Within the Hogwarts castle stood a crowd of no less than 1,000 witches and wizards. They were silent, each wearing a grave face, their wands gripped tightly in their hands. All of them wore robes of black, the light catching on the fabric and glinting off as if they wore armor instead. A man, his robes a little more tattered than the others, stood pacing back and forth in front of them. He stopped somewhere around the middle of the front row, and gestured outward. A boy, no older than 17, appeared by his side shortly afterwards. The man in the worn robes clapped the boy on the back, and then raised his head to speak.

“Today, you stand before me as an army,” Remus Lupin called out to the crowd, “You are an army that has waited to march for the past sixteen years. Tonight, I present to you the Chosen One. He will lead us to victory!”

The crowd bellowed loudly as Harry Potter’s hand was lifted into the air. Lupin reached a hand up and put it on his shoulder. Harry, trying to focus on something, scanned the room for familiar faces. He found Luna, up against the wall, radishes swinging from her ears. She had come to cheer them on into battle. There, near the far end of the back row, stood Neville. He had no idea just how close he had come to being the one standing before them now. He had his hands high in the air, clapping for the boy he considered his hero. Harry’s eyes moved on. He saw Hagrid, the tallest of them all, mouthing Harry’s name and looking more ready then ever. He grinned, gestured out to his giant friend, and then shifted his gaze.

He found the two he had been searching for. Hermione, her hair as bushy as ever, was jumping up and down, cheering at him and boosting his confidence. Ron stood beside her, nervous but ready, happy to know that it was his best friend standing before them. Harry gave them each a nod, which they returned. He knew in that moment that he could do this. He could lead them in. As he began to come back and make his speech, a final face caught his eye. There she was, standing against the wall with her mother. It was the face that had haunted him since the summer of last year. It was the one he had had to let go of. Ginny.

She looked more beautiful then he had even been able to remember. Her long, shining red hair fell down upon her lovely face. Her emerald eyes, as vivid as his, shone brightly out at him. She was angry, this he knew. Lupin had declared that no underage wizard would be allowed to fight in this battle. Ginny, who knew and loved most of those going into battle today, wanted desperately to be a part of it. He hoped that he could speak to her before he left. He just needed to hear her voice again. Shaking his head, he pulled his thoughts away from her. Then, silencing the crowd with a gesture of his hands, he spoke.

“I know that most of you are scared,” he said, “and that most of you aren’t sure if you have the courage to do this. I know this because I am feeling the same way. I don’t know what is going to happen when we find the Death Eaters. I can’t predict the future. But, I think that if you think about the ones that you care about today, then you will make it through.”

He looked up at Ginny, and she locked eyes with him. He snapped his gaze back to the crowd.

“Remember the ones who have fallen before you,” he continued, his voice getting steadily stronger, “and the ones who can’t be here today. Fight for them and their memory. Remember Dumbledore, and everything he offered to us. When you get out and you face them, remember everything! Remember the pain that you felt when you lost them, and the love that you felt for them! Remember it all!”

The crowd gave a loud cheer, and Harry handed it back over to Lupin. He silenced them with his wand. Then, gently, he gestured out the door. They began to scatter, some off to say goodbye to family members. Others were following Lupin out the door. Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry’s hands and pulled them over to where the Weasleys and Luna were standing. It was Luna who spoke first.

“You be careful out there today,” she said in her airy tone, and all three of them nodded, “You watch out for those Death Eaters, and you fight hard! Oh, and be on alert for the Toxic Snorkflug. They live in pine trees, and they like to feast on human flesh.”

“Yeah, we’ll be sure to wear our Snorkflug repellent,” said Ron, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Goodbye, Luna,” she said, and Harry gave her a farewell smile.

Then, it was Mrs. Weasley’s turn with them. She pulled Ron into a tight hug, and reached up to wipe a tear from her eye.


“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to make all of you younger right now,” she said, and a hiccupped chuckle escaped her, “Take care of yourselves.” She kissed them all on the cheek, and gave them each a hug. Now, it was Ginny's turn for farewell.

Ron said goodbye to Ginny quickly. It was an emotional exchange of a hug and kiss. Then, Hermione went up for her goodbye. Ginny’s eyes watered, but she didn’t let herself cry. She was strong. Harry loved her more for it. It was his turn now.

“Long time, no see, Gin,” Harry said, and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robes. He was nervous about saying goodbye to her. He wanted to do it right, to let her know that he loved her. That, however, might put her in danger.

But it is over today, he thought. It all ends today.


“I know,” Ginny replied, “It has been a long time.”

“I wanted to tell you before I left that…” Harry began. He was stuttering. His tongue was tied. He couldn’t think.

“I wanted to tell you that…I’m…I…”


He felt her put her finger to his lips. Then, leaning in slowly, she kissed him. He wanted to forget about the battle, to stay in that moment forever. Sadly, it ended just after it had begun.

“Be careful out there,” she said to him, “You keep yourself alive.”

“I love you, Ginny Weasley,” he told her, and he kissed briskly again on the cheek. She smiled.

“Come back to me, Harry Potter,” she said, and he laughed.

“You know I will,” he said. He grabbed her hand and backed away, his grip loosening more and more the further they grew apart. He walked backwards into the crowd, watching her until he could no longer see her face.

Lupin had predicted that the Death Eaters would be located in or around Spinner’s End. A dead fox had been found in a field there last year, and he had a high suspicion that it had died after being hit by a Killing Curse. It was about a three-day walk from Hogwarts, but Lupin just didn’t feel secure about them Apparating. Half of the crowd had just learned how to do it, and he didn’t need them all ending up in strange place. He decided to make the journey in a covered area. The easiest way of avoiding being spotted from the sky would be to walk through the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid, who knew the forest better, led the way, followed closely by Tonks and Lupin.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the front row. Hermione and Ron were holding hands, and Harry was wishing desperately that Ginny were here. Hermione turned to talk to him.

“Do you really think that the Death Eaters will all be at Spinner’s End?” she asked him. Harry shook his head.

“Probably just two or three at the most,” he told her, “but that’s what we want. We can’t take them all out at one time. It’s better to eliminate them in small numbers.”

‘What about Voldemort, though?” Ron asked, “I mean, who’s to stop him from going off and attacking anymore people if we can’t find him.”

“We’ll find him, Ron,” Harry told him, “Believe me, we’ll find him.”

“Hush,” snapped Hermione.

They had stopped moving. Hagrid had signaled to Lupin and Tonks to hold up. Hermione, Ron, and Harry whipped out their wands, and those behind them did the same. Harry watched Hagrid inch forward, silent as he could be with his large feet. Not hearing anything, he waved them on. They had only taken two steps when Harry heard it.

A low, resounding growl came from the right side of the forest. Signaling up ahead, the three leaders stopped. Lupin raised his wand in the direction of the noise, poised and ready for anything. In a flash of a second, Fenrir Greyback was upon him.

“AMBUSH!!” Hermione screamed, and the three of them ran forward to assist Lupin. Harry could hear footsteps running out of the woods, and he knew instantly that the Death Eaters were attacking. Ignoring them, he pointed his wand at Greyback.

“STUPEFY!” he uttered, but the spell was deflected. He couldn’t see who had shielded Greyback, but he and his friends moved in to wrestle him off of Lupin. Ron was hit by one of Fenrir’s hands, and the strength that came from them was enough to knock him backward.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Tonks shouted, and her spell was deflected too. Harry’s eyes snapped around, looking for the defenseman. He found no one there. His eyes snapped down to Lupin. His eyes were open, but Harry knew that blank look too well. It was the same look that Dumbledore had given him last year after Snape had hit him with the Killing Curse.

“LEAVE HIM!” he shouted to Ron, Hermione, and Tonks. Ron and Hermione, stunned momentarily, shook their heads. Harry motioned for them to move on into the battle. They obeyed. Tonks, however, continued her attempts to Stun Greyback.

“TONKS, MOVE ON!!!” Harry shouted, but she ignored him. He lunged at her and knocked her to the ground. She pushed him up.

“LISTEN TO ME, TONKS!” Harry bellowed, “Any minute now, Greyback is going to realize Lupin’s dead! You have to leave, or he’ll kill you too!”

“I LOVED HIM!” Tonks shouted, “I LOVED HIM!”

“Harry, the battle needs yer!” Hagrid uttered to him. Knowing that he had to move, he unwillingly left Tonks. He couldn’t sacrifice any more lives because she was too stubborn to listen to him. He raced into the battle.

Looking around, he knew they were outnumbered. Voldemort’s ranks had grown sufficiently since their last battle. He fired a Killing Curse at Rookwood, who was attempting to sneak up and murder Mad-Eye Moody as he dueled with Avery. He searched for Ron and Hermione. Hermione was battling a new Death Eater, and he saw her hit him with a Stunning spell. Ron was locked in combat with Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Much as he wanted to aid him, the battle needed him more. Knowing that they were alive was enough for him. As he whirled around, ready to run in the opposite direction, he found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy.

“Hello Potter,” his enemy sneered, and he shot a torture curse at him. Harry deflected it with his wand.

“Coward!” Harry spat at him. Draco merely sneered.

“You die today!” he cackled, and then Harry felt his feet go out from under him. Leaping up, he swung his wand at Malfoy’s face.

“Expelliarmus!” he cried, and Malfoy’s wand flew away. He lunged forward to finish him.

“Crucio!” uttered a voice behind him, and Harry felt a wave of agonizing pain sweep over him. He felt as if a thousand pins were puncturing his limbs. His body was surely on fire. Rolling in agony, he tried to open his eyes. The pain receded, and he saw his tormentor. It was Bellatrix Lestrange. He tried to get up, and she hit him again.

“HARRY!” he heard Hermione utter. He could hear her footsteps rushing over to aid him.

“Ah, Granger,” Lestrange said, and he saw her make a slashing movement with her wand. The next thing he knew, Hermione fell in a heap on the forest floor.

“NO!” Harry uttered, and he crawled over to her. She was as still as a corpse. He rounded on Bellatrix.

“STUPEFY!” he cried, but she deflected it, and immobilized him. Unable to move, rooted to the spot, he heard her call for her master.

“I have him, my Lord!” she cried, “Bring in the dark ones, and complete the Prophecy as it should be!"

The land grew cold. Harry watched above him, horrified by what was happening. A hundred Dementors swooped in upon the army, feeding and kissing upon the surviving souls. He heard one near him, and watched it swoop over his head, Hermione held in its arms. He wanted to move, to save her, but he couldn’t budge. Then, he felt life return to his body…and a foot came down on his shoulder. Looking up, he found himself face to face with Lord Voldemort.

“It ends today, Potter,” he said in his high-pitched voiced. He laughed satanically. Harry attempted to get up, and Voldemort’s heel dug deeper into his shoulder. He bit his tongue against the pain. Looking around, he noticed that no one could see what was happening to him. The Dementors had blocked their view of Harry and Voldemort.

“You’ll be back with your beloved godfather and headmaster soon, Harry,” he hissed, “Don’t worry about this world, though. We’ll take good care of your friends…especially Ginny Weasley.”

Harry had no time to react. Before his eyes could even light up with terror, he felt something icy pierce his chest. It was a Killing Curse, this he knew. The world swam before his eyes. Names raced through his foggy mind. He felt darkness closing in on him, and he focused on those he knew he would see in a few moments.

Mum…Dad…Cedric…Sirius…Dumbledore…Lupin.

One more thought before his mind went blank. He hoped that she would be okay.

Ginny.

An odd sound awakened her from her deep slumber. Rising from the bed, she felt the pain in her ribs, and it nearly sent her reeling once again into oblivion. It was dark where she was, no light at all. A stench rose high in the air…a stench of death…and she knew that she was in a Hell of some sort. Gazing around gently, her hands upon her bruised and battered chest, she saw that she was in a large, stone four-post bed. Blood red drapes hung down from the banister. Her sheets matched the drapes, and there was white lace that ran around the border of her comforter. She knew that she had never been here before, and had no idea where on Earth she could be. Then, the sound resounded again.

It was a low hiss, like that of a cat, coming from the corner of the room that she was in. Turning slowly, her ribs ready to burst open, she saw a pair of eyes glint at her from across the bed. Backing up as quickly as she could in her condition, she felt her head go back again the headboard of the bed. She raised her hand to make sure that she hadn’t split open a wound there. Then, clutching her sore and battered chest, she attempted to keep her breathing steady.

“Hermione Granger,” said a high and evil voice, “You have awakened.”

“Who are you?” she asked, “How did I get here?” She tried desperately to control the terror in her voice. She had read about a situation like this. Praying that it wasn’t what she thought it was, she listened to what he had to say.

“The Dementors delivered you to us,” said the dark stranger, and he moved in closer to her, “You are our payment.”

“Payment for what?” she asked, “What have you given to him?”

Her ribs gave a painful throb. She doubled over in anguish.

“For the past 16 years, we have served the Dark Lord,” he said, and she could feel his breath on her neck, “No one ever saw us. The newspapers never even mentioned our presence on the Powerful Side. But we were there. We killed for him, and we used our powers to bring more into our league. We didn’t get as much press as the other creatures that helped him, but we worked just as hard. Now, he has decided to repay us for our service…with you.”

“And why did he need you?” she asked, and the terror had entered her voice now, “What powers do you possess?”

“We are creatures of the night,” he answered, “And we can make more creatures of the night.”

“Werewolves?” she asked fearfully.

“No. No, the werewolves are the ones that you hear about. We, however, are more powerful, more entrancing. I dare say you have heard of us yourself…in stories and myth. We are the vampires.”

Hermione could feel the nausea sweep over her. She heaved, her ribs now on fire, the terror making her sick. There was a swish of cold air, and suddenly, she felt a cold, icy hand upon her neck. Her eyes slowly began to grow accustomed to the dark. She could see him now. The vampire was next to her on the bed, hunger in his black eyes. His stringy black hair hung down in front of his deathly pale face. The blue lips of the undead moved close to her face. She tried desperately to breath deep breaths, but the pain made it difficult. She turned her head away.

“Please,” she said to him, “Please don’t…I can’t fight it…I’m…”

“You suffer now, Hermione Granger,” said the vampire, “I can smell your pain. You want to die. You want to be relieved of it all.”

She shook her head, refusing to give in to what he was telling her. But she couldn’t ignore the truth. She was in such pain that she would have given anything for it to end. Then, something amazing happened.

A beautiful red light entered his eyes. She couldn’t help but stare at it. Soon, her mind was blank, free of emotion and thought. She could only hear his words.

“Let me ease your pain,” he said, and she felt his cold, soothing lips upon her neck, “Let me take it all away.”

“Can it be gone?” she asked, “This pain in my chest? The fear in my heart? All of it?”

“It can be,” he said, “Just allow me to ease it for you.”

“Yes,” she said.

He came at her so fast that she didn’t have time to scream. The teeth pierced her throat, and she felt her own blood ooze. The pain in her ribs had been transferred to the wound now on her neck. She let out a cry, and then a sense of wonderful numbness began to overtake her. She suddenly felt dizzy, but a strange sensation of relief and satisfaction was beginning to sweep over her. Suddenly, the world began to go dark. She let out a sigh as the creature feasted on her blood, and she began to grow cold. Blackness encircled her, and she welcomed it. This is what it felt like to die.

Hermione awoke later and felt as though a weight had been inserted into her head. Her eyes hurt, and she felt incredibly weak. The pain in her ribs was gone, and for an instant, she didn’t remember anything that had happened. Then, it all came rushing back, and she reached up to feel the puncture wounds on her neck. There were none. Sitting up was very difficult to do, but she managed it. She found something odd.

She was in the same room that she had been in last night, but it had been illuminated. A green tint had filled it, and she could see everything perfectly. There was a book on the nightstand next to her, and a bathroom to her right. She launched herself out of bed, her head throbbing painfully, and made way for it.

Once inside, she turned on the sink, and the warm water flowing over her hands was like heaven. Bending down slowly, she went to rinse her face. Her head was still in pain, like an annoying migraine, and she desperately tried to get rid of it with the water. It was to no avail. Sighing, she made for the door. She let out a small shriek. Her tormentor was there waiting for her.

“Did you have a good sleep, beloved?” he asked her, and she backed into the sink. She could see him extraordinarily well now, and she wanted to let out a scream of terror. He was a thin as a skeleton, with cheeks that pointed out from his face. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his eyes were as black as the midnight sky. His skeletal fingers resembled those of Voldemort’s, and his long, white fangs hung over his lower lip.

“I am not your beloved,” she answered strongly, and he moved in to touch her shoulders. Her head gave another painful throb, and she fell into his chest. There was no heartbeat to be heard there. She desperately tried to straighten up, flailing her arms about in the air, but he held her fast.

“Darling, just sit for a minute,” he said, and he moved his hand up and down her back. She shuddered involuntarily. The empty chest never rose to take a breath. She ignored the cold sweat of fear that began to drip down her face. Then, the question burning in her mind came out of her mouth.

“What happened to my friends?” she asked, and she pulled around to face him. Letting out a smile that showed every inch of his sharp and bloodstained teeth, he looked her in the eye.

“Ron Weasley escaped and is now a Death Eater by force,” he said. She put her hand up to her mouth and tried to hold back a shriek of disbelief.

“You loved him, didn’t you?” he asked. She remained silent, not wanting to answer. What he had said was true. She loved Ron, more than anything in the world. This creature may not be forgiving toward him if that was found that out.

“Shame you won’t see him again,” he told her. She shook her head, trying to ignore him. Then, another alarm went off in her mind. Why would she be in this sort of position if they had succeeded? She looked at him again.

“Harry?” she asked.

The vampire laughed.

“He is dead.”

Hermione’s legs buckled. Her headache had just been increased ten fold. She felt herself hit the vampire’s chest, and his strong hands supported her.

It was over. After everything they had hoped for, everything that they had planned, they had failed. Her best friend, her personal hero…he was gone. Never again would she gaze into those emerald eyes. Never again would she stare at that scar. Never again would she hear him laugh. He was broken, defeated…dead. Tears rolled down her eyes, and she felt the vampire wrap his arms around her. She pushed him away.

“Leave me alone!” she cried, but he followed her and held her again.

“Did I upset you, my love?” he sneered.

“I AM NOT YOUR LOVE!” she cried, “YOU…YOU ARE FILTH! YOU AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT…”

She bent over and put her face in her hands. Her head felt as if it was about to split open. She now knew that pain that Harry endured each time his scar throbbed.

Used to endure. Had throbbed.

“Your head pains you,” he said to her, and she stared at him intently.

“How do you know?” she asked, and he laughed.

“The hunger always causes us headaches,” he answered her, and she gawked at him. He didn’t mean that? It couldn’t be.

“What do you mean by “us?” she asked.

“You and me and our kind,” he said.

No.

“Am I…are you saying that…” she stuttered, and he moved his hand over his mouth to silence her.

“You are becoming a vampire,” he said to her, “And soon, after a couple more of my feedings, it will not matter to you that Harry Potter is dead. You will no longer recall being a mortal…and the darkness will enter your heart. And you will embrace it. Welcome to the other side of the world, Hermione Granger…the side that dominates now.”

Her legs gave way and she fell into him. The world was erased, and unconsciousness swooped in upon her.

Ginny’s heart felt dead inside of her. She knew that it was there, that it was beating, but she could no longer feel anything inside of it. There was no fear within her, no guilt or regret…just an emptiness.

It all had happened so fast, Ginny wasn’t even sure if she remembered it all correctly. McGonagall had come rushing down the stairs, announcing an attack by the Death Eaters. Immediately, those inside the castle realized that the attempt to defeat Voldemort had failed. The crowd had disbanded, running in any and all direction, searching for a way out. There had been a sound like that of thunder upon the door. Mrs. Weasley had grabbed Ginny’s hand, and whisked her away towards the dungeons. It had been at that time that the Death Eaters broke through. Killing Curses had been cast, and a man had fallen dead at her feet. His wife, rushing over to catch him, had pushed Ginny into a wall, and her head had collided with the stone. She had awakened in a dark chamber, with Malfoy’s shadow looming over her. He had relayed to her the story of her mother’s capture and imprisonment in Azkaban. He told her of Ron’s capture and conversion into the Death Eaters, and of the tribute he had given to the vampires. She had screamed when she was told of Harry’s death, and Malfoy had laughed maliciously. Then, he had whispered to her that she was his servant, belonging to him and his family.

They had placed her under an obedience charm. With a wave of Draco’s wand, her free will had been sucked from her body and placed in a box, locked away somewhere in the tower. She had been forbidden to enter through that door, and being bound to everything that a person told her to do, she would be unable to defy their word. She was no better than a House Elf, alive for the soul purpose of doing the duty of her master.

She worked as if in a trance, scrubbing but not really feeling the floor. She felt drained, exhausted from labor. In the times when she was alone, she would sink back in her past, lost in a memory with Harry. She could feel his hands, his hair, and his face in those moments, and she felt happiness begin to creep back into her being. As soon as it came, though, it was gone, thrown to the wind or jangled away with a slamming door.

There was a particular afternoon in which Narcissa had told her to clean the bathrooms. She sat there on the floor, scrubbing it clean of the lime scale and build up. She went to grab the bucket in front of her, reaching inside to fill the sponge with soap. There was a slick spot on the floor, and she slipped, clanging her head on the stone. She shut her eyes in pain. The next time she opened them, there he was, sitting before her, his piercing green eyes locking her in an instant trance. She reached up to stroke his face, wanting to kiss him. He was alive! She was going to be okay! This was all just a bad dream…

The door closed behind her, and she was thrown back into reality. Her hand was stroking air, and she quickly returned to cleaning the floor, not daring to speak for fear of another horrible order.

