Marked

"You know how to defeat him?" Harry asked. He leaned back in his chair, both eyebrows raised. He didn't have to look across the Headmistress's office to know Neville probably had the same disbelieving expression. "I assume you made a claim like that for a reason."

The Minister stared at him in silence for a long moment. Harry got the impression the man was either trying to read his mind or calm his own natural response to Harry's outburst. "I understand why you are angry with me," Dumbledore began, "but you must know this situation is no more under my control now than it was in your past. You have no one else to direct your frustration towards, but know I am doing to my best to help both of you. Everything I have done until now has been to that end."

"Like having Malfoy pass information to his aunt," Harry said.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Mr. Malfoy has been a bigger help to us than either of you will ever know, at great personal risk to himself. There are Aurors protecting the school not only for both your sakes, but for his as well. When I asked him to pass on an altered version of the Key, I knew the results would put him in a great deal of danger."

"From his own aunt?" Neville asked.

"She will hurt anyone who gets in her way," Dumbledore said. "If she feels he has betrayed her, their familial bonds will matter very little. She may have already reached that point." He paused and stroked his long white beard slowly. "I have no doubt that the only way for this to end is a direct confrontation. When I took action a few weeks ago, it was my understanding that the two of you would have to kill Voldemort's current physical incarnation together before addressing less immediate concerns," he said, gesturing to Harry's scar, exposed by the fall of his hair.

"The spell Draco Malfoy gave to his aunt was a part of the original Key with two major differences. Two ingredients were missing from the original formulation--the blood of one of Voldemort's victims being one of them," Dumbledore said, pointing at the two students. "Also, a small part of one of the reanimation spells was altered. Enough that the overall spell would work, but the affect is that Voldemort's natural magical ability--that inherent in him no matter how much damage his soul has suffered--would be suppressed for an undetermined period of time. As I see it, this is the only way the two of you will be able to defeat him. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is going to do all they can to prevent other Death Eaters in interfering what will ultimately be a battle to the death between the three of you, but it is your training and instincts that will be put to the test."

Neither boy spoke for several long moments. It wasn't as if either of them had expected to hear anything different, but some part of Harry had been hoping the Minister had come up with a plan that would leave them both with a little more hope. What they had now was the barest chance that they would be able to overpower Voldemort while he was weak and the hope that the protection from their prospective parents would be able to do something for them when they had to face Voldemort one last time.

"It's going to be soon, isn't it?" Neville asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I have discussed this with Professor McGonagall. She agrees with the idea in principle, though we are both wary of putting you in this position. The affects of his botched reanimation will not last forever. The longer you wait to confront him, the stronger he becomes, never mind whatever magic Bellatrix Lestrange will attempt to help him. She will likely never figure out the correct series of spells to fully restore his power, but she can help him gain temporary strength until he is able to fight. I also think it is likely she will fight at his side, whether or not he is at his normal strength."

"Because she doesn't know anything about the prophecy," Neville said. "She has no idea he transferred some of his powers to both of us and he has to fight me alone."

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "If either of them knew the full prophecy, Death Eaters might have attempted to come after you in recent weeks. Bellatrix was already suspicious of the level of protection Harry had when she was still teaching at Hogwarts," the Minister said. "Even if she were to learn of the prophecy, she will not suspect he is a part of it."

"Not unless she puts it together with what happened in her class," Harry supplied.

"That is a concern," Dumbledore stated. "Still, the likelihood that she would guess at something so unusual as your time travel is quite small. If there is more to be heard on that issue, I am sure she will address it with her nephew." He paused to look at both Harry and Neville. "Have either of you spoken with Mr. Malfoy recently?"

Both boys indicated they hadn't.

"Bellatrix wishes to set some sort of trap for you." Dumbledore said, looking at Neville. "He has been hesitant in cooperating so far, but she has threatened him numerous times to ensure his cooperation. I suggest we take her wishes into consideration."

"You want to let her get to Neville?" Harry asked. He glanced at the other boy. Neville's mouth had dropped open in his surprise.

