The Last Battle

The room was a mess. Top-robes, hastily discarded in the heated debate, were tossed carelessly over chairs and on the floor. Cups of pumpkin juice and coffee lay on their sides spilling their contents over tabletops. Dozens of witches and wizards were chaotically bunched around a single large map on the central table, their chairs pushed violently backwards, their eyes wide, faces red, breath coming in rasps. Before them, the debate raged.

"We need our best men in the field where they can take down the Death Eaters easily! Putting them on the rooftops is a waste!" a shoddy and angry-looking Remus Lupin growled beneath his messy hair. Dumbledore quickly countered this accusation with further reasoning.

"But from there they can fire curses and spells in safety. We cannot afford to use them as infantry when we have five battalions who can easily cope on the field. This way, the Death Eaters will be too preoccupied fending off the frontal attack to be able to deflect the most accurate and deadly curses from above!" The room fell silent at this, and Dumbledore could hear the sharp intake of breath coming from Ron Weasley, the growls coming from Lupin, but most of all he heard the inevitable scraping of a chair on the stone floor and a heavy fist banging onto the table.

"I refuse to use my battalion as fodder or a distraction! You can't just throw away lives like that!" Harry Potter had risen from his chair where he had been listening carefully to the battle strategy. His bottom lip shook with fear or anger, his wild hair looking messier than ever before. Hermione Granger started towards him, tentatively placing a placating hand on his shoulder before he shrugged her off and fiercely stared at Dumbledore, eyes filled with... was that hate he saw in those eyes?

Dumbledore stared back, but the look of panic that flitted over his eyes for a second disappeared as he looked at the boy... the man... before him, and pity overwhelmed him. Pity for this boy who had been forced to grow up too soon, who had faced more death and pain than anybody should have to, and who would soon have to face even more. He sighed deeply and suddenly felt very old.

"Harry, this is a war. Every life that is lost is a pointless waste in a time like this. Carnage is an inevitable prospect." He spoke slowly, soothingly, but evidence of his frailty shone through in the tear that trickled so beautifully down his cheek... "Our main goals are to eliminate the enemy with as few pointless deaths as possible. But there will be pointless deaths. There has to be, for any victory to be gained."

Harry watched that solemn, rainbow-filled tear fall onto Dumbledore's white beard, and one look into those grandfather-like eyes broke his resolve. His fist shook as it opened up, his knees trembled as he sat back down in his chair, and he shut his eyes against the resignation that he knew would be painted upon his own face. It made sense.

"Yes. You're right. Aurors on the castle walls, the battalions..." He felt a lump rising in his throat as he thought of his friends and the people he had spent the last seven years living with. "The battalions will be in the field... Infantry I suppose they would be if this were a muggle war." Dumbledore nodded in agreement, and waved his wand at the map that lay before them. Immediately lines of coloured pegs appeared on it, indicating the position of the Aurors on the castle walls, the position of the battalions that stood at a right angle from the castle, the position of the giants that stood in front of the castle, barring the entrances.

"It is settled then. Thank the Gods Beauxbatons has joined us, or we would be in big trouble..." Lupin noted. "When will the battle begin?"

"It can't be long now, Remus," Dumbledore answered, and he heard the whimpers coming from Hermione and some of the younger members of the Order. "Voldemort has been amassing his forces for a while now, and will be ready soon. I have no doubt that-" But before he could finish his sentence the door to the conference room burst open, shattering slightly. Severus Snape half glided, half ran in, his breath coming in gasps, chest heaving painfully, with wounds that were obviously Cruciatus-caused.

"They're coming!" he cried, his blood mingling with mud and sweat. "Voldemort and his army... They're ready! He wants me to... He wants..." But Snape's breath caught in his throat and he fell on his knees to the stone floor, clutching at his side. Lupin and Arthur Weasley ran over to help him to a chair, and Molly Weasley quickly pulled his robes open.

"Gods Severus!" she exclaimed, taking in the sight of his bloody and battered chest. "What did they do to you?!"

"Voldemort... suspected me," he managed to hiss through winces and groans as Molly began healing his wounds. "Somebody in the Death Eaters has grown suspicious and voiced his thoughts to the Dark Lord. This is a pre-punishment, a warning... But there is also a test..."

Dumbledore, whose eyes had been staring down at the map intently, and whose fingers had been clasped together, now rose from his seat and looked worried. "What test?"

"To prove my loyalty and save my life, I am to create several portkeys for them... Dozens in fact, so they can enter onto Hogwarts grounds. If I don't do this they will take me and no doubt torture me until I reveal the Order's secrets." Snape closed his eyes against pain and the admittance of failure. "I'm sorry, Albus..."

But Dumbledore merely turned to the rest of the witches and wizards gathered in the room, most of them looking scared, many trembling. Harry sat stock still, eyes wild with feverish hatred as he took in the pain that had been inflicted upon Snape. Hermione's hand crept into Ron's as he looked into her eyes, and tried to smile reassuringly.

