Waiting for the End

The lead up was the dullest part. We spent months doing nothing but search for the remaining Horcruxes. Every time we expected a battle, none came, and every time we didn't expect one, at least one Order member would end up dead. It was a confusing time…nobody knew what was going on anywhere, and if you tried to find out, you'd usually find yourself even more confused than when you started. Eventually, we gave up trying to ask for information, and found it ourselves. Finally, we finished, and He knew.

We didn't quite know when the battle would start. It was that day, we were sure of it, but when the first spell would be cast was a complete mystery to us. Every time somebody did so much as mutter a simple lighting spell, we would all shiver a little. Who knew when one of those simple spells would be the one to start the last war, the one in which I would have to find and kill the most horrible Wizard to ever live. If I didn't succeed, everything in the world would be lost. That's a lot of pressure for a seventeen year old.

But somehow I was ready for it. I guess I'll never know why, but while we waited in the Shack for somebody to tell us to go to the Ministry, I felt somehow as if I could really do it. Maybe I really could kill him, instead of the other way around.

Ron and Hermione were the bravest, though. They stuck with me even when I asked them not to, and they knew that the smart thing to do would be to listen to me. Instead, they followed me through everything I did, never stopping to question me. It wasn't just them, either. Most of the Order members stayed at Hogwarts, trying their best to get us any supplies we needed during our quest. I call it a quest because that's what it was. It wasn't an adventure. It was a job. Still, there were many others who accompanied me during this job. Those that didn't stay at Hogwarts with the Aurors followed me just as Ron and Hermione did: Neville, Luna, the Twins, Angelina, Dean, Seamus, Terry, Cho, Lavender, Katie, Justin, Ron, Hermione and I. We were a team, something that Neville and Luna worked hard to make us remember. No matter what, we had each other, and we all knew that would do anything to make sure all of us got out alive.

And there were others, still. Every so often we'd come upon our fellow students, who would go a while with us if they knew something that would be helpful to our journey. Padma and Parvati popped up quite often, in fact, even though their parents wouldn't allow them to stay. But the two girls had become quite proficient at apparation, and came whenever their parents were not home to stop them. Hannah Abbott was also quite impressive. She joined us for about a week at the beginning, until her father pulled her back out of the group, claiming that he did not want her to end up like her mother had. Still, she provided us with a lot of insight on Death Eaters, which she found out from the Ministry after her mother died. Susan Bones came with her, and was quite a support to me, us having so much in common. Her parents made the mistake of not forcing her to leave us. Susan was killed by Voldemort, just as her Aunt was. Justin still hasn't quite gotten over the loss.

There were a few deaths, many of which I wasn't even able to mention until recently. George left the group one day, apparating the Hogsmeade so he could go to the castle for something. There was a battle that day, and when he came back, Fred had died. Angelina was crying over his body. George couldn't even speak. I could see the pain in his eyes, which remained dry, and he insisted that he would be alright. I remember the way Ron did cry, thinking he was weaker than his brother. George told him that it was entirely opposite…Ron was right to cry, and George just wasn't ready to accept the fact that his twin was dead.

Lavender died. It was near the end, a few days before the battle. There wasn't even any reason for her to die. She just happened to be in full view of a Death Eater, who just couldn't pass up the chance to get in a kill that day. Dean nearly died…I think he was ready to, after Lavender's death, but Seamus didn't let him. The Death Eater who injured him left him in the middle of the small battlefield, lying on top of a bush. Even though we weren't sure if all of the Death Eaters had left yet, Seamus still went out to find his friend. I watched from afar as he ran his arms under Dean's body, carrying him like a child back to the group. Dean seemed to protest as Seamus was picking him up, worried for his friend's safety, but Seamus continued on. When they got back to the base, Hermione performed a few spells to close Dean's wounds, and he got better and better as the days progressed.

Somehow, though, throughout all of this, there was a sort of calm surrounding all of us. We all knew that this part of the quest would pale in comparison to the end: The Final Battle. I guess you could say it was…plain. Boring, even. I guess that was because we spent so much time telling ourselves how certain things that had happened didn't matter, or didn't happen, instead of accepting them as part of the adventure.

