Draco Falore

Just look at the array of betas who helped with this chapter!
I owe thanks to: Lainey (who outdone herself for the last chapter), Amichay (my inspiration for all the love scenes), Parker (who has come to trust her ability to read my mind), and Kalangitan (who put a lot of effort in making this chapter better). Thanks also to Simon and Shay for their support.

Where we left off: This fic sounds too weird when summed up: Hedwig turned out to be Tamara, an ex-spy for Voldemort having a terrible crush on Harry. Draco was caught lying to Voldemort, and was confined to his dormitories, and Hermione got a hint from Dumbledore that Draco might be fighting on their side after all.

Dedicated to every one of the wonderful betas who helped with a few or all of the chapters of this fic. Also dedicated to those of you who made writing this worthwhile with your reviews. One more: this chapter is pre-dedicated to any artist who manages to draw a picture of the last scene of the battle. I’ve tried to do it myself and failed.

Draco Falore
Chapter 8: What’s coming will come

Though I've tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for her in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As I've done from the start

Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet

Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
-- Sting, “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic”

Percy looked at his watch. He had less than an hour before he was to meet Fudge in Dumbledore’s office, at noon. The minister had asked him, or rather asked ‘Weatherby’ to be there mainly because of his notorious tendency to take over the conversation with unimportant details such as the width of cauldron bottoms. Fudge obviously wanted Percy to keep Dumbledore from asking questions about the nearing battle.

Dumbledore looked back at Percy as he led him, Bill, Carole, and Sirius to the Great Hall. ‘How hard do you want me to press when I question that buffoon, Fudge?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘Not too hard,’ Percy said. ‘I don’t want to waste any time squirming for him. We have more important things to consider now. I don’t think he’ll be suspicious. He tends to think that everyone is even more stupid than he is.’

‘It’s a fatal mistake to underestimate your enemies,’ Dumbledore said gravely, coming into a stop.

Percy nodded. The Headmaster was right, as always, and while he was willing to throw his life away in the heat of the battle, facing Fudge seemed like an unbearable task. He was simply losing his patience.

‘Only a little while longer,’ Sirius said with his usual slap on the back. ‘And then you’ll get your ultimate revenge when you take his seat in the ministry.’

Percy didn’t respond, regaining his authoritative composure. ‘We’ve already made sure that all Death Eaters will Apparate into the Great Hall,’ he said. ‘Now we need to secure all the exits and see to it that they stay there.’

‘Do we also want to deny them the ability to Disapparate back?’ Carole asked. ‘There’s the advantage of getting them all at once, but then again, if there are many Death Eaters, it might be a good idea to let them escape and face them some other time.’

Percy screwed his face in concentration and looked to Dumbledore for an answer.

‘No,’ Dumbledore said. ‘They will not try to escape unless they suffer heavy losses. They will fear Voldemort’s wrath more than they will fear us. If this should happen, we ought to lock the remaining Death Eaters in.’

‘Carole, see to it,’ Percy said. ‘Now, Bill, I’m glad we have recruited your tomb raiding skills. We’ve put at least a dozen locking charms on each of the doors. See if you can find a hole in our defences.’

Bill gazed about the hall, his forehead wrinkled in concentration under a mass of red locks. ‘The walls,’ he said. ‘What’s stopping them from blasting a new exit through any of the walls?’

Percy’s shoulders dropped, as did his jaw. He ignored Dumbledore’s contented expression and looked in Sirius’ direction.

‘I’m already on it,’ Sirius said, drawing out his wand.

‘I think I’ll add a few nasty surprises for them in case they do try to break out,’ Bill offered. ‘There are a few tricks I learned from a Pharaoh. Always wanted to give them a try.

‘You seem to be handling things nicely,’ Dumbledore told Percy as they watched the three others busy themselves about the Great Hall.

‘Somehow, I don’t think this battle is going to be easy. I don’t like it that we’re allowing Voldemort to get into the heart of our defences, and I have the feeling that we’re forgetting something important.’

‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ Dumbledore agreed, but instead of worry, his voice was filled with confidence. ‘You can grab a tiger by the tail, but then you’re in for an eventful ride. Subduing Voldemort and his followers is going to require all of our combined abilities.’

‘I just hope we are up to it. This will be considered the worst sting operation in history if we fail.’

‘Well, we can’t let that happen,’ Dumbledore laughed. ‘We have a reputation to maintain. And you, Weatherby,’ he continued after a short pause, ‘have a meeting to attend. Do not worry. Your Aurors are more than capable of the task.’ He turned to leave, and then added over his shoulder: ‘if you do remember that ‘something important,’ you know where to find me.’

***

Like a caged lion, Draco lay motionless on his bed. He could think of nothing better to do in his imprisonment time than to repeat the details of the final battle in his head. He’d already rehearsed every forthcoming second numerous times. He knew where he was supposed to be every single moment of what may turn out to be his final task.

A flutter of wings saved him from his own reflections. A school owl came into the room, bearing a letter. Draco released the parchment from the bird’s leg and shooed it away. He recognised Hermione’s touch in the neatly tied ribbon and the smell it carried before he even opened the letter.

Draco,
I am sorry for my behaviour in the infirmary yesterday. You must understand that it is hard for me to trust you again, but somehow I do. I know that you are not truly evil. Please see me in the library tomorrow night. With this war growing nearer every day, we don’t know if either of us will live to see another sunrise. We have to talk things through before it’s too late.
Love, Hermione

Draco was barely able to control the shiver that passed through him, reading her words. There was much truth in them. There was little chance that they would both survive the final battle. He sat at his desk and wrote a short message below hers:

Forget about it, Mudblood.

He rolled the parchment and called for an owl from the common room. Then, he closed his eyes and leaned back over his desk. With his eyes closed, he unrolled the parchment and wrote as straight as he could manage blindly:

Hermione,
Do you remember the comb I gave you the night I left? Of course you do. I find it hard to imagine that you would forget anything of that night. When you dress up for the final battle, please put on that comb. I beg of you. You said you trusted me. If you can trust me on just one last thing, let it be this. And don’t show this letter to anyone. You don’t know who you can trust.

He left the letter unsigned.

When the school owl came into his room, the parchment was rolled up again, looking just as it had before Draco added the new lines to it. He tied it to the bird’s leg and opened the window. Now there was one more detail to add into his already complicated battle plans.

***

Nagini lifted her head as the girl on the bed stirred. ‘Is she awake?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Harry rasped back in the snake’s language.

‘Then why are you sitting here?’ Nagini asked.

‘I want to be here when she wakes up,’ Harry said. Nagini kept looking at him, unsatisfied. ‘It’s a terrible thing to wake up alone in the infirmary,’ he explained. ‘This is why Hermione waited for me here until she was sure I could get up on my own, and this is why I’m waiting for Tamara. She should have someone with her when she wakes up again.’

‘To help her, because she won’t be able to get up?’

‘Something like that.’

Nagini looked pacified. She recoiled at Harry’s feet, summing up what she’d learned. ‘Your friend waited here because you couldn’t get up,’ she said.

‘Of course I could,’ Harry said in a hurt voice.

Nagini raised her head to his eye level. She looked at him from all sides, moving at the same incredible speed that Harry’s chess pawns ran when he wanted to play against Ron. ‘Then why did she wait?’ she asked eventually.

Harry stared at the giant snake, wondering if this was a good way to pass the time until Tamara woke up, or if he would be too frustrated by that time. ‘Hermione didn’t know if I would need her,’ he said. He saw her open her mouth, and decided to prevent her next question. ‘And I don’t know if Tamara will need me when she wakes up, so I’m waiting.’

‘Why don’t you just ask her?’

Harry sighed. Apparently, giving honest and patient answers was not the way to stop the flow of trivial questions. He could explain to her that when people were asleep, they couldn’t be expected to give very good answers, but he was growing weary of the conversation. ‘Because I don’t want to,’ he said eventually, willing her to give the matter a rest.

‘You’ve been waiting all these hours to help her, and now you don’t even want to ask her if she wants anything?’ Nagini said. She twisted her head to one side as if trying to see if Harry was a different person from another angle.

Harry shook his head in desperation. Apparently, no method worked to stop her. ‘I’m tired,’ he said, hoping she would get the hint, yet realising how unlikely that was.

‘That’s wonderful!’ Nagini said. She seemed like she just had an idea that would provide her with all the ducks she could eat without having to move. ‘You can go to sleep,’ she told Harry, ‘and the girl will watch over you. When you feel better, you can switch again.’

It took Harry a few seconds to recover. ‘How can she watch over me at her state?’ he asked slowly.

‘Same way she’s watching you now,’ Nagini said, only you’ll be asleep. ‘The way she’s staring without taking her eyes off you, I think she’ll be an excellent watcher.’

At times like this Harry wished he wasn’t a Parselmouth. Knowing what Nagini was saying gave him the false impression that he could understand what she meant. By now, he should have known better. He slowly turned his gaze towards the girl on the bed. He was so consumed in trying to end the conversation with Nagini that he hadn’t even realised that Tamara had sat up and was looking at him with her mouth wide open and her eyes glinting.

In the darkness of the night before, he could only get a brief impression of how achingly beautiful she was. Her soft hair had the colour of copper threads in the bright sun; a few tiny freckles decorated the bridge of her nose, only there to show how flawless was the rest of her fair skin. Even dishevelled from sleep she was a sight Harry could not tear his eyes from. He moved a hand through his own tousled hair and blushed, thanking his luck that she could not understand the conversation he’d just had with Nagini. He didn’t even want to imagine how stupid he must have sounded.

Tamara hid her face in a cushion, blushing as well. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled into the white softness. ‘I didn’t mean to stare. It just seemed like Nagini had something important to say, and I didn’t want to interrupt.’

It was Harry’s turn to gape. ‘You know Nagini by name?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Tamara said quietly. ‘Sometimes she was there when I was supposed to file in my spy reports.’

Nagini lifted her head, sensing that the conversation was about her. ‘Are you going to sleep, then?’ she asked.

‘What did she say?’ Tamara queried.

‘She said that she remembers you as well,’ Harry answered. ‘She says you were the most beautiful spy there, and that you shouldn’t have risked your life on my account.’

‘Did she really say all that?’ Tamara asked with a smile. ‘I nearly became Nagini’s meal on more than one occasion.’

‘So did I,’ Harry said, laughing, ‘but she’s on a strict ducks diet now, so you don’t have to worry.’

‘Well, she never actually tried to eat me,’ Tamara said, joining the laugh, ‘so I hold no grudge.’ She reached out a hand and very carefully patted the top of Nagini’s head.

Nagini recoiled instantly, and Tamara pulled her hand back in alarm. ‘What was that?’ the giant snake hissed at Harry.

‘Don’t be angry,’ Harry said quickly. ‘She was just patting you. It’s a show of affection.’

‘I’m not angry,’ Nagini said. ‘I’m just… I though the way that the half-giant wrestled with me was a show of affection. Is it different because this human is a female?’

‘Sort of. Many people who are not Hagrid pat their animals.’

If Nagini seemed only surprised before, now she really seemed upset. Her split tongue slid in and out of her mouth more quickly than usual, and the lines of her nostrils turned into ominous ovals. ‘Why didn’t you ever pat me before?’ she demanded.

Harry was stuck. ‘I… I didn’t think you would like it,’ he stammered.

‘Well, I do,’ she said obstinately. With one sharp movement forward she reached Tamara and rested her head in the girl’s lap.

Tamara gasped and would have probably jumped to the ceiling if it hadn’t been for the very heavy load on her legs. ‘What does she want?’ she asked, short of breath.

‘She… er… seems to have taken a liking to you,’ Harry said. ‘She wants you to pat her some more. I can take her away if you’d like.’

‘That’s all right,’ Tamara said, scratching the top of Nagini’s head as if she were a cat. Harry could swear that her low hiss was an attempt to imitate Crookshanks. ‘It’s just that she seemed like she was about to swallow me after all.’

‘Not you,’ Harry muttered. ‘Me. She’s angry that in all the time she’s been here, I never tried to pet her. She says she enjoys it, but I think she just likes the attention.’ He screwed his face at the snake who had slithered half her body up the bed in the meantime. She created one loop around Tamara and rested her head upside down on the knees of the girl who was scratching and spoiling her.

‘This is better than shedding my skin,’ Nagini whispered.

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to get into the infirmary. She shrieked and rushed to Tamara’s bed. ‘Harry!’ she bellowed. ‘How did you allow that animal on the bed? Out! Out right now!’

Harry didn’t have to tell Nagini anything. ‘I know that tone,’ the snake muttered, more upset than Harry had ever seen her. She slid down from the bed, her tail slowly releasing the loop around Tamara.

‘Tell her that I’ll see her later, in Hagrid’s cabin,’ Tamara said. ‘That is, if you’ll be willing to take me there.’

