What a Witch Needs

Hi everyone! Can’t say I wasn’t a bit nervous writing this chapter as it is a climatic one. I’ll write more about it in the author’s note at the end. Enjoy!

Beta’d by Narcissa Black and gardengirlgarden. Thank you!

Fire and Ice


What was this?

Severus Snape looked at his Godson, except it was no longer his Godson. The young man standing there had just proclaimed himself to be Mordred! Snape looked at the possessed body of Draco with fear and confusion, his torch-wand shaking indecisively. He glanced quickly at Merlin, who had now shifted his eyes towards ‘Mordred’. Merlin’s eyes were free of ice but his mouth was still covered, unable to utter the necessary magical words to fight Mordred.

Then Merlin’s eyes swung to Snape, and Severus gasped. The trapped wizard looked towards the side of the cavern, and then back to Severus. Snape turned his head and saw nothing but a pole sticking straight up from the ground. No, wait… it wasn’t a pole – it was a staff. Merlin’s staff! Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

Snape ceased his melting and moved quickly to the staff, tugging and pulling at its frozen length and hoping that his magical barrier would be strong enough to keep Mordred out. The staff would not give, so Severus put one foot on the cavern wall next to him and began to push on the staff with his whole body while keeping his eyes on the others.

Mordred had his attention on Merlin for a few moments before he turned to look upon Snape and his frantic quest to acquire Merlin’s staff. A smile grew on Mordred’s face and he laughed, amused at Snape’s efforts.

“Severus!” Dumbledore called, knowing the danger was escalating quickly. “Cease your actions immediately. I fear this will go badly for you.”

“Never!” Snape yelled, his face burning red and teeth clenched with the effort of trying to free the staff. “No!” Snape shouted when Mordred stepped effortlessly past his magical barrier and slowly, mockingly, began making his way towards Snape.

Severus let go of the staff and pressed himself back against the wall, his wand at the ready. “Stay back,” he shouted, fearfully, wand quivering in his hand. “Avada Kedavra!”

“NO!” Hermione screamed, fearing what would become of Draco. She clutched Dumbledore’s arm and sobbed loudly.

Green arches of deadly energy flew out of Snape’s wand and surrounded Mordred. When the green light faded, Mordred was still standing.

He smirked at Snape.

Then Mordred turned his head towards Merlin, whose eyes were riveted angrily upon him. Mordred began walking towards Merlin, disregarding Snape as if he were insignificant.

Severus breathed in relief and immediately went back to pulling on the frozen staff as Mordred walked away.

Hermione, Dumbledore and Bugger watched, wide-eyed, as Mordred stepped up in front of Merlin. “Greetings… Father,” Mordred smirked. “Do you wish to know how long you have been asleep?”

Merlin appeared to be struggling, wanting to burst free of the rest of the ice.

“Yes?” Mordred taunted, answering for the imprisoned wizard. “It has been many hundreds of years. They have done well without you. So many wonders have they built. They have even traveled to the stars. All without you, Father. Soon they will know all that you know, all the secrets you have hoarded to yourself.”

Merlin’s eyes glared at Mordred, filled with hate and the promise of revenge.

Crack!

Hermione, Dumbledore and Bugger swung their attention to Snape, who had now managed to pull the staff from the ice. He grasped its frozen length in both hands, trying to decide how to use it.

“Severus!” Dumbledore shouted.

Mordred turned his upper body and looked back at Snape, who was holding the staff and pointing it towards him.

Severus, however, had no idea how to use it. Perhaps he only needed to touch the tip to the ice surrounding Merlin. He held it like a lance and ran at Merlin’s ice block.

Mordred held out one hand and a rush of air propelled Snape backwards. Back he flew, striking the far ice wall with his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He slid down to the cavern floor, still holding the staff.

Dumbledore stepped closer to the barrier. “Please… Mordred, let us take him away. We will not let him come here again,” Dumbledore pleaded.

Mordred looked at Dumbledore and said, “You do not see into his mind as I do. He will never stop trying.”

Mordred’s eyes looked down into Hermione’s, a strange moment of recognition passing between them. Then he looked back at Dumbledore. “He will not leave this place.”