Finally, we were there, in the Shrieking Shack. Soon we would be fighting.

The thirteen of us waited in what looked like it was once a kitchen, with many chairs and ledges in the room. Everything was broken somehow. There were torn covers on the furniture, which I knew had been done by Remus Lupin during his years at Hogwarts. There were some very old photographs on the floor of people I had never seen before. It was like sitting in a ghost house. Hermione stood, leaning her elbows on an island in the center of the room, the rest of us sitting closely around the small table. Each of us picked at the food Hermione had managed to Transfigure from some plants Neville had decided would be safe for us to eat. It wasn't much, but it would hold us over. I thought about Ginny throughout the silence, wondering how the rest of the Weasley's were taking the news of Fred's death. How she was taking it. I decided that they were mourning comfortably, not letting it take over them too much. However, I knew that that wasn't reality, and only something I had conjured up in my imagination. I looked around the table, seeing what the others were doing. Cho caught my eye. Her eyes were red, but she did not allow herself to cry. Nobody spoke. Then, out of the blue, Seamus looked at Dean, who nodded back to him. Seamus turned to the rest of the group, who immediately gave him their attention, bored with the current proceedings.

"I kind of want to do something…" he began awkwardly, the silence still very apparent. Hermione turned around and leaned her back against the island, in her way giving him permission to continue his speech. "If you don't want to do this, it's alright, but…I'd like to say a prayer."

There was a silence, nobody protesting, but nobody giving him a cue to say the prayer either. I spoke. "I think we could all do with a bit of prayer right now."

Seamus nodded to me, seeming thankful. "Aye," he muttered. "D'you all know the Lord's Prayer?"

"Not entirely," Katie admitted. Seamus pursed his lips for a moment, wetting them.

"I'll say it, then," he decided. He placed his two hands on the table, motioning for Katie and Dean beside him to take them. They did so, and continued the chain around the table. I reached up for Hermione's hand, who seemed to think for a minute before taking it. Finally, when we were all holding hands, we closed our eyes. Seamus began the prayer. "Our Father, which art in heaven. H-" he stopped.

"What is it?" I asked, having never heard the prayer. Seamus looked as if he could have laughed at his next statement.

"Hallowed," he said, "the next word was hallowed." I smiled, a little sadly, as he continued the prayer, saying each line as slowly and peacefully as could. "Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come..."

"Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…" Hermione joined Seamus. "Give us this day our daily bread and forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors." I closed my eyes tighter. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us-" I heard Hermione's voice crack at the next line, "-from evil. For thine is the kingdom. The power and the glory. Forever and ever. Amen."

"Amen," we all chimed in together. I opened my eyes and looked around, noticing that the others were doing the same. I also noticed that none of us had broken our connection, taking their hands back. After a few moments, Hermione let go. She turned around once again to rest on the island. Suddenly, I heard Luna speak.

"I think we should all say something," she told the group, still grasping Neville's hand as an example to the rest of the group. "You know, just in case." The last thing was completely unnecessary for her to say, but we all still understood it.

"Like what?" Ron asked, curiously.

"Whatever you want."

"Alright," I shrugged. I wasn't about to let anybody die without doing what they needed to do. "Who wants to go first?" Terry straightened up, bravely.

"I will." Everybody was silent as they listened to him. "I guess…I don't really have anything to say. I just want to say…good luck."

"Yeah," I echoed, "Me too." The rest of the group nodded, except for Katie, who decided to speak next.

"When I was under the Imperius curse last year, it was the scariest thing that ever happened to me. Then…when I touched the necklace…" she trailed off a little. "I'm really shy," she finally continued. "I don't normally like to be a leader, or in control of anything, but I like to be part of something. Like now. We're all part of something." She smiled, and then fell back into her solemn state. "Then, when I touched the necklace, I felt so...so detached. Like I didn't have any control over what was happening to me. But you helped. Harry then, and everybody else while I was recovering. You were all trying to help me, to help me get better. I…thank you."

"Thank you," I suddenly said, surprising even myself. "Thank you, Katie. I don't know how we could have done this without you." Her smile made my statement worth while. Angelina, who held Katie's hand, squeezed a little bit.