‘Of course I will!’ Harry said too eagerly. He was glad for the opportunity to turn his head and talk to Nagini. ‘She was thrilled about the idea,’ he informed Tamara once the snake and his blush were gone.

‘Very good,’ said Madam Pomfrey. ‘Go join her. Tamara will meet you there when I finish examining her.’

‘What?’ Harry said. ‘Are you kicking me out? You always try to keep me here. This time I want to stay.’

‘This time I have a female patient I’m going to examine, and I don’t need any love-struck teenage boys bothering me. Off you go.’

‘Love-struck?’ Harry mumbled. ‘I’m not…’ he looked into Tamara’s anticipating blue eyes and trailed off. ‘I’ll be in Hagrid’s cabin,’ he choked and dashed out.

***

Wormtail took a deep breath and walked into the room. He thought he was prepared for the darkness inside. He had been his master’s closest servant for four years now, and still the air was knocked out of his lungs every time he walked into his chamber. This time was no different.

Only two wizards were in the room. Voldemort and Cornelius Fudge. The two rarely met in person, and when they did, they made sure no one else was around to witness the Minister of Magic taking orders from his master.

‘Tell me, Wormtail,’ Voldemort hissed, turning to him, ‘do you bring me any good news?’

‘Very good news, Master. The Aurors do not know about the coming attack. They do not regroup or call in the reserves. Hogwarts will be caught unprepared.’

‘Fool!’ Voldemort cried. ‘You bring me terrible news and you don’t even understand their nature. There is no doubt that the Aurors are preparing for the attack. What you say is that you don’t know what they’re planning.’

The Dark Lord turned his anger to the other occupant of the room. ‘Cornelius! Don’t the Aurors report to you? Are you hiding something from me, too cowardly to tell me how incompetent you are as a minister?’

‘No, Master!’ Fudge said, cowering away as if to prove Voldemort’s suspicions. ‘What Pettigrew says is true. Carole Estes came to me. She asked for more Aurors to be stationed at Hogwarts when the anti-apparation wards are taken off. I turned down her request.’

‘And you said nothing about it,’ Voldemort stated.

‘It seemed trivial, Master.’ Fudge retreated another step under the pressure of Voldemort’s red glare. ‘There will only be two Aurors there, like every other year. I told her that only the parents of the students were invited to apparate into the school, and they would not want to harm their own children. She accepted my logic.’

‘Logic!’ Voldemort sneered. ‘You were probably careless enough to make her suspicious, and now she’s plotting behind your back.’ Fudge frowned, offended. ‘Who are the two Aurors that are going to play decoy?’

‘I… don’t know, My Lord.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ There was no escape from Voldemort’s rage, this time. The cruciatus curse hit Fudge with the last syllable said. The man who was supposedly the strongest figure in the wizarding world started screaming even before he fell to the floor with the pain. A few seconds later, when the curse was lifted from him, Fudge seemed withered as if he’d been tortured for hours.

‘I’ll ask you again,’ Voldemort said, looking at the wobbling wizard with visible disdain, ‘which two Aurors are going to be stationary targets for my raiding forces?’

‘Any two that you choose, Master. I will see to it.’

‘Good answer,’ Voldemort praised mockingly. ‘The first should be Carole Estes. She’s the one coordinating them. Without her, my path into Hogwarts will be even easier. The other should be Black’s lover, Arabella Figg. Killing her would give him something to think about other than his beloved godson.’

‘Harry Potter,’ Wormtail mumbled. ‘Maybe he will be too worried about Black?’

Voldemort’s sneer was now turned at Wormtail. ‘That bigheaded Gryffindor will think about revenge too quickly. I have prepared a trap for him. Something not even he - something especially he cannot escape.’ He glared at his two Death Eaters, who were edging their way out of the room. ‘And to think that my inspiration to this came from a Muggle story, Peter and the Wolf.’ His lips curled in a mock smile. ‘Those years in the Muggle orphanage were not a waste after all.’

***

Harry jumped up from the sofa to the sound of footsteps outside the cabin. He’d been stuffed full of Hagrid’s rock cakes, which hadn’t improved one bit from the first time he’d tried them, but they were his only chance for some sort of supper. Any prospect of escape was welcome, even if it weren’t Tamara. Still, his heart danced a little jig when he opened the door and saw her.

‘Harry, yer blushing!’ Hagrid bellowed. ‘Haven’t seen ye like this in ages. And all because of an owl. Told yeh that magical animals are very important.’

‘I have to thank you for buying me,’ Tamara said, smiling timidly at Hagrid. ‘If it weren’t for you, they would have probably killed me.’

‘Yer very welcome, lassie,’ Hagrid said, slapping her over the shoulder. She seemed to make a tremendous effort not to fall back and embarrass the half-giant.

While Tamara managed to stay on her feet, Hagrid nearly fell over as Nagini hastened from behind him, leaving Fang biting at the empty air. She wrapped around Tamara once and rested her enormous head on the girl’s chest.

‘What is she doing?’ Hagrid cried, rushing to save Tamara. ‘She’s never behaved like this before.’

‘It’s all right,’ Tamara assured him, waving off his outreached hands.

‘If I’m not mistaken, Harry said, ‘Nagini is giving her a hug.’

‘A hug?’ Hagrid said, sounding fascinated by the idea.

‘Oh, Nagini told me she loves wrestling with you,’ Harry said. ‘But it seems like she likes the way Tamara pets her as well.’ He reached out and scratched Nagini on the top of her head, but the giant snake didn’t seem to like the distraction. She hissed at him; nothing tangible, just a general demonstration of irritation, much like the way Ron grunted when Hermione suggested he should do his homework.

‘I bet her old master didn’t pet her like this,’ Hagrid laughed.

The mention of Voldemort was like cold water down Harry’s spine. ‘The attack,’ he mumbled. ‘Tamara,’ he said in a louder, urgent voice. ‘Do you know how to protect yourself in case… in case you need to?’

‘Yes… sort of,’ Tamara said. Both her hands were moving on Nagini’s scales, but her attention was now given to Harry. ‘I’ve studied all the books I carried for you, and I witnessed a few lessons, but I’ve never actually tried to do any magic. Not focused magic, that is.’

‘They always say owls are smart,’ Hagrid injected, making Tamara blush.

‘But you’ve never used a wand,’ Harry insisted. Tamara shook her head. ‘Then you must learn how to use one before…’ He stopped, wondering if it would be wise to tell her he knew about the oncoming attack. He didn’t know what she’d do with the information. He liked her – a lot – but that wasn’t reason enough to trust her. Then again, he’d told Draco about it when he knew Draco was a Death Eater. ‘Before you actually need to use one,’ he finished.

Harry touched Nagini again to get her attention, ignoring her threatening spits. ‘I’m sorry, Nagini. The rest of the petting will have to wait for another time. I need to take Tamara now.’

‘But why?’ Nagini asked. Harry could swear she was whining, although he couldn’t imagine the giant snake doing anything baby-like.

‘Because she’s in great danger, and I need to teach her a few things that will help her stay alive.’

Nagini opened her mouth and closed it again, as if she was puffing. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘She can’t pet me if she’s dead.’ She uncoiled herself from around Tamara and returned to Fang, who was immediately willing to forgive her for having abandoned him without a warning.

Harry led Tamara out to a clear patch between Hagrid’s cabin and the Forbidden Forest. ‘We still have a few hours of light in this season,’ he said, taking out his wand and wondering which spell to teach her first.

‘It’s a bit deserted here,’ Tamara commented, seeming worried.

‘It is,’ Harry said. ‘This is why I like this place so much. No one will bother us here, and you don’t have to be embarrassed if you don’t get the spells right at first. Don’t worry, I won’t jump you,’ he added as she still seemed concerned.

Tamara failed to hold back her smile. ‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll try to jump you?’

The idea sounded rather pleasant to Harry, but he refrained from saying so. ‘You don’t stand a chance while I’m the one with the wand.’ With those words, he handed it to her.

‘I see what you mean,’ Tamara said. She placed the tip of the wand on Harry’s neck and slowly slid it down towards his chest.

Harry felt a pleasant shudder pass through him, and by the time he recovered, his wand, in her hand, was drawing tiny loops on his stomach. ‘You need to learn how to use a wand,’ he said, moving her hand away.

Tamara smiled mischievously. ‘You don’t like the way I use it?’

‘I do,’ Harry said, his voice sounding hoarse even to his ears. ‘But this way will not save you from dark spells.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ Tamara said, and now she sounded bitter. Without another argument, she aimed the wand at a stack of leaves Harry pointed out for her.

‘Try lifting one of these leaves. The words of the spell are –’

‘Folium Leviosa!’ Tamara said before Harry could complete the sentence.

For a second, it seemed like nothing happened. Harry was about to tell her that the spell didn’t work for him either the first few times, but then he saw a single leaf on the top of the stack stir a bit. Tamara’s eyes were narrowed in concentration, and shortly after, the leaf lifted into the air. The result would have pleased both Harry and Tamara if it weren’t for the other leaves that followed. Before long, the entire stack was swirling in the air, and with it every fallen leaf within a ten-foot radius.

Tamara kept pointing the wand forward, trying to get the storm under control. Gently, Harry put his hand over hers and lowered it, slowly breaking the spell.

‘That was… impressive,’ he said. ‘It seems like you won’t have a problem getting the spells to work. I think we’d better work on accuracy, though, before we continue to more dangerous spells.’

Tamara looked solemnly about. They were surrounded by fallen leaves, coloured gold in the light of the setting sun. ‘I’m sorry about the mess. I hope Hagrid won’t be too upset.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Harry said, taking his wand from her. With a flick of his wrist, the leaves were heaped into a nice stack, ready to be the subject of Tamara’s experiments once more.

Harry handed the wand to Tamara, but she refused to take it. ‘I want to see you lift just one,’ she said teasingly.

A demonstration didn’t sound like such a bad idea to Harry. He pointed the wand to the leaves and made one of them twirl in the air.

‘Hmmm…’ Tamara said. ‘I think it’s something in the way you wave the wand. Let me feel this. She took his right hand in hers, tracing his movements with accuracy. Then, she moved to put herself parallel to him, her entire body adjusting to fit neatly into the notch between Harry’s torso and his arm.

Harry had a hard time concentrating on the spell when she was standing so close to him. Her scent was of wild flowers and wide fields of grass; she smelled of sweetness and freedom. Harry closed his eyes, and in his mind could see the high mountains Hedwig used to soar above, Tamara’s clear blue eyes reflecting in the lakes below them.

‘I don’t see how this is different from what I did,’ Tamara said, jolting Harry out of his pleasant dream. He opened his eyes to see not only the entire stack floating in the air, but with it many of the green leaves that were torn off nearby branches.

‘Oh!’ Harry cried and dropped the wand, not careful to lift the spell slowly, like he did with Tamara’s. A whirlwind of green and brown caught the two of them and tossed them to the rich earth of Hagrid’s deserted pumpkin patch. Tamara fell on top of Harry, and the weight of her body, pressing to his, was added to her intoxicating smell and the feel of the soft summer grass.

‘Getting lessons from you is fun,’ Tamara said quietly, her lips brushing Harry’s.

‘I’m going to have to collect all these leaves again, and I don’t know a single spell that can cure the trees I just plucked bald.’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ Tamara said. She propped herself on one elbow, but made no sign of getting up. She stared into Harry’s emerald eyes, her entire facade intent, and he could feel the heat of her body through their robes. Suddenly, the clothes separating them were too much to bear. Even if he wanted to, he could not object when she began peeling the black cloth off his shoulders. And nothing in the world could make him want to object.

It wasn’t until the sun was only a fading memory in the west that Harry remembered why they were there and was glad for his choice of a deserted location. He looked at Tamara, who was beginning to doze off wearing a smile as wide as his, and brushed a defiant lock of red hair off her face. Then, he summoned his wand to him, and careful not to disturb her, cleared the area of fallen leaves. He stashed the green ones at the bottom of the stack in the hope that Hagrid wouldn’t notice them. Another spell revived the grass they had stomped, and a last one wrapped their robes loosely about their bodies.

A last inspection of their surroundings left Harry satisfied that they’d left the place in reasonable condition. He nearly put a levitation spell on Tamara to take her back to the castle, but stopped himself. He felt stronger and more alive than he’d felt in years. He wanted to use his new energy to give her something in return. A levitation spell just didn’t seem appropriate.

In a manner very foreign to the wizarding world, Harry lifted Tamara off the ground, one arm supporting her back, and the other under her knees. He was glad to discover that she wasn’t too heavy for him. In her sleep, Tamara slipped both hands around his neck, resting her head on his chest.

Not too many people walked around Hogwarts halls at that time of night, and Harry managed to avoid those who did. After a moment’s consideration, he brought Tamara up to the Gryffindor tower and placed her in his own bed.