Albus knew there was nothing more he could do for Severus Snape. There was finality in Mordred’s words and Dumbledore did not have the kind of power it would take to effect any change.

When Mordred turned towards Snape and began walking, Dumbledore and Hermione glanced anxiously at one another. What would Mordred do to him?

Snape had stood up again and was pointing the staff at Mordred. “Get back,” Snape shouted. Snape quickly took the staff like a javelin and hurled it through the air towards Merlin. The staff struck the ice at knee level and caused the ice to begin cracking.

Mordred closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, an unnatural sound of rushing wind, and turned fully towards the cracking block of ice, blowing what seemed like an icy hurricane from his mouth.

Hermione turned her face into Dumbledore’s arm as the chilling blast hit full force. Albus twisted his body over her and drew his robes around them; any exposed skin on her body was burning with the sensation of ice quickly freezing. Nothing could be seen around them but a white swirling storm. She shook with fear and cold, pressing herself against Bugger and Dumbledore.

When the air cleared, they carefully looked towards Merlin. He was completely encased in his ice prison once more, his eyes frozen wide in anger. Then Hermione gasped.

Looking across the room, they saw that Snape was now frozen in his own prison of ice. Hermione combed the ice from her hair and took a step towards Professor Snape. Was he still alive, like Merlin? She looked at Mordred, who picked up the staff and stuck it standing on floor of the cavern once more. The ice closed around the bottom of the staff, grabbing it like greedy fingers.

Dumbledore came up behind Hermione and put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. She turned her face towards his and they shared a look of grief for Snape’s demise. Bugger shook the ice crystals off his head and hid behind Hermione’s legs, peeking around them and looking wide-eyed at Mordred. Now what was to happen?

Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes when Mordred turned his attention to her and looked at her carefully. Where had Draco’s soul gone during all this? Did she lose him forever? She took a few more steps towards him in despair.

“Please… Mordred, please give Draco back to me. I need him,” she pleaded. She bravely approached, staring deep into his eyes. “Please…”

Mordred gazed on her face and lifted his hand, softly running his fingers down one of her cheeks, spreading her tears with his fingertips. “Marlston…” he whispered.

He smiled softly at her, with a hint of mischief. Then Mordred collapsed on the ground.

Hermione gasped and knelt down next to Draco’s body as Mordred’s essence left Draco’s opened lips. She watched as the cloud hovered momentarily above and then left as swiftly as it had come.

Hermione placed her hands on Draco’s cheeks and cried, “He’s so cold!”

Dumbledore had knelt on Draco’s other side and now held his wrist. “He’s still alive. We need to get him somewhere warm.”

“Bugger, quickly, run back to the Amazon’s camp. Make the biggest fire you can. We’ll bring Draco,” Hermione ordered.

“Yes, Mistress,” Bugger replied, running quickly to the stairs.

Dumbledore walked up to Snape’s frozen form in the ice block and shook his head sadly while Hermione used her wand to levitate Draco’s body. “Farewell, Severus,” he whispered sadly. Then he looked down and saw something shiny on the ice next to Snape’s prison. He bent and picked it up.

“Miss Granger, I believe you’ll be wanting this back,” Dumbledore stated, handing over the key to Marlston.

OOOOOOOO

Ron slowly circled the area of destruction, looking for any sign of Harry or Voldemort. He wondered why there was no more lightning, no more trees or fireballs being flung about. In his heart he knew it meant only one thing. One of them had won, and by the Gods, it had better be Harry. Some of the fires were still burning, and he hovered above on his broom, looking for any movement and listening for any sound. Then he heard a voice in the distance.

“Die, die, die, you bastard!”

Harry! Ron knew that voice. But what was happening?

Ron flew towards the sound carefully, trying to keep out of view, his wand out. He lowered himself between two large tree branches and moved the leaves aside to have a look.

Ron opened his eyes wide, surprised when he saw Harry straddling Voldemort, punching him over and over in the face. Voldemort was not even moving. What the hell? Ron came swiftly to the ground and hopped off his broom. Why was Harry fighting like a Muggle? And more strangely, why was Voldemort letting him?

He took some steps towards them, his wand out and pointed at Voldemort. As he neared, he could see that the evil wizard’s face had been beaten to a pulp. Ron almost felt pity for him – almost.