"No," Dumbledore said. "I want to let her think she has the advantage. I can supply you with a portkey so you may get out of whatever situation she draws you into. Also, we will be able to use it to trace her location."

"And what if that doesn't work?" Harry asked. "I was lured out of the school before, remember? It's not as if Neville will be walking in to tea. She'll be there to disarm him as soon he gets wherever she is."

"There are flaws in the idea," Dumbledore said. "My wish is to have Aurors follow soon after. If my information is correct, Bellatrix will not harm Neville in the meantime. From what little Voldemort knows of the prophecy, he may want to...commit any acts himself. He may not be able to do anything to that affect for a while."

"You're okay with them holding me for however long it takes him to get strong enough or how long it takes you to trace the portkey?" Neville asked. His voice had come out high and thin. He tugged at the collar of his shirt nervously. "That woman enjoys torturing people. She doesn't have to kill me to hurt me."

"Wouldn't it be easier for an Auror to go in with Polyjuice or something?" Harry asked. "That's got to be a better alternative than Neville being held hostage." He paused. "Unless you want him there."

Dumbledore continued, ignoring Harry's question. "I am not planning for a hostage situation at all. My wish is for someone to draw the Aurors to her hiding place and--"

"What about everyone else?" Harry interrupted. "They've been training with us for weeks and you want him to go in alone? Voldemort won't be alone. Even if Hit Wizards do manage to arrest most of them."

"I do not want to send a group of teenagers into--"
"But you'd send Neville by himself?" Harry paused, letting the question hang in the air. When he glanced at Neville, the other boy had folded his arms across his chest and was rocking back and forth slowly, his eyes lowered. "You've said you're not setting us up to die, but every time I talk to you, I feel something else. I'm not imagining things. It's like you're taking away all our chances. So it's only us and whatever Voldemort has waiting for us," he said quietly.

At that moment, the older wizard did something neither boy expected. He let out a soft sob. His eyes filled with tears before they coursed down both weathered cheeks. "I feel I am sending you to die," Dumbledore admitted in a choked voice. He cleared his throat and glanced back and forth between them. "Not purposely," he said, holding up a hand. "I know I have not always given you the best impression, but I have never sought to hurt you. The prophecy is clear. No matter what I or anyone else at the Ministry does to help, even with friends as your support, it must come down to the three of you."

He glanced back and forth at both boys as tears continued to fall. "As much as I may wish to protect you from this eventuality, it does neither of you any good to pretend you are going to have every helping hand to aid you. We will do our best to keep others from interfering, but it really is down to you," he said. "In the face of this evil, you are the hope of the Wizarding world and there is nothing any of us can do to ease that burden." The Minister reached up quickly and dried his tears before performing a silent, wandless spell to calm himself.

Harry and Neville exchanged a look. It felt strange to watch Dumbledore act this way. As much as he usually guarded his feelings, Dumbledore was doing little to shield Harry and Neville from how he felt now. Especially odd considering that Harry had long since thought the older wizard considered the two of them a means to an end in getting rid of Voldemort for good. As much as he wanted to believe that wasn't the case, this unusual display of emotion was the first indication Harry had that the Minister was thinking of them as people rather than placeholders in a prophecy.

"I've said this to you before Harry, but it needs to be said again. I know why, in your past, I never discussed any of this with you." Dumbledore glanced at Neville and his mouth pulled down into a deep frown. "It is quite possibly one of the worst things you can tell anyone about their fate, and yet the duty fell to me. I have to prepare you, not just with the truth of what you must do, but with the knowledge that you will most likely not live to see the other side of it. Then there is the added burden of the many lives at stake." He sighed and his shoulders sagged. "Children should never have to bear this kind of weight and there are a great many adults who would have given up long before now," he said.

