Sleepwalker's Mistake

Seven weeks after the near-disastrous encounter in Godric's Hollow, Harry finds himself deserted by Hermione, as well as Ron. Alone and without a wand, Harry somehow contrives to find and destroy the Horcruxes, then end Voldemort in the Ministry's Atrium. Immediately, however, he is stunned and on revival find himself under arrest for a horrendous crime. Based on chapter 22 of broomstick flyer's Odd Tales of a strange muse.

A/N: My readers may be excused if they think my life's ambition is only to write takeoffs from broomstick flyer. At this point, I have five stories at various stages of completion as tributes. I am truly intrigued by this idea, but I found her execution of it left something to be desired. Hence this story, written in Harry's POV. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Desertion, despair, triumph and shock

The Forest of Dean, 18 February 1998

Four days ago, I awoke to find her gone. As terrible as this last betrayal from one of my so-called best friends was, it came as small surprise. Whatever relationship we had forged in the six plus years we'd been together from that first trip on the Hogwarts Express as first years had unraveled, collapsed, washed away as if it hadn't existed. And the worst of it was, I thought, I haven't a clue what I'd said or done, or not said or done to drive her away.

But somehow, I knew it was I who failed her; she'd have never left of her own volition, not after all she'd done to keep me and the quest alive. I spent two of the last three days searching for her and the day before hardly eating, hardly moving, just going over the last seven weeks in my mind as close to minute by minute as I could, wishing I'd Hermione's marvelous memory and coming up empty. Not that my own memory hasn't improved; I could not be able to scribe (scribble?) this account, now close to six and a half years from the tale's beginning otherwise. But I need to return to the beginning, seven and a half weeks earlier for this to make sense.

I knew something changed after our near-fatal visit to Godric's Hollow. So many bad and painful things happened that Christmas Eve night, but something good happened too.

When we found the cottage and memorial to my parents, then the graves ofDumbledore's family and my parents, I was devastated and ready to quit, ready to yield to Voldemort. She was my anchor that night, conjuring Christmas roses for my parents' grave markers. As we stood there, polyjuiced with arms around the other's waist, I felt at that moment a glimmer of feelings for her I'd never had with anyone, even when I dated Ginny. I stood next to her feeling truly at home, as if Hogwarts had been just a placeholder; I also felt a warmth inside. I had nothing to compare to this feeling; I'd never really allowed anyone to get close except Hermione and Ron, thanks to the Dursleys. I knew I'd never felt this warmth and never would have had felt it with my ex-friend Ron, nor with Ginny.

When I finally came to in the afternoon on Christmas Day, I found us both physical and emotional wrecks. For me, it went beyond the continuing pain from almost being crushed physically by the snake and the mental attacks by Voldemort replaying of my parents' deaths; I had felt hopeless knowing we wouldn't escape Voldemort this time and she would die. I could accept my own death but not hers.

But Hermione burst in, got the snake off me and somehow apparated us out of Godric's Hollow, to the tent and safety just ahead of Voldemort's entry into the house. A couple of times in the past, we'd played a game, trying to figure out which of us owed the other more life debts. We could only go so far before bogging down over what was really a life debt. We finally agreed that we were even. After this Christmas Eve 1997, she's now well out in front.

Hermione had been hurt pretty badly in the fight herself, hurts she'd ignored while she healed me. Even in my battered and somewhat addled condition, I saw that she was clearly sore, hurt and tired. Her emotional damage was even worse, she felt anguish over having to cut off the locket stuck to me with a severing charm, healing that wound and my other injuries and having to tell me my wand had snapped in our escape.

Eventually, I got her to understand that I was grateful that she'd saved my life, our lives, once again. She only accepted the truth when I told her that to me she was my first and only real friend (Bilius' boat left the dock in our fourth year and went totally out to sea, never to return when he deserted us that October). She brightened as I said we'd been a team since our first Halloween; a team no one had beaten, nor ever would beat. I could see her almost glow as I poured out my thanks for all she'd done over the years and begged her forgiveness for never telling her plainly what we both knew; that my story would have had a swift end without her loyalty and help. I decided against talking about my new feelings at the graveside just then.

