Resurrection

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RESURRECTION

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Prologue

The Night of Endless Dark

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It was a cold, dark night. The wind hissed menacingly through the leaves of the weary trees, as if warning the strayed and the bold of a fateful eve. The stars and the moon had been locked away behind infinite, thunderous clouds, and to the west the silent meadow stretched out undisturbed towards the horizon, its confines invisible under a pitch-black sky.

Two cloaked figures made their way through the darkening woods, footsteps steady yet somewhat muffled on the thick undergrowth. The men had been walking through the seemingly endless forest for some time now, their determined steps carrying them further and further into its unwelcoming depths. Two identical beams of light were shining from the tips of their wands as they moved forward amongst twisting trunks, exposed roots, and scattered bushes, listening attentively for the foretelling sounds of the nocturnal creatures they didn't want to upset, whom they could sense hidden amidst the lurking shadows. This particular forest was no place to be wandering about in broad daylight, and the settling darkness permeating everything around their small radium of light made the thicket even more intimidating. A pair of amber eyes glittered from a branch high in the darkened canopy, but other than the eerie murmurs of the wind and the sporadic squeak of an on-stepped twig, their presence seemed to be going unnoticed.

After fifteen minutes of more silent walking, they reached their destination: a large clearing in the middle of the woods, which featured a great stone with the shape of a coiled snake at the centre of it. They increased the intensity of their Lumos charms after confirming the safety of their improvised meeting spot. At the signs of intrusion, another shrouded figure stepped out from behind the enormous rock, his scowling features completely hidden by a black hood.

"I thought we had an agreement on the matter of discretion," said the stranger, directing his veiled glare at one of the two men in front of him. Judging by the tone of his voice he wasn't at all pleased with the breach of procedures.

"Oh, pardon my impudence," said the man standing to the left in a cynical, yet mellifluous voice as he surreptitiously glanced around the unwelcoming coppice. "Lupin here is acting as appointed chaperone. Dear old Albus appears to believe my secret contact may try and assassinate me... not that I don't believe the thought has crossed his mind on occasion" Severus Snape smirked at the hooded man, the amusement in his jet-black eyes carefully hidden by the starless night. Remus Lupin remained quiet even when there were traces of aggravation on his pale, drained face, but under the present circumstances it could have been due to the wariness he held for the stranger or -in a more farfetched assumption- the darkness-cloaked forest surrounding them and all the terrible memories it reeled in his mind.

The stranger snorted derisively.

"Spare me. The Dark Lord has fairly creative ways of dealing with blood traitors such as yourself, so I'll just leave the dirty work to him," he said with almost the same caustic tone Severus had just used as he pretended to examine his fingernails, and Remus couldn't tell if he had only been joking. There was something about this wizard, something unnerving but at the same time oddly familiar that -ironically- didn't quite reassure the werewolf of his trustworthiness. His heightened senses on alert, he refrained from speaking for the moment and settled with watching over the two men and their exchange as well as the deceitful forest enveloping them all.

Remus couldn't help asking himself when it was all going to end. Sometimes he wondered if he shouldn't be asking himself 'when', but 'how'. Was all of this worth it? So many lives, so many sacrifices, and it just never seemed to end. They were all so tired; hell! He was so tired he wondered if he was going to make it at all. The only thing that kept him going was the irrational flicker of hope that washed over him every time he looked into the tenacious green eyes of one exceptional raven-haired boy... No, young man, he corrected himself. Harry was certainly not a child anymore. Actually, he wondered if Harry Potter had really ever had the chance to be one....

Severus Snape let out an amused bark of laughter -which somehow sounded much more patronizing than amused- that shook Remus out of his reverie.

"Let's get down to the cases, shall we?" he smirked in his no-nonsense tone as he surveyed his fellow spy with annoyance shining freely in his pitch-black eyes. "We don't have time to waste on trivial formalities. You have important information for us, and believe me, wandering around the Forbidden Forest at this late hour with a werewolf as my watchdog goes far from my ideal of fun." Lupin looked swiftly at the Potions Master as if shocked. For a second, a flicker of hurt shone in his amber irises, but noticing his own moment of weakness, the werewolf quickly averted his eyes from the inquisitive dark orbs regarding him with something akin to triumph and concentrated on a small root near his left foot instead.

"And as I believe I had made clear, there is no 'us' in our arrangement" the hooded man scowled sharply, apparently oblivious to the silent exchange taking place before him and openly aggravated by the turn of events. "I've risked enough already by helping you with your little project to run around expanding the circle of friends." He glanced around the dark coppice and after a short moment added with a flare of finality; "I don't trust him."

Remus scowled, annoyed to say the least by the man's petulance. "Then we already have something in common." He folded his arms across his chest and stood up a little straighter. "Severus has always complied with each an every one of your demands, until now. This arrangement as you call it is not meant to give you the upper hand. This is a fifty-fifty deal. If I came here tonight it's because the circumstances compel it, therefore you'll have to bite your tongue and deal with it. I, for instance, respect your need for anonymity even when I don't like it one bit, but Severus seems to be quite certain of you so I'll just have to swallow my reservations, trust his judgement, and pray this whole situation won't turn out to be a big mistake."

The stranger smirked maliciously under the hood, his veiled eyes narrowed. "Always the lapdog... I doubt that's the only thing you'd swallow."

Remus stared open-mouthed for a second, completely aghast, feeling as if an invisible blow had connected with his stomach. He recovered quickly though, and moved to grab the wizard by the rim of his cloak's collar, anger flaring, with a "Why, you little piece of..!" but Severus had reacted in a flash and had the werewolf in a tight hold from the back before the lanky wizard could jump his contact and therefore render the entire encounter futile. The hooded wizard for his part stood sniggering at the werewolf, shaking his head with condescending glee.

"I thought we had agreed the leash wouldn't be necessary," Severus hissed contemptuously in Remus' ear, not loosening his hold an inch. Remus shut his eyes tightly against the wave of shivers that ran through his spine at the sensual sound and jerked himself free from the tight grasp, breathing heavily with anger and humiliation. The Potions Master smirked at him before turning to look at his contact. "Pardon my associate's manners. His... condition forbids him to act sensibly at times." He chanced a glance at Lupin, who was now standing with his hands pushed against the great stone, his head low, trying to gain control of himself and the maniac desire to hex the acidic Potions Master back to Hades, where Remus was sure he had come from.

"Now, Damien, let's get back to the point, shall we?" his dark orbs surveyed the hooded wizard with a diverted glint. "What about the girls?"

"Exactly... Damien," interrupted Lupin in a tone hinting accusation, knowing perfectly well the name was only a pseudonym. "What about the attack you failed to warn us about? I thought the whole point of having you as an ally was to obtain valuable intelligence from inside Voldemort's Inner Circle. We could have done something, anything to prevent it from happening, but instead, two innocent witches were kidnapped and we don't have a fucking clue where they might be! They are at the mercy of those bastards! They could be dead by now!" Remus knew he was being a little irrational blaming "Damien" for the kidnap, but he felt he needed to get back at the wizard for the humiliation he had just put him through. And Severus too, but that would have to wait for later.

"I didn't inform Snape about the kidnap because I didn't know anything about it!" Damien hissed; his voice wavering slightly with anger, nostrils flaring under the hood. "I don't know whose idea it was. I don't know how long they plotted it. To tell the truth, I thought it was one of those "right place, right time" things. Nobody ever spoke of it. They had it all figured out before I could..." the wizard trailed off as he kicked a small stone hard and watched it pass by Lupin's right side and land somewhere beyond the clearing soundlessly. He exhaled deeply, as if trying to calm himself. "Believe me, if I had known about it, you'd have had your shot at stopping it," he drawled.

"Then what do you know about it?" asked Lupin a little too harshly. Severus remained quiet, his black eyes surveying both men with something like apprehension in their depths, but it must have been an effect of the dim light.

