Bathilda looked directly at them. Tears were streaming down her weathered face. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion and terror, she said a single word.
"Voldemort."
The world seemed to stop. Harry and Daphne stared at her in horror, the implications crashing over them like a wave.
Before they could react, Bathilda's body exploded.
Not magically, but literally. Her form burst apart into blood and gore. Her flesh ripped apart, bones flying in all directions. Blood splashed against Harry and Daphne, and too stunned to react, they bore the brunt of the explosion, falling over in a bloodied heap.
"Fuck!" Harry cursed as he furiously swiped his face to clear his vision, and his eyes bugged out when he saw it.
From beneath the destroyed flesh and blood of the old woman who lived no more, something else began to take shape. Something massive and serpentine.
At the same moment, the air around them filled with the sharp cracks of multiple apparitions. The sound came from outside, from the street, and from the garden. Dozens of them, maybe more.
They knew what it meant. The taboo on Voldemort's name had been triggered. His Death Eaters had arrived.
Harry spat blood, Bathilda's blood, and grabbed Daphne's arm, yanking her toward him. "We have to go! Now!"
But before they could apparate, the thing that had emerged from Bathilda's destroyed corpse struck. A massive snake, easily twelve feet long and thick as a man's thigh, launched itself at Harry with horrifying speed.
Harry felt a sharp pain lance through his scar, but it was massively tempered. As a result, he managed to somehow get a shield up in time.
The snake's fangs scraped against the magical barrier with a sound like nails on glass. Daphne had her wand out now, firing a cutting curse that sliced across the snake's scales but didn't seem to slow it down.
"Nagini!" Harry shouted. "It's his snake! This whole thing was a trap!"
The front door burst open. Death Eaters poured through, their wands raised. The windows shattered as more came through them. The house was surrounded, the trap sprung.
Harry didn't hesitate.
His wand moved in a vicious arc and the head of the Death Eater who was the closest exploded in a spray of blood and bone. The headless corpse toppled backward into two others behind him, all three crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and gore.
Daphne spun, her wand a blur. A cutting curse severed another Death Eater's wand arm at the elbow. He screamed, blood shooting from the stump like a fountain. Her follow up curse caught him in the throat, silencing him forever as he gurgled and collapsed.
"Back to back!" Harry shouted over the chaos.
They moved together instantly, their backs pressed against each other and their wands moving in synchronized deadly arcs. The small room became a slaughterhouse.
Nagini struck again, her massive body coiling and lunging with terrifying speed. Harry conjured a wall of fire between them and the snake, buying precious seconds. The serpent hissed in rage, her forked tongue tasting the heat.
Three more Death Eaters came through the shattered windows. Harry's curse caught the first one mid leap, his body freezing in mid-air before shattering like glass. Razor sharp fragments flew everywhere, embedding in walls and flesh alike. The second screamed as shards tore through his face and throat.
The third managed to cast, his spell a sickly green killing curse that Harry barely dodged. It struck the wall behind him, blowing a hole through the ancient stone.
Daphne's retaliation was immediate and brutal. Her bone breaking curse hit the Death Eater in the chest, and the sharp crack of ribs shattering was audible even over the din of battle. He doubled over, wheezing, and her second curse took his head clean off his shoulders.
Blood was everywhere now. On the walls, on the floor, and dripping from the ceiling. The air reeked of it, copper and iron mixing with the acrid smell of burning wood and magic.
More kept coming.
Harry lost count of how many. Eight? Ten? They poured through every entrance, their masks gleaming in the firelight, their robes swirling. Anonymous killers, faceless murderers, all eager to capture or kill the Boy Who Lived.
They would all die instead.
Harry's magic surged through him, wild and violent. He felt Daphne's back against his, felt the way she moved and anticipated her attacks. They fought as one, covering each other's blind spots, their wands never stopping.
A Death Eater got close, too close, his wand raised for a killing blow at Daphne's head. Harry twisted, his curse hitting the man in the side. The Death Eater's torso imploded, his ribs caving inward, and his organs crushed to pulp. He dropped like a puppet with cut strings.
