New Zealand
Chaos erupted.
Harry felt a tug as the spell suspending him was broken, and tumbled to the ground. Already around him Order members and Death Eaters quickly engaged in battle. Where had Voldemort gone? It seemed the instant the Order had appeared, he had fled. Yet that can’t be right, thought Harry, confused.
Harry began a frantic search for his wand. A moment ago, it had been just off there. But now, with people running everywhere, and spells streaking through the air, he couldn’t find it.
“Harry! Harry!” over the noise, Ron and Hermione’s voices could be heard.
“Over here!” he called out, still searching for his wand. He dodged around Sturgis Podmore fighting Jugson, coming face-to-face with his best friends.
“Are you all right? Where’s Voldemort?” Hermione yelled.
“I don’t know, he disappeared!” Harry responded, jumping as a stray stunning spell shot past. “Listen, I can’t find my wand!”
“What!?” Ron said, panicky, though that was more because a furnunculus curse had grazed his arm and now a large boil was popping up. Hermione quickly fixed it while talking very fast.
“If we’re going to talk, let’s do it somewhere safer!” she said, then dragged them down closer to the trees. It was by no means ‘safe’, but at least they weren’t doing back flips to avoid curses.
“Now, what do you mean you can’t find your wand?” Ron demanded, turning to Harry.
“Just that- its lost, somewhere on the ground,” Harry said, gesturing to the battle field.
Ron looked at the crowd of fighters in disbelief. No way he was going to find that wand now. The action was spreading out now, some heading in their direction.
“We need to get back in there,” Hermione said, more to herself than the men. Then she turned to Harry. “Here,” she said firmly, thrusting her wand into Harry’s hands.
“What- no!” Harry stared at her. “You need this!”
“You need it more,” she said. “No, I’m serious, Harry,” she said as he tried to give it back. “Find Voldemort. Kill him. That’s what matters.”
“But, Hermione-” she glared at him. Harry’s shoulders sagged, staring back. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll manage. Look, don’t worry about me.” She paused, looked down. “I know my wand won’t work as well, but it’ll do.” They stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. Hermione won.
“Okay.” Harry said finally.
“Then go!”
Harry nodded, but lingered a moment longer. “Be careful. Ron,” Ron looked at Harry, his face uncharacteristically pale. “Find her a wand, and watch out for each other.” Suddenly Harry grinned. “I want to get absolutely plastered after this, and I’m gonna need both of you to carry me home.”
Then he ran off, looking for his adversary.
Ireland
Neville followed Amelia through the crowded streets of Dublin. The city was just as it always was- loud, noisy, and busy. Plenty of people were taking advantage of the fine weather to spend a day in the city. The- automobiles, Neville thought they’re called- rushed by in a dangerous manner, and distracted shoppers bumped shoulders and parcels. Amelia didn't take particular notice- she was just as preoccupied with her errands as everyone else was with theirs- but normally Neville would be itching to leave. Not today, though. Today, Neville walked along absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts. Amelia chatted happily, but he wasn't listening.
He was thinking about Harry.
Neville knows, any minute now, it may be over. The Dark Lord could already be a pile of ash. The Death Eaters may be tied up, watched by aurors, while the dead and injured are looked after. Neville could be free of his fear.
Or maybe Harry was the pile of ash, and the Order tortured while the Dark Lord is crowned victor. Maybe the real fear has only begun.
“…and then the little girl looked right at her mum and said ‘oops’. That’s all! Isn’t that precious?” Amelia smiled at Neville, waiting for him to laugh and agree. But Neville just stared at the shoe display.
“Neville?”
“Huh?” he looked up. Neville saw her expectant expression and tried to shake himself out of his reverie. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Amelia sighed. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit distracted.” Then she remembered the visitor earlier. “Does it have something to do with that man that came by? Who was that, anyway?”
“An old school friend,” Neville shrugged off her question. “It was nothing.”
“So you all right?”
“Yea.” She nodded and turned back to shopping.
“No,” Neville said suddenly, and Amelia looked back. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
“What, back to the house?”
“No,” Neville considered telling her the truth, but there was too much. “I have to go help some friends.”
“So it is about that man earlier.”
“Yea, sorta,” Neville replied vaguely. “I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back. Right now, I need to hurry.”
Amelia’s forehead creased in confusion. It wasn't like her husband to be secretive- well, not with her anyway. But she trusted him. So she nodded slowly, concerned.
“Be safe.”
“I will,” Neville promised, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. “See you tonight.”
Then he rushed off, back to the secluded alley where they had apparated to before.
Grimmauld Place
George shifted carefully in his seat. His ankle was still sore. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, echoing a bit in the silence. George shifted again, the old couch creaking under his weight. The others had only been gone ten minutes, but it felt much longer.
Draco was pacing restlessly around the table. He, like George, kept an eye on the clock, annoyed by the dragging seconds. Every step hurt, forcing him to bite his lip in pain. But he was too full of energy to sit still. So he paced in spite of his injuries.
Remus watched the younger men out of the corner of his eye. He was sitting, hunched over a butterbeer. He allowed himself a secret smile at their restlessness. Both were fidgeting, unable to keep still. Life had not yet taught them patience. But they did not speak; their fears did not permit it. Speaking their fears aloud would make them too real. So instead they twitched with their unease, waiting. Waiting for something to happen.
Crack!