"I do not believe fate decides what is best for us. I believe, as I always have, that our circumstances can bring out the best of our strengths and lead us to triumph, if that is what we are meant to achieve." Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I envy you," he said, opening his eyes and looking at Harry. "Your strength and your bravery. You have seen so many things in the past few years that even I would have had difficulty facing time after time. You confronted the man who killed your parents, fought his followers, and watched a friend die knowing he meant it to be you next. Voldemort could never understand how you managed to survive each time and why you continued to fight even when he had you cornered and nearly helpless.

"There is something to be said for your capacity to love, Harry." He turned to Neville. "I do not mean to disregard you in that respect, but Harry has faced the worst of things these past several years." His gaze went back to the other boy. "You know what it's like to risk everything to save a friend, to fight when all seems lost and you know what a truly special kind of magic it was that allowed your mother to sacrifice herself to save you. You carry that protection with you, always. It may not seem like it now, but you also possess the strength and compassion it took to get through everything in your past, even when you are not forced by your circumstances to show it every day. I have no doubt that Neville shares these qualities. It is a part of who you both are. It gives you the tenacity to fight back. And it is those unique qualities that could lead the two of you to win," Dumbledore said.

"I cannot pretend to know everything that may happen. For all my plans and the armies of people I could send to protect you, the best I can do is be honest and tell you to use your every strength, up here," he said, pointing to his head, "and here," he said, putting his hand over his heart. "Voldemort may have intelligence and the devotion of a deluded few, but you have something he will never comprehend. In your few years at Hogwarts, you inspired your friends to risk their lives to protect you, more than once, not out of fear of you as Voldemort might have done, but out of love for you. To be willing to sacrifice oneself is the greatest gift anyone can give," Dumbledore said. "You have never asked it of anyone and yet the world unknowingly asks it of both of you," he remarked, glancing at Neville again.

"There are no easy plans. There is no course that will soften the duty you have been given or ease the hopelessness you may feel. There is only the choice you have to make. Oh, yes," Dumbledore said, "you do have a choice. Neither of you has to fight. But if you do, you must do it willingly, and with all intention of finishing what he has started, whatever that may entail. I have tried to be strong for you and, in doing so, made you believe you could not trust me. Trust this," he said. "You can win. If I could take on this burden for you, I would," Dumbledore added, his voice cracking. "But I do not have what the two of you have. Your strength and the love that has touched your lives is more than many in this world have ever seen and it is the best weapon you have in this fight."

He stopped speaking again and cleared his throat, looking away briefly. "I feel the best way to handle this is to face it straight on. Face your fear and use your strengths to triumph together, if that is what will happen. I have done my best to put the odds in your favor," Dumbledore said. "But if you feel there is another way, another choice, it is your lives. I will not do anything to push you, and no one will think lesser of you if you wish to wait or do not want to fight at all. Ultimately, it is your choice."

Did they really have a choice after that? Harry looked over at Neville and knew he was wondering the same thing. As much as it may have seemed the older wizard was leading them to their deaths, all this time he had truly believed he was doing what was best for them. It was a difficult position to argue with; this was the weakest Voldemort would ever be. If the two of them were going to fight--as if choice was something they could take advantage of--there would be no better time. It would take years and a countless number of lives before they were both strong enough to fight Voldemort at his strongest. And even then, the odds would be further stacked against them.

"We have to fight," Neville said, just as Harry thought it. The boys looked at each other and an understanding passed between them. Together until the end. Voldemort's or theirs. There was not a choice to be made.

A few minutes later they were outside of the Headmistress's office, headed towards their common room. After promising to come up with a plan to deal with Bellatrix's coming trap, the Minister had left the two boys alone. Now, not only were they sure of what they had to do, Harry had finally given over to the instincts that had guided him his first few years at Hogwarts and begun to trust Dumbledore again. It was a good, familiar feeling; he'd felt some of the tension leave him as he came to the decision.

Harry still wasn't entirely happy with the way the Minister had handled everything so far, but the prophecy and all that happened because of it were not his doing. There was no sense in continuing to be angry with Dumbledore for circumstances he had no part in creating. That didn't make it any easier for Harry to accept that he and Neville were most likely going to die. Within the next couple of months, if Bellatrix grew impatient. It was more than enough time to take stock of why he wanted to live, but Harry knew it would never be enough time to say goodbye.