"They are being kept for the amusement of some of the high-ranked Death Eaters," replied Damien in what would have been a very convincing annoyed tone if he hadn't been shifting his weight from foot to foot and hadn't kept glancing around the clearing nervously. "Where exactly is anybody's guess. I'd place my bet they're held prisoners at Avery's cottage fifty some miles away from here, but I might be wrong. Even I haven't got access to them. That's why I'm sure they were given as Fidelitas." Snape let out a somewhat incredulous snort. Lupin merely frowned.

"Fidelitas? I don't think I've ever heard that term..." Remus trailed off; there were a lot of Death Eater traditions he was unfamiliar with.

"A proof of faith, in a way. Every Death Eater that is taken into consideration to join the Inner Circle must prove his or her loyalty by performing a task. When they accomplish their deed, they present the Dark Lord with the results. If the Death Eater's labour is acceptable, they are welcome into their Master's arms," Severus answered.

"Right. And if Lord Voldemort considers your gift to be unflattering or unworthy, I presume you're a dead Death Eater?" the werewolf said, attempting sarcasm but failing miserably. Severus gave him a measuring look.

"You'd wish to be one," his onyx eyes shone meaningfully. Remus averted his bronze eyes for the second time that night from Severus' disconcerting gaze, reacquainting himself once again with the small root at his feet. For a while no one spoke, and the silence lingered, awkward, between the three men as each of them sank into their own thoughts.

"Are there still any possibilities of the girls being alive?" the werewolf asked Damien, who regarded him with unreadable eyes concealed under the black hood.

"They are now, but I doubt they will be for long." He glanced cryptically at Severus before elaborating with a drawl full of contempt, "If they do survive, they won't even be the shadow of what they used to be. They will be broken rag dolls with not a single desire to live. That's what you become after being a Death Eater's pet. To tell the truth, I think they'd be better off dead..." A sudden noise by the small bushes several feet from them made Damien stop mid-sentence, his wand out and steady in a flash, just as Severus and Remus Nox-ed their lights in unison and turned in the direction of the sound, ready to strike.

A couple of seconds passed as they waited, immobile and surrounded by no other light than that of some adventurous gleam of moonlight escaping the clouds, eyes and ears attentive for another sign of unwanted company. Just then, when the three men were starting to relax, it happened.

To the astonishment of Lupin and Snape, Damien appeared to be hit by a powerful, invisible force that knocked him right to the forest floor several feet away from them, his arms pulled above his head on the ground, his wand lost in the surprise of the moment. The hood had moved in the fall and some locks of hair escaped confinement, coloured silver by the scarce moonlight. The wizard tried to fight the indiscernible aggressor off of him, and it was clear to the two flabbergasted spectators that something -or rather someone- was punching him hard on his pale face and whatever other place they could reach, blood already dripping from nose and lips. It was that -or maybe the very audible yells coming from the unseen person- what turned on the little light-bulb inside Lupin's head, and thinking fast, he cried "Accio Cloak!" in the general direction of the asymmetric fight.

In the blink of an eye he felt his outstretched hand getting hold of a smooth piece of fabric, which glittered silkily as if it were made of quicksilver. He looked up to where Damien was still pinned to the floor; his attacker completely oblivious to his exposed state, his powerful fists kept being driven against vulnerable flesh and a freckled face contorted with unleashed rage.

"Weasley!"- "Ron!" Severus and Remus yelled at the same time but with completely different intonations before they both rushed to where the aforementioned wizard kept attacking the prone form of Damien, who had his arms clumsily set against his face in a desperate attempt to guard his most fragile features from the vicious assault.

"Stupefy!" barked Snape just before a ray of red light sprang from the tip of his wand and hit Ron square on the chest, sending him a couple of feet back against the great stone in the middle of the clearing, unconscious. He hurried to where Damien laid breathing hard and spitting blood. The hood was now completely removed, and locks of silvery-blond hair fell messily over his face, his right cheek and nose showing signs of early inflammation, his bottom lip featuring a deep cut on the side. He moaned in pain before he opened his eyes, revealing dilated pupils in irises of fused silver to the light of Snape's wand.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked with honest trepidation, crouched as he was at the fallen man's side.

"I've... had worse..." the fair-haired wizard tried to sit up as he replied, but winced loudly when he felt a bolt of pain running through his left shoulder-blade, which had been the recipient of the man's violent fall. The black-haired Potions Master turned then to his right where Remus was already tending to Ron Weasley, who was now leaning against the enormous stone after he had been enervated, shaking his daze off. Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You!" he spat to the somewhat still-confused youth with all the venom he could muster inflicted into his sharp tone. "Of all the stupid things you could've come up with! If only I didn't know you were such a lost cause I would have no trouble knocking some good sense into that wasted skull of yours!"

"Severus, that's enough!" Lupin warned. "May I remind you just stupefied a fellow Order member...?"

"Who has put himself above all orders by following us and also attacked my contact for no reason whatsoever!" the irate Potions Master cut in. Ron -who by then had regained his senses- started shaking with unrestrained anger; clear blue eyes rivalling his former professor's in their intensity.

"How dare you protect that... that piece of scum!" Ron flared. Severus sneered maliciously at him as he helped his fellow spy to his feet, producing a small vial of healing potion and a white handkerchief from his robe pocket for the injured wizard to help himself with. Lupin, who until that moment had been too busy checking the hot-tempered wizard for injuries and trying to restrain him in the process, looked up to where Severus and his companion were. Understanding dawned at the same time as an iceberg set in his stomach.

"Malfoy?" he said more as a statement than a question, wincing inwardly at the astonishment hinted in his voice. He imagined he looked like a Dementor facing a Patronus. Draco Malfoy, who appeared to be collecting himself after such a humiliating experience, sneered -though, not without some difficulty- at the werewolf.

"It took you long enough," he drawled as he picked up his wand from where it laid forgotten on the ground and shook the dust from his now quite tattered robe. After tucking his wand safely in one of the outer pockets, he then proceeded to inspect his disrupted cloak. A couple of silver buttons had flown far away in the attack, leaving his grey silk shirt exposed, which -he noted with annoyance- was stained with droplets of crimson blood. Simply marvellous, he scowled to himself. Not only had he gotten his cover blown by no other than Ronald "Our King" Weasley, but his favourite shirt had been ruined in the process.

"But how can..." Remus Lupin stared, perplexed, at the two spies, and then turned his bronze eyes to Ron. "How did you know it was him?"

"I'd recognize that snobbish, disgusting drawl anywhere," Ron answered spitefully, regarding Malfoy with a look of pure loathing. Draco seemed completely undisturbed by the Gryffindor's effrontery. Instead, he directed his stormy-grey eyes to his former Head of House.

"We have to obliviate him. Both of them. I can't risk them knowing who your link to Voldemort's Inner Circle is." He looked at Severus with a raised eyebrow, and to the complete disbelief of the two men intended, the Potions Master gave him a nod of understanding.

"What?!" barked Ron. "The fuck you will! I know why you're playing this charade of being Snape's informant. You're just setting us all up, aren't you?!" he said with a glint of pure hatred in his eyes as he pulled out his wand from his jeans' back pocket and moved a couple of steps forward until it's tip was pressed against Draco's jugular.

"If you want to obliviate Remus and me, you'll have to step over my bloody corpse," the red-haired wizard hissed.

"Is that a promise? Because I certainly would be doing the world a favour by wiping your pitiable existence off the face of the earth" Draco replied evenly; his loathing rising with the force of a tidal wave and his mercury eyes narrowed into mere slits of fused silver as he too reached for his wand and had it pointing at Ron's neck in a flash. He didn't mind showing the stupid Weasel what he could do to his annoying humanity now that Draco could aim a curse and actually be able to see his target. Not that a couple of accurate blows to that disgusting freckled face of his won't be rewarding either, the blond thought, his hatred burning, as he steadily held his wand towards Ron Weasley; his counterpart's wand equally firm and unwavering.

"Will you two knock it off? Or do I have to body-bind you to make you behave properly?!" Remus said sternly, placing himself between the two young wizards, ignoring Draco's "Look who's talking" and Severus' snort of agreement.