“Harry?” Ron interrupted.

Harry stopped his punches and twisted his head quickly. “Ron! What are you doing here?”

Ron’s eyes flicked down to Harry’s bloody hands and crazed face. Voldemort was no longer moving. “Is he dead?” Ron asked.

Harry was breathing hard from his exertions. How long had he been hitting Voldemort? He didn’t know. Time meant nothing at the moment. “I don’t know,” Harry replied. “I hope so.” He stood up and wiped the blood from his hands on the side of his pants. “How’s the battle going?”

Ron looked down at Voldemort’s body and swallowed. This was too fucking weird. Shouldn’t they be jumping for joy or something? But he didn’t feel joyous at all and he didn’t know why. “It’s over,” Ron replied. “We won.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, looking at the ground. “That’s ah… that’s great,” he said.

“I heard that punching things can be great therapy sometimes,” Ron stated, awkwardly.

Harry glanced quickly at Voldemort’s body and then began pacing a bit. “Ron, there’s something I need to tell you…”

Ron shook his head. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Harry. It’s obvious you had some anger to get out,” Ron replied.

“No, it’s not that,” Harry said. “Ron, I’ve lost my powers. And now I’ve got to hide somewhere. Merlin will be coming for me…”

Harry’s words hit Ron like a bludger to the head. Gods! Harry had snapped. He went mad! Ron watched Harry pacing and talking fast and knew he couldn’t listen to anymore of Harry’s ramblings about Merlin coming to get him. He walked over to Harry and grasped his shoulders, forcing Harry to stop pacing. “Harry, look at me,” Ron said, firmly. “Merlin is dead. He died over a thousand years ago. You’re just in shock, all right? Who wouldn’t be after all you went through tonight?”

Harry became angry, flinging Ron’s hands off his shoulders and pushing him backwards. Ron’s wand flew out of his hand at the impact. “I’m not mad! Damn it, Ron. You don’t know everything. Merlin is alive, he’s immortal. He’s under Marlston. Snape has set him free…”

Ron stood up, shaking his head. “You need some rest, Harry. Let’s go back to base camp. Madam Pomfrey can give you something…” But Ron stopped talking as he watched the dreaded changes coming over Harry.

“Yes!” Harry yelled, looking toward the sky. His body began to tremble and vibrate and he felt the power flowing through his spine and down into every nerve. “They stopped him!” He closed his eyes, savoring the pulsing energy in his body as it grew stronger and stronger.

When he opened his eyes again, his mouth fell open in horror. Ron was lying on the ground, holding his throat and struggling for air. “NO!” Harry shouted. “Ron!” He ran to Ron’s side, trying to figure out what was happening. That’s when he noticed Voldemort standing - his power had returned as well. His bloody face grinned at Harry maliciously and he quickly knocked Harry off his feet and onto the fallen tree before Harry could react.

Harry quickly got up, ready to strike, but Voldemort was no longer there. Fuck!

Then his heart fell and his stomach twisted in fear as he ran over to Ron’s body, looking for his life signs. “Ron, Ron,” Harry said, shaking him. “Oh, Gods!” Harry tore Ron’s shirt down the center and put his ear to Ron’s chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated, “Beat, beat, come on…” Ron had to live, he just had to!

Nothing… nothing was heard but Harry’s own ragged breaths.

Harry’s chest began heaving and heat coursed though his body. He sat up and cried aloud, “No, not Ron, not Ron!” Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he cried.

“There they are!” came a shout from behind Harry. Harry recognized that voice. Oh Gods! He put his face in his hands, weeping. He didn’t want to face Ron’s brothers. No, he couldn’t stand the pain of the Weasleys. His was already too much to bear.

Harry could hear the twigs snapping behind him as the Weasley twins landed and dismounted. Then came the inevitable gasps and sobs as they ran to Ron’s body. They lay their heads on Ron, just as Harry had done a moment ago, weeping.

“You idiot, Ron,” sobbed George. “Why’d you have to come here? Why?”

Fred lifted his red face and looked at Harry. “He got him, didn’t he? Voldemort got him.”

Harry could only nod. Voldemort!