“You’re very pretty, you know,” she heard Draco Malfoy say, and she ignored him, humming a tune to herself. He moved in closer and knelt down so that he was level with her face. Smiling, he leaned in so that he was close to her cheek.

“It’s a pity that we have to have you bound to us like this,” he sneered, “No free will and an inability to run away. Shame, really.”

He placed his hand on hers, and she attempted to pull away.

“Don’t,” he said, and she was forced to keep it where it was. He laid his head on her shoulder and moved with her as she worked. She closed her eyes and tried to block out what was happening.

“We initiated your brother into our group today,” he said, “He screamed like a baby when we burned him with the mark.”

“I have a lot of work to do, sir,” she said coolly, “And I would appreciate it if you would allow me to get to it.”

“I hate to see you so sad, Ginny” he said, “Is it because you miss Potter? Was he as good of a kisser as me?”

Ginny shuddered, knowing what was coming next and incapable of fighting it.

“Kiss me,” said Malfoy, and her mind went wild. Her attempt to fight was feeble, and then the alarm that continuously went off after an order sounded. OBEY! OBEY! OBEY!

She felt her lips lock with his. He tasted of evil, and she tried to pull away, put Malfoy ordered her with his hands to cease all attempts to run. His fingers twisted through her hair, and she couldn’t stop any of it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of agony, it stopped. She placed both hands on the floor, breathing heavily because of anger. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and she felt numb. Malfoy snickered, and he grabbed her hands and lifted her up. Looking her straight in the eye, she watched him smile.

“Tonight, you will have dinner with me,” he said, “You will dress up, you will have fun, and you will pretend that you love me. At the end of the evening, you return to your duties smiling, and you will be happy that you were with me.”

“When do you need me down, sir?” she asked, and the tears were falling. She felt him kiss them away from her cheeks, and his lips burned her face.

“At six o’ clock,” he replied, “and you will look beautiful. Now…”
he let her down, “give me a curtsy.”

She felt her spine bend involuntarily, and a laugh came from him again.

“See you at six, my darling,” Malfoy jeered as he swept from the room. Ginny fell to her knees and wept.

Six o’ clock came all too quickly. Ginny had curled her hair and applied red lipstick. She had on a black dress that sparkled at the bottom, and she thought she looked exquisite in it. She was unable to smile though…the charm only worked when in the presence of a Malfoy. Grabbing her bag from the bedside table, she felt herself be drawn by the spell down the stairs and to the door, where Malfoy was standing. Instantly, she felt a small thrill of excitement in her gut…the charm was beginning to work its order of “FUN” upon her.

“You look magnificent,” Draco told her, and he kissed her on the neck. She returned it with a smile, and she took his hand in hers.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, and it pained her as his fingers closed over hers. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Pretending that it was Harry, and not Malfoy, she followed her tormentor out of the door.

“To a party at the Hog’s Head,” he said, “The Death Eaters are celebrating the two week anniversary of our victory.”

They trudged down the front doorsteps, Malfoy dragging her by the hand to his carriage. He allowed her to step in first and then followed her. Scrunched between the door and her master, Ginny was trapped in her own thoughts and fears. Knowing that she was going to a party that would consist mainly of Death Eaters made her stomach churn, and knowing that she would have to obey anything that Malfoy and his friends asked her to do scared her to death. She felt something on her shoulder, and knew that it was Draco’s hand.

“I know that you hate me, Ginny,” he said, stroking her hair in his fingers. She suppressed a shudder. She wanted to lie, to deny it, but she was caught. She had been ordered to always tell the truth, and she had no way that she could break that order.

“Yes, I do,” she said, “I detest you!”

“You will come to find that I am not as bad as I seem,” he replied to her comment, and he let a chuckle escape him as he raised his finger to touch her cheek. He kissed her softly on the cheek and then pulled her head around to face him.

“I demand that you fall in love with me,” he said, and she closed her eyes. She knew that when she opened them she would see him with a different perspective, that she would be in love with Malfoy and forget all about Harry. She wished that she could run, that she could scream, that she could escape. But, slowly, she opened them.

Malfoy was there, sitting exactly where he had been before. She searched her heart, looking for any feeling of love. All that she felt was the same hatred, the same repulsion that she had felt before.

“I can’t obey your order,” she said, and she began to relax. Draco, however, was angry.

“I ORDER YOU TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!!!”

Nothing happened. She smiled at him and then covered her mouth, trying to hide her joy.

“WHY?!?” roared Draco, “WHY CAN’T YOU?”

“You cannot demand love,” Ginny replied calmly, “It is something that happens naturally.”

It happened quickly. Malfoy, his anger at the point of boiling over, raised his hand and slapped her clear across the face. She slumped over, breathing heavily, her cheek stinging with pain. She turned back towards him. His face was twisted with rage and anger, his eyes wild.

“Kiss me, Ginny Weasley. Kiss me!”

The spell lunged her forward. Her lips were linked with his, and he had her wrapped in his arms. He pulled her hands up on top of his head, and she felt his greasy, slimy hair in her hands. He pulled away and pushed her against the door of the carriage. She felt her body slam into it. Then, the carriage stopped. They had reached the Hog’s Head.

“Get out,” he told her, and she opened the door and jumped onto the ground.

The inside of The Hog’s Head hadn’t changed since that day in Ginny’s fourth year. She saw the chair that Harry had sat in, occupied now by Macnair, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. Swallowing hard, she stood in the doorway and waited for Malfoy.

“Remember what I said,” he whispered in her ear, “You must have fun!”

She felt herself giggle, and went off to look for her brother. In order to have fun, she had to be around pleasurable company. Malfoy was anything but that. She searched to room, and spotted a tuft of red hair over at the bar. Smiling, she approached slowly, and then threw her arms around him.

“Hey, what the bloody Hell…” Ron started, and then froze. There she was, Ginny, the only person he had left in the world. He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, and he felt his heart swell with happiness.

“Hey there, Ron!” she said, and he was surprised to hear the excitement and happiness in her voice.

“Hey Ginny!” he said, and then moved down lower so that she could hear him whisper, “What’s going on? You seem so…happy.”

“I’ve been ordered to have fun,” she said, and she giggled involuntarily, “The Malfoys have sucked the free will from my body, so I have to obey everything they tell me to do.”

“My God,” he replied, and he moved his hand so that it touched her cheek, “You must be terrified.”

“I am,” she said, “but for now, I will be okay. It’s you I’m concerned about.”

“Okay, for the time being. I just…this world…it’s so…”

“Dark?” Ginny said, and the sadness crept into her voice. The spell shook it from her.

“I just miss them,” Ron said, and a tear trickled down his cheek, “I wish I could just see them one more time.”

Ginny pulled her brother into a hug and rubbed his back as he cried silently. A hand jolted her away from him quickly, and she heard him cry out.

“Family time is over,” Draco told her, “You come with me and talk with my friends!”

“No!” Ron shouted, “Draco, please!”

“Shut up, Weasel-bee,” he spat, and Ginny felt herself follow him.

“I love you, Ron!” she shouted to him, and she saw him blow her a kiss. Then, , cursing her enchantment, she followed Draco to meet with Lestrange and Narcissa.

“Draco!” Narcissa said, and she kissed him on the cheek, “Oh, and you brought the little Imp with you.”

“I forced her to be my date, mother,” he said, and his mother laughed. Turning towards Bellatrix, they reentered the conversation that her son had interrupted.

“So he really is dead, then?” Bellatrix asked, and Narcissa nodded.

“I heard that he was killed by centaurs after Weasley stunned him.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m too sorry. Never did trust him, Snape.”

“Snape’s dead?” Ginny asked, and then bit her lip. She didn’t know if she was permitted to speak. Narcissa rounded on her.

“You do not address me or Bellatrix in such a manner,” she said, “If I do not speak to you, you do not speak to me.”

Ginny nodded, and then apologized. Malfoy held her fast, as he realized she wanted to get away, and she had to stay. Suddenly, a smile crept up on Bellatrix’s face. She turned around and faced Ginny.

“Your boyfriend is dead as well, you know,” she said, and Ginny swallowed hard. Malfoy snickered behind her.

“I watched it happen,” she snickered, “It was so entertaining. The curse flooded him slowly, a little unusual. He wriggled like a worm on the ground, writhing in agony. You should have been there. I’m sure the image would have stuck with you.”

Ginny felt her anger boil inside of her. Ready to lash out, she tried to retort. Narcissa’s order of addressing her caught her fast, and she choked on her words. Bellatrix cackled even louder.

“Wanted to say something, did you, Ginny?” she asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

She tried to run, and Malfoy shook his head. Then, he pulled a chair out from one of the tables and waved his hands in the air. He took Ginny’s hand and pulled it up with his. Retrieving a glass and spoon from his mother’s table, he clanged the two together as if he were ready to make a toast. Ginny found Ron’s face in the crowd. He looked alarmed.

“Everyone, can I have your attention, please?” Draco requested, and the pub grew quiet. Malfoy, a smirk plastered across his face, continued.

“Nearly two weeks ago, we vanquished the great Harry Potter!” he shouted, and the crowd cheered.
“Now, today, his girlfriend is a servant in my family’s household. A simple obedience charm was cast, and now she obeys the command of anyone and everyone who gives her an order. With no free will, she is unable to say no to what people tell her to do.”

Ron had stood up, ready to defend his sister. Malfoy pointed to Macnair, who shot out of his seat and forced him back down onto his stool. The retired executioner remained there, ready to hold Ron down if it was necessary.

“I can make her do anything I want,” Malfoy uttered, “Anything. I can make her kiss me, clean up for me, DIE for me. I can make her sing for me or dance for me. If I gave the word, she would forget her own family.”

Ginny’s eyes grew wide with fear. She looked into Ron’s eyes, and she shook her head.

“Demonstrate for us, Draco!” shouted a voice.

“Why me?” he asked, “She’ll obey you as well. Give her an order, there, Jugson!”

“Give me a kiss, lass!” he called. Instantly, Ginny was drawn off of the chair, and across the room. She kissed the Death Eater across the lips, tasting the alcohol on his tongue. She tried not to look at Ron. She didn’t want to see any pain in his eyes. Malfoy called her back up to the chair, and she hurried to his side. He gestured out to the crowd again, and it was Rookwood who stood up this time.

“Why don’t you come down here and dance with me, little missy?” he bellowed, and she was swept over to him. Locking her hands in his, she began to sway back and forth in a waltz. He secured her arms around his neck and then ran his rough and filthy hands through her hair. He kissed her cheek and her neck. He stank of old whiskey and cigars, and she knew that he had been celebrating their victory every night for the past two weeks. She glanced over at Ron. He was flailing about, Macnair securing him down with a great force now. He made eye contact with her, and she shook her head, silently telling him to give it up.

“Stop looking at him, bitch!” Rookwood cried, and she snapped her eyes back to his ugly face.

“Alright, give her back to me now, Rookwood,” Draco called, and for once in her life, Ginny welcomed his command. She hustled back to the chair.

“Ginny,” called Bellatrix, “Why don’t you tell us how you felt about Harry? Tell us the truth about him.”

“He was as wonderful as they come,” she said, the words escaping her, “He could make me feel beautiful with a single glance. He was everything to me…everything. I…I loved him. I would have married him.”

She could feel hot tears dripping down her cheeks. Bellatrix had risen from her chair, and came up to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Ginny,” she said, and Ginny was surprised by her comforting gesture, “He’s dead. It would be better if you just began to forget about him.”

“NO!” Ginny called out, now realizing what had happened. It was an order. She had just been told to forget about Harry. She wouldn’t be able to stop it…the memories would leak away from her each day. She climbed off the chair and sunk to her knees on the floor, weeping uncontrollably. Trapped in her own mind and body, she could only sit there sobbing as the pub erupted in evil laughter.

From a far distant place, it seemed, came the faint noise of a kettle boiling over. A clang resounded somewhere too, and it was concluded that he had been placed outside of a kitchen. It hurt to think about things right now, and his mind felt so fuzzy. It was as if someone had clobbered him with a rock. His eyes felt like lead, too heavy to open, and his arms and legs sat immobile. He thought he felt a pillow beneath his aching head, and a soft mattress underneath him. He opened his mouth and let out a groan. Suddenly, there came a noise from somewhere in the far corners of the room. Feet were moving somewhere. Someone had obviously heard him, and they were coming to where he lay. Without strength or his ability to see, he waited for them.

The footsteps stopped at the edge of his bed. He knew that someone was standing above him, for he could hear his or her breath. He attempted to open his eyes and see who they were, but it was impossible…they were cemented shut, it seemed. His tongue, while it felt enlarged and out of use, moved around in his mouth. Slowly, in a slurred yet comprehendible speech, he asked the being standing before him, “Who are you?”

He heard a chair squeak on the floor, and heard someone sit down. Then, a hot rag slapped onto his face. The heat helped to relax his muscles, and he was able to open his eyes a little bit. The world was swirling before him, and objects were foggier than normal. He was confused and disoriented, and he couldn’t see the person who had come to sit by his side. He did, however, hear a voice.

“Your glasses are broken,” it said, “I was in the process of fixing them when I heard you wake up. Deciding that it was a little more important that I be here instead of in there, I left them on the counter and came to see what you needed.”

“Who are you?”

“Why, I don’t think we need to divulge anything just yet,” said the voice again, “All you need to know is that you are alive. You’ve been asleep now for nearly two weeks, but you survived the worst of it all. The only place to go now is up, and while it will take some time before you are fully recovered, you can still recover none the less.”

“Is he dead?” asked the boy upon the bed. He heard the person beside him sigh, as if he were very sad.

“No, I’m afraid not,” it said, and he could detect a sliver of regret there in the voice, “He did not succeed in vanquishing you…but you did not succeed either.”

“Are they…are the people safe?”

“Harry, the world has been thrown into darkness now.”

“I know you, then? How do you know my name?”

“Yes, you know me, but I cannot let you know me now. You are just now beginning to recover, and you cannot yet see me. When you can, then you will know who I am. For now, just call me your friend.”

“Well…” said Harry, and he wanted so badly to ask all of the questions swirling in his mind. However, just as the first was on the tip of his tongue, he felt himself grow dizzy. Sinking further into his pillows, he let out a moan.

“I…I can’t stay…”

“Sleep now,” said the voice of his friend, and he listened to him shortly, “Sleep and dream of the things that once were. We can go over it all when you wake up.”

He gave in to the darkness.

Harry awoke the next morning, his vision still dizzying but a bit clearer. His head, while it still throbbed annoyingly, didn’t feel quite as heavy as it had before. He was able to open his eyes without a problem, and he called out to the good stranger to see if he had fixed his glasses. He didn’t appear for a few moments, and there was no sound in the kitchen. Harry feared that he may have left him alone, and he knew that he was in no condition to take care of himself.

“Hello?” he called out, and winced. Raising his voice made his throat and his head hurt. Slowly, he slumped onto his pillow and waited. Then…and he felt himself relax…he heard the footsteps approach his bedside, and he turned slowly so that his eyes were level with his “ friend’s” knees. He, the friend, held the glasses up to Harry, and then he gently placed them on his face. Suddenly, the world cleared up a bit.

Harry was lying on a bed dressed with white linens. The house that held them was wooden and unpainted, the walls bare but for a few pictures and a mirror or two. It was small too, and he knew that he had never been here before. His memory, while slow right now, knew that this was no place it had ever seen. He drew his eyes up so that he could see his caregiver’s face. It was then that he wanted to scream, to run, to escape.

There, standing in front of him and looking positively miserable, was Severus Snape.

“You…” Harry said, and his head started to spin again. This time, however, it was from both anger and pain mixed together, “You…I can’t believe that…”

“Don’t excite yourself, Potter, you’ll faint,” Snape said, and he bent to lower Harry’s head. Harry, however, had no intention of lying back down.

“You’re a MURDERER!” he shouted, and he thought that the pain in his chest would kill him, “Come back to kill again?!? I…you should be rotting away in an Azkaban cell right now!!! I saw Ron…he hit you with that Stunning spell!”

“Yes, well,” Snape sneered, “Needless to say your friend’s skills with Stunning spells are not very efficient. He was only able to hit my hand and make it go numb. Other than that, I was perfectly capable of getting up.”

“But you hit the ground!” Harry retorted, and he winced in agony as he tried to lift himself up on his arms, “I…I watched as you fell!”

“It’s called acting,” said Snape, and he let out a small chuckle, “something I’ve become very good at. I lay there, waiting to see how the battle would end, a gut instinct telling me that you would fail. I had to stay behind and help you if in the end, if I could.”

“And why did you have to do that?!?” Harry asked, “You killed Dumbledore, you hated me as a student…WHAT DID YOU NEED TO SAVE ME FOR?!?”

“I felt an obligation to someone that I cared deeply about,” Snape replied, and Harry detected a slight twinge of sadness in his voice. His curiosity was growing erratically. However, as his interest in the story grew, so did his anger.

“ And who was that?” Harry spat at him, “My father for saving your life so long ago? Or perhaps it was Dumbledore, the man that you killed in cold blood? Which of them was it, huh? Which of those that you betrayed did you feel obligated to?”

Snape pulled a chair over to where Harry lay. He pushed Harry back down on the pillow so that his head was down. Harry didn’t say so, but he felt much better. Sitting up was too much of an effort.

“First of all, you MUST stop getting overexcited,” Snape said calmly, “ You were hit with a Killing Curse nearly two weeks ago, and your recovery has only just begun. If you get overexerted, you could destroy all that you have achieved, and fall backwards towards how you were a few days ago. After you learn what has happened, you will not want that to happen…we don’t have time for it to. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered, “Now stop stalling, and tell me what is going on.”

“I’ll start by telling you that I did not kill Dumbledore in cold blood,” he said, and Harry wanted to shoot back up in bed. Pain held him back from that pleasure.

“I saw you, Snape,” he said, “You uttered those words with hatred in your eyes.”

“Repulsed by what I was doing, I hated myself,” said Snape, pushing past Harry’ s remark, “He knew that night that after being in the cave with you that he would not have any strength left to fight off a threat. He asked me that, if there was a problem or if something were to happen, then I was to do everything in my power to keep you and the information that the both of you carried safe.”

“So you had to kill him to do that?”

“Dumbledore, then in so much pain, was about to divulge all that he knew,” Snape replied, “He knew then that he wouldn’t last much longer. He begged me, pleaded with me, to end his life. Apart from that, I knew that you would tell everyone that I was a Death Eater. I ran away, returning to the Dark Lord so that I could be safe. Then, feeling guilty for betraying the Order and Dumbledore himself, I fought in the battle the other day for your side. I killed several of the Death Eaters myself, waiting for an opportunity to strike so that it looked like a member of the Order had killed them. Then, the battle drew to a close, and I saw Voldemort take you down. You fell, and I thought for one horrible second that everything we had fought for in the past fell with you. He laughed, and the Death Eaters vanished after that. I stayed behind, until I knew that all was quiet, and then crept over to where you were lying. I wept, knowing that the Wizarding World was doomed. Imagine my surprise when I heard, however faint it was, a breath escape from your body. Another one followed, and you were alive…for now. I scooped you up and carried you here, to this old abandoned Muggle cabin.”

Harry was in shock. He had hated Snape more than anyone since that night on the tower. Now, to discover that he had done it all to save Harry was beyond anything that he could comprehend at the moment. He did the only thing he knew to do…ask another question.

“But was it because of my father that you decided to save me?”

“No, Potter. No…frankly, if it had only been your father that I had known, I probably would have left you lying there. No, it was because of your mother that I decided to save you.”

“My mother?”

“She was the only one who was kind to me at that school. She saw the light in me even when I could not. I pushed her away, causing her to hate me, but that was only because I didn’t want my Slytherin comrades to know the truth.”

“And what was that?”

“That I was in love with a Mudblood.”

“You were… in love with my mum?” Harry asked, positive now that he was going insane.

“She never knew, but yes,” Snape said, “I loved your mother very much. Her kindness and compassion for others was unimaginable. She was a good person, Lily Evans was. And I knew that it was my turn to be a good person and return the favor when I saw her son lying there, ready to die. I had to see if I could help him.”

“But…how did I…” Harry began, and then he had to stop.

His body had begun to ache again. The world was spinning along with his mind, now so full of information and confusion that he thought it would burst. He felt his eyelids flutter, and forced them to open. He had to know what had happened to Hermione and Ron, to all of the people back at Hogwarts…to Ginny. He had to know all about it, and what Snape meant when he said that the world had been thrown into darkness.

“Thank you,” was all that he was able to get out. Snape said something back, but he didn’t comprehend it. Numbed with exhaustion and pain, unconsciousness took him prisoner once again.

As soon as Hermione awoke, she knew that her tormentor had fed again. She felt weak and lightheaded, the headache that she had increased ten-fold. Attempts to get out of the bed were demolished by a throb and a groan. Rolling over on her side, she huffed, and forced up. The world was spinning, and the pain was almost unbearable, but she managed to pull herself to her feet. Hobbling around, her eyes growing accustomed to the darkness, she groped for the door. She found the doorknob, and twisted it. She started backwards. There, standing with a smile on his face and a tray in his hand, was her captor.

