Harry Potter and the Battle for the Light

Halloween II

Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, near The Valley

Wednesday 30th of October

The forest was absolutely quiet. Dead leaves were scattered all over the grounds, making an inconspicuous advance almost impossible. The trees stood tall in this part of the forest and the branches were so numerous and thick that the early morning sunlight filtering through was virtually non-existent. Still, the wolf prowled forward, driving away the wildlife in its path.

It was easily four feet long, with powerful legs and razor-sharp fangs that were visible even when it closed its mouth. The wolf was covered in a smooth grey fur with a shaggy mane of yellowish golden hair. Its strides were powerful and confident as it kept low and scanned the surroundings, looking for today's prey. But there was something special about this animal, perhaps the particular prey he was looking for.

Slowly it moved through the forest, careful not to break any twigs or crunch many dead leaves. As the wolf advanced the tunes of birds ceased, scurrying of small creatures could be heard as they ran away and the very forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the unavoidable. It took effort and patience to advance slowly, sniffing the air and not being able to rely on its sharp eyesight to spot the perfect prey. Nonetheless, this wolf was no stranger to hard work and patience. So he continued his search, being careful to remain undetected and hidden behind bushes and tree-trunks, lest its quarry discovered his presence and ran away; again.

After hours of exhaustive search luck caught up with him. Not more than fifty feet ahead of it came the strong scent of prey and anticipation for the kill. There were no more than six creatures that it wanted to catch, which would prove to be a difficult task. After all, hunting for invisible animals was a job not everyone could undertake. But it didn't matter. They had been doing this for a long time and, as a result, their skills were honed to border perfection. If all went according to plan they would have at least four Demiguises before nightfall.

Neville Longbottom slowed his pace until he was thirty feet from his prey and stopped. The plan called for his friend to advance first and circle the creatures to create the perfect ambush. So Neville watched carefully as Harry slithered on the floor and made his way towards the Demiguises, then turned to the right to get behind them. His familiar would be covering the left flank, ensuring that their prey did not escape. They were counting on the viper and mamba's highly poisonous venom, plus their heat-sight that allowed them to see the prey. Neville, however, didn't have the luxury of eye-sight. He would have to go by hearing and smelling, a feat not too hard for the large wolf.

When both snakes reached their positions Neville saw the two reptilian heads lift slightly above the ground, signalling that they were ready and it was now time for him to make his move. He slowly resumed his walk, taking care not to alert the Demiguises too soon but not particularly concerned either. When he was about twenty feet from the prey he heard a soft rustle of leaves and their scent barely shifted, carried easily in the wind. Without any need more to approach carefully, for he realized he had been spotted, Neville charged forward madly, aided only by his nostrils.

As predicted, the Demiguises squealed in panic and ran away from the large menace, only to come across two very alert and poisonous snakes. Harry and his familiar struck with precision, each of them sinking fangs on two separate creatures. Still, Neville trudged forwards, intent in at least catching one prey by himself. It was no longer a matter of gain and loot, but everything to do with pride.

Out of the corner of his eye Neville once again saw Harry and Xen uncoil swiftly and poison another two Demiguises. That meant one had managed to escape and he was chasing the last one. Neville leaped over fallen logs, dodged bushes and trunks as he raced behind his prey, counting on his acute hearing to stalk the creature. The last Demiguise hesitated for a split-second when having to dodge a tree and Neville seized his chance. With a powerful thrust of his hinder legs he pounced on his prey with his sharp claws. The Demiguise struggled to break free, twitching and wrestling to get back on its feet while whining in a high-pitch tone that reverberated through the forest. Neville opened his mouth wide, revealing his pointed fangs, and sunk them in what he hoped was the creature's neck. It stopped squirming after a few seconds and fell limp on the ground. He took one step backwards, gazing at the blue blood that materialized in mid-air, and lifted his head to the sky.

A wolf's yowl pierced the sudden silence of the forest; the sound of accomplishment and success, of pride and triumph.

Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, The Valley

Wednesday 30th of October

It was well into the morning when Harry and Neville finally finished with the Demiguise-hunting. Since the creatures were resilient to magic they had had to carry them from the forest and all the way to the tailor's shop. Xen had been of no help at all; content in watching the humans tie ropes around the invisible bodies and pull them towards their destination. The tailor had been delighted with the new materials and promised to have the cloaks ready in a couple of days.

After a much needed shower Harry met with Neville on their way towards the Intelligence Room. Every year Halloween forced them to be on high alert in order to be prepared for any attacks Voldemort would order. Neville's team had the first shift of the day but, since Harry had nothing to do at the moment, he decided to keep him company. Ron had said he would meet them later. Apparently Hermione had assigned him some research.

The Valley was already bustling with activity by the time they met. Those that specialized in weapon design and crafting were preparing materials and receiving orders from their superiors; the occasional clang of metal against metal was the result of their efforts. Some villagers were consulting lists of ingredients that Severus and Horace had ordered. They had large baskets to collect different plants, seeds and animal parts from the surroundings. Those that couldn't perform magic were gathering their tools to go work the greenhouses to collect edible vegetables with some house-elves in tow.

Harry sighed as he watched two young girls run past him and Neville to start their lessons. Since the Order couldn't supply schooling for the muggleborns they rescued education had to be provided by means of the old master-apprentice relationship. Someday he would have to choose an apprentice or two and he wasn't looking forward to it at all. The idea of having a young kid looking up at him with hero-worship in his eyes wasn't appealing. He would rather dedicate his time to continue his work in bringing Voldemort down.

"Any idea when you'll take on an apprentice, Nev?" Harry asked as they continued their trek towards the Intelligence Room.

"Not really," Neville answered slowly. "I've been thinking about it a lot. Maybe it's time to find myself one or two muggleborns and start their schooling. What do you think?"

"I really wish I could skip it, you know?" Harry said. "I mean, I don't have anything against teaching but my schedule is rather chaotic." He paused and picked at the sleeves of his robes. They were in need of immediate replacement. Harry sighed. "I have no idea how I could possibly start teaching when I'm still learning, fighting, training and working with the Council."

Neville nodded but didn't elaborate. Most team-leaders were facing the same situation. Only Kingsley had somehow managed to take an apprentice and instruct him regularly. Harry had even heard a rumour that Kingsley had ordered the kid to sleep in his house to intensify the training. Those were special cases where the apprentice already knew he would be joining the ranks of the fighters in the future.

The silence stretched comfortably as they walked past the different shops. Harry continued the assessment of his armour and weapons on the way to the Intelligence Room. Every Halloween, without exception, they were forced to protect some town from being completely wiped out by the power-drunken Death Eaters. It had become common practice to wear full-battle gear on the thirtieth of October.

Harry was wearing a blue-black robe with a hood large enough to hide his forehead and cast his face in shadows, a necessary precaution when leaving The Valley. Underneath his less-than-fashionable robes he wore his dragon-hide set. The damn thing was getting old and had taken too many hits for his comfort. It used to be a sleek black material but the colour had slowly faded into a dull grey. It was scratched in many places and there was a rather large hole in his shoulder blade where he had once taken a nasty hit.

With both wands resting comfortably on his forearms, his sword safely strapped to his back, old Peverell's invisibility cloak in an inner pocket and a full set of battle-phials strapped to his waist he felt reasonably confident. In more peaceful times he would've been considered a paranoid freak but in the current climate it was perfectly normal. In fact, there were many people who carried three wands, two swords, potions of every kind and even two portkeys. Kingsley was one of those paranoid freaks.

The silence was broken once they were out of the busiest section of the village. Neville had clearly been waiting for this moment to ask any Order-related questions and didn't hesitate once they were out of earshot. "Any plans for the dragon-hunting yet?"

