Variations

Chapter 15: The Story of the Chosen One

Not for the first time in recent weeks, Harry found himself wondering what, precisely, had possessed him to take his N.E.W.T.s. They'd only decided to three weeks ago, when they'd destroyed the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes but found Voldemort himself to be quite elusive. Hermione had made an off hand suggestion about returning to Hogwarts until they discovered a lead, and idly slipped in the idea that they could take their N.E.W.T.s while they were at it. The thought had sounded laughable at first. Students usually spent years studying for their N.E.W.T.s, and, having neglected their studies over the past year for more important things, they had only a week. But, still, somehow, the idea had gotten stuck in Harry's head, and the next morning a surprisingly optimistic view had occurred to him: they couldn't fight Voldemort forever.

Maybe it was the fact that all the Horcruxes had been destroyed, but Harry couldn't help but feel that the end, whatever it was, was in sight. He knew that Ron and Hermione would stay with him until the end, but the fact remained that Voldemort was not bent on killing them. Their chances of getting out alive were much better than Harry's, and if he could give them a chance at having a normal future, like they deserved, then surely he could sit the N.E.W.T.s for their sake.

Of course, that had been three weeks and five grueling tests ago, before Harry, Hermione, and an unconvinced but outvoted Ron had returned to Hogwarts and taken to spending all hours of the day and night either in the library studying or the Great Hall taking exams. Now, if Harry could have gotten access to a Time Turner, he would gladly have gone back in time to slap some sense into his former self.

The N.E.W.T.s had been long and difficult, and Harry could scarcely remember ever feeling so exhausted, though he supposed that just because he couldn't remember something at the moment didn't mean it hadn't happened. He'd nearly forgotten to put on his shoes that morning.

Still, the N.E.W.T.s were over, which was something, at least. Harry was in Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, and though he knew they were standing outside of the Three Broomsticks, he'd been reading so much recently that he simply couldn't make sense out of the sign. When Harry had pointed out the phenomenon to Ron on their way inside for lunch, Ron had revealed that he was suffering the same effects, and they'd had quite a laugh over it. Hermione hadn't said anything, but judging by the way she kept avoiding anything that would require reading, she had similar symptoms and didn't find them nearly so amusing.

They'd spent an uncommonly good morning on an amazingly sunny Saturday exploring all the old places they used to visit in Hogsmeade. It was strange. Though Harry had left his sixth year never intending to return to school, the fact that he would not be coming back had never struck him so forcefully before he finished his N.E.W.T.s, and he knew that he'd miss it.

"Listen," Harry said to Ron and Hermione before he quite realized he'd made up his mind. They were gazing off in opposite directions, apparently looking for their next place to visit, but they were standing rather close together, just like they had been all day. "Why don't you two spend the rest of the day without me."

"What? Why?" Hermione stammered, but she edged half an inch away from Ron as she spoke. She knew why.

"We don't get days like this very often," Harry responded nevertheless. "You should enjoy it." In the way they couldn't, or wouldn't, when he was around, Harry refrained from saying.

"Are you sure, mate?" Ron asked. He knew why Harry had asked as well, but wasn't quite so adept at masking his enthusiasm for the idea.

"Yeah," Harry said. "You don't get much time to just...just spend with each other."

"Thanks Harry," Hermione agreed. She sounded reluctant, but her gratitude was unmistakable. "Let's meet back up at Zonko's in three hours and walk back to Hogwarts together, shall we?"

"Alright," Harry said, turning to go. He looked back a moment later and saw Ron and Hermione wandering off the other way, hand in hand.

Harry grinned and shook his head. They were always so careful not to act on their feelings for each other around him, but they really needn't have bothered. Harry knew what it was like, he understood, even if he couldn't have that himself.

Unfortunately, parting ways with Ron and Hermione left Harry without a way to spend his afternoon, and his commitment to meeting them at Zonko's later prevented him from simply returning to Hogwarts. He wandered instead from shop to shop with no particular destination in mind. He spoke occasionally with the students he passed, but the conversations never lasted for long. They only seemed interested in where he'd been the past school year, and usually became disappointed or angry when he said he couldn't tell them. He nearly turned and started off in the opposite direction when he spotted Colin and Dennis Creevey coming out of a nearby shop, but wasn't quite fast enough.

"Alright Harry?" Colin asked. His tendency to hero worship Harry had been tempered by years of familiarity, but he still used this greeting, mostly, Harry suspected, as a joke about his first year.

"'Lo, Colin," Harry responded in his customary way.

"Nice to get to see Hogsmeade again, isn't it?" Colin said conversationally. "And the sun."

"Sure is," Harry agreed. In his year of searching for Horcruxes he'd seen enough of the constant rain to last him a lifetime.

"I suppose you wouldn't know, but we haven't been allowed out of the castle all year," Colin continued.

"I heard," Harry replied.

"I guess the teachers were all afraid that we'd be attacked if we left. I dunno why they changed their minds now, not that I'm complaining."

"Um hum," Harry muttered noncommittally. He knew why the students had been allowed to leave, that Voldemort seemed to have disappeared. He knew it better than most.

"Oh drat," Dennis cursed unexpectedly, and it took Harry a moment to realize why: the clouds were returning and they looked ready to pour. Their sunny day was up.

"What's that?" Colin asked, drawing Harry's attention back to Earth. He followed Colin's gaze and spotted a silver shape approaching, bright against the gathering gloom.

Harry drew his wand cautiously, but he recognized the figure long before it reached him. It was a cat, silver and ethereal, a patronus, and though Harry had never received such a signal before, he knew precisely what it meant.

"Don't go back to Hogwarts," Harry said, words catching in his throat.

"What?" Colin asked.

"Stay here, find a place to hide, just keep away from the castle!" Harry yelled, for he was already running.

Rain continued to fall, but Harry ignored it as he raced on, occasionally slipping on the puddles that were already forming in the waterlogged streets. Whenever he came upon a student he'd repeat his message, he headed off Lavender and Parvati that way, but he was only searching for two people. He was beginning to grow desperate by the time he found them.

"We can't go back," Harry panted, grabbing Ron and Hermione each by the arm.

"What?" Ron asked carefully.

"Can't go back where?" Hermione said, looking worried. "Harry, what's going on?"

"I saw a cat," Harry said shakily. It was as though he'd finally stopped running long enough for his terror to catch up with him. "Coming right at me...big cat...silver...patronus cat...McGonagall's patronus."

"Harry, slow down," Hermione said, but Harry couldn't slow down, this was too important, they had to understand.

"It was a warning...a warning to stay away...Hogwarts is being attacked, we can't go back."

Harry wasn't sure how he knew the situation with such certainty, all he'd seen was a patronus, but as he told them, he was sure it was the truth.

"But if there's Death Eaters in Hogwarts, then there must be some here," Hermione maintained.

"Dementors," Harry countered, the word out before he'd even thought about it.

"What? How do you know?" Ron asked, looking worried.

"Dementors," Harry repeated, not sure what else to say. Instead, he raised his hand and pointed at Hermione's hair, which had been growing wet from the rain, but was now becoming coated with ice."

"We can't stay here," Hermione said, raising a hand to her hair.

"Sirius' cave," Harry added. It was the first place he could think of.

"Run!" Ron agreed, and as though his shout was a starting gun, they all sprinted off. A few steps later they had all cast their patronuses, which followed them in a small herd. Harry could feel the Dementors attempting to chase them, hear the last shouts of his parents echoing weakly in his ears, but the Dementors could get no closer. The patronuses were sufficient.

Harry had been so desperate for a place to hide that he'd forgotten to consider just how far it was to Sirius' cave, but their chance to change destinations had already passed and they pressed on, making it across the town, up the rocky slope, and into the cave in record time.

Water from the rain had gathered in the floor of the cave, but they did nothing to dry it up. They hardly spoke at all, hardly breathed even, though they were all out of breath from their long run. Since they knew almost nothing about the situation, they couldn't risk making any noise at all. Already soaking wet, Harry slid down to the floor of the cave and Ron and Hermione settled themselves across from him. Harry knew they were pondering the same things as him.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not here, not at Hogwarts, not after Voldemort had disappeared for two weeks, not when they were so very unprepared. Harry had meant to walk in to a battleground of his choosing, to have Voldemort be the one caught off guard, but Harry had waited too long.

A sudden movement from the other side of the cave caught Harry's attention and he looked up just in time to see Hermione give her wand a wave. A moment later the water had been cleared from the ground, the mouth of the cave sealed to prevent more from entering, and a small blue fire was burning merrily in front of them. Harry didn't have the heart to scold her for using magic. The heat from the fire was too inviting.