When we finally went to our beds, exhausted; I thought all was about as well with the world as it could be under the circumstances. I guess I was wrong.

The next day, she complained about overall soreness and I could really tell she was hurting. She was walking gingerly and in some actual pain. That wasn't a surprise when I thought about the gymnastics we both did to keep that damned serpent from biting us. Voldemort arrived so quickly after it attacked us, I knew a bite from that snake would have had us killed by him, even if the snake didn't do us in on its own.

I brewed a healing potion and a pain potion under her direction, and rooted around to find the last of our stores of ditany leaves and essence, and murtlap essence. The leaves went into the healing potion and I gave Hermione the essences, letting her apply them. The areas where she hurt were in private places, and I had enough to do with two potions brewing at once.

She told me I earned 15 points for Gryffindor for each remedy and we laughed, bantering about what excuses Snape would have found to dock me those points. In between all this, I even managed to harvest a couple of rabbits from the snares we'd set and there was a good dinner with enough left for a good breakfast. Later, I knew this had been our last good day together for a very long time.

Next morning, we ate up, I checked the outside, taking down the snares and found another rabbit. When I returned I prepared the rabbit for later, packed my things and helped stow the things still out of place. We took down our protective spells and the tent, apparating away to set camp again.

-SWM-

After about ten days, I noticed two things. Although I didn't tell her, I'd not had a good night's sleep since Christmas. My nights were filled with restless dreams, none of which I remembered in the morning, but which kept me from really having a decent night's sleep. Oddly, I always remembered my usual nightmares when I woke and despite them I'd usually managed to get some rest. I chalked up the odd dreams and fatigue to 'Potter's Luck', and left it at that.

Hermione seemed to have made a full physical recovery; at least she had thrown herself into research and guard duty with vigor. I noted though, that she seemed preoccupied, like she did when she hadn't solved a problem. She's less talkative, doesn't want to engage in the reminiscences we use to keep our worries at bay, she also seems a bit reluctant in loaning me her wand when I guarded the tent.

Two weeks or so into January, we'd moved again, just a few miles from a village. She was gone for most of the day saying she'd get us supplies. Since I only had a small pouch of Galleons and she still had Pounds that made sense. I finished setting up camp and set back to work, trying to gain some sort of clue on finding more Horcruxes and destroying the one we had. I was still deathly tired. Sleepwhen I had those dreams didn't revive me. I checked, but we didn't have the makings for any sleep potions, let alone a dreamless potion. Even at that point, I didn't want her to worry about something I was sure we couldn't fix. I'd simply have to plow on.

Unusually for us, we stayed in one spot for three weeks. When I asked, she said rather snappishly, "Honestly Harry,it is a good location. It'sclose to suppliesand it's far enough away from magic that no one will find or look for us here. And until we get a brainstorm, one place is as good as another!" Then she stomped into her room.

I couldn't argue against her. It made sense, the snares were working well and we ate about as well as we ever had since Ron left. But things weren't good with us. We hardly did anything together except cook and eat. When I tried to compare notes, she said we had nothing new and she didn't want to discuss old ideas again. A week and a half into this stay, she shopped again; when she returned, she seemed almost manic.

"Harry, go out and get us firewood. Don't come back until you've got enough for at least three days!" I did so, glad that she at least talked to me.

I felt frustrated and I thought about suggesting that she leave me and let me try on my own, usually before my fruitless tries for restful sleep. I never did since I knew I'd never survive without her. Still, I wondered if that reasoning wasn't totally selfish. We moved a couple more times and soon it was official; we were only tentmates and barely that. She kept as far away as possible, she wouldn't let meuseherwandat all,and days would pass without our talking. I tried a couple times to talk to her, but she just ignored me, like I wasn't there.

I couldn't get near enough to see her eyes, but I know now if I had, I'd have seen fear in them.

The night of 13 February (later that irony seemed as painful as taking the Cruciatus) she took the first watch. That night, I had the first good night's sleep since Godric's. It was Potter's Luck though; when I rose I found her gone. Searching the tent, I could tell she must have packed quickly and lightly, there were things she wouldn't have left otherwise, including 200 Pounds.

