.

So far... After Luna taught him to dance, Harry and Luna kiss under the mistletoe at the Yule Ball and become inseparable. In the 2nd Task, Luna frees herself and Harry merely carries her out of the lake. The apparent heroic rescue and success of a Hogwarts champion greatly eases the school's attitude to the pair and even Ron is now talking to Harry. But the final task remain. Now read on...

.

Chapter 6

Confinement and Closure

.

~~~ Uncovering the Final Task ~~~

The six friends stayed at Hogwarts through the Easter holidays, and when the summer term began, bringing with it warmer weather, they were often together, sprawled out under a beech tree near the lake where Harry had almost drowned. Luna was lying with her head in Harry's lap, looking up at his face, framed by the leafery of the beech canopy above him. Neville was clutching a packet of fat butter biscuits into which Ginny dipped now and again.

"What you reckon the next task will be, Harry?" asked Ginny.

But Harry had spotted Tonks sitting cross-legged at the edge of his group of friends, and almost one of them. Although her eyes were constantly scanning the grounds for any sign of trouble, she smiled when Luna reached up and feathered Harry's face with her fingertips. The moment Tonks saw she had Harry's attention she pout-kissed the back of her hand and made goo-goo eyes at him, mouthing, Give her one, Harry! Harry's face felt very hot all of a sudden.

He had already been uncomfortable because her Not-Notice charm made him almost forget about her most of the time, and that she had to spend so much time all alone. Nobody else seemed to see her at all, even Luna, except those periods when Harry was in an innocent huddle with the Auror in the corridors of Hogwarts. But Luna understood now better than Harry, that Tonks' cheeky and cheerful disposition was an attempt to help Harry lighten up, to give him a few minutes distraction from worrying about the danger he was in.

Dear Luna... mused Harry, stroking her hair.

"Harry?" urged Ginny, again. "The next task?"

"Huh? Aah... yeah, well, Malfoy got it wrong twice, but what if he really heard something, and what if it was for the third task not the first or second?"

"That's very unlikely," said Hermione swiftly before he had even finished.

"Harry, this is Malfoy we're talking about!" said Ron. "He's a foul git and you can't rely on anything he says."

"Perhaps this time there may be some accidental truth in what he said though," piped up Luna.

"What do you mean?" said Ginny.

"Clearly, the first task involved death by fire while the second was by water..."

"The four classic elements!" cried Hermione. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

"The what?" said Ron.

"The four elements known to antiquity. They are fire, water, earth, and air, so..."

"So the final task might involve flying or, more likely, being enclosed... or trapped in – something connected with the ground like the puzzle traps I mentioned." He frowned. "Hermione, is there a digging spell I could learn? It wouldn't hurt to know one, just in case."

Ginny pulled up a tuft of grass and blew it away. "You could use the vanishing charm, you know, to vanish earth and rocks and things."

"Or a blasting spell like Bombarda," said Hermione.

"A pet Niffler might be useful if it's a treasure hunt through underground caverns," Luna said dreamily.

"Without a clue, it's all guesswork though," put in Neville.

The discussion continued along these lines, not only that afternoon, but most of the following days. The only thing they all agreed on was that Harry should be prepared for anything, but do nothing when he was finally facing danger. They hoped the day would never come, and yet they were impatient to get it out of the way too.

They did not have too long to wait. In the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held Harry back in Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch pitch tonight at nine o"clock, Potter," she told him. "Mr Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."

Ron and Hermione waited anxiously in Gryffindor Tower with Neville and Ginny. It was late in the day for Luna because of the curfew, but Harry had lent her his invisibility cloak, and she huddled under it in a corner chair in the common room, out of sight of any Gryffindor prefect's prying eyes. Ginny and Neville sat on the arms of the chair, guarding it.

The clock on the wall was nearing ten before Harry returned.

"Enchanted obstacle maze on the Quidditch pitch!" he exclaimed the moment he returned. "Shouldn't be too bad, should it? I can get lost in an L-shaped room so I'll have no trouble wasting away an hour in a maze."

"What kind of obstacles?" asked Ginny.

"They didn't say. Who cares? I don't intend to get past any of them."

Ron shuddered. "What if they have a nest of... you know... Acromantulas, Harry?"

Ginny scoffed. "Harry's faced worse than that, haven't you, Harry? A giant three-headed dog, a Basilisk, hoards of Dementors..."

"I'll just cast up red sparks with my wand the moment I see them. They have to pull you out, you see, if you get in trouble."

Luna peeped out from Harry's cloak, looking sombre.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry. "I thought you'd be pleased I'm not going to take any risks?"

"But what about afterwards, Harry? When you fail but don't get killed? What will the assassin do then?"

Harry frowned. "I'll ask Toh–" He glanced briefly at the others. "I mean, my bodyguard, to stay close. Sh... he always watches out for me."

"Not that good, I reckon," said Neville. "Never shows his nose anywhere near you. He can't protect you while he's sitting with his feet up in the staff room, drinking cocoa all day long."

Harry almost smiled as Tonks, who was standing unnoticed only a few feet behind Neville, stiffened in annoyance. Her scowl alone would have sent Neville running if he could have seen her.

But Harry's relief and delight at discovering the nature of the third task had evaporated like dew on hearing Luna's concern. There would be another full week after the task until the end of the school year when he could return to the relative safety of Privet Drive. He would have to keep his head down until then. Take no chances. Stay close with trusted friends... especially Luna.

.