“Good morning, Hermione,” he said, “I do hope you had a nice sleep. You were out for quite a while, you know. I presume the shock of discovering that you are becoming a vampire was too much for you to handle.”

She swallowed hard. She had nearly forgotten what had been said to make her faint like that. Now, it all came rushing back, and she felt her stomach lurch. She ignored it, and placed her hand to her head. It hurt so very, very much.

“Still have that awful migraine?” the vampire asked her, and she glared at him.

“I notice that you have not given me your name,” she said coldly, “and it is very hard to talk to you without knowing it.”

“Ah, I thought you might realize that in time,” he chuckled, and he placed the tray down on her bedside table, “My name is Valil, and I am the alpha male of our vampire clan.”

“Valil,” Hermione smirked, “Nasty name.”

“Blame my parents, not me,” he said. She tried to nod, but it pained her too much. Backing up, she sat down on the bed. Valil followed her.

“You really shouldn’t try to operate with that horrible headache,” he stated, “You can’t function properly. Get rid of it.”

“And how did you say you did that again?” Hermione asked, forgetting momentarily what would rid her of this agony.

“Just eat something,” he said, “Or drink, if you like. I even brought you a tray.”

He picked it up off of the table and held it before her. All that she could see was a glass full of red liquid. It was tall and clear, and the smell was…the smell was…magnificent.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyes wild with desire and hunger.

“You don’t know?” Valil asked, “It’s sheep’s blood, poured fresh this morning.”

“I …I want…I want to…NO!” Hermione uttered, her mouth watering but her heart disgusted by the thought of drinking blood.

“Hermione, you mustn’t fight temptation so severely,” Valil hissed, and he brought his mouth close to her ear, “It is what you want, and you must take it.”

“No!” she shouted, and she tried to leap up, but the pain in her head had increased once more. It throbbed now with her every movement. She started to cry, her tears falling down heavily. She didn’t want this, and she didn’t need it. All she wanted was to be back in Ron’s arms, sitting in the Gryffindor common room and sharing a humorous story with him and Harry. It wasn’t fair, what had happened to her. She could feel Valil’s breath upon her neck.

“Drink it, Hermione,” he said, “It will ease your pain and soothe your thoughts.”

He brought the glass close to her. The smell was sensational, so inviting and mouthwatering. Her eyes went wild. Forgetting everything, she lunged forward and drank the glass down. The blood tasted sweet and satisfying, and it slid down her throat magnificently. The world had disappeared as she devoured her meal, now content with what she had become. When the last drop was gone, and the pain in her head had disappeared, she glanced over at Valil.

“That was…so…delicious,” she said, and she felt hunger enter her again. She longed for more. She needed more. Valil smirked. “I will teach you to feed tonight, my love,” he said, and she looked at him sideways.

“My love?” she asked, “No, Valil. I may have a taste for blood, but I could never love someone like you. You are so evil and vile, and you are a vampire too. I could never…”

She thought that the light had changed. In a sudden, sweeping movement, Valil had disappeared. There, sitting before her on the bed, was Ron. She gasped, and moved forward, not thinking about what had really happened. She traced his face, feeling his warm cheeks.

“Could you love me, now?” he asked her, and she was entranced, thinking that her true love really had returned. She brought her lips to his, and the kiss seemed to last forever. She felt happy again, for the first time in weeks. She felt his arms wrap around her. Then, his face changed, and she was kissing Valil. Somehow, however, it felt right. She felt safe in that moment, as if she was with someone like her. He pulled away, and the spell was broken. He was evil once again, a vampire. Somehow, though, she couldn’t resist listening to him. He was a leader in her eyes now, however evil she found him.

“Feeding time, Hermione,” he said, and she stood up, expecting to be led out of the window. Then, realizing that it was morning and that Valil couldn’t go out in daylight, she grew confused.

“Now?” she asked. She saw his teeth elongate, and a hiss came from somewhere deep inside of him. He grabbed her wrist, restraining them down. For some reason, she felt a rush of excitement within her. Knowing that that sweet sense of numbness was about to come again was like a dream come true. She let out a small laugh, and Valil knelt down to whisper something to her.

“A few more feedings, and it will be complete,” he said to her, “However, you become mine tonight…my pupil and my queen. Surrender to your dark side.”

Without a further word or gesture, he sunk his fangs into her throat. She felt part of her humanity slip away as he drank, and she closed her eyes and fell to sleep again.

She awoke shortly afterwards, her hunger there, but without the headache. She had fed earlier, and so there would be no symptoms declaring that she needed immediate feeding again. Still, the thirst for blood was enough to drive her crazy. She felt like an addict without their drugs, wanting something that she couldn’t have at that moment. She hopped out of bed and hustled to the bathroom, rinsing her face off to try and tame her need. Closing her eyes so that the water didn’t get into them, she reached for a towel and then looked at herself in the mirror. She startled herself.

Hermione’s reflection was faint, more like a shadow of a figure than an actual person. She was as pale as a lily, and dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot red, as if she were tired. She looked dead. And then, after a few moments of shock, she came to a conclusion that threw her into sadness.

i>I am dead: dead…or soon to be dead.

She heard the bedroom door open and Valil stepped in.

“Hermione?” he called, and she remained where she was. Though she would have to become a vampire, and though she had kissed him and thought him her master, she refused to give in to his demands. Seeing herself in the mirror had restored her strength. She knew he would be inside in a few moments, that he would find her soon, but for now she was alone. It was enough.

“Hermione?” he called again, and she could hear the malice strung throughout his voice. One second later, he was standing in front of her in the bathroom. He was angry; she could see it in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you answer my call?” he asked, and the blaze in his eyes almost gripped her into another trance. She snapped her eyes to the floor.

“WHY?!?” he uttered, and he gripped her by her throat. Hermione yelped in pain, his fingers enclosed over her freshly opened wound.

“I was busy in the restroom,” she said, trying to loosen his grip, “I’m sorry.”

He dropped her, and she fell in a crumple on the floor. Massaging her neck, she kept her eyes on his shoes.

“We have a banquet to attend tonight,” he hissed at her, and offered his hand. She took it, feeling his icy skin in between her fingers, knowing that she would soon be this cold.

“With your fellow vampire friends?” she asked, and he nodded.

“They are anxious to meet you,” he said, “and we have a large feast prepared. You’ll love it.”

Hermione tried to push the sweet thought of the taste of blood from her mind. It reminded her of what she was becoming.

“When do we leave?” she asked.

“Now.”

The scene was awful. A large mob of vampires had gathered in the hall of Valil’s castle. Hermione, who had never left the sanctity of her bedroom, was amazed at first by the magnificent craftsmanship of the stone. Then, turning to where the mob was gathered, she gasped in horror. They had tied a being to the side of a pillar and were standing and jeering at him, throwing tomatoes and bananas at his face. She knew that he was the grand feast, and she felt her stomach drop. It was Hagrid.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Valil bellowed, and the crowd died down. Hermione kept her eyes on Hagrid, focusing on those black beetle eyes. He couldn’t see her; he didn’t even know that she was alive. She knew she had to do something.

“Tonight, I have brought a very special guest with me,” Valil continued, and Hermione felt a horrible foreboding wash over her, “It is she who will get the first bite upon this giant’s throat. Welcome Hermione Granger, soon to be the newest member of our clan!”

She watched the heads turn to face her. Hagrid lifted his head up, searching the crowd. Many parted so that she could walk up to him. Sick to her stomach, she kept her eyes on her friend’s face. She glided towards him, and Valil used his magic to lift her up in the air so that her face was level with Hagrid’s. She turned around.

“Please, Valil!” she pleaded, “Please don’t make me do this! He is my friend!” “NOW, HERMIONE!” he bellowed, a growl escaping him. She turned back to Hagrid, tears streaming down her face.

“Hermione!” Hagrid said softly, and he was crying too. She reached her hand up to wipe his tears away.

“Hey, Hagrid,” she said, “Are you okay?”

“Yer alive,” he muttered, “They told me you was dead! Thought you’d git the best of ‘em!”

“I’m going to save you, Hagrid,” she said, “I’m going to get you out of this.”

“T’ain’t nuffin ‘at can save me, Hermione,” he told her, “Harry’s dead, and the world’s over. Might as well die at the ‘ands of vampires anyway. They transformed you, ay?”

“No, I’m still mortal for now,” she said, “Listen to me! I’m going to pretend to suck your blood, okay? Pretend to die completely. They’ll think I’ve sucked you dry after I perform this spell. I read about it in Quintessence: A Quest.”

“You ain’t got no wand, ‘Ermione!” Hagrid said to her. She grinned.

“Why do you think I took that summer class on nonverbal spells without wands?” she asked, and she wiped her tears. Then, moving forward, she brought herself close to Hagrid’s throat.

“Sleep well, Hagrid,” she whispered in his ear, and she bit him very lightly. He dropped off to sleep, and she uttered the spell.

He was dry. Later, after the gathering was over and Valil was asleep, she would sneak out and wake him up. He would be able to escape then. Slowly, she turned to the ground.

“The giant was beaten far too much,” she said, “I was too thirsty, and I drank the rest of the blood in his body.”

Numerous boos came at her from the crowd. Up against the wall, she could see Valil, smirking. She knew he thought that she had killed Hagrid. Crying secret tears of joy, she left the room, licking her lips to savor the small amount of blood left on her lips from where she had bitten her friend. Though she had saved him, she felt self-hatred enter into her being. She knew now, as she yearned for more blood, that she was indeed becoming a vampire. No one could save her from that.

Birds were chirping outside when Harry awoke. There was a draft in the room, and he knew that a window was open somewhere in the house. Snape had removed his glasses while he slept, and he leaned over to retrieve them from the nightstand. He was able to sit up without a problem today, his chest throbbing only once or twice. Snape was nowhere to be seen, but he didn’t worry. He knew that he was in the kitchen or asleep himself, and he was okay with waiting. In the meantime, he was lost in thought.

What had happened to everyone after the battle? He knew that Hermione had fallen, and wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. A Dementor had scooped her up, and he didn’t have any idea where it could’ve taken her. Ron, he remembered, had been battling Snape, and may have been the one to call for retreat. It was that, or that he had been…Harry shuddered and pushed the thought from his mind. Lupin was dead, he knew, and Kingsley Shacklebolt had lost his soul in the struggle. He hadn’t even seen Neville, and he hoped that he was okay. Then, his real worry came. What had become of Ginny?

“SNAPE!” he called, desperate to receive information. He heard a slight curse and something about a brat, but he ignored it. Snape came out of a bedroom, his black robe pulled around him.

“What is it, Potter?” he snarled, angry with Harry for awakening him.

“I do apologize, sir,” he said, and he meant it, “but I need information. I have to know what happened to all of them.”

“To who?”

“My friends. What has happened to them?”

Snape’s face grew sullen. A grave look crossed his visage, and Harry’s heart began to beat quickly. He tried to calm himself down so that he wouldn’t pass out again. Then, Snape sat down in the chair at the end of Harry’s bed.

“Do you recall me telling you that the world has been thrown into darkness?” Snape asked, and Harry nodded.

“Well, your friends are now at the mercy of Lord Voldemort,” he continued.

“Er…what does that mean, sir?”

“Ron had been made a Death Eater by force,” Snape said, and Harry bit his lip, “He was told that if he didn’t join them, his family would be killed.”

“Is he alright, sir?” Harry asked in earnest.

“For now, I do believe he is. I haven’t been able to gather much information about him. I too am in hiding. I do know, however, that he has been marked and is officially one of them.”

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“She was taken away from the battle by the Dementors.”

‘I remember that part.”

“They delivered her to the vampires as payment for their service to the Dark Lord. They have secretly served him for the past 15 years. She is in the hands of Valil now, and I do not believe that she is as safe as Mr. Weasley.”

“Valil?” Harry uttered.

“He is the leader of the vampires. He is trying to transform her into his queen. She may not have much mortality left. If she has been bitten, she will become a vampire by the next full moon.”

“And when is that?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Two weeks.”

“I have to save her!” Harry cried, but Snape silenced him.

“Yes, that is what I am going to try to allow you to do,” he said, “But Harry, others need your help as well. Those who escaped the battle and those left behind at Hogwarts have been taken prisoner. They are now locked in cells in Azkaban.”

“So Ginny is there?” Harry asked, his heart skipping a beat. Snape looked up at him.

“No, Potter,” Snape said, and his dropped a bit, “No, I’m afraid she has been taken elsewhere. Mrs. Weasley and the others are there. The Malfoys took Ginny from Hogwarts and made her their servant. They sucked the free will from her body. She is a slave to their every word. Any order they give her, she must follow. For now, however, she is safe. Draco finds her attractive and useful. For that, he keeps her alive.”

“NO!” Harry called out, and sank deeply into his pillows. He couldn’t believe that any of this had happened. Voldemort had triumphed and the world had turned dark. He didn’t know what to do.

“Voldemort believes that he conquered you, and so he thinks he has ultimately won. Don’t you see, Potter? You have to heal,” Snape told him, “You don’t have long, but you must heal and make this world right again.”

“But I’m so weak,” Harry replied, “I can’t possibly heal in the time that we’ve been given. Hermione is going to become a vampire within two weeks. Ron has to follow Voldemort’s orders. Ginny can’t be tortured that long, she’ll go mad! What…how is this…HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SAVE ANY OF THEM? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I AM ALIVE!”

“You are alive because of Ginny,” Snape told him, “Her love for you is what is keeping you alive right now. I come in to heal and rehabilitate you. Ginny keeps your strength up. As long as she keeps loving you, you have strength.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked. Snape smirked at him.

“Wisdom that Dumbledore taught me,” he said, “He told me that the love that your mother had for you saved you that night when you were a baby. It helped again in the chamber when Quirrell tried to murder you. Harry, have you not learned anything? Love is the greatest power anyone can ever possess. It holds all the answers.”

“So…if Ginny can hold on to my memory…” Harry exclaimed, “…then I stay alive?”

“You retain the strength that can help you survive,” said Snape, “When you were hit with that Killing Curse, Ginny was thinking about you. The magic that binds your love acted like a shield, and you escaped with your life. Now, your strength is fed by that love.”

“Okay,” Harry said, still a bit confused, “Can it make me heal any faster?”

“That’s my job,” Snape said to him, “Potions, herbs, and exercise will help you get back up on your feet. After that, you’ll be able to go on and save Hermione, Ron and Ginny. Then, you can defeat the Dark Lord.”

“Let’s get started then,” Harry exclaimed, “We don’t have a whole lot of time, do we?”

As Snape had said, it wasn’t a walk in the park. The Killing Curse, while unable to take Harry’s life, had severely injured his body. At times, he would become lightheaded because of sitting up, and he would have to lay back and rest for a few moments before he got up again. In the few instances in which he was able to get out of bed, he would easily grow short of breath, and have to sit back down. However, with increased amounts of healing potions and a few bowls of herbal soups, Harry began to gain back his health.

Five days after Snape had told Harry about the fate of his friends, Harry was awakened early in the morning. Snape was standing over his bed, wand in hand, and Harry started up. He thought that this was the end, that Snape was going to kill him, that this had all been a lie so that he could catch Harry off guard. Then, the professor stretched out his hand.

“Er…what are we doing?” Harry asked, confused.

“We’re walking, Potter,” Snape told him, and Harry could hear the impatience in his voice, “If you intend to be out and saving your friends with the week, then you best begin to walk again.”

“Right,” Harry replied, and his legs suddenly felt like lead, “Okay, this should be easy.”

He rose out of bed and braced himself against the headboard. He knew that he wasn’t ready for this. Even as his strength returned, he still hadn’t been able to move two feet away from his bed. Slowly, he placed his right foot down in front of his left. Then, releasing his grip on the bed, he moved his left in front of the right. His knees buckled underneath him, and he clashed down onto the floor.

Snape gave a wave of his wand, and Harry was raised to his feet again. Catching his breath from the fall, he looked up at Snape.

“How am I supposed to do this?” he asked him, “I haven’t moved in weeks! Am I supposed to just hop up and walk?”

“Think, Potter, think!” Snape uttered, “What are you walking for? You have to envision the reason that you are trying to get better for! Now, do it!”

Harry shook his head in aggravation. What exactly was Snape playing at? This was impossible. Then, deciding that he had nothing to lose from taking his advice, he looked at the wall far away from him.

There they were, standing and waving at him, silently cheering him on. Ron was there, smiling at him. Hermione had tears of happiness in her eyes, happy that he was alive. And then there was Ginny, looking absolutely beautiful and exquisite. He was drawn to them all, anxious to reach them. Slowly, he stepped one foot forward, and then the other. He began to feel himself move toward them, and from a great distance it seemed, Snape laughed triumphantly. Then, he began to clap his hands, and his friends disappeared. He was standing in the middle of the room, far away from his bed.

“Well done, Potter,” Snape jeered, “Well done!”

“I can do this, Professor,” Harry said, “I’m ready now. I’ve got to save them!”

“Not yet, Harry,” Snape told him, “You’ve just started to be able to walk again. You aren’t going to go out in this shape and be able to come back alive. Perhaps with a few more…”

“NO!” Harry shouted, “Don’t you get it? I have to go. Hermione is about to be transformed into a vampire. Ron is off murdering others for a man that he doesn’t believe in! And Ginny…I can’t sit around knowing that she is suffering! I am leaving today!”

‘Potter,” Snape said calmly, “Soon, you’ll leave this place and be able to fight all of the evil that has come out of that battle in the woods. For now, you are able to walk to that wall. In a few days, you’ll be up and about, able to go long distances without a problem. It will be on that day that I will let you leave this house and persue the journey ahead of you. Trust me, my boy. I can get you through this. You just have to trust me.”

With a sigh and a moan, Harry gave in. He limped over to his bed and sat down, feeling as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He could almost see Ginny in the Malfoy’s home, her eyes tired from the hard day’s work, her hands and knees aching from overuse. He saw Hermione, her teeth now elongated into fangs, thirsting for blood. Ron was in his vision too, his left arm charred from the Dark Mark, holding a wand to an innocent man’s face and tears falling from his own as he uttered the words of death.

“Everyday now, Snape,” Harry said, “We work everyday. I’m saving them soon.”

The sky was a black as a raven’s wing, and there wasn't a scar to be seen. Clouds bubbled as if in a cauldron, and the wind blew through the trees as if to pull them from the ground. A single raindrop hit the window of where Hermione Granger slept. She opened her eyes as her sensitive ears picked up the small sound. Stretching her arms, she looked mechanically at the clock by her bed. There was no need to look anymore…time would soon be of no value to her. Once you were immortal, the hours of the day meant little. Still, it was the small amount of human left in her that made her look.

8 :00 p.m.

3 more hours, she thought to herself Three more hours to be me.

Tonight, her transformation would be complete. Valil would have the final pint of her blood within a matter of seconds, and the full midnight moon would absorb the rest of her humanity. Not that it would matter much…to Hermione, she was already a monster. She felt no compassion for anything anymore…not a warm day, nor thunderstorms. Thoughts of Ron had all but vanished, and the only memory she had of Harry now was one in which he lay dead in the middle of a field, with nothing but a broken wand in his hand. In the past couple of weeks, she had killed lambs and rabbits as means of sustaining her thirst, but she knew that soon she would want human blood. The vampires went to Azkaban for that. Even the thought of feeding on one of her friends didn’t bother her anymore. She knew that she had turned evil.

A knock on her door pulled her away from her morbid thoughts. She turned away from the doorway, and Valil let himself in. She could smell the hunger within him, and knew that he was desperately looking forward to the feeding later on that night.

"Hello, my pet," Valil hissed, and she felt his hands tangle her hair in the back. She whipped around to face him.

"Hello, Valil," she mumbled, her voice as dead as a corpse.

"Did you have a nice sleep ?"

"I did, thank you. A little nap was exactly what I needed."

"I’m glad you’re feeling better. Everything needs to be perfect for tonight."

She watched as he sniffed the side of her neck.

"It’s best you keep your distance, Valil, » she warned him, « Unless you want to kill me, you must wait until midnight. That’s the only time you can turn me into a vampire, remember ?"

"Yes, and it wasn’t that at all," he replied, coaxing her cheek with his cold hand, "I was simply saying hello to my queen."

"I am not your queen yet," she retorted, and she spat in his horrible face. She tried to turn away, but he held her arms down on the bed. His nails dug into her skin, but she did not bleed. There wasn’t enough blood left in her for that.

"Face it, Hermione," he said, "You are mine now. There is no way out. Tonight, all of your memories of being a human, all of the good left in your body will evaporate into the moonlight. It’s best that you start loving me now…right now ."

She felt his icy lips lock with hers, and she tried to pull away. Something, however, stopped her. She could taste him on her tongue…the taste of desire…and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to continue kissing him. Her mind was washed clean, there was nothing stopping her from loving this creature before her. Her heart was pounding in her ears as his hands swept through her hair. She was evil, she was his, and she resolved herself to all of it at that moment.

When she felt him leave her, she wanted to pull him back to her.

"Don’t go," she whispered to him, and she heard his horrible, beautiful laugh.

"Soon, you won’t be able to be rid of me," Valil said, and he caressed her cheek once more. She laughed involuntarily, her mind no longer her own. Her heart had turned to stone with the kiss, and her thoughts were now Valil’s. Where a few moments ago, she could only think of the monster she had become, she now embraced her fate. She felt him get up from the bed, and heard the sound of the door close.

Two and a half hours to go.

The anticipation was enough to kill her.

