"Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice."

— Robert Frost

"What's your name?" the little girl questioned back. Her voice was oddly calm, her speech more developed than it should have been for her age. There was something old and ageless about her — almost inhuman. Her features were pale and waxy, dark magic throbbing off of her.

"My name is Hermione," Hermione replied, swallowing as she took a tentative step closer. "This is Draco and Theo."

Delphini regarded them for a moment, observing them with a clinical curiosity. As Hermione got closer, she noticed faint black veins on the girl's face stemming from her neck down to her chest. She shared a look with Draco. They were both thinking the same thing — Voldemort must have done something to her. Hermione had a sick feeling it had something to do with the vessel.

"Are you here to fix me?" Delphini's eyes narrowed. Hermione blinked, kneeling before the little girl so that they were at eye level. Draco and Theo shifted behind her.

"Why would you need fixing?" Hermione asked carefully. It was too much, too familiar — the unruly black hair and the brilliant green eyes. She looked so much like Harry. And Bellatrix. Fuck. What have they done?

"Mother says I'm sick," Delphini replied, frowning. "I hear things — when I sleep I get nightmares. It's painful when Father gets angry. He's always angry and it hurts."

Hermione's chest tightened.

"What have they been doing to fix you?" Draco asked this time. Hermione could not see him but she could hear the underlying severity in his voice.

"Many things," Delphini shrugged nonchalantly. "Mother says they're close to fixing me with medicine — from a snake like Nagini."

It was then Hermione recognized Bellatrix's desperate scream in the forest when Senia had disappeared — it was a mother's cry.

"They said I will feel better," Delphini continued. "It always hurts. Father is always angry."

There was something wrong with Delphini. Something was possessing her — Hermione was sure of it. It was evident in the odd way she spoke and the hollowness of her voice — she didn't sound like a child. She knew then what she had suspected — Delphini, Harry's own child, was a horcrux. It fit into place with all they had tried to put together with Voldemort's desperate search for a new vessel, the experiments, and the children. Not only did he turn his daughter into a horcrux, but Voldemort was also preparing her to become his new vessel.

"Draco... the time we followed the Death Eaters when they searched for the Gaunt squib..."

Realization dawned in Draco's eyes. "The bone taken from the Gaunt child's tomb."

When they opened Michaela Gaunt's tomb, it had been tampered with. The tomb reeked of Dark Magic. Hermione's words echoed:

Most Dark rituals require some sort of offer or sacrifice... It requires a kind of violation of nature because all power comes with a price...

When the Dark Lord regained his form, the ritual involved the bones of his father. It was possible that they had used a similar ritual to transfer and prepare Delphini's body to be a horcrux and future vessel. But looking at the black veins running delicately from her chest to her face, it was clear that the shard of Voldemort's soul and whatever else they were doing to her were too much for her body. All the children they experimented on... it was practice before using Delphini.

"She can't be much older than Scorpius. They likely knew from the beginning that Harry Potter's body was weakening and they would need a new vessel. The pureblood decree for heirs and the missing children make sense now," Draco's jaw clenched. "But any other host would have just resulted in the same thing that is happening to Harry's body now. The Dark Lord's own child would already have some bond to him, making her a more suitable vessel. And the Senex Ahas — it was for this. They had made more progress than we thought. And it makes sense. Delphini's magical core is already somewhat tied to his — in essence she is still the Dark Lord's child though sired by Harry Potter's body. She would be the perfect candidate to turn into a horcrux and, when the time comes, to use as his own vessel."

Suddenly the girl began to spasm, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Hermione caught her before she could hit the ground. Immediately she began muttering spells under her breath as Draco and Theo moved to her side.

"It's okay, you'll be okay." Hermione coaxed the girl to relax as the spells took hold. She knew however that the girl's relief would only be temporary.

Delphini stopped spasming in her arms then slowly blinked up at them with glazed eyes.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concern tainting her voice. The black veins darkened over her pale features.

The girl nodded. "Mother says I'm sick."