"Vague outlines," Harry answered calmly. He stretched his back leisurely as he walked. "I heard from Charlie that there's a Hebridean Black roaming the mountains."

Neville frowned, considering something. "I gather he hasn't exactly approached the dragon yet?" Harry shook his head. "Then how can he tell from a distance what species it is?"

"He said something about Black's having a purple flame," Harry explained slowly and frowned too, still somewhat confused about the whole business of identifying dragon species. "I guess he should know. He did dedicate his life to studying and caring for them, didn't he?

"I suppose," Neville agreed with a smile. "Did he say when would be the best time to tackle it and how?"

"Unless it's a hatching female, which it isn't, there's no specific time that makes any difference in the process," Harry answered. He stopped to kick a gnome that jumped from a nearby bush and continued walking. "We're using magical muscle to subdue it and then cut its head off." Neville raised an eyebrow at the casual mention of killing a dragon but didn't comment. "I don't know if you're coming, Nev, we haven't talked about teams yet. Only now that we have the cloaks covered we can start focusing on armour."

"All right," Neville said, satisfied with the answer. "So we've covered cloaks and we're ready for the dragon. What else are we missing?"

"That'd be the portkeys." Harry paused and looked at Neville significantly. He nodded to show he understood the message and that no further information would be disclosed were someone could overhear them, however unlikely the possibility was. "We'll have to double-check the entry room in a few days to make sure it hasn't changed or new security has been added," Harry explained cryptically as they left the main part of the village.

The background noises gradually became more distant as they walked the less inhabited portion of The Valley. Usually only those members of the Order that were assigned to Intelligence, Battle, Research or had to train approached this zone. Harry could see the Intelligence Room in the distance, a pearly-white building that glittered in the sun. Behind it he could make out the vague outlines of the Training facilities, cleverly (or not) disguised as a Quidditch field. They were almost past Ollivander's by now. The old man preferred to work in a quiet environment lest he made mistakes in the crafting process so he chose this part of the village to settle down. The Hospital Wing was close to the wandmaker's shop and it was painted dark green. In the unlikely case of a break-in, nobody would suspect the oddly-coloured building to be housing the injured.

"Are you sure this rope is as important as you make it to be?" Neville asked, more curious than accusing. Harry shook his head in amusement. Neville had become almost as paranoid as Moody had been and it showed in his planning. He would ask questions at every turn just to make sure everyone knew what to do, how to do it, why it was important and what they hoped to accomplish.

"I am, Nev," Harry said confidently. "Remember I told you about it the night of the Battle of Hogwarts?" Neville nodded. "The situation hasn't changed. It has to be done and it'd be better to do it as soon as possible." Neville nodded reluctantly. Harry couldn't blame him. No sane person would want to undertake this task but, if necessary, Harry knew Neville would do anything required of him. "How many Auror-portkeys we've got so far?"

"Including the ones we got from the sting of last week there's five," Neville answered. He clenched his fists uncomfortably as they continued walking and looked down. Harry recognized the symptoms. Neville wanted to ask something but didn't know how. He resisted the urge to smack him on the head and tell him to spit it out.

"I'm listening."

Neville jerked his head up and stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head and looking upwards. There were a few owls flying around, no doubt delivering mail. The sun comfortably warmed their backs as they walked. "I guess I'm just anxious, Harry," he finally confessed. "We've been doing this for six years but, somehow, now it feels different." Neville glanced at him but Harry's face remained blank as he too gazed forward. "Can you feel it too? There's a new sort of tension, and it's building up, Harry."

Harry nodded but remained silent. He had been feeling it too; a vague awareness that something was coming, whether they were ready or not. It was the uncomfortable feeling people got when a storm was coming and they knew they weren't going to get home in time to avoid the rain. Harry fingered the ring in his hand as they continued their walk and finally broke the silence.

"It's there, all right, I can feel it." Harry glanced at Neville and found he had been staring at him intently. Harry smiled reassuringly and turned to look up. "The war is about to take a turn, for better or worse. We have planned our moves and the other side is moving as well." Harry looked at Neville directly in the eye and tried to convey the truthfulness of his words. "But I promise you this, Nev," he said, even as he felt warmth behind his eyes, "their deaths won't be in vain. We will make them proud."

Neville's eyes softened for a second and he too looked like he was trying to control his emotions. He nodded resolutely and clapped his shoulder reassuringly. There was nothing left to be said. They could only hope that whatever the tide would bring, the outcome would balance in their favour.

They walked in silence past the Hospital Wing and Ollivander's workshop. They had almost walked all the way to the Intelligence Room when Harry heard a loud hoot from above. They stopped and looked up just in time to see a brown owl flap its wings forcefully and land lightly on Harry's shoulder. It stuck out the leg with a note attached and, when relieved of its burden, promptly flew away. Neville looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Harry shrugged. It couldn't be bad news since that usually had faster means of travelling than owls.

Harry unrolled the scroll and read.

H

I've been working on a solution to bypass the wards around Britain and I need your help. Sorry to take up your time with this but I need someone who knows both the muggle and the wizarding world.

Please stop by my place as soon as possible.

HGW

"It's from Hermione," Harry explained. "She needs some help with that project I told you about." Neville nodded. "Now there's this feeling again, right?"

"Too true, too true," Neville laughed. "I need to talk to my team anyway. Let me know if you need any help with that and I'll see what I can do."

They said their goodbyes and Harry turned in the direction of the newlyweds' house. Not surprisingly, Hermione had demanded to have her house built near the Intelligence Room and the library. Ron had complained about the distance between the only pub and the location Hermione had chosen but to no avail. Finally, he had relented when Hermione offered to go live by herself.

As he walked towards his friends' house Harry wondered what could possibly be so complicated that had forced Hermione to ask for help. There weren't many things that Harry knew and she didn't. Normally those revolved around fighting and strategy but somehow Harry doubted that was what Hermione needed his help with. And then there was that comment about knowing about the wizarding and the muggle world. What the hell was Hermione on about?

Harry abandoned all hopes of ever guessing what Hermione was going to come up with and picked up his pace. After a few minutes the building loomed into view; it was very similar to Harry's hut but a bit bigger and definitely weirder. The neatly painted walls, well-cared flowers and attention to details screamed of Hermione's touch. Not to be outdone, Ron had made his presence known by building a small and shabby shed beside the house. Different parts of broomsticks, weird tools and even a single sock decorated the surroundings of Ron's brooms-workshop. Harry didn't know if it was done on purpose but he thought the place looked eerily similar to The Burrow.

He knocked twice and waited.

"COMING!" Harry heard Hermione yelled.

Fortunately Harry knew Ron wasn't home, otherwise he would've just turned around and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. There was a loud bang from inside and a few seconds later the door was pulled open to reveal his friend. Hermione's hair was bushier than normal, something Harry associated with frantic work, and her clothes clearly suggested she hadn't left the house yet.

"Come in, Harry, thank you for coming," Hermione greeted him enthusiastically as she ushered him inside. "Tea?"

"Thanks, Mione." Harry looked around the living room and chose to sit on the couch, carefully avoiding books and rolls of parchment. "Want to tell me what this is all about? Looks like you've been doing some hard work here."

"I know," she said and nodded happily as she poured steaming water in a cup. "I have some ideas that I've been working on and it would be great if you could offer some input. Straight to business?" Harry took his tea and nodded for her to continue as he carefully sipped. "Good, I wasn't looking forward to small talk right now." Hermione inhaled sharply and Harry saw that wicked glint in her eyes that suggested she had made a major breakthrough.