The castle was brilliantly lit up with candles. Left and right, vampires stood conversing with one another, discussing the latest triumph of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They had invaded a Muggle town somewhere close by, seemingly full of happy families unaware to of the terror soon to come. The group had marched in, murdering people left and right. Among the victims were the adoptive family of Harry Potter, the Dursleys. They drank to their leader, their glasses full of the blood of various beings.

One of the vampires, a male by the name of Cambral, stood against the wall, locked in conversation with a dark stranger that no one in the castle had ever met before. He was cloaked in a long, black robe, his face hidden by a large hood. At first, it seemed that Valil had invited a dementor to the event. However, the figure spoke, and it was concluded that he was indeed either a vampire himself or a follower of Lord Voldemort.

"Exciting, this evening, isn’t it ?" Cambral asked the stranger.

"Indeed. A fine party, » he replied, « What did you say the occasion was, again ?"

"Why, my friend, Valil creates his queen tonight, » Cambral replied, « Up on that pedestal there, he will take the final traces of her blood, and she will be one of us."

"Ah, yes. A night of celebration, it is. Who is the girl ?"

"Some Mudblood that the dementors capture in the Final Victory," Cambral replied, "She was one of Harry Potter’s friends. Were you there, in the battle ?"

The stranger did not seem to hear him. His eyes were focused, unmoving, up on that pedestal. Cambral continued to jabber on about the war that had been won, all of his words unheard.

"Just think…after all of these years, the world is ours," Cambral exclaimed, "Isn’t it…"

The vampire stared at the empty space in front of him. The stranger, there before had somehow vanished. There was no loud crack, nor a swish of a cloak…he was just gone. Cambral whipped his head from left to right. Nothing. Shrugging his shoulders and concluding that he had left, Cambral moved into the crowd to gossip with the rest of the creatures there.

The dark stranger had not left. He had escaped to a room, high above the crowd, in a tower where a young girl slept. He watched her breathing…her chest hardly rose at all. She was pale and he knew that if he were to touch her arm, her skin would be as cold as ice. Gingerly, he walked across the room and, as gently as possible, shook her awake.

"Ummm…" she mumbled, and swatted at his hood. He backed away quickly so as not to get slapped in the face. Then, he pushed her one more time.

"Not yet, Valil," she uttered, and she shot up in bed. She nearly let out a scream, but the dark stranger put his finger up to where his mouth would be.

"I’m not a dementor," the stranger said, "It’s okay. I’m here to help you."

"I’m beyond help," Hermione told him, "Why don’t you just leave, sir ? I have something to do in a few minutes."

"Yes, you do, » the man said to her, "You’ve got to escape with me."

He pulled out his wand, mumbling words under his breath, until Hermione felt her eyes grow heavy. Soon, she was asleep again. Whipping out a small sock from his pocket, he whispered, " Portus ," and placed the girl’s hand upon the seam. She was gone within a few seconds.

A minute later, Valil entered the room to collect his queen. He was met with a stake, shot directly through his heart. The stranger stood over him as the vampire slowly expired. He heard his last words.
" You. "

Hermione found herself in a field, with no recollection of how she got there or any idea of where she was. All she knew was that within ten minutes, a loud pop resounded through the air. Before her was the stranger she had met before, his billowing cloak flowing in the wind.

"Good," she heard him say, "You’re safe."

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are ?" she shrieked, "I had resolved myself to that fate. I’m almost a vampire, you idiot ! I’ll drink your blood before you can tell me to stop !"

"That can be fixed," he said, "Just give it some time. First, we have to get away from here. The Portkey couldn’t bring us very far. We have a walk ahead of us, and we need to begin as soon as possible. You aren’t the only one who needs to be rescued, you know ?"

"I’m not going anywhere with you !" she said, "I’ve already been captured before, and I’m not going through it again. Where are you going to take me this time ? Are you a Death Eater, huh ? Going to enslave me like you enslaved my friends?"

"I don’t intend on enslaving anyone. And I’m most definitely not a Death Eater, Hermione. Calm down."

"Don’t tell me to…" she said, and then she froze. He knew who she was. This person was someone she knew.

"How do you know my name ?"

The stranger laughed and shook his head beneath the hood. Then, extending his hand, he offered to help her from the ground. She looked down at it, and then back up at him. Sighing, the stranger reached up and pushed his hood back.

Hermione’s heart jumped up into her throat. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. Grasping the hand that was offered her. She threw herself into the arms of her rescuer.

"It’s…I…how are you… "

"Some things can’t be explained that quickly, » Harry told her, « I can tell you on the way."

"You’re alive, Harry," she exclaimed, and moved in to hug him again. Suddenly, a waft of air brought the scent of his blood to her nostrils. Instantly, she let go, and she heard the laugh that she believed she would never hear again.

"Can we move on before I become your next meal ?" Harry asked.

"You find the fact that I want to drink your blood funny ?" Hermione said, but she couldn’t help but smile. Her best friend, one that she felt certain she would never see again, was alive and talking to her in that moment. She was out of Valil’s grasp.

"Not at all funny. But that will resolve itself within a few days. Snape packed me some potions to give to you that will restore you to your former glory."

"Snape ?"

"Hermione, we’ve got to go now. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. I’ll explain it all to you on the way."

Nodding, she followed him up the hill, keeping her distance so as not to be attracted by the scent of his blood. She didn’t take her eyes off of him, and listened to what he was saying to her. In being with him, it was as if there was no evil left in the world, and for a moment, the peril that lie ahead of them seemed to evaporate away. Harry Potter was alive.

Ginny twisted and turned in her bed, trying desperately to hold onto the memory of something. She could see the shape of a human, there in her thoughts. He was reaching out to her in someway, his hand close to her face. But she couldn’t remember what that hand felt like. She couldn’t remember the smell of his hair or the color of it. His eyes were green, she thought. Or were they blue ? She couldn’t remember ! She knew the name. Harry. And she knew that she loved him. But she also knew that she couldn’t hold onto it forever. The memories were fading, slowly but surely, and soon there would be nothing left. She cursed the Malfoys and Bellatrix Lestrange as she began to fall into a restless sleep. She knew that in the morning, even more of what she had now would slip away.

“How are you alive, exactly?” Hermione pressed.

The two of them had been walking for nearly three hours, and the only thing that Harry had talked about was the potion that would bring back her mortality. She was beginning to get bored, and wanted to know exactly what had happened to her best friend.

“Harry,” she continued when he didn’t say anything, “tell me. What’s so bad about it ?”

“Nothing’s bad about it at all,” Harry said, “I mean, I’m alive…what could be bad about that?”

“Exactly!” Hermione said, “So why are you avoiding the subject?”

“I’m not avoiding it,” Harry replied, “It’s just that…well, I’m not completely sure if I understand it. See, Snape said…”

“Ok, start there. What’s all of this about Snape ?”

“He saved me,” Harry said,“He plucked me from the battle when he realized that I was still breathing. He took me to this little Muggle Cabin and fixed me up. That’s why it took so long to get to you. I wasn’t completely healed yet.”

“Harry,” Hermione said,“he killed Dumbledore!”

“Not out of cold blood,” Harry replied,“He told me that is was something that had to be done.”

“Wait…why did…” she began, but then shook her head, “Never mind. How on Earth did you survive that Killing Curse ? I mean,Valil said it hit you squarely in the chest. People don’t just bounce back after that, you know.”

Harry told her about the connection between him and Ginny, and how her love for him had kept him alive. Hermione listened intently, her sharp mind taking in every detail so that later, if need be, she could use that knowledge for their benefit.

“Snape says that her love feeds my strength,” Harry finished,“He told me that as long as she continues to hold onto her feelings for me, then I’ll be alright.”

“Wow,” Hermione replied,“Love really is the strongest magic there is.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling, “I guess it is.”

They were silent for a moment. Across the small field that they were crossing, the only thing that could be heard was the crunch of their feet on the grass. Both were contemplating what had been said, each lost in thoughts of their own love. They were out there, just waiting to be rescued, with no idea that Harry or Hermione were alive.

“Harry, I have a confession to make,” Hermione said finally. Harry looked up at her inquisitively, a thoughtful smile across his face.

“Yes ?”

“Before Ron and I started going out,” Hermione said, “I think…I think that I…”

“Yes?” Harry repeated, now curious and nervous at the same time.

“ I think that I may have loved you both,” she said, taking a deep breath, “Each time I was with you, I felt so happy and free, almost as if I could fly. And then, I would see Ron with another girl, and I would get so jealous. My heart, I think, was trying to decide which way to go. I wanted you to know that…that even though my heart belongs to Ron, a piece of it is yours as well. It always has been. It always will be.”

Harry stopped for a moment and looked at her, completely unaware of what to say. There she was, standing there, telling him that part of her was in love with him, and he didn’t know what to do. He just stared at her, frozen on the spot, hoping that his mind would come to life and make him do something. Then, he felt his legs move forward. He put his arm on her shoulder and then kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Part of me has always loved you too, Hermione,” he said, “I just…I don’t…”

“It’s okay, Harry,” she said, “We can stop there. I mean, after all, I did choose Ron. It’s him that I’m in love with. And I know that your heart is set on Ginny. I just wanted you to know that. When I was trapped in that Hell back there, thinking that you were dead, I felt so horrible because I knew that you would never know. Now, you do. I hope that nothing happens to any of us. But, in case it does…at least you know now, right?”

“Right,” Harry said, “That’s…that’s good.”

There was an awkward silence between the two for the next half-hour. Their feet shuffled along, going up the large hill in front of them and then back down. Harry looked set and determined on finding something tonight. Hermione kept praying and hoping that Ron was okay. She didn’t even want to picture Ginny in her predicament. It was too painful. She kept her mind on her boyfriend. It would stop her from focusing on the headache that was growing in her right temple.

It wasn’t until they reached the middle of the small wood that they were crossing when Harry bent over. He placed his hands on his knees, as if he were extremely exhausted, and looked up into the sky. Hermione moved around to face him.

“Harry?” she said, her brow furrowed with worry, “Is everything alright?”

Harry nodded his head, but he put his hand up to silence her. He blinked his eyes several times and shook his head once or twice. He let out a small moan, as if he were in pain. Then, he slowly arched his back and stood back up.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Hermione asked.

“I honestly have no idea,” Harry replied, wiping a small amount of sweat from his face, “I was just fine, and then all of a sudden, I got really dizzy. I could almost feel the Killing Curse hitting me again. That was so…so weird.”

“Well, maybe you’re just tired,” Hermione said, “I mean, we have been walking for a long time, and you haven’t moved that much in a couple of weeks. Maybe we should…”

“No,” Harry said, “No breaks. It’s only dusk. We can make it to that camp before the sun completely sets.”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked, “Do you possess the “Sight ” now, too?”

“No, Snape told me,” he replied, and she backed off. She’d forgotten that the former Potions Master had helped her friend. Nodding, she continued to follow him deeper and deeper into the wood.

Harry had changed, Hermione noticed. When he had last looked into her eyes, she noticed a light in his eyes that had never been there before. Perhaps it was just because she hadn’t seen him in so long, but she could tell that something was different. She didn’t feel as though she were walking with her seventeen-year-old boy anymore, but rather a true and powerful wizard. She also noticed, however, a new emptiness within him. The darkness that had fallen over their world was weighing down on his shoulders, and she knew that he knew it. She also knew that, just as he had always done, he was blaming everything that had happened to all of them on himself. She wanted to put her hand out and touch his shoulder, to tell him that none of this could have been prevented, but instead she continued walking behind him. Her head, however, was now pounding ruthlessly.

“Harry, I have a headache,” she told him, and he turned around quickly.

“What does that mean?” he asked her anxiously. She stopped and leaned up against the nearest tree, massaging her eye sockets to numb the pain.

“It means that I’m hungry,” she said, and his eyes grew anxious.

“We…we have bread in my backpack.”

“You know what I mean.”

Harry shook his head, unable to think of what to do. The potion wouldn’t take full effect for another three days. He didn’t know if she would be able to last that long. He looked to her for advice on what to do.

“Do you think you could…” he began, but she was already off in the woods, hissing at something below him that he couldn’t see. She pounced on it like an animal, and he heard her sink her teeth into whatever it was. She came back up, a rabbit in her hand. Blood was dripping down her chin. Tears were falling down her cheeks.

“I’m still a monster,” she said, “I still have to kill to stay satistfied.”

“You’re not a monster, Hermione,” Harry said to her, “The potion just hasn’t kicked in yet. You have to have something in you, or else you crash. In this final case, it was blood. It won’t happen again, that I can promise.”

“Three days, right?”

“Three days.”

“Okay. I just needed something for the long journey ahead. I couldn’t keep going.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, “I understand completely. And the journey isn’t much longer. At the end of this wood, there’s another hill. The Death Eaters are camped right at the foot of it.”

“Well, that’s good. Not much longer to walk then, right?”

“Right.”

“Just one question,” she requested of him.

“Yes?”

“What are they doing camping out?” she asked, “I mean, they’ve already defeated the Order. Their mission is complete. Why do they need to march across the land staying in tents together when they have everything and can go home?”

“That’s just it,” Harry said, “Snape said that they don’t have everything that they want. They haven’t overtaken the entire Muggle world yet. They camp out near an individual town, waiting for the right moment to strike. Then, they destroy that town and go out to celebrate in the local pub. After that, they go home for a couple of days, and then go out to do it all again.”

“Talk about a vicious cycle,” Hermione said, and Harry had to nod.

“You could call it that,” he replied, “But that’s going to end tonight. We’re not just saving Ron tonight, Hermione. We’re taking out that entire camp.”

“Well that sounds…WHAT?” Hermione asked, her mouth opening in disbelief.

“You heard me.”

“Harry, did that Killing Curse fry your brain or something?” Hermione asked, “We can’t take that entire camp, they’ll kill all three of us. There has to be atleast one hundred or more Death Eaters serving Voldemort right now. You can’t fight them all at once, you’ll DIE!”

“Did Valil fry your brain?” Harry retorted, “The Death Eaters don’t travel all together, Hermione. There’s twenty or thirty of them in the camp at a time.”

“Oh…my mistake!” Hermione said, “Three against thirty. That has much better odds! Now, maybe there can be a 1 in 10 chance that we ALL survive. Ooo…sign me up!”

“Shut up,” Harry said quietly.

“No! I’m not going to shut up! Not until…”

“No, really Hermione,” Harry said, “We both need to shut up.”

Their argument had carried them to the end of the forest. They were standing at one end of the hill, gazing up above themat the starry sky. Their was an odd orange glow coming from the other side, and the two knew that it was a fire. They had reached their destination. Quietly,. Harry and Hermione snuck up the side of the hill, reaching the top without so much as a « shhh » between them. Each had more important things on their mind than who was being the quietest. They looked down into the camp, crouching so that their shadows would not cast down on the tents. Slowly, Harry motioned for Hermione to crawl with him down the left hand side of the hill. She obeyed, and the two were sliding on her hands and bellies, going down like snakes to where their friend’s tent was. Harry slipped his head inside…and let out a silent groan.

Ron was asleep, his head leaning on the post behind him. His hands were bound with a tight rope, and his feet jutted out at odd angles. To the left slept Macnair, his large axe held in his hand like a large teddy bear. Hermione moved to free Ron, but Harry put his hand out to stop her. Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand. Moving in, he walked over and pointed it at Macnair’s face. Then, after a final breath and a twitch of the shoulder, Harry closed his eyes and whispered the words that had frightened him for so long.

“ Avada Kedavra.”

Ron awoke with a start as he heard the small shriek of a girl resound through his tent. Gazing around in the darkness, he spotted nothing. The shadows, he knew, were hiding something from him though. He could sense it.

“Macnair,” Ron whispered to his captor. There was no answer to be heard. Twisting around, his hands blistering from the rough rope, he tried to free his wrists. It was no use. Suddenly, he heard a small whisper. It was too quiet to make out words, but still he knew that something had been said. Then, his hands fell free of the binds. He moved them in front of him, rubbing the raw spots. There was no rope left there to feel. It had disappeared.

“Who’s there?” Ron asked, reaching out to find a body of some kind. He felt a finger smack into his lip. Putting his arms up as if in surrender, he could now make out a small profile of the person standing in front of him. It was a young woman, smaller than he was but not by much. Her hair stuck out in a bush around her face.

“Not another word, Ron,” she said sternly, but there was kindness in her tone. Ron thought that perhaps he had heard that voice before, but he couldn’t quite remember where at the moment. He was curious to know how the girl knew his name, and if she was indeed a Death Eater herself, tired of Voldemort and ready to switch sides like he was.

“Who are you?” he asked, but the girl shook her head.

“Not right now,” she said, and he could hear anxiety in her voice, “Save the questions for when we’re safe. We’ve got to get out of this tent. You’ll need your wand.”

“I won’t be getting that any time soon,” Ron whispered, “Macnair has it, and he won’t give it up without a fight.”

“Macnair is dead,” said another voice from the darkness. Ron could hear the remorse there. He could only guess that this was the Death Eater’s murderer.

“Dead?” he said, “What do you mean, dead?”

“He’s not waking up anymore,” the girl told him, “You’re free to leave the tent.”

“The rest of the camp will hunt me down,” Ron told her, “They won’t be far behind us.”

“There isn’t going to be a camp within a few minutes,” said the other voice. It belonged to a boy now, Ron realized.

“You mean we’re going to…”

“It’s the only way.”

Ron contemplated this for a minute. He had been forced to kill before. Each time, his heart had been wrenched in half, his spirit slowly dying as the curse sucked the life of another human being. Now, to watch those who had tormented him die in such a way, from his own hands, was something he almost felt good about. Yet, at the same time, he was stooping to their level. Yes, they were evil…but did he want their blood on his hands? He wasn’t a murderer…that wasn’t what he had wanted to be.

“I know that this seems terrible,” the boy told him, “Believe me, I understand. But they won’t stop looking. They only make this world worse. With them all still alive, then Voldemort still has a stronger army than the rest of us. We need to rebuild. If we have the opportunity to weaken him, then we have to take it.”

There was a rustle that came from the outside of the tent. Footsteps were coming from somewhere outside. The girl grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled him around the post that he had been tied to. He knew that somewhere he had felt that hand before. He saw the faint outline of the boy move to the front of the tent. He could see that his wansd was raised. A hand slid through the slit. In it, there was a lighted wand, it’s beam of light shining on the rescuer’s face. Ron nearly fell to the ground in disbelief. There, standing before him as if he were back from the dead, was Harry Potter. His best friend looked at him and gave a small smile. Then, moving forward, he whispered “Avada Kedavra,” to his wand. The Death Eater that had been standing before them fell with a thud to the ground. Ron heard Harry take a deep breath, and then wander over to him.

“You’re alive,” he uttered, unable to believe it, “You’re…how did…”

“All explained in due course, mate,” Harry whispered, “We’ve got work to do right now.”

“Yes, Ron,” the girl said, and he felt her face close to his. Then, without warning, she kissed him. And suddenly, Ron knew who was in front of him. He knew, because those lips only belonged to one person. He tasted her on his tongue, breathed in her scent, and clutched her hair in his hands.

“Hermione,” he said. She put her finger to his mouth again.

“Later,” she said, “Let’s do this, and I promise that afterward, we’ll have all the time in the world to catch up.”

“I’m not a murderer,” Ron said.

“I’m not either, Ron,” Harry said, “I am simply an Auror. Now…take your wand from Hermione and let’s go. Our work tonight is for the Order of Phoenix.”

Ron knew from the sadness in his voice that Harry didn’t want to have to kill anyone. But he also knew that his friend always did the right thing, and that somehow he was right in this circumstance. Without another moment of hesitation, Ron took his wand from Hermione’s hand. Then, the reunited trio opened the door to the tent and stepped into the Death Eater’s camp.

It was all over within ten minutes. The three split up, all in eye shot of each other, entering different tents and whispering a Killing Curse so as not to awaken anyone. There were only 29 Death Eaters in the camp. None knew what hit them as they slept in their cots. Harry checked each tent twice, making sure that none of the spells had missed their mark. Then, he whistled to Ron and Hermione. As they had done for the past six years, they came running to him, ready for what came next.

“Over that hill is a forest,” Harry said, “There’s a path that should take us north into the mountains. Malfoy’s house, according to Snape, is at the base of the highest one. I figure that, within three days, we should be able to get there.”

“Well,” Ron said, “After that cake walk back there, I’d say that I’m ready for anything.”

“That was way too easy,” Hermione said, “It doesn’t seem right that there wasn’t a struggle. Would you stop looking at me like that, Ron?”

For Ron had just given her the most questioning look of his life.

“What I mean is, I don’t think we should let our guard down just yet,” she continued.

“Right you are, Ms. Granger,” said a voice behind them. Whipping around, the three spotted a figure coming down from the hill. The long blonde hair was tied back into a greasy ponytail. The dark cloak closed over him a veil of evil. Lucius Malfoy stood before them, a smirk plastered on his face. His wand was pointing directly at Harry.

“It’s amazing what can happen to you if you volunteer to go gather firewood,” he told them, “Not being able to use a Summoning Charm can be a pain, or a life saver. I might start doing manual labor more often.”

“Funny,” Harry said, “don’t you have a servant for that?”

“True,” Malfoy said, and he cackled malificently, “Your little girlfriend is a very diligent worker. She does absolutely everything I tell her to. It’s quite nice, actually. You’re wasting your efforts on saving her. If you were permitted to get to my house, it would already be too late.”

