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.