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Chapter 27: The Final Chapter Khurban had begun his existence as a dichotomy, an alliance of two diverse individuals, Harry Potter and the creature of the potion. As time passed, he was becoming more and more the creature and less and less Harry Potter. The Harry Potter part of Khurban, found little reason to continue. He'd experienced hurt, the loss of everyone he'd loved, and betrayal by his friends,so, day by day, he relinquished more of himself to the potion. There was still some of Harry Potter left, but not much. One day, Khurban would be all creature of the potion, and Harry Potter, just as if he'd died, would no longer exist. Khurban would have his memories and his strength, but none of his character. The portion of Khurban that was not Harry Potter become stronger with each murder -- with each act of revenge. He'd taken his revenge out on Ron. Under an Imperious Curse, Ron had killed Dean Thomas and had been sentenced to Azkaban for life, a fate worse than death. Next he had revenge on Bellatrix Lastrange. Her sister had led Khurban to her: Khurban went alone. He didn't need his army. At home, Narcissa Malfoy was easy to find. Although her husband and son were Death Eaters, she ostensibly wasn't. Khurban knew better, but, even if she hadn't been, it wouldn't have mattered. She could lead him to Bellatrix. That's all he cared about. She let him in, believing he was Voldemort reincarnated. Any Death Eater could have made the same mistake. They expected Voldemort to return, but he hadn't yet. Who else could this creature be? He had Voldemort's red eyes and pale skin -- even wore a hooded cloak like Voldemort; and any resemblance to Harry Potter was fading with each passing day. "Narcissa," he said. "Master," she answered, admitting her guilt with the word. "Where is Bellatrix?" he asked. She told him, but he killed her anyway, not because of need -- she still believed him to be Voldemort -- but because her murder diminished Harry all the more. Bellatrix must have seen something in his face, because she was afraid of him, even though she believed he was Voldemort. She had reason to be afraid, because she died most horribly. Incineratimus was the spell he used on her, saying first, "This is for Colin," but is wasn't for Colin. He'd said it for that small spark of Harry Potter that still existed, justifying the callous murder he was about to commit. Upon the speaking of the spell, Bellatrix began to burn with a blue, electric, flame that began at her feet, spreading slowly upward. Khurban could smell her flesh burn, as turning black, it split, then withered, the blue flame consuming her as it spread upward, first her feet, then her ankles and her legs. She lived until the flame reached her heart. That she was still sane when it did, was doubtful. "That was for Colin," the spark that was Harry said, then dimmed, becoming weaker. Two more murders, Khurban knew, and the spark would be extinguished. Two more -- specific -- murders, and Khurban would be whole -- would be entirely the creature of the potion. He had Harry Potter's body -- changed as it was. He would soon have his soul. With the power of the potion and Harry Potter's body and soul, he would be the most powerful wizard of all time, more powerful than Voldemort even. She hid from him. Why would she even think she was in danger? Was it because of what had happened to Dean and Ron? Did that lead her to believe that he threatened her and her baby? He did, of course. What murder, what act of revenge, could better extinguish the spark that was Harry Potter? If Ginny and her baby died -- killed by Khurban -- Harry would have no reason to remain. All those that had hurt him, all those who had loved him, all those he had loved, would be dead. With no further need to love -- or to hate -- he would have no reason to exist? Aided by powerful magic, performed by a wizard second only to himself, she remained hidden for over a year. The child, a boy he knew it was, would be a year old. He hadn't needed his army. Most of the Death Eaters, either believing him to be Voldemort, or convinced he was stronger, had come over to his side. Once he'd taken care of this last chore -- once he'd extinguished the last spark of Harry Potter, he would rule the world, both the world of wizards and that of muggles -- if he deigned to let any muggles live. He'd let Snape live, knowing that Ginny's death and that of her child's, were needed, not Snape's. Snake would be useful; and it was Harry, not Khurban, who regretted the death of Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy, he neutered, but did not kill, not so much for revenge. He no longer cared about the boys Draco had neutered, but Malfoy would make a more dependable servant, if he had to look to him for the restoration of his genitals; and someday, he would give him a silver cock and balls like the ones he'd given the others. He would have never found her, if Dennis, her adopted brother, hadn't told him where