The Time of Destiny

Chapter 30 - The Time of Destiny

"Time? Now?" Harry said, gulping hard.

"Not this minute. But later on today, I believe. That's why I need to go and do some research, get reports from certain people, and look at things for myself."

Harry steeled himself. "I'm ready. Where are we going?"

"I'll let you know when I know, dear boy," Dumbledore assured him.

"And the D.A.?"

"I'm going to enlist the aid of the Aurors as well as Order members. But yes, I believe we'll need the D.A. as well," Dumbledore replied. "We'll need Fred -"

"What are you talking about?" Molly asked suddenly, interrupting their quiet conversation. "What do you need Fred for?"

The old wizard turned to face her. "I will see how George is, and if he's well enough to travel, I will bring both him and Fred back with me. You and Tonks can stay here and look after George. I will need Fred to keep the Flying Squad supplied with bombs."

"Bombs?" she said, her face paling suddenly. "You're not taking my children into battle! I've just lost one son and nearly lost another! I won't let them go, do you hear me? NO!"

"Molly, dear," Arthur said sadly, "they're all adults now. They will make their own decisions. And they're far better trained than many other fighters."

"Ginny's not of age! She's not going!" Molly cried. "And Fred . . . you can't take Fred, he's still upset about George! And Ron . . . you can't take Ron! Or Bill! Or Charlie! Or Arthur!" By this time, she was hysterical, crying so hard her words were nearly unintelligible.

"Molly!" Dumbledore commanded. "Look at me!" She raised her head and he pointed his wand at her, doing a powerful Calming Charm. She calmed immediately, but still sniffled. "I know you've been through a tremendous ordeal, but you simply cannot fall apart now. I'm sorry to do a Cheering Charm on you without your permission, but time is of the essence here. Voldemort has made a tremendous tactical error by sending so many Death Eaters after Harry's dearest friends to punish him for what happened today."

"Why did he do all this?" Charlie said in confusion.

"Didn't Harry tell you about our meeting in my office this morning with the Ministry of Magic's Cabinet?" He saw nods all around, along with many confused looks. "Perhaps he didn't include all the details." He looked at Harry, who shrugged and hung his head. "It's all right, lad. You've done very well. Don't worry about it. I'll fill in the blanks." Harry glanced up and nodded, and Dumbledore went on.

"During the meeting, which Harry attended at my insistence, Harry identified three Death Eaters who were long-time members of Fudge's Cabinet and were held over into Madam Bones's Cabinet. They were summarily dismissed, their memories of all classified information erased, and then were sent back to London to clean out their desks. Others who were left over from Fudge's administration, but were not Death Eaters, were also dismissed because they've been so disruptive and have caused so much trouble. Percy was also dismissed - I'm sure Harry told you the details of that part, right? The Imperius Curse and all that?" He saw nods all around. "Right, then. Losing those Cabinet members and Percy himself was a tremendous blow to Voldemort's ability to collect information, to stay three steps ahead of the Ministry as he's done all along. Harry did us all a tremendous service by identifying the Death Eaters and helping Minister Bones clean out her Cabinet."

He raised a placating hand as Ron started to speak. "I don't know why the Ministry didn't simply make everyone push up their sleeves, Ron. I'm sorry I can't answer that. That's what you were going to ask, yes?" Ron nodded, his face grim and angry. "It's possible they have done such things in the past, but with more warning than Harry gave them today, the Death Eaters would have had time to cast a Glamour Charm to cover up the Dark Mark. Whatever the case, Voldemort sent Death Eaters into battle in several locations today that happened to be full of Aurors. He attacked Diagon Alley, trying to get to the twins, but, thanks to Harry's vision, we'd already alerted the Aurors that such a thing might happen, and Tonks and others were on their way to bring the twins to safety. As a result, many of Voldemort's forces were killed or captured. Then a band of Death Eaters attacked the hospital, which happened to be full of Aurors as a result of the attack in Diagon Alley. More of the enemy were killed or captured there. And some, or perhaps all of the unidentified Death Eaters on the hospital staff were killed or captured during tonight's attack.

"We have a fairly good idea of how many followers Voldemort has at his disposal. Once I learn how many have been killed or captured today, I'll have a better idea of what we'll face later. But Harry's identifying the Dementors' pattern, so that nearly every Dementor was captured before their next attack, and these Death Eaters being captured or killed in these battles, greatly depletes Voldemort's resources. This is the time to hit him, when he has fewer allies to call on. The giants and trolls are out of the picture. There are only Death Eaters and a very few free Dementors to deal with, and the number of Death Eaters is now greatly diminished. We have a very good chance of finally succeeding.

"Harry is ready. He's worked hard all year and knows spells I'd never even heard of before he started learning them. He has a plan of action. He and I have practiced fighting together many times. I will fight at his side. We will succeed this time, I feel it in my bones." He glanced around at the uncertain faces of Bill, Charlie and Arthur Weasley, at the frightened but determined faces of Ron, Hermione and Ginny, at Remus and Tonks who wore equally worried expressions, at Molly, who looked dazed, and, finally, at Harry.

Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter, he of the intelligent green eyes, impish grin and rosy cheeks, who bore the burden of destroying Voldemort for everyone in the wizarding world, sat with his shoulders slumped, his head hanging, his hands hanging limp between his knees, the very picture of despair. As the people who loved him watched, the young man clenched his fists, shook his head furiously and then looked up, the light of battle burning in his eyes. He straightened his shoulders, his face resolute, his entire body vibrating with fierce energy. "It ends today. And after that - either way, I'm free," he growled.

"Yes, dear boy, you will be free," Dumbledore promised softly, understanding what Harry was saying, and how much this idea meant to him.

Everyone stared at Harry, all but the still-dazed Molly suddenly aware that he knew he might die, but that he was ready to die if he must to destroy his nemesis. The silence was palpable as all of those in the room pondered the coming battle and what it would mean for Harry, for the others in the room, and for each of them individually.

Tears slid down Ginny's cheeks. She'd known for months now that Harry was steeling himself to lay his life on the line deliberately this time. Every time he'd faced Voldemort before, he'd had to fight for his life and his main concern had been survival. But he was tired of the threat hanging over his and everyone else's life and he knew that he was the one who had to resolve things, one way or the other. That's why he was taking the battle to Voldemort, rather than waiting to be captured once more. Without him saying a word about it, those who knew and loved him best understood, and also knew that there was no way to keep him from this destiny that fate had set for him.

Ginny did her best to stay quiet, not even sniffling. She wouldn't do anything to get in Harry's way. That would just put him in danger as he tried to protect her while still trying to kill his enemy. She'd fight by his side when he would accept such help, but she would not, could not distract him from his mission. The best thing she could do for him was to love him for however long she had him. She took in a shuddering breath and blew it out quietly, steeling herself for the battle she had ahead of her.

Dumbledore let them think for a few minutes then stood up and pulled several small crystal vials out of his pocket. He moved to the table where he'd set the potions Shacklebolt had brought from St. Mungo's when he came upstairs and began pouring a dose in each vial. He handed one to each of his students, then to Remus, Bill, Charlie, Arthur and Molly. "You have all had a horrible day. I'm giving you a strong dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion. You must take it. When you wake up, I will be back with information and a plan in place. Do not fail me in this. You must be well-rested to face the day ahead." He turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, when we return from the battle, I will send Aurors with you to help you with the arrangements necessary for your parents. I'm sorry there's no time to deal with it before then."

"They can wait," she said, her eyes hard and fierce as she straightened her shoulders defiantly. "I want to fight. I've been training for this for years. I'm not going to let Harry down now!" She stopped for a moment, then gulped and choked back a sob. Taking a deep breath, she ground her teeth and growled, "Those bastards killed my parents! I'll do whatever I can to avenge them. Those . . . those other things can be dealt with later." Still struggling with overwhelming grief, she looked at Ron, at Ginny, and finally at Harry. He gazed into her eyes with sad determination and gave her a slight nod. She nodded back, just a slight acknowledgement, but one that strengthened her somehow. She turned her eyes back to Dumbledore, much calmer after her outburst.

"Good girl," he said approvingly. "Off you go. Get to bed first, then take your potion. I gave you each a strong enough dose that it will drop you in your tracks if you take it while you're still on your feet. Good night."

Everyone left the Weasley parents' room and went in their various directions. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione waited until Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and Kingsley had gone downstairs, saying "goodnight" as they passed. The hallway finally empty, Harry pulled Ginny into his arms, as Ron did with Hermione, to kiss her goodnight.

"Wait - you're not leaving me in there alone, are you?" Hermione said to Ron. "I can't sleep without you! I need . . . I need . . . ." Tears began streaming down her face again.

"I know," Ron said, holding her close.

"And I forgot - you've lost Percy! Oh, I'm such an idiot!" she said, crying harder.

"No, you're not. Stop that," he said, gently wiping the tears off of her face.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said, burying her face in his chest. "I just can't bear it."

"You won't know what hit you after that potion takes effect," Ron assured her, smoothing her unruly curls and rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Please . . . please don't leave me alone!" she sobbed.

Harry and Ginny were snogging quite seriously. They couldn't seem to let each other go. Ron looked at them for a minute, then said, "Harry?"

Harry gently, reluctantly pulled back from Ginny, kissing the tip of her nose, then resting his cheek on top of her head, keeping her enfolded closely in his arms. "Yeah?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron said uncertainly.

"What I reckon," Harry said slowly as he gazed deeply into Ginny's eyes, "is that I want to celebrate life a bit before taking that potion."

"Celebrate life?" Ron said, a slow smile crossing his face.

"Yeah. We've had a horrible day. People we care about have . . . well, I just think . . ." Harry said, suddenly unable to articulate what he was feeling.

"That we need to celebrate still being alive," Ginny finished for him.

"Yes," he said, rocking her in his arms. "That's it exactly."

"It's already nearly five o'clock," Ron said, glancing at his watch.

"See you in an hour, then," Harry said, leading Ginny to his and Ron's room.

"Got it," Ron replied seriously. "An hour." He led Hermione into the girls' room and closed the door behind him, remembering to add the Impervious Charm as well as the Colloportus and Silencing Charm.

"What . . .?" Hermione said in confusion as Ron pulled her into his arms. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to remind you how good it is to be alive," he said gruffly as he nuzzled her neck. "Harry and Ginny are right. We need to celebrate life right now. Come on." He swept her up into his arms and deposited her gently on the bed, then began slowly, tantalizingly undressing her. He nibbled and kissed his way down her neck as his hands busily divested her of her clothes. Ron suddenly noticed that she didn't seem to be responding much. Troubled, he leaned on one elbow and looked at her seriously. "If you don't want to--"

"No, that felt so good!" she said, tears still in her eyes, lifting her arms to reach for him. "I need you, Ron. Please."

"Are you sure?" he said seriously. "I thought it might help you feel better."

"Yes, please, yes," she said, embracing him tightly. "I don't want to think. I just want to feel safe in your arms."

"OK," he said hoarsely, his heart aching for her grief over her terrible loss, and for his lost brother, as well. He needed this as much as she did. Slowly, tenderly, he made love to her, celebrating life in the best possible way as they reminded each other how good it was to be alive and in love.

* * * * *

Harry and Ginny started pulling each other's clothes off with unusual roughness as soon as the spells were on the locked door. They fell on Harry's bed together, making love urgently, frantically, as if they'd never have the chance again - which was the thought in the back of both of their minds. As they lay together afterwards, their arms and legs still in a tangle, Harry tipped Ginny's chin up so he could look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured miserably. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--"

Ginny put her fingers gently on his lips. "No, baby, I didn't either. That was . . . it was . . . amazing, but I like the normal way we do it better."

"Shall we have another go, then?" he said tenderly, lacing his fingers in her thick hair and lifting her face to his for a long, lingering kiss.

"Mmm, yes, please," she breathed into his mouth between kisses. She rolled on top of him, her hair curtaining their faces, and explored the depths of his mouth while enjoying the feeling of his hands on her back, her bum, her breasts.

Harry flipped her onto her back and continued his more leisurely explorations of her anatomy. "You taste good," he chuckled as he nibbled on her ear lobe.

"Mmm, you too," she murmured, kissing the heavy muscles of his shoulder. "I feel so safe here."

"In this house?" he asked as he paid careful attention to each beautiful breast.

"In your arms, silly," she chided him. She tangled her fingers in his hair, relishing the soft silkiness of it, the warmth of his body over hers, the feeling of skin against skin, the steady, strong beat of his heart as his chest pressed against hers. Thoughts of her lost brother tried to surface in her mind and she forced them back, concentrating on Harry and the fact that he was here, he was alive, he loved her and was loving her. She couldn't allow her thoughts to go any further. Tears began to escape her control.

"What's wrong, baby?" Harry asked in concern when he noticed her tension. "Am I hurting you?"

"No! Please don't stop," she begged. "Please, Harry. Love me."

"I do love you," he said, going back to doing his best to make her forget the things that were troubling her.

Soon they lay, sweaty, exhausted and comforted, holding each other closely. "That did help, love," Ginny said, running her hand over the well-defined muscles of his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Mmmm, thank you," he said sleepily. He raised his arm to lay it across his eyes and his watch caught his attention. "Bloody hell."

"Time to go?"

"Yes."

"OK," she said, reluctantly getting to her feet, picking up her clothes and dressing. When she was dressed, she looked at him, her heart in her eyes as she gazed at him sitting on the side of the bed. "I can't."

"You can't what?" he said, getting up and pulling her into his arms.

Ginny began crying. "I can't bear the thought of being alone tonight."

"Hermione will be there," he assured her.

"Please, can't you just sleep with me in there? Then Ron can stay with Hermione, and we won't have to be alone," she begged.

"We'll all be sound asleep from the potion," he said reasonably. "We won't know who's in the room."

"Please, Harry," she insisted.

Harry thought about it a moment. "All right. If your mum decides to skin us for it, at least she'll have to skin all four of us," he said with an attempt at his usual cheeky grin. He got dressed quickly and they crossed the hall, removing the spells on their door before they left the room. Harry tapped quietly on the door to the girls' room, hoping Ron and Hermione weren't still busy.

