After Dilly vanished with Christopher, the atmosphere in the home changed instantly. Henry walked to his wife and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
"You know I wouldn't trade a second of it for anything," he whispered. "You were the best part of my life. I remember falling for you our first day at Ilvermorny. I prayed you'd be placed in Horned Serpent with me, but you had to go and be a Thunderbird. Even then, I always found a reason to find you. You brought me out of my shell, Anna. You got me out of my own head. I have always loved you."
Anna smiled through her grief, leaning into his touch. "I remember it more like you stalked me until I caved and finally agreed to a date," she joked weakly. "But thank you... for loving me even when I was difficult. For following me on those foolish adventures that led to nowhere. For Christopher. He has so much of you in him, Henry."
Before they could say another word, the front door exploded.
Wood and stone disintegrated as Voldemort stepped over the threshold, surveying the quaint Muggle living room with a sneer of pure disdain.
"Hello. I was in the neighborhood and heard distinguished people were living here, so I thought I would make a house call," Voldemort said, his voice dripping with mock charm. "My name is Lord Voldemort. You may have heard of me."
"We know who you are and why you're here," Henry snapped, his wand snapping up with lethal precision. Anna stepped into place behind him, her own wand leveled. "I'll save you the time: we have no intention of serving you or your ilk. Now get the fuck out of my house, dickhead."
Voldemort opened his mouth to respond, but Anna didn't wait for a monologue.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The bolt of green light roared from her wand. Voldemort hissed, twisting his body with unnatural grace as the curse narrowly missed him, striking a nameless Death Eater behind him. The man dropped instantly, dead before he hit the floor.
Then, all hell broke loose.
Henry was a walking fortress. He moved with a fluidity the British wizards had never seen, weaving shield after shield, deflecting curses while simultaneously transmuting the debris into projectiles. Behind him, Anna was a storm of fire and death, firing off Killing Curses and dark hexes without hesitation.
They took out eight Death Eaters in the first five seconds.
The Death Eaters faltered, panicked. The Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix fought with stunners and binding charms; they had never encountered a couple who fought like soldiers. Voldemort stood back, watching the battle with cold, detached interest. He was waiting waiting for them to wear themselves out so he could rip their secrets from their minds.
"Kill them!" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed, her face contorted with madness as she, Rodolphus, and Rabastan rained Unforgivables upon the couple.
Henry was shaking off minor curses, his body reaching its limit, but his rage kept him upright. Anna saw a opening, levitating a group of wizards into the air before hitting them with a Bombarda Maxima. The explosion painted the walls in blood and gore.
In that moment of triumph, a well timed Crucio from the shadows hit her in the side. Anna collapsed, her body seizing.
Henry let out a roar of pure, unadulterated fury. He abandoned defense entirely, putting on a masterclass of American-styled magical combat. His spell weaving was so fluid he was casting four spells in a single breath. A cutting curse took the legs off two men; a follow up Expulso sent three more flying through the front of the house.
He forced the elite of the Death Eaters to pull back. He just needed to reach Anna. If he could get her out if he could just get her to the edge of the wards maybe she could survive.
"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort said calmly, as if stating a simple fact.
The green light struck Anna just as Henry's fingers brushed her shoulder. For Henry, time stopped.
"Anna?" he choked out. "Anna, wake up!"
The Death Eaters began to laugh, a cruel, jagged sound.
"What a waste," Voldemort said smugly, stepping over a pile of his own dead followers. "This could have been avoided if you had simply bent the knee. We could have done so much together."
Henry didn't look up. He leaned down and kissed his wife's cooling lips one last time. "I'll see you soon," he whispered.
He stood up and faced the Dark Lord. He didn't scream. He didn't beg. He laughed a low, wet, terrifying sound that made even Bellatrix pause.
"You think... you've won?"
Henry dropped his wand. It clattered uselessly on the floor. He reached inward, past his magic, past his mind, and into the very core of his soul. He grabbed every ounce of his life force, his love for Anna, and his hope for Christopher, and he crushed it into a single, impossible point.
His skin began to crack like parched earth. Silver white light leaked from the fissures in his flesh. The air began to vibrate so violently that the glass in the remaining windows turned to fine sand.
Then came the dome. A silent, incandescent explosion of white-gold light expanded from his heart. It didn't push the world away it erased it.
Everything within thirty feet, the house, the debris, the screaming Death Eaters simply ceased to exist.
When the light finally faded, a perfect, glass-lined pit sat where the home had been. Parts of the neighboring houses were sheared off as if by a giant blade. Voldemort and the few Death Eaters fast enough to apparate stood blocks away, staring at the void. Their numbers had been cut to less than twenty. Merlin's heir was gone, and he had taken a part of the Dark Lord's army with him.
Miles away, in a small castle on the northern British coast known as Merlin's Refuge, Dilly fell to her knees. She felt it the moment her masters died. It was as if a piece of her own soul had been ripped away.
She looked at young Christopher. He was still holding her hand, sobbing quietly, his three-year-old mind shattered by confusion and fear. Dilly knew she had to be strong. She had begged them to come here sooner, but they had wanted him to have a "normal" life for just a little longer. That mistake had cost them everything.
Dilly looked at the ancient stone walls of the Refuge. She would not make that mistake again. Here, in the shadow of Merlin's own towers, she would raise a King.