bad has happened to him, don't ask me how but Harry needs our help." Ron said quickly.
"You're telling me!" Hermione cried.
"This seems pretty serious if both of you are feeling like this, I would say go to Dumbledore right now, even I feel kinda strange." Luna advised.
At that moment Ginny and Neville came rushing down the stairs. "Something doesn't feel right." She called out to them. Upon seeing Ron and Hermione's face she knew that something was very wrong indeed.
Not wasting a moment the five Gryffindors ran down to Dumbledore's office, all of them looked completely out of it as they reached the Gargoyle who was already out of the way. Making their way up the spiral staircase they heard sobbing from within.
"Come in." Called out Dumbledore's strained voice.
Slowly opening the door and walking inside they found Professor McGonagall crying and sobbing in a chair. When she saw them she tried her best to compose herself and walked over to them, not daring to look anyone of them in the eye. "I am so sorry."
"No...no..." Hermione looked over at Dumbledore, his eyes were puffy and red and he the look of a man who had lost something very dear to him.
Trembling and crying Hermione fell to her knees. "WHY!" She bawled, hitting the floor with her fists.
Ron stood there for a second and then sat down in a chair, his face vacant of all emotion, of everything, of a will to live.
Neville turned around and began punching the door as hard as he could, yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. "I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!! RIP VOLDEMORT LIMB FROM FU-CK-ING LIMB!!!
Luna and Ginny cried in each other's arms as Professor McGonagall tried in vain to comfort Hermione.
After a while Ron finally looked up at Dumbledore and asked. "Is Voldemort dead?"
"No." Dumbledore replied softly.
"Then we'll just have to kill him then." Ron said with a look of cold hatred.
Excusing themselves the group slowly made their way out into the grounds, the storm had subsided its merciless attack but it still hovered above, blocking out the light and casting everything into deep sullen gray. No one spoke for a long time as they walked around; they went to the lake, the forest, everywhere. They simple thought, took things in, and attempted to come to terms with reality.
Hermione was the first to break the silence. "He proposed to me." She said with a sad smile. "We made love. We were going to be married, have a family, live happily ever after. But that. That will never be."
"He was more then a best friend. He was like a brother." Ron said quietly.
"He was our leader. I just don't know how we can go on." Said Neville, breaking another stick in half.
"Oh but you are wrong. We will go, we will kill Voldemort, we will as you so delicately put it rip him limb from fucking limb." Ron had stopped and looked at all of them in turn. "We will kill Voldemort and we will kill anything and anyone that stands in our way."
No one else said anything, but they didn't have to say anything, they understood.
This was a war they could not lose, a war the world could not lose, and if they did, well then, they would see Harry. Sooner or later, they would see him and he would be proud.
By the time Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville got back to Hogwarts everyone had been informed of what had happened. The great hall was decorated in Gryffindor colors, but no one smiled. When anyone saw Harry's best friends they would nod or say a few comforting words. All of the Weasleys had arrived at the castle by lunchtime and told of the news. Molly and Jan Granger had both feinted upon hearing the news. For many it was a breaking point, a point of no hope, Harry was their last hope in the past couple years and now he was gone. Others vowed to stand and fight to their last breath. Fred and George immediately converted their joke shop into a non-profit weapons factory, creating many nasty anti-deatheater products.
Harry's funeral was held two days later at Hogwarts. There was one giant ceremony to which almost everyone came to pay his or her respects. Because Harry's body could not be found it was a closed casket. During the funeral Hermione made an emotional and beautiful speech, at the end she revealed the most shocking news of all.
"And Harry will forever be with us." She said sobbing. "Because...Because I am pregnant with his child." She said with sad smile that also had a hint of hope, of happiness. "His name will live on."
*
A limousine pulled up to the Registry building at the Thirty Second Armored Devision's base. A man in a black suit walked out, rich and important, with wide shoulders and a hard jaw line. His bright calculating gray eyes took in the scene around him and he entered the building with an air of authority.
"Name?" Asked a female clerk at the registry desk.
"Frank Miller." Came the clipped response.
She scanned her computer screen and suddenly sat straighter. "Yes Sir, please follow me Sir."
Frank Miller followed her to the infirmary where a doctor awaited their arrival.
