Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-Three ~ Snow and Fire

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I know there's one thing
That you showed me
Just give love to all.

Creed ~ Lullaby
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Harry paused in the work he, Aberforth, and McGonagall were doing during Harry's free Friday afternoon. It seemed appropriate that he was still in Dumbledore's office during these hours that the two had spent in lessons. It seemed... inappropriate that they were cleaning the office out during these hours. Old Daily Prophet copies were being used as cushioning around all the spindly instruments and pictures scattered around Dumbledore's private rooms. Sure, spells would be just as usefully, but they wore out, and there was no telling how long this stuff would be in storage. Aberforth was explaining all the stories behind the knick-knacks and pictures, while McGonagall instructed what each of the instruments were for, for many of them were transfiguration tools.

"This is a pic of Nan, Al, and me during his seventh year," Aberforth said, handing Harry the small, framed portrait. Two auburn haired boys stood on either side of a shorter girl with long black hair. Albus stood slightly apart from the other two, while Nancy Nettle couldn't keep her eyes off of him. Abe-in-the-picture couldn't stop acting the fool, trying to gain Nancy's attention. As Harry carefully wrapped it in newspaper, Abe continued explaining. "We stood for that portrait the day before we took the train back to Hogwarts after Christmas break. Nan had come for the whole break, and Mum wanted a pic of us so that she could remember us in our "youthful naivety" or something like that. You can tell that Nan had a crush on Al, while I had a crush on Nan. Not sure if that ever did change."

"Did he ever return her feelings?" McGonagall asked from where she stood folding Dumbledore's colorful robes.

"I think there were times he wanted to," Abe answered sadly. "He didn't think he deserved to be happy."

"Because of his years in the Dark Arts?" Harry guessed. He carefully placed the picture in a box with other portraits and photographs. Abe nodded, holding a portrait of the brothers in the arms of a witch who was obviously their mother. They looked to be eight or nine years old.

"He blamed our mum's death on himself," Abe explained. "And, in many ways, he was right in doing that. One of his experiments got out of control while he was gone one summer and destroyed the family estate. She had just apparated onto the property when it exploded, just bad timing and bad luck. We didn't know where to find him. She died and was cremated before he found out. The world wouldn't punish him for the 'accident', so he punished himself."

There was silence as Harry wrapped a picture of a Hogwarts graduating class. There were many of those, and Harry had speculated that there was a picture for every year the professor had been teaching and running Hogwarts. There were definitely enough of them.

"I haven't seen Nancy in a while," McGonagall mused.

"No," Abe answered. There was a heaviness in his voice and a deep sadness. "My guess is she doesn't want to see him in such a state. Nan never really got over him. They would have been perfect for each other. As much as I hate to admit that, I must. Nan and Al were meant to be, but never were."

They continued, talking softly and moving carefully. Harry brought up his troubles with Burke and McGonagall promised to talk to the professor about it. They discussed a few of the things that would come up in the Order meeting the next evening. Finally, all the rooms were empty, except for the brown boxes. The three stood near the door, looking at the bare office. Harry couldn't believe that this was reality. It just didn't seem right. It didn't seem possible.

"Never thought he'd leave Hogwarts this way," Abe said, almost talking to himself.

"Never thought he'd actually leave," McGonagall agreed.

"He'll never be completely gone," Harry said, remembering the words Dumbledore spoke to him a long time ago. "As long as we remember him and stay true to his beliefs, he'll never truly leave Hogwarts."

"Very true," Abe said, grabbing the empty phoenix stand. "Has Fawkes left Al's side yet?"

"He's been there every time I've visited," McGonagall said, casting levitating spells on several boxes. The two men followed her example and they headed down the stairs.

"How long has Professor Dumbledore had Fawkes?" Harry asked.

"Nigh on ninety years since Fawkes started following Al around," Abe answered thoughtfully. "Al and Fawkes have been friends far longer, I think... never thought to ask him about it."

"There are a lot of things we never asked," McGonagall said heavily. "None of us thought he'd ever die."

"And when faced with that fact, there was too much to do," Harry added. "There was just no time to ask."

"We're taking this to your old office, right, Minerva?" Abe asked after several suffocating minutes of silence. She just nodded. There was such a finality in this act--taking Dumbledore's things away--and none of them really wanted it to end. When they were done moving, it was almost as if they had fully accepted the old man's coming death.

Harry knew, for himself at least, that that was not the case. Somehow, by some miracle, Dumbledore had to recover. He couldn't die. They weren't ready for that. They needed him!

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Harry looked around at the adults discussing Remus's report on the werewolf population. Harry still couldn't believe he was an actual member of the Order of the Phoenix, and yet here he was. It was a frightening thought as well; one more step closer to the final battle--to the end.

"Finally, tonight we need to choose Albus' successors in several areas," Aberforth said wearily. "First, the head of the Order itself. Minerva McGonagall and myself have been nominated and accepted the possible responsibility and work the post would entail. Take a slip of parchment and write the name of the person you're voting for." They voted and Tonks counted them, with Remus and Shacklebolt double and triple checking them.

"Aberforth came in second, so Minerva, you've got the job," Tonks said gravely. "Good luck with that." The older witch nodded her head solemnly, and Harry watched a familiar weight settle on the professor's shoulders. The responsibility of this war was a heavy one.

"Next, does anyone have a suggestion for the appointment to the International Confederation?" Abe asked. "We need someone that will keep pleading for aide from abroad."

"And someone that won't feel like an idiot doing it," Shacklebolt added, his mouth a tight line. "I've heard talk of Bently being nominated." There were a few sounds of agreement and a nod here and there. Shacklebolt shook his head, however. "There's no way he'd keep asking because he'd feel like a fool. And that's one thing Bently won't tolerate."

"True, he does have that draw back," Thia agreed. "I heard that Amelia Bones was thinking of running."

"I'm all for her," Vance nodded. "And yes, she's willing to be nominated. And yes, she's determined to keep pleading for aide. We were just talking about it last evening."

"So do we all agree?" Minerva asked. Everyone nodded. "Then just throw your weight in behind her. We all know how to do that, right?" There were several more nods. "Next, the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot is also opened now. Ogden is my personal favorite to replace Albus. Any other opinions?"

"I'd agree with Ogden," Vance said after a second of thought. "Of all the Elders, his view on punishments for Death Eaters correlates closest with ours."

"And he's not senile," Tonks threw out there, not to be funny but to honestly point it out. Harry had heard talk of a few Elders that most likely were.

"Does anyone have any objections?" Minerva asked after a few moments of silence.

"None," Remus said in reply, gaining several nods and yeas.

"That's settled then," Minerva said with a sigh. "Last but not least, the Fidelius Charm can not be added to or replaced until Albus' death." Harry heard the hesitation in her voice, the sadness, the disbelief. Making plans for Dumbledore's death seemed... rude and impolite. "Without the Secret Keeper's participation, the spell cannot change. It was on the list of things Albus had to finish before the poison disabled him completely."

"He worked himself too hard," Snape spat, his voice filled with anger and contempt. Harry looked over, surprised, but he soon realized that it was only self-contempt that had made Snape's voice sound so bitter. "Drove the poison deep into his system much sooner than need be!"

"And he could act no other way," Abe commented, placing a calming hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Does anyone have any suggestions for Albus' replacement?" Minerva asked, returning the conversation to the point at hand.

"You?" Dedalus Diggle asked, looking at Minerva.

"No, too obvious," Moody barked. "Minerva and Aberforth are Albus' successors. It wouldn't take a genius to guess that it was one of them. The only reason any of us let Albus take both positions to begin with is because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is afraid of him."