The three shared a look. Delphini was dying — she was in pain. Upon closer inspection, scars littered her inner forearm. Theo cursed, similarly recognizing the evidence of experimentation on her frail body.

"I thought it wouldn't be sustainable to split his soul once more?" Theo asked.

"Unless they used the split shard that was already in Harry to transfer into her. It lived and we forgot about it," Draco replied in a clipped voice.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, face still tight as she stroked the girl's face. "They must have used Harry's shard and when she was old enough, they put that piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside of her. All those times we've been following them on their search for magical devices and ingredients, all those experiments and soulless bodies, it was for her — to stabilize her body along with other kinds of experimentation I don't even want to know about. The shard is in her, but still, such unnatural Dark Magic cannot be bonded in her body properly. And the snake venom, it's gone..."

The girl continued to stare at them but her expression was vacant. It was faint but Hermione could hear her humming something under her breath.

"Delphini?"

The girl blinked, eyes now focusing on Hermione.

"Did your parents talk to you about something special happening? Maybe with your father?"

"They said I'm special," the girl replied tonelessly. "They said I will help father because he is sick too. When I'm bigger..."

They were right — Voldemort planned to take over her body when she was older. A part of Hermione had hoped that somewhere, deep down, Bellatrix and Voldemort wanted to keep their child alive. But it seemed she was just another means to attain power and immortality.

Bile rose in Hermione's throat as she exchanged glances with Theo and Draco.

"Will it stop?" Delphini asked, "The pain. Will it stop?"

Hermione hesitated. "We can try."

Draco nodded.

"I have the dagger Draco gave me, the one that should be able to cut through bonds. Theo, will it work?"

Theo examined Delphini's neck. "I can't guarantee her body will make it, but it's possible."

"We will try to help you, Delphini, is that alright?" Hermione asked.

To her surprise the girl nodded. "Okay."

Tentatively, Hermione reached out for her. She didn't miss the girl's slight flinch before she relaxed when Hermione simply brushed her hair gently. In another life, she could have been her goddaughter. Hermione knew what she had to do.

"Just relax," Hermione said quietly. "Is this okay?"

The little girl nodded, letting herself be pulled closer and unto Hermione's lap. Hermione reached into her bag with shaking hands and pulled out the dagger, goblin-wrought silver capable of cutting magical bonds.

The only sounds that followed were the soft whiz of a blade and a child's whimper. The blade sliced shallowly over her heart where the black veins stemmed from.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hermione's voice cracked, holding the little body against her. Draco immediately had his wand out, muttering healing spells where the cut was made.

"The spell is working but the wound keeps reopening," Draco cursed.

Delphini's eyes were unseeing as her mouth parted and a dark substance poured out. Hermione gasped as it grew into a large black serpent, looming above them with red eyes.

"Theo," she exhaled, shielding Delphini in her arms, "the fiendfyre..."

"Wait." It was Draco.

Draco moved in her peripheral vision before returning to them. Hermione gasped — in his hands was the sword of Gryffindor, which had been lost since the battle of Hogwarts.

Theo's eyes widened. "How — "

"The sword appears to those in need," Hermione replied, still reeling in shock.

The black substance continued to grow into a looming beast, hissing at them. Immediately, Draco was there, the sword of Gryffindor glinting in his hands. Without hesitation, he swung the blade and directly embedded it into the horcrux.

It screamed a high pitched wail and Draco threw himself around Hermione and Delphini, the sword still embedded into the horcrux.

Then it was silent. The sword clattered on the ground and the darkness disappeared. There was nothing left except the prone body of the little girl before them.

"It doesn't hurt now," Delphini whispered, a soft expression on her face. She looked more like a child now, color returning to her face, no more black veins.

"I can fix this, I can fix this," Hermione rambled. With trembling fingers, she tried once more to heal the wound on the girl's chest, tried to save her. But the wound remained open, blood continuing to flow and stain her dress.

"It's not working," Draco said, eyes perplexed.

"No, no, no." Hermione's voice was desperate. She held the child tight in her arms.