"A memory charm is not needed. I'm sure we can get to some sort of agreement." The werewolf regarded Ron with a knowing look as the redhead kept glaring daggers to the pale wizard. Severus moved to stand besides Draco, as if making very clear whose side he would be on if a confrontation took place. Remus looked at him with disbelief then shook his head with resignation. Some battles were just not worth fighting.

Astonishingly enough, both boys obliged -albeit reluctantly- and lowered their wands, though not without letting their murderous feelings for each other show.

"Weasley here has yet to explain why and how he followed us," Severus said bluntly, narrowing his pitch-black eyes into mere slits at the offending red-haired wizard. Ron gave him a glare of his own before turning to Remus.

"I heard you and Dumbledore talking about this meeting. I've been following you since you disapparated from Twelve Grim..." -Ron paled under Remus' bewildered glare- "from Headquarters!" he amended sheepishly after he almost babbled out the address of the unplottable location of the Order of the Phoenix's hiding place. Severus rolled his eyes, disgust clearly shown on his pale face. Surely Lupin would take that as a proof of Weasley's imprudence?

"Did you talk to anybody about this foolish idea of yours? Did anybody follow you?" the Potions Master demanded; his dark eyes weighing on the redhead.

"No!" Ron defended himself, clear blue eyes looking from the obscure wizard to his former Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. "I swear! I was the only one awake! I took Harry's cloak after he had fallen asleep! Nobody knows I'm gone!"

"Taking into consideration your subtlety..." the Potions Master scoffed; his silky voice underlying his total disgust and aggravation.

"Severus..." Remus warned once more, but then sighed with frustration and moved to lean against the great stone. "What you did was very dangerous, Ron. You could have been killed in this forest."

"Or worse, betray our plans to the Death Eaters," Severus reminded. Ron jumped; his jaw set, his teeth and fists clenched.

"Don't you dare start lecturing me about betrayal!" He pointed one shaky finger at Severus' darkening features. "You've put the whole Order on the line by trusting this bastard! All this time Dumbledore has trusted you with his life, and yet here you are defending this git, the son of the worse Death Eater to ever walk the earth, the arsehole that almost killed Harry! Hell! You'd probably be just too glad to help him accomplish it next time, wouldn't you?!" he yelled, his freckles almost invisible in his rage and his ears a deep tomato-red. He spitted next to Severus' boots.

"I don't know why Dumbledore believes people like you can understand honour or loyalty. You're all bastards, and you'll always be!"

"That's out of line, Ronald!" the werewolf interrupted when he saw Ron's nasty gesture and the look on Severus Snape's face: a mixture of shock and total fury. The whole situation was getting out of control. "Classes are cancelled until this war is over and it's safe to resume them, granted, but the fact that Severus is not technically your professor at the moment doesn't mean you won't treat him with the respect he deserves..."

"What?! Remus, you're not seriously..." the redhead tried to cut in, but Lupin kept going as if he hadn't even opened his mouth.

"Also, as an active member of the Order, such as you are -which aside of representing a great honour carries a great responsibility in and of itself- you're not in the position to judge Dumbledore's decisions or to take matters into your own hands. Whatever doubt, question, or complaint you may have regarding Order's issues is discussed and resolved within the Order in Council. On a more personal note," he then turned his bronze eyes to Malfoy and Severus, who were both featuring identical scowling expressions, "if Dumbledore trusts Severus and Malfoy as much as he does, then he must have his reasons. Neither you, nor I, nor anybody else for that matter is entitled to question them." Remus was aware he had said that not only for Ron's sake, but for his own as well. He stopped briefly to compose his breath and rearrange his thoughts. Severus, who was trying very hard to control his temper, kept surprisingly quiet -but not without giving the impression he wanted to chop Ronald Weasley into tiny pieces and then feed him to a basilisk.

"And Severus is completely right," the werewolf finally continued. "Your sneaking up on us could have alerted the Death Eaters of our whereabouts. This war is at its summit, and there is too much to consider. Whatever our reservations, we must think about what could happen to Severus and Malfoy, to the whole Order for that matter, if word of their status got to the Dark Lord."

"But Remus! I... I needed to know!" Ron grabbed his flaming-red hair with both hands in hopelessness; his blue eyes looking at Remus with such despair it almost broke the werewolf's heart.

"I... you're right, but I didn't think..."

"Do you ever stop to think about the consequences of your actions, Mr. Weasley?" Snape's caustic tone successfully concealed the hurt and anger Ron's words had caused.

"But... I'm going mad... I need to know something, anything!" Ron turned to Draco swiftly, who had been staring at the sky with his arms crossed over his chest as if asking the deities why was he surrounded by complete morons; the bruises on his pale face almost undistinguishable now thanks to Snape's potion.

"You! I don't buy that shit about you not knowing anything! I don't care if Remus or Snape or the whole bloody Order for that matter believes you! How stupid of them to think scum like you can change! You are a monster, just like the filth you were born of!" Ron's shouts were full of resentment and pain. Draco remained uncharacteristically quiet; his cold, calculating eyes never left the redhead's, but it was obvious by the clenched teeth and the almost discernible shaking of his body that he was clinging to every single ounce of control he possessed not to respond to Ron's verbal attack.

"Weasley, you've no right to speak of things you know nothing of!" Severus intervened stepping forward towards Ron, his ominous eyes and his cloaked figure towering menacingly over him. Ron couldn't be less intimidated. He pushed the Potions Master hard on the chest; causing him to stumble back a few steps and his face to contort with rage. Draco remained frozen on his spot, if not recoiling a bit. He would never admit it, but Weasley's outburst was quite scary. Remus held Ron, visibly afraid of the way things were turning, just as he pleaded with his bronze eyes for Severus to back off. The Potions Master was standing merely feet from them, shaking with anger and visibly deciding which spell to use first.

"Fuck off, you slimy git!" Ron yelled, fighting like a maniac to free himself from Remus' hold. He wanted to hurt something, to hit something, and he pretty much didn't give a damn if he got killed in the process. "Are you going to hex me, huh? Well, do it! What the fuck are you waiting for? It wouldn't be such a hard job for you, would it? Once a traitor, always a traitor!"

"Ron, stop it! Stop it! What has gotten into you?!" Remus pleaded, not wanting to resolve to magic to control the raging wizard. He knew that was not what Ron needed. He looked up at Draco, and strangely enough the blond rushed to his aid and helped him restrain the redhead, who in his rage had an almost unnatural strength.

"Don't you fucking touch me! You filth! Let me go! God damn it! I'm going to kill you!!" Ron shouted, twisting in every single possible way to escape, his face crimson red and his throat raw with the effort. The sight of him, desperate and desolate, was enough to make a dragon's flesh crawl.

"What did you do to them!? Fuck... I hate you! I'm going to kill you! Tell me what you did to them! Tell me! Where do you... What did you... Oh, Gods! Hermione... Ginny..." he trailed off, shaking indescribably as an overwhelming wave of sorrow and despair washed over him, overpowering his anger and rancour, and making him collapse on the muddy floor, exhausted. His whole body shook with uncontrollable sobs and his eyes were flooded with sour tears as the pent-up tension of nearly two weeks of sleepless nights and frantic worry finally got the best of him.

"Oh, Ron..." Remus whispered as he let himself fall down with Ron cradled in his arms.

"It's going to be ok... We'll find them, you'll see... You'll see..." the werewolf kept reassuring him as he held Ron like if the redhead were a two-years-old child who had just woken up from a bad dream. Draco and Severus looked at each other, and a spark of understanding flashed between them.

"Weasley..."

Remus was caught completely by surprise when he looked up to see Draco Malfoy step towards the redhead, kneel besides him, and place a tentative hand on his shivering shoulder. Ron flinched at the touch, but it was clear he was too tired to fight it off. Severus caught Lupin's questioning eyes, and with a small shake of his head and the hard expression on his face he conveyed his opinion: Let him.