I spent the next day searching around our campsite and the area surrounding, as far as the road, five miles away. There was no sign of her. I staggered back and ate something, then tried to sleep. That night, I spent remembering how she acted since Christmas Eve; trying to work out what had happened. I guess Hermione's had enough, and bailed out for a life not on the run. I can't blame her a bit.

-SWM-

By 16 February, I lost any hope of seeing her again soon. Actually, I knew my survival was hopeless so if I ever met her again I'd be on my Next Great Adventure. I decided to pack and try going off the grid and live as a non-magical.

Packing was a problem. Without a wand, my magic was very limited, so just collapsing and shrinking the tent wasn't an option. I had Ron's trunk, her trunk and mine, so I was going to pack and shrink them, then put them into my mokeskin pouch. I went through her trunk and tossed out her clothing. Then I pulled out all the books from her trunk, my trunk and throughout the tent and set them aside. I found nothing useful in Ron's trunk except for a small pouch of Galleons. I went through all the books, discarding those that didn't bear on the hunt. I tied the rest in stacks and found by laying my hands on them and by concentrating. I could do wandless magic and shrink them, then I put them into a trunk.

I did the same for the parchments, burning those I didn't keep. When I got to the non-magical world, I'd get notebooks and pens. I couldn't see packing potions ingredients or cauldrons. I discarded the worst of my clothes. I went through thetent with a fine-toothed comb in case I'd missed anything. I found a few items, then I came across three small crystal and metal balls about half the size of a quaffle. They were not marked, and I had no idea what they were. I was going to discard them too, but then packed them, acting on an obscure impulse.

When I was done, I had three trunks, one of my belongings, our notes and the most important books. The second had the rest of the germane books, the third the other items in the tent. By the time I shrank the trunks and put them into my pouch, I was exhausted. So I ate half of the food I had left and fell into bed. Perversely, I slept well and deeply. Early next morning, I ate and left.

-SWM-

I struck out towards the road and covered the five miles easily in less than two hours. Once there, I had to figure out which direction to take. I knew we'd set up near a town but since Hermione had done the shopping, I didn't know where the village lay and I saw no signage. I chose a direction and walked about twenty-five yards off of it hoping I'd see a sign soon. Fortunately, the road, really a country lane, had no traffic, so I attracted no attention. After about an hour, I stopped to take stock. There was little to see, not even fields. I just started again, when my instincts made me dive to one side, as the red light of a stunner whipped past me.

"Lucky as always, Scarhead! Pull out your wand and fight!" Potter's Luck came through again. I'd been found by a DeathEater, Draco Malfoy in fact. I was ready to abandon hope and see if I could goad him enough that he'd kill me by accident and put me out of my misery. Then I realized two things I might turn to my favor. First, he seemed to be alone, so I could safely concentrate on him. Second, I knew his ego often got in his way, so he might leave me an opening if I could get close enough, and I thought he'd fold in a physical fight.

"Where're the mudblood and the blood traitor.?"

"Just us two today, ferret."

His face lit with a twisted grin. "So they got wise and left you? They should have brought you in; the blood traitor could have gotten in the Dark Lord's good books. Even the mudblood might have been allowed to live. I'd have even sponsored her."

I kept my possessive(?) disgust at the thought of what his sponsorship of Hermione might have meant to myself. I reckoned that killing her first would have been more merciful. While he'd talked, I'd drifted closer, he'd let me cut the distance in half. I was sure now he was alone, anyone with him would have finished me by now. "Same as always, Malfoy. All talk no action."

His face twisted with hate. "I'll show you action, Potty! Confrigo!"

He started firing curse after curse, but his anger fouled his aim and I closed in on him as I dodged and the idiot never noticed. I got to about ten feet from him and shouted, "Now Ron!" He flinched and looked over his shoulder. I took the last few feet in a bound, and tackled him to the ground, planting a knee in his gut, and wrenching his wand out of his hand. I rolled off of him. His wand felt as warm and good as my old wand had. I pointed it at him. "I reckon this is goodbye, Malfoy." His sneer was Snape good. "Oh you'll not do anything, Potter. You're too noble to deliberately hurt anyone."