George was so stunned he nearly jumped off the couch before a throb from his ankle stopped him. Remus, uninhibited by foot injuries, did shoot up, upsetting his bottle in his haste. Draco only stood there, jaw slack, staring at the round faced, dark haired man that had just apparated into Grimmauld Place. Remus was the first to find his voice.
“Neville?”
Neville stood there awkwardly, avoiding Draco’s gaze. Draco thought he looked much as he had at school. Even without doing or saying a thing, Neville looked clumsy and abashed. Maybe it was the way he slouched. Or maybe the way he held his wand, as if it was a dangerous weapon that he didn’t understand. Draco felt old feelings of contempt and malice stir. He struggled against it, trying to give Neville an objective appraisal. Perhaps he had changed since school. Perhaps Neville hadn’t even been really inept in the first place. Draco fought back a snigger.
Neville looked instinctively to Remus, who had after all been his former professor. He took a deep breath before saying, “I want to help.”
Draco’s jaw nearly bruised against the floor.
New Zealand
“Conjunctivitis!”
The Death Eater bellowed with pain as Ron’s spell hit his eyes, blinding him. Ron allowed himself a smirk of pleasure while stunning the distracted man and binding him with thick chains. Then Ron grabbed the Death Eater’s wand and snapped it. Though it was technically illegal to break another wizard or witch’s wand, Ron didn’t particularly care at the moment. It was also technically illegal to knock someone out and steal another person’s wand. That didn’t stop Hermione.
Satisfied he had put his opponent out of commission, he looked around for fresh blood. To his dismay, he saw that few Order members were fairing as well as he. Many were hard pressed, slowly giving ground to their attacker. Ron’s heart sank. They were losing.
Ron saw Padma Patil on her knees, feebly fending off spells fired by Rodolphus Lestrange. Ron began to run towards her, a funny rushing sound in his ears. He pointed his wand at Lestrange, shouting the first thing he thought of.
“Expelliarmus!”
But Ron was too far away to be accurate. Lestrange kept his wand. He was getting closer to Padma, a sickening grin crossing his face. Padma was on all fours, mumbling spells without effect. Her wand was limp in her hand. Blood from a head wound clouded her vision. Ron watched them with growing dread as Lestrange pulled Padma up roughly by her hair. He tilted her head back so he could look at the face of his victim. She was whispering incoherently, still trying to defend herself. Padma looked at his face, breathing shallowly. Her eyes blinked slowly. Still grinning, Lestrange raised his wand.
Ron was closer now and tried to disarm Lestrange again. He called out his spell at the same time the Death Eater called his.
“Avada Kedavra!”
“EXPELLIARMUS!!”
Ron was too late. Lestrange, now laughing, dropped the sagging body. Rage filled Ron. He continued to run at Lestrange, even as the Death Eater turned away. Ron started yelling as wrath built inside him. Now Lestrange turned around, eyes widened with shock at the image of fury coming at him. He raised his wand in futile defense.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Now it was the body of Rodolphus Lestrange at Ron’s shaking feet.
Neville fell onto a grassy patch. The men at Grimmauld Place had given him directions, though hesitantly. They hadn’t been sure it was right for Neville to go. We don’t know how bad it is, they had said. Just wait here, we might need you for something else, they had advised.
But Neville had been adamant. He wanted to be here. It felt necessary. So they had relented. Now he was here, slightly disoriented from the sudden change of night to day, and beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t have listened to Remus and George (Draco being silent the majority of Neville’s visit).
Neville looked about him and saw Ron. He was shaking, his wand at his side. His face was dark, hiding his thoughts. He was staring at a crumpled man in front of him that Neville recognized as a Death Eater. Neville walked over to Ron, nervously aware of the violence around him.
“Ron?”
Ron looked up at Neville. For a second, his expression didn’t change. Then his face relaxed into amazement.
“Neville?”
For the second time that day, Neville heard himself say a phrase he wasn’t sure he agreed with. “I want to help.”
She circled around slowly, not taking her eyes off the woman opposite her. The first woman’s wand was clenched tight in her fist, knees bent in a defensive position. Her opponent held the same stance, blond hair in her face. A bit of smugness hung on her lips. The first woman kept her expression neutral.
“Pansy,” she said finally, acknowledging her rival.
“Hermione,” Pansy replied in kind, nodding slightly.
The two stared at each other a moment longer. Then, as if on signal, they attacked.
Harry paused, looking around him. He was in a thicket, far away from the main action. His side hurt, he was out of breath, and he still hadn’t found Voldemort. He looked cautiously about him. Night pressed in about him. Harry judged it to be near midnight.
Harry held out his wand, which was letting off a small beam of light. He couldn’t hear the battle anymore. The energy rush he’d had when first arriving had long left, and he felt drained.
“Come on, focus,” he muttered angrily. He turned around, trying to decide where to look next.
“Over here, Harry,” a voice said softly behind him.
Harry whirled around.
Tom Marvolo Riddle stood behind him, smiling with wand pointed at Harry's heart.
(A/N): well now. sorry this took a while to get out, i am unbelievably busy with life at the moment, and i'm behind. but i will try to get the next chapter out asap. i know whats going to happen, i just need to write it out! And the next chapter, i promise, Harry and you-know-who will fight. really.
thanks so much to all reviewers! you make life worth living. okay, so not really. but close.
Argh, I can't believe it! They rejected this chapter and told me to change 'verb tenses'. :grr: So if this is extra late, I apologize profusely, but alas, the fates are against me.