"Be right there," Ron's deep voice rumbled. They heard some movement in the room and muttered incantations as Ron removed the spells. The door opened, revealing Hermione already sound asleep and Ron dressed, ready to go to bed in his own room. "What's up?" he said, surprised to see both Ginny and Harry at the door.

"Ginny wants me to stay with her," Harry explained. "D'you think you can bear to sleep in Hermione's bed?" He grinned.

"Yeah! No problem," Ron agreed, moving back into the room. He started to put the spells back on the door.

"No spells," Harry said. "We need to look as innocent as possible, right?"

Ron blushed and chuckled. "Yeah, right!" he agreed, then climbed into bed with Hermione. He put his arm around her and pulled her head onto his shoulder. "Ah, this is the life," he murmured as he settled in.

"You're right," Harry said as he and Ginny settled in.

"Time for your potion, Mr. Potter," Ginny said, handing him his flagon.

"Ladies first!" he offered, teasing her.

"Nope. I don't trust you! I will watch you take that potion, swallow it and go to sleep, and then I'll take mine!" she said, giving him her best evil eye. "If I take mine and go to sleep, you're liable to stay up making plans or go off somewhere by yourself to do Merlin knows what."

Harry looked highly offended. "Who, me? You're wounding me, woman!" He grinned and kissed her. "You know me too well, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Take your potion!"

"As you wish, m'lady," he said softly, then kissed her on the nose, raised his flagon to Ron and said, "Cheers!" and downed it in one gulp. He fell back against the pillows, just awake enough to hand Ginny the empty flagon before his hand dropped to his chest and he started softly snoring.

"Good one, Gin," Ron commented.

"Thank you. Now you!" she insisted.

"Together, then?" he countered.

"All right. Good night, Ron."

"Good night, little sister. Cheers!" With that, they both drank their potions and were quickly sound asleep.

* * * * *

"The boys are gone!" Molly cried in a panic several hours later, rushing downstairs. "They're gone! They're not in their room!"

"Relax, Molly," Mad-Eye said calmly. "They're in the girls' room."

"What?" she cried, then raced back up the stairs.

"Molly! Stop!" Dumbledore said sternly.

"Those children--" she began indignantly, stopping halfway up the stairs.

"Are adults," Dumbledore reminded her, "and very responsible people. The girls were distraught. I imagine they didn't want to be alone. Let them rest. They don't need to be up for a while yet."

"They're fine, Molly," Mad-Eye added with a smile. "I've kept the shifty on them from time to time. They haven't moved for hours." When Molly turned her back, Mad-Eye winked at Remus, who smiled a bit in response.

"Let's have some breakfast," Dumbledore said serenely. "Dobby and Winky have outdone themselves this morning." He made certain Molly went to the kitchen with the rest of them and stayed there, so the young people's rest would not be disturbed.

* * * * *

It was nearly lunch time when the four students finally woke up. Hermione woke first, since she'd taken her potion first. She stretched luxuriously, then nestled her head back in Ron's chest. He wrapped his arm around her as if it was an automatic thing - as if her head on his chest signalled his arm to embrace her. She sighed happily. Was there a better pillow in the world? She didn't think so. She didn't know how or why he'd decided to stay the whole night with her, but she was glad he had.

Hermione smiled as she looked up at his sleeping face. His mouth was slightly open, soft snores rattling in the back of his throat, his long, pale, red-gold lashes just barely visible against his skin. She pushed his ginger hair away from his eyes, then cupped his cheek in her hand, enjoying the prickliness of his beard stubble. They'd been friends forever. She couldn't really say when it was she began to love him, but now she couldn't imagine loving anyone else. She'd made mistakes in the past, but she was determined that she wouldn't make any more horribly bad decisions in her relationship with Ron. He was the love of her life, she was sure of it now. He'd loved her through the worst pain of her life, even though he had to be in similar pain from losing his brother, yet somehow he'd managed to make her feel better. Was there a sweeter, kinder man in the world? She raised up on her elbow and kissed him, loving the vulnerability of him as he slept, and savouring the delicious feeling when he began to wake up and kiss her back.

"Good morning," she said when he opened his eyes.

"Mmmfph," he mumbled, then closed his eyes again, making Hermione laugh. She heard an amused answering chuckle and looked up to see Harry watching her.

"Hi. How are you?" he said quietly. Ginny was still asleep, cuddled up tight against his side, her head nestled snugly in the crook of his shoulder.

"Better, thanks," she said honestly. "You?"

"Better," he said. He looked down at Ginny, her sweet face soft and young-looking in sleep, her russet lashes a rich contrast with her ivory skin. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her, loving the feeling of waking up next to her. He raised his eyes to Hermione again. "I could get used to this quite easily," he said with a tender smile.

"Yeah, me too, but it would be nice if we had separate rooms," she teased.

"Yeah," he agreed.

Someone tapped at the door. Hermione and Harry exchanged panicked looks. Hermione cleared her throat, poked at Ron a bit trying to wake him up, and said, "Come in."

"Are you lot all right?" Molly asked anxiously. "Albus told me not to bother you, but I thought I heard voices just now. . . ." She looked from one bed to the other and sighed. "I suppose it never occurred to you that you girls could share one bed, the boys another?"

"That would have defeated the purpose of staying together," Hermione said with a tremulous smile.

"Which was?" Molly said suspiciously.

"We didn't want to sleep alone, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said simply, her eyes dark and sad. "I needed Ron to hold me. I couldn't bear it otherwise, and Ginny--" Her voice faded away. She didn't know what to say.

"I know you're all grieving." Molly said sadly. She sighed, determined not to cry again. She'd wept enough for now. It was time to be strong. "I slept on Arthur's shoulder all night too," she said sympathetically. She forced herself to speak in a brighter way. "It's nearly lunch time. Are those lazy Weasleys going to wake up soon?"

"Ron's trying to," Hermione said, smiling at him fondly. She nudged his shoulder and he snorted and swatted half-heartedly at her hand.

"Ginny's still sound asleep," Harry said after shaking her shoulders a bit to try to wake her. "She had the same dose as the rest of us, but she's so much smaller, maybe she should have had less."

Molly sat on the edge of the bed and reached across Harry to cup her daughter's cheek in her hand, stroking her thumb gently across its soft surface. "Ginny? Wake up, dear. It's time to get up. Come on, lazybones! Wake up!"

Ginny began to stir, finally opening her eyes and stretching. She started, her eyes flying open in horror when she realized her mother was right there sitting on the bed, leaning across her boyfriend's reclining body to reach her. "Mum! What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is an apparent lapse in judgement in you four," Molly chided them gently, "but given the circumstances, I'll forgive it - this once."

Ginny stared at her mum with huge eyes and nodded mutely. Ron was awake by now as well. His sleepy blue eyes peeped out from behind the fall of his ginger hair. "Do I smell food?" he said, brightening visibly.

"Yes, you do. Get up now, all of you. We're holding lunch for you," Molly said, then got up and walked to the door. She looked at both boys expectantly. "Well?"

"We're coming," Ron said, struggling out of bed, still half-asleep. Harry got up, put on his glasses and slid his feet into his trainers. All four of them had slept in their school clothes.

"Your clothes are a sight. It's a good thing Minerva sent your trunks. Yours are in your room, boys. Girls, yours are just outside."

"We'll bring them in for you," Harry offered, going into the hall and lifting Ginny's trunk easily. Ron followed suit with Hermione's trunk.

* * * * *

When the four young people arrived in the kitchen, they found food piled high at one end, and the rest of the table taken up with maps, notes, diagrams and parchments of various kinds. Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Remus, Tonks and all the older Weasley men were bent over the map and listening to Dumbledore.

"Ah, there you are!" Dumbledore said with a smile when he noticed Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. "Did you sleep well?" His eyes twinkled as he asked this.

"Yes, thanks," Harry replied, blushing at look in the headmaster's eye. He grabbed a sandwich and stood by his mentor, his attitude all business. "What's all this?"

"We have a location for Voldemort's new headquarters," Dumbledore said. "His forces, as we surmised, are rather low at present. This will be the perfect time to take the battle to him." He looked at Harry seriously. "That's what you said you wanted to do."

"Yes. I don't want him in control of the situation this time," Harry agreed sombrely. "What's the plan?"

"We needed Ron here to get things sorted," Dumbledore said. Ron's posture suddenly straightened and he leaned in to study the map. "Ron, we need to decide how to use the Aurors and Order members. Madam Bones is already gathering the Aurors. We only have to tell them when and where to meet us. What's your plan?"

"Aurors have experience at getting people to come out of hiding places, don't they?" Ron asked Kingsley, who nodded. "Then I think the Aurors should be the first to attack." He stopped and thought a minute. "Wait a minute. Did you say you were going to bring Fred here?" he asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, I'll be bringing him and George both shortly. George needed a bit more time in the hospital before he could be released, but he's doing quite well now."

Ron and Ginny both sighed with relief. "That's good to hear," Ron said, smiling a bit. "OK, if we'll have Fred with us, here's what I'd like to do."

* * * * *

An hour later, Merlin flashed Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Remus and Dumbledore back to Hogwarts. Ron assembled the D.A. and gave them their orders. Merlin was sent to Remus's home to retrieve the Firebolt Harry had given him. Harry and Ron talked quietly with D.A. members while waiting for Dumbledore to pass out Portkeys that would take them to a vantage point near the house where Voldemort was holed up. Hermione helped Ginny with the medical packs the Healer Squad members would be carrying.

"Right, then, you lot. Pay attention," Ron said when Dumbledore returned with the Portkeys in hand. As the Portkeys were passed out among the D.A. members, Ron continued, "We will arrive about half a mile from the target area. We will be meeting Aurors and Order members there. Try to remember what they look like so you don't hex the wrong people, all right?"

"We have an operative inside the house who will come out and give us a signal to assure us that Voldemort is, indeed, inside," Dumbledore said. "Please don't shoot our operative. You will know him when you see him."

Ron spoke again. "Once that operative is away from the house, the Flying Squad," he nodded toward Madam Hooch and her group of fliers, "will bomb the house. Fred will meet us there with a supply of bombs for you, so load up as soon as you see him. Those who come out of the house will be attacked by Aurors, who will surround the house and be the first wave of attack. D.A., we will be held in reserve and will attack only when I tell you to. Listen for my signal and don't do anything until you hear it! Pay attention to Harry. When you see him engaging Voldemort--"

"CLEAR AWAY!" the D.A. chanted.

"Right," Ron said with satisfaction. "You know your assignments. Good hunting! Today we end this war!"

* * * * *

Just outside the peaceful little village of Wimbish Green in Cambridgeshire, a lonely house stood on a hill. It had been abandoned many years before. Its shutters hung crooked and broken, its windows blank eyes in a ravaged face. Something was odd about the air around the house. It seemed to shimmer at times with a weird, greenish light. Strange sounds could be heard coming from it at times. The locals had long since considered it haunted and stayed away from it as a result, but lately, it truly did seem to exude an otherworldly feeling.

Across the wide meadow from this house stood a lovely old-growth forest. The quiet peacefulness of the forest was suddenly disturbed by the appearance of warriors ready to face the battle of all battles. Aurors, Order members and D.A. members mingled and learned to recognize each other as the Flying Squad loaded their bags with bombs.

"Wait a minute," Auror Dawlish whinged when he was told Ron would be directing the battle. "We're takin' orders from kids?"

Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office, gave him a stern look. "I've gone over the plans with Dumbledore, Weasley and Potter. They should work quite well. Ron Weasley and the Granger girl will do aerial surveillance and pass intelligence to us on the ground," he growled. "Having them in the air leaves more of us available to fight on the ground. I'm in charge of you lot. Just do what you've been trained to do, when I tell you to do it, and you'll be fine."

Dawlish subsided with a grumble to his mates.

"I heard that, Dawlish," Scrimgeour growled. "Step out of line and I'll hex you myself." With that, the grumbling subsided.

Fred Weasley looked haggard and exhausted, but was at his manic best, passing out bombs and advice with cheeky aplomb. Madam Hooch gathered her Flying Squad and made sure they were all fully loaded and prepared for the task ahead.

"I'm going with you," Fred announced. "I have a special treat for those blokes. When you need to reload, pop back here and help yourselves. Just be careful. The bombs with the red stripe are particularly touchy. Don't go bouncing them around any more than you have to, OK?" He received nods all around.

"Is everyone ready?" Dumbledore said quietly when he joined Harry and Remus at the edge of the woods.

"Yes, as ready as we can be," Harry said, glancing at his headmaster. "You look tired. Did you sleep at all?"

"I napped a bit, yes," he assured his apprentice. "I don't seem to need as much sleep as you youngsters," he added with a smile. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I want to get this over with," Harry said grimly.

"Me too," Dumbledore agreed.

"You'll get no argument from me, either," Remus said, smiling grimly at them and giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze.

"Wait. Someone's coming out," Harry breathed. "It's Snape!"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied quietly. As they watched, Snape stretched his arms above him as if he'd just awakened from a nap, then walked toward the distant village with an unhurried stride.

"That's the signal. Time for the Flying Squad and Aurors to go," Dumbledore said.

Harry turned and noticed that Ron had seen Snape's signal himself and was getting the troops moving.

Moments later, the Flying Squad was circling the house, two ranks deep, one above the other. On Madam Hooch's signal, they tossed their first load of bombs through the windows and down the chimneys. The house shuddered with the concussion of all the bombs going off at nearly the same moment. The Flying Squad flew higher, getting out of range of any potential spell fire and the gas Fred was about to drop into the house in his "special delivery" bomb, which he threw through the biggest first floor window. Green smoke spilled out of the windows and people poured out of every opening in the house as Fred's Lethal-Version Garrotting Gas Bomb went off, killing or disabling those who were closest to it.

The Aurors surrounding the house began capturing or killing the escapees. The fighting became nasty as the Death Eaters who had been at a distance from the Garrotting Gas bomb got a breath of fresh air and began fighting in earnest. Suddenly, more Death Eaters Apparated into the clearing, joining the fighting with a will. The Order members went forward to reinforce the Aurors, who were now outnumbered. The D.A. stayed in the trees, waiting nervously for the order to advance. Ron and Hermione soared above the battle, sending information to the Aurors and Order members as they saw battle lines weakening or a need for reinforcements at various points.

