Clarity

Chapter 10 – The Last Mission



Two and half months later, Hermione maneuvered her growing belly through the busy holiday crowd in Diagon Alley. She had wanted to meet Ron in Hogsmeade, but he informed her that Hogwarts students were running through the town for their weekend of freedom. She opted to meet him somewhere Ginny could not interrupt. Finally she came closer to the tiny deli she had come to love. She spotted the bright head of hair and smiled.



Ron had been a saint through this pregnancy. Generally she had been fairly composed, but once and a while her emotions got the best of her. She’d spend hours crying over Harry, shoveling chocolate ice cream into her in order to ease the depression. With as much as she ate, she was surprised at the fact that she hadn’t gained that much weight. “Baby weight” is what the doctors called it. They said she was extremely healthy, and not to worry about it. Mrs. Weasley thought differently. Hermione smiled again thinking about one day when Molly had brought over yet ANOTHER pot roast for Hermione to eat.



FLASHBACK



Hermione cheerfully waddled to the door, answering the loud knock. She grinned when she saw it was Molly. “I wasn’t expecting you!!” Hermione hugged her the best she could, seeing her belly was becoming a hindrance.



“Oh yes, I know. But last weekend I saw how skinny you still were, and I thought you could use another pot roast.”



“Mrs. Weasley, I haven’t finished the one you sent me four days ago!”



“Please, Hermione, it’s Molly. You’re an adult now.”



Hermione grinned and nodded showing Molly into the tiny house. “Well why don’t we put it in the kitchen.” Molly followed her and placed the roast on the stovetop. “How is the family?”



Hermione knew the answer, she saw them last week, but Molly loved to talk about her family. “Oh very well, of course. I’m so glad that you have been coming to Sunday dinners, even with events of the first time you came.” Molly’s eyes darkened at the thought of her daughter’s behavior.



Hermione gave her a small smile. “Well I never thought of skipping it. I feel as though you, the Weasley’s, are my family too.”

Molly took Hermione into a great big hug. “Oh of course, dear!! I’m so glad to hear you say that. I was afraid that because I wasn’t Harry’s real mum that I would miss out on this little one.” She rubbed Hermione’s belly. “I think of it as my own grandchild you know.”

Hermione grinned at her. “I do too, Molly. I just don’t ever want to get in the way of your relationship with Ginny.”

“Oh, dear.” Molly looked at her seriously. “I think of you as my daughter as well! And Harry as my son! Adopted of course, you see. But nonetheless, family. You could not get in the way of my relationship with Ginny any more than she could my relationship with you.” Molly sighed. “I don’t know when Ginny is going to grow up, but I hope it’s soon.”

Hermione smiled at her, and the two women started to put the pot roast away into Muggle Tupperware.



END FLASHBACK



She waved at Ron excitedly and waddled a little faster to make her way through the tiny restaurant to his table on the patio. The patio was charmed to be warm, just like the inside of the building, so the customers ate comfortably and watched the colder shoppers buzz in and out of the stores.



She kissed Ron on the cheek and sat down across from him, sliding as close to the table as possible. “How have you been?” She asked breathlessly arranging her coat and scarf on her chair.



Ron chuckled. “Fine, fine. Luna said you two had a fun time the other night?”



Luna had come over a few nights before, and the two of them spent the entire night eating junk food and watching chick flicks. Hermione loved girls’ nights. She grinned back at Ron. “Yea! Thanks for letting me have her for a night.” She winked at him and started to peruse the menu, even know she knew exactly what she wanted.



“Why do you even bother looking?” Ron asked her.



She laughed and put down the menu. “Habit, I guess.” Ron caught the waitress’ eye, and she came to take their order.



After the waitress had gone, Ron asked, “How’d the appointment go?”



That was the reason they were meeting. Hermione had just had her second doctor’s appointment. “Oh. Healer Williams said I’m very healthy. She said that the baby is too; it’s growing very normally apparently. Although, I feel like a beached whale.”



“Yea. You look like one too. How do you even get around?”



“Ron!!” Hermione looked shocked at him. She knew he was kidding, but really. “Don’t say those things to me, I’m carrying your best friend’s child!”



