The End

Chapter 24: If You've Got Enough Nerve

"Jolly good of them to invite us along this time," Fred quipped with an air of cordiality that masked his true feelings about being shut out of the resistance movement until that point.

"At least they gave us a job that suits our unique talents," George replied.

This, at least, was true. After Sydney dismantled the defenses and wards around Malfoy Manor they'd deposited themselves on the top floor and started dispatching all the Death Eaters they could find, which as it transpired, wasn't very many.

"Bad form, sir," Fred exclaimed as a curse hit him in the back but bounced off the personal shield created by his hat and rebounded on its creator, "attacking a man from behind."

"Tsk, tsk," George chided as he wrapped the Death Eater head to toe in ropes and tossed him unceremoniously in a nearby broom closet.

These hats served a double purpose. Not only did they make the twins invulnerable to most spells and curses, but, since they resembled nothing so much as flamingoes, it typically gave them an extra second to react because the Death Eaters were so shocked at their appearance.

"Have you given any thought to this signal we're supposed to be giving?" George asked.

"I brought those smoke pellets," Fred replied.

"Nah, too subtle," George pointed out.

"Right you are," Fred admitted. "How about we blow something up? We could limit it to the middle of the building; finish all of this right now."

"I can see the headline now," George said. "Massive explosion in Malfoy Manor, twenty five Death Eaters, eight Order members and Harry Potter die in the blast."

"Oh yeah," Fred sighed, then he brightened up. "'In related news: sales at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes soar.'"

They spent a moment in quiet though, gazing around for inspiration. Simultaneously, they looked at each other and exclaimed, "Fireworks!"

"The after party will be a drag without these," Fred muttered as he pulled a box of fireworks out of his pack and gave half to George.

"We can pick up some more later," George pointed out.

"True," Fred admitted. "We ready then?"

"Let's go," George replied.

They set out in opposite directions, reeling out a long, tan string between them. When Fred reached his destination, he took the string and separated two smaller strings at the end, then stuck one in his ear and held the other up to his mouth so the device vaguely resembled a telephone, and said, "You there yet?"

"Ouch!" George exclaimed in reply. "Don't talk so loud!"

"Sorry," Fred said, dropping the mouthpiece so it hung at about the level of his chest. "So, this is the new version. You might have told me."

"I thought you knew," George moaned.

"Are you there or not?" Fred demanded.

"I'm ready," George replied.

Fred pulled out his wand and put a small hole in the floor and into the room below, then pulled out a long white string, one end of which burrowed its way through the hole. Fred lifted the other end and gazed into it. His field of vision was immediately filled with a blurry and blue shifted view of the room beneath him.

"These extendable eyes need work, you know," George said through the double ended extendable ears, echoing Fred's thoughts.

"I said that they would be helpful in here, not that they were ready to go on the sales floor," Fred replied.

For the next few minutes Fred sent his extendable eye scurrying around rooms and under doors.

"How many Death Eaters have you seen so far?" George asked.

"About five, but one might have been a suit of armor," Fred said. "Why?"

"Because that brings the total number we've seen up to nine," George answered. "So either Hermione's distraction worked better than she thought it would or they're all hiding somewhere."

"We'll find them," Fred assured him.

"I've got Tonks," George exclaimed suddenly, "at least, I'm pretty sure that's her, I don't think a real Death Eater would do that."

"There's Ginny," Fred added, sounding relieved. "She looks ready."

"So does Tonks," George replied. "We're running out of time. Any sign of Malfoy?"

"Not yet," Fred replied, urging his extendable eye on to greater speeds. "Have you seen Ron and Michael?"

"No," George said, "but they'll only be stunned anyway. Listen, if we don't find Malfoy soon we'll have to go ahead with it anyway, Harry's going to get here any minute."

"I've got him!" Fred exclaimed suddenly, prompting George to cry out in pain again at the noise level. "He's holed up with at least ten Death Eaters, let's go!"

Fred and George yanked out their extendable eyes and ears and lit their fireworks, which they released through the holes into the second floor and out the doors into the third. The fireworks distributed themselves with alarming speed. Soon it seemed that everywhere in the building had been visited by at least a few sparks. Everywhere Death Eaters stopped what they were doing and looked at them, confused, and everywhere members of the Order threw themselves to the ground, squeezing their eyes shut and stuffing their fingers in their ears.