~~~ The Living Maze ~~~

At the evening feast preceding the final task, Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table. Bagman appeared quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking.

There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel uneasy now the reality of the final task was approaching, didn't eat much at all. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch for the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry got up, his feet suddenly like lead Bludgers. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him. Everyone wished him good luck. Luna ran tearfully over from her table and gave him a big kiss – resulting in more cheers and wolf-whistles all around, then he headed off out of the Great Hall, with Cedric, Fleur and Krum.

"Feeling alright, Harry?" Bagman asked, as they went down the stone steps into the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. It was sort of true; he planned on waiting a decent amount of time near the entrance, then finding an easy excuse to quit, but even so, he was troubled. As they walked, he kept running over in his head all the things that might go wrong, which didn't help his confidence at all. There always seemed to be more things that could endanger him than not.

They walked onto the Quidditch pitch which was now completely unrecognisable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them; the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. Directly overhead, the sky was now a deep, clear ultramarine, and the first stars had appeared. The only natural illumination was a failing pale glow from the west, so the organisers were busily conjuring lanterns with their wands before the twilight ended. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the competitors. "May we remind you once again, if you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered "Sonorus", and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each – Mr Cedric Diggory and Mr Viktor Krum. In second place, on sixty points – Miss Fleur Delacour, and, in fourth place, Harry Potter! There will be a time penalty in proportion to those previous scores but it will then be the first to reach the Tri-wizard Cup who will be our grand winner!

Harry was glad that Bagman had discreetly avoided mentioning his own low score. Entering last into the maze though, meant nobody would be coming up behind him to discover he wasn't even trying to win.

"So ... on my whistle, Cedric and Viktor!" said Bagman. "Three – two – one –"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, then Viktor and Cedric hurried forwards into the maze.

Waiting made Harry's nerves twang even more. He watched Fleur enter then braced himself...

"Three – two – one –"

With a final wave at Luna, he turned and stepped inside the opening to the maze. The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick, or because they had been enchanted, the maze seemed to close in behind him and the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced. He was utterly alone.

Yet despite the desolation, Harry couldn't help but feel there was something... something going on in here. There was no movement visible, but he imagined that he heard rustling sounds.

Preparing himself for a long wait, he glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes ought to do it and give a half-decent impression that he had tried. He peered through the darkening murk at the first turning fifty paces to his left. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to take a look...

He crept forward, conscious all the time of Luna's cautions. He was almost disappointed when the next passage seemed as bland as the one he was in. Might as well make it look as if he had tried. He walked carefully onwards, wand in hand, then looked at his watch. Less than three minutes had elapsed since the start! Standing around was... boring.

Two more turns and he came to a dead end. Seems a good place to wait, he mused, settling himself down on the turf underfoot. He could pretend he had gone much further then feign surprise he had circled back without realising. With a bit of luck he would be out of here before the last of the daylight failed. Yet even though he had resolved to remain safely hidden from any unpleasantness, the darkness was growing claustrophobic, and the rustling... yes! there really was something...

His straining eyes detected small, shadowy movements in the gloom! Mice? Insects? Dark snakes? Before he could fully scramble to his feet, a finger-like touch brushed his ankle. He leapt up and back. "Lumos!"

The illumination revealed that the hedge itself was animate and growing around him! There were poisonous-looking thorns underfoot, and vines that crept. Harry shuddered. Tendrils were visibly expanding and stretching. Heavy, bulging stems squirmed and matted together. Without warning, a couple of the thicker ones accelerated forward, groping at his leg, and, as he tried to run, tumbling him over in a bruising heap. One elbow was bumped right on the funny bone, causing him to yelp. He spun over, disoriented, glasses askew. As his hand struck the ground to break his turn, the wand was pushed right through his grip into a tenuous, two-fingertip hold – but not for long. It was quickly left behind as he was dragged an arm's length along the turf – and the magical radiance died. Blinking and squinting to readjust to what now seemed total darkness, he found himself struggling to move freely amidst the wiry, probing creepers. Harry Potter was in a fix alright.

He stretched forth his arm towards where he had seen his wandlight fail, but his wrist was instantly gripped and his hand pierced by a vicious thorn. Another tendril was creeping around his throat. Even more alarming, Harry could hear another sound rattling and slithering through the growth towards him...

Cold and hard and seemingly with purpose, it knocked into his fingers. He cringed. It was his wand. How? He had no time to wonder who else might be here. In a trice he had another light and began blasting at the hedge, partly driving back the woody arms that held him prisoner. I can do this! I can beat it!

Yet Luna's words now came to him. In his mind he could see her card quite vividly, Accept Without Risk.

He cast up red sparks.

McGonagall was there first, unbinding him with a wave of her wand. "Are you injured, Potter?"

"I'm okay – just scratches and cuts." He held up his hand which was still seeping blood.

