Hello all! I really hope you enjoy this little story I've written. The idea came to me whilst watching Prisoner of Azkaban, and I think that it will turn out to be quite a long story (opposed to other stories i've written [not for fanfiction]). Anyways, please tell me what you think in the reviews!

~Samacajama

Disclamer: I do not own anything except for my character and the plot. It belongs to the brillant mind of Mrs. Rowling.

Prologue:

The yell came from somwhere in the common room at half past eleven, jolting the Gryffindor house out of their dreary studying stupor, or out of their dreams.

"Get up! Everyone!" A crisp commanding voice resounded up through the house.

Various murmured confusions disrupted the silent room.

"Now! Everyone needs to get up now! Prefects, make sure everyone is in the Great hall within five minutes!" McGonagall's voice echoed again. "Leave your things! We evacuate within the hour!"

The panicking children were ushered into the great hall, pouring into the entrance hall from what seemed all directions. Some of the first years were crying. Some of the older students looked as if they knew what was happening and had replaced fear with a quiet determination. Most of the students, however, were wondering what the hell was going on, and why they were being ushered into the Great hall.

Then they heard the voice, and suddenly everything became a whole lot clearer.

They were to fight.

Chapter one:

Astronomy tower

There weren't a whole lot of students left in the great hall after they were escorted out through the Room of Requirement, but about half of the overage wizards from Ravenclaw stayed, three quarters from Huffelpuff stayed, and from Gryffindor, just about everyone over fourth year stayed. It took a frustrated McGonagall nearly ten minutes to usher the underage children out.

Valentine Armoire sat there, across from Charlie Weasley and next to the twins, Fred and George, and touched her necklace. Actually, it was a time turner that her dad had given her before he and her mum were murdered by the Lestranges. It was one of the new ones that her father had invented after Harry and company dueled the Death Eaters in the Ministry a few years back. Although, it was just a prototype; no one was sure how well it worked, so it hung as a pendant around her neck.

Professor McGonagall split the remaining people up into groups, and Val ended up in Charlie's group, the one that would cover the astronomy tower.

On the way up, Charlie told the seven of us what to expect.

"I have a feeling that once Voldemort gives them the okay, the Death Eaters are going to try to get inside the castle by whatever means necessary. This means doors, windows and, more specifically, through the roof accesses. So, whatever you do, if someone gets inside, chase them down. Remember, we duel to kill."

Several of the Ravenclaws that had been assigned to this group swallowed. Val, however, didn't even blink. She had known that she was going to be dueling to the death ever since she had known that they were going to have to defend the castle. Even if they weren't, Val would have dueled to kill with Dolohov, if no one else.

Charlie's eyes met Val's, and then darted away again. Val caught a glimpse of something in there. Worry, perhaps, or maybe fear. She sympathized with him. If it weren't for the massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through her system, she'd have been so terrified she wouldn't have made it out of the Great Hall.

They didn't have to wait for more than ten minutes before one of the Ravenclaws- Melanie or something; Val thought her name was- screamed.

"Here they come!" Charlie yelled out, anxiety and anticipation coloring his voice.

Soon, the rooftop was aglow with spells being shot from every which-way. The Death Eaters outnumbered them, nearly three to one. Val caught a glimpse of two Death Eaters going through the door into the castle.

"Charlie!" I screamed across the rooftop. "Charlie! Dolohov and Lestrange got through! I'm going after them!"

"NO, VAL!" He yelled back, taking his eyes off of the people he was dueling. "I'll do it!"

She ignored him, running down the stairs anyway. Dolohov was hers.

Halfway down the stairs, she caught up with Lestrange, disarming him before he could double-take. Then just as he turned to lunge at her (for apparently, he wanted to take her on Muggle-style), she stunned him. Just for good measure, because Valentine was nothing if not thorough, she conjured silver ropes and tied him up.

Now for Dolohov, thought Val. I've gotta bone to pick with him… She added in her best southern American cowboy accent. Val really needed to stop watching muggle television.

She couldn't see him until they were down the stairs, but she could hear him. His footsteps seemed to mock Val, each one seeming to scream at Val that he was alive and her family was dead. Each one infuriated her more than the last. She, Valentine Armoire, was personally going to make sure she was the one to hear his last one.

"DOLOHOV!" she shouted once they hit the hallway leading into a main hallway that was sure to be filled with children evacuating. She couldn't let him get to that hall.

He turned around for a split second, shock crossing his face. Clearly, he thought Val was Lestrange. Then he stopped, turned around and recognition flitted through his eyes.

"Ah, so the littlest Armoire finally caught up, did she now?" He taunted.

"Prepare to die, mother fucker."

They started to duel so fast and violently, their wants were little more than blurs emitting various hexes, countercharms and anything else that came to mind. That is, of course, until the wall came crashing in.

A giant hand had been shoved through the wall, causing the rubble to fly everywhere, knocking Val and Lestrange off their feet. A particularly hard piece hit Val in the chest, knocking the breath from her. Another piece of wall flew at her as she lay on the ground, not able to move while she was trying to catch her breath. She stared in wide-eyed horror as she was assaulted by rubble before her vision went black, and she slipped into peaceful unconsciousness.