she was. Alone with her baby, she didn't seemed surprised to see him. The baby, a boy with red hair and green eyes, was sitting on his mother's lap, when he entered. Standing up when she saw him, she put him on the floor, holding his hand, as he stood next to her. "I wondered when you'd come," she said. "Do you know why I've come?" Khurban asked. "To kill me and my son," she said, showing no emotion -- no fear that he could discern. It puzzled him. "Do you think," Khurban said that you'll do the same to me that Harry's mother did to Voldemort? Do you intend to sacrifice yourself to save your son, thinking that it will make him impervious to my power?" "No," she said. "I think that there's just enough of Harry left in you to prevent you from killing me or my child." "He's never prevented me from killing others, some most cruelly." "I loved Harry," she said. "You betrayed him!" he screamed, reminding Harry as much as her. "Yes," she said, "but only with my body, never in my heart. I always loved only Harry." "But, you had Dean Thomas's kid." She opened her mouth to speak, but knowing what she was about to say and not wanting the Harry within him to hear, Khurban said, "Stupefy." Ginny froze, her mouth open, before she could utter a word. Neither would she be able to throw herself in front of the child to save him. First, he would kill the boy, then the mother. His mother's love wouldn't save him. She'd still be alive when he died. The boy looked up at him. He expected him to cry, but he didn't. Khurban pointed his wand at him, intending to speak that Unforgivable Curse, that killing curse, Avada Kedavra, but something held him back -- Harry. He was stronger than he had thought. "Why?" he heard a voice in his head say. "Why the child? What has he done?" "He's Dean Thomas's child." Khurban told him. "She betrayed you with Dean. This will end it. This will rid the world of all such betrayers." "But, she said that she loved me." So that was it. One protestation of love and the spark had kindled a flame -- quench it before it grew. Kill the child! Pointing the wand at the child once again, he exerted all his will. Harry, inside, was too weak. He would prevail. Killing the child and his mother would kill Harry, too. "No, Harry." he heard someone say. Turning he saw -- Dumbledore, a younger Dumbledore, but Dumbledore, non-the-less. "You're dead," he said. "Harry saw you die. They buried you." "They buried a husk, an old, worn out, husk, not my soul. Fawkes captured that as it fled my body, then he grew me a new body, reintroducing my soul into it." You won't be alive much longer, he thought, turning his wand from the child, to Dumbledore, meaning to kill him before he could react, but he was again slowed by the part of him that was Harry, "Not Dumbledore," the voice said. "Avada Kedavra," he said, but not as quickly as he had intended. "Expelliarmus," Dumbledore said, at the same instant. A green flame from his wand shot out, meeting a red flame from Dumbledore's wand. They met in mid air, blocking each from its intended target. The two wizards rose up into the air, hanging there for several minutes. Then the flame from Dumbledore's wand began to waver. His flame was becoming weaker, while Khuban's was becoming stronger. The green flame edged closer to Dumbledore's chest. Once it struck him, he would die. "Harry," Dumbledore said, panting a little as he did, exhausted by the effort the spell required, "the boy is your son. It's your son he wants to kill, Harry. He knows it's your son. That's why he stopped Ginny. He knew she was about to tell you. Ginny never betrayed you after coming to you. She wanted your son. She wanted that part of you at least. She loves you Harry. She's always loved you." Khurban was suddenly fighting two battles, one external and one internal. The flame, ignited by the spark, was spreading. His icy heart was thawing. Love, battling the hate that had filled it, was warming it. The green flame from his wand waned. He and Dumbledore, neither exerting so much power, settled to the floor. Dumbledore spoke again. "You're not Khurban," Dumbledore said. "Khurban never existed. The other being you sense is Voldemort. The Potion of Power spell in the book was another of Voldemort's Horcruxes. It's Voldemort who has been trying to take over both your body and your soul. He's used the illusion of Khurban to deceive you into believing that becoming him was the only way you could defeat Voldemort, but by becoming him, you become Voldemort." "Think, Harry. That's why you haven't been able to find Voldemort. He's inside you." Was it true? Could he do anything about it, if it were? He had long ago submitted to Khurban, letting him take over. He felt weak, unable to resist the stronger being that inhabited his body, whether it be Khurban or Voldemort. Still, he was able to lower the wand. That took all his strength; but how long he could prevent Khurban/Voldemort from renewing his attack, he didn't know. At least, Dumbledore could use the opportunity to