Chapter Eleven
From Hogwarts With Love
As the doorway before them was blown into rubble and Death Eaters began pouring through, Ron expected Hermione to release her urgent grip on his hand, but she didn't. Instead, she dragged him into the center of the exploding fray beside her, found a defensible alcove, and jerked them both into it, and there she commenced laying about with spells with reckless abandon.
"Rule number one in magical battle," she noted breathlessly, flattening a six-foot-tall Death Eater with a full-body bind. "Don't turn your back on your enemy."
"Sounds about right," Ron replied, whipping off one of the new spells Lupin had taught them. A Death Eater tumbled to the floor, his hood slipping back to reveal a shock of dark hair, his arms around his middle as the worst stomach cramps of his misguided life assailed him. Ron considered. "That's a good one," he decided.
"How long do they - expelliarmus - last?" Even as a black wand zipped into her hand, she twisted around Ron to deck out a Death Eater who'd been creeping up on his right.
"Until—" Ron snagged another of his own. "—I do the countercurse."
"Excellent," Hermione replied, in the tone of someone inquiring about the weather of her future vacation site. Except that someone planning a vacation likely wouldn't knock a hirsute man with crooked yellow teeth bared right off of his feet with a well-aimed jinx in the middle of the process.
Meanwhile, Harry had dived right into the center of the fray, firing spells left and right.
"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"
"Stupid git," Ron muttered, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. "Why wouldn't he learn new ones with us?"
Hermione shrugged. "Maybe he thought it was below his dignity. Expecto patronum!"
The small group of dementors that had been gliding towards them scattered, driven back by the memory of the previous day's trip to Hogsmeade.
"Well," Ron replied, trying to catch his breath as he cursed another Death Eater, "his loss, I guess."
"Stupefy! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!"
But Harry's aim was bad, and it was Hermione's wand that the spell jerked out of her hand. However, she simply lifted the black wand she had taken from the Death Eater and pointed it at hers.
"Accio!"
Her wand zoomed back into her hand.
"Knew extra wands would be useful!" she sang.
Ron laughed. Then he grabbed her arm and threw them both to the floor as an Unforgivable sailed over their heads and dissipated into the wall behind them.
Why am I suddenly so mediocre? Harry demanded of himself, cold sweat beading at his hairline as he made another terribly undignified dodge. It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that everyone else has been practicing while I've been angsting needlessly and making out with my girlfriend… could it? He frowned, wondering if - but then a voice inside his head demanded, WELL, DIDN'T I HAVE A REASON TO ANGST? ISN'T MY LIFE MISERABLE BEYOND ALL COMPREHENSION? ISN'T THE ENTIRE WORLD SET AGAINST ME? THEY ALL HATE ME! WELL, I HATE THEM - HATE THEM, HATE THEM, HATE THEM! KILL… KIIIILLLLLLLL…
Harry blinked and shook his head. Something very strange was going on.
§
The battle churned with more currents and sub-currents than an ocean in the midst of a tsunami. One of them carried Lupin away from Tonks. After ducking a curse that, if memory served, would have ripped his limbs from his body and scattered them bleeding across the room, he glanced back over his shoulder frantically, seeking her dark and therein less conspicuous hair, but the sea of moving bodies yielded no such singular prize.
If there is a supernatural deity up there, he prayed desperately, keep her safe. Please keep her safe.
"Diffindo," he said calmly, pointing his wand at an approaching Death Eater's shoelaces. The laces obediently split, and the woman did a neat faceplant on the floor. Her nose started bleeding. "Petrificus Totalus," he added, stepping over her and moving forward again, keeping an eye out for new enemies and for his wife at once.
§
Meanwhile, Severus Snape was having a difficult time trying to fight on one side while appearing to fight on the other and being attacked by some of the people he was trying to help. He cursed a Weasley sibling, then muttered the countercurse under his breath as the crowd of Death Eaters he had been with swept around a corner. Just before they disappeared, he sent a stunning spell bouncing off a wall to flash into their midst from the opposite direction, then ducked a spell that the confused and angry Weasley had aimed at him before dodging into another corridor.
Why, he demanded of himself, am I doing this? Why didn't I just move to Cancun before this whole fiasco started?
The answer escaped him, and he was momentarily distracted by the need to Stun a Death Eater that had appeared and then wipe his memory of the incident. While he was at it, he wiped the man's memory of his whole dark past. Who knew? Perhaps he would wake up a new person.
He turned in time to see Bill Weasley careening down the corridor towards him, three Death Eaters on his tail. Biting back a few detailed cusses, he snatched Bill's arm and yanked him into a divergent hallway.
"Wh—" Bill began indignantly, eyes narrowing.
Before he could finish the word, Severus drew a small flask of forest green liquid and pitched it into the corridor in the direction of the approaching Death Eaters. Glass smashed, and then there was a tremendous explosion, and if Severus had not had the presence of mind to slam himself and Bill back into the wall, the jet of green flame that blasted into their portion of the hallway would likely have compromised the unfortunate Bill's appearance even more.