There were some nods of agreement, followed by silence. Most everyone else would be too much of a liability to become the secret keeper. The person would have to stay hidden, protected, and not go out on Order business. Snape as a teacher could stay safe at Hogwarts, but the Dark Lord wanted him as a traitor. Harry, himself, was too young and also wanted too much. All the other teachers and Aurors at Hogwarts had similar reasons that they couldn't help. Everyone else had important uses, or went out too often. Wait, that wasn't true.

"What about Mrs. Weasley?" Harry suggested, a hint of cautiousness leaking into his tone. He didn't feel completely comfortable speaking his mind; the meetings made him feel like he should raise his hand and wait to be called on. The adults that knew Harry best nodded, while the rest looked surprised to see him there as if they had forgotten he was a member or were affronted that the child dared to talk during this important adult conversation. "She's always at headquarters keeping it habitable and food on the table for the hungry. She didn't go out that often to begin with, and almost never does now. I would trust my life in her hands. And I bet after just a taste of one of her rants, Voldemort would be terrified of her." There were a few chuckles at that and Harry thought Mrs. Weasley was actually blushing. "The Order couldn't be in safer hands."

There was some debate after that, but it seemed that by the end most everyone was convinced. They had until Dumbledore's death after all, so there was no need to make a hurried decision.

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An ice cream social? What an absolutely childish, ridiculous, unneeded frivolity! Minerva patted the frail, skeletal hand she held in her own. So very Albus. It was his idea, back in September to hold an ice cream social in December. He had argued for it vehemently.

"Really, Albus, an ice cream social? In December?" Minerva asked, staring at the Headmaster's proud handwriting before her. She held a slip from Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Severus, Pomona, Filius, Severus, herself, and Albus. Mr. Potter's suggestion of a dance was quite surprisingly selfish and shallow for him. Severus' suggestion of a carnival was disturbingly surprising. Albus' suggestion of an ice cream social was just more proof that he was insane.

"Why yes, Minerva," he replied with a smile and twinkle in his eye. "Ice cream is quite overlooked in the middle of the winter."

"Could it be because of the snow and ice outside at that time of the year?" Severus replied sarcastically.

"I never saw why that should stop anyone," Albus remarked thoughtfully. "It would be different if we didn't have heat."

"Maybe because the castle is always so chilly and drafty," Pomona argued. "The poor students have to wear cloaks while inside because of the drafts!"

"I agree," Filius said with a nod. "Will the students want ice cream?"

"When do teenagers ever turn down sugar and chocolate?" Albus replied.

Never, it seemed. She listened to the students file past the Infirmary doors, their excited voices belaying the worry each student felt. Well, maybe not every student, but the large majority. They would all be bundled up in cloaks until they reached the Great Hall. Large fires had been burning all night and day to heat the huge room. The effort was worth it. Along with the decorations and a few additional spells, it would feel like a comfortably hot summer afternoon. Hopefully the students had listened to the tip and wore shorts and short-sleeved shirts underneath those cloaks.

Hopefully the students would forget about their worries and enjoy the ice cream social that Dumbledore had planned so carefully back in September. He had probably started planning moments after they had agreed that the social would be one of the substitutions. It would be his parting gift to them.

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"First years," Ron bellowed down in the Great Hall, "line up over here for your ice cream! Dean and Seamus get into Hermione's line for yours!"

"Come on," Dean complained. "Hermione's not giving out nearly enough ice cream."

"Not even sure why we're having an ice cream social in December all things considered," Seamus muttered, walking over to Hermione's line and dragging his best friend behind him.

"Dumbledore's wishes," Harry answered, having overheard the comment as Seamus passed. He was busy getting the students into lines. He weaved his way through the crowd, pointing the arriving students to the correct lines. This was insane! Who are these sugar fiends? Where were the sane students he attended classes with? What was the point of cutting in the line like Pansy and several Slytherins she hung out with were doing? "Pansy! You can't cut into that line!"

"And why not?" she replied haughtily.

"Several reasons," Harry said marking them off on his fingers. "One, this line is for third years; you and company are not third years. Two, cutting is not allowed. Three, I said so. Any questions?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Who died and made you Headmaster?" she asked, lowering her voice further as she continued. "Oh, that's right, he isn't dead... yet."

"Miss Parkinson," a dangerously smooth voice said from behind her. Pansy turned around to look up at her Head of House. "If you would go to my office and wait for me there." He waited and she left with a huff. When she was out the doors, he turned to look at her friends. "Miss Granger is serving seventh years and Mr. Zabini is serving sixth years. Go to the back of their lines if you want ice cream."

The group scattered at their Head of House's commands and Harry nodded his thanks to Snape. The Professor nodded back and left the Great Hall to deal with Pansy. Harry was thankful he wouldn't have to. That was a dangerous topic, and he was sure his anger would have gotten in the way. Snape would be able to keep his calm while dealing with the girl.

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Albus was shaking, Fawkes was crying, and Minerva felt tears trace down her face. The tremors that shook her old friend's body were killing him, taking him from her forever. How had she failed him? He, of course, said she hadn't, but still. There had to have been some other way!

"Oh dear Merlin, what's the matter with the boy?" she asked, rushing to Harry's side. He lay perfectly still, blood spilling from his scar. Surely the information that Albus was dying hadn't caused this fit! Poppy and Althea pushed her to the side and started to examine him instead of the contrary Headmaster. She stood, turning to look up at Albus. "Will you please consider slowing down and resting? For the school? For Harry?" She could almost hear the un-asked question. For me? She was sure Albus had heard it.

"I can't, Minerva," he replied with a shake of his head. Severus barely raised an eyebrow, but that spoke volumes. "No, Severus, it is not possible. There is too much that must be seen too; I can't take a chance that it won't be, at least, partially finished. If it was more sure that resting would slow the poison's march forward, I would slow down and remain in bed." He raised a hand to stop Severus' protesting. "Alas, it is not a sure thing, my boy. You know it. Now, what's the matter with Harry?"

"I'm not sure," Poppy replied slowly. "Nothing that we can tell, that's for sure."

"We should move him the hospital wing until he wakes," Althea said, standing up slowly.

"Could we take him to St. Mungo's?" Minerva asked. "Molly is besides herself with worry for her children, having him here will only add to the stress. And Nancy can watch over him there."

"Good idea," Albus said with a nod. "I'll have Thia take him." He sent a Patronus to the Auror, and ten minutes later, Thia and Harry were gone to St. Mungo's. Althea and Poppy were shoo'ed out of the office; with nothing they could do, they had no reason to stay. Severus followed them out the door, his robes billowing as he swept the door shut behind him.

"Off to find a cure, no doubt," Minerva said softly. She took the offered chair in front of the fire across from where Albus had decided to sit.

"I wish he wouldn't waste his time," her old friend said with a sigh. "He's so close on his other project. Having Remus here has helped with it."

"How do you know it is a waste of time?"

"I know it is time for me to move on. I am in need of a new adventure."

"Why?" He looked away from her, knowing she wasn't asking why he wanted a new adventure. They were old confidants; she knew why he wanted that. But why did he have to be the one to swallow it?

"Who else?" That was it, wasn't it? Who else had lived such a long and filled life? Filled with the good and the bad; filled so full that any more pouring would only create a mess. "I'm an old man who has made too many mistakes. I'm not an asset to the War any longer. Harry is growing too dependant on me."

"So you poisoned yourself?" She knew her voice was childish and bitter, but she herself was bitter.

"That isn't fair, Minerva," he replied tiredly. She felt the fight seep out of her body. He was right; that was terribly unfair of her. "That poison had to be swallowed."