They sat in silence for a time, unable to think of anything to say, or, rather, how to say what they thought. Meanwhile, Harry battled with the desire to go and join in the fight and the impulse to stay where they were and wait it out, make Voldemort wait until next time, when Harry could choose his own terms. Occasionally, a bang sounded in the distance, one quite unlike the thunderclaps that they had been hearing all along.

Ron glanced at the small blue fire in the middle of the cave, then between Harry, Hermione, and the large bag of marshmallow like snacks he'd bought in Honeydukes, then back to Harry, and finally to his wand. If his companions noticed anything odd about his behavior, they didn't mention it, at least not until he pulled out a marshmallow, stuck it on the end of his wand, and made to thrust the sweet into the fire.

"Wait!"

"Stop!"

Before another second had elapsed, Hermione had grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back and Harry had pulled out his own wand, apparently ready to extinguish the fire if Ron got any closer.

Ron, however, sat back, pulled the marshmallow off his wand, and burst into fits of laughter.

"Blimey, you two really are tense."

"Give us one reason why we shouldn't be," Harry muttered, with the air of someone who knew he had been tricked. However, it was exceedingly difficult to stay angry with Ron for long, especially after he located some real sticks and passed one of them and a handful of marshmallows to each of his friends.

They might have looked like the Muggle snack, but these marshmallows were clearly magic. They changed color depending on their temperature and expanded until they were approximately the size of a human head, at which point they would explode, covering everything in a sticky mess. This happened several times, until they mastered the timing.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron's supply of marshmallows had been depleted and they all felt rather sticky inside and out, despite Hermione's best cleaning spell. Less lasting was the happy feeling that their brief break from grim reality had given them.

Feeling he could wait no longer, Harry said, "I'm going back to Hogwarts. You don't need to come with me, this isn't your battle."

Ron and Hermione looked aghast.

"Not our battle!" Hermione demanded. "How did you decide that?"

"It just isn't," Harry sighed.

"You're going to have to do better than that, mate," Ron said. "It's not like we haven't fought Death Eaters before."

"This time it's different," Harry informed them cryptically. Surely they already knew that if Harry walked in to Hogwarts, it would force a conflict between him and Voldemort.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," Hermione said, "but if you go in there we're coming too."

"Fine," Harry moaned. As much as he wanted to keep them from as much danger as he could, he was grateful for their help, even selfishly so. "But I want you to promise me something."

"What?" Ron asked.

"If I don't make it out, I want you to get out, take your parents and siblings," Harry explained. "Leave England, leave Europe, go anywhere just as long as it's far away, and be happy for awhile."

Neither seemed entirely certain of how to respond to that.

"Harry, if this is about that prophecy," Hermione started.

"So what if it is," Harry muttered.

"You told us Dumbledore said that it will only come true if you and Voldemort make it," Hermione replied.

"Well, Voldemort doesn't know that, does he," Harry pointed out. "And even if he did, you really think he'd let me live, knowing that I'm the only person who could kill him, especially now that we've destroyed all his Horcruxes?"

"No one's suffered more at Voldemort's hands," Hermione said, "but that doesn't mean you should go in there looking for a fight. McGonagall sent you that warning so you would stay away."

"McGonagall sent me that warning so I would know what was happening and make my own decision," Harry countered. "I'm going to go in there and fight with everything I have, and there's a good chance I won't live to tell about it, but if I don't try then this is never going to stop."

"Harry, you're going in there, that's fine, but we're coming with you whether you like it or not," Ron said forcefully.

"We've come with you this far, Harry," Hermione added. "This is hardly the time to back out."

Harry wanted to ask them once more to stay behind and not put themselves in jeopardy for his sake, but he knew it was no use. Instead he said, "Can we go then?"

The Shrieking Shack was closest, so they extinguished the fire, unsealed the entrance to the cave, and left. Fortunately, the Dementors had moved off. Though the rain was still pouring down and the Dementors seemed to have stolen all the remaining light, they could still just barely make out the village of Hogsmeade, but they could tell that most of the Dementors seemed to have gathered there. Harry nearly forgot himself as he watched, nearly drifted off in the wrong direction to try and help the village, but Hermione caught his eye and he mastered himself. They had bigger concerns.

They reached the Shrieking Shack and found that it had already been broken into, which struck Harry as a bad sign, but none of them commented on it as they made their way into the Shack, through the tunnel, past the Whomping Willow, and onto the grounds.

The Dementors in Hogsmeade had been a distraction for other people, and Harry knew it. Voldemort had never really bothered with trying to attack Harry with those creatures, even though they were the best assassins. After all, Harry had proven himself able to fend off a horde of them in his third year, and Hermione's otter patronus was a right old spitfire when the occasion called for it, as was Ron's Jack Russell terrier. At any rate, this foresight on the part of Voldemort made itself manifest in a huge annoyance for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with proportionally large teeth and claws.

"That is one big lion," Ron said, awed, as they squinted up at the behemoth. Likewise, it gazed down at them, standing impassively between them and Hogwarts, waiting for the wizards to make the first move. The pouring rain gathered in its matted fur and slid down to the ground in front of them, upsetting and adding to the puddles already there.

"I'm not so sure that's a lion," Hermione replied, attempting to get a better look at it despite the pouring rain and dim light.

"Well, at any rate, it doesn't look like it's going to let us pass," Ron sighed. "Any thoughts?"

"Creatures this big are typically impervious to magic," Hermione pointed out. She looked mildly concerned. "What do you think, Harry?"

"How'd it get here?" was what Harry meant to say, and how he meant it to sound, but he failed in the latter respect as the words instead came out as croaking hisses.

All three wizards jumped in surprise at the unexpected noise.

Ron recovered first. "I thought you couldn't speak Parsletongue unless you were actually talking to a snake."

Harry concentrated for a moment then said, "I can't," grateful that this time the words came out in English.

The answer to that particular mystery was soon solved, as a giant snake came into view, flicking its tongue at them. At first glance, it looked as though the snake had merely caught a ride on the lion's back, but a sudden flash of lighting revealed not only that the snake in fact made up the lion's tail, but that the creature was also sporting another head, that of a goat, which seemed to protrude oddly from its back.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered.

That seemed to sum up the situation very well as the trio stood, aghast, staring into the three faces of a Chimera, one of the most fearsome beasts known to wizard kind.

"Hermione," Ron said squeakily. "A brilliant solution would be nice right about now."

"I'm thinking!" Hermione yelped.

In the meantime, Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and hissed at the snake, "We don't want to hurt you."

"You're friends' actions suggest otherwise," all three heads replied simultaneously, creating an eerie echoing sound.

"We just want to get to the castle," Harry said. "We'll only fight in self defense." He aimed a significant look at his friends as he said this, although he couldn't tell if they actually understood him, as he was unsure whether he'd been speaking English or Parsletongue at the time.

"But we are so very hungry," the Chimera replied, "and you came so easily into our presence."

"We won't allow ourselves to be eaten," Harry gulped. "If you just let us go on our way then none of us will get hurt."

However, the Chimera seemed to have had enough of talking and had set about making itself as menacing as possible by bearing its combined teeth, although little effort toward its desired end was actually required.

"Hermione, do you have anything yet?" Harry asked desperately.

She shook her head despairingly. One look from Ron told Harry that he hadn't had any more luck.

"Spells will bounce right off him," Hermione explained hopelessly. "They're kind of like dragons that way."

That was all Harry needed to hear to come up with a plan, but the Chimera lunged at them before he got the chance to do anything about it. Ron tackled Hermione out of the way as the lion and goat's heads snapped at them and Harry nimbly sidestepped the snake.

For a moment, the Chimera seemed satisfied with stalking Ron and Hermione, who were scrambling to extricate themselves from the tangled pile they'd somehow gotten into. Harry took the opportunity to summon his broom from the broom shed and used the interceding time to throw whatever he could get his hands on at the beast while simultaneously sending conjunctivitis curses in its direction, although neither seemed to have much effect.

Not a moment too soon, his Firebolt came soaring up and halted next to him. He mounted it and kicked off from the ground and proceeded to try and distract the Chimera in much the same way he had the Hungarian Horntail in his fourth year, but with much less success. It seemed as though the Chimera was perfectly satisfied with leaving the snake head to snap at Harry and keep him at bay while the lion and goat heads continued to threaten Ron and Hermione.