"Thanks!" Daphne gasped.
"Always!"
She repaid the favor seconds later when another Death Eater appeared behind Harry. Her slicing curse opened him from shoulder to hip, his guts spilling out in a steaming mess. He tried to scream but blood filled his mouth, choking him as he fell.
Nagini finally broke through the fire wall, her scales smoking but otherwise unharmed. She lunged at Harry again, her mouth opening impossibly wide to reveal fangs the length of daggers.
Harry's blasting curse caught her in the side, sending her massive body crashing into three Death Eaters. They went down in a screaming tangle, Nagini's thrashing coils crushing their bones and snapping their spines.
"We can't keep this up!" Daphne shouted. Her face was splattered with blood, her hair plastered to her head with gore and sweat. "There's too many!"
Harry knew she was right. They'd killed at least a dozen but more kept coming, and each second they stayed was another second closer to death. They needed to leave, needed to get past the anti-apparition wards that surely surrounded the property.
But Nagini was between them and the door, and the Death Eaters were closing in from all sides.
A curse grazed Harry's shoulder, burning through his cloak and into his flesh. He hissed in pain but kept moving, his return fire taking down two more attackers. One clutched at his throat as blood poured between his fingers, drowning in his own blood. The other simply collapsed, his brain liquified by Harry's curse.
Suddenly, Daphne screamed.
Harry spun to see a Death Eater had grabbed her from behind, one arm around her throat and his wand pressed to her temple. Blood poured from a gash on her forehead where she'd been struck.
"Drop your wand, Potter!" the Death Eater snarled. "Drop it or she dies!"
Harry felt as if time had slowed down for him. His eyes, wide with fear and rage, remained trained on the Death Eater. He could hear the thunderous pounding of his heart, feel the rush of blood through his veins, and see the fog of hot air leaving his nostrils in vivid detail.
His response was instantaneous, the Death Eater not even registering his piercing curse as it went through his skull and out the other side, painting the wall behind him with brain matter. The man's grip on Daphne went slack, his body toppling backward.
Daphne stumbled forward, coughing, her hand going to her throat. Harry caught her, steadying her, his eyes scanning her from top to bottom, frantically checking to make sure she was safe. Once he deemed her safe, he began to mechanically scan for the next threat.
It came from above.
The ceiling exploded in a shower of wood and plaster. Three more Death Eaters dropped through, their wands already moving. Harry and Daphne threw themselves aside as curses tore through the space they'd just occupied.
Harry rolled, came up on one knee, and sent a horizontal cutting curse in a wide arc. It caught two of the Death Eaters at waist level, bisecting them. Their upper halves toppled in one direction, their legs in another, blood pooling around the severed pieces.
The third Death Eater was faster, his shield deflecting Harry's follow up curse. He advanced on Harry, his wand a blur of motion, curses flying so fast they were almost invisible.
Harry met him spell for spell, their magic clashing in the air between them. Sparks flew, the very air crackling with the force of their battle. This one was skilled, trained, possibly an actual warrior rather than a thug.
It didn't matter.
Harry feinted left, then struck right. His curse tore through the Death Eater's shield and hit him square in the chest. The man's ribcage caved in, bones splintering, and his heart rupturing. He died before he hit the ground.
"Harry!" Daphne's warning came just in time.
Nagini had recovered, and she was furious. The massive snake launched herself at Harry with blinding speed, her body a coiled missile of scales and venom.
Harry threw up a shield but Nagini was too massive, too powerful. She smashed through it, her momentum carrying her forward. Harry tried to dodge but her tail caught him across the ribs, sending him flying across the room.
He hit the wall hard enough to crack the stone, stars exploding across his vision. Pain lanced through his side where the snake had struck, and he tasted blood in his mouth. His own this time.
Daphne's scream of rage was primal.