"Couldn't we have banished it to the middle of the Sahara?"

"That desert has been used as a dumping ground way too often," he said firmly. "There are peoples that live there, same as you and I live in these mountains. I can not ruin what they hold dear so that what I hold dear will be safe."

"Fawkes could cry for you!"

"If only Salazar had not planned for that," Albus replied heavily. "But, Godric already had a phoenix, and there was no way that Salazar would let the Dark Lord of his time survive because of the tears of such a pure animal. All the tears that all the phoenixes of this world could cry would not save me, Minerva."

"Just have vanished it?" She was clutching at straws, and she knew it, but... she couldn't give up on him so soon.

"Minerva, you know as well as I do what happened the last time that was tried," he said wearily. "The Parthenon has never been the same since then. Why anyone on the side of light used such a sacred place as headquarters still baffles me! At least muggles believe that it was just gunpowder and a stray bomb that ruined it. I could not let that happen to Hogwarts, even if we evacuated the students."

"Did you have to let the boy bring it onto campus?"

"And let Tom use it on someone else? Particularly on Theodore or Draco as punishment? Minerva, how could you even ask that of me?"

"I'm sorry, Albus, I truly am," she said softly. She was crying now, the warm tears falling swiftly down her cheeks. Just as they had sixteen long years before when Lily and James were killed. "I wish there was some way for me to help you. I feel like I have failed you."

"You haven't, Min," he replied, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "In all these long years I have known you, you have never let me down. Not as a student, not as an apprentice, not as a colleague when I took over Defense, not as an employee, not as a friend. Never. You have always been there when I needed you, done as you were expected, done more than what was expected. Do not let any type of guilt eat at you."

"I should be the one comforting you!"

"Why? I'm the one leaving."

She still wasn't sure what he had meant. Even with the Draught of Living Death, Albus was spasming painfully, his jaw clutched in agony. A small mouse sat on the windowsill watching the scene with solemn black eyes, its black hair mostly white in age. Minerva blinked at the tears painfully. She would not cry, not until he died! She couldn't give up on him yet! Severus would pull off a miracle! He would, he had to!

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Harry walked over to the other sixth and seventh years. The prefects had successfully finished serving everyone once and were now enjoying their own ice cream sundaes. He took the seat next to Ginny, smiling as she glared at her brother who sat on his other side.

"We can have seconds, right?" Dean asked, cleaning his bowl of chocolate with his finger.

"Yeah, just help yourselves," Harry answered. He started on his huge mound of ice cream, fudge sauce, sprinkles, bananas, peanuts, cherries, and peanut butter. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as everyone ate the treat. Either they were too busy eating or just too aware of where their former Headmaster was. Harry knew for him it was both.

"OW!" Ron swore, dropping his spoon and clutching at his forehead. "Bloody brain freeze," he muttered, his voice filled with pain. Harry commiserated with his friend's pain, but could do nothing to help him. There was no known magical cure for a brain freeze, despite the useless research on the subject.

"Serves you right," Ginny muttered. Harry smiled as she went off on her brother. That morning, Ginny had accidentally knocked over her goblet. Ron just had to make a 'elbow in the butter' comment and Ginny hadn't forgiven him yet. Harry ate in silence, watching the fully recovered siblings fight amiably. Well, almost fully recovered siblings. If Ron got really worked up, his skin would take on a turquoise tinge. Once Seamus and Dean had found that out a few days ago, they had started to do all they could to aggravate him. The Healers were trying to figure out why the Sneezewort wasn't leaving his system completely, but other, more pressing issues were always creeping up to distract them.

At least everybody seemed to be relaxing and talking now. The noise had definitely increased. Must have been the ice cream, Harry thought, thankful that the students could be the children and teenagers that they were.

"Harry, how is Dumbledore?" Blaise asked softly from where he sat across from him.

"I haven't seen him today. McGonagall is sitting in the hospital wing with him," Harry answered softly. "He was in rough shape last night though."

"I was surprised to see Professor Snape earlier," Sephra said thoughtfully.

"Professor McGonagall made him supervise," Hermione explained. "We needed one more teacher in here, and he was the only one able. Speaking of him, where is he?"

"I bet he skived off," Harry muttered. "Pansy made a stupid remark and he took her to his office for punishment. I bet he never came back."

"Is he going to find that antidote?" Luna asked, her dreamy voice falling victim to a seriousness that did not fit the girl.

"I hope so," Harry replied, his voice betraying his doubts and fears. "But I don't plan on it."

"Plan for the worst, hope for the best," Hermione summed up. The wizard kids looked at her funny. "A muggle phrase, my Grandma Rietveld used to say it all the time. 'That way,' she said, 'the only surprises you ever get are good ones' and it's worked for me... for the most part at least."

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Minerva felt the bone-deep tremors of Albus' body reach a more frenzied pace, even though it appeared that he had stopped shaking. Fawkes blinked suddenly, sensing the difference. A sob escaped her lips. This was not good!

"Althea! Poppy! Quick!" Her frantic pleas brought the two healers out instantly. They stopped running once they realized what was happening. A dark look passed between the two, tears starting to fall down their faces. The doors opened and Severus swooped in. It went to show how exhausted and pained she was at the moment, for she couldn't find it in herself to chide the man for not being in the Great Hall.

He stopped short once he realized what was happening. His mouth formed the word, "Oh." His eyes took on the dark, stormy black she had only seen a few times. She reached out her right hand to take Severus' left, squeezing it to reassure him. The Slytherin was too stunned by Albus' state to even realize what she had done. The mouse squeaked, bringing Minerva's attention back to the Headmaster (she was not happy with the title Headmistress as long as he was alive!) in dismay.

His mouth was open in a silent scream, his voice box long since destroyed by the poison. The vibrations in his bones had moved beyond the frequency that she could feel. They were slowly disintegrating into dust. His ribs were collapsing. Severus twitched involuntarily. His young eyes seemed to shout, 'Give him a mercy stroke! Damn you! Don't let him die like this!' She squeezed his hand tightly, surprising him into looking at her. She shook her head; Albus had told them "No!" at his last Order meeting.

"I don't care, Severus!" Albus said wearily, his long fingers rubbing at his temples. "I will not have any of you bear that guilt! I cannot ask any of you to take that task onto your shoulders and I will not let you decide once I am unable to dissuade you. Have I made myself clear?"

"So you wish us to watch you die like that?" Severus replied, shouting. The Order members were silent, too shocked to say anything; most had never seen Severus show more than the slightest emotion. Not to mention even suggesting such a despicable thing! They didn't understand, that in Severus' mind, it was not despicable, but honorable. It had to be. If it wasn't, his guilt would overwhelm him and destroy the boy. "I'm sure you have the slightest notion of the pain you will be in. Do you condemn us to watch as you live through that only to die? Can you not give yourself and us a bit of relief?"

"I will not let you!" Albus said firmly, his voice betraying his anger finally. "Severus, do not argue with me about this. I appreciate the sentiment and I am truly sorry that you will have to watch me 'live through the pain only to die'. I assure you, I know exactly how much pain I will be in, and I also assure you that I will be more than a match for the pain. I will not, however, leave such a lasting scar on any of you."

"And I assure you that I am more than a match for such a 'lasting scar' as you put it," Severus replied bitterly.

"No!" Albus said, his voice taking on a 'commander quality' that Severus identified easily. The younger man sat in his chair, his hands curled into fists, and a sneer plastered on his face. Albus reacted to that instantly, the anger draining out of him. "Severus?" The younger man stared at the table defiantly and Minerva was forcefully reminded of young Mr. Potter. "Please look at me, Severus."

