A Greater Good

Of Death and Glory

By gracious powers so wonderfully sheltered,

And confidently waiting come what may,

We know that God is with us night and morning,

and never fails to greet us each new day.

Yet is this heart by its old foe tormented,

Still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;

Oh, give our frightened souls the sure salvation

For which, O Lord, You taught us to prepare.

And when this cup You give is filled to brimming

With bitter suffering, hard to understand,

We take it thankfully and without trembling,

Out of so good and so beloved a hand.

Yet when again in this same world You give us

The joy we had, the brightness of Your Sun,

We shall remember all the days we lived through,

And our whole life shall then be Yours alone.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Oliver Wood entered the changing room at Puddlemere stadium, the usual crowd that gathered to view the team warm-ups already beginning to swell. His friend, Darnby Biggles, a beater, had already suited up and was applying the finishing touches by using his wand to lace up his knee high dragon skin boots. "Great day for flyin', eh, Wood?" he said, turning to look at the youngest starter on the team. "Reckon if we can take this one then we have a chance of making the playoffs."

Wood, however, did not answer, lost in his own thoughts about the game, feeling the pressure of the expectations that always seemed to build up before the start of any match. He had been playing Quidditch competitively for years now, and yet the pre-match jitters never truly went away. The anticipation of a good match buoyed him up, although pressure seemed to weigh on his young shoulders as well. Idly gazing out the window, Wood saw twin streaks of silver whiz past his vision, causing him to jump, his heart racing. Surely it wasn't time yet, for the events placed in motion to finally be resolved. Puzzled, Wood turned towards the door, watching calmly now as the streaks burst through it before manifesting themselves into identical giant raccoons that skidded to a halt in front of Wood.

"Blimey mate, what are those?" Darnby interjected, an expression of petulant surprise upon his face. Wood shushed him irritably before swiveling to regard the raccoons, obviously patronuses, who were now standing on their hind legs.

"It's time Wood, in Hogsmeade," the one on the right said in Fred Weasley's voice, barely finishing speaking before the one on the left nearly knocked it over in excitement.

"Yeah mate, you'd better hurry or you'll miss all the fun!" the second one chimed in, the voice precisely that of Fred's twin brother George. The first raccoon soundly cuffed the one who had just spoken, which ruefully rubbed its head while looking at its twin angrily.

"Oy, what was that for?" it inquired.

"That was for interrupting me, while I'm giving my message."

"So what, I'm the important one anyway, and to top it off, better looking as well." The first raccoon smoothed down its fur, turning to leave, although casting a head back over its shoulder. "Besides, you're just too dumb to even remember a message, let alone give one."

"Am I?" The second raccoon now launched itself at the first with a suppressed cry of rage, the two of them tangling to create a rolling ball of fur, from which it was impossible to determine which raccoon was indeed which. Ignoring the spectators in the locker room, the writhing ball rolled out the door before disappearing, still fighting, leaving a shocked Wood and even more befuddled Darnby standing in the silent dressing room.

The roar of the small but vocal crowd on the other side the window jerked Wood out of his reverie. Sensing the urgency of the message, if delivered rather clumsily, he threw his quidditch kit back into the locker, pausing only to lace up his own knee-high boots before taking up his wand and imbuing his cloak with a few choice defensive charms. "Protego Indigens" he shouted, before hurriedly turning and striding out the door.

"But wait..." Darnby yelled after him, "...the match!" Wood paused for a second and turned back to look at the paunchy figure, momentarily confused at his friend's lack of understanding.

"There are more important things than Quidditch," Wood said calmly, before turning on his heel and disappearing with an audible pop. He left behind a severely bewildered Darnby, who let his cloak drop from shaking fingers, unable to fully understand the importance of what had just transpired.

Wood reappeared in the darkened streets of Hogsmeade Village, looking about for anyone watching for his arrival. Seeing none, he looked around for any sign of human presence. Discovering only a sole lighted window along the darkened street, he hurried towards it. Upon reaching the imposing façade of the weathered building, he was able to read the dirt-encrusted sign hanging over the door that idly swung back and forth, creaking as it did so. Casting a final glance along the darkened street he turned on his heel, and entered the building, the Hog's Head pub. The smoky interior of the bar obscured Wood's vision, though it cleared quickly, the smoke rushing out to join the cool night air. The place was vacant, except for him and a man standing behind the bar who growled irritably at him from across the room, "shut the door."

Wood obliged the barkeep with only momentary hesitation, enraptured by the old man, whose relationship in appearance to the late Albus Dumbledore could not be ignored. With a jerky start Wood strode quickly across the room, up to the bar, and approached the man who did not look surprised to receive him.

"Another one?" the old man asked, his piercing blue eyes sizing up Wood, while seeming to look deep inside him at the same time.

"Are you..." Wood began to ask quizzically, cocking his head as he did so.

"My name is Aberforth," the man interjected, snapping Wood's head back to upright. This man was Dumbledore's brother.

Shaken, Wood continued. "My name is Oliver..." he began, though the old man once again cut him off abruptly.

"It don't matter your name," he said gruffly, "s' long as you're here to help."

"The Weasleys..." Wood stammered, more unsure of himself then ever, however upon hearing the family name the old man's complexion softened.

"All right then," the old man, said more kindly, "up the tunnel with you." Wood looked up behind the bar to where the portrait of a smiling young girl had swung open wordlessly to reveal a long, dark tunnel. Wood climbed up on the mantelpiece, and turned to start down the long maw.

"Lumos," Wood whispered, turning back to the lit barroom. "Thanks..." he began, though the gruff old man cut him off.

"Don't mention it, seems my bar has become a regular railway station tonight, you just nip on up to the castle now, I'll probably be up soon." The castle. Now Wood knew that the final battle was sure to take place inside Hogwarts or its surrounding grounds. The place held a deep meaning for Wood, bringing back a cascade of memories, all of them many years old. It's funny how the mind sometimes works, amid impending doom and unbearable pressure it seems to take a mind of its own, and Wood needed to pull himself away from the safe refuge that was his own head. Steeling his expression he set off up the tunnel, his lit wand held before him, going forth to do his duty, the one he had promised to do so long ago.

The tunnel grew larger as he walked along it, utterly alone except for his glowing wand, which pulsed softly in front of him, driving back the shadows. Was this to be it then, the final battle against Voldemort, the one who had ordered his brother killed, the one he had sworn to fight until his last breath? His wand light now revealed a thick oaken door which swung open to admit him into a large room where a knot of people had already gathered, standing in the center with their wands in hand, though casually lowered. Wood could sense the tension emanating from the room while he was still in the doorway.

He recognized many faces as he gazed around, taking stock of those who would stand beside him. His three former chasers, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet had all come, as Fred and George would have summoned them as well. He also recognized Remus Lupin, his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for his final year at Hogwarts, who was standing next to a tall, bald, black wizard, probably an Auror he reasoned. Fred and George's parents were there as well, looking slightly worried though determined not to show it, their twin sons standing near them. The rest of the group was filled out by Hogwarts students, many of whom Wood did not recognize, though a few, such as Neville Longbottom, had been at Hogwarts while he had still been there, meaning that by now, they must be close to seventeen.

With a tumble, Harry Potter nearly fell down the steps of another staircase leading into the room. Lupin ran over to Harry, the two of them conversing briefly, then turning so that Harry could address the room.

