A/N: I need to offer a major apology for the length of time between this chapter and the last. I was unable, as I had intended, to post this chapter before the release of HBP. This is primarily because I was attempting to squeeze three chapters worth of plot into one chapter in order to finish before the book’s release. I have now decided to simply divide them into three chapters as I should have done to begin with. The posting was further delayed when I went on vacation for two weeks and had no computer access. I then returned from vacation only to discover a power surge, lightning strike, or something had fried my computer (which I had just purchased). Finally, at long last, I am back online. This chapter is written as I originally intended. I have not changed anything as a result of reading the book. It, therefore, no longer follows cannon, although, oddly, it does have (or will have) some things in common with the book. So without further ado… the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.
All characters contained herein are the property of Ms. Rowling.
Harry scanned the map once more, hoping that this time it would say something different, yet knowing that it wouldn’t. Beside him, he heard Ginny’s sharp inhalation of breath and knew that she too had seen Ron and Hermione’s peril.
“Oh Merlin, Harry! We have to help them,” she choked out. Harry knew that she was right. . Fighting the almost overwhelming urge to charge unthinkingly to the rescue, he forced himself to stop and put the training he had been receiving to use. Going in without a plan would only lead to more deaths. He didn’t think he could survive that.
“Listen to me Gin,” he said firmly. “You need to get to Dumbledore and let him know what is going on. He’ll get the Order mobilized and to Hogsmede. I’m going through the tunnels after them. Hopefully I can save them, if not; I can at least delay them until help arrives. If they get to Hogsmede, Malfoy and Bellatrix could take them anywhere.”
“No way, Potter,” she said defiantly, her eyes flashing in anger. “If you think that I am going to just play messenger girl while my brother and best friend are in Malfoy’s slimy clutches, then you are as unbalanced as The Prophet said you were last year.”
“She’s right, Harry. You can’t go alone,” a quiet voice said from the doorway. Harry turned to see Neville, Seamus, and Dean looking at him. He had no idea how long they had been there, however, their expressions were every bit as determined as Ginny’s.
“Bloody hell!” Harry cursed running his hand through his hair. “I do not have time to argue with you four.”
“Then don’t,” Dean said simply.
“We care about them too, Harry. We’ll not let Malfoy hurt them,” Seamus said.
“We’re going with you, Harry,” Neville stated. Harry looked at the determined faces and conceded defeat, although it would be done his way.
“You can help, but we’ll do things my way. You follow orders no questions asked,” Harry said, waiting for their agreement before he continued. “Ginny and I will go after Ron and Hermione. Neville, you need to get to the headmaster. Tell him to mobilize the Order. They are going to want to guard the tunnels. If Voldemort attacks, it will be through them. Seamus and Dean, rouse the D.A. Do NOT commit them to battle unless you have to. Their primary job should be to protect the younger students. If you have to fight, have the younger students hole up in their common rooms, then give the death eaters everything you’ve got. We’ll be back with Ron and Hermione as quickly as we can.”
They made their way down the steps and through the common room, stopping at the portrait hole.
“Good luck you three,” Seamus whispered.
“And be careful,” Dean added.
“We will, and remember what I said. You two and Luna are in charge of the D.A. until we get back,” Harry said. He then covered Ginny, Neville, and himself with the cloak before the slipping out the common room entrance.
They moved swiftly and soundlessly through the darkened corridors, slipping into embrasures on two different occasions to avoid both Filch and a madly cackling Peeves. When they reached the hallway which branched off towards the headmasters office, Neville stepped out from under the cloak’s protection.
“I’ll get help to you as soon as I can,” Neville whispered before moving off cautiously down the shadowed corridor.
Harry and Ginny continued on to the one-eyed witch passageway, narrowly avoiding Marcus and Pansy Parkinson who were skulking down one of the hallways with Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a growing sense of unease as they went. It was not nerves for what they were about to attempt, more an air of tense waiting within the castle itself. He quickly revised his plans inside his head. He paused when they reached the statue and turned to Ginny, making sure they both stayed covered by the cloak.
“We don’t know what kind of shape they’re going to be in when we find them, Gin. I’ll distract Malfoy and the others. You stay under the cloak and get Ron and Hermione free and away from them,” he whispered.