"It is time, then," Dumbledore proclaimed, looking the Order of the Phoenix over. A brief glint of an almost-forgotten memory of the previous Order replayed itself in his mind. "We have planned everything that is in our capability to plan, and now we shall put it to the test. This will be the last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, one way or another..." And the words rang through the eerily silent room as their effect realized itself. Yes, either they would all be dead, or there would be no need for the Order after this battle. "I thank you all, my friends, brothers, sisters... Now we go to our posts and duties." And as each person walked out of the door he smiled and embraced them, one by one. Arthur and Molly Weasley, five of their sons: Ron, Fred, George, Charlie and Bill, Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, Snape, Sprout, Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-eye Moody, Madam Hooch, Neville Longbottom, Cho Chang, Hermione, and Harry.

"Farewell," Dumbledore whispered as the last of them had descended the stairs, "for I know not when we shall meet again." And with that, he called his phoenix, Fawkes to his arm, and waved his wand. Several boxes appeared in front of him, and with another wave of his wand his possessions- the various artifacts and books- packed themselves into them. Sitting down, he took out a quill and parchment- a phoenix feather quill of course, and wrote a letter. Placing it in an envelope and sealing it with wax and the Hogwarts seal, he addressed it:

"To the new Headmaster of Hogwarts"

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All the students from sixth year and below had been gathered into the Great Hall, where they were informed of what was happening. Their panic was evident, but Professor McGonagall quietened them with the authority of Deputy Headmistress, and told them what would be happening.

"Fear not! You will not be trapped in the castle! We will be leaving Hogwarts immediately via a secret passage into Hogsmeade. You will not bring any of your belongings with you, as it is absolutely imperative that we leave immediately. Now, I will be leading Gryffindor and Slytherin through first, and Professors Sprout and Flitwick will be leading Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You will not talk. You will not run. You will walk in pairs and you will not break line." And with that she walked from the staff table and towards the double doors, opening them. "Come!" she ordered, and they did. She took the Marauders Map from her pocket, and studied it imperiously before pointing her wand at it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" The map seemed to hesitate, but eventually the lines appeared upon it, filling out the parchment with the corridors, rooms, and passageways of Hogwarts. Studying the map closer, Minerva finally found the passageway Harry had spoken of, and walked out of the Great Hall, the evacuee students behind her.

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Harry and Ron dressed in silence, pulling on battle robes and weapons. The sword of Godric Gryffindor swung at Harry's side. He watched Ron fasten the belt of his scabbard which held a sword: for all the infantry and been given poisoned swords. It was thought best to have some form of attack as well as the wand, just in case wands were broken. When they had both finished their preparations, they stood before each other, the words sticking in their throats.

"Harry, I..." Ron began, but he didn't finish. Harry closed the gap between them and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"I know, Ron," he cried as tears fell down his cheeks, mingling with Ron's. "I know..."

"We've been through so much together, mate..." The tears were streaming now, and Harry thought their hearts were breaking. "It should feel normal going into battle by your side now!" Ron laughed slightly, and fisted his hands into Harry's messy hair. Harry buried his head in Ron's broad shoulder, and whispered.

"Ron, no battle feels normal, this one least of all. But you know... you know that you are my brother. In friendship, in school, in love, and now in battle. I love you so much, Ron! So much!" And he couldn't stop his shoulders shaking, couldn't stop the tears coming thick and fast as he squeezed Ron's body to his, eager to keep it there, to keep it away from whatever the battle might bring. If only time could stop, if only they could be here forever, and never have to face the impending battle... Harry knew for the first time true fear, real impending doom, as he felt the battle rushing towards them like a huge monster about to crush them. Suddenly, both men felt something wrap around them, and more tears joined their own.

"Hermione..." Harry breathed, and he pulled away from Ron, taking in the sight of his other best friend. Hermione looked at him shyly, feeling oddly at home in her battle gear. She looked like a warrior Goddess, her hair wild around her battle robes... She moved forward and took the sobbing Harry into her embrace, soothing him like she would a child, planting light kisses on his forehead, and rubbing her hands through his hair.

"Harry, it's okay... We're going to be fine..." she tried to console him.

"You don't know that! For all you know we could all die and... and..." but Harry wouldn't let himself finish the thought out loud. Speaking what he'd feared for so long made it seem real.

"Harry, do you really think that friendship such as ours could be killed with death? We will meet again, no matter what, though it may be a little longer before we do than we would like." And Hermione could feel the force of the words flowing through her. She was ready for this battle. She wanted it to be over. She wanted to run into the thick of the fighting and cut down as many of the bastard Death Eaters as she could, prove to herself and to them that being a Mudblood did not affect her abilities. She felt the hot anger like molten lava run up through her body and bury itself in her stomach and throat, ready to be released as soon as the battle began. Oh, she would fight, and she would probably die. But she would take as many of the bastards down with her as she could.

"Hermione, I love you," Harry said simply, staring into her big, brown eyes and smiling. "Really, I couldn't have asked for better best friends than you two!"

"And I love you too, Harry," Hermione replied, feeling him pull away from her. Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and walked towards the door.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while..." he said. "See you on the field." And with that, Hermione and Ron were left alone, a dead weight hanging between them. Hermione's sadness for a moment overwhelmed her battle-urge as she looked at the face of the man she had loved for so long, the only man she had given herself to, wholly and completely.

"My love..." she addressed him, walking towards him.

"My life..." he replied, closing the gap between them and taking her hands in his. No more words were needed.

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Snape had finally finished setting up the dozens of Portkeys that he had placed in the Hogwarts grounds, in front of the castle. He looked at his watch. Two hours to go...