"Like Katie says, we're all a part of something now, whether we want to be or not. And even though some of us…some of us didn't make it, they're still a part of it, too. I think we all just need to remember that." George, who was beside Angelina, seemed to be upset at that statement. He did not speak, but Justin did.

"I don't like snakes," he said. "When I was little, I was bitten by a poisonous one. Somehow - now I know it was because I was magic - I survived. My family always thought it was amazing. And then everything happened with the Basilisk-" I felt Hermione shifting a little behind me, "-and I was even more afraid. Susan was the only person I ever told about all that…what it was like to be petrified, I mean. It was strange…horrible."

"Yeah," Hermione mumbled, still looking away.

"Anyways…that summer, I invited Susan over to my home. My family is very…well off," he shrugged. "We're rich. Susan's wasn't. Her floo-ed over with her parents, so they could meet mine. They found out that they weren't rich. They didn't let her stay." Justin hung his head, still speaking, but his voice was slightly muffled. "I was only twelve, and didn't get it. I remember that I was so angry at them. But then, at the same time, I could barely talk to her when we got back to school. Then her aunt died. Suddenly, it didn't matter what my parents thought. I loved her. Not the way you might think I loved her…she was my closest friend. I'll always love her."

I heard Cho take in a deep breath, and when I looked over at her, I saw that she was crying. "I know what you mean," she said to Justin from across the table. I could tell that she was getting ready to say something very important. "Cedric broke up with me before the Final Task," she told the group. I was entirely surprised. "He told me that he loved me a lot, and that he wanted to stay friends...but that I had to understand what kind of love it was. I guess you could say that it's kind of like what we have," she then smiled, and most of us joined her. Most of us, except for George.

"None of you know this…" he began, eyeing Ron, who was beside him, comfortably. "But Fred and I talked about a lot of stuff the night before he…died, you know?" I could feel Ron shiver a little bit beside me. "I had night watch right after him, so we decided to just spend it together. I guess you could say that it was the first time we had ever really opened up to each other. He told me a lot of stuff…I can't say what it was, but he did…and he said- he said-"

Finally, George had started to cry. He clung to Ron's hand, Ron looking back at him supportively, but still nearly joining into the tears.

"He told me to take care of everybody if something happened to him…especially, you, Ron. He really wanted me to take care of you, make sure you and Ginny ended up alright. And you, Angelina." He pointed to Angelina, who was now also in tears. "He wanted me to tell you that he loved you. He had all these plans for everybody, all these things that he wanted us to do for you, hopefully together. And he said that…whatever happened…it would be okay, because it was supposed to. If one of us got hurt, it was supposed to happen. You know?" Ron nodded, understanding. Angelina gave George a half hug, thanking him. Suddenly, I heard Hermione's voice.

"What is supposed to happen, though?" George looked behind himself at Hermione, who was still facing away from the group.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Hermione stated, her voice shaky, "What if the thing that's supposed to happen isn't what you want it to be?" George shrugged.

"Then you have to work and change it."

"That goes against everything you just said." Hermione seemed suddenly a little angry.

"It doesn't though," George replied strongly. Ron jumped a little bit beside me. "Everybody has a…a destiny…but that doesn't mean it's set in stone. Like, with Harry-" I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable, "-He can either kill…Voldemort…or get killed."

"That's different," Hermione retorted.

"It's not, though. It's like a choice. It's like…there's the destiny that you should have, but you still need to choose to have it."

"So, Fred chose to die," she muttered back, and instantly looked apologetic. "No…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, George. That was the most horrible thing I could have said." George looked entirely upset by the statement, but still forgave her.

"I know. It's okay." I looked back at Hermione, and decided to speak to her.

"What about you, Hermione?"

"What about me?"

"Do you want to say anything?" She thought about this for a second.

"I don't know what I'd say."

"How about what you want to do…when it's over?" Ron spoke up, his face still red from George's speech.

"When it's over?" I heard her question, though I still couldn't see her full face. I suddenly began to watch Ron's face instead, noticing every reaction. "I don't know," she replied. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to do anything. I mean, I want it to end well, and I want to win, but even if we do…"

"What?" Ron looked downward towards the table in front of him, but still spoke strongly enough for Hermione to hear him. The rest of the table was silent, but seemed very interested in their conversation.