The Flying Squad wheeled overhead, dropping missiles on Death Eaters as carefully as they could to avoid hitting their own forces. Some Death Eaters broke away from the wand-to-wand combat on the ground and began attacking the fliers. Madam Hooch zoomed beneath her fliers, urging them higher, rushing to the fringes of the fighting to bring back some who had strayed too far away from the squad in the heat of battle. Two Death Eaters aimed spells at Madam Hooch that looked like purple flame. She fell silently from her broom and landed in the midst of the battling forces on the ground. Someone shot a green spell at her and she moved no more.

The Flying Squad clustered around Fred, who had no real desire to lead them, but saw no other choice.

"Right. Do you still have ammo, or do you need to reload?" he asked the white-faced students around him. "Come on, then, let's go and reload." When they neither answered nor followed him, Fred became uncharacteristically stern. "This is not the time to lose it! Madam Hooch would want you to keep fighting until the battle's won! Let's go!" They shook themselves out of their shock and followed him back to the woods where their supplies waited for them. While the students were filling their bags, Fred sent an Adfero to Dumbledore and Ron.

"We lost Madam Hooch," Fred said in his message. "They shot her off her broom. I think she's dead. The Flying Squad has lost heart, but we're going back in anyway."

"I saw it," Ron responded. "Keep them moving. Make sure those who are injured get treatment."

"Right," Fred returned.

Dumbledore sighed when he heard the news about Madam Hooch. She'd offered to help the D.A. after learning she'd been responsible for turning the Snitch into a Portkey that took Harry to Voldemort in the previous term's final game. She'd been placed under the Imperius Curse by Bellatrix Lestrange. She felt quite guilty over nearly causing Harry's death, and being the inadvertent cause of so many people being injured or dying in the ensuing battles, and threw herself into training the Flying Squad with a will. And now she was down, and probably dead. He shook his head sadly.

"What is it?" Harry asked. He, like the D.A., was being kept in reserve, allowing the adults to fight until they tired or needed replacements. Harry was bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxious to get into the battle, but knowing he needed to save his strength to deal with Voldemort. He rubbed impatiently at his scar, which was burning constantly with Voldemort so close by. At least his Occlumency was keeping the monster out of his head, but the scar pain ranged from irritating to nearly unbearable at times.

"Madam Hooch," Dumbledore said sadly. "She was shot off her broom and landed right in the thick of things."

"Oh," Harry said, then swallowed hard. The woman who'd taught him to fly was gone. They hadn't been as close as he was with some of his professors, but they did have a special bond, the shared love of flying. "Does she need to be rescued?

Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder comfortingly. "No, lad, it's too late. I'm sorry. But she was doing what she felt she should, Harry. She was taking care of her students."

"I know," Harry said quietly, his face tense. "The Healing Squad isn't trying to get to her, are they? Not if she's in the thick of things."

"No. They saw her take a Killing Curse, I believe," Dumbledore replied.

"Where's Voldemort?" Harry said, suddenly noticing the pain in his scar had lessened. The monster must have moved farther away. "The house is bombed to pieces now. Nobody could stay in there. Where is he?"

"I suspect he's found someplace to watch the action," Dumbledore replied, turning to watch the action himself.

Suddenly Harry's scar seared with pain, making him fall to his knees.

"What is it?" Dumbledore said in concern.

"He's . . . he's . . . ." Harry was gasping for breath. He stood and sent an Adfero to Ron and Hermione. "He's furious. He's going after them," Harry said when he could speak again. "Ron and Hermione. So they can't direct the battle."

"Yes, I expected that," Dumbledore said.

"So did I. I just warned them. They're taking the evasive actions we planned," Harry said, his face stony. "Where is he? I want to get this over with!" His eyes searched the area around the house, the meadow between the house and the woods, and the edges of the woods as far as he could see. He activated the search function of his glasses and searched for Voldemort that way, as he'd done several times already. "There! I found him!"

"Where?" Dumbledore said.

"Behind the house - on that hill," Harry said. "He's put an Invisibility Charm on himself."

"Well done, Harry. Are you ready?"

"Absolutely. Let's go."

Dumbledore and Harry Apparated to the hillside behind the house, both of them slightly to one side of Voldemort.

"Did you miss me?" Harry said as he shot an Anti-Disapparating Charm at Voldemort, then a Revealing Charm, dodging the spells the evil wizard was already firing his way. Dumbledore and Harry kept a certain distance between them, staying on the same side of Voldemort so they wouldn't accidentally hit each other with their spells. Soon the air was full of multi-coloured spell fire and the sounds of the grunts and moans of the three combatants as their spells hit their targets with at least glancing blows.

* * * * *

Ron and Hermione had Disillusioned themselves before taking flight, but the setting sun was glinting off their broom handles and giving them away. They switched to Invisibility Charms, which were more difficult to sustain, but also more effective in such circumstances.

"Time to send in the D.A.," Ron said grimly. Hermione sent the messages to the squad leaders, giving them their assignments so they would reinforce the Aurors and Order members where they were needed.

* * * * *

Severus Snape hovered just past the edge of the forest listening to the sounds of battle: the shouted incantations; the zing of spell fire; the cries, groans and shrieks of the wounded. He was tired of the double life he'd been leading for so long. He knew Potter and Dumbledore were determined that this would be the last battle. He also knew that this was the very best chance they would have of defeating the Dark forces, with so many of them already jailed, nearly all of the Dementors captured, the giants and trolls not even in contention. He looked down the road toward the village, knowing his orders were to go to Order Headquarters and wait for further instructions, but he wanted out of the situation. He wanted to be free. He was sick of the life he'd led for so long. With a heavy sigh, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the battle, determined to do what he could to help and not caring much anymore if he survived or not.

He turned into the clearing where he knew Ron had planned to have the triage area set up. Neville Longbottom was in charge there.

"Professor Snape!" Neville said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help, Longbottom. I do have some knowledge of medical procedure. What can I do?" Snape said.

Neville handed him a medical kit and explained the methods they were using as well as the pre-programmed Portkeys, and Snape set to work. He, Neville and Alex McCullough, the other Healer Squad member who was assigned to this area, worked as quickly as they could, binding up wounds, giving potions when necessary, sending the lightly wounded back into battle, and transporting the more seriously injured to either Hogwarts' hospital wing or to St. Mungo's hospital.

Time passed slowly, yet seemed to be racing by. All of them were weary now. The Fifth Year Ravenclaw girl set as one of the sentries for their area cried out in pain, then was suddenly silent. Snape, Neville and Alex stood with their wands at the ready, watching nervously for approaching enemies.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," came a snide voice they all recognized. "What are you doing here, Snape?" Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, came through the trees, wands at the ready.

"There are injured students here," Snape replied with feigned patience. Malfoy, like all the Death Eaters, thought Snape was a loyal member of their group. Snape watched Malfoy carefully, waiting for the boy to make his move. "I'm doing what I can to take care of them." He gave Malfoy a look that said, "Don't blow my cover."

Alex watched the bullies in front of him nervously. He'd told Harry last term that he wasn't brave at all. He'd spent the Battle of Hogwarts hiding in the library rather than trying to fight. Harry had invited him to join the D.A. and told him he believed Alex could be brave when he had to. Alex had taken Harry at his word and given his best Ravenclaw efforts to D.A. He was a whiz at research and had found quite a few remedies that students would be capable of using on each other in the field, remedies so simple that Madam Pomfrey had not thought of them when she'd first instructed the Healer Squad. Now he stood with his wand at the ready, facing boys who had bullied him and his friends, as well as Harry and his friends, for years. He still didn't believe he had the courage for combat, but it appeared that he wasn't going to be given a choice.

What would Harry do? Alex thought, fighting back his fear. The answer came to him in an instant. Harry would cheek these boys! He'd attack them! He'd defeat them! That's what Harry would do!

Holding that thought like a shield before him, Alex said, "Go away! We have injured people to take care of. If you want to fight, go join the battle."

"Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" Malfoy chortled, moving toward the younger boy. Crabbe and Goyle laughed sycophantically behind him. "What have we here? A brave little soldier? If you're so brave, why are you hiding back here with the cowards like Longbottom?"

"Neville is not a coward! He's a decorated war hero!" Alex declared vehemently.

"Malfoy, leave us. Your battle is elsewhere," Snape said smoothly.

"No, I think it's here. This boy has cheeked me once too often," he said, raising his wand and pointing it at Alex.

Alex froze, then remembered the shield of Harry's courage. The shield. The Shield Charm! "Protego!" he said just as Malfoy shot a spell at him. Finally remembering his training, Alex ducked and rolled, shooting spells as he did so, trying to aim well, but doing his best to draw the fire away from the injured students lying helpless on the ground.

"Oh, bloody hell," Neville grumbled as he joined the fray. He and Alex were soon fully involved in battling Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Since the two D.A. members seemed to be doing well in combat for the moment, Snape busied himself with protecting the injured. He Portkeyed all of the casualties out of the clearing as quickly as he could while Alex and Neville battled the three young Death Eaters.

Once Snape had all the injured students transported out of harm's way, he crossed the clearing swiftly, his cloak billowing behind him like a dark cloud. Neville managed to hit Crabbe with a Petrificus Totalus. Snape bound him with unbreakable magical bonds, then went after Malfoy himself. Alex was fighting with Malfoy and doing fairly well, but he was injured and his strength was fading. He tripped and fell, his wand flying out of his hand. Malfoy raised his wand and said, "Avada Kedavra!" just as Snape threw himself between Malfoy and Alex's prone body. The spell hit Snape full in the chest. His limp body fell and lay still, Alex pinned under him.

"You killed Snape!" Goyle cried, aghast. "The Dark Lord will kill you for that!"

Shocked by what he'd done, Malfoy stood motionless until Goyle's voice broke through the whirl of incoherent thoughts in his mind. "Let's go!" he cried, racing away, Goyle hot on his heels.

Neville, injured himself and stunned by the scene he'd just witnessed, pointed his wand at their retreating backs and cried, "Stupefy!" Goyle fell like a huge tree, the sound of his body hitting the ground reverberating through the forest. Malfoy ran like a scared rabbit. Neville ran after him for a short distance, then came back and tied Goyle up, breaking the bully's wand in two. He Levitated the Stunned boy back to the clearing, depositing him none too gently next to Crabbe, then set a Portkey for Azkaban. "This is too good for you, you pieces of filth," he said as he activated the Portkey. Crabbe and Goyle rolled their eyes frantically, unable to move anything else, as the Portkey took them away.

Neville raced back to see how Alex and Snape were. Alex was struggling, trying to get the man's body off him. Neville Levitated Snape's body a bit so Alex could get up.

"You OK?" Neville asked the younger boy, who nodded.

"Is he . . . is he dead?" Alex asked nervously. "He saved my life!"

"I know. I guess he wasn't such a git after all," Neville said as he examined his most-hated professor. "Get me another Portkey, I've run out." Neville reset the Portkey for the proper location, and soon, Snape was transported to the morgue at St. Mungo's. Neville and Alex spent a long, silent moment looking at the spot from which their professor's body had just disappeared, then got back to work, treating each other's wounds, checking on their injured sentries and taking care of the wounded fighters who continued to be brought to them.

* * * * *

On the ground, the Death Eaters, Aurors and Order members were fighting furiously. The battle went on for hours. D.A. members fought alongside Aurors and acquitted themselves magnificently, earning the respect of the adult wizards. Slowly but surely, the number of Death Eaters was being reduced.

Voldemort managed to break the Anti-Disapparation Charm Harry had put on him and disappeared. Harry growled in disgust, then turned with Dumbledore to help their forces.

Through the multicoloured flashes of spell light, Harry could see his godfather across the clearing. Remus was bleeding from numerous wounds, and beginning to stagger, visibly weakening. Harry started toward him, then saw Remus standing over the fallen Kingsley Shacklebolt to protect him, his wand at the ready but shaking in his hand as his strength failed. Remus went down under a hail of spell fire and lay far too still.

Harry raced toward them, shooting spells as he ran. Soon the way was cleared and Harry knelt by his godfather's side.

"Remus? Remus, can you hear me?" Harry thought he would choke from the lump in his throat. Remus had to be all right, he had to!

"Yes," Remus said, coughing weakly. He tried to move off of Kingsley, who was stirring under him. "Leave me. You have . . . work to do."

"Yes, I do. Right here. Relax, I've got you," Harry said, Levitating his godfather just enough to help the Auror out from under him. "Kingsley, you OK?" he asked as he settled Remus back on the ground.

He was gasping for breath. "Fine," Kingsley said grimly as he tried to sit up. He was bleeding profusely from numerous wounds. He collapsed next to Harry, unconscious.

Harry had to choose. Should he treat his godfather or Kingsley first? He placed his hand on Kingsley and decided Remus was in worse shape despite the Auror's unconsciousness. "We need to get both of you to St. Mungo's," Harry told his godfather. He glanced around. The battle had moved away from them for the moment. All of Ginny's Healer Squad workers were busy helping other people. "Hang on, I'm going to see what I can do for you."

As his godfather gazed trustingly into his eyes, Harry laid his hands on the man's chest, over the worst of the visible wounds. He sensed inside - Remus had a number of badly damaged organs and was bleeding internally in addition to the numerous wounds visible on him. "Merlin!" Harry cried softly, "I need you!"

The phoenix flashed to him, landed next to Remus and quickly began pouring tears into open wounds, which closed up magically. Harry and Merlin worked feverishly. The battle could swing back their way at any moment.

As Harry and Merlin worked on him, Remus pressed the small ruby in his wedding ring and said "Tonks." Her face appeared above his ring a heartbeat later. "Hi," he said wearily. "I'm sorry. I picked the . . . wrong time . . . for the lycanthropy cure," he gasped.

"Remus! Remus, where are you? Where's the Healing Squad?" Tonks cried, her heart breaking. She could see he was wounded and fading fast.

"I'm . . . in a gully . . . behind the house," Remus gasped. "Dunno where . . . squad is." He coughed. "Harry's here. Tonks, I love you. I've . . . always loved you. I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare give up, Remus!" Tonks said fiercely. "I'll be right there!"

