The moon was waning thin. It streamed in weakly through the arched window of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. A thin figure filled the arch, scratching softly.

Seamus twitched in his sleep.

"I said I don't want to ride the hippogriff," he murmured turning around.

The scratching grew louder, more persistent. Seamus opened an eye. The little figure, a ragged owl, met his eyes and screeched softly.

"You just hold on, now," Seamus replied, tossing off his covers and opening the windowpane.

The owl lifted his leg dutifully. Seamus untied the letter and scratched it affectionately under the chin. It crooned sweetly then flapped its full wings, taking off into the air in silence. Seamus unrolled the letter. His eyes widened. Grabbing his pillow, he chucked it at Neville.

Neville gasped, tangling himself in his sheets.

"What's going on?" Neville said.

"You got a letter, Longbottom," Seamus answered, tossing the letter onto his bed, "a little strange, if I might add. Since when do owls come to the tower?"

"Why'd you throw- is this a pillow?"

"I'm not a bloody postal worker. It's three in the morning."

"Thanks, Seamus," Neville responded, unrolling the parchment.

Neville,

The ministry has seen fit to take me in. Naturally, I declined. I'm sure that will be the last time Dawlish gets such notions regarding my acceptance to obey unfit law. I cannot tell you where I am now in case either of us are captured. Dear, try not to get yourself captured. I've told all of the women in my book club that you've become something of a freedom fighter and it would pain me greatly to have to inform them otherwise. Can't you see how embarrassing that would be for me?

Of course you can.

With love

Gran

Neville laid down the parchment and rubbed his temples. He sighed.

"Is it from your girlfriend?" Seamus asked, back in bed and turned away from him.

Neville grumbled, "You know I haven't got one."

"That's what you say."

Neville stood up, running his hands through his hair.

"I think I've just become an enemy of the state, Seamus."

"Would you like me to cross-stitch that? Or will you let me get some bleeding sleep?"

In the Room of Requirement, a secret passageway opened. Neville stood from his desk, running to the door. It was Ginny and Padma, with Michael slung between them, his head rolling.

"What's happened?" Neville asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"The Carrows," Ginny whispered, easing Michael into a blue hammock, "I think they burned him."

"He was left in front of the Ravenclaw tower. I was taking him down to the hospital wing," Padma responded.

"But I ran into her. Draco and the rest of those bastards are making the rounds down there. I didn't want them to see," Ginny replied.

"We have a little bit of medicine," Neville responded, running to a cabinet in the corner, throwing open the wooden panels, "Y-yes, actually. Look!"

A tray of vials were knocked to the ground, rolling in different directions. Neville slipped on one, tripping and banging his head against the cabinet.

"Neville! Are you alright?" Ginny shouted.

"Here it is!" Neville responded, seizing a vial, "knew we had some burn ointment!"

The sun rose and set. The hours passed. All the while, Neville wrote in a small journal he kept as he swung in his hammock in the Room of Requirement. Michael slept fitfully in the Ravenclaw corner, his bandaged hand jerking in his sleep. Quietly, the door opened. It was Lavender and Parvati. They were holding hands and smiling at one another.

"Is it alright if we-"

"We've got plenty of room, now," Neville said, pointing to two new hammocks that had bounced into existence.

"How many people are here now, Neville?" Parvati asked, raising an eyebrow, as she watched the snoring Michael Corner, "I mean, you know, how many people come here at night?"

Neville smiled crookedly, "It's a little like a sleepover, isn't it?"

Lavender put her hands on her hips, "Neville, is that what you think this war is?"

A small voice cleared its throat behind them. Startled, Lavender turned around. A portrait of a serene young girl with pale hair stared at them warmly.

"Ariana?" Neville asked, getting to his feet.

"Who is she?" Lavender asked, wide-eyed, she turned to Parvati and whispered, "do you know who she is?"

"Is Ginny here?" Ariana asked softly, cocking her head.

The secret passageway door opened once more. Ginny came through, tucking a strand behind her ear. She scrunched her brows.

"What's going on?"

The portrait swung aside. Ginny emerged from the hole. She took a cursory glance around the small living room of Aberforth until her eyes locked on Daniella. Without a thought, she ran and threw her arms around her.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, pulling away from her.

