Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Harry Potter Lord Voldemort
Genres:
Action Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 12/26/2003
Updated: 08/25/2004
Words: 314,830
Chapters: 31
Hits: 230,812

Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

joe6991

Story Summary:
A thousand-year-old oath stands to be fulfilled. The war between Good and Evil has been raging on for a millennium. It has a chance to end, but has the hero of the side of good lost the will to live…``Harry Potter returns to the Dursleys care for the summer, but he finds the loss of Sirius hard to bear. He blames himself for his death. Voldemort doesn’t let him rest though, and soon Harry is flung back into his world. The war escalates, and more people die or join Voldemort. The fear of the Dark Lord reaches beyond the wizarding world and into the Muggle one. Both worlds will collide, as Harry will have to make the ultimate choice between what is right and what is easy. For in this war, some things are more important than life or death…

Chapter 28

Chapter Summary:
An undeniable fact for Harry is that the war has now come to his very doorstep. Voldemort's numbers grow with Dark wizards from across the globe, as the Army of Light base themselves on the road into Hogsmeade. Once the events that will lead to the end have been set in motion, nothing can stop the fight. Harry prepares as best anyone can, and prays to see the dawn.
Posted:
07/08/2004
Hits:
6,343
Author's Note:
Here's the next chapter people. Hope you enjoy this one. This is a series of events that will result in an uncertain outcome. I thought it worked rather well. Please read and review. A big ups to my betas for this one.


HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 28 - It Will All Be Over Soon

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly
find out how far one can go.

~~T.S. Elliot

Several feet down the hall, hidden in the darkness, stood a tall blonde Slytherin. Harry's shadow from the floor below, the source of the mysterious footsteps. He watched Potter hold Weasley as she cried slightly, then he watched the two of them stand. Potter kissed her deeply before they walked away and out of sight.

The smirk on Draco Malfoy's face was one of glee. This is interesting he thought to himself. This is very interesting... Barely making a sound, Malfoy turned and headed in the direction of the owlery. Finally he had some information, some information that could make him worthy of the Dark Mark.

****

Twenty Days Later,

20 March 1997

Harry surveyed the strewn landscape of the vast world around him. A lot had happened in the last two weeks, too much. He looked out upon the Forbidden Forest and past that to Hogsmeade. Standing atop of the Astronomy tower, Harry watched the destruction unfold.

How did it come to this? he wondered briefly, as hundreds of Aurors poured out of the recently constructed Army Headquarters, rushing to meet their fate. Rushing to face their deaths, to stare their mortality in the eye and have it claim them. What unstoppable chain of events was put into motion to bring Harry to this one point in time, where the fate of the free world rested on an unparalleled victory? He had come a long way in six years.

Explosions and great balls of blue fire shot up from the village under siege, Hogsmeade. Only recently rebuilt, it was now the stage for the fiercest battle fought since the Wizard involvement in the Muggle World War.

A fortnight was all it had taken.

Both sides, Light and Dark, had been arming themselves rapidly for two weeks and now a major battle on a global scale would decide who would take the advantage in this war. Harry looked down to Hagrid's cabin and saw the half-giant himself rushing some third years up to the castle.

The sky was tanned a deep orange as the sun began to slowly set behind the castle. Massive streaks of cloud tore across the sky and storm clouds in the distance threatened rain. Nature itself was preparing for death. After a final look at Hogsmeade, Harry felt an all too familiar twinge of pain in his scar. It had now truly begun. Voldemort was close.

Bugger, Harry sighed to himself. It's show time...

Across the grounds and down on the well trodden road that connected the school to the village, Harry saw hundreds of Dementors appear out of the darkness under the eaves of the forest. The Army of Light, hardened Aurors, did not falter. Dozens of Patroni appeared like a wave of silver, and began to beat back the creatures of evil. Another twinge of pain in his scar and this time Harry was worried. Something had happened, something more important to him than the outcome of this battle. Harry knew the Death Eaters were in Hogsmeade, but was Voldemort himself there? He could not be sure.

"Oh well...." he whispered regretfully. "It has come to this...."

As darkness began to fall, Harry thought briefly back to the events that had brought him here, to the edge of war. The events of the last two weeks, when he looked back upon it, could not have prevented the coming struggle. Nothing could have....

****

Two Weeks Earlier

6 March 1997

Harry tossed and turned in his bed, dreams and nightmares of circles of light haunting his mind. The dream had been a constant for months now. A glowing circle that radiated power even in his dreams. Firenze had warned him against it, to stay away from it. He had said death followed it, but it followed Harry as well.

That morning Harry once again fell into his routine. He was out the castle by five o'clock, exercising with Siamus and Dermas. After that he had some brief sword training with Dermas, before heading up to the Great Hall for breakfast. The world was still holding its breath before the big plunge. Report after report of Dark wizards flocking to Voldemort filled the war section of the Daily Prophet, along with more morale raising news such as the construction of the Army of Light Headquarters.