"Her body is too weak," Theo exhaled as he attempted his own spells. "There's clear signs of experimentation on her already... it's too much."

"Hermione," Draco said gently, stopping her from frantically attempting spell after spell.

"She can't — I promised — "

Draco's lips were moving and Delphini relaxed. Hermione realized he was muttering a numbing spell.

Hermione sagged in defeat.

"Shh it's going to be okay," she whispered. She thought she saw Delphini smile, slightly lopsided just like Harry's.

There was nothing she could do except hold her close. Scorpius' favorite lullaby flowed from her lips until the small body in her arms went limp.

"She's at peace now," Theo said solemnly, coming to the other side of Delphini and gently shutting her eyes. She looked relaxed as if she were asleep. "The shard would have killed her in the end."

His words didn't stop the tears falling down Hermione's face. She was just a child.

"We had no choice," Draco whispered.

Hermione sniffed, her heart hardening. She knew he was right. She knew that Delphini would have continued to live in pain until she became the Dark Lord's new vessel. And though in some way they were able to end the child's pain and destroy the final horcrux, Hermione couldn't suppress the gnawing pain growing inside of her. In the end, everyone lost in war — she already knew this. But she had had enough.

Carefully she carried the girl to bed, tucking her in.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Your father would have loved you so much and never hurt you. Maybe you'll meet him now."

After whispering her last words, she pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead.

Her face was blank and cold when she turned back to them, voice edged with a firm resolve. "Let's finish this."

***

When Draco, Hermione, and Theo exited the Riddle manor, the war was in full chaos. They had sent patronuses to Ginny and Kingsley that the horcruxes were gone and it seemed that the main battle found their way to the Riddle manor.

This was it, the final battle.

"Hello." Draco and Hermione jumped when Luna showed up by their side.

"You alright?" Draco watched in passive amusement as Theo scanned Luna, his hands checking her face and arms.

"Why, yes, Theodore," she smiled. "The allies and the rest of the Order had the upper hand on the battlefield and so the Dark Lord's forces fled back here. But the Order followed them."

Everything converged here. The allies and Order members along with the werewolves and the serpent humanoid creatures under Voldemort's control. But the Order seemed to be holding ground. In the middle of the fray, they spotted Ginny and Ron dueling Greyback.

Before Hermione could jump into battle, Draco grabbed her, his free hand cupping her jaw and pressing his lips fiercely to hers.

"Be careful," he whispered, his eyes ablaze and intense. "I love you."

"I love you too," she breathed, pushing their foreheads together. Then she was gone.

It felt like hours as Draco fought alongside the Order. But they battled on, never faltering as they took down every Death Eater and creature left standing.

"Malfoy," Ron panted as they ended up back to back against three werewolves.

"Weasley," Draco replied in acknowledgement, blasting back the werewolves without hesitation. "Watch out!"

Just in time, Draco froze a werewolf mid-leap before it reached the red-head.

"Shit, thanks," Ron said, white faced.

As they continued fighting, Draco found himself surprised that Ron wasn't the fumbling oaf he expected — the war had refined his gangly awkwardness, hardening him into an acceptable dualist. He lacked grace, but he was relentless and Draco begrudgingly respected him for it.

"Not bad, Malfoy," Ron rasped as he surveyed the stunned werewolves around them.

Draco nodded sharply, his focus narrowed in on another pack of werewolves in the near distance. Weasley made to raise his wand but Draco stopped him.

"Wait," he said. They watched as another pack of werewolves appeared and clashed with them in a gruesome battle. "They must have been able to remove the hold on some of the werewolves and now they're fighting with us."

True enough, the freed werewolves fought side by side with the Order, capturing wolves still under the Dark Lord's control by rendering them unconscious.

"Ron! Malfoy!" Ginny said, panting as she reached them. "Have you seen Hermione? I spotted Bellatrix and the Dark Lord — they seemed to be looking for her."

Draco cursed, trying to keep his panic at bay. He should be with her. He was her partner.