A rush of anger flooded his senses, so forceful it pushed Harry to his feet. Harry lifted his head and let out a roar at the top of his lungs. The forest around him felt that anger and the branches on all the trees began to move violently.

Fred and George looked up at Harry in fear, holding on to Ron’s body. Harry was becoming his other self, except this time the other was more powerful, stronger, than it had ever been before – fueled by hatred, anger and the thirst for revenge. Harry’s skin darkened to deep reddish brown, his eyes completely black, and pulses of Dark energy encircled him like a shell.

Then Harry turned and grabbed Ron’s discarded broom on the ground, taking off at incredible speed. Voldemort could not apparate on Marlston land unless he made it to the Circle of Stones.

OOOOOO

But there were those who could apparate on Marlston land – those who held the key to Marlston in their hand.

OOOOOO

Voldemort had tried to use a concealing spell as he ran towards the Circle of Stones, but nothing could be concealed from the powerful Dark Lord flying above. Harry could see Voldemort hurrying along in the dark. Harry was like an eagle, hunting his prey from above. He swooped down in Voldemort’s path, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

Harry stood before the Circle of Stones, his power pulsing violently.

Voldemort yelled in frustration and said, “You think you are the only one, Potter?”

Voldemort took a deep breath, his bloody face pointed to the sky, as his appearance began to change. Focusing on his own anger, he transformed himself into a dark and frightening figure, like a horned devil of old, and then grinned maliciously, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. “Let’s finish this, shall we?” Voldemort snarled.

“It is time for you to die,” Harry announced.

Rumbling laughter came from Voldemort’s chest. “Any more of your pitiful friends coming to help you, Potter? No? You’re all alone now.”

“He is not alone,” a female voice said behind him. “By wind and fire, Earth and sea, we call upon the power of the Triad to smite our enemy,” Hermione chanted.

Voldemort turned around and gasped. Hermione stood with her arms up from her sides and twenty paces to the right of her stood Draco in the same position. He quickly realized that in the position they were all standing, he was in the dead center of the triangle between the three. “No!” he yelled, shocked. He turned to face Harry, but Harry now had his arms out to the sides as well.

Voldemort crackled a flaming ball in one hand and threw it towards Harry’s face, but the ball disappeared before it could hit Harry. Then he frantically turned to face Hermione and Draco, flinging curses at them to no avail. Nothing could penetrate the protective shield of the Triad.

Voldemort tried running, but a swift wind wrapped around him, pulling him back to the center of the triangle, twisting and turning him about, lifting him higher and higher into the air. The Triad stood, focusing on the center of the ground between them, muttering the words Hermione had said over and over.

The ground in the center creaked and groaned as it began to shake and rip apart, forming a gaping wound in the earth from which hot damp steam rose. A column of fire shot out of the pit, engulfing the floating and twisting body of Voldemort. They could hear the evil Wizard screaming as his clothing and then his skin burned, but they did not stop their chant.

The moment the life-force left Voldemort, they knew. He ceased screaming and a large ball of green light shot out from the top of the column of flame and became droplets of water that fell like rain. The flames slowly lowered, carrying the blackened body of Voldemort on top, taking him into the gaping crevasse below.

The Triad had ceased their chanting and watched as the ground closed over the hole, healing itself and appearing as if it had never been disturbed. The three of them stood there a moment longer, listening to the crickets beginning their nightly chorus. They looked at one another, Harry fading into his normal self once more, completely wiped out with exhaustion after all that had happened.

Hermione and Draco hurried over, flinging their arms about him and Harry held them in return, sobbing in joy that they had made it through alive. They covered Harry’s sooty face in kisses and Draco said, “Sorry we were late. There were a few… complications.”

“We’ll tell you everything later,” Hermione said, running her hands over Harry. “You’re all right? Any injuries?”

Harry dropped his arms to his side and looked down.

“Harry?” Hermione said, anxiety growing over Harry’s expression. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry swallowed and lifted sad eyes to Hermione’s face. “Ron…” he rasped. Then he shook his head as tears welled in his eyes once more.