I smiled and liked the look of uncertainty in his eyes. "People change. Sectumsempra!" Draco's head was cut in two, just above the eyes. After I was sure he was gone, I went through his pockets and cloak, finding a pouch with 1,500 Pounds, also a pouch of Galleons, a wand holder and a shrunken Firebolt. His boots were my size and his cloak was better, so I found a place to sit and put on the boots. I put on his cloak over mine and went on.

-SWM-

I could feel the afterglow of battle propel me on. Good boots and the extra cloak didn't hurt my progress. I made good time for the rest of the morning and afternoon. I reckoned I'd gone fifteen miles or so in total, when I saw a hut in the waning afternoon light. I slipped on the invisibility cloak and carefully approached it. There was no snow here, but the ground was muddy enough to leave some traces, so I took a wide circle and worked my way to the back. I found it was seemingly abandoned, but in reasonable condition. The door was unlocked and I entered.

Other than the dust, it was comfortable. I found bottled water and dried fruit. I ate that for dinner. When the light was nearly gone, I found some blankets. Sleeping in the bed didn't seem safe, so I made a nest settled down wrapped in my cloaks with the invisibility cloak hiding me from view. I reviewed the day's events in my mind; I found I had no guilt over killing Malfoy, he was a soldier for the other side. I wouldn't seek them, but If we chanced on each other, I wouldn't leave a DeathEater alive if I could help it. I pondered on the other matters eating at me and finally dismissed them for later, when I had the leisure to think things through methodically and drifted off.

I woke the next morning after another good night's rest which bothered me. I had slept well ever sinceHermioneleft,whichI wouldn't have guessed wouldhappen; after all, I should be distraught. This fatalism was new for me, but I thought living for the moment until I had space to ponder and plan could work as well for me as anything I'd tried since the wedding. I ate more dried fruit, taking the rest andrefilled my bota bag of water.Unless I found civilization soon, I'd have to go on short commons, not that I wasn't used to that from my earliest years, but it was never fun.

I left and found a comfortable steady pace that didn't tire me. Around noon, I saw a town about a half mile or so off. I retreated until it was out of sight, found cover, and removed the invisibility cloak and stowed it. I walked into the town on the road without drawing a second look from the locals. I ate at a local restaurant then found a department store. I bought better fitting utilitarian clothes, stationery and a largish backpack. I changed in the fitting room, leaving my castoffs and packed the rest in the backpack before leaving. I found a modest motel and took a room for a week. The proprietor accepted my story of being a student taking a break from school. I took a nap until evening, found a café then returned for another night's sleep before getting to work.

After breakfast next morning, went to the Royal Mail post office and paid a year's fee for an office box under the name of Carl Evanson and some stamps. Returning, I found the room made up, so I got out my trunk and expanded it, using a wand was a lot easier on me, I can tell you! I first got out the notes we made since Grimmauld PL and very carefully redacted them filling one notebook. The books and notebooks I placed under a notice-me-not charm. I then took the large shopping bag I'd kept and bundled the parchments in with the rest of my old clothes then shrunk the trunk, replacing it in my pouch. I took the bag to a large dump and made sure it was well mixed in with the rubbish already there.

I returned to the motel after lunch and sat down to write a very carefully worded letter to Gringotts. I told them I needed help to access my vault, get identification for my Carl Evanson pen name and consult with someone who could help me with a very, very confidential matter that could affect the goblins and most of the UK. I briefly thought about how useful Hermione's input would be for this letter and ruthlessly pushed that wish away. She made her choice and I willy-nilly needed to cope. I copied the letter wandlessly, then put one in an addressed stamped envelope and filed another in a folder. Even though I knew it wasn't likely that DeathEaters would look for magicals here I couldn't take the risk so I used the wand as sparingly as I could. I renewed the notice-me-not sans wandand went to the post office and sent it. I hoped I'd get a prompt reply.

Back in the room I opened a blank notebook and thought about everything I had learned about Horcruxes from my second year on referring back to the notes I recopied. I thought and crosscheckedwith care before I wrote. My thoughts oddly took the form of a dialogue with Hermione. At first I was angry about this but then saw I was more focused and thorough than when I relied on a mental monologue.

