1

The Debt

Poppy Pomfrey entered the make-shift personal quarters of Minerva McGonagall looking for her old colleague. She found her sitting in one of the guest chairs, an amber drink in her hand. Her gray hair fell to her back in disarray, no longer in the stern bun it always was. If it were any other time Poppy would have been concerned but now, when it felt like only cold blood ran through her numb body, she took this as another sign of the end.

"Miss Granger is dead," Poppy announced to the bent back and sat down next to Minerva, looking unseeingly at the worn wall opposite just as her friend was.

"Smart girl, she tricked me and went off her potions..."

"It is not surprising!" Minerva spoke with a calm voice, as it always was. Somehow believing if only she did not show her despair she could save others from their own fear. "After all, Harry and she married to have something to live for...after young Mr. Weasley and Miss Weasley were killed and now..."

"Now that her husband has fallen as well...she did not have the strength to go on. Even though she loved young Mr. Weasley, she was devoted to Mr. Potter..." Poppy continued for her friend.

"And Mr. Potter was devoted to her...such special children they all were. I was surprised when they married so soon after young Ronald died. But I understand what it's like to feel alone and desperate. Strange that Harry came to me for blessing. Poppy, Hermione was not with child?" Minerva suddenly asked worried. In the last war such a tragedy had befallen young couples on the side of the light. She still remembered grieving for one of her young lions who had lost his wife and unborn child at the hands of Deatheaters.

"No...I don't think they were ever intimate." Poppy shrugged putting her elbows on her knees and cradling her chin in her hand.

"They were married for near half a year!" Minerva protested feeling silly that she was concerned about this. Poppy nodded a sad smile on her face.

"I think, Minerva, it is like you said: they needed each other to hold on to after they lost young Ronald and Ginevra. That is why they married...perhaps the other marital relations were simply not as important," Poppy explained. "That dear boy had the world on his shoulders and this once he could not do it. What will become of us Minerva? We've been run out of Hogwarts! It won't be long before we are found!"

Minerva McGonagall wiped her face with her free hand and blinked a few times trying to get the weariness out of her eyes. She wanted to answer her friend truthfully but the secret she held was so dark and so damming she could not condemn her as she had been condemned.

The week of disbelief and pain that had passed since Harry Potter's death was compounded twice by her old mentor calling in her many debts to him. Mentally she cursed the portrait that had appeared in her chambers and inside she screamed at the injustice. Poppy saw the flickering emotions on her friend's face and put it down to the strong woman finally losing her fortitude. She reached and squeezed her hand in a show of companionship and compassion. Minerva sighed and finally spoke to her friend.

"I'm afraid Poppy that here we will have to go separate ways. I have to perform one final duty and you can not be part of it," she informed her with as much authority she could summon. The nurse regarded her friend a long moment then scowled.

"If I didn't know better Minerva McGonagall I would say you are about to attempt something suicidal..." Poppy retorted angrily. She saw Minerva's eyes widen for a flicker of a moment before she marshaled herself.

"No Poppy...it is much worse than that...far more blasphemous!" Minerva spoke with a shudder and resignation.

"What do you mean to do Minerva?" Poppy Pomfrey asked alarmed.

"I mean to commit a sin...on the twenty-fourth, thirtieth and thirty-third hour..." she spoke barely above a whisper.

"I don't know what that means Minerva, what?" Poppy could not continue for Minerva had clenched her arm in a vise-like grip. Her gray eyes shone with fear and bored into the nurse.

"Do not ask me Poppy! I give you my word the only reason I am not telling you is to save you! Please do not ask me again!" Minerva released her friend and drank from her glass deeply. Poppy sat with Minerva for a half hour in silence after which she came to a decision. She stood abruptly.

"Will I see you again Minerva?" she asked simply. Minerva shook her head.

"Not in this life time Poppy, perhaps never. Go Poppy..." Minerva told her hoarsely. "Miss Granger's body?"

"Has been taken care of, same as all the order members have requested. There is no body...she will not rise again as an inferi!" Poppy said with feeling.

"Brave child!" Minerva muttered. Poppy squeezed her friend's thin old shoulder and left turning back in the door once. She wished her good luck under her breath and left never to return.