***************

When everything started, Ginny had been confident in her ability to accomplish her task, but her botched attempt at healing Sydney's hand had robed her of that. This was compounded by the fact that her task involved a piece of Muggle technology. Ginny had only the vaguest idea of how to make it work, and even Hermione hadn't known whether or not it would malfunction inside of Malfoy Manor nor what to do if it did.

As soon as she reached her destination, Ginny cast sonorous on the device, amplifying its sound so it would resonate throughout the mansion. Less than a minute later, a firework sped past the door, causing several sparks to slip through the cracks. She pressed a button on the device and a few seconds later the most horrible, piercing, grating sound imaginable was emitted from it and into the building. By that time Ginny was already on the floor, her hands in her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

***************

Tonks' initial task was supposed to be to incapacitate the first Death Eater she came across then hide him and take his place. However, she decided to modify this plan and took out all the Death Eaters she found, simply because she had trouble convincingly copying the features of men, especially recently. Her plan was thwarted, however, by the apparent lack of women among the ranks of the Death Eaters. When she decided that she could wait no longer she assumed the appearance of the last Death Eater she'd captured and continued on her way.

Thus, Tonks was a bit more nervous and uncomfortable than she would have liked when she slunk into a small room near the edge of the second floor, looking for all the world like she had some important and legitimate business in there.

This wasn't so far from the truth. As soon as the door was closed, Tonks pulled a chair underneath the overhead light and stood on it. Fortunately, the light, being powered by magic, was cool to the touch, and she freed the fixture from the wall and pulled it down without much trouble. Then Tonks pulled a handful of ingenious little devices of Hermione and Sydney's creation out of her pocket and, transferring the light to her elbow, activated them with a flick of her wand. Immediately, they flew up like a swarm of insects and disappeared into the hole in the ceiling left by the light fixture, all except one, which attached itself to the light Tonks was holding. Satisfied that this meant the rest of them would do their jobs, Tonks replaced the light and jumped down off the chair. She turned around just in time to see a group of sparks soar underneath the door. A few seconds later, the horrible sound Ginny had set off filled her ears and Tonks flicked her wand again then threw herself into the same position as the rest of the Order, hands over ears and eyes squeezed shut. Above her she felt rather than saw the light flickering rapidly.

***************

When the light and noise subsided, Fred and George stood up and began sorting out their tools again.

"What was that?" George asked through the extendable ear.

"When Hermione explained it, she said that the flashing light does something to people's brains and knocks them out," Fred replied. "Something Sydney's used before."

"Hermione didn't know what she was talking about did she," George said.

"Not a clue," Fred agreed, sending his extendable eye back down the hole. "It seemed to work, at least." All the Death Eaters he could see were lying on the floor or slumped over furniture.

"Blimey! That Harry is fast!" George exclaimed. "He's already got the fireplace blown up. I don't even know where he is anymore."

"I found Ginny," Fred added, looking at his finger with an expression of mild interest. "Can you think of a good use for earwax?"

"None that Bertie Bott hasn't already done," George replied after a moment of careful thought.

"I managed to get a good amount here," Fred explained. "It'd be a pity to let it go to waste."

"Why don't you figure out how to save it, then you can experiment on it later," George replied, allowing an air of disgust to filter into his voice.

"I think I will," Fred said.

"There's Hermione," George sighed, "and...how the bloody hell did they do that?"

"Do what?" Fred demanded, accidentally allowing his extendable eye to quest in George's direction in his curiosity.

"Ron and someone who I assume is Michael are with her!" George exclaimed.

"I thought they were captured," Fred said.

"They were," George confirmed.

"Well, apparently these Death Eaters didn't do a very good job of it," Fred laughed.

As the extendable eye progressed into the next room, Fred watched as Mundungus Fletcher and Sturgis Podmore came in and began tying up the unconscious Death Eaters.

"Wow! Mum, where'd you learn that!" George exclaimed suddenly.

"What'd she do?" Fred demanded.

"A really neat spell!" George replied. "'Course it would have been more impressive if her victim was awake and fighting back, but..."

"Remember to make her teach it to us later," Fred suggested.

They lapsed into silence, only raising the occasional praise at a particularly good bit of spell work until Fred suddenly moaned, "Oh, no."