Hermione froze, shocked. Then she began to shake her head mumbling, “No… no…” She flung her arms about Harry’s neck and released a loud sob onto his shoulder and Harry wept on hers in return. Draco put his arms around them both, rubbing their backs and trying to comfort them.

They stood for a long while, embracing, until loud popping sounds distracted them. “What the hell?” Harry said, lifting his face and looking around. Fireworks were shooting into the sky in all directions and they could hear music playing as well as shouts of victory.

“Good news travels fast,” Draco replied.

“I just can’t celebrate right now,” Hermione said, drying her eyes. “I just…”

“I know, love,” Draco replied, stroking her long hair down her back.

Harry took a step back and sighed heavily. “I need to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They deserve to know how it happened,” Harry said.

“My Lord,” a voice called. They turned to see Lucius Malfoy striding up to them. “Is it true? Voldemort is dead? Truly gone?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Harry replied.

Lucius smiled. “That is indeed good news. And Severus Snape? Does he live?” Lucius asked, directing his questions to Draco now.

“I truly don’t know, Father,” Draco replied. “But I don’t expect we’ll be seeing him again.”

“The Death Eaters?” Harry asked.

“The ones that survived are bound and awaiting your judgment, my Lord,” Lucius replied. “Shall I lead you to them?”

“Not yet. They can wait,” Harry replied. “I must find the Weasleys.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucius said. “I believe I saw them gathered near the village ruins.”

Harry nodded and looked at Hermione and Draco. “Do you want to come?” he asked.

Hermione nodded and took his hand. Draco took her other hand and they walked on towards the smoldering ruins of the village. How could everyone be celebrating? In her grief, she couldn’t fathom that people were just happy to be alive.

Merrymakers yelled at them from a distance, jumping and waving their arms. “Harry! You did it! You did it!”

“Keep them away from me and the Weasleys, Lucius,” Harry ordered.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius said, falling back to stand guard.

They approached the grieving family. Mrs. Weasley sat on the ground with Ron’s body on her lap. She was rocking back and forth and crying. The rest of the family stood around her and Ron, crying and embracing one another. Hermione walked straight up to Ginny and held her. Both girls wept in sorrow. Draco felt a bit out of place. He wasn’t exactly the Weasleys’ favorite person. He told Harry, “I’m going to talk to my Father a bit.”

Harry nodded.

Mr. Weasley turned around and noticed Harry. Harry wanted to die. Suddenly he felt like the whole damn thing was his fault. And maybe… it was.

“Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, sadly.

Harry shut his eyes, trying to fight back the tears that wanted to flow. “I... I… just wanted to… to say,” Harry started, but now all the Weasleys had turned their sad faces to him. Harry looked down at the ground, suddenly unable to speak. Why couldn’t he have saved Ron? Why? Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into Mr. Weasley’s face.

“We know, Harry, we know,” Mr. Weasley said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Harry?” Draco said from behind him. Harry had thought Draco had left.

“Yeah?” Harry replied.

“It’s Meri, she’s insisting on seeing you,” Draco replied, glancing at Mr. Weasley.

“Not now,” Harry said, shaking his head. She probably wanted to know about her son. But Harry didn’t want to talk about Voldemort now. That no longer mattered to him.

“I think… you better go to her, Harry,” Draco insisted. “You’re going to want to hear this.” Draco glanced at Mr. Weasley again and Harry felt a strange sensation pass next to him, an icy chill.

He shivered and nodded. “Excuse me,” he said to Mr. Weasley. He walked off with Draco towards the spot where Meri was standing with Lucius.

“Meri,” Harry said.

“My Lord,” she began, “I’m not here about Tom Riddle. I’m relieved that you have rid the world of him.”

Harry looked impatient. “What is this about then?”

“It’s about your friend, the red haired one,” she replied.

“Look, Meri, this is not a good time…” Harry said, not wanting to talk about his best friend with someone who didn’t even know him.

“He’s standing right there, my Lord,” Meri blurted out before Harry could turn away.

Harry looked in the direction she pointed and saw no one. “I don’t see anything,” Harry replied.

“I know, my Lord,” Meri nodded. “It’s my gift to see these things and I tell you that he’s standing right there, looking confused.”