"All right, what do you know about submarines?"

Harry choked on his tea.

Scotland's suburbs, Newton Mearns

Wednesday 30th of October

As one of the wealthiest and most sought-out suburbs in all of Scotland, Newton Mearns used to house some very influential families. A few years back the place had been known for its peaceful environment and clean landscape; children littered the streets and enjoyed the community parks, parents could be seen chasing around their sons and daughters whilst occasionally sharing a cup of tea in the afternoon with their neighbours. Everyone took great pride in their town. Although the weather wasn't ideal, there was no other place on earth they would rather live in.

As time went by the situation had somewhat changed; the streets weren't safe anymore, parents urged their children to remain indoors and the wealthiest families had decided to leave. They claimed the town was dangerous and places like London or Manchester would suit their needs much better. Those who couldn't move away knew why the richest families left though; there were rumours of strange accidents happening all over town and, because nobody seemed to know what was going on, the best option was to head towards a safer place.

Oddly enough, those that left were never heard of again.

It all had started seven years ago. The first freak-accident involved a series of explosions that demolished three blocks' worth of houses and many people had died. Authorities had claimed that a gas-line had had a leak and unfortunately caught fire, which resulted in a catastrophe. The explanation would've been believable had there not been other accidents. It seemed that all of a sudden these random deaths and disappearances had plagued the town and authorities had later confessed they had no idea what was going on. Many blamed it on terrorists while others suggested natural disasters were responsible but no one knew for sure.

To top it all, the Prime Minister had made a national announcement that had shocked Britain's citizens: leaving or entering the country was not only strictly forbidden but also impossible. He had claimed that, due to the number of terrorist attacks in the country, the government had decided to cancel all incoming and outgoing flights. Moreover, communications via internet, mail and even phone-calls between Britain and other countries had been disabled so as to prevent the terrorist cells from gathering intelligence.

In simple terms, they were trapped inside of Britain.

In Number Six, Stanley Road, mother and daughter had witnessed even stranger happenings that nobody seemed to believe. They had actually seen people creating explosions and killing other people with what they could best describe as a show of multi-coloured lights. Every year, always nearing Halloween, these people would bring a new wave of attacks and the authorities would have to clean the mess as best they could, leaving many citizens to bury their loved ones. After the two women in the house had made the connection between the many deaths and the dates of the attacks they had decided that every Halloween they would seclude themselves inside and wait for the danger to pass.

That was why, although it was a working day, both women had stayed at home. Joanne, age 47, was busy in the kitchen preparing tea for her daughter and herself. Joanne's daughter, age 19, was sitting behind a desk in her room, looking at a photograph; a woman in her mid-forties stood proudly beside her husband, who was sitting on the ground with a young teenager hugging him from behind. The man had silvery-blonde hair, sparkling brown eyes and a sharp face. His daughter had inherited the silvery-blonde hair that hung lazily past her shoulders and her eyes were as black as her mother's, but they had a glint of mirth that was visible even in the photograph. Like Joanne, her mother, Sophie's face was rather round and soft, giving her a friendly exterior with a hint of her mischievous personality hidden behind her eyes.

The photograph had been taken a year ago and it was the last one that would portray the whole family.

Jeremiah had been caught in between the lights, leaving Joanne and Sophie to watch helplessly as he was killed by men wearing black cloaks. Neither of them had been spotted so they lived to tell the tale. Of course, no one had believed them; but they knew. They had been forced to witness how their husband and father screamed in pain at the top of his lungs and was later murdered with another streak of light.

The young girl tightened her grip on the photograph as tears fell freely from her face and landed on the cool frame. It was just so unfair to lose her father like that. Why and what had happened? What had he done? He had been just standing there when they had arrived, he hadn't even done anything.

The injustice of it all threatened to overwhelm her. In the course of a year her shock had turned into despair, despair had turned into sadness, and finally it left her furious; a desperate desire for revenge and information.

Were the men wearing black cloaks members of some kind of cult that killed as they pleased? Why did it have to be her dad? Was it planned? Would she have her revenge? As her thoughts turned darker and darker the shelves that lined the walls of her room started to rattle. Books fell on the floor and before she realized what was happening a ceramic vase shattered in pieces.

CRACK.

Sophie came out of her daze and looked around her room to find the source of the noise. Books were lying randomly on the floor, a vase had shattered into dozens of small pieces and the window had a few spider-cracks. Sophie's breathing became laboured as her heart beat furiously in her chest, trying to take it all in.

Had she done that? How? She found no answers to her questions and, whatever had happened inside her room, the sharp crack she had heard seconds ago had come from the outside. She anxiously remembered that the men that produced coloured lights used to make those noises before they appeared and after they left.

Sophie stood up shakily and peered through the closed window. There was nothing outside; the front lawn was completely murderer-free, the street was silent and there was no one in sight. Whatever had caused the noise must have been something else. Yes, no need to alarm her mother. She was scared and depressed enough as it was and Sophie's hallucinations would freak her out unnecessarily.

However, it was best to go talk to her. At least they could stay together for protection and comfort, maybe even find an answer as to why her room had suddenly gone haywire and decided to throw books and shatter vases.

Sophie stood up and exited the room. Just when she was reaching the landing of the first floor a startled scream coming from the kitchen interrupted her newfound calmness and set her heart's pace racing again. Trying to stay calm and failing, Sophie descended the last steps quietly, grabbed a poker from the fireplace and crept quietly towards the kitchen.

With every intention of pummelling to a pulp whoever was threatening her mother Sophie poked her head inside the kitchen to gauge the situation and nearly dropped her weapon in shock at the sight.

Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Intelligence Room

Wednesday 30th of October

In a well-lit room, far from the busiest sections of The Valley, eight members of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered to cover their four-hour shift. The Intelligence Room was, literally, only a room. Granted, it was a big room, but it still didn't resemble what Neville had originally thought it should. Every single time he stepped into the room he couldn't help but look around and start transfiguring things to the best of his ability. Rumour was that Neville spent more time redecorating the room than fighting the bad guys.

The room was about sixty feet long and thirty feet wide. The walls were white and bare. Only the chairs and couches were comfortable, and those had been transfigured by Neville himself. There were a number of round tables near the seats where the occupants of the room could place their cups or prop their feet up. Naturally, there was space to place cups but there were no cups. Once again, Neville's team had had to take care of that. Of course, there weren't any kind of drinks either, hot or cold. Luckily Kreacher had taken a liking to 'Master's friend pureblood' so they got by. Two hours into his shift Neville concluded that whoever built the Intelligence Room must have been, ironically, an idiot.

The only objects of real importance were placed on a rectangular table that had been pushed against the wall. There was a green-coloured piece of parchment that detected bouts of accidental magic and wrote down the location where it was performed. Flitwick had charmed that one himself using Hogwart's list of magical children as a guideline. Neville had absolutely no idea how it worked. All he needed to know was that when the parchment glowed red it was time to move.

The other object sitting unobtrusively on the table was a modified Foe-Detector. It didn't actually concern The Valley, at least not directly. It was charmed to levitate a few inches over the table and grow white if there was a concentrated amount of magic used anywhere in Britain that commonly had no contact with magic. That was the object they used to track down Voldemort's attacks on Muggle cities.

All in all, Neville was sure that The Room, as he had come to call it, was nothing but a grand name given to a set of four walls, a roof and a door. When asked about why they had to place the objects in that specific room located in that specific place Hermione and Flitwick would babble about geomagical concentrations of energy, a natural displacement of magic, the only portkey point of exit and other miscellaneous concepts that he didn't even try to understand. The simplistic answer that Ron had given him was far more useful: 'She said that it only works here so shut up and help me set up the chess board.'