I labored for several hoursuntil I was hungry andmy concentration flagged. I ate still thinking about my afternoon. It struck me that my work today was structured better than the research at Grimmauld. Maybe there were too many cooks there. It was an interesting idea but not important now. I returned knowing I dare not continue, my thinking wasn't as sharp now. I looked at the telly and watched a football match for a bit then turned in.

I worked at my research until noon next day. After lunch I needed some variety. I got under the cloak and enlarged the broomstick then flew up to a height of 500 feet. I spotted several copses outside the town and went to one. Reducing the broom I carefully checked for others. When I knew I was alone I cast our (ignoring the pang of pain at that thought) protective charms. For the next several hours I cast the strongest spells I knew wordlessly and then working on wandless casting. After alternating between the two forms for several hours I stopped feeling I wouldn't successfully apparate otherwise. I rested then repaired the damage. When the area looked natural again I left the copse and apparated back, ate, relaxed and slept.

I spent the next week the same way but checking for mail at noon. Two days later I got a letter from no one I recognized. When I carefully opened it, It was from Gringotts. Inside it had a series of instructions. I pricked my finger and put a few drops of blood on a piece of parchment. Amazingly, a magical genealogy appeared, showing my true name. I folded and put it and my vault key in apreaddressedenvelope andmailed it.

In several more days a thick packet came to me. Inside was a wallet with identification, a British passport, a birth certificate and other papers declaring I was Carl Evanson age eighteen. I filed the passport and other identification and familiarized myself with using the wallet. I could name a sum and it appeared in whatever currency I named. I learned I had a vault keeper one Olddorf with whom I could transact business. I spent the afternoon and the next day looking at apartments and choosing one I signed the lease, and paid first and last month's rent and a security deposit. I bought cookware, tableware, towels and food. I packed my room and checked out of the motel. The apartment was sparsely furnished but had some furniture and sheets for the bed. It would do.

-SWM-

For the next two weeks I did my daily routine. My neighbors were civil but distant which suited me. By then it was the middle of April and my research was as complete as my resources allowed. I knew certain things. I knew Voldemort planned on six Horcruxes. I knew that two were destroyed the diary and the ring. I had the locket but no way to get the Sword of Gryffindorwith whichDumbledore unmade the ring thus no way to destroy it. The Basilisk's fang had done for the diary but I had no access to Basilisk venom either. The books we brought suggested that the Killing Curse or Fiendfyre might do the job, but therewasn't anyway I could do anUnforgivable curseand never ever the one that killed mum and dad, Cedric, Gregorovitch and Grindelwald. I found a spell for Fiendfyre but I didn't know if I could cast it or keep control of it.

I had hypotheses about the other three. The memories Dumbledore showed me strongly suggested that Voldemort was fixated on relics of the Founders. Also one memory involved Hufflepuff's Cup. I knew that there seemed to be an interplay between Voldemort and members of the Black family. He'd entrusted the diary to Lucius Malfoy married to the former Narcissa Black. To hide the locket he used the Black family elf Kreacher and Regulus Black stole the locket at the cost of his life. What if third time was the charm? Bellatrix Lestrange was born a Black, Narcissa's sister and Regulus' cousin. She seemed to be Voldemort's most trusted servant. I'd bet a pound to a penny it was in the Lestrange vault!

Ravenclaw's Diadem was trickier and more speculative. Rowena Ravenclaw had a famous diadem. According to Hogwarts: A History, the diadem was stolen by her daughter who fled to Albania. Voldemort knew Albania. At the end of the second year Albania was where Dumbledore said the shade of Voldemort had gone after I kept him from the Sorcerer's Stone. Albania also played a rôle in Voldemort's reanimation after the third TriWizard task. One of the memories Dumbledore showed me was Voldemort in Hogwarts applying for the DADA professorship. Hogwarts: a History, had a drawing of the diadem that stunned me for I recognized it. It was in the Room of Requirement more precisely the Room of Hidden Things where I'd thrown the Prince's book away. Again pound to a penny I knew the Horcrux and its location. The trick was to get it and destroy it.