"Hello sir, my name is..." The doctor began but was cut off.
"Stephenson, show me the patient." Again a quick clipped order.
Stephenson wanted to ask how he knew his name but thought better of it. "Right here sir." He led him to a closed room.
"Tell me what you know." Miller instructed before they went any further.
"Well we saw flashes and..." Again he was cut off.
"Yes I know about all that, tell me about the man himself."
Stephenson looked at him curiously but began explaining without saying anything, when dealing with these kinds of people he found that thinking was not a good thing unless told to so. "Well we estimate that he is anywhere from about seventeen to twentyish, he has been through a lot in his life let's just say that. He is pretty well-built, good physical shape, no problems of any sort, internally or externally. He has a scar on his forehead, can't really tell from what but its really old, my guess is about childhood. Either way it doesn't really matter. When he was brought in his body was past the point of exhaustion, entering a coma. We stabilized him and he came back after about thirty-two hours. Bottom line is amnesia. He can speak, walk, read, write, pretty good at mathematics; smart guy actually. All in all he seems well educated, just can't remember who he is, doesn't know how he got anywhere or really remember much of anything at all, poor guy doesn't even know his name. There is one funny thing, he keeps saying one name."
"What name?"
"Hermione."
"Does he have any possessions?"
"Well not really, he has a medallion and he wore what appear to be wizard robes." Stephenson said with a laugh at the end.
Miller did not laugh. "I want to speak with him. Alone."
Stephenson handing him the key and having not received any further orders wait outside the door.
Walking in Miller noticed the man had been reading a book before he walked in. "Hello son."
"Hey...who are you?"
"Frank Miller, I'm a psychologist, expert on memory."
"So you can help me get my memory back then?"
"I can try."
"Ok sounds good."
"Now, I'm going to ask you a few questions and you reply with whatever comes to mind first, ok?"
"Alright."
"Abra..." He indicated a pause with his voice.
"Kadevra."
"Your name is?"
"Dunno."
"You live in?"
Shrug.
"I need you to say what you think, even if you don't know just say you don't know."
"Ok."
"Crucio."
"Pain."
"Why pain?" Asked miller.
"I don't know. Its just the first thing that came to mind."
"Ok lets continue on."
"Berty N' Bots."
"Jelly beans."
The questions went on for a little while longer before Miller was finally satisfied.
"Okay, here is what we'll do now. I'm going to take you to another base, it's a rather lengthy trip but you'll find it pleasant. We'll talk on the way, maybe you'll be able to remember something." Miller told him.
"Whatever you say."
"Okay good, gather up your cloths, I'll wait for you outside."
"The man is coming with me, I'll wait for him outside. You will receive all your documentation within ten minutes." Miller told Stephenson outside the room before flipping on his cell and dialing a secure number.
"We got our first one. Amnesia, good shape. Answers correspond with what we've seen and the box of candy, apparently its popular."
"Avada Kadevra, Crucio, the jellybeans, all of them?"
"Every single one."
"So do you think we have a starting point?"
"I think we may have a leader, we can build the squad around him, I have a good feeling about him, don't know why. Call it a gut instinct. We'll run tests and all, but things look good so far."
"What about the area?"
"It all matches."
"Well its your call, you're the one in charge. Still seems a bit risky. I mean what if he ends up being powerful, and if we teach him and equip him to such an extent that it makes Special Forces look like your average cops, like you said. And the he goes and remembers everything, wouldn't he then be unstoppable?"
"Nukes are also risky."
"This can prove to be a lot more devastating then a nuke though, with what he and his squad will know..."
"That's why we'll be careful, we'll treat them well, with respect, and when and if the time comes they will be on our side. He also appears to be 'The boy who lived' you know the thing we read in the newspaper?"
"What...But if that newspaper holds any truth? Then this guy must be one of the most powerful ones of them all, do you know what this means?"
"Just make sure things are ready by the time we arrive."
"They will be don't worry."
Miller turned off his cell phone and waited for the man with the scar on his forehead out by the limo.
"You ready son?" Asked Miller.
"I guess so." Replied the man as he got into the car. After a moment inside the limo he asked. "Do you know who I am at all?"
"I know what you are."
"And what's that?"
"A wizard."
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