“If you were planning on killing her, you would have done it by now,” Harry retorted, “And you should’ve killed us by now.”

“I’m in no hurry,” replied Lucius, “The Dark Lord wants you alive, Potter. My wand is sluggish at times like these.”

“Well,” Harry replied, “Mine’s not.”

With the speed that neither of his friend’s had ever seen before, Harry’s hand had retrieved his wand from his pocket. Without a single word, a Killing Curse was flying through the air, and it hit Malfoy directly in the chest. They watched as their enemy flew back in the air, twisted there, and then collapsed to the ground. There, he lay motionless, his eyes empty of any light. Hermione and Ron rushed forward to check the body, but Harry stayed back. As Hermione bent low to check a heart beat, his feet went out from underneath him. The world was spinning again, and the land kept fading in and out from his vision. He had begun to sweat uncontrollably, and his stomach churned as if he were about to get sick. He suddenly wanted to lay down and sleep for the rest of eternity, to never wake up. This was a different kind of tired, a tired he had never felt before. It was as if his life force had been sucked from his body.

“HARRY!” Hermione screamed, and she left the dead Malfoy and rushed over to her friend. He was breathing heavily, and he was talking nonsense.

“Let me just…I want to…the ground would be…” he was saying. Ron was by his side too, a worried look on his face.

“Mate, you okay?” Ron asked, but Harry was still speaking nonsense. He had closed his eyes, but was continuing to mumble. Hermione didn’t know what to do. She slowly raised her hand. Then, suddenly, she slapped him straight across the face. Harry shook his head, and slowly began to come back to reality.

“What the hell was that?” Ron asked. Hermione’s face, however, was stricken with worry.

“Wh…what happened?” Harry asked. Hermione got up and began to pace back and forth. There was a small ache growing in her head from hunger again, and she couldn’t handle that right now. She was too focused on what was going on with Harry. First it had been the strange pause walking to the camp. Now, it was this.

Then, it hit her.

“Ginny,” she said.

“What?” Harry asked, his hand on his head. The world was still spinning for him.

“There’s something that is going on with her,” she repeated, “Remember how Snape told you that her love kept you alive?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and he hoped she would stop asking questions. He didn’t know if he could handle any of them.

“Well, that love must be disappating somehow.”

Harry suddenly felt his heart drop into his stomach. Ginny was falling out of love with him? He didn’t want to think about it. If that was true, then everything she had worked for nothing. Sure, he had gotten his best friends back. But without Ginny, his life would be worthless. Suddenly, he leaned over and wretched. Hermione leaped out of the way, and tears were falling from her eyes.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermone said, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean that…she still might…remember! She’s under that spell that the Malfoys cast on her. She has to follow every word that they say!”

“And that means that my strength is slowly disappearing,” he said.

“Which also means that we need to hurry up that hill and through those woods to get to Malfoy’s house,” Ron said. He extended his hand to help his friend up. Still woozy, but now determined, Harry used the assistance of his friends to begin to walk again. They had a long way to go, he knew. He was going to get there if the journey killed him.

Ginny blinked as the light entered her room and washed over her. Whatever dream she had entered was whisked away through the cracked door, and her memory of it was something that she couldn’t hang onto. It had been that way for some time now, she realized. Each time she had a pleasant dream at night, she woke up feeling good, but unable to recall what that dream had been about. She knew it had to be pleasant because waking up was the only time of day she was ever truly happy. The other times, she was either being forced to smile or completely miserable in her duties of caring for the Malfoy family.

It had been a particularly difficult day for Ginny. She had had to cook a complete dinner for her family, and had cleaned the entire manor with her hands and a rag. Her leg, which she had injured when she fell down the stairs that morning, was black and blue. It had given several painful throbs throughout the duration of the day, but she had been ordered to ignore it. Now, as she awakened, it gave another throb, and she winced in pain.

“Hello, my dear,” came the malicious voice that she hated so. Rolling her eyes, she turned around to see Draco Malfoy entering the room. She turned her back on him. He layed his hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn around. Then, he leaned down and kissed her roughly on the lips. She looked at him blankly.

“Who do you love, now, Ginny?” he asked her, and planted another kiss on the base of her neck.

“No one,” she answered, and tried to push him away. He restrained her hands, and she had to give up the fight.

“It’s a shame you never had a real boyfriend,” he sneered in her ear, and he pulled her up into a sitting position. Stroking her legs, he brushed his hand up and down her arm. She felt a shiver roll down her spine.

“I think I did at one time,” she said to him, and he shook his head.

“Believe me, you didn’t,” he told her, “No one ever truly loved you. You were a girl that people looked at, asked out because you were a trophy to have on the arm. No one dared love you. You weren’t something anybody wanted for life.”

Ginny wasn’t listening to him. Instead, she had her eyes focused on the wand in his pocket. Without thinking about her predicament, she locked her lips with his. He laughed in the back of his throat as she worked her hand around his back. In his mind, she was finally giving into him. That, however, wasn’t the case.

Her hand plunged into that pocket and she retrieved the wand. Slowly, she pulled away from him and pointed the tip at his face. Laughing, Malfoy shook his head.

“You can’t do it,” he said, but she raised the wand higher.

“Oh, I won’t, will I?” she asked, “Malfoy, after everything you have done to me, there is nothing I wouldn’t do anymore! You took away my family, torturing them in a harsh prison. My brother is forced to kill innocent people against his will. Me? I’m nothing but a house elf in a human’s body! No, you’re wrong when you say that I won’t do it, because I will!”

“You will not kill me, Ginny,” he said, “Lower the wand and give it back to me. Give it to me now.”

And though she wanted to, though she could have killed him then and there and not felt a bit of remorse for it, she felt a weight come down upon her arm. She stretched out the wand and could only watch as he took it back. Then, with a small chuckle, he raised it up and cried, “ Crucio!”

The girl’s screams echoed through the house, and nobody seemed to care.

Harry collapsed onto the ground of the small forest at the front of the manor. It had been a three days walk that they had taken through the hills and woods to make it here. Hermione had regained her mortality. Her and Ron had told stories to each other, kissing every now and then and holding hands, happy to have one another again. Harry had grinned throughout the trip, but he hadn’t felt the same. His legs had felt like weights, dragging slowly. Often, he had fallen behind his friends, and had had to brace himself against a tree to catch his breath. Every now and then, a brief bout of dizziness had washed over him. Now, however, it felt as if it would never end.

“Harry?” he heard Hermione murmur from behind him. She said something about him having to get up, but he ignored her.

“No,” he replied, “I think I’ll just stay here and rest. I’m just…I’m so tired.”

“No, Harry,” Ron said to him, “We’ve got to keep going, okay, mate? My sister, she needs our help. Remember Ginny ? The love of your life ? She’s only a few yards away, Harry. You’ve almost got her. We’re going to get there tonight. We’re going to save her.”

“What’s the use?” he asked, “She doesn’t love me anymore. Just…just leave me here, Ron. I’m done…I’m through. He’s won, Voldemort has. Through my heart, and not through magic, he broke me.”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “The only reason that you’re still conscious is because of Ginny. She may not remember you, or she may be so sad that her love is dwindling, but deep in her heart, love is still alive. She may not realize that it’s for you, but it is still there. She has to truly love you for her memory of it to be gone but the feeling to still exist. I know that you have to be tired, because the strength is dwindling out of you. But if you truly want to give up, give up when you know that all hope is lost. That moment isn’t now. It’s when you see that there is no light at the tunnel.”

“The light is flickering,” Harry said.

“But it isn’t out yet,” Hermione exclaimed, “You’re the key to making this world right again, Harry. Let’s do it, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “What she said.”

Hermione extended her hand to help her friend up. With great effort, Harry lifted his arm and took it. Swaying as he stood up, he felt Ron’s shoulder under his right elbow. Hermione put hers under his left. Together, the three of them began to walk.

“So,” Hermione asked, trying to keep Harry’s mind fresh by asking questions, “Where’d Snape go, do you suppose?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, “He…he said something about hunting for surviving members of the Order. He knew that Lupin and Tonks had been killed, but he wasn’t sure about Moody and the others. Some escaped from the battle, he said.”

“Moody survived,” Ron said, “I heard Malfoy talking to Avery about it a couple of nights ago. They haven’t been able to find him.”

“Snape’ll do that,” Hermione said passionatly, “He probably has some kind of connection to him. We’ll have more help in no time.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his head bobbing. Hermione lifted it up with her free hand.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do once we get inside,” Harry mumbled, barely audible to his friends, “I can’t fight anyone like this.”

“It’s just Narcissa and Draco,” Ron said.

“Just ?”

“Right, sorry.”

The trio continued in silence. Every now and then, Hermione would check to see that Harry was awake. His green eyes fluttered occasionally, but they remained alert. Sometimes, he would start to sing the school song to keep himself awake. Ron would hum along with him. Hermione’s mind, however, wasn’t just concentrated on Harry.

She was thinking of a plan to get inside. The Invisibility Cloak was tucked in Harry’s knapsack, and she knew that they could drape it over two of them without a problem. However, the three of them couldn’t fit so snugly inside. It would have to be Ron who stayed out. He was the only one who the Malfoys knew to be alive or uncaptured, and he was also a known Death Eater. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he could do it. He could be the one who was delivering the news of Lucius’s death to the family.

“Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Hmm?”

And she told him. He didn’t argue with her. He could see the logic in the plan, and knew that it was the only thing that would make sense to the dangerous people inside. Harry grunted in agreement.

All grew quiet as they began to approach the front door. Closing his eyes and making a wish, Harry took a deep breath. His tired body was beginning to pump the remaining adrenaline through his system. He felt Hermione’s shoulder slide out from underneath him. She quietly unzipped the knapsack and retrieved the cloak. Throwing it over herself and Harry, she threw her arms around him and bent over. He shuffled his feet up to the door, each step taking longer than it should. Ron reached up and wrapped on the door.

It was Malfoy, and not Ginny, who answered.

“Weasley?” he sneered.

“Evening, Malfoy,” Ron said, and Harry and Hermione slipped past him and into the manor.

It was dark inside. All of the lights had gone out for the night, and it was difficult to see. Harry, whose vision was already impaired, was nearly blind as he shuffled through the hallways. Hermione whispered directions into his ear, for she could see much better than he could. The bat-like instincts still hadn’t quite worn off, even if her vampire hunger was gone. The moonlight shone down a set of stairs, presumadly from an open door or a window of some kind. Hermione told Harry to follow the light. He lifted his feet slowly up the stairs, each step tougher than the next. Finally, though, they reached the top. The door was a jar. Clearly, Malfoy had left it to answer the door.

Ginny was laying on the bed, tears running down her cheeks as though she had been in pain. Hermione quietly shut the door behind them. She shot up in bed.

“Malfoy, just leave me alone!” she shouted. Hermione and Harry pulled the cloak off. Ginny opened her mouth in shock.

“Hermione?” she asked, “Is…is that really you?!?”

“Yes, Ginny,” Hermione said, and tears were now streaming down her cheeks, “It’s really me.”

Ginny pushed past Harry and rushed to meet her old friend. She kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Ginny, we came to rescue you,” Hermione said, and she gestured out to Harry. Ginny walked over to him slowly. Looking into his eyes, she felt a small twinge of familiarity.

“Hello,” Harry said to her. He was so tempted to fall onto the bed, but something was keeping him standing there. It was the eyes of the girl he loved. He longed to take her in his arms, to kiss her, but he knew that she didn’t recognize him. He was a stranger to her.

“I know you,” Ginny said, “don’t I? You’re someone that I used to know very well.”

“Yes,” Harry said, and he brushed her hair back from her face. She pulled away. Hermione shook her head.

“Ginny, listen to my order now, okay?” she said, holding the girl by the shoulder,“Remember this boy. He’s the boy that you were meant to be with. Malfoy and his cronies have told you to forget him. Push past that order. Remember the name Harry Potter .”

And suddenly, the girl’s eyes began to light up in recognition. The water welled up in those tear ducts. Memories flooded her mind, wonderful memories of walks on the lake and stolen kisses between classes. Suddenly, her chest swelled in happiness. And there, standing up against her bed, was the boy that she had thought she would never see again. She had heard that he was dead, yet he looked very much alive to her. He was tired, and looked as though he might fall over any minute, but he was there.

“Harry,” she said. Nodding, he walked over to her. Then, in a moment that could have held an eternity, he kissed her. Hermione stood back, crying in joy as she watched her two friends find each other again.

“I told you I’d be back for you,” Harry said to her, and she kissed him again.

“Took you long enough,” Ginny cried, and he held her tightly in his arms. She was smelling the scent of him, a scent that she had forgotten. Malfoy had left a giant loophole in that curse of his, and she couldn’t be more thankful for that.

“You look so tired,” she told him.

“I can tell you about that later,” Harry said, “Right now, we’ve got to get out of here. Ron is distracting Malfoy and his mother downstairs. We can slip out without notice if we hurry.”

“You didn’t move fast enough,” said a voice from the doorway. The three turned to see Narcissa Malfoy, standing with a wand in her hand, a smile on her face. She marched over to Ginny, placed the wand in her hand, and laughed harshly.

“What a shame this will be,” Narcissa said, “killing the person you love. You know, Potter, I was told that it was the Dark Lord who would be the one to finish you. I thought he had. He thinks that now, too, and will never notice if someone else finishes what he started. Now that I have discovered that it was you who killed my husband, I’m not going to hesitate anymore. Ginny, as your master I order you to take this wand…”

“Narcissa, no!” Ginny pleaded.

“…and without hesitation…”

“PLEASE!!!!”

“ Kill him.”

Ginny pulled the wand up, level now with Harry’s chest. Tears of remorse were falling steadily down her cheeks. He put his hands up slowly, shaking his head in fear.

“Ginny,” Harry said, his voice calm and yet shaky, “Don’t do this. You know that if you listen to me, you don’t have to…”

“Ignore everything that they say, Ginny,” Narcissa cackled, “Your ears are now deaf to their voices.”

And though Harry continued to talk, though he and Hermione continued to plead, Ginny could not hear a word that they were saying. Narcissa laughed again, the only sound that filled her ears. She looked into Ginny’s eyes, and nodded.

“Do it, Ginny,” she said, “Kill him.”

Her mouth moved to form the words. The wand was hot and slippery from the sweat on her palms. She felt it slide around in her hand as she raised it higher in front of Harry’s face. He had fallen silent, his mouth now still and unmoving. His eyes, giving the last sign of a plea, gave in as he realized that it was no use. He knew that he would die now. There was no fighting it anymore.

“Which him are you talking about, Narcissa?” came a voice from the corridor. Ginny whipped around, saved for a moment by the two boys standing in the doorway. On the left stood Ron, a broken wand held triumphantly in his hand. Under the crook of his elbow was Malfoy’s head, captured in a headlock that was as painful as it looked. Narcissa’s face contorted in rage. She went to give Ginny another order, but Ron shook his head at her.

“You give one more order to my sister,” he said, stone faced, “and I kill your son on the spot.”

“You haven’t the guts to kill me Weasley,” Malfoy said, and watched Ron’s face fall. It was true, and Ron himself knew it. As the Death Eaters had slept at the camp, Ron had felt repulsed by what he was doing. He had promised himself that he would never again kill another person, be they good or bad. Now, with Malfoy fully conscious, it would be even harder to do such a terrible thing. He tried to recover from his giveaway, tried to keep his face as solid and unafraid as possible. It was of no use. Narcissa had already spotted his weakness. She went to turn around and talk to Ginny again, only to find that two more wands were pointed in her direction. While Ron had distracted her, Hermione and Harry had bent down and retrieved their wands, which had been thrown up against the wall and landed, unharmed, directly behind them.

“Make one more move, Narcissa,” Harry said, “I dare you.”

“Oh,” she said, “well aren’t we the little hero?”

She didn’t look defeated though, and this frightened Harry. Her gaze snapped down onto Ginny again, and this time, a triumphant smirk spread across her face. Harry moved around, his wand still pointed directly at Narcissa, prepared for anything.

“You children can be so naïve,” she said. Within an instant, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and even Malfoy were bound in ropes that seemed to spring out of the air. It clung onto their ankles and hands, making them immobile. Harry struggled to free himself, trying to get to Ginny, but his strength had still not fully returned, and he was soon exhausted. It was a common trick that she had used, one that he had seen once before when Quirrel had summoned ropes out of the air with his mere hands in his first year at Hogwarts. Smiling, Narcissa walked over to Harry. She gave a small, defiant chuckle at his misfortune. Then, she moved her mouth up to his ear. Her voice was small, barely audible to him and not even able to be halfway comprehended by the others.

“Did you honestly think that you could prevail? Beat us, the Death Eaters, when you are merely seventeen? So much for hope…so much for love.”

In that moment, another rope sprung out at him and latched around his waist. This rope, however, wasn’t one of the same make as though around his appendages. It was thick and silver, and had small barbs on it that dug deep into his sides. He cried out in pain, and Ginny got up frantically to assist him, but Narcissa stopped her.

“He is not what you want,” she said, putting her arms out as Ginny wrestled to break free of her grasp. Then, Narcissa led her gently over to the window. Opening it, she looked out over the lake.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” she asked, and Ginny didn’t respond. She was frantically looking at Harry, who was seemingly trying to ignore the agony in which he was enduring. Narcissa pulled her face around.

“You are of no further use to me, Ginny Weasley,” she said, and a horrible smile, like that of a demon, spread across her face. Ginny could see that she had gone mad, and she couldn’t stop what happened next.

“Climb up on the ledge,” Narcissa said, and Ginny had to do it. Holding onto the sides for dear life, she felt herself teeter and totter.

“Say goodbye to your friends, Ginny.”

“No…” uttered Harry from the other side of the room, but Ginny still couldn’t hear him.

“Jump, Ginny,” Narcissa said, “Jump now.”

Harry’s screams of pain and horror filled the chamber as Ginny’s feet left the windowsill and she disappeared from sight.

Harry’s stomach rose up into his throat as he watched her fall. He could hear her scream resound through the night air before it ceased abruptly altogether. Filled with rage, and ignoring the excruciating pain in his side, he lunged at Narcissa. The wire dug deeper into his side.

“Harry, stop!” Hermione pleaded. Tears were falling down like rain in a storm from her eyes. She glanced at Ron, whose body was riddled with sobs, limp in the ropes that bound him. His sister was gone…and he hadn’t been able to do anything to save her. She couldn’t bear to look at Harry again. She knew this had broken him…he was nothing more than a shell now.

She was wrong. In the time that it had taken for her to look around, Harry had felt the losses of all of those that he loved boil up inside of him. Images of each one of them…his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Ginny…began to swirl in his mind. He was formulating a plan for revenge, a plan that would save the entire world and avenge their deaths. Remember them, he had said going into battle. He would do that, he told himself. It would start with the Malfoys.

Hermione and Ron felt their bonds suddenly break free, and they fell to the ground in a heap. Malfoy advanced onto them, but Harry was faster than he was. The wand that he had tucked into his back pocket before the ropes had captured him was in his hand so fast, Hermione though that he had conjured it up in midair.

“How did you…” Malfoy began, but Harry, clutching his side, shook his head.

“Enough questions, Malfoy,” he said, and the green light shot out of his wand without even a word of his own. Malfoy’s body flew back across the room, hit the wall, and crashed to the floor. Narcissa, now blind with her own rage, turned her wand on Harry.

“ Avada-”

“ Protego!” shouted Hermione and Ron. Narcissa was knocked to the floor by the impact of the spell, her wand landing beside the body of her son. Harry walked over and pointed his wand in her face. She cowered against the wall, tears falling from her eyes. She was pleading with him, begging him not to take her life.

“Please,” she begged, “Not me too. Please…I don’t want to die.”

“Your entire family is gone,” Harry said, stone faced, “What else do you have to live for?”

“You can ask yourself the same question,” Narcissa told him, “Why do you want to live?”

“It’s not a matter of cowardice, as it is with you,” Harry replied, “I have a duty that must be fulfilled, and I intend to fulfill it. But you…you have nothing!”

“We are his family,” Hermione said, “We love him, and we are the reason that he should live too.”

She wasn’t just saying this to Narcissa, but to Harry as well. She felt that, as Ginny had plummeted to her death, the boy that she knew as her best friend had given up on ever being happy again. She was determined to prove him wrong.

“I don’t deserve to die,” Narcissa said, “I don’t…”

“WHY?” Harry bellowed, tears now burning the side of his cheeks, his side ready to split open, “WHY DON’T YOU?!? YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER, AND YOU LAUGHED ABOUT IT! I LOVED HER, AND IT WAS YOU WHO TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME! YOU DESERVE TO DIE…YOU KNOW IT!”

Harry went to raise his wand, but someone else beat him to it. Ron, who had been silent and reserved this entire time, had stepped to the side of Narcissa. With a straight face, he uttered the Killing Curse. Narcissa fell with a thud to the floor, dead as a doornail. Hermione looked at Ron in pure surprise, with a sense of unwanted pride. She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He sobbed into her shoulder, and for a few moments, they stood there, holding one another and not saying anything. Just crying together.

“Harry,” Hermione said, turning around. He was nowhere to be found. She looked in the doorway and all around the room. Nothing. She tapped Ron, and he looked up. Then, they heard a cry from outside. Looking down below them, they saw a small figure on the grass, holding something in its arms. The two of them rushed down the flight of stairs. The door to the manor was already open, and they slipped through it and onto the stone steps. Jumping down, they hustled over to where Harry sat, Ginny held fast into his arms. He was brushing her hair back, the sounds of his hysterical sobs filling the night. Hermione dropped to her knees, ready to comfort him. He refused to look at her.

