Chapter Nine - Battle

Tonks returned to Grimmauld place where Sirius, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were sharing a pint.

"You're back early," Ron said. "What happened to 'Girl's night'?"

"It's being postponed," Tonks said, and took a seat.

"Where's Hermione?" Sirius asked.

"She decided she needed to be alone for awhile," Tonks said, and helped herself to some Firewhiskey. "Harry, Bella's dead." Harry blinked.

"What?!" he said.

Tonks relayed what happened and downed her shot of Firewhiskey. "Wish I knew parseltongue," she muttered.

"Bloody hell," Harry said. "You and Snape were bad enough, but I let you two get married…"

"Excuse me!? Let us get married? We were supposed to ask your permission?! He's a member of the Order, what's so bad about Sev?"

"It's Snape." Harry said. Ron echoed him and added, "Greasy git."

"Oh," Tonks said. "Is this because he's not an underwear model? Slytherin? Used to terrorize first years? I should've married a Gryffindor underwear model instead?"

Harry and Ron nodded.

"You deserve better," Ron said. "You don't have to settle."

"My parents were one of the Black sisters, and a muggle. Narcissa and Bella had the same reaction you two had about my parents – that my mum deserved better, remarks about his looks, what he was, who she should've married. Sev's family didn't approve of his mum marrying a muggle. You two are doing the same thing to me. And to Hermione." She poured herself another shot and took a swig of Firewhiskey.

"And come to think of it, Harry, I've been in the Order longer than you, and I don't recall you bringing up in meeting the motion for permission to marry Ginny. If this is some part of the Order contract I am unaware of, then, clearly you broke your own rules and you're not fit to be Head. I quit."

"As do I," said Snape from the doorway.

Harry blinked and turned around.

Harry scowled and left with Ginny, slamming the door behind him. Ron followed behind them. Tonks decided to leave early for her night shift as Auror. Snape poured himself a goblet of wine and sank into a chair.

"Everything's falling apart," Sirius said, running his hands through his matted dark hair. "Death Eater and Auror get married, Harry's best mate and the bloody Voldemort in love and expecting, Order members quitting, Voldemort killing off one of his best Death Eaters, Malfoys sucking up to Hermione… everything's falling apart," Sirius muttered into his empty goblet.

"Falling apart," Snape said silkily, "Or falling into place?" Sirius blinked. "It's a paradigm shift, slowly at first, picking up speed…" Snape continued.

Sirius stared thoughtfully at him – the cold dark eyes glinting beneath a curtain of dark greasy hair. The few gray hairs and wrinkles showed the time that had passed, since he had first met him on the train on the way to Hogwarts for the first time, all those years ago.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Sirius said suddenly. Snape looked up. "I'm sorry – for everything James and I did to you."

At a loss for words, Snape blinked, opened his mouth to speak, and closed it. "Thank you, Sirius," Snape muttered. His mouth up-turned in a crooked smile. "I suppose I should apologize for trying to get you the Dementor's Kiss when you went on the run."

Sirius held out his hand, and they shook hands. They clanged their goblets and drank.

"Oh – I know when your paradigm shift got started," Sirius said, amused. Snape tilted his head. "When you and Lily were best friends at Hogwarts… all the comments about a Gryffindor muggleborn and Slytherin studying together…."

Snape stared intently at Sirius for a long moment, and Sirius started to regret bringing up Lily. I thought he was over her. Way to go, Sirius, finally made things right, and you bring her up…

"You might be right," Snape said at last, and helped himself to some more wine.

…

After going for a late night run, Hermione spent the night at a muggle motel. When she awoke, her mind made up, she walked into a gun store and bought the thickest Kevlar vest she could find, assured that it would stop anything short of a bazooka. After several drafts, she wrote a note:

I've heard of debris breaching shield charms, I wouldn't be surprised if a bullet could. Please wear this to the next battle… it's bulletproof. You'll still feel a jolt from impact, but bullets won't be able to penetrate the vest and reach your organs.

Love,

H

She taped it to the vest, wrapped it in brown paper, and tied it with string. Before she could change her mind, she pulled the hood on her cloak over her head and went to the Owlery in Diagon Alley. She rented an express owl (guaranteed delivery or your money back!) and mailed it to Voldemort.