The teacher frowned at the nasty wound where the thorn had pierced. "Best get you to sick bay, all the same."

.

~~~ The Assassin's Identity ~~~

When they emerged, Luna was near the entrance, jumping up and down with anxiety, clearly wishing to help.

"Miss Lovegood, would you take Mr Potter to the hospital wing at once, please?" said McGonagall.

It was hard to judge the crowd's reaction to his early failure. Their subdued manner might be hiding their disgust. Harry was glad to get away.

"Harry, Harry, let me look at you..." cried Luna, as she walked swiftly along with him.

Harry gestured her off with a rueful grimace and a raised palm, slippy with blood. "It's nothing!"

"Listen, Harry, we have to act quickly or you'll be in more danger. I think I know now who the Death Eater is!"

Harry stopped still in astonishment. "How? It's Snape isn't it?"

She shook her head and gently took his good hand, leading the way. "I overheard him. Oh, Harry, I had to do something..."

Harry frowned. They were headed towards Moody's office. "Luna, what have you done?"

Alarm bells were ringing in Harry's head. He looked frantically around for Tonks but there was no sign of her. He stared down every side corridor they passed but it was clear that the Auror had lost sight of him.

"In here..."

Harry stood staring at the body on the floor before him in astonishment. "It's Professor Moody! You've..." – he dare not even think Luna had killed him – "you've stunned a Hogwarts teacher?"

"It's not him! He's taken Polyjuice. He'll be alright – it's only the sleeping curse..." She was at a shelf of potions, and extracted two very carefully. "Harry, we need proof or I'm in serious trouble. This one's Wiggenweld." She handed it to him. "We have to question him. Wake him up and I'll use Veritaserum on him. She placed the tiny vial carefully on the desk.

Harry crouched down while Luna closed the door. He unstoppered the bottle and leaned forward. For a few moments he paused, sniffing. Something wasn't right. "Luna, are your sure this is... what are you doing?"

Luna was chanting softly beside the lock. "We mustn't be disturbed, Harry! Oh, please hurry."

Harry turned back to Moody's lips and prised them apart with his good hand. He moved the bottle closer; it was sticky with his own blood.

An astonishing fear occurred to him. He looked up. Luna was now at the fireplace examining the crimson flames. Her face was a deep ruddy glow – almost demonic. Was that really her? He glanced down again at Moody. Then who was this? He knew the answer instantly. The bottle was poison and Harry Potter's blood was upon it. The sleeping person before him could be none other than the real Luna. He laid aside the bottle and leaned forward, bringing his own lips close to Moody's–

"But," came a soft, quiet voice from behind him, "you've already kissed me, Harry."

He jerked around. The girl had slipped silently back to him. In one hand her wand was thrust forward and in the other was Moody's empty coffee mug. She smiled, though there was something very different from the way she normally did so; her expression was cold and remote. "Haven't you worked it out yet?" she purred.

"Luna? You? It can't be!"

He was fumbling out his own wand but the stinging wound in his hand made him botch his grip and Luna's aim was already at his neck. Viciously, she struck down hard on the knuckles of his injured hand with the pottery mug, breaking a finger and causing him to cry out in pain. His wand clattered noisily across the stone floor out of his sight.

Even as his shout still echoed between the stone walls, there was a heavy crash at the door; raised voices could be heard beyond it as well as the creak and groan of forcing spells that were attempting to break the wards.

Luna smiled darkly. "Dumbledore. He'll not break down that door before the clock strikes."

She took one last look around the room.

"Come then, Harry, I have a friend who is anxious to meet you." She dragged him with surprising strength towards the fireplace, her wand digging painfully into his throat. "We'll go together. In the moment the hot red flickers to cold green and back – not one second before or after, else we both suffer a most awful death."

Harry scanned wildly about as they approached the dancing flames, hoping desperately for a miracle.

"There's no use looking, Harry," sneered Luna. "It's impossible for anyone to enter this room. No knight in shining armour is going to rescue you. No cavalry can come over the hill. We are sealed in, and those flames are exit-only. Even the Dark Lord himself could not penetrate this chamber."

Her arm was now tightly around his neck and long, straggly-blonde hair was pressed against the side of his face. Her perfume began to reek and he cringed against her with revulsion.

"What's wrong, Harry? Don't you love me anymore?"

Wild, frenzied ideas raced through Harry's mind. Had he guessed wrongly? He could hardly accept this was his Luna; or that she had played him along all this time. And yet, might Voldemort have tampered with her memories and beliefs? If he went with her, might he somehow find a way to help her? He needed longer to think, to clear his head. He had to play for time.

"What about...?" he gestured towards the sleeping body.