"They're beginning the evacuation," Harry projected so that all could listen. "Here though, we will fight. The world has abandoned us, and so our fate is in our own hands. Stand by me, so that the lives of all may be bettered."

Voldemort must be here already then, Wood mused to himself as he began to move towards the stairs with the rest of the room's inhabitants. Upon hearing Harry's pronouncement the general chorus had erupted with a cheer, and in the jostling that followed Wood found himself next to the Weasley twins.

"Wood," Fred began, "so glad you could make it."

"Told'ja he wouldn't want to be left out," George concluded, turning to look at the people around him. "We've got quite a turnout tonight."

"Yeah," said Fred, "would you believe it? It's a wonder what a few calls can do, old friends, teammates; no one wanted to be left out. If you haven't heard, Snape's left already, fought off b y McGonagall herself."

"And," George interrupted, "Voldemort evidently wasn't too pleased by the news his slimy servant brought, so he decided to lay the siege to the castle until we give up Harry."

"Give up Harry?" Wood questioned, obviously confused with this turn of events.

"The big man wants him for something," Fred interceded, "probably some 'boy-who-lived' stuff or something. Course we're not having any o' it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Wood said, inclining his head in assent. He was eager now for some action. En mass the knot of people dissolved into a stream that moved towards the room's exit. Fred and George were swept away in the crowd as they jogged down the stairs from the room. Wood would've sworn that he'd never seen the room that he was exiting before in his life, though from a cursory glance around, and from the size, he would have judged that impossible.

Wood followed the crowd down the corridor to the Great Hall, entering the massive room as the last of the younger Gryffindors were leaving to head to the evacuation point. He saw the fear in some of the littlest ones' eyes, those who clung to one another in fright, not knowing where to turn. This was what he had been fighting for his whole life, so that no one would have to feel scared, that no one would be left without parents like he had been. He fought, not just for personal revenge, and not for lasting glory, but for those, like the frightened ones parading before him, who could not stand up and fight for themselves.

The Great Hall's ceiling was dark now, though that did nothing to diminish the majesty of the place in which he now stood. "It's like coming back home," he breathed, "after a long holiday." He saw the long tables now being cleared to make room on the floor, and the smattering of older students who had joined the growing group of people now pledged to defend the castle. Wood saw his old teachers, discussing strategy up on the podium, and others, now firmly set upon a single course of action. Madam Pomfrey was readying bandages on the dais. The older students stood in little clumps, trying not to let their fear show. The Gryffindor students seemed unanimously determined now to give their all for their house and school and the other houses were just as determined to follow their lead. The rampant red lion embroidered on Wood's cloak seemed now to flash in the torchlight, to glow brightly with an inner flame on his chest. He was proud to fight alongside such company, to if necessary die alongside such company.

Wood heard the battle plan explained by the Auror he had seen upon entering the castle, how the defenders would divide up into three groups, those electing to stay inside the castle would further be divided into those firing curses from the towers, or defending the corridors and passageways. The third group, led by the Auror, who proclaimed his name as Kingsley Shacklebolt, would go outside of the castle and fight the battle in earnest. Wood chose to stick with the man, who seemed to radiate authority, as well as with Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley, who were also planning to lead fighters out into the grounds of Hogwarts. Wood thought that this gave him the best opportunity to search out the Death Eater Avery, his brother's killer, as well as to use his prodigious dueling skills in the utmost.

The group marched out the doors of the Great Hall and into the corridor that would lead them towards the front entrance of the castle. Wood was pleased to find that so many people had stayed behind to join the fight. Glancing around at his fellow resisters, he was pleased to discover that Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet were all marching with him. Their presence calmed him, for amidst all the impending chaos, there would be people around him that he could trust. He chided himself quietly, "Shouldn't I trust them all?"

"S-S-Sorry," a student whose name he did not know responded, "I couldn't catch that, mate." Wood turned to look into the eyes of the student, whose fear was beginning to creep through the imposed mask of determination. The student looked too young to be fighting, although Wood was not going to deny anyone the opportunity to fight that he had been afforded. What was a few years worth in the fight against evil? If they did not triumph tonight, then the fate of the wizarding world would be in serious doubt. Youth would be no shield against evil then. The unknown student still searched Wood's face for an answer.

"It was nothing," Wood responded, putting on a warming grin for the youngster. "Tell you what," he continued, "you stick close to me tonight, and we'll fight together." The boy gave an audible sigh of relief, some of the worry seeming to drain from his young face. "I'm Oliver..." Wood began before being interrupted.

"...Wood, I know," said the boy, "I'm Colin Creevey." The group had paused at the intersection of two corridors, stopping to take a few breaths and steady themselves. Colin had extended his hand and Wood shook it gravely, sealing the bond between them. With a jolt of realization Wood suddenly recognized the boy. In his sixth year Colin had been one of the victims of the Basilisk attacks coming from the opened Chamber of Secrets. Surely then, the boy could not be in more then his own sixth year at Hogwarts. However, Wood thought it was a moot issue to raise at the time.

"We'll keep on moving," Lupin announced, a wild look in his eyes as he addressed the group assembled before him. Wood counted thirty-five fighters around him, a small number to be sure, though better then nothing of course. "Soon we will exit out onto the grounds. When we do, spread out into a single staggered line. We will meet Voldemort's Army head on with out flinching. We will show him no fear, yet give no mercy. Do not expect any in return."

"Today," Kingsley Shacklebolt began, "we fight for those to weak to defend themselves, those who are too scared. What we face tonight is terrifying in and of itself, though that does not mean we need to fear it. Death shall have no hold over us tonight, as we fight for a greater good, one that Voldemort himself shall never understand. A mind so full of cruelty and hate cannot possibly understand the power of sacrifice and love, and that unquenchable fire that shall burn forever I the hearts of true." Wood felt Colin Creevey's hand searching for his own and he clasped it, determined to imbue the young boy with all the courage that he himself now struggled to find. Nevertheless, Wood was determined not to let that courage flee from him like mist.

Mr. Weasley now spoke. "Yes," he said calmly, "we fight today for something that is more then all of us, a greater good, one of many that must exist, instead of Voldemort's sole twisted image which leaves no room for interpretation. Know that powers greater than all of us have decreed as much, and that they are with us night and day, for the truth is a light unto itself, which shall always guide us home."

"Now then," Remus interrupted, "to battle we must go. These are evil days in which we live, and as such they bring burdens we all must bear. Bear yours proudly, for some know not how to carry it at all. Know that if you fall that the journey doesn't end, and we will meet again some day, in spirit if not in person. Glasses will be raised, and a new fire will spring up from the ashes, the light will always prevail. Fear no evil." The group now broke into a brisk walk again, Colin letting go of Wood's hand as he firmly gripped his own wand. Wood unsnapped his cloak from around his own shoulders, giving Colin its added protection.

"It will block one spell," Wood explained, "the first one that hits you." Colin nodded his understanding, eyes bone dry, his earlier fear erased by the solemn mood of those striding alongside him. Wood gave him a brief smile, seeing the corners of Colin's face twitch upwards briefly before his face became an unreadable mask. The group now rounded the corner and Wood could see the great entrance hall before him. At the end was the large oaken door through which they must stride, marching out to whatever end fate might have in store for them.