She unleashed a barrage of curses at Nagini, each one more vicious than the last. Cutting curses, blasting curses, fire and ice and lightning. The snake writhed and hissed, her scales smoking, blood oozing from a dozen wounds.
But she didn't die. Whatever dark magic Voldemort had used to create her, it protected her from mortal harm.
Harry staggered to his feet, his ribs screaming in protest. More Death Eaters were pouring through the door, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades without a second glance.
"The door!" Harry shouted. "We need to reach the door!"
They fought their way forward, leaving a trail of corpses in their wake. Harry's magic was starting to fray, exhaustion pulling at him, but he pushed through it. Survival demanded nothing less.
A Death Eater's curse caught Daphne in the leg, and she went down with a cry of pain. Harry was there instantly, standing over her, his wand moving in defensive patterns as he cast a powerful shield over them that kept the attackers at bay.
"Can you stand?" he asked, not taking his eyes off their enemies.
"Give me a second!" she gasped through clenched teeth.
They didn't have a second.
Nagini lunged again, her massive jaws snapping shut inches from Harry's face. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over Daphne, his shield barely holding as he hoisted her to her feet. Nagini lunged again, her massive fangs dripping with venom. Harry grabbed Daphne's waist and threw them both sideways. They hit the floor hard as the snake's body crashed into the spot where they'd been standing. The impact splintered the floorboards and sent splinters flying.
Before the serpent could recover, Harry jabbed his wand forward with vicious intent. A spike of conjured iron erupted from the floor and drove through the snake's tail, pinning the massive creature in place.
The shriek that tore from Nagini's throat was inhuman and agonized. Her body thrashed violently, her coils slamming into furniture and walls with enough force to crack the plaster. Harry didn't wait to see if she'd break free. He was already moving, hauling Daphne to her feet as another wave of Death Eaters crashed through.
A jet of sickly purple light missed Harry's head by inches. He felt the heat of it pass and retaliated on pure instinct. His wand flicked and the Death Eater's chest simply exploded. Ribs and sternum burst outward in a spray of blood and bone fragments. The man's scream cut off abruptly as he fell, his body a ruined mess.
A Death Eater raised his wand, mouth open to shout a curse. Daphne was faster. Her severing charm took his arm off at the elbow. He stared at the stump in shock for half a second, blood pumping from the wound. Then she followed with a piercing hex that punched through his throat and out the back of his neck. He gurgled wetly and collapsed, drowning in his own blood.
They burst into the kitchen. Harry slammed his wand toward the doorway behind them and the entire frame collapsed in a shower of stone and splintered wood, temporarily blocking pursuit. It wouldn't hold long but it bought them precious seconds to catch their breath.
"There's too many," Daphne panted. Blood from Bathilda's destroyed corpse still covered her face, mixing with fresh spatters from their attackers. Her hair was matted with it. "We need to get outside, past the wards so we can apparate."
"I know." Harry's scar was burning now, a dull persistent throb that meant real danger was close. Mortal danger. "Stay with me. Don't get separated no matter what."
They moved to the back door. Harry blasted it off its hinges with a reducto curse and they charged into the snow covered garden. Immediately, curses rained down on them from all sides. Death Eaters had surrounded the property completely, a ring of wands and malice.
Harry conjured a shield that absorbed the first volley. The impacts sent shockwaves through his arm but the barrier held. Beside him, Daphne transfigured a garden bench into a thick wall of stone that blocked more incoming spells. They crouched behind it, breathing hard and planning their next move.
"On three," Harry said, gathering his magic. He could feel it coiling inside him like a living thing, ready to be unleashed. "We run for the ward line and apparate the moment we cross it."
"Three is too many." Daphne's eyes were hard as flint, determined and fierce. "On one."
Harry looked at her and nodded. Their eyes met for a single heartbeat and he saw everything reflected there. Fear, determination, trust. She was trusting him to get them out of this alive.
He wouldn't let her down.
"One."
