Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

“NO!” Frank screamed. He lunged toward the dementors and lashed out, just as Harry pulled out his wand, and, concentrating deeply, yelled, “Expecto Potranum!” The exact moment Frank tackled the dementors, resulting in a cold, deadly sensation rippling throughout his body, a giant silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry’s wand. The dementors backed off, and dropping Joe heavily on the ground, shied away from the stag and disappeared into the shadows. The Potranus then disappeared.

“Idiot boys!” Voldemort snapped.

Laura wanted desperately to get to her son lying unmoving and bound on the floor, but Fenton wouldn’t let her. “No, Laura,” he said, putting his arm around her. “It’s too dangerous. We’ll get Joe.”

Dumbledore walked menacingly toward Voldemort. “Tom,” he said. “Let the boy go. He has done nothing.”

As Joe started to stir, Voldemort walked calmly over to him and yanked him up. Joe, who had been sliding in and out of consciousness for quite some time, looked around, dazed. “Fine,” Voldemort hissed as Joe made a clumsy attempt to break free from the villain holding him. “I did promise young Joseph here a chance to fight…to see if he really has powers.” He looked at Joe in mock sympathy. “However,” he said, an evil smile forming at the corners of his mouth, “he seems to be a bit weak for that, don’t you think, Fenton?”

The boy’s father glared at the captor. “Voldemort,” he said. “Leave my son out of this.”

Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He strode forward defiantly, fear and determination coursing through his entire being. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Leave Joe out of this. This isn’t his battle. It’s not Fenton’s battle. It’s not even Professor Dumbledore’s battle. This is our battle. The prophecy reads that either I shall kill you or you me. Not that you and Fenton will kill me together.”

“Shut up, you brat!” Voldemort said, dropping Joe and pulling out his wand, advancing on Harry like a cat would a mouse.

“Fenton, do something!” Laura pleaded, looking at Harry and Voldemort, facing one another.

“He can do nothing, Laura,” Dumbledore said quietly. “And neither can I. Harry is right. His wisdom tonight is far beyond his years. It is his battle.”

“But he can’t—” Laura began, disbelieving.

“He can try,” Dumbledore said.

“Laura, if things get too bad, we’ll jump in. We’ll do anything to protect Harry. But right now, this is his time to shine. His battle.”

Harry glared at Voldemort. “So. He killed your daughter. What a way to kill two kids with one wand, right? Kidnap him, then use him as a ‘ransom’ against his father to kill me. You are more a coward than I’d ever thought.”

“Coward?” Voldemort spat.

“Coward?” Fenton groaned. “The boy is foolish. Come, Albus, before he does something worse.”

“No,” Dumbledore said simply. “The battle is his, and he shall fight it the way he feels fit.”

“But we’ve gotta do something to help him!” Frank said. Hermione, Ron, and Chet agreed.

“I think I know how!” Hermione said. She motioned the others closer to her. The adults were caught up in their own conversations and didn’t notice, although Frank was almost positive he saw Dumbledore glance in their direction and then look away quickly. But he couldn’t be sure.

“How?” Frank said.

“Whatever we can do to help Harry and Joe, I’m in!” Chet declared.

“Wonderful! Now…we all know that Harry lived because of his mother’s love. What if…what if we all concentrate on love…not just the sentiment or the feeling—but the very being of love. What if it makes Voldemort more vulnerable? Or Harry stronger? Either way, it’s worth a shot.”

Frank was doubtful, but would try anything to save his brother and Harry. “I’m in.”

“I guess so,” Ron said, glancing at Hermione.

“I’m so in,” Chet agreed. They all stepped forward. Laura lunged forward to stop them, but was held back by Dumbledore.

“Let them go,” he said simply.

The four friends gathered around Harry, who was holding his own wand in front of him. His hand was shaking in fear, and Voldemort was saying, “Five years you’ve escaped me, Potter. And if Fenton isn’t going to help…I shall dispose of you myself, then kill all these fools!”

Harry saw his friends and hissed, “What’re you doing?”

“Helping,” Frank said simply. Frank thought of his parents, his girlfriend, and Joe. He thought of the love he had for them and how he would give his life in a heartbeat if it would save any of them. Chet thought of his family and friends…and Iola. He concentrated fully on her, how much he loved her, how much he missed her. Hermione thought of her parents, loved ones, and, somehow, Ron kept slipping into her mind, although, at the time being, she couldn’t fathom why. Ron thought of his parents and brothers and sister, of his friends…and Hermione.

“And now, Harry Potter, you shall die!” Voldemort said, and aimed his wand at Harry’s heart. Harry, before Voldemort could say anything, roared, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

With a flash of green light and a surge of energy and emotion passing through Harry’s body, Voldemort yelled in surprise, then crumpled. All stared in disbelief as Harry fell to his knees in shock, disbelief, and relief. Suddenly all was chaos: Voldemort’s allies making a break for it, all the teens screaming and jumping and hugging him, the adults doing the same, tears streaming down their faces. “You’re a hero, Harry, a hero!” Hermione kept saying as she threw her arms around him.

Harry, still numb with disbelief, said, “No, we all are. Is he…really gone?”

A strangled cheer came from the floor and Frank felt sick. In all the excitement, he had nearly forgotten about Joe!

Instantly the boy was surrounded by the entire group. “Joe!” Frank said, then, remembering their last encounter, looked at his brother’s wounded shoulder and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Joe. I wasn’t in control of my body…I couldn’t help it.”

As the dazed boy was freed, Joe said weakly, “You must be Harry Potter.”

“And you the famous Joe Hardy,” Harry said, grinning. “Nice to finally meet you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding me.”

“Sorry,” Joe feebly quipped back, “I was unavoidably detained.

“Son,” Fenton said when Joe was free, pulling him into the biggest hug the boy had ever encountered in his life, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Sore. Weak. Hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Other than that, I’m perfectly fine.”

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.