Dark Daughter

Chapter 15: The Final Actions

With the plan finally ready to be undertaken, Amy felt that they had to start right away, but not before she took care of one last thing. Everyone was talking with one another, saying goodbye. Many knew that some of them might not see each other again. She bent down next to her little sister.

"I'm scared," the child told her.

"David and Joanne and Ginny will take good care of you," Amy assured her. "But it's okay to be frightened. . . Oh--I love you, Aria."

Aria nodded and then grabbed Amy's hand. She held it more tightly than Amy could ever remember her doing. "You're gonna be okay, Amy," Aria told her. "You don't have to say goodbye."

Amy's emerald eyes filled with tears.

"I don't want you to be scared," said Aria, "You are going to be okay!"

"Aria, you have to listen," said Amy desperately, "there some things that I can't control . . . some things that I have to do. I just want you to remember that I love you."

Aria nodded. "I love you too," she said.

The hugged for a long time, Amy felt that Aria wanted it to go on forever. Finally, Amy stood up and looked around. She noticed that Cornelius Fudge didn't have anyone to say goodbye to him or to wish him luck. She decided that he needed to know that someone cared (even if she didn't). She walked up to him and held out a hand. He flinched.

"I--I just wanted to wish you luck," she said.

Fudge took it slowly and cautiously. "Th-thank you," he said. "Y-you too."

Hmm, Amy thought later, he isn't that bad.

Jason, Joanne, Amy, Derek and David approached each other. They hesitated for a moment and then embraced in a great big group hug. Amy found tears sliding down her cheeks.

"You'll be okay," said Jason bracingly.

"I love you guys," said Amy. "I truly do! You're my best friends!"

"We love you too, Amy," said David. Who would ever imagine that they would have this kind of conversation? That they would say something like this aloud?

"Take care of her," said Amy, giving Aria's hand to David.

"I will," David promised.

"I hate to say it," growled Moody, "but all of us need to get going."

Everyone agreed and The Heirs of Hogwarts assembled at he cave entrance. The entire group stared at them for a moment. Each with different color robes: red, with a golden lions head at the collar; dark green with a silver, serpent shaped S at the collar; blue with a bronze eagle at the collar; and yellow with a pewter badger's head at the collar.

They left second, slowly and silently. Amy clutched the sorting hat like a tiny child holding a teddy bear. She couldn't bring herself to look at her sister again. She just couldn't bring herself to let anyone know what she was really going to do. No one knew what was going to happen to her--no one knew the truth.

"Where do we go," asked Harry.

"To Voldemort," said Amy, stuffing her mixed emotions aside. "We go north."

They all clenched their teeth and fists and walked towards their destinies . . . and, possibly, to their doom.

* * *

(Several hours later)

Jason Black, Derek Abbott, Hannah Abbott, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and Mordicus Flint kept their senses alert as they scanned the forest.

"So," said Derek, "we need to get to the first holding camp on the map." He pulled out the map that Draco had found lying on the ground a few hours before. "That should be south--"

"It should be right over there," interrupted Draco, pointing southeast.

They walked as quietly as they possibly could through the dense foliage until they heard voices. It was Draco's father and Mordicus' brother.

"The Cruciatus Curse isn't working on some of them," Marcus Flint was saying. "They just refuse to talk."

"Veritaserum," Malfoy said softly.

Flint took the word as a command and ran from the presence of his fellow Death Eater, who began to laugh. His laughter was mirthless and cold. Draco winced and pulled Mordicus away, who was clenching his fists. When they were out of earshot of the laughing man, Flint growled.

"Him!" he snarled. "It was him! He was the traitor! My family's been against the Dark Side for as long as I can remember and he ruined it all!"

He fought Draco's grip and struggled to get to his brother, Jason was sure that he would kill his sibling if he were set free. He and Derek exchanged glances.

"Your family?" sniggered Jason. "Your family was against the Dark Side?" He gave hollow laugh. "Then what made you?"
Mordicus lunged at Jason and hit him in the eye. Jason punched his nose and it began to bleed. The fight was completely silent, but nevertheless fierce. Derek endeavored to pull his friend away but received a blow in the face for his efforts. Draco did the same, but Flint kicked out, hitting him in the knee. Malfoy fell to the earth in shock, and was temporarily lame. Ron and Hannah watched with horror, not so much in for the two stupid third years' safety, but because of the fear that they might be caught.

"That's enough!" hissed Hannah, sounding like an angry goose.

The fray stopped immediately, or at least long enough for Derek and Draco to drag them apart. Both of the boys had bloody noses, Jason had bruise rising under his right eye and Mordicus had a swelling, bleeding lip. Hannah delivered the last blow by slapping each of them hard in the face, which everyone felt they deserved.

"We're on a mission together!" she breathed harshly, sounding nothing like the shy, polite Hufflepuff that Ron and Draco knew. Derek, however, seemed used to it, but also seemed to know that he should be afraid. "You're going to get us all killed! So," she took a deep steadying breath, as though stopping the ranting that they would have been in for. She cast around for a solution. "At least make a truce until this war is over, like Harry and Ron and Draco did. Go on, shake hands."

They didn't move until Hannah glared furiously at them. Derek let go of Jason's arms reluctantly and Draco released Mordicus' shoulders as though he was doing it against his better judgment. They shook hands, giving each other hateful looks. It reminded Ron forcefully of Sirius and Snape the night Voldemort had returned.

Which reminded him of something else--he had some questions to ask.

"You didn't know that your brother was working for You-Know-Who?" he asked. "How?"

"He was supposed to be at work!" exclaimed Flint, nearly breaking free of the Draco's grip as he now fought to keep Mordicus from going after his brother.

"There's nothing you can do," said Hannah soothingly, not sounding so angry anymore, but warm and kind again. "We will beat him and the rest of the Death Eaters and . . . and serve them all right!"

"I'm gonna kill him first," Flint said, baring his teeth.

"Flint," said Ron. "We have a job to do, remember?"

Somehow, and miraculously, it was these words that seemed to bring Mordicus back to his senses. He stopped struggling and Draco loosened his hold and he gave Ron an almost grateful look. Somehow, the young Malfoy seemed to have changed during the time he'd been in the forest. His hero--his father--was wrong. He had realized that everything he'd ever been brought up to believe was wrong and it caused pain. He had felt the pain first hand. His eyes didn't seem quite so cold.