The front doors swung open and the group strode out into the night, the stars twinkling merrily, though no one bothered to look out at the beauty surrounding them. The group had organized themselves into two columns, which now fanned out into the agreed upon staggered line. Bravely they strode out through the doorway into the unknown, the grounds lit only by the half moon casting shadows across the spacious lawn. Never flinching, they walked out into the night, Arthur, Remus, and Shacklebolt out in front murmured together, Protego, with the cry being echoed up and down the line, which now was fully formed and moving as one unit.

The overlapping shields now extended forward beyond the three front runners, and they let their shields dissipate, summoning their patronuses to scout out in front of them before rejoining the shield. Arthur's weasel, Kingsley's Lynx, and Remus' wolf joined the procession, forming a vanguard that helped to dispel the pockets of darkness that dotted the grounds when the moon passed behind wisps of cloud.

Looking across the wide lawns, Wood saw that there was no cover, anyone who fell would stay down, bodies providing the only hiding spots during the battle that was to be joined. The walls of Hogwarts were now visible through the night, the guardian statues illuminated by the spells that were hitting a magically conjured shield. As he watched a gargoyle was hit by a jet of green light that exploded into fragments upon hitting the shield, though penetrated it still, blasting the gargoyle to smithereens.

"The barrier is falling," Lupin yelled, turning back to view the battle line. As one, the gathered witches and wizards broke into a quick trot, hastening to close the battle. With a roar the wall exploded, shooting a great jet of red flame high into the air. The line stopped, held breathless by the height and breadth of the roiling wave of dust and rubble.

"Stand now," Kingsley commanded, his voice calm among the chaos.

"Now," Arthur Weasley growled in a voice shaking with pent up emotion, "is the time to fight." He bent down into a waiting crouch, wand at the ready, his movement copied up and down the line. Wood raised his own wand high, his opposite arm extended in front guiding the shield charm that still floated in front of him. Steeling himself, he heard the collective intake of breath that occurred all along the defenders' line.

"For a greater good," he whispered to himself, gaining strength from the catechism.

With the first line of defense down, Wood could see figures moving outside the wall, the smoke contorting the shapes of their shadows into unearthly figures. With a flurry of movement he saw that dark figures had begun to enter the grounds, fanning out to attack the whole line at once. The battle had begun.

With a flurry of light the Death Eaters attacked, the array of curses and hexes thrown astonishing. The collective shield covering the Hogwarts defenders gave a shudder, colored blotches expanding from the points where curses hit. With a twist and flick of his wand Wood sent his shield flying at the approaching mob. The shield, trailing golden sparks, flipped horizontal at the last moment, bisecting a Death Eater who fell with a scream. A grim smile appeared on Wood's face as he now charged at full speed towards the Death Eater line. He could see all along the defenders' line others' shields were winking out as well, or being dispelled towards the Death Eaters, as the staggered line dissolved into individual fighters who took off towards the approaching enemy.

Colored jets were now flying back at the Death Eaters, the Hogwarts defenders having rid themselves of the cumbersome shields. Wood saw at least one limp mound out on the grassy ground where the charge had started from, the body of a Hogwarts defender unlucky enough to be caught directly by a spell. As Wood watched, a girl from Ravenclaw was hit in the arm, and she went down shrieking, crying out for her family in the pain and shock of it all. Wood passed by the body at a dead run, seeing only the large festering wound that needed medical attention far beyond his skill. A figure, evidently one of the girl's friends, bent down next to the body. Wood tried to yell a warning, though was too late, the girl took a reductor charm to the head, showering the nearby runners with gore.

Wood heard a stifled sob next to him and turned to see Colin keeping up stride for stride. On the other side his three Chasers pulsed along, seemingly oblivious to the curses flying around them. Angelina's thick braid was swinging, Alicia's wavy hair flowing out behind her, a surreal image in the moonlight. Colin stumbled, and Wood saw he had taken a hex to the torso. Colin, however, tore of the protective cloak seconds before it burst into flame, the damage done by the hex too much for the enchantment to handle. Oh well, thought Wood, it would have only lasted one shot anyways.

The two lines of fighters now clashed in earnest, the large-scale battle disintegrating into many individual duels. In each one the participants swirled through the smoke of battle gracefully, their spells causing eruptions of color that lit the scene eerily. Wood saw Mr. Weasley's shock of brilliant red hair twisting and turning in the thick of the chaos. Nearby, Shacklebolt dueled two, a grim expression on his face, though he still glided through the dueling forms with the calm demeanor that was his trademark.

A hooded figure rose up in front of Wood, and he gave a quick diagonal slash with his wand, sending a line of purple flames at the Death Eater's chest which, upon impact, caused his opponent to crumple without a sound. The three Chasers were now dueling separate opponents, their wands shooting sparks and loud bangs in the air. Beside him Colin Creevey, all earlier fear lost, was dueling in earnest, although his wand trailed a little behind his Death Eater's, which moved with dizzyingly speed. Sidestepping, Wood shot a curse at the Death Eater's back, causing him to twist, the blank holes in his mask boring holes through Wood. Colin, however, took this opening to hit the Death Eater with a stunning spell. The Death Eater keeled over backwards, out of the fight.

The Death Eaters had obviously not expected such resistance, and so gave ground grudgingly, withdrawing to the hole that they had made in the encircling wall. The Death Eaters had taken losses as well, Wood noticed, seeing the slumped bodies all around, many wearing hooded cloaks. When a Death Eater went down, however, he or she did so silently, so Wood cringed every time a cry rang out, as it inevitably signified a Hogwarts defender getting hit. "Drive them back," Lupin exhorted his troops, "make clear the grounds." His words were received with a ragged cheer from the scattered defenders. Wood redoubled his efforts, seeing others doing the same. By now he had taken down two more Death Eaters, both with their hoods off. One was Albert Runcorn, a known supporter of Voldemort inside the Ministry, the other a witch Wood did not know. Her eyes were still open and staring, though strangely unfocused, indicating that she was under the imperius curse. With a shout of exhilaration Colin dispatched his own opponent, a thickset Death Eater who fell with an audible thud against the thick green grass, now being trampled by many booted feet.

The Death Eaters were now fighting within the wall, the boulders and rubble from the explosion making the footing hazardous. On Wood's left side Alicia stumbled, her right ankle twisting on a rock. She went down with a grimace, a killing curse aimed at her streaking through the space she had just vacated. Wood dispatched her attacker without emotion before bending down to see if she was okay.

Alicia's face was contorted with pain, her free hand rubbing her right ankle as she conjured a shield on her blind side before turning to look up at Wood. "It's broken, there's nothing you can do," she said, attempting to put on a brave face.

"I won't leave you," Wood exclaimed, unwilling to face the inevitability of what was going to happen next. Events were now spiraling out of his control, and he was losing the cool calm that he had enshrouded himself in.

"I cannot walk, Wood, and there is no way I can get back into the castle. You are needed here. We all have our own demons to fight tonight, this will have to be mine." Wood began to speak again, though was cut off as howling ball of fire soared over his head. Ducking, he saw in the flickering light Colin dueling another Death Eater, Angelina and Katie keeping the worst of them off his back.

"No..." he began, though Alicia cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. Staring Wood directly in the eyes she refused to listen to any arguments.

"You're leaving."

Wood staggered backwards as though shot. Standing up with a jerk he saw the glow of flying curses as well as starlight reflected in Alicia's eyes. Turning, he stalked away a grim determination in his stride. He redoubled his efforts, no longer listening to the screams and sounds of pain around him. He reached where Colin was still dueling, and dismissed his opponent easily with a sharp wave of his wand, the Death Eater flying backwards and hitting the encircling wall of Hogwarts before sliding down and slumping backwards, crumpled at the base.