Turning back to the castle, he came face to face with Dumbledore, who looked regal in his battle gear.

"Albus," Snape nodded in greeting.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted back, smiling. He didn't wait for what he knew would be an un-necessary apology from Snape, but continued by stating his own thoughts. "Severus, I don't care what you think, but you have done great things for the Order. Things that, I must admit, I did not expect you would do. You have surpassed all of my expectations, and valiantly risen to every challenge thrown at you. Even today you have helped us, by bringing the time of the battle forward, and telling us of it. We are now prepared, and we will meet the Dark Lord's army blow for blow, injury for injury, death for death and more." A strong, almost angry tone was detectable in his voice, and Snape stared up at his Headmaster in awe and gratitude.

"I have tried, Albus..." was all he managed, and he walked away to prepare himself for battle in the best way he could.

Dumbledore turned to watch him go, and looked upwards towards the roof of Hogwarts. He could see, hidden behind the ramparts of the castle walls, hundreds of figures, waiting. He smiled to know that he had the world's best Aurors on his side and fighting beside him in battle. He then turned to the Forbidden Forest, where he now saw Hagrid preparing the giants, beginning to lead them to the front of the castle. Once more, he smiled. Turning to his right, he noted the Patronus squad, the battalion committed solely to fighting off the Dementors that they knew Voldemort would bring. The other battalions, lead by Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Granger, were forming ranks near the Patronus squad, and Dumbledore knew Hooch's flying battalion were ready in the grounds beyond, with their brooms. Silently, he prayed... He had put everything he had into this battle, and he knew that if he lost it he would have nothing left to protect those left behind. He had taken every seventh year student from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons and split them into battalions. He had nearly all the Aurors in the country on the castle walls. He hoped and prayed that it would be enough.

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Slowly the day passed, and Harry could feel the tension building amongst his troops... the fear. They had been well trained, he knew that. But even the best training in the world is no use if fear is your constant companion. Silently, he let his gaze roll over the ranks, picking out familiar faces. Longbottom, Finnegan, Thomas... Patil, Patil, Boot... Brown, Quirke, Chang... He also noted the unsurprising lack of Slytherin students. Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy were absent... Malfoy! Harry should have expected that.

Finally, Snape gave the signal to Dumbledore, telling him that it was approximately one minute before the arrival of the Dark army. Harry swallowed, and looked to Ron, who looked back. A silent agreement passed between them as they allowed themselves a few brief seconds to loose themselves in each others eyes one last time. 'Give them hell...' A quick look at Hermione told Harry she already knew this, and so he launched into his battle speech.

His eyes ranged over his troops... They were scared witless, testy, tense. This had to be a speech to end all speeches.

"In a few moments, the Dark Lord will appear with his army!" he shouted to them, and they looked up at him, eager for something. Reassurance? Guidance? He could give them neither. "He is powerful! His army is strong! They will not show you mercy! With him, he will bring death and many of you will die! But we will fight him! We will not give up! We will not surrender! Every blow he deals us we will return twofold! Every death he deals to us we will multiply upon him! And we will take him down! We will win! We will GIVE THEM HELL!!!!" And with that he screamed and raised his sword in the air, a rallying point for them all. And suddenly he felt his war cry welling up inside him, and he shouted it out as loud as he could, feeling its power flowing through him... This was a war frenzy...

"HELL!!!!!" he cried again, and he was joined in his war cry by his battalion, who valiantly raised their swords to the heavens or to their chests.

"HELL!" And he heard Ron's battalion join in the cry.... It was no longer just a cry, but an earth shattering rumble of anger, hatred, perseverance, and courage overriding all else.

"HELL!!!" And Hermione's battalion joined in, her cry singing out high and free, valiant, unstoppable... With it, it seemed they called down fury from the Gods, and as Voldemort's army appeared inside the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds, the cry rang out louder than ever before, tearing throats, breaking hearts, raging towards the Death Eaters.

Immediately overhead the flying squad zoomed, shooting curses at the new arrivals. Many missed their marks, many were blocked with swift counter-curses and shielding spells, but a few Death Eaters fell to the ground or were thrown unceremoniously across the field, landing in heaps of broken bones and limbs. All wore white masks and black robes, their wands raised. Behind them, a large part of the army appeared, and Harry could see from the robes they wore that they were from Durmstrang. But their appearance did not quell the maddening war cry that still pulsed out from the throats and hearts of Dumbledore's army, and as one Hermione's battalion surged forward, Hermione at the head of it, wand raised in a shielding charm, and sword clenched in her right hand. Her face was a picture of pure fury and frenzy, and the curses bounced off the shield as she ploughed on, leading her troops further towards the Dark army. Ron's battalion followed soon after, and Harry felt his body surging forwards as his war cry still swept through his body. He felt curses whistle over his head that he knew came from the walls of Hogwarts, and he shouted "Protego!" to activate the shielding charm.

With a final cry, Harry ran into the thick of the Death Eaters and began hacking through them without thinking. Every now and then he shouted a killing curse and a stunning spell, but his mind was focused on what he was doing with his sword. Around him, his fellow students were also hacking, shouting spells and curses, and falling...