Ron looked at him. Draco was gazing, terrified over Ron's and Jason's shoulders. The two turned quickly to see Mr. Malfoy standing by a nearby tree.

"Well, well, well," he said coolly. "If it isn't Dumbledore's little squad of children. Out to save the world, are we?"

He sounded completely insane. Hannah pulled her brother protectively behind her back and Jason snatched Mordicus' arms in case he lost it again. But this time, Draco lost control. Unfortunately, Ron wasn't quick enough. The young Malfoy lunged himself at his father, cursing as he did so. Ron leapt to stop him, but Lucius was quicker.

He yelled a curse, which sent his son flying into a tree just behind them. Draco hit it with tremendous force. He groaned and slumped to the ground. Ron stepped backwards, not taking his eyes off of Malfoy Senior, and knelt next to the Malfoy son, who was bleeding from a cut on his temple and from his nose, and . . . Ron realized with a trill of horror . . . his mouth! Ron hoped that it was merely a wound inside his mouth, rather than internal injuries. Draco looked up at him dully, a trickle of blood sliding from his lips down his chin.

Ron remembered all of the times he and Malfoy had fought, all of the times he'd called Hermione a Mudblood. All of it seemed not to matter anymore. Something in him--something deep down--told him to cast it aside. Reluctantly, the Weasley boy pushed his hate away. They had more important work to do. He laid a hand on Malfoy's shoulder, whose breath rasped and chest just barely rose and fell.

Death Eaters emerged from the forest around them. They grabbed each of the teens' arms and held them behind their backs. Lucius Malfoy pulled his own son to his feet. Draco staggered in front of his father, who was constraining him. Ron felt helpless. Now they'd done it, they hadn't even lasted four hours and they'd been caught. How was the group going to get of this? He watched as Malfoy struggled to walk while being forced onward by his father.

He had never been that bad. He had only wanted what was expected of him. Ron knew that he would do anything to make his family proud, why was it such a crime that Draco wanted to do the same? But then, he thought, when it all comes down to it, there is a time when you have to decide what is right or wrong for yourself and choose your own path, even if it means you have turn away from the one expected of you. And Draco had done that, hadn't he? He'd turned away from his father, even when it could mean death. Ron felt a new respect for the person he'd once hated. He felt that way about a lot of people now. Even Snape. The time in this forest had taught Ron that it is choices that decide who a person is. People could change. Everything on earth had the power to change. Just like seasons, nothing stayed the same. Even friendships changed, some for the worse and many for the better. Ron now knew this. And now was the time to test that knowledge.

They were guided though towering walls of black, skeletal, thorny bushes that glowed green in the dark. They were handed to dementors, which made each and everyone of them feel sick and weak. Ron's happy and hopeful thoughts were quickly wiped from his mind, replaced by despair. Derek was swaying.

God, they were in a mess! In all of his life, Ron never would have expected to be in the place he was now. With cold, clammy hands on their shoulders, each of them was defenseless. Draco was being dragged. But Jason was fighting and wrestling desperately. They passed other cave-dungeons like the ones Voldemort had kept them in on the cliff where Dumbledore was killed. They could hear screaming from inside. The Death Eaters were obviously torturing students for information--or maybe just for fun.

"Take them in that one," said a Death Eater--Micnair. He smiled nastily at them and indicated a small cave with grimy spider web-like sheets hanging in front of the entrance.

Jason gulped. He had given up trying to fight now. As they were forced through, the sheets of dirt stroked their faces, leaving them wet with a green, glutinous liquid and very cold. Jason and the others were all shoved into the same cell. Jason flung out his arms to break his fall. Ron rolled a few inches, Derek landed with a smack, Hannah skidded on the slimy floor, Mordicus landed on his tailbone and Draco and the stone collided with a soft thud and he lay motionless. The dementors left immediately, as though they had bigger fish to fry.

Ron crawled over to his limp enemy while Hannah asked if Derek was all right and Jason helped Mordicus to his feet, which proved impossible because the ground was so wet and covered in greenish-black slime, sending them pain back to the earth.

"What did his father do to him?" asked Hannah, coming over to Ron.

"I don't know," said Ron. "Malfoy? Malfoy, are you all right?"

"Kind of a stupid question," said Flint, who was rubbing his backside and seemingly very grumpy, as anyone would be.

Ron knew he was right. "Malfoy--you there?"

Nothing.

"We've got to get out of here," said Jason. Everyone looked at him, faintly annoyed. "Well, we do." he said, shrugging.

"Is that all you can think about?" asked Hannah indignantly. "Someone here is hurt really bad and all that crosses your mind is escaping?"

"We have a mission," Jason retorted angrily. "We're in the middle of a war and all that you can think about is one hurt person when people are dying all over the world?"

Hannah struggled for a comeback, but Ron, feeling very hot in the face, said, "You don't know that people all over the world are dying!"
"I do," said Jason vehemently. "Voldemort has started his rein--or is trying to--and he has Death Eaters all over! How can you ignore it when war and death are slapping you in the face?"

No one found a comeback for this. Derek looked furious and was getting ready to punch his friend in the face, but a soft moan stopped him.

"He's right," said the hoarse voice of Draco Malfoy.

Everyone directed his or her attention at him now. He sat up gingerly and looked at Jason.

"I don't think you should do that, Malfoy," said Hannah.

"I've had this done to me before," said Draco. All of the old silky drawl was out of his voice now. "It's fine. And Black's right, we can't stop fighting because one of us is hurt or--or killed. More people are dying this very second!"

No one could argue with Draco. He had become somewhat of a leader. Feeling very grateful towards the Slytherin, Jason asked if he was all right.

"Does he look all right?" asked Derek sarcastically.

"I'm fine," snapped Draco, looking at Derek. "I was always under the impression that the two of you were good friends."

"We are," said Jason, giving Derek a hurt look.

"We were," growled Derek, "until you went and gave us away!"

"I did not!" Jason sounded shocked. His voice held no hint of anger.

"Yeah you did!" exclaimed Hannah. "You two idiots attracted Mr. Malfoy with your ridiculous fighting!"