"Moody? Yes, I suppose he would be of interest to the Dark Lord, wouldn't he? Lots of secrets there to extract..."

Luna paused briefly, unwilling to surrender the death grip she had around Harry's throat. "Put your broken hand under mine, Harry."

"What!"

"Clasp my wand from the other side beneath my hand, feel the magic. No tricks mind you. I can just as easily stun you, but the Dark Lord wants you conscious, wants you to know what is going to happen..."

"But..." His finger was already swelling badly, and the injured palm looked very discoloured. "I can't grip anything with this...!"

"Do it!"

Tentatively, Harry upturned his hand below Luna's with the wand clasped between them. It was the same hand he had held while dancing, and so often down by the lake, but instead of soft, gentle fingers, he now only felt heartless claws digging into his injury, twisting the bone. He cried out again, "Aaah! Stop!" but Luna had locked his finger with hers and he could not pull away.

"Pull him to me. Pull Moody to the fire like you pulled me through the water," said Luna. "I want to learn your clever little spell. I need to feel it. My master will be well pleased."

Harry knew then which was the real Luna, yet he had to get this Luna to leave the sleeping Luna behind; he must get this person to forget the sleeper...

"Never!" cried Harry. "Voldemort is weak and stupid! He'll never get me to–!" He screamed as she angrily thrust sideways against his broken knuckle.

"You dare speak his name! Then you will answer to him directly." She pushed him one step closer to the flames. "Oh, yes, my dear Harry, perhaps the Dark Lord will give me leave to make you beg. It might please him to see you crushed by your 'true love'."

Luna cackled madly but Harry held his tongue, thankful that the sleeper would not be taken, would not have to chance this hellish portal. Ron had been right; the heat from the red flames was especially intense close up. Harry's robes were beginning to smoulder.

"When I push, we step through instantly or we die horribly," hissed Luna in his ear.

The crimson fire flickered green briefly, once more, twice... Luna waited, timing the phases. "Only go when it's cold. Ready? One... two..."

"Relashio! Expelli–"

Luna's expression was one of utter astonishment yet her reflexes were surprising. Moody's first curse staggered her a step away from Harry, breaking her hold on him while she focused on her assailant. Yet she had clung tenaciously to her wand and spun around with a cutting curse before Moody could complete his second spell.

As Moody fell, bleeding heavily, Harry dived his shoulder numbly at Luna's hip. Already off-balance, she stumbled sideways, throwing up her arms to prevent herself falling into the roaring fireplace. But one leg shot out instinctively to brace herself...

She shrieked and fell backwards, losing not only her wand behind her but also her foot and most of the ankle which were Floo-severed away and the remnant charred and cauterised by the intense flames.

Immediately, the crimson glow lapsed back into a normal log fire, quietly crackling as if no deadly drama had just unfolded before it.

Leaving the dark witch to her fate, Harry dashed over and dropped to his knees beside the squirming, heavily-bleeding Moody. "LUNA! LUNA! Tell me what to do! Can't you speak! A CARD! Have you got a blank card? Can you write?"

"It's ... too late for him ... Harry!" The other Luna was struggling to master her pain yet had already managed to crawl to her wand and was pointing it at Harry once more.

"I won't leave Luna!" cried Harry.

"Moody's as ... good as dead. Nobody recovers from ... that curse," gasped the other Luna, groaning her distress between the words. "Help m-me, and ... you may ... yet live."

"Never!"

The creaking and straining of the door was increasing and there was a hammering on the heavy timbers too. Faintly, Harry could hear his name being called.

Harry shouted back, "HELP US! help us please, Headmaster! HURRY! Don't let her die!"

But the false Luna was chanting, sprawled before the fireplace. Six chants she uttered before Harry risked rushing her – only to find the wand in his face once more.

"I know you're not Luna," snarled Harry. He pointed at Moody, moaning on the floor. "Save her, and I'll help you escape. I'll do anything, anything you want. I'll do anything your master wants," said Harry, frantically.

The false Luna's face was contorted with pain, and she could barely speak. She shook her head. "I can't ... save her," she gasped. "No one ... can. She's dying and ... is beyond ... any help."

The fake Luna's eyes, the same eyes that he had grown to love so much, were now full of malice as she studied Harry's despair. "One more chant, and then we leave as before."

"Network..." The gasp had been feeble but somehow amplified. Harry twisted his head around. The Moody-Luna had her face pressed against the door.

"CRUCIO!" screamed the dark Luna and the body near the door jerked spasmodically, blood spouting now from its mouth, then it fell back.

"You'll drag me through, Potter, or you'll get the same as your stupid girlfriend!"

There was a desperate panic now in the fake-Luna's voice as she uttered the seventh chant. Harry was crouching before the fire, with this strange, crippled other-Luna half-sprawled across him, hanging on tenaciously with one arm, the other holding the deadly wand at Harry's neck. Sweat was pouring down her face; her eyes began to glaze over as she fought to stay conscious.