…

Sirius and Snape were still seated at the table, deep in discussion – they had spent the night discussing the old days at Hogwarts, the Order, the Death Eaters, their childhoods, Snape's paradigm shift, Lily, Tonks, and everything else.

Tonks came in that morning, knocking over the umbrella stand with a bang. "Came home after my shift and wondered where you went. Have you two been here the whole night?" she said, just now noticing they were in the same chairs from last night, in the same clothing. "Are you two... friends now?" she asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Snape said, drinking a mug of tea. "Speaking of which, what exactly do Hermione and the Dark Lord consider themselves?"

"No idea," Tonks said. "I don't even know if they know. As far as I can tell, they care about each other and they're exclusive, but it feels ridiculous to call him her 'boyfriend.'"

"Indeed," Snape agreed.

"I told you," Sirius said through a mouthful of oatmeal. He swallowed. "We're calling him her 'baby daddy' until further notice."

"Dear Merlin," Snape said. "I still prefer her 'lover' or her 'man,' given the alternatives."

"Hey Sev – you lost the bet, by the way. Twenty galleons, pay up," Tonks said.

"What bet?" Sirius asked.

"He thought now that they looked like themselves they wouldn't be attracted to each other. I said when you love someone looks don't matter. We made a bet."

"What makes you think you won?" Snape said silkily.

"There was a lot of tension between them, he was asking her to spend the night, they were very close, touching….oh, legilimens me if you don't believe me then, Mr. Skeptic," she said, pointing at her eyes. Snape peered into her unblinking eyes.

He tore his gaze away. "I see," he muttered, and pulled out his coin purse.

Sirius jumped when he noticed Harry and Ginny standing in the doorway.

"You should really set an alarm spell on your house," Snape said dryly. "Clearly Potter doesn't have the manners to... knock... before entering, or to let you know he's coming over."

"Oh it's very casual," Sirius said.

…..

A week later, Hermione returned to Sirius's house, savings running dangerously low. I should go back to Guatemala… maybe I can get my old job back. She froze as she overheard Harry, Sirius, and Snape discussing the upcoming battle. "Why's a head shot so hard on a moving target?" Harry was saying.

"Just go for the torso then – bigger target," Sirius suggested. "Even if you don't get his heart on the first try I'm sure any shot would slow him down enough so you can get it."

"I'm begging you, Harry…." she pleaded. "Please don't kill him…he's not all bad…I miss him…"

"He's lying to you, trying to manipulate you. He can't love, Hermione."

"I think he can, even if he doesn't realize it yet," Hermione said. "I don't know if it's because his soul is whole now and joined with mine, or the blood transfer, or the potential was always there... but there's another side of him... I can see it when I'm with him, when I showed him our baby..."

"You delude yourself," Harry said flatly.

"He cares for me… He even said he misses me!" she said. Harry shook his head, and Hermione could tell he was writing her off as a lost cause.

"He's a mass murderer, a psychopath. I need to kill him before anyone else dies. I didn't think I had it in me to kill someone, but I have to. It's the only way to save everyone else," Harry said in a tight voice. He stared at her. "I thought you were on our side! It's like I don't even know you anymore, Granger," Harry spat.

"I am…." she said.

"If you are on our side, then Don't. See. Him. Again," Harry said.

She ran outside. It was pouring sheets of icy rain, but she didn't care, didn't bother with a repelling or warming charm. Typical England, she thought. She summoned her bag of possessions and magicked it into her pocket.

"Where are you going?" Sirius yelled over the gusts of winds and rain.

"Back to Guatemala," she yelled back. "England's not working out for me," she said, looking at Harry, who seemed speechless. She turned away to disapparate.

"Wait!" Snape yelled. "Hermione – you can stay with us." He conjured and wrapped a heavy blanket around her, and took her things. They apparated back to the Snapes' flat, and Snape dropped her things in the spare bedroom. Tonks was resting after yet another overnight Auror shift.