Jason scowled, but felt that she was right. He went red and looked down. He wanted to apologize, but his anger and frustration stopped him. He wanted to cry, but the numbness that had settled within all of them, held back the tears. He wanted to give up, but the memory of Dumbledore pushed him forward. Mordicus seemed to be thinking hard, but Jason felt no inclination to find out what.

He tried to get up, but the ground was so slippery that he promptly fell on his butt. Cursing, he crawled over to the wall while everyone watched him silently. He gripped at its smoothness and tried to get up, only to slide down again. He cursed once more. No one came to his aid, and Jason felt truly alone for the first time in--his life! His eyes burned at the emotion, but he stopped thinking about it and they cooled.

There had to be away out, there just had to! But there were no windows, no ropes, no stupid Death Eaters sleeping by the bars with keys hanging from their pockets--this was the real world, and this time, there was no way out. Jason looked at his group.

"You want to get out of here, right?" he said.

"Even if we do get out, it won't make any difference," said Hannah.

"Evans gave us an impossible task," said Mordicus, speaking for the first time in minutes. "How could we break this place open? It's probably been days since the attack started and I'm sure many people have tried to free their friends."

"How can you give up?" Jason cried, finding tears in his eyes. "Your friends are dying!"

"There's nothing we can do," said Ron, who was giving in as well. "What power do we have against You-Know-Who?"

"Love!" Jason shot back. He was barely even thinking about what was coming out of his mouth and didn't care if it sounded stupid. "It's all we're clinging to! And I know that you still have it in your hearts--I know you do!"

Draco was looking pensive. Rather reluctantly, he said, "He is right, you know."

"There's a way out of here if we just put our heads together," said Jason. "There has to be."

"This is the real world, Black," said Mordicus. "And sometimes evil wins out in the end."
"Not in this tale!" said Jason. He was so frustrated that he would have happily slammed his fist into the stone wall. "Okay, I can see it in your eyes. You're giving up. We all know that we're probably gonna die, and--hell--we probably won't be able to distract the Death Eaters or free the camps. But--but you choose--do you want to die giving up, or fighting for what you believe in?"

Each and every one of them was caught by these words. This was the question that had to be answered, what would they die for--death with honor, or a few more hours of life? Before they could answer, however, footsteps approached their cave.

"Nothing can save you, boy," said a cruel, hissing voice.

Everyone looked to the door and gasped. Lord Voldemort stood on the threshold. His eyes were no longer glowing, but still red and piercing, as though he could sense all of their fear. Jason and Draco straitened up, but the rest cowered before him. Jason never would have imagined such fear in his body--in his heart. Sure, he'd been on the cliff with Voldemort when Dumbledore had been killed, but Voldemort had been interested in Amy, not him.

Resisting the urge to back away, Jason looked him boldly in the eye. "I'm not afraid," he lied.

"Oh, yes you are," Voldemort hissed. "I know all, boy!"

Jason scowled. Surprisingly, this made his terror lessen. He was braver. He was about to say that Voldemort was a liar, when the Dark Lord pointed his wand at Draco and said, "Crucio!"

Draco began to convulse and scream. He jerked horribly in front of the Dark Lord, terrible pain consuming every part of his body. Every nerve was at breaking point. He wanted to die. More than anything, he wanted to die. Please, let it all be over soon . . . please!

But it continued. Ron was desperate to do something. He'd heard from Harry how awful the Cruciatus Curse was, but he never imagined that the screams could dig so deeply into your soul. Evans had only whimpered. He had to do something.

But he could only watch. And he as he watched, realized that there was something strange about what he was seeing. He noticed that an almost invisible line connected Voldemort's wand and Draco's chest. Ron wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't looked so hard. Something told him that it was more than just his own powers that let him see it. Without thinking, as though by instinct, he snatched a rock from the ground and placed it in front of the wand-line.

Draco stopped writhing and amazingly the rock reflected Voldemort's curse onto the curser. The Dark Lord screeched in agony. Hannah pulled her brother over to her (this was made easy buy the slippery grime) and clutched him to her chest. He fought to escape, but she clung on. She had good reason. Jason knew what was coming seconds before it happened, as did Mordicus. The two slid away from the Dark Lord, yelled for Ron to look out and curled into protective balls.

Ron shouted and did the same. Through his arms and almost closed eyelids, he saw Voldemort give on last holler and then disappear from sight. The place exploded. Well, it seemed to explode. A ripple of power, much like the ones Amy and the Heirs had experience coursed throughout the concentration camp. Every Death Eater, every dementor, every dark creature in the service of the Dark Lord was whisked away with him as he retreated.

Jason found himself temporarily limp and numb with shock and the exhaustion of all the nights and hours without sleep. Something was hurting his head, though he couldn't remember being hit with anything. He must have lain there for some time, dazed and almost unconscious from the explosion, because someone turned him over tenderly.

"Jason?" It was Derek. "Jason are you all right? Jason!"

He opened his eyes. The whole group was floating strangely above him. Jason wondered distantly whether something had happened to him. He was dizzy and his head hurt so badly that it felt as though it was about to burst into a thousand pieces, particularly a place just in the back of his head.

"Wha . . . happed?" he mumbled.

"You--you hit your head," stuttered Derek. "Everyone thought that you were dead for a minute."

"You all right?" asked Mordicus awkwardly.

"'M fine," said Jason. He sat up and looked around. An appalling thought occurred to him. "No one's--died from the explosion, have they?"

"We don't know," whispered Hannah. "We were kinda worried about you."

"I'm fine," said Jason. He got to his feet and found that the slime was gone. Despite this, he fell backward, consumed by a wave of dizziness. Darkness threatened to overwhelm him, but Derek came to his aid.

"You're sure you can walk?" he asked pulling Jason's arm around his shoulders.

"My head," Jason grunted. "Dizzy."

"Sit down." His friend tried to lower him back onto the ground.

"No."

"But Jason--" Derek began.

"I can walk," said Jason as the instability faded. "We've wasted enough time." He pushed his friend away. "I can--oof!"

Derek caught him again. "Let me help you."

"All right." It was hard for Jason to admit that he needed help, but he did and that was that. He found that it was easier to move with a friend by his side and soon he was walking on his own.

Another discovery was that the roof of the cave had blasted outward and several chucks of it were lying strewn around the flat, stone floor.

"Looks hopeless, huh?" commented Mordicus, getting up.

"If we could survive then there's no reason to think that no one else did," Ron told them stubbornly.