Over the past six days, magical contractors had worked on building and enforcing the Auror base. They had first had to clear a large portion of the forest, the side closer to Hogsmeade, and then it was all down to some clever spell work. It had taken three solid days of magic and Harry saw some of it in the early mornings as reds and blues lit up the sky.

One hundred and sixty Aurors had already taken up station there. They were British Aurors and many were veterans of the First Dark War. It had been on the fifth of the month that Aurors from France began to arrive in squads of twenty. As of the morning of the 6th, three hundred and forty Aurors called the Headquarters home.

Hermione's parents had also finally returned to their lives, after spending two months at the castle. Just as Harry had promised, he had become their Secret Keeper. Voldemort could not find them at their practice in Abingdon. Hermione had thanked Harry many times and had broken down in tears when her parents had finally flooed from Dumbledore's office. Hermione had wanted to go as well, but it was deemed too dangerous, as she was not protected by the charm.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger had made her promise to write everyday and to stay out of the war as much as possible. They had also said goodbye to Harry and Ron, and had wished Harry the best of luck no matter what happened in the future. It was a teary farewell for Hermione, but Harry and Ron remained stoic.

Harry finished his breakfast and for a few minutes chatted happily with his friends. Hermione and Ron told him that Dumbledore had cancelled all Hogsmeade weekends until further notice and that the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had also been cancelled. His reasoning was that it was simply too dangerous to have large numbers of students outside the safety of the castle. He had made these announcements at dinner last night, but Harry had missed them due to some extra training.

For the three and a half hours before lunch, Harry learned more curses and shield charms with Thomas Fright. He now had a range of shields at his disposal, and had learned to control the one his pure magic put up subconsciously. Shields of such strength that they could deflect multiple spells and defend against non-magical means of attack, such as a shot from a bow.

Lunch was a short affair, after which he had Magical Tuning, followed by Charms and Healing, and finally Pure Magic training. He was progressing excellently in Charms and Healing, as he could now successfully charm a small statue to defend him against magical attack, namely spells that couldn't be blocked with a shield, such as the Killing Curse.

He stumbled into the common room at eight o'clock, after a quick visit to the kitchens, and fell into his favourite armchair. Ron and Hermione were seated together in another opposite him, embraced as they read from the same book. Hermione took one look at Harry and immediately her face filled with concern.

"You look awful, Harry," she said nervously. "Have you had a...." she lowered her voice considerably. "vision?"

Ron chuckled. "I think he's just tired. Am I right, Harry?"

"Knackered..." Harry mumbled, pressing his cold hand against his scorching forehead. His scar was always hot these days, not always painful, but definitely hot.

"We've not had much chance to talk lately," Hermione said sadly, looking into the roaring fire. "Only at breakfast and lunch really...."

"Yeah..." agreed Ron. "What have you been up to, Harry? How's your training coming along."

Harry thought back through the previous weeks and tried to remember the last real conversation he had with his friends. He supposed it was the day he first kissed Ginny up on top of the tower, when he had shown them his Animagus transfiguration in the Room of Requirement. "Training's coming along fine," he said after a moments thought. "I'll teach some of the more useful curses to the DA."

"Have you heard from Marcus?" asked Ron as a bunch of fifth year girls came down the stairs that led to their dorms, Ginny among them.

Harry watched her for a moment and they both exchanged a small smile that wasn't lost on Hermione. "No..." Harry said, drawing his attention back to his best friends. "But I don't expect to until about the fifteenth."

"Have you heard anything from Dumbledore about.... anything?" asked Hermione, staring at him pointedly.

Harry shrugged, throwing a spare piece of parchment from his pocket into the fire. "Nothing that isn't in the papers," he said. "And the Occlumency techniques Minra's teaching me are keeping Voldemort out of my head."

"So they're still wondering if You-Know-Who will attack Hogwarts?" Ron said, a nervous edge to his voice.

Harry sighed. "It's not a question of if. It's a question of when...."

Harry slept sparingly that night. Images of the destruction caused by Voldemort did not haunt his dreams, thanks to his skills in Occlumency. It was not perfect but it worked. His dreams were still plagued by a circle of light though and, try as he might, he couldn't rid himself of them.

****

8 March 1997

The Lost Manor House of Salazar Slytherin

Peter Pettigrew approached the blood red door nervously. He had been summoned by his Master only once in the past two months, so he knew now that he was either needed for a task or he was being punished for something inconceivable. Wormtail thought hard, but could not think of one thing he had done that would result in punishment. So he was needed for a task.

He shuddered at that thought. Why me? he wondered. It was well known that the ranks of the Death Eaters numbered over five hundred now, with all the foreign Dark wizards that were answering Voldemort's call. Why call Wormtail, when so many others were so desperate to prove their worth.