"I know what you think of me and -believe me- I don't expect your confidence or your forgiveness for that matter. I know the history between us has made that rather impossible," Draco said with a soft, yet business-like voice as his mercury eyes looked intently into the blood-shot ones surveying him with suspicion and unadulterated hatred, "but you need to understand there are issues far more important at hand now, and I'm certain you consider your friend's and your sister's survival as one of them." Ron choked a disgruntled reply as he kept on crying, which only made him angrier with himself. Draco ignored Ron's stubbornness.

"As I'm sure you already heard, the attack on your friends was calculated. The Death Eaters knew they were going to Diagon Alley unsupervised; they knew what the girls were doing there. That can only mean somebody from the Order tipped them off."

Now it was Remus' turn to jump at the confession.

"What?" he demanded, turning from Draco to Severus; an expression of complete horror mixed with incredulity on his weary face. Ron's mouth hung open, too shocked to put voice to his colliding thoughts. Severus gave a nod of reassurance to Draco, and the blond wizard elaborated.

"At the last meeting of the Inner Circle a week ago, the Dark Lord was... happy" he scowled, as if even the thought of the monster made him want to vomit. "He introduced to us his newest addition to the Circle, a man I've never seen before in my life. The Dark Lord said this person has total clearance behind Dumbledore's lines."

Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing. A spy? Inside the Order? Out of their own accord, memories of Peter Pettigrew, the man he had baptized "Wormtail" with his now-all-dead childhood friends rushed freely into his mind, and the werewolf couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding taking over his heart...

History was repeating itself.

"But... how?" he asked, his voice almost breaking. "Who is this man? I mean... What can you tell us about him? What does he look like..?"

"That's irrelevant," Snape interrupted. At the affronted expression in Lupin's face, he rummaged once again inside his robes inner pocket and produced a small flask. "Because of this." He tossed the small vial to Remus, who caught it effortlessly with one hand as the other was still busy around Ron's prone form. The werewolf surveyed it with a critical eye before opening the small cork and sniffing it.

"This is..."

"Polyjuice, yes. Draco and I have enough suspicions to believe the person the Dark Lord introduced to his Inner Circle was under its effects. That's why His Infernal Majesty has requested so much of it lately," the Potions Master said in a caustic voice, accentuating the title with as much spite as he could muster.

"The Dark Lord has grown suspicious over the years. He knows there are traitors inside his ranks. Only a chosen few are aware of the man's real identity," Draco added; an unreadable expression on his now completely-healed face.

"Are you saying that..?"

"He's covering his back by not revealing his spy to the rest of us, yes," the blond said flatly, almost morosely.

"How long have you known this?" Remus asked Severus in a harsher tone than he intended.

"Draco informed me immediately," Severus stated as he rubbed his eyes. Lupin blanched even more, but the Potions Master interrupted him before he could open his mouth again. "Albus is informed, yes, but he hasn't found a way to reveal the agent's identity. Polyjuice is quite traceable, but even if we started testing everyone in the Order, there is a possibility that the spy would be prepared for such contingencies."

Remus felt the air abandoning his lungs. Suddenly, many things made terrible sense.

"Severus... if we have a spy in the Order, then Voldemort... he knows about..."

"Yes, he probably knows about me being a double agent," he stated matter-of-factly, but Lupin could see the flicker of fear that crossed his jet-black eyes, gone as fast as it came.

"That's why it is so imperative that you two have your memories modified," Draco said firmly, still crouched by Ron's side, who continued to breathe heavily but had stopped crying; panic had chased his tears away. "We don't know who this person might be, just as we don't know what kind of means they could use to get this information from you if they ever suspected you of having it. Merlin knows what the Dark Lord is willing to pay to find out who is sabotaging his precious plans."

There was a pregnant silence for a moment before any of them spoke.

"What about Hermione and Ginny? They are more important than all of us combined," Ron said gloomily, and Lupin couldn't help the wave of sympathy that washed over him for the young wizard. Ronald Weasley, just like Harry Potter, had grown up too fast because of this war. Right in that moment, as he surveyed Ron's tired, worried expression, he wanted Voldemort vanquished from the face of the earth more than ever.

Draco fumbled inside his robes and shirt, producing what looked like a silver chain with a strange pendant. It was three, maybe four inches long and had the shape of a Dragon's head, with two emeralds glinting for eyes. He yanked the chain from his neck and deposited it in Ron's left hand. The redhead, just like Remus, looked at him with utter confusion. Severus merely kept that infuriatingly unreadable expression Remus hated so much plastered on his pale face.

"Don't get too happy; it's merely a loan, Weasel." Draco's face set in a sneer, but it didn't have its copyrighted edge. "It's a Bloodcator; a very rare magical device. It has been in my family for generations, and it probably costs more than you'll ever be able to afford in your life." He helped himself to the pendant and pressed the emeralds it had for eyes. Immediately, the mouth opened and released a small blade, not more than two inches long. Ron regarded the small knife warily; his brain too numb to respond to Draco's scathing remark. The blond pressed his index finger on the edge of the blade, making a small incision in his flesh as he muttered, "Father".

A tiny droplet of blood came out and the dragon "swallowed" it along with the blade, which until then Ron hadn't noticed was shaped like a forked tongue. The emeralds started glowing and soon two small rays of light -much like the blasers Ron had seen at the Muggle Club he had visited with Harry and Hermione- started drawing what seemed to be the layout of a map in the space above the pendant. It wasn't long until the image of an island was discernible: Azkaban Prison.

"Merlin's hat!" Lupin exclaimed. "I thought those had been banned from existence!" Draco rolled his eyes at the astonishment in Remus' face.

"Oh, but they were," Draco smirked. "Bloodcators are very useful devices because they trace the magic in the blood to locate the donor's relatives. They even work if the person you're looking for is in an unplottable location; no wards can fool them. Unfortunately, the Ministry banned them one hundred and eighty five years ago when even their most highly-guarded key-witnesses and plaintiffs started turning up dead for important inheritance hearings and trials. This is one of the few that survived the interdiction," he added haughtily.

The redhead looked at Draco with uncertainty and confusion until the greatness of what the blond had done hit him. For the life of him, he couldn't say a word. Draco regarded him with an arrogant, knowing look, and then passed his hand over the emerald eyes and the image vanished.

"Why are you doing this?" Ron finally said; his hand clutching the now completely ordinary pendant. Draco scowled at him, but it was plain it wasn't completely intended.

"Because I've gone temporally mad," he said disdainfully as he stood up. "Besides, if they are dead the Bloodcator would be completely useless, thus my honour will remain untouched. This is the ultimate low in my standards." At Ron's flabbergasted expression, the blond elaborated.

"Helping you of all people, Weasley."

Ron stared at the blond as if he were a very complex Muggle apparatus the redhead couldn't quite decipher, but somehow in his state of mental exhaustion and vulnerability, he had the sudden revelation that maybe Draco Malfoy simply couldn't allow himself to be nice to anyone. Maybe it did have something to do with the stupid Malfoy blood; maybe the pure-blooded bastards passed on the "git gene" from generations to generations. They just couldn't help it.

At that ludicrous thought, Ron did the most bizarre thing he could have ever been expected to do in the most bizarre situation he could have ever imagined he'd be in: he laughed, and as the pristine, sort-of-wet sound resounded in the clearing, he suddenly wished he'd had Harry, Ginny, and Hermione to laugh with. But he also realised that the awful sense of helplessness he had been feeling since the girls were taken had lessened somewhat. Was it the breakdown he had just suffered or Malfoy's unlikely gift, he'd never know. All he knew was that things weren't completely hopeless anymore. They could save the girls. And it was all thanks to no other than Draco 'The Ferret' Malfoy, Death Eater Extraordinaire. Harry would never believe him when he told him... but he wasn't going to remember anything, was he? This was the only time he had been proved wrong regarding the ferret's actual humanity, and he was going to be obliviated. The irony didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, so he kept on laughing.

Snape, Lupin, and Draco looked at him as if he had finally gone barmy.

"You know what, Malfoy?" he said after his chuckling had finally subsided completely; his blue eyes regarding his enemy with a measuring gaze, "I understand. You still are a devious, conceited son of a bitch and you'll always be in my account, but I understand."