“Ok. I’m sorry. But seriously, you waddle.”



Hermione laughed and put her face in her hands. “I know!! I can’t help it. At least I have only a little over two months! I feel like this baby is not the normal size.”



Ron shrugged. “Well at least you can’t tell you’re pregnant from behind. Or, that’s what Luna says anyway. When’s your due date again?”



Hermione laughed again. “That’s what she told me too. That’s good. It means I haven’t gained any weight beside what the baby needs. The doctor said that I’m due February 13th.” Hermione felt her stomach, feeling it growl beneath her unborn child. “Anyway, the reason I wanted to meet with you is – wait a minute.” She dug around in her oversized-overused purse. “Ah here it is.” She slid a white envelope across the table to Ron.



Ron went to open it and she yelled, “No!”



“You gave me an envelope I can’t open.”



“You can’t open it in front of me.” Ron gave her a funny look. “Well, you see. I had Healer Williams put the sex of the baby in the envelope.”



“Hermione, I was only kidding when I said I couldn’t wait.”

Hermione held up her hand to silence his protest. “I can’t control if your curiosity gets the better of you. But don’t tell anyone else, especially me. I want you to give it to Harry when he gets back – if the baby isn’t born yet.”



“It won’t be – but why? Why don’t you just give it to him?”



“If I have it, then I’ll be to tempted to look. But I want him to have a part of this pregnancy that I don’t have, that no one else has. If he knows the sex, he’ll have a piece of the magic too. He can do whatever he wants with the information. If he wants to tell me, I’ll listen. But I want it to be his decision.”



Ron’s heart melted at her words. The love she had for Harry was unsurpassable. Not the least bit ashamed of the tears in his eyes, he wiped them dry. “Of course. I won’t even look.” Hermione nodded a thank you as their food was being delivered to them. There was a long silence while the friends ate. “Harry has sacrificed so much for this war.” Ron finally said. “I’m glad he’s coming home to you and the baby.”



Hermione smiled sadly, “Me too.”



~*~*~*~



Ron opened the quill drawer in his desk and charmed the envelope to stick to the bottom. I won’t open it. I’ll give it to Harry when he gets back, just like she wants. He was just about to get back to the paperwork he had left on his desk when Dumbledore appeared at his office door.



“There’s news.”



~*~*~*~



Harry sat by the dying fire in the middle of a forest in Northern France. It had been nearly two months since he received the letter from Hermione. By now it was worn and tattered. He had read it more times then he could count or remember. What he did remember was everything it said. It was a short note, but it spoke volumes. It spoke of love and commitment. And most of all it spoke of trust and pride.



Harry - my love,

Countless times over the past three months I have cried over you. Although I know you are meandering around Europe, you feel as though you are galaxies away. I’ve always felt so close to you through a connection I can’t explain, but somehow this journey has made that connection weaker. Maybe it’s because of your concentration on the task at hand, I’m praying it’s that. I couldn’t bear to loose you. My heart yearns for you to come home – so I can see you once again.



Be safe, my love, so you can come home and see how proud we all of you. No one would ever say you are a selfish man – you are the exact opposite. I love that you can care so much for the world to fulfill this destiny you have. I hope this is the last trek to find him – I hope when you come home it will be for good.



Waiting for your return,

Your Mione



Harry read through it again and again. It was what got him through these lonely, exhausting days. He was going to start reading it again, but Ron suddenly appeared at the other side of the fire.



“Harry. We’ve got him.”



Harry’s eyes widened. “Tell me.”



“The Order has just heard of a huge Death Eater camp in northern England – near York to be more precise. The camp is magically hidden to all Muggles and those who don’t know the password. The rumor says the compound has been in place for nearly a year, and it’s not going anywhere.”



“How’d you hear about this? I haven’t heard word.”



“After you sent the Death Eaters from the south of France to Azkaban, Dumbledore illegally interrogated them. They gave us the information. We also know what the Death Eaters were doing in the village. They destroyed all the evidence, but they told us. They were brewing a potion. The main ingredient – I can’t remember what it is.” Harry gave him a look. “It doesn’t matter, it’s not important to the mission. Anyway, the main ingredient grew in that region. They brewed the potion down there and shipped up to where Voldemort was staying at the time.”