He left Hermione to take a hot shower and change into dry clothes. When she came back, Snape sat her down with hot herbal tea, and told her, "Learn who your true friends are, Hermione…"

She looked at him thoughtfully. The dark greasy curtain of hair now shot with grey, his face now etched with lines... only his voice and dark eyes were the same as when she first met him, in Potions class, back when she was an eleven year old girl... Harry and Ron had always bashed him, at one time I thought he was the cold-blooded Death Eater they all thought he was... cruel to his students, and yet now he and the once-feared Lord Voldemort and even Lucius were, well… nice to me! It's unnerving how much had changed since Hogwarts. I think I'll start a list… everything teenage Hermione didn't expect about early-thirties Hermione. Deep in thought, she didn't even notice him leave.

Tonks would wake up that evening to find Snape and Hermione deep in discussion about the Nerve Regrowth potion, its ingredients and the procedure, discussing the pros and cons of gold equipment, yet again talking about whether it would ever be legalized, the patient's progress, and the riskiness of the potion versus the benefit to the patient.

…

"Before we begin another training session, there's an important matter I want to address," Voldemort began. Another Death Eater meeting - all his followers were gathered in a forest.

"Most of you are aware by now that Bellatrix is dead. As some of you know, the prophecy came to fruition. Bellatrix was strangling Hermione and trying to carve out my baby with a knife when I found them and killed her. The same goes for anyone who tries to harm Hermione or my child," Voldemort said sternly. He paused, and made eye contact with every last Death Eater. "Bellatrix was one of my longest serving, most faithful servants, among you since the beginning, but in the end, it didn't matter. Are there any questions?"

"My Lord - what if Granger tries to fight one of us in battle?" Avery asked.

"I sincerely hope that being five months pregnant, she would avoid a battlefield. If she does try to duel you, you are not to hurt her, even in self-defense. Use harmless First-year spells, a disarming charm, disapparate away, even."

"How was the prophecy fulfilled, my Lord?" one of the Carrows asked.

"Yeah – My lord, last time you said, quote, 'I don't care if she lives or dies. She is insignificant, like forgotten rubbish on the street.' What happened?" Nott pointed out.

Voldemort stared at Nott for a long moment. Nott's face blanched and he took a step back. "I did say that," Voldemort admitted. "Times change. As far as how the prophecy was fulfilled, that's a long story and we have lots of training to do before the next battle. The last training session was pathetic," Voldemort said. "Let's start with reviewing the Unforgivables. We are near an Acromantula nest – you can practice on the spiders. There's some human-sized ones farther back towards the nest, if you want a challenge."

As they broke apart and started practicing, Voldemort walked among them, correcting technique. ("Wormtail! How many times must I tell you? Intent! That spider won't drop dead unless you want it to!" "Again, McNair! Again!")

Once he was satisfied, he brought them back together. "And now, I'm going to show you a few more… creative spells. 'Pyrrhus' will create a stream of fire. A tricky little hex, you have to flick your wrist like so…Pyrrhus!" he said, and a jet of continuous fire shot out from his wand, not unlike a firethrower.

…

The dawn of another battle. She should've known he'd plan out another battle, even after she told him to end the war or she wouldn't be with him. She was five months along… the baby was wriggling like mad in there. Her stomach was getting bigger every day. Her white Healer robes stretched over her stomach. She packed her bag of medical supplies, cast a series of complex shielding charms on herself, and joined Tonks and Snape in apparating to Order Headquarters.

Harry looked surprised to see the three of them there. "I thought you lot quit," he said.

Tonks smirked. "Won't say 'no' to a battle, however."

"I can join the Dark Lord and fight on his side, if you prefer," Snape said dryly.

"Fine, stay." Harry said. "But you, Granger – you're pregnant, you shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."

"I can't stand by while my friends get hurt… I'm a healer, I can heal the injured, I can save lives, you need me! I cast lots of shield charms on myself, and I doubt the other side would attack me anyway."

"It's stray curses and hexes I'm worried about. You're pregnant. Stay here and protect your baby. Don't come!" Harry said, raising his voice.

"I'm coming whether you like it or not," Hermione said, and walked toward the front door with the rest.