"No! The baby--" he cried, coughing hard.

"We can have another baby, but I can't find another you. You hang on, I'm coming to get you." Her face disappeared from above his ring and then Tonks herself was bending over him. "Oh, love, I'm so sorry," she said. "And Kingsley." She glanced up at Harry, who was working his magic on his godfather as quickly as he could. Merlin had moved to Kingsley, healing all the open wounds he could find. Tears streamed down Tonks's face as she tried to find some way to help Harry heal her husband's wounds. Ginny landed next to them just as Harry was finishing what he could do for his godfather.

"I'm sorry, I've been so . . . oh, no! Remus!" Ginny said as she knelt next to Harry. "What can I do?" She was already checking Remus over.

"I've stabilized him as much as I can quickly," Harry said, sitting back and letting her examine his godfather. He moved over to Shacklebolt and did what he could for him.

"You've done a good job, Harry," she said, smiling at him briefly. "Tonks, how did you get here?"

"He called me on his ring," Tonks sobbed suddenly helpless as she felt her husband slipping away from her. Remus was fading in and out of consciousness. "We have rings like yours and Harry's. He needs to go to St. Mungo's."

"Yeah. Here," Ginny said briskly. "Pre-programmed Portkey. I'll put it on his chest and you touch it. When I activate it, you'll go to St. Mungo's. Tell him to get well! Harry needs him!"

Remus woke up again when Ginny placed the Portkey on his chest. "Harry?" he murmured. Harry turned back to his godfather, taking his hand in his. "Take care of yourself, lad," Remus murmured, patting his godson's hand weakly with his free hand.

"I'll do my best," the boy replied.

"That's all any of us can ask," his godfather said, his eyes grave. "I love you, Harry. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't," Harry vowed. "I love you too. Now you get well. You have a baby to raise, and you'll have to give me and Ginny pointers when we have our kids," he teased, with a hint of his cheeky smile.

Remus studied the boy's battle-weary face hungrily. He didn't know if he'd ever see Harry again. Remus knew he was in very bad shape, and that Harry still had a terrible battle to finish. His eyes roved over the beloved face of his godson, memorizing every detail, from the exhaustion in his posture, to the sad resolve in his eyes, to the cuts and spell burns covering nearly every exposed inch of skin.

"I'll see you soon," Harry said, patting his godfather on the arm.

He sat back as Ginny tapped both Portkeys and counted down, "Three, two, one." In an instant, Remus, Tonks and Kingsley were gone

Harry and Ginny sat side by side watching the chaos around them. For the moment, they were in a tiny space of perfect peace while the battle raged a short distance away. Harry took Ginny's hand in his and turned it over, studying its small, neat nails, the wrinkles at her knuckles, the calluses on her palm from playing Quidditch. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm, nestling his cheek inside it. "This isn't the time or place or how I wanted to do this, but I need to ask you something," he said, his voice low and serious.

Ginny tore her eyes from the battle spread out before them and stared at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Will you marry me? I want to know we're going to spend our lives together forever," he said, gazing earnestly into her eyes.

Ginny cupped his cheek with her hand, tears glistening in her eyelashes. "This isn't the time or place or how I wanted you to do this, but yes, Harry. I would love to be your wife. And the sooner the better. I don't care about extra study. I don't want to be a healer anymore. I just want to live with you forever."

A slow smile crossed Harry's weary face. "I'll hold you to that promise, you know."

"And I'll hold you to yours," she said, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was brief but heartfelt and deep. "Come back to me, Harry."

"I will," he promised. He kissed her palm once more and stood up, said, "I love you, Ginny," then strode determinedly across the battlefield into the thick of the fray. He soon disappeared over the ridge of the hill, leaving felled Death Eaters in his wake.

"I love you, Harry," Ginny said quietly as she watched him go, her heart in her throat.

After a moment, Ginny swallowed her tears and jumped on her broom, then took to the skies again, searching for more injured people while trying to keep an eye on Harry. She growled in sudden fury. There were photographers filming the battle, just sitting on their brooms taking pictures and filming! She sent a furious Adfero to Dumbledore and Ron, then quickly changed positions before the Death Eaters could fire at the spot where the Adferos had originated.

Ron sent her a quick reply. "They're Ministry people recording the battle. Can you believe it? Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, but Remus is in a bad way. I had to send him to St. Mungo's - Kingsley too. I don't know if either of them will make it," she sent back to her brother. Suddenly she saw why Dumbledore hadn't answered her Adfero. He and Harry were fully involved in battle with Voldemort. When Harry had gone over the hill, Voldemort must have reappeared, or else he'd already been fighting with Dumbledore when Harry rejoined that battle. Their fight was why most of the cameras were aimed over that little hill - the main battle was taking place in the clearing between the back of the house and the woods. She hovered high enough to be safe so she could watch the battle. Harry was still fighting strongly, but Dumbledore seemed to be hurt, or tiring.

Harry had noticed Dumbledore stumbling a bit, but kept his distance from his mentor. He knew that if he moved toward him, Voldemort would have his two targets close enough together to do far more damage. Staying apart kept Voldemort busy, kept him guessing, kept him so occupied that he might, at some point, make a mistake. If nothing else, he was beginning to tire. Harry and Dumbledore had both unleashed their full power. The ground shook with the magic filling the air in that small clearing.

"You didn't learn your lesson the last time, you young whelp," Voldemort snarled as whip lashes appeared out of the end of his wand.

"That trick won't work this time," Harry cried defiantly, sending a Severing Charm at the whip, cutting the lashes off near the wand's tip.

"I can always make more," the evil wizard growled as more lashes emerged from his wand.

"Seems like a waste of a perfectly good wand to me," Harry quipped, severing the lashes again and casting a Bone-Removing Hex an eye-blink later. Voldemort managed to evade the hex and cast another spell Harry's way. Their taunts stopped as they got down to the serious business of trying to kill each other.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder at the battle between the Aurors, Order members, D.A. and the Death Eaters. Looks like the tide has finally turned in our favour, she thought as she saw more Death Eaters fall and several D.A. squads advancing rapidly.

She looked back toward Harry and his battle. She knew that he would die today if that's what it took. He was not going to let this war go on any longer, no matter what it required of him. He was magnificent. His hair crackled with magical power, blowing around as if in a stiff breeze, but it was his own magic causing the movement. She'd never seen him with his magic fully revealed. Now his body was enveloped in a golden aura. Gold sparks leaped out of the ends of his hair. She suddenly understood why it would never lie down neatly and always seemed to have a life of its own - it did. His magic was so powerful, his hair couldn't simply lie flat on his head. Gold sparks flew from the ends of his fingers as more powerful spells than she could ever imagine poured out of his wand. Voldemort was visibly weakening. Go, Harry! You've got him! Go! she thought eagerly. A glance at her headmaster showed her Dumbledore was also weakening.

Suddenly, a group of Death Eaters surged over the ridge and down into the small clearing where Harry's battle was raging. D.A. members streamed after them, firing spell after spell, trying to stop and turn them before they got too close to Harry, Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Voldemort saw his opportunity and began firing spells at the D.A. members. Several fell before Harry was able to distract the evil wizard again. Death Eaters took the advantage Voldemort had given them and turned to fight at close quarters.

Dumbledore was near the D.A. and Death Eaters' battle. He glanced at Harry and saw the boy was still fighting well, in good control of his abilities and fully concentrated on his nemesis. Dumbledore turned to protect his students, shooting down Death Eaters as quickly as he could manage. He kept fighting, trying to help the D.A. members.

"Send reinforcements to Dumbledore," Ron told Hermione.

"We don't have any left!" she cried. "They're scattered all over the battlefield."

"Then send the Flying Squad. They need something to break the enemy's momentum," he said grimly. The Flying Squad was soon soaring over the clearing, doing their best to bomb the enemy and not their own people. The battle surged back over the hill toward the house again as the D.A. finally managed to do what they'd been trained to do, and "clear away" when Harry was fighting Voldemort.

The Flying Squad turned the tide. Dumbledore followed the action over the hill and helped overcome the remaining Death Eaters. Other skirmishes were still ongoing in various areas around the house, but the Death Eaters were definitely losing now.

Meanwhile, Harry and Voldemort were fighting even more furiously than before.

"Why aren't you dead yet?" Voldemort snarled at one point.

"I'm too busy having fun to die," Harry snapped.

"Fun, is it? How are you enjoying this?" Voldemort snarled, his green eyes flashing.

"You know, green really isn't your colour," Harry quipped, sending a Conjunctivitis Curse at the dark wizard's face.

Voldemort managed to dodge part of it, but some of the spell hit his eyes and made it hard for him to see. Add the growing darkness of nightfall to the mix and he was having serious trouble aiming his spells properly.

The battle raged on. The tide had turned again. A group of Death Eaters had the D.A. squads nearest Harry and Voldemort surrounded. Voldemort tired of playing with Harry and Disapparated, giving Harry time to help his friends fight the overwhelming force. Harry and Dumbledore fought side by side for a while, but then the fighting separated them again.

Harry was doing his best to disable, not kill, his opponents. There had already been enough killing in his life, and he was sickened by it. He knew that the Bone-Removal Curse worked well if he did on the limbs, not the torso, of his enemies, but it was tricky to aim that well in battle conditions. He wound up removing all the bones from several Death Eaters in the heat of battle and knew they would die a horrible death if no one got to them in time to replace the bones of their torsos so they could breathe. They made a choice. They're dying with it, he told himself sternly. The Knee-Reversing Jinx was working well when he could aim it properly, but it had to actually hit the person's knees to work. Aiming with that kind of precision was very difficult in the heat of battle, but he was hitting his targets successfully more than he was missing. Not one person hit with it could manage to move once their knees worked in the opposite way from normal. They soon fell over and were then relatively easy to subdue.

As the Death Eaters' number steadily diminished, the tide of the battle finally turned again. Harry and his friends were winning - but at that moment, Voldemort chose to return.

"I've tired of playing with you, Harry," Voldemort snapped. "It's time to finish this."

"Yes, it is," Harry said grimly, knowing the monster had retired from the battlefield again simply to allow Harry time to get exhausted from continuing the battle. Here he was, injured, fatigued, heartsick, and facing a rested and refreshed Voldemort. Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

They threw spell after spell at each other, Harry ducking and rolling to get away, Voldemort leaping with surprising agility, or each of them Disapparating just as a spell was about to hit. Many of Harry's spells were getting through the Dark Lord's defences, though, and he was beginning to tire again, at long last.

Harry glanced around quickly. His friends were doing their best to keep the remaining Death Eaters away from him and Voldemort so he could concentrate on his battle. A large enough space had just opened around them so that he finally felt safe doing his Sphere Shield Charm. As powerful a spell as it had become for him, if anyone inadvertently got too close to the outside of it before he had it properly stabilized, they could get sucked into it and quite possibly die, so he'd had to wait as the battle raged around him until the proper amount of space cleared out.

Using both his wand and his other hand, Harry cast the spherical shield over Voldemort, and started condensing the sphere to make it both thicker-walled and smaller. The smaller and denser it became, the harder it was for him to manage it. He felt the griffins and phoenixes on the wand's handle doing their tap-dance in his palm as they added their power to the wand.

Harry heard himself moaning, "Help me, help me," as he fought to control the sphere. The most powerful Dark wizard in the world was inside it, fighting madly, throwing spell after spell, many of which nearly breeched the delicate shield. Harry ignored the glare of those weird eyes, so hauntingly like his, and the spells the monster was casting, and concentrated on increasing the thickness of his shield. "Help me," he moaned once more, then saw Ron, Ginny and Hermione all racing to join him. They cast their spheres over his and condensed them, as Harry had taught them, their spheres converging over Harry's. Swirls of golden light shimmered as the three new spheres covered Harry's deep gold one, the colours pulsating strongly as they wrapped around each other and began to blend together.

Harry gave a big push of magic and the various sphere shields merged with a deep gong-like sound, the sphere itself turning crystal clear and glowing like a star. They could see Voldemort struggling inside, shooting spells and blocking them as fast as he could, but weakening, falling down in exhaustion as often as he dodged his own spells.

Harry was shaking now, the fiddly, difficult charm taking every ounce of strength he had. He moaned "Merlin! Help me!" Both Merlin and Fawkes left their healing tasks, landed on his shoulders and began singing their strengthening songs. Harry's heart lifted at the phoenix song, but he was injured, weakened by blood loss, and so weary he had no idea how much longer he could hold out.

"You can do it, Harry!" Ron cried, seeing his friend's distress.

"Keep it up, Harry, he's weakening!" Hermione encouraged him.

"I love you, Harry," Ginny said, her voice weaving a spell inside him. "You can do this. Let's get this over with. Then we can go to Godric's Hollow and build our home." She continued to tell him stories about their future together, heartening him as only she could. Ron and Hermione called their encouragement repeatedly.

Harry felt refreshed, if not renewed, by his friends' encouragement and the phoenixes' song. He knew they were all putting their lives at risk to help him. No one could show greater love than that. His heart swelled with tenderness and gratitude, as well as tremendous fear for their safety. He tried to concentrate even more, tuning his ears to Ginny's words, which spun a web of peace and love around him.

She loves me, Harry thought as she spoke. They'd told each other "I love you" so many times in recent months, but somehow it wasn't the same. Harry's heart began beating wildly, pounding with joy and power. He felt a burst of incandescent golden light inside his very soul as he suddenly glimpsed a peaceful, carefree future. Ginny and I are going to marry and have loads of children and be happy together forever. I'm going to have a family of my own at last! I love her so much! his inner voice cried triumphantly. The golden aura around his body re-emerged and increased in brightness, sparks coming off his hair and hands in continuous streams now, his hair moving wildly in a wind of his own creation, caused by the magic flowing fiercely from his body.

The sphere was as dense as he could make it. It was time. Now or never. Holding tightly to the warm embrace of Ginny's love, Harry grunted and poured every ounce of magic in his being into his wand, then shouted "EXCOLO!"