"Avada Kedavra!" he cried, pointing his wand at a Death Eater who had just felled Padma Patil. The Death Eater fell to the ground immediately, in a clean, painless death.

On top of the castle ramparts, Mad-eye Moody was shouting commands to the Aurors, in between shouting curses down into the crowd. He had ordered them all to charm their wands to aim for enemies only, out of fear that they would accidentally hit someone on their side. Their curses were having effect, and Death Eaters were falling by the dozen... But Moody could see that their forces were also taking heavy losses. And coming through the gates of Hogwarts, Moody saw something he had hoped he would not see... A sea of black, floating mist had crept hauntingly through the gates, and a chill immediately overwhelmed him. Dementors. Hundreds of them. All bringing with them death, soul-less pain, evil memories... And he fell to his knees clutching his head, trying to block out the sounds of his own worst memories. Oh, he had plenty of them, he idly thought, before the pain overwhelmed him and he was dragged into his own horrifying past.

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Harry was dimly aware of a growing feeling of dread as he hacked his way through bodies, not caring who's they were. It was only when he heard, dimly, coming from a forgotten cavern in his deepest memories, the familiar screaming of his Mother. Oh Gods! Dementors! But he pushed the screaming back with happy memories... In front of his vision he replayed images of Ron and Hermione, Sirius and Lupin... The train to Hogwarts in their first year... Winning the Quidditch Cup... Winning the House Cup... Hexing Draco Malfoy... Lazy summer afternoons spent by the lake... Playing chess against Ron... Doing homework with Hermione... Living with Sirius in Grimmauld Place... Oh, Gods... Sirius... And Harry felt a new worst memory clamouring for his attention, heard the cries around him and watched as Sirius' body slipped through the veil. Harry fell to his knees, crying, screaming, not wanting to think about it again...

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain and depression was lifted, and the sun shone brightly into his eyes. Around him, silver patronuses had erupted, charging down the Dementors and pushing them out of the Hogwarts grounds. Mind clear again, determined to press on and kill as many more of these bastards as he could, Harry gripped his sword once more and stood up.

He came face to face with a sneering, silver-haired Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," Draco hissed, his sardonic smile twisting into a grimace.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged, gripping his wand tighter. He stared at the man before him, the man who for seven years had been his sworn enemy, the man who made him and his friends feel like shit on the bottom of his shoe. This man's grimace spread into an almost polite smile, as he bowed before Harry, wand raised, signifying the beginning of a wizard's duel. Harry bowed in return, and then raised himself to look into Malfoy's silver eyes.

"Now we end this!" he growled, as he threw a disarming spell directly at Malfoy.

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Hermione's war frenzy had not yet subsided, and she was slashing wildly through the ranks of Death Eaters and Durmstrang students. She was dimly aware of the group of giants led by Hagrid, tearing Death Eaters to pieces behind her, and she noted the red stickiness of the grass beneath her feet. From the corner of her eye she saw a man in Durmstrang robes casts a killing curse at her, and she turned immediately towards it.

"Protego!" Her spell bounced the curse away from her. But just as she went to drive her sword through the man, she felt her wand fly from her hand, and she was hit from behind with force. Falling to the ground, she felt her sword clatter away out of her reach, and she looked up to see the pathetic face of Wormtail over her, gloating.

"Ah, Miss Granger..." his voice was syrupy sweet as he drew his wand up. "Time to die I think!" And with that he hissed out the killing curse, sending a shaft of green light towards Hermione, who closed her eyes and waited for the painless death... Her eyes were shocked open when she felt a heavy body barrel into her, knocking her away, and she screamed when she saw what had happened.

Ron's body lay on the ground before her, eyes unblinking, still, silent. A faint green light- the afterglow from Avada Kedavra- surrounded him, but his eyes were not full of shock or surprise as she had seen so many times in killing curse victims. His eyes were full of something she had seen many times from him now... Love. Love that overthrows life and tosses aside the self for the aid of the other. Hermione's mind flashed back briefly to a tryst in the Room of Requirement, where vows were made, souls united... He had said then, that he would do anything for her, even die for her. And he had. Surely this was the end of the world? Hermione's heart broke, shattered into pieces there in that field, and she felt as though she would bleed out all her love onto the mud beneath her.

Before her, Wormtail stood watching the scene, watching her anguished tears fall onto the body that lay before her. He watched as she grasped the body to her chest, rocking back and forth with it as if singing it a lullaby and crooning it to sleep. He watched as she raised her head and voice to the sky, keening and wailing like the Morrigan. He watched as he slowly broke the world of this woman, shattered it to a thousand pieces... A sacrifice for love! His betrayal had led to that once before already, but twice now... twice he had caused this. Wormtail's reason returned to him slowly, as his mind followed the train of thought to its logical conclusion, and he remembered a life debt he owed.