It was as if their friend had entered another world altogether. He didn’t notice either of them there, but just seemed to see Ginny and nothing else besides her. He was sobbing and humming at the same time, rocking her back and forth and kissing her lips. He was humming a lullaby, as if she were merely asleep. His phrases weren’t to them, but to her, talking as if she were still alive.

“You remember when you told Romilda Vane about the Hungarian Horntail on my chest?” Harry said, chuckling through his sobs, “And then you said Ron had a Pigmy Puff, but you wouldn't say where? That was hilarious, you know. She probably thought Ron was some kind of weirdo or something.”

“Harry,” Hermione said to him, but he couldn’t hear her, it seemed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said to Ginny, “I’m so sorry for breaking up with you last year. This…this is why. I knew better than this, Gin. I…this is all my fault! It’s always my fault! I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t attach myself to anyone! They always die! THEY DIE BECAUSE OF ME!”

“Harry,” Hermione said again, and she went to touch his hand. He suddenly looked up, searching around for a few moments. Then, his eyes seemed to find her. Looking into them, he broke. His shoulders sagged downward. The arms that were holding Ginny went limp, and she now rested more in his lap. The tears wouldn’t stop coming. Never before had he cried in front of her in such a way. There were times in which she had seen him tear up, but never before like this. This wasn’t the sound of pain and grief…it was the sound of true heartbreak. Ron had bent to kiss Ginny’s forehead, but Harry would not let her go all the way for him to hug her. Hermione moved behind Harry and held him from the back.

“Shh…” she cooed in his ear.

“Why?” he pleaded, “Why her? Why any of them? She was so beautiful! She was…I loved her, Hermione! I-I-I…”

He let out a cry of anguish that Hermione was sure could have been heard for a hundred miles. The wind seemed to whip it away, sending it out to different parts of the countryside. Perhaps others would soon know the great suffering that was taking place.

“Harry,” she said, rubbing his arms in comfort, tears falling fast from her own eyes, “It was her time, okay? She…she knew that you loved her. She understood that.”

“SHUT UP WITH THAT TALK!” he said, “I DON’T CARE WHAT SHE KNEW OF WHAT SHE DIDN’T KNOW! IT WON’T BRING HER BACK! IT WON’T!!”

“She would want you to move on, mate,” Ron said.

“NO!” Harry uttered, “NO, I WON’T! I’M DONE!!! I’M THROUGH! HE CAN KILL ME, I DON’T CARE!”

He broke down again into another bout of sobs. Hermione had to look away. To see him in this kind of pain was unbearable. She refused to watch it anymore. Collecting herself, she began to walk to the front of the manor. Ron, giving his sister a final kiss on the cheek, followed her. Harry merely sat there; crying into Ginny’s shoulders, asking for a miracle that he knew wouldn’t come.

“All of our powers,” he said to her, “All of our abilities, and yet we can’t undo this . I can’t bring you back! God, Ginny, don’t leave me like this! I can’t do this without you! I love you, Ginny! Please…don’t do this!”

He tried to shake her, to see if she would wake up. The shock of it all was making him anxious. It didn’t happen, he kept thinking, she would be up and walking with him in no time! But the longer they sat, the colder she continued to grow. Her eyes would not open, her hands would not move.

“I LOVE YOU!” he shouted, “I…oh, Ginny! Tell them, whoever took you away, to come and get me! You hear that, whoever you are? TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

Still, nothing happened. There was no change in his location, no change in his feeling. There was nothing left to him, except an emptiness somewhere inside of him. He had lost part of himself...and that part was Ginny. He could almost feel her tugging on his shirt, assuring him that everything was okay. Then, suddenly, he felt it again. Looking around, he looked down at her again...and found her staring back at him, a tired expression on her face, but eyes open and alert nonetheless.

Harry blinked his eyes multiple times, making sure that the reflection of the tears and the moonlight weren’t playing tricks on him. He was sure that delirium had struck him, that his sanity was slowly melting away as he stared into Ginny’s open eyes once more.

Just a muscle reflex, he thought to himself, nothing more than that.

“Harry?” her voice called out, faint and small, but there. He shook his head again, sure he was dreaming, sure that any second now, he would wake up to find himself holding her dead body again. But she smiled at him, and she pulled on his shirt again, and he suddenly realized that this was real…that she wasn’t dead, but still alive, lying in his arms and looking up at him as if he had shaken her awake from a deep sleep.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said to her, and now more tears were falling, but from joy. He was staring at her in awe, unable to suppress his emotions any longer. He swept her into a kiss, sobbing as her lips connected with his. He tasted her again in his mouth, the sweet taste of strawberries and happiness filling his entire body with happiness.

“HERMIONE!” he called out, “RON, COME QUICKLY!”

“They left?” Ginny asked, and Harry laughed at her, “Why would they leave me?”

“I was a bit distraught, Gin,” he said, “Guess they couldn’t handle me in such a state as I was in.”

“Why’d you get yourself all worked up, Harry? And why the Hell are you bleeding?” she asked him, clueless. He looked at her awkwardly, and she shrugged at him.

“You don’t remember what happened to you?” he asked her, and she looked up at the sky. Closing her eyes, Harry could see that she was racking her memory. He wished she would think with them open…he wanted those eyes to stay open forever. Also, after she had mentioned it, his torn side had started hurting again.

“Narcissa did something to me,” Ginny said, “She told me to…to…God, Harry, what? I’m way too tired to think right now.”

Harry laughed again, utterly amazed at all of this. He could her footsteps approaching from behind, and glanced over his shoulder to see two figures, running at him and his girlfriend as if a Basilisk was chasing them.

“We heard you scream Harry,” Hermione said, her breath coming in gasps, “What was it you…” but she stopped. She noticed that Ginny was awake and alert, her arms wrapped around Harry’s neck as if she had merely fallen asleep in his arms. Ron was at a loss for words. He sunk down onto his knees and grabbed his sister’s hand. Kissing it gently, he moved in and planted one on her cheek as well.

“You scared the Hell out of me, there,” he said, and tears were falling from his eyes, too. “Don’t you ever do that again, d’you understand me? Mum’ll have a fit.”

Ginny chuckled, and then cried out in pain. She clutched the side of her ribcage, and Harry sat bolt upright. Ron backed off as Ginny let out another gasp of pain. Harry slowly lifted her shirt up to see if he could spot anything that was causing the pain. He gave a small groan as his eyes befell the great bruise that had formed on her body. Below her fifth rib, which appeared broken, the blood had gathered and caused the skin to turn a dark shade of purple. A gash sat below it, probably caused by the impact with the ground or a rock that had sat below where her body had fallen. Harry shifted his hands so that they were nowhere near that side of the body. She cried out again, louder this time.

“NO!” she said, “NO! Put your hand back there, please!”

Harry did as she asked him to do. Placing his hand gently around her back, he resumed his original position. She was sweating in agony, looking up into his eyes and pleading with him to make it go away.

“I was fine a minute ago,” she said, “What the Hell is causing this pain now? I…ARRGHH!!!”

Her chest gave another painful throb. Ron took her hand, and Hermione moved in to look at her again. She looked up at Harry, who was feeling completely helpless, upset because he had no idea what to do. Hermione, however, had made a careful observation.

“Harry,” she said, “Move your hand away from her again.”

“But,” Harry replied, “she just said it hurts her when I…”

“Just do it!”

He did so without hesitation. Ginny cried out again, and Harry cooed to her softly. She lashed around.

“Put it back on!” she screeched, “Put it back on!”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “Place your hand directly on the bruise, okay?”

“Won’t that hurt her more?” Harry asked, “I’ve had plenty of bruises before Hermione, and usually, I don’t want anyone near them.”

“Yes, well I don’t think this is an ordinary circumstance, Harry,” Hermione crisply said to him, “First of all, she should be dead, not bruised. Second of all, I’m fairly certain that my theory is correct. Now, for the sake of your girlfriend, would you please put your hand on that bruise?”

Shaking his head, Harry did as he was told. Ginny’s breathing eased. Her eyes opened again, bright and calm once more. The tears began to subside.

“Don’t move that hand, okay?” Hermione said, “Not until we can figure out a way to move her.”

“What just happened?” Harry asked, and Hermione smiled. Ron looked up at her, too.

“I love you,” he said to her, and kissed her lightly on the lips. Hermione, blushing, thanked him and then looked back at Harry and Ginny.

“I don’t think that you two are an ordinary couple,” she explained, and the two looked at each other, than back at her.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” Harry asked.

“Well, we know that you survived that Killing Curse because of Ginny’s love for you,” she said, and Ginny’s brow furrowed.

“Explain it to you later,” Harry told her. Hermione, nodding continued.

“I think that you, Harry, in turn, have the same ability over her,” she said, “Apart, the thoughts that you have of one another keep both of you safe from any deadly danger. Together, I think that, when one of you is wounded, the other can use the power of the heart to heal you. Don’t you see what I’m getting at?”

“Well…” Ginny started, “I’m kind of…no, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

But Hermione could see that Harry did. In his fifth year, Dumbledore had told him what power he possessed that Voldemort did not. Now, he understood it in full. His ability to love cancelled out any harm that he or his followers tried to do to him or someone else that shared the same feeling for him. As long as he loved Ginny, or Ron, or Hermione, they were all safe. Weren’t they?

“This can’t be completely right,” Harry said to her, “If my ability to love can save Ginny’s life, then why couldn’t it save Sirius? Why couldn’t it save Dumbledore? I loved both of them, too….just in a different way.”

“I…I don’ think it works all the time,” Hermione said, “I think that it only works if it isn’t time for that person to go yet. It works when that person has something more to give. When Ginny’s time or your time comes, the power won’t work anymore.”

“Sirius had more to give,” Harry said, “And Dumbledore had more to teach me. I could have known so much more had he been around to help me.”

“Sirius had been dying for many years, Harry,” Hermione replied, “No one noticed it, not even him, but he was. Think about it. Other than you and Lupin, he had no real friends left. His youth and soul had dried up in Azkaban. He wanted to see James again, to relive his life in happiness. His time had come and past, and when he left, he was able to leave a flame in you that will be there forever. He taught you what you needed to learn from him…the love of a relative or guardian.”

“And Dumbledore?” Harry said.

“He knew that you were ready,” said another voice, and this time it was Ginny’s and not Hermione’s. “He knew that you were prepared for this. He gave you the tools, and it was time that you figured out how they worked and used them to your advantage. You were able to go into battle because of everything he had given to you. Now, you are ready to fight Voldemort because of everything he gave to you. It was his time too, Harry. He knew that.”

“Snape said he pleaded with him to take his life,” Harry replied, and Ron nodded.

“Based on what the girls just professed, he probably did,” he said, smiling. Harry looked up at the sky. Tonight, it had happened. For the past few months, in his healing and preparation to save his friends, Snape had taught him new spells and made him more powerful than he could have ever imagined. Tonight, he became the man needed to wield those powers. Last year, before the cave and the night of Dumbledore’s murder, he had realized the true meaning of a prophecy. Now, he knew he had the ability to fulfill it, to walk into the arena with his head held high. His support surrounded him now, ready to fight and die with him, if need be. He had it all…love, loyal friends, and the knowledge of what was the right thing to do. Those were things that Voldemort would never have. Nodding, he looked down into Ginny’s face. Leaning in, he kissed her once more.

“I love you,” he said to her, and she nodded.

“I know,” she replied, “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt you,” he said, “I promise, it’ll never happen again.”

“I know,” Ginny exclaimed, “I knew from the beginning. But I do have one thing to say to you.”

“What?”

“I hope you see now what an idiotic move it was to dump me in the first place.”

“Yeah…it was pretty dumb. Er...by the way, now that we know that you and I touching each other can heal our wounds...can you...”

"Oh...yeah."

And she placed her hand over the cuts on his sides. The pain began to die down slowly, and then disappeared, though the cuts still stayed there.

“Ahem.”

Ron interrupted them. He was standing up, looking down at all three of them.

“Sorry to break up the little lovefest, philosophical speech session,” he said, “But might I remind everyone that we are supposed to be at war? Ginny, your free will is locked up somewhere in that house, and we need to find it so that you aren’t listening to the demands of some 100,000 Death Eaters. Also, if we find Mad Eye Moody and he ends up being in some kind of foul mood or something, you don’t want to be doing anything he asks you to do, either. So…who’s up for some manor-scouring?”

“Does it look like I can move?” Ginny said.

“I’ll stay with you,” Hermione answered, “The boys can go find things in the house that we’ll need for the rest of our journey.”

“Might I mention the fact that if Harry leaves, my pain returns full throttle?” she asked. Harry kissed her cheek lightly.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, “Just concentrate on me, okay? Picture my hand on your side, and I promise, the pain won’t come back. I’ll think about you too, alright? That way, through thought, we’re still together.”

“If that pain comes back, you’re dead,” she told him. Smiling at her, he gently slipped his hand out from under her. Hermione, with her legs crossed, created a pillow for Ginny with her lap. Harry kissed her one final time, and then left with Ron. He kept his eyes on her until they got to the corner of the manor. Then, she was out of his view.

They retraced their steps up to the top of the tower, where Draco and Narcissa’s bodies were sprawled across the floor. Stepping over them, Harry looked at the floorboards to see if any of them were standing up, seemingly messed with in order to help hide the box in which Ginny’s free will sat locked away. Nothing was there. They left the room quickly and moved onto Narcissa’s bedroom, searching for anything funny there. Ron went to check the living room. Harry went to the upper area of the house.

There was a door that Harry could see led to the upper tower of the castle. A giant padlock bolted the handle shut. Pointing his wand at it, he said, “ Alohomora!” to open it. Nothing happened.

“Bombarda!” he cried. Again, nothing.

“HARRY!” Ron called, “HARRY!”

He came up to him, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Found it in the top drawer of Narcissa’s nightstand,” Ron said, “What’d you ‘spose it mean?”

Harry read the words over in his head. It was a small poem, two lines that he assumed would come in useful in some way to gaining back what they wanted.

“Unwillfully given, but willingly hidden, the secret remains unseen.

The servant created, the will kept, these words alone the key.”

Instantly, the door flung open. Something was slung into Harry’s arms. It was a small box, the lock open. Harry eased the lid up, and the shadow of something escaped. It skipped down the hallway and out of sight. Ron turned to give chase, but Harry extended his hand to stop him.

“Let freedom find its owner again,” he said, and motioned for him to climb the stairs up into the tower. Ron nodded, and climbed up the stairs right behind his friend.

Once in the tower, Harry went directly to the desk. There were multiple papers stacked there, and he began to flip through them, searching for something that would help them in battle. Ron, meanwhile was looking at the wall.

The Malfoy family crest was there, along with family heirlooms and sorts of the same category. There was a skull that sat on the top of the dresser in the corner, and along with a photo of the three Malfoys. Ron grimaced.

“Ugly people,” Ron said.

“Get over here,” Harry called to him, his voice anxious. Ron turned around and looked down at the papers that Harry was staring at, wide-eyed. His hands were shaking as he began to explain to Ron what the scribbling of names and locations meant, for it was in Parselmouth, and no doubt written by Voldemort himself.

“They’re orders,” he told him, “Specific orders on what to attack and when to do it. All of these…” he pointed to the top of the list… “are names of places that have already been destroyed. The ones on the bottom are what will soon be attacked.”

“This is good news, then, Harry,” Ron told him, “We know where they’ll strike now. We can get to those places and stop them before anything happens.”

“It would be great,” Harry replied, “But there’s one thing that isn’t.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re moving on Azkaban tonight,” he said, “The specific orders go into detail of how to do it. All of those who were captured at Hogwarts are to be locked into their cells at midnight.”

“And then?”

“They set fire to the prison…those inside…they…”

He couldn’t go on.

The boys rushed out of the castle quickly, their feet clambering down onto the stone walkway. Harry clutched the paper in his hand, the sweat from his palm seeping onto it frantically. Ginny and Hermione sat up straight, and Harry rushed to place his hand on Ginny’s side again as he watched her wince.

“What is it?” Ginny asked, “What’d you find?”

“Harry found some paper in the tower,” Ron said, “He said that it was written in Parseltongue, and when he translated it, it turned out to be orders of some kind.”

“What kind of orders?” Hermione pressed them.

“Attacks,” Harry replied, “When, where, and how to carry them out. It seems to me that we have a bunch of Death Eater battle plans right here in our hands.”

“Well that’s good, right?” Ginny asked, “We know where they’re going to be. We get people together and attack them ourselves. Besides, now we know the areas to avoid in our search for remaining Order members.”

“It sounds great, I know,” Harry told them, “But the truth is, there was something else in those orders. It would be wonderful under any other circumstances…but they attack tonight.”

“Where?” Hermione asked.

“They’re going to burn Azkaban to the ground,” Ron said, “They’ll lock the Hogwarts prisoners up inside the cells and burn them alive.”

Hermione gasped and Ginny let out a cry. Ron went to comfort his girlfriend, and Harry held Ginny closer. The entire Weasley family, aside from herself, Ron, and Bill, who had been killed in the first battle, sat inside that prison, awaiting their own deaths. Neville and Luna were there too, trapped and unable to break free. The hope that had returned to the four of them only an hour before had quickly been whipped away within five minutes time.

“We’ve got to help them,” Ginny said finally, and she sat up and looked into Harry’s eyes. Harry nodded.

“I know,” he said, “and that’s what we can try to do. But…Ginny, I don’t think that any of you quite understand what we’re going up against.”

“Er…Harry?” Ron said sarcastically, “No offense or anything…but how can we not understand it by now? I mean, each of us has been through Hell. I was a member of the Death Eaters. Hermione was a vampire, and Ginny was a servant for one of them! I think we know exactly what we’re up against, mate. I mean, we’ve come from immortality, to death, to coming back from the dead, and a whole lot more. We took out an entire camp of them! How can we not understand it?!?”

“Ron’s right Harry,” Hermione said, “We do get it.”

“Have you ever felt the true effects of a Dementor?” Harry asked anxiously, “Have you ever stared Voldemort square in the face, his laughter filling your ears and his eyes reading the truth in your mind as if you were an open book? These are two of the new things that you all are going to have experience if we do this. I’m just…I’m not sure if I want you to have to handle it. You’ve been through a lot of trauma…more than you had in your last Dementor attack. Those memories will be sprung upon you in a manner that you don’t get!”

“I would rather save my family and suffer doing so,” Ginny said, “then suffer for the rest of my life without them.”

“That’s something that you DO understand, Harry,” Ron told him, “And you understand the rest of it, too. In order to save our family, we’re willing to suffer through the Dementors and Voldemort. I don’t want to understand how you feel when it comes to family.”

Harry looked at them all. His glance first went to Ginny, then to Ron, and then Hermione. In his mind, he was trying to capture them as they were now, unaware of what it felt like to lose those that were so close to you. Of course, the pain that they had endured for the past few months was a taste of it. In the end, though, it had been a false alarm. The loss wouldn’t be felt. He wanted them to keep from understanding. The other things could be dealt with in time, but Ginny was right. It was better to deal with them with your family around you.

“Alright, then,” Harry said, “Looks like we’re going to Azkaban.”

“Thank you,” Ginny cried, and she pulled him down into a kiss, tears falling again from eyes that hadn’t stopped weeping for months. He took a deep breath, nodded, and then took her hand in his. Helping her up, he held her into his waist.

“Hermione, can you Apparate with Ron?” he asked. She nodded.

“We’re Apparating?” Ginny asked, “Won’t they know that we’re there?”

“They’re going to know anyway,” Harry replied, “Besides, we’re not going directly there.”

“We’re not?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry said, “We’ve got to go see somebody first.”

“Harry, you told us you don’t know where anybody is,” Ron said.

“I don’t exactly know how or why,” Harry replied, “But I just have a hunch and I think we need to follow it.”

“And we should trust this hunch because?” Hermione pressed.

“Just do it, okay?”

Harry feet slammed into the ground, but he managed to keep himself and Ginny upright as they landed in a heavily wooded area somewhere in the mountains. Hermione and Ron were close behind him, having followed the description of the place that Harry had given them. Ron swallowed an entire mouthful of grass on impact, but Hermione landed daintily.

“I love you,” she said as he spit dirt from between his lips. Grumbling, he took the hand that she offered to him and stood up.

“Where are we?” Ron asked.

“There’s a traveler here,” Harry said, “Somewhere close by in these woods. We need to find him…and fast.”

“Okay, Professor Trelawney,” Ginny said, and he gave her a small chuckle and led them through the trees. They moved quickly, jogging small steps here and there in order to reach some kind of destination faster. It seemed to the other three that Harry knew where he was going. None of them even knew where they were.

“Stop,” Harry called out, and they obeyed him. Ginny had walked another couple of steps ahead of them, and Harry motioned to her to cut it out.

“Sorry,” she said, “It felt good to defy somebody again.”

She turned around. Not twenty feet in front of her, a small light was bobbing up and down in the woods, advancing towards them steadily. Harry tiptoed over to Ginny and stood in front of her, his wand raised in the air.

“Who are you?” he called out.