The curtains were pulled around all beds in the dormitory, and everyone else seemed to be asleep except for Ron. Soft feminine giggles sounded from his four-poster, followed by masculine grunts. Harry undressed and slid into the covers beside Tamara. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him with a content gurgle.

‘Good night, Ron. Good night Saitaina,’ Harry said, pulling the curtains around his bed as well.

The giggles in Ron’s bed became a bit louder for a moment, and then both of them wished him good night, Saitaina’s voice embarrassed, and Ron’s annoyed. Harry ignored them both and placed his hand on Tamara’s hip, kissing her forehead lightly. In return, she put one leg over his, fitting herself into the curves of his body. Her eyes opened lazily, and she moved even closer to him. A rush of blazing fire passed through Harry, and he realized that although he was probably going to get very little sleep that night, he wasn’t even a little bit sorry for it.

***

Breakfast at the Gryffindor table was an odd experience even before the mail arrived. Both of Hermione’s best friends were preoccupied with girls who had been, or still were, Death Eaters. They were so busy feeding their girls that they forgot to put anything into their own mouths.

Hermione scanned the Great Hall. One day before they all went home, everyone seemed to be coupled with someone else. Not only the Gryffindors, but couples filled the other tables as well. They seemed so happy that Hermione felt like just cursing them all to oblivion.

Draco was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t made it to any meal since she’d sent him her letter, and so far he hadn’t sent a reply either. Maybe that answer he gave when he was under Veritaserum hadn’t meant as much as she thought it had. Maybe things had changed in the few days that passed. But how could it happen just now, when he had had the same feelings for her for nearly two years? Maybe he was simply held back by someone. She didn’t know if that thought soothed her or worried her even more.

With the arrival of mail, the oddness turned into a real turmoil. A school owl dropped Draco’s letter into Hermione’s plate, splashing bits of egg over her robes. School owls never really had good manners.

Hermione recognised her own parchment immediately and realised that whatever answer he’d given her had to be short. A thousand possible single-line responses ran through her mind in the second it took her to unroll the letter. She searched for Draco again in the hall and when she couldn’t find him, turned to read his words.

It wasn’t the content of Draco’s message that bothered her. It was his handwriting. The letters were round and organised in the first, vicious line, and then they turned into a barely readable mush. Hermione quickly rolled up the letter and got up.

‘Where are you going?’ Harry asked. ‘You didn’t eat a thing.’

‘I’m going to change my robes. I’ve got egg all over me.’

In an expert movement, Harry drew out his wand. ‘You don’t have to go back to your dormitories for it. I can clean you up in a second.’

‘No!’ Hermione cried, drawing a few curious gazes. ‘Don’t, please,’ she said in a more natural tone. I’d rather change. It won’t take me long, and I’m not hungry anyway.’

Harry gave her a quizzical look, but he seemed more interested in Tamara than in starting an argument he couldn’t possibly win. Hermione left the Great Hall without drawing any more attention, breaking into a run only when the doors closed behind her.

As her feet raced forward, so did her brain. By the time she reached her dormitory, she had already figured out not only that Draco had written the letter with his eyes closed, but also why. Draco was carrying the Dark Mark, and for some reason, Dumbledore’s disabling procedure failed. Draco’s mark was still transmitting images to the Dark Lord, and he was well aware of it.

Hermione wondered if Dumbledore knew about Draco’s active connection with Voldemort. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her. It could explain much more than just Draco’s odd note.

Still, there was the content of the message to consider. She read it again, wondering about his choice of words. It was not of Draco’s custom to beg; certainly not for some sentimental ornament like the last gift he had ever given her.

There had to be more to it.

Hermione dropped to her knees in front of her trunk. She took out several neatly folded dress robes and placed them on the bed, leaving enough room for the large stack of books that followed. When the trunk was nearly empty, Hermione sat back and looked at the only two remaining boxes. One was large, the remains of a red ribbon still stuck to its lid. The other was much smaller; it was an empty personal pack of cereal that Hermione had taken from the kitchen to keep in it something that to her was both precious and foul; the last relic from a cherished love, and a reminder of deadly betrayal.

With shaking hands Hermione retrieved the bigger box first. She opened it carefully and lifted the glass ring that connected all the silver threads. As the crystal mobile was beginning to give its sweet sound, she remembered the words she had charmed into the music, and dropped the delicate gift back into the box. Her heart gave a jolt before she realised that the non-breaking charm she had put on the glass still worked.

Hermione wasn’t about to let herself wallow in the past. She resolutely replaced the lid on the box and set it back in her trunk, then, as if her emotions were not in a terrible turmoil, she picked up the cereal box and spilled its content onto her palm.

The small comb shone innocently in Hermione’s hand, pretending to be just an ordinary ornament. But Hermione’s mind was set on proving that it wasn’t. She cursed herself for being too terrified of the memories to try this before.

Checking a device to see if it was charmed could take months if you didn’t know what spell to look for. In this case, however, Hermione knew exactly what she wanted to find. Draco had used the Avada Kedavra curse the night he had left. Spells that could protect her from that curse were scarce.

Hermione’s second attempt was already successful. A preliminary test for the Snow White charm raised a charged cloud of dust from the comb. Hermione was eager to find out what exactly triggered the spell and how it worked, but she had a more pressing matter.

She remembered how angry Draco had been when he discovered how she had been woken from what she now realised was a deep charmed sleep. She knew exactly what he had felt, because she could feel her own anger bubbling inside her head, threatening to blow steam out of her ears. There certainly was something she needed to sort out before she could concentrate on the spell.

Luckily for Ron, there weren’t many people in the Common Room when Hermione found him there. ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said, her cheeks red with fury.

‘Sure,’ Ron said, too preoccupied with cradling Saitaina to notice Hermione’s state.

‘I think she means alone,’ Saitaina said, stretching out of his lap. She took Ron’s hand off her neck and turned him to face Hermione. ‘It seems rather urgent.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, feeling her rage leave her for long enough to appreciate the girl’s gesture. ‘Ron, out!’

Now that Ron had had a glimpse of how serious Hermione was, he did not dare defy her. He stepped out of the portrait hall and waited for her to point the direction to him, but she did not bother. Instead she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the closest deserted classroom. Even Ron’s legs were not long enough to follow her quick stride comfortably.

‘Are you all right?’ Ron asked the minute the door was closed behind them. ‘You look upset. Is it Harry? Something happened to him?’

‘No. It’s not Harry. Would have been much more appropriate if it were, but it isn’t. Tell me, last year, when I was in the hospital after Draco disappeared, how did I suddenly come to after lying unconscious for several weeks?’

Ron took a step back, bumped into a desk and used it to support himself. His head was bowed low and his hands shaking. ‘How did you find out?’ he asked.

Hermione didn’t provide an answer. ‘And all this time I thought it was Harry’s bad luck,’ she said. ‘That’s what I told Draco as well. No wonder he was so outraged. I would watch out for him if I were you. I’m quite sure that he thinks that you stole a kiss that was rightfully his.’

‘Malfoy… he’s…’ Ron stammered. ‘You were just so beautiful, and he was dead… I didn’t mean to steal his girlfriend… anyway, you went with Harry after that. Nothing happened between us.’

‘No, nothing happened,’ Hermione said, her voice quiet as the air in the eye of a storm. ‘You had to have put feeling into that kiss, otherwise it wouldn’t have worked. I’m willing to forgive you for kissing me without permission.’

Ron almost sighed in relief, but the graveness of her face made the breath stick in his throat.

‘I’m never going to forgive you for not telling me about it, though,’ Hermione continued. ‘For a year and a half you let me believe that Draco was a murderer, while all this time you knew that in fact he saved my life.’ The anger no longer had a hold on Hermione’s emotions. She sagged into the nearest chair, holding her face in her hands. ‘Why?’ she asked, her voice broken.

‘Because I thought he was dead,’ Ron said, getting up to pat her shoulder. Hermione tried to push him away, but was no longer able to put up much of a fight. ‘I thought that you would be better off thinking that the man that you’d lost was evil, and you’re better off without him. You could go on with your life; be with Harry; not mourn over Malfoy all this time.’

Hermione’s sobs grew louder, and Ron rubbed his brows with his hand, trying to justify something he knew was terribly wrong. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said eventually. ‘I didn’t know that you would mourn over him anyway. I should have told you the truth and given you the choice.’ He paused for a minute and then said something that was physically painful for him to say: ‘it’s not too late.’

Hermione smiled bitterly, thinking of Draco’s behaviour over the past few days, his messy handwriting, and the brief unmasked message at the top of his letter. ‘He’s in up to his neck,’ she said. ‘And I wasn’t by his side to offer support when he needed me.’

‘Hermione,’ Ron said softly, ‘he put you under enchanted sleep and disappeared. Doesn’t that tell you anything?’

‘It tells me that I should have trusted him more.’

‘It should tell you that you’d have only gotten in his way. He couldn’t have possibly been able to protect you in a pack of Death Eaters. He needed you to stay here where you were safe, so he could worry about whatever he was doing there. And I don’t know about trusting him. It’s true that he didn’t try to kill you, but maybe he’s just making an exception in your case. Maybe he really is a Death Eater.’

Hermione wanted to shout at him; to be angry again, but she couldn’t find the point to it. ‘I’ve made the mistake of not trusting him once,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not going to repeat the same mistake.’

***

Harry stood hesitating before Hermione’s door. She had been buried in her bed under a pile of books since before missing lunch. He didn’t want to get in the way of whatever she was researching, but he had to ask for her help. He sighed, placed the little basket he brought with him on the floor, and knocked carefully.

Parvati opened the door, clad in a half-open silk robe and nothing but. ‘Ooh, Harry!’ she cried, trying to appear as if she was in a hurry to get her robe buttoned up, but lingering long enough for Harry to lose his patience. He tried to push his way past her, but she moved so that he would have to touch her intimately if he went through.

‘Is Hermione here?’ Harry asked in a tone purposely rude.

‘Hermione!’ Parvati called behind her back, not moving an inch. ‘Your boyfriend… Er… ex-boyfriend is here for you.’ She turned to smile sweetly at Harry, batting her heavily painted eyelashes. ‘I take it that you’re on the look again.’

‘Not really,’ Harry said, trying to catch Hermione’s attention over her head.

‘You don’t mean that you prefer an owl over me?’ Parvati pouted, her attempt to look cute making her seem like a spoiled brat.

This got Harry’s attention. He levelled his gaze on her, his green eyes cold as stones. Then, he put both hands on her waist. Parvati smiled victoriously as Harry lifted her lightly off the floor, but the smile froze on her lips when he replaced her out of his way. Going inside, Harry couldn’t make any sense of the many quick words she muttered behind his back.

Somehow, through all the havoc, Hermione managed to maintain enough concentration to be startled when Harry tapped on her shoulder. Knowing her all too well, he was ready to catch the books she tossed into the air, saving them from tearing and saving himself the time it would have taken Hermione to fix them. Emergency or not, for her there was no crisis worse than a torn book.

‘Sorry about that,’ Hermione said, examining the three tomes Harry held. ‘I’m trying to find out how to trigger a spell without actually using the spell words. Every time I think I’m on to something, there is a reference to another book.’

‘Why would you want to use a spell and not say the words?’ Harry asked. He could think of a few uses for such a trick, but he was sure Hermione’s reason would be much more inspired.

Hermione looked from him to Parvati and back. The black-haired girl glared at the two of them. ‘I’ll tell you later. You want to take a walk by the lake? I could use the break.’

‘You could also use the food,’ Harry said, handing her the small basket Dobby had filled up for her. ‘A stroll around the lake sounds perfect.’

Hermione took the basket without much enthusiasm, but the smells of freshly baked potatoes and roast beef that rose from it roused her hunger, and she began munching on the chips as they walked.

The sun was only beginning to lean towards the lake, its rays casting a thin glow over the trimmed vegetation that was spread about the school grounds. Thin sprays of water indicated that the Giant Squid was busy exercising deep in the lake.

Harry and Hermione found a clear patch of grass and laid down the basket. ‘Thanks for the food,’ Hermione said. ‘That was very thoughtful of you.’

‘I only picked it on the way. I needed to ask you something.’

‘That’s all right,’ Hermione said, her mouth full. ‘As long as you leave me some of that cauldron cake.’ She stopped chewing when she saw Harry’s grave expression. ‘What is it?’

‘There’s going to be a massive raid of Death Eaters on Hogwarts tomorrow,’ Harry began. ‘And it’s more than likely that I’ll have to duel with Voldemort.’

‘I know, Harry.’ She put a sticky hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m worried about it, too. He’s a formidable opponent, and it’s all right if you’re scared.’

Harry screwed his face, less offended than he wished to be. ‘It’s not that. I’m afraid that he’ll be able to control me through this dark mark I seem to still have. He was able to make me throw Cho off her broom last year. What if he makes me drop my wand in the most crucial moment?’