“What do you mean get Ron and Hermione free and away? What about you, Harry? You want me to let you face three death eaters alone?” Ginny hissed.
“I’m not planning a pitched battle in the tunnels, love. I’ll be fine. Once I know that you three are clear, I’ll follow and seal the passageway behind us,” Harry said. Ginny narrowed her eyes.
“What about the Order? I thought that we were delaying Malfoy until the Order showed up,” Ginny demanded. Harry sighed.
“Ginny there is more going on here than just Malfoy taking Ron and Hermione. I don’t think Dumbledore will be able to commit the Order. I think we’ll be on our own,” Harry admitted.
“How do you know?” she whispered. He shook his head, willing her to understand.
“I don’t know. I just… I can feel it. This is just the beginning. Something major is going to happen tonight. We have to get Ron and Hermione and get back as quickly as we can,” Harry said. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded.
“All right, Harry. Just remember, if you let anything happen to yourself I will never forgive you,” she said. He smiled before gently kissing her. He opened the passageway and, taking Ginny’s hand, they stepped, together, into the darkness to save their friends.
Remus Lupin sat on the couch in the Shrieking Shack, the book he was pretending to read propped on Tonks’ bare feet which rested in his lap. He smiled to himself when she muttered under her breath over the stack of parchments that she was attempting to grade. Had anyone told him a year ago that he would ever be this happy, this content with his life; he would have suggested that they spend some time in St. Mungo’s with Gilderoy Lockhart. He was a werewolf, a supposed dark creature. He wasn’t supposed to have happy endings, and yet his was in sight. He had ‘Dora and Harry. For the first time since that horrible Halloween night, he felt that he was part of a family. It was, for him, like a miracle.
“I am never going to get through all of these bloody essays. What was I thinking when I assigned them?” Tonks muttered, tiredly rubbing her eyes.
“You were probably thinking I’ll sweet talk Remus into helping me grade these like you have the last five essays you’ve assigned,” he answered with a grin.
“Can I help it that you were practically born to be a professor and could probably grade these in your sleep?” she said, fluttering her eyelashes in his direction. Remus chuckled.
“Sorry, love. It’s not going to work this time,” he said. She stuck her tongue out at him and stood up.
“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to drink entirely more caffeine than I should and stay up all night,” she said with a sigh and headed for the kitchen.
“Guilt won’t work either, ‘Dora. Thanks to James’ and Sirius’ liberal use of it, I’m immune,” he said to her retreating back. She turned and once more stuck her tongue out at him as she entered the kitchen. He had just stretched out on the couch, still chuckling to himself when he heard the sound of shattering china from the room his fiancé had recently entered.
“You know, we really should put an unbreakable charm on all of our dishes. That’s the tenth cup you’ve broken this week,” he called to her. His amusement turned to a frown, however, when he did not receive the expected saucy reply.
“Dora?” he said, rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen. “Are you o…”
It was only his keen werewolf sense which saved him from the stunner shot in his direction by the rat faced little man standing near the stove. Remus dove and rolled behind the kitchen table, overturning it as he went. The spell slammed into the wooden door causing splinters of wood to shower the kitchen.
“Remus! My old friend! How nice of you to join us. I’ve just been reacquainting myself with Nymphadora here. I do hope I’ll be invited to the wedding,” Peter smirked.
Remus fought down the rising surge of anger from his werewolf side, as well as the worry and fear from his wizard one. He drew his wand, his mind working frantically to try and find a way to save Tonks. He peered cautiously out from behind his makeshift barrier. The limp form of his fiancé was slumped between two large masked death eaters. A small trickle of blood dripped down her face from a jagged wound near her left temple.
“’Dora!” Remus cried involuntarily. Wormtail laughed a nervous, mad sounding laugh.
“I’m afraid she’s currently unable to answer. We’ve spared her life for now, though. The Dark Lord thought that she’d be a nice reward for the werewolves who follow him, given her preferences for your kind,” Peter sneered.
