The End

Chapter 19: This Could Be the End of Everything

"What about Tonks?" Hermione asked reasonably. "She should be available by then and she'll be close by..."

"We'll need everyone who's that close to start in on those Death Eaters," Sydney said stiffly. "What about Fred and George?"

"They're supposed to keep an eye on things and step in if they see a problem. Your idea, remember?" Harry sighed. He couldn't count the number of times they'd gone through this debate during the night, but now the sun was just beginning to inch its way over the horizon, and the group was beginning to feel very pressed for time. Harry, Hermione, and Sydney had only managed to sleep a few hours with their half finished plan, especially since their track record led them to worry that they might wake up to a raging forest fire and have to relocate again. However, now exhaustion was itching at them and they were cursing their lack of sleep. "We could ask Fred and George to look, but it can't be their first priority."

"What about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?"

"Watching the exits on the second floor," Hermione replied.

"Shacklebot?"

"Monitoring the wards," Harry said.

"Podmore?"

"Breaking through the shield into the locked area."

"One of us?"

"Sydney, stop it, you know we can't."

"You stop it, Sydney yelled. "There's got to be a way."

"We don't have enough people," Harry maintained.

"Don't you understand how much danger Ron and Michael are in?" Sydney demanded. "Don't you care?"

"Of course we do," Hermione replied, sounding hurt. "We want them back as much as you do, but there's no one left."

"What do you think the Death Eaters will do as soon as they realize they're being attacked?" Sydney pointed out.

"Fight back?" Harry supplied dully, rubbing his eyes.

"Alright, the second thing," Sydney admitted.

"Make sure Ron and Michael can't join the fight," Hermione replied.

"Exactly," Sydney cried, getting to her feet. "They might even kill them."

"How many times do we have to go through this argument? There's just not enough..." Harry trailed off when he realized that he'd said something very wrong.

In all his days of knowing Sydney Bristow, Harry had never seen her quite like this before. There she stood, every wall and defense she possessed broken, obliterated as the stress, concern, and fear of the past few days overtook her. For once, he saw her as she truly was, lost, exhausted, and alone, with no more answers than he or Hermione. He almost felt uncomfortable watching her as she fought against her tears with her very being stripped bear before him. Harry wished he knew what to do, how to help her, but she provided no hints and simply stood there, one hand, tucked into her sleeve and covering her mouth. Harry's hand twitched and he nearly reached out to grab her other hand, but she turned away.

"We can't abandon them," Sydney finally sighed after a few minutes, sitting back down.

"We don't have a choice," Harry sighed, happy that Sydney had managed to collect herself. "Listen, if we win then we'll force the Death Eaters to tell us where Ron and Michael are and go rescue them ourselves. And if we don't win then we'll probably be in worse trouble than they are."

"They're counting on us," Sydney whispered.

"Then we have to win so we can save them," Harry replied, laying a hand on Sydney's forearm. "We have to make sure that the Death Eaters are so occupied with us that they don't have time to think about Ron and Michael. So can we finish going over the plan now?"

"Alright," Sydney sniffed, straightening up. "After the distraction, then..."

"I'll get to Malfoy as fast as possible," Harry replied promptly, glad that their futile debate had finally run its course. "We'll fight it out from there."

"Everyone who can will join you as quickly as possible," Hermione continued, "as soon as we figure out how to get through that barrier you mentioned."

"I still don't like the idea of sitting around waiting for a signal while the rest of you are in there fighting," Harry protested. "Are you sure there's not a way I could help, then leave just before this distraction happens."

"Not if we make it impossible to leave," Hermione reminded him. "Those wards work on everyone, not just Death Eaters."

"I'm still not convinced about those either," Harry muttered.

"You volunteered for this job, Harry," Sydney pointed out. "If you don't want it then say so now so we can give it to someone else."

"You're sure this is the most dangerous task?" Harry asked, glancing over their notes.

"Yes, I'm sure," Hermione replied, "aside from Sydney's, maybe, but you know she's the only one who can do that."

"Then I still volunteer," Harry muttered. "If someone has to die it might as well be me."

"I wish you'd stop talking like that, Harry," Hermione said. "You've faced them in the past and won."

"I've faced them in the past and survived," Harry clarified.

"That sounds like winning to me," Hermione muttered.

"So, the rest of us will be watching the exits, making sure those wards work so that no one can escape," Sydney said, forcing them to continue their review.

"I'm telling you that won't work," Harry said firmly. "There's too many ways out, most of which are untraceable."

"I suppose you'd rather we just stand back and let them all run," Hermione replied.

"I wish you'd just keep on taking them out," Harry said.

Hermione and Sydney paused, slightly annoyed. Harry had been interjecting this idea for most of the night and they understood where he was coming from but were unwilling to agree. After all, as long as there were Death Eaters in Azkaban, there was a possibility that they could escape, but they wouldn't trouble anyone anymore if they were dead. The only problem was that they had no intention of being on the giving end of massacre, even if Death Eaters were the recipients.