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Hagrid was commanding the giants that were scattered around him, picking up Death Eaters and tossing them against the walls of the castle. Blood was smeared all around him, and his hands and face were covered in sweat and blood. How much of it was his and how much of it was others' he did not know, nor care. He saw a flash of blue robes out of the corner of his eye, and turned slightly to see Dumbledore in the midst of a duel with a Death Eater. He stood mesmerized as he watched the old man's fluid movement and grace, the ease with which he dueled, and the subtle originality he put into his curses and hexes. But suddenly he saw a green light shoot towards Dumbledore from behind, and he began to run forward, not knowing what else to do. Before he got any further though, the curse had hit Dumbledore square in the back, and the great man had fallen to the ground, limp, and suddenly looking very, very old. Hagrid let out a mighty roar, which turned many heads towards him. With the roar came an anger so intense that it completely overwhelmed him, and he waded into the army of Death Eaters before him, breaking bodies, kicking them out of the way, crushing them... But soon the Death Eaters surrounded him, and began firing hexes and curses at him as he continued attacking their ranks.

Remus Lupin watched from afar as it took them twelve curses to kill Hagrid, and when the huge, shaggy head finally disappeared into the crowd he silently said goodbye.

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Neville Longbottom found himself in the thick of the battle, the enemy surrounding his battalion. But he didn't care... He was looking for just one Death Eater, his mind hell-bent on a revenge he had been seeking for three years. Oh, he would find her, and he would break her before killing her... He was going to make her suffer as she had made his parents suffer... He was going to wrench her sanity from her, and make her pay for what she did.

When Bellatrix Lestrange appeared before him, her black hair waving about her, her Death Eater mask discarded, Neville smiled maniacally.

"I've been waiting a long time to do this," he growled at her, walking towards the woman purposefully. The madness in his eyes was obviously evident to her, as she stepped back and tripped, finding herself on her back on the ground with Neville standing over her.

"Please!" she begged, "please! No!" But the pleas did not affect Neville the way she had hoped, and instead he laughed at her, grinning.

"I'm sure that's what my parents said to you, isn't it? I bet they begged you, pleaded with you, cried out for mercy! And you gave them none! You toyed with them, you tortured them, and you enjoyed it! Now you will know what it feels like..." Neville raised his wand and pointed it at her chest. Hissing, he let the curse roll over his tongue like syrup... "Crucio..."

Bellatrix writhed before him, screaming in pain as the fire coursed through her veins. Her head felt like it would explode, her limbs felt as though they were being ripped from her body, and her throat was hoarse with screaming. All she knew was pain, fire, and burning. Surely he would make it stop soon? How long could she cope with this pain? Suddenly, it left her, just as swiftly as it had arrived, and she winced as the sunlight hit her tortured eyes.

"Now you know how my parents felt, don't you?!" Neville cried, grinning. He looked at her broken body, saw the tears streaming from her eyes, heard her loud gasps as she clutched at her chest trying to breathe properly. "Gods, you're pathetic!" he exclaimed, as he raised his wand once more. "I have better things to do with my time..." And Bellatrix knew what was coming. Her eyes widened in fear, and she cried out again as Neville shouted with all his anger and hatred,

"Avada Kedavra!" As soon as the curse hit, Bellatrix fell to the ground limply, the pain, shock, and fear still glowing in her eyes. Neville kicked her body and stared at it. A hand grasped his arm and whirled him around, and he was facing Remus Lupin, who was looking at him in disgust.

"Neville! What have you...? Why, Neville?"

"I gave her what she should have got years ago! She tortured my parents to insanity!" Neville cried, not feeling remotely repentant.

"But, Neville... Don't you see?" Lupin's eyes were wide with sadness. "Don't you see what you've become?"

And it suddenly hit him. He looked down at Bellatrix, and then at his feet, and he realized exactly what he had become: the thing he had most hated. The thing that had tortured his parents. He was as bad as the worst Death Eater. The pain of the realization shattered through Neville's heart, piercing him. He let out a great cry, and fell to the ground, sobbing, trying to shut it all out. What would his parents think of him if they knew? For Neville, it was too much to take, and he stood up to face Lupin. Looking him in the eye, all he could say was, "I'm sorry, Professor..." before he turned his wand on himself, raised up all the hatred he had for Bellatrix and which he now had for himself, and muttered the killing curse one last time.

"Avada Kedavra!" As Neville's body fell, Lupin turned away, sick with the sight of so much carnage, sick with the sight of seeing his friends turn into monsters. He knew what becoming a monster was like all too well...

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"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, aiming the spell at Malfoy again. Malfoy countered with "Protego!" and the spell bounced away into the crowd of fighters around them.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Malfoy threw at Harry, but Harry dodged the hex and heard the thud of the stunned person falling to the ground behind him.

"Come on, Potter, is that the best you can do?" Malfoy taunted, inching closer to him. Harry regarded Malfoy for a split second before drawing his sword from the scabbard at his side.

"Oh, I intend to show you just what my best is right now, Malfoy," he sneered, raising the sword in front of him. Malfoy grinned, and Harry saw a glint of cockiness in the man's eyes, as he reached for his own sword.

"A swordfight then!" exclaimed Malfoy as he raised his sword. He swung at Harry, and Harry countered, pushing Malfoy away. He thrusted up at Malfoy's chest, and Malfoy parried, throwing the sword off balance. Harry took a step forward, Malfoy took one back. Harry stepped to the right, Malfoy to the left. Pretty soon they were circling each other, looking for a way to strike and kill, like two tigers waiting for the moment to pounce on their prey... The sun was hot and heavy, and it glinted off their hair, making them look like two haloed angels, one dark, one light, both equally matched.