Slowly, the log fire began to flicker more redly. Harry imagined he saw the lines of terrible, grim faces within it. Any moment now, Harry knew it would turn crimson...

"Stand up, ready to drag me through!" snarled this other-Luna, drawing on her last reserves.

As Harry braced himself to rise, the flames began to partly change in colour; it was his last chance...

With a desperate turn of his lifting foot, he kicked down hard on the scorched stump of the false Luna, falling over her and away from the flames in the hope she might not be able to point her wand quickly enough. But though she was now shrieking continuously in pain, the fake Luna succeeded in bringing her wand to bear and nothing could stop the brilliant flash of green right in his face.

Dazzled, Harry felt himself sliding away into an emerald void. As he did, he thought he saw an awful fury charging out from the flames – but they were not red flames, nor were they yellow or orange, they were Floo-green. It was Dumbledore coming through, followed by Snape and McGonagall. The drama was over. The fake Luna's wand flew away in a rage of splinters. Someone was pulling Harry to one side, chanting a spell over his eyes. As his vision cleared, he had a fleeting glimpse of that same person running across to the dying Moody-Luna.

In a daze, Harry weakly sat before the Floo staring at Madam Pomfrey shaking her head over the body near the door. Somehow he dragged himself to a half-stand and stumbled over.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," said the Matron. "It's over..."

"No... no, she's hanging on..." cried Harry. "She must be..."

But Madam Pomfrey moved her hand forward to gently close the eyes of the body.

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry fell to his knees, blubbering incoherently, forcing himself to look at the unbelievable.

As the magic died, the body reformed itself. Briefly, Harry saw a young girl smiling at him – but it was not Luna's smile. That last brief form passed too, and the young woman on the floor was Tonks, lost forever from this world, and beyond all mortal help.

Harry stared for many seconds in disbelief, torn apart by conflicting emotions, then dry sobs racked his body. He shook off an arm that was around his shoulder. "NNooo! Not Tonks... please not Tonks..."

"I'm sorry, Harry, we were too late," said Dumbledore over his shoulder.

"She g-gave a year of her l-life to watch over... me?" choked Harry. "And now she's given it all. What a stupid waste..."

"I don't think she saw it that way, Harry."

Harry stiffened, but could not yet struggle up to his feet. "But... it can't be..." His gaze had turned to the other–Luna, to whom Snape was administering a few drops of the Veritaserum.

"That's not her either, Harry," said Dumbledore, solemnly. "Professor Flitwick has assured me that Miss Lovegood is safe and well in the Ravenclaw common room where the eagle's conundrums have been made even more formidable for the time being. She informed her head of house that she was taken by Professor Moody to his office where he cursed her. Tonks awoke her with Luna's own pastilles, and ordered her to go to her tower and remain there until further notice."

Harry blinked, trying to clear his head. "You mean, Tonks replaced her as Professor Moody's body on the floor? Why?" He was aware that Pomfrey was fussing over his oddly-turned finger, anxious to get him to the hospital wing.

Dumbledore sighed. "We can only surmise that Miss Tonks saw there was no time to prevent you being ensnared so she prepared her own trap. She remained awake the whole time, awaiting a chance."

"Then who is that?" Harry gestured with his head towards the false Luna.

"Aah... that is the question, isn't it?" said Dumbledore.

Moody's office started to whirl hazily around as Harry stood up. Pomfrey was still dabbing tincture on his hand and muttering about it drawing out the poisonous sap of the thorn.

Snape looked up as they approached. "It's Crouch's son, Headmaster – no, he never died in Azkaban. The man's been here disguised as Moody all year. Full well he knew it was impossible for anyone but you to make a Portkey out from Hogwarts, so he corrupted the Tournament cup Portkey, redirecting it towards the Dark Lord instead of back to the stadium."

"To Voldemort? So he has, at least, some temporary form of body?" Dumbledore did not look too surprised.

"Only a weak, foetal corruption of snake and human that cannot survive long, and is little better than the serpents and rats he possessed before."

To Harry, the conversation seemed far off, clinically detached from the tragedy of real people like Tonks and... "What about Cedric! The others?"

"Calm yourself, Harry. Miss Lovegood returned to the Ravenclaw Tower via the owlery and sent me a most interesting magical card. The Tournament was cancelled, and everyone is safe. Very smart girl, that one, Harry."

"Tell me about it," Harry grimaced, performing what he thought Harry Potter ought to. But inside he was so emotionally weary that Madam Pomfrey insisted he return with her to the hospital wing for a dose of Skele-Gro and a good night's rest.

.

