Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling

Chapter Thirty Eight: End Game

She brought him in with the portkey that Ron had supplied. Lupin lay there in werewolf form, his chest rising and falling in short, gasping breaths, as he struggled to stay alive.

Ron and Sirius followed, worry showing all over their faces. Ron quickly levitated Lupin onto one of the beds. Tonks was crying softly as she watched her lover lying there, unable to move for lack of strength.

Madame Pomfrey quickly came over to the bed where Ron had just deposited Lupin, and she started a quick examination of his wounds. She was clucking to herself, and it was driving Tonks mad.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is he going to make it?" She was getting desperate. "Can you help him?"

"Dora," whispered Sirius.

She looked at him with daggers in her eyes. Then she broke down, throwing herself into his arms. He patted her on the back gently, and then simply held her as she sobbed.

He held her like that for a very long time while Madame Pomfrey tended to Lupin. Finally, she was done, and he gently lifted Tonks' chin and pointed over to Madam Pomfrey.

Tonks looked at the older witch, her unasked question in her eyes.

"He should survive, but there will probably be permanent damage. Silver does very bad things to werewolves, especially when they are in animal form. He has been exposed multiple times. The worst of the lot is the one on the back. The others should simply be cosmetic, causing more scarring along the side of the face, the chest, and the hip. The back wound looks like it might have done some real damage, however."

"What's your prognosis," Tonks asked, switching to 'Professional' mode.

"Well, I would say that there is a high likelihood of some amount of paralysis, probably permanent. Since the wound is in the vicinity of the spinal column, I think the likelihood is around eighty-five to ninety percent. Otherwise, since the fight didn't kill him outright, he should make a complete recovery, other than that particular wound, that is."

"Tonks nodded. "So he'll survive?"

"Well, there is a danger zone of tonight, I would say, but once he makes it through the night, I would say that he'll be out of mortal danger."

"And what are his odds of surviving the night?" Sirius piped in from the foot of the bed.

"I'd estimate his odds of about seventy-five percent."

"Then we wait," Sirius said.


Ron once again sat at Hermione's side. He held her hand and gazed down at her face. How he wished she would wake up. His whole world was crumbling around him. Hermione was still unconscious, Harry and Ginny were off, probably getting themselves killed by Voldemort, Lupin was critically injured, Dumbledore and Moody were dead, and if Harry failed, everything was for naught. If only Hermione would wake up.

He sighed to himself, and settled down for another long vigil at Hermione's side.


They were just outside the final chamber now. Just a few more feet and then the end would come. Harry could feel his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. In all the years that he had been at Hogwarts, in all the times that he had faced Voldemort before, this was the worst. This time it was for all the marbles. It was him or Voldemort. Only one would walk away, and he so desperately prayed it would be him. He didn't want to leave Ginny to Voldemort's gentle ministrations.

Ginny knew all this as well, as she could see into his head as easily as he could see into hers. She reached up and stroked his cheeks. "Just stick to the plan, Harry. It'll work, it has too."

"I know it will, Gin. I'm just scared out of my mind, you know?"

"I know, Harry, I'm scared too."

"The hardest part falls to you, Ginny."

"Not really, Harry, I don't actually have to face him."

"But you have to facilitate the final attack."

"But you have to supply the blow."

"We've got it hard, don't we Gin?"

"Yeah Harry, we do. Shall we do this?"

"It's time. It ends now."

They gripped hands tightly, and stepped into the chamber, taking in the view of the roughly hewn chamber, noting that there was nothing of any significance here except the pale white wizard standing in the center of it, clutching his head, whining piteously.


Ron looked up suddenly as his sister's voice suddenly popped into his head. "Attention everyone, attention. I am Ginerva Potter, and I need your help in the struggle against the Dark Lord. Harry is now facing Voldemort for the final showdown. We need your help in this if he is to win. What we need is for each of you to concentrate as hard as you can on one thing. Concentrate on the one person that you love the most in this world, the one person that you would die for if necessary. Think of the love that you have for this person, and the feelings that that person brings out in you. Continued concentration on that will allow some little bit of your power to flow through to me. I, being en rapport with Harry will channel it to him. He will use your power of love to utterly destroy Voldemort. Are you with us?"

Ron let out a resounding "YES!" but it didn't seem to startle anyone, for everyone else was shouting the same thing.

"Very good, begin now!"


Harry walked calmly towards his foe. He no longer felt the paralyzing fear he had felt just moments before. He only knew that he had to end this, once and for all. He had to stop this monster from ever hurting anyone again.

Voldemort looked up at and saw Harry approaching. He smiled that evil smile of his. "So, the boy thinks he's a man, does he?"

"I'm man enough for the likes of you," said Harry softly, a dark edge to his voice.

"Then we shall just have to see who the better man really is. Crucio!"

Harry dodged the spell easily. "You'll have to do better than that, mate," he taunted.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled. The green beam struck Harry dead in the chest. A brilliant green light burst through the chamber. Voldemort turned to Ginny, "Now, little girl, it's your turn."

"I don't think so," came Harry's voice.

"What? How?" Voldemort whirled around to see Harry there, unfazed. "Avada Kedavra!" he screamed. The green bolt passed right through Harry, as if he were made of shadows. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around just as Harry's fist connected with his chin. His head snapped back, and when he righted himself Harry caught him by the throat.

They stood there for a moment, locked in mortal combat. Voldemort drew back his wand, a curse upon his lips. Harry threw his head back as if to laugh. "Now Gin!" he yelled.

It all came flooding through him, all the love of all the wizards that Ginny could reach. All the feelings of love and affection came pouring through him, and through his hands into Voldemort.

The curse died there on Voldemort's lips as he started to experience what was happening. He tried to scream but couldn't. He tried to loosen himself from Harry's grip but couldn't. He tried to disapparate, but that was blocked as well.

He started to smoke, and then he erupted in flames, the power of love surging through him. He was locked there with no escape, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

He cast his mind about, searching desperately for a counter spell, but there was none, for this was primal magic at its most powerful. He could not combat it, and in the moment of his realizing it, it was his end. He vaporized completely and utterly, even his spirit was destroyed by the utterly irresistible power of love.

As he was consumed, Harry pitched forward, slamming into the ground, his eyes blank and unseeing.

Author's Note: For those of you wondering, Harry still has the power as the Lord of Shadows. It isn't what defeats Moldie Voldie, but it does help him get there.