Suppressing another shudder, Wormtail rapped on the oak door three times with his silver hand. A second later the door opened of its own volition, and a blast of cold air rushed out to meet Wormtail, complete with the rattling sound that could be vaguely recognised as a sucking breath.

"Enter, Wormtail...." hissed a cold, merciless voice from within the darkness of the room.

As bravely as he could, Peter took four nervous steps into the darkness. The door closed ominously behind him without making a sound, and a single solitary torch sprang to life eight feet away. Its light paled against the amount of pure evil that festered within this room. The blast of cold air hit Peter again, and it was at that moment he knew there were creatures in here besides himself and his Master.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail?" that same voice hissed again.

Wormtail jumped and looked towards the pale light half a dozen feet away. He could just make out two merciless red eyes piercing through him beneath it. His Master was seated beneath the light. Remembering his place, Wormtail fell to the floor and bowed low. The sucking sound increased dramatically as more torches flared to life.

Wormtail whimpered slightly, as half a dozen Dementors were revealed to him. Three stood either side of Voldemort and seemed to keep a fair distance from him. The cold hit him again and he began to hear the worst memories of his life. He remembered the day he had blown up the Muggle street, sentencing Sirius to over a decade in Azkaban. He remembered the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack and he remembered his Master's rebirth.

A long, cold silence fell as Wormtail stared at the hem of Voldemort's robes, not daring to make eye contact unless asked. He could see and hear the Dementors though, and was always surprised at their behaviour towards Voldemort. Throughout his entire life he had feared Dementors, as all magical folk did, but the Dementors themselves seemed afraid of Voldemort.

They never approached him unless asked, and their powers did not affect him. Peter could not begin to imagine what type of power Voldemort held if he could inspire fear into a Dementor.

Taking a deep breath, Peter spoke. "You summoned me, my Lord?"

"Indeed, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice a low whisper that was as cold as the Dementors themselves. "An opportunity has presented itself...."

Wormtail raised his head slightly. "Y-Yes, my Lord. I live to serve you..."

Voldemort smiled. "I know you do, Wormtail...." Another silence, this one accompanied by a particular bad memory. Wormtail remembered the pain from cutting off his own hand. "Now, as I said. We have a singular opportunity. One of my sources has informed me that Mr. Potter may not be as untouchable as he appears."

Wormtail inwardly sighed. "Really, my Lord...." he said with as much courage as he could muster. It was really cold.

"Lucius' son has discovered that Potter's weakness may be his heart. He has become involved with Ginevra Weasley. The young girl who was unfortunate enough to run into my old school diary..."

"I remember," Wormtail stammered. "My Lord," he added quickly, almost forgetting his place.

"The plans for the Vernal Equinox need to be changed..." Voldemort hissed. "We will still use the ancient magic discovered at Stonehenge, but we will use it against Potter... against his heart."

Wormtail nodded but, with every fibre of courage he possessed, voiced his concerns. "But, my Lord," he began. "We have no idea how the time and space magic will react once summoned... it may help Potter."

Voldemort laughed. "You have no idea how the magic will work, Wormtail. I have a few theories...."

Not wanting to push his luck any further, Wormtail agreed. "What task do you require of me, my Lord?"

The room was really cold now. Several of the torches had already flickered and died as the Dementors fed off of Wormtail. "Master Malfoy has proven his usefulness, as you once did," Voldemort began. "You will aid him in his first task."

"What will that be, my Lord?" he questioned, but regretted it an instant later when he saw the flash of annoyance pass across Voldemort's face.

Voldemort did not answer for a long moment, his eyes piercing into Peter and then the Dementors in turn. The Dementors let out a cry as Voldemort looked at them, and Peter shuddered. "You will crush Potter's heart..." Voldemort answered cryptically, sadistically.

****

10 March 1997

The Army of Light Headquarters

Kingsley Shacklebolt surveyed the empty hall in front of him. He was standing on a balcony above a gigantic, empty hall that was easily twice the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was the rally point for the Army of Light. This was where all eight hundred or so Aurors would assemble in times of need.

Right now all the Aurors at Headquarters were asleep in the dormitories three hundred feet away. All except Tonks, who would now be making her way up to the castle for the Order meeting. Kingsley sighed and wondered briefly how he had made it here. He was the commander of all the Aurors at this base. He was in control of eight hundred fully trained Aurors, who had come from half a dozen Ministries.

Seeing as the base was officially under United Kingdom control, Minister Weasley had seen to it that Kingsley was in a position of power, enabling, the Order to stay informed of how the base was run. Under him served lieutenants appointed by the Aurors from every Ministry that was represented there. But overall he only answered to Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore.

It was also his job to devise battle tactics based on the previous attacks by Voldemort. Kingsley would decide who to send and where. The United Kingdom was being overrun by Dark wizards, hundreds of them having been reported missing throughout the world, and it didn't require too much thought to realise to whom they had flocked.