~~~ The Worst Of It ~~~

It was morning when Harry dreamed of being sandwiched within wondrous folds and layers of love. Two hands gently held his, and there were no demands upon him. He floated through this cotton wool valley in a timeless kind of way, slowly emerging from its glorious lazy depths into even brighter sunshine. The boy awoke.

His normal everyday mind became aware of where he was and he slowly eased open his eyelids. Luna was propped up by a huge downy pillow beside him. She appeared to have fallen asleep sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, had slightly slumped over into the copious swelling of the bolster, and was now nicely cushioned by it. Yet her little hands still cradled his almost-healed palm to her bosom.

While he was still blinking away the haze of sleep and his eyes were adjusting to the brightness, Luna appeared all white – Harry was reminded of one of those angel pictures he'd seen in books – quilted, ivory dressing gown, fluffy snow slippers, pale face, and fair, misty hair through which the day's illumination shone. He glanced up at the clock. Oh, well, breakfast can wait...

Her lips were slightly parted in sleep. Crossing them, a delicate wisp of hair trembled with her breath. He could see her pupils quietly moving below her eyelids as she dreamt. What did she see? Was she thinking of him?

Sounds were now coming from beyond the entrance to the hospital wing. Harry thought he heard Ron's voice, perhaps Hermione too. Luna stirred. Her eyelids slowly opened at the same moment the doors opened, and her eyes fell immediately upon Harry gazing back at her.

"Hi..."

"Hi..."

"I think he's awake..." Ginny's voice whispering far off.

Luna straightened up a little – but not much. Harry likewise.

"Oh, sorry, this is..." Hermione was closer now. "We can come back later if..."

"No, come in," said Harry.

"Brought you some breakfast," said Ron.

He must have opened a container, probably an elf-basket, for the aroma of bacon, and sausage, and fresh-baked bread wafted into Harry's nostrils, rousing his stomach from its night's fast.

"Got juice here or tea," said Neville, cheerfully.

"Yeah, pile it on," said Harry, hoisting himself up into a sitting position, as Ron hoisted a laden bed-tray into position over his lap.

Hermione quietly dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on top of his bedclothes. Harry almost dropped the crusty cob he had seized. His jaw gaped open, but not to eat. The extra-bold headline read:

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED LIVES!
FUDGE KICKED OUT! SCRIMGEOUR IN!

Hermione summarised the story for him quickly:

"Madam Bones forced a very lengthy interrogation under Veritaserum of Crouch Junior before a night session of the full Wizengamot. He confirmed that You-know-who was physically alive – albeit trapped in a weak embryonic creature – and you, Harry, were to be kidnapped to use in a ritual."

"A ritual?"

"To fully re-embody Voldemort with the help of... Pettigrew."

Harry hissed air out between clenched teeth, and Hermione nodded as she continued, "Yes, Ron and I gave provisional testimony describing last year's events in the Shrieking Shack with Wormtail, Remus and your godfather, and the case of Sirius Black has had to be re-opened. It will be a formality. He has virtually been pardoned already."

With a grunt of relief, Harry said, "Finally!"

Ginny pipped in, "They found the real Moody in that big chest in his room and he's recovering in St. Mungo's."

"And Harry," added Ron, excitedly. "Tonks is to receive the Order of Merlin, first– Ow!"

Hermione had jabbed Ron in the ribs but Harry had already frozen in horror, his face suddenly pinched in. "You know about her then?"

"Yeah," said Neville, "the Auror who was guarding you, we heard."

Harry fell silent. There was murmuring in the group gathered around him.

"She was brilliant, Harry," said Hermione. "Luna told us that Tonks meant a lot to you. I wished I'd known her."

Harry nodded, his head low. Luna gently squeezed his hand.

"We're all with you, Harry," said Neville. "We'll do all we can to help you through the worst of this."

Harry shook his head, and snapped, "You don't KNOW what was the worst of it!" At the memory, yesterday's bitterness flared up from within him. "You want to know what was the worst of it? The second worst was when I thought Luna lay dead in front of me! But the worst, the very worst, was when we discovered it was Tonks..."

There was a moment of shock as the recollection fully hit him. He jerked upright and the trayful of breakfast was flung sideway with a crash onto the floor.

"Harry..." began Hermione.

"NO! NO! NO!" A furious wave of his hand indicated he would not be stopped. "You know why that was the worst?" Harry's throat was painfully constricted and he was shouting in breathless gasps. "BECAUSE ... for ... a few ... seconds ... I was GLAD! I was GLAD it was Tonks and not ... Luna!"

Sobs of uncontrollable rage reduced his voice to that of a weeping infant, blubbering and almost incoherent. "Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, God ... I'm sorry, T-Tonks ... I'm s-so ... s-sorry I was ... glad it was you..."

His chest heaving, he collapsed against Luna who hugged him close and stroked his hair without saying anything. He was unaware that Madam Pomfrey had emerged silently from her office and was signalling for the others to leave. Only Luna remained, quietly holding him in the agony of his terrible grief, and not saying anything but soft murmurs as he wailed inconsolably, and not wishing anything of him other than that he tolerate her presence.

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~~~ Something Worthwhile ~~~

"Come in, Harry."

The Headmaster was not at his desk; he was waiting to greet Harry at the door. Before saying another word, he examined Harry's face closely, but his own expression was unreadable.

"Take a seat," he said eventually.

He paused until Harry was perched stiffly upon a chair then he continued, "Firstly, I would like to thank you, Harry, for the service you have performed, not only for the magical community of this country, but probably also for the entire world."

"Service? I didn't do anything except get Tonks killed!"

"You need to know that Barty Crouch's entire memory of what happened in that room has been recorded, examined, and thoroughly explored. The result of your courage and resourcefulness gave added meaning to the death of Miss Tonks."

"There was no meaning!" Harry flared angrily, half rising off his chair.

"No? Then you demean your saviour. You belittle her sacrifice. You render her of no account."

Harry sank back down, staring sullenly at Dumbledore.

"Miss Tonks died that you may live. She gave her life in the fight for goodness, truth, and justice, and the downfall of Lord Voldemort. If you had been taken, then I fear all might have been lost."

"How? What difference would I make?"

"All the difference in the world, Harry. You see, Voldemort intended to use the blood of his enemy – your blood, Harry – to re-empower himself. He would have risen again, more terrible and deadly than ever before. Thousands, perhaps millions of Muggles, might have suffered and died."