George, who'd been about to report that he'd found Tonks alive, well, and much easier to spot now that she'd resumed her usual appearance, thought better of it and said instead, "What's wrong?"

"You remember that room with Malfoy and the ten Death Eaters?" Fred asked. "Well they're awake and some of the Death Eaters are missing."

"How can that be?" George exclaimed. "The light show can't have worn off, none of the other Death Eaters are awake."

"Maybe they never got the light show," Fred suggested. "That room could be some sort of bunker. The noise was never supposed to knock them out, just annoy them."

"Can we shut the rest of them in there?" George asked.

"Not unless there's a way to tell someone what happened," Fred replied. Most of the trinkets they'd brought along were only meant to be deployed at close distance.

"From the looks of things it will take awhile before anyone makes it over there," George said. "In the meantime they'll be able to set up an ambush."

"This lot really has no respect for the rules of engagement," Fred said, taking a pouting air.

"And we're better?" George laughed, "knocking them out with lights."

"We used our heads, they're just...being mean," Fred replied, failing to determine a suitably heinous crime in time.

"Excellent point," George said, regardless of the weakness in Fred's thesis.

"So they're plotting an ambush, we're the only ones who know about it, and we can't tell the people who could do something about it," Fred said, counting on his fingers.

"Sounds about right," George confirmed.

"So why don't we go foil their little plan," Fred suggested.

"I was hoping you'd say that," George beamed.

"Shall we then?"

"We shall."

***************

Harry spent what had to be two of the most agonizing hours of his life pacing around the Weasley's living room. His route typically took him from the fireplace to the backdoor to the enchanted clock, on which every hand except Percy's was pointed at mortal peril, then back to the fireplace. He'd typically look at each then scowl when he didn't see what he was looking for and move on.

For all the improvements the Ministry had made to itself after the fall of Voldemort, their procedure concerning portkeys was still wrapped tightly in red tape, unfortunately leaving them out of the question as a mode of transportation. Several times over those two hours, Harry vowed to lobby the appropriate officials to make an exception if the traveler in question could prove that he or she would save the world by reaching their desired destination. As it stood, the only form of transportation that could get him where he needed to be was the floo network. The original plan had called for Harry to floo from the Leaky Cauldron, but Fred and George had volunteered the Burrow instead, and Harry had accepted for its increased privacy. There would have been a few advantages to waiting in the Leaky Cauldron, though. For one, Harry felt like he could have done with a drink.

Finally, the mirror in the living room got fed up with him and yelled something about wearing a hole in the floor and combing his hair. Harry told it to mind its own business, but either it hadn't been enchanted with ears or it wouldn't listen to him.

Annoyed with the mirror's complaints, Harry stepped into the garden and took a calming breath of fresh air. When he spotted a gnome watching him from underneath a bush, he reached over and caught it by its ankle, spun it around a few times, and tossed it over the fence. When Harry turned around he discovered that many other gnomes that popped up to investigate and before he knew it he was engaged in a full scale degnoming.

As he tossed the only remaining occupants of the Burrow unceremoniously over the wall, Harry realized something that'd been bothering him since he arrived. Even though the Weasleys were the closest he came to having a proper family and they welcomed him as one of their own, he still felt like nothing more than a glorified guest in their home, a notion that was mostly self imposed. Thus, it felt somehow impolite to be there without a member of the Weasley clan present. Furthermore, all of the times he'd come to visit, the Burrow had been positively filled with people, crowded, perhaps, but welcoming and exciting as well. To be in the place when it was so thoroughly deserted and quiet was a little disturbing.

Harry spotted something in the distance. As it approached he could tell that it was silver in color and so bright that whatever it was passing looked pathetically dull by contrast. The furthest gnomes were pausing to stare now, even those that were still dizzy and confused. Harry was fairly certain that he knew what it was, but pulled out his wand just in case.

As the figure finally got close enough for Harry to see its form properly his heart gave a strange sort of dive, leaping higher at first then settling somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. It was an otter, Hermione's patronus, the signal she'd agreed to send when the Order was about to enter Malfoy Manor.

Shakily, Harry noted the time, then stepped back inside. The mirror started to protest again, but restrained itself when Harry dropped weakly onto the nearest sofa.