The two on the ground had regained their footing by now, and were shooting off whatever spells they thought might help, but they too were proven ineffective. Everything seemed to slide off the creature's hide. Even a coordinated attack with stunning spells only resulted in a brief lapse in energy on the part of the Chimera. It soon became clear that, barring any unforeseen brilliant ideas, they wouldn't be able to slay this nemesis. Escape seemed to be the only viable option, difficult and risky as it was. There would be no outrunning the Chimera on foot, and even though Harry had his Firebolt, pulling out Ron and Hermione with it would be difficult at best and suicide at worst, especially since there would be no time for the two of them to mount the broom properly. Harry would have to carry them both.

Equally impossible was the option of carrying them to safety one at a time, as whoever was left behind would almost surely die before Harry could come back for him or her, and Harry couldn't make that choice, let alone live with it afterwards. His mind made up, Harry pocketed his wand and began to plan his attack. Unfortunately, he was unable to convey his idea to his friends: not only did he suspect that the Chimera would be able to thwart any plan if it had sufficient warning, but he could not guarantee that he would speak in English with the snake around. Therefore, it was lucky that Ron and Hermione figured out what he was doing and raised their hands up for him to grab a split second before he needed them to.

The extra weight forced Harry's chest onto his broom for support, compromising his ability to steer and he just barely managed to avoid crashing into the ground in the first few seconds of flight. Even after he recovered from that and became accustomed to working with the extra weight, gaining altitude proved to be a problem, the best he could do left Ron's toes just barely clearing the grass. Observing this, Hermione performed a spell on the two of them, making them lighter, which helped a little.

By now the Chimera had figured out what had become of its quarry and set off in pursuit. Fortunately it was no match for a Firebolt, even grossly over laden as it was. Harry flew Ron and Hermione to one of Hogwarts' second floor balconies then set off to head the Chimera back into the forest. He resembled nothing so much as an overly large fly, buzzing annoyingly around the creature's three heads. The beast took the bait this time and followed Harry, swatting and biting at him menacingly from three different directions. At long last, they reached the tree line and Harry shot off into the forest, the Chimera on his heels. The beast gained on him slowly, since Harry had to negotiate a route between the trees while the Chimera mostly just crashed through them. He was beginning to decide that wherever they were would have to be far enough and hoped the Chimera wouldn't have enough sense to navigate its way back out of the forest when he saw something he'd really hoped he would be able to avoid: a centaur, Bane, to be specific.

"What have you done?" Bane asked, just before shooting an arrow at the Chimera.

Harry saved himself the need to fabricate an explanation by flying up out of the dense forest and into the night sky. After a momentary battle with his conscience, Harry decided that the centaurs had always been able to handle themselves in the past and there was little he could have done at that point to help them anyway. Nevertheless, he did feel miserable for bringing this Chimera to the centaurs' doorstep then abandoning them with it, but he had a more important task at had.

That decided, Harry made his way to the balcony where he'd left Ron and Hermione. By the time he got there they had already checked each other for injuries and were anxiously awaiting his return. After he landed Harry realized how scratched and ragged he looked and how exhausted he felt, no longer in the top fighting form he had been in only a few minutes earlier. Harry stumbled inside then sank to the ground and allowed himself a brief minute's respite while Hermione dried off his robes then sought out and tended to the deepest scratches.

"Are you alright?" she asked urgently.

"Fine," Harry replied, shaking her off. "What about you, it didn't bite you, did it?"

"We're alright," Hermione said.

"Thanks for rescuing us," Ron added.

"Don't mention it," Harry replied, setting his Firebolt aside, standing up, and turning to go.

They advanced a few meters, heading toward the Entrance Hall, which their hallway overlooked, but they soon had a reason to stop.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry couldn't tell where the spell had come from, nor where it was directed, but in that moment he didn't care, he wasn't about to die within five minutes of arriving in Hogwarts, so he merely dragged Ron and Hermione behind the nearest suit of armor. After thirty seconds he judged that they spell must have run its course and made to move back into the open. However, before Harry had cleared the suit of armor, Ron pulled him back down and stepped out himself, tense and cringing. When a few seconds had passed and he still hadn't met his doom, he opened first one eye and then the other, finally relaxing when he saw that the hallway was empty. Harry and Hermione carefully extricated themselves and joined their companion.

"You didn't have to do that, mate," Harry informed him.

"Yeah, I did," Ron replied simply.

"Well, thanks," Harry said as Hermione grabbed his arm suddenly. "What's wrong?"

Apparently at a loss for words, Hermione merely pointed in the direction of the banister that overlooked the Entrance Hall. At first it was unclear exactly what had so disturbed her, then there was a sudden shout and the walls and ceiling around the entrance hall momentarily adopted a green glow.

"Oh no," Harry gasped, rushing to the balcony. Caution only returned to him in the last few steps.

Below, a small group of teachers, Aurors and Order members were attempting to defend the stairs and other points of access to the rest of the school against an encroaching pack of Death Eaters. Unfortunately, the defender's disadvantage seemed grave. They were not only outnumbered, but Mad-eye Moody and a limited number or Aurors seemed to be the only ones willing to return the Death Eaters' green fire in kind.

"We have to help them," Ron said, carefully aiming his wand at the nearest Death Eater.

"We can't," Harry cried, pushing his arm down.

"Well, what do you expect us to do? I'm not going to stand here and watch a massacre," Ron replied. "They don't know we're up here. We could pick them off one by one."

"And you don't think they'll notice?" Harry demanded. "Within thirty seconds every Death Eater in the castle will know where we are."

"Wait," Ron said. "How many do you think are here?"

"When Voldemort was resurrected there were almost thirty in his inner circle alone and all of them and everyone they know are bound to be here," Harry replied. "I thought we just proved that the front door isn't the only way into this castle."

"Mr. Potter is correct," said a voice from behind them.

The three wizards spun around, wands raised. They couldn't possibly have heard what they thought they had. He was dead.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione yelped, her eyes falling on a nearby picture. Its usual occupants looked like they were trying very hard not to complain about being crowded out by the former headmaster

"I thought I might be seeing you three here," Dumbledore replied.

"This is my battle," Harry said.

He'd expected Dumbledore to greet the statement with some prepared speech about how he was not yet ready, that the prophecy could wait, but he merely smiled sadly and said, "So it is."

Harry was too busy trying to comprehend this sudden reversal to reply right away, so Hermione asked, "Can you tell us anything about where the Death Eaters are, or how many are here?"

"Unfortunately, any information I have is now almost ten minutes old and thus hardly accurate. I can tell you this, however. If Voldemort is here, he has yet to make his presence known, but I believe you have the tools necessary to determine his location, Mr. Potter."

"Great," Harry muttered. He'd been worried that the Marauder's Map might be necessary; he'd foolishly left it in his dormitory and the Gryffindor tower was a significant and risky detour

"I don't need to tell you how dangerous these men are," Dumbledore said quietly, beckoning for them to gather around his borrowed picture, "but I would be negligent if I didn't remind you to be careful and look out for each other. Keep hidden and avoid the Death Eaters if you can. I believe you have a tool that can help with that as well, Harry."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, grateful that he'd at least had the foresight to bring his invisibility cloak along on the trip to Hogsmeade.

"Since I suppose you will be headed in that direction anyway," Dumbledore continued, "the students were sent to their dormitories as soon as the first Death Eaters were spotted, and the ghosts have been giving Professor McGonagall regular reports on their well being, but I have been rather worried about them, those in Gryffindor especially. I fear it will be difficult to keep them from being drawn into this conflict."

"We'll check on them, Professor," Hermione assured him.

"I suppose that's all, then," Dumbledore sighed. "The best of luck to you all."

"You too, Professor," came the general reply as the three young wizards started off.

"Oh, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, calling the two of them back while Harry continued to the banister. "You do know-"

"That this is Harry's fight and not ours?" Hermione finished. "Yeah."

"And you know why?" Dumbledore continued.

"Yes," Ron replied.

"And you realize it would be much safer for the both of you-"

"With all due respect, sir," Hermione interrupted, "Harry tried to tell us the same thing and we didn't listen to him either."

"In that case..." Dumbledore started.

"Look out for him," Ron said. "We know."

Dumbledore gave them a silent nod and a smile, then backed away from the picture frame, inviting them to continue on. Ron and Hermione joined Harry by the banister. The battle had ended and the floor below was scattered with random bodies, stunned or dead, Auror and Death Eater alike.

"Come on, mate, let's go," Ron urged him.

Harry, however, was not to be moved for the moment. "We could have helped them, we had the high ground, they didn't have to die."

