Disclaimer: Not J.K. Rowling, don't own Harry Potter Universe, etc.
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Part One: June 28, 1998; Somewhere in the English countryside
His wand locked with Voldemort's for the second time in his memory, but this time it would turn out differently. After what felt like hours, but was really only seconds, Harry broke the connection. Voldemort had become too powerful; he was exhausted.
Voldemort shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" once again, and this time, Harry wasn't fast enough to stop him. This time, he couldn't protect himself, and neither could his mother's love. His death was painless, but it was a blow to the wizarding world.
When Rufus Scrimgeour realized this, he turned over the post of Minister of Magic to Lord Voldemort. The wizards and witches known to be members of the Order of the Phoenix were arrested and held, awaiting execution in Azkaban prison. Those Death Eaters still in Azkaban were set free and given important positions in the Ministry.
Part Two: September 11, 2001; 7:15 a.m.; Airport at Boston, Massachusetts
Walking through the airport in Boston, Massachusetts were about forty witches and wizards. All were shabbily dressed and seemed to be anxious about something.
Walking with them were eighteen men and two women, all sporting the same scar on their left forearms, a skull with a snake for a tongue. Just by looking at them one could tell that they were dangerous, and they radiated an aura of power.
"Alastor, we can still escape," a middle-aged woman whispered to her neighbor, a man with two mismatched eyes.
"No, Minerva," replied Alastor, also in a whisper. "Don't you remember what the Dark Lord said? If we even try to escape, he'll execute all of the muggle-born wizards in England!"
"Yes, but Alastor—"
"No buts, Minerva. We have to do what they say, even if it does mean our deaths."
"May I cut in?" asked a man whose red hair was turning gray. "Minerva, as much as we my fear what's about to come, we can't risk it. Our last hope may be among those wizards. We have to do this."
"Still, Arthur—"
"And," added a young woman with bushy brown hair, "I don't think Harry would have wanted all of those deaths. He wouldn't want the Order dead, but he definitely wouldn't have wanted us to allow all of those people to be killed. And what would Dumbledore say?"
The was silence for a moment, and then the young man at her side said, "Yeah. And McGonagall, even if we did manage to escape, we've done all we can. It's in the other's hands now, the ones in France, and Germany, and America, and the rest of the world. Charlie's still free, maybe he'll—" His voice got higher as he kept talking.
"Ron, calm down. You're attracting attention," said Arthur. Ron straightened up and looked around. "Anyways," continued Arthur, "I think we're here. Ron, Minerva, this is goodbye."
"I'll see you—afterwards," said Ron, unable to say the word.
"Goodbye, Ron," said Hermione as she hugged him for the last time. Ron held back tears—Draco Malfoy wasn't going to see him cry!—as he watched ten people board flight #9. He had known these people for at least half of his life: his father, his brothers Fred and George, Hermione Granger, Alastor Moody, and Remus Lupin, among others. Five Death Eaters accompanied him, three of them blond. Ron desperately wanted to strangle the youngest of them, but held back. It would do no good. What was worse, the Death Eaters would apparate away right before the crash.
The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix continued to their gates and boarded their planes. The next time they met would be in the afterlife.
Part Three: September 11, 2001; 3:00 p.m.; Ardèche, France
"We have just received word that there has been an attack." Adrienne looked up from her light packing and glanced around her room, then looked at her clock-radio. It read 3:01 p.m. She returned her attention to the radio. "Four hijacked panes have now crashed in the United States. Two crashed into the Twin Towers, part of New York City's World Trade Center; one into the Pentagon, the headquarters of the American military; and one into a field in Pennsylvania, believed to have been headed for the White House in Washington, D.C." The message was then repeated in English on the off chance that there were American tourists in the area.
Adrienne muttered, "Mèrde," and then shouted, "Maman! Turn on the news! The wizarding news!"
"Pourquoi?" came the reply.
"There's been an attack on the American Ministry of Magic, and another on the Headquarters for International Magical Cooperation!" She hurried downstairs, to where her mother had already turned on the radio.
"The plane that crashed in Pennsylvania is believed to have been heading for the Salem School of Witchcraft in Oregon, but was stopped by the muggle passengers..."
"Well," commented Adrienne, "I knew that the Order of the Phoenix was to be executed today, but I didn't think He would use that to attack America." Maman nodded. "How are they doing in Lyons? Will I be able to make a difference there? I go up there today, remember?"
"We're winning, but it's not over yet. Strasbourg and Toulouse are almost over. It's rumored that You-Know-Who is sending over more forces from Britain."
"That's good, or slightly good," said Adrienne. "I'm leaving now. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Wish me luck!" she added.
Part 4: September 11, 2001; 12:00 p.m.; Lyons, France
Adrienne arrived in Lyons and reported to the general, Olympe Maxime. The woman was huger than Adrienne remembered. You stay away from Beauxbatons for four months… she thought, and then asked, "So what am I supposed to do?"
Madame Maxime replied, "The battle is almost finished, but we are still fighting. Just follow your ears. This should not last another week. We have already won in Paris and Toulouse. This should be the last battle. You-Know-Who's forces will soon be on the run!" Adrienne almost expected Madame Maxime to punch the air, but knew that she didn't do things like that.
Madame Maxime was definitely right. Two days later, the battle ended. In a speech right before the 'soldiers' returned home, she said, "You-Know-Who will certainly try again, but he now knows not to fool with France!" A cheer arose at this. "But remember," she admonished, "He will most certainly come again, with more wizards on his side, and these will be more skilled. Don't forget that you might be needed again. But if we are called to fight, we will win again! Right?" Another cheer arose. "Now, go home! Savor our victory!" At her signal, witches and wizards began to apparate home.
Adrienne wondered about the American attacks, and then put it out of her mind. They had won, and that was what was important.