A Lion's Heart

The night was silent, dark, and perfectly still. In the hot summer air, ever leaf and blade of grass that happened to move seemed very out of place and quite conspicuous. Still, the dark shape on an owl growing ever nearer to the abandoned-looking house was hardly noticeable.

Even the lookouts, jumping at a slight breeze that rattled the leaves and straining to see the insect that flattened a piece of grass, did not see the approaching owl. It is likely that -even had they seen it - the owl would not cause them any alarm, for the forest was full of them. Perhaps the stone clutched in the talons of the bird would, too, have been overlooked. The guards were not great owl-studiers; nothing short of an entire house in its clasp would have raised their suspicions. But they saw nothing at all, save the movements of sporadic lightning bugs on the lawn and a few courageous squirrels venturing out of the shadows of the trees.

Once it was upon the house, the owl with its stone glided down into a tree that overhung the rear porch. Landing on a low, large branch, it took special care to make sure the smooth green stone did not fall beyond its reach. And then the owl suddenly became a woman wearing long, black robes and curly brown hair tied back. She grinned at the stone for a moment and then carefully surveyed her surroundings before reaching inside her robes. Delicately, she removed a wand, which she pointed at the stone. Her grin grew wider as she was looking now at a dark-haired young man. He returned a smile, adjusted his glasses, and pushed his hair off his forehead.

"We've arrived then?" he whispered quietly.

She nodded slowly, looking anxious for the first time.

He offered an encouraging sort of smile. "Just think, after this I'll go back to Quidditch, and you'll have every department in the Ministry fighting over you plus the job Dumbledore wants you to have. We'll go back to our quiet home and our normal life together."

She still looked worried but voiced with steady determination, "We're covered all the way up to the house."

"All right. We'd best get on with it then." He didn't move to climb down the tree, however, but instead took her hands in his own. "It'll be all right, Hermione," he spoke fervently. "It's over tonight."

Then he lowered himself to the ground and helped her down from the bough. Removing his own wand from the depths of his robes, he sighed and turned to face the house, the last stronghold of the supporters of Voldemort. He steeled himself to take the first step, when Hermione grabbed the back of his robes.

"Wait!" she cried in a nearly silent voice. He stopped and turned back to her. She was holding out her wedding ring in a trembling hand. Sliding it onto the chain around his neck and refastening it, he watched her take several deep breaths. He slid his own band onto her thumb and on impulse, leaned down and kissed her.

"I-I love you Harry," she breathed into his ear still bent down to her level.

"I love you too," he breathed, and they both moved towards the back door under the shadow of the giant tree they had been in moments earlier. Still, neither made hardly a sound or a dent in the grass.

With a grim expression, both reached the door. Not bothering to test the knob, Harry pointed his wand and whispered, "Alohomora."

The hinges were surprisingly well oiled and the door swung into the house without a creak. The floorboards did not groan beneath their weight, and Harry couldn't help but wonder amusedly that the last group to fall couldn't even find a proper old house to hide in. They reached the top of the stairs without being discovered, but both knew that soon everyone would know of their presence. Walking up an unguarded corridor, Harry felt his heart beginning to pound; Hermione was trembling again. He gripped his wand more tightly yet and saw his wife raise hers and the look in her eyes told him that she was mentally reviewing counter-curses and charms.

"Alohomora."

This door squealed as it opened, and two surprised guards stood staring, mouths agape, at Harry and Hermione.

"Expelliarmus!" the Aurors shouted together. The lookouts' wands flew into the air, but before they could dismay at this development, they were stunned and bound.

Harry pushed his sleeves up. "They're in the next room," he muttered.

They strode to the door, but before Harry had spoken the charm to open the door, it burst open. Simultaneously, at least ten streaks of red light barreled towards them, but Hermione had been prepared with a shield charm. The moment the last had deflected, she lowered her wand and the couple burst into the room, dodging curses and managing a few of their own during breaks in the cursing, which seemed to happen all at once.

Harry was sure that they were winning the battle. Fewer and fewer red lights came flying at him until there were only two, then one, then he was stupefying the last wizard. Hermione stood at his back, perspiring but looking unhurt.

Without warning, Harry's insides went cold. The door on the other side of the room opened, but for a moment, he could not see into the next room. But he didn't need to; he knew already.

"Dementors," he told Hermione exactly as she told him the same.

He didn't wait to hear the screams of his mother or the high cold voice of Lord Voldemort in his mind. Harry bellowed, "Expecto Patronum!!!" The stag Prongs galloped from the end of his wand.

He heard Hermione whisper, "our wedding" a moment before she too cried, "Expecto Patronum!" and a bolt of lightning issued from her wand, charging behind the stag and driving away the dementors.

The room was totally silent for several minutes as both stood panting. Hermione then collapsed into Harry's arms, laughing with relief. He moved to wrap his arms around her but was slammed into a wall.

Hermione gasped. Rising from the floor next to his fallen companions was a single robed figure.

"I believe, Mr. Potter," he said icily, "that you only thought you'd stupefied me. Your mistake, but now I shall kill you both. Her first..."

His hood fell as he turned to point his wand at Hermione; Harry saw the unmistakable face of Lucius Malfoy, more powerful looking than he'd ever remembered the man.

"Bloody meddlers, all of you," he muttered.

This comment gave Harry time to act, and his banishing charm was drowned out by the evil shout, "Avada Kedavra!" It was nonetheless effective as Hermione flew out of the way of the killer green light and landed in a heap on the floor. Undaunted, Malfoy hurled a curse in Harry's direction. He shielded himself, and beckoned his wife to enter into the safety of it. She waited behind the strong, unwavering protection for a pause in the curses during which she could end the battle, but before the perfect moment came, all hell broke loose.

Malfoy's backups - the elder Crabbe and Goyle and the Lestranges - filed out of the adjacent room, grinning sinisterly. With the combined power of their curses, holding up the shield became nearly an impossible task.

Harry knew what he must do. "The first group were decoys," he grunted. "We can't survive this onslaught and they know it."

Hermione saw her husband fighting to hold his wand steady. His face had gone deathly pale, the lightning bolt scar stood out brightly against it.

"When I say so, I'm going to make the shield bigger. It'll give you a minute to run out, change and fly away. I know what I have to do."

She opened her mouth in protest.

"I'll disapparate when I've destroyed the magic surrounding the house," he told her.

"You've got to do as I say."

Hermione nodded. "I'll meet you back at Dumbledore's. I love you, Harry."

She'd hardly finished when he screamed, "NOW!"

The shield Harry had created now filled nearly the entire room. His wife dashed back up the hallway, down the stairs, through the house, and out the back door. She transformed into the tawny owl and flew as fast as her wings could carry her. Hermione didn't look back, but if she had, she would have seen the silent blue explosion that destroyed the entire clearing where the house had stood as she flew back towards home...