He could hardly stand that once again members of the Order were risking their lives to give him any small advantage. Even worse was the fact that, this time, they didn't have to. There was no prophecy claiming that only Harry could defeat Malfoy, nor any other reason to believe such a thing was true. In fact, it probably would have been a better idea to have someone who was actually in the Order, one of the Aurors, perhaps, complete this leg of the mission, or at least someone who didn't have his past come back to haunt him at random intervals.

The only reason he'd taken this task was because he couldn't in good conscience give it to someone else. What's more, he couldn't let anyone volunteer for it either, and Hermione, Fred, and George had all given it a good try. Harry couldn't let anyone else do this job because he'd been the one who came up with it during the planning with Hermione and Sydney, and because, unless a great many things went exactly right, it was likely to be a suicide mission. Harry had spent most of his life surrounded by people who were more than willing to sacrifice themselves for him, but he was now less than willing to let them.

Harry glanced at his watch and discovered that fifty minutes of the agreed hour had elapsed. He stood and walked to the fireplace, mentally going over his plan. It didn't take long: if everything went right he wouldn't have much to do, and if everything didn't go right he'd appear, dizzy and disoriented, in the middle of fifty Death Eaters, and he had no way of finding out which it would be until he got there.

With about thirty seconds to go, Harry lit a deceptively merry little flame in the fireplace, added a pinch of floo powder, and walked into it, shouting "Malfoy Manor!"

Harry extricated himself from the fireplace as quickly and gracefully as he could and stood, wand raised, prepared to stun anything that moved, knowing that if he happened to hit a member of the Order he could wake the person up and apologize later. However, the only other occupant of the room was a Death Eater, but he was slumped against a wall and clearly unconscious. Apparently Sydney's flashing lights had worked.

Unsure of how much time had passed since the light show had ended but knowing that the Death Eaters would only remain asleep for a limited amount of time, Harry quickly tied up the unconscious man and set about collapsing the fireplace. When he was satisfied that the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to use that method of escape anytime soon, Harry moved on.

He met no resistance in the next room, although he did have to duck under a firework. Only the urgency of the situation prevented him from pausing to ponder where it might have come from. Three rooms after that, the Death Eaters had begun to stir and he had to stun them again before disarming and binding them. He still hadn't seen any evidence of anyone in the Order. Granted that the entire purpose for his solitary mission was because of the charms or spells shielding the section the mansion where the most delicate of the Death Eaters' work was carried out, but surely they must have figured out how to break through them by now, unless, of course, Sydney's method of defense had worked too well and knocked the Order out as well.

All hope began to fail when Harry found himself in a hallway filled with disoriented but recovering Death Eaters. He received his first injury from a Death Eater who'd craftily feigned unconsciousness until Harry passed him by in favor of confronting those who looked like they would soon become an immediate threat. Harry gained the upper hand eventually, but not before he'd been hit with the leg-locker curse and gotten a cut stretching from his left elbow to his wrist. He performed the appropriate counter curse and conjured a wrapping around his arm then continued on.

The Death Eaters Harry encountered persisted in using similar non lethal spells on him. It was an advantage he'd observed the last time he'd gone up against Death Eaters. They seemed to want to take him captive and make an example of him rather than kill him outright. Of course, he was sure that if they ever got the best of him he would wish he was dead. That was certainly the case for the other times he'd been captured.

Thus, it was with the greatest of relief that Harry entered the next room and found its occupants already tied up and struggling fruitlessly against their bonds.

Harry encountered several more rooms such as these and cautiously began exploring alternate routes, hoping to find more Death Eaters that hadn't yet been caught.

Despite his indirect course, Harry was finally getting close to the very center of the second floor when he saw something that nearly made him cry out in fear and surprise.

***************

"What do you suppose they did to that door?" Fred asked, his hand still tingling from when the doorknob had shocked him. He and George had just arrived in the inner section of the second floor and were tying up the waking Death Eaters as quickly as they could on their way to dismantle the ambush.

"I'm not sure," George admitted, as a firework careened into view. He raised his wand to extinguish it, then changed his mind and left it alone. "Maybe we could get one of these blokes to tell us. I'm sure our customers would love some sort of safe that can't be broken into."

"Whoever did that must have thought he was pretty clever," Fred muttered. His shocked hand had started shaking annoyingly.

"Not clever enough to figure on someone cutting through the wall," George reminded him.

"True," Fred laughed. "You know, from what I've seen, these Death Eaters aren't nearly as smart as they think they are."