Bill's scarred face was silent and blank for a moment. Then it lit up in a wide grin that looked very much like his brother Ron's. "WICKED!" he shouted.
"Inspired by Molotov Cocktails," Severus explained tersely.
"No idea what a Motlov cocktail is!" Bill went on, just as enthusiastically. "Don't even care! That was ruddy BRILLIANT!"
Severus Snape allowed himself a very small, very thin smile. "Thank you. Now get out of here."
Without waiting for an answer, he darted around the corner, skirting the charred remains of the Death Eaters and wincing offhandedly at the soot all over the mangled walls. Then he was back in the middle of it.
I bet the Bahamas are very nice this time of year, he thought absently as he abbreviated a Death Eater at the wrists with another of his personal inventions.
§
Meanwhile, in an upper hallway, Professor McGonagall stood at the top of a staircase, blasting spells down at the Death Eaters attempting to climb it and breathing heavily. She was really getting too old for this.
A spell narrowly missed her, and she stumbled back, almost losing her balance. A firm hand caught her elbow and helped her to her feet again.
"You all right, Minerva?" asked Kingsley's deep voice.
"Yes, thank you," she replied a little breathlessly.
"You don't sound so good," he commented worriedly, sending a few curses flying down the stairs while trying to keep an eye on her at the same time. "Why don't you sit down a moment? I can hold them."
"It's quite all right," she replied, new energy in her eyes. "I think I can make it for a while longer."
He smiled. "You're a brave lady. Duck!"
A spell sailed over their heads, smashing a chandelier that burst into flames as it shattered, and the two abandoned their discussion in favor of turning their full attention on the fight.
§
The evening wore on - an hour had passed, maybe two, and the fighters on both sides were tiring. The battle had moved from a full-out clash to guerilla warfare, individuals and small groups hiding in doorways and behind statues to ambush others going by, small fights sometimes breaking out and usually ending as quickly as they had started. The one place where fighting continued strong and fierce was the great hall, and it was in that direction that Remus Lupin was running, hoping against hope to be reunited with his wife. He dashed into the room, knocking a Death Eater aside with a spell, and scanned it desperately, searching with his eyes. She had to be here somewhere. Had to be.
There was a low chuckle behind him.
He spun to discover the fang-toothed leer of Fenrir Greyback.
A growl rumbled deep in his chest. "You." This was the man who had changed him. This was the man who had forced him to hide, to draw away, to seek shelter from the watchful eyes of the world. This was the man who had doomed him. This was the man who had turned him into a freak and a monster. This was the man who might have done the same thing to his son. "YOU."
More of Greyback's vicious teeth showed in a terrifying mockery of a grin. "Me, Remus," he rejoined, voice low and rumbling, sounding like thunder, like an avalanche. Like a wolf. "Me, me, me. But you're not looking for me. You're looking for someone else."
Remus's wand was in his hand, his arm was raised, the words Avada Kedavra were on his lips for the first time in his life, and he meant them - meant them, meant them, MEANT THEM—
Greyback raised his own hairy hand, and in a dirty palm half again the size of Lupin's, there was a necklace, either end of the chain dangling. On that chain glinted a charm of a small silver wolf and a gold wedding ring, nestled almost comfortably in a grimy crease in Greyback's skin.
"I'm afraid," he said through a wide, self-satisfied grin, "that your bitch is dead." The corners of his lips curled higher. "Pushed her over a parapet myself, thanks."
A thousand curses whipped through Lupin's mind like a gale-force wind. No, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO—
His hand was just as steady as his voice as he roared, "AVADA—"
A wispy cloud shifted, and moonlight streamed through the tall windows of the Great Hall. The scream rose into a tortured howl.
By the time the echoes had faded, there were two snarling wolves on the stone tiles, one sleek and silvery-gray, the other bigger, his dark fur tending to brown tainted with a venomous-looking yellow, a cruel glint in his animal's eyes.
Remus Lupin snarled.
Fur burst in the air like fireworks, fangs flashing in the flickering candlelight, canine limbs moving almost faster than human eyes could follow.
The gray wolf dove to bury his teeth in the other's throat, to rip it out, to taste the blood and hear the dying breath, but his opponent danced nimbly out of the way and came back strong, batting with a set of thick claws that raked the side of the Lupin's snout. The slashes burned as if inflamed. Lupin feinted back and scrambled onto one of the long wooden tables, and as the bigger wolf lumbered towards him, gathering speed, leapt off and bit down with all the force he could muster. Greyback's attempt at a dodge saved his vulnerable face, but Lupin's fangs sunk deep into his shoulder. The yellow wolf howled furiously and ducked his head, writhing, but the other wolf clung hard, and his teeth couldn't be dislodged. Feral instincts mixed vertiginously with human ones, and Greyback rammed sideways into one of the benches. Whimpering piteously, Lupin released his hold, tumbling beneath the table. A yelp tore loose from him as he tried to put weight on his front right paw. A voice inside him that sounded foreign and esoteric moaned something about fractures.