"But he'll try again?"

"Not with the same ritual. The bones of his own father are needed and we have acted swiftly to pulverise those remains and cast them into the ocean."

"He'll create some other way then?"

"Magic is a world of discovery, Harry, much like your Muggle science. When we produce new spells we are either modifying known forms or uncovering magical interconnections that already exist. There have been few fundamental new discoveries for thousands of years. It is most unlikely he will succeed in permanent re-embodiment – apart from weak and temporary possessions of lowly creatures and suchlike. He has suffered torments and great difficulties for fourteen years; it is likely that will continue far, far longer."

"Does he suffer? Can he feel pain?"

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement continues to extract Crouch's memories, but yes, from what we have observed so far, Lord Voldemort's half-life was unbearable to him before and so must also be again – probably worse."

"Good!" said Harry, viciously. "I want him to suffer. And Crouch too for what he did. ... What will happen to him now?"

"In a few days, he will receive the Dementor's kiss."

Harry grimaced but nodded in satisfaction. "I hope Voldemort's soul shares the same fate one day."

Harry remained silent for a few moments, angrily gripping the arm of his chair. "Why me? Why did Voldemort see me as his enemy?"

"Ah, that is a story for another time, but for now, understand this, you defeated him before, and so he needed to reaffirm his supremacy to his supporters. That is no longer possible."

"And you think stopping him was worth Tonks' life?" Harry simmered for a few more seconds. "I shouted to you for help! I begged you! Why didn't you save her! Why didn't you come earlier!"

"We tried in vain to restore the Floo network. Something was blocking access and we did not then know what. I ... regret that we did not persist. Only when Dora – Miss Tonks – called to us that we could now try again, did we succeed."

"She paid the price. I thought it was Luna! Crouch tortured her! She was already dying, but he used the torture curse on her, on a dying woman!"

"Yes, Harry. Doing what is right has a price, a dreadful price sometimes." Dumbledore's gaze was directed inward for a few moments. Harry thought he saw the Headmaster try to suppress a deep sigh. For the first time, the youth seemed to perceive how very, very old the man was.

"Do you blame Miss Lovegood?" said Dumbledore suddenly, breaking Harry out of his reverie.

"What? What! For what?"

"She told me it was at her suggestion that you requested a bodyguard. Miss Lovegood wondered if you blamed her for that."

"Of course not!"

"Yet you blame yourself? Tell me, if your girlfriend had been the Girl-who-lived and you had sacrificed your life for her, would you consider your final act worth performing?"

"Yes, but Tonks... you don't understand, Professor. She spent most of the year standing around, bored silly, unable even to talk to anyone! She must have hated me in the end."

"You are very, very wrong, Harry. Dora told me how much she loved her work, and how much she loved watching out for you."

"She did?"

"Do you suppose that a good mother gets nothing in return for all the care she lavishes on her offspring? Miss Tonks informed me how sad you often were and how she liked to hold you, to give you some comfort if only for a few minutes. She often said, 'doing something worthwhile makes one feel worthwhile'."

With eyes now shining, Harry stared at Professor Dumbledore, absorbing what he had said. He would never forget those words throughout his life...

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~~~ Twenty Years Later... ~~~

The towering statue in the Ministry is of white stone with gold inlay. Its sister monument, of more modest dimensions, resides in the small graveyard on the hill just outside Mould-on-the-Wold.

"Wait here, you two. We'll be close to Auntie Tonks for a few minutes – don't let go of your little sister, James."

"Okay, Mum."

The anniversary was a warm June day but the ground around the visitors was of well-worn gravel and earth and broken slabs of cold stone that were forever wintry. The journey there, up a winding path, had been a long walk for a three-year-old.

"Legs hurt. Wan' sit down," whimpered the child.

"It's too dirty, Lil, anyway, it's not respectful."

"Wha's 'rispeckful'?"

"It's not caring enough for Auntie Tonks."

"But..." She held up her arms to her brother, and her eyes were pleading. "Cawwy me, then, Jamie."

James sighed. "Okay, put your hand round my neck and no wriggling."

He lifted her up with one arm supporting her lower back and the other under her knees. He had to bring up a knee to help hoist her with his small frame.

"Who Mummy an' Daddy talking?"

"Auntie Tonks."

"Under gwound?"

"I told you before, she's gone on to a better place."

"Auntie Tonkth hear Mummy an' Daddy?"

"Yes."

They watched their parents in silence for a while. The mother's long, straggly-blonde hair wafted occasionally in the summer breeze as she clung tightly to her husband while he shook with renewed emotions.

"Ith Daddy cwying?"

James croaked a little but didn't answer. He noticed his father's eyes were all red when the adults rejoined the youngsters.

The mother said, "Alright, children?"

"Mum," said James, "why is Aunt Tonk's grave fenced apart from the others?

"Many come to be with her, and to honour her, not just ourselves – look at all the flowers," said Luna, taking Lily from James and hugging her to herself.

"Why they come, Mummy?" said Lily.

"Tell her, Harry," smiled Luna. "She's old enough now."