Severus looked up, his eyes stormy and hurt. The Slytherin hated it when anyone tried to command him to do something in such a tone. Minerva had a feeling that it reminded him of his father, not a good subject, and of You-Know-Who, another bad subject.

"I am sorry, but I can not scar you once more," Albus said softly. "I have asked too much from you."

"I have sins to pay for as well as you, Headmaster," Severus replied, his voice regaining its neutrality. His face and eyes had cleared as well. The natural and carefully developed Occlumency skills the man had taken over, helping him gain control. If there was anything Severus hated more than being commanded, it was losing control of himself. "You are not the only one paying for mistakes made in one's youth."

"At your age now, I had not yet realized the mistakes I had made," Albus replied darkly. Most of the Order members were confused, and Minerva was preparing herself to remind the two men that others were around. "Severus, I have already asked too much from you. I have asked you to stray too close to the Dark for too long. It is not in your nature." He held up a hand to stop Severus from interrupting. "No, it is not in your nature. You have become what you are because people like your father, Sirius, and myself have shaped you to be that way. Asking you to kill Lucius was wrong of me, and, as much as I know you had every reason to want that man dead, I should not have asked you. I will not let you add my name to your list. I will not have my blood on your hands." The Headmaster paused, letting his words sink in. "Do you hear me?"

Severus looked up at the sound of pleading in Albus' voice. Everyone was surprised. The two men did not break their staring contest for several minutes, but at last, Severus nodded.

"I do."

Albus' eyes shot open; his lungs took a deep breath; his heart strove to continue beating; his bones labored to hold together; his brain tried to coordinate everything. The mouse squeaked once more before scurrying to sit on the pillow next to him, a paw on his ear. Minerva barely had time to react to the strange behavior, before Albus' brain commanded his lungs to let go of the breath in a long exhale. His face cleared of pain as the brain started to shut itself off. His eyes closed, his heart stopped, his lungs let out the last of the air as the brain finished its last task.

Fawkes let out a long piercing screech of despair.

Albus Dumbledore was dead.

Minerva stood to leave before Fawkes had finished wailing for his lost friend. There were things that needed to be done as soon as possible. Hogwarts was at a very dangerous point at the moment. It wouldn't do to let You-Know-Who destroy Hogwarts when Albus had just died to save her. It would not do at all. She wiped at the tears angrily. These would not do at all, either! She must be strong--for Albus!

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"I don't think we should, Harry," Ron said calculating. "We're only giving them a chance to work out a strategy to use against us."

"Come on, Ron, it'll be fun," Harry replied. "Slytherin vs. Gryffindor without any pressure. I was really looking forward to last year's re-match. And it will be good for the team."

"Who's team?" Ron replied.

"Both, you idiot," Ginny replied. "While they're busy scouting us out, we can be busy scouting--" Ginny stopped as a piercing screech echoed throughout Hogwarts. Harry felt a dull ache fill his chest, though he couldn't tell anyone why. "What was that?" Ginny asked once the sound faded away.

"I have no idea," Hermione answered honestly. Ron exchanged a look with Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Harry. If Hermione didn't know what it was, what could it be?

Harry cleared his throat. "I agree with Ginny," he finally said, trying to return the conversation back to the harmless talk of Quidditch. Whatever that was, he would find out soon enough. "We can use it to scout out Slytherin and sharpen our skills against them."

"I don't see why you're so scared," Sephra said idly, looking at her fingernails as if they were the most fascinating things in the world.

"I'm not scared," Ron muttered angrily.

"It seems to me that you are," Blaise said nonchalantly, eating his last bite of ice cream with care.

"Fine, you have your practice match," Ron said, his ears an angry red color.

"Mr. Potter, a word if I may," Professor McGonagall said from behind him, startling him slightly. She was supposed to be with Dumbledore.

"Of course," Harry said, setting his spoon down, giving Ginny's hand a squeeze, and standing quickly. "Where?"

"In the Entrance Hall, if you would," she said and waited to follow Harry once he started walking. She closed the door to the Great Hall once they were out of the extremely warm room. He turned around and looked into McGonagall's very red eyes.

It couldn't be. It... couldn't...

"He just died."

It was.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. How could weeks of preparation and planning not help with the ache in his chest? A tear or two came unbidden, but Harry didn't let more than those few fall. He would need to face the school in a few minutes, and it would not be wise to have red eyes.

Dumbledore was gone.

Gone, forever, just like everyone else he had ever loved in any significant way. His parents gone before he could form decent memories of them. Sirius gone after only a few years together, two years of guidance. And now, Dumbledore gone when he had finally learnt to let the man in. How was this fair?

"Do we wait for the end of the social or tell them now?" Harry asked, letting out a long breath.

"They deserve to know now," she answered. "I'll tell them, why don't you go and get Aberforth from the Hogs Head."

"As in go to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he doesn't have a floo in the pub and I can't leave the school so soon after his death," she answered, opening the door. She gave him a piercing look, and then placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He died a great man. Celebrate his life, don't mourn his death."

"It's just the next great adventure," Harry replied with a nod. He walked quickly out of the school and down the grounds. Going past the gate, he apparated to the Hogs Head. There were things to do before news got out that Dumbledore was gone forever. Now was not the time to mourn. They had to make sure there would be a world worth living in, the world Dumbledore had died to save. They could reminisce and mourn and cry later.

It was just going to be hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was beautiful. The sun was shining, not a cloud in sight. The weather was cool, but at least it wasn't bitterly cold. You could see for miles around from the Astronomy Tower. If Harry looked hard enough, to the southwest, he could see where the Hogwarts Wall ran into the Lake. If he looked even harder he could see the black spot of people sitting in rows upon rows of chairs. They were black against the first snowfall of the year, later than normal. They were a smudge on this seemingly perfect world.

But Harry wasn't looking to the southwest. His back was to the south, facing north, slightly to the east. The Quidditch Pitch was in his peripheral vision off to the left. He was watching the thestrals rising above the forest, unusually active for these beasts. With their dark, skeleton bodies in sharp contrast with the white of the forest, they had Harry completely mesmerized. The quick, serpentine acrobatics of these flying horses had Harry itching to learn to ride them properly. As if he would have the time. No, not for a while. Maybe in a few years, after this war was over and everything had settled down, maybe then he could learn to ride these flying horses.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice came from the door. "We're ready to go." He nodded absentmindedly, took one last look at the thestrals, and took Ginny's offered hand. They walked down to the Entrance Hall where Dumbledore's body lay in state. Emmeline Vance, Remus, and Hagrid stepped towards the stretcher that Dumbledore lay on once they saw him. Ginny took the last spot and they lifted the body. Harry, Aberforth, Nettle, McGonagall, and Snape filed in behind, tears on all but Harry's and Snape's faces.

The group wound their way around the Lake, heading for the spot where the crowd waited. It was a long walk, and a deep sorrow settled on Harry's heart. Fawkes flew next to the body, oddly silent. No one had heard a peep out of him since Dumbledore's death. Not since the screech that still haunted some of the first years' nightmares. Soon the huge crowd came into sight, the smudge turning into individuals who wanted to honor this great man.

The four bearers set Dumbledore's body onto the funeral pyre and stepped back to stand near the waiting torch. Harry waited for a moment, before walking forward to address the crowd.