"No we couldn't, Harry," Hermione replied. "You said so yourself, we would've given away our position. We have to focus on finding Voldemort."

"But we could have helped them!" Harry cried.

"Harry, there's nothing we can do anymore."

"We've got to go, Harry."

"Alright," Harry snapped reluctantly. He pulled his cloak out of his pocket, shook it open, and threw it over the three of them.

They'd long since outgrown the cloak when they wore it together, but it was so useful that they didn't let that stop them, it just required a bit of maneuvering that left them quite grateful that they couldn't be seen. Stairs, however, had grown increasingly difficult to navigate, especially for Ron, who was so tall that the cloak only barely covered him when he wore it alone and had to hunch over very far when Harry and Hermione were underneath with him. They were constantly getting in the way of each other's feet, but rapidly fell into a rhythm that carried them up several flights of stairs and past many small skirmishes undetected. In fact, they didn't run into any trouble at all until they turned a corner to mount the staircase to the sixth floor and found a group of Death Eaters blocking their path.

"Five," Harry whispered, when they'd slipped back around the corner.

"We can't go around," Hermione pointed out desperately. "It would take too long."

"We'll just have to fight them," Harry replied. Ron and Hermione nodded gamely.

Bunching together, they crept out from behind their cover and made their way as far up the staircase as they could without alerting the Death Eaters. Then, after a silent count of three, Hermione whipped the invisibility cloak off of them and Harry and Ron leapt at the Death Eaters, with Hermione following shortly afterward. However, something happened that they did not expect. One of the Death Eaters, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange, took one look at them and immediately cursed one of the other Death Eaters. He crumpled into a heap and rolled down the stairs.

A year ago, Harry, Ron, and Hermione might have shown their surprise, dropped their guard, and lost the battle, but their time searching out the Horcruxes had taught them to use any advantage they could and sort out where it came from later.

"Get out of here!" the woman yelled as she dueled with another Death Eater.

Ron and Hermione needed no second bidding and they dragged Harry along with them as they made their way up the stairs.

"Why did she do that?" Harry gasped as soon as they were safely on the next floor and underneath the invisibility cloak. "Betray the other Death Eaters, like that?"

"It was Tonks," Ron replied matter of factly.

"It was?" Harry demanded.

"It's the only explanation," Hermione agreed.

"She got one and I got one," Harry continued quickly. "Did either of you get your Death Eaters?"

"Not quite," Ron admitted. Hermione simply shook her head.

"Then she's outnumbered down there," Harry exclaimed, and he would have slipped out from under the invisibility cloak and rejoined the fight if Ron and Hermione hadn't stopped him.

"She's an Auror, she can handle herself," Ron replied.

"We're right here, we can help her," Harry pointed out.

"She told us to go," Hermione said. "We're wasting time arguing about this. We need to focus on getting the Marauder's Map so we can find Voldemort."

Harry took one last reluctant look at the stairs they'd just left, but Ron tightened his grip on Harry's arm and he relented. They reached the seventh floor without any further incident, but got held up at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who refused to let them in no matter how many passwords they had.

"Please!" Harry begged, as they slipped out from under the cloak. She'd just refused to open even though Hermione had recited every password from their sixth year. "It's very important that we get inside. We're on orders from Dumbledore."

"I'm on orders from Headmistress McGonagall," the Fat Lady said, and Harry knew that she'd purposefully emphasized who was now head of the school. "There's simply no telling whether or not you're Death Eaters in disguise, especially since you should already be inside."

"I suppose it wouldn't help if I told you that Sirius Black slashed up your picture while we were all at the Halloween feast during our third year because you wouldn't let him inside," Harry offered hopelessly.

"It most certainly would not," the Fat Lady cried indignantly.

"Your best friend's name is Violet," Harry tried.

"Everyone knows that!" the Fat Lady exclaimed.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Harry muttered.

"No."

"Fairy Lights."

"No."

"Balderdash."

"I will not be letting you in to this tower."

"Come on, you've known us for years."

The Fat Lady's retort was interrupted by a loud sound from behind Harry. He turned around, wand ready, just in time to see Peeves soar away. Harry was about to redouble his efforts with the Fat Lady when his gaze fell back to their hallway and he found a Death Eater standing there, not five meters away, staring blankly in their direction, the usual mark of someone who'd just had his memory modified.

"You did that?" Ron asked, mystified, turning to Hermione, who still had her wand raised at pointed at the Death Eater.

Hermione didn't get a chance to respond, for at that moment the Death Eater's eyes slid back into focus.

"What happened?" he asked, turning to them.

"You didn't just wipe his memory, did you?" Ron whispered, awestruck. "You modified it."

Looking confused, the Death Eater ran a hand through his hair and immediately spotted his tattoo of the Dark Mark. "What happened?" he repeated. "Where did I get this?"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, rushing up to him. "Sorry I had to do that, McGonagall's probably going to kill me, but no one ever told us the keyword and I couldn't just let you capture us, could I?"

Harry blinked, wondering what on Earth Hermione was talking about. He exchanged a look with Ron and knew that he was feeling the same way.

"Sorry," the Death Eater stammered, "but what keyword?"

"Oh, right, I suppose you wouldn't know," Hermione said with a laugh, but it sounded forced to Harry. "The mind's a funny thing that way. Dumbledore did something to your memory so you wouldn't remember unless someone told you the keyword. Then you'd make your reports about what Voldemort is doing, someone would tell you another keyword to make you forget again, and you'd go back to the Death Eaters like nothing ever happened. You've been very helpful over the years."

"Oh," the Death Eater sighed. He seemed to accept Hermione's story, but Harry did not. He'd seen enough of her to know when she was lying.

"Does any of this sound familiar?" Hermione asked.

"Did I volunteer for this?" the Death Eater asked, shaking his head.

"Oh dear," Hermione moaned, but Harry could hear the falseness in her tone. "I must have done a worse job than I thought. It wasn't ever supposed to happen like this, I'm-"

"Nott!"

The shout came from some distance away, but still far too close for comfort.

"Nott, is that me?" the Death Eater asked as they slipped into a shadowy corner to hide.

"Yeah, that's you," Hermione replied after taking a moment to consider.

"Then they're probably going to come this way looking for me," Nott said. "Listen, I'll go distract them, you three do what you need to do."

"No, wait," Hermione yelped. "If they find out what's really been going on..." She suddenly seemed rather attached, considering that she'd modified the man's memory to keep him from capturing them.

"I know," Nott replied. "But I guess it's what I'm for. Thanks for telling me the truth."

Nott turned and ran off in the direction of the shout. As soon as he was gone, Ron demanded, "How did you come up with all that?"

"I don't know," Hermione said with a shrug. "I might have seen something like that in a Muggle movie when I was a kid."

Ron seemed not to understand, but Harry thought it was a plausible explanation and decided not to press the issue. Instead, he turned back to the portrait of the Fat Lady and asked, "Are you convinced we're not working for the Death Eaters now?"

"Yes, yes, alright, come on," she relented, clicking open.

Harry was about to climb gratefully into the portrait hole when Hermione called him back.

"We should probably stay out here, just in case I didn't do as good of a job on him as I thought," she said. Ron nodded.

"Alright," Harry agreed. "I won't be long, but take the cloak."

He passed the cloak over and slipped inside. The first thing he noticed was the many faces staring up at him with looks ranging from utter terror to strangled relief. One thing they all had in common though, was panic, and it seemed to paralyze each and every one of them in a way no full body bind could. A sudden flash of lightning lit up the dark and rainy sky and a thunder clap sounded a moment later. A few students jumped at the noise but the rest seemed beyond even that. Luckily, someone had the faculty of mind to set up barricades around the fireplace and portrait hole, the latter of which Harry nearly tripped over, but neither position was being defended. As Harry looked at his peers, all thoughts of getting the Marauder's Map quickly then leaving were banished from his mind. He couldn't leave them like this.

Ginny was the first among the huddled mass to recover and step forward. Neville, Dean, and Seamus came up a moment later.

"What's happening?" she asked desperately, clearly trying to subdue her panic. "McGonagall announced that we should lock ourselves in our houses as quickly as possible, but that was over an hour ago, we haven't heard anything else since."

"Voldemort's attacking Hogwarts," Harry replied quietly as Neville, Seamus, and Dean came up to hear what Harry had to say. "He's somewhere in the castle. The Order, the Aurors, Ron, Hermione, and I are looking for him, but the Death Eaters are giving us trouble."