"Let's look around in pairs," suggested Hannah. "I'll go with Ron, Draco and Mordicus, and Jason and Derek."

"Good idea," said Jason.

They separated. Ron was truly in aw at how much impact the Dark Lord's power had on the camp.

"What's with your brother?" he asked Hannah.

"Huh?"

"I mean, why was he acting like that to Jason? I always thought that they, Fletcher, Davies and Evans were really close!"

"So was I," said Hannah. She thought for a moment, while leading the way to a particularly large cave that had its entrance hidden by rocks. "I think it's You-Know-Who."

"What d'you mean?" Ron was confused.

"I mean--you remember what Dumbledore said at the end of year feast last year?"

"I'll never forget it."

"He said that You-Know-Who's power for spreading mistrust is great. You remember? Well, I think he can cause mistrust among friends easily. I think it's a dark magic. And Derek and Joanne were always the ones who weren't as close to the others. Yeah, Joe and Amy were, but not as a whole. You heard Amy and Jason. And poor Jason was no doubt always mistrusted a tiny bit by the others because of his uncle--"

"What?" Ron burst out, not thinking. "Sirius?"

"Yes, him," Hannah continued, irritated by his interruption. "So, I think You-Know-Who destroys the close but not as close friendships--or at least makes the friends not trust each other for as long as he's around. You get my point?"

"A little," said Ron.

A faint moan reached their highly alert ears (their senses had become more keen during the time in the forest).

"It came from over there," said Ron, pointing to their left and speaking as quietly as possible so that if the person made noise again, he would hear it. The two slunk over to the spot, which was covered in rubble.

"Hello," Hannah called. "Anyone there?"

There was a whimper of fear from within the small cave of rock.

"It's okay," said Ron. "The Death Eaters are gone! We're here to help!"

"We can't get out," said a muffled voice from under the rock.

"How many people?" asked Ron.

"Two."

"Hang on for a moment," Hannah said calmly. She turned to Ron. "You remember that spell that we learned from Moody?"

Why isn't she best friends with Hermione? They're both sponges at this sort of thing! Ron thought. "Yeah, lets do it."

They took each other's hands, closed their eyes and concentrated hard on blowing the large chunks of rock to smithereens. There was a sound as though thousands of pieces of glass were breaking. Ron opened his eyes a fraction of an inch to make sure it was clear.

"Hannah," he hissed. "It's okay."

Hannah opened her eyes. The stones were gone and two people sat curled in balls before them. One had dark hair that was in dreadlocks, dark skin, a muscular, teenage boyish form and very dirty robes. The other was small and obviously female, with short, light brown hair and pale skin. She was shivering, as was the boy. The boy looked up.

Ron recognized him as Lee Jordan at once.

"Lee!" he exclaimed.

"Ron?" Lee's voice was hoarse.

Ron bent close to help him up while Hannah inspected the girl. She whimpered and lifted her small head. She was first year--Ravenclaw? Whichever house she was in, she seemed petrified.

"It's all right," Hannah cooed. "We're not going to hurt you."

Lee wasn't getting to his feet. "Ron . . . " he croaked. Ron realized what he needed. He bent down and let Lee throw his arms around him.

The fifth and seventh year embraced for quite a while, though Ron was never truly sure how long. He felt that he too needed it. Another human's embrace was like a breath of life and he felt stronger. When they released one another, Ron saw that Hannah had an arm around the girl. She was so small that she looked no older than Aria. She had her arms tight around Hannah's waist.

"That's Kate," Lee explained croakily. "We were cell mates and kinda got close." He stared at Kate concernedly.

"I--I want m-my mum!" cried Kate.

"You'll see her soon, Kate," Hannah told her, holding her close. "But I'll care for you for now, if that's all right."

"I want Lee!" sobbed Kate, raising her streaming face. She was obviously very clingy.

"I'm right here," said Lee. He opened his arms and Kate embraced him. Watching them, it wouldn't have been surprising if they were brother and sister.

And it was this--these small, but powerful actions--which made Ron and Hannah realize that not all of the effects of the war were bad. Swallowing hard to fight a wave of emotion, Hannah told them that they had to search for others. Lee explained that the caves in this area had been empty.

"We'd still better go look," said Hannah.

Their feet crunched on the gravel and Lee held Kate's hand tightly like a protective older brother or parent. It seemed to Hannah that Kate had been tortured for fun and now she was extremely shaken and tormented by the mere memories. Lee continued to explain that they were being tortured for information. Even those who gave were tortured further for--fun.

Finally, Lee proved correct. They blasted rocks and walls, but found no one else.

"Oy," called Jason from the other end of the prison. Kate jumped a foot in the air and clutched Lee's arm exceptionally hard. "Ron and Hannah! Have you found anything?"

"Just two!" Ron hollered back. "There's no one else in this area!"

"Come back, then," Jason said, he was running to them, apparently desperate to get them to wherever the others were staying. "We found twenty," he explained, halting in front of them. "One's Madam Pomfrey."

"Excellent," said Lee. "I bet she'll help a lot!"

"She's already looking at the students," said Jason, grinning slightly. Apparently, the discovery of the nurse alive and well was a major improvement. But then his grin went out like a light. "We found someone dead," he whispered. "We can't identify their body--t-too--too mangled."

Everyone swallowed hard. That wasn't such good news. Ron was lost in horrible thoughts about who it might be as he and Jason led the others back to the gates. Hannah was surprised to see that the thorny bushes were no longer as dark, nor were they green.

"You all look terrible!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, looking at them. She hurried over and felt Ron and Hannah's foreheads. She didn't exactly look like her usual self either. She was pale, her usually neat graying brown hair was flying in all directions and Hannah could tell that she'd been under the Cruciatus Curse for long periods of time.

"Well, you're better than the rest," the nurse was saying. "I hear you six weren't captured?"

"We were," said Ron. "Draco, Jason and I were--anyway, but we got away. We met You-Know-Who with a whole bunch of other people. Everyone survived except--except Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore," Pomfrey whispered. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed Dumbledore?"

They nodded mutely. Draco dashed over them, in seemingly high spirits. He was carrying a bundle of what might have been rocks; only they were smooth and round.

"Look what found!" he cried, like a little boy who'd found a lizard. Ron would never have expected Malfoy to act like this.