"You've chosen the wrong side again, Malfoy," Harry said, as he circled Draco, looking for a weakness. "Didn't it occur to you that being a Death Eater wasn't a good idea, when your Daddy got thrown into Azkaban?" He lunged forwards, aiming at Draco's stomach, but Draco twisted out of striking range and countered the blow with his own sword, which he drew up against as he pushed it along Harry's to the hilt. They were face to face, swords crossed between their bodies, still circling around each other.

"And didn't it occur to you, Potter, that maybe I had no choice in the matter?" Malfoy sneered, pushing with all his strength against the swords, desperately trying to unbalance Harry.

"There is always a choice, Malfoy!" Harry hissed into Draco's ear.

"You can't escape what you are born to be!" Draco replied, thrusting away from the swords and away from Harry, trying to find another way. But Harry didn't give him a chance: he twirled around twice, his sword held out, and sliced at Malfoy's stomach. Malfoy jumped back, but he didn't jump back far enough, and he gasped in surprise as he felt his skin being sliced open. He knew he had made a grave mistake when his stillness gave Harry the chance he had needed, and he backed into Malfoy, the blade of Godric Gryffindor's sword plunging into his body up to the hilt. He staggered back, Harry and the sword still attached to him, and sadness welled up in his eyes.

"No..." he managed to choke out, blinking in surprise.

"Yes," was all Harry said in reply, as he lowered Malfoy to the ground, the sword still in his stomach. And at that point he saw it... Draco's silver-blonde head rested against the red grass, the sun highlighting him and glimmering on his beautiful hair... It was... beautiful, like an alabaster statue against a red velvet curtain. Malfoy was beautiful. Harry glanced down to the sword that was piercing Malfoy's beautiful body and felt dismay wash over him. He had destroyed this beauty, this perfection... He felt soft sobs racking Malfoy's body, and he looked again into those piercing eyes.

"It could have been so different, you know..." Malfoy gasped, his breath coming quickly. "It didn't have to be this way... We could have been friends, once." And Harry cast his mind back to the train on his first journey to Hogwarts, to a hand of friendship refused, to a pointless and petty house rivalry fuelled by nothing but vain assumptions. Tears fell onto Malfoy's face as Harry realized that he was right.

"I'm sorry, Draco," he whispered, and Draco nodded.

"I'm sorry too." And still his face was beautiful, perfect.

"You were the best enemy a man could ever hope for," Harry joked half-heartedly, waiting out the death throes. And still the sun illuminated that face, that angelic face.

"Harry..." Draco gasped, as he neared the edge between life and death... "Harry, it has been... an honour." And with that last word he exhaled, long and slow, and peace came over that already perfect face, making him look impossibly God-like, angelic, beautiful, serene... Harry took in all this beauty, sure he would never see something even remotely like it ever again, and as his tears fell, he replied to ears that couldn't hear him,

"No, the honour has been all mine." The anguish swept over him as he realized what he had destroyed, like the small child who sees that they have accidentally crushed the beautiful butterfly they had caught in their sticky hands... So much beauty, and so much of it he had destroyed... He looked around him at the battle, watching friend and foe fall around him, and he saw that he caused this, killed all this beauty. Hogwarts, the beautiful castle, was smeared with blood. Over to his left, Ron's beautiful body was lying, Hermione's beautiful heart breaking with weeping. Slowly, he drew the sword from Draco's body, and continued into the fray, knowing full well that they were now outnumbered. They had taken far too many losses, more than they had expected since the Death Eaters had taken brooms from fallen members of the flying squad and flown up to the castle ramparts to take out the Aurors up there. And where on Earth was Voldemort? Harry knew he could end this right now if only he could find him.

He ran forwards, spotting a broom lying on the ground next to a body, and grabbed it, jumping on. Swiftly he flew upwards and over the battle, so he had a bird's eye view. Looking down he checked for friendly faces... Dumbledore, dead... Hagrid, dead... Neville, dead... He saw Remus dueling with a Durmstrang student, and watched with pain as the student used a simple severing charm to take off Remus' head. He noticed the body of Bellatrix Lestrange lying lifeless by Neville's, and vaguely noted that Bill Weasley also lay dead. Hermione was up and fighting again, more fiercely than before, but she and what was left of her battalion were slowly being surrounded by Death Eaters. Arthur Weasley valiantly fought on, but was also finding himself outnumbered, and Harry could see the impending doom they were all facing. He swooped over the carnage, searching for Voldemort, sure he must he there somewhere... And then he heard it: phoenix song! It floated over the battle , astounding all who heard it, bringing peace to the injured. Fawkes came flying out of the castle, heading straight for... was that a snake he saw?

Nagini hissed and writhed as Fawkes flew closer, and her fangs gnashed wildly at the bird as she attacked. Venom sprayed from Nagini's fangs, singeing Fawkes' feathers, but still Fawkes attacked, gouging at Nagini's eyes, tearing at her with her talons. But she was not a large bird, and Harry watched in awe and anger as Nagini bit into Fawkes' neck and swallowed her whole. For a moment Nagini looked satisfied with herself, and looked around for the next juicy morsel... But she suddenly burst into flames, hissing, almost screaming as she was burned alive by the dying phoenix inside her. When the remains of Nagini had burned into ashes, Harry waited for Fawkes to poke her head through as usual... but nothing happened. Descending, Harry landed his broom by the ashes and raked through them, finding nothing but a very dead bird. The venom had probably been too much for Fawkes...