"Why would You-Know-Who come here?" Neville asked. "Is he looking for something?"

"Yes," Harry sighed. He hadn't wanted to divulge this particular bit of information to Ron and Hermione nearly two years ago and hadn't told anyone else since, so no one here knew about the prophecy, and there was insufficient time to explain it now. "We think he's looking for me."

"Why you?" Seamus asked predictably.

"That's complicated," Harry replied. "The point is that I can't stay here much longer without putting you all in danger." He raised his voice now and addressed the entire group.

"Listen up. You all deserve to know that Hogwarts is currently being attacked by some very bad wizards." He winced at his own dismal euphemism and observed similar sentiments in the older students. "Does anyone have any floo powder?"

Several people brightened up at the possibility, but they were denied this simple solution; no one had any.

"Alright," Harry sighed. "The Fat Lady should be able to stop anyone who shouldn't be in here, but we have to make sure this place can be well defended, just in case. It would be best if first, second, and third years go lock themselves in the dormitories, the girls' side if the boys can make it up there, since the staircase will hinder most of the Death Eaters. Should anything go wrong up there, third years, you'll be in charge of defending the younger students. Everyone else, it's your task to make sure they don't have to by stopping any intruders before they have a chance to get upstairs. Should it come down to it, Fred and George's fireworks make an excellent distraction. There's a stash of them in the seventh year boys' dormitory."

Harry had expected his peers to act on his suggestions right away. After all, they made sense and were for the greater good, but in general they seemed more petrified than when he first came in. Harry sighed, knowing only one way to bolster them.

"Come on you lot. We're Gryffindors, famed for our bravery. Each and every one of you was put into this house for a reason. The sorting hat saw courage in you, live up to it! Tonight we are all in danger, and tonight we may all be called upon in this battle. I know you're afraid, I know you don't want to fight, but if it comes down to it, you will have the choice to give up or to strike back. You can't give up. Together, you can face anything that comes through that portrait; all you need is to be ready for it."

Harry paused, unsure of what to say next. An uncomfortable silence ensued until someone asked, "What about the students in other houses?"

Harry couldn't resist a smile, that was much more like it, even though the answer was difficult.

"Unfortunately, without their passwords there's nothing I can do for them, but if I see anyone I'll remind them to check on their houses. Now then, first, second, and third years upstairs, everyone else down here. DA members should stay in charge here..." he noticed the several dirty looks he was getting and struggled with himself momentarily before relenting and said, "...or, if you're willing, you can come out and help."

Harry watched gratefully as his peers began organizing themselves according to his suggestions and could hardly suppress a wave of pride and gratitude as every member of the DA in his house moved to join him at the foot of the portrait hole.

"We're with you, Harry," Ginny said from next to him. The rest of the DA nodded their agreement.

"Alright," Harry said, slightly taken aback. "I just need the Marauder's Map; I'll be back in a minute."

Harry dashed upstairs, pulled the Map from his trunk, and ran back down to the Common Room again. When he got there, the room had been transformed. The older students were crouched behind their barricades and the younger students had already scrambled up to the girls' dormitories.

"I guess we're ready, then," Harry said to the DA.

They slipped back out through the portrait hole and met up with Ron and Hermione, who ducked out from under the invisibility cloak and looked surprised to see that Harry had brought along so many people.

"They wanted to help," Harry offered with a shrug.

"I'm not sure how much use this is going to be, then," Ron replied, handing Harry the cloak. "There's no way we'll all fit under there."

"I guess not," Harry said, pocketing the cloak. He hadn't thought of that, but it wouldn't be fair for some of them to go invisible and the rest not to.

"Listen, Harry, why don't Seamus and I go and see and see if we can check on the other houses," Dean suggested, catching Harry off guard. "We've got some friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and we know where their common rooms are."

Harry gave Dean and Seamus a searching look. Neither one of them had been there at the battle in the Department of Mysteries; they'd never been in a battle at all. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into, volunteering to go off by themselves, but they seemed eager, and surely wherever they might end up would be less dangerous than his destination.

"Alright, if you're sure," Harry finally relented. "Be careful, though."

Dean and Seamus nodded and left and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville slipped into the nearest secret passageway to consult the Marauder's Map, looking for Voldemort. It was five minutes before Hermione finally spotted a small dot labeled Tom Riddle on the second floor.

They worked out a route that would avoid the groups of Death Eaters in the castle and started off. However, only a short distance away they came upon a horrible sight. Nott, the Death Eater who'd had his memory modified, was there, and he was dead.

"The other Death Eaters must have noticed that something was different about him," Harry guessed, watching Hermione carefully. She seemed rooted to the spot and Ron had to take her arm and guide her past the scene.

Still more trouble arose on the fourth floor. Ginny, who'd taken over keeping an eye on the map for Hermione, motioned them all behind a large tapestry.

"What's go-" Ron began, but Ginny silenced him by throwing an arm across his face.

Ron's question was quickly answered anyway. Harry peered carefully out from behind the tapestry and saw Bellatrix Lestrange stalking toward them. Unfortunately, he was not the only person to spot her.

"Neville, where are you going?" Hermione whispered urgently as Neville slipped out from behind the tapestry and pointed his wand at the Death Eater.

"Ah! Ickle Longbottom." Bellatrix cooed. "I wondered if I'd be seeing you here."

"Neville!" Harry cried, ducking out from behind the tapestry himself. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Do you?" Neville yelled back.

It was a question of complexity beyond anything Harry had been prepared for. Of course he wanted Bellatrix dead, or at least unable to cause anyone else harm, but he didn't want to be the one who put her that way, and he hoped that Neville didn't want to either. Still, if anyone was going to decide what should be done with her, it ought to be Neville, who'd suffered the most because of her handiwork.

Neville took Harry's silence as a no and refocused his entire attention on Bellatrix.

The Death Eater laughed. "Even little Harry Potter is afraid to face me, but you think you can do it alone? This should be entertaining."

As she was speaking, Neville pointed his wand at the suit of armor behind her. Misjudging where he'd aimed, Bellatrix leapt unnecessarily out of the way, but laughed even harder when she saw the result of Neville's attempt. His transfiguration had always been somewhat substandard, so his idea in someone else's hands might have been exactly what was needed to win the battle. However, as it was, it resulted only in a suit of armor which drew a sword and half heartedly raised it to attack Bellatrix before losing its purpose and freezing in place.

"Oh, brilliant distraction," Bellatrix cooed. "I'll be sure to watch out for that."

Without any further warning, Bellatrix brought her wand up and performed the same slashing spell that had incapacitated Hermione during the battle in the Department of Mysteries.

"Protego!" Neville yelped, stumbling backward as the purple spell overtook him.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny rushed forward, but before they were close enough to be of any help, Neville regained his footing and held up a hand, asking them to stay back. His other arm was occupied with clutching at his ribs. Apparently his shield charm hadn't been entirely effective.

He straightened up and faced Bellatrix, somehow looking even more determined than he had before.

"Eager for more?" Bellatrix asked, laughing shrilly. "I'll see what I can do, then."

A spell erupted from her wand before she'd even finished speaking, but Neville was ready for it this time and jumped out of the way, sending a curse back at his opponent.

It became immediately clear that any extended battle between Neville and Bellatrix could only end in favor of the Death Eater. Already, Neville's supply of advanced spells had been proven ineffective against his powerful opponent and he was reduced to trying to catch her off guard with the more basic ones.

Just as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had decided to ignore their friend's requests and join the fight, Neville finally landed a knockback jinx on Bellatrix.

She tripped backwards into the suit of armor which Neville had attempted to transfigure and, consequently, directly into its sword, which impaled her through the stomach.

Bellatrix glanced down at the bloody sword which was now extending out from her midriff, but instead of looking surprised or horrified or even in pain, she threw her head back and laughed. It was sickening, watching her revel in the irony of her own undoing even as blood dripped from her torso and mouth.

Then Bellatrix did something no one anticipated- she raised her wand, pointed it at Neville, and shouted, "Cruc-!"

"Stupefy!" Neville replied, cutting her off.

Bellatrix immediately went slack and fell to the side, pulling the suit of armor down on top of her.

Neville didn't move as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny took Bellatrix's wand and tied her in ropes, just in case she managed to wake up.

"Neville, are you okay?" Harry asked carefully. The wizard in question seemed to be in shock: he hadn't even lowered his wand.

For a moment it looked like Neville hadn't heard Harry, then he said, "I wonder if they'll be alright now."