"What're those?" asked the nurse incredulously.

"Callers," Draco explained excitedly. "All you have to is through them into a camp and all of the people working for the Dark Lord, will go back to him."

"That's really Dark Magic, Draco!" Hannah said indignantly. "We're are NOT using Dark Magic of any sort!"

"We have to Hannah," said Derek, appearing at her elbow. He turned to Malfoy. "You think You-Know-Who used that to dismiss all of the Death Eaters and dementors?"

"I'm sure of it," said Draco. "I've also got some Magical Mines, in case we need them. It's a miracle none of them went off."

"We can't use evil to fight evil!" Hannah shouted, angry that her remark had been almost entirely ignored.

"It's not evil," Jason explained as Madam Pomfrey struggled to tend to a large and wide incision on the side of his arm. "It's Dark Magic, but the only way we can fight the Dark Lord is to hit him with his own medicine!" He punched the air enthusiastically with his wounded arm, but then, seeing the unconvinced look on Hannah's dirty face, he withdrew his hand from the air and said, "Besides, the Ministry's used these Callers thousands of times! In fact, you can read about it in The Ministry, A History in the library--" His face fell. "Er--that is if there is a library left . . . "

He thought about the look on Hermione Granger and Amy's faces if they found out the library had been blown to bits.

"What are you lot talking about?" Pomfrey asked, as though she thought they'd gone mad.

"Well--we're kinda on a mission," said Ron slowly. "You see--Amy Evans found a way to destroy Voldemort forever. The thing is, she and the people needed can't do it on their own."

"Our job is to distract the Death Eaters," said Derek. "And to free everyone in the camps. That's why these--Callers? --will come in handy."

"Exactly," said Draco, who, like everyone else, was trying to convince Hannah that they were okay.

"So," said Pomfrey slowly. "You'll be leaving again."

"Yes."

"We should probably go now," said Ron. "We can't waste time."

"Okay, okay," said Hannah. "Is there any more supplies we can get from here?"

"No," said Mordicus. "There's some food, but it looked like it was poisoned. I threw it over the cliff so no one would be stupid and eat it."

"You're probably right," Jason told him. They made eye contact for a second, and Derek thought he saw trust and understanding flash between the two.

The people around them seemed to be a little panicked.

"I think I'll stay with Madam Pomfrey, if that's all right," said Derek, making up his mind. "She can't do this alone."

"You're sure?" asked Jason, for some reason, he didn't want Derek to stay.

"Yeah," said Derek. "I--I'm sorry, for acting like such a jerk, I mean."

"Yeah, me too," admitted Jason.

"We need to go now!" said Draco, who now had to shout over the commotion of the newly formed crowd. "You've made your decision, Abbott?'

"Yes," said Derek, very clearly, "I need to help here."

"Bye then," said Jason, and the group of Dumbledore's workers left their comrade to help rid the world of the evil that had ensnared it.

* * *

With Ginny in the lead, she and her group (Joanne Davies, David Fletcher, Aria Evans and Dobby) made for the edge of the forest. Aria clung to David's hand as though he was her older brother and Ginny herself held Dobby's hand so hard that it must have hurt, but house-elves never complained.

"H'long . . . " panted David, "d'you--think . . . we've got . . . until we reach . . . the edge . . . of the . . . forest?"

"I . . . don't know," gasped Ginny, the group was almost running flat out. "B-but it should . . . be close, we've . . . been going like this . . . for ages."

The forest was beginning to open up, the trees were father apart, but no light shone through the new gaps in the canopy trees. They began to walk slower, either because of exhaustion or because they felt more exposed in the absence of thick growth all around them. It was very quiet.

David hoisted Aria off the ground and carried her with her bottom resting on his hip. She held his neck tightly and whimpered into it.

"Shhh," he breathed. "'S okay."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a heavy branch of some sort swung at his head. It him with such force that David was knocked to the ground and out. Aria screamed and went flying out of his arms. She was quick scramble back over to him. She looked up into the eyes of a dark man with dark hair, a long, thin mustache and a mad gleam in his eyes. She had met him many times before. Lestrange was his name, wasn't it? He sneered. He was pointing his wand right between her eyes.

Ginny, Joanne and Dobby were thrown down beside them. Aria didn't move. She knew what that slender piece of wood could do. Ginny clutched Dobby to her chest as though he were her child. Joanne pulled Aria toward her chest. Aria didn't budge. She didn't even have a chance before she heard, "Stupefy!"

* * *

"I do worry about those children," said Filius, as he struggled to keep up with those that were much taller than him.

"Me too," said Remus. "But . . . " he struggled for a moment, "th-they are our future."

Hermione looked up at him, her face showed obvious concern. He nodded to show that he was all right.

"Remus," squeaked the tiny professor. "Why did you ever leave?"

Startled, Remus looked down at his old colleague. It was a surprise to here this, as Flitwick had been very mistrusting at the beginning of the year that Remus had taught at Hogwarts.

"I felt that I was a danger to the students," he said simply. "I'd made a foolish mistake and I couldn't allow myself to even have the chance of making it again."

"Ah."

"I always thought that you were fired," said Fudge.

Hermione scowled at the Minister. She seemed to know that he wouldn't be the Minister for much longer.

"How on earth are we going to get all of the Death Eaters out of the castle?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," said Filius, who suddenly realized that Hermione was the only girl and child in the group.

"I've been thinking," said Hermione. She does that a lot, thought Remus. "We may need to use the weapons of the enemy."

The entire company stopped dead and looked at her. She had just said the words that most of them feared most of all. From the way Amy spoke of using the Dark Arts in the way that Voldemort did, none of them wanted anything to do with them. No one could forget the flash of terror in her eyes as she remembered them.

"You're right, Hermione," said Remus softly. Everyone's gaze shifted to him. "She is," he continued to his company. "We have nothing else to use and, therefore, we must find a way."

Hermione seemed very out of place amongst all of the adults, but she contended with it. I've got to help, she thought. I'm one of the few who can.

The trees were slowly becoming wider apart. Hermione's anxiety grew. She knew that once they reached Hogwarts it would be a living hell. Fear flooded her. How were they going to face so many Death Eaters? It wasn't like in muggle movies, where the villains were always stupid and slower than the good-guy. The Death Eaters were clever, faster, and more prepared than any of them were.