“What? You mean his ghost or something?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“Yes, my Lord, it’s his soul,” Meri nodded. “You see, people don’t always know that they’ve died for awhile. Their spirits hang about a bit, you see, trying to accept what happened to them.”

Harry felt chills as something passed through his body. “All right, I believe you,” Harry said with a shiver, wondering if Ron wanted to haunt him because he didn’t kill Voldemort properly when they were in the woods. “But it’s not going to help that family over there, unless… Ron has some last words for them or something.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking of doing, my Lord,” Meri said, lowering her voice and looking about slyly. “I know a spell – it’s a very dark one, but as long as his body is intact and still warm with his life’s blood, we may be able to bring him back.”

Harry stared at her a few moments. Never had he heard of anything like this. “Are you talking about Inferi? You want to make Ron one of the walking dead?” Harry asked, a bit of anger in his voice.

Meri looked horrified. “Oh, no! Not that, my Lord. He would be restored, alive and as he always was.”

Harry looked at Draco, who said, “It’s worth a try, Harry. What’s the worst thing that could happen that hasn’t already occurred?”

Harry turned towards Ron’s family and ran a hand through his hair, puffing a big breath. Facing Meri again, he said, “You said it’s very Dark Magic. What do we have to do?”

“We need to give his body the Spark of Life, before his soul can rejoin with it,” Meri replied.

“The Spark of Life? Where do we get the Spark of Life?” Harry asked.

“We must take one, from someone who is living,” Meri replied, looking at Harry carefully.

Harry looked at her a few moments. “Kill someone? To bring Ron back I have to kill someone?” Harry asked, incredulously. “What exactly do you expect me to do, Meri? Ask one of his brothers to sacrifice himself in order to bring Ron back?”

“My Lord,” Lucius interrupted, “if I may make a suggestion. We do have prisoners of war. Choose one of them to execute. I’m certain you can find a slew of crimes they have committed to justify it.”

“A Death Eater?” Harry pondered, walking away a few paces before turning back to Meri, his mind racing. “Would Ron retain any memories or traits of the Death Eater used for this?”

“No, my Lord,” Meri shook her head. “We are only taking the Spark of Life, not the soul.” When Harry stood considering this, she added, “We must hurry, my Lord. The body loses its warmth with each passing minute.”

“What else do we need?” Harry asked.

“A quiet place - where we won’t be disturbed. We can use the woodsman’s cabin. It’s very near and not burnt by the fire,” she suggested.

Harry looked at the Weasleys. How was he supposed to tell them about this? Would they care that it was Dark Magic that could bring Ron back? Would they protest the taking of another person’s life, even a Death Eater’s?

Draco could see the dilemma on Harry’s face. He put his hand on Harry’s arm and said, “Give them the choice, Harry.”

“They must decide quickly, my Lord,” Meri reminded. “I can keep his spirit here awhile, but the body… it must be warm.”

“Prepare the cabin, Meri,” Harry decided. “I’m going to speak with Ron’s family.”

“Shall I choose one of the prisoners, my Lord?” Lucius asked, a bit too anxiously.

“No, Lucius,” Harry replied. “I want to do that. I know just the one.”

OOOOOOOO


A/N I realize that some people were hoping that Merlin would get out and cause some trouble, but I had to keep the main goal of this story in mind and that was to end the life of Voldemort and have Harry be the one and only Dark Lord of the Dark Wizards. Merlin served as a threat to that goal being accomplished, but I didn’t want to make the story all about him.

I realized that I’ve left the door open for a sequel of some sort as Snape is frozen down there with Merlin and one can easily see the potential for another plotline to emerge. However, as I’ve said before, I have no plans to make a sequel to WAWN of that magnitude. Therefore, for anyone who feels inspired along this line, I’d be willing to communicate with anyone who would like to do a sequel to WAWN. I do have a few requirements if someone wishes to take that on. The most basic ones would be: the Triad could not be split up (at least not permanently), the mysteries established about Marlston should remain, but can be added to. Please write to me if you’d be interested in taking on this project.

I will be doing some future snippets of the Triad, but no more 62 chapter stories.

Well, the next chapter will be the last and will probably be a long one as I have so much to get into it. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. Thank you for all your kind words and reviews. Please keep them coming. ~Petalsoft