kill Voldemort -- to kill them both, since they inhabited the same body. Instead, Dumbledore released Ginny from the spell. "Harry," she said, rushing to him, throwing her arms around him, kissing his cold, thin lips. "I love you, Harry. I've always loved you. This is our son, Harry. This is Harry Jr." He wasn't able to defeat Voldemort, but Ginny's love did. He heard a scream inside his head, then he was alone -- no Khurban -- no Voldemort -- just Harry Potter. He dropped his wand. "What have I done?" he cried. "I killed Dean -- and the others, Bellatrix, Narcissa. And Ron. He's in Azkaban. He never betrayed me either, did he?" "No," said Dumbledore, "it was Dennis who betrayed Colin. Voldemort had promised to restore his genitals. He was afraid of becoming a girl like Colin." Harry looked at Ginny. "I loved Colin," he said, "but I never stopped loving you. Even when I hated you, I still loved you; but how can you love me as I am? Look at me." "Look yourself, Harry," Ginny said, conjuring up a mirror. He was himself again. Ginny's love had killed Voldemort, and with the death of Voldemort, the effects of the potion had disappeared. Never actually a potion, it had been a Horcrux. It had been Voldemort's occupation of his body that had changed him, not a potion. Once Voldemort was gone, so were the effects. But, what about -- ? He felt his crotch. He still had genitals, but what kind? Despite the presence of Dumbledore and Ginny, he had to know, so lifting his robe he looked. They were normal, flesh colored, not silver. "Yes," said Dumbledore, "you're whole once more." And Voldemort? Is he gone for good, this time?" "No -- alas. I'm afraid not. You see, he had something more powerful than Horcruxes." "What was it?" asked Harry. "His seed. His son. The child he had with Hermione. He will find his way to it, becoming one with it. Do you know where she is?" Harry searched his memory. "No," he said. "Somehow, he hid that from me. I know he told her to protect the child with her life, but I don't know where she's taken it. She's under an Imperious Curse, you know. Hermione had no choice. It was rape. He -- we -- raped her. I remember that part of it, but I don't know where he sent her. How can I forgive myself for what I did to her -- for those I've hurt, for what I've done to Ron, for killing Dean?" "You didn't do it, Harry," said Dumbledore. "It was Voldemort." "I stopped him from killing you. Why wasn't I able to stop him from killing Dean and the others?" "Because you'd lost hope and love. Those are the strongest forms of magic. Without them, you weren't able to fight Voldemort. Without them, he was too strong for you. It was love that defeated him, as it has every time. That's his weakness. Not having ever known love, he can't understand how strong it is. "What do we do now?" Harry asked. "First we rescue Ron from Azkaban," said Dumbledore, "then we look for Hermione. At least we have some time. As a baby, Voldemort can't do much. He'll have to grow up some to become a threat. But, we must find him before he's mature enough to procreate, because each child he produces will become a type of Horcrux, and since each will possess a soul, he won't have to divide his. In this way, he can truly become immortal, passing to a new, younger, body whenever his is finished with the other; and with a whole soul, he will be stronger than he ever was." "We've defeated him, yet he's stronger than ever," said Harry. "At least we've bought ourselves some time," said Dumbledore, " You've survived again -- and you have a son. I predict he'll be a powerful wizard in his own right. Let's call it a draw, for now." They rescued Ron from Azkaban. Scrimgeour couldn't stand up against both Harry and Dumbledore once they had explained Ron had been under an Imperious Curse, especially since Voldemort had been vanquished once again. Azkaban had aged Ron. At first, Harry thought they'd brought out the wrong prisoner, so unlike Ron was he. His hair, now grown past his shoulders, although red, had streaks of gray in it. He had a scraggly beard and had probably lost thirty pounds. Stooped over, he walked as if he carried a heavy burden. At least -- when Harry looked into his eyes -- it was Ron who looked back. Azkaban hadn't driven him insane as it had many. "Blimey, Harry," he said, "where have you been? I thought sure Voldemort had got you." "Voldemort did have him," Dumbledore said. "Harry had used a potion that allowed Voldemort to take possession of him." "I'm the reason you've spent all this time in Azkaban," Harry said. "I made you kill Dean." "That's not quite fair, Harry," said Dumbledore. It was Voldemort who placed the Imperious Curse on Ron." "No," said Harry. "He could never have done it by himself. I was still an equal part of Khurban at that time. I wanted to punish both Dean and Ron. I thought Ron had betrayed me." "Voldemort used your hate, Harry, your hate for himself against you. All you had left was hate. Those you loved had either died, or you thought they had betrayed