Within the sphere, Voldemort began spinning in place. An unearthly scream ripped from his throat as he spun faster and faster. The blood he'd stolen from Harry pounded in his veins as Harry's magic took control of it. A golden cloud like the aura around Harry's body coalesced around Voldemort, then rose to the top of the sphere's interior and hovered there. Tendrils of glistening light lowered to touch the evil wizard, briefly envelope him, then rise away from him again, over and over. Voldemort's heart beat faster and faster as Harry's magic drew the blood through him in an ever-increasing tempo. The blood raced through his heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, spleen, limbs, every artery, vein and capillary, the goodness of Harry's blood, now under Harry's control, purifying all the evil it encountered.

The exterior of the sphere began to smoke, a smoke that became a grey mist surrounding the group holding the crystalline sphere intact. Ghosts could be seen within the mist, ghosts who spoke quietly to Harry and then walked right into his back, coming out of his wand and into the sphere to surround Voldemort, who had stopped spinning and now stood quaking before them.

Harry's body shuddered violently as each ghost passed through it, but he fought to hold the spell steady. He began to glow, his skin shimmering brighter and brighter with each ghost that moved through him, as if he was taking on their phosphorescence. There were so many ghosts: James and Lily Potter, Sirius, Casey and her family, Seamus, Cho, Katie Bell, Ben Whittier, Percy, Cedric Diggory, others who'd died either at Voldemort's hand or by his orders, people who Harry had loved or been good friends with, people whose memories he cherished. Harry's ghostly army, all loyal to him, were there for him at his hour of greatest need, there to refine the evil out of Lord Voldemort forever through Harry's Excolo Charm.

Voldemort shrieked and shrank away from the ghosts, who clustered around him and hid him from view. His screams were ear-shattering and seemed as if they'd never end.

Harry glanced up at Ron and nodded toward Hermione, then stepped toward Ginny, trying to get between her and the sphere. "MOVE!" he shouted as he gave another push of magic with the very last of his strength, shoving the sphere away from his friends. The sphere burst into light and imploded, the shock wave knocking everyone down.

Harry's friends lay where they'd landed, stunned and injured by the implosion. Hermione was the first to wake up. She sat up and glanced around. Nearest to her was Ron, his right leg shattered and torn, bleeding profusely. On her other side was Ginny, who was just waking up and turning over, looking for Harry.

Harry had been the closest to the sphere when it blew, and the blasting force had tossed him the farthest away. He looked like a broken doll, his body in an unnatural position, bleeding freely from numerous wounds. Merlin was already working on his master's wounds. Fawkes had gone to help Ron.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, crawling to him, still too dizzy to stand up and walk. "Harry! Wake up!"

"Ah, that's a beautiful sight," said a familiar, drawling voice Ginny hadn't heard in months.

"Malfoy!" she cried, turning her wand on him. He'd just aimed his wand at Harry and said, "Avada--" when Ginny and Hermione both hit him with hexes. Ginny's turned him into a cow pat. Hermione's gave him explosive boils. Both girls got to their feet, absolutely furious with the boy who'd tormented them for so many years.

"What shall we do with him now?" Hermione growled.

"My mum says filth should always be cleaned up as soon as possible," Ginny snarled. "Shall we clean house?" Hermione nodded. They pointed their wands at the steaming pile and the two most powerful student witches at Hogwarts poured every ounce of their magic into their wands and cried, "Scourgify!" at the same time.

With a wailing cry of anguish, the pile of cow manure with bubbles popping all over it whirled up into the air for a heartbeat and then suddenly Vanished with a loud crack. The girls stared at the spot where it had been for a moment with tremendous satisfaction, then turned back to their boyfriends.

Ron was just waking up. He moaned and tried to sit up. "Did we get him?"

Hermione pointed to the emaciated body of a wizened old man in the centre of what had been the sphere. "Yes. That's him."

The ghosts were still there, swirling around the body, staring at it.

"Is he dead?" Ron said with a groan.

"Nearly, I think," Hermione said, glancing over at Voldemort.

The old man's breathing was ragged and shallow. He had scarred craters where he should have had eyes. His nose was a hacked off ruin. His face bore innumerable scars and wounds. He was so thin, his robes engulfed him like a shroud. A small wand-shaped pile of ash lay beside him, all that was left of the wand that had helped the man lying there cause so much evil in the world.

Ron glanced at the body, nodded once and promptly lost consciousness.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, bursting into tears. She sat cross-legged and cradled his head in her lap, wiping the blood and dirt off of his face with her hands, smoothing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. "Ron, please be all right! Please!"

Dumbledore came stumbling up the hill toward them, badly injured himself. The last time anyone had seen him, he'd been surrounded by Death Eaters and was fighting like the very wrath of God, his countenance fierce, his wand a blur, his long white hair and beard flying in the windstorm created by the massive amounts of magic he was using in battle. Now he simply looked like a weary, heartsick old man.

"How are you all?" he gasped, concerned but needing to catch his breath. He stood weaving in place as he wiped blood from his eyes with the end of his beard.

"Ron's hurt pretty badly, and Harry . . ." Hermione began, then broke down in tears.

"Harry's dying," Ginny whispered in shock, too agonized by the thought to give full voice to her grief.

"No. He can't die, not now!" Hermione sobbed.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and blew it out, seeming to gain strength and at least a bit of energy from the exercise. He leaned over the injured young man and said, "He's seriously injured. We'll have to get him to St. Mungo's soon." He patted Ginny on the back. "Do you have your medical kit?"

"Yes," she muttered, still numb.

"Then do what you can for him. The phoenixes have stopped the bleeding, at least. We'll send him on as soon as he's stabilized." He pulled a roll of gauze and some sterile pads from Ginny's kit and handed it to Hermione. "You can bind up Mr. Weasley's leg, Miss Granger. Do it tightly to help stop the bleeding and support the leg. It looks badly broken, and that wound's too big for a phoenix to be able to heal it completely. I'll look at both of them once you girls have finished, and then we'll send them to St. Mungo's." He watched to make sure the girls were taking care of the boys' injuries, then moved to the withered body on the ground. "Tom? Are you still there?"

"Yessssssss," the old man hissed through the horrible gash in his face that was a travesty of a mouth.

"He won, didn't he?" Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry Potter beat Lord Voldemort. Surprised you, didn't he?" He smiled wistfully at the wreck of a man before him. "Tom, you were a good boy once, very much like Harry. What happened?" he said, shaking his head sadly.

"What . . . did he do . . . to me?" the man groaned.

"He refined the dross from your spirit," Dumbledore said. "He didn't kill you. He purified you. All the evil is gone from your soul. That's why your body is different, because so much of it was created by evil methods. All of that has been stripped away. You are simply Tom Riddle once more."

"Tom . . . Riddle . . . ." the man gasped as he breathed his last.

Dumbledore sighed sadly and slid the man's eyelids over his empty sockets. "Rest in peace, Tom - if you can." He glanced at the girls for a moment. "I saw what you did with Mr. Malfoy. I think that was an excellent choice of charm. We do want to cleanse the world of evil, don't we?" he said mildly. The girls nodded briefly. He turned back to the body on the ground before him and said, "Scourgify." The remains of the most evil wizard of the age disappeared in an instant.

Dumbledore turned to the ghosts, who were milling around uneasily, staring at Harry's still form. "Thank you so much for your help. You can rest easy now. Lord Voldemort is no more."

The ghosts lined up one by one and walked by Harry's body, James and Lily first in line. They knelt next to him. James ruffled his son's unruly hair, so much like his own. "Well done, lad," his father said.

"We're so proud of you," his mother added, tenderly smoothing the ruffled places James had made in their son's hair. She leaned down and kissed his scarred forehead. "I love you so much, my precious boy." She sat back and leaned against James, who put his arm around her. Each of them kept a loving hand on their son as they watched the procession of ghostly visitors pay their respects to their fallen hero.

"Good work, lad," Sirius said with a rakish grin as he joined James and Lily by Harry's side. "Get well quickly. Ginny needs you. So does Remus. Tell him I'm glad he found Tonks. Enjoy that bike."

It seemed as if the ghostly procession went on for hours, but in reality, only a few moments passed. Percy bent down and looked at his sister, who was still occupied with binding up Harry's numerous wounds. "Ginny?"

"Huh?" she said, startled. "P-P-Percy?"

"I don't have long. Tell Mum I'm sorry. Tell the boys I wish I hadn't been such a prat to them. Tell Dad I'm proud of him. I'm sorry about all those things I said. Tell them for me, will you?"

Ginny nodded, her eyes huge as she stared at the ghost of her third brother.

"And tell Harry I was glad to know him. I'm happy you two got together. Take care of each other. Goodbye."

Ginny simply stared, finally managing to say "Goodbye, Percy," just as he vanished.

The Asher family was near the end of the line, four Muggles still confused by all the magical things they'd seen and experienced, but there because of their feelings for Harry. Little Patricia leaned down and kissed Harry's cheek. "I love you, big brother," she said simply.

Doug and Margaret looked across Harry's body at James and Lily. "He's your son, then?" Doug asked James. "He must be - he looks just like you." James smiled and nodded. "He's a fine young man. It was an honour to know him."

"Thank you," James said.

"Thank you for looking after him so well," Lily added. "We keep watch over him, but there's so little we can do. You were so kind to him. Thank you."

"It was our pleasure," Margaret said, smiling sadly at Lily. Her heart went out to the other woman, who had been ripped from her son's life far too soon. "He's a wonderful boy."

Casey floated over Harry's body and knelt by Ginny, who was leaning over Harry, tying off the last of the bandages she'd applied, her body rigid with fear until he took his next breath, then relaxing for only a moment before she tensed again, praying for the next breath to come. Ginny glanced up at the ghost beside her.

"I'm glad he has you," Casey told her sincerely. She looked at Ginny a bit longer. Ginny barely nodded, and then Casey merged with her, leaned over and kissed Harry tenderly, a lifetime of love and longing in that kiss. She gazed at him a moment longer, then pulled out of Ginny. "Thanks for that," Casey said sincerely. "Bring him back - he's almost at the border, but he needs to live. You two have a Quidditch team to raise," she said, then joined her parents and sister in the line. She turned back to Ginny and said "Be happy together," before disappearing.

As the last of the ghostly host vanished, James, Lily and Sirius began to fade. Lily turned to Ginny. "You're so good for him. Thank you for loving him. Thank Ron and Hermione for being such good friends to him, too, would you?" Ginny nodded. Lily bent to kiss her son one last time. "I love you, my darling. Be strong. Ginny needs you." With Sirius's last pat on Harry's shoulder and James's last caress of his son's hair, the Potters and Sirius disappeared.

Tears ran down Ginny's cheeks unheeded. Lily Potter had said Ginny was good for Harry, and that she needed him. That meant Harry's parents had given her and Harry's relationship their approval. Ginny's heart filled with joy tempered by sadness that Harry had not been awake to see his parents, to hear what they'd had to say. I'll have to use his Pensieve so he can see what happened here, she thought.

And then there was Casey. Casey's blessing on her and Harry's relationship meant a lot to Ginny, unexpectedly so. And how did Casey know about the Quidditch team Ginny and Harry had talked about giving birth to? She almost smiled at the thought, but looking at Harry's motionless body brought her thoughts crashing back down to his present reality.

Please, oh please, make him well! Let him live! He's had such an awful life so far. With Voldemort gone, he can enjoy life. Please give us a chance! Please! she prayed, her fingers interlaced with Harry's. She picked up his wand and pocketed it, then went back to smoothing the hair off of his forehead and willing him with everything in her being to keep breathing, not knowing what else to do. She had no more pre-programmed Portkeys. Even if she'd had one, now that she'd bound up his wounds as well as she could, she was beyond conscious thought or action, feeling suspended in a deep well of grief.

Dumbledore picked up a rock, turned it into a Portkey and sent Harry to St. Mungo's, Ginny holding the rock tightly so she'd go with him. Dumbledore soon sent Ron and Hermione to St. Mungo's as well. All of them were injured by the blast to some extent, although Ron's leg was by far the worst of the lot next to Harry's.

* * * * *

Harry woke up to find his parents standing beside him. He was in a place of golden light, lovely phoenix song and soft breezes. His parents pulled him into hugs as soon as he noticed them.

"We're so proud of you!" Lily exclaimed, pulling on his shoulders so he'd bend down, then smoothing his hair back and kissing his unscarred forehead.

"You were magnificent, lad," James said, ruffling Harry's hair and clapping him firmly on the back.

"Mum! Dad! Is it really you?" Harry asked, running his hands up and down his mother's back as she held him, reaching over to squeeze his father's shoulder, delighting in the solid feel of both of them. His father was muscular and fit, not as tall or broad-shouldered as Harry, but with equally messy hair and hazel eyes. His mother was petite, a bit taller than Ginny but still dainty and elegant, her long red hair a different shade from any of the Weasley colours. It was strange to see his own eyes in someone else's face. None of the photos he had did her justice. She was quite simply a beautiful woman. Harry hugged her again, breathing in the scent of her. Honeysuckle and roses, fresh air and sunshine, warmth and love. He knew that scent. He remembered it from long ago.

Reluctantly, he released his mum and turned to his dad, hugging him with equal abandon, relishing the feel of the man's strong muscles under his hands, the warmth of his embrace, the rush of love that was palpable between them. He looked at his dad's face, amazed at their resemblance. Except for the shape and colour of the eyes, and Harry's hair being a good bit longer, it was very much like looking in a mirror. They were even close to the same age. Harry wondered for a moment why neither of them were wearing glasses, but he could see perfectly well. He dismissed the thought and revelled in the joy of the moment. Finally, he stepped back and looked from his dad's beloved face to his mum's, holding his father's shoulder with one hand, his mother's hand with the other. He was afraid to let go of them. He couldn't remember being happier.

"It's so wonderful to see you! It's a dream, though, isn't it?" he said cautiously.

They both shook their heads solemnly, their eyes suddenly sad.

"Then . . . I'm dead?" he said, wondering how he felt about this. Harry knew he was excited to be with his parents at last, but he also knew he'd left a lot of loved ones behind, one little redhead in particular. "Am I dead?" he repeated slowly.

"Not yet,'" James said quietly. "You're 'between.'"