Hermione bit her lip in consideration. ‘It’s not my secret to tell,’ she said hoarsely, ‘but you deserve to know. You don’t have the dark mark, Harry.’

‘But the link with Draco. You saw it!’

‘Yes, I did, and it wasn’t the dark mark that caused you to link.’

‘What then?’

Hermione looked at him, her inner struggle visible on her face. ‘You have another brand, don’t you? You carry the mark of another wizard.’

‘Dumbledore?’ Harry said, his eyes wide. ‘You mean to tell me that Draco has Dumbledore’s mark?’

‘Actually, I didn’t mean to tell you that, but yes, he does.’

‘Did he tell you that?’ Harry said sceptically.

‘He couldn’t,’ Hermione said, shaking her head. ‘Voldemort is watching his every move. This is why he didn’t provide us with reasonable proof that he was on our side. This is why he was so afraid of the Veritaserum Potion. This is why Dumbledore trusts him. I suspect that Dumbledore can see Voldemort through him whenever the dark mark is active. This makes Draco the best spy for our side; maybe even more than that. But he has to act his part every second of the day. He can’t even give us a hint about what he’s really up to, or it may cost him his life.’

By the time Hermione finished her explanation, she was shaking so badly that her last words were barely intelligible. Harry took her in his arms, squashing the leftover food between them. ‘I can’t believe what he’s given up to help us,’ she murmured into his chest.

‘It’s all going to be over tomorrow,’ Harry said, sliding his hand on her hair. ‘Either way, the war will be over tomorrow. The good news is that if the dark side wins, Draco can keep his pretence. Who knows, maybe you can become his private Mudblood maid.’

‘Don’t say that. You have to win.’

‘You mean we.’

‘No, Harry. I mean you. We’ll all be fighting, but you know that eventually, it’ll come down to you and Voldemort, and no one will be able to help you face him. You know what you must do.’ Hermione’s voice was full of sadness, as if she knew that she was asking the impossible.

‘That’s all right,’ Harry said with a flourish bow. ‘You can put your fate in my able hands.’

‘This isn’t funny, Harry. You did save my life before.’

‘What?’ Harry said, laughing. ‘You still keep a score for that baby Troll in the first year?’

‘What baby Troll? I was talking about last year.’

Harry frowned, waving his finger at her reproachingly. ‘What do you mean ‘what troll’? The one that tried to kill you in the girls’ bathroom. Ron and I saved your life. Don’t you remember?’ I couldn’t get the troll-bogey off my wand for months!’

‘Oh, that troll. Well, that was a long time ago…’ Hermione giggled at Harry’s horrified expression, but then became serious again. ‘You know, if that troll had half a brain to keep a vendetta, it would have come back hunting for us, just like Voldemort does. And just like him, it would have hurt anyone who was in his way. I hate to admit it, but there’s only one way to stop Voldemort, and that’s killing him.’

‘I wish I didn’t have to do this,’ Harry said, unable to maintain his humorous facade.

‘It’s a heavy burden, taking someone’s life on purpose, but it’s either that or committing suicide, taking thousands of others with you. No other spell seems to contain him.’

‘I’ll become a murderer. No better than he is.’

‘You will never be as evil,’ Hermione said passionately. ‘You won’t be killing him because you enjoy it, or because you don’t like his who his parents were. That’s what he does, and that’s what you’ll spare us. You’re nothing like him.’

Harry nodded. He was unconvinced, but the very conversation made him uncomfortable. He’d just have to deal with his reservation if and when it became relevant.

***

Harry walked towards the Great Hall, his mouth open in a big yawn. He had gotten little sleep that night. It wasn’t what Hermione had said that bothered him. It was the fact that he knew she was right.

His eyes half-closed, Harry nearly bumped into the closed Great Hall doors. He took a step back and read the note that was attached to it:

‘The Great Hall will remain closed all day in preparations for the End of the Year feast tonight. You are all welcome to join us at 8 PM. All the meals today will be served on picnic tables spread around the Quidditch court.
With regards,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress’

Harry turned to tread slowly away, but a firm hand peeked out of a crack between the doors and caught his robes. ‘You picked the wrong day to become a walking zombie,’ Sirius said, pulling him in. ‘Didn’t get enough sleep last night?’

‘Hardly got any sleep,’ Harry said, yawning again. His mouth remained open as he got a glimpse of the activity in the hall.

At least a hundred Aurors were busy setting up traps and containment areas. All the house tables were pushed aside, and a small group of people worked on transfiguring them into barricades. Another group made modifications to the enchanted ceiling, and a few others embedded unclear objects into the walls. The entire place glowed with laid-out magic.

Sirius shook his head. ‘You go to the infirmary and get yourself a Dreamless Sleep Potion. You have to rest before tonight.’

‘I’m not knocking myself out cold today,’ Harry said. ‘I’m still recovering from your last great idea to get me rested.’

‘In that case, go to the infirmary and get yourself a Strengthening Potion. Take it exactly one hour before the battle should begin. That’ll keep you alert for long enough.’

‘Aren’t the Death Eaters going to notice all this magic hanging in the air?’ Harry asked, ignoring Sirius’ suggestions.

‘All the weapons and hexes are going to be concealed by tonight,’ Sirius said with a smile. ‘They’re going to be triggered only if they’re hit by a dark curse.’

‘Incredible,’ Harry said. ‘Hermione was looking for information about triggering spells. She’d be interested in what you’re doing here.’

‘She’s the one who came up with the idea,’ Sirius said, indicating her in the crowd. As if to prove his point, Hermione waved to Harry and began making her way towards them. ‘This would make a nice addition to Bill’s Egyptian traps.’

‘Thanks,’ Hermione said, reaching them. ‘Sirius, I think we should come up with better ways of protecting the oblivious parents who will be Apparating in. Trusting them to immediately figure out what’s going on and take our side isn’t fair. Not all of them are fighters.’

Carole entered the Hall in time to answer Hermione’s question. ‘We have a team in charge of ushering the civilians out of the way,’ she said. She looked uncomfortably at Sirius, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t pick out the right words to say.

‘I take it there is bad news from the ministry,’ Sirius said, screwing his mouth.

‘We’ll have to replace Arabella in the sorting team,’ Carole said.

‘And why is that?’ Sirius asked, his voice betraying his nervousness.

‘Fudge ordered me to use her as a sentinel at the entrance to the castle. He specified her by name.’

‘The son of a bitch!’ Sirius fumed. ‘We should have thrown him out of his office years ago. He knows she’d put up a hell of a fight, so he wants to get her killed before the attack even begins. Who else did he order to put there?’

Carole’s answer was a single dry word: ‘Me.’

‘Eh… Don’t worry,’ Sirius said. He looked at her uneasily, obviously in remorse for his outburst. ‘We’ll set up a covert team to back you up. I’ll be there myself, and Mundungus and Remus; all the old gang. The Death Eaters who come that way will never know what hit them. You two are going to be just fine.’

‘Right,’ Carole said, keeping her tone even.

‘Hermione, Harry,’ Sirius said, ‘if you’ll excuse us, I have a few things to take care of.’

‘You think they stand a chance?’ Harry asked as Sirius and Carole moved to inspect the busy teams.

Hermione looked down, avoiding his eyes. ‘It’s going to be a battle in an open area. They are going to be standing in the light while the enemy will charge from the darkness with an unknown number of soldiers. They won’t be able to see the attackers until they are right on top of them. Harry,’ she said softly, raising her gaze from the floor and staring into his eyes with sadness as if the battle had already been decided. ‘All it takes is one Avada Kedavra curse.’

‘Sirius might get killed!’ Harry said with batted breath.

Now confusion was added to Hermione’s mournful expression. ‘We may all die tonight,’ she said. ‘This is the risk we’re knowingly taking when we get into such a battle. You didn’t think we’d get our victory without a price. ’ She shook her head. ‘And that’s if we win. If not…’ she trailed off.

‘So far I managed not to think about it,’ Harry said quietly. ‘I knew there was a chance that I won’t survive, but I didn’t stop to think that just my life may not be enough.’ He took a step back and leaned against the wall. ‘And I thought Malfoy was self-centred.’ A miserable snort escaped Harry’s throat. ‘He may be killed tonight as well.’ Hermione paled, and Harry realised what he’d just said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be all right,’ he added hurriedly, putting his hands on her shoulders.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Everyone I love will be here tonight. It’s one thing to fear for those who chose to take a part in this fight, but it’s quite another to constantly think about those who will come in here ignorant of the oncoming raid.’

‘This could have easily been the case for all of us,’ Harry said. ‘I have no idea how Percy got the information about the coming attack, but I’m sure it didn’t come cheap.’

‘Sometimes I think it’s worse, knowing about it,’ Hermione said. She raised her gaze to the enchanted ceiling and watched the dark marks that the Aurors were planting there. ‘It gives us a chance to prepare our counter-attack, but you have no idea how frustrating it is, knowing that my parents are going to walk blindly into all this without even being able to protect themselves when I could have warned them not to come.’

‘No, I have no idea what it’s like.’

‘Oh, Harry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.’

‘It’s all right,’ Harry said. ‘I wasn’t exactly sensitive before, and I’m glad you’re able to get this off your chest.’

Bill approached them as Harry released Hermione from his hug, and Harry realised that he’d been waiting for them to be finished for some time now.

‘Hermione,’ Bill said, ‘the first traps are fully immersed. I’d like you to take another look at them.’ Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand one last time and strode towards the nearest team.

Bill watched her back for a moment, and then turned to Harry. ‘Are you ready for tonight?’ he asked. Harry wore his most resolute mask and nodded. ‘You should be careful,’ Bill continued. ‘You’re one powerful wizard, which gives you a great advantage, but also makes you a desirable target. And – if you see Voldemort –’ He paused, making sure Harry was listening carefully. ‘Don’t try to take him out on your own. Wait until we’re all there with you.’

Harry nodded silently again despite his acute feeling that he would not have much of a choice when it came to the inevitable duel.

***

Ginny knew exactly what was going on the minute she saw the sign on the doors of the Great Hall. One couldn’t grow up as the ninth member of an all-Aurors family and not have a clue about their activities.

Ginny also figured out that Lee would be in there, but the doors were locked and she didn’t think it would be wise to break through with magic when there were so many agitated Aurors inside.

So she waited for him to come looking for her.

It was late afternoon when Lee finally knocked on Ginny’s door, and she was busy shooting experimental light bolts at a rag doll she had constructed from old clothes. As the hours passed, the bolts became larger and more destructive, but Ginny suspected it wasn’t just the practice that made them grow stronger.

‘I was around,’ Lee said, peeking carefully in and frowning at the sight of the smoking cloths. ‘I thought I’d come by early to see how you were doing.’

‘Early?’ Ginny said, her face red. ‘You’ve been locked up in the Great Hall since the morning. Why didn’t you come earlier? I could have helped.’

‘We set up to meet an hour before the feast. I am early. And I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Percy insisted that none of us should leave the Great Hall, not to raise any suspicion. I just sneaked out, but anyone who knows how much I love you would have been wary if I hadn’t come early.’

Ginny felt her tension dissolving, unable to stay angry with him. As her muscles relaxed, the ring on her finger was able to influence her actions more easily, and it lifted Ginny’s hand lightly to meet Lee’s.

‘What? No spontaneous kiss, this time?’ Lee complained.

‘It’s your ring,’ Ginny laughed. ‘I think it’s a bit nervous.’

‘Oh, is it?’

‘I think it doesn’t want you to be in the fight tonight. I - It is worried that you won’t come back.’

‘Ginny,’ Lee collected her in his arms to a protective hug. ‘I’ll do what I can to stay safe, but we have to fight for our future and the future of our children.’

‘What children?’ Ginny asked. She tried to sound cheerful, failing miserably.

‘You know what? Why don’t I take you for a tour and show you all the preparations we’ve made. You’ll see that I’ll be a lot safer than it may seem.’ Ginny nodded, hoping that he was right, and Lee led her out of the room.

Excited students filled up the Entrance Hall in the hope of getting a glimpse of the preparations, expecting a grand feast. It took fifteen minutes before Ginny and Lee had a chance to sneak in unnoticed.

The Great Hall was as full as Ginny had ever seen it. Aurors stood huddled in groups on the cleared floor, examining wands and amulets. Several teams edged their way along each of the walls, and wherever their wands touched the ancient bricks, sparks of gold and purple pierced the air. Harry, Ron, and Viktor Krum stood in one corner, talking animatedly. In another corner, the school staff were gathered around Dumbledore, who seemed to be giving them last minute instructions. Ginny made her way towards them.

‘Irma, you set the Entrance Hall clock ten minutes late,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Minerva, you have the unpleasant task of convincing the children that all their watches are wrong. They should all remain in an orderly line until the first curse is shot. Then, each head of a house will lead his or her students back to the dormitories.’