His job was not easy. His choices would probably get good men killed, but they were the best he could make. There could be no victory without sacrifice. Kingsley had learned long ago that those who do not fight can still be cut down. That is why he had become an Auror.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Kingsley looked down again at the empty hall. Nothing but darkness and silence met his eyes His watch told him it was ten o'clock. The Order meeting began in half an hour. It was time to go. With a sigh he Disapparated to the castle gates, thinking all along about the seventy-five Aurors arriving from Canada tomorrow. They were mostly trained in defence so they would be best used in guarding the base or maybe Hogwarts.

I'll decide their fates later he thought, passing through the wards of the castle.

****

11 March 1997

The Hogwarts Staff Room

Minerva McGonagall walked with a slight limp into the Staff Room. Ever since that stunner attack last year she hadn't been her best, and likely never would be again. She kept it well hidden of course, but her knee would probably trouble her for the rest of her life, however long that would be.

No one ever saw her limp, ever saw her wince from time to time, but that was how she preferred it. Albus knew of course, but there was nothing that man didn't know. Not much anyway.

With a heavy sigh she sat down in the one armchair by the fire she had grown accustomed to using over the years. After unfolding the Daily Prophet she conjured some tea and relaxed after a long day of teaching. While perusing the war section, as most did these days, Minerva found her mind slipping to her Gryffindors.

They were rash, brave and loyal to a fault. She couldn't name a bad one amongst the current bunch. Several had made mistakes in the past that had cost others dearly, too dearly, but the majority had always chosen the Light. Thinking back through the years, McGonagall remembered the better of her students, the ones who went on to change the world for the good, and those who never had the chance to. James and Lily to name two.

Minerva put the Prophet aside and removed her reading glasses. Looking into the fire, her eyes glazed over with unshed tears as she remembered the trouble James Potter used to get in to, usually with Sirius Black in tow. You never saw one without the other. Both are dead now she thought sadly, not for the first time.

Forcing herself to remember the better times, Minerva silently laughed as she remembered the time James had stuck one thousand photos of Sirius sleeping with a Muggle doll on every seat in the Great Hall. Sirius had come in late to breakfast and it had taken him roughly five seconds to realise what was going on, but James had used those five seconds well, escaping through the anteroom and out onto the grounds. Yes, always in trouble....

Thinking of James made McGonagall think of Harry. A shadow passed over her face as she thought of all the hardship that young man had faced. He was just like his father, always getting into trouble. Harry's trouble was a lot more serious though, and it sometimes shook the foundations of magic itself. He was gifted, touched by a higher power, that much was clear. He would change the world one day. Whether he lives or dies he will decide the fate of the magical community, and most likely the Muggle world as well.

"Is everything alright, Minerva?" asked a familiar voice.

McGonagall jumped slightly in her chair. "Hmm... Oh. Yes, yes everything is fine, Severus," she managed, replacing her strict, serious exterior. "Just thinking about young Harry."

A sneer appeared on Snape's face as he sat opposite his once Transfiguration teacher. Putting his arms inside his robes, Snape spoke. "That boy is more trouble than he's worth. Just like his father..."

McGonagall bristled, feeling the urge to defend her Gryffindor. "You know as well as I do our hope lies with him."

"That is what worries me, Minerva," he replied predictably.

McGonagall sighed. "Come now, Severus. Harry is not James. He is a lot more selfless."

"A lot more foolish," Snape grumbled. "His selflessness will be his undoing."

Placing the sternest expression she could muster on her face, Minerva spoke again, looking directly into Snape's eyes. "His selflessness is highly admirable. It has kept him alive this far, who's to say it won't see him through."

Snape didn't let McGonagall's expression bother him. After spending years lying under the gaze of Voldemort, she could not intimidate him. "Just an observation...." he muttered while pouring himself a glass of Firewhiskey from the liquor cabinet beside his chair.

"You give him too little credit, Severus," Minerva said matter of factly. "He has saved us all more than once."

"Not all of us," Snape whispered, sipping his drink. "His mongrel godfather fell because of him."

McGonagall almost gasped in shock. Sirius Black was.... "Do not speak ill of the dead, Severus," she said dangerously.

"I apologise," he said none too sincerely, draining his glass. A moment of silence followed that was soon broken as Snape dropped his glass, which shattered on the hearth. Biting back a curse, Snape grasped his left forearm. Minerva remained silent through this, knowing Severus did not want pity or help.

A few minutes passed and finally Snape released his arm. With a quick look to McGonagall he nodded and then stood. "I must go," he whispered.

****

13 March 1997

The International Confederation

"Our intelligence indicates that He Who Must Not Be Named has amassed an army of over six hundred, with more joining him everyday," shouted the Ambassador of Luxembourg angrily. "Britain's inability to protect itself has caused this simple conflict to grow into a war involving the entire world."