"I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice," Harry said, and pointed his wand at her, pinning her to the stairwell behind her. He conjured some chains and rope and bound her to the railing, against her protests. "Let's go," Harry said to the rest, ignoring their agape expressions. He grabbed a handgun out of his pocket, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready.

"WHAT?! NO!" Hermione yelled, seeing the handgun. He has to think I didn't know… I hope Voldemort's wearing the vest…. "Don't do this!" she yelled, "I love him!"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Scared for her lover's life, her magic built and built within her, like a hurricane building power over the sea, until the chains and rope snapped in half and fell, pulling down sections of the stairwell with them. She blinked. Why didn't that happen when Bellatrix was trying to kill me and the baby? Strange. She apparated to the field. It was a cold wintery day, a sheet of snow stretched across the landscape.

Spells flew by overhead. She had cast another bubble shield around herself, as she scurried about the field, treating the wounded or injured. The battle was raging on – both the Order and the Death Eaters, and the recruited followers on both sides. Yells and screams, curses, and spells shouted into the air, spells of all colors whizzing by, shields shattered and recast, people running this way and that.

Hermione was repairing an unconscious Remus, hit by a nasty curse. She met Voldemort's eyes briefly across the battlefield. His eyes lingered on her stomach. It was so brief she may have imagined it, but she thought she saw a strange look of longing in his eyes. She looked like an angel… a ghost… a bride. His bride…. He forced his eyes away, as his attention was diverted by Harry.

Harry pulled the gun out of his robes and aimed it straight at Voldemort's heart. Heads across the battlefield turned at the blast. Voldemort flinched, but kept sending spells Harry's way. Harry dodged and fired and fired at Voldemort's torso – he only tensed. At Harry's puzzled expression, Voldemort ripped his robes down the center, revealing the Kevlar vest. "A gift from Hermione," he said, smirking.

Harry froze. She knew! She tipped him off! How? She must've overheard… She sent him a bulletproof vest!

He and Voldemort looked over at Hermione. She flashed a mischievous smile.

Voldemort summoned the gun and fired it at Harry's head, who only just barely ducked in time. He fired again, but heard a click – out of bullets. He threw the gun aside. They continued dueling.

Once Remus recovered and ran off, Hermione ran over to help Ginny, who was limping.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled out just as Harry yelled, "Sectumsempra!" The spells met in the middle and ricocheted off each other. The purple Sectumsempra spell sped off into the woods by the horizon. The Killing curse hit Hermione square in the chest. She shrieked, and fell flat on her back, unconscious. Red blood pooled out from between her legs, in stark contrast to the glistening white snow and her white robe.

Ginny reached her first. Sirius and Tonks were not too far behind. Snape sprinted toward them. Her face was blue. Ginny checked her pulse, and shook her head. "It's thready," she muttered. "I can barely feel it."

"No. No no no no," Tonks said, shaking her head. A tear shone in her eye. She glanced towards Voldemort. Voldemort looked paralyzed to the spot, frozen with horror. A look of pain and dread shone from his wide red eyes as he stared at her, mouth agape. Harry looked rooted the spot as well, staring wide-eyed at Hermione.

"Another casualty," Sirius murmured, sadly. Tonks shook her head.

"She's still alive," Tonks said. "But only just."

Snape reached them and put his hands over Hermione's abdomen and murmured old Latin, sounding like a song. The spilled blood retreated back into her.

Motion caught his eye, and Sirius, Ginny, and Tonks followed his gaze. A couple death eaters were running towards them, black robes spread out behind them. Sirius and Ginny warily grabbed their wands. A hand reached out from the cloak and removed the mask and lowered the hood. It was Lucius. Narcissa lowered her hood and mask as well. She bent down beside Hermione.

"You think we should take the baby out?" Sirius muttered. "He's kicking like mad in there." Narcissa looked at him as if he was crazy.

"Are you mad?" Narcissa yelled. "She's barely 5 months along! You do that, and the baby's lungs will collapse!"

"Do it to save her," Snape said. "Her body can't fight for its life and the baby at the same time."

"No," Molly said, having just reached them. "There's still hope left. Get her to St. Mungos! Intensive care ward!"