"Oh, please, this bonding ceremony is quite heartening, but we must get going," Snape interrupted with his usual acidity as he felt tiny drops of rain hitting his protuberant nose and neck. Ron stood up from his place on the ground with Remus' help, feeling quite embarrassed for his former actions now that the blinding anger had evaporated. The werewolf picked up the forgotten Invisibility Cloak from the ground and tucked it in a magically-enlarged pocket inside his robes.

The redhead turned to look at Severus Snape, who was glancing around the clearing with an impatient look on his pale face, and cleared his throat.

"Er... Professor, sir..." he started, but the Potions Master didn't let him finish.

"Save it, Mr. Weasley. Are you two ready?" Remus and Ron looked at each other and the werewolf gave Ron a tiny nod of reassurance. Ron nodded at Snape, feeling a bit scared and apprehensive, but standing straight nevertheless. He had made a fool of himself quite enough that night, and in front of Draco Malfoy, no less. Draco pulled out his wand towards Remus as Severus did the same to Ron. They were about to say the incantations, when Ron interrupted them. Again.

"Wait a second!" Ron looked from the pendant held in his hand to Draco. "In case I forget, which I will," he started as he fumbled nervously with the chain; an appalled expression on his face conveying his total incredulity for what he was about to say.

"Thank you, Malfoy. Honestly."

Draco, who hadn't expected the redhead's words, looked surprised for a second. He recovered quickly, though and saved face by regarding Ron with cold, unreadable eyes and a blank expression on his pale face. The blond wizard then nodded courtly before turning his head swiftly in another direction, breaking the strange moment he was sharing with the obnoxious Gryffindor. Remus, on the other hand, found himself suppressing a smile in spite of himself and his former misgivings, whilst Severus simply scowled as he was accustomed to do in the presence of feeble sentimentality.

"By Salazar's name, spare me. At the count of three. One..."

Ron closed his eyes, sensing the magic gathering from Snape's wand. He was grateful the slimy git had at least given them some time to prepare themselves for the spell.

"Two..."

He inhaled deeply, feeling the big droplets of rain starting to pour heavily on his head. He would not back out like a chicken. It was his sister's life and Hermione's that was at stake now. Thunder roared out in the horizon and lightning flashed behind big, fat clouds.

"Three!"

He tightened his fingers against the silver chain, the only hope his sister and friend had for survival, and held his breath.

The expected spell never came. Instead, he was surrounded by a cold so great his whole body went numb as he fell down and down a never-ending abyss of overwhelming pain; a poisonous green light shattering his mind, his heart, his very soul. He never heard the words; he didn't even have the time to wince.

Ron just kept falling, down, down; the blackest of darkness surrounding him. As he sank deeper and deeper in that dark pit of nothingness, cold as the coldest of oceans, he never registered the cruel, satisfied laughter of the man that had killed him.

-._.o00o._+_.o00o._.-

His heart was beating so hard he could almost feel it drilling a hole through his ribcage.

The Forbidden Forest was as ominous and dark as always, but for the first time ever he didn't care one bit about this unwelcoming place and the countless terrifying creatures it sheltered. His robe was soaked under the pouring rain, his feet were cold and his hands completely numb, but he didn't pay one ounce of attention to it. All he cared about was reaching the Serpent Rock as soon as he could.

Please, let them be alright; please, don't make it too late...

The others were following closely. He knew Mr. Weasley was in front of him walking side by side with Dumbledore, who was the only one who knew where the meeting spot was. Jones, Tonks, and Moody were right behind them, casting protective spells and covering their tracks. He knew Kingsley Shacklebolt was somewhere to his left side, flanking him. He couldn't hear his telltale footsteps but he knew "going unnoticed" was the Auror's speciality anyway. The Weasley twins were covering ground by his left side. The group was making its way with hurried, yet steady steps amongst twisted tree trunks, roots and bushes, but for Harry Potter's galloping anxiety it was as if they were advancing at Flobberworm-speed. His wand at the ready, he only wished for the best, even when the awful knot in his throat kept telling him not to be so optimistic.

Please, let them be ok... It's not too late...

If he had imagined what Ron was planning to do that night, he would have never gone to his room to sleep and left him to his means, but Harry had been so tired, so mentally drained he had gone to bed early and hadn't given anything -or anybody- a single thought. Harry knew the redhead, just like everybody else, had been frantic with worry and fear since the girls were kidnapped, but the raven-haired wizard had sincerely thought Ron would leave the job in the more knowledgeable and capable hands of the Order and the Aurors, as patronizing as that sounded. Now, Harry realised he should have known better. He should have guessed Ron would try to do something. The redhead wouldn't just sit and wait for the others to act at their own pace and convenience, which was exactly what Harry had done. It wasn't that he didn't care about the girls; Gods, that was not the case at all! He was just so focused on working as hard as he could, so set on learning and training as much as his body and mind would allow to be ready for the Final Battle with Voldemort, that for the first time in his life he hadn't run to save the day and "act the hero", like his friends said he always did. Ever since Sirius... well, he had learned the lesson the hard way, and he didn't want to make stupid mistakes anymore, not when there was so much at stake.

But weren't Hermione and Ginny more important to him than this stupid war he was irremediably stuck with? Weren't they -besides Ron- his best friends, all he had left in the world?

How could I leave them alone when they needed me the most? How could I be so selfish?

It was terrible guilt that was competing for first place with his dread now. And fear. And confusion.

Harry deduced Ron had spied on Dumbledore and the others after dinner. How had he managed to do that -Dumbledore was always so careful of eavesdroppers- Harry will never know. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the raven-haired wizard knew Ron was a very resourceful lad when he wanted. They found out Ron had taken his Invisibility Cloak, but how exactly did the redhead follow the two oblivious spies through this particular forest -the place Ron hated the most in the world due to one particular incident in their second year- challenged Harry's comprehension. He also figured the redhead hadn't been discovered before the meeting in the forest had started for Remus -and most certainly, Snape- would have cancelled the reunion without hesitation and sent him straight home the minute he was caught; both his former DADA teacher and Hogwarts' obscure Potions Master took safety too seriously to allow Ron to stay with them in that forest, even more so under tonight's circumstances.

But that never happened.

As he marched under the thick canopy and the pouring rain, Harry remembered the events that had taken place that night. It was almost impossible to believe it all had started less than an hour ago...

He had awoken to the darkness of his and Ron's bedroom at Twelve Grimmauld Place sometime around midnight, or so he had figured when he had looked at the pale waxing moon, high in the darkened sky, from the small window next to his bed. His rumbling stomach was protesting loudly for the lack of food. The first thing he had noticed was the silence: Ron's soft snoring wasn't coming from his bed at the other side of the room, which told Harry immediately that the redhead wasn't in his dream cycle already as Harry would have supposed. Frowning, the raven-haired wizard fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, got up, and stretched a little. He was still clothed in his jeans and t-shirt -so tired he had been that day that he hadn't wasted any time changing into his flannel pyjamas- so he just made his way to the door, crossed the dark hallway, went down the stairs, tiptoed next to Mrs. Black's covered portrait, and reached the small steps leading to the kitchen.

He noticed the light filtering from the space under the door and the muffled voices behind it. Harry smiled. Surely, Ron had ventured once again to the kitchen for some late-night snack and had been caught by Mrs. Weasley. Harry smirked, amused, pushed the door open, and was about to say some witty remark about Ron's lack of sense when it came to stealing food from under his mother's nose when the sight that greeted him made the sentence die somewhere behind his teeth and turn instead into an incoherent sound of confusion.

"What... what's going on?" Harry asked to the somewhat surprised faces of Arthur and Molly Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Hestia Jones, Arabella Figg, and Alastor Moody, who were all gathered around the magically-enlarged wooden table inside the small kitchen. They all glanced at one another, as if waiting for somebody to do something. There wasn't any sign of a certain redhead in the group, and Harry suddenly understood everything.

"What happened? Where is Ron?" he asked, his voice faltering.