The other members of his team were in a similar bored state. There were three witches and five wizards in his team, including him. Hestia Jones had reappeared together with Dedalus Diggle after Harry's 'family' had been killed in a random attack. Hestia had joined his team but Dedalus opted to stay in The Valley and teach. The other two witches were Cho Chang and Emmeline Vance who, in Neville's opinion, were great fighters but somewhat annoying.

A good looking bloke by the name of Chris Hunter was sitting to his right. He had contacted the Order a year after the Battle of Hogwarts and Neville had gone to pick him up himself. The man had been working for the Ministry in the Department of Control of Magical Creatures but said he couldn't stand the new regime anymore. Seamus, per Neville's request to the Council, joined too. It was best to have people you could trust in a team and, after living together for seven years in Hogwarts, Neville felt Seamus would do great.

The last two members of his team were Oliver Wood and Blaise Zabini. Oliver had escaped Hogwarts after the battle and tried to live a normal life inside Voldemort's new order. Since his ideal job was playing Quidditch he had thought that he wouldn't have any problems. He had been, in part, correct. He hadn't counted on being recognised among Hogwarts' fighters and was eventually forced to flee. Harry had attempted to track him down for three months until he finally found him living alone in the Forbidden Forest. Neville wasn't sure if it was true or not, but Harry had said that an Acromantula had told him the location of their former Quidditch captain.

Blaise Zabini had been an enigma at first, a possible liability that Neville hadn't wanted to risk having on his team. Much to Blaise's chagrin, he was forced to drink veritaserum and answer a few questions before being allowed into The Valley and, more importantly, a team. To everyone's surprise, the answers had been satisfactory, though sad. His parents had been killed by Voldemort personally after they had refused to join the Death Eaters. Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Zabini had been very powerful but strictly neutral in the whole conflict. Once Voldemort had taken over he had refused to let them be just that and, when denied cooperation, he had killed them. Predictably, Blaise didn't take the news all too well, especially when Voldemort had requested his services as a Death Eater right after killing his parents. In his mind Blaise did the only thing a proud pureblood could do against such an offence: take revenge.

All Order members on guard-duty were wearing the particular uniform. It included a black robe with scarlet trims here and there and a fiery Phoenix stitched on the back. The uniforms helped create a sense of organization and purpose, rather than dressing like an odd assortment of witches and wizards whose purpose could very well be collecting weird-shaped shells on the beach. Underneath their robes everyone was required to wear a full-set of dragon-hide plus their favourite weapons; wands, swords, daggers, scimitars and some even used muggle guns (not on Neville's team, though).

Neville stretched his legs lazily and propped them on a round table. There was still another hour left for his team's shift and he couldn't bear the silence anymore. He had tried reading a book, letting his thoughts wander, attempt to transfigure a chair into one of those that Harry could do (and failed) and even suggested chess to Chris, which had earned him a sour look. He sighed loudly and looked around. Everybody was half-asleep by now and although he was supposed to keep them awake he couldn't help but yawning too.

"Let's revise our battle tactics," Neville suggested as cheerfully as he could. A collective groan met his words and he chuckled lightly. "All right then, no battle-talk. At least try to stay awake for the next hour and then you can go take a nap." There were more yawns, moans and groans as everyone attempted to sit up straight.

"I wish he would just attack already," Blaise complained loudly. Many turned to look at him incredulously but he shrugged it off. "Don't look at me like that. I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking." A few looked away but Neville knew he was right. "I mean, we know he's going to attack today, it's a fact. The sooner he does it the sooner we can go about business as usual."

Neville listened half-heartedly to the conversation that Blaise had sprouted and smirked. It wasn't hard to see that Blaise was one cunning bastard. "Anyone want a cup?" Neville poured a fresh cup for Hestia who looked like she would drop dead any second and sat back to nurse his own drink. At least the hot beverage kept him awake. It wasn't exactly cold outside but a warm cup of tea was still welcome.

Suddenly the door crashed open and Harry walked in with a smile on his face. Neville couldn't help but notice that his team members all sat up straighter and tried to look attentive when he walked in. Whether it was because of Harry's position as the second in command, Kingsley being the first, or because he simply exuded a presence, Neville didn't know.

He called out greetings to the occupants of the room and plopped down on the seat on Neville's left. He frowned and tried to get comfortable but eventually stood up and transfigured it. Neville resisted the urge to stun him and steal his place as he threw himself on the squashy chintz armchair.

"So," Harry began cheerfully, "how's the shift?" He grinned when he received groans and moans in response. "That bad, huh?" He chuckled happily.

"What's got you so chipper, Potter?" Blaise snapped, his short temper already completely consumed by the long shift doing nothing. Neville glared at him in warning but was resolutely ignored. Everyone was focused on Harry who indeed looked way too happy for a Halloween. "Come on, Potter, spit it out. You have good news, let's hear it." Harry put on his best innocent look, which didn't work at all on Neville, and poured himself some tea. "I think we would all like to hear something interesting right now, wouldn't we?"

Everyone voiced their agreement and looked expectantly at Harry. "Me? Good news? What on earth are you talking about?" The innocent look didn't work for a second. "Oh, all right, you nosy bastards. But tell me something first, how many times have we attempted to leave Britain?" They agreed that the most reasonable number was seventeen. "All right then, how many times did we succeed?" Damn the man, Neville thought, he was going for theatrics, all the while smiling like an idiot. "That's right, none. What if I told you that Hermione has found a way?"

"No way!"

"Finally..."

"How?"

"Spit it, Potter, no more theatrics."

"It's a carpet, right? I always said we had to use carpets."

"Don't be ridiculous; what's the bloody difference between a bloody piece of flying cloth and a bloody broom?

"Wow, all right everyone, settle down," Harry called over the noise before the argument could escalate. He winked at Neville, who realized that his team mates were wide awake. Neville grinned, leaned back with his hands behind his head and prepared himself to hear the latest of Hermione's craziest-with-high-chances-of-going-wrong plan.

"Now that you're behaving your age," Harry began, ignoring the snorts from Oliver, Blaise and Seamus, "we can speak more comfortably." He scanned their faces, stopped at Oliver's and spoke slowly and patronizingly to him. "My dear, Wood, carpets do, in this matter, work the same as brooms." Oliver scowled at Harry and gave him the finger. Blaise smirked in triumph. Harry turned to look at Blaise and spoke in the same patronizing tone. "And the bloody difference between them is that bloody brooms use modified flying charms while the bloody carpets use a mixture of levitating and summoning charms." Blaise scowled at Harry and gave him the finger. Oliver laughed and clapped Blaise on the back. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand, Hermione thinks-"

He was cut off by a low-pitched whistle coming from the table. A split-second later the whole room was bathed in red light coming from the parchment. Neville realized with a jolt that it was the accidental-magic parchment and immediately set to organize his team.

"Blaise, I want two different portkeys," he called over the noise of rushing people and the strapping on of weapons. "Set one to get near the house and the other a bit farther." Blaise nodded seriously and went to check the parchment for the coordinates. "Hunter, Hestia, you take the first portkey and get the family. The rest of you, you're with me. GET READY, PEOPLE. WE LEAVE IN TEN SECONDS."

Neville felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look at Harry. "Want me to come?" he asked quietly. Neville thought about it for a second, already in captain-mode. Harry could be useful but unnecessary. It would be smarter to keep him in The Room in case something else happened. He shook his head. "All right, Nev, send for me if you need anything, all right? Get in, get out and don't play the hero," Harry recited the Gryffindor's new motto and stepped back to let them work.