"Who?" Harry asked. The only 'they' he could think of were the Death Eaters, but that didn't make much sense in the context of Neville's statement.

"My parents," Neville replied hopefully, finally turning to face Harry. "After a wizard dies the spells they've cast disappear."

"Oh," Harry sighed, finding himself suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with Neville. He knew that wizards can't maintain their spells after death; he'd discovered that when Dumbledore died, but there was a radical difference between a freezing charm and insanity caused by being tortured with the Cruciatus curse. However, Harry couldn't stand the idea of crushing Neville's hopes so soon after he'd found them, especially since he didn't know for sure, so he said sadly, "Maybe they will."

"We've got to keep going," Harry said after a moment.

"Alright," Neville replied gamely, but his legs seemed unwilling to obey his commands: he took one step and tripped over his numb feet. Harry had to catch him and lower him to the ground. Now that he was there, Neville looked like he never wanted to stand up again.

"You three go on," Ginny offered immediately. "I'll take him back up to the common room. It'll be safe there. I'll find you lot afterwards."

"Alright," Harry agreed rapidly, eager to see her out of this conflict, "but take the Marauder's Map, it'll help you find us."

"You need it more than I do," Ginny protested.

"Ginny, please," Harry begged. Ginny glanced up at him, looking surprise, and they held each other's gaze for a moment.

"Oh. All right," Ginny relented, handing the map to Hermione, who gave it one last perusal before giving it back.

They parted ways, Ginny staggering upstairs under Neville's weight and Harry, Ron, and Hermione striding in the opposite direction, unencumbered. Now without the Marauder's Map, they were reduced to following a horrible trail of bodies and ruined statues. Fifteen minutes later it led them at last to a likely looking staircase. Its banister looked like it had received several spells and entire steps were missing. They were half way down to the third floor when they heard a horrible voice.

"You have betrayed me."

It echoed so much that they had no hope of determining where it had come from, but for Harry there was no mistaking the speaker. They crouched down against the crumbling banister, even though they knew that it wasn't a very good hiding place at all.

Another voice replied, "No, Master."

This voice too was sorely familiar.

"That's Snape!" Harry exclaimed, making to stand up and rush forward.

"Stop!" Ron and Hermione hissed, pulling him down.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Harry said. "Snape killed Dumbledore!"

"Harry, at least wear your cloak," Hermione pleaded, grabbing his arm to prevent him from standing up.

"I want him to be able to see me when I kill him," Harry replied as loudly as he dared.

"We can't go after them both," Hermione said.

"We can when there are three of us and two of them," Harry replied.

"Think about it, Harry," Hermione said. "We don't know that there aren't any other Death Eaters over there."

"They're both much more powerful wizards than us," Ron pointed out.

"Do not think I cannot tell you are lying," Voldemort sneered. "It does not matter how accomplished you think you are at Occlumens, the Dark Lord always knows."

"I assure you, Master," Snape continued.

"And yet you persist in feeding me lies," Voldemort said. "I know your loyalty has been to Dumbledore since before my powers broke at the hands of that Potter. I know you have been passing information to the Order of the Phoenix for the past three years and yet you still maintain the illusion of servility to me. But I have been feeding you lies as well. Don't look so surprised, why shouldn't I have pressed my advantage? You have been giving false information to the Order all this time. Why else would everyone assure you that we were staying in Albania if we were about to attack here?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at each other, struggling to comprehend what they'd just heard.

There was a pause, then the second voice said, "You will not succeed, the Order will stop you."

"I doubt it," Voldemort replied, "but I suppose I must wait and see. You, however, will not be given that pleasure. Your usefulness has run out, and you will now greet the same fate that meets all who betray me. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione winced as a body audibly slumped to the floor and Voldemort stalked away. After the footsteps faded, they pulled on the invisibility cloak and made their way down the rest of the stairs then turned a corner to where the discussion had taken place, already suspecting what they'd see. Sure enough, black robed, sallow skinned, greasy haired Professor Snape was lying in a heap in front of them. All three were stunned. The person they had suspected more than any other of betraying Dumbledore's trust had died proclaiming his belief that Harry and the Order would prevail.

Feeling deeply unsettled, Harry led the way as they followed two Death Eaters who had hung behind when Voldemort left. They carried on following the Death Eaters until it was obvious that their quarry was either completely lost or hadn't had a destination in mind in the first place. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took to wandering, hoping to find some indication of where to go next. At last, they happened to glance down to an intersection of two hallways, where no less than five Death Eaters were standing.

"It looks like they're guarding something," Harry said.

"Sure does," Hermione agreed.

After only a few moments of discussion, they pulled off the invisibility cloak and set off in opposite directions, intending to attack the Death Eaters from three sides. When their agreed time arrived, Harry and Ron sprung into action, but Hermione did not. Though confused and a bit distracted by her absence, Harry and Ron used their surprise to its full advantage and made quick work of the Death Eaters.

"Where'd she go?" Ron asked, concerned, as he tied the last Death Eater in ropes.

"I don't know," Harry replied, setting off down the hallway Hermione should have arrived through.

Someone had extinguished the lights there, so they lit their wands but still found no sign of her. Growing worried, Harry and Ron began checking inside classrooms and closets as they passed them. In the fifth, they found a Death Eater pointing his wand at the ceiling. They didn't have a chance to find out his interest in the roof, because he ran off through a second door the moment he spotted them. Harry and Ron gave chase, but a few minutes later they lost him and returned the way they came. When they returned to the classroom they were surprised to find Hermione there.

"You dueled him?" Ron asked after taking a moment to consider. It would have explained her current state: her nose was broken and bleeding and her forehead sported a large gash.

Hermione didn't respond, she just looked shocked.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, eying her suspiciously.

"Yeah, I think so," Hermione replied, slowly coming out of her daze. Her inflection didn't quite line up with how Harry had expected her to respond, but he didn't have time to wonder why.

"Nice duel," he continued. "Are you alright to keep going?"

"Let's go," Hermione said, and for that, at least, she seemed genuinely eager.

They slipped back under the invisibility cloak and made their way back to the scene of Harry and Ron's battle, which, luckily, hadn't changed since they left it. They didn't make it very far, however, before something came crashing into them, knocking them to the ground. The invisibility cloak fluttered up over their heads, revealing them to their assailant, although, apparently, he didn't need to see them to find them.

This was followed by a brief disagreement concerning what to do next. Harry leapt to his feet, wand raised, facing Fenrir Greyback, while Hermione scrambled back under the cloak and pulled Ron under with her.

Bravely, Harry maintained his ground even after the snarling Greyback developed a very hungry look in his eye. However, before either of them got the opportunity to mount an attack, Greyback was suddenly tackled to the ground. Peter Pettigrew was holding him to the floor and looking as though he was quite certain that he had finally lost his mind.

A moment later, Lupin came running into the fray, yelling, "Harry! Hide!"

Before Harry had decided whether this statement ought to be ignored entirely or warranted an indignant rebuttal, Ron and Hermione had shuffled forward and thrown the cloak over him as well. After that he was forcibly prevented from rejoining the battle.

It didn't take long at all for Greyback to toss Pettigrew aside and regain his feet, but by that time Lupin was already upon him. A cutting spell grazed Greyback's shoulder, but since the werewolf's wand was nowhere in sight, Lupin seemed reluctant to press such an unfair advantage.

Slowly, Greyback reached up and ran his hand over his wound, then gazed that the blood covering his fingers with mild interest. "So, Remus, this is how you repay me."

"I am not in your debt," Lupin spat, tightening his grip on his wand.

"You owe me your existence," Greyback growled. "I made you who you are."

"You made me an outcast," Lupin replied. "I'm not about to thank you for it."

"After all these years you have yet to realize that I made you stronger," Greyback continued, licking his lips. "I thought maybe you knew when you joined us two years ago, but now I see you are just as weak as any other wizard."

"I guess its true what they say, then," Lupin shrugged. "You can never trust a werewolf."

Greyback rushed forward and slashed his fingernails across Lupin's neck and chest. Blood spurted everywhere, but he didn't have time to do any more damage, because suddenly, Greyback howled in pain and dropped to the floor. While Greyback was distracted with Lupin, Pettigrew had crept forward along the floor. When he was close enough, he had used his silver hand to crush the bone in Greyback's leg. However, there was a flaw in this plan: Pettigrew didn't quite manage to retreat before Greyback started raking his claw-like nails against his face and arms. Pettigrew yelped and tried to roll away, but it was no use, Greyback grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go. Turning into a rat only made matters worse: Greyback caught him up by the tail and left a long scratch down his spine.