"Thank you for coming to the funeral of my friend, mentor, and adoptive grandfather, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Harry intoned, feeling the magic the words invoked surround him. "When I was eleven, Professor Dumbledore told me his greatest desire was a pair of socks. Socks! So ordinary, so normal, so boring. But that was who he was. He could find the value in everything, from a good pair of socks to the misunderstood of our world. And instead of standing by as the powerful misused their power, he did something to protect those who could not protect themselves. Professor Dumbledore helped those who could not help themselves and gave strength to those that could with a bit of prompting. The world has lost a true hero. Let us join together in our grief and in that way give each other comfort."

He stepped forward and placed a pair of warm, fuzzy, red-, yellow-, blue-, and green-striped socks along side Dumbledore's body. Digging through a pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and looked at the words he had written in anger, fear, and desolation.

Dumbledore--

Well, I'm writing to let you know that your gamble failed...

Why did Dumbledore take this final gamble that had led to his death? What will it really gain them? Whether Dumbledore's decision was right or wrong, Harry was going to do his best to make it right. This war was not going to end in their failure!

Good luck with YOUR war...

It was his war now, it always had been. Laying the letter next to the man who had shown him so much over the years, Harry felt a soft sense of peace replace some of the grief in his heart. He stepped back and Aberforth stepped forward.

"Thank you for coming to the funeral of my brother, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he said softly. "It's a great gift to be given a big brother. Someone who, no matter what, will defend you to others, but will tease you mercilessly and pitilessly himself. Some of our best memories were of our days at Hogwarts. Life has taken us down two very different paths, his one of fame, and mine one of obscurity. But, no matter where it took us, when we got back together it was as if we had never been separated." Aberforth paused, and turned completely towards the pyre and his brother. "I'll miss the lemon drops, bro." There was a pause as Aberforth pulled something out of his pocket, and then he turned back to face the crowd. "Let us join together in our grief and in that way give each other comfort." Harry smiled faintly, remembering that bag of sweets; a bag that had never been far from the wise old man. Abe placed it in Dumbledore's hand; even in death he would have his lemon drops.

"Thank you for coming to the funeral of my great friend, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Nancy Nettle said, her voice choked with tears. "Many people have told me that it was such a waste that such a great man never had a family. No one knows this more than I. At Hogwarts and beyond, though he was my best friend's older brother, he was also the object of my first love. And in many ways he loved me as well. But, he already had a family, and one that I belonged to, just not in the normal way. He loved each of his students as a child. He cared for each student as if they were his own. This school is what kept him fighting, your future," she said, waving an arm at the student body, "was the topmost concern he had. He died for that future. It's a heavy burden to live with." Harry nodded, knowing that this guilt would be with him for a long time. "But let us join together in our grief and in that way give each other comfort." She stepped forward and placed a stack of letters near the body. McGonagall moved forward once Nettle had returned to the group.

"Thank you for coming to the funeral of my friend and colleague, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said, dabbing at her eyes. "His knowledge and opinion have always impressed me. No matter the subject, it was impossible to stump him. He might not know the answer exactly, but he knew exactly who to ask or where to look. But it was his opinions that left me in awe. He truly believed what he preached, and lived it. A rare gift among those who hold so much sway over what others think. His love for improving himself was voracious. I'll miss our late night talks about the possibility of being a double-Animagus, Albus. I wish I could have eased your passing, old friend. Let us join together in our grief and in that way give each other comfort." After placing a small book near his body, she returned to the line and eyes turned toward Snape. Harry saw the grief in the man's stance, and knew Snape was fighting a break down as much as he was. After a few moments of silent thought, the Potions Master stepped forward.

"Thank you for coming to the funeral of my adoptive father, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he said, his voice cool, controlled, even a shade neutral. It might sound unfriendly and stiff to the crowd, but for Harry it spoke of the iron grip Snape needed to keep from crying in front of these strangers. Tears were for private, in both his and Snape's opinions. It was how they had been raised.

"At seventeen, I made the greatest and gravest mistake of my life. I lived with it for several years until I could no longer. I went to Professor Dumbledore and, not expecting to actually receive it, I asked for forgiveness and a second chance. He gave me both, though most would have handed me over to the Aurors, though I would have handed myself over to the Aurors. I paid penance as a spy, letting the Dark Lord punish me for the crimes he had commanded of me. Professor Dumbledore took care of me. Worried for me. Listened to my fears. Wished for my safety. Not big things, but when the name Father invokes images of evil and fear and pain, it is unexpected and strange and welcomed. His ability to forgive will be missed during the end of this war. Let us join together in our grief and in that way give each other comfort." The Potions Master stepped forward and placed a small snake figurine next to the body. Snape then joined the group and Harry hesitated a split second before heading towards the torch.

He stopped; Fawkes had burst into the most sorrowful and grief-stricken lament Harry had ever heard. Yet, it was a peace-inducing and a calming song. Fawkes might not have been able to heal Albus Dumbledore, but he was able to help those the great man had left behind. If Harry had doubted before, he now knew that the phoenix's song could once again touch his soul and heal it. If only Fawkes could have saved Dumbledore. If only phoenix's tears could cure this poison.

Harry waited; listening to the music, knowing this was a gift the old Headmaster would have truly appreciated. The song came to a slow end, and Fawkes left a long, gorgeous tail feather behind before taking off and settling on Professor Snape's shoulder. The man looked up at the bird with surprise and then understanding.

Harry pulled a burning torch from the ground and walked to the funeral pyre. He stood on the opposite side from the crowd and spoke. "We now return the magic that made you back to the world which gave you life. We will remember you until we join you on the other side. May your journey not take you farther from us then it must. Until we see you again." With that, Harry lit the pyre and stepped back to watch as the flames slowly consumed this important and irreplaceable man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry stood on top of the wall, staring out at the mountains as the sun set behind them. Dumbledore's pyre had burnt itself out several hours ago and Harry had collected the ashes. Aberforth, McGonagall, Snape, Nettle, Thia, Remus, Tonks, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, a few others, and Harry had climbed to the top of the Astronomy Tower and released them into the wind. It had been a solemn event, more so than the actual funeral. There was a party going on in the Great Hall now, celebrating the man's life. Harry had been in there until he had needed a breather.

Behind him, on the ground, was a burnt spot. The snow was also compressed and muddied. To Harry's left, the wall continued into the Lake. To his right, the wall slowly curved as it encircled the Forbidden Forest. Before him, the view opened up and Harry watched the reds and oranges turn to pinks and purples, highlighting the coming clouds.

Dumbledore was gone.

It didn't seem possible.

It didn't seem right.

How would they continue without him? Would the fight go out of the people, out of the school? Harry hoped not. All would be lost then. But Dumbledore was more than a war leader, more than a general. As eccentric and immature as Dumbledore could act, Harry new it was just that: acting. The wise old man knew that tension was high and life was difficult but he did his best to relieve the stress. That was what made Dumbledore so loved and revered. He honestly cared for those around him.

Harry stood on the wall, unaware of time passing. He listened as the night world woke up, small animals starting to scout around and larger animals starting to hunt. Fish jumped from the Lake, their splashes coming softly to Harry's ears. Sometimes a merperson would jump as well, the sounds of their splashes echoing in the night. An owl hooted loudly, startling some of the small animals. Harry drank in the peace and calm, finding, for the first time since Sunday, the equilibrium he so desperately needed. He sat down, resting his back against the parapet and closed his eyes to focus more closely on what he heard.

An hour or so later, voices woke him from his meditation. Unlike the familiar voices of the Aurors around Hogwarts, these were harsh and coming from the outside of Hogwarts Wall. Harry listened, focusing on the voices while silently cursing the clouds that had filled the sky since sunset.