“Well, ‘at’s a nice way o’ greetin’ an ol’ friend?” grumbled a familiar voice, and Harry spirits soared. Approaching out of the shadows was Hagrid, a face he never thought he would see again. He saw the lantern rise up high over his head, and then Hagrid’s face appeared, halfway covered by his thick, bushy beard.

“Harry,” Hagrid said, “Good ‘ter see yer again, m’boy.”

“Hello, Hagrid,” he said, “Thought they had you captured.”

“They did,” he replied, “But Hermione, o’ course, come ter me rescue, and saved the day fer me.”

As if on cue, Hermione released Ron’s hand and pulled Hagrid into a hug, her arms barely able to go around the front of his stomach.

“You got out okay,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

“So I did,” Hagrid replied.

“Why aren’t you surprised to see us, Hagrid?” Ginny asked.

“Ah, well, we been waiting!” Hagrid said, and he gestured behind him. There, standing before them all, were Moody and Snape, wands a glow in the darkness.

“It’s not going to be an easy battle, boy,” Moody growled, his magical eye twisting in numerous directions, “But if you’re all up for it, I think we’ve got a fair shot.”

“Right,” Hermione said, “We’re outnumbered by…I can’t even do math that fast! I mean, it’s lovely to see you all again, don’t get me wrong, but let’s be realistic. We’ve got two Aurors and a giant. We’ve got four teenagers, one of which is injured and hasn’t come of age. How are we going to take on several hundred Death Eaters, Dementors, and God knows what else?”

“Oh,” Snape said, “I think that you’ll find that you’re more than capable. Especially with Harry’s strength returned to it’s full potential.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked inquisitively.

“Let’s just say he is much more than what he used to be.”

“What…” began Ginny, looking back at her boyfriend, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know, either, Gin,” he said, “But we’ll find out about that later. Right now, we’ve got to go.”

“Hold onto your buttocks,” Moody growled. Harry gripped Ginny’s side again, Hermione mimicked him with Ron, and the group Apparated from the site.

The air was thick with tension as they landed in the small wood that surrounded the prison. Harry looked out from behind a tree to see what the landscape looked like.

The prison was nothing like that of a common Muggle jail. It was large and made of stone, but resembled more of a stable than a human jail. There were only two doors, one at the front and the other at the back. Snape began to explain that the inside was made of wood, and that the entire building would catch fire within a few minutes. Moody motioned for Hermione and Ron to follow him around the outside.

“Checking the perimeter for any outside Death Eaters,” he said.

“Won’t they all be outside if they’re planning on torching the place?” Ron asked.

“Not until the last moment,” Moody said, “They don’t want the prisoners inside to have any inclination as to what they’re planning to do.”

“I’m coming too,” Harry said bravely.

“No, you’re not,” Snape replied, holding him firmly by the shoulder.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going inside with me,” Snape told him firmly, and Harry’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing…they were going to burst in with hope of survival?

“Snape,” Harry began, “Do you think…”

“He’s got it well planned, ‘Arry,” Hagrid said, “Yer gonna be fine.”

“And what about Ginny? Where’s she going?” he asked.

“I want to stay with Harry,” Ginny said.

“Yer stayin’ wit’ me, Ginny,” Hagrid boomed, “’S not safe in there, and yer injured. ‘S best you stay right here.”

“But…”

“It’ll be okay, Gin,” Harry told her, and he kissed her lightly on the forehead, “Just keep me in here, alright? As long as you’re thinking about me…”

“Nothing can happen to you,” Ginny finished for him. She grasped his hand, and he kissed that, too. Then, he walked over to Snape.

“Got your Invisibility Cloak with you?” he asked, and Harry delved into his backpack and retrieved the flowing, transparent robe. Snape took it from his hand and whipped it over the two of them. Both crouched down, Snape even lower than Harry to hide his feet. Hagrid took Ginny back up to the top of the forest, and she tried to protest, but her strength still had not returned in full. She could only watch as the door to the prison opened lightly and Harry and Snape, invisible to the world, stepped inside.

Ron, Hermione, and Moody slunk around the side of the prison, searching for any sign of danger or peril that would present a problem. Hermione found the situation very odd. So far, they had not come across any Death Eaters outside. That surprised her, of course. The oddest thing, however, was the absence of the Dementors. If they were the guards, then why were they not outside, wandering around in search of intruders?

“Moody?” Hermione called out, but Moody held out his hand.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ms. Granger,” Moody replied, “There are no Dementors outside, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, “That’s exactly it.”

“Where are they?” Ron called from beside her.

“I have a feeling,” Moody said, “that they are inside, feeding upon the fear and sadness of the miserable souls there.”

“Why isn’t anybody out here?” Hermione asked.

“There aren’t many threats left,” he growled, “Most of the Aurors have either been killed or are behind a cell in the prison already. The Death Eaters don’t know that Potter is alive, or that the Malfoys have been killed. They have no idea that you and Mr. Weasley are with me, who they believe to have died, or that Snape is on our side now. They think that we are all rotting away somewhere in an open field, or captured by vampires, got me?”

“So we’re a little surprise attack for them?” Hermione asked.

“Indeed we are.”

Once Harry and Snape were inside the prison, Harry felt the blood in his veins freeze. Everywhere, swarming around the cells, were Dementors. He tried to contain his fear, to ignore it so that he didn’t give away their position to them. Walking along the perimeter of the cells were at least twenty Death Eaters. He saw Dolohov, Avery, and a few fresh faces that he had never seen before. There were those that he had spotted at the battle, but had never had the opportunity to learn their names. And there, standing before the end cell, was the one that he hated the most. Bellatrix Lestrange, a whip in one hand and a wand in the other, stood before the cell that contained the Weasleys and Luna, laughing as she served them a terrifying story.

“No one knows where he got to,” Bellatrix said, “But when we scoured that camp, we didn’t find one survivor. Probably another Dark Wizard, in search of overthrowing even us. Seems like he made off with your son, anyway.”

“Get away from us, Lestrange,” Harry heard Fred grumble, “There is nothing that you can say that will upset us anymore.”

Bellatrix cracked the whip, and Harry heard Fred scream.

“Insolent fool,” she sneered, “You will not talk back to me. I have the power here. I have the authority.”

“And where is Voldemort?” Luna asked, her voice less airy now, and more fearful, “Where is the “greatest” Wizard alive, as you put it? Why isn’t he here, with us?”

“He has more important business to attend to,” Bellatrix replied, and she smiled maliciously at the young girl, “Besides, you hardly matter anymore. None of you have the strength to take any of us on. Potter is dead, and the Dark Lord now rules this world. It is time to stop hoping, as so many of your comrades here have done.”

Bellatrix turned her back, and Harry felt Snape slip out from under the robe. He moved to follow but Snape made a motion with his hand to hold him back.

“Well said, Bella,” he said as he walked toward her. She whipped around, and her eyes grew wide in surprise.

“You’re…you’re dead,” she said, “I watched the Weasley boy kill you. What-what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to assist,” Snape said, “Isn’t it nearly time that you torched this place?”

There was great panic within the prison, and it took all of the strength Harry had not to enter each of the cells and comfort the terrified prisoners. He saw inside them the faces of his friends. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil sat in their cell, clinging to one another, much skinnier and ragged then he remembered. He began a slow walk toward Snape, hoping that he would soon give a signal for him. Waiting was something he couldn’t stand.

“Good,” Bella replied to him, “We could use some assistance.”

“Oh,” Snape said, “Did I not make myself clear? I am here to assist the prisoners, as is my friend.”

And he made the motion. Harry flung the cloak off, and pointed his wand directly at Bellatrix’s face. She made to grab her wand, but Snape held up his as well.

“Don’t you think your master would be awfully furious if you killed the person that he wants to get rid of?” Snape sneered.

“Not if he already thinks that he’s dead,” she replied.

“Oh, but I don’t think he does now,” Snape said, “At least, he’ll know very soon. And if he then discovers that you finished him off, he won’t be very happy with you.”

“So why don’t you order them away?” Harry requested of her, “Stop the torching of this place, or else you’ll be killing not only the prisoners and me, but yourself as well.”

Bellatrix hesitated for a moment. Snape looked triumphant, but Harry’s gut was sending him a message again. He wasn’t quite sure why, but something didn’t feel right. And then he saw a smirk appear on Bellatrix’s face.

“You think I’m giving up that easily?” Bellatrix cackled. Snape’s eyes narrowed in hatred.

“If you’re wise, you will, Bella,” he replied, and he began to draw his wand. She was too fast for him. Raising her wand up, she uttered “ Lacarnum Inflamara!”

Within an instant, the entire prison was aflame. The beams above were burning hot, crackling and engulfed by fire. Dementors let out shrieks, and the Death Eaters inside shouted insults at Bellatrix as they made for the exits. She began to follow them, but Harry moved faster than she could. He pounced on her back and brought her down, holding her hands back against the stone floor. She gazed at him with a defiant sneer, the flames closing the doorway off to her. She struggled against him, but somehow, his strength was greater than hers.

“You haven’t got it in you, Potter,” she said, and he raised his wand to her face.

“Where do you think Malfoy went to?” he asked her, “Who do you think attacked that camp?”

“HARRY!” shouted Mrs. Weasley, and he whipped around. Their cell was aflame, the fire coming closer and closer to the family. Luna was coughing, having already inhaled enough smoke to make it difficult for her lungs to function. With a final glare at Bellatrix, he released her.

“ Bombarda!” he shouted, and the door of the cell flung open. Looking around, he saw that Snape was frantically freeing others trapped within the prison. They were all unarmed, unable to put out the fire or assist in any way. Harry helped Luna while Mr.and Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the family struggled to make it out of the cell.

“We’ll never make it out!” Mr. Weasley called. Harry ignored him. Pulling out his wand, he made his way to the doorway.

“Aguamenti!” he bellowed. A small hole formed in the flames as water rushed over and stifled them. Still, he couldn’t do this alone. Looking around for Snape, he couldn’t see. The smoke had begun to grow thick. Coughing and sputtering, he uttered the spell again and again. He heard a thud behind him. From the shouts of Mrs. Weasley, he could tell that Luna had collapsed. Working as quickly as he could, the flames began to decrease. However, the more he opened and closed his mouth, the more smoke entered his body and delved into his lungs. He cast another look around for Snape, and now his vision was completely obscured. Not only had Snape disappeared, but he had lost sight of Bellatrix as well. There was no telling where she had gone, and he now realized that he had left her armed. Cursing himself, he spun around and looked back up at the door.

It would be no use. The flames that he had put out had been reborn from the remaining fire in the room, and now took the place of their deceased brothers and sisters. Coughing roughly, Harry called out as loudly as he could.

“SNAPE!” he yelled, “SNAPE, THE DOOR IS COVERED! SNAPE! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!”

“POTTER!” he heard the old Potions Master reply, “POTTER, USE YOUR POWER! USE IT TO SAVE US!”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Harry said, searching the smoke for any signs of the man. He could hear him shout something, but it wasn’t audible anymore. The smoke had begun to burn his eyes, his throat. It was beginning to cloud his mind, making his senses numb. What power is he talking about? Harry thought frantically to himself, What power have I got?

“Harry!” Fred called out from behind him, “The beams! We’ve got to get out from underneath them! I can hear them beginning to give way!”

I love you, Ginny, Harry thought, as he felt Mr. Weasley grab his hand, and they moved through the smoke.

“THE PRISON’S ON FIRE, HAGRID!” Ginny uttered, and Hagrid sat up in a flash. He had been dozing off, his head resting on the tree that he and Ginny had found. Ginny jumped up from her resting spot and made a motion of running toward Azkaban. Hagrid held her back.

“No, Ginny!” he said.

“My family is IN there!” she screamed, fighting his resistance, “Harry is IN there! They need help!”

“Snape’s got it under control! They’ll be out in no time!”

“NO THEY WON’T!” Ginny raged, “HE NEEDS MY HELP! I HAVE TO HELP HIM!”

“How’d y’know?”

“I CAN FEEL IT!” she shouted, her voice now hoarse, “HE NEEDS HELP, HE’S TELLING ME SO!”

“GINNY! HAGRID!” came a voice from the field. Moving through the trees, they saw Hermione, her eyes wide with fear.

“They’ve killed Moody!” she said, “They’ve killed Moody, and I can’t find Ron!”

“Harry needs help, Hermione!” Ginny said. Could none of them understand?

“Everyone needs help, Ginny!” the girl replied.

“We’ve got ter calm down, girls,” Hagrid said, “We’re not gonna git anywhere wit’ all this panickin’.”

“Where do we start, Hagrid?!?” Hermione asked, “There’s three of us, twenty Death Eaters, and a burning prison!”

“The two of you, make a break fer the prison. I’ll take care o’ the Death Eaters.”

“But…Hagrid, what if they…”

“GO NOW!” the giant grumbled, and they didn’t need telling twice. Leaping up, they hid behind the nearest tree. All of the Death Eaters seemed to have moved away from the doorway to the prison, which was now completely covered in flame. Checking a final time, the two girls made a break for the door. Summoning up as much power as possible, the girls muttered the Aguamenti charm. After another incantation, the flames had disappeared. Kicking the door open, Ginny and Hermione turned away as a wall of fire hit them. Escaping from it with only a few singed hairs, they began to trudge through the burning prison. Stumbling over a few bodies, one that they recognized as little Professor Flitwick, they began to call out the names of those they loved.

”HARRY!”

“LUNA!”

“MUM!”

“FRED!”

“DAD!”

”GEORGE!”

Ginny’s foot hit something. She looked down, and let out a shriek. It was Luna, coughing but not completely conscious, her life being sucked away from her slowly. She was near a wall, and Ginny squinted. There were three figures braced up against it.

“Harry?” she called out. She was answered with a cough. Then, stumbling toward her, he appeared.

“Ginny,” he coughed, “We’ve got to get out of here. Bellatrix surprised us…she…”

“Save it for later, Harry,” she said, and she took his hand. Then, rushing over to the wall, she grabbed her mother’s hand and then her father’s.

“Where are the twins?” she asked frantically.

“THEY’RE HERE!” called Hermione from behind her. She was supporting Fred on her left shoulder and George on her right. Ginny felt Harry’s hand slip out from her grasp. He leaned over and gathered Luna up in his arms, coughing as he did so.

“Let’s go,” he replied, and began to follow them out the opening that the girls had created.

“IF THERE ARE ANY SURVIVORS,” Hermione bellowed over the roar of the fire, “THERE IS AN OPENING NEAR THE FRONT DOOR! GET OUT IF YOU CAN!”

Keeping their heads low, the group made its way to the front door and out into the night air. Those that had been trapped inside collapsed onto the grass, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air. Harry clutched his chest in pain. Ginny offered her hand to him, and helped him to his feet. He kissed her on the lips, and then turned away to cough again.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Snape was right about that power,” Harry said, “It comes in pretty useful.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“I’m right here.”

Ginny and Harry turned around, and the rest of the Weasley family and Hermione looked up. Snape was marching toward them, coughing and limping. Blood was oozing down his leg as he reached them. Hagrid followed closely behind.

“I stumbled on my way out,” Snape said, “Scraped it on the stone walkway.”

“Did anyone else come out with you?” Harry asked. Snape nodded.

“Mr. Longbottom managed to escape with me,” he said, “along with many others who rushed out in a panic. I’m fairly sure I saw Miss Brown and Miss Patil, among many.”

“Good,” Harry replied, “That’s good. Where’d they go?”

“Into the trees, I suppose,” he told him firmly.

“Good.”

”Perhaps it’s time the good news ceased,” came a cold voice from behind them, and Harry felt that a wand was pointing at the back of his head. Turning slowly, he found himself once again staring at Bellatrix Lestrange, but she was not alone. There were at least fifteen Death Eaters behind her, each with their wands raised.

“We’ve already been through this, Bella,” Harry told her, “Voldemort won’t be pleased when he learns that you killed me.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” she said, “I’m not going to kill any of you, right now. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Then what do you intend to do?” Ginny asked. Bellatrix laughed, and the Death Eaters behind her inched up a bit. Then, she moved so quickly that Harry didn’t have time to react. She seized Ginny and pulled her into the crowd, her wand pointing at her. She yanked her head back, and Ginny let out a gasp of pain. She didn’t whimper, though, nor did she cry. She merely stood, grunting but still. Harry whipped his wand out.

“Go ahead,” Bellatrix said, “See if you’re faster than I am. By the time your curse hits me, your little girlfriend here will be dead as well.”

“Let her go!” Harry demanded, but Bellatrix merely laughed.

“Please,” Mrs. Weasley begged, “Please, let her go, Bellatrix! Please…take me instead! Please!”

“Let her go, Bella,” Snape said, and Bellatrix cackled again.

“Make me,” she said. Harry heard the two Weasley parents whimper, another plea came from Fred. Hermione’s head dropped, even though her eyes continued to scan the crowd for any sign of Ron.

“Take me,” he uttered, and Bellatrix smiled.

“No, Harry!” Ginny replied, and Bellatrix stuck her wand to her throat as though she would puncture it.

“Let them all go, let them all walk away, and you can take me to him,” Harry said, “You’ll be honored for eternity as his greatest servant. He’ll reward you for it. Let her go, and take me to him.”

“Don’ t do this,” Ginny told him, but Bellatrix had already flung the girl at him. He caught her in his arms, and then kissed her quickly. The Death Eater moved forward and seized his arm, yanking him away. He heard them laugh as she summoned ropes from her wand and bound Harry’s hands. Then, she pulled him into her and brought her mouth to his ear.

“You’re a fool, you know,” she said, and she gave him an evil chuckle, “Did you honestly think that I would put much store in your promise? You don’t know me very well, Potter.”

And she raised her wand. Harry struggled and shouted, but there was nothing he could do. The Killing Curse shot through the air, aimed directly at Ginny. Yet it wouldn’t hit the girl. Instead, someone else would rush in and stop it with his own body. Hermione screamed as Severus Snape’s body fell to the ground, his eyes open and unseeing. Bellatrix, taken aback by the heroic effort but pleased with the outcome nonetheless, leaned her head back and laughed.

“NO!” Harry screamed, but she had him bound and pulled him back into the crowd. Handing him over to Dolohov, she placed her hands on her hips. Then, she turned around and began to walk away.

“Oh,” she said, and she turned around, “I believe this is also yours.”

She snapped her fingers, and a Death Eater came forward, Ron held in his hands. He shoved him at Hermione, and the boy fell at her feet. His skin was as pale as death, with a slight blue tinge in his cheeks. Blood trickled down his mouth, and there was a large bruise forming around his left eye. He had been beaten, his body abused by multiple Death Eaters. Yet, Hermione saw his chest move up and down, and it was shallow, but she could hear him breathing. The same could not be said for Snape. She looked back up, searching for Harry. Ginny did the same, but they were both too late. In the time that it had taken Ron to hit the ground, Bellatrix had given an order. The group, along with their captive, had vanished into thin air. He was gone, taken away to face the destiny that had been set down for him since his first year of birth.

The rain hit his face and splashed onto his glasses, soaking his clothes. He began to shiver from the cold. He could feel Bellatrix pulling him along, and he had to obey her shoving and pushing.

“I can always go back and finish the job,” she told him when he showed signs of pulling away. He looked up. The landscape was familiar to him, though he hadn’t been there for at least three years. The graveyard, in which Cedric had been killed and his life permanently changed, was still as horrible as it had been when he was fourteen. He looked up to see the old Riddle house on the hill, a light on in the upstairs window. It seemed to take an eternity to get up to the front steps, but he felt himself go through the door and into the house.

There were no lights or candles, making it difficult to see. Bellatrix led him up the stairs, her wand digging into his backbone. She turned him to the right, where a closed door stood mocking him, the light leaking out from the bottom crack. Bellatrix shoved it open with her hand, and pushed him in.

“What is it now, Bellatrix?” called that familiar, high-pitched voice.

“I have brought Potter, my Lord,” she said, “We found him alive with his friends in Azkaban. He tried to thwart our plans, but we stopped him. He is here now. I, your most loyal and faithful servant, have brought him to you”

Harry watched as the figure in front of the fire turned around. He saw the white fingers, long, slender, and spindly like spiders. He saw the black robe that covered the ghostly white body, and looked into the red eyes for a few moments before snapping his eyes to the floor.

“Well done, Bellatrix,” Voldemort uttered in the high-pitched voice that had haunted him for years.

“Thank you sir,” she cooed, “Thank you.”

“So,” he hissed, “The Boy Who Lived is resurrected again.”

His wand was raised, and Harry felt himself scream as the Cruciatus Curse hit his body yet again.

“I hope you’re ready, Harry,” his tormentor muttered as Harry thrashed around on the floor, “I intend to have my fun before I send you on to meet your parents. Enjoy the treat that have in store for you. And no, do not expect to escape this time. I am through watching you come back from the dead.”

From outside, the Death Eaters could hear Harry’s screams as he was hit again with the torture curse. The ravens that had stopped to rest in the trees took to the skies, one landing on the windowsill. It was, again, another omen. The bird cawed loudly as the screaming ceased for a moment. Then, without even allowing the creature to take a single breath, it began again. And it continued on…and on…and on.

Voldemort’s laughter filled the chamber as Harry writhed on the floor, the pain growing unbearable. His eyes shut in agony, and he began to twitch during breaks in the torture. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move. All that he was able to do was scream as the Cruciatus Curse drove further into his being.

“That a boy, Harry,” Voldemort jibed, “Take it like a man. How proud your parents would be. If only they could be here to watch you die.”