Without warning, Greyback dropped Pettigrew in favor of grasping at his neck. Pettigrew scrambled away and transformed, then sat on his knees and watched Greyback slowly choke to death. When it was clear that the werewolf would trouble them no more, Lupin released the spell that had been strangling him.

"Did he bite you?" Lupin asked weakly, glancing at Pettigrew and holding a torn piece of his robe to his own neck.

"I think these are all scratches," Pettigrew replied, examining his bloodied arm. "So, we can work together after all, Moony."

"I suppose so, Wormtail," Lupin said, reaching down to pull Pettigrew to his feet.

For a moment, it looked as though they might put aside all the wrongs that had passed between them, then Pettigrew attacked.

Caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, Lupin was knocked backwards into a nearby banister before he could even raise his wand. He sent a curse back, but Pettigrew raised his silver hand to intercept it and the spell was deflected away. Every piece of magic Lupin performed met a similar fate as Pettigrew slowly came toward him. Finally, with a terrible smirk, Pettigrew placed a hand on Lupin's chest and tipped him backwards over the banister.

Harry was too surprised and horrified even to cry out. He hadn't seen where Lupin fell, but rushed off to the nearest staircase anyway, ignoring Pettigrew, dragging Ron and Hermione along with him. As soon as they were downstairs and away from Pettigrew and Greyback, Harry whipped off the cloak and began his search in earnest.

"Where are you!" he called desperately, knowing it was useless. He'd watched that fight, seen that fall. There was no way Lupin was in any fit state to respond. Ron and Hermione were following behind him, their attempts to remind him that his responsibility was to finding Voldemort thwarted by their own desires to find and help their old professor.

At last, Harry turned a corner and nearly stumbled over Lupin's prone form. The former professor groaned as Harry's wayward foot accidentally jostled him into consciousness. Lupin was lying in a pool of his own blood, which was being continually augmented by the blood leaking out of his nose, mouth, ears, and neck. His legs were lying at very strange angles, but he didn't seem at all equal to rearranging them. Harry's knowledge of healing spells were limited and he was afraid to try any of them, and Ron and Hermione seemed to be of a similar mind, but they weren't about to leave, either.

"Professor? Professor Lupin?" Harry asked gently as Ron came up alongside him. Hermione seemed unable to come closer and instead hovered a short distance away, apparently prepared to defend the scene against all comers.

"Harry?" Lupin coughed weakly, spitting out a bit of blood, "you shouldn't be here. You have to go. Everyone's counting on you."

"Everyone can wait," Harry replied firmly. He couldn't let the closest person he had to a true uncle die alone, even if it put his task in danger, and he knew the folly of this line of thought just as much as he knew it was the only way things could be.

Lupin seemed to realize this as well and changed the subject, saying, "Your father would be proud of you."

Whether Lupin had intended it or not, his statement robbed Harry of words. It was all the young wizard could do to mutter an embarrassed, "Thanks."

"I can't count the number of times I have been amazed by the ingenuity of all three of you," Lupin continued. "Together, there is nothing that can stop you."

Suddenly, Lupin grabbed Harry by the shoulder and Ron by the forearm and groaned, "Help her!" then he relaxed and his arms dropped to the floor.

"Wait!" Harry cried, carefully shaking Lupin's shoulder. "Come back! Help who?"

Suddenly, Hermione made her presence known behind them, saying, "There's a group of Death Eaters coming."

Desperately, Harry turned back to their deceased professor, shaking him more vigorously and demanding an answer to his dying riddle, until Ron pulled him off, crying "It's no use, mate, he's gone. We've got to go."

"We can't just leave him here," Harry sobbed.

"We don't have a choice," Hermione pointed out as the sound of approaching Death Eaters took a sudden crescendo.

As a knot of intertwined arms and support, the group managed to disappear mere seconds before Lupin's body was discovered by the Death Eaters.

They covered themselves again in the invisibility cloak and once again only managed to travel a short distance before running in to more trouble. A group of seven Death Eaters were milling about, blocking the way they were trying to go.

"We'll have to use a distraction," Harry whispered after studying the situation for only a few seconds.

"What?" Ron demanded. "No."

"Listen," Harry replied. "I don't like the idea of a distraction either, but we can't ambush these Death Eaters, there's no way over there."

"You know things go better when the three of us stick together," Ron pointed out.

"I'm open to suggestions," Harry replied.

"I'll do it," Hermione volunteered.

"What?" Ron demanded.

"You heard me," Hermione replied. "I'll go over there under Harry's invisibility cloak, make some noises, head them off, and I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and Harry gave her the invisibility cloak. Wishing each other good luck, they parted ways. Harry and Ron ducking into the nearest hiding place and watched as the seven Death Eaters passed by, following the amplified sound of Hermione's footsteps. The way clear, they carried on.

They continued for a few minutes, but had long ago lost all track of where Voldemort might be. Just as they were about to double back for the third time they heard a loud echoing pop and retreated behind the nearest statue. However, when they heard a crash and a squeak they leaned out to investigate and found Dobby approaching, banging his head against the wall as he went.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby squealed as soon as he spotted Harry. "Dobby has been watching the Death Eaters, and he has seen that a terrible plot is afoot..." He trailed off, apparently fighting with himself.

"What kind of plot, Dobby?" Harry asked, but the elf seemed to have lost the ability to explain. "Did Mr. Malfoy order you not to tell us? He's not your master anymore; you don't have to listen to him."

Dobby shook his head, ears drooping.

"Did the Death Eaters do something else, then?" Harry pressed, his mind finally settling on a likely possibility. "Did they threaten to do something to the other house-elves if you told us?"

Dobby looked straight at Harry, his eyes wide. It seemed like a yes.

"I can't promise to protect you and the other House Elves," Harry said, a great deal of regret in his voice, "but you all have much more power than you tend to use. Why don't you try telling the others that McGonagall gave them permission to defend themselves."

Dobby nodded slowly.

"Great," Harry said, then added, "If you know, it would really help us if you can just point us in the direction of Voldemort."

After a moment's consideration, Dobby pointed a shaking hand in the direction of a nearby secret passageway that led to a corridor on the west side of the second floor, then trotted away, throwing his head against the wall whenever the opportunity arose.

"Well, that way, then," Harry said with a shrug, and he and Ron departed.

The corridors in the area Dobby had indicated were the clearest they'd seen in all of Hogwarts that night, and Harry allowed himself to wonder if the Order might finally be gaining the upper hand. They searched all over, checked every classroom and passageway, looking for any evidence of Voldemort.

Harry heard the spells, they came from all around him, and in the split second it took for magic to travel from attacker to victim, Harry realized that the empty corridors had led him into a trap. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, cover was nowhere to be found. Then the spells struck.

The ground seemed very far away.

He could feel the energy being drained from his body. Every second was a battle to stay conscious, and every battle drained the energy he no longer had.

The floor was cold and hard.

he couldn't breathe

there was no air

he couldn't move

he couldn't stay awake

he was going...to...

Cold.

That was what woke Harry, but it was the unforgiving floor and the stiffness in his bound limbs that kept him that way. His glasses had been knocked askew and he awkwardly replaced them even though there was nothing much to see, the room was nearly dark. However, he could sense someone moving around in the shadows.

"So nice of you to join me."

"Voldemort!" Harry yelped as he realized the identity of his company.

"We really must stop meeting like this," Voldemort hissed. "I'll have to see what I can do about it."

"If you're going to kill me at least make a proper duel of it," Harry suggested desperately. "Only a coward would kill someone who can't fight ba-"

But it was no use. A bolt of red light erupted from somewhere in the shadows. It shot straight towards Harry and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Harry braced himself, but the spell never reached him. He heard something heavy fall to the floor in front of him, then a terrible sound met his ears: Ron screaming in terrible agony.

"No," Harry whispered, squirming his way over to Ron. He carefully extracted Ron's wand from his flailing hand and untied the ropes around his own arms and feet.

Harry got to his knees and aimed Ron's wand at Voldemort, but the Dark Lord simply laughed and moved off into the next room. Harry hesitated, confused. Never before had he known Voldemort to walk away from a fight such as this, but then he looked down at Ron and understood: Voldemort was making him choose.

It was no choice at all, really. Voldemort could wait and Ron couldn't. He'd encountered Voldemort before and he'd meet him again. Ron needed help and Harry still didn't know how he would survive a fight with Voldemort. But so many people had been hurt or killed that night; Harry couldn't let their sacrifices be for nothing. Voldemort could probably even make himself a whole new set of Horcruxes if he desired, and Harry couldn't stand to start over. The world couldn't stand to start over.

