Harry was in the room now. Sarah heard everything like she was under water, and similarly her limbs felt weightless. Ginny ushered her out, explaining it, but the speed of sound had changed. Ginny whipped out her wand, pointing it at a tall, rapid looking Death Eater. "Petrificus totalis!"

Sarah looked to see dark robed figured battling enchanted suits of armor.

Ginny pulled Sarah along, still dazed but now paying more attention. Percy Weasley fiercely fought a Death Eater near the ruins of a wall. Near the corpse of his brother. Another wave of guilt hit Sarah, this time containing jellyfish, tendrils wrapping around her, not in a feeling of warmth but this time with a burning feeling pearmeating her skin, ripping through her bone. The agony reacher her bone marrow this time.

"He's in the Shreiking Shack! He's in the Shreiking Shack!" Harry called out to Ron and Hermione. Consciousness ripping though her skull, she pulled herself from Ginny's grasp. No matter how Snape would feel about her decision of allegiance, it was something she had to do.

Keeping her eyes on Harry, she whispered spells at the black robes, hoping to have the advantage of not being heard in the uproar. Crooked wands flew away from their masters, into the rubble and madness surrounding them. Disarmed, they could do little to resist, falling in a desperate attempt to find their wands.

Sarah chased Harry outside, ignoring her lungs' desperate cries for more air. Ron was just behind Hermione, gripping his wand in one hand and her wrist in the other. It was still unusual to see him with someone other than Cassie, as unusual as it was to see the uptight friend finally letting people know she felt more than friendship.

"The Whomping Willow!" Harry called out.

Sarah tried not to attract their attention as she avoided the branches that came precariously close to decapitating her more than once. The tree stopped moving to allow the trio in, but resumed its violence the moment they passed through the hold.

She followed them into the tree, not letting them know she was there until they could not tell her to leave without making themselves known to the men in the tree. Seeing only the back of Lucius Malfoy, who was departing, they saw the Dark Lord himself, his snake in a magical cage that lay close by him. Snape stood at a fair distance away.

"Let me find Potter, my Lord, I can bring him to you," Snape bargained desperately. "Please."

"Well, Severus, I have a bit of a problem."

"My Lord?"

The wand looked like it was made of a series of honeycombs as he held it between his fingers. "Why doesn't it work for me?" he voice was soft, resembling that of the 11 year old boy in Dumbledore's memories.

"My Lord," Severus said nervously. "You've performed extraordinary magic with this wand."

"No, I've performed magic to the usual extent of my ability," Voldemort shook his head. "I am extraordinary," Sarah supressed a tiny giggle at his words, thinking of Lockhart. The situation was too severe for it to truly be funny. "It is no different from the wand I have from Ollivander."

Snape seemed to be looking for the right words to convince his master. Sarah's skin prickled, knowing that danger was coming.

"Are you aware of why I called you from battle?"

"No, my Lord, but I beg you to allow me to find Potter."

"Neither you nor Lucius understand him in the way that I do. Heroic Potter will come to us. His weakness is watching others fall before him. He knows that it is for him that it happens. He can't bear to see it. He will come to stop it."

"What if he is accidently killed, my Lord, by someone other than yourself?"

"My instructions were clear. Kill everyone fighting on his side, as many of his friends as possible, until he surrenders or is captured. But kill him under no circumstances. I wanted to speak of you, though, Severus. As much as you've been valuable to me, Severus," he sounded like an employer, telling him misuse of the company copier had been the final straw. "My concern is that when I meet the boy…"

"Surely there cannot be a question, my Lord?"

"There is, Severus. Why did both wands fail when directed at the boy?"

"I don't have the ability to answer that."

"Don't you?"

"I have no explanation."

"Severus, this is the Wand of Destiny. It was taken from the grave of its previous master," Voldemort explained. Snape's dark eyes were not moving from Nagini, his face such an unearthly shade that he looked like he wore his silver mask. "I've been wondering," he raised his hand to stop Snape from interrupting. "why this is. The legend explains how the wand acknowledges one as its master. Now, I have an answer. Perhaps you have guessed as well? You are no fool, Severus. So long as you have you life, I will never take Harry's. The Elder Wand cannot truly be mine because it recognizes you as its true master."

"My Lord—"

"There is no other way. I must master the wand. I have no choice if I am going to finally bring down Potter," Voldemort turned his face to Nagini, whispering to her in a tongue Sarah didn't understand. "I do regret things must go this way." It was as when dust fell away from his face, an unchangeable expression turning to horror. He let out a small yell before Nagini tore into his neck. Severus was on the floor now. "Truly, I do."

The Dark Lord left the shack, Nagini behind him.