Finally, after about an hour more of silent and swift walking, they reached the edge of the forest. Hermione squinted in the darkness. The forest, with its knee-high, white fog, seemed lighter than the grounds. The cloud of darkness was tinged the color of rust--of blood. The grounds were completely still, except for three shapes moving up to the castle, dragging five other shapes along behind them.

Hermione recognized one as Dobby.

"That's the messenger group!" she whispered. "They've been captured!"

"I suppose we have to help them then," said Diggory, speaking for the first time and sounding bored and reluctant.

"We do," said Remus. "And, for that, we need Callers."

* * *

Joanne opened her eyes. Dark. It was dark and cold. She could feel someone shivering beside her.

"Aria?" she hissed, remembering her silent promise to Amy.

"I'm here," sobbed the child, who was, as it appeared, the person shaking next to her. "I'm scared."

"It'll be okay," Joanne assured her, not believing her own words.

"Is David okay?" Aria asked.

"I don't know," said Joanne, realizing that her eyes were adjusting to the almost non-existent light.

After awhile of searching, Joanne found David. She could hear his ragged breathing.

"David," she whispered. "Dave, can you hear me?"

Terrified, she shuffled forward and placed a hand on his heart. Her friend was definitely alive, but he was hurt. As she felt his body, her hand touched a gash on the side of his head. She remembered that Lestrange had hit him. Damn it!

"Muh?" came a faint sound below her.

"Dave!" Joanne cried, hugging him without thinking.

"Argh!" he yelled, clutching his head.

"Oh, David," sobbed Joanne, "I'm so sorry! Are you all right?"

"Head," her friend grunted. "They hit me hard!"

"I know," said a voice behind them.

It was Ginny. She was dragging Dobby, who seemed dazed.

"Is he . . . ?" asked Aria.

"He'll be fine," Ginny whispered. She stared hopelessly around. "How're we going to get out of here?"

"I dunno," said David, sitting up and swaying as he did so.

"Looks like they hit you hard," commented Ginny. "You sure you should be getting up?"

"Probably not," said David, but he didn't do anything more.

"Lay down," Ginny ordered.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"You're shaking, Dave," Joanne noted. "Ginny's right."

"I'm fine," David insisted, though he knew that his head was throbbing.

Before anyone could tell him otherwise, a Death Eater strode in. He leered down at the group of children and the house-elf. Dobby seemed to have recovered and was gazing up at the Death Eater with utmost terror.

"Malfoy's elf," he chuckled. "What a disgrace! It was working against us all of this time. Tut-tut!" He turned to Aria. "And of course, little Evans, whose worth was overestimated."

"Dolohov," the seven year-old breathed boldly at him, "the one who let me get away."

The entire group looked at Aria as though she was either insane or the bravest person in the world. Dobby looked at her as though she were both. Dolohov raised his wand. Another Death Eater walked in as he opened his mouth. This Death Eater was heavyset with dark eyebrows. He reminded Ginny forcefully of Victor Krum. In fact, he looked almost exactly like Krum.

"Antonin," he exclaimed. He had a very gruff voice, as though he didn't speak much. Just like Viktor Krum! "The Dark Lord told us not to harm them . . . not yet." He smiled evilly down at them.

"Krum?" whispered Joanne. "Viktor Krum?"

"Ah," said the Death Eater. "You are mistaking me for my son." His lip curled again. "No, he was not as smart as I was. But now . . . " an insane grin came over his face. "I have control over him. Just as any father should!"

Joanne gasped as a thin boy of about 18 stumbled into the room. His eyes had a far-away look in them. He was pale as death, with dark hair, thick eyebrows and a face like a bird of prey. It was the real Viktor Krum. His father muttered something.

"Nuh," the bony boy answered.

This angered Krum senior. It was obvious that his son was fighting the curse. None of them had any doubt which curse was giving the cruel father such control. The Imperious Curse.

Mr. Krum yelled something furiously in Bulgarian.

"NO!" shouted Viktor. And with that, he collapsed onto the floor.

"Very vell," said Krum. He turned and left. Dolohov followed, staring at the boy with scorn.

Ginny crawled over to Krum and turned him over. He had blood seeping down over his lips do to a bloody nose. His right eye was swollen shut and black. He looked just as he had when the Bludger had slammed into his face. The teenager opened his eyes.

"Muh?" he whispered. Suddenly, he realized why he was lying on his back and gazing up at a freckled, redheaded girl. He sat bolt upright and swore (well, the assumed that it was swearing because it was in Bulgarian). And then, realizing what he was doing, Viktor turned to the group beside him. "Sorry."

"That's all right," said Joanne. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," said Krum. "Vhat are you doing here? I sought all of the students have been captured."

"Many of them were," said David, beginning to nod, but stopping instantly. "But we're on a mission to help stop it. You see, there's this girl who knows how to kill You-Know-Who and she gave us missions so that we could help."

"Oh," said Krum. "And vhat are you doing help?"

"We're sending messages around the Wizarding World," said Joanne. "They need to know that Hogwarts was involved in the attack."

"I vill help," said Viktor automatically. "I have not been able to stop myself from doing terrible things. But now--now I can stop myself and--and--now I can help."

"Thanks Krum," said David. "We could use some more help anyway."

Viktor seemed happy about this. Ginny was about to say something but then there was an unexpected blast behind them.

* * *

People were running, screaming. Derek didn't know what to do next. As the Death Eaters began to fire curses at the students. He blocked those thrown at him, but had little to defend himself with other than a rock. A seventh year girl shrieked as she was stunned and crumpled to the ground, motionless. Alone. He was alone. No one could help him now. He raised the Caller in his hand and then lowered, mournfully it. It surely wasn't powerful enough.

He turned his head slowly and hopelessly toward a small figure lying next to Lee. Lee was dead. And there was Kate, the little crying girl she was screeching as a Death Eater advanced upon her. He raised his wand. It was then--just then--that Derek made the choice--and last--of his lifetime. Knowing what the curse was going to be, he yelled, "NO!" and threw himself between the girl and the curse just as the curser cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

Derek heard the rush of his speeding death while Kate watched in horror for the split second that she had to see the boy die. And as Derek Abbott, younger bother of Hannah Abbott and best friend of Amy Evans, fell to the ground tears welled in her eyes and began to spill down her front. At the same moment, the hand holding the Caller hit the ground. It exploded with such force that all of the camp exploded with bright light and the Death Eaters were banished once again, never to return.