He stopped momentarily, and Harry heard him walk around to where he was lying. Kneeling down, he brought his evil, death white face up to Harry. His vision blurry, Harry could only focus on the bright, red eyes that were staring at him intently, like a cobra studying it’s victim. The Dark Lord didn’t speak. Instead, he just looked deep into Harry’s emerald eyes, reading the suffering in his mind. There was nothing that the boy could hide anymore. His brain was numb, his thoughts jumbled. He couldn’t concentrate on staying awake, let alone closing his mind off to the Legilimency.

“Give it up, Potter,” cackled the tormentor, “Release yourself from this situation. Just beg me to kill you, beg me to take it away, and I will oblige you. There is no escaping now, Harry. Give in.”

Harry willed himself to shut his eyes. His mind was agreeing with Voldemort, begging him to allow the man to kill him. He welcomed the idea of dying, inviting the coldness of it to sweep him away. Yet, in some way, he knew he would never give in. If this torture killed him, it killed him. He would fight until the very end, and if he weren’t given the opportunity to fight, then he would swallow everything that Voldemort threw at him. His mouth was dry, but in the back he found the last bit of saliva, and spit it into the face of the murderer. Rising up, Harry heard him cackle.

“Still not ready to die, boy?” Voldemort bellowed, “Still foolish and stubborn? Obedience, as I have already told you, is something that you must learn before you die. It’s a shame that the Imperius Curse does not work on you. Perhaps a larger dose of pain will persuade you to give in.”

He went to raise his wand again, and the Torture curse was out of his lips once more. However, it did not hit Harry this time. The boy limply raised his hand, forming it into a boundary. The spell seemed to bounce away from the outstretched hand, and then slung back. It hit Voldemort square in the chest, and he fell to the floor, screaming and howling in pain. Bellatrix, who throughout the scene had been laughing against the wall, dropped to her knees.

“Master!” she called out, and she moved her wand to cancel the curse. Coughing and sputtering, Voldemort hoisted himself up and looked over at Harry, murder in his eyes. With great difficulty, Harry lifted himself up and used his legs to slide up against the wall. He was unable to stand up, unable to bring himself to his feet and stare at Voldemort directly in the eye. He was not unsure that something amazing had just happened. Without using his wand, which was still tucked away and unseen by either Voldemort or Bellatrix, he had been able to stop the curse aimed at him. Inside, he felt that he knew why. Focusing his mind on the one person he truly cared about, Harry braced his back against the wall.

“How’s it feel?” he said hoarsely.

“I’m not about to go into how it feels,” Voldemort said, “I’m not spending any more time talking with you about how I feel or how I am going to kill you.”

Standing up, and shoving Bellatrix’s assisting arms away, Voldemort snarled. Whipping his wand out from under his robes, he made his way over to where Harry sat. The boy looked up at him defiantly, and Voldemort hissed at him.

“ Sectumsempra!” he uttered, and again it backfired. A gash appeared on Harry’s cheek, but the conjurer again absorbed the rest of the spell. Stumbling backward, Voldemort grew paler as the blood began to drain out of the various slashes that had opened across his body. Bellatrix screamed as he hit the wall, and the floor began to grow red. Harry smirked as the Death Eater began to stitch up her master, who was weakened, but still not unconscious.

“Give it up, Riddle,” Harry jeered, but Voldemort refused. Angry now, and with hunger in his eyes, Voldemort lunged at Harry. He grabbed him around the throat, refusing to use magic. Harry began to choke and sputter, the air slowly being squeezed from his body. Voldemort, however, began to feel the pain of his own hands too, and soon was forced to remove his hands in order to gain his own breath back. Coughing, the two of them glared at one another.

“What is this?” Voldemort asked Harry hoarsely.

“Something that you would never understand,” he replied. Then, his mind completely focused on Ginny, he forced himself to stand up. Coughing again, and rubbing his sore neck, Harry leaned against the wall. Then, he pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Voldemort.

“You cannot kill me,” Voldemort replied, “You will not succeed. I’ll beat you to it.’

Moving at a pace that Harry almost did not see, Voldemort had his wand out. He uttered the Killing Curse faster than the previous time that Harry had encountered it. However this time, the Dark Lord was injured. His aim was off and the spell bounced off of the wall and hit the floor, causing stone fragments to bounce everywhere. He tried again, and Harry felt something sharp graze his arm, but was left unhurt.

“It touched your body,” Voldemort shouted, “How did it not kill you?!?”

“You know nothing,” Harry replied, “Obviously, you haven’t learned from your previous attempts on my life.”

“I WILL KILL YOU!” Voldemort bellowed.

“You can’t,” Harry said, “I understand now, and so you won’t be able to. I was protected by one person’s love before, and it was enough. Now that I understand how to use the power that was given to me by my mother, you cannot defeat me. If you try, you will bring about your end.”

“Then kill me, Potter,” Voldemort urged, a sense of insanity in his tone, “The prophecy says that neither of us can live while the other survives.”

“There are things worse than death.”

“You’re a fool.’

Voldemort cast the spell again, and this time, his aim was true. It hit Harry directly in the chest. However, the boy did not fall. A bright pink light shot out of the end of his own wand, and Voldemort’s eyes opened wide as it drove into him. Laughing as he fell, Harry watched Voldemort grow red, struggling for air. He fell to his knees, and then began to twitch on the floor.

“What is this torture?” he shouted as Bellatrix struggled to help him. Harry’s vision was growing dark as he used the strength that was keeping him alive to answer him.

“It’s foreign to you,” he gasped, “It’s what you never felt. It’s love and compassion that are killing you, Voldemort.”

“I don’t want to die,” Voldemort sputtered, and then he grew silent. He was not dead, just suffering as the spell flew through his body, taking over. Harry was conscious to hear him scream as it found his heart and wrapped tightly around it, squeezing until it gave up the fight. With a final gasp, Lord Voldemort’s eyes grew dim. His mouth hung open, and his body went limp. With a final gasp, he was gone, finished forever. Bellatrix let out a moan, calling out more in fear than in sorrow. The authorities that would find her would kill her now. With the Dark Lord dead, surviving Aurors would begin to round up the followers. In anger, she stood up. Whipping around, she aimed to finish Harry off. What she found was enough to make her gasp. Where Harry’s body had been moments before, there was a small raven, staring up at her and cocking its head side to side. The boy was nowhere to be found. Looking around the room, there was no essence of him left. Calling out in anger, and feeling that she was going insane, Bellatrix dropped to her knees again. All she could do now was wait until they found her.

The wind shifted in the air as Ginny and the rest of the survivors marched along the empty field. Exhausted and terribly hungry, the prisoners that they had freed were rejoicing in silence, happy that they had been released. However, an air of anxiety had also swept over them, and many were thinking of Harry and what was happening. Ginny’s head drooped down as she walked beside Fred, who was desperately trying to cheer her up. He told her about the new plans he and George had formulated for the shop.

“We’re going to make this new charm that turns people into candy,” he explained, “You can eat your own fingers and toes, and then drink another potion to make them grow back.”

“That sounds great, George,” she said.

“Fred.”

“Right.”

He squeezed her hand affectionately, but she didn’t feel it. Her mind was focused on Harry…where he was, whom he was with, and if he was still alive. Slipping his hand from her grip, Fred gave her one last sympathetic look before walking away.

“I don’t know if she’s going to be okay,” Fred told Ron, who was walking with Hermione and giving Ginny proper space.

“She’s worried about him, Fred,” Ron told him, “He was capture right in front of her. All she has known for the past few months is torture, and she knows exactly what he’ll be going through right now. She’s struggling with herself, blaming herself for taking him back. He told her what would happen, and she feels that it’s her fault.”

“God,” Fred said, “She can’t hold all of that up inside of her.”

“Just give her space,” Ron replied, “Let her clear her mind.”

“She’ll be okay, Fred,” Hermione told him, and he nodded. He went to walk with his parents, his mother still struggling to walk. She had been injured a few weeks ago in the prison, her leg crushed by a stone that had been thrown at her, and she limped. Arthur supported her with his body, as did George.

Hermione watched as Ginny stopped walking. She stared ahead, as if she had seen something there to upset her. Then, she began to run, jogging at first and then breaking into a short sprint.

“Ginny?” she called after her, unsure of what to think. The unstable mindset into which Ginny had slipped was enough to make her see things, and Hermione was sure something was happening to her friend. She let go of Ron’s hand and followed her. He was quickly on her heels, now seeing his sister running.

Suddenly, all three of them stopped. There, lying in the middle of the forest, was Harry Potter, unmoving with his eyes closed.

“Harry?” Ginny called softly, and then louder. “HARRY?”

He opened his eyes, slowly and with great effort, it seemed. He smiled when he saw Ginny.

“Hi,” he gasped, slowly and barely audible to the rest of them.

“How did you get here?” she asked, and she leaned down so that she could hear him. He was shaking, she saw now, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“What happened?”

“I had to see you,” he told her, “I had to see you before I…”

Realizing what he was talking about, Ginny shook her head.

“No,” she said, “No, I’ve been focusing. I’ve been thinking about you, and I’ve been focusing my love to save you. You’ll be all right, Harry. You’ll be okay; you’re going to be fine.”

“It’s my time, Ginny,” he said, “It’s…it’s time for me to go. The power won’t protect me now. I’ve finished what needed to be done. It’s..t-ti-ime.”

He stopped there, and his voice faded away. Ginny watched his eyes roll back and then close. His limbs stopped moving, and he became still.

“NO!” she screamed, “NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!”

“HARRY!” Hermione sobbed, tears rolling down her eyes. Ron merely stood, stunned, not believing any of it. Ginny rocked him back and forth, shaking him. Yet he did not stir, he did not shudder. It had happened. Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort…and sacrificed himself in the fight.

“What are you doing here, son?” the man asked, and Harry blinked his eyes quickly.

“Dad?” he uttered, not believing what he was seeing.

“Yeah,” James Potter answered, “Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I…I think that I…”

“You must have,” James finished, “Or you are dying…you have to be giving up to be here.”

“James?” came a voice from behind Harry, and he turned to see the unforgettable figure of his mother, coming toward him. She froze when she saw her son.

“No,” she gasped, “No, you can’t be here.”

“I am, mum,” he answered, confused, “I closed my eyes, and then I was here.”

“Go back,” said another voice, and Sirius appeared beside him, “You aren’t supposed to be here. Not yet.”

“The spell didn’t work between Ginny and me,” he told them, “She couldn’t save me. It was my time.”

“No, Harry,” Snape said, appearing next to Lily. He saw the Potions Master gazing at his father, loathing him. Even in eternity, Snape would never have the love of the person he wanted. Still, he cared about Harry. “You aren’t supposed to be here. Go back.”

“I can’t just go back!” he exclaimed.

“You can,” Lily said, “I have wanted to see you for so long. I can wait longer. You are too young to be here forever.”

“What’s all of this, then?”

Harry turned, now completely and totally disoriented. He spotted a tall wizard, a staff held in his hand. Lily and James bowed their heads, and Snape nodded at him. He came down from the stairs that he was standing on, walking toward the small cluster of people that had surrounded Harry.

“Is someone speaking of going back?” the man asked, “Speaking of breaking the ancient code of death?”

“Yes sir,” Snape answered for Harry, “Yes, we are.”

“That’s not going to happen. He’s staying with us.”

With every breath that Harry took, James’s face grew more anxious. It was quite clear that something was happening to him. He could feel it. A kind of energy, which had been nearly absent since he had arrived in this place, was beginning to ebb into his being. He felt himself coming back to life, feeling good again. His body was telling him that it was okay…but his mind knew better. His mother and father seemed worried by his brightening eyes and straightening shoulders. He turned back to the mysterious man with the staff, whose face had hardened into a veritable “NO!”

“He is not returning to Life,” the man said, his hand gripping the staff harder. His eyes narrowed, as if he were attempting to lure daggers from them and shoot them at Harry. Another surge of energy hit the boy, and he took a deep breath, attempting not to relish it.

“Bend the rules, Nicolas,” Sirius demanded, and Harry turned to look at him. He had forgotten how much he had missed that voice, that harsh tone with a touch of fatherly love. He saw the familiar black eyes, at peace with the world yet on fire at this very moment. He was as angry as he had been when Bellatrix had fired that curse at him. Harry loved that anger, adored that fire. He wouldn’t mind staying here if he would be able to enjoy that everyday for the rest of eternity.

“I will not, Sirius,” said the man called Nicolas, “We’ve been through this before, and we’ll go through it again. Now, I’ve been generous with this boy. I repelled him the last four times he tried to come here. I will not do it again. He’s inside now, his purpose is fulfilled, and he is staying here.”

“Wait,” Harry bellowed, “Other four times? What…what are you talking about?”

“Later, sweetheart,” Lily interrupted, “Don’t waste your breath right now.”

“But…” he started, but James shook his head to silence him. His brow ruffled, Harry shut his mouth and remained silent.

“He is seventeen-years-old, Nicolas,” Lily told him, “He cannot be finished. There’s a lot for him to live for. He has yet to experience a normal life. That’s what awaits him up there.”

“He’s never going to be normal, Lily,” Nicolas huffed, “He will always be the boy who killed Lord Voldemort. He’s never going to be normal.”

“He can have a life,” James retorted, “He can spend his time worrying about small things. He can fall in love without thinking about the girl being attacked. He can do a lot of things now.”

“No, he can’t,” said the man, “He is here now. There is nothing else to say on this matter.”

“I have to go back,” Harry said, and everyone turned their heads toward him.

“Harry, you just need to…”

“NO!” he shouted, “NO! I WON’T BE QUIET! I’VE ALWAYS KEPT MY MOUTH SHUT, ALWAYS SHUT MY MOUTH WHEN I’VE BEEN TOLD TO! NOW, THIS IS MY LIFE WE’RE TALKING ABOUT AND I WILL HAVE A SAY IN WHAT HAPPENS TO IT!”

“Okay, then,” Remus said, his eyes pointed upwards toward Nicolas, “He means business, Flamel.”

Putting the information that he was dealing with Nicolas Flamel into the back of his mind, Harry took another deep breath and looked up at the withered old man.

“I’ve got to make this snappy,” he said, “I can feel the life slipping out of me…into me…whatever.”

“I have other matters to attend to,” Flamel spat, “Get on with it, son.”

“I have a reason to live,” Harry told him again, “Three reasons or more, actually. Hermione. We’ll start there. She’s the smartest witch of her age, you know. She’s been with me since we were eleven. Saved my life on a number of occasions.”

“Made a note of that,” Flamel interjected, “Couldn’t take her when she was fifteen because of it, actually.”

“You were going to take her when she was fifteen?” Harry asked, frightened.

“In the Department of Mysteries, when that curse hit her chest,” he said, “I was close to killing her with pain, and then pulled her back.”

“You insufferable…” Harry began.

“Harry!” Lily scolded.

“Anyway,” Harry said, “as I was saying. Hermione is headed to great things, that I know. I need to be there to support her through all of that. She was always there for me, pulling me out of tough situations and teaching me how to do things to save my life. Ron’s next, I guess. We’re best friends, him and I. We go through everything together. He needs me to keep his head on his shoulders. He needs me to keep being his best friend. We’re supposed to rant about women together, and be each other’s best man. When the world fails us, and when others fail us, we’ve got one another’s back.”

“Nice argument, son,” Flamel said, “But it’s not enough. You have five minutes of life left on Earth. Just wait until the energy returns to your body, and then move on.”

“I’m not finished, thank you,” Harry roared, “You’re going to let me finish my plea, and then you can do with me what you will. Now, where was I?”

“Ron,” Sirius said, and Harry could hear the pride in his voice.

“Right, him. Well, I think I’m done with him. He and Hermione should be enough. But they aren’t everything. No, everything comes next.”

“What’s everything?” asked Flamel.

“Ginny Weasley. She’s the reason for breathing, the reason for laughing, and the reason for me to go back. Her eyes are like an Irish dream, her hair as red as a setting sun. Her voice is like a thousand glorious bells, ringing loud and clear throughout the land. I love her more than I have ever loved anything in my life. She is what made me believe I could defeat Lord Voldemort. She is what saved me and allowed me to do it. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I want that to be a long time. I want to marry her, and have children with her, and grow old with her. Please…don’t let me abandon her. Don’t let me die on her. Not again.”

The five spirits that stood before him were speechless, utterly amazed at the words of this simple seventeen-year-old boy. Lily had tears in her eyes, happy now that her son had found what many people spent their entire life looking for. James just smiled. Sirius and Remus looked close to clapping. Flamel, however, still looked unsure of what to do. Energy was beginning to stir in Harry again.

“You owe me for giving you what you wanted,” Harry told the man standing in front of him, “I destroyed that stone of yours, and you got to move on with…I guess, you could say, life.”

Flamel nodded his head, and shuffled the staff in his hands. He studied the small orb that sat on the top, filled with a kind of green light that was nearly mesmerizing. Harry stopped looking at it.

“I’ll stop the dying process,” Flamel said, “You will be able to return to your body in an hour. In half of that time, you’ll hear the cries of those you love beginning to fill your ears. If they are ready to let you go, you will come back here. Do you understand?”

“Thank you,” Harry said, and his parents repeated those words to the man. Flamel turned around and returned to the shadows.

“You did good, Harry,” Remus said, and followed Flamel. Sirius began to leave, but Harry shouted “NO!”

“It’s all right, Harry,” Sirius said, “You’ve got to let go of me now. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. Just keep thinking of me from time to time. You know you’ll see me again.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling his throat constrict and his eyes fill with tears. Lily placed her hand on her son’s shoulder, and looked into the eyes that mirrored hers.

“You’ve given me a lot of scares over the years, Harry,” she told him, and she stroked his face.

“What exactly did he mean when he said that I’ve been here four times?” he asked her.

“You’ve walked past us about four times,” she told him, “That’s why you remembered the veil when you were in the Department two years ago. You could hear us whispering because we’d called you several times before. Flamel repelled you all four times because he knew you weren’t ready. Voldemort stood in the way.”

“Sometimes, I was probably wishing I could go in,” Harry said, “I don’t remember coming by, though. When was it?”

“Once on that night when you were a baby. Next was after you defeated Riddle,” she said, “You lost consciousness. Then, the third time was in the chamber, as the life drained out of you from that snake bite. The last was when you were attacked by the dementors in third year and lost your consciousness as well. Every time, something brought you back. It was your destiny. This time, it was you.”

Harry felt himself being pulled. His feet floated from the ground a little bit. A voice rang out in his head.

“Come back, please come back,” it said.

“She’s calling you,” James told him, “She’s calling you up there.”

“Ginny, let him go. Let him go.” Another voice.

“NO!” he shouted up towards the sky, “GINNY! HOLD ON! HOLD ON TO ME!”

“I’m not letting go, Hermione!”

“Good girl.”

For the next half hour, he would listen to the voice of Ginny, asking him to come back. He tried to go faster, but the realm held him fast. He was coming, but slower than he wanted to. He could sense her accepting his death, and he kept his mind focused on hers.

“Don’t let go,” he kept saying, “Don’t let me go. Not yet.”

Then, he heard his father. His father, standing far below him, waved a hand at him.

“Goodbye son,” he said.

“See you later?” Harry shouted down at him.

“Much later!” he replied, and it echoed up at him. Harry’s head broke through a surface. It was much like swimming up through water, and breath came to him as if he hadn’t breathed in hours. He gasped, reached up to grab the air. His fingers collided with hair. The hair was Ginny’s, and it flowed through his fingers like water.

“Hey,” he grunted, and his voice was forced. It took all the strength he had to get his words out. From the energy he had had in the realm, it was all the more absent now that he was back on Earth. He coughed, and it scratched his throat.

“Stop doing this to me, God,” Ginny shouted at the sky, “STOP MAKING ME BELIEVE HE’S COMING BACK!”

“I AM back, Ginny,” he choked, and he reached for her sweater, “There’s one more fight left in me. We’ve gotten through this entire thing by luck, but we got through it.”

“This isn’t happening again,” she said, still in denial, “It’s not real. It was real the last couple of times, but it’s not right now. I know he’s gone. Let me accept it!”

“This is real,” Harry repeated, and he grabbed her and kissed her. Coming to her senses, Ginny’s eyes grew wide in amazement. She found that she couldn’t speak. She gazed into his eyes, his vivid green eyes that she never thought would open again.

“You aren’t alive,” she said, but she knew that he was, “You…this…AH!”

She pounced on him, and felt the wind knock out of his body. Gasping and sputtering, he coughed and showed her that he couldn’t handle what she was doing.

“Oh, Harry! I’m sorry, I just…oh, Harry!” she cried. She kissed his cheek and neck, his lips and his forehead.

“HERMIONE!” she called, “RON! HERMIONE! COME QUICKLY! HE’S ALIVE!”

“Ginny,” he said quietly, “Ginny, before they get here, I’ve got to ask you something. It’s…I’ve got to ask you something.”

“What?” she asked him, “What is it?”

“Will you marry me?”

Her eyes could only tell him yes. Her arms wrapped around his weakened body. Yet in a few weeks, that body would heal. In a few weeks, destiny would have been fulfilled. In a few weeks, Harry Potter would begin to experience being a person. An ordinary person. Life did not end on the day that it was supposed to. Instead, it began anew. The chapter that is known as “Storm or Darkness” is now over. The chapter called “Life” begins here. It continues on until the day that Harry meets Sirius, Lupin, and his parents again. That day, however, is far away. Very, very far away. The End