Albus was about to open his mouth when Harry's question turned his calm expression into a deep frown. "Ronald?" the ancient wizard asked, quite perplexed. Harry felt a heavy stone settling down in his already upset stomach. The others started murmuring to each other. Mrs. Weasley stood up from her seat.

"What do you mean, Harry, dear?" Her voice was convincingly steady, but her eyes were bigger and rounder than usual. Mr. Weasley placed a hand on her shoulder as he gave Dumbledore and the others a questioning look. Dumbledore shook his head at them; a puzzled expression Harry didn't like one bit on his face.

"He wasn't in bed when I woke up... I figured he must have come down here for some food..."

Harry never finished his explanation. In a flash, Dumbledore, Alastor, and Mr. Weasley got up from their seats and banged open the kitchen door; Mrs. Weasley and Tonks in their wake. Harry had merely a second to move out of their way as they all ran out of the kitchen, passed hurriedly next to Mrs. Black's portrait -who started screaming something about not being able to sleep in her own house anymore amongst her regular expletives-, climbed the stairs to the second floor in three steps, and reached Harry's and Ron's room in what must have been record time. When Harry got to his bedroom, the lights were on and Mr. Weasley and Moody were searching for intruders as Dumbledore held Mrs. Weasley in an apparently ineffective attempt to calm her. Harry could hear the other members searching the rest of the house, and the commotion that broke off in the room above told him that Fred and George had awoken too and were asking for explanations, and quite loudly for that matter. With the room illuminated, Harry noticed something he hadn't even paid attention to before when he had gotten up: his trunk. The lid was closed, but it wasn't locked, as it always was.

He walked silently but quickly to the wooden case and opened it.

"It's gone!" he said, turning to Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley and Mad-Eye crouched next to him and started going through Harry's scarce possessions. Out went Harry's worn-out jeans, t-shirts, woollen sweaters, a couple of mismatched socks, a few books, a broken quill and three rolls of wrinkled parchment; a medium-sized wooden box, dirty underwear, and countless amounts of Chocolate Frogs wrappers. When they reached the flat bottom of the trunk, there were still no signs of the object they were looking for. Mrs. Weasley let out a frightened cry. At the door, seven bodies tried to be the first to enter the small room at the same time. Fred and George, not fond of useless waiting, pushed the others quite rudely out of the way and stood next to Molly and Dumbledore.

"Where is our younger brother?!" Fred asked defiantly as George glared daggers at everyone, even his mother.

"I'm afraid," Dumbledore intervened as he surveyed all present with a sombre glint in his blue eyes, "that we have here a worse situation than what we'd thought."

Everybody but Harry, Fred, and George understood what the Headmaster had said. Molly let herself collapse on the floor and Tonks flew to help her, kneeling next to her and placing reassuring arms around her. The red-haired woman started crying desperately.

"What situation are you talking about? What the hell is going on?!" George demanded loudly when he saw his mother so dishevelled. His copyrighted light-hearted demeanour had been severely diminished by the girls' kidnapping.

"Severus and Remus left an hour ago for a mission," Kingsley explained from his spot near the door; his casual pose failing to cover his apprehension. "They were going to meet Severus' contact to gather information about the girls."

"Wait, wait, wait a second!" George interrupted, turning to look at Dumbledore. "Snape's contact?"

Albus regarded the perspicacious young man with unreadable eyes for a moment, as if weighing the options.

"A fellow spy," the Headmaster finally said. "Somebody who's been helping us for some time now."

"Well?" Fred demanded after the short explanation, feeling as curious and upset as his twin. "Who are they?"

"Fred, stop asking irresponsible questions!" Mr. Weasley reprehended, standing up. "Remember who you're talking to!"

"It's ok, Arthur. They are allowed some answers," the old wizard said, looking from the twins to Harry. Alastor started mumbling something unintelligible behind Dumbledore's back, most probably his disagreement.

"We've found an ally in Voldemort's Inner Circle. However, his or her identity is unknown to me."

Harry frowned, incredulous, and looked around to see that most of the people in the room -the twins and he excluded- were looking somewhere else other than Dumbledore or at each other, and some had even adopted guarded positions. Harry realised they weren't at all comfortable with that admission from the Headmaster. He then looked up at Dumbledore, and somehow -blame it on the strange glimmer of the batty old wizard's eyes or the contemplative expression of his lined face; Harry had gotten to know his Mentor quite a bit throughout the years- he didn't quite believe Dumbledore's story. When did anything escape Dumbledore's nose anyway? Still, it bothered Harry to realise Dumbledore was actually lying to them... not purposely hiding something, but lying!

"What?! Are you kidding?" exploded George after his initial shock had subsided, gaining another warning look from his father, which he simply shrugged off. "You sent them to meet some stranger who may very well be a mole?!" By the strange glances that greeted that question, the raven-haired wizard was certain that was exactly what was on the minds of quite a few people in that room.

"Severus has guaranteed me their reliability, and you all know that I trust Severus..."

"With your life," interrupted George, annoyed.

"How could we forget?" added Fred, aggravated.

Dumbledore regarded both wizards with a benign smile as if letting them know how glad he was that they had made that clear.

"Ok. Let's put Severus' contact aside for the moment..."

"We got distracted from the important subject here for a second, wouldn't you say, George?"

"You're absolutely right, dear brother, absolutely right."

"Yeap. It's about time we found out..."

"What the bloody hell is going on!?" asked both twins, fuming; their identical freckled faces showing identical scowling expressions. Dumbledore chuckled, but the amusement didn't quite reach his blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"As Kingsley was trying to explain to you," he started, quite serious now, "I sent Remus and Severus on a very important mission. They were not only going to meet Severus' contact for information about the girls but they were also there to collect an important magical object that could very well help us in more ways than one. Unfortunately, the Alarm Charm I placed on Severus went off a couple of minutes ago, so I called the others in case their assistance was needed. So far, Remus' is intact."

"An Alarm Charm?" Harry finally spoke, puzzled. "What kind of charm is that?"

"Dumbledore places that charm on us all whenever we go on a mission" Moody cut in. "It's a security measure. It activates if any offensive or defensive spell is cast from our wands. When that's the case, Albus knows which spell it was and therefore can determine if we are in a dangerous situation. The only problem with the charm is that once it's activated, it is finished. There is no way of knowing if the person is casting other spells."

"And what did Snape cast? A very dangerous washing charm?" asked George sardonically, almost spitting out the Potions Master's name.

"On himself? Oh, boy..." added Fred with no sign of remorse.

"It was Stupefy," said Tonks sternly, as she didn't like making fun of people who couldn't defend themselves for not being present. She looked up at Dumbledore. "What about the Weasley boy? Where could he have gone?"

"Oh, come on! Isn't it obvious?" Hestia Jones said in her business-like tone. "He found out about Remus and Severus' mission and decided to take a stroll with them. The question is what are we going to do?" The others looked at one another once again, openly worried. When Dumbledore spoke again, he did so with such a calm determination ringing in his voice, nobody dared speak back.

"I'm afraid Hestia is right; therefore, we are going to arrange a search party." He kneeled next to Mrs. Weasley and took both her hands in his. "Molly, I'm going to ask you to abstain from going with us." Mrs. Weasley was about to protest when he silenced her with the tenacious look in his wise blue eyes. "Don't make me turn my request into an order, please. You stay with Arabella. We need you here at Headquarters in case they come back." Mrs. Weasley nodded reluctantly as she tried to wipe the big tears from her warm, chocolate eyes. Ginny's eyes, Harry thought as he, like everyone else, witnessed the emotional scene. He also couldn't help but feel a cruel, cold hand squeezing his heart. Dumbledore stood up.

"Arabella, when we're gone, use the fireplace in the kitchen and contact the Aurors. Tell them what's happening and that we need some back-up." The old squib nodded. "Alastor, Nymphadora" -the pink-haired Auror scowled at her name- "Hestia, Kingsley... please go downstairs and get everything ready for our departure. I'll join you in a minute."

Immediately, Harry and the other Weasleys in the room started protesting Dumbledore's commands. The others exited the room in silence.

"Albus, you're not expecting that I stay out of this..." Mr. Weasley said.