‘Aren’t we going to take part in the fighting?’ cried Professor Sprout.

‘Once your students are safely in their houses, you may leave them under the supervision of the Prefects and come back here.’

‘What about the students who will ask to help us?’ Asked Hagrid ‘We’re counting on at least one, but others may want to join.’

‘If we put our faith in Potter’s hands then we’re all doomed,’ Snape muttered. The displeased grunts from the other professors indicated that they disagreed.

‘The seventh years will be officially of age when the battle begins,’ Dumbledore said gravely. ‘They are allowed to do as they choose. The others students must remain in their dormitories.’

‘What?’ Ginny shrieked. ‘I will be locked up in Gryffindor tower? My entire family is going to be here!’ She didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting, but she couldn’t help her reaction.

‘My dear Miss Weasley,’ Dumbledore said, a glint in his eyes. ‘The sacrifice you are being asked to make is no less significant than that of anyone who will be here tonight. You will have to wait away from the battle, not knowing what becomes of your loved ones. Being kept in the dark is sometimes worse than seeing them fight, because nothing can happen to them that is worse than the imagination of the one left behind to worry. However, being here to watch would mean that they would have the same worries for you. If you want your loved ones to keep their concentration on fighting back the attack, you will make this sacrifice for them.’

Ginny nodded and took a step back. ‘I’ll set my watch ten minutes late,’ she said.

A sense of doom fell on her. She knew that Dumbledore was right. She could put up a fierce fight, but she would eventually get hurt and put anyone who came to her rescue in danger. Looking around, she looked back at Harry. She could still remember herself waking up in the chamber of secrets to see him standing there, soaked in blood, over the basilisk’s body. He wouldn’t have been there then if it weren’t for her, and she didn’t want to see anyone get hurt on her behalf ever again.

Ginny suddenly felt a need to say goodbye to everyone there. She saw her parents standing next to something that looked like a pile of metal waste, talking to Alastor Moody, and she dragged Lee towards them.

‘Ginny!’ her father said. ‘What are you doing in here? The feast isn’t on for almost two hours.’

‘Father, I’m not a little girl any more. I know there’s not going to be any feast. Don’t worry,’ Ginny added hurriedly as she saw a troubled expression spread on his face. ‘I’m going to my dormitories soon, and I’ll stay there until you tell me it’s safe to come out.’

‘Thank you, Ginny,’ her father said, letting her know that she’d made the right decision. ‘Be careful not to be seen going out.’

Ginny parted with everyone else only with her eyes. As the feast grew nearer, her chances of a stealth exit became slimmer. She was glad for the chance to kiss Lee at length one last time before the battle, painfully aware that this might be their last time ever.

***

‘Did you take the Strengthening Potion like I told you?’ Sirius asked Harry, stretching his arm to help him up.

Harry had been sitting in the same niche for several hours, watching the progress of the work the Aurors were doing. All the counter-curses were completely concealed in the walls: blotches of unseen magic in between Bill’s well hidden traps. Any dark curses that would hit them, any spells that didn’t carry the Aurors’ mark, would immediately result in disabling the wizard or witch who spoke them. Harry just hoped that the little team that was in charge of the parents and student who’d wander into the hall wouldn’t leave anyone on their side without the essential mark.

‘I don’t need a Strengthening Potion,’ Harry said. ‘I’m wide-awake. Anyway, I didn’t want to leave the Great Hall, in case anyone saw me.’

‘So,’ Sirius said with a faint smile, ‘didn’t feel like seeing Madam Pomfrey again, huh? I thought you’d come up with some excuse not to go, although I must give you credit for finding a reasonably credible one. Drink this.’ He handed Harry a golden goblet filled to the brim.

Harry’s protest died under Sirius’ stern gaze. For a moment, his godfather reminded Harry of Snape. He drank the potion up, secretly thanking Sirius for caring so much.

‘How long until we lower our defences?’

‘Exactly twelve minutes. We’ll remove the anti-Apparation wards at two minutes after eight. Hopefully, in these two minutes, enough parents will think that we’ve changed our minds and Apparate into the nearest Portkey stations. They will only be able to come in four at a time that way.’

‘What if the Death Eaters think the same thing?’ Harry asked, not sure if he was excited about the possibility that the battle would be cancelled or upset that they would not put an end to the war right then and there.

‘I doubt that they had planned to barge in right on the start. They would want to make sure that all the professors and most of the parents are already here. In any case, we should both take our places now. Are you feeling better?’

Harry nodded, an embarrassed smile on his face. ‘Where do I go?’

‘Right there,’ Sirius pointed at the far side of the Hall. ‘Behind Dumbledore and Hagrid.’

‘You must be kidding,’ Harry said. ‘I won’t even take part in the fighting down there.’

‘We should be so lucky,’ Sirius muttered. ‘You’re a student,’ he said more sternly. ‘All the seventh years who choose to participate are welcome to do so, but in the second line of fire.’

‘I’m not going there,’ Harry said, crossing his arms to give his words more weight. ‘Voldemort will want me, and he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.’

‘You think too much of yourself,’ Sirius said, but his frown hinted that he thought otherwise. ‘Voldemort and his followers will try to kill anyone here whether he finds you or not. I don’t have time to argue with you. You go now where I tell you or I’m personally taking you out.’

Harry wanted to say that he didn’t believe him, but Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and began leading him towards the exit, not sparing force in his grip. Harry could see him looking nervously at Arabella and Carole, who made their way to the garden doors. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay here. You can go to your post.’

‘Thank you,’ Sirius said with a sigh of relief. He brought Harry close to the Professors and was gone.

‘Harry!’ Hagrid rambled. He held his pink umbrella like a club, both his hands wrapped in white bandages. His thick beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was pulled back from his eyes in a ponytail that reminded Harry of Bill. ‘I told Professor Dumbledore that you’d come to yer senses and stand here with us, where yer a little bit more protected.’

Harry wasn’t planning on staying there much longer, but he couldn’t break Hagrid’s heart by telling him that. ‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘What happened to your hands?’

‘Oh,’ Hagrid said. That’s nothing. ‘Didn’t want to bother Madam Pomfrey with a little bruise, her being busy with the preparations and all. I tripped on Nagini. I think that yer little snake friend was upset when I wouldn’t let her come with me. She kept ramming me legs. Lucky that girl of yers was able to calm her down. Don’t know what I would have done without her.’

Harry wanted to know more about Tamara, but at that moment a hiss passed through the Great Hall. The first invasion force had apparated in.

***

Voldemort paced in front of the green fire burning in the hearth. ‘Not regrouping!’ he yelled, whirling about to face Fudge. ‘Look at this!’ He pointed at the images in the green flame.

The Great Hall at Hogwarts was reduced to a small model in the Dark Lord’s fires. It was ablaze with curses running back and forth between the vanguard Voldemort had sent to a number of Aurors. Against a room full of experienced fighters, the handful of Death Eaters didn’t stand a chance. One by one they were taken, the projected image becoming fuzzier with each of them that fell, until it was gone all together.

‘Cornelius,’ Voldemort said, a vicious smile on his thin lips. ‘You are going to be with the next group that goes in there.’ Fudge’s face lost its colour at that statement. ‘Be sure not to kill Potter.’

‘Y- yes, Master,’ Fudge stammered. ‘I will leave him to you.’

‘And with pleasure, I presume,’ Voldemort sneered. ‘The boy scares you. He makes you regret your choice to serve me.’

‘No, Master! I am your most loyal servant. I…’

‘That will be all,’ Voldemort cut him off cruelly. ‘Go and take your place among my most powerful soldiers. I will personally lead the main attack force from the other areas of Hogwarts. Lucius!’ He turned to look at the tall blond man sanding by the door.

‘Yes, Master?’ Lucius said, not moving.

‘Is your son ready?’

‘Yes, My Lord,’ Lucius said, his voice proud. ‘I have contacted him. He is waiting for us at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.’

‘Good,’ Voldemort said. ‘Make sure to gain complete control over all of Hogwarts’ grounds, and kill as many Aurors as you can while doing so.’

‘You can trust me to do as you say, My Lord.’

‘I do trust you, Lucius, and you had better not disappoint me.’

Lucius bowed lightly, whirled about, and left the room.

Voldemort took one last look into the vacant fireplace and Disapparated.

***

Harry clutched at his scar, moaning in pain. The vision he’d received from the Dark Lord wasn’t long, but it was intense, and the pain that ensued was excruciating.

The first thought that passed through his head when the image had gone was that he must not collapse at all costs. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to feel faint. His second thought was the battle scheme. ‘Percy!’ he cried.

‘Yer all right,’ Hagrid said, and Harry noticed for the first time that the half-giant was holding him tight, breaking his fall. ‘Don’t worry about Percy now.’

Harry realised it would be nearly impossible to find Percy in the Hall. Masked wizards filled the room and were still pouring in. Everyone but Hagrid and him were busy fighting them off. It seemed that for every Death Eater the Aurors or the traps disabled, two more appeared from thin air.

‘I have to!’ Harry said, wriggling out of Hagrid’s arm. ‘I know what Voldemort is planning! We have to get ready.’

‘We are as ready as we’ll be,’ Dumbledore said, a stream of sparks emerging from his wand. He reached out a gentle arm to stop Harry from rushing away. ‘You have to trust Percy to have foreseen Voldemort’s moves and prepared for them.’

‘But he won’t be Apparating into the Great Hall!’ Harry said, radiating urgency. ‘He’s planning on taking other parts of Hogwarts first.’

‘He is already in the Great Hall,’ Dumbledore said and turned away from the panicking boy. Harry followed his gaze to see the air in the middle of the room stir. A second later, Voldemort, taller than Harry remembered him and clad in robes darker than the deadly mouth of a Dementor, appeared in the spot Dumbledore was watching.

Crimson eyes narrowed to thin slits, Voldemort looked at the battle about him. Then, he disappeared and reappeared on the exact same spot. ‘So,’ his hiss was carried over the cracks of the battle. ‘You think you can keep me here. How foolish of you. You would have been much better off keeping me away. Now I will have to see you all dead. How boring.’

Voldemort’s gaze searched the room again, finally landing on Harry, who did his best to appear fit, although his head was still spinning wildly. Harry returned his piercing stare with his chin up and his wand held tight in his hand. He assumed Voldemort meant to put terror in his heart, and he had to admit to himself that the plan wasn’t all unsuccessful. However, that was not the only thing the dark mind had conceived. Before Harry realised he was dragged into the battle, a flash of blue light left Voldemort’s wand. Harry jumped aside, but was not quick enough, and the curse slashed a deep cut in his right side.

Holding down the bleeding with his left hand, Harry sent a large fireball at Voldemort. The flame exploded on impact, causing no visible damage to the Dark Lord, but knocking out two Death Eaters who were standing on either side of him.

Harry meant to send a second fireball, but Dumbledore pushed him back. ‘Students are on the second line!’ he said harshly. ‘I have let you fight your own battles for seven years. I have been preparing you for this day from the moment your dear parents decided to bring you into this world. I am not going to let you be killed moments before you fulfil your destiny.’

Dumbledore had never said anything to Harry about destiny or preparation for it, but somehow Harry knew exactly what he was talking about. Out of the shock of revelation he allowed himself to be pushed back.

Hermione reached him from between the other students who were crammed by the doors. She put her wand to his cut and muttered a few words. ‘It still needs proper healing,’ she said, ‘but at least it’s not bleeding any more. Are you all right?’

‘You just said I’d do fine.’

‘I didn’t mean the cut. I meant this.’ Hermione touched Harry’s scar lightly.

‘I had a short vision,’ Harry said. ‘But it’s gone now. Draco is fighting outside, side by side with his father,’ he added, knowing that she would find the information interesting.

Hermione frowned at Harry’s last statement, but chose to ignore it. ‘Now that the vision is gone, does it still hurt?’

Harry turned to look aside. Voldemort was watching him again, but this time his curses were blocked by Dumbledore and any other school professor who wasn’t busy fighting Voldemort’s followers. An Auror mistakenly walked into his path in the heat of the battle, and was hurled viciously into the nearest wall.

‘Like hell,’ Harry said with a pitiful smile. He knew she was the only one he could tell this to without causing a panic.

‘Maybe you should consider getting away,’ Hermione said. On second thought, he shouldn’t have told her about it either.

Slowly, things were beginning to improve for their side. No more Death Eaters were coming into the crowded hall, and those who fell were no longer able to get up. Special teams of Aurors were finally able to take short breaks in the battle to place the disabled Death Eaters behind containment fields.

‘And leave you to have all the fun?’ Harry said. ‘No, thanks.’

‘Sometimes I think you really do enjoy all this,’ Hermione said.

‘I don’t.’

Hermione looked at him, his green eyes darkened with pain that didn’t all come from his scar and his wound. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly.

