mirrorball

chapter thirty one

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Harry remained kneeling at Snape's side, simply staring down at him, until quite suddenly a high, cold voice spoke so close to them that Harry jumped on his feet, the flask gripped tightly in his hands. Voldemort's voice reverberated from the walls and floor, and Clara realized that he was talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured." Clara winced at the hiss of Voldemort's voice tickling the inside of her ears. It was an experience she never imagined herself going through, and the sound was worse than nails on a chalkboard. "I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you." continued Voldemort's voice, "You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

"Don't listen to him," said Ron.

"It'll be all right," said Hermione wildly. "Let's—let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan— "She glanced at Snape's body, then hurried back to the tunnel entrance. Ron followed her. Harry gathered up the Invisibility Cloak, then looked down at Snape. Clara stood and watched him in silence.

He met her eyes. With one glance everything was clear. She would beg him to stay away from Voldemort. She had to. He knew that. 

But he wouldn't listen to her. He would want to, but his desire to spare everyone else, the guilt of those already lost, the pain of losing more... it was too much. He was going to go. He had to. She knew that. 

"Come on," said Clara, extending her hand. "Let's not keep them waiting."

They crawled back through the tunnel, neither of them talking. They stepped out into the dark night. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch black. The three of them hurried toward the stone steps. The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

"Where is everyone?" whispered Hermione. Ron led the way to the Great Hall. Harry stopped in the doorway and Clara halted at his side. The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to stand. The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. 

Clara could not see Fred's body, because his family surrounded him. George was kneeling at his head; Mrs. Weasley was lying across Fred's chest, her body shaking. Mr. Weasley stroking her hair while tears cascaded down his cheeks. Without a word to Harry or Clara, Ron and Hermione walked away. Clara saw Hermione approach Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy, and hug her. Ron joined Bill, Fleur, and Percy, who flung an arm around Ron's shoulders. As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the rest of the family, Clara had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Fred. And there was Remus; pale, still and peaceful looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling. A tear rolled down Clara's cheek and she wiped it away quickly, trying her best to maintain her composure. 

She turned to see Harry staring at her with hollow eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. Before she could even ask him what he meant, Harry turned and ran out of the Great Hall.

Clara stole one glance back at Hermione and Ron, still mourning with the rest of the Weasley's, and then bolted after him. She could not see Harry, but his voice rang through the hall as he shouted: "Password? Dumbledore!"

She arrived at the base of Dumbledore's office too late. She was blocked by the statue that guarded the staircase to her destination. "Dumbledore!" she said, grateful that Harry had already shouted the password. Her appreciation soon dwindled as the statue remained in its position. What the hell? She shouted out again and was met with silence once more. 

Seriously unhappy now, Clara slid down the wall and sat on the floor. She resolved that waiting for Harry was better than assuming she would find him elsewhere. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand. Even though the Death Eaters and others on Voldemort's side were supposed to be called off, she didn't want to be caught off guard. 

Twenty minutes later the creaking of the staircase sounded and Clara rose to her feet. Harry walked out of the space, looking dreadful. He stepped back when he saw Clara and a look of surprise flashed across his face. 

"What are you doing here, Clara?"

"You didn't think I'd just let you run off without me, did you?"

"I've got to go," said Harry, with a slight quiver in his voice. He started off, but was quickly stopped by Clara, who grabbed his hand tightly.

"I hope you don't mean you're going to the forest."

"Clara..." he said. The two stared at each other in silence. Harry put his arms around her and embraced Clara tighter than she had ever been held before. "I have to."

"No you don't." she whispered. Her eyes were threatening to spill rivers at any moment. "Please, Harry. We can find another way."

"This is the only way," he whispered back. "You're the smartest person I know, Clara. Surely you understand that this is the only way to win this." Clara nodded, though she wanted to scream that he was wrong. "I can't let him take away everyone I love and just let you all protect me. This is my battle and I'm not risking anymore lives. I have to fix this myself. Don't-" said Harry as Clara opened her mouth in protest. "argue with me right now, okay? If something were to happen to Ron or Hermione..." He paused and pulled his body back from their embrace. "If something were to happen to you, Clara... I would hate myself for the rest of my life. So just, stay here and let me handle this. Let me fix this so that we can spend the rest of our lives together in peace."

With those words echoing in her head, Clara burst into tears. Harry pulled Clara back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. Her sobs rang through the hallway, with no one but Harry close enough to hear them. He let out a shaky sigh and his voice evoked even more sadness inside of her. How was she going to live with herself if this was the last time she ever heard his voice? "Everything's going to be fine. You'll be okay." Harry pulled back and kissed Clara softly on the lips. "It'll be okay."

"Harry," said Clara. Her heat was swelling and beating like crazy. It was orchestrating symphonies of pain, love, despair, and honesty. Clara didn't know if it was adrenaline, fear, or some other crazy emotion taking over her, but she knew that underneath the whirlwind of it all, there was one thought that bubbled up to the surface. It was something that had always been fighting to get out, but until she'd wasted so much energy fighting back at it. She took a deep breath. "I need you to know that I-"

"Don't," said Harry. Clara met his eyes, which were brimming with tears. Another sob left Clara's mouth. "Please don't tell me you love me. Not right now. I won't be able to leave if you do."

Clara opened her mouth and quickly closed it again. Her throat was dry with feelings she was finally ready to expose, and was now being asked to hold onto. She nodded as streams continued to run down her cheeks. Harry pulled her into another hug and kissed her cheek.

"Stay safe, okay?"

Clara nodded and held him tight as she said her final goodbye. "If you die, I will kill you."

Harry smiled and placed one last kiss on Clara's lips. "Goodbye, Clara."

"Goodbye, Harry."

And then he was gone. Clara took her place on the floor again and stared at the empty hall in front of her.