"Even if we win, what could I do? This entire year…it's been so long, and so hard, and all I've worked towards is this battle. One battle that's going to change everything. Nothing I could do could ever compare to it."

Then, to the surprise of everybody, Ron stood up. He wiped away his tears with his sleeve, another "RW" sweater, and turned to Hermione. She still faced away from us, but I could see her shoulders tensing up as Ron moved closer to her. He was soon standing exactly in between the table and the island.

"You could marry me."

There was no sound in the room, apart from a very quiet, "Oh!" from Luna. The surprise in her voice seemed to mirror all of our reactions to the statement, and we were all watching Hermione, waiting for her answer. I could help but smile as she picked her arms off of the island and turned around, her hands still holding onto it behind her as if to keep her from falling. She loosened her grip, and took the smallest steps I had ever seen towards Ron. They were soon within one foot of each other, her eyes still wide open in a sort of solemn shock and his eyebrows furrowed nervously.

"Yes," she finally spoke. "Yes, I suppose I could."

Ron slowly pulled Hermione into the tightest hug I had ever seen him give anybody, holding her head to his chest. What followed was something that I knew their relationship had been leading up to since the moment they met. Ron placed his palm onto Hermione's cheek, brushing the hairs from her loose bun off of her face. The two finally shared their first kiss: a soft, fleeting touch between them. It took a while for somebody to break the silence.

"About bloody time." It was so comforting to hear George finally back in good humour, and I think everybody must have realized that, because in the next moment none of us could even begin to contain our glee. There was laughter - real, true laughter - and even Ron and Hermione couldn't help but giggle a little bit.

While the laughter was fading, I saw Seamus and Dean glance at each other once again. Dean raised an eyebrow and Seamus looked somehow exasperated. "You can't be serious," he said, rolling his eyes. The group looked at the two boys, all confused.

"You know I am," Dean replied, looking smug. He noticed the rest of us watching them.

"In fourth year, after the Ball. I bet that they would get together before we graduated. Looks like I won." Ron's eyes widened.

"But…how?"

"What do you mean, how?" Seamus retorted, still looking annoyed. "I don't know how I missed it. I knew it would happen, just not so soon." He reached into his pocket. "How much was it again?"

"Oh, just two galleons."

"Well then, there you go." Seamus pulled out the coins and gave them to his friend, who put them in his own pocket. I noticed his left hand as he did this. It had a long scar running between his index finger and thumb, which then continued over his palm. I had seen it many times before, but was now suddenly curious about it.

"How'd that happen?" he asked, pointing to the hand. Dean looked down at it.

"Oh…this. I've had this forever. It's the reason I write with my right hand." He realized how odd this sounded after seeing the blank looks on the others' faces. "I'm left handed. You never noticed?"

"Not really, no," Seamus answered for me. He looked slightly confused as he spoke, and almost seemed guilty about not noticing it before.

"Oh…well, yeah, I am. I write with my right hand and draw with my left."

"Why don't you write with your left?" Luna asked.

"'Cause it hurts like hell," Dean answered. "I'll never know why…you'd think I'd get used to it, wouldn't you?"

"I always thought you were," Neville joined the conversation. "I noticed it, once, but didn't keep thinking about it. I think it was in third year." Even Dean now seemed quite interested in looking at his hand. I considered something.

"Why don't you just draw with your right hand?"

"It doesn't look as good, I guess. I don't know." Dean didn't seem to know what to say. "I got it a long time ago…I think I must have been seven, because it was at my sister's sixteenth birthday, and she's nine years older than me. Yeah, that makes sense."

"What happened?" I prodded for him to continue.

"We were all just playing around, and one of my brother's dared me to climb up one of the trees we had in my backyard. I did it…it wasn't that smart, really. I fell down right from the top, but managed to grab onto one of the lower branches. It had these little thorns on it, and when I couldn't hold on any longer, it basically slashed through my hand. It wasn't my only injury…" He pulled the neck of his shirt to the side to show another scar on his shoulder. I had seen that one before, too. Dean continued his story. "It's been pretty faded while I've been at Hogwarts, but after…that last battle," he was referring to the Death Eaters, "It's been a lot darker. I know I hit it on something, but I think there's something magical going on with it. Doesn't really matter, I guess."