Blaise signalled that the portkeys were ready and Neville motioned for the two groups to gather around them. "All set? Remember to turn your ears on. Good luck, everybody. One, two, three, GO!"

They disappeared in a whirlwind of blurred colours. The sickening ride lasted no longer than six seconds and then Neville's team landed firmly on their feet. The first thought that crossed Neville's mind was that he had somehow appeared in Privet Drive. He had never visited Muggle villages before going muggleborn-rescuing but Harry had described his aunt and uncle's home very thoroughly during their midnight chats.

As he came back to his senses he noticed several differences; namely the rather abandoned look of the place, the holes on the street they were standing on and that the houses were somewhat similar but not exactly the same. It had the air of a place that had been attacked before and was slowly under reconstruction.

Neville tapped his wand on his right ear and activated his Tactical-Talking-Tuner. "We're here. Everyone got their ears on?"

"Team one, standing by."

"Team two, standing by.

Neville nodded to himself and started barking out orders. "Team two, apparate inside the house and contact the family. Standard procedure." He received confirmation, heard a loud crack and continued. "Team one, spread out around the house and stay alert for DE's. I want a double triangle, back and front. They'll be here soon. Move!"

"Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!" Neville heard a woman yell fearlessly.

"Ma'am, please. We need to get you out of here right now!" Hestia said anxiously. "They are coming! We have to go, now!"

Neville tried to ignore the startled screams he heard from inside the house and took cover behind one of the trees that lined the sidewalk. There was no one in sight, enemy or neutral. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blaise mimic his cover on the other side and Cho hide behind a tree on the opposite sidewalk. Death Eaters usually arrived in front of the house. If that was the case, Neville, Blaise and Cho had formed a triangle around that position, ensuring them a considerable advantage over their enemies.

"The front is in position. Is the back covered?" Neville asked.

"Back-triangle is set. We should start with the 'catchers'," came the voice of Oliver.

Neville thought about it for a second, trying to decide what to do. It took him no more than two seconds to realize that the best course of action, considering the screams and pleadings he heard coming from Hestia's and Hunter's tuners, was to set up the 'catchers.'

"Agreed, let's get them up. Those in the square can work the apparition and the line can set up the portkeys," he called confidently. "Let's get it up in three, two, one, now!"

Neville waved his wand in a circular pattern over his head, concentrating on the anti-apparition ward. Gradually he noticed the shimmering purple of the barrier coming from his wand and Blaise's, rising upwards and closer together until they met. He continued waving his wand in the same pattern and saw the same purple barrier extending from behind the house. After a few seconds of work both sides met equidistantly from the four corners of the square. The ward flashed a brighter purple before it became invisible.

"Good job. Is the portkey done?"

"There it is," Neville heard Seamus say as the blue ward flashed and disappeared. Both wards were up, the best they could manage without a key-stone and more time. It would take a few minutes of work to bring them down, more than enough to escape with their targets.

"Stalker, we're having trouble with the muggles,"Hunter said anxiously. "There's only two, mother and daughter. There's something weird here that we can discuss later but the more pressing problem is that they won't cooperate - DAMN WOMAN, THAT WAS CLOSE!"Neville snorted."The mother is chucking knives at us and the daughter brought a poker!"Neville sighed exasperatedly. It was always the same. Muggles just couldn't tell the difference between Phoenix-red from Death-black. "Permission to - OW - permission to stun the targets."

"Granted," Neville said reluctantly. He heard simultaneous cries of 'Stupefy!' and the annoying background noises he had been hearing died down instantly. "Transfigure the muggles and exit through the back. Let's get out of here."

Neville was about to leave his hiding place when he felt something in his magical core stir, like a small pressure around his whole body. He instantly knew what it was. "We've got company coming! Disillusionment charms now! Team two, secure the muggles and make your way towards the front! Choose opposite sides of the house! Back-triangle, remain in position!"

With a tap of his wand Neville disappeared from view and noticed he couldn't see Blaise or Cho either. The front-triangle was ready, so was the back and now they had to wait for Hestia and Hunter to get out and join the front. All the while the pressure on his body was getting stronger, but nowhere near enough to break the anti-apparition wards. "Feeling any portkeys?" he asked.

"Negative."

Abruptly the pressure on his body disappeared and he heard four cracks. Neville watched as four Death Eaters appeared outside the wards in between Cho, Blaise and himself, an ideal moment to attack. Still, he didn't give the command. They were outnumbered and it would make no sense to engage in combat if they could escape unharmed. Besides, they were low-rank DE's and they didn't even carry the type of portkeys they needed for the next sting.

"Don't move," Neville whispered. "Four DE's standing back to back in our triangle." He watched intently as the four black-robed men circled in formation, taking in their surroundings. One of them was waving his wand, checking for disillusionment charms. "Get the cloaks on," Neville whispered as he pulled his invisibility cloak over himself. Not a second too soon for the Death Eater finished the charm and a white light flashed for a second and then receded. Satisfied with his performance, the man nodded to the others and they made their way towards the house, still in formation.

"I'm on the left side of the house," Hunter informed.

"I'm on the right," Hestia said.

"Very well, slowly move towards the opposite side of the street so we can get out of here," Neville whispered as he watched the four enemies check for traps on the front steps of the house. He had to admit that they were very well organized, though their strategy was definitely not the best. One of them was checking for traps while the others pointed their wands to the right, left and towards the street, covering all flanks.

While the DE's searched for traps on the front entrance Neville turned to look at where he supposed Hestia and Hunter should be. He could vaguely make out the rustling of the grass as they approached the street.

"They're putting up wards! We have to move out now!" Cho informed the others.

Now that he was paying attention Neville felt the addition of another layer of wards and cursed himself for the distraction. Still, he didn't know what they hoped to accomplish. They could simply walk out of range and apparate or portkey back. He idly noted that they had also added a layer of anti-portkey wards while he considered what to do and waited for Hestia and Hunter to join them.

He had just decided it was time to leave when he heard a loud crash and turned to look towards the house as something invisible collided with the white fence that surrounded it. The wooden fence shattered against the weight and Hunter's unconscious form became visible as the cloak slipped away from him.

"Damn it, Hunter's down! Back-triangle, move to the front. Blaise, approach from the left. Cho, stay in position. I'll get the right side," Neville commanded as he slowly moved towards the house. He renewed his disillusionment charm and stuffed the cloak in his pocket. One of the DE's lowered his wand after binding Hunter with ropes and depositing him at his feet. The other three were scanning their surroundings, clearly waiting for an attack. "Hestia, position?"

"I'm with Cho. Blasting curses on three?" she asked.

"Hunter is too close, we'll do better surrounding them. Stay where you are. Who has the muggles?" he whispered, a plan already forming in his head. If this went the way he was planning the DE's were in for a nasty surprise.

"Pawns in my pocket," Hestia answered.

"Excellent, stay close to the boundaries of the wards. The targets are our priority." Neville stopped when he was standing to the right of the Death Eaters. Blaise confirmed he was exactly on the opposite side. "Back-triangle, positions?"

"Two on the roof, one behind the front door," came Oliver's voice. Neville silently congratulated them on their creativity and good grasp of the situation and held his breath as he waited for the perfect moment to attack.

"On my command, the one behind the front door blasts it open and hides behind the wall. Add a shield just in case," Neville ordered briskly, noting it was Seamus who confirmed understanding. "As soon as the door is open Oliver, Emmeline, Blaise and I fire, got it?" Neville received confirmation and adopted his combat stance, his right foot to the front and his body twisted so as to show the least possible amount of target-area. "Very well, stand by. And remember, we want them alive."