With those words, Remus’ control snapped and the wolf took charge. He leapt over the table at the two death eaters holding his mate. Before they could react, he sent them both flying into the kitchen walls, where they slumped bonelessly to the floor, unconscious. Growling low in his throat, he turned and advanced on Wormtail. Peter’s eyes widened in fear, and he took an involuntary step back raising his wand.
“S-stay back,” Wormtail stuttered. With another growl, Moony knocked the wand from Peter’s trembling hand. Peter retreated farther, backing into the stove. Moony continued to stalk him.
Peter began to shake, too frightened to even transform. This was not the kind, gentle face of the former prefect turned professor. Peter recognized this face, however, and it filled him with fear. Remus’ normally soft, grey eyes had gone a hard amber color. His lips were drawn back in a feral snarl over teeth which had become noticeably sharper. With lightning quickness, Remus grabbed his former friend by the throat, slamming him against the wall, leaving his feet dangling off of the floor.
“Traitor,” he snarled, in a voice almost unrecognizable as Remus Lupin. “You betrayed us. You killed Prongs and broke Padfoot. You destroyed the pack. For twelve years I was alone, because of you. For twelve years I had no one, and now I have a pack again. I have a mate and you dare to try and destroy what is mine again. You dare to hurt her. For all of this, your life is forfeit.”
“R-r-remus… please… mercy,” Peter choked out gasping for air. Moony smiled a cold mockery of a smile. He increased his hold around the struggling man’s throat, ignoring the burns on his arms where Wormtail used his silver hand to try and claw his way free.
“Remus isn’t here right now. He’d show you mercy. I won’t. My face will be the last thing you see before you die. Padfoot and Prongs wait for you on the other side Wormtail. Maybe they will be merciful, but I wouldn’t count on it,” Moony growled.
He tightened his grip even further, crushing Peter’s windpipe with a sickening crunch. He watched in grim satisfaction as the traitor’s eyes bulged and his attempts to free himself became first more frantic, and then more feeble. With a wheezing gurgle, the last bit of life flowed from Peter and he was flung like a bit of rubbish against the wall. Moony released a roaring howl of victory, before turning away from Peter and sinking to the floor next to Tonks.
“It’s done. They have been avenged,” he growled, burying his face in his hands. When he raised it again, his eyes were no longer amber, but a stricken, pain-filled grey. Gently Remus lifted the wounded Tonks in his arms and strode with her to the living room. He laid her, for a moment, on the couch while he grabbed a handful of floo powder and flung it into the fireplace. Picking her up once more he entered the fire.
“Dumbledore,” he said, his voice hoarse and full of emotion. Cradling the still unconscious auror in his arms, he disappeared in a swirl of green flame.
Severus Snape prowled through the darkened halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He kept to the shadows, alert and wary for any sign that something was amiss, as Dumbledore had ordered. It was, he was certain, a fool’s errand that he had been sent on, all because Potter had a feeling. Snape gave a mental snort.
If the Dark Lord had been planning something as significant as an attack on Hogwarts, he would know. It was, after all, his sole purpose in the cursed existence he called a life to know what Voldemort was up to. He allowed himself a brief fantasy, in which Voldemort was defeated and he was somewhere quiet where he never again had to hear the name Potter, or Black, Lupin, Weasley, or Granger for that matter. A faint rustle of sound down the corridor snapped his wandering thoughts back into focus. He slipped soundlessly into a nearby alcove, as a small group of dark robed figures approached.
“How Malfoy put up with you, I’ll never know Goyle. Are you trying to alert the whole bloody castle about what is happening?” the voice of Marcus Parkinson hissed through the darkness.
“Draco would’ve cursed them by now,” Pansy drawled in a bored voice.
“Your beloved Draco is busy with another task just now sister dear,” Marcus said. Even in the dark, Snape could see the pout which appeared on the Slytherin girl’s face.
“I know. I should be with him, not that Patil girl,” she said icily.
“Perhaps you should bring that up with the Dark Lord when he arrives. I’m sure he’d be open to your suggestions. I thought you were more intelligent than that, however, besides, you know that you want a chance to shred Potter’s little D.A,” Marcus said.
“I suppose. I’d have thought you’d be sticking near the dungeons tonight, though, with the nice little reward that’s been put on the traitor’s head,” Pansy whispered.