The outsider might have suspected that Harry had lost his fighting spirit. However, the truth was even more strange and unexpected, for evidence was growing that Harry had lost everything except his fighting spirit- every higher emotion was being drained out of him to preserve his will to survive against all odds. This observant outsider might not be so far from the mark as it would seem, for Harry hated that survival instinct with every fiber that could still contain such emotion, especially for the suffering it seemed to cause. He despised his own tendency to leap into battle simply because he was the only person around who could, or because he thought he had caused whatever pain and suffering another had to endure, and he tried to suppress it even as it consumed him. Of course, none of this had happened on any conscious level, not at first, for if it had, Harry would have tried to put some effort into preventing this transformation. After all, Dumbledore had often said that Harry's ability to care and love was his greatest asset against Voldemort, and the former Headmaster's advice had never lead him astray before. Then again, Harry was no longer fighting Voldemort, and it remained to be seen if his emotions were a necessary weapon anymore.

"The idea is to take them captive, not hurt them," Hermione sighed, fairly certain that she knew where such a statement would take their conversation, but she couldn't go on letting Harry say such things without arguing her own opinion.

"Because that worked so well last time," Harry muttered.

"I'm sure the Ministry will have tighter security in Azkaban now," Hermione said.

"Are you?" Harry pressed.

Hermione shrugged but wouldn't look at him and muttered something about personally making sure security would be stepped up if she had to.

"I don't understand why you're so resistant to this plan, Harry," Hermione said, speaking up now. "You know this is the best chance we have of succeeding. Once all the Death Eaters are in Azkaban you'll be free."

"I thought I was free once," Harry muttered. "Turns out there's no such thing."

There was a moment of awkward silence until Sydney changed the subject. "You know I might not be able to destroy my target."

"You'll just have to come up with a way," Hermione sighed.

"You forgot to mention that we don't even know what that will do," Harry pointed out.

"Dobby said it was important," Hermione replied, losing patience.

"But he didn't say it's explosive, or that it would take out the defenses of the entire mansion," Harry said.

"So we're going in there with an unknown number of people, not knowing if half our points of entry will even lead inside, basing our tactics on distractions we're not sure will work," Sydney recapped.

"Sounds about right," Harry muttered.

"And this is better than our last plan how?" Sydney pressed, coming to believe that Harry had a valid point. This was certainly nothing like any mission she had ever undertaken for the CIA.

"Because we have backup plans that'll work nearly as well as the originals, we'll have more people in there with us, and this time I think we might all be desperate enough to pull this off," Hermione said smartly.

Harry and Sydney probably would have continued the argument, but they sensed that all they would achieve was a few more hours spent planning backups for their backup plans, and they knew they couldn't do much better than they already had, especially without a few hours of sleep.

Instead, Sydney said, "So, after we miraculously pull this all off?"

"I suppose we let the Ministry clean it all up," Hermione replied with a shrug. "They should be able to handle that at least."

"Then we can grab our brooms and fly off into the sunset," Harry said sadly.

He half expected Sydney to start up the old argument about rescuing Ron and Michael one last time for good measure, but instead she held her silence and took a moment to reflect on their failed mission with him and Hermione.

Finally, Hermione looked up and said, "Sydney, how long do you think you'll need?"

"Not long, assuming your information is correct," Sydney replied.

"If we were to go in tonight, could you manage it?" Hermione pressed.

"Sure," Sydney said. Her face was momentarily stunned, but she covered it by looking cavalier instead.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked impressed, "Now that we've got a plan I don't think we should wait any longer than we have to."

"I should get going, then," Sydney said. She and Hermione got up from the table, leaving Harry still pouring over the maps.

Hermione transfigured a set of Sydney's robes while Sydney checked her equipment and put it in her bag.

"I don't know what anyone in the Order looks like," Sydney pointed out. "How will I be able to tell them apart?"

"They'll be the ones who aren't dressed like Death Eaters," Hermione shrugged.

"And how will they be able to tell me apart?" Sydney pressed, glancing at her changed robes.

"I'll show them a picture of you," Hermione said, noticing the flaw in their plan.

"Great," Sydney muttered. "At least they're not coming out to kill anyone."

"Good luck," Hermione said as she straightened up, changing the subject to avoid mentioning that not everyone in the Order could be expected to heed that guideline.

"You too," Sydney replied, turning to leave. "Good luck, Harry," she added before stepping out of the tent.

Hermione heard the car start up and leave, then said, "We should get going too, Harry. We've got a lot to do."

Harry made no reply, in fact there was no sound from the table at all.

Hermione turned around, prepared to snap at him for falling asleep when there was still so much to be done, but she never got the chance. Harry had disappeared. Hermione spent a moment feeling perfectly stunned, then her head started racing. There was no sign of a fight, so it seemed unlikely that Harry had been abducted. Besides, Sydney had spoken to him less than thirty seconds ago. Hermione raced outside, looking for any sign of Harry, and, finding none, came back in. She hadn't heard him Disapparate either, but that didn't actually mean much. Harry was so skilled at Apparation that under normal circumstances he could do it while making hardly any sound. Even Hermione couldn't match him, although she hadn't spent three days in a row Apparating across a room until she couldn't summon enough destination, determination, or deliberation to summon a sock.

Hermione sat down in Harry's spot at the table, hoping for some clue as to his whereabouts. Closest to her was a general map of the area, and on it they had circled the location of their campground and that of Malfoy Manor. Hermione was immediately furious, of all the stupid, pigheaded things to do, how could he suddenly decide that he was better off taking on the Death Eaters by himself and then act on it without telling anyone?

Hermione was about to apparate after him in the hopes of finding him soon enough to stop him from endangering the mission and getting himself killed. However, she stopped when she noticed something else on the map. There, some distance from any marked location, was a site marked with a familiar name.

Harry had gone to Godric's Hollow.