The Death Eaters, blissfully unaware of being surrounded, were surveying their surroundings. One of them was checking Hunter, possibly for portkeys, weapons or other objects of use. The one searching him had already summoned the invisibility cloak and was holding it in his left hand. Another was slowly approaching the front door, his wand raised in front of him.

"Now!" Neville whispered quickly.

The effect was immediate. The Death Eaters whipped their heads around to watch as the door was blasted open and started firing curses. Splintered pieces of wood flew in all directions as the front door and a good bit of its surroundings blew apart. Immediately following the Death Eaters' curses, Neville aimed his wand at the group and fired a bone-breaking curse. He caught a flash of three other streaks of light and simultaneous cries of pain filled the previously silent street.

Only one of the Death Eaters managed to roll out of the way and came up firing upwards, destroying the red tiles of the roof and forcing the two holding the position to raise shields. Neville charged forward, firing stunning curses to distract his opponent and a series of more dangerous ones to incapacitate him. Blaise mimicked his move but the Death Eater stepped out of the way of the dangerous orange light of the bone-breaking curse and blocked the stunners and disarmers with a shield.

Undeterred, both Blaise and Neville ran towards him, confident that eventually he would make a mistake against two coming from opposite sides. On the roof, their two allies stepped forward and resumed their casting, attempting to incapacitate the robed figure.

To his surprise, the Death Eater pulled the invisibility cloak he had acquired from Hunter over himself and Neville caught a glimpse of moving feet going for the edge of the wards. "Cho, Hestia, he's going your way!" he yelled, not caring if the man could hear him. Neville stuffed his wand in his pocket and transformed into a wolf, relaying on scent to chase the Death Eater. He ran as fast as he could, considerably faster than the man, but he didn't make it in time.

The Death Eater countered Cho's summoning charm with practiced ease, preventing her from removing the cloak, and the constant stream of curses never hit the invisible man. Neville smelled and heard the man running barely a few feet ahead of him when there was a loud crack and he disapparated away. Instantly, the sound of incantations, sizzling spells and shouts stopped, leaving a thick silence behind.

Neville growled angrily but quickly transformed back; there wasn't enough time to spend commiserating their failure. His failure. Instead, he immediately started barking out orders. "Hestia, go get Harry's team now, DE's reinforcements are surely on the way. We might need them." Another loudcrack sounded in the silent neighbourhood as Hestia left. "Em and Seamus, get Hunter and pull him towards the back. As soon as you pass the wards disapparate home." Neville turned to look at Blaise, who was wearing a grim expression, and motioned for him to go stun and bind the whimpering Death Eaters.

The plan went without hitch. Barely twenty seconds had passed since the fourth Death Eater had disapparated before the team was ready. Cho, Oliver and Neville had proceeded to dismantle the wards while Blaise carried out his orders. Soon enough the three Death Eaters they had captured were stunned, tied up, removed of all important objects and hidden behind a few bushes in a disillusionment charm. Seamus and Emmeline had disapparated with Hunter and the four remaining members of the Order were ready to leave as well.

Just as they were heading for the incapacitated Death Eaters Neville felt a ward go up, followed by two more. He recognized them as anti-apparition, portkey and a physical barrier. In short, they were trapped. He turned to look at the others and saw his thoughts reflected on their faces; shame, anxiousness, concentration and defiance.

They simultaneously turned around to face the street as a mixture of two dozen Death Eaters and Aurors stepped inside the wards. Neville wasn't sure, but he was willing to bet you had to have a Dark Mark or a special amulet to cross the physical barrier. They spread in a semi-circle and raised their wands threateningly. Neville was considering raising a shield and running towards the back when he remembered they had neither Marks nor any other means of passing the wards.

A Death Eater dressed in the Elite's robes, a stamped serpent and a silver plaque clearly visible, stepped forward. Once the white mask was off Neville realized it was a woman with long blonde hair, a creamy complexion and intense blue eyes. He immediately recognized her as Lauren Linois, a powerful witch and a known member of the inner-circle. She looked at them imperiously and spoke in a powerful and confident voice. "You are surrounded, traitors. Surrender your weapons and you will be spared."

Neville didn't need to look at the other three to know what they thought about the offer. He lifted his chin defiantly and pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of its sheath. With his ancestor's sword in his left hand and wand in his right, he stepped forward and raised both threateningly. "You will walk away now," he snarled boldly. A few of the low-rank Death Eaters eyed Gryffindor's sword nervously while others looked at their leader for instructions. Typical, Neville snorted inwardly, look at the boss for orders.

Beside him, Blaise pulled out a scimitar from the sheath on his waist and Oliver conjured a curved knife. Cho favoured no physical weapon but she adopted her combat stance, her knees bended to absorb impact on her shields and wand raised over her head.

Many of the Death Eaters probably recognized them. After all, Neville was a well-known traitor among the government and there was a high price on his head. He had severed many heads with the sword and sent them to Voldemort. His little stunt with Rookwood hadn't gone unnoticed either. Likewise, his team members were vicious, which would explain the Aurors and Death Eaters' second-thoughts about attacking.

The leader, though, eyed them contemptuously, her blond hair swaying with the light breeze and her piercing blue eyes fixed on Neville's own. Linois seemed to be judging him, eyeing him up and down, as if trying to decide whether fighting was worth the effort or not. She nodded to herself and adopted the standard duelling stance, matching Neville but without the sword. "Very well, if that is what you wish... Kill them."

Although previously nervous and hesitant, the mixture of Aurors and Death Eaters attacked at once. Streaks of light of different colours whizzed past the four of them while others bounced off their firmly erected shields. They tried to return fire but the onslaught they were receiving proved to be too much. They had no choice but to remain on the defensive and hope Harry's team would arrive fast. Neville shifted his shield to deflect three consecutive severing hexes back towards the casters while his mind furiously tried to work out a solution.

"We have to" - Cho grunted - "split up!" she whispered anxiously, her strained voice suggesting that holding her shield was taking her a huge amount of effort. "I can't hold off much longer."

Neville parried another spell with Gryffindor's sword as he considered her words. He smiled grimly. This would be his last battle, he was sure of it. If that was the case then he would go down with a smirk on his face and a bunch of dead Death Eaters around him. "Blaise and Cho will get inside the house." He paused to concentrate on his shield, adding as much power as he could and being careful not to bounce off any curses towards his friends. "I'll levitate Oliver to the roof and take cover behind the left side. On my command."

He heard their muttered agreements as they struggled to keep the shields up. Despite that merely twenty seconds had passed since the attack had begun some Death Eaters, namely Linois, were already getting tired of firing curses and, thus, switched tactics. She raised her wand over her head, slashed it around wildly and the tip started to grow a bright scarlet colour. Neville watched her movements anxiously as he reinforced his shield and waited for the perfect moment to move. "Be ready," he would repeat over and over again as he watched.

With a last slash Linois extended her wand-arm and a long, thin whip made of fire burst from the tip of her wand. Most Death Eaters and Aurors paused for a fraction of a second to watch the new development and Neville took advantage of it. "Move!"

Blaise and Cho conjured matching slabs of rock and used the cover to dash into the house. Oliver leapt to the right and Neville jumped towards the left. In mid-jump he swished his wand and Wood suddenly found himself shooting up, bypassing the incoming curses, and landed safely on the roof, where he promptly laid flat on his stomach and returned fire.

Although the movements were fast and distracting, Linois caught up at the last second and aimed the recoiling fire-whip at Neville. His hastily erected shield proved useless against the attack. The fiery lasso smashed right through it and burnt his right arm badly. Immediately following the whip a severing curse ripped apart the tendons behind his right knee and blood splattered everywhere. A strangled cry left his mouth as he finished his jump, rolled and ducked behind the wall, only partially shielded from the semi-circle of attackers.