"I know!" George exclaimed. "They spend their entire existence promoting purebloods and terrorizing Muggle-borns, then, of all things, it works out to be Muggle technology that takes them all out in one-"

It was as though they'd just stepped in traps. One second they were walking normally and the next their wands had been yanked from their hands and they were dangling in midair by their ankles. Five sneering Death Eaters appeared a few seconds later.

Fred and George took one look at each other and burst out laughing, as though suddenly finding themselves hanging upside down and surrounded by Death Eaters was the funniest joke they'd heard in years, although it could have had something to do with the fact that gravity had pulled their robes inside out over their heads, leaving their underwear in plain view.

"That your lucky pair?" Fred asked as soon as he'd recovered, eying his brother's zebra striped boxers

"Sure is," George replied happily. "You?"

"Yep," Fred said, twisting around to try and direct himself to whichever Death Eater looked like he was in charge of their operation. "Excellent show. Really top notch."

"It took you much less time to fall for our little trick than we thought," George added. He, of course, meant nothing of the sort, but keeping the opponent off balance always seemed to help when they were faced with Filch or other such figures who liked to get them in trouble, and George couldn't think of a reason why the same tactic shouldn't work on Death Eaters as well.

Fred nodded adamantly and a few looks of panic passed between the Death Eaters.

***************

Harry could scarcely believe his eyes when two Death Eaters detached themselves from the group and left down a perpendicular hallway from his own, apparently to see if any counter ambushes had actually been set up while they were distracted.

When Harry had arrived at the scene a few minutes earlier he'd thought that Fred and George would be dead before they could stop laughing, now the Death Eaters were practically manageable.

He made a mental note to spend more time with Fred and George if they all made it out of this, for it seemed that there was a great deal he could learn from them. He slipped out of his meager hiding place and magically stunned and bound the leader of the Death Eaters. However, he didn't have clear shot at the rest of them with Fred and George in the way. Instead, Harry rushed forward, thinking the counter curse to the twin's condition and summoning their wands. They fell painfully to the floor but recovered quickly as Harry handed over their wands and the three of them formed a tight line facing the Death Eaters.

Together they made short work of their two remaining opponents, but their victory was cut off by the return of the two Death Eaters who had gone exploring, accompanied by several more. Harry couldn't explain where they'd come from and assumed that someone had missed a group and left them untied. However, when more Death Eaters arrived a few seconds later it seemed that the situation had deteriorated much more rapidly than any one of them had anticipated, and no amount of wit would save them now.

Fred and George merely shrugged and began sending out a positive whirlwind of spells, which Harry, though feeling a bit more dubious about the situation, copied. The twins took turns pausing to pull some random trinket out of a pocket and throw it on the ground, at which point it would start spewing out fog or sparks or else launch itself at whatever enemy happened to be closest. This reminded Harry suddenly of the artifacts he'd found in his parent's workshop and he sacrificed one hand and some attention to digging through his pockets. He found the tripping rope and tossed it at the closest Death Eater, who promptly dropped to the floor, then the seeking device, which traveled about making a nuisance of itself. The last item he came up with was a bit of a disappointment: the compass rock was a valuable tool, but not good for much in a fight. Desperate for any advantage he could find, Harry thought of Lucius Malfoy, hoping the rock would reveal him to be one of the Death Eaters currently assailing them, simply in disguise, or, even better, dead. However, the rock chose instead to point behind him down the hallway that led to the very center of the building.

"We need to go that way," Harry called, indicating the direction with his head.

"Why?" George asked.

"Malfoy is down there," Harry replied.

They didn't bother asking how he'd come to know that, but they didn't move either. Instead, Fred said, "You go, we'll hold them off."

"But!" Harry tried to protest. He didn't want to leave them until help came, for it seemed that for every Death Eater they took down another one took his place. Harry still couldn't explain where they were coming from.

"Don't make us force you down there," George threatened as they crowded him out of their line so he had no choice but to go down the hallway. Seeing that they were not to by swayed, Harry wished the twins luck and turned to go.

This corridor was a dead end, ending in a single room which not even Dobby had known the function of, thus making it the most obvious location for the true central command for the Death Eaters.

Harry cracked the door open and stunned the Death Eater standing there in one slick movement, then stepped inside and found himself face to face with another opponent. In a brief but violent struggle, Harry managed to best his enemy with a series of well placed hexes and sent him sprawling next to his companion, at which point Harry stunned him as well and bound both men together.