They exploded from cover in perfect synchronization. Harry's wand swept in a wide arc and the ground itself erupted. Chunks of frozen earth flew through the air like shrapnel, forcing the Death Eaters to scatter or raise shields. Daphne sent a chain of explosive hexes into the nearest group. Bodies flew apart in grotesque sprays of red. A Snatcher's torso separated from his legs. Another Death Eater's face was simply gone, replaced by a crater of exposed bone and brain matter.
A cutting curse caught Harry's shoulder and carved a line of fire across his skin. Pain lanced through him but he kept moving, refusing to slow. His wand slashed and a Death Eater's head snapped backward at an impossible angle, vertebrae cracking like dry wood. Another fell with his chest caved in from a bone crushing hex, his ribs driven inward to pierce his lungs and heart.
Daphne stumbled. A curse had caught her side and she gasped in pain. Harry grabbed her arm without breaking stride, half dragging her forward. She recovered quickly and sent a reductor curse into a Snatcher's face. The man's head simply ceased to exist above the jawline, reduced to a red mist.
They were twenty feet from the ward line. Fifteen. They could make it. They were going to make it.
And then the air grew heavy. Oppressively, unnaturally heavy. The temperature dropped so sharply that Harry's breath came out in white clouds that hung in the air. His scar exploded in white hot agony and he couldn't suppress the hiss of pain that tore from his throat. It felt like someone was driving a red hot poker directly into his skull.
Every Death Eater and Snatcher stopped attacking. They lowered their wands and stepped back, forming a corridor in the trampled snow. Their faces showed a mix of fear and reverence.
Harry knew what it meant before he appeared. He'd felt this presence before, in the graveyard, in his nightmares, in every moment of terror since he was fifteen months old.
Lord Voldemort materialized at the end of that corridor of Death Eaters.
He was tall and skeletal, his skin stretched tight over his skull like parchment. His eyes were red as blood, gleaming with triumph and malice. The robes he wore seemed to drink in the light, making him appear as a void in the world itself. And beside him, wild eyed and grinning like death incarnate, was Bellatrix Lestrange.
The sight of them hit Harry and Daphne like physical blows.
Harry felt his rage ignite instantly. It was a furnace in his chest that burned away everything else. Fear, pain, exhaustion, all of it consumed by the sheer force of his hatred. His parents had died because of this monster. Sirius had fallen through a veil. Dumbledore had sacrificed himself. Countless others had been murdered or tortured or driven mad. And the creature responsible stood before him, untouchable and gloating.
Beside him, Daphne made a sound like a wounded animal. Her entire body had gone rigid, every muscle locked tight. Her wand hand shook with the force of her fury and her breathing had turned ragged. Tears were streaming down her blood covered face, cutting clean paths through the gore.
Bellatrix noticed immediately. Her grin widened, her eyes glittering with sadistic delight. "Oh! Oh, this is precious! The little Greengrass girl! I remember you!" She cackled, the sound high and unhinged. "You looked so delicious screaming under the Cruciatus! Just like your mummy and your baby sister!"
"I'll kill you!" Daphne lurched forward, her leg injury forgotten in her rage. "I'll fucking kill you!"
Bellatrix cackled again. "Look at you! All grown up and trying to be fierce! But I can see it in your eyes, little girl. You're terrified. Just like you were when I had you tied to that railing, when I made you watch your precious house burn with your family inside!"
"You're going to pay for what you did. I swear on their graves, you're going to pay!"
"Such fire!" Bellatrix clapped her hands together in mock delight. "I do love a fighter! It makes breaking them so much more satisfying!" Her expression turned cruel. "Tell me, did you cry when you realized I'd left you alive? Did you wonder why I gave you the gift of experiencing what a witch burning must have felt like? I wanted you to suffer, you see. To live with the memory. To know that everything you loved was ash and you couldn't save any of it!"
Harry grabbed her arm, holding her back even as his own fury threatened to overwhelm him. Voldemort and Bellatrix together. The two people responsible for destroying their lives, standing right there.