In the ill lit room a figure could be seen moving in a tall portrait. He was dressed in voluminous robes with half moon glasses perched on his crooked nose. He looked out into the living world and saw his colleague and confidant from his life stooped and crying. A tear crawled down his cheek and into his beard.

"There is not much time Minerva," he spoke gently with apology. The proud weeping woman glared at him, her eyes more baleful for her tears.

"Was it not enough Albus? Was our service to this world not enough for you?" she shrieked. "You have betrayed me Dumbledore and you have betrayed that boy...you have betrayed those who were most loyal to you, curse you!" Her voice shook.

"The book, Minerva. Remember you must not heal his body!" Dumbledore spoke his head bowed. Minerva made a disparaging sound and stood swiping the ancient tome and the time turner sitting on it. For a moment, in the dying embers, the title of the open chapter flashed: Unholy Knowledge.

Diagon Alley, A week prior to Hermione Granger's death

Gray clouds swirled above in a strange frenzy that could only have been caused by magic. Harry marveled at their twisting and fluxing, and ignored the malevolent face and words of his enemy who stood above him in victory. Rain began falling pitter-patter and he smiled at it. Ever since he had been a child he loved the rain, imagining it was God blessing him, letting him know he was not alone and unseen.

Now that he lay broken and torn having lost against his enemy he felt hope and happiness; that finally he would be with his parents and those friends who had passed before him. First time since he had last sat before the mirror of Erised he gave in to his longing and desire to be held by family, he let the pain fill him knowing he was moments away from being relieved of it.

"And so Harry Potter, now they all stand and witness the lie that you are, the failure you are. What fools are these who believed in you?" Lord Voldemort spoke in a whisper his voice rippling magically in the fear stricken Diagon Alley, where the common wizards and witches cowered.

They had witnessed their 'chosen' one's annihilation. They had seen how his arms and legs were burned and cursed away. They had seen their worst fear reduce their reluctant hero to a stump. The swirling skies above and the rain were as much an evil omen for them as they were a sign of deliverance for their hero.

"I didn't fail...I get to die, and these wretches are yours to rule, I don't envy you!" Harry rasped out showing his bloodied teeth in an irreverent smile. Voldemort regarded him tilting his head to the side and laughed a full laugh.

"Ah! How utterly futile! You finally realize the truth when you are a breath away from death!" Voldemort spoke now only to him. The boy below him was going in and out of consciousness but he knew he heard him. The boy's mind was open to Voldemort; he even enjoyed how he looked through the boy's eyes.

"Dying wish! Will you give it to me?" Harry suddenly asked his eyes blazing and Voldemort wondered if the boy had any fight left in him. Voldemort did not ask but delved in his mind finding a face and what the boy imagined he wanted done to him.

"My dear Harry! If you only had asked when you had a leg to stand on, I would have enjoyed seeing you embrace the dark. Your imagination is quite wicked...I will grant you this wish, now off to the next great adventure!" Voldemort mocked and waved his wand transfiguring a great black snake out of the earth.

The snake cradled the broken stump in its coil raising it off the ground to show it to the witnesses. Then with blinding speed sank its fangs in the boy's heart. No sound escaped the young wizard, his body twitched for a few long seconds then stilled. The snake disappeared into the earth returning to dust. The dead hero was left on the ground for all to see.

"To Hogwarts. Oh! And Severus..." Voldemort's voice suddenly turned sibilant and he locked his unnatural eyes with his servant's. Snape fell to his knees with a blood curdling scream, his eyes bleeding and shriveling in their sockets. Voldemort shredded his spy's mind, leaving him in a place of perpetual nightmares. "You see Potter, I am benevolent. I have granted your last wish!" With these words to the dead young wizard he rose into the sky and disappeared in the darkness as if he were a thunder cloud hurtling over the earth.

His servants stared at their screaming comrade and thanked whatever deity they prayed to that they had not been Harry Potter's last wish of revenge. The spy could be found screaming and dragging his head on the ground, blood leaking from empty sockets. Their master's victory had been absolute and his control over them, his servants, was absolute.