He spun around when he heard someone clapping slowly behind him. Lucius Malfoy was watching from atop a chair perched upon a raised platform. It resembled nothing so much as a throne.

"Well done," Malfoy said loftily.

"Surrender now and you won't be harmed," Harry said.

"I wondered whether I'd be seeing you here, Mr. Potter," Malfoy continued as though he hadn't heard Harry's ultimatum.

"I'm sure you've deduced that to make it here I would have to incapacitate most of the other Death Eaters," Harry tried. "You have no help coming."

"You always have been sort of the odd case, haven't you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "So eager to sacrifice yourself. Honorable, but foolish."

"On the other hand, the Order will be along any moment," Harry said. He was finding it difficult to maintain his train of thought in this strange, dual conversation. "Surrender now and you won't be hurt," he repeated.

"But right now it's just you and me," Malfoy pointed out, acknowledging that Harry had spoken for the first time. "What if it came to a duel?"

"I've dueled with Voldemort and won," Harry retorted. "You would be no trouble."

Malfoy fought down an angry outburst when Harry referred to Voldemort by name and said instead, "Don't delude yourself, you are a master of luck, nothing more, and I'm very curious to know where your salvation might come from this time, and where it came from in that fight against the Dark Lord."

"We don't have to do this! If we both just walk away right now neither of us would have to die. We could agree never to see each other again. This doesn't have to happen," Harry cried adamantly. He suspected his plea might have been more convincing if he wasn't holding up the wand, but he wasn't about to let down his guard for a moment while in Voldemort's presence.

"The Seer said, 'Neither may live while the other survives,'" Voldemort hissed apparently under the impression that Harry was trying to trick him. "Seers can't lie while in a trance."

"But they can't See everything either," Harry replied. "That Seer saw one possibility out of trillions of futures. We still have a choice."

"You have proven yourself to be a threat to me," Voldemort said. "I cannot allow you to live."

Harry's hand tightened around the foreign wand.

Harry started out of his memory, shaking his head to clear away the vision then looked up at Malfoy as though nothing had happened and said, "I didn't have any help in that fight."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Malfoy sneered. "I was there when you dueled the Dark Lord in the graveyard; I know your wands wouldn't function against each other. You bested the Dark Lord in another match of wills and you expect me to believe that it wasn't luck."

"I didn't use my wand," Harry replied. "It was someone else's."

Harry was happy to see an expression of fear commandeer Malfoy's face upon hearing that Harry had defeated Voldemort despite using a wand that he wasn't entirely compatible with, but he managed to recover quickly enough. "You know, Potter, judging by the look of you, if I didn't know any better I'd say you'd lost your nerve."

Harry didn't know if his flashback had cost him a second or an hour, but if Malfoy's look now was anything to go by then he must have noticed the lapse. "I suppose the fact that I helped take down most of your Death Eaters factored into that opinion," Harry replied, mustering as much wit as he could.

"Yes," Malfoy said thoughtfully, looking vacant. "I much prefer that cheeky little brat I met in your second year. He had potential."

"Potential to do what?" Harry laughed. "Join the Death Eaters? Not likely."

"Potential to do something," Malfoy replied. "I'll bet you don't even want to fight me. You're a shadow of your former self."

"You made me who I am!" Harry exclaimed. "You and Voldemort and the other Death Eaters and that stupid prophecy. Why don't you try fighting for your life from the age of one, then we'll see how much potential you've got!"

"Fascinating," Malfoy said quietly, as though Harry was an especially interesting, but brainless, specimen in some grand experiment.

"I'm sure," Harry muttered, unsure of how much longer he would be able to stand Malfoy's demeaning manner.

However, at that moment, Malfoy's attitude mercifully changed and he stood up and stepped down from his throne, saying, "I believe it's clear by now that your precious Order will not be coming soon, and I have no intention of surrendering. Shall we get this over with?"

As Malfoy bowed and Harry numbly mirrored the movement, unable to help but note how strange it seemed to begin in a fight of this magnitude with a statement like that. Stranger still was the fact that Malfoy insisted that they stand on ceremony. In the heat of battle, not even Voldemort had done that. Then Harry realized that he should have tried to avoid thinking about Voldemort.