"Not yet," he hissed urgently. "Not like this. She wants you angry. Wants you to lose control."
"How touching," Voldemort's voice was soft, inhuman, and utterly terrifying in its calmness. "Harry Potter. The boy who continues to defy death itself. How many times must we do this dance before you accept the inevitable?"
"As many times as it fucking takes," Harry spat. Blood was still trickling from the corner of his mouth, his ribs screaming in protest. "You're going to die. I'll make sure of it."
Voldemort laughed. "Such bravado. Such pointless defiance. Your parents said similar things before they died. Your mother in particular was quite vocal about her intentions to stop me." His lipless mouth curved into a mockery of a smile. "She failed, of course. They always fail in the end."
"Shut your fucking mouth about my parents!"
"Or what? You'll kill me?" Voldemort's red eyes gleamed with amusement. "You can barely stand, Potter. You're bleeding, exhausted, and surrounded by my followers. And you think you can threaten me?"
"I don't think," Harry said, his wand steady despite the tremor in his limbs. "I know."
"You do, do you?" Voldemort said, his lipless mouth curving into whatever amounted for him for a smile, making him look even more inhuman. "Then I believe it's time to end this farce. I grow weary of your persistent survival, Potter. Tonight, you die. Truly and finally."
The remaining Death Eaters formed a circle around them, cutting off any escape. Nagini coiled near Voldemort's feet, her tongue flicking out, tasting the air.
Harry and Daphne stood together, bloodied and battered, outnumbered and outmatched. But neither lowered their wands.
"Together," Harry said quietly to Daphne.
"Together," she agreed, her voice hoarse.
Grinning malevolently, Voldemort struck first.
His curse was a beam of sickly green light, the killing curse cast with such power that the air itself seemed to warp around it. Harry quickly summoned a large chunk of rock into the path of the curse, the force of the impact sending splinters flying in the air and him sliding backward.
Bellatrix's curse came a heartbeat later, aimed at Daphne. A purple bolt of crackling energy shot forward at a menacing pace that Daphne ducked under, her return fire forcing Bellatrix to dodge.
And the battle truly began.
It was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. Voldemort's magic was overwhelming, his curses coming faster than should be humanly possible. Each spell was cast with perfect precision, with killing intent behind every bolt.
Harry met them as best he could, his own curses flying back, his shields barely holding. But he could feel himself being pushed back, could feel the gap in power between them.
Daphne was faring no better against Bellatrix. The older witch was a master duelist, her movements fluid and unpredictable. She laughed as she fought, her manic glee only growing with each near miss.
"Is that all you've got?" Bellatrix taunted, her wand tracing elaborate patterns in the air. "Your father fought better than this before I killed him! At least he made me work for it!"
Daphne's scream of rage was wordless. Her curse was wild, uncontrolled, and Bellatrix batted it aside with contemptuous ease.
"Pathetic! Just like your family! All of you, so proud, so proper, thinking your precious neutrality made you special!" Bellatrix's next curse caught Daphne across the shoulder, burning through cloth and flesh. Daphne cried out, stumbling. "But you all screamed the same when I tortured you! All bled the same when I killed you!"
Harry tried to help Daphne, but Voldemort was relentless. A bone breaking curse grazed Harry's arm, and he felt something crack. Pain lanced up to his shoulder, but he forced himself to keep fighting.
"You cannot win, Harry Potter," Voldemort said, his voice calm despite the violence of their duel. "You never could. Your survival has been luck and chance, nothing more. Tonight, your luck runs out."
A cutting curse opened a gash along Harry's ribs. Blood soaked through his shirt, hot and sticky. He was slowing down, his exhaustion mounting, his injuries taking their toll.
Daphne wasn't doing better. Bellatrix's curse caught her in the chest, and she flew backward, crashing into a pile of debris. She tried to rise but her leg gave out, the earlier injury making it impossible to stand.
"Daphne!" Harry shouted as Bellatrix closed in for the kill, her wand raised and her face alight with anticipation. He banished another large chunk of rock, intercepting her killing curse. The rock exploded into smithereens.