They were around the corner from the entrance to their common room when Neville stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to Harry.

"We're really going to do this, aren't we?" Neville's voice shook as he spoke. He'd only caught Harry's eyes briefly before looking around the empty hall; he finally settled for looking down at his feet.

"We do have a choice," Harry said, echoing Dumbledore's words. "It may not seem like--"

"Of course it doesn't seem like much of a choice," Neville said. He looked up again. "You felt it in that office. Dumbledore didn't call it martyrdom in so many words, but he didn't have to. The world is depending on us, and not just the Wizarding world. He's going to be unbeatable and live forever if we do nothing. Did Dumbledore really expect us to say no when he was going on about love and how we're everyone's hope?"

Harry was silent. He'd lost a lot of his will to fight Dumbledore in that office, but he didn't know how to tell Neville that he'd accepted their fate as he had accepted his death sentence from Snape weeks before. That situation had worked out in a way no one could have predicted and, if Hermione was right, there was no way any of them could tell how this was going to work out either.

"Harry, tell me you believe we can win this," Neville said, breaking into his thoughts.

"I believe...it's not impossible," he replied after another long silence. "I'm not going to lie. It doesn't look good. I've fought Voldemort when he was at full strength and I was barely able to hold him off. Dumbledore was right," Harry said. He took a breath after saying the words. The admission felt a little strange coming from him, but it was true. "This is probably the weakest he's going to be, assuming Malfoy's been telling the truth about his condition. The truth is, it doesn't matter when we fight him."

"Of course it matters," Neville said. "We can keep training. We can be ready for anything he'll throw at us."
"Do you really think we'll ever feel completely ready for something like this?" Harry asked. Neville threw up his hands and backed away a step. Harry stepped forward and touched his friend's arm. He had a fairly good idea of what the other boy was thinking, but Harry knew his view was realistic. "Come on, think about it.," he said. "There is no way to prepare for this, other than what we've already done. I don't know about you, but I think we've trained enough. Tonks and Professor Lupin have taught us everything they can."

"We're still working on learning Occlumency," Neville pointed out. "Didn't you say he's good at Legilimency?"

"He's good at everything," Harry said. "But right now he's weak. Look, I know you're scared. I can try to fight him by myself, but--"
"I'm not going to let you do this alone," Neville said. "I can't. You know that by now."

"I know. And everyone else feels the same way," Harry said. "It all comes down to us working together. We might be able to defeat Voldemort, while he's still weak."

"Assuming Malfoy's been telling the truth. That's what it really comes down to," Neville said. "I have to ask, do you really trust him? You've told him as much, but I know you still haven't told him about the prophecy. Are you willing to risk our lives on Malfoy assuring us You-Know-Who is practically bedridden?"

"Dumbledore is sure of him, for whatever that's worth," Harry said. "And if Voldemort had been seen around when Muggles were being attacked, the Minister wouldn't be able to keep that out of the papers. What other explanation is there for him not being seen in public?"

"I don't know," Neville said. "I just can't shake the feeling that Malfoy is hiding a lot more than he's telling. He won't even tell us how his aunt is communicating with him, if she really is, and we're just supposed to take his word that she--" Neville stopped speaking and his eyes narrowed at a point over Harry's shoulder. "Speaking of the devil's helper."

Harry turned and watched as Draco made his way down the hall towards them. Before he got close, Harry noticed the drastic changes that had taken place in the days since they'd last seen each other. Draco walked with his shoulders sagged; his entire body appeared smaller and almost folded in on itself, as if he'd been deflated. When he got closer, Harry noticed the dark circles under both eyes and that his skin had taken on an even more remarkably pale pallor.

Draco looked back and forth between both boys as he stopped before them in the hall. "Did he tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Neville asked.

"About the threats to both of you," Draco said. "I wrote to Dumbledore about it last night, but I never heard back from him. I wasn't sure if he'd warned you."
"He told us you might be involved in however your aunt's plan is supposed to be carried out," Harry said.