‘I enjoy it even less when others are fighting,’ Harry said. He looked at the lines of Aurors and professors that separated them from the fierce battle. The Death Eaters were taking severe hits, but they were serving those as well. The protected areas were filling up with wounded Aurors, and those were only the badly hurt ones. Most of the Aurors taking part in the battle had been at least mildly injured. Worst of all were Voldemort’s curses. He was generally satisfied with watching his servants fight, but whenever his wand was raised, at least one Auror fell and didn’t get up again. ‘Especially if they’re fighting for me.’

***

Draco didn’t have to wait for long. The minute he got the note from his father he put on his Death Eater robes and rushed to the rendezvous point. His father, escorted by an assault team of at least a hundred wizards and witches appeared there only moments later.

The long summer day was reaching its end, the sun leaning towards the lake. The Death Eater’s shadows stretched well into the Forbidden Forest. None of the usual Forest’s sounds could be heard: not the birds and unicorn hooves beating against the ground, not even the more scary noises. All was quiet except for the breathing of the war-thirsty dark army.

‘I see you are properly dressed for the occasion,’ Lucius said, giving him a brave hug. ‘I’ve brought your mask with me. You no longer need to pretend to be one of the Muggle-lovers.’

‘Thank you, Father,’ Draco said, taking the white mask with a shaky hand and putting it on. The white stone was hard on his face, cooling his burning skin. He was happy for the disguise, if only so that Hermione would not see him fighting for the dark side.

He had hoped for a chance to see her before the battle began. He could imagine her fine hair glowing under the comb he had asked her to wear. He would have activated the charm on the comb and she would have been safe from harm’s way. ‘All the Aurors are inside,’ he said. ‘There are only two witches guarding the doors.’ He swallowed and tried not to sound too eager. ‘Father, should I go in and notify our Master that you have arrived safely?’

‘No,’ Lucius said. ‘I don’t want you out of my sight. This is Hogwarts, and there are Aurors about. You are safer with me.’

‘My safety is irrelevant,’ Draco said, knowingly telling a lie. His safety was everything for the outcome of the battle. ‘Only the wishes and needs of our Master count. If he needs me to go in there, I will.’

‘Your loyalty is notable,’ Lucius said, ‘but you’re staying here. You are part of this team, and we haven’t secured the grounds yet.’

‘Yes, Father,’ Draco said, defeated. He would just have to help attain the task, and if he could save Carole’s and Arabella’s lives while doing so, all for the better.

Their hoods pulled up, the large group advanced like long shadows closing in on the two witches standing by the great oak doors. Carole and Arabella stirred uncomfortably, their eyes unable to detect the dark figures beyond the line of the trees.

Then, Lucius’ wand shot the dark mark into the air, and like one, all the Dark Lord’s soldiers charged forward.

There were more than two wands to answer their curses, lashing mercilessly at the breaking line of invaders. A third of the Death Eaters were tossed to the ground before the battle was over and Lucius discovered that only six wizards and witches had held his entire force back for nearly an hour.

‘Well done, Draco,’ Lucius said. ‘Your curses were the ones that overwhelmed the last two. What did you use?’

‘A simple stupefying curse, Father,’ Draco said, hoping that now he’d be allowed into the castle. ‘They were already weakened by their injuries. I did not see a reason to waste my strength on something more complicated.’

One of the Death Eaters approached from the back, his silver hand implying that this was Wormtail. ‘Black, Estes, Moody, Lupin, Fletcher and Figg,’ he named the unconscious Aurors one by one. ‘They have put their best people in this post. My master will be most pleased when we bring back their bodies.’

‘They’re not dead yet,’ Draco said, trying to sound cold, as if he wished they were.

‘They may prove worthy prisoners to the Dark Lord,’ Lucius said. Several ropes shot from the tip of his wand, coiling themselves around the wrists and ankles of all six.

‘Should I take them in for questioning, Father?’

Lucius looked at his son, grey eyes appearing narrow through his mask. ‘You are most eager to go in there, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Keen to get your master’s reward? Patience, Draco; patience.’ He paused, and then put a long finger under son’s chin, lifting it to gaze into his eyes. ‘Or is there another reason you want to get inside?’

Draco shifted uncomfortably, cold panic spreading in his veins. ‘You know me too well, Father,’ he said. ‘Once I felt the power that the Dark Lord can give me, I can’t wait to prove myself to him again. I will try to be patient.’

‘Good,’ Lucius said. You will come with me to secure the grounds to the west of…’ his words were cut off, a cry of pain escaping his lips. A moment later, his body, which had turned rigid, relaxed once again. He tapped with his wand on his right palm and muttered the word of a spell.

A tiny green flame appeared on Lucius’ hand, the head of the Dark Lord floating in it. ‘What is your status?’ Voldemort demanded to know.

‘We have secured the perimeter of the castle and taken Black, Estes and four others as prisoners. We were about to secure the rest of the grounds.’

‘Leave ten of my servants there for this task,’ Voldemort ordered. ‘The rest of you get to the great Hall. Don’t Apparate in. come through the doors. I want to open another front in here.’

‘Seems like you’re not going to have to be patient for much longer after all,’ Lucius said. He pointed at the ten wizards he chose to stay, and lead the rest of the force beyond the great oak doors and into the castle.

When they were all in the Entrance Hall, Lucius stopped, making all the others stand as well. ‘Behold, the great castle of Hogwarts,’ he said. ‘The last fort of the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers. Ours, at last.’ With those words, he blasted open the Great Hall doors.

***

For the hundredth time, Harry watched the doors, imagining voices beyond it. It had been an hour since he had seen the dark mark in the enchanter ceiling and Hermione had sadly informed him that it was not one of their fake marks. There was still no sign of Sirius or any of the Aurors in his team.

‘They aren’t supposed to leave their post and come here in the middle of the battle,’ Hermione said, following Harry’s nervous glance.

‘I hope duty is the only thing holding Sirius from coming here and letting us know he’s all right. At least there aren’t any Death Eaters coming in here. That must be a good sign.’

Hermione looked from Harry to the doors, horror spreading on her face. ‘Everybody, back away from the doors!’ she shouted at the gathered seventh year students. ‘Go back! There are Death Eaters coming this way!’ She reared a few steps and then turned to the doors, her wand ready in her hand.

‘You’re not putting much faith in Sirius,’ Harry said, but his wand was raised as well.

‘I do,’ Hermione said, ‘but as good as he is, one Death Eater may still be able to elude him.’

As she spoke, the doors they were watching exploded.

‘This is not one Death Eater,’ Harry said.

Hermione wanted to tell him that this didn’t necessarily meant that Sirius was dead, but she had to concentrate on countering several curses that were hurled her way. It wasn’t as if Harry was available to listen to her anyway. He was busy simultaneously fending off the attackers and pushing back those among the students who chose that moment to realise that they weren’t fighters after all.

When Professor McGonagall had given them the choice, all non-Slytherin seventh year students had decided to stay and help defend their school. Hermione suspected that a few of the Slytherins were in the room as well, but she couldn’t be sure, as she assumed they were wearing masks. She could see the Gryffindors putting their heart to the fight. Even Neville managed to stop two Death Eaters before one of his curses backfired. Most Hufflepuffs and many of the Ravenclaws were pulling their weight as well, but a few of them panicked at the sight of Death Eaters so close to them. Those were the ones Harry was trying to protect, and Hermione slowly managed to shift her position to help him. She noticed Ron doing the same.

The dark servants were not satisfied with disabling their opponents. They chose the nastiest, most painful curses to do so, using ‘Cruciatus’ more than once. Hermione found that much of her time and many of the curses she used were for saving people from losing their minds with anguish. When Harry suffered his third injury, she gave up any attempt to defend herself and just dedicated all her resources to helping him and the others. They seemed to be doing a good job deflecting the curses, because while several blazing curses exploded about her, she hadn’t suffered a serious injury yet.

‘Thanks,’ Harry said after she put a crude patch on his slashed thigh. He threw back two Death Eaters who had entered the hall and smiled at her. ‘We seem to be winning.’

‘They would have been inside ages ago if it weren’t for you,’ Ron said from his other side.

‘But they keep pushing us back as well,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll soon be exposed to the Death Eaters at the centre of the all.

‘We won’t,’ Hermione said. ‘The professors are right behind…’ she looked back, and the words stuck in her throat.

The school professors who had been protecting them so valiantly through the entire battle were now scattered all about the hall. Several of them were injured beyond holding a wand. Others were busy moving the stunned students to a safer location. Only Snape and Dumbledore guarded their backs, but Dumbledore was concentrating on one of the Death Eaters, and Hermione could swear he was blocking more curses shot at that Death Eater than ones set on them.

***

Harry followed Hermione’s stunned stare. He should have known that if something made her stop her rapid talk, than it must be terrible indeed. Through the large gap in their defences he saw Voldemort raising his wand and taking an aim.

‘Down!’ Harry shouted. He threw both his best friends to the ground and stood tall to take whatever Voldemort was throwing his way. So close to people he cared so deeply about, he wanted Voldemort to aim high. This way neither Ron not Hermione would be hurt by the ricochets.

He was wrong.

Voldemort had no intention of starting a duel. He wanted Harry trapped and out of the way. Silver threads blossomed out of the tip of his wand, surrounding Harry and his two friends on the ground. Less than a second later, the threads wove themselves into a thin cage, enclosing the three.

‘What is it?’ Ron asked, heaving himself up from the floor.

‘Something to blast open,’ Harry said, concentrating his mightiest explosive spell on it.

‘Don’t!’ Hermione yelled. ‘We’re too close to it!’

But her warning came too late. Harry had already released the spell that should have by all means created an explosion that could blast them all to bits. Fortunately, nothing happened. The silver cage had absorbed the forceful spell without as much as a dent. If anything, it seemed even more solid.

Harry tried a few more spells, each more violent then the other, but none of them worked. He glanced quickly at Voldemort, who was slowly advancing on them, a thin smile on his lips, and tried even harder, but to no avail. The silver threads only grew more dense, the cage slowly turning into a glittering fabric around them.

‘Stop! Stop!’ Hermione cried. ‘It’s your magic that’s causing it to be stronger! Don’t use any more magic, or we’ll suffocate!’

Harry looked at her in astonishment. ‘If we can’t break it with magic, what then?’

‘Let me think.’

‘Your little friend is right,’ Voldemort said. He had now reached the cage and was staring into Harry’s eyes through the translucent silver layer. ‘There is nothing you can do to get out. Not now, after pouring so much magic into strengthening my trap. I should thank you for a marvellous work.’

‘Let Ron and Hermione go,’ Harry said, ‘and I’ll come quietly. It’s me you want. They have nothing to do with it.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to be quiet,’ Voldemort sneered. ‘As a matter of fact, I would rather that you scream with pain.’ He circled the cage. ‘But it’s still early for that. As for your friends, they will make the perfect example I need. The head of your Mudblood lover will prove to the wizarding world that no Muggle and no Mudblood are safe. Not even if they sleep with the glorious Harry Potter. As for Mr Weasley here,’ Voldemort shook his head like a disappointed parent. ‘He had a chance to put his poor, child-infested family behind him, and he threw it away. He betrayed me, and for that, he will die.’

‘You will have to go through me first,’ Harry said, pushing himself in front of Ron and Hermione. He did not know where those words came from. All he waned to do was curl into a ball and cry. He couldn’t break free of the cage that held both him and his friends. The Aurors and fighting students, weakened by his loss and stunned to see him trapped like an animal were losing the battle. The Death Eaters that had been held off for so long were pouring into the hall, changing the entire balance of the war.

Voldemort’s horrid face twisted into a terrible imitation of pleasure. ‘This cage will last a very long time, thanks to you,’ he said. ‘I will just wait until you’ve collapsed with exhaustion and thirst.’ He scanned Harry from head to toe, as if assessing a precious acquisition. ‘Maybe you’ll get lucky, and your wound will overwhelm you first.’

‘Hermione,’ Harry whispered, his voice trembling. ‘Any progress with getting us out of here?’

‘I’m working on it,’ she said, nearly in tears.

‘Look!’ Ron said, tapping on Harry’s shoulder and pointing to the Hall doors.

Harry wheeled about and saw Sirius coming in, followed by the rest of his team. Their eyes met for a split second, and then Sirius charged straight at Voldemort. Harry gasped and was almost relieved when a group of Death Eaters moved to block his way.

‘I’ve got it!’ Hermione suddenly said. ‘Hold on tight to the cage.’

Harry would have liked to know why he was asked to hold on to the cage, but something told him that he should just do as she said. He saw Hermione grabbing a handful of silver threads and with her other hand pointing her wand to the ground. ‘pulsus!’ she commanded.

A great hole opened in the floor, partially under the cage, and the rest beyond it. The silver threads that surrounded them began filling into the new opening, but they were still few and fragile. Hermione quickly slid through, calling the boys to follow her. Ron and Harry exchanged looks, and then Ron pushed Harry out, rushing after him. As he was going, the fabric became too dense to go through, trapping the rim of his robes.