"It's so good to see you, to be able to hold you, Harry, we can't tell you what a thrill it is for us!" his mother said running her hands over his heavily muscled arms and chest. "You're so tall, so muscular, so handsome! You look wonderful!"

"Thanks," he told his mother, noticing that her eyes crinkled just like his when she smiled. He stood quietly a moment, savouring the experience of finally being with his parents, able to touch them, to talk with them, to hear their voices, to be held by them. He finally sighed and asked the necessary question. "What's 'between?'"

"You're not dead yet, lad," James told him gravely. "You have to make a choice."

"Is Sirius here?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Yes," James replied, and beckoned Sirius over.

"Sirius! I'm so sorry! If I hadn't been so thick--"

"It was my time, Harry. Don't you worry about it," Sirius said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Remus had the right of it - I would've wanted to go in battle or while doing something else equally exciting or stupid." His bark of a laugh rang out. Harry had missed its sound. "It's great to see you! You've grown up quite a bit!"

"Yeah, I have," Harry said with a laugh. "Good to see you too!" he added, pulling the man into a hug. "I've missed you."

"And I you."

"Remus and I got your motorcycle running," Harry said excitedly. "It's brilliant!"

"That's great!" Sirius said with a rakish grin. "Chicks love a man on a motorcycle."

"Harry, we need to talk about your choice," James reminded him. "You don't have much time left."

"We're all so glad to see you, but it's not your time yet, sweetheart," his mother said, her heart in her eyes as she ran her fingers through his thick, glossy hair.

"I don't know what to do! I love you! I want to stay with you!" Harry said, knowing in his heart he also wanted to go back to the other people who loved him. "There's so much we need to talk about! I want to spend more time with you!"

"You have friends who love you and want you back. You have a life to live," James replied simply. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

"We're delighted you and Remus became close," Lily said, stroking his cheek gently and studying his face with eyes full of love. "And Ginny is perfect for you, sweetheart. She needs you."

"I'm glad you stopped being so thick and recognized what a little gem she is," Sirius teased. "Looks like you two are having a pretty good time together." He winked and gave Harry a leering grin. "We've enjoyed watching you two learn to love each other."

Harry was horrified. "You watched?"

Sirius, James and Lily just laughed merrily.

"We were young once ourselves," James assured him.

"Then you don't mind?" Harry asked nervously.

"Why would we mind? You aren't perfect, but you've been as responsible a young man as we could have asked," Lily said. "We might have wanted you to wait a bit longer, but the way your life has been, I don't blame you for embracing whatever happiness you could find."

Sirius chuckled and added, "And you would've been a bloody boring ponce if you'd been perfect!" James nodded his agreement.

Harry smiled, his face radiant as his soul flooded with more love than he'd ever thought possible.

Lily smoothed his hair off his forehead and kissed him once more where his scar had been. "It's time, sweetheart. You must choose now."

Harry's head spun around, suddenly noticing a voice in the distance calling him. He saw a hazy image of Ginny calling desperately to him. "But I want to stay," he said plaintively, turning back to his parents and Sirius.

"You have to choose," Lily said, motherly concern in her eyes. "You need to live a full life, sweetheart. Life passes so quickly. The afterlife goes on for eternity."

"I believe you and Ginny have a Quidditch team to raise," James added with a grin.

Harry gazed sadly at them, memorizing their faces as much as possible. "I love you. I love you all," he said.

"We love you too, sweetheart," Lily replied with a smile. "We want you to have a long and happy life. If you're going to go, it has to be now."

He nodded, sighed, and took one step back from them, and then everything went dark.

* * * * *

In St. Mungo's, the healers worked feverishly over Remus. Tonks hovered nearby, refusing to leave no matter how awful the procedure they were doing on him.

"You say he recently started taking some kind of cure for lycanthropy?" the healer in charge asked her sharply. "Do you know what's in it?"

"No, but it should be in his pocket. He has to take some every eight hours," she said, digging into the pockets of his discarded robes. "Here. This is it."

The healer read the label and snapped new orders to his assistants. "We need to change the medication. We need Clotting Potion and Blood Restoring Potion, as well as the others I mentioned. He may be a werewolf, but with this stuff in his system, he's not going to heal himself, not quickly enough, at any rate." He moved his wand and crystal over Remus's body, cataloguing every injury as he came to it. "Who treated him at the battlefield?"

"Harry Potter," Tonks replied.

"Harry Potter? He's not a healer," the man snapped.

"You don't know him the way we do," Tonks snapped back. "He has a special healing skill. He can sense injuries and concentrate his magic to heal quite a few of them. Ask Marcus Pomfrey if you don't believe me."

"Marcus mentioned some teenager with such a skill, but he never said it was Harry Potter," the man said, studying Tonks's face momentarily.

"Harry doesn't advertise his skill," Tonks replied testily. "How's my husband?"

"Borderline," the man muttered, still working frantically to catch all the bleeders. Remus was whiter than the sheets now. Blood-Restoring Potion wasn't working fast enough to help him.

"If he needs blood, he can have mine," Tonks offered through her tears.

"Check Mrs. Lupin's blood to see if she's a match for him," the healer ordered his helpers absently. He glanced up at Tonks. "We're bringing blood up from the store room now, but with the number of casualties we're treating due to this battle, your offer is most appreciated."

Fortunately, Tonks's blood was a good match for Remus's, and the transfusion began. She lay on a bed beside his, looking at the blood going from her arm into his, and pushed some of her magic into the blood as well, hoping it would help him heal faster. His colour improved with the infusion of blood, but he remained unconscious.

A flurry of sound erupted just outside their room.

"Help! Please, somebody! Healer Pomfrey! Help!" a young woman shrieked.

Tonks recognized the voice as Ginny's and heard the sound of running feet. The desperation in Ginny's voice frightened Tonks more than she cared to admit. She couldn't help them right now, but she could and would help Remus. "Harry must be here, Remus," she said. "You need to wake up so you can see him. Come on, handsome, wake up. I want to see those pretty eyes and that wicked smile of yours. Wake up, babycakes. Please!"

Mayhem reigned in the corridor as numerous healers and nurses rushed to Harry's aid, pushing Ginny aside. Healer Pomfrey strode into the mass and took charge.

"He's my patient. Take him in here," Marcus said, directing them to a treatment room across from Remus's. As soon as they got Harry settled, Marcus started examining and treating him.

"Where's Remus?" Ginny asked through her tears. "Is he all right?"

"He's in there," Marcus said, pointing to Remus's room. "I don't know how he is. I'm sorry. I've been working on other people."

"That's all right. Harry will just want to know when he wakes up," she said in a small voice. She had done everything she knew how to do for him, and it wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough. She could feel him slipping away.

Marcus looked at Ginny and stopped what he was doing for a moment as he bent down and said, "Scar on my sister's elbow." She smiled up at him tremulously, appreciating his effort in giving his password. As he went back to work, he went on, "I should tell you, Ginny, that since the attacks last night, the hospital has been in a lockdown situation. No one in or out but patients, and we're being very careful about them. Every staff member left has been carefully screened. We're working double and triple shifts, since some of the staff turned out to be Death Eaters and our next shift workers haven't been allowed to come in. Every staff member left is trustworthy, I'd stake my life - and Harry's - on it. I don't think we'll need the password system while the hospital is so tightly sealed up. It will slow things down considerably, anyway, and we're racing to treat people as quickly as possible. Is that all right with you?"

"To not use passwords?" Ginny asked, a bit confused. She was under such stress, her brain simply wasn't working as well as it normally did.

"Yes," Marcus said, hoping she understood. With everyone racing around so much, it would be impossible to ask each staff member for a unique password.

"Yes, if you think it's safe for Harry," Ginny said quietly.

"I do. Thanks for understanding. I'll do my best to give him each of his medications myself, and be available for you whenever you need me. Just send me a message and I'll be here as quickly as I can, all right? Harry is my primary concern," Marcus said sincerely.

"Thank you," Ginny replied.

"We need to take you to a treatment room, miss," a nurse said kindly.

"I won't leave him!" Ginny said, frantic. She pulled her wand and pointed it very seriously at the nurse who was trying to lead her out of the room.

"Leave her where she is. Get someone to examine her here," Marcus said. He looked at Ginny for a moment. "You're injured. Harry would want you to be treated. Just cooperate with the healer when he examines you, all right? Then you'll be taken care of quickly and can go back to doting on Harry." He smiled at her briefly and went back to work on Harry.

The ward erupted in commotion again as Ron and Hermione arrived. Soon they were each in a treatment room, and Merlin, who had stayed with Ron to keep working on his wounds, flew into Harry's room and perched on a curtain rod where he could observe what the healers were doing for Harry.

Hermione was quickly treated and released. She immediately went to find Ron. He had shielded her from the blast at the last moment, putting his big body between her and the pulsating sphere he knew would blow at any second. He'd braced his right leg and shoved her away, so his leg took the majority of the blast. He was in bad shape. Ginny had been shielded by Harry. When he'd done the final thrust of magic into the sphere, he'd pushed it away from his friends and stepped in front of Ginny to protect her from the explosion.

Casualties from the battlefield arrived continually, making the hospital a noisy, frightening place. Ginny sat next to Harry and took his hand in hers, trying not to listen to the staff who were so anxiously working on him, and only answering the healer working on her in monosyllables. Once he was finished with her, she sat like an island of calm in a raging sea, letting the staff do whatever they wanted to except for moving her. That she would not do. Merlin sat on the head of Harry's bed, having healed all of the wounds on Harry and Ginny that he could, singing his lovely songs of comfort, but they weren't comforting Ginny now.

Ginny looked at Harry's hand. His palm was burned with images of griffins and phoenixes that matched the carvings on his wand.

"Nurse?" she said quietly to the woman standing closest to her.

"What is it?" the woman snapped.

"His hand's burned. Could I have some essence of Murtlap for it? Or something else? This has to hurt," she said simply.

The woman glanced down at Harry's hand. "Yes, he is badly burned. He has a lot of other more serious injuries right now, young lady. We'll get to that later."

"I can do this," Ginny murmured. She got up and found her bag, which had been shoved against the wall, then reached into it and pulled out her burn ointment.

"What are you doing?" the nurse snapped when she saw Ginny sit back down by Harry and open the ointment.

"I can do this for him," Ginny insisted.

"Leave her alone," Marcus told the nurse. "She knows what she's doing."

Ginny gave him a grateful look and started rubbing the ointment into Harry's hand, working it into every wrinkle in his palm, into the creases in his fingers, rubbing gently until the potion was fully absorbed. She put her small pot of medicine away and took his hand in hers again, sighing. "I wish I could do more for you, baby," she said, leaning forward to wipe some blood from his face with her fingers.

"Here," another nurse said kindly, handing her a bowl of warm water and a flannel she'd been about to use. "You can wash him. That would be a help."

"Thank you!" Ginny said, truly grateful for the woman's kindness. She began washing his face, carefully cleaning the blood out of the shell of his ears, out of his eyelashes, out of his nostrils, away from his mouth. She carefully worked on a bloody patch in his hair thinking there must be a wound hidden there, but apparently the blood was from some other part of his body, because his scalp there was uninjured. Her cleaning revealed the numerous cuts and burns on his face and neck.

"Well done, Ginny," Marcus said, glancing up at her work. "How about doing his arms next?"

She set to work with a will, knowing they were keeping her busy while they worked on his most serious injuries, but that what she was doing was also a help. Merlin came behind her, pouring tears into whatever open wounds he could find.

"That's all I can do for him for now," Marcus said with a sigh a short time later. "Now we wait." As he and the rest of his team stepped back from Harry's still form, Merlin hopped down and nestled next to Harry's side, continuing his healing song.

"How is he?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"I won't lie to you, Ginny. It doesn't look good. It's up to him now," Marcus said sadly.

"It doesn't look good?" she said in a tiny voice. "Tell me the truth, Marcus."

He studied her face. She had that determined look that told him she was going to keep after him until he was honest with her. He sighed, not wanting to put into words what he was thinking. "Are you sure?"

"Tell me!"

He sighed again. "All right then. He has a tremendous number of serious internal injuries, any one of which would take a long time to heal even with wizarding medicine. The combination of things that are wrong with him, and the amount of blood he's lost, and he's weak, exhausted . . . well, if he had just one or two of the things wrong with him that he has now, he'd be in bad shape, but he could recover. With the combination he's got. . . ." He let that thought dangling.

Ginny gulped, and forced herself to say, "What are his chances?"

Marcus clasped her shoulder and looked at her gravely. "Do you really want to know?" When she nodded, he said, "Right now, he has about a ten percent chance to live, Ginny. But he's a fighter. He could pull through. Don't give up on him."

Ginny felt as if her chest was caving in, her heart had contracted so tightly at hearing the news. She was beyond tears for now. She just stared at Marcus in disbelief for a long moment, then nodded, swallowed hard and went back to gently washing the blood and dirt off of Harry. Marcus patted her sympathetically on the shoulder and left to see to his other patients.

A short time later, the door opened just a crack and someone peeped in. "There you are!" Molly Weasley said in relief. "I've been looking everywhere!'

Ginny glanced up at her mother, then turned back to her task. "Hi. How's Ron? His leg looked pretty bad."

Molly leaned down and pushed Ginny's long hair behind her ear so she could see her daughter's face. She looked from Ginny to Harry then, gasping at how pale Harry looked. "How is he?" she murmured.

Ginny shook her head, willing herself not to cry. "Not so good."

"What's wrong with him?"

"It might be easier to say what isn't wrong with him," Ginny replied quietly.

"Tell me," Molly urged, sounding much as her daughter had not that long ago.

Ginny had been listening more carefully than she'd realized while the healers worked. "He has a lot of broken bones. They've managed to mend most of them already. Most of his internal organs are damaged, some of them quite badly. He has a concussion. He's been bleeding internally. They think they have it stopped, but there might be other places they haven't found yet. He's lost a lot of blood. They've given him a transfusion. I offered my blood, but," here she finally broke into sobs, "they wouldn't take it."

"Why not?" Molly asked, taking her grieving daughter into her arms and rocking her gently. "Why wouldn't they, baby?"

"B-b-because I was injured too."