"I'll send over my private Healer," Lucius said.

Tonks and Sirius disapparated with Hermione's limp form. The last thing Voldemort saw were her glassy, unseeing eyes… he had seen more lively eyes on a frozen fish.

"Retreat!" he called, tapping his forearm.

…

He was drinking his ninth glass that night, and yet it did nothing for him. I failed her. She saved my life twice, and I as good as killed her. The battle was my idea. Not just her. I killed my son too. I should've done what she wanted, ended the war, listened to her. She would've been alive now… the bartender, kept pushing him to eat, but he had no appetite. He couldn't sleep. Alcohol did nothing. I have to see her.

He thrust some galleons on the table, and apparated to St. Mungos. Intensive Care ward, Molly had said. The receptionist said "visitor time is over," but with a quick "obliviate" (no use causing a scene, much as he wished to just obliterate her), he was on his way.

She was lying prone in bed, glassy eyes facing the ceiling. A series of blue numbers hovered in the air, tracking the pulse, blood pressure, and oxygen levels of her and the baby. A tube going down her throat was pumping a continuous potion. A device on her mouth provided oxygen. Harry and Sirius were there beside her, holding her hand. She was oblivious to them.

Harry and Sirius looked up to see him in the doorway. Harry stood and grabbed his wand, but Sirius blocked his arm.

"Is she…?" Voldemort asked softly.

"She's in a coma," Sirius whispered. "She's been in a coma for hours. Baby somehow fought off the Killing Curse – kept kicking as we were transporting her until finally Tonks and I just saw this green jet shoot out from her stomach to the sky. The healers don't know how, didn't even believe us at first until they saw how severely magically drained the baby was. Hermione and baby are in stable condition now, but the damage is done. She's in a coma, baby has a severe case of Magic Depletion sickness – worse they've ever seen. They've been giving a potion to help baby recover. Some kid you got there…"

"How long did they say she'll be like this?" Harry asked him.

"They don't know," Sirius said. "If she doesn't recover in four months – when gestation ends, and we can free the baby – then, I'm afraid it'll be a lost cause."

Voldemort nodded, turned, and left. I will not show weakness to my enemies.

...

Staring bug-eyed at the ceiling, he didn't get any sleep that night. My fault. It's all my fault. I should've listened to her, ended the war like she asked…. Seemed like she was asking too much then, now it seems like such a small request. Everything she did for me… she saved my life twice. His green Killing curse ricocheting off Potter's spell and hitting her kept replaying in his head. My son fought off a Killing curse and he's not even born yet! My son…. The prophecy wasn't kidding about a child 'surpassing the likes of Merlin.' I hope she wakes up.

He had to get his affairs in order.

Over the next few weeks, he halted all recruits – owled out notices, saying they wouldn't be needed.

Went out North to the dementors, went in the mountains to the Giants, and informed them their presence was no longer needed.

Gathered all his parchment planning out future raids, battles, attacks, ambushes, and threw them into a roaring living room fire, watched the corners catch fire first, before they furled under into smoke and flames.

Collected his books on war strategy, and tossed them in the still raging fire.

If his followers were curious as to the lack of battles, they said nothing.

His chest ached when he wasn't with her. He visited her whenever he could, watched her from the doorway, said not a word. If the Order thought it was strange, they said nothing. He liked it when Tonks or Severus was there – they were more welcoming than the others. He could never stay long - it pained him to see her like this. It had been over a month, and she wasn't getting any better.

"You ever notice her vitals dip a bit every time he enters the room? And then spike when he leaves?" Ron said once. "Almost as if she's relaxed by his presence…" Voldemort glanced at the numbers, and sure enough, her heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing rate were dropping a bit.

"Funny, mine do the opposite," Harry said dryly. Voldemort snorted. He patted Hermione's foot, clad in sheets. He heard footsteps in the distance and left before he was seen.