Bellatrix whirled toward him, her expression transforming into pure fury. "Stay out of this, Potter! The little blood traitor is mine to kill!"
"You'll have to kill me for that," Harry snarled, putting himself between her and Daphne.
Alas, his moment of distraction cost him. Voldemort's curse hit him square in the side, and Harry screamed as pain exploded through his body. It felt like his insides were being twisted, his bones bending in ways they shouldn't.
He fell to one knee, gasping, his vision swimming.
"Yes," Voldemort hissed with amusement, moving closer. "This is where you belong. On your knees before your betters. Just like your parents in their final moments."
Harry looked up, his green eyes meeting Voldemort's red ones. Despite the pain, despite the blood pouring from a dozen wounds, he smiled. It was a cold, terrible smile.
"My parents died protecting me," Harry said. "What did you die for? Oh right. You haven't stayed dead yet. But you will."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Defiant to the end. How tedious."
He raised his wand for the killing blow.
Harry raised his own wand, knowing it was futile but unable to give up. If he was going to die, he'd die fighting.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort's voice was like ice and death, and Harry thrust his wand forward, pouring everything he had into the curse.
The spells met in midair, and the world exploded in gold.
The connection formed instantly, their wands locking together in that strange, impossible bond. Golden light erupted from the point where the beams met, spreading outward in a cage of pure magic, exactly as it had in the graveyard two years ago. The phoenix song filled the air, beautiful and mournful and achingly sad. Harry felt his wand pull toward Voldemort's, felt the connection lock into place like a key in a lock.
Voldemort's eyes widened in shock before they narrowed in fury. "No! Not again!"
But it was happening again. The Priori Incantatem, the reverse spell effect, the phenomenon that had saved Harry in the graveyard.
Except this time, Voldemort was prepared.
Harry felt the older wizard's will pressing against his own, felt the sheer force of Voldemort's hatred and power trying to overwhelm him. It was like trying to hold back an ocean with his bare hands.
The Dark Lord had learned from their previous encounter. He was stronger now, more focused, his concentration absolute. The golden light flickered and dimmed under the onslaught of his power.
Sweat poured down Harry's face, mixing with the blood. His entire body shook with the effort of maintaining the link. He thought of his parents dying to protect him. Of Sirius falling through the veil. Of Dumbledore's broken body. Of everyone he'd lost and everyone he still had to protect.
The light brightened again but barely. It was taking everything he had just to hold the connection.
"You think this will save you again?" Voldemort hissed, his face contorted with rage. "I am stronger now! More powerful! You cannot resist me!"
He was right. Harry could feel it. Voldemort's will was like a crushing weight, pressing down on him, threatening to shatter his resolve. The golden bead where their spells met was moving, slowly but inexorably, toward Harry's wand.
If it reached his wand tip, he would die.
Harry gritted his teeth, pouring everything he had into holding the connection. Not just his magic, but his will, his determination, his refusal to give up.
Images flashed through his mind. Hermione. Celeste. And Daphne.
All the people he was fighting for. All the reasons he couldn't give up.
The bead stopped moving.
Voldemort's eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible!"
"Nothing's impossible," Harry gasped. "Nothing."
He pushed back.
The bead moved toward Voldemort's wand, inch by agonizing inch. Voldemort's expression turned from disbelief to fury to something almost like fear.
And then the echoes began to emerge.
They came from Voldemort's wand like ghosts, spectral forms of his most recent victims. Harry recognized none of them at first. Faces he'd never seen, people whose names he didn't know.
Then a woman appeared. Middle aged, with kind eyes and graying hair. She looked at Harry with recognition.
"Harry Potter," she said, her voice echoing strangely. "You might not recognize me as I am right now. I'm Charity Burbage. I taught Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. He killed me for teaching tolerance. For believing Muggles and wizards were equal."
Another figure emerged from the wand. A man in his fifties, stern and proud even in death.