Molly pushed her back and looked her over thoroughly, tucking stray wisps of Ginny's hair behind her ears, sliding her fingers through her daughter's hair searching for bumps, cuts, wounds of some kind. "Where are you injured? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine now. I had a concussion and some cuts and spell burns, but they fixed most of them." Ginny pulled away angrily from her mother's still-searching hands. "I'm all right, Mum! It's Harry!"

"Let's see, then," Molly said, bending over the boy she loved as much as one of her own. She'd bent over this young man this way far too many times, trying to find out where he was injured and how she could help. "He does look a bit peaky."

"He's got a lot more colour than he did a little while ago," Ginny said, nodding toward the transfusion bag which was half empty now.

Molly got another flannel and started washing Harry's other leg, following Ginny's example.

"Tell me about the others," Ginny said, hoping for some good news. "How's Ron's leg? How's Hermione? They were caught in the blast along with Harry and me."

"Ron's leg is . . . well . . . ." Molly had to stop and clear her throat, doing her best not to cry. "It's badly damaged."

"How badly?" Ginny asked slowly, hearing something in her mother's voice that scared her terribly.

Molly looked up at her daughter, her eyes full of tears. "He may lose the leg, Ginny."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "What?"

"The bone is broken into tiny little pieces. They've tried to reassemble it, but now they're worried about infection. If it doesn't start to mend quickly . . . ." She shook her head, angrily wiping tears off her cheeks with the back of her wrist.

"Oh, no! How's he taking it?"

"They have him so drugged up right now, he has no idea what's going on."

"How's Hermione?" Ginny asked nervously.

"About the same as you, I think, although she didn't get any cuts. Spell burns and a concussion. She's feeling very guilty. She keeps saying Ron wouldn't have gotten hurt so badly if he hadn't tried to protect her." She shook her head, and then went on. "What happened?"

"We got hurt when Harry killed Voldemort. I'll tell you about it later. How's everyone else? Dad? Fred? Bill and Charlie?"

Molly stopped working and stared off into the distance, unable to speak. Her face was a study in tension.

"Mum? What's wrong?"

"Your dad's doing well," she said quickly. "He lost some blood and had some serious spell damage, but they expect a full recovery in a few days."

"The boys?"

"George stayed in Grimmauld Place, although I had to put a spell on his bed so he couldn't get up. He was determined to join the fight. Fred is fine. Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious at all. Apparently, sailing above it all on a broom and lobbing bombs is a much safer way to fight a war than on your own two feet face to face with the enemy." She lost all control then, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

"Bill? Charlie?" Ginny asked, afraid of the answer.

"Charlie has a broken arm and some spell burns. Bill . . . Bill's . . . ."

"He's not . . . dead?"

Molly nodded wordlessly, her face contorted with grief.

"NO! Not Bill!" Ginny gasped, reaching across Harry's still form to squeeze her mother's arm. "Not Bill?" Molly nodded wordlessly.

The news about Bill hit Ginny hard, but she was already so numb from shock and grief that it didn't much matter that she'd been hit with another horrible bit of news. She took a deep breath and willed herself to be strong, then looked at her heartbroken mother. "Oh, Mum, I'm so sorry! How are you managing? Here you are, trying to help me. . . ."

"I'm heavily medicated right now, sweetheart, or I'd be screaming," Molly assured her. "They tried Cheering Charms, but even the strongest ones had no effect."

"Do the others know?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"Ron doesn't. I don't know what to do. I mean, we've just lost Percy! And now Bill!" Molly's voice had risen to a shriek. She threw down the flannel and paced around the room anxiously, tearing at her hair in her distress.

"What's going on in here?" Marcus said, coming into the room suddenly. "I heard someone yelling."

"My mum," Ginny began, then shrugged, not knowing what else to say. If she mentioned the deaths of either of her brothers, she'd be crying uncontrollably along with her mum. She glanced from Marcus to her mother, then went back to washing Harry.

"Mrs. Weasley, you need to rest," he said kindly, putting his arm around her. "Come on, your husband has been asking for you."

"Oh, he has?" she said, her eyes searching his. "My children are scattered all over this hospital. I couldn't find Ginny. . . ."

"She's doing very well," Marcus assured her. "Come on, Harry needs peace and quiet. He's not allowed any visitors for a while. You can come back later, all right?"

Molly nodded and started to follow him out of the room, but then she turned back to her daughter. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't seem to. . . ."

Ginny ran to her mother and embraced her. "It'll be all right eventually, Mum. Give Dad my love. Tell him I'm fine, and that I'll come see him when Harry's better."

After settling Molly into a comfortable chair in Arthur's room, Marcus returned to check on Harry.

"How's he doing?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"His colour's a bit better, but he's not out of the woods yet," Marcus told her, his eyes sad. He turned to her. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Would you like a Cheering Charm or some potion to help you relax?"

"No. I want to be alert so I can help Harry," she said stubbornly.

"That's what I thought," he said, smiling down at her. "You're quite a young lady, Miss Weasley. He's a lucky man to have you."

"I'm lucky to have him," she said, her lower lip trembling as she fought back tears.

Dumbledore strode into the room just then. "There he is!" he said when his eyes lit on Harry. "How is he?"

"Not too good, Professor," Marcus said, shaking his head as he washed his hands. "I don't know what else to do for him."

"Let me have a look," Dumbledore said, moving next to Harry's bed. "How are you, Miss Weasley?" he said kindly.

"I won't know that until he's better," Ginny said, continuing to wash blood off Harry's limbs.

"Do you have the same healing power Harry does?" Marcus asked the headmaster quietly.

"No. I wish I did. But Harry has shown me a trick or two that might come in handy, and I do have a few ideas of my own." He turned toward the door. "Fawkes! In here!" The phoenix flashed into the room and settled on the opposite side of Harry's body from Merlin. They crooned their soothing songs, doing what they could to help him heal.

"We've been busy on the battlefield helping to sort out those who needed to come here and those who could go to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said by way of explanation. He put his hands on either side of Harry's head and started slowly working his way down the young man's body, sensing for wrongness inside him. When he got to Harry's abdomen, he paused. "He's bleeding inside, just here. I don't know anatomy well enough to say for certain, but I would guess it's his liver? Possibly?"

"I didn't find a site of bleeding there," Marcus said in concern.

"It's smallish, I believe," Dumbledore said, placing his hands carefully on Harry's body. "I don't know how to heal such things. Harry showed me how to sense for them, but I don't trust myself on it yet. But I can definitely feel a wrongness here."

Marcus examined Harry again, and added another potion to his IV. "Anything else?"

"He has lost a lot of blood, yes?" Dumbledore said.

"Yes."

"I want to give him some of mine," Dumbledore said firmly.

"Professor, you're in no shape to--" Marcus began.

"I will be the judge of that," Dumbledore replied.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I just can't do that. I've got him on a transfusion from our blood storage. That will have to do."

"He can have mine!" Ginny offered.

"You've been injured too, although you keep ignoring my advice to rest," Marcus told her fondly. "No, you can't give him blood right now. We'll see in a little while if he needs more. I have a lot of other patients to check on, so I'll leave you for a few minutes. I'll check back in a little while," he said distractedly as he hurried out of the door.

Ginny and Dumbledore were left alone with Harry for the moment. Various instruments hummed, beeped or chirped, recording Harry's life force as it struggled to remain in his body.

"I need your help," Dumbledore told Ginny after a moment's reflection. He took a roll of gauze off a supply table. "Here, you'll need this," he said, handing it to Ginny. He gently lifted Harry's freshly washed arm and looked at it, studying the pattern of the veins in it. Then he shoved up his own sleeve and studied the veins there. "Yes," he said, "I think this will do admirably." He picked up the flannel and scrubbed his arm and the tip of the index finger of his left hand clean. He did the same to Harry.

"What will?" Ginny asked, completely lost.

"Watch and see. And cross your fingers. I've never done this before, but it seems logical that it will work," he said hopefully. He pulled a small silver knife out of his pocket and pricked his finger, lifting a drop of blood from it and depositing it in a small flagon he removed from his inside pocket. He pricked Harry's finger and lifted a drop of blood on his knife tip, dripping it into the same flagon. Then he opened a small bottle he drew from another pocket and, after carefully cleaning and drying his knife tip, he dipped the knife into the bottle, drawing out a few grains of some crystalline powder that glowed a rich, cobalt blue. He dipped his knife into the flagon with his and Harry's blood, submerging the crystals in the blood. A quick swirl later, and the blood had turned to a pure, clear gold in colour.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, capping the bottle and the flagon, pressing a clean bandage to Harry's fingertip and his own, and tucking the bottle and flagon back in his pocket. A moment later, he checked to make sure both of their fingers had stopped bleeding. "And now we can get down to business," he said with a wink at Ginny.

"Professor, what did you do?" she asked, totally confused.

"I tested our blood. They're a good match, as I expected them to be," he murmured. He lifted his silver knife again and touched it to the crook of his elbow, opening a vein that dripped a steady stream of blood. He did the same thing on Harry's arm, then quickly laid his arm over Harry's so the two streams of blood mingled. "Now wrap our arms together tightly," he told Ginny. "I don't want any of this blood to go to waste."

She did as he instructed and soon Dumbledore's arm was tightly bound to Harry's.

"Now comes the tricky part," he said, taking a deep breath. He tapped their joined arms with his wand, then closed his eyes and concentrated.

Ginny could see the professor getting paler by the moment. "Professor, stop! You're losing too much blood!" she cried.

"Almost done," he said benignly.

"But-- "

"Patience is a virtue, Miss Weasley," he said calmly. "Nearly there, I think. Yes. All right, you can take this off now." He touched his wand to the juncture between his and Harry's arms as he pulled away and Ginny could see their skin had actually adhered together, with no blood lost except for the first few drops that had emerged when he'd originally opened their veins. Each phoenix stood and dripped tears in the openings he'd made in their veins, sealing them instantly.

"He looks a bit pinker," she said hopefully.

"I'm not finished yet," he assured her. He passed his wand above Harry's body repeatedly, running the length and breadth of the young man's form over and over, muttering a long incantation under his breath, his eyes closed in concentration. When he finished, he fell into a chair in exhaustion, pale as a ghost himself.

"Professor! Do you want me to call someone?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"No, dear girl, I'll be fine in a few moments. Do you happen to have any sweets in your pockets? I could use a pick-me-up."

She pulled out a box of Peppermint Toads and his eyes lit up with delight.

"Ah, I haven't had any of those in a long time! Thank you."

Ginny sat down and watched Harry's colour improve minute by minute. "Professor," she asked, "what did you do?"

"I gave him a good strong dose of my magic, then controlled my magic within him to help heal and strengthen him," Dumbledore explained as he savoured the sweets she'd given him.

Ginny was stunned. "Does that mean you have less magic? Did you give up your magic for him?"

"No, a wizard cannot give up his magic. He might refuse to use it, but he can't just give it away. It's part of our blood. Since our blood is constantly renewed by the functioning of our bodies, our magic is constantly renewed as well. Don't worry. I'll be fine once I've had enough sweets," he concluded, waving a Peppermint Frog in the air as illustration.

Marcus entered the room once more. "How's our patient doing?" he asked Ginny, but then his eyes fell on Dumbledore. "What's wrong, Professor? You look ill."

"One of my favourite students is lying here in pain, which grieves me greatly," Dumbledore said in all seriousness, "and more of my students, friends and colleagues currently fill both Hogwarts hospital wing and St. Mungo's emergency ward. I believe all of these circumstances could quite logically contribute to my looking ill. And I am rather old, after all," he added as an apparent afterthought.

Marcus gave him a sceptical look, and then turned to Harry, whose colour was vastly improved. "Looks like the transfusion is doing him some good," he said with satisfaction, not noticing the wink Dumbledore gave Ginny behind his back. He looked at the nearly empty transfusion bag, then examined his patient again. "I thought he'd need at least two bags, but he's much better now." He turned and smiled at Dumbledore. "Your catching that little bleeder in his liver probably turned the tide. Thank you."

Dumbledore nodded serenely. "Always delighted to be of assistance," he said with a smile. "Well, I must be going. I have other students to check on."

"Professor?" Ginny said suddenly.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"Have you seen Ron? How's he doing?" she asked anxiously.

"Would you like me to stay with Harry so you can go and see him?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

Ginny hesitated, glancing from her headmaster to her boyfriend's still face. "I don't want to leave Harry. I want to be here when he wakes up."

"I don't think he'll wake up for a while, Ginny," Marcus said kindly. "Ron's directly across the hall, and Remus Lupin's in the room to the right of Ron's. Why don't you go see them? You'll probably feel better once you've seen them yourself."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Harry's not going to wake up soon?"

"Not for a while. I'd say you have at least an hour or so, maybe more, before he stirs," Marcus said, his prediction more optimistic than he really felt.

"I will not leave him until you return," Dumbledore promised. "I could stand a rest myself, quite honestly. I'll be happy to sit with him."

"Well. . .all right, then. Thank you," she said seriously. She bent over Harry and kissed his forehead, whispering, "I'm going to see Ron for a few minutes. I'll be right back, sweetheart," before she left.

* * * * *

"Ginny!" Hermione said as Ginny entered the room. "How's Harry? How are you?"

"I'm fine," Ginny said dismissively, avoiding answering the question about Harry altogether. "How's Ron?" Her brother's vibrant hair looked shocking against the paleness of his face. Even his freckles were pale. He was asleep, his leg in a cast and hung from an overhead contraption.

"You heard about his leg?" Hermione asked quietly, moving away from his bed to speak to Ginny without disturbing him.

"Yes, Mum told me."

"They weren't able to set it the way they wanted to. It's completely shattered. They may have to treat it several times before they get everything lined up the way it should be. And if it gets infected--" she said, her eyes huge and brimming with unshed tears.

"Don't say it," Ginny said fiercely. "Mum told me, but that's just not going to happen."

Hermione put her hand on her friend's arm. "It could happen, Ginny. We all need to be prepared for it."

Ginny bit back a retort. Hermione was going through a similar kind of agony to the one Ginny was experiencing, sitting by the hospital bed of the man she loved, hoping he'd recover. Hermione didn't need any displays of the famous Weasley temper just now. Ginny pulled her best friend into a warm embrace and held her for a few moments, then moved to sit by Ron's bed. She took one of his large hands in her small one, amazed as always at the contrast. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she watched him sleep, a grimace of pain crossing his face from time to time.