My gut told me Nagini was the last Horcrux. I didn't have books records or testimony to back me up, only my experiences. Still I knew that I had a connection with Voldemort and that at Christmas of my fifth year I had a vision ofArthur Weasley attacked by that snake from the snake's point of view. And when it attacked me in Godric's Hollow Voldemort came posthaste. I was sure she's his familiar but Hedwig had been my familiar and we couldn't communicate as well as that so it had to be more and a piece of him inside fit that bill. It took another eight months for me to suss out the full implications of this line of reasoning.

-SWM-

Now I wrote a very long detailed letter to Olddorf in which I detailed the prophecy about Voldemort and me and my suspicions about the Horcruxes; I asked them to find a way to check the Lestrange vault and find a way to destroy the Horcruxes. I had my usual mental dialogue with Hermione when I composed the letter; I no longer felt anger when this happened but a sense of comfort. Oddly I had never felt so close to her at any other time in my life. I wondered what that meant.

Two days later they sent back a bulky mailer within which was another mailer and a peculiarly heavy densely woven bag. The letter told me to place the locket into the bag which would protect others from the effects of the Horcrux. They also asked for detailed instructions for reaching the Room of Requirement and the Room of Hidden Things giving as much detail as I could about where is saw the diadem. I spent the rest of the day writing, as 'we' went through my recollections of that incident of my sixth year. I mailed it off the next day.

Two weeks later I received a package containing two sheathed daggers, one with a silver handle, the other gold and a long letter of explanation. In it, they told me that by using the locket I sent they discovered there was a Horcrux in that vault and it was the Cup. They retrieved the Diadem from Hogwarts; I realized that Professor Flitwick must still be there.

The letter went on to explain the daggers. They had taken a set of two goblin-made daggers and soaked the bladeof the gold-handledone in Basiliskvenom;this they then used to destroy the Locket, Cup and Diadem. They were giving me the pair to finish Nagini. They reasoned that I would not get close enough to the snake to stab it so I'd have to attack it by throwing the knife. Fortunately their sources told them that Voldemort always had the snake with him when he had public levees on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They further told me Nagini didn't have any sort of wards or other magical protection; Voldemort seemed to think his presence was enough.

They told me to start by using lighter throwing knives and gave me the name of a store in town that sold them. I would have to work on accurate and strong throwing. The second knife was for practice as it was identical in weight and balance to the envenomed knife.I knew the other knife was extremely dangerous and resolved not to draw it until I threw it at Nagini.

What followed was arguably the hardest six months of my life. I continued to work on my magic but cut that back to twice a week. I found the store Gringotts mentioned and bought four sets of throwing knives ranging from rather light to nearly the same weight as my battle knives along with a couple of how-to books. I also bought a couple set of competition darts and a target for the knives.

I started with two hour sessions in one of the copses. It took a week but I started to hit the target with some regularity with the two lightest sets of knives. I soon learned that I was woefully weak for this task therefore I joined a gym. I worked out five days a week in the mornings. I started feeling jittery about my final campaign of the war I'd been in since before my birth. I noticed a holistic center offering meditation classes and signed up. I was surprised to find that I took to it easily and made great progress. I realized that Snape had actually taught me something in those Occlumency lessons in my fifth year. I could let go of my emotions and pretty much any time I wished to do so. I found I could organize my thoughts and memories and think more clearly. The last part of my training program came in the evenings. I began to frequent a pub at nights from 7:00-10:00 throwing darts. While the darts were terribly light and the mechanics weren't entirely the same I found I could hone my accuracy and precision by playing.

By the beginning of May I had settled down in a routine: an hour of meditation on rising and washing up, breakfast, then a two hour training session at the gym. Following that was my meditation class then lunch. Afternoons were spent training with the knives in one copse and magical training twice weekly in another copse. Dinner then the pub. I limited myself to two pints of bitter over the three hours. Once home I meditated, then went to bed. This was basically six days of the week On the other I relaxed and read books I borrowed from the library.