"Stop, this is the place," a voice Harry recognized as Nott Senior's said. "Find a spot where you can't be seen from the wall, we're attacking at dawn." There was some grumbling, but the Death Eaters obeyed.

Harry listened as their footsteps carried them across the road. He carefully stood, hoping they wouldn't see him and jumped to the ground. His ankle twisted on a rock and he swore silently. A quick healing charm had everything in order and he took off in a quick run. Reaching the Auror Headquarters, he entered. Thankfully, Thia was in her office. She listened to him, not once interrupting him. A frown slowly grew, and once he was finished she called Volker into her office.

"Get Shacklebolt in here right away," she barked, taking her commander-stance and voice. "Tell him not to worry others by rushing, but to get his butt in here pronto. Then round up all off-duty Aurors, whether they're assigned here or not. Again, tell them to drift out here. No one leaves from now on. Get Hagrid to lock the gates.

"After finding Shacklebolt, tell everyone else we'll have a briefing in..." she checked her watch, "thirty minutes. Now, go!" Volker saluted her and hurried out. "If it didn't make so much sense, I wouldn't be so worried," she muttered, sitting down wearily.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking at his own watch. It was almost ten thirty.

"Voldemort definitely believes we're weak," she explained. "That our grief makes us vulnerable to attack. I bet he doesn't think the wards have been completely switched to Minerva. I'm glad we finished that last week and didn't have to deal with it during the preparations for the funeral."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Send Tonks and Morgen to scout the area," Thia replied after a few seconds. "Morgen changes into a sea bird, can't remember which, but a bird nonetheless, and one that can see in the dark. He'll fly around and Tonks will scout the ground. They make a good team."

"Sounds like it," Harry answered. The door opened and Shacklebolt entered.

"Commander," he said sharply, saluting her.

"Harry heard some Death Eaters talking beyond the wall about thirty-six minutes ago," she informed him. "How many parents took their children home for the holiday?"

"Well, I'd say about a hundred kids are gone," Shacklebolt replied. "They were checking out with the Heads of House, so I'm not sure exactly how many are gone."

"And visitors for the funeral?"

"Quite a few are still here," he answered. "Those I'd trust in a fight... probably thirty. Others that I wouldn't, I'd say about twenty-five."

"By trust, you mean are good fighters, right?" Thia asked to clarify.

"Yes, ma'am," Shacklebolt replied. "Sorry for the confusion."

"Are you going to let the older students fight?" Harry asked, interrupting them. The two Aurors exchanged a look. "You can't keep the ones over seventeen from fighting. This is our school. Please, let us fight."

"We'll think about it," Thia finally said. Harry frowned and crossed his arms. Tonks and Morgen were two of the first Aurors to make it back. Thia had them go out and scout without waiting for the others. Finally everyone was in the headquarters, Volker coming in right at the thirty-minute mark. Thia quickly went through the information. Afterwards, the Aurors questioned Harry on everything he knew, which, unfortunately, wasn't much.

"What's the plan?" an Auror from the back asked. Thia detailed her plan for them. Basically it consisted of nothing, nothing certain at least. Without knowing what Voldemort had planned and where he had his forces, they couldn't make anything more certain.

"When Tonks and Morgen get back, we'll iron everything out," she assured them.

"Shouldn't someone tell McGonagall? The students?" Harry asked, stating the obvious.

"Go, Potter, tell her that I'd love to talk with her and the teachers," Thia commanded him. "No students."

Harry stood, his hand clutched around his wand. "As you command," he said trying not to grind his teeth. What was the point of training if the adults wouldn't allow them to fight for what they believed in? He left the building and stalked up to the castle. The Great Hall was quiet; everyone was trying to figure out what was happening.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall called out. Harry wound his way through the crowd, Ron, Hermione, Blaise, and Ginny joining him as he went. McGonagall, Remus, Vance, and the other Heads of Houses were talking near the teachers table.

"Thia would like to talk with you and the teachers in the Auror Headquarters," Harry told her before she could even ask. "I'll take care of the students."

"Get them to their common rooms," McGonagall instructed, handing him her list of students that had left. Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout followed her lead. "And for the guests... why don't you..."

"We'll keep them entertained," Hermione told her. "Go talk with Thia." The teachers left for the Auror Headquarters, several of the adults following them. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Prefects, get the first through fifth years to their common rooms and then sixth and seventh year prefects come back here," Harry ordered, raising his voice so that everyone could hear him. Turning to his friends, he whispered, "After we get them to the common rooms, I'll explain." He turned to face the Great Hall and continued issuing commands, "I want the sixth and seventh year D.A. members to help the prefects and then return to the Great Hall. Fifth year prefects are in charge of the common rooms. Sixth and Seventh years stay here. Anyone who isn't a student can either stay or go to Auror Headquarters and speak with Headmistress McGonagall."

With that said, Harry started helping the Gryffindor prefects herd up the younger Gryffindors. Soon they were heading to the common room, Harry sprinting to his office for a complete student list. He hurried to each of the common rooms, handing a fifth year prefect the check-out list and the full list of students. Before leaving each common room, Harry instructed them to make sure everyone was in the common room who should be. After leaving the final common room, Harry headed back to the Great Hall.

Most of the adults were gone when Harry arrived back. Some Order members were hanging around, waiting to see what he was up to. This included all the Weasley brothers and Remus who was frowning slightly. Harry sized up the other guests and then motioned the Order members to come over. They answered his questions concerning those that he didn't know personally and assured Harry that they were to be trusted fully.

Harry moved forward out of the group of adults and motioned everyone to come closer so that he didn't have to shout. "Can everyone hear me?" There were many nods so Harry continued. "We're not positive, but it looks like Voldemort," Harry rolled his eyes at the shivers that went through the adults and non-D.A. members, "is planning to attack Hogwarts in the morning." Everyone started to ask questions, D.A. members asking when they would get to fight and many of the adults asking to leave.

"Quiet!" Harry shouted, restoring order with some difficulty. Fred and George whistled sharply, bringing the Hall to an instant silence. "Thank you. Now, we can't let any guests leave because the castle is surrounded and it wouldn't be safe to let you out or to open the gate at all. If you want to fight, I'd go down to the Auror headquarters and talk to Thia and Professor McGonagall.

"As for students," Harry continued, clutching his fist angrily, "Thia won't let you fight outside."

"Who cares what she says!" Dean shouted. "I'm seventeen and I'm going to fight the bloody bastards who killed my family. She's not stopping me!"

"Calm down, Dean, or I won't let you fight," Harry instructed. "A temper will not help you in a fight. We're going to patrol inside the castle in groups and make sure Voldemort doesn't have anything else up his sleeve. Any student that isn't in the D.A. and doesn't want to do this, can leave as well. However, I ask you to go to your common room and help the fifth year prefects keep the peace."

"Has Thia approved this?" Remus asked resignedly.

"Not really, but she's not changing my mind," Harry answered. "She needs all the help outside she can get. We need something to do if she's not going to let us help out there. It's a happy compromise. Any adults that want to help are very welcomed to it. Ron, you're in charge of setting the patrol schedule. Hermione, can I talk to you?" Talk broke out instantly, several adults leaving to talk to Thia or McGonagall. Remus left with them, and Harry knew he was going to go talk with his sister about the students patrolling.

"What do you think of a mass-evacuation to Hogsmeade and then from Hogsmeade to the Ministry or something like that?" Harry asked Hermione once they were apart from the others.

"The floo is disconnected for security reasons, right?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. Harry nodded. It was too dangerous to have it open when such a public event was taking place at Hogwarts. Thia and McGonagall hadn't wanted the Death Eaters to use the floo to get in. "Take them out through the secret passage, and then floo them from the twins' shop?"