So, hating himself, wishing there was another way, Harry left Ron there, screaming as the curse infected him. Voldemort was still waiting for him in the next room, and Ron's cries could still be heard from the old one.

"We don't have to do this!" Harry shouted, knowing Voldemort wouldn't listen. He might have only said it because, for that moment when he was shouting, he couldn't hear Ron dying. "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."

"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."

"Excellent," Harry said, and meant it. His hand tightened around the foreign wand.

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.

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

Their next spells met in midair 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 by this.

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

The battle continued on this way for some time. They started out almost evenly matched, but Voldemort was rapidly pressing the advantage of his superior knowledge in magic, almost as though he had been toying with Harry and grown tired of prolonging the fight.

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. He couldn't fight back while the spell was on him, he could barely even think. Maybe this was some of how Ron was feeling.

Ron.

He had to get back there.

Suddenly, the pain was gone. Shaking slightly, Harry got back to his feet and raised his wand again.

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.

Harry pressed his advantage to its fullest extent, casting every spell he could think of. 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. Indeed, 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!"

Voldemort collapsed, dead.

For a moment, Harry simply stood over Voldemort, panting slightly, as though he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, and then he knelt down, pulled his wand out of Voldemort's pocket, and raced back into the other room. Ron had stopped screaming, and Harry feared that he might have waited too long.

"Ennervate!" Harry whispered weakly, pointing his wand at Ron's chest, but instead of waking up, Ron gave a great twitch, as though using magic on him had caused a great deal of pain. Desperately, Harry tried levitating him, and while this spell worked, Ron started having some sort of seizure which continued until Harry lowered him back to the floor. If magic had that sort of effect on Ron, then Harry had only one choice, to carry him.

Disapparating was out of the question at the moment; that would be the first of all the charms that would remain protecting the school, so that at least the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to escape by Disapparating. The same was sure to be true of the floo network. This was unfortunate for Harry, because it meant that unless there was someone in Hogwarts, the nearest help would be in Hogsmeade, three kilometers away.

He half carried and half dragged Ron out of the dungeons and into the Entrance Hall, where he stood yelling for help for as long as he dared, but there was no response. He even sent out a patronus, hoping some member of the Order would see it and know what it meant. Harry hadn't expected to find the castle so deserted or eerie.

With nothing else for it, Harry dragged Ron to the front door, forced it open with his foot, and stepped outside.

It was immensely foggy, the sun scarcely penetrating the thick layer of mist, making it seem as though it was still predawn on the ground, even though a watch would have maintained that it was in fact early morning.

It had finally stopped raining sometime during the night, but deep puddles covered the ground. They seemed to delight in blending in with the fog, making themselves even more difficult to see than their surroundings, which could be spotted through the fog at a distance of no more than a meter.

If it was difficult to see then it was impossible to hear: the fog seemed to suck up all the sound. The birds must have chosen to forgo their morning songs, the little sound there was came from the two figures that emerged, fighting their way through the mist. Still, Harry could barely hear his struggling footsteps and Ron's dragging feet nor his own ragged breath and Ron's occasional gasps of pain.

Within minutes their feet were soaked as Harry walked straight into puddles he hadn't been able to see. Soon their robes and hair were damp as well as they captured water from the fog. Harry imagined that Ron must be very cold; he would have been too if he wasn't the one doing all the work. As it was, the condensing fog intermingled with the sweat and tears on his face.

Finally, silhouettes of the nearest buildings of Hogsmeade began to loom into view and Harry put all the energy he had left into an extra burst of speed until he reached the street.

"Help!" Harry yelled. When there was no response he said it again and again, but it was no use, Hogsmeade was just as deserted as Hogwarts.

Harry lowered Ron to the ground and began to check him over. He didn't seem to be breathing and Harry couldn't find a pulse, he could only hope that was because he didn't know how to look for one. At any rate, the situation was now either desperate or hopeless, but Harry couldn't simply give up on Ron, not anymore, not after everything.

Harry kneeled down, grasped Ron's arms very tightly, and cleared his mind, and Disapparated. The horrible feeling of compression seemed to last much longer than usual, but his arrival at Saint Mungo's was impossible to miss. They were suddenly surrounded by people and there were several screams, but none of them were Ron's.

"Out of the way!" Harry shouted desperately, getting to his feet and pulling Ron to the edge of the crowd.

"Help!" he called to the first Healer he saw. She came hurrying over immediately and helped Harry to lift Ron onto a stretcher. She hardly even asked questions, just Ron's name, as she hurried upstairs with Harry in tow, gathering more Healers and a few on-lookers as she went.

"Let's get him on a bed!" the Healer shouted to her colleagues as soon as they reached a treatment room.

Three of them lifted him from the stretcher and onto the bed, and one reported, "He's not breathing!" He forced a potion down Ron's throat.

"Ronald Weasley!" the first Healer said, leaning down to speak directly in Ron's ear. "You're at Saint Mungo's. We're trying to save you, can you wake up?"

"What happened to him?" one of the Healers asked. It took Harry a moment to realize that the question was directed at him.

"He got cursed."

"What spell?" the Healer pressed.

"I don't know, I'd never seen it before," Harry faltered, feeling suddenly exhausted. "There was no incantation."

"That's alright, sit down, son."

But Harry didn't sit.

"I'm not leaving. He's my friend."

"Harry! Are you alright! What about Ron!"

Harry turned and saw Hermione rushing toward him with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Hermione's injuries looked somehow worse than the last time he'd seen her.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry replied. "But Ron, he's..."

"Oh, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley cried, rushing up to him, crowding a Healer out of the way as she went.

"Healer's ready!" someone shouted.

"No, wait!" Harry exclaimed. "I already tried, magic only makes it-"

"Finite Incantatum!" all the Healers shouted at once.

Ron started screaming again, and somehow it was even more horrible to hear than before.

Harry found it almost impossible to watch as the Healers worked to save Ron, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Ron had been trying to rescue Harry, and it was Harry who left him to die. Somehow, Harry felt he had to stay, as though his presence alone would help somehow. When someone called his name from the hallway, he tried to ignore her.

"That's Professor McGonagall looking for you," Hermione said unhelpfully after a few seconds of this. All the color seemed to have drained from her face.

Very reluctantly, Harry went to go speak with the Headmistress, but he couldn't bring himself to cross the threshold into the hallway.

"How did you escape?" McGonagall questioned without preamble.

"I...Disapparated," Harry replied slowly. Half his mind was still with Ron.

"How many Death Eaters are still in the castle?" McGonagall pressed.

"I didn't see any," Harry said. "There was no one there when I left."

"No one?" McGonagall gasped. "But, what about You-Know-Who?"

"I-Know...?" Harry stumbled. "Oh. He's...he's dead, I killed him."

It was strange: that all seemed like such a long time ago, yet it was the event that Harry had been waiting for his entire life. Now it paled in comparison with his concern for Ron.

"Dead?" McGonagall said. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "It's over."

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

For the next day and a half, Harry, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley could rarely be found away from Ron's bedside, but then Ron woke up and found his arm, which had received the worst of the spell, numb and wrapped in bandages and the world free of Voldemort.

The Ministry was kept busy over the next few weeks sorting out the living from the dead and the innocent from the guilty. As an escaped prisoner who was captured inside of Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban without trial.

Remus' body was found, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were shocked and dismayed when the Healers' estimates put his time of death several hours after they left him.

Tonks was not seen, at least not in any recognizable form, for several months, though there were many who suspected that she attended Remus' funeral in disguise. She eventually returned to the Ministry as an Auror.

With the help of the house-elves, Hogwarts was repaired, and students returned the next fall for classes. Hogsmeade was rebuilt as well.

Neville recovered from his encounter with Bellatrix Lestrange. His parents, unfortunately, did not.

Grawp made a full recovery, thanks to the care of the centaurs. He and Hagrid eventually moved to France so that Hagrid could spend more time with his brother, and with Madam Maxime.

Hermione was so preoccupied with helping Harry and Ron after the battle that she forgot to take care of herself. It was several months before she told her friends what Lucius Malfoy had done to her, and only because she could handle it alone no longer.

Ron eventually regained the use of his damaged arm, though it never healed entirely.

Harry and Ginny sorted out their relationship eventually, and Ron and Hermione continued theirs.

Voldemort was never seen or heard from again.

Harry went on to live a normal life, though he could never quite resist a bit of adventure.

The End.