Wood continued his purposeful march, his steely eyes unwavering, uncannily finding a path through the combatants until he reached the forefront of the Hogwarts line. With a sharp intake of breath he threw his arms out wide as though casting a net and from his fingertips and wand fire coalesced, thin ribbons searching out the few Death Eaters that remained behind him before weaving itself into a latticework that hissed and moved as though made of living flame instead of the conjured element that it was. The Phoenix's Wall, magic that the Death Eaters had not encountered in a long time, evidenced by the fact that they prowled along its opposite side, obviously mad at being contained from their prey.

The Hogwarts defenders now drew up into a line, careful to not approach the magical fire. Many bent over double, obviously winded from the long fight. Wood saw a few fall to their knees, retching. Suppressing the bile rising in his own throat Wood gazed up and along the line, letting his own arms fall to his sides, wearied by the monumental task he had just accomplished. Colin jogged up to his side, a grin spreading across his face, his youthful enthusiasm even now shining through the grime of battle on his face. "That'll hold 'em for sure," he said beaming, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Won't it?" the question was only half formed on his lips when the fire solidified. In an instant it turned into ice, though an unearthly ice that emitted a shriek as it exploded, shooting razor sharp shards of ice at the line of Hogwarts defenders.

The cry of Protego echoed up and down the line as crystal blue shields materialized to deflect the oncoming shards. Wood, however, saw no shield come up on his right side and he turned, horrified to see a foot-long shard seemingly erupt out of Colin's chest. The boy seemed to fall in slow motion, his arms flying outward as though trying to pull him up on invisible strings. Colin's body crashed to the earth with a dull thud, his limbs spread-eagled in all directions. His cheek rested in the moisture-laden lawn, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.

A crimson stain grew on the front of Colin's black robes, serving only to make the color seem darker in the moonlight. The blood formed a spreading blot that threatened to engulf his whole torso, causing the corpse to sparkle with reflected starlight that seemed to bathe the body in a multitude of ghostly lights. Numbly Wood fell to his knees, disregarding the moisture that now soaked the hem of his robe. His hand rested on Colin's chest, near where the shard of ice now protruded. The icicle appeared eerily luminescent in the starlight, except where Colin's blood speckled it dark. Wood's open palm sank in now, into a pool of warmth from which Wood dared not remove it. He had promised to keep the little boy safe, for that was all that Colin had been, a little boy who had tried to do too much, a little boy with delusions of greatness in his head.

A hand on Wood's shoulder dragged him back to the world of the living. He swiveled, his eyes glistening as he looked into Katie Bell's face, a pleading expression upon her fair complexion. "C'mon Wood, we need to get out of here." Her voice was tinged with exasperation and fear, and Wood rose, glancing behind him to see a multitude of hooded figures pouring through the reopened breach in the wall. Wiping his eyes on his sleeves, he cast a disillusionment charm over Colin's still form.

"At least they will not take his body," he muttered, before turning and joining the general retreat. The Hogwarts defenders now fled in a general disarray, their courage blunted, their nerves frayed. The survivors could be seen weaving their way through the bodies littering the field, the casualties of both sides. Some still moaned weakly, others lay without moving. Wood's eyes were dry by the time he passed the body of Alicia, her left arm impaled by a shard of ice. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace, a silent scream that lanced through Wood's heart. He couldn't help but ask himself how many others now lay wounded or dying because of his own actions.

"You couldn't have done anything," Angelina said in exasperation, trying to staunch a bloody wound in her own arm.

"And that's supposed to make it better?" Wood was screaming now, his eyes open wide and scary, his emotions running wild. "You aren't the one who promised to keep her safe, the one who left her there alone."

"It was her choice," Katie said, though she was visibly shaken, and seemingly attempting to convince herself as well. Wood whirled away seeking to charge back into the fray. Others though had beaten him to it. Wood could see Remus Lupin striding across the open expanse of the lawn, wand held high and shoulders thrown back proudly. A woman with startling pink hair, undoubtedly his wife, strode alongside him, the same determination etched within her face. Wood could not remember when she had joined the fight. Their patronuses bounded alongside them, seemingly eager to enter into the action. The line of approaching dementors reeled back in front of them, fleeing from the silvery animals, only to circle around behind the two figures.

"NOOO!" screamed Wood clawing at the arms that dragged him backwards. Death Eaters materialized around the two, wand light flashing in the distance. Wood could see Lupin's strong form refusing to give in, fighting with a grim determination born from desperation. Lupin's wife fell, her face wreathed with an unearthly green glow, her body crashing not in an exaggerated fall, but one full of stark realism and pain. Lupin, though, fought on, straddling his wife's unmoving frame. He dueled with a grim efficiency that Wood had never seen before, refusing to give in. He dueled with nothing to lose, only time to gain for his friends.

Wood was being born backwards now by the receding tide of Hogwarts defenders, away from the battlefield and back towards the castle. Lupin's spells came slower now, though his neck never bent, his gaze never faltered. As Wood watched, he saw Lupin turn back towards the castle one last time, before he disappeared underneath a pile of Death Eaters, his wand ripped from his hand, its light extinguished.

Wood cried freely now, shoving off the hands that sought to help him up the castle steps. He dragged himself up, the tears coursing down his face blurring his vision as he gazed out from their peak, at the lawn covered with the bodies of friend and foe alike, intermittent fires burning unchecked, the yells of the victorious Death Eaters mingled with the sobs of the wounded. The doors to Hogwarts clanged shut behind him as he sagged against a column on the inside, slowly letting himself slide down before hitting the marble floor. His wand fell from shaking fingers as he held them before his eyes, viewing his failure, his weakness. "Is this it then," he lamented to his blood-soaked hands, caked with dirt and filth, the dried blood cracking and releasing new flows of red. "Is this how it ends?"

He let his hands fall into his lap, the tears slowing down though he wished they wouldn't. Losing a friend never was easy. even one he had met scant hours earlier. Wood tried to search his heart from some part that did not already cry out in agony but could find none. Still though, he forced himself to return, locking away his emotions in a place only he could find, and wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. He looked out over those gathered near. Bent over double, or seated as Wood was, the older or more mature sought to reassure those around them. Friends clasped each other as though they might not see one another again, the worry and fear etched in their faces, bleeding out of their eyes. As though coming finally out of a deep sleep, the world snapped back into focus for Wood, and he felt the weakness drain out of him, replaced by a warmth that could not be contained, that bubbled and seemed to lift him to his feet all on its own. "No," he began feeling his voice grow in strength until it could be heard throughout the entrance hall.

"A new day shall come, one in which our sacrifice shall be known by those who do not need to know the sorrow that we have known, the troubles we have known." Heads were know turning, as the silent assembly began to listen intently.

"We fight for a greater good," at which Mr. Weasley inclined his head, "for a vision of the world as it should be, one untouched by cruelty or hate, malice or destruction. It has fallen upon us to defend such a dream, hard as it might be, for if that dream dies, so to shall all hope, and all that which we hold now in our hearts."