Pain shot up from his right leg and arm as he panted. It was too strong, too painful. He was sure he would black out any second now and he had yet to kill any Death Eaters. He didn't even notice as the pain overloaded his nervous system and he stopped breathing. He was seeing spots now; his thoughts still a scrambled mess he couldn't even understand.

A weak blasting curse smashed against his protective wall, showering him with splinters and adding small cuts to his face and body. The roaring noise was enough to snap him out of his trance and refocus on the situation. He overpowered a numbing charm directed at his useless leg and immediately felt the pain receding. He wasn't all that good with healing spells, his leg still hurt, but it was bearable. He repeated the process with his right arm and cast a paralyzing curse on his leg, being careful to keep it localized lest he incapacitated himself.

His leg stiff as a board and incapable of flexing, he shakily stood up and slid towards the back of the house. Now that he was at least aware of his surroundings Neville noted that the spell-work had not eased off at all. Quite the opposite, it was rapidly getting fiercer. The ground shook with blasting curses and the noise was practically deafening. With his right arm too sore to use he summoned Gryffindor's sword and stuffed it in its sheath. He tried to levitate himself to join Oliver on the roof but his hand was shaking too badly, making the process of swishing and flicking his wand impossible.

A jet of green light passed barely inches in front of his nose and he turned to look at a group of three Aurors that had split from the main group. Now on the side of the house Neville was protected from the lethal semi-circle but these three had nothing standing in their way.

The ground shook again as he limped towards the back of the house, half-successfully blocking the incoming curses. Once he made it Neville pressed his back against the back wall and peered at the way he had come. The three Aurors were running full-speed in his direction. He ducked his head behind the wall, made sure none of them could see him and closed his eyes, forcing his Occlumency-barriers to slam shut in hopes of blocking the pain and controlling his shaking.

It worked, partially. His left arm, now his wand-arm, was still trembling, but it was no longer that bad. He slowly levitated himself and landed safely on the roof, carefully crouching by the edge to have a good view of his surroundings.

He quickly scanned the setting and noticed Oliver was pinned down behind the large chimney of the roof. He couldn't see Blaise or Cho but he figured they were still inside the house, trying to block the many entrances and staying on the defensive rather than attacking foolishly. Blaise was a Slytherin after all.

He glanced down just in time to see the Aurors boldly pass the edge of the side-wall and fire off curses blindly at where he had been standing not ten seconds before. They stared confusedly at the porch they had just destroyed and even attempted to cancel a non-existent disillusionment charm. Neville made the most out of their blunder and pointed his wand at them. He took his time in gathering power, summoning everything he could into the spell before he whispered, "Reducto!"

The tell-tale dark red of the blasting curse burst out of his wand and met its mark on the ground, right in between the three Aurors. The ground shook with the explosion and they were blasted apart in different directions. Chunks of earth and a good amount of blood splattered the ground as the three Aurors smashed on the ground, blissfully unconscious or probably dead.

"Status and location report," Neville growled. He retreated from the edge of the roof and lay down on his stomach. Ever so slowly he crawled over the uneven tiles towards the middle of the roof to avoid the curses shooting upwards from the ground.

"We're having trouble barricading the house," he heard Cho's terrified voice through the Tactical-Talking-Tuner. "We don't have any serious injuries but it won't be long."

"I got a nasty burn on my back from that damn whip but otherwise I'm fine," Oliver said from his position only a few feet away from Neville. "What the bloody hell happened to you?"

Neville gave him a grim smile as he cricked his neck twice. "Useless right arm and even worse right leg. I'll live, if we manage to get out of this one." He craned his neck to look at the ground. An Auror was being levitated by his companion.

"Abscido!" Neville cried.

A sharp, metal disk leapt from his wand and raced towards the Auror. He didn't even have time to blink before the disk punctured his throat and exited through the back of his neck. The man died instantly and remained floating lifelessly above the roof. His companion must have realized what had happened because the levitation spell was cancelled and the man fell dead on the ground with a dull thump.

"Nice one," Oliver said as he conjured acid to fall over the heads of the Aurors and Death Eaters trying to get to his side of the roof. There was a shriek of surprise and pain as the substance met its mark and Wood smirked at him.

"Yeah, yeah, your style is all well and good but-" Blaise's voice was cut off as a roaring sound like a lightning bolt striking the ground met their ears, making it all but impossible to hear anything else.

Neville shut his eyes and covered his ears with his hands as the roaring echo continued, drowning out the rest of the sounds. Suddenly the noise stopped and several loud cracks sounded all around the house. He opened his eyes in time to see a bright flash of gold spread above him, a ward he recognized right away. There was only one person he knew that could cast an anti-portkey and anti-apparition ward simultaneously: Harry.

Neville looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of him tearing apart the Death Eaters limb by limb but couldn't spot him. Just as he concluded that Harry was invisible Neville heard a soft whooshing sound and turned to look in the direction it had come from.

Harry, his friend, brother in all but blood, was perched on the uneven tile like he had been born there. His legs slightly bent, both hands equipped with his wands and his glowing, green eyes taking in his surroundings. There was that presence he exuded again, but this time it was dangerous; he was posed like a serpent, tasting his enemies' scent, ready to uncoil and attack.

"I want all injured inside the house right now, no one but bearers of the Phoenix can get inside," Harry ordered at once, taking command of the situation."If you need help ask your nearest companion. The rest of you circle the house, shields in place, and try to drive them towards the street."

With his wand pointed at the roof, Neville began removing the tiles until only a few wedges of wood remained in place. He called a warning at those that could be walking below and vanished the pieces of wood. He looked at Harry just as he was turning to look at him. They locked gazes for a second, Harry grinned like a predator and Neville grinned back as he jumped through the opening he had created. Someone cushioned his fall and he landed lightly on his feet, although a spark of fire still travelled up his leg.

Inside the place was chaos. Furniture had been all but destroyed or transfigured into something else to block windows and doors, only to be destroyed again. Pieces of glass, wood and ceramic were strewn all over the floor. There wasn't a single window or door still standing and the internal walls that once supported the ceiling had been demolished. He suspected that the place was being supported magically and the purpose of tearing down the walls was to be able to look at all possible entrances without moving.

Blaise and Cho were still standing, each on one side of the house, firing curses through the windows, forcing the Death Eaters to pull back since none of them could pierce Harry's ward. Oliver had jumped through the hole Neville had created and joined the fighting as well, choosing to fire bone-breaking curses and the occasional killing-curse from the back of the house. Neville had full view of the burn-mark on his back as he jumped around and returned fire. It was a grotesque black and red line that travelled from his neck to his waist; a sign of cursed fire. Well, Neville was no stranger to scars. The burns on his right arm would heal eventually, that's what mattered.

Only Blaise, Cho, Oliver and Neville had been injured so far, which explained why they were alone in the house. Since all other flanks were covered Neville headed to the front, careful to avoid those parts of the main entrance that had been utterly destroyed.

He picked a spot where a window used to be and joined the fray. He could see Death Eaters and Aurors coming from both sides of the house, congregating at the front and retreating backwards towards the street. They were clearly attempting to bypass the wards Harry had set up, which only included anti-apparition and anti-portkey.

"Harry they're trying to get to the edge of the wards and flee!" Neville shouted. He supposed that making it out of this one alive should've been enough of a blessing but he refused to let the bastards escape.

"Busy," Harry's grunted reply met his ears.