Draco frowned. "Of course he told you that part. But he didn't tell you anything else, did he? She's out of her fucking mind. I told her this wouldn't work, but she wants me to put both of you under the Imperius Curse and then use the Floo Network somewhere in Hogsmeade to take you to my house."

"Is that where she's hiding?" Harry asked.

"No." Draco sighed. His gaze drifted around the hall before returning to Harry. "If I knew where she was, I'd go after her myself."

"I doubt that," Neville put in. "Isn't she supposed to be threatening you? I don't think even you're bold enough to confront her about it directly."

"You know nothing about what I'd do," Draco said, his voice suddenly loud. He turned to Neville. "Aunt Bella told me she took my mother. I haven't heard from her in over a week. For all I know, she could already be dead." He coughed and looked away from them again briefly. He took a shaky step backward. "I told you I didn't want to be involved in this at all and now I feel like I don't have a choice."

"You had a choice before," Harry said. "You didn't have to give Dumbledore any information."

"He was going to put me in Azkaban over something else I didn't have a choice about." Draco took a step back and raised an arm to motion between the other two boys. "You have no idea what it's like. You've got everyone on your side, willing to defend anything you do and helping you. The Minister has been threatening to keep me and my father locked up for life if I don't help you and that crazy bitch is going to kill the one person who's on my side if I don't help her. If she hasn't already." He looked at Neville. "And don't give me some sob story about how the Dark Lord is going to try to kill you again. He couldn't do it before and he's a mess now. I helped do that. And you still don't give a damn what happens to me or my family, do you?"

Neville blushed faintly at the accusation and began to take a step forward. "Look, I--"

"We're both sorry for what's going on with your family," Harry said. He squeezed Neville's arm and pulled him back. "We honestly had no idea all of this was happening. You're right, Dumbledore never told us. But you have to admit, your father--"
"Don't talk to me about him," Draco said, his eyes narrowed. "You don't remember losing your own and you've had your mother all your life. You have no idea what this is like."

"I understand better than you think," Harry said quietly.

"No, you don't," Draco responded. "I'm not going to make any excuses to you for what my father did and I don't particularly care what you think of me at this point. I just came to tell you I'm done with this. I did everything Dumbledore asked of me and I doubt he even bothered trying to protect my mother."

"But he's protected you," Harry said.

Draco laughed shortly. "Has he?" He crossed his arms again. "There's protections around this school for the two of you to work on whatever plan he's come up with. He could care less what happens to me and I've stopped pretending he's going to help me and my father."

"So, you're done. Does that mean you're not going to help us at all?" Neville asked. When Draco turned to look at him, he met the other boy's stare for a few seconds before looking at Harry. "I know we haven't been as nice to you as we could have been and I'm--I'm sorry about that. I do actually care how many people are getting hurt over this. Even people I'm not particularly friendly with."

"I'll take that for about as much as it's worth," Draco responded. "Before you ask, I'm not going to start working against you because the Minister turned out to be an asshole. I don't want to see that woman win, but I'm not going to be totally involved with either side. If my aunt tells me exactly what she's going to do, I can try warning you directly. That's the most I'm willing to do. In spite of what you think, I'm not trying to see you killed."

That last statement had come as a surprise and neither boy knew how to react. When Draco turned to walk away, Harry called out to him. "Look, if we hear anything about your mum--" He looked at Neville. "We can't guarantee that we'll be able to help, but--"
"Fine, Potter," Draco said. He raised one hand in a half-hearted wave and walked to the nearest set of stairs.

After they had been alone for a minute, Neville said, "I was being an ass, wasn't I? Of all people, I should know what it's like to lose a parent."

"We both do," Harry said as they continued walking towards their common room. "Don't worry about Malfoy. Dumbledore's the one who screwed him over, but he doesn't have a reason to take it out on us. We have bigger problems to worry about."