"Reginald Cattermole. Ministry worker. I refused to help hunt Muggleborns. He killed me and replaced me with an imposter."
More came in quick succession. A young witch barely out of Hogwarts. An elderly wizard with kind eyes and a gentle smile. A woman clutching a locket to her chest. All of them Voldemort's recent victims. All of them moving to shield Harry from the Dark Lord's wrath, forming a barrier of the dead between life and death.
Another figure emerged. This one Harry recognized immediately.
Amelia Bones.
The former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement looked as stern in death as she had in life. She was exactly as Harry remembered from the one time he'd seen her during that farce of a trial. Monocled, square jawed, and radiating authority and competence even in death. Her eyes found Harry's, and something like approval flickered in them.
"Harry Potter," she said crisply. "Listen to me carefully. My niece Susan is alive. She's been helping people, moving families to safety, fighting back against this regime. She's everything I could have hoped for and more. Everything a Bones should be. When you see her, and you will see her, tell her I'm proud. Tell her she's doing exactly what she should be doing." Her expression softened slightly. "Tell her I wish things were different. Tell her that I wish we had more time together."
"I will," Harry promised, his voice strained.
More echoes emerged, a parade of the dead. Each one a life Voldemort had ended, each one a victim of his cruelty.
And they were distracting him.
Voldemort's concentration wavered, his red eyes flicking between the echoes and Harry. Bellatrix had stopped her assault on Daphne, staring at the golden cage with something like horror.
"No!" Voldemort snarled. "I will not be humiliated again!"
He tried to break the connection, tried to pull away, but the magic wouldn't let him. The echoes pressed closer, their presence a reminder of his crimes.
Amelia smiled at him once again. And then she and all the other ghosts turned to face Voldemort with expressions of defiance.
"Now," Charity Burbage said firmly. "Run while you still can."
The ghosts surged forward as one. The golden connection wavered and flickered. Voldemort's concentration broke for just an instant as he tried to push the spirits aside, to reassert control over his own wand.
That single instant was all they needed.
"Daphne!" he shouted. "Now! We have to go now!"
Daphne understood instantly. Despite her injuries, despite the pain, she forced herself to her feet. Her wand moved, and Harry felt the magic gathering around them.
Daphne's face contorted with fury. All the pain, the loss, the burning hatred, all of it solidified in a single moment of uncontrolled rage.
"FIENDFYRE!" she screamed.
The cursed fire erupted from her wand like a living thing. It wasn't controlled, wasn't shaped or directed. It was pure destruction given form, a wall of flame that consumed everything in its path.
The fire took the shape of massive beasts, dragons and serpents of flame that roared and thrashed, all wreathed in hungry flames intent on consuming everything they touched. They surged toward Voldemort and Bellatrix, their heat so intense that the air itself ignited.
The Death Eaters scattered in all directions, screaming in terror. Even Bellatrix had to dodge, her mad laughter cutting off abruptly as she threw herself sideways.
"Daphne, we need to go!" Harry shouted.
The connection between their wands snapped. Harry stumbled backward, his hand grabbing Daphne's arm. She was still staring at the advancing Fiendfyre, her eyes wide and unseeing.
"Daphne!"
She snapped out of it, her eyes focusing on him. Together they ran, stumbling over debris and bodies, racing for the boundary of the wards.
Behind them, Voldemort roared in fury. His magic lashed out, trying to control the Fiendfyre, but even he struggled for a few precious moments against its wild nature. The house was already burning, the cursed flames consuming wood and stone with equal hunger.
Harry and Daphne reached the garden, crossed the property line, and felt the wards release them.
Harry spun and grabbed Daphne with both arms. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second and he saw his own emotions reflected there.
"Hold tight!" He gasped.
The last thing Harry heard before the world compressed around them was Voldemort's scream of primal fury.
And then they were gone.
The sound of his fury followed them even through the void, and both Harry and Daphne knew that somewhere behind them, Godric's Hollow was burning.
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