Shouts of agreement and denial ran out throughout the hall as those who agreed with the Luxembourg ambassador and those who didn't argued. Albus Dumbledore remained seated as this unfolded, too old to argue with the narrow-minded youth. He knew he would have to eventually, but for now let them have their arguments. The arguments only masked the real problem for one brief moment.

After ten minutes and much more bickering Dumbledore finally rose from his seat, a look on his face that brought the notice of all in the room and they fell quiet. Dumbledore was an experienced orator. He knew how to sway crowds to his way of thinking. The decades had taught him the subtle art of persuasion.

Clearing his throat, Albus spoke. "Britain stood on her own for as long as she could. We were willing to stand longer, but those among you who saw Voldemort for the threat that he is helped us, and for that we thank you." His eyes swept over the mass of people assembled here, a few familiar faces jumped out to meet him and he nodded to those. "Without help, I'm sorry to say, the British Ministry may have fallen. And then any of you would have been next," Dumbledore said deeply, no twinkle in his eyes. "Not to unite when we did would have been the gravest mistake our world could have made."

Most likely to save face, the Luxembourg ambassador spoke up again. "There is no proof You-Know-Who cannot be defeated by a determined attack. If you had struck earlier, the problem would not exist."

Dumbledore frowned, showing his disapproval. "Tell me, Mr. Ambassador, how much power do you believe one must possess to destroy the wards around a magical school? How much power would have been needed to destroy Beauxbatons academy?"

The ambassador stuttered but quickly defended himself. "A determined siege could destroy any wards on this earth."

Dumbledore sighed. "But this was not a siege. Voldemort broke those wards within hours. A feat even I would struggle to match," he said calmly as every voice in the room fell silent. It was a mark of respect to Dumbledore. who was widely known as the most powerful wizard in existence. Sighing again, Dumbledore continued. "None of you have to help us further," he said. "Those brave enough to fight will do so alone, but this will not be forgotten."

"YOU THREAT-" began the Luxembourg ambassador, but was stopped by his associates quickly.

Dumbledore stood tall, and held the moment until he had the attention of the entire congregation. "We are about to enter the darkest stage of this war. Know that soon, hundreds will die. It is unavoidable," he began sadly, but strongly. "The most decisive battle in this war will be fought within weeks, maybe even days.... Britain may fall." The silence in the room was now absolute, not a whisper was heard as Dumbledore spoke one final time. "Remember your choices here today," he said, "for they decide our future."

****

15 March 1997

Defence Association Meeting, The Room of Requirement

"I owled Gringotts with all the details," Harry said. "The transfer went through three days ago."

"So it did, Mr. Potter," agreed Marcus Elendil. "I want to thank you for your business again. This is the largest order I've ever had to fill."

Harry nodded and sat back into a comfortable purple armchair. He looked over the one hundred brown paper packages that Marcus had just enlarged from within his trunk, sitting five to a stack on several tables against the back wall. "That's excellent," he replied, turning to look at Marcus. "The meeting doesn't start for an hour, but you're welcome to stay if you like. I'm sure they'd want to thank you."

Marcus laughed slightly. "No thanks," he began. "Dumbledore wants a word with me," he said as he pulled out a pocket watch. "And if I don't get going I'm going to be late," he ended with another small laugh.

Harry stood and extended his right hand to Marcus, who shook it promptly. "See you later then," he said, and then turned away towards the fire as Marcus exited the room.

Staring into the flames, Harry thought back to all the training he had been doing the past week. It had definitely not been easy. His teachers had seen fit to push him particularly hard over the last seven days. None more so than Dermas, who had almost severed Harry's hand. It wasn't until afterwards that Dermas had told him that he had a magical safe edge surrounding his blade. Thomas Fright had demanded a demonstration of all the curses he had taught him to date. Thanks to the mind-sorting Occlumency techniques that Minra had been teaching him, Harry had been able to recall and successfully use all the curses the ex-Auror had taught him, and even throw in a few new ones Fright had not known about.

Though as the flames flickered and sent of small sparks onto the rug at its base, Harry couldn't help but think that he would be using his new skills soon, very soon. He didn't know when or where, but that basic instinct that had helped him all throughout this year was telling him to be ready. The dam could no longer hold back the flood. An end was coming.

Harry's thoughts were so deep he neither heard the door slowly opening, nor did he hear it click shut ever so quietly. The quiet footsteps on the stone floor went unnoticed and it wasn't until two hands fell before his eyes, that Harry realised someone was there.

"Guess who?" whispered a sweet voice in his ear.


Harry smiled. "Hello, Ginny. Sneak out of dinner early?"

"Dinner's over, Harry," she laughed, twirling around him and sitting down into the purple armchair. "I rushed up here quickly so we could have five minutes."

Harry nodded and required the armchair to extend slightly, so he could squeeze in next to her. He felt a small fluttering in his stomach as his leg brushed hers, but he simply smiled. "It seems we only ever get five minutes..." he whispered.

Ginny nodded. "How's your day been?" she asked.