Ron ripped his robes free and looked closely at the torn edge. ‘Could have been our heads,’ he said. He tried to sound amused, but his pale face gave away his true feelings.

Harry did not look at Ron’s robe, or at Hermione, or even at Sirius. His entire focus was on Voldemort, who stood less than three metres away. Voldemort was staring back at him, his crimson eyes narrowed with hate.

‘Harry Potter,’ Voldemort hissed. ‘It seems that we’ll be facing each other after all.’ He looked around at his crumbling army and the still standing Aurors. ‘We’ll have to do something about the odds, thought.’ With a wave of his wand, a translucent wall appeared on the far end of the Great Hall. ‘A containment field for your friends. They should get used to being locked in a cell, don’t you think? Or would you prefer them dead?’ Voldemort’s wand cut the air again, and the nearest group of Aurors were cast beyond the wall. The first to recover tried to go through it, but was rendered unconscious by a shock of magic that emerged from the field where he’d touched it.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Sirius’ group next. The Death Eaters they were battling seemed weakened, their spells barely gaining any altitude and causing virtually no harm. They looked at their wands as if surprised by their sudden lack of ability, but before Sirius and his team were able to take advantage of the situation, they were all hurled beyond Voldemort’s force field.

Harry followed them with his eyes and then turned back to Voldemort, his jaw set and his breathing quick. There was only one way to get his godfather and all the others free. He had known that for a very long time, but now was the time to finally accept it. Even Dumbledore had called it his destiny, and Dumbledore did not tend to talk about such things. He raised his wand, and so did Voldemort.

***

Draco had prepared a selection of visually impressive yet nearly harmless curses. He was about to cast another one of those at Hermione when he felt his magical powers beginning to leave him. This was it. This was the moment he had been preparing for from the moment he had accepted Dumbledore’s proposal to work as a spy. He was beginning to worry that the Dark Lord wouldn’t tap into his magic, and then all would have been lost. Fortunately, as mighty as Voldemort was, he wanted every bit of fraud magic when he faced Harry Potter.

The power was slowly drained from him. With scientific curiosity, as if he were safely back at the manor, Draco measured it to about three quarters of his normal ability. He looked at Dumbledore, who never took his eyes from him throughout the entire battle, and nodded, taking his white mask off. The headmaster nodded back to signal that he understood.

A fraction of a second later, Draco could feel the mighty forces battling over him – in him. He was being pulled in two directions at once. It was worse than being pulled by the arms, as this magic was inside every cell of his body. The power of a thousand wizards was wired through him and was being fought over by the two most awe-striking wizards on the planet.

Tiny golden beads appeared around Draco. He wondered if those were really there, or just in his feverish imagination. The little lights were inside him as well, moving about in a swirl of gold and piercing him like hot needles. Draco’s body jerked and stretched, suspended in mid-air between the two fighting forces. In his bleary mind he wondered who was gaining the upper hand.

He remembered Dumbledore’s words from nearly two years before: ‘If it comes to this, then the final battle will not be decided by numbers or by magical abilities. It will all come down to loyalties. Your loyalties. The one who has them will be able to take all the magic the other had gathered.’ Then, the Headmaster had described the mortal danger Draco would be in, and had asked him if his mind was made up. Draco had thought of Hermione back then, and had nodded determinately. He couldn’t let her die a pointless death if there was something to be done.

Draco’s feelings for her, hanging in the centre of a mighty clash, were as strong as they were then. He knew that had he been asked to make that decision again, he would have chosen the same. Only, his Hermione was too hurt to be with him ever again. He had tried to kill her. Not even scheming a weapon against the Dark Lord was a good excuse for putting her in such peril.

Warm tears made to golden beads rolled down Draco’s cheeks as he thought about her. Tears that he wanted to cry for over a year but couldn’t let out. The great pain he was in was also a great liberator. Draco was nearly able to smile in gratitude, but the battle over him suddenly became more intense. The pulling forces were tearing his insides apart, and neither was able to overpower the other.

Draco closed his eyes, saving his power. If he was to die, then the connection would be lost and all was for nothing. He would have lost his Hermione for nothing.

A soft spell pulled him down from where he was suspended. The battle was still going on, but Draco could now let it take place while standing on firm ground, or sprawled on it, as it happened.

Arms as soft as the spell wrapped around him, and a familiar, desirable body pressed against his. Hermione’s jasmine and cinnamon scent was enough for him to recognise her, but he opened his eyes all the same.

She was smiling sadly at him, her hair filled with the golden beads that surrounded him. They were reflected in her warm eyes and on the surface of the comb she had agreed to wear. He was glad he didn’t have the chance to curse her to sleep. She might have been safer that way, but right now he felt selfish enough to just want her near.

With Hermione holding him, there was no real battle over Draco’s loyalties. There was no more anger in his heart about losing her. She was there, assuring him in whispered words that she wasn’t going anywhere. The beads of light began streaming in Voldemort’s direction like an attack force of golden fireflies.

They surrounded Voldemort, and he became livid with anger and fear. Draco felt magical power surge through him and on to Dumbledore. The sensation was both empowering and weakening at the same time, and Draco’s tormented body was no longer able to withstand the currents of magic going through it. He tried to hold on as long as he could, knowing that each second meant that Voldemort was weaker and Dumbledore stronger, but he felt himself unwillingly slipping deep into darkness.

***

For a few moments, Harry thought that his most dreaded, his most anticipated duel with Voldemort could be avoided.

The Death Eaters who still stood had stopped fighting and looked at their wands the same way the group facing Sirius’ team had done before their opponents had been taken. They seemed like their magic had failed them. Groups of Aurors were leading them, chained and dishonoured down to the dungeons. Voldemort paid no heed to them. His full concentration, his dark entirety was on Harry. But by some miracle, he did not attack.

It took Harry several seconds to realise that it was no miracle. Thin threads of gold and the song of a phoenix told him that Dumbledore had somehow been able to recreate an effect similar to the Priori Incantatem, using Draco as a conduit.

Harry had not been there when Voldemort had recovered from their duel at the end of the third task. He did not wait to see how long it took the Dark Lord to regain all his powers, and he didn’t know how long it would take him now. He hoped that there would be time enough for Percy’s teams to capture him.

His hopes were shattered when Draco fainted in Hermione’s arms.

Voldemort stood tall and powerful only a few metres away, his scarlet eyes flashing at Harry. He allowed himself only a moment’s distraction to toss Draco’s unconscious body into the air, slam it back into the ground, and then toss him and his love into the containment area.

Harry stared at Hermione, her face pale as she tried to tend to Draco. Her words kept ringing in his ears: ‘there’s only one way to stop Voldemort, and that’s killing him.’ Harry’s eyes searched for Dumbledore, but the old Headmaster was standing to the side, his wand lying on the ground at his feet. He was unable or unwilling to fight anymore.

The noble thing to do was give Voldemort a chance to surrender himself, however unlikely that would be. Yet, Harry did not feel very noble at the moment. He pointed his wand at Voldemort, and despite Hermione’s warning, shouted: ‘Petrificus Totalus.’

If Voldemort stiffened, it was only for a split second, and then a vicious smile spread on his face. ‘Seems like I’m still the stronger wizard between the two of us,’ he said. He pulled a long sword out of a sheath at his belt and took a step forward. When he spoke again, his words did not come out as English, but as Parseltongue: ‘Drop your wand and I will grant you a quick death.’

Harry wanted to smile in contempt like his opponent often did, but found himself unable to. A small voice in the back of his head told him that he was likely to regret the decision not to surrender his wand before the night was over. ‘Expelliarmus!’ he ordered, taking a step back.

Voldemort’s wand vibrated wildly, but did not leave his hand. Once it was steady again, Voldemort pointed it at Harry and bellowed: ‘Arbor!’

Harry’s retreat was cut abruptly as his feet stuck to the ground. It felt like his legs had suddenly grown strong roots that reached into the floor and down to the very foundations of the castle.

Voldemort used the timeout to toss the rest of the Aurors behind his impassable barrier, stopping them from incarcerating the rest of his followers. Harry saw several of them scrambling to their feet and trying to work an opening in the force field, but he had other things to worry about. With a victorious smile, watching the last of the Aurors captured, Voldemort advanced on him, the sharp end of his sword leading the way.

In all his years fighting the Death Eaters, Harry had never encountered this spell, and he had never tried breaking out of it. He concentrated on the roots that bound him to the ground, tearing them one by one in his mind. With each root he felt like he was cutting parts of his own body. His legs began to bleed in small rivulets, but he went on until he was able to release one foot, and then the other. By the time he was free, Voldemort’s sword was so close to him that he had to use the newly regained control of his legs and kick it aside.

The right kick had momentarily put a distance between him and the blade, but his injured left leg could not support his weight, and he fell, landing on his back. He propped himself on his elbows, but could not rise more than that. Voldemort’s sword pressed under his chin, and Harry had to tilt his head back to avoid his throat being pierced through.

‘Finally,’ Voldemort said, pressing the sword harder into Harry’s neck and drawing blood. ‘The killing curse has failed so many times on you, and yet you are vanquished by a simple Muggle device. A most appropriate death for the champion of Muggles and Mudbloods.’ He pressed the sword even harder still, and over the sharp pain, Harry felt himself beginning to choke.

Harry looked to the captured students and Aurors, the sword tracing a red line on the side of his neck. They were all staring at him, their eyes wide with shock. He could see several of them wiping a tear, and he wondered if they were crying for him, for themselves, or for the war as a whole. Little air was left in his lungs, and he could draw no more with the pressure on his throat. Only two words stood between him and the rest of his life; words he did not want to say, but felt he could not ignore any longer. He pointed his wand at Voldemort and with the last of his breath choked them out: ‘Avada Kedavra.’

***

It took long minutes before the combined efforts of Sirius, Dumbledore, Percy, and several other Aurors opened a gap in the force field, wide enough for a grown man to walk through. Harry knew he should have helped them from his side of the barrier, but he could do nothing but stand there dumbly and watch them work.

He had to take his eyes off Voldemort’s perfectly still body. The Dark Lord had made no sound when he’d fallen It was as if he wasn’t real enough to stir the air around him, or thump on the floor. At least, there was a body this time. Harry would have liked to imagine that the terrible face was peaceful, but that was impossible. The crimson in his eyes had dimmed somewhat, but his gaze was still fixed on Harry in a mixture of horror, amazement, and accusation.

Despite his fierce objection, Sirius held Harry in a solid hug the minute he passed through, and Harry was grateful for that. He needed the contact to know that the battle was over; to know that he would never again have to repeat the curse words he’d just said.

‘Harry Potter?’

The voice was that of Minister Fudge, but the assertion in it belonged to someone of real stature, and the puppet Minister of Magic never had been that. Harry wriggled free of Sirius’ arms and turned to the speaker, who turned out to be Minister Fudge after all.

The Minister stood taller than ever, looking solemnly at the boy before him. So many times Harry wished that he would admit his error; that he would come to apologise for not believing him about the Dark Lord’s return. Now, as Voldemort’s body lay at their feet as solid evidence, all he wished was to be left alone. ‘Yes?’ he asked dryly.

‘You are under arrest for the use of an unforgivable curse. Your immediate sentence without trial is life in Azkaban. Turn around and place both hands behind your back.’

Harry did as he was told, but before Fudge could spell-bind his hands, Sirius pushed him aside and stood between him and the Minister. ‘Are you out of your bloody mind?’ he yelled.

The shouts drew the attention of the Aurors in the hall. They left their tasks of clearing the rest of the force field away and gathered round.

‘He’s right,’ Harry mumbled. ‘I did use an unforgivable curse. I knew this meant life in Azkaban before I…’ He couldn’t say ‘killed him.’

Sirius looked at him with a mixture of astonishment and anger. ‘You’ve been through a lot today,’ he said. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. It was in self-defence. He would have killed you otherwise, and then he would have killed the rest of us as well. There would have been no one to stop him. We…’

‘The law is the law,’ Fudge interrupted. ‘It says that using the killing curse results in life in Azkaban, regardless of the circumstances.’

‘Not unless the Minister of Magic pardons him,’ Dumbledore said, putting both hands on Harry’s shoulders.

‘I will do no such thing!’ Fudge fumed.

‘I wasn’t talking about you,’ Dumbledore said calmly. ‘I was talking about the new minister of magic. The one who wasn’t one of Voldemort’s followers. Isn’t it true, Percy?’ He moved his piercing gaze from Fudge to the young redhead man who was standing next to him.

Fudge followed Dumbledore’s eyes, and a confused expression appeared on his face. ‘Weatherby?’ he said.