"Bravely we have fought, and bravely we will fight, until that dream is realized, no power can stop us, no power will stop us as triumphant we march out into history, out into glory, never wavering never ceasing until our will is done. We shall remember the times we were forced to live through, and yet we will not view them as a curse, but as a blessing. Let others hear of our sacrifice and by lifted up by it, knowing that still in this day and age there are those who devote their lives to a cause transcendent." A ragged cheer went up from the attentive crowd, who was now hanging onto Wood's every word.

"Even death will not stop us for our cause surpasses it, songs will be sung, and tales will be told of our victory on this hallowed ground, for we fight for a cause far greater then all of us individually could possibly imagine. That cause is universal, a heavenly cause, and one that we will be glad to die defending. All evil shall tremble as we march heroically shouting to the winds that we fight for a heavenly cause!"

The crowd now echoed his stirring words, giving a voice to his ideals that even the surrounding darkness could not suppress or bring down. "For a heavenly cause," the multitude of robed defenders shouted, giving voice to their anger, which burst out of them like a lion's roar. Wood turned, cheers still ringing in his ears, turning away from the crowd that no longer resembled a defeated peoples, but one which was assured of victory, for even death now held no hold over it. Raising his reclaimed wand he shot from it twin streamers of red sparks that jetted out the broken windows that flanked either side of the large oaken door. They struck the shields of the advancing Death Eaters with the resounding sound of a church bell, eliciting an answering cheer from throughout the castle.

Wood was swept up in the host of defenders who now crowded the windows in the entrance hall, firing curses fast and furious out the windows, all traces of depression erased, replaced with grim determination to never give in, to face what might happen with open eyes, and a wand held ready. Confidently they waited for whatever might come their way. The defenders were not invincible, though they acted as such for when one fell, another stepped up to take their place, and it seemed to Wood that the flow of defenders was never ending. They fought now, determined not to give the Death Eaters any purchase within the castle walls. Wood glanced around from his spot atop a pile of rubble and thought the defenders might now have some chance. However, in the distance he could now hear the sounds of battle emanating from other parts of the castle.

"Damn," he swore under his breath, "the passage-ways." Wood now sprinted along the pile of rubble shouting and exhorting the defenders to turn. "The rear, defend the rear..." His voice trailed off as he saw a few Hogwarts defenders round the corner, furiously fighting the Death Eaters who were mere steps behind them. Kingsley was the first to move, his bald head glistening with sweat as he dropped lithely and gracefully to the ground, moving swiftly to the forefront. The ragged band of fighters rallied to his presence, seeking reassurance in his serenity. The lead Death Eater dispatched a Hufflepuff student with a derisory motion of his wand. The student fell with an unarticulated scream still visible on his face, the rigor mortis catching him in his final moment of agony.

The Death Eater turned looking for a new opponent, his arms outstretched, a mocking sneer obvious, even through his still hooded visage. Mr. Weasley was there, flying from the rubble pile, landing in front of the Death Eater, his chest heaving with ire. The Death Eater blocked his first attempt at a curse, throwing his opponent away. Mr. Weasley hit a column, struggling to rise to his feet, glasses askew, blood dripping from a cut over his eye. The Death Eater waded in for the kill, though seemingly rising out of the swirling dust was Kingsley. The Death Eater paused, head cocked. With a spin Kingsley cast whirling blades at him. Without waiting for retaliation he spun again and disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the Death Eater, who having deflected the first attack, began to duel in earnest, knowing he faced a master.

With a start Wood realized that he was the only one standing in a whirlwind of madness, individual duels coming in and out of focus as they moved through the general destruction that was the entrance hall. With a loud crash the front door split open, revealing a wave of monstrous spiders. Wood turned, and upon seeing the tidal wave he shot a multitude of red jets, each one exploding and multiplying until the corridor was alive with sparks. Each one that hit a spider blew them backwards, stunned. To his horror though, they kept on coming, seemingly imbued with a deadly intelligence.

Hagrid now appeared, waving his flowery pink umbrella with reckless abandon, yelling at the combatants of both sides, who were firing curses at the spiders instead of at each other. One duel that continued uninterrupted, however, was the one between Kingsley and the still unknown Death Eater. They danced through the dust with grace and poise, large smoking rents in the sleeves of their robes, but each seeming to be not be gravely injured.

"Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!" Hagrid was still pleading with the combatants, throwing himself into the center of the seething mass of spiders which rose to greet him and enveloped the large figure. As quickly as they had come, the spiders now retreated, Hagrid not visible in the teeming mass. Wood, however, could not dwell on Hagrid's fate, for with the spiders' withdrawal duels had started up again.

Flitwick and Yaxley were surrounded with streamers of light, Flitwick's wand tip trailed behind golden tails that writhered of their own accord and threatened to envelop the Death Eater. The Charms professor hopped about madly, ducking beneath Yaxley's hastily thrown curses, finally casting a single pulsing ball of crimson fire that struck Yaxley in the chest, throwing him out the door and sending his body tumbling down the front steps. Dusting his hands, Flitwick turned to find a new opponent, conjuring red hounds out of thin air that rushed at the Death Eaters, snapping at their heels.

Wood could only see this duel out of the corner of his eye, as he faced his own Death Eater, Macnair. The former ministry executioner had a grim twisted grin on his face, taking no chances in his harsh slashing attacks. Doggedly Wood fought on, throwing all his skills outward. He shot multiple streams of red light at his opponent, as he had done against the spiders, though Macnair trapped them in an expanding bubble that blossomed from his wand tip, incasing the jets within its protective sphere. Fully encapsulated, the stunning spells ricocheted around wildly, the eerie flickering cast from the globe illuminating the combatants below. Macnair was no longer a young man, Wood realized, and his breath now came ragged, spittle beginning to collect on his cheeks. Wood pressed forward, spells shooting out of his wand with barely a thought. The barrage of spells proved too much for Macnair, who stumbled, his shield charm flickering feebly before collapsing completely.

Wood's next disarming spell hit its mark, and Macnair's wand tumbled through the air to land in Wood's outstretched hand. Macnair had been thrown backwards, and he now lay on the ground, his grizzled face staring up at the towering form of Wood.

"Gonna kill me sonny?" he growled through gritted teeth, obviously scared of the answer.

"No," Wood responded frankly, conjuring cords to bind the man, who was no less dangerous because he was disarmed. "I'll leave that to the Ministry, way I see it there are going to be a lot of changes over there." Macnair looked frightened by this pronouncement, though he couldn't say anything due to the cloth gag Wood had placed between his teeth. Wood cast his eyes about the scene around him. Individual duels were being resolved, though he could still see a giant lumbering away from the scene. How had he missed the appearance of the giant? He asked himself, though he must have been too involved in his individual duel with Macnair to realize its presence.

He saw Katie's long flowing hair from the back and started towards it, breaking into a run as he saw a Death Eater approaching her blind side. Eschewing magic in the close quarters, thinking he might hit Katie by mistake, Wood threw himself at the swarthy Death Eater's ankles. Clearly not expecting such a decidedly non-magical attack, the Death Eater was caught off guard, toppling to his knees. Katie dispatched her own opponent and stunned him, throwing him off Wood.

Wood could now see that Katie had been standing over the prone figure of Angelina, whose chest rose and fell intermittently, as she struggled to breath. Looking around and seeing no danger, Katie fell to her knees beside Wood, propping up Angelina's upper body as she did so. Angelina, Wood saw, was a mess. Her nose was obviously broken, the blood pouring from it mingling with the blood coming out of her mouth. She coughed, a raspy sound, before turning to look up at Wood.