you. That's why he had to kill Colin. He could never had taken over, if she had still been alive, if your heart was full of love for her." "He'd planned it all Harry, her death and his own. He knew you'd prepared the potion. He knew that, if he took possession of you, he could become immortal. Only on your body, could he have grown the silver genitals, with which he could father a son. You've always been his antithesis, you were the good to his evil. Only by forcing you to accept evil could he hope to win." "But, I changed when I took the potion," said Harry. "By drinking the potion, you let Voldemort inside. He was waiting in the potion. Dean Thomas carried him there after Colin's spirit killed him." "Dean Thomas?" "Yes," said Dumbledore. "Dean was always Voldemort's man. He used a love potion on Ginny, otherwise she would never have made love to him. Still, even with the potion, she never loved him. She still loved you. She just couldn't resist his advances. She might have even been able to do that if you had done more to satisfy her at the time." Harry remember how, angry that she could climax and he couldn't, he had shut her out. So much of this still seemed to be his fault. "I never liked Dean," said Ron. "I always thought there was something wrong about him." "You never thought it strange that he was the only boy who had genitals to come to Hogwarts with the neutered boys?" said Dumbledore. "He said his parents had sent him to protect him." said Harry. "Only his and no others?" asked Dumbledore. "His parents sent him all right, but only because Voldemort told them to." "They were Death Eaters?" "Yes," said Dumbledore, "Voldemort's influenced many more than we suspected. "But you said that Voldemort planned his own death?" "Snape told me that he detected Colin's aura around you before Voldemort used the Curse on you. Voldemort must have seen it, too, and had known that it would reflect back the Curse. He probably hadn't planned that originally, probably had planned for you to kill him with the Unforgivable Curse, but it worked well enough, especially since you used the curse on Kreacher." "I was angry -- filled with hate," said Harry. "I even thought about killing Ron because I thought he'd betrayed me." "Bloody Hell," said Ron. "You were going to kill me?" "I thought about it," said Harry. "I thought you were responsible for Colin's death; but I couldn't do it. We'd been friends too long." "It's good that you didn't," said Dumbledore. "If you had, Voldemort would have won. Even Ginny's love couldn't have saved you.." "But I killed so many," said Harry. "The only one you killed before Voldemort took you over was a Death Eater, and that was in battle." "I killed Kreacher," said Harry. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "there is that; but if he deserved it. He betrayed you, his master, just as he betrayed Sirius." "You said Snape told you?" said Harry. "But he killed you." "He was following my instructions," said Dumbledore. "He knew that Fawkes would resurrect me. Isn't this new body better than my old one with the withered arm? "I wish you'd told me," said Harry. "Unfortunately, there wasn't time." "So I was wrong about Snape all the time?" asked Harry. "Yes, Snape was my spy. He earned his spurs when he killed me. Until then, Voldemort had doubts about his loyalty. Snape is the reason I know all that I do." "How about Draco Malfoy?" asked Harry. "Draco was never really evil like his father. He was almost as much a victim as anyone. He couldn't escape his upbringing -- who his parents were." "But he neutered all those boys." "If he hadn't," said Dumbledore, "Greyback would have neutered him, but by biting off his genitals, then probably killed him as well. Others in his place might have done as much. Draco's failing is that he's a coward." "I neutered him," said Harry. "Voldemort neutered him," said Dumbledore. "I was there, too," said Harry. "But you'd given over control to the illusion that was Khurban," said Dumbledore. "I could --" He'd started to say that he could give him back his genitals, but he realized he no longer knew the spell; besides, the seed in those balls belonged to Voldemort. It infected those inseminated with it, insuring loyalty -- he knew now -- not to Khurban, but to Voldemort. "All those boys and girls, Khurban's army, they've sworn an Unbreakable Vow to Khurban," he said. "Then, it's an oath to Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "We'll have to do something about them." "What about Greyback?" asked Ron. Greyback had bitten his brother Bill. "Greyback's dead," said Dumbledore. "Snape killed him." "What about Bill?" said Ron. "There's a good chance that Greyback's death will cure the evil that's infected him," said Dumbledore. We'll have to wait for the next full moon to be certain. Greyback's death may even cure Lupin. His bite made him into a werewolf." "The Dursleys," said Harry. "I've killed the Dursleys." He told them about how he'd changed them into pigs and that they'd been slaughtered the