He was about to leave one night, when Tonks offered him a seat. He sat next to her, and clasped Hermione's hand. It felt cold and limp, lifeless. Still her eyes stared at the ceiling, unblinking and unseeing. He rested a hand on her 8-month stomach – his son was kicking fitfully in there, but calmed down at his touch. He pushed her hospital robe aside to bare her stomach. He saw a tiny foot recede, and a miniature hand came to the surface, pressing on her belly from inside – he held out his large spidery hand over her stomach, over his son's tiny hand, and felt slight pressure as his son pushed back on his palm. There's a little person in there! My son…. He can feel my presence! Wake up, Hermione! One month left and then they'll give up on you….

He got up at long last, and left.

That night, he put his wand to his forearm, and freed the Death Eaters. His servants, wherever they were, would feel a chill as the dark mark faded from their arms and vanished.

…

He returned to her side the next night, hoping to see her alive, awake, now that he had done what she asked. Yet still she lay lifeless, staring unseeing at the ceiling. Harry, Ginny, Sirius, and Ron, were there.

"The war is over," Voldemort said suddenly, making eye contact with Harry. He swiveled on his heel and left. Harry stepped over Ginny's legs and followed him out the door to the hallway.

"Over?" Harry echoed.

"Over!" Voldemort repeated. "No more battles or raids, purebloods and muggles can have equal rank for all I care. Have a long and happy life, Potter, play seeker for England - I don't care anymore!"

"Do you love her?" Harry asked. Seeker for England?

"I'm not discussing my feelings with you, Potter!" Voldemort hissed angrily.

"It's not a discussion! It's a yes or no question!" Harry yelled. Calm down, Harry…. No point starting a fight here. He took a deep breath. "Do you love her?" he asked calmly.

Voldemort sighed. He inclined his head once in affirmation.

"She asked me to end the war once, not to kill you…. everything she's done for me and yet it seemed like she was asking too much. And now…" Harry said.

"…it seems like such a small request?" Voldemort finished. "She asked me the same thing." There was a long pause and then he said, "Tell me about her. You knew her for years."

"She was one of my best friends, like the sister I never had…. Helpful, always put others before herself, called me out when I was being a prat, tried to stop me from doing something stupid. Brilliant. Always raising her hand in class with the answer – just about drove Snape mad. Aced all her OWLs and NEWTs, and helped Ron and I with our studies. More than booksmart, she was clever. She figured out that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered beetle animagus, and that Lupin was a werewolf. She figured out second year that it was a basilisk in the castle and was almost killed herself…"

Voldemort frowned with concern. All my fault. "She was?" he said in a tight voice. "I didn't know that."

"On the way back from the library. I was hearing a voice in the walls that no one else could hear. She realized it was a snake since I was a parselmouth back then, looked it up, and found out it must be a basilisk. She figured out it was traveling in the pipes, and realized muggleborns were petrified instead of killed this time because they saw the snake through something – a ghost, a camera, etc. They found her with a mirror…. If the snake found her before she figured that out…." He trailed off. She figured out that basilisk venom can destroy horcruxes too. I probably shouldn't bring that up.

Voldemort winced. I opened the Chamber of Secrets the first time, my diary horcrux opened it the second time…. They were leaning against opposite walls in the hallway.

"One thing I like about her – she didn't give a damn about fame. So many people seeing me as a symbol representing some sort of savior or celebrity or enemy or my father, and she just saw me for me, and that was it. During the Triwizard Tournament, all the blokes were hovering around Viktor Krum trying to get his autograph, and all the girls were following him, hoping he'd ask them to the Holiday Ball – and Hermione would get irritated at all the noise in the library when she was trying to study! Probably the one girl who ignored him – so of course he asked her." Harry paused. "I remember Ron telling her, 'you're fraternizing with the enemy' back then. What seemed like an overstatement then, seems like an understatement now…" Harry laughed.

Voldemort snorted.

"She punched Draco square in the face one time…so hard he slumped on the ground. Right in front of the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams."

"Completely unprovoked?" Voldemort said, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well no – there was a scheduling conflict for using the field for practice. Draco was gloating about the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One brooms his father bought the team. Hermione pointed out that no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in; they got in on pure talent. He called her a 'filthy little mudblood' – she er, didn't like that too much."

She slapped me in the face for saying that…

"You think I could play seeker for England?" Harry asked suddenly.

