Despite Anticipation

"No-no-no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"

And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

The world has ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms?

But the world hadn't ended right then and there, and nobody had put down their wands, there were no victory celebrations, only more deaths. Harry closed his eyes briefly inhaling deeply: He didn't understand Severus Snape, but he had the feeling that there was more to that man than he would ever understand. How many more people could he take on his conscience? The way back to the main building seemed longer than usual. If he were being completely honest with himself, he would admit that he feared what he would see once they reached their final destination. He walked next to Hermione and Ron and concentrated on the simple things. The flask that Snape had entrusted to him seemed to burn itself into his skin as they entered the gate.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione whispered.

Slowly they walked towards the Great Hall, almost as if Hermione's words had led them there, to the only possible place where they could find answers. The Hall was swirling, people running left and right, yelling, the wounded rounded up in a corner. Harry let his eyes wander over those who had been hurt, desperately looking for someone he knew, and yet afraid of what he was going to find.

His eyes caught a glimpse of red, and he saw it, before Ron and Hermione had even noticed, and the world went into slow motion. Suddenly Ron was running towards his family, Hermione on his heels, and her eyes were calling him on, and yet he could not move, or breathe.

In the middle of the hall, neatly arranged in a row, lay the dead. Harry could not see Fred's body because his family surrounded him, but beside him he could clearly see a head of red hair, and the kind, smiling face of Mr. Weasley, looking so peaceful he could have been sleeping, except he would never wake again.

Mrs. Weasley was lying halfway across what could only be Fred's chest, and yet her hand was gripping that of Mr. Weasley, who could not offer any comfort, who would never be able to offer her comfort again. Beside her, kneeling was Remus Lupin, his hair dark with blood, his face covered with gashes, a gaping wound on his side.

George was kneeling close to Fred's head, and Ron, who'd just reached his family, was staring into his father's ashen face with wide eyes, Hermione's arms around him.

Bill and Fleur were holding onto each other tightly. Tears were streaming down Bill's face and Harry couldn't think of a time where the raucous Weasley clan had looked more lost. He couldn't see Ginny's face, because she'd burrowed it into Percy's chest, who rocked her silently, whispered in her ear, tried to soothe her when there was no reassurance to offer. Harry could see him swallow; his voice seemed to have abandoned him in the middle of a sentence.

A door opened, and Harry saw Remus jerk his head towards the movement as if he were waiting for someone to materialize, and it was then that Harry realized that Tonks wasn't in the Great Hall. He felt unable to join them. He wanted nothing more than to take the hurt away from these people, these people who were like his family, but he couldn't, not when so much as uncertain. He shook his head as his feet carried him backwards, and suddenly he was sprinting, but not towards his friends, but away from them, upstairs, further and deeper into Hogwarts castle. He was ready for the final lesson Severus Snape had wanted him to learn.

He felt a pair of eyes follow him out of the door, but he knew Remus wouldn't follow, not hurt like he was, not when Mrs. Weasley needed comfort. Ron wouldn't come either, and Hermione …Ron needed her more, and he understood. This was something he had to do alone.

Looking into the Pensive, he finally understood what his journey had been about. He felt heaviness settle in his chest, as he comprehended what he had to do. Finally he'd be able to finish his path, to end the senseless killing of innocent people. He would do what he had to do, because he was the missing piece in the puzzle. He couldn't bring back those who died, but maybe he could help the world become a better place.

Willingly, he stepped into the Forest and reached out, desperate for the comfort the spirits walking beside him provided. He could see his mother smiling, and his father looked just like he must have looked at Hogwarts, young and happy. The most striking was Sirius, finally looking young and whole. The words spoken passed in a flash, and he was standing there, ready, and there was a green light …and he was dead.

And then he wasn't. He stayed still through it all, even as familiar voices rang in his ears, and a plan of action sprung into his mind, unbidden. Neville -- and Harry wouldn't even consider what Neville had been through, couldn't imagine feeling prouder than he'd felt looking at Neville when he'd come out of the portrait of Arianna Dumbledore -- gave him the opportunity this time, and he suddenly he was invisible and he knew exactly what he had to do.

He was moving forward in the hall, steadily in the direction of Lord Voldemort. He watched as Ron and Neville brought down Fenrir Greyback, he continued to observe while Ron was pushed aside as Greyback shot a curse in his direction. He watched Percy gain the upper hand over Thicknesse, injured, but managing. Unexpected feelings were blossoming in him. They believed him dead, and still they fought on, no matter the cost.

A glimpse of red hair almost made his heart stop. Bellatrix was fighting Ginny, Hermione and Luna, and a killing curse had missed Ginny by less than an inch. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, the invisibility cloak was choking him. All his muscles tightened, and without thinking he was changing direction, ready to attack Bellatrix if it meant protecting Ginny. But someone else had beaten him to his goal.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Harry had never seen Mrs. Weasley in such a state. In all the times she'd thrown a maternal fit, she'd never been like that. She looked slightly mad, but determined. It seemed like nobody was able to look away. Fights were temporarily stopped and the hall was full of angry, violence-charged energy. Only two fights seemed to continue: Voldemort and his three opponents and Molly Weasley against Bellatrix. Molly ordered everybody to stand back, and it was frightening and disturbing how people obeyed. Didn't anybody see the haunted expression in Mrs. Weasley's eyes? He couldn't understand, and yet he couldn't move either…stood completely still… mesmerized…

Curses flew, angry lights flashing, Harry could hear gasps and shouts. From the corner of his eyes he saw Ginny, one hand clamped over her mouth, the other clutching her wand so tightly Harry wondered briefly if it would snap in two.