Harry flexed his bruised wrist. "Long," he mumbled honestly. "Been up since four."

"Why?" she asked quickly.

"I hate sleeping," he whispered, placing his head on her shoulder.

Ginny ran a hand through his ever-scruffy hair and sighed. "Did you read the Prophet?"

"Hmm... Fifty Aurors from Switzerland. That brings the total up to about eight hundred at the Headquarters."

Ginny didn't say anything for a moment, but she did keep running a hand through his hair. "Do you think that will be enough if You-Know-Who attacks?"

Harry shrugged. "Voldemort's no fool..." he said matter of fact. "But we can't know how many Death Eaters he has... so we can't know if six hundred Aurors is enough?"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak again, but unfortunately at that moment the door to the room once again clicked open and creaked on its hinges. Not missing a beat, Ginny jumped quickly out of the chair and separated herself from Harry, giving him a silent apology as she went.

"It's okay," he whispered as half a dozen Hufflepuffs entered, Zacharias Smith among them.

Over the next ten minutes more and more members arrived, all of them noticing the dozens of brown packages stacked against the back wall on the small tables. Each of them had a small tag attached complete with a name. After a good fifteen minutes all were present, and Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna took their places up the back of the room, ready to hand out the armour packages.

"Right," began Harry once everyone was seated. "Welcome again to the DA. First things first tonight, Dragon Armour."

****

17 March 1997

The Outskirts of Hogsmeade

Three silent figures appeared in the darkness under the shadow of the forest that bordered the sleepy village of Hogsmeade. Dressed entirely in black flowing robes and masked in white, the figures were invisible as the moonlight was hidden behind dark storm clouds.

One of the three figures, whose mask was different from the others, stepped forward and raised his wand sharply. From behind his red mask two grey eyes sparkled malevolently as he whispered dark incantations that made the tip of his wand glow a pale blue.

After a long, silent moment the tip turned green, and then red. "Unforgivable detector," hissed Lucius Malfoy. "Most likely cast by Dumbledore..." One of the other two figures wrote quickly on a piece of parchment, documenting everything Malfoy said. "Dark detectors... three, four, and seven set within the village. Not very strong...."

Malfoy's wand swirled in the darkness, the tip turning a range of different colours. Reds, greens and blues all melded into one. "Shield charms set to activate in an emergency, surrounding all the buildings on the High Street." Falling silent again the wand tip turned a dark green. "Hmm... Unknown ward, definitely Dumbledore's signature. This one may be a problem."

"We should report this to our Master," whispered the second robed figure behind Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy scoffed. "Of course we should," he drawled and then sighed. "Your business is done for this evening. Leave the parchment and Apparate to your homes."

Two small pops and Malfoy stood alone, looking down upon the sleeping village. The faint glow of torchlight was the only illumination that gave away the towns position. Scoffing with contempt, Malfoy looked past the village and up to the castle of Hogwarts. Too long has that Mudblood loving fool resided there he thought. Power will change hands. Even now his son was loyally assisting the proper master of the school. Everything will change. Come the Equinox everything will change....

****

18 March 1997

The log by the lake

Harry sat down and let out a long held breath. Trask sat next to him a moment later, his characteristic smile still plastered on his face. The pale light of dawn fell all around them as the sun rose over the distant mountain, giving light to the dawn of yet another day.

Having just completed their sword training for that day, Harry returned Gryffindor's sword to its hiding place with a thought, just out of sight. As they both tried to catch their breath neither spoke, and the world grew lighter around them. Several minutes passed in silence until it was broken by a familiar screech. Looking into the sky, Harry saw Hedwig soar down gracefully, flying over Trask's head and coming to a soft stop on Harry's shoulder.

Looking for a letter but not really expecting one, Harry stroked her neck. "How are you, girl?" he asked gently, as she pecked his ear affectionately. Hedwig had been visiting more and more often over the past week. Not to deliver mail, but to be close to him. She seemed agitated whenever she left him and always liked to be close. She hadn't left him alone all day on Sunday and had stayed close yesterday as he trained. It was very odd and uncharacteristic behaviour, but most welcome.

"Owl won't leave you alone," laughed Dermas.

"No..." Harry frowned. "Does she seem on edge to you?"

Trask shrugged. "On edge? Not really. Seems to be starved for attention though," he joked.

"Sod off," Harry replied quickly.

Dermas simply laughed but then fell silent as a cool breeze blew in over the lake. "It's not going to be long now," he whispered.

"What's that?" asked Harry, moving Hedwig onto his knee so he could stroke her.

Trask shook his head slowly. "War's a comin'" he said. "Soon... I can feel it."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment as he thought about this. "You can feel it?"

Dermas winked. "My little secret. I just got this feeling that a lot of magic is going to be used here soon. Sort of a sixth sense really... died down after the first war, but...."

"That is interesting," Harry said slowly. "Can you feel how soon?"