Dimly, through his grief, Harry heard somebody shouting the command to retreat. Arthur Weasley... Dumbledore's army were pulling back towards the castle, and preparing themselves for a siege. A siege which wouldn't last long now that most of the giants had been killed. He jumped onto his broom once more, and flew high up into the air, desperately seeking out the one man who could end this bloodshed once and for all...

And finally, after swooping over the sea of death, Harry saw him, moving amongst the battle like Moses through the Red Sea, his enemies falling dead around him as he idly cast killing curses. Not caring that he would be surrounded by dozens of Death Eaters and Voldemort, Harry landed in front of him, and smiled the smile of a man who had nothing left to lose.

Voldemort's red, slitted eyes narrowed on him, and what Harry supposed passed for a mouth on his ugly, deformed body widened in a sardonic and triumphant smile.

"Have you come to give yourself up, Harry?" he hissed, and his words were as cold as ice.

"I have come to end this!" Harry shouted back, his sword with Malfoy's blood still wet on it grasped in his right hand, his wand in his left. Harry knew he could not duel Voldemort: their wands would not allow it, which was why he clutched the sword so tightly. It was his only hope.

"By 'this' I assume you mean your life? Because that, Harry, is the only thing that is going to end here." Harry felt the Death Eaters forming a circle around him and Voldemort, protecting their master and preventing any aid reaching Harry. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to get close enough to Voldemort to use his sword... And as the Death Eater formation began to close in on him, he realized he probably was going to die.

Suddenly though, he heard a great cry coming from near the Forbidden Forest. Screams and shouts of fear rumbled through the Dark army, and Harry dimly heard the sound of a horn being blown. He cast a shield charm as arrows rained down around him, piercing the Death Eaters, and he heard the drumming of hooves on the earth. As he rose to his feet, he saw dozens of centaurs leaping around him, stampeding through the Death Eater hordes, crushing them. Harry smiled up at Firenze who came to stand by him.

"We centaurs want it known that we are not doing this for the sake of humans," he explained, firing arrows at the Death Eaters around him. "We do this to protect our home from him." Harry looked towards where Firenze was pointing, seeing Voldemort. He noted that Wormtail was behind Voldemort, as always his master's most faithful servant.

"We will fight with you, Harry Potter!" Firenze cried. "Now end this!" Harry nodded, and now that most of the Death Eaters around him were either injured or dead, he felt his task was going to be a lot easier.

Voldemort cast the first hex, which Harry deflected with the shield charm. When Voldemort cast the killing curse Harry knew he couldn't shield it, but instead Firenze jumped in its way, using himself as Harry's shield, and then falling to the ground. Harry would have grieved for him there and then, had it not been for his complete focus on the Dark Lord, who was getting closer and closer with each step he took. During the time between the casting of the killing curse and when Voldemort could once again see past the huge centaur, Harry had managed to come right up to him, and the sword was raised in his hand, ready to strike. Voldemort acted quickly, and Harry could see the curse in his eyes before it even came out of his lips...

"Avada Ke-"

But Voldemort never managed to finish the curse, as somebody rushed at him from behind, grabbing him around the torso so his arms were locked to his side. The man stood up quickly, and shouted down at Voldemort lying on the ground,

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry looked in surprise at the man, and recognized him as Wormtail.

"Wha...?" was all he managed to say, as Wormtail proceeded to use a full body-bind hex on Voldemort and snapped his wand in half.

"Wormtail! You will be punished for this!" shrieked Voldemort, his eyes glowing maliciously. "Do you not know obedience to your master?"

Wormtail looked down at Voldemort with disgust, seeing him now for what he really was.

"A master needs to be fit for obedience," Wormtail replied, looking at the shards of Voldemort's wand. "And there are some things in this world more powerful than even you, Tom Riddle."

"Do not use that muggle name on me!" Voldemort cried out, his face now contorted with anger. Wormtail simply turned to Harry.

"My life-debt is repayed Harry," he said, and he stood back and watched as Harry did what he had been preparing to do for years, what he had been born to do...

"You gave me hell, Voldemort," he said slowly, looking down in pity at this inhuman... thing. "And now I'm giving it back." He cried out in anger as he thrust the blade into Voldemort's body, and continued to shout as he listened to Voldemort's dying screams. He had not expected to hear such inhuman noises coming from him, and identified some of them as Parseltongue, some of them as half-curses, not quite formed in the mouth that was now vomiting blood. The surrounding Death Eaters cried out in pain, covering their ears from the assaulting noise, falling to their feet. Immediately, what was left of Dumbledore's army rushed forward to cast body-binding hexes and stunning spells on them.

Harry watched as Voldemort writhed and contorted, and a thought in the back of him mind told him he was taking too long to die. Immediately he pulled his blade from Voldemort's body, and brought it back down on his neck, slicing his head cleanly off. The noise stopped, and Voldemort's blood gushed onto the mud. 'Mudblood indeed!' Harry thought with a twist of irony, watching mud and blood mingle around the body. Picking up the gruesome head, Harry walked towards the front steps of the castle, where he did his final gruesome duty. Embedding Godric Gryffindor's sword in the earth, he plunged Voldemort's head onto the hilt as a trophy, a sign that it was finally over.