The two figures circled each other, neither knowing from whom the first strike would emanate, but in a fight such as this, one well placed spell might be all it would take.

"One...two..."

Voldemort struck suddenly. Harry couldn't tell what the spell was, but he hoped a personal shield spell would be enough to stop it.

The curse bounced harmlessly off Harry's charm. He'd been ready for such a tactic, having encountered it before. Apparently, Draco had learned from Lucius that counting to three to start a wizard's duel was important, but actually waiting for the count of three was not.

Harry recovered and sent a disarming spell back toward Malfoy, but it met in midair with one of Voldemort's and both ricocheted off each other and hit the walls instead.

"You got a new wand," Voldemort hissed. His inflection was impossible to read, so Harry couldn't tell if his opponent was bolstered or intimidated.

"Yeah, well, you took mine," Harry replied cheekily. "This one's on loan."

The battle continued on this way for some time. Both competitors were evenly matched, despite Harry's increasing desperation to gain an upper hand over Voldemort, who was rapidly pressing the advantage of his superior knowledge in magic, almost as though he was toying with Harry. All the research on powerful spells he'd done over the past year, all the practice, it couldn't have been more useless now that he was face to face with Voldemort.

Inevitably, one of Voldemort's spells broke through, and, to Harry's utter misfortune, it happened to the Cruciatus curse. Feeling as though every nerve in his body had suddenly caught fire, Harry dropped to his knees then slumped to the ground, writhing in pain. He couldn't fight back while the spell was on him, he could barely even think, but maybe he deserved this. Maybe this was some of how Ron was feeling. Then Harry found something to focus on, something he couldn't let go of if he tried. He had to get back there. Then, suddenly, the pain was gone. Shaking slightly, Harry got back to his feet and raised his wand again.

Finally, the stalemate ended when Harry sent a quick succession of spells at Malfoy. The Death Eater couldn't block them all and finally the full body bind broke through and hit him. Malfoy stiffened and fell backwards.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it, but he cast a hex and the charm to make objects bounce one right after the other. Somehow, the second one caught up with the first and they both careened pathetically off course. Harry thought all was lost, but the spells bounced off the wall and then another and another, then hit Voldemort in the back, covering his skin in disgusting flakes.

Harry didn't know what to think, he'd never heard of spells acting on other spells like that, and judging by Voldemort's expression, he hadn't either. They both paused, awestruck, but Harry pulled himself together faster.

Malfoy thought the counter curse and unfroze himself before he even hit the floor, but wasn't quick enough to prevent himself from falling.

Harry pressed his advantage to its fullest extent, casting every spell he could think of at Voldemort Malfoy. His opponent barely had time to acknowledge the last barrage, much less prepare for the next.

Finally, Voldemort had been hit with so many curses and hexes that he could no longer fight back. He could barely even move. Harry stood over him, knowing what he had to do and hating every bit of it. Still, he took a moment to remember everything he had faced because of the man lying before him, all the people who had died and those who had lived in fear for years, and from this he summoned every ounce of hatred and revulsion he possessed. In that moment there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Voldemort dead.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

For a moment, all Harry could see was green, then the eerie light faded and he looked upon his victim, but even as he watched, the snakelike face from his memory melted away and was replaced by Lucius Malfoy. He was clearly dead.

Harry's wand slipped out of his limp grasp as he stumbled away, horrified. He'd never wanted to kill Malfoy, no matter what he'd said to Hermione and Sydney while they were planning this mission. Malfoy wasn't Voldemort, he was no great threat to society, at least not yet, and while Azkaban had shown a certain deficiency in being able to hold him, there was nothing to indicate that would always be the case. What's more, Harry had been reliving his memories of his last battle with Voldemort for at least half of the fight. For all he knew, Malfoy had attempted to surrender and Harry hadn't noticed. However, the very nature of the unforgivable curses demanded the complete backing of the caster, usurping any arguments that Harry hadn't meant it.

Unwillingly, Harry's thought strayed to Draco. Even if he was an adult and a git, Harry had just robbed him of his father, a condition Harry knew something about. He couldn't help feeling guilty.

Harry knew that no matter how bad he felt, nothing could bring back Malfoy nor change anything that had just happened, so he finished his silent lament and stood up shakily, retrieved his wand, and left the room, his sorrow quickly being replaced by curiosity about why the Order hadn't come to his aid as he'd expected.