Dermas shook his head. "Never can.... just know it's gonna happen. Be prepared for anything, Harry."

A comfortable silence once again fell between them and Hedwig hooted happily as Harry stroked her. Turning from his own thoughts, Harry spoke. "Will you fight when it comes?" he asked.

Trask clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I've every reason to," he mumbled. "I lost my fiancé to... to Voldemort."

Harry nearly gasped at that. "I'm sorry," he managed.

Trask smiled sadly and then leaned over to rough up Harry's hair. "Don't worry about it. It was twenty years ago now...."

"What was her name?" asked Harry.

Trask looked up and then out across the lake as the first sunbeams began to hit it, causing the water to reflect the rising light of the sky. "Dorcas Meadows..." he whispered with a sigh.

Harry was sure he had heard that name before. Where was it...? "She was a member of the Order!" he said suddenly. "Moody showed me a photo."

Dermas laughed harshly. "Old Mad-Eye, aye. I didn't join the Order in the first war. I wanted to stay out of it, wanted Dorcas to stay out of it." An awkward silence fell which was broken by Trask a moment later. "You kill that monster, Harry," he whispered dangerously. "I'll fight with you but, by God, you kill him."

****

19 March 1997

The Gryffindor Common Room

"A curse that was used heavily in the First Dark War, results in a broken bone?"

"Cusindeo," Harry muttered. "Nasty curse. Very useful, though."

"Thanks, Harry," Ron replied as he scribbled down the answer to one of his many Defence Against the Dark Arts review questions.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked after that. He hadn't seen her all day.

Ron shrugged. "She has been seeing McGonagall every evening now. They're trying to discover if she can become an Animagus."

"I didn't know that," Harry frowned.

Ron quickly scratched something out on his parchment and then looked up to Harry. "Well... you're hardly ever around anymore mate," he said gently.

Harry didn't reply to that. He knew it was true, he had been seeing less and less of his friends all year. Circumstances had forced them apart, too far apart. He decided then that he would make an extra effort to spend more time with them.

"A shield charm that can defend against physical objects?" Ron asked.

"Travose," Harry answered. "Dark brown in colour, very hard to maintain while casting an offensive spell." No sooner had he finished than a quick, brutal stab of pain rushed up and through his scar, forcing him to cry out slightly.

"What is it?" Ron said quickly as Harry rubbed his forehead viciously.

"Don't know..." he managed. "Anticipation... happiness... preparation, maybe? He's waiting for something. I think he's going to attack soon."

"How soon is soon?" Ron asked nervously.

"That," Harry said as the pain died down. "Is anybody's guess...."

****

19 March 1997

Hogwarts Castle Gates

Draco Malfoy waited impatiently in the shadows by the stone gargoyles that guarded the entrance gates to the magical school. Tonight he would learn of his task, his first real chance to prove himself in the eyes of his Master. A chance to gain the Dark Mark.

The sun had long since sunk behind the castle and a cool wind was blowing across the world. Draco pulled his cloak around himself and mumbled a curse under his breath at the failure for the agent of the Dark Lord to arrive promptly. He was already over twenty minutes late, but Draco knew he would have to wait at least another hour before he could head back up to the castle. Missing the messenger would not be wise.

He wasn't left waiting long. Hearing a squeaking noise behind him in the eaves of the forest, he turned sharply. There was a slight rustling sound. Draco raised his wand and lit it quickly. The light reached out over to the forest and was reflected off something metallic near the closest tree.

"Put it out, fool," whispered a voice that was trying to sound intimidating, but Draco heard the nervousness in it. He did as the voice said anyway.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply.

The man in the darkness moved forward slightly until he was standing in front of Draco. The light wasn't enough so that he could make out any features of the man, but that was probably for the best. "Call me Wormtail," the man said roughly. "And listen closely."

Draco nodded. "My father's owl said to expect a task?"

Wormtail laughed. "Indeed... Lucius was correct. Here, take this."

Wormtail shoved a small rock into Draco's outstretched hand. "What is it?" he asked.

"A voice activated Portkey," Wormtail answered.

****

20 March 1997

Present Time

As darkness began to fall, Harry thought briefly back to the events that had brought him here, to the edge of war. The events of the last two weeks, when he looked back upon it, could not have prevented the coming struggle. Nothing could have.

"Oh well," he said as the Army of Light Headquarters was emptied, heading towards Hogsmeade.

Turning sharply from the balcony of the Astronomy tower, Harry set off at a run down the many steps of the tower. Taking them two at a time he soon entered the corridor at the bottom of the tower. He heard McGonagall's magically amplified voice echoing throughout the school.

"All students are to make their way to the Great Hall immediately. I repeat, all students to the Great Hall now."

With a nervous, excited feeling in his stomach, Harry ran in the direction of the Great Hall. He was several minutes away even at a full run, but run he did. Passed classrooms he went. Professors were leading their students in an orderly fashion as he bolted past them.

