Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 27

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Voldemort's magic gave out with him. Snape's dark mark was not the only spell to undo itself; Hermione's prison dissolved as well. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled numbly across the distance to where Harry lay, although by the time she made it he had already slumped to the floor. Snape moved away as she reached for him.

He was battered, badly, the closer she looked, but still breathing.

"Is he?" she asked softly, gazing up at Snape.

He looked closely at her for moment and then did not bother to misconstrue her words. "Alive? Yes. A squib? More than likely. It may not necessarily be permanent, however. There is a small possibility his own magic might recover; if it does not I have been working on a process to reignite the core of those who suffer magical...accidents, for some years now; he would be a perfect candidate for the procedure if he survives his injuries."

"That was no accident," Hermione said, her eyes returning to Harry and watching each shuddering rise and fall of his chest. "You lied to Voldemort, and gambled that the magic draining potion would destroy the horcruxes. You used him."

"Would you have preferred I not?" Snape asked bitingly. "Grow up. I am going up to see what is left of Hogwarts. I trust I can leave you to it."

Already raw, his words felt like acid against her skin. She said nothing, more anxious by nature to attempt to right the tilting axis than fight it. She heard him go.

She wished that she could ask him to enervate Ron so that she could remain by Harry, but knew as well that the last thing Ron needed to see now was Snape. She needed Ron to help her; she knew they needed to get Harry to Madam Pomfrey, assuming the Hospital Wing remained somewhat intact.

Awakened, Ron seemed thankfully to have no immediate memory of events just prior to being stupefied; all he wanted to know was the result. His eyes glued themselves to Hermione's face and the first thing he asked was "Harry?"

"Alive," she told him. "I need you to help me get him to the Hospital Wing."

"Voldemort?" was his next question as he scrambled, swaying slightly to his feet.

"Gone," she said, barely believing the words even as she spoke them. "Dead. Harry killed him."

Ron's unsteadiness abruptly fled. "But the horcruxes, the scar one and the others..."

"Voldemort tried to reclaim them by draining Harry's magic. It destroyed them."

They'd reached Harry now and he was still unconscious. Hermione saw Ron wince when he took in his condition as he dropped to his knees before his friend. She crouched down beside him and laid her hand gently against Harry's cheek; there was not even the slightest flinch although it was badly bruised. Only moving her fingers to his chest convinced her he was still breathing, still trying.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what kind of spell..."

"They took his magic, Ron. It wasn't a spell. He fought Voldemort without magic, and he killed him. Look."

She pointed to where the body lay; the broken end of the Basilisk fang just barely protruding from one eye socket in the ruined face.

Ron's face paled and he swallowed. "Sweet bleeding Merlin, Hermione," he said; his voice starting out as little more than a whisper but building as his brain finally processed what his eyes told him. "He did that? He did it! He killed Voldemort, that's bloody Voldemort, and he's dead! Harry did that? Bloody hell!"