The scene that met his eyes was one of utter desolation. Over a dozen Death Eaters were lying on the floor or slumped against the walls. Harry couldn't tell and didn't care if they were unconscious or dead, because in the center of it all, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing over the prone form of one of the twins.

Fred or George, whichever one wasn't currently unconscious on the floor, was shaking his brother's shoulder and laughing weakly despite the tears in his eyes and saying, "Come on, quit messing around, it's over, you can wake up now."

Mr. Weasley was hovering nearby, resembling nothing so much as Hagrid after Buckbeak lost his second appeal in Harry's third year; completely lost.

Harry approached slowly, afraid that imposing himself on the scene might somehow make it even worse. Other members of the Order were scattered around, generally keeping their distance. Hermione, Sydney, Ginny, and, to Harry's relief, Ron and Michael were among them. Most of them were looking at him as though waiting for some sort of news, so Harry said, "Malfoy's dead," gesturing weakly behind him.

There was an audible sigh of relief and a few tight smiles, but they faded quickly. Since no one seemed willing to volunteer any information about what had happened, Harry decided to search it out himself.

Knowing the situation, whatever it was, required the utmost respect and tact, Harry passed by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all of whom look positively inconsolable, and made instead for Sydney and Michael.

"It's good to have you back, Michael," Harry whispered. When Michael nodded his thanks, Harry continued, gesturing to the scene behind him, "Is he going to be alright?"

A quick look passed between the Muggles, then Sydney sighed and said, "Fred's gone."

"How's that?" Harry asked uncomprehendingly. "He's right there."

"No," Sydney stammered, "I mean he's..."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, momentarily forgetting himself. He dropped his voice and continued, "Come on, it's Fred, he probably just ate a Fainting Fancy. George will have the antidote."

"Harry," Sydney whispered sternly, "do you really think that Fred would joke about something like this?"

He wasn't about to jump to conclusions, Fred joked about almost everything, but Harry turned to face the twin in question, and as he saw George give up trying to wake Fred and joined in crying with his Mother, all attempts to remember if Fred had ever expressed a desire to attend his own funeral vanished. Harry couldn't muster a response to Sydney's question so he shook his head.

"They were surrounded by Death Eaters," Michael said turning Harry back around. "We think somehow a Death Eater slipped by them and then started freeing the others. About half of them had been released by the time the rest of us made it through the barrier to stop them."

Harry believed Michael's explanation, but something didn't quite sit right about it. He knew that he had been very thorough in his search and Fred and George had probably been even more so, since they had the advantage of two sets of eyes.

It would have been far from impossible for a Death Eater to get by them, but it should have been much harder than Michael's explanation implied, especially after there was more than one Death Eater to hide.

Suddenly, exactly how a Death Eater had gotten through became painfully clear. It made Harry feel so sick that he nearly threw up, then he slumped against the wall and buried his head in his knees. He had let the Death Eaters through, and now the Weasleys were suffering the result of his negligence. When Fred and George had been captured by the Death Eaters and hanging upside down by their ankles, they'd managed to convince the group to send two of their members to go check for other members of the Order in the area, and Harry had let them go. He'd had the power to stop them, but he'd been so intent on the newfound opportunity to free the twins that he'd let the Death Eaters go! What's more, it never even occurred to him that the Death Eaters might happen upon their tied up companions and set them free. To top it all off, just when they could have used an extra hand in battle, Harry had left them to go fight Malfoy instead. Malfoy, who had no chance of escaping and was the only person in the entire Manor who wasn't causing any trouble.

This was the second time a member of the Weasley clan had put himself directly in the line of fire for Harry, and the second time Harry had repaid them by allowing the hero in question to endure increased suffering for his troubles, and the second time that Harry could have done something to prevent it but didn't.

Of all the times Harry had wished that for just a minute he could switch lives with someone, he'd never felt the desire as keenly as he did now. He could hardly stand to exist in his own body, to draw on his own memories. There could be no Fred and George with out Fred.

This had to be a dream, it just had to be. They happened so often now that it had to be possible. In a minute he'd wake up and the battle wouldn't have happened yet, or the Death Eaters wouldn't have escaped from Azkaban. Harry pointed his wand at his own chest and tried thinking one waking spell after another, but it didn't help.

"Ennervate!" Harry shouted.

Nothing happened.