"Now that Arthur is gone the same way Freddie went ...it's so nice that you're going to follow them. But, Molly dear, do tell: What will your other brats do? Freddie, Arthur, you… I wonder who I'll will kill next? Perhaps George…or your precious G-"

"You- will- never- kill-"Molly started to scream, but before she had finished it, Bella had raised her wand, and sent a curse in her direction. Molly dodged it, her eyes even wilder, her demeanor furious. Harry raised his wand to perform a protection spell, but Bella shot another curse first.

Green light flashed, hitting Molly in the chest. There was a horrible scream. At first Harry couldn't tell whom it was coming from, but soon he realized it was Ginny, Ginny who sunk to her knees, her mother's head cradled in her lap, fingers stroking through her hair. Ginny, who'd left herself wide open to danger, and didn't even seem to notice.

Bellatrix raised her wand again, but she never managed a spell. There was another flash of light, and suddenly Neville's Gran was stepping forward, looking furious.

"Bitch, is far too nice a word for your kind! You don't deserve mercy. You torture, and you kill, you destroy families. You-"

Bella laughed and laughed, a hollow cruel sound escaping her mouth. Mrs. Longbottom didn't hesitate; one second Bella was there, the next, she wasn't.

The scene shifted. Suddenly, Harry couldn't stand it any longer, the cloak was choking him, and he wasn't protecting anyone. The minutes had passed, and he'd been distracted from his true goal, but it was still within his reach. In order to achieve anything, however, he had to be visible. And with that in mind, he swept off the cloak in one swift motion, without even bothering to locate Voldemort.

The crowd let out startled shouts of surprise. Exclamations of "Harry's alive!" and "He lives!" reached his ears and then silence fell. The duels around him all stopped, until even Voldemort could sense the shift. It was mere seconds before Harry found himself face to face with him, and he knew what he had to do, knew what he had to say, and yet he could hear Ginny's sobs, above everything else, and with every word he spoke, waiting to put an end to this, once and for all, he knew that he'd forever be haunted with the ghosts of what could have been.

"Avada Kevadra!" rang loudly in the room, but Harry was ready for it.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted in the same instant, and there was a blast. Harry's eyes closed involuntarily, but he could feel the golden flames, and he opened his eyes and raised his hand at the same time, and when the wand was in his hand finally looked in front of him, to where Voldemort was falling backwards, arms splayed, and hitting the floor with a thud, remained there, as dead as all of those who lay in the middle of the Great Hall.

Lord Voldemort was gone, at last.

The sound was deafening. There was a sudden roar, and people started screaming, and cheering. Harry felt himself enveloped by people, and he wanted to get out, go to Ginny, talk to Ron, whose eyes were haunted even as he half-saluted Harry, but Harry remained rooted to the spot. For once, he understood. This wasn't all about him. So he let himself be congratulated, even as he slowly made his way to where the remaining Weasleys stood, all crouched between the figures of their parents, who now lay together next to their son, together in death, as they'd been in life.

They were surrounded by their loved ones, those whose lives were torn from them far too early, those who would be missed forever. It didn't really matter who stood next to whom, they were all holding onto each other knowing that they had to go on. Harry hesitated, suddenly not sure if he belonged. Two more steps, one, and then Ron's eyes caught his, and he felt strong arms envelop him, he felt Ginny's body pressing against him. He found himself in the middle, felt tears rolling down his cheek, and he didn't care. United they were. He turned a bit and pressed into Ginny's small form, felt her body shaking under her suppressed sobs, and looked up into Tonks' puffy eyes. She was alive. Remus was standing next to her, and somewhere close by were Luna and Neville.

Somewhere in the midst of his overwhelming grief there was an intruder. It was a feeling of gratefulness for all those who had survived.

Carefully he extricated himself, slipping away from the group. With a heavy heart he made his way out of the Great Hall. He felt Remus's presence behind him, caught a glimpse of Neville, also following him. He thought about Ron, with his dead parents, and Hermione, who was surely there comforting him, and walked a bit faster, thinking already about coming back. At the entry of the Great Hall he turned back, motioned for them to stay. Hermione and Ron had been with him the whole journey; they were the ones that had the right to be with him. And, on his mind, they were. He'd learned that he didn't have to do things on his own.

But right now, for a million reasons, alone is what he had to be.

To be continued …

A/N: starbuckx: So, here we go again. Back into the world of fanfiction. This is a combined effort of sorts. We wrote the prologue together, but after this our stories branch out …let's just say I'll write the lighter side, and Carrie is going for dreary.

Carrie: Well, somebody has to deal with the Weasleys now that they have to handle the deaths of their parents along with that of their brother. Which leads me to apologizing: Molly's death was necessary to insure the balance of death and life. I am still sorry that it had to be done

Both: We can't finish without saying thanks to our lovely and ever helpful Yoda/beta, Anne, who rules both of your worlds. It doesn't even need to be said that without her …well, you know how the saying goes.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.K Rowling. No infringement is intended, and we're not making any money out of this.