Hermione left Ron's side to approach Dean. She took his hand from Seamus and began to examine it closely. He allowed this as Terry spoke. "Why do you keep drawing with it?"

"I've tried a lot to draw with my right hand, just so it doesn't hurt. But it doesn't feel right. I don't feel as if I'm doing what I'm drawing justice. I mean, sometimes, if I'm just drawing something stupid, I'll use my right hand. I guess that's what you guys normally see. But then, when I draw people…" Dean pulled his hand out of Hermione's grasp and attempted to stand up. He did so quite weakly, still unable to move perfectly since the battle. He walked to the corner and picked up his bag from the pile the group had created when we walked in. He pulled a large book from it, one which I had seen him using many times before, and then sat back down. "I knew you guys had to see it sometime," he stated, handing it to Seamus. Seamus slowly opened the book while Hermione once again took Dean's hand, looking very curiously at it.

I watched as Seamus flipped through the pages of the book, nobody else brave enough to look over his shoulder. Even Hermione tried to focus solely on Dean's hand, and not a few inches over to what I assumed were sketches. "Oh my God…" Seamus mumbled when he had finally reached the end. Dean looked over to see which page he was looking at. Seamus didn't seem to know how to react, but passed the book along to Katie, who continued passing it throughout the circle. Ron took his seat between George and I once again just before it came to me. I don't think I'll ever forget what I saw.

It was all of us. Not just those of us in the room, but all of the students who had helped us along the way. Their faces looked so real, as if they were in a photograph instead of a drawing. But there was something more to them, something that you couldn't find in a photo. There was something so true about their expressions, something more real than anything I'd ever seen. There was Padma, Parvati, Hannah, Susan, Ernie…and then Lavender. She stood beside Dean. They were holding hands. Ron looked over my shoulder as I eyed the drawing, taking it all in.

"Bloody hell," he remarked, in his usual way. I nodded, and passed the book to George. Finally, all of us had seen it, except for Hermione, who let go of Dean's hand to get her glance at the two page drawing.

"Dean, have you worked on this since your scar darkened?" she asked suddenly.

"A couple times. It's hurt more, lately, though."

"I suppose it would." The two looked at each other, and suddenly both of them seemed to understand something.

"Cara forhere," Dean muttered. "I wasn't sure." I had no idea what they were talking about, but did not dare to ask. Instead, Hermione filled the group in.

"That's the spell they used on Dean's hand after it got hurt, to make it less visible. Cara forhere is used to warn people of danger after they've lost someone, but you need a scar to do it. That's like your scar, Harry."

"How do you mean?" I asked, still not understanding. "How does it work?"

"If somebody close to you dies," Hermione began, sounding oddly excited, "their memory is left within you, or your scars. With the spell, you can be warned if danger is approaching, depending on how dark or painful your scar is. At the same time, it's a message of love. That's why Dean only feels comfortable drawing with his left hand."

"But who did Dean lose?" Ron spoke, nearly instantly taking back his statement. "I mean…other than Lavender." Dean shivered in a noticeable way, causing everybody else in the room to feel nervous. "I mean…when he got that scar…" Ron rolled his eyes, knowing he was unable to properly say what he wanted to.

"My father." Dean looked very pensive at this statement.

"Your father's not dead, though," Seamus questioned his friend. Dean faced forward, his eyes drooping a little to the side as he thought.

"My real father. He was a wizard. We just found out."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Dean insisted, breaking out of his trance. He then smiled a little. "He was left-handed."

Neville, who I noticed was still holding Luna's hand, laughed a bit. " I think it's your turn." I told him. It wasn't until then, I think, that people remembered how all of this had started. It was all thanks to Luna's request. The atmosphere in the room changed back to it's solemn state as Neville began his tale.