Kate crawled to the boy's side. He was dead for sure, just like Lee. Touching his hand lightly, she whispered, "Thank you."

* * *

"What happened to this place?" wondered Jason as he gazed upon the next prison.

It was flooded with dementors. There were no humans in sight. Confused, Draco cocked his head slightly. The place was, obviously, colder than the other, but it not to hear any sounds or signs of human activity. All that they could here were the dementors soft, hissing but screechy voices. It was like hearing nails on a chalkboard in a room far away.

"There are students," hissed Mordicus. "There has to be!"

"Shall we throw the Callers now?" asked Hannah.

"No," breathed Draco. "We need to be in different parts of the camp in order for it to work. Flint, you go the north edge. Come in as quietly. Try to stay closer to the wall. Black come in through the southwest wall. Do the same as Flint. Try not to been seen. The same for you Abbott, but you go through the southeast barrier." He turned to Ron and grimaced, as did Ron, who knew what was coming. "Weasley, you--you come with me. We're going in through the eastern barrier. We'll get to the center. When we set off our Callers, you guys do the same."

Everyone agreed. Again, Ron was struck with how odd it was to here Draco speak without the silky drawl. He was so obviously different that he wondered how it really could be.

He and Draco separated from the others, each with two Callers in their hands. Draco was silent as he broke a hole in the fence of thorns. With their robes considerable more tattered than before, the boys moved on without cease. Draco was terrified that it wouldn't work. He noted that the people he did see inside the tents, cells and caves were all either unconscious or shivering. The dementors were obviously affecting them worse than they were him. Miraculously, he and Weasley were not seen.

They passed the dementors in silence and there were countless times that they were nearly spotted--or sensed. Finally, they reached the center. In it was a large clearing. No trees grew here, nor was there any sign that they had at any time. The ground glowed faintly green. Draco felt sick; he always did when exposed to such deeply dark magic. He felt even colder. The dementor's cold must be affecting him worse here. Weasley was green. Abruptly, they were thrown forward onto the green and sinister earth.

Draco rolled over and got to his feet, Weasley doing the same. A towering dementor stood before them, larger than they'd ever seen. It glided silently to where they stood. Neither Draco nor Ron moved.

"You are foolissssh humanssss," it hissed. "You are not sssstrong enough to withsssstand ussss!"

Draco's stomach grew cold. Mist began to creep into the corners of his vision. He didn't blame Potter for fainting--this was horrid. Remembering the Caller in his hand, he held it up above his head, and Weasley did the same. They plunged them down to the earth with immense force. The world exploded and the two were sent hurtling backwards.

Draco hit the ground. His head smacked something hard and all was blackness

* * *

Joanne looked up. Aria was clutching her robes as though they were her only chance. As the dust cleared, she heard a shout.

"Hermione!" cried Ginny.

"Ginny?" called Granger's voice.

Remus Lupin, Filius Flitwick, Hermione Granger, Cornelius Fudge and Amos Diggory stood in the massive gap in the wall.

"You lot had better get out of here," said Remus. "And quickly. Those Death Eaters might be back!"

"Vill you ve all right on your own?" inquired Viktor.

"We'll be fine, thank you, Krum," Filius said. "I suppose you're going to help them?"

"Yes," said Viktor.

The Messenger group left as quickly as possible, waving goodbye to their fellow Dumbledore supporters. Ginny led the way again and Krum (who was now the oldest) didn't seem to mind, he was staring over his shoulder, back at Hermione.

"Dobby knows a faster way, Miss," said the house-elf. "This way."

He seized Ginny's hand and pulled down a corridor to the left that no one had ever seen before. The others followed without hesitation. Down a tapestry to the left, right, and up a winding flight of stairs. Panting and hoping that they had not been seen or heard, the odd group of adolescents emerged in the Owlery through a door that none of them had ever seen before. The place was full of owls, which surprised Joanne, who'd supposed that they might have flown off. Instead, they were all huddled together in various spots, but by no means scattered.

"They're scared," said Aria softly. "Look at all of 'um, just shivering!"

"We'll have to coax them out of here," said Ginny. "Oh, there's poor little Pig."

"Pig?" wondered Aria, following Ginny over to a miniscule owl, which hopped happily onto her hand and sat comfortably in her palm. He began to rub his fluffy body against her thumb.

"Oh," said Aria, stroking him with a finger. "Poor little thing. Is he yours?"

"He's my older brother's," said Ginny. "I don't think we can send him out. He's much too small. I'll just keep him with me."

She let him crawl into her pocket, where it must have been comfortable and soothing. They must have spent an entire hour trying to persuade the owls to deliver messages to the Wizarding World. It was a good thing that magical owls could understand humans.

"It'll help get all of this dreadful stuff over with," wheedled Joanne, coaxing a large screech owl to take three identical letters to various people.

"Have we got one to Arabella Figg?" asked David.

"Just sent it off," said Joanne. "Well, I guess now . . . we go down to Hogsmeade and help in any way we can."

Feeling that their work was done, the Messenger group trooped out, leaving a considerably less occupied Owlery than the one that they'd entered.

* * *

Lifting his head from the ground, Ron swore loudly at the sight of Malfoy unconscious.

"Malfoy," he hissed. "Malfoy wake up!"

"Huh?"

Ron was surprised at how quickly he was able to revive the Malfoy son, and he hadn't even so much as touched him.

"You all right?" Ron asked tentatively.

"Yeah," said Malfoy, his one worded sentence sounding more like a sigh. He pushed himself up and held his head. "You . . . found any . . . body else?"

"Nope," said Ron, getting up to see if his enemy was really okay. "Haven't even started. I don't know where Hannah, Flint and Black are."

Malfoy stood up shakily. It seemed that his head was in pain, but he was not significantly injured. "We've got to find them," he said, sounding exactly like Amy. "And then we have to search for prisoners. In fact; we should just search for prisoners right now."

Ron nodded. It was hard to refuse Malfoy's orders. After all, he had a father that was a Death Eater; he had to know a lot about the Dark Arts and those who used them.

"Who's zere?" called a voice that both boys recognized as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Us," said Ron, hurrying over to the figure that was rising gracelessly to her feet, but the shape of her beautiful body made it obvious that it was, indeed, Professor Delacour.