Percy turned his wand on himself. ‘Finito incantatem occulto,’ he said, taking his time with every syllable. ‘Not exactly,’ he added once the obscuring spell was removed and Fudge could see him for who he really was. He turned to look at Dumbledore. ‘Of course Harry is pardoned, although this shouldn’t have been necessary. The law must be changed to consider self-defence. Adding a clause about saving the wizarding world can’t hurt either.

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry felt a great relief. It wasn’t the fact that he wouldn’t go to jail. The idea of being locked away didn’t bother him at all a few minutes before. It was the unanimous support he’d received from everybody there; the fact that they all thought that he had no other choice; the way they all nodded and hummed in agreement when Sirius said that in using the killing curse, he had saved them all. Harry was beginning to fathom the fact that cursing a vicious murderer to death did not make him a killer. He would be able to look himself in the mirror again some day. Not today, though. The way to acceptance still stretched far into the future.

‘We’ll see about that,’ Fudge said, but he suddenly looked his old unconfident, incompetent self.

‘One more thing,’ Percy said, trying not to look too smug. ‘Cornelius Fudge, you are under arrest for the practice of dark magic, abuse of your position in the ministry, conspiracy to take over the ministry, murder, attempted murder, abduction, assault of ministry officials, assault of civilians, forgery, and misuse of a quill.’

‘Misuse of a quill?’ Fudge said, too stunned to resist the ropes that were being wrapped around his wrists.

‘All right, I’ll take that one off. Your trial should prove interesting either way.’

Harry didn’t feel like laughing, but he was forced to join the others with a snort at the look on Fudge’s face. With a violent jerk Fudge broke out of the Aurors’ hold on him and rushed straight to Voldemort’s body. He dropped to his knees beside it, and tried shaking it with his bound hands. ‘Master! Master! Wake up.’

Harry took a step towards him. Fascinated, the others stayed behind to watch, forcing Harry to follow through with his first instinct. ‘I don’t think he’s coming back this time,’ Harry said, and the words didn’t taste as bitter as before.

‘But he must!’ Fudge cried. ‘I never thought…’ he stopped, looking at Harry with eyes full of pure hatred. ‘You did it!’ he said. ‘You killed the Dark Lord! He’ll make you pay!’

Sirius hauled Fudge to his feet, stopping his tirade. ‘You did it all to yourself,’ he said, handing him to two stern-looking Aurors. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, Harry needs to be cleaned up a bit and then he has a party to attend to. Unlike you, the Weasley twins did think of this possible outcome. I would have warned you not to eat any of the treacle tarts, but you don’t have to worry about those where you’re going.’

With that, Sirius turned Harry towards the doors, taking him away from the battle, the bodies, and the images that were forever carved into both their minds.

***

Lucius Malfoy strolled into the infirmary, his chin raised and his demeanour majestic. His black robes were without a blemish or a tear, not showing even a hint of the battle he had just been in. He was followed closely by Lupin and Lee. They seemed ready to blast him into oblivion if he would just give them a reason. It also seemed that interrupting their post-battle celebrations would be considered a good reason in a very short while. With the nurse’s help he found Draco’s bed and slid behind the closed curtain.

Hermione got to her feet, feeling awkward in her ripped and tarnished robes. In her haste to join Draco in the infirmary, she didn’t even bother to put a simple binding spell on the most obvious tears, and now not only did she look like a beggar next to Lucius, she was also too exposed to be comfortable.

Draco grabbed her hand with more force than he seemed capable of. ‘Father,’ he whispered, and his frail voice sounded like he was begging forgiveness.

Hermione could not accept that Draco would need to apologise for having had the courage to do the right thing and most likely save the wizarding world. She moved to block Lucius’ way, pressing Draco’s hand in encouragement.

‘So,’ Lucius said, moving within a foot from her. He studied her at length, his face slowly contorting into a sneer. Hermione noticed that Lupin’s hand moved to his wand. ‘You’re the little witch who set my son straight.’

Hermione frowned. ‘He was fighting against you,’ she said.

‘And I’m glad that he did,’ Lucius retorted. His cold stare said otherwise. ‘Obviously, I was under Imperius the entire time.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Hermione said to the approving nods of Lupin and Lee. She felt Draco squeeze her hand and looked at him. He didn’t say a thing, but his eyes were a dark shade of blue, and she could see them pleading with her.

‘And you can prove it?’ Lucius said.

Hermione bit her lip. She had never turned down a challenge before, certainly not one that would put away a man responsible for so many deaths. But Draco’s hand was growing cold in hers, and he deserved to be granted one request after years of sacrifice for the fight. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, defeated. Draco’s squeeze on her hand was short and grateful.

‘In that case, move aside and let me see my son.’

Reluctantly, Hermione cleared a path for him. She sat back on Draco’s bed, lacing her fingers through his. Lucius looked at their joined hands, and then took the chair by the bed, raising his gaze to Draco.

“What did the nurse say?’ he asked, and his voice was suddenly tender.

Draco blinked, his tense muscles relaxing. He sighed in relief before replying. ‘I’ll live.’

‘I take it that you’ll need a larger suite of rooms when you come home,’ Lucius said, looking at Hermione with disgruntled acceptance.

Hermione shivered. ‘Maybe I won’t prove that you willingly served Voldemort,’ she said, smiling as Lucius also shivered, ‘but I will not live in the same house as you.’

Lucius didn’t even grace her with a quick glance. He concentrated on Draco. ‘Maybe I can’t help the girls that you choose,’ he said, ‘but you will live in the Manor or -’

‘No, Father,’ Draco interrupted. ‘I’ve already had to make that choice once, and you know what I chose. Don’t force me away from you again.’

Lucius looked at him, speechless for several minutes. Then, he nodded with what seemed like new respect for his son. ‘I suppose you’re old enough to have your own manor. I can build you a little place in Cromarty. You’ve always been fond of the Black Island, and it isn’t too far away.’

Draco did not give his answer immediately. He first looked at Hermione, who would have preferred to be as far away from Lucius as possible, but knew what he wanted, and nodded. ‘Give us a week to consider it,’ Draco said.

‘A week it is,’ Lucius said, getting up. ‘But don’t take much longer if you want the place to be ready by wintertime. His face hardened as Lupin put a hand on his shoulder and turned him, not very gently, towards the door. ‘I’ll see you in court?’ he asked Draco in a tone that sounded more like an order.

‘Yes, Father. I will be there to testify.’

Lucius turned to look at him one last time before leaving the room. ‘You did good,’ he said. ‘I’m proud of you, Son.’

Hermione looked at the door long after it was shut behind him. ‘Was he serious?’ she asked.

‘I believe he was,’ Draco said. ‘I knew he was going to build a house for me one day, and I kept mentioning Cromarty Island as a possible location. I didn’t know I would end up with a good witch who wouldn’t want to be close to him.’

‘I didn’t mean the house,’ Hermione said, ‘I meant his last comment, about being proud of you.’

‘Oh,’ Draco said, and his jaw tightened. ‘I hope he meant it. At least he knows that what I did will probably save him from spending a very long time in Azkaban. He must be at least happy for that.’

‘You know,’ Draco added after a few minutes of silence. ‘We need to talk about many things, but I’m too weak, and too tired, and too near you to want to talk. Why don’t you lie down beside me and let me hold you for a while? I’m afraid that’s all I can do in my condition.

Hermione smiled.

***

Draco never thought that a force field would be necessary to prevent people from coming into the Hogwarts infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was usually enough to intimidate anyone who didn’t absolutely have to be there. That morning, however, it seemed that every wizard and witch in the world wanted to enter, and those who couldn’t think of good excuses came bearing gifts.

During the party the night before, all the beds were pushed together, and when the Weasley twins had exploded their last cracker, Hermione insisted that his and Harry’s beds should remain close. ‘It’ll make it much easier for the fans,’ she had said.

‘I’ve never had so many chocolate frogs in my life,’ Draco said. ‘Not even on my fifth birthday, when my father bought me the entire stock of Honeydukes. But you must be used to it by now, aren’t you, Potter?’

‘No,’ Harry said curtly, not bothering to open his eyes. Tamara slowly brushed his hair with her fingers, as if trying to pull out the thoughts that still bothered him.

‘Weasley is certainly enjoying himself,’ Draco said. ‘He comes in and out every chance he gets, giving interviews every single time. I don’t even want to imagine the ‘Prophet’ tomorrow. It’ll be full of glorious lies about you and slander about me.’

‘Then don’t,’ Harry said. Tamara bit her lips.

‘Isn’t it enough that you wouldn’t talk to anyone in the party yesterday?’ Draco asked. ‘I think it’s time to snap out of it.’

‘I just killed a man,’ Harry said hoarsely.

‘Right,’ Draco drawled. ‘You’re forgetting that I was there for more than a few of your mad intrusions into Death Eaters’ bases. It’s not the first time you’ve killed someone.’

‘It’s not the same,’ Harry said, sitting up to look at Draco. ‘I didn’t mean to kill them then. I had no choice if I wanted to get out of there alive.’

‘And you killed in cold blood last night,’ Draco said. ‘By all means, you should have used the Twitchy Ears hex on the Dark Lord. That would have definitely made him drop his sword. By the way, you should tell Madam Pomfrey to fix you up better than she did. You look like Nearly Headless Nick.’

Unconsciously, Harry’s hand was raised to his neck, where the sword had cut him. ‘There’s no scar,’ Tamara said. ‘He’s just teasing you. Nonetheless, he has a point about everything else.’

Harry managed a half smile, not noticing the commotion that this simple gesture caused in the crowd by the door. ‘It’s going to be like that again,’ he said with a deep sigh of a man accepting his bitter fate. ‘I think I liked you better as a Death Eater.’

‘No thank you,’ Hermione said hurriedly before Draco had a chance to respond.

‘I imagine it was a difficult part to play,’ said an ancient voice to their left.

Draco turned his head to see Dumbledore grabbing a chair and sitting between the two beds. He reached into Hermione’s hair and took out the bright little comb that still hung crookedly in it. Then, he handed it to the Headmaster. ‘I promised to give this back to you,’ he said.

Dumbledore put a hand over his. ‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘After all, you can’t take away a Valentine’s gift.’

‘I should have guessed,’ Hermione mumbled, taking the comb back from Draco. ‘This kind of ancient magic… Only a few people could have made it work.’

‘And you figured it out, Dumbledore said. ‘Cleverest girl this school has ever seen. Lucky for all of us that the magic worked. It seemed that without your love Draco could not have transmitted Voldemort’s powers last night.’

Hermione frowned, as if remembering something unpleasant. ‘Why didn’t you use all that power?’ she asked. ‘You could have easily defeated Voldemort, and Harry nearly died when you didn’t.’

‘My dear child,’ Dumbledore said, heaving a great sight. ‘We came very close to losing the war last night, but if I had used the powers stolen from a thousand wizards, we would have lost more than the war. We would have lost every ideal we fought for.’

Dumbledore sagged back into his chair. He looked as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders, and he was finally free to be tired and old. Draco held his breath, almost expecting the Headmaster to say something like: ‘Now I can die in peace.’

‘Now, we can finally start living peacefully, as we were meant to,’ Dumbledore said, a smile spreading from his lips to his eyes. ‘Of course, the Auror’s work is never quite done. They will keep hunting down those who practice the Dark Arts, but I think we will never be able to punish all the Death Eaters.’ As he looked at Draco, instead of disappointment his face shone with hope.

‘I think I’ll try to apply for a job in Percy’s… I mean the Minister’s old division,’ Draco said. ‘How about it, Potter? You want to be on my team?’

‘Not on your life, Malfoy,’ Harry said. ‘I’m going to play Quidditch. I already spoke to Viktor Krum yesterday. He said that if I survive the battle, he’d set me up an interview with England’s coach.’

‘And shoot himself in the leg?’ Draco laughed. ‘He’ll fix you an interview in the next millennium, maybe.’

‘All Harry has to do is hint that he’s interested to any one of the journalists waiting outside,’ Hermione said.

‘What’s the matter?’ Draco said. ‘Don’t you want him to become an Auror?’

‘And see the two of you kill each other after you miraculously survived the war? It’ll be a real shame to lose both of the wizarding world’s heroes for a fight over who gets into a room first or some other ridiculous quarrel you always manage to find.’

‘Quidditch it is for you, then,’ Draco said, looking at Harry. ‘The next world cup is this summer. Not enough time to prepare. I’ll enjoy seeing you make a fool of yourself.’

‘Are they often like this?’ Tamara asked, putting a hand over Harry’s mouth to stop his retort.

‘All the time,’ Hermione sighed. ‘I think this is some weird courting ritual. Sometimes I don’t know which of us Draco prefers.’

‘There’s no competition,’ Draco said in a low voice. He put his arm around her and pulled her into a deep kiss. ‘If this ever makes you doubt me again, I will even give up pointing out Potter’s flaws.’ He kissed her again longer this time, and when they came up for air, the entire crowd outside the hospital wing broke into applause.

***