"That's what I was thinking," Harry agreed. "But how long will that take and is it practical and is it safe?"

"Let me get the twins and then go talk with Thia about it," Hermione said, starting to walk away before she was even finished speaking.

"Althea, Ginny, you're needed in the Hospital wing," Tonks called out. Harry hurried over and looked out into the Entrance Hall. The Auror Morgen was bleeding profusely from what was now a stump of an arm and was lying on a stretcher that another Auror, one Harry didn't recognize, levitated with great care. Harry looked at the torn, not-so-white robes Tonks now wore. She had her left arm cradled in her right and blood stained her face and robes. It was a sharp contrast to both the other Aurors, one who was much dirtier and bloodied and the other who was still in the crisp robes of the funeral.

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly as the two healers hurried with Morgen and the unidentified Auror up to the Infirmary.

"A Death Eater got his wing," Tonks said softly. "We had to battle our way out. And if I don't hurry up, Remus will find me here chatting and he'll have my head. Talk to you later." She hurried up after the others, limping slightly on her right leg. Hermione shook her head.

"See you later, Harry," Hermione said grimly and then changed into a large silvery-grey parrot. Flying back through the Great Hall and out one of the windows the owls used, she caused quite a stir from below.

"Hermione's a parrot?" Ron asked, stunned, once Harry reached the table Ron was using to write his ideas down. Harry nodded. "Since when?"

"Not sure," Harry answered. "Dumbledore let it slip the week before our game and it just kind of got pushed to the back of my mind." Ron nodded as though the fact that his girlfriend could turn herself into a parrot was to be expected and then turned back to his plans.

The night passed slowly, half the students patrolling and the rest sleeping. An hour before dawn, the groups switched. Harry was one of those who had slept, and he was now pacing in the Great Hall. Dawn was slowly approaching, and he had found out that Hermione had gone out scouting just a little before he had woken up. Ron was pacing just as quickly, his face lined with worry.

First through third years had been evacuated from Hogwarts to the Ministry via Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. McGonagall hadn't thought there would be enough time to get everyone else out and it had turned out to be true. George and Fred had only arrived back ten or so minutes ago. A Grey Parrot flew in through the window, landing effortlessly on the ground. Some of the feathers were ruffled, but otherwise just fine.

"Harry?" Hermione called once she had changed back. Her hair was frizzed out and her robes seemed dirty, but that was it.

"Over here," Harry called back. She hurried over and hugged Ron when she got there.

"I'm fine, Ron, honestly. But Harry, Thia wants you to go down to the Headquarters now," she finished saying before sitting down exhausted. Food appeared as Harry left, now hurrying toward the Lake.

The Auror Headquarters was a simple building built where the Lake and the cliff Hogwarts was built upon meet. The white-washed planks glowed eerily in the pre-dawn light. Only three floors, the barracks were on top, offices on the bottom, and a recreational room in between. One room on the ground floor was a large meeting room, and this was where Thia was, planning the defense of Hogwarts.

"...it's completely sealed off," George was reporting. "We even set some booby-traps up along the tunnel."

"You sealed the Honeydukes entrance as well?" Thia asked.

"Of course," Fred answered. "Booby-trapped that as well."

"And if we need to use it as a retreat?" Harry asked from the door.

"Go up to Hogwarts and explain to your brother exactly what you did," Thia commanded. "In case of an evacuation and retreat, Ron is in charge of leading the first group out and dismantling it all. Explain to Seamus and Dean as well, they can help him and split off at Honeydukes', we can swarm out both exits that way."

"Aye, Aye, captain," Fred said, saluting her. Thia just stared at him, all joking gone. "Or not," he said, all the air going out of him. George dragged him out whispering to him so quickly that Harry couldn't pick up what they were saying as they passed.

"Harry, come here," Thia commanded, entering her office through a side door. Harry followed her in and shut the door. "Sit," she said, pointing at the chair in front of her desk. "I want you to swear to me that you will not do anything rash or similar to last spring." Harry started to complain, but she held her hand up to stop it. "Swear, Harry."

"Why?"

"Do you realize how much wind you took out of the sail by just leaving with Voldemort last spring?" she asked. "There were whispers that you had turned Dark, others thought you were dead and that we were all doomed. The whole of Wizarding Britain was worried about you. If you get captured, die, or even get seriously injured, I'm not sure what England will do. She's on shaky ground as it is with Dumbledore's death."

"So you want me to be the good little boy and stay safe and sound in the castle?" he asked, his temper fraying a tad bit.

"No," she said simply shaking her head. "I'm going to put you with Shacklebolt and Volker. You three are going to be a mobile unit. Shacklebolt is in command and you're at the bottom. Shack, Volk, get in here!" she yelled and the door opened immediately.

"Your task is to help where help is needed," she instructed them. "Shack, you know how this works. If need be, you escort people up and away from the fray. You two," she said, looking at the adults, "keep Harry alive and on school grounds. Harry, I need you to swear."

"I swear I won't do anything overly rash," he said. "Thanks for the explanation."

"No problem," she said with a warm smile. "These two will fill you in on everything. Jelly!" A young Auror Harry had met once or twice entered. "Go inform Blaise that he's in charge of the students and Ron as his second. I want Hermione to sleep at least til noon, at which point she takes over and those two fall in order." Martha nodded and left, jogging up the slope to the school.

The three men left, entering Shacklebolt's office. They spent the rest of the hour discussing plans and telling Harry everything they knew. Reconnaissance put almost three or four hundred Dark wizards and creatures out there surrounding the school. No wonder Hermione had looked frazzled. This was going to be a horrid morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When had it gone wrong? Everyone had been in place on time. The enemy hadn't known they were here, waiting. Yet, right before dawn the enemy had marched forward and ascended the wall. That's when the long battle had started and so far they had made no progress. If things didn't turn around soon, he would be forced to call a retreat and he did not want to do that. Months of planning and waiting would be wasted if they left without a victory. Hogwarts was not going to beat him yet again!

"Bella!" Voldemort roared, calling to the witch off to his left. "How is it going to the west?" She hurried over, bowing low to the ground. Voldemort frowned; there was no time for such frivolities. "Quick!"

"Well," Bella started, hesitating. He sighed; this was going to be bad news. "The Aurors took Nott into custody. Potter tricked him somehow and he fell for it. I was too far away to see what exactly happened."

"Damn!" Voldemort swore, sending a Reductor curse at the Hogsmeade station behind him. Looking north at the castle standing proud on top of the cliff, Voldemort wondered if it was time to call it quits. Theodore was his best Potions Master, more willing than Severus Snape had ever been, though not as talented. Several plans would now have to be put on hold until a new Potions Master could be recruited or Theodore rescued. The past year had been hard on his cause. Six of his top ten most faithful servants had either turned spy, died, or been captured. Now another one and others were being captured as he thought.

"Has Potter done anything rash?" he asked the witch.

"I haven't seen him that often," she answered. "He and two Aurors keep moving around, I think they're like reinforcements or something."

Voldemort nodded, staring off to his left. The Lake stretched out, and beyond that, the wall continued around. Thinking he saw the black-haired boy... no, man (he had to admit Potter had grown up now), Voldemort turned to look to his right. A single giant and a group of centaurs had routed his giants before noon. Huge chunks of forest were missing where that fight had occurred. Most of the vampires he had brought where dust, again because of the centaurs. Huge acromantulas had attacked his various Dark creatures and had managed to kill most of them. He wished he had pursued Hagrid's pet spider all those long years ago. Without those acromantulas, more of his vampires would be alive and the tide would be different. It would not be so dire.

