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The Good Ones

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"Of all the bloody, stupid… Ugh!" Grimm groaned, as she and the other two Forgiven raced through a number of rooms designed to trap Voldemort in its deepest chamber.

When they came upon the room holding the Mirror of Erised, they saw Professor Quirrell in complete agony as he and an unconscious Harry Potter were tangled together.

Norse was the first to dash over, and make it to the pair. She ripped the shrieking teacher off, and pinned him beneath her foot. At the same time, Grimm and Liar knelt down by the boy.

"Harry! Harry!" Grimm shouted.

Liar busied with checking his vitals. He ran his wand across Harry's body, examining it for any signs of wounds or curses. The wizard then, gave a quick shake of his head.

"Nothing fatal. Just a little, light childhood trauma. Nothing a few white lies from Albus can't fix."

Grimm sighed.

"Idiot." She flicked the unconscious boy's forehead on his lightning-shaped scar. "All this trouble," she dug through his pockets to pull out the artifact, "for a Stone that isn't real."

"Not real?!"

Grimm and Liar turned mischievously to the flabbergasted Quirrell. The Professor seemed to be still in pain, but had his attention stolen away by the three intruders.

"Yes," Grimm taunted, as she threw the fake Stone into the air, and caught it playfully. "Not real. Fake. As in, completely duped."

The Forgiven witch strode over, and placed the "Stone" on Quirrell's sweat-beaded forehead, like an owner balancing a biscuit on their dog's snout.

"How does it feel? Immortality?" Grimm continued to chide the man.

"You…!" he frothed back. "I remember you from the Forest!"

"No shedding parts of your soul this time, huh? Ran out of juice, I bet."

"My master will make sure you suffer—"

Just then, Grimm stabbed her wand in Quirrell's mouth to stop him from speaking further.

"Speaking of, why don't you show yourself, Voldemort?"

The lights in the chamber flickered for a moment, and the other side of the Professor's face yelled in response.

"You dare utter my name?!"

"More than dare, you pathetic parasite. Thought you should take a look see at the ones about to end your miserable little life."

"This is not the end, you fool. I cannot die."

"Oh, can't you, now?" Grimm prepared her Killing Curse.

Contrary to her expectation, Voldemort only stared back in hatred. The thirst for vengeance being the only picture painted on his expression. Nothing of the fear she had come to expect. Which made her wonder,

"Hm. So, it isn't over, then?"

At the question, the malformed wizard revealed a twinge of regret.

"Oh. So there's more of you. What? Little Voldemorts running about, squirming around people's insides?"

"…"

"Something like that, yeah?" Grimm paid the reaction a disdainful sniff. "Well, we'll make sure to hunt down every last one of you."

"Never will it ever be so simple for us," Liar sighed. "So long, Voldy. Off you pop," he waved with a sinister grin.

Norse flipped a middle finger in front of the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Kill you again, real soon," Grimm snickered.

"Avada Kedavra."

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X

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The Great Hall erupted with thunderous applause at the announcement of Gryffindor's victory in the House Cup.

Among those in attendance, an inconspicuous group of three clapped their hands from their quiet corner.

"Is this real?" Liar side-mouthed to his cohorts. "Not to mention the complete absurdity of the contest, but can Albus really just tack on points like that out of nowhere?"

"Shut up. I don't care, as long as Slytherin loses," Grimm continued applauding. "I think this is the only time I've ever liked Albus."

"When he blatantly rigged a children's contest?"

"Yes. And?"

"I don't understand this school."

Liar looked to Norse for some form of understanding, but only saw her shake her head with feigned enthusiasm.

"I am just glad Neville was able to bask in some glory."

"True," Liar agreed.

The three made their way from the hall and onto the open grounds of the school.

"It's a nice day," Grimm commented, holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Sucks for Mad Eye and Kingsley. Obliviating duty for this one is going to be hellish."

"We were seen by many. All the chance they might miss a few," Liar shrugged.

"Still," Norse gave a big stretch. "A well-earned victory nonetheless."

"The first, but not the last," Grimm added.

The other two went into silent thought at that.

Grimm had discovered a terrifying truth before executing Voldemort. Quirrell was not the last vestige of the Dark Lord. There were alternatives, "separate bodies", as it were. A truth that should have drove them into a frenzy of uncertainty.

Instead, the Forgiven only looked to the future with unabashed confidence.

Their war was not over. Far from it in actuality.

Just then, they heard a pair of feet bound joyfully towards them.

"'Lo, Nevsy!" Liar waved. "Congrats on the…House thingawhatsit."

"House Cup," Grimm corrected sternly, then turned to the boy. "You did, well."

The elation on Neville's face soured slightly at the compliment.

"I don't know about that. All I did was get hexed."

"Neville, a bunch of prats can get hexed for any number of stupid reasons. But you got it for one of the few right ones. That's something you can be proud of."

Neville visibly brightened.

"Now, if we can just help you train, so you can hex back, that would—Ow!" Grimm rubbed her sides from Liar and Norse elbowing her. *Ahem* "You're going to be one of the good ones, Neville. I just know it."

"I doubt I'll ever be brilliant..."

"Bah! 'Brilliant'! Brilliant means nothing. It won't bring you happiness, Neville. Being good…" she leaned down and braced the boy's shoulders. "Being good is so much better than being brilliant. Trust me, I know."

""She does."" Norse and Liar added simultaneously.

Grimm gave a small click of her tongue in annoyance.

"You got a bright future ahead of you. I can see it."

"Just because I stood up to my friends?"

"Neville, if you can stand up to your friends, you can stand up to anyone. Be it Albus Dumbledore or Voldemort himself."

Neville audibly gasped at You-know-who's name.

"Whoops. But I mean that. I…I hide behind my brilliance. I use it to keep my fears away and make a cover of a lot of bad shi-stuff. But you… You've got genuine courage in you, and this won't be the last time you show it."

The boy revealed a wide smile.

"But Grimm, you remember the one who taught me to do that was you."

"Heh, guess even I can get it right a few times." She thumped him on the chest. "Off you get. I'm sure there's more celebrating to do in there. Wouldn't want to keep you from it."

With an encouraging nod from Liar and a short hug from Norse, Neville bound back for the Great Hall.

"Oh, but I'm serious about learning how to hex people back!" Grimm called, as he was leaving. "It'll prove—Ow!—What? It would prove useful to know a counter-curse or two."

"Just leave it on a high note, boss," Liar patted her back.

"And you can trust our word," Norse roped her arm around Grimm's neck. "You are also one of the good ones."

"Definitely one of the good ones, and not as brilliant as you may believe."

The small witch shrugged them both off with an annoyed expression.

"Hmph!"

With a violent turn, Grimm said silently to herself.

"If I can be of any good, it's only because of you two."

"What was that boss?"

"Nothing you squabbling wenches!"

The leader of the Forgiven turned to face them once more with a bright smile on her face.

"Let's go home."

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NOTE

On a very dear request made of me, I have finished this story's arc.

Unfortunately, I have no intention of resuming this series. (There's a certain other series I'd rather finish.)

I doubt there's more than three specific readers who are on this, but in case there's more, I hope you enjoyed this story's last addition.

I hope you are well,

See you, when I see you.

-Nezz