By the end of June my training was paying dividends. My physical training had put fifteen pounds of muscle on me. I'd never be a bodybuilder but my entire body was much stronger. I could throw my medium weight knives with power and the light weight knives with power, accuracy and precision. Already I was one of the better dart players at the pub. My magic was stronger and I was sure I coulddefeat any DeathEatereven Bellatrix in a one on one fight and as many as three of the average DeathEaters at once. My mind was clearer, my thinking better.

I even had a sense of Hermione's proximity during meditation. I'd thought a lot about her. I was now convinced that what I felt for her was love. My memory was now so good that I could recall many incidents and now knew the development of my feelings even though I'd not recognized them at the time.

By early October I knew I was close to ready. My magic was stronger than it had ever been. Sheer numbers could defeat me but I was certain I could beat any group of five to ten DeathEaters. The point in my favor was Voldemort himself would be so eager to kill me that he'd order them not to interfere. I could throw all my knives with power, precision and accuracy even the second knife given to meby Gringotts. My mind was clear and analytical and I'd never thought so well. Finally I had control over my emotions. Final polishing and I would finish the war.

Ironically my epiphany came on Halloween. Sunday was my totally off day that week and I was idly thinking about my life since Christmas Eve. I was no closer to knowing why she left but I didn't dwell on it either. But when I thought back on the letter to Gringotts about the Horcruxes I realized the hideous truth. The arguments I'd formed about Nagini, turned on their head, applied tome too. In that moment I knew I was a Horcrux too. Memories from throughout my years at Hogwarts flooded my mind and organized to form a coherent and compelling picture. It took several hours of meditation to bring me to a point where I could slumber.

Next morning I skived off my meditation session and wrote a letter to Gringotts detailing my realization my plans for Voldemort and asking for whatever logistical help they could give. As I wrote the letter my 'inner Hermione' tried to challenge my reasoning and when that failed she begged me not to go on with my plan but to flee England. Eventually she surrendered and helped me write. A week later a lengthy missive came from the bank. In it they agreed that my reasoning was sound and offered some refinements on the plan. From them I had a diagram of the Atrium as it was arranged for the levee. They also supplied me with a Portkey to the apparation point Ministry employees used. For the last ten days I finished my preparations. I threw my heavy knives wearing a thin leather, Kevlar-lined glove. I would not throw the envenomed knife barehanded.

-SWM-

On 17 November I did my morning routine through breakfast then I carefully dressed in what I termed combat clothes: pants and long-sleevedshirt, both tight enough to avoid their catching on anything just loose enough not to bind. The sheath of the gold handled knife placed on a web belt, my wand in a narrow pocket on my right leg. My invisibility cloak would fit in a large pocket on my left leg. I packed my trunks shrunk them and put them into my mokeskin pouch. I'd shined my 'lucky' Draco boots yesterday and put them on.

At 9:45 I portkeyed to the apparation point and apparated into the Atrium. I saw that the diagram they gave me was accurate. I carefully walked to the spot I'd chosen; a good view but one where I could avoid people walking into me.

When 10:00 came there was a raucous-sounding fanfare and a DeathEater announced Voldemort as he entered with Nagini at his side. The serpent hissed loudly and opened its mouth wide. I took my chance and threw the knife forcefully into its mouth, where it lodged in its skull. The venom worked almost instantly and the Atrium rang with the death cry of the Horcrux. In the pandemonium I removed and stowed the cloak.

Voldemort screamed, "Who would dare to do this deed?! I shall kill a thousand if you do not yield yourself to me!"

"Tom who else has been the pain in your arse all these years?" I said, stepping into clear view. "You don't have your little crutches anymore all gone you got seventeen years of stolen life but in the end Harry Potter got you just as you knew he must." I then fired a banishing charm at him that sent him crashing into the wall so hard I heard bones break.

For the next twenty-five minutes we traded spells. He was too furious at first to aim precisely and I had no problem dodging his spells. On the other hand my counters kept breaking his shields and injuring him more and the damage took its toll. Clearly my practice had made me stronger than I ever suspected. Finally I caught him with two Sectumsempra curses removing his left arm at the shoulder and his right leg above the knee. I could see him bleeding out and reckoned that even magical medicine couldn't save him.