"You all know about my parents, I think." I nodded, along with everyone else. "I visit them a lot. My mum…she doesn't really know who I am. Same with my dad, I suppose. But they like me. They know me, and they're not afraid of me. I don't know what I'd do if they were." I remembered the day at St. Mungo's as Neville told his story. "My mum always gives me these candy wrappers when I see her. They don't mean anything really, except to me. She just wants to give me something…anything…and it's really nice. Except…every time she does it, I can't help but feel so…useless.

"She doesn't really know him I am, just that I'm safe. Just that I'm not going to hurt her. I'd never do that…I'm not sure if I could do that to anybody." He frowned, obviously thinking about the approaching battle. "I have a box that I take around with me - it's in my bag - and it has all of the wrappers she's given me. There's a lot of them in there, and I keep them all, just in case I'll someday find out that they do mean something. I'm sure that they don't."

"You never know," Cho stopped him.

"I know…but they don't. Not anything having to do with the war or anything, anyways." Neville took a deep breath. "If I ever get out of this, I think that all I'll want to do is save my parents. I don't know how I'll do it, I just want to. I need to." Neville's eyes became very red, and he looked as if he was about to cry. Luna tightened her grip on his hand.

"We'll help you," she said, her eyes wide with concern.

"We'll all help you, Neville," I told him, and the rest of the group agreed.

"I…thank you," he said, looking at all of us, tears finally falling. "I can't believe I'm crying," he nearly laughed at this.

"It's alright," I told him. Then, suddenly, I felt like I had to tell him something. Something that I was aware he didn't know. "Neville…if I told you something right now that was completely insane, would you believe me?" Neville looked confused, but nodded. I began. "It could have been you."

"What are you talking about?" Neville's tears stopped falling, but he did not wipe his face. His eyes were wide.

"The Prophesy…both of our parents defied Voldemort three times, and we were both born in July. It could have been either one of us. He chose me."

"God, Harry…" I heard George mutter.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I told Neville honestly.

"No…" he began, flabbergasted. "I'm sorry. Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this-"

"Neville," I stopped him. "As far as I'm concerned, you've suffered just as much as I have. Everything I've done, everywhere I've gone, you've always seemed to be there…helping me. Maybe you weren't right there, like Ron and Hermione, but you always had a hand in what I did."

"Harry…"

"In first year, when you tried to stop us from leaving the Common Room…in second year, always giving me what information I needed…in third year, staying with me when everybody else had gone to Hogsmeade. In fourth year you helped so much, always sticking with me. In fifth year, with the DA and at the Ministry…last year, always fighting and being with me. Now we're here, and all I can say, Neville, is thank you. You're so brave, and I need to thank you for that."

Everything I had said was entirely honest. Somehow, in some weird way, Neville was always with me, and always willing to help out in any way that he could. Nobody could disagree with that.

"To Neville!" I heard Seamus announce, picking a piece of cheese from his plate and lifting it into the air.

"Our resident Herbologist," Justin joked lightly while chewing his food.

"Thanks," Neville mumbled, looking a little embarrassed. I saw him catch the eye of Luna. They gazed at each other for a moment, looking as if they weren't sure what to say next. All you could hear in the room were the sounds of people chewing, until Neville spoke again. "Luna?" He nodded to her, giving her permission to speak. She took it, and turned into the table, ready to talk to us.

"I think we're going to be okay," she said, grabbing the attention of all of us. "I don't know why…I just really do. I think it might have something to do with fate, and how I know that if there is a God, he'll want us to get out of this alright."

"And there is one." I turned to Seamus, puzzled. It wasn't necessarily a strange comment; it was just the timing that threw me off. He understood my confusion. "I was raised Irish Catholic…I know I don't act like it, really." We all laughed a little at this. "It's like Luna says, though, and almost like Hermione and George were talking about before. We're supposed to win; we just have to make it happen. Even if it is destiny, or fate, or whatever you want to call it, you still have to make the choice to make it happen. And I think that as long as we do our best, and don't doubt ourselves, it will happen."

"Amen," I heard Dean mumble in agreement beside Seamus. At that moment, a man apparated into the kitchen. He took a quick look around, making sure he was in the right place. I knew exactly who he was. Remus Lupin was here to tell us it was time to go.