“Use your head, Pansy. Dumbledore will, of course, be at the golden boy’s side, protecting him, so that’s where the spy will be too. No doubt Snape will be clinging to the old fool’s robes in fear once he realizes that he’s been found out,” Marcus replied.
Snape allowed the voices to fade down the corridor before stepping out from the shadows. A slight twitch of an eyelid was the only indication he gave that he had just heard a group of his beloved Slytherins plotting not only his demise, but a full scale invasion of the school. He turned and headed down the corridor towards the headmaster’s office, his robes billowing out behind him. He was nearly there when he heard, once more, a whisper in the darkness.
“Chocolate frogs? Fainting Fancies?” the voice said barely above a whisper. “Come on you stupid gargoyles. This is an emergency! Would you please open up?”
Snape couldn’t help but roll his eyes, as he silently added the name Longbottom to the list of names he hoped to never hear again. The only thing that could make this night worse would be for James Potter and Sirius Black to come strolling into the castle alive and well. He smirked to himself as he snuck up behind Neville. He had to allow himself the simple pleasures in life, after all. Scaring Longbottom senseless was one of them.
“Longbottom, I assume you have a good explanation for being out of bed after curfew and attempting to gain entrance to the headmaster’s office at nearly midnight?” he hissed. Neville jumped and gave a little squeak of surprise, whirling to face the potion’s master.
“P-professor Snape, I have to see the headmaster,” he said, his face pale, but determined. Snape sneered at him in contempt.
“And what could you possibly have to say that is so important as to disturb him at this time of night?” Snape asked, his voice soft and dangerous.
“It’s Malfoy, sir. He’s taken Ron and Hermione into the tunnels. Ginny and Harry have gone after them. Harry sent me to get help,” Neville said, more bravely than he felt.
“Didn’t he learn from playing the hero last time?” Snape muttered to himself, before pushing past Neville and saying, “Lemon Drop.”
The gargoyles sprang to life, revealing the revolving stairs which lead to the headmaster’s office. Grabbing Neville by the ear, he stepped on to them and ascended to the room above, where he knew Dumbledore was probably waiting.
Professor Albus Dumbledore stared into the swirling mists of his pensieve, watching James and Lily Potter twirling and dancing at their wedding reception, while he, a gently smiling Remus Lupin, a nervous looking Peter Pettigrew, and a laughing Sirius Black looked on. He shook his head at the cruel trick fate had played on all of them. Sirius had lost his laughter in Azkaban. Remus’ smile had not reached his eyes for nearly twelve years, until Sirius had escaped his prison and proven his innocence. Peter had betrayed them all… the only friends he had truly ever had. James and Lily had lost their lives, leaving Dumbledore to carry on and make decisions he never should have had to make.
He smiled sadly as he thought of the Potter’s only son Harry. Fate had played the cruelest trick of all on that young man. He’d grown up unloved, with no one to depend on. He’d grown close to Sirius, finally having someone he considered a father figure, only to have him ripped away, as well. It was miraculous that Harry had survived, let alone survived to become such a remarkably caring young man. Albus took none of the credit for the person that Harry was. He knew he had made horrific mistakes where the young man was concerned, not the least of which had been his choice of guardians for the orphaned infant.
When Remus Lupin had sent him word that night that Harry was sensing that Voldemort was preparing for something major, Albus had accepted it without question. He had ordered the staff, especially Minerva and Severus, to increase their patrols of the castle. He had also sent word to all of the core Order members to be ready. He had learned to trust it when Harry Potter had a feeling about something. It was now a waiting game.
He turned away from the pensieve, tiredly rubbing his eyes. Even with Harry’s warning, Dumbledore had felt that something was coming. The castle had been tensed for weeks. As headmaster, he was inextricably tied to the school’s innate magic. He could sense its ebb and flow. Its magic had been building since the attack on Hogsmede in February, as if the school could sense that it would be next.
The headmaster rose from his desk and walked to the perch where Fawkes sat. Gently, he ran a finger down the side of the bird’s neck. Fawkes trilled softly in response.
“You feel it too, don’t you old friend?” Dumbledore said. Fawkes’ only answer was a slight inclination of the head and a single crystalline tear which slid slowly through the plumage on his face.