"I knew you would come and find me," she said to Wood, obviously in pain, though struggling to continue, "I...feel so cold." Her head lolled back to the other side, unable to even support its own weight. Wood gave her hand a quick squeeze, astonished at the low temperature.

"Greyback got to her," Katie said in a low voice, pushing aside Angelina's bunched robes to reveal the jagged wound on her side. "I got here later and haven't been able to move her." Angelina twitched, sliding in and out of unconsciousness, oblivious to her fate being discussed around her.

"We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey, now," Wood said putting his arms around Angelina, getting ready to lift her up.

"How can we get to the Great Hall? There are Death Eaters everywhere," Katie stated.

"I'm not leaving her here to die!" Wood screamed in rage, visions of Alicia's blank eyes staring coming unwanted into his head. He swung Angelina into his arms despite the moan of pain that escaped her lips. Looking down at her only strengthened his resolve; he began to move through the crowd. Wordlessly Katie followed him, blasting Death Eaters out of his way, clearing a path for Wood and his burden. Was this to be another one? Wood thought, to die because of him, because of his fallibilities?

He quickened his pace, rushing ahead with reckless abandon, bursting through the doorway of the Great Hall. He hurried up to the dais, where scores of wounded lay groaning, looked over by Madam Pomfrey and some assistants. Gently laying Angelina down, Wood could see her twitch involuntarily, eyes now closed. She looked peaceful, as though sleeping, the wound in her side no longer pumping out blood, just a crusted mass of scab. Jerking himself out of the reverie, Wood turned to leave, nearly knocking into Katie, who was standing right behind him.

"You go on, Wood," she said, stepping aside to let him pass, "I'll stay and watch over her." Wood glanced down one last time before meeting Katie's stare.

"Alright then, but promise me you won't leave here, don't leave her alone." Pained at the words Wood continued, "I don't want you hurt, I didn't want any of you to get hurt." Wood was seething with barely controlled rage. "I wish..."

"That was not your choice to make," Katie said soothingly, taking Wood's blood stained hand in both of her own. "You never could control me," she said, and indicating Angelina, "nor any of the others. What we do comes from within, from the deep desire to better the world, and the lives of others." She glanced down and Wood could see her eyes misting over. She raised her head, eyes now flecked with tears. "You can't take that desire away from us for I've seen the same in you."

"You came because you wouldn't be parted from a chance to do good, for a chance to right a wrong, for a chance to prove yourself. That, Wood, is a thought that you alone do not hold, it lives on in all of us." She drew away now, leaving Wood silenced, struggling for words. Finding none, he turned on his heels, striding away from the dais, breaking into a run as he neared the door, never looking back.

Katie stood in silence herself, taking in what could be her last look at the man, her captain, her mentor, and most of all, her friend.

The battle still raged in the entrance hall, the smoke swirling around the combatants even more heavily. Kingsley was still engaged in his mortal combat Wood noted, neither he nor the hooded Death Eater showing any fatigue of battle. Wood blasted away a Death Eater, not even bothering to see who it was, seeing a swirl of Gryffindor red and gold in the distance. He joined with a trio of figures led by Ginny Weasley, which also included fellow Gryffindor student Neville Longbottom, a grim look on his face as he dueled with a fierce passion. The third Wood recognized as Luna Lovegood, the blond haired Ravenclaw student who was a notorious supporter of Harry Potter.

The four of them formed a fighting square, backs to each other, and no Death Eater was able to get close to them, so fast were spells being fired back and forth. Wood twirled his wand expertly, shooting sparks in all directions. Guided with deadly intent and precision, they found their Death Eater targets with uncanny accuracy, whether hitting flesh or ricocheting off shields. To Wood's surprise he saw that the Death Eaters were withdrawing, not panicking or running, but steadily drawing back towards the empty space where the great oaken doors of Hogwarts now hung askew.

Ragged cheers could be heard from the defenders as they redoubled their efforts. The Death Eaters, however, protected by overlapping shields, were unaffected. Glancing about, Wood could see that the Death Eaters were not withdrawing because of the defenders' spells, but of their own accord. A chill ran down his spine, and he yelled, his voice carrying through the cavernous hall. "Hold...conserve your strength."

The Death Eaters were now out the doors, and spells came less frequently from the castle. Once out on the grounds the Death Eaters rose up en masse, winging their way like a flock of black crows off towards the Forbidden Forest. All throughout the castle people relaxed, lowering their wands, glancing around at their friends and fellow defenders alike in barely withheld amazement.

Now though, in the apprehensive pause, a cold voice seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. Echoing throughout the castle, it silenced every noise, catching unspoken words in every throat. Wood, a distant far off look in his eyes cast his gaze out towards the Forbidden Forest, sensing by intuition who the speaker was, letting the foul words wash over him.

"You have fought valiantly, and Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I have commanded my forces to retreat. I now give you one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather then face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then the battle will recommence. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, women, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

With this final pronouncement of impending doom the voice fell silent, leaving the Hogwarts defenders shocked, looking around at one another in bewilderment, no one willing to give voice to their fears.

"It's a trap," one Hufflepuff boy yelled from the back, "Voldemort wants to lure us out onto the lawn where he can kill us all." Wood could see nods of approval rippling through the crowd, people turning to head back to the windows. His anger, however, exploded out of him.

"Wait," he screamed, livid and steaming, rounding upon the Hufflepuff boy who now seemed to want to sink into the floor. "You would have us sit here and do nothing, stay here for a battle to begin again around us." Gesturing towards the broken windows outside in the distance he continued.

"Out there lie the bodies of our friends, laid down so that we might stand here now, and yet you propose letting them decay? To let them rot while we sit here on the laurels of a false victory, worrying about our own safety?"

"Day shall come again, and let a new sun rise on fields devoid of our kin, the wounded and suffering not left for the feast of a false leader's crows. Let not death be around to greet that morning, but a more gracious power, here to shelter those who still live. If I leave a friend lying out on that field it will be because I too am stretched out there beside them, and our cause will not leave out bodies whilst anyone of us draws breath." He rounded on the crowd now, a wild look in his eyes, spurring them on to action.

"Let us go now and rescue the victorious dead, so that their bier will not be trampled ground but of marble, that they may lie at well deserved peace while we continue fighting for the ideal that they gave their lives to defend. One hour."

A steady trickle of defenders now began to edge towards the doors, turning into a flood that could not be contained. Wood was pleased to see a bolt of Hufflepuff yellow leading the charge outside. He turned back to the hall to see Kingsley Shacklebolt walking towards him, his hands clapping a soft applause.

"Nice speech," he said frankly, clapping Wood on the back, "come over here though, I've got something to show you." Wood followed the broad shouldered man to a place on the wall where a crumpled figure lay sprawled, hood now thrown back, a snarling visage replacing it.

Wood gave a sharp intake of breath, the dead man was the Death Eater Avery, the man who had killed Wood's brother, now dead by Kingsley's hand. "I heard you had something personal against this man," Kingsley said softly, a few paces behind Wood, "I am sorry you could not resolve it."

"I did have something personal," Wood said, turning up to look at Kingsley, "and had I met him years ago I would have killed him without a thought, eager for the redemption of my brother's honor."

"Tell me then, Wood," Kingsley pressed him, "does not this old foe still torment your heart, and weigh you down needlessly?"