Harry hesitated briefly, then braced himself. "Lily Tonks Potter, you were named after two of the bravest women I ever knew. None of us would be here but for what they did."

"Wha' they do?"

"They both died to save us all and together they vanquished a bad wizard forever, and made the world a much better place."

James frowned. "Yeah, but he's not dead though, is he? He might come back?"

"No, we know for sure that's no longer possible. He believed he achieved the freedom from death that he craved, but he must understand now it's not forever. We live in a mortal world and here, everything passes away eventually. In addition he's completely helpless. His half-spirit wanders the lonely wastes, suffering and without hope."

"I still don't see why he can't find another way to return though."

Harry smiled. "Surely you've still got your Mum's magic card? The card, I mean."

"Sure, I do." James fumbled it out of his back pocket. It was heavily dog-eared and grubby.

"And is it still blank?"

James grinned and nodded.

"So you know Vector's Equation which proves that seven must always be the maximum number of ways that death can ever be averted – and none of them except the seventh are permanent."

James rolled his eyes and rattled them off. "Desire, light, darkness, love, alchemy, force, and the seventh heaven."

"Which in our world translates as?"

"Possession, unicorn blood, Horcrux, sacrifice, Philosopher's Stone, Resurrection Stone, and... going on."

Luna said, "Both stones were destroyed, thankfully, and every record of that horrible Horcrux ritual has been destroyed. The other methods were only ever temporary too, except the seventh. You-know-who is now too weak to possess anything more than a worm – and that for less than a single minute. He is lost and will have to spend millennia awaiting release by the one inevitability that terrifies him – death. He must have been driven quite mad."

James shuddered. "Good riddance."

They stood and looked at the view down the slope for a while. Several large, interlinked pools glittered far below in the sun.

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" said Harry. "Tonks would adore it, I think. She used to sit with us by the lake during that summer term, you know."

Luna looked at him. "I didn't realise she had been so close. Oh, I hope she felt we were all friends."

"Yeah, she'd make rude gestures and pull faces to try to get me to laugh. Tonks was always fun – flirted with me dreadfully!" Harry laughed at the memory. "And she approved of you."

"She did? The only time we spoke was when..." Luna stopped herself. "It'll be so nice when we see her again. "Come, children, let's sit with Auntie Tonks for a while and share the view with her."

"But the ground's all mucky," said James.

"Then sit on your father's lap."

"I'm nearly nine! I'm not sitting on Dad!"

"Then with me. You're never too old to sit on your mother's lap, are you, darling? Here, Harry, you take Lily."

With a swift, deft movement, Luna plucked her wand from behind her ear, and pointed it downwards. "Scourgify!"

"Mum! You've cleaned the ground, so why do I have to..."

"James Xenophilius Potter, would you rather sit on the hard ground or on Mummy's lap and have a cuddle?" smiled Luna.

Sucking his finger, the boy averted his gaze, put his arm round his mother's neck, then she guided him onto her lap.

"Jamie smiling!" chortled Lily.

"No, I'm not."

They sat in a pleasant silence for a while, Harry gently jiggling Lily up and down on his knees to make her giggle.

"Look at the fluffy clouds ahead," breathed Luna, dreamily. "We can almost see on top of them, like they've come down to say hello."

"Uh oh..." winked Harry.

"Uh oh..." mimicked Lily. "Mummy'th happy..."

They whiled away the minutes until completeness embraced them all. Satisfied, they looked at one another, and Harry nodded. Together, they all strolled back down the winding path.

" 'bye for now, Tonks. See you next year and forever," Harry whispered to the wind.

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The End

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Author's Notes

Completed, and I'm reasonably satisfied with it, and very pleased with some of the passages. Sorry about the character death for those of you who are fans, but the story needed some power and drama to finish, and no way was I going to bump off Luna. As it is, the ending is a sort of happy ever after but with a tinge of sorrow and sacrifice. I was going to put the statue in the Auror Department but then I thought, its significance is bigger than that. :)

With Voldemort unresurrected, his Death Eaters were not recalled, and his temporary embyronic creature body declined eventually. Yes, the Horcruxes kept him alive as a half-life but he couldn't prevent Dumbledore seeking them out and destroying them over the ensuing years. With the knowledge gained, Professor Vector applied herself to analysing all known methods and calculated the Arithmantic reason why no more ways of delaying death had ever been discovered – there weren't any, nor could be! She resolved her mighty work into a single equation to prove it. ;)

Still working on my next Hermione/Harry fic which will be all new adventures during Harry's Hogwarts years but without Voldemort, so no trolls in dungeons, no CoS, no Tournament, etc. I've already written quite a lot of material but I can't begin to publish until I have ironed out some more basic structure. The whole story will probably be split into 7 books, rather like Chary Potter was. Working Title: The All New Adventures of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter at Hogwarts, but that's too long and too vague! There's an overall theme of Strong-Hermione taking the lead and more of the burden from Harry. The first book set in Year 1 might be called Hermione Granger and the Foul Abomination but that's also only a working title at present. It's Hermione-centric with the usual golden 6. ;)

Many thanks for all comments and reviews and support. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults — I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)

- Hippothestrowl

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