“Not another move, Potter.” Severus Snape’s voice echoed through the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. Harry Potter stood with his back to Snape, instead facing his lifelong enemy, Lord Voldemort, who glared at him from where he stood between Harry and an ancient stone arch with a lightly fluttering veil. Harry’s wand was raised, while Voldemort’s lay broken at his feet.
“What are you going to do, Snape?” Harry asked without turning around. “We both know you can’t kill me - that Unbreakable Vow your master made you take is enough to prevent that.” He didn’t have to turn around and look to know that the former professor was surprised. “Oh yes, I know all about that. You didn’t really think you were the Order’s only spy, did you?” Harry didn’t actually know who the new spy was, but his information had proven extremely useful - particularly when he had revealed that Lord Voldemort’s intense desire to personally kill Harry had caused him to force his servants to swear with an Unbreakable Vow that they would leave Harry for him.
“It doesn’t matter, Potter. I don’t have to kill you,” Snape said mockingly, before adding in a menacing whisper, “I only have to leave you defenseless and allow you to die.”
Across the room, Ginny Weasley - no, Ginny Potter, she reminded herself - recent graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, shuffled sideways, trying to get a clear shot at Snape. A painful broken leg, coupled with her desire to take Snape by surprise, prevented her from moving very quickly. As she thought of her new last name, a slight smile formed on her lips. She and Harry had gotten married only the night before, in a small ceremony at a Muggle church in Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry had said that he wanted a Muggle ceremony because it would make avoiding the Wizarding press so much easier, but Ginny had a strong suspicion that he saw it as a way of connecting with his mother, who was Muggle-born.
Ginny silently winced in pain as she slid along the stone floor. After destroying the last of Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, Harry had made the disturbing discovery that he was incapable of casting the Killing Curse, despite the fact that he needed to kill Voldemort personally in order to fulfill the prophecy and end his reign of terror. Hermione, who now lay unconscious a short distance from Ginny, had come up with the idea of Harry luring Voldemort to the Department of Mysteries and pushing him through the veil. Until now, everything had gone more or less according to plan. Of course, Hermione being unconscious, and Ginny and Ron both suffering from broken legs hadn’t been part of the plan, but at least they were all still alive. And Harry finally had the upper hand - all it would take would be one good push, and Lord Voldemort would finally disappear forever. The only thing that could turn the tide against Harry now was Snape.
Without warning, Snape flicked his wand at Harry’s back. Harry, seeming to sense what was coming, lunged forward at the same instant, shoving Voldemort with all his might. The once-powerful wizard stumbled backward and fell, with a look of shock on his face, through the veil, never to return. As Voldemort disappeared, Snape’s spell hit Harry in the back, causing him to collapse on the dais. He cast another spell at Harry, which caused a blue glow to surround him for a second. When the glow faded, Harry vanished.
“NO!” Ron’s shout echoed through the Death Chamber and Snape’s head immediately snapped around toward him.
“Sectumsempra!” Ginny shouted, slashing at her former professor with her wand. His eyes widened in shock as his chest was viciously slashed open by a curse he had personally created.
“Reducto!” Ginny shouted, still pointing her wand at him. There was a satisfying crunching sound as the bones in Snape’s face were reduced to powder. “Reducto! Sectumsempra! Reducto! Cruci-”
“Expelliarmus!” Ron’s voice rang out, and Ginny’s wand flew from her hand.
“Ron, no!” she shouted hysterically as tears ran down her cheeks. Snape had just sent Harry to his death. She wanted to make him pay; she wanted him to suffer.
“Getting yourself chucked into Azkaban won’t bring Harry back,” Ron argued as he choked on his own tears. He dragged himself over to his sister and collapsed next to her as their former professor quickly bled to death across the room.
Ginny Potter awoke in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries with a splitting headache. She looked blearily around the room and immediately focused in on her mother.
“Mum?” she called weakly. Her voice was scratchy, and she suddenly realized that she desperately needed a drink of water. Her mother seemed to realize it too, because she immediately pressed a glass of water into Ginny’s hands.
“How are you feeling?” she asked gently as Ginny sipped her water.
“I’ve been worse,” Ginny answered truthfully. “How are Ron and Hermione?”
“They’re fine,” Mrs. Weasley reassured her. “They’re both still in the hospital as well, but there won’t be any lasting damage.”
“And Harry?” She held her breath.
Mrs. Weasley’s face took on a pained expression. “We were hoping you could tell us that, dear. We know he was in the Death Chamber, along with you three, You-Know-Who, Snape, and Bellatrix Lestrange, but when we arrived, Harry and You-Know-Who were gone.”
Ginny swallowed hard and recounted the battle as best she could. When she had finished, both of her parents looked stricken. “What is it, Mum? Dad?” she asked at last, dreading the answer.
“Ginny, I’m not sure how to tell you this, but the end of your story just isn’t possible,” said Mr. Weasley. “The only spell I know of that could even approach what you described is Portus, but... well, it can’t exactly be used on living creatures.”
“And what if it was?” Ginny asked, dreading the answer.
“It wouldn’t work,” her father answered, shaking his head. “But the point is, even if Severus did manage to turn Harry into a Portkey, somebody would have had to touch him to activate it. I’m afraid, Ginny, that your mind is probably blocking out something that it doesn’t want to deal with. Ron said he wasn’t really in a position to see what happened; he only knew that Harry lunged at You-Know-Who, and then they both disappeared. I think-” he blinked back his tears and continued, “-I think that we have to accept the possibility that You-Know-Who pulled Harry through the veil with him.”
“No!” Ginny shouted, sitting up quickly. A wave of nausea hit her and she promptly threw up on the floor.
“Ginny Weasley, lie back down this instant!” her mother ordered.
“Don’t call me that,” Ginny growled as she refused to lie down.
Mrs. Weasley’s hands flew to cover her mouth in horror. “Oh Ginny, I’m sorry,” she cried. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I think you did,” Ginny shot back angrily. “My last name is Potter, mother; don’t forget it again. Harry’s alive, and he will come back. I know he will.”
“Of course, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. Ginny could tell by her tone that she didn’t mean it.
That night, however, as she lay in the solitude of her hospital room, Ginny Potter cried like the little girl her mother thought she still was. The courage and assurance that she had felt during the day faded with the setting of the sun, and all she felt was emptiness. Harry was gone. He may not have followed Voldemort through the veil, but did it really matter? Hadn’t Snape said he would render him defenseless and send him to his death? Yes, he had. And then Ginny had killed him for it, without stopping to think that maybe, if she had captured him alive, he might have been forced to reveal what he had done with Harry. In the end, the truth was worse than if Voldemort really had pulled Harry through the veil; the truth was that Harry’s own wife had as good as killed him. With this thought echoing in her mind, Ginny cried herself to sleep.