The harsh grating of the gargoyles, which guarded the office’s entrance, moving alerted him to the arrival of Severus Snape, with an indignant looking Neville Longbottom in tow. Dumbledore turned to greet them.
“Professor Snape, Mr. Longbottom, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Dumbledore asked.
“It’s Potter, headmaster. He’s gone off to play the hero… again,” Snape hissed.
“He’s not playing the hero. He is the hero. He and Ginny have gone to save Ron and Hermione. Malfoy has them in the tunnel to Honeydukes, sir. Harry sent me to tell you and ask you to mobilize the Order. He said to guard the tunnels into the school. He thinks death eaters will be coming through there. He sent Seamus and Dean to wake up the D.A. members. He said to have them protect the younger students,” Neville said, momentarily forgetting his fear of the potions master.
“I’m afraid that Potter is correct, sir. In my patrols I overheard a group of students talking. It would seem that there will be an attack tonight. Those the death eaters have recruited from within the student body will be joining in. Apparently, the Dark Lord has put a price upon my head that some of my students are only too eager to claim,” Snape said bitterly.
As Dumbledore was processing this information, the fireplace in his office flared to life and a stricken looking Remus Lupin stumbled out with an unconscious Tonks in his arms. Dumbledore rushed to them in concern.
“Dilys, go fetch Poppy and Minerva. Remus? What’s happened?” he asked.
“Death eaters. She went to the kitchen to get a drink and there was a crash. They were there waiting. It was… Peter was there. I lost control. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. Peter is dead. I killed him,” he said woodenly. Dumbledore conjured chairs for them all, forcing Remus to sit.
“You shouldn’t judge yourself too harshly, Remus. The man you knew as Peter Pettigrew has been gone for a long time, and you were defending the ones you love. I know this has been horrible for you, but I’m afraid there is more,” Dumbledore said softly. Remus’ eyes snapped up to meet Dumbledore’s.
“Harry… where is Harry?” Remus demanded.
“Draco Malfoy has kidnapped Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley and taken them into the tunnel under Honeydukes. Harry has gone after them,” Dumbledore told him.
“Why are we standing around here then? Why aren’t we helping him?” Remus demanded.
“Yes, by all means. We should just leave the castle undefended and go save Potter from another mess of his own making,” Snape said.
“Shut up, Snivellus,” Remus growled.
“Severus, Remus… enough,” the headmaster ordered.
Minerva and Madame Pomfrey rushed in then. Remus, torn between going after Harry and staying with Tonks, was relieved by Madame Pomfrey’s assurances that Tonks had certainly survived worse than a little bump on the head and would be fine. Reluctantly he allowed her to be taken to the hospital wing. He then joined the headmaster and Snape who were filling Professor McGonnagall in on all that had occurred this evening.
“Albus, what will we do? Even if we call up the entire Order, we hardly have people to spare to go after Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley,” Professor McGonnagall said.
“Harry is, I’m sure, aware of the situation, Minerva. Despite what he told Mr. Longbottom, I don’t believe that he expected any assistance,” Dumbledore said. “We will have to trust that he can extricate himself and the others from the hands of young Mr. Malfoy.”
“I’m going. They are Marauders. We protect our own,” Remus said simply. The headmaster shot him a sharp glance.
“Are you sure you are up to that?” he asked. Remus nodded.
“No one alive knows those tunnels better than I do,” he said grimly. “I will not leave them down there alone.”
A gasp from the corner had the whole group turning. A panic stricken Neville Longbottom was standing near a pile of ashes where Fawkes had stood.
“I didn’t do anything. I swear he just…” Neville choked out.
“It’s all right, Neville. Fawkes is a phoenix. It would seem that today is a burning day,” Dumbledore said. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked every one of his considerable years. He walked over to the perch and carefully lifted the tiny baby Fawkes from the ashes in which it was reborn.
A/N: There you go. The next chapter should be posted as soon as this one goes up. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks go out to my moderator Danielle and my son and beta William. Many, many thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, and stuck by this story even though it is no longer cannon.
Next chapter… The Battle for Hogwarts