Neville was starting to wonder who the hell could possibly keep Harry busy if Voldemort wasn't here when the roof shook rather badly, showering those inside the house with broken tiles, pieces of wood and clouds of dust. He hastily raised a shield and poked his head outside to look up when a body went flying from the roof and landed roughly thirty feet away from the house's front. His first thought was that it had to be Harry but then he realized that the person wasn't wearing the black and red robes the Order usually wore. Instead he saw the black robes of a Death Eater, a half-destroyed silver plaque and the blonde hair of Lauren Linois.

Harry suddenly landed lightly in front of the house with his back to Neville, the fiery Phoenix stitched on the back of his robes giving the impression of being alive. Next Neville noticed that the members of Harry's team were joining their leader on the front of the house, which meant that the Death Eaters and Aurors had all been forced to retreat towards the street.

Linois stood up shakily in front of her allies; chin held up defiantly and blue eyes burning with fury and humiliation. Other than a charred sleeve, Harry stood perfectly unharmed in front of his team members, their wands pointed at the retreating Death Eaters and Aurors.

Neville froze for a second at the sight but soon hastened to exit the house and join the line of Order members. Blaise, Oliver and Cho joined the ranks as well, sporting different levels of injuries but not quite defeated nor dead.

"You're lucky the Dark Lord hasn't returned yet, Potter," Linois spat angrily. She was shaking from head to toe, just like most of her allies, though Neville suspected it was more out of fury than fear of injury.

"Of course, blondie, whatever you say," Harry said calmly. The casual tone seemed to infuriate her further but Harry didn't seem to notice, or probably he just didn't care. "Will he be attending the party tonight? Should we perhaps arrange a meeting? I'm sure you can carry the message."

Neville just knew this was going to get ugly.

"YOU TRAITOROUS, HALF-BLOODED, SON OF A BITCH!" she half-yelled and half-growled furiously. Linois was bordering an apoplectic fit by now and Neville was taking pleasure in every second of it. If the smug looks of the other Order members were anything to go by, Neville was willing to bet his healthy leg that they were enjoying it too.

"Almost there," Harry whispered, so low that Neville had to concentrate to hear him, even using the Tactical-Talking-Tuners."We'll take advantage of this situation and wipe out as many as we can. Maybe we can save ourselves the Halloween-massacre this year." There were some muttered agreements and immediately every face turned grim. While Linois continued her angry tirade the rest of the Death Eaters and Aurors were eyeing the Order members warily, taking steps back when they thought they weren't watching. As soon as all of their faces went from smug to grim they froze in mid-step and looked at the still apoplectic Linois. "Go for killing curses people, we can't have them escaping. Not today."

Neville concentrated on his deceased parents and grandmother, drawing anger and hatred from their murders in order to power the killing curse. It usually took all of his concentration to perform a successfulAvada Kedavra and the power one had to put behind it was the reason it couldn't be used constantly. It was especially hard for light-wizards to cast given the deranged frame of mind it required.

Linois continued her tirade, every now and then raising her wand and throwing nasty and potentially lethal curses at Harry, who would deflect them with an almost lazy flick of his wand. Neville could feel the tension building up, and so could the retreating Death Eaters and Aurors. Suddenly Linois stopped firing off curses when she noticed that her allies were more than fifteen feet behind her. She turned to look at them furiously, probably about to curse them herself, when Harry spoke loudly. "NOW!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

At least ten lethal curses burst from the tip of the Order members' wands, heading directly towards the frozen Death Eaters and Aurors. Neville was ready to pump up his fist in triumph when Linois masterfully pointed her palm and wand towards the ground and raised them upwards forcefully.

There was an ominous rumble and suddenly the ground seemed to split at her feet. A thick wall of earth sprung from the ground, separating the Death Eaters, Aurors and Linois from death. The ten jets of green light smashed powerfully against the wall but only a few manage to pierce it. Chunks of earth and roots exploded everywhere and a few yelps and shrieks of surprise met their ears from the other side of the protective barrier.

Harry snarled furiously and swept away the wall of earth with a vicious slash of his wand. There was a flash of white and a loud gong as Harry's spell bounced off of Linois shield. The battle immediately recommenced, this time more furious and dangerous than before. There was no cover now, only shields.

Neville leapt aside, ignoring the jet of green light that swept past his shoulder and returned fire. "Effrego! Atonito! Stupefy! Expulso! Diffindo!" Most curses were deflected but the last severing hex met its mark and slashed a Death Eater's throat, killing him instantly.

Order members, Death Eaters and Aurors were being hit all the time, both lines of warriors growing thinner and thinner with every second that passed. Neville was about to suggest they leave and avoid losses when he heard a weird noise to his left and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

He turned his head to look at Harry. Between his wands there was a constant stream of blue lights that jumped erratically from tip to tip. With a strangled cry Harry pointed both wands forward and massive bolts of blue and yellow light ripped the air in half as they tore through the ranks of Death Eaters and Aurors alike. Some shields held but most crumbled at once and the unfortunate witches or wizards dropped dead instantly. Neville realized with a jerk that it was an overpowered electrifying curse and the last time Harry had tried it he had fallen unconscious for two days.

"Continue firing! It won't last much longer!" Neville called loudly. Curses were once again being thrown ferociously at the dying enemies, even the most powerful shields collapsing against the combination of Harry's curse and multiple others at the same time. With a grunt, Harry lowered his arms weakly and almost collapsed on the spot, effectively interrupting the onslaught. To Neville's surprise, this time he managed to stay awake, though he was completely drained.

The battle didn't last much longer after that. Only three Death Eaters and one Auror remained standing, including Lauren Linois, though they were all the worse for wear. Most Order members were completely drained. Neville managed to throw a weak stunning spell that missed its mark by more than five feet before he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.

Their remaining opponents had similar reactions, as did a few other Order members. Those that were still standing kept firing. To their surprise, the only Auror still standing transformed into some breed of dog Neville couldn't place and scampered out of the wards limping heavily, curses missing him by inches. Taking advantage of the lack of fire, Linois transformed into what would usually be a beautiful falcon and took off unsteadily. A few curses followed her movements but none made contact with the rumpled bird. After a few seconds two distant cracks echoed in the now silent street.

Neville deactivated his Tactical-Talking-Tuner and collapsed on his back, barely managing to stay awake. Other Order members were milling about, shouting orders and tending to injuries. He distantly heard someone was dead but couldn't manage to stand up and go look for himself. A grim-faced woman with black hair and dark eyes Neville recognized as Katie Bell did her best to patch him up. She conjured a stretcher and levitated him on top of it.

Harry was trying to dismantle his wards, usually an easy feat since he was the one who cast them. Once he had finished he turned to look at him gravely and Neville instantly felt like he had been punched in his guts. A cold feeling spread through his body as he locked eyes with Harry's sad, green ones. There was grief hidden behind his already dull stare and, when Neville felt he couldn't take it anymore, he asked the dreaded and, unfortunately, frequent question.

"Who?" he croaked.

His brother in all but blood looked at him sadly, almost pleading with him not to force him to answer. Other Order members were still running around, setting fire to the burning corpses of Death Eaters and Aurors, binding those that were still alive, collecting valuable or useful objects and organizing portkeys to get back to The Valley, unaware of the staring contest Harry and Neville were having.

He was too exhausted and in too much pain to remain awake any longer. Neville knew his friends would take care of him; he didn't have to worry about making it back home. But still, he needed to know before he collapsed. He needed to know who would be buried tomorrow, honoured amongst many others they had lost. He could feel the darkness enveloping him and gave Harry a last pleading look through half-lidded eyes.

"Oliver and Lonny," Neville heard before he blacked out.