Behind Daniella was a small group of young men and women. Aberforth sat in his armchair, spectacles on and newspaper perched upon his lap. With an agitated grunt and snort, he flipped a page and crossed his legs.

"You know I've been in correspondence with Aberforth for a little while now, after your accident," Daniella whispered, "And I knew that this was the right thing to do. We rescued what we think are most of the prisoners from Malfoy Manor and now we're here to fight."

The people behind her nodded their heads. Ginny put a hand to her forehead.

"Well, shit, I wasn't expecting this. It's- this is fantastic, Dani!"

Daniella smiled sheepishly. Ginny looked behind her friend for a moment, her eyes lost. Daniella understood and bowed her head.

"I know you've had some problems with Yori but-"

"I just thought she would have come with you," Ginny said, her eyes looking down,"But I should have known. I don't think she'll want to show herself after what happened."

The group whispered and Ginny lifted her head, "Hey, what's that? What is it?"

Daniella bit her lip, "There's something I need to tell you about Yori."

Once everyone had disappeared with the Portkey and the alarm had been sounded, it was just Yori and Arran. Arran had stayed behind the fight off the Snatchers. Now, he stared hard at Scabior.

"So it's you again, innit?" Scabior asked, cocking his head and stepping forward.

Arran clenched his fists, the backs of his hands already shuddering into fur.

"Hang on," Scabior said to two Snatchers behind him who advanced forward, "just hang on, will you?"

"Arran, what are you doing?" Yori whispered, pointing her wand.

"You can change and get out of here, Yori."

"Don't start that bullshit with me, Arran."

"Wha's with all this whisperin', then?" Scabior shouted, stepping forward again.

"Oh, to hell with it," Yori snarled, stomping her foot down and slashing her wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" she yelled, smacking a Snatcher in the chest.

"You li'l cunt!" Scabior roared, raising his wand.

"Crucio!" Arran fired at Scabior, who blocked it casually.

The Snatchers ran at them. Yori sprang into her cat form and ducked under their legs. She shifted back like smoke and fired another killing curse, felling another.

"No' part of the Potter Brigade of Compassion, are yah?" Scabior shouted, sending curse after curse at Arran.

Yori rolled, a whizzing green light nearly brushing her ear. She came to a stop at the feet of a large Snatcher. She whispered a full body-binding curse and he tipped backward. Behind her, she heard a guttural roar. It was Arran, he had changed into his werewolf form.

She looked up at the stairs and saw more figures were running down. This fight was impossible. They were trapped. They were out-numbered.

"Confringo!" Yori shouted fiercely at the men on the stairs. The blast was brutal and punishing. They tripped and smashed into stone, bones smacking harshly.

There was an opening. This was their chance.

"Arran!" Yori yelled.

Arran looked up, his yellow eyes contracting. He shoved Scabior away forcefully and flew toward her. She melted back into her animagus form. They ran. Yori could hear shouting below. In a breathless moment, they emerged into light. But there was a strange sound behind them. Yori was losing momentum, she was stumbling, she was growing.

She rolled awkwardly onto a fine Persian rug. She was back to her human form. Someone had shot a spell at her. She looked up into the black eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"And just what is going on here?" Lucius snapped behind her, his face drawn and his eyes furious.

Scabior rushed to the top, breathless and disheveled.

"Master Malfoy, I caught these two releasing the prisoners," Scabior said, a hand on his heaving chest.

Lucius curled his lip, "So I see."

Yori turned to Arran. She eyed Lucius. Arran nodded once.

"Come out with it then, Scabior, how did this happen?" Lucius asked, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Why don't you ask her?" Bellatrix shrieked, kicking Yori onto her back.

In a flash, Arran pounced. There was shrieking like breaking glass. Bellatrix howled. Narcissa, who had come running from upstairs, gasped wildly. Arran had grabbed Lucius into his powerful hands where he stood motionless like a pale doll. Poised on Lucius' neck were Arran's razor fangs.

Bellatrix swung toward him. Every wand faced the boy.

"Don't you dare, you mongrel," Bellatrix hissed in a lethal whisper.

"Bellatrix, kill him- ack! Kill him!" Lucius said in a strangled cough, Arran's grip tightened around the man.

"You will let go of my husband!" Narcissa wailed.

Yori silently hit Scabior with a full body-bind curse. Grabbing him before he crashed onto the ground.