"Like how we're going to tell Lavender and Hermione about the so-called plan," Neville said. "I don't know about you, but I'm willing to let Lavender think we've got this all figured out. She's scared enough as it is."

"I could try that," Harry said, "but I think Hermione would know I'm lying before I could even finish saying it. She's always has me pretty well figured out, even when she doesn't say anything."

"I'm starting to get that same feeling from Lavender," Neville remarked. "I'm not sure it matters what I say to her at this point, she's expecting the worse."

"You have to decide," Harry said as they neared the end of the hall. "Do you want to give her false hope about what might happen or let her deal with how she feels now, when you can talk to her?"

"So you do think we're going to die." He stopped outside of the Fat Lady's portrait and eyed Harry. "You've practically said as much."

"I think when it comes to the people closest to us, there's no point in pretending otherwise." Harry shrugged. "Odds are in our favor, but I can't look Hermione in the eye and tell her everything's going to be fine. She has a hard enough time dealing without me lying to her. What you tell Lavender is up to you, but I can't do it. I'm preparing for my death and Hermione has to be as well." When Neville said nothing in response, Harry gave the password and the portrait swung open to admit them into the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione finished the tea and placed the cup on the table next to her before pulling her legs up onto the sofa. She offered Ron a small smile. "Thanks for that," she said motioning to the cup. "It helped more than I thought it would."
He shrugged. "Sometimes something simple works." He paused. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

At his mention of her behavior in the library, her eyes began welling with tears again. She sniffed and brushed at her eyes with her sleeve quickly. "I'm quite sure I don't want to discuss it, Ronald." Hermione glanced around the common room. No one was watching them, a change from when he'd brought her into the room, hysterically crying for the second time that day. Ron's suggestion of tea had helped, but it hadn't hurt that Hermione had taken a small vial of Calming Draught. Not that her almost daily doses of the potion were doing much to help her keep her reserve overall, but occasionally numbing her emotions was a better alternative than breaking down every time she let herself think of something other than school work.

"Hermione, you're not doing well," Ron said.

"You're very observant today," Hermione remarked. "Are you paying the same amount of attention to Parvati as you are to me?"

Ron blushed and looked around the room. "I haven't seen her since dinner yesterday, actually."

"And you don't think your maybe girlfriend will get a bit upset at you being around me so much?" Hermione asked.

"I think she understands that we're all having a hard time," Ron said. "At least, I hope she understands that. She sees how Lavender is."

"Why don't you go check up on her?" Hermione asked. "I think she and Lavender mentioned something about visiting Professor Trelawney."

"I told Harry I'd take care of you," Ron said. "I could tell he was really worried about you."

"He's worried?" Hermione sighed and lowered her voice. "If either of us has cause to be worried, it's me." She wrapped her arms around her legs and let her head drop to rest on her knees.

"But that doesn't mean you have to feel alone, right?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't seem to remember you finding it this easy to talk to Parvati about feelings."

Ron shrugged. "You taught me how, remember? Besides, it's easier to talk to you because I don't see you the same way I see her."

"Well, thanks Ron," Hermione said with a small, humorless smile. "As always, I'm flattered by how you think of me."

"You know what I mean. But this isn't about me. If the worse happens, you'll need to talk to somebody about it." When Hermione said nothing, Ron reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't have a lot of experience dealing with this kind of thing, but I'm pretty sure pretending nothing is wrong isn't helping. You should be able to talk to someone about it before and after the fight just...just in case." Ron blushed as she frowned at him.

"In case of what?" Hermione sat up straight. "Harry is not going to die," she said. Her voice was far more certain than her thoughts, but Hermione wouldn't tell Ron that. She could tell from his pitying expression that he believed her words as much as she believed Draco would turn out to be on their side. Thankfully, he was tactful enough to not say as much.

Before he could take the conversation further, a voice from behind them said, "Are you feeling better, Hermione?"

Hearing Harry's voice, Ron jumped and pulled his hand away from Hermione's shoulder.