"It is not so much the man himself that weighed me down, but the unjust cause to which he belonged that burdened me. Now though I realize, that this man's death changes nothing, that killing him would not have brought back my brother." Wood paused now, forcing himself to think of all the others who he had seen killed, Colin Creevey, Alicia Spinnet, and countless others within the past few hours. Taking a deep breath he continued, "My brother was avenged the night I swore to protect the weak, and to never stop fighting against the pervasive evil that strikes down the young prematurely."

"Even at that I have failed, I feel the blood of many innocent people on my hands, though I know in my heart that I have tried my best, and I'm with people now who believe the same. Did I want to kill Avery, yes, and in some ways I still do." At this Kingsley raised his eyebrows, though Wood plowed on.

"However, I would kill him to protect others, so that he would never again wreck torment against the weak, to inspire needless fear. That is what my brother would have wanted me to do, for his guiding presence still is with me in my heart. That is something no Death Eater will ever be able to take away from me."

Kingsley nodded his head, "if you understand that now Wood, then you are a wise man, more so then many who would seem to be much older and experienced then you yourself are." Clapping each other on the shoulder they turned to walk out the doors, filled with apprehension and dread. Upon entering the mingled moon and starlight Wood could not help but gain further admiration for the beauty of Hogwarts at night. The castle rose up like a juggernaut, the cracks in its stonework making it appear as some surreal impression not based in reality.

Kingsley raised his hand in farewell, walking over to where Mr. Weasley was directing the body recovery effort. Hogwarts defenders moved between the scattered bodies with grim expressions on their faces, stopping every once and a while to stoop and call out softly, listening anxiously for any reply. Upon hearing one they would rush, robes flapping in the moonlight, towards the victim, eager to rekindle the slender flame of life that wavered within the sufferer's body.

Wood, however, did not join in the general hunt. Instead, he strode across the field with a single purpose in mind. He could tell that the bodies around him were dead, for he could not see the tell-tale rising and falling of the chest that would signify that a student still lived. The Death Eaters had performed their grisly task with a precision that belied their hatred of the defenders. As always, the Killing Curse left no wounded.

Leaving the inner bodies to the less experienced defenders, he sought out the body that meant the most to him, Alicia's, lying out in the field alone where he had left her to die. He reached the spot. Alicia still lay as he had left her, spread-eagled in death, arms splayed out, the grimace of pain locked upon her face. Wood collapsed beside the body, his grief pouring out of him unchecked.

How could anyone preach the path of a stoic to him now, to walk uncaring out to the body of a friend with emotions held in check? Wood's seething emotions were an essential part of him, one that threatened to consume him every day. The man who could not understand that inner struggle, and therefore called his outward show of pain weak, would never experience such an outpouring of emotion and therefore could never fathom its power. Wood knew though, that in spite of everything, he could still see Alicia, her smile, her laughter, which was something that death could never take away from him. It would be in memory that he would carry Alicia's hopes and dreams with him. They would give him the strength to wrench his emotions apart and then sew them back together again with the friends who still stood beside him.

Grasping Alicia's body to himself even tighter, he stood up wordlessly, beginning to walk back to the castle, rising up from the plain as though defying it, standing as a pillar of hope amid the darkness which was all the more powerful for its scars. Passing through the defenders who still moved through the bodies, he shrugged off any offers of help with a stiff shake of his head. This was a burden that he alone must carry, he must feel the weight of Alicia's body in full, the mortality and frailty of it despite its beauty.

Other students used hover charms to levitate the dead and wounded, though Wood never considered that as an option. This was his final opportunity to have a physical connection with Alicia, something he could never have fathomed before this moment. To never hold her when she needed comforting, never to provide a shoulder on which to cry, never to lift her up in victory, her face beaming down at his from up high.

He mounted the steps wordlessly, craving the silence and solitude, reveling in its simplicity. Passing through the entrance hall with his burden, he could see that it had already been cleared of corpses, that the defenders had done their grisly task well. The Death Eater's bodies had been unceremoniously dragged outside and dropped in a pile. Entering the Great Hall, Wood could see the bodies of the Hogwarts defenders laid out with reverence, singly observing the proceedings from their positions of honor on the dais. Wood gently lowered Alicia onto the stone, her hair fanning itself out on cold surface. Lovingly, Wood arranged it around her shoulders, moving her arms to rest lightly at her sides before stepping back.

Relieved, he could see that Alicia was not out of place amid such high company. Remus Lupin and his wife lay nearby, side by side, their faces at peace, as were those of the many others who lay in long rows on either side. The dead seemed to know that here they were safe; to be taken cared for and tended for, as people were unable to do for them in the last moments of their lives. Turning back to Alicia, Wood could almost see her expression soften before his eyes. The grimace turning into a smile of contentment, pleased at the final result. Wood gave a small smile in return, nearly in tears, though determined no to show it now. Some feelings were better left for when he was alone.

There was, Wood knew, one body that did not lie here. That was the body of Colin Creevey, left where he had fallen by the breach in the wall. Wood turned away from the dais, his face now a mask of unreadable stiffness. A figure manifested itself from the crowd around the bodies, following close behind in Wood's footsteps, though hurrying to catch up. Wood recognized him as Neville Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor who had changed greatly in Wood's absence from Hogwarts. The boy seemed barely in control of his emotions though determined, as Wood was, to not let them break through.

"Mind if I join you," Neville murmured as though ashamed.

"Not at all," Wood replied with a weak smile, "in fact, I would be glad for the company." They walked in silence from the hall, neither one speaking, eyes looking straight ahead.

Neville, however, broke the silence, speaking quickly. "I didn't think it would be so hard..." At this Wood raised his eyebrows, looking back at his shadow, though not breaking stride. "Not the fighting, I mean...just after the fact, all the bodies, and the death, all the death." At this pronouncement he gave an involuntary shudder.

Wood looked ahead now, steeling his gaze off into the distance. "It never goes away, the horror, the revulsion...I always believe I've seen too much...and then death returns to haunt me again." Neville looked scared, and Wood continued in a slightly more sympathetic tone,

"Bah, listen to me, I become pessimistic in my old age...look Neville, you are still young, try and live life unshadowed by such fears and doubts."

"But..." Neville began, "by the looks of things my life may not last much longer."

"All the more reason to cherish it then, but know this, that only the one who is justly frightened of death will have the strength to stare it in the face and spit in the devil's eye, for by doing so he recognizes that while death may inexorably hold power over him, that life truly has more meaning. Life is a cup full of bitter suffering, right up to the brim. It is not our place to question it, for such decisions are out of our hands. However, we must take it willingly, like the gift of death, and trust the one who gives us such things, for they both come from a good hand." Stopping he turned, grabbing Neville's hand and placing it over Neville's heart.

"It is not in here that the true spirit lives." Moving Neville's hand to his head he continued, "Nor in here." He let Neville's hand drop, spreading his own hands outward. "It is out there somewhere, the place where the spirit truly resides, for this body is but a shell."

"Whither we go after death I do not know, though I do know that if you approach it strongly enough, even with fear in your heart, then you will reach that other place safely, and no worldly harm can touch you."

With that Wood continued marching out the door, leaving a silent Neville to follow, pondering Wood's every word.