The other wolf snarled as he slipped over the fallen bench and under the edge of the table. New energy surged into the gray wolf. This would end when one of them died, and it wouldn't be him.
He turned tail and darted out under the table, ignoring the flaring pain in his foreleg, hearing the other wolf laboring along behind him, streaking under the benches and the tables one by one until he reached the stone wall he had known would come. Against it he sprang, pushing off from it hard, turning in the air to land again on a bench. As the yellow wolf swerved to avoid smashing headlong into the stone wall, Lupin leapt. This time his aim was true. A howl that rent ears throughout the length of the castle burst from the yellow wolf's throat, cut off abruptly as Remus Lupin jerked a sizable portion of it free.
Ivory fur drifted like snow. Blood pooled. Fenrir Greyback's body twitched three times and lay still. The wolf's form roiled until it became a hulking man with wide, staring, lifeless eyes.
The gray wolf was splattered in blood, matting his fur, staining his teeth. He bared them one last time at the fallen foe.
A very distant voice that brought to mind a large black dog whispered in awe, Jesus Christ.
The gray wolf ignored it and limped back to the glint of metal left on the stone floor. He nudged it with his nose, and all the rage drained from him in one enervating rush. Forlornly he curled up around the necklace on the floor, setting his head down next to it. The wolf's emotions were not very complicated, but they were complex enough for him to know that he had lost before he had even begun to win.
§
The Mark burned darker and more painfully than ever before. Cringing, Severus Snape forced himself to run faster - faster yet. He knew it was coming. He knew the moment was near. He knew his master had realized that the end was in sight.
It chafed vaguely against his dignity as he skidded to a stop on the dewy lawn - very vaguely, because it was there that the two sides were quite literally at odds.
The Death Eaters' ranks were visibly pocked and tattered, more rife with holes than the oldest hand-me-down that might have been given to one Ron Weasley. But the Order was missing some members as well. Severus took a cursory, quick census, the work of a fraction of a moment for a mind like his - and his heart contracted. Tonks and Lupin were both entirely absent at a time that neither would have missed for the world.
Harry Potter had the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and his wand in the other. He pointed the latter at the pale snake of a man standing tall before him, even now - even when he knew that a breath of wind could have pushed the matter either way.
"Exp—" he began.
"Avada Kedavra," the man who had once been Tom Riddle said calmly.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, crumpled to the ground, the sword still glinting dully, and became the Boy Who Died.
The last Horcrux, thought Severus Snape, feeling something what, under a microscope and exaggerated wildly, might have been a shred of remorse.
Neville Longbottom, the coward, the fool, the painfully innocent and innocuous little boy, stepped forward. His voice shook, but his hands didn't.
Severus had always noticed how steady his hands were even when the air was at its most relentlessly tense.
"Y-you bastard," Neville shouted.
Severus shoved the last Order member out of the way. "NEVILLE!" he roared.
What occurred next seemed to Severus to occur in slow-motion. All other witnesses relayed that if they had blinked, they would have missed it.
The boy turned.
His eyes found Snape's.
His eyebrows rose.
Snape threw the Colt .45 pistol.
The gun pinwheeled through the air like a comet coming to Earth.
And then Neville caught it squarely in his right hand, turned on one heel, and fired three bullets into Voldemort's forehead.
The Dark Lord slumped to the ground next to the shadow of a form that lay there already.
At that moment, that shadow of a form leapt up.
"What did I miss?" Harry Potter demanded cheerily.
Hermione gave a shaky laugh.
"Well, only Voldemort's downfall at the hands of a Muggle weapon and a moment that will be written into every history book published from now on." She glanced at the former Dark Lord suspiciously. "I assume he is dead?"
Voldemort's body answered her question by exploding into a thousand pieces and settling in a cloud of black dust, floating to the ground like soot cleared out of a chimney.
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Bit melodramatic, but I think he's dead, all right."
At their leader's explosion, the Death Eaters split ranks and began running. Some of them were Stunned and taken into custody; others reached the edge of the grounds and escaped. It didn't make a great deal of difference, as far as Snape was concerned. What did make a great deal of difference was the absence of two members of the Order of the Phoenix and their current whereabouts and conditions.
And then he spotted one, as cheers rang out from all around him and people began to embrace, laugh, and celebrate.
Off to the side, all by himself, Remus Lupin was curled up against a tree, and he was crying.
Authors' Note: Only one chapter left, and then the Epilogue. We will be posting the two - as separate chapters - in a few hours, at which point everything will be resolved and all mysteries will be explained.