The wards around Hogwarts were still up and strong, keeping the wizarding forces from meeting directly. There was no need for a wall as long as those wards stayed up. None of his ward breakers were talented enough to take these advanced and ancient wards down. He had not counted on the fact that the wards would be complete. He had expected them to be weak and tied to a dead man. Obviously they were not.

"Avery!" he shouted, calling the wizard in charge of the east side to him.

"My Lord," Avery said, going to his knees and crawling forward to kiss Voldemort's hems. He kicked out at his servant; this was not the time for that!

"Get up, fool, and report!" He held himself back from using the Cruciatus on the man. There was no time for that now. It would have to wait until later.

"We're losing men," Avery finally answered. "I'm down to about a hundred men and a fifty animals. We're stretched too thin." Another Reductor Curse blew up the remains of the Hogsmeade Station. Bella and Avery would not relish the punishment he had planned for this failure of theirs.

A trident went whizzing past Voldemort's head. He turned, and saw a small army of the blasted merfolk above the surface of the Lake. Their war cries caused the nearest wizards and witches to cover their ears and back away. Unlike the Aurors and those helping them, the merfolk, like the centaurs, had absolutely no qualms about killing his Death Eaters. Another trident struck, sinking deeply into his shoulder, causing him to fall back.

With a simple thought he apparated to his headquarters and pulled the trident out. How had this gone so bad?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus watched as a merfolk's trident pierced the Dark Lord's shoulder. He watched him disapparate away like the coward he was, leaving his second-in-commands to figure out what to do. Making his way to the Lake, Snape jumped to the shore on the outside of Hogwarts Wall. Creeping around towards Bellatrix, Snape made sure no one could see him.

"Lestrange!" he shouted, making the witch turn around, raising her wand to fight. Avery was standing next to her, and he raised his wand as well.

"You traitor!" Bellatrix screeched. "Crucio!"

Snape stepped out of the way of the curse, anticipating her favorite spell. "Come on, Bellatrix, be a bit more creative. Impedimenta!" The spell hit Avery, slowing the man's movements. "Petrificus Totalus!" Avery toppled over, his arms and legs straight and stiff. "Just you and me, Lestrange."

"You still sore about your little brats?" she asked, her voice mocking and spiteful. "You should have heard them scream, traitor. It was the sweetest music to my ears." Severus clutched his wand tightly, not rising to the bait. "Ardent!"

He took the spell, not letting the feelings overwhelm him. A silent Ignifuge ended the curse. Keeping Bellatrix in his eyesight, Severus noticed that the Aurors had followed over the wall and were rounding up the leaderless Death Eaters. All he had to do was keep Bellatrix occupied for a few more minutes and he'd have some help. Hopefully, he'd be the one to catch this disgusting example of witchdom.

"Tarantallegra!" he cast, causing Bellatrix leg's to start dancing wildly.

"Finite Incantatem!" she shouted, stopping immediately. "You devious little mudblood loving traitor! DIE! Avada Kedavra!"

"Accio Stone! Contego!" A huge boulder that lay between them zoomed up, exploding as the Killing Curse hit it. The shards ran into the shield around him. Bellatrix cried out as the jagged stones cut into her skin.

"Of course, watching that bitch of yours offer up the littlest brat to save her own skin, that was the greatest entertainment that night," Bellatrix shouted, snapping her wrist to get the blood and rock off. "It didn't do much good, Lucius ended up killing her, but that was the first time I've ever tortured an infant. Got me hooked on it. Hearing their screams of fear and distress, it's oddly invigorating!"

"Dexmantrunco!" Severus shouted, surprising himself with the force that left his wand. Bellatrix screamed as the spell hit her and mutilated her wand arm for good.

"Bastard!" she shouted. She stooped and picked up her wand in her left arm. "Conterossis!" Snape felt the spell hit his left leg and fell as it collapsed beneath him.

"Stupefy!" Snape cried out, desperately fighting with the blackness that was settling over him. The spell went wide and Bellatrix disapparated away. "Damn," he said weakly.

"Severus!" he heard a vaguely familiar voice call out. Strong hands took his face, opening his eyes. It was Potter. "You're a bloody idiot!" Harry set his head down, and started to heal the wounds as best he could. "Stupid Slytherin!"

Knowing that he was in good hands, Severus let the blackness claim him.

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Author's Notes:

Well, I was strong and mean and killed Dumbledore off. I've had a few reviewers beg me not to kill him off again, and I'm very sorry, but Dumbledore's death has been part of the plans for LoI and RotP since the start, I just didn't know how. About the time I was "killing off" the twins in LoI, someone reviewed saying he/she knew I wasn't going to kill them off because of all the belly-aching and drawn out angst surrounding them... Whoever this unknown reviewer was (and i've spent an hour or two looking for the name, but i can't find it), I must thank him for the inspiration. All the belly-aching and angst has happened and Dumbledore is dead. Someone else asked me if I was only killing Dumbledore off because of JKR, and like I said before, I've had Dumbledore's death on my to do list since the start of LoI, about six months before HBP came out. About all I'm borrowing from HBP is a few WWW products and a few spells, but that's it. It was Dumbledore's time to go, and so he went... You have no idea how hard writing this chapter was, Dumbledore is a cornerstone character, and now I have to get used to him not being here... again... Want to thank Celest and Terry for holding my hand as I wrote the funeral scene, beta's are an amazing gift and support group! Also want to thank Celest for encouraging me to write the flashback scenes... they do add quite a bit to the story and they wouldn't have made it without your encouragement and nagging!

Now, Hermione's animagus form is the African Grey Parrot, arguably the most intelligent parrot. Terry, who found this bird species, thought it was quite appropriate and I had to agree. Do take a look at the pics on the web, for this is a beautiful bird, even if it is primarily gray! More details 'bout Hermione's animagus training and form will be forth-coming, though I will take any and all suggestions for a nick-name for the bird!

As you have read, Voldie's BIG PLANS have come to be but failed... even the best laid plans can go wrong... at least he got Dumbledore! You guys got lucky... there used to be a cliffy at the end of this chapter, but because I added the flashbacks, I had to move the last scene of this chapter to the start of chapter 24, and so, you won't get to suffer the cliffy! aren't you lucky!

Want to thank everyone who reviewed chapter 22: mouchardchercheur, johnapple, Broadsword, A.H.Wonderland, darkcelestial, Unknown777, voceconbrio, weasley-hev, reenee, Pheonix Run, UTChick, Arachnia Payton, The Wizard Of Joz, and RandellG! I know many of you wanted me to be strong, and I hope you're happy! As for the rest of you, I hope those catapults are defective...

Beg you all to reveiw and let me know how you liked or disliked this chapter! Honestly, I'd love to hear a flame if you have one! Just say hi, if nothing else!

Chapter 24: Hope. Voldemort has one more trick up his sleeve, and Blaise is the one to figure it out first. Harry has an interesting and enlightening conversation with our favorite Dark Lord and comes away from it with what can only be discribed as Hope. Once he tells everyone else, they feel that same feeling. Maybe Dumbledore's death isn't the end of the war after all! Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny go for a run, but Harry and Ginny "sneak off" for a talk and a momentous moment to round off the chapter.

Let's see... is that all... I do believe it is... Just wanted to thank the Stalkers for all their reviews and all their convos... You guys are great to "hang out" with! Again, thanks to Terry and Celest for all their hard work! This fic wouldn't be nearly as good without you both! Um, and that's that!

Until next time,
Devotedly yours,
Ioci the Contrite (I really am!) and the Nefarious (Please forgive me!)