The two forayed out onto the lawn, now mostly clear of the bodies that had pockmarked it like scars. Still though, Hogwarts students and faculty alike moved throughout it like automatons. They directed each other in the grisly task of removing the dead. Those of the defenders who had given their lives were marked by a pulsing globe of red light, the wounded green, those too heavily wounded to risk transport were marked with a sickly yellow which cause Wood to twinge just looking at it.

Wand light still sparked here and there on the field, mostly around the yellow globes where the more experienced attempted to staunch the ghastly wounds so that the victims could be moved to safety. Every so often a yellow globe would turn to red, and figures would solemnly walk away from the body, leaving two people behind to bear it up to the castle.

Wood, however, had business not with the living, but the dead, so he avoided these solemn ceremonies, striking a straight path towards the encircling wall. The body he was looking for was that of Colin Creevey, held safe under Wood's disillusionment charm in the shade of the wall itself. Upon reaching the breach Wood stopped, searching for the exact spot where Colin's body lay hidden. Neville, confused, gazed out into the night, searching perhaps for a body that lay outside of the wall.

"He's out there, isn't he?" Neville said shakily, turning back to look at Wood, "V-V-V-V..."

"Voldemort?" Wood finished, stopping from his task to regard Neville, "Course he's out there, probably checking his watch this very instance, counting down the time until Harry's supposed to show up."

"D'you think he will?" Neville asked, gazing out again at the encroaching forest, the shadows of the trees hanging heavily over the grass. Dawn could not be more then a few hours off.

"Nah," Wood countered, "Harry's got guts, coached him myself you know, a bright boy, and not one to give in to fear." Wood was now searching again, not looking at Neville. Engrossed as he was in his actions, he barely heard Neville's whispered reply.

"And is that wrong...to give into fear that is?"

Wood looked back at the boy, so like himself in many ways, eager and yet unsure, trying to cope with concepts larger then himself. "Yes...and no...you see Neville, fear is just another part of living, we see things that we cannot understand, or may be new to us, and rightly we fear them. However, to let that fear overpower us, and influence our actions to make us go against what we know to be right, that Neville is when fear becomes a problem."

Turning back to the grass, Wood gave a complex waggle of his wand and the ground in front of him shimmered, before revealing the stretched out body of Colin. The icicle that had protruded from his chest had melted, leaving him lying in a pool of water. Neville had given a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the body, though Wood motioned him closer, admonishing him as he did so.

"Take in the fear Neville and channel it, recognize it so that you can expel it keep on going, even when your body wants to go back." Wood was relieved to see Neville exhale deeply and move over to the opposite end of the body, his face now an unreadable mask.

Grasping Colin together they lifted him up gently, beginning to walk back to the castle. To Wood the body seemed heavier, even though it was smaller then Alicia's had been. Whether from the weight of the icicle's water, or from some unseen factor he could not tell, he felt the weight transfer into his own body, and from there, he did not think it would leave.

The two bearers ascended the steps to the castle, still in silence, neither having said anything since picking up the body. The weight of Colin's remains seemed to form a bond connecting them, one that neither wanted to break. Wood, however, stopped, Neville doing the same. In a throaty voice Wood spoke, giving voice to his emotions.

"I'll take him from here Neville," he said, swallowing deeply while looking into Neville's eyes. Neville opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it, closing it again and inclining his head in a sharp nod of assent. Wood threw Colin's arms over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, feeling the weight shift from his arms to his back. By contrast Alicia had seemed like a feather, one who had gone to her death self assured and free from worry. Colin, however, had achieved no such closure on his life, taken from the world while still young, never having experienced all that he could have done, ripped away in the prime of his youth.

Wood staggered into the Great Hall with his burden, heads turning as he entered the room, bowed under its staggering weight. The distance to the dais seemed insurmountable, Wood's guilt seeking to drag him backwards, back out the doors and onto the field, back into a hopeless struggle for Colin's life. Still though, he fought onward, a personal struggle of a different source. He reached the dais and tenderly shifted Colin into his arms, laying him down beside Alicia. If only he had protected Colin better, Wood thought, then the boy would be one of the people standing around the dais instead of lying on it.

Unable to bear the solemn scene for any longer he fled, going quickly out the entrance to the Great Hall and down the corridor through which he had passed so many times while in school, and countless more this night alone. Retracing his steps he found himself once again standing at the top of the stairs that led out the great door to Hogwarts, the stairs ending two flights below on the grassy lawn that had formed the battleground.

Stepping off to the side, where the column that supported the roof left a little gap, Wood glanced out at Hogwarts, his true home. This was the place where he had had his greatest triumphs and defeats, the place where he had learned about more than just magic but about human beings, about such fickle things as love and hate. He could see in front of him in distance the Quidditch stadium, its six golden hoops seeming to wink softly at him, the place where he had proven himself to rest of the world. Leaning back against the cool marble, he could sense the place where he had proved himself to himself, and set out on the journey that had led him back to this very spot today.

Off to his left there was a rustle, and a figure manifested itself, coming out of the shadows slowly as though afraid. Wood, however, was not afraid.

"I'm glad you found me," Katie said, a catch in her voice.

"Or," Wood replied, "was it you who found me." At this Katie attempted to laugh, though the sound felt alien in the silence that surrounded them, the pocket of shadow behind the pillar.

"It's all so different..." Katie began, Wood nodding his head in agreement, "...I mean the grounds are the same as always, but the mood...I remember when this castle was nothing more then a place of learning and joy, a place for friends and fellowship, and games and fun." Turning to look up at Wood her eyes now glistened.

"Can you see Hogwarts still, on a bright autumn morning, the mist rising off the lake, the crackle in the air that seemed to grab at you as we walked out onto the pitch. The roar of the crowd, all bundled up in cloaks, as we would fly off into the air for a spectacle in the clouds that they, the ground lovers, could never truly understand."

"The emotions as we would soar, all thoughts put aside, just you, the ball, the broom, nothing more. Can you remember Wood?" She looked up at him expectantly, searching his face for an answer. Wood's face crinkled, before breaking into a grin, grabbing Katie tight and swinging her around as he smiled widely.

"Of course I remember, for who could forget? The camaraderie, the joy, the pure pulsing love of the game that we all shared, as champions of all, we were on top of the world, kings and queens until we dismounted our brooms at the end of the game. Once you experience something like that you can never not go back, to never again revel in those emotions, in the friendships that formed on those autumn days, that for me would be torture."

Wood stopped spinning now, Katie and him separating, both panting. "And does it hurt you Wood," Katie continued, solemn again, searching for those elusive answers, "to know that those times will never come again?"

Wood gazed now into out into the darkness, slowly turning into the grey that heralded a new dawn. "Yes, it hurts me." Whirling around, he continued with a fierce passion, "I know though, that those memories will stay with me forever, and that where I've been, where I'm going, I'm on just one path, one that unfolds out before me and from which I hope never to stray. Whether that path ends today or tomorrow, or fifty years down the road doesn't matter to me anymore because I know, deep down, that I have lived a life of my own choosing, and nothing can take that away. I still yearn for the past, though I know still that the future has more in store, and that is something more beautiful then anything I can do on the Quidditch pitch. The beauty of life, Katie, is something that will stick with me and you, always."

The two embraced, leaning on each other for support, desiring to reawaken a bond that had long remained dormant though was needed by both in this moment. Even so, both of them knew now, that whatever happened, it would turn out okay. They had each other, and that was what mattered. Together, they offered their souls up for salvation, as they had learned so long ago.