So, time for the final loss in my life. I'd lost my parents and Neville's parents who would have reared me. I've lost my godfather twice, the last time for good. I've lost friends some of whom I knew about, others certainly since his takeover of the Ministry. I've lost Ron. But worst I've lost Hermione whom I realized far too late I loved. Now that I ensured his death it was time to end my short and painful existence and seek my Next Great Adventure.

I walked towards him my arms at my side. "It's over Tommy."

He gave me a look of hatred despite the bleeding and injuries. His mouth worked and he shrieked. "Not yet! Avada Kedavra!" He was fading, even as he cursed me, and I saw him collapse as the spell reached me and then I saw nothing.

-SWM-

I awoke naked and in a deserted and sterilely clean King's Cross Station. I found a robe and donned it then heard a moaning. Looking I saw two bundles of rags within each of which something feebly moved.

I then heard a voice say, "You cannot help."

Looking up I saw Dumbledore. "Odd I'd hoped to see my parents and grandparents on the start of my Next Great Adventure you're well down on the list of those I wanted to see now that I'm dead."

"But my dear Harry, you are not dead, at least yet. When the curse struck you, it took the part of Lord Voldemort's soul that attached to you that sad night. You can return by simply willing it so."

"Then I'll return. You have a lot to answer to but I don't feel like staying here and going into it. I'll go back and hopefully find Hermione and talk to her. But with Potter's Luck, it's going to be a mistake. Goodbye, Headmaster."

And then I was back. I struggled to my feet ignoring the gasps and shouts. I looked down on the putrid mess that had been Voldemort. As I started to turn away I heard two women screech, "For Hermione!" I caught a glimpse of red then oblivion.

A/N: First, a big shout out to my Beta, Alix33. Betas keep me on the straight and narrow, bless them all. Any goofs are on my dime.

I hope my efforts meet with your approval. I'm trying not just to honor broomstick by using her one-shot as inspiration, but to write it also in as close to her writing style as my own limitations as a writer allow. So, if you noticed some run on sentences and paragraphs, they're part of the tribute!

I note that fellow writer, Gryffindor Tom is posting his version of this same one shot currently. For the record, I have been working on this story off and on since February. Further, any comparative reading will show that we have taken broomstick's story in different directions.

Unlike most of my stories, this story is already completed. The chapters will be posted twice weekly, about noon Central time, Wednesdays and Sundays. I don't envision making any content changes, but should a reviewer make a compelling enough case, I might change my mind and of course, cite the reviewer.

This is also on my profile, which is recently update and you ought to take a look at.

Like many writers on the site, I have my own spelling idiosyncrasies. I just like the looks of 'DeathEater(s)' and 'TriWizard'. So please don't bother correcting those spellings.

One point I need to clarify. On my profile, I say that I won't make Harry this strong. There are two issues though to keep in mind:
First, this is inspired by broomstick flyer's work and so I play by her rules, therefore Harry is much stronger than in canon.
Second, my opinion is that the destruction of each Horcrux weakens Voldemort's ability to do magic, both offensively and defensively. Canon is obscure on the point, but I fancy that each time he makes one, his soul is roughly halved. He'd done it seven times, so he has roughly .78% of his soul in his magically reconstructed body. When he fought Harry in fourth and fifth year, he had 50% to 75% of his soul, depending on whether the diary was the first or second Horcrux he made. By his final confrontation with Harry, he had only the 1.56% of his soul left (half in him, half in Harry) and that weakens him to the point that Harry can damage him so badly. When Voldemort throws the Killing Curse the final time, his soul and magic collapse, killing him for good.

The story recommendation for this chapter is Odd Ideas of a strange muse, id 6816737, Chapter 22, A Sleep walkers mistake. This is the one-shot on which this story is based.

There is usually a poll up on my profile. Your input is needed. Please check and vote

Once more, thanks to all of you who read my efforts. Visitors, hits, reviews, follows, favorites, C2s are my only payment. Believe me, they make me feel rich!

Posted: 00/00/2016

Reposted: 00/00/2017
Words: 7,372