"We are not staying here! We want to go too!" Fred and George said almost in unison.

"I don't think..." Albus started, to no avail.

"We are not kids anymore! We want to help! It's about our brother, our sister for Gryffindor's wart!" yelled George, appalled.

"We deserve to go," said Harry, softly but seriously. He looked into Dumbledore's eyes with complete resolve shining in his emerald ones. The Headmaster couldn't help but remember the many times he had seen that same light shining in the almost identical eyes of one notoriously stubborn, courageous woman, and not for the first time, Dumbledore understood that Harry Potter wasn't a child anymore. He couldn't keep pretending he was protecting Harry by leaving him in the dark, even when he only meant the best for the raven-haired, young wizard in front of him.

He sighed tiredly, and in a second, Albus felt each and every single one of his one hundred and fifty some years weighing on his back.

"Yes, you are all right."

Mrs. Weasley let her disagreement show at once by releasing a yelled "no!" strangled by sobs. Mr. Weasley was hesitantly quiet, not sure he concurred with what Dumbledore had just said. He settled with giving the Headmaster an inquiring look. The old wizard held up one pale, wrinkled hand; his blue eyes twinkling wisely behind half-moon spectacles.

"The boys are right, Arthur. Even if we want to believe the contrary, they are not children anymore. We are at war, and some of our friends might be in danger. We must step over our fears and accept the roles Fate has designed for us." He regarded Harry with benevolent, proud eyes, and nodded approvingly to him. Harry didn't understand what his Mentor had meant by that.

"Now, let's not waste anymore time. We need to get going for I fear..." Dumbledore didn't finish his sentence, but turned around on his heels and exited the room, his stars-splashed purple robe billowing behind him. Arthur looked at Harry and his two sons, then at his wife, who was still shaking her head and sobbing uncontrollably whilst Mrs. Figg -who had taken Tonks' place- kept stroking her head in a soothing manner. Harry couldn't help to remember that day in the drawing room two years ago; a strange sense of déjà vu washing over him. He fervently wished that Mrs. Weasley's worst fear hadn't come true...

"Boys..." Mr. Weasley suddenly said, his voice almost breaking.

"We know, Dad," said Fred as he grabbed his father's arm and squeezed reassuringly, "we know."

George kneeled by his mother and gave her a kiss in the forehead.

"Sorry about earlier," the twin said softly, looking into his mother's watery eyes. "I was mad. Well, I am mad," he grinned. Molly let out a wet sniff and without warning put her arms around him in a crushing bear hug, her tears staining the redhead's apple-green pyjama top.

"Well, duty calls," said Fred with a mocking solemn face. "We must face our destiny. Let's go." They all laughed half-heartedly as they walked out -Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Figg in tow- but that didn't alleviate one bit of the dread in all of them.

Downstairs, the others had gathered in the parlour. There were anxious faces everywhere. Alastor and Kingsley summoned some necessary objects, the twins' and Harry's robes and wands being in the lot. Dumbledore produced a broken teacup from the folds of his robes, pointed his wand at it, and muttered "Portus". The nine Order members placed one finger in the illegal portkey after it had shone blue for a couple of seconds, and almost immediately they all felt the expected but still very uncomfortable tug behind their navels and the rush of colour and wind as they travelled at breakneck speed; the portkey pushing them forward and forward through a whirl of light.

When they finally stopped, Harry had to plant his feet very firmly on the ground to prevent him from falling face forward in the mud caused by the rain. After he had gotten his wits back in their place, he looked around. They had appeared right outside Hogwarts' gates; the last place he could have thought of regarding their destination.

That had happened twenty minutes, maybe half an hour ago. Now, they were moving forward through the Forbidden Forest under the pouring rain, apprehension pushing their resolve to its limits as they tried to win a race against time. The little Dumbledore had said since their arrival was about the Serpent Rock, the place where Remus and Severus were supposed to have met their contact. Dumbledore explained it was somewhere in the deeper part of the woods and that the only way to get there was what they all considered "the Muggle way" -namely, by foot- as the Forbidden Forest was protected by Hogwarts' Apparition wards. Tonks had debated the decision stating they would only waste more time, that flying there would have been a more effective strategy. Dumbledore had replied, quite patiently but never stopping his smooth pace, that getting to the Serpent Rock on brooms could alert the enemy of their coming; even under Disillusionment charms, a trained eye could easily detect them. Harry had to agree with him. After a few disgruntled retorts and some silencing glares to the young witch from the others, everybody settled their tacit disagreement and continued walking towards the Forbidden Forest behind Dumbledore's steady steps.

They had strayed from the safe path ages ago; Harry didn't even recognize this area of the woods, and he thought he knew quite a bit about the Forbidden Forest after being in there at least once every one of his years at Hogwarts. Apart from the crunching sounds of twigs and dry leaves being stepped on, everything -but most unsettlingly, everyone- was eerily quiet. For Harry, it was as if they all already knew something terrible had happened, as if they all were bracing themselves for the worst, and he hated it. The heavy, cold droplets of rain kept hitting him on his head and the back of his neck, and he could feel a small river cascading down his back and elbows; even under the thick tree-roof over their heads, the heavenly water kept pouring on them as if they were out in the meadow. If Harry hadn't been so absorbed in his own thoughts, he would have remembered he was a wizard and used the Impervious Charm, but taking into consideration who had taught him the spell in the first place, it would only have given him more memories and guilt to dwell on.

The emerald-eyed wizard noticed with some relief that the forest started to clear out around them; the large branches high above them didn't conceal every single ray of moonlight and the clusters of trees were getting fewer and more scattered with every yard they covered. He knew they were close now and commanded his legs to go faster. Harry could tell the whole group was thinking the same thing; he heard Mad-Eye barking instructions to the others in the back and the Weasley twins speaking words that sounded very close to "finally" and "about bloody time". It was a matter of minutes before they reached the stone.

We are almost there. I know they are alright; they must be...

Harry kept reciting that mantra over and over in his head. His strides were long and resolute. They were going to reach that spot in the middle of the woods, Harry thought, and they were going to see with their own eyes that it was all a mistake; that Remus, Snape, and Ron were completely harmless and that it all had been a complete waste of time and energy. With luck, they'd already gotten some information about the girls from Snape's contact and the Order would be able to arrange a rescue mission as soon as it was possible.

That had to be the case, or else he wouldn't be able to ever forgive himself.

We're almost there... Please, let them be alright...

It's not too late... It can't be! I haven't felt anything! My scar isn't burning, that means Voldemort has done nothing!

They are alright, they are alright; it's not too late...

They are alright, they are alright, they are alright...

It wasn't long until their suppositions were proved correct and they saw part of the infamous rock through the trees out in the distance: a giant, silvery snake made of stone ready to attack under the moonlight. But that wasn't the only thing they noticed. Right in that moment, as they all broke into a run, realisation hit Harry with the force of a thousand Bludgers. The raven-haired wizard understood, at the same time as his insides turned into shattered ice floes, how completely wrong he had been...

It was too late.

-._.o00o._+_.o00o._.-

"You can't stop me!! This ends tonight!!" Harry yelled at Dumbledore, his face contorted with pain and stained with tears and mud the rain hadn't succeeded to wash away. The raven-haired wizard stood in the middle of the infamous clearing; the pale moonlight giving him a powerful, almost ethereal look; his green eyes shining an uncanny jade. From his hand trailed a silver chain, the pendant tightly clutched in his fist and tainted with blood, his own blood, as it poured freely from a wound in his left wrist. Twenty figures stood in a circle around him, blocking his exit, but none of them dared approach.

That night, the clearing of the Serpent Rock had been turned into a battlefield. The air was still charged with the remnants of unleashed dark magic. Bushes and trees still burned under the lashing rain as thick, black smoke rose up spiralling into the night sky. Shadows danced and twisted around the clearing like malevolent spirits whose hideous laughter could be heard in the crackle of the fire. There were shattered pieces of rock and wood everywhere, scattered about by missed hexes and spells.