"He knows we got the horcruxes." Draco, along with the Weasleys, cut a path back to the mansion as they saw it rumble with angry magic.

Inside, they followed the trail of mutilated bodies — a clear sign of Bellatrix. They made their way towards a grand drawing room, guards up and ready. Once they reached the room, there in the middle, lying prone on the ground was Hermione. Bellatrix's wand was raised, a desperate fury in her eyes. And behind her, face more hollow than ever, was Voldemort.

Ginny grabbed Draco's arms before he could go after Hermione. He knew he needed to be calm — she was alive, she had to be. He could feel himself shaking, his magic clawing desperately to release itself, to wreak havoc. But Ginny hissed in warning.

Ginny signaled for him and Ron to stay back before she entered the room.

"Voldemort." Ginny's voice was clear, unafraid. Voldemort smiled eerily at her.

"How dare you say his name, you filthy — "

"Now, now Bellatrix." His words were laced with amusement but underneath it Draco could feel a foreboding anticipation. "Tell me, Ginevra Weasley, what is it like looking at your lover's face? The great Harry Potter, the world's hope, now the face of its end."

"Harry is dead," Ron spat before Draco could stop him. "You may wear his face, but the memory of Harry will live. He will always be loved and remembered for his bravery, for his goodness, for his — "

At this Voldemort laughed, a raspy sound that felt like nails against their spines.

"There was so much darkness in Harry Potter," he said, still smiling "You don't know how easy it was to invade his mind. So much anger and pain festered inside of him — from how his muggle family treated him, his desperate faith in Dumbledore who kept him in the dark, his loneliness. You fight for this world," he spat, "this world where wizards go into hiding because of muggles. His anger was a product of being raised in the muggle world where our kind are shunned even as their natural superiors. Harry Potter's death falls not on me, oh no — it is the fault of those who made him believe in goodness, in sacrifice, in being a martyr. For the greater good."

His words echoed through the room with a terrifying clarity, a truthfulness that even Draco could not deny. Hermione stirred.

"The Chosen One," he laughed. "The world does not work like fairy tales. The Order says they work on the side of goodness yet they manipulate a child so that he may one day lay himself at the altar to sacrifice himself. It was predictable. Tell me what makes Dumbledore so different from the rest of us."

"You're right," Ginny said, tears staining her face, "Dumbledore failed Harry — many of this did in so many ways by turning a blind eye to what was really going on with him back home, filling him with too much hope and asking so much of him. But I refuse to let his sacrifice be in vain. Our world can be better than this. This has to end. And I will make sure of it."

Without warning, Ginny launched herself at Voldemort and attacked. Ron joined her. At the same time, Hermione leapt to her feet, blasting a curse at Bellatrix who only had enough time to block it. Draco ran in her direction.

"I know what you did," Hermione spat, tears in her eyes. "Your own daughter? How could you?"

Bellatrix's eyes widened before contorting into fury. "What have you done?"

Hermione's hand tightened around her wand. "She was in pain and we tried to save her once we got rid of the horcrux but it was too late."

"You mudblood bitch," Bellatrix snarled. Her face contorted in clear agony, her breathing ragged. And despite all she had done, Hermione couldn't help but feel an ounce of sympathy for the woman who lost her daughter. "You will die for this."

Bellatrix didn't waste time and attacked her. Hermione would have been caught off guard, especially with an injury on her left rib if Draco hadn't immediately blocked off the spell once he reached her side.

Together, Draco and Hermione fired spell after spell, in sync with their own magic. He could feel her magic calling out to him, weaving in tandem as they backed his aunt into a corner. Bellatrix's movements were reckless and uncontrolled, fuelled by pure rage that made it easier for them to overpower her. Bellatrix's eyes widened, seeming to only then realize what she was up against. But something seemed to crack inside of her — break. She bared her teeth and aimed every ounce of her magic at them blindly.

"Come on, nephew," Bellatrix hissed, "does your runt of a son know who you really are? You've got the instinct of a Black. Some of our relatives had a taste for mudblood flesh too — liked them unwilling and bent over like whores."