"Ron?" she said in amazement. She had always called him by his first name. "And--and--you!" she cried pointing at Malfoy, her porcelain finger practically stabbing him in the chest. "How zare you even come near here? YOU--you and your--your father--"

"Professor," Malfoy shouted, trying to override her voice so that he could explain. "I'm not working with my father."

The shrieking professor paused long enough for him to take his chance to explain.

"I'm helping Dumbledore," he said. "I--"

"Dumbledore was killed," said Delacour coldly.

"I'm still helping do his work," said Malfoy. "I refused to join Voldemort and my family has disowned me. I'm now no more a true Malfoy than you."

If only I knew that he was going to say this years before now, Ron thought. All of that gloating about his family when they were really going to disown him in the end. This kind of thought would have made him happy before, but now--now he actually felt sorry for Malfoy, haunted by the idea that his father truly was evil--too evil to even love his own son.

"He's telling the truth," said Ron. "We're on a mission to help save the students and free them. A lot of other people are helping too. We're in this with Mordicus Flint, Hannah Abbott and Jason Black--all of whom have proven their loyalty to our side," he added quickly.

"Very well," said Delacour. "I suppose you are looking for other students?"

"Yes," said Ron.

"Get on wiz zit zhen!"

They took her last few words as a command. The first person they found was unconscious, but unmistakably Seamus Finnigan. He also seemed to be wounded. Both of his legs stuck out at funny angles. Dean was getting unsteadily to his feet a few yards away. Ron left Draco to look after Finnigan and went to see if his other fellow Gryffindor was all right.

"His legs are broken," said Dean, trying to make his way over to his friend. "Don't you touch him Malfoy!"

"Dean!" said Ron hurriedly, holding back the boy's arms as he made a furious swipe at Malfoy, missing his face by inches. Malfoy stood his ground and kept a hand planted gently (but all the while firm) over Seamus' heart, to be sure that it was still beating. "Dean!" said Ron again. "Malfoy's with us! He refused his father's offer. He's not really a part of their family any more."

Dean stopped struggling for a few moments and stared at Malfoy as though he'd never seen him before.

"They disowned you?" he guessed in amazement. Seeing Malfoy nod, he said, "Why'd you refuse him? I heard that it was what you wanted!"

He crouched down next to his friend, but he was looking intently into Malfoy's eyes.

"I never wanted that kind of thing," said Draco truthfully. "And I realized that all that my father ever truly wanted was power, rather than what's best for me--that's what parents are supposed to want, isn't it?"

"It is," said Ron. "Took you a while, didn't it?"

Draco did not reply, but looked at Dean. "Are those tents safe?"

Dean shrugged. "Pretty much. There's no Dark Magic inside them so far as I can see. Why?"

"Can you get him into one?" asked Ron, seeing what Malfoy was getting at.

"I don't know if I can carry him," said Dean, doubtfully. "Will you help?"

"I will," said Malfoy. "Are there a lot of people who are hurt here?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "That's why there aren't many Death Eaters around. Most of the people are unconscious."

"Are you hurt?" inquired Ron concernedly.

"Nah," Dean assured them. "I was just caught with Seamus."

"I see," said Draco. "Let's get going. We've got some work to do."

Ron left the two so that could help the third and set out in search of the others. People were beginning to emerge, wondering what was going on and what had happened. But most of them were thrilled that they appeared to be free. Ron didn't talk to anybody. Finally, he saw Hannah's filthy pink dressing gown and blonde hair, leaning over a boy of about thirteen. With a thrill of horror, Ron realized who it was.

"Oh God!" he choked, running over to them. Please don't let he be hurt badly! Please let him be okay! Please!

Hannah looked up, her face tear streaked. Oh no. He knelt next to her, heart hammering.

"He's not--" he stammered. "He's not--tell me he's not--"

"He's alive," wept Hannah. "But--but look at him!"

Ron could see that he wasn't doing well. The boy was bleeding all over, worse, probably was his shoulder and head. Flint groaned.

"Mordicus!" cried Hannah. "Mordicus are you there?"

"Arm . . . " he moaned. "Head . . . "

Ron tore a bit of cloth off of the bottom of his robes and wrapped around it Flint's forehead.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

They spent the next twenty minutes testing whether or not Flint's brain had been damaged or hurt in any way. It didn't seem to have been, but he was in a lot of pain. Also, one of his legs, like Seamus' two, was sticking out at an odd angle.

"We've got to get him to a tent, or some kind of shelter," Ron whispered to Hannah. "And quickly. He's loosing a lot of blood through his shoulder."

They occupied themselves for the next half-hour half-carrying Mordicus to a tent that already had a few people inside it. When they had closed the flaps behind them, Jason came bolting over to them.

"So you told loads of people the plan," commented Ron, referring to what they were supposed to do.

"Yeah," said Jason. "We found Professor Sinistra. She's knows a bit about healing and stuff, so she'd gonna help."

"That's wonderful," said Hannah, sounding as happy as it was possible to be (but, considering their situation, this was nothing short of gloomy).

"Yeah," said Jason again. "But listen," he turned to Ron. "Draco thinks we should leave soon. Everything is going well here. We're leaving a Caller in case it's needed, but the third prison is said to be the largest (so far as rumors in the cells go)."

"Mordicus is hurt," said Hannah. "We can't leave him."

Draco joined them. Jason bit his lip and looked at their leader.

"We can't stay here, either," Draco told them.

"Maybe someone should stay with him," said Jason in a small voice. "Just one of us I mean." They stared at him for a few moments, pondering what to do and the pros and cons of his suggestion. But Jason, however, took as though they'd said they didn't like his idea and added hastily, "Just a thought."

"It's a good one," said Ron, coming to the decision that it was best. "You know," he said, "he's right. We've got to get going and we can't leave Flint. Who wants to stay?"

"I'll stay," volunteered Hannah. "I also want to wait for news of my brother. I'm a bit worried about him."

"Me too," said Jason. "Well, if you see him . . . " he didn't finish his sentence, but Hannah knew what he meant anyway.

Without waiting any longer, the group (now a trio) left for the next camp, a few students staring awestruck after them. We're doing something right, Ron told himself. He bit his lip; hoping that the Heirs of Hogwarts were doing as well as they were, if not better.