"Harry, this is not how it's supposed to happen!" the old wizard roared, inflicting as much of his power as he was able to in his voice, the wind whirling around his robes as if by his command. "You're not ready!"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be! And I'm going to do it! Tonight! And none of you can stop me!"

"Harry, I forbid you!

The raven-haired wizard didn't listen. Harry couldn't hear anything because of the maddening buzz in his ears, like the sound of a million raging bees trying to find a way out of his skull. His vision was clouded by the rain and the tears pouring from his eyes. He didn't want to believe it, and yet, the awful sight was right there in front of him; no ancient archway or fluttering veil or treacherous voices to disguise the cruel reality before his eyes.

His heart was pounding furiously against his chest, and he was sure now that it would burst from the pain. An invisible hand was squeezing his throat, cutting his air supply at an alarming rate, leaving him sickeningly dizzy and disoriented. The ground shook beneath his feet as the world closed in on him. In that exact moment, he felt it... just like he had expected it.

He felt him.

Blood-red, excruciating pain shot across his forehead to the rest of his body as a surge of overwhelming darkness and vicious glee ran through him with the power of an avalanche, as alien and venomous as the deadliest of viruses. A high-pitched, hysterical voice resounded in all corners of his mind, laughing contemptuously. Harry fell on his knees to the wet ground and grabbed his head furiously, his eyelids tightly shut in his agony.

"Yes, Harry Potter... They're dead, and there was nothing you could do about it. One would think you'd have learned that lesson by now," Voldemort's guffaw echoed inside his head, reverberating with sadistic pleasure and mirth, revelling in the young wizard's suffering.

"You, monster!" Harry panted. "You goddamned son of a bitch!!" he said between clenched teeth, gasping and shaking and pressing the sides of his head so hard the veins at his temple were throbbing and his whole face was crimson. The blood kept pouring freely from his wrist, staining the sides of his face and neck in his thrashing and turning.

The hideous laughter continued as macabre and petulant as ever. Four pairs of hands restrained him, trying to wrench him out of his frenzied state, and somebody was shouting his name and other incoherent things, but Harry couldn't understand them. He could only feel the mighty anger building inside him, one he hardly recognized as his own, and hatred as dark as he had never felt before. It was black and poisonous. It was all-consuming.

"Yes, Harry Potter... Do you want to kill me? Do you wish to say those two little words and watch me wither and vanish from the face of the earth? Whatever is stopping you, boy? I know you want to, because you and I are the same, Harry Potter. You... and I... are one!"

"NO!" the scream erupted from the raven-haired wizard like thunder, and Dumbledore had the sense to release Harry and command the others to do the same, backing away several steps. Mad-Eye, Fred, and Kingsley took out their wands, not exactly sure of what to do. Several Aurors recoiled to the edge of the clearing, scared out of their wits. Harry Potter was fighting an inner battle none of them would ever be able to understand.

"I'm nothing like you! I'll never be like you!!" Harry shouted in between moans and gasps, his throat raw with the effort. Inside his head, Voldemort laughed again.

"Silly boy," the Dark Lord said, almost sounding amused. "Such commanding passion and yet so completely wasted," Voldemort's mirth suddenly died, and turned instead into pure, frozen loathing.

"You've been living on borrowed time, Harry Potter, and that time is up!"

At those words, something in Harry's being was shaken awake, something unfathomable. It was as if he had finally reached the surface after being underwater for too long, as if he were breathing for the very first time. The lion inside of him roared with grief and righteous ire, rebelling, scratching, and pounding his way out of the cage it had been locked in. He could feel his magic gathering all around him, unstoppable and unadulterated, as flickers of memories rushed to his head like shimmering ripples on a pond: Ginny's lifeless body lying on a cold stone floor; Cedric falling besides him, a flabbergasted, terrified expression on his face; Hermione's unconscious form after a ray of purple light had hit her; Sirius' surprised eyes as he fell backwards into limbo; Severus', Ron's, and Remus' bodies lying on the ground, lashed by cold rain...

No more, he thought. And he believed it.

Harry's eyes snapped open, and his next words resounded in the clearing as if he had used Sonorus, even when they had escaped his lips in a whisper:

No. Your time is up.

There was a sound coming from all around them, like that of an earthquake. The air suddenly turned tangible; it crackled and sparkled. Albus Dumbledore merely had a chance to cast a protective spell around him and the retreating people behind him after he understood what was happening. The nine Order members and the twenty or some Aurors that had arrived watched in flabbergasted fascination how Harry's eyes turned a phosphorescent green and the field of energy around the young wizard became visible, a bright verdant light enveloping him in a cocoon.

The bubble blasted with a bang in all directions; a wave of pure power; Harry's power, spreading all around them. The sheer force of the wave pushed past the protective shield, sending Dumbledore and the others several feet in the opposite direction. The whole clearing, the whole forest was illuminated with the most pure, blinding emerald light. After flashing a couple of times, it vanished; and Harry with it.

-._.o00o._+_.o00o._.-

Excerpts from The Daily Prophet, Thursday the 13^th, November, 1997.

The Wizarding World rejoices in its celebration (...) of witches and wizards gathered in the streets, chanting, dancing, laughing, some even crying (...) Thousands of owls take over the skies to spread the good news whilst the Muggles start reporting strange sightings (...) that the Boy Who Lived Once More is at St. Mungo's special ward, recovering (...) not to panic, the Floo Network has collapsed all over Britain; the authorities are already working to solve (...) The Ministry speaks to the people and assures that the Dark Lord's reign of terror is finally over (...) investigations still held regarding the night before the Last Battle as some circumstances have not yet been clarified (...)

._.o00+00o._.

Excerpts from The Quibbler, Friday the 14^th, November, 1997.

The Boy Who Lived fulfilled his destiny (...) of a secret prophecy made seventeen years ago (...) Reliable sources and eyewitness claim wandless magic was involved, but so far such statements have been vehemently denied by (...) an illegal artefact as the key to locate Lord Voldemort's fortress, which was said to be protected by unplottable wards (...) the source reveals that Harry Potter's blood was a relevant factor (...)

._.o00+00o._.

Excerpts from Witch Weekly, Sunday the 16^th, November, 1997

(...) to exalt two courageous young Witches, Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley (...) survived after being held for two weeks as prisoners (...) fought for their lives, surpassing all odds against them (...) finally rescued after the Aurors searched a renowned Death Eater's manor (...)

._.o00+00o._.

Excerpts from The Turning Times, Monday the 24^th, November, 1997

The unprecedented post-mortem trial of Draco Malfoy, son of Azkaban prisoner Lucius Malfoy (...) and preliminary tests confirm his demise by the wand of one Severus Snape, Hogwarts' Potions Master and member of the Order of the Phoenix, whose body was also found at the place of events (...) declared guilty of Ron Weasley's death after tests were performed on an illegal wand found next to his corpse, presumably his own (...) when reliable sources confirm Malfoy was expelled from Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft after a failed attempt to murder the Golden Boy in his sixth year, fourteen months ago (...) The authorities handle the hypothesis of at least two other perpetrators alongside young Malfoy, but so far these Death Eater-escapees have not been apprehended (...)

._.o00+00o._.

Excerpts from Arthur Weasley's speech, The Golden Ceremony, Sunday the 30^th, November, 1997

(...) "Many died during this war, taken from us without remorse, without clemency; just because Evil knows no boundaries, no mercy, and no end. We are here to honour all of them, but most specially, those who stood bravely against those who enslaved us with terror, and with their deaths returned to us the desire to live, to fight."

(...) "Three special men died the night before the Last Battle. Good men in their imperfections; brave men by all standards. A fourth body was found there as well, but that man doesn't deserve to be counted amongst the others. Three courageous men died that night without being given the chance to fight back: Ron Weasley, my youngest son; Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, my friends. The fourth, his name had cursed him since birth, and I pray for mercy to the deities, for I can't forget nor can I forgive; his name be cursed again in the Beyond: Draco Malfoy. Bad Faith. The traitor amongst them all."

-._.o00o._+_.o00+00o._+_.o00o._.-

TBC...