"Now, I'm sensing a lot of opposition here," Arran said with a smile, "But I don't think you quite see the benefits of a painful, socially ostracizing condition. There's a simple joy in grabbing, say, some noble inbred. Stop me, please, if you've heard this one. And just sinking your teeth right into him, like this-"

"You!" Bellatrix said, reeling back her wand hand.

Yori grabbed Bellatrix's hand from behind and twisted her over and onto the ground.

"Accio fucking huge lamp!" Yori screamed, pointing her wand at a large porcelain lamp and swinging it like a bat across Bellatrix's head. It smacked hard. In a flash, she jumped onto Arran's back. Arran raised his leg up and planted his foot on Lucius' back. He shoved him with a kick. They apparated, spinning tightly.

Ginny shuddered. Daniella had her arm wrapped around her tightly. It was late in the evening. The rest were asleep. It had been a long day of discussion and frustration.

"I know I try to seem strong for the others," Ginny whispered almost inaudibly, "But this whole thing is killing me."

"I close my eyes and I see them running away from us, just as the Portkey is leaving," Daniella answered.

They looked at each other. Their bodies were close in the black darkness. Their hands were clasped tight, Daniella had her other hand rubbing up and down Ginny's shoulder. In a quiet moment, Daniella kissed Ginny quietly on the neck. Ginny's breath hitched.

"I know how I can make you feel better," Daniella said in a hush.

They locked in a kiss in the inky blackness. Daniella had her fingers up Ginny's shirt and she was massaging Ginny's breast, cooing and whispering gentle words in Ginny's ear. Ginny kissed Daniella tenderly on the cheek. They were silent, like moths bumping into each other.

But it was needful. Ginny's blouse was off, but her lace bra remained. Daniella urged her to lie back and the hammock swung slightly. Ginny held her breath, which was now ragged. She couldn't let anyone hear.

Daniella lifted up Ginny's skirt. She bit her lip. In the darkness, she could not see Ginny's beautiful face, flushed and aroused. But she felt the heat of her. Her thighs were moist, her sex glowed with warmth. With a long finger, Daniella unrolled Ginny's panties down just enough to give her full hand entrance. Her cove was wet and relaxed. Daniella massaged her inner thigh with one hand. With the other, she led a delicate finger between her slit.

Ginny bucked slightly. This was difficult, this silent game. Rubbing her clit fondly with her thumb, Daniella made another pass with her finger. This time, she dipped a finger into her hole. Her juices dripped down her thighs. Bringing the finger up to her own mouth, Daniella licked it. Ginny always tasted wonderful. How she yearned to take her. She, too, needed a good fucking. But tonight was for Ginny.

Ginny gripped the hammock with both hands, her chest rising and falling. This was bliss. This was insanity. This was getting fingered by a beautiful woman you could not fuck into the ground lest anyone hear.

Daniella now had two fingers inside. She was pulsing, her two fingers beckoning. With her other hand, she pulled Ginny's clitoris taut then released it. She knew how good that made Ginny feel. It was tantalizing. Her fingers moving faster, Ginny closed her eyes and rocked her pelvis. She was biting her lip. There was a faint copper taste of blood. She never had to stifle herself before. Ginny wanted nothing more than to give Daniella a wailing siren moan. But now she had to concentrate. She shook and sweat.

Daniella took her other hand and gently teased Ginny's asshole now. Both her hands were at work. Ginny's cunt was becoming tighter, her sex was soaking the hammock.

Suddenly, Ginny reached out a hand, her nails digging into one of Daniella's. This was it. This was the signal. In a final moment of pure bliss, Ginny rocketed in a silent come.

"'Accio fucking huge lamp'?" Arran whooped, gripping Yori by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Oh, piss off," Yori said with a smile.

They had landed in a nearby park.

"You're brilliant! There should be some sort award for that!" Arran said with glee, kissing her on the cheek.

Yori smirked, wiping her cheek. All at once, she swayed slightly, stopping herself. She gulped.

"Arran?"

"Yeah? What's up?" Arran asked, turning around with a bright smile.

Yori fell to the ground, gripping her arm.

"Yori!" Arran cried, stooping down.

"It's my mark. It hurts like hell. Arran- Arran I think I'm being summoned," Yori cried, looking up at him through tears, "What do I do?"

"Oh, bloody hell," Arran whispered, his eyes wide.