Harry stood in the middle of the Room of Requirement, and slowly surveyed the group in front of him. Neville, his brother. Hermione, his sister. And Blaise, the love of his life. They all wore their training clothes; loose black tracksuits and tight fitting white tops to allow easy, unhindered movement.
Harry's confidence in Neville had helped him immensely, transforming the young man. He exuded strength in every form, even in his appearance; he was almost as tall as Harry, and extremely well-muscled, with bold features currently set into a determined expression. He held Hermione's hand in his own, and she had her fingers laced through his. Her wild curls tumbled down from the leather grip tying it up, and her eyes shone with a fierceness which was grounded by the solid strength of her fiancé's. Blaise's jet black hair was tied up like Hermione's, and it was similar to Harry's in its windswept, layered style. Her eyes were a shocking violet, and after surveying Hermione and Neville, it was these eyes that Harry's gaze locked onto. He had been training the trio and, somehow, he knew that Voldemort would come to Hogwarts tomorrow with his followers, to fulfil the prophecy. He could feel it. The trio before him had told him they would fight by his side, though Hogwarts would be locking everyone else Harry asked her to in the castle. The question was, were they ready? Did they have what it took to find themselves looking down the end of a Death Eater's wand, and be able to cast a reducto before the murderer in front of them could? Neville could, with ease. He knew they deserved no quarter. Hermione too. She would show no mercy – because they sure as hell wouldn't show her any. However Blaise… She favoured the stunners, and binders. They wouldn't help her, not tomorrow.
"Blaise!" he called. She stepped forwards. "Use everything available to you. Daggers, animagus forms, wand, anything. Duel …Level 10." Blaise's eyes widened. Level 10 was the quartet's code for the highest level of duelling; anything goes… Harry nodded sharply to Neville and Hermione, who backed to the edge of the large room. Hermione's amplified voice echoed round the hall.
"Positions." Both Harry and Blaise walked in opposite directions, stopping about five metres apart and turning to face each other. They bowed, and sank into duelling stances, eyes fixed on each other. Power crackled around them like electricity.
"Set… Duel." Silence descended upon the hall, words during spellcasting unnecessary for the quartet. Harry immediately loosed a nasty bone crushing hex. It skimmed just above Blaise's shoulder as Harry ducked her binding hex. She inhaled sharply. Harry hadn't intended that to hit her, if he had she would be in severe pain. No, that was a warning – don't hold back. She threw the strongest stunner she knew in his direction.
"Stop." Harry called into the silence. "What was that?" Anger burned in his eyes and Blaise flinched. "If I was a Death Eater, you would already be dead. Tomorrow, you do not mess around with stunners, do you understand me?" His voice was low, his wand loosely by his side, but his tone and stance screamed danger. Blaise nodded. "Good. Again." he told her, not moving from his seemingly casual stance. Blaise knew that with even the slightest threat he would be shielded or out of the way within moments. She frowned, and threw a mild bludgeoning hex at him. A flick of his wand and her hex crashed into the wall. "That was pathetic." He growled, "A first year could do better. You wouldn't last two minutes against Crabbe or Goyle, let alone someone like…Rabastan Lestrange." Blaise bristled, her grip tightening around her wand. How dare he? A cutting curse flew from her wand. Harry batted it away effortlessly. "Is that it? That's all you've got to throw at me? A couple of minor hexes?" Anger flooded through her, power glowing in narrowed eyes. A complex chain of curses streamed from the end of her wand, and Harry called up a strong shield. "This is really the best you can do?" He taunted, "I'm disappointed. I expected better." Blaise gritted her teeth. Bastard. She was forced to drop to the floor as a vicious severing ribbon cracked over her head. Rolling to her knees she paused in a crouch, alert. Harry stood a few metres away with an expression of disgust on his face. As she watched, his features seemed to warp and change, until she was looking at the image of Rabastan Lestrange. Blaise tensed, hatred twisting in her gut. Rabastan sneered,