"The number of comments I've heard over the years from my Death Eaters who have seen you play or fly … Draco, Lucius, Severus, Igor, Quirrell, Barty Junior, Goyle Junior, an overheard comment from Ludo Bagman… That night the Order all disguised themselves as you, I just looked for the best flyer."

"Comments?" Harry said. I haven't heard anything…. Then again it's not like that lot would compliment me on anything.

"When Quidditch matches or Hogwarts came up in small talk, or when I was asking about my House, or inquiring about the progress of the Triwizard Tournament. Frustration over Slytherin losing, observation, or grudging admiration. I imagine the Auror department will be downsized now that the war is over. England hasn't had a Quidditch team make playoffs for the Quidditch World Cup in decades. A decent Seeker could fix that."

"Never took you for a Quidditch fan," Harry said. Hah! I bet Draco and Snape were frustrated at all the times Slytherin lost!

"I played Quidditch myself back at Hogwarts," Voldemort said.

"Let me guess – beater?" Harry said. I could just see him, hitting the Bludger as hard as he could at the other team…

"Chaser. Was team captain my final year. Hope my son plays when he goes to Hogwarts."

"Son? It's a girl. A baby girl," Harry said.

"I just assumed… I'm having a daughter?" Voldemort said quietly.

"The healers did some imaging of the baby to make sure it was okay. Definitely a girl," Harry said. "I don't trust you to Legilimens me but you should have this, it's your baby." He conjured a vial, put his wand to his temple, and extracted the silvery white memory. He placed it in Voldemort's outstretched pale hand. He held it up to the light as if trying to gleam the image, before pocketing it.

"Have a nice life," Voldemort said.

Harry blinked. Never thought I'd hear Voldemort say that…. "Same to you," Harry said. Voldemort nodded, swiveled on his heel, and left, the clack of his boots retreating in the distance.

Harry stared after him long after he left.

...

It was just Tonks again that night. She saw him in the doorway, staring at Hermione. Seeing his forlorn expression, she offered him her seat and left. He held Hermione's hand and reached a hand under her hospital robes, resting his hand on her large stomach, feeling the little hand pressing on his fingertips. He kicked his boots off, and lay on top of the sheets beside her, turning her hips with his spidery hands so they rested inside his. He brushed her hair out of the way.

"I ended the war," he whispered in her ear. "It's over." He caressed her neck with his long pale fingers. "Every last plan abandoned. Burnt. I freed my death eaters. They're free. We're all free. I swear to you, as long as I live, I won't hurt Harry or anyone else." He kissed her cool cheek. "Come back. Our baby needs you. I – I need you." Tears stung at his eyes. He kissed her slackened mouth. None of her fiery spirit shone in her glassy, lifeless eyes. He fought back tears. I will not cry.

"Come back to me, I miss you," he said softly. He clutched her limp body to his chest. "This is all my fault," he said, his crimson eyes blurring with tears. My Killing curse made her this way. She saved my life twice and I as good as killed her. A tear fell on her lips. "I love you," he whispered. He buried his face in her bushy hair.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and open. I'm lying in what looks like a hospital room. Lord Voldemort was lying beside her, holding her, his pale face buried in her hair, his red eyes shining with tears. His words came back to her, as if she were under water, and he, just above the surface.

"Voldemort?" she whispered. She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you too," she said softly in his ear. He raised his head, and looked wonderously into her eyes, her beautiful cinnamon eyes, as if afraid he was imagining it. Without a word, they were kissing, his mouth on hers, and the empty ache in his chest faded away for the first time in months.

He kissed her lips as if his life depended on it, her mouth parted as she moaned, and he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her. She fondled his tongue with hers. He felt himself harden, poking urgently against her thigh. She smiled under his mouth, and raised her gown above her waist as he unbuttoned his robe and freed himself. He thrust his aching manhood deep inside her soft wet folds, gasping as she did. He clutched her tightly to him as he made love to her. They fell asleep, her head resting against his pale chest, the sheets just high enough to cover her naked breasts and his groin.

Remus would walk in for his shift hours later, to find the bed empty and smelling of sex, and both of them gone.

Fin