She turned. "You look upset," she said, ignoring Harry's question. "What's wrong? What did the Minister say?" She stood as Harry came around the end of the sofa and grasped for his hand.

"Nothing we didn't expect," Harry said. "We already knew we'd have to do this on our own."
"What about the Horcrux situation?"

Harry frowned. "He said we'd worry about it when the time comes. If the fight goes the way we want it to." Hermione's eyes dropped and Harry squeezed her hand. "We need to talk about this later, but are you okay out here for now? Neville and I are going to look at my memory from the graveyard and--"

"I'm coming with you," Hermione said automatically.

"I don't think you need to see this, Hermione," Harry said. "It'll only bother you."

"The whole situation bothers me," she said, turning to walk up the stairs. "I don't think seeing something that's already happened is going to have much of an affect."

"I'm coming too," Ron said, standing to follow them.

"You don't have to," Harry said. "This is pretty scary and--"
"Harry, stop it." Hermione stopped at the foot of the stairs. "We're all involved in this, for better or for worse." She walked back to the sofa. "Stop trying to protect me from something harmless, a memory. If we watch this, maybe we can see things about the way You Know Who fights that could help you and Neville."

"Hermione, you can't pretend this is like defense practice and you're going to analyze Voldemort's technique. It's--"

"Harry, just let her come," Neville said. A hand touched his shoulder and he turned as Lavender stepped up next to him. Parvati entered the common room and came to stand behind her. "Hermione's right. There's no harm in everyone doing this with us since...they won't be able to fight with us." He looked over the gauge Lavender's reaction.
"What?" At Lavender's exclamation, several students turned towards the group. "Dumbledore can't do that," she said. "He's just going to let you go off on your own?"

"It won't matter if any of you try to help us," Harry said. "The prophecy says we have to do it ourselves." Lavender crossed her arms but said nothing as she leaned onto Neville's side. "Are Dean and Seamus in our room?"

"They're still in the library," Ron said.

"Good, then there's nothing in the way," Hermione said. Grabbing Harry's hand, she turned and led the group up the stairs to the dorm room.

An hour later, they sat around the room in silence, Harry, Hermione and Parvati on Harry's bed, Ron, Neville, and Lavender facing them from Ron's bed. It had been several minutes since they'd emerged from the Pensieve, but after watching one of their schoolmates die and the gathering and fight that followed, they were all at a loss for words.

Harry took comfort that Hermione hadn't started crying again, but he didn't know what to make of her clinging to him in silence, her expression troubled. He touched her crystal necklace and was surprised when a chill instantly swept over him as his finger made contact with the stone. Hermione looked up quickly and brushed her fingers over his, easily disabling the charm.

"Maybe it's better if we don't use it for a while," she said. Everyone looked over at Hermione as she broke the silence. "Does anyone have any suggestions for strategy?"

"I say we ignore whatever Dumbledore told you and continue to practice as a group," Lavender said. "The prophecy says that you'll have to finish him, but there's nothing that says we can't fight him and the Death Eaters together. You two can still deliver the final blow."

"You're right and we told him that," Neville said. "But that doesn't mean you'll be able to get past Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall when the time comes."

"I say we don't give them a choice," Ron said. "We've been training with you for a reason. If he's really going to let you both go through with this, our being there can't possibly hurt."

"He nearly said as much," Harry said. "But you all have to recognize that at the end, it has to be us. And Voldemort won't hesitate to kill any of you to get to Neville, you saw that with Cedric." He looked down at Hermione. "You can't stand in our way. No matter what happens. When it's time, you have to let us do this."

"As long as you promise to let us help," Hermione said. "No matter what Dumbledore says. I'm going to find a way around him. You need us and I would never forgive myself if--"

She stopped speaking and Harry squeezed her tight to his side. She didn't need to finish her statement. He knew what she meant and he saw the same sentiment reflected on the faces of their friends in the room. Dumbledore had been right. There was something in them that instilled a protective instinct in their friends, one that didn't have to be coerced or threatened. Harry only hoped it would be enough to give them an advantage when the time came.