With the battle over, Harry finally felt his strength leave him, and he crumpled to the ground, exhausted. He didn't come round until he felt something hot being poured down his throat, and he gasped, sitting up in fright.

"It's okay Harry... It's Molly Weasley... I'm giving you Pepper Up Potion." A motherly voice crooned, caressing his head. Harry sighed in relief, and then burst into tears, burying himself in her chest.

"Gods, Molly!" he cried, the tears rolling down his cheeks. "So much death! So many beautiful things, dead!" And Molly began to softly cry too, clutching Harry to her, rocking him backwards and forwards. The pain of her sons' deaths was still raw in her heart, and she had been too busy healing people to think about it, but now... now she held what she saw as her youngest son in her arms, and prayed for Ron, Fred, George, and Bill. Prayed that their deaths had been quick and painless, prayed that they knew how much she had loved them all...

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

It was Moody who found them, entwined together by the steps of Hogwarts, half-asleep, half delirious with pain and loss. Gently, he pulled them apart, and woke Molly up.

"Molly," he whispered, shaking her. "Molly, we have to get the injured inside the castle..." And she opened her eyes, sighing, nodding. She knew where her duty lay. Standing up, she looked down in grief at Harry, who was crying tearlessly, having wept all the tears possible already.

"So young, Alastor..." she sighed. "So many young lives gone..." She shook her head, as if she couldn't understand it.

"But it's over now, Molly, and they died to bring us victory and peace... Though the Gods know it should never have come to this in the first place..." Moody bent down and picked Harry up easily, smiling reassuringly at Molly before carrying Harry into the warm protection of Hogwarts.

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

Hermione watched as the Ministry of Magic arrested all the Death Eaters they had stunned and bound, and noted with triumph that Lucius Malfoy was amongst them. As he was escorted out of the grounds, he stumbled over the body of his son, and Hermione expected him to fall to his knees in despair, weeping for his loss... But instead he sniffed coldly, looked down at the body, and continued walking.

Hermione began to help bring the injured inside the castle and carry the dead to a designated point in the field. She reached Ron's body, and lifted him into her arms, finally placing him by his three brothers. She put her hand on the shoulder of a grieving Arthur Weasley, who knelt before the bodies of Fred, George, and Bill, his head in his hands. Looking over the carnage, Hermione noticed Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Lupin's bodies aswell, and she let a tear fall for them before continuing her duty.

The day wore on, and Hermione found herself carrying many of her friends to the pile of dead bodies. Severus Snape, who had died a traitor's death at the hands of a Death Eater, and who's scarred and slashed body was almost unrecognizable... Neville Longbottom, who had obviously been the victim of a killing curse... Nymphadora Tonks, pink hair dirty with mud, had been killed by a severing charm... Kingsley Shacklebolt, another killing curse victim... Cho Chang, her beautiful swan-like neck snapped... So many of her fellow students, broken and battered... And with each new recognized face Hermione felt another piece of her heart break away, thinking each time that she could not possibly lose any more of it.

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

Harry woke up, suddenly very alert, inside the castle. He had an urge to know who had survived, and who had been lost, and he tossed aside the blankets that were covering him and leaped off the bed, racing for the door.

When he finally got outside, Hermione ran to him, her hands and body covered in other peoples' blood.

"Harry!" she cried, hugging him tightly. "Harry, you need to go back inside and heal! Madam Pomfrey and Molly will look after you..."

"I don't need looking after right now," he replied through gritted teeth, and he pushed away from her, walking purposefully towards the lines of bodies. Each step felt like a leaden weight as he moved closer, but eventually he came within sight of them, and silently grieved for each one... Finally, he came to Ron, and knelt by his best friend's side, not knowing how he could feel so much pain without bursting. Ron looked so beautiful, his red hair sticking up messily as though he had just finished a Quidditch game. Such beauty... And then a thought struck him.

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked, and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"We're tossing the Death Eater bodies over there," she carelessly waved towards a large pile where bodies were being tossed unceremoniously. "They'll be burned when we've finished."

"No!" Harry cried, leaping up, running towards the gruesome pile. "No, you can't do that to Draco!" And he began scrabbling through the bodies, searching for him.

"Harry, he was a Death Eater!" Hermione shouted, trying to stop him, but Harry pushed her away and she fell to the ground hard.

"He was as much a victim as Ron was!" Harry exclaimed, still searching. Finally, he found him, silver-blond hair shining as beautifully as always, his perfect mouth spread into a small smile, and his piercing silver eyes unblinking, staring at the heavens. Harry clutched the body to him, and carried it towards where Ron lay, placing them side by side.

"Don't you see, Hermione?" he asked the woman who stood watching him in bewilderment. "Don't you see? He couldn't escape what he was born to be! He couldn't get out of it! He had no choice... He..." And the tears came thick and fast as he realized just how alike he and Draco really were.

"There's always a choice, Harry," Hermione tried to gently reply, but Harry glared up at her, his teeth set in a grimace.

"Yes, there is always a choice. But sometimes the only choice you have leads you somewhere you are afraid to go..." And Harry watched as she nodded, closed her eyes, fell into his arms, and another piece of her beautiful heart broke.

~Sum finis~