"Don't they have him on pain potions?" she asked Hermione.

"Yes, but they have to be careful how much they give right now. He's lost a lot of blood. The muscles on his leg were badly torn, and he had big wounds in his back from the explosion, as well. The phoenixes healed those before we left the battlefield," Hermione assured Ginny when she heard her gasp. Ron was lying on his back in the bed. If he'd still had injuries there, he wouldn't be able to lie like that.

The girls sat quietly by his bed watching him sleep. A soft snore escaped him, making both of them giggle unexpectedly.

"That sounds like Ron, all right," Ginny said with a sad smile.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

Ginny looked at her watch. "I should get back. Professor Dumbledore is sitting with Harry while I'm gone, and I'm sure he has other things to do."

"Thanks for coming in. I'll tell him you were here."

"Harry and I are just across the hall. Come see us if you get a break. I'm going to pop into Remus's room so I can tell Harry how he is when Harry wakes up." The girls hugged, and Ginny went next door to Remus's room.

* * * * *

"Hi, Tonks," Ginny said as she walked into Remus's room. "How is he?"

"He's . . . he's going to be fine," Tonks said with great determination.

Ginny recognized the attitude. "That bad?" she said quietly.

Tonks kept a brave face for a moment, then dissolved in tears. Ginny held the young woman and cried with her, both of them grieving for the men they loved. Remus had become a father to Harry. If he died . . . Ginny didn't want to think about it. And Harry - she certainly wasn't going to think about that, either.

"How's Harry?" Tonks said when she calmed down a bit.

"About like Remus, I think," Ginny said sadly, "but his colour's better. Professor Dumbledore found some internal bleeding and Healer Pomfrey was able to fix it."

"Oh, that's good," Tonks said, settling back in her chair. "I wish I'd been there. I would have looked after them."

"They would have been hurt trying to protect you and that baby," Ginny reminded her.

"Yeah," Tonks admitted, blushing a bit.

"How is the baby? Have you seen a healer yet to be sure Harry was right?"

"Yes. He was right. I'm about two months along," Tonks said with a small smile. "Hard to believe."

"I'm happy for you, Tonks." She sat there thinking, At least if she loses Remus, she'll have his child. I wish. . . . She shook herself. That wasn't the right way to think. Harry was going to be fine and they'd have plenty of children a few years from now.

"Well, I should get back to Harry. Professor Dumbledore is staying with him so I could see how Remus and Ron are." She got up to leave.

"I heard about Ron's leg. I hope they can fix it," Tonks said sincerely.

"Me, too," Ginny said. She hugged the other woman and touched Remus's shoulder gently before leaving. "Take care. We're across the hall if you want to come and see us when you take a break."

"OK. See you later. Thanks for coming," Tonks said, settling back in her seat and smoothing her husband's greying hair off of his forehead, much as Ginny had done with Harry so many times. Ginny wondered if it was a universal thing for women to do when their men were ill. She sighed, waved at Tonks and left the room.

* * * * *

After checking on Remus, Ginny went to see her dad and Charlie for a few minutes each. When she returned, she found Harry still unconscious. His colour was better and it looked as if he was breathing a bit more easily.

"Any change?" she asked Dumbledore as she took Harry's hand in hers.

"He seems to be more comfortable. Healer Pomfrey was in just a moment ago and said he was pleased with his progress, although he did add that Harry's not out of the woods yet," Dumbledore replied quietly. "How's your family?"

Ginny swallowed hard, doing her best not to sob. She turned brimming eyes to her headmaster and said, "Did you hear about B-B-Bill?"

"Yes. I'm so very sorry. I thought a great deal of him."

Ginny just nodded, sniffling and trying to call back the tears that threatened to spill down her face.

"Your father? Your other brothers? How are they?" he said kindly.

"Ron . . . he may l-lose his leg," she choked out. "Charlie and Dad are going to be OK. Fred had only minor injuries. He was treated and released right away."

"And your mother managed to keep George from joining the battle?" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling a moment at the thought of what Molly might have done to keep George in bed.

Ginny just nodded, then sat down where she could hold Harry's hand. She began smoothing his hair over and over, just as Tonks had been doing with Remus, and as Ginny herself had done so many times before. The contact with him seemed to calm her.

Dumbledore watched her for a moment, then said, "I'm sure that's comforting to Harry."

"He likes it when I do this," she whispered. "He says he loves it when he's a cat and I stroke him, so I stroke him like this when he's human, as well. Sometimes he'll try to purr," she said, her voice breaking. "He's so silly." A sob escaped her for a moment, then she steeled herself again.

"Yes, he is quite silly at times," Dumbledore said with a sad smile, remembering all the times Harry's quirky sense of humour had made him laugh over the years. "You're taking very good care of him, Ginny. Keep up the good work. I'll go and see how everyone else is doing, all right?" She nodded. He patted her gently on the back and then left.

* * * * *

"Harry, please, please wake up," Ginny said for probably the thousandth time. "Please, baby. You need to wake up. Come back to me. You need to get well. Please. . . ." She'd been talking to him for hours, and was exhausted and heartsick. She thought he looked a little better but it was so hard to tell, and he still showed no signs of waking. Ginny pulled her chair closer to his bed and leaned forward, rested her head on the bed and pulled his hand onto her cheek. She held it there, savouring the feeling of his warm hand gently cupping her face. "Please, please, baby, wake up," she moaned. "I need you." She sat up and studied his hand, then kissed each of the impressions of griffins and phoenixes branded into his palm. "I don't know how you held that spell with your wand burning you like this," she said in wonder. "You amaze me." She leaned her head on the bed again and held his palm against her cheek, finally letting the tears come that she'd held back for so long. "Please, Harry. I can't take this much longer. Please wake up." She sobbed into his blanket, trying to muffle the sound. She cried until she had no tears left to shed. She kissed the heart of his palm as it lay against her face and finally gave in to sleep.

* * * * *

Harry heard someone crying. He tried to reach out to her - he was certain it was a woman - but he couldn't get to her somehow. He kept trying, but she was . . . just . . . out . . . of . . . reach. She finally quieted and he relaxed. Someone else must have comforted her. He was glad she wasn't crying anymore. The sound of her sobs nearly broke his heart.

After what seemed like years, he became aware of a warm, softly curved something in his hand, and something that tickled his palm rhythmically. What was it? He struggled against the darkness and finally managed to crack open his eyes, just the least bit. The light hurt his eyes and he quickly shut them again. But what was that in his hand? He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, then opened them again, ever so slowly, letting his eyes get used to the light gradually. There was a redheaded woman seated next to his bed, her head on his bed in what had to be an uncomfortable position. His hand was on her face for some reason. That rhythmic tickling was her breath. With a tremendous effort of will, he stroked her smooth cheek with his thumb.

Ginny sat up with a start. Something had touched her cheek. What was it? She sat up and looked around. She and Harry were still alone - or were alone again, she didn't know or care which. She looked down at him and her heart leapt to see those green eyes studying her. "Harry!"

Harry tried to speak. "Muh-uh-uh. . ."

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Mum?" he croaked out.

Ginny sat back in shock. "Mum? It's Ginny, baby! Don't you remember me?"

"Ginny?" he whispered slowly, his voice hoarse and scratchy. "I thought . . . you . . . were my mum. Where . . . is she?" He tried to look around the room, but his eyes kept coming back to Ginny.

"Oh, I'm a goose. Here, baby," she said, putting his glasses on his face. "Better?"

He smiled. "Ginny," he breathed contentedly. "Hi."

"Hi yourself, handsome!" she said, happier than she'd been in ages. "It's good to see you awake."

"Good to be . . . awake," he said slowly, trying to look around the room, but too weak to turn his head very far. "Where's . . . my mum? And my . . . dad? Sirius?"

Ginny shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what you mean, baby. They're . . . they're not here. They haven't been here."

"I was . . . just . . . with them," he said, his face puzzled.

Just then, Marcus Pomfrey walked in. "Ah, I see our patient is awake!" he said jovially.

"Marcus, he thinks his parents and his godfather were just here," Ginny said, her face filled with concern, but trying to keep her voice light. She leaned in and whispered, "They're all dead, have been for years."

"Really?" Marcus said, his eyes alight with interest. "Harry, did you just visit your parents and godfather?"

"Yes, they were . . . right here," he said, still confused, but his voice was growing stronger. "Only we . . . we weren't here. We were in a beautiful place. . . ."

As Harry's voice trailed off, his eyes distant, Marcus leaned down to Ginny. "Get a parchment and quill and write down whatever he says. He'll want to remember this."

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"I'll explain later," Marcus promised. He turned back to Harry. "Tell us about the place where you were, and your family, Harry. Did they talk to you?"

Harry's face was lit with an otherworldly light, his eyes unfocused, his voice soft and tender. "We . . . we were in a beautiful place, gorgeous blue sky, a light breeze, golden light. Great flying weather. There were phoenixes singing. My parents were there. They hugged me and we talked, and then Sirius joined us."

"What did you talk about?" Ginny asked, understanding now why Marcus wanted her to write these things down.

"They know about us, Ginny," Harry said, his eyes finally focusing on her as he smiled. "Dad said we have a Quidditch team to raise. Sirius knows about the motorcycle." A weak snort of laughter escaped him, making him groan in pain for a moment. When he caught his breath, he smiled and said, "He said chicks love it." He studied Ginny for a moment. "My mum is taller than you. Her hair is shorter, but it's still long. It's not a Weasley red. She's so beautiful - her pictures don't do her justice. My dad isn't as big as me but he's strong, like an athlete. Sirius looked great. They all looked wonderful - happy, healthy . . . . Mum and Dad weren't much older than me. It was strange, seeing them like that, realizing they were only a few years older than me, and yet they're my parents." His eyes were distant again, his face lit with excitement and joy. "They said they're proud of me," he added in an awestruck voice. "They're proud of me." His eyes flashed to Ginny's for a moment. "And they love me, Gin, they all said they love me."

"That's fantastic, sweetheart," Ginny said in wonder. She couldn't imagine anything that would mean more to Harry than actually hearing his parents' approval of him, and hearing them say that they loved him. No wonder he looked so blissful.

"You said you hugged them, Harry," Marcus prompted. "How did they feel?"

"What do you mean? How should they feel? Hugging my mum was wonderful - she smells just like I remember." He smiled and savoured the memory for a moment.

"Where were you?" Marcus asked.

Harry's eyes clouded. "My dad said I was . . .'between.' He said I had to choose. I wanted to stay with them, but they said I had a life to live and a Quidditch team to raise with Ginny." His eyes cleared and he smiled at his girlfriend, who was wiping tears from her eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"You wanted to stay, but you came back," she said simply.

"I heard you calling me," he replied. "I had to come back. I didn't want to leave you behind." He slowly, painfully lifted his arm and touched her cheek with one gentle finger, wiping away her tears.

Ginny leaned her cheek into his hand, kissing his palm and relishing the wonderful liveliness in his hand now that he was awake. "Thank you for coming back to me, love."

"I plan to love you for a very, very long time," he said, gazing seriously into her eyes.

"Me, too," she choked out between sobs.

Marcus took the parchment from Ginny before her tears spoiled the ink, and added a few notes himself. "Here, Harry. It's time you had a dose of pain potion. You'll feel the effects of it in a few minutes," Marcus said, holding a small flagon to Harry's lips and lifting the young man's head a bit so he could swallow more easily. "I'll check in on you two later," he said, then quietly left the room.

"Thanks," Harry murmured as he settled back in the bed. He was awake enough now that his pain was becoming a burden. He'd be glad when the potion kicked in. He looked at Ginny again, and wiped more tears from her eyes. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing. I'm just so relieved . . ." she said, waving her hands around ineffectually. "I can't seem to stop crying."

"You look exhausted," he said in concern.

"I am," she admitted.

He opened his arm invitingly. "Come here. You need to rest."

"Oh no, I might hurt you. You were terribly injured."

"I would feel better if I was holding you," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. "Come on. You know you want to. And we'll be breaking school rules again, which is always a plus, right?"

"We're at St. Mungo's, sweetie, not the hospital wing," she said cautiously, a smile tickling the corners of her mouth. Harry was being mischievous. What better sign of returning health could there be?

"Whatever," he said blithely, feeling much better now that the pain potion was starting to work. "Come on."

"You hate St. Mungo's," she said in surprise. "Why aren't you upset about being here?"

"I'm alive, you're alive, we're together - that's good enough for now," he said, yawning hugely. "'Scuse me."

"You need to rest."

"Didn't I just wake up?" he asked curiously.

"You were unconscious, silly, not asleep," she said, giving him a cheeky grin through her tears.

"I'm tired," he murmured. "C'mere." He grabbed her hand and pulled, then groaned and lay there panting when that small effort caused him pain.

"See? You're hurt. You don't need me in your bed."

"Yes . . ., I do. It . . . hurt when you . . . didn't cooperate," he said obstinately between agonized breaths.

Ginny knew that stubborn glint in his eye wouldn't go away easily, so she cautiously climbed onto his bed and lay beside him, resting her head as gently as possible on his shoulder.

"That's better," he said with satisfaction, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Comfy?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed, laughing as she sniffled, battling more tears.

"If you need to cry, just go ahead and do it," he said gently. "I don't mind." He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead as she nestled against him. "I love you."

"I love you, Harry, so much, I just can't tell you," she said, crying anew because he'd told her he loved her. For an agonizingly long time, she'd been afraid she'd never hear those words from him again. "I just hope I can stop crying sometime this month."

"How is it possible that you're even beautiful when you cry?" he said, gazing down at her.

"You liar!" she teased. "My eyes are red and puffy, my nose . . .we don't want to talk about my nose . . . my face is probably all blotchy. . . ."

"Nope," he said confidently. "You are beautiful. Don't argue with me." He yawned hugely, his jaw cracking, making both of them giggle. "Sorry."

"OK," she said with a blissful sigh and settled her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too," he murmured. In a very short time, both of them were asleep.