"You think you can hex me, girl? You couldn't get anywhere near me. I'll kill you just like I did your pathetic parents." Pure fury blossomed inside her and all thoughts of Voldemort, training, and duelling Harry fled her mind. In front of her was Rabastan Lestrange, the man who murdered her parents, and he – was – going – to – die. "Your father begged for his life like a snivelling coward, but your mother tried to put up a fight… It's a shame I was under orders to kill her, I would have liked to keep her as a slave. She would have been such a good… pet, don't you think?" Blaise saw red. She launched a powerful reductor at the smirking man, who lazily conjured up a shield. "Pitiable, girl-" he was cut off as he was forced to shield and dodge from the barrage of fatal curses coming his way, hammering his shields and slamming into the walls behind him. Closing in on Lestrange Blaise growled, which turned into a deafening roar as she transformed into a great snow leopard with vivid violet eyes. She launched herself at the smirking figure, claws out, lethal fangs bared. Not missing a beat, the man in front of her twisted sideways, transforming mid-spin. Blaise skidded across the floor, claws gouging vicious lines in the floor. She leapt again, and collided with a lithe black panther, whose glowing emerald eyes locked onto her own. A small voice in the back of her head tried to break through her blind rage, telling her that this was wrong, this was her fiancé's animagus form, but she pushed it away as the two powerful felines tumbled across the floor, a mass of swiping paws and whipping tails. With a yowl, Blaise found herself thrown off the panther by muscled limbs. Glimpsing her opponent changing, she morphed back, landing in a crouch with feline grace. Before anyone had time to blink there was another flurry of brutal curses flying towards the Death Eater, who could do nothing but shield as the curses got more and more ferocious as they closed in on each other, Lestrange backing up to the wall. With a scream of pure rage Blaise slammed him against the stone, wand pressed to his neck.
To her horror, she found she couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't cast another spell. Hands gripped her wrists, gently lowering her wand.
"Blaise." The word sliced through her thoughts. "Blaise." She blinked, refocusing on the glowing emeralds in front of her eyes.
"H- Harry?"
"Shh, sweetie. It's alright. It's just me." She collapsed, sobbing in his arms, releasing the grief she had been hiding since her parents' murder. "It's okay, love, I'm here, I've got you." Neville and Hermione drew closer, wrapping them all in a tight embrace.
Eventually the tears slowed, and she looked up into Harry's worried eyes, taking in his anguished guilt, and comprehension hit. "I understand," She whispered softly, "It's okay. I understand..." Tension flooded from his body, and the four sat in silence as the sun rose, taking strength from each other, the only family they had left.
There was a deafening crash, which seemed to resound through the entire castle. "They're attacking the wards." Neville murmured in resignation.
"We can't let them fall," sighed Hermione, coming to the same conclusion, "...the others can't follow."
"It's just us." Blaise breathed, but all four relaxed slightly.
"No one will get hurt. Hogwarts will protect them." Harry smiled, thanking the castle. Reassuring warmth flooded through them in response, promising to keep her children safe. Another thunderous crash, and the four Heirs exchanged brief glances, before slipping through the wards to apparate to the edge of the grounds.
A sea of black cloaks, all masked but one.
"Riddle," Harry greeted coldly.
"Potter," he returned, his hand held out in silent command to the Death Eaters behind him. They froze, pausing in their attack on the wards.
Silence.
The two sides measured each other up, cruel, confident smirks etched on the Dark Wizards' faces.
"So this is it..." drawled Voldemort, "The beginning of the end... Goodbye, Potter." Time hung suspended for a single breath... then all hell broke loose. Neville sliced a path through the black robes, cutting them down with lethal precision. No quarter. Hermione was next to him, twirling and flinging spells with feral grace, each one hitting its mark. No mercy. Blaise moved with liquid fluidity, never in the same space long enough for a spell to hit her, powerful curses slamming into the Death Eaters surrounding her. Don't hold back. The way Harry moved was awe-inspiring, the grace and elegance of his movement failing to hide barely restrained power, as he commanded the magic around him with lightning speed. This is it. The beginning of the end indeed...Goodbye, Riddle. The Death Eaters staggered backwards as the Four Heirs released their auras, before attacking with renewed desperation. Voldemort snarled at the Slytherin aura swirling around the man in front of him, vivid and true, with Merlin's gold lancing through the raw magic. His own aura snapped into existance, a mottled, sickening green, flashing dangerously.
And so the fight for Hogwarts began.