Rounding a corner quickly, Harry came to a sudden stop as Dermas appeared from behind the portrait to his left. It was the portrait that led to the Staff quarters. "What's going on?" Trask asked quickly.

Harry took a deep breath. "Come on. Great Hall. I'll explain on the way." And without another word Harry took off at a run again. Trask fell in line beside him, and Harry spoke as they ran. "You were right," he said, bounding down the moving staircases. "It's begun. Death Eaters have attacked Hogsmeade, Dementors are in the forest and on the road, and the Army of Light is intercepting them. Voldemort is up to something else, though."

Trask shook his head. "How do you know that?"


"Saw it up on the Astronomy tower...."

"No. About Voldemort."

Harry laughed bitterly. "My scar's burning. He's planning something different. We have to tell Dumbledore."

"All students and staff to the Great Hall immediately," McGonagall's voice rang out again.

Stepping off the staircases at a run, Harry and Dermas were now on the ground floor. Students and professors were here as well, but Harry pushed through them. They ran down two corridors and then took a well known shortcut that brought them out near the Entrance Hall. Breathing steadily, the two of them took another corridor and then through the double oak doors to the top of the Entrance Hall.

Jostling through the crowds, Harry and Trask pushed their way into the Great Hall. Most were now seated at their House tables and the staff was running up and down the aisles, taking attendance and counting heads. It was at the same time that Harry entered, that McGonagall emerged from the small anteroom connected to the Hall. Harry scanned the crowds quickly, looking for Dumbledore, but the old headmaster was not there.

Cursing under his breath, Harry ran with Dermas behind him, up and between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables. He was heading towards McGonagall.

"What's happening, Harry?" called Neville as he shot past him.

Not having time to answer, Harry kept on going and came to a skidding stop next to McGonagall, who was heading up to the Staff table. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked slightly breathless.

McGonagall looked at him in surprise for a moment, but her strict persona quickly took over. "Take your seat, Potter. All students must be accounted for."

The Hall had grown quiet, possibly because everyone wanted to hear what was happening and Harry was most likely to know. Even the Professors had stopped what they were doing. The only sound came from a few late entrants to the Hall.

Harry ignored it all, though. "No," he replied to McGonagall quickly. "Have to tell Dumbledore... Voldemort's not in Hogsmeade."

McGonagall flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "The Headmaster will be well informed, Potter. Now please take your seat!" She raised her voice slightly at the end but Harry would not be intimidated.

"He doesn't know this," Harry said firmly. "Now where is he? His office?"

McGonagall sighed and looked out to the sea of faces behind Harry and Dermas. "Last I saw him he was, Potter. You may still catch him if you hurry."

Not wasting another second, Harry turned on his heel and began to run once again. Realisation had just hit him that the most decisive battle of the war was about to be fought. The coming hours would decide who took the advantage in the coming months. Hell Harry thought hopefully I could kill him today...

As Harry ran out of the Hall with Dermas Trask behind him, he didn't hear Neville calling his name, nor did he notice that Ron, Hermione and Ginny had never made it to the Great Hall at all. There was also, Snape noticed as he recounted his Slytherins, one of his students missing,

****


Author notes: Well that was left at an awkward moment wasn't it. Trust me when I say the next chapter won't disappoint... at least I hope it won't. There are a fair few details for the next one on the review board so go and check that out and while you're there review. We both win!

Now, we come to a more serious issue, YES even more serious than my scrounging for reviews. *Insert dramatic, sad music here*

This is nearly the end people. Only two more chapters before the bitter end of this fic. Please don't cry yet, as they will be long chapters but they may not be happy ones. Sacrifice has played heavily through this fic and will continue to do so. Little hint there...

Who's to say the Aurors and Harry will win the final battle?

Right, enough of that! Details on the reviewboard.

Thanks to all the reviewers of the last chapter. Here's a few replies:

TheEnt01: Yes both of these chapters were sort of a holding pattern. Needless to say that will be over next chapter.

NateP: I guess I did build up to the breaking point.

johnapple: You're welcome.

KayStar: I was waiting for someone to spot that Nabakza prison thing. You wouldn't believe how hard it actually was to make up a name.

Melindaleo2000: Thanks again. I'll be over reviewing your fic soon. Been busy of late and missed a few chapters I think.

Mahia: Thanks for your three identical posts.

LilTofu322: Thanks and I'm glad you decided to stick with it.

Jaquelyne: Hmm.... who is to say I won't be writing a dark harry fic next? Also who's to say Harry will be alive at the end of this fic? *GASP* Thanks for reviewing.

Hermiones_Double: Thanks. Action filled chapter next.

Lap: What more indeed?

eLeMeNt: Malfoy will get his... I think, depends on my mood. I might have him claim a victory for the Dark.

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed. I really only answer the reviews who have left questions but thanks all the same.

joe6991