"It'll take a minute for Hagrid to get the Thestrals ready," he said. "Gather up whatever you need now." He looked at all of us, as if counting. "Only thirteen?" he clarified, looking at me. I saw Seamus look up, looking amazed at the number. I didn't know why…he could have counted us before.

"Yeah," I told Remus. "Only thirteen."

"Alright. Apparate to Fred and George's…" he seemed to notice George, who had jumped at the mention of his brother's name. He continued very solemnly. "…shop. Hagrid should be there waiting. Remember, the Thestrals can be used as protection…they are weapons."

"Okay," I said, simply. He continued.

"There are a lot of people out there. All of the Order, and…well…quite a lot of students. They're all waiting for you. You guys have a lot of support," he told us, and I could see a small smile on his face.

"Thanks, Remus," I told him.

"It's no trouble at all." He left the room as swiftly as he had entered.

"Wait," I suddenly said, as everybody was getting ready to apparate. They all jumped, but still watched me, waiting to hear what I had to say. "I just…everybody do your best out there. That's what I want to say." I took a deep breath. "Help each other as much as possible; 'cause that's the only way we'll get out of this. I know you all will, though." When everybody had stopped watching me, I looked around, from face to face.

Terry looked scared, for one of the first times since I had met him. He just didn't seem as confident as usual. He doubted himself, and he shouldn't have had to.

Katie and Angelina stood next to each other, reminding me of the way the Quidditch team would stand together before a game. They were ready to support each other, no matter what, and work towards a common cause.

Justin's eyes were red, and he looked as if he would start crying at any moment from the memory of Susan. He didn't though. He stayed strong, and I hoped he would remain that way throughout the entire battle.

Cho, to my surprise, did not show any signs of wanting to cry. Instead she watched Terry, as if to check if he was alright. This was a change she had been making since we started our quest…she turned from being selfish to selfless, and truly caring.

Neville and Luna stood together, him with his arm around her. I always fancied that maybe the two of them would somehow fall in love, and give each other the company I knew they had always lacked. However, something very different had happened. Instead, they had become the best of friends, nothing more, and made it their job to help others to find companions. I had to admit, I was proud of them.

George stood by himself in the center of all of them. I couldn't help but feel strange looking at him by himself, and not with Fred right there beside him. I think that the loss of Fred was one of the worst tragedies during this war…you can't just separate twins, and especially not the Weasley twins. It just wasn't right. Still, somehow he managed to stay composed, if only for Ron. He had gotten his tears out for that night.

Dean and Seamus were also standing together, Seamus having to hold up Dean a little. We had begged Dean not to fight yet, and to save his strength until he really could. But he wanted to fight for Lavender, the girl whom we all knew he loved. I watched the way Seamus looked at his friend, a mixture of pity and fear written on his face. Dean tried to ignore the gesture, but I knew he understood it. Like Fred and George, these two people were not to be separated.

Then there were the two people who had stayed with me for seven years, never failing to be completely caring and supportive of all of my endeavors. They were always there to help me, no matter how hard it would be. They had fought to help me, even, showing exactly how true our friendship was. Ron held Hermione to his chest, whispering his wedding plans to her, her laughing a bit. It was amazing that they had gone from being quarrelling friends to a couple in the short span of time that had just passed. I knew, though, that they had always, in some strange way, been together, and that they really were meant for each other. It wasn't friendship becoming love at all…it was true love becoming great friendship.

And then there was me. I was just afraid.

I turned back to Seamus, and finally asked what had been bothering me since Lupin had counted all of us.

"What was so amazing?" He remembered what I was talking about after a short pause.

"Thirteen," he said. "There's thirteen of us." Hermione seemed to understand.

"Like in the Bible?"

"Yeah, like in the Bible."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Somehow, the thought was comforting. I didn't quite know what the two were talking about, but the look on Hermione's face made me feel as if everything would be alright, because of how many of us there were. Or maybe, judging by Seamus' face, it was just a strange coincidence, connecting our situation back to religion. I wasn't religious…I'm still not, really…but the thought that there could be something out there - something bigger than us - makes things feel a little more worth the while. At that moment, I felt like we were going to succeed. At least, I knew that we would try our best to, and that things would end up right in the end. Whatever that end would be.