“Aren’t they suspicious now that they aren’t getting it?”



“We have had Snape make the potion and send it to his contacts. His contacts said this is where they’ve been sending it.”



“And how do we know Voldemort’s not going to leave?”



“Two reasons. First – Snape said that the potion requires to be taken in stages. Each stage keeps the person in one atmosphere for three to four months. Voldemort has been receiving the potion for nearly two months now. Apparently it’s very difficult for a human soul to live in a reptilian body. This potions is supposed to slowly change his body back to human.”



“And the second?”



“The password.”



“What is it?”



“Harry Potter.”



Harry’s eyes darkened. “He’s calling me.”



“Yes, it would seem so. This is the end, Harry.” Ron stood up, gave him a hug, and said, “Good luck” before apparating away.



Normally Ron would have stayed with his friend to give him a since of normalcy, but he knew Harry would need to leave right away. He had no time to waste.



Harry extinguished the fire and packed his bag. Time to go. Time to end this. Part of Harry was relieved, but the other was extremely scared. He was so tired from the journey. He thought it was a miracle he hadn’t been loosing his strength along the way. He was convinced Hermione’s letter and the memory of her was keeping him strong. He shrunk his duffle bag and put it securely in his pocket. With wand in hand, he started to walk north to the English Channel.



A Muggle would have had to walk along the shore to find a shipping village. Harry merely transfigured a large piece of driftwood into a motorboat. He levitated the boat to the water and climbed aboard. After placing a silencing charm on the motor, he steered the boat to the other side of the Channel under the cover of the night.



When he got to the English shoreline, he transfigured the boat back to the piece of wood. He though of the most northern point of England he knew and apparated there. When he opened his eyes he was standing outside the Manchester United stadium – a Muggle football team. Over one summer break, Dean Thomas had taken Ron and him to see a football match – Manchester United vs. Liverpool.



Harry, of course, had played football in primary school. Ron didn’t see the entertainment in it. Harry smiled at the memory of Ron’s reaction. “So all these people are excited over men running around kicking a ball?” Later Ron saw a little bit of the excitement when Manchester United blew Liverpool out of the water and decided to finish the match by showing off their tricks.



The memory was one of Harry’s fondest. He felt like a regular 15-year-old boy that day. Now he was digging through is duffle bag pulling out every shirt he had brought. The England weather was dreary and damp – sending a chill straight to the bone. Leave it to Voldemort to be in the coldest part of England.



Harry could see the sunlight on the horizon; he had to get moving. When Harry hiked his mind wandered endlessly. He thought of what home was like at that very moment. He imagined Hermione was sleeping soundly in their bed, awaiting her early wake up call. Mrs. Weasley – Mum – would already be up cleaning the already spotless house. Harry missed home. It was coming up on December – he couldn’t believe he had been gone nearly seven months. He hadn’t forgotten her smell though, or the curve of her face when she smiled.



As much as Harry loved to think about Hermione, it pained him as well. He was completely oblivious to his fate, and her letter had given him not hints one-way or the other.



By mid day Harry had found a small, touristy village. He dug a few money notes out of his pocket and found the nearest café. He sat down at a tiny table and a plump woman bustled over to him.



“What can I get for you, hun?”



“Just a coffee, take away. And a croissant please.”



“Sounds great.” The women smiled at him and went off to tailor his request.



When his order was delivered, Harry dropped ten pounds on the table and walked out. He wasn’t worried about the money – he had brought plenty. He quickly surveyed the town and located an information center. Walking over to it he took a swig of his coffee. He hissed as the heat slid down his throat and fell into his stomach; he was warm instantly.



He walked up to the desk and started to shuffle through the pamphlets on top of it. He needed pictures. Some Wizards thought a picture was enough information for apparation. Harry, however, had tried it earlier in the journey and ended up in a neighboring town, rather than the neighboring country. He wanted the pictures to know he heading in the right direction.



“Can I help you, mate?”