previous spring. "Did Dudley deserve what he got?" asked Dumbledore. "Yes," said Harry, thinking of all those muggle boys he'd killed -- of his rape of Colin. "He deserved it." And, he did. As much as any of the Death Eaters, he deserved death. "But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? They're dead, too." "They chose their fate when they chose not to love you," said Dumbledore, "and Voldemort --" "No," said Harry, "that wasn't Voldemort. I wanted to do it." "If you hadn't, I might have myself," said Dumbledore. "They were pigs -- even when they had human form. That they ended that way provides their lives a certain congruency " "Don't beat yourself up over all the things you did while possessed by Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "You saved me. You saved Ginny and your son. You're good, Harry. That good prevailed in the end." * * * With solicitous care from his mother, Ron gained weight and lost his stoop. His hair remained gray at the temples and he had a forelock of gray hair, but for the most part, he recovered from the ordeal of his imprisonment at Azkaban. Dennis took his place there. They had no other choice. Dennis had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to Voldemort -- and for nothing. Voldemort had never given him genitals. Harry and Ginny were married at her parent's house. Ron was his best man once again. They moved in with her parents. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place had too many memories for him -- both good and bad. That first night in bed with Ginny, Harry didn't know whether he'd be able to make love to her, so much had happened. He wasn't even certain whose genitals he had. He'd lost his to the potion. They'd fallen off almost two years before. Although the ones he had now, weren't silver, how could he be certain his ball wouldn't produce silver sperm, infecting her with a love for Voldemort, or worse yet, impregnate her with Voldemort's child. And, thinking about Voldemort's child, wasn't it also his child? His body, altered as it had been, had fathered that child. His DNA was part of it; and yet, when they found it, they would have to kill it. He hadn't been able to kill the child he had with Ginny. Could he kill the one he fathered with Hermione? Could he kill his and Hermione's child? Would -- without the Imperious Curse -- Hermione still love that child of rape -- love the child that was destined to become Voldemort? "I don't think we should make love," he said to Ginny, then he told her about the silver seed, about how he was afraid of what his balls might produce. Ginny pulled out his cock. It was flaccid. It hadn't been erect since Harry had been rid of Voldemort. He wasn't even certain it would function. "It might not work," he said. "It just lies there." "If we have to," said Ginny, "we'll use the Viagamus spell, but let me try first." She kissed it, then began stroking it. Almost to Harry's surprise, but apparently not to Ginny's, it became hard. "It's bigger," said Ginny. "It wasn't that big before." "I --" said Harry, embarrassed to admit it. "when I made myself another one, I wanted one at least as big as Dean's." "It's bigger than Dean's," she said, "at least an inch longer and bigger around -- whew, it's big." "See," said Harry, "that proves it isn't mine. We can't trust what might come out of these balls." "We'll find out what's in them," Ginny said, as she continued to pump. When he came, Harry closed his eyes, not because he didn't want to see what his balls produced, but because he had no other choice. It was his first real orgasm in two years. Khurban's orgasms had been nothing, just a mechanical ejaculation of his seed. This orgasm overwhelmed Harry, washing over him like an ocean wave. When he opened his eyes, Ginny was twirling her finger in the come pooled on his stomach. It was white, not silver. "Looks ok to me," she said. Then, she stuck her finger in her mouth. "Tastes ok, too. And I still love you, not Voldemort." "I still don't know if we should do it," he said. "We're doing it," said Ginny. And they did it -- and did it. "See," she said when they were through, "I told you there was nothing to worry about." "Still, we took an awful chance," he said. "Not really," said Ginny. "While you had your eyes shut, I used my wand to check out the spunk on your stomach. There was no magic in it -- other than the magic of being Harry Potter's seed. It's yours, Harry. Even if Voldemort made those balls, they're your now. They're part of you." That called for another round of love making. After all, they had two years to make up for. One day, Harry visited Colin's grave. In her wedding dress, she was just as he'd left her, still beautiful. Lifeless, though, her lips were cold. Sill, he kissed her and placed a red rose on her breast. One day, he'd have to pursue Voldemort again; but, for now, he had some living to do -- and a son to raise. * * * THE END (For now) Author's Note: I wish to thank the many people who have helped me with this story: |