Harry looked up to find a guy his age manning the desk. “Yea. How long does it take to backpack to York?” Harry posed himself as a tourist.



“From here? Blimey – I’ve never had anyone do that. Lets see – maybe four to five days – if you walk nearly all day and all night. You have to go over the hills you know?”



Harry nodded. “Yea.” The kid at the counter handed him several pamphlets of villages along the journey. Harry looked up at the clock and noticed the late hour in the day. “I better get going then. Thanks a lot!”



“No problem, mate. Good luck.”



Harry exited the building, took note of the late afternoon sky, and started on his way out of the village. The next few days were going to be long, he could already tell.

Just about five days later Harry entered a small village about 25 km from York. The hills had been horrible to get through, but Harry knew it was the fastest way. He had to get to Voldemort before something else got in his way. He had to go home.



He made a short stop at a local café, picking up some real food and a coffee to warm him. And then continued on. He had this strange feeling that the compound would be more apparent then he originally expected. Obviously, he had no clue where it actually was, but he felt as though he would just bump into it.



He had been walking for several hours, thinking about home and humming a dreary tune, when he cleared an abnormally large hill. As he looked down at the valley below, he took in the hundreds upon hundreds of tents. He sucked in a deep breath of air, unsure of whether the feeling in his stomach was excitement or nervousness. He scrambled back down the other side of the hill and sat on the moist grass. The sea of tents had to be the compound he was looking for.



“How am I going to do this?” Harry asked himself out loud. “Well it’s always darkest before dawn. I’ll go then.” Harry felt a little silly talking out loud to no one but himself. He had been alone for 7 months; he needed to interact with people. He conjured a pair of Muggle binoculars from one of the books Hermione had packed for him. He hated to admit it, but he had read each one of them three times – there was nothing else to do. He crawled to the top of the hill and watched the compound through his binoculars. He searched all day for signs of where Voldemort would be. Finally, he left his tent. Harry held his breath as he walked around the compound, talking to a select few, then walked back into his tent.



To easy. Harry thought. He senses I’m here. Harry now knew he had no element of surprise. He’d have to hope Voldemort would not sick his gooneys on him. Sliding back down the grassy hill, Harry laid back and waited for the darkness.



Harry woke up with a start. He hadn’t been planning on falling asleep. At the position of the moon in the sky, he guessed it was really early morning. Shaking himself awake, he started his journey down to the compound. Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous. He was determined.



At the first tent he came too he murmured, “Incendio,” pointing his wand at the rope. Each of the tents was attached to the other with one weaving rope. Without watching to ensure the tent was indeed on fire, he weaved in and out of the tents, making his way to the center of the compound. He became aware of the burning tents behind him. He smelled the smoke and heard the screams of the unexpecting Death Eaters. He had made it to the center of the compound and stood in front of Voldemort’s tent several moments before the Dark Lord exited his tent in a fury.



Death Eaters ran out of neighboring tents. Some shot streams of water at the encroaching fire, and other started to shoot hexes at Harry. He blocked a few before Voldemort boomed, “ENOUGH!” The heavy fire from the Death Eaters ceased.

Voldemort didn’t break eye contact with Harry and sneered, “Come to have me finish you off?”



“Hardly.” Harry snapped back. More Death Eaters had appeared around the two enemies. Their wands were raised and pointed at Harry. “Why’d you tell your gooneys to stop? Scared I’d kill them all before I killed you?” The Death Eaters unsuccessfully continued to extinguish the fire, but it quickly spread further down the sea of tents. The fire completely enclosed the group of spectators.



Voldemort hollered over the blaze of the fire, “I want this over just as much as you do, Harry. But I don’t want any of my men killing you before I get the chance.”

Neither Voldemort nor Harry took their eyes off each other. Slowly Harry removed his wand from jacket pocket and pointed it at the reptilian man. He heard some Death Eaters laugh out loud, and others snicker. Nonetheless, the crowd started to creep closer to Harry.



Voldemort held up his hand – ordering them to stop. “I want to finish this myself.”

Voldemort took something out of his own robes and tosses it to Harry – the second Harry caught it, both of them vanished.