Disclaimer: Jo finished writing Deathly Hallows in January. I still have quite a way to go for my HP ending (sigh!)
"Believe me," panted Harry, as Snape stared down impassively at the bewildered Order, who did not lower their wands. "He's not – he's not really with the Death Eaters – Dumbledore's picture explained it all to me –"
"Dumbledore?" said Tonks dubiously. The rest of the Order began to mutter amongst themselves; most still looked highly suspicious, and others, like Dedalus Diggle, terrified.
"There is very little time," said Snape coldly, proceeding swiftly down the stairs. There was a general cry of anger, and Moody let out an odd noise like a snarl, blocking Snape's path.
"Not so fast," he growled. "Whatever Dumbledore might have said, we don't trust you – and I don't know that I ever will," he added, his voice heavy with dislike.
Snape waved his hand. "The Dark Lord has ordered an attack on this house," he said curtly. "I have –"
Shouts of horror, rage, and disbelief rang through the hall, and Snape stopped, his eyes surveying them coldly.
"You lie, Severus," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice. "This house is protected by the Fidelius Charm. It is unassailable."
"The secret is out," Snape said, sounding impatient. "I could not have got in otherwise! Have you not wondered about Minerva?"
"Minerva would never betray us!" cried Mrs Weasley.
"I never said that," Snape said quietly.
"She disappeared," said Bill Weasley. "We've tried Tracing Charms, sent out search parties –"
Snape nodded curtly, his face expressionless. "Minerva was taken by the Dark Lord's followers," he said. "I – she –"
"What?" said Moody sharply.
Snape spoke, his voice heavy with half-suppressed emotion. "She is dead."
"No!" shrieked Hermione, and the crowded hallway erupted in shocked disbelief. That Snape was telling the truth not one of them doubted; there had been the faintest note of genuine regret in his voice. Hermione started crying silently on Ron's shoulder, her whole body shaking with sobs. He patted her on the back as though he hardly noticed what he was doing; his face was blank with shock.
"I am truly sorry," said Snape, walking down the rest of the stairs; this time, no one tried to stop him.
There was a strange ringing in Harry's ears as he stared at his ex-Potions teacher; he felt oddly light-headed, yet at the same time as though something very heavy was dragging through his insides. McGonagall – gone – like Dumbledore, like Sirius – it seemed impossible that she could not be there, she had always been there ... firm, solid, somehow so permanent ... he just could not take it in.
"I am sorry," repeated Snape, as Mrs Weasley sobbed into a handkerchief. "She died fighting, and took Macnair and Dolohov with her, too. But we must not waste time. The Dark Lord might attack at any moment; he is at present amassing his followers – he may suspect I have come to warn, since I did not answer his summons" – he rubbed his left forearm unconsciously, where Harry knew the Dark Mark was emblazoned on his skin – "and so I suggest that this house be evacuated immediately. The odds are against us, and the safety of certain people must be taken into consideration." His eyes lingered on Harry.
There was a moment of odd, ringing silence, then Moody roared, "I won't run from the cowards who killed one of the greatest witches I have ever known! Get Potter and the other kids out of here, but we shall fight!"
Snape looked at him coldly. "That is very unwise; the Dark Lord's followers are many –" he began, but Ron, who was glaring at Moody, interrupted him.
"No!" he said furiously. "If you're staying, we are too!"
"And I'm not leaving!" shouted Harry, feeling deep, boiling anger rising up in him. The initial shock of Snape's news having sunk in, he was filled with lashing, white-hot rage. So they murdered her, he thought furiously. Those cowards! She probably taught most of them at Hogwarts, they just don't care who they kill any more...
"Oh, yes, you are," said Mrs Weasley, grabbing his arm. "You're what You-Know-Who wants. You're not going to be a sitting target –"
"I won't just be sitting –" said Harry angrily, but then a sudden thought occurred to him that made him go icy cold. The locket Horcrux – it was upstairs, in the desk in his room! What if Voldemort was after that, not him? If he found it, Harry would never get it back. He let out an odd yelp, and wrenched himself out of Mrs Weasley's restraining grasp.
"Harry!" she screeched, horrified. "Come back here! The Death Eaters – " But Harry stumbled up the stairs, pushing roughly past Snape, who watched him coldly, a slight sneer playing around his thin mouth. Praying that he would get to Hermione's room before the Death Eaters arrived, Harry leapt the last few steps three at a time, wincing as pangs of pain shot through his injured leg. Mrs Weasley shot a Trip Jinx at him in a desperate attempt to stop him, but missed.
Harry staggered into his room, wrenched open the drawer of the little writing-desk, and fumbled clumsily with his wand. Muttering a hasty spell, Harry pointed his wand at the seemingly empty drawer; the Concealment Charm fell apart and the locket shimmered into sight. Harry grabbed it and stuffed it inside his robes just as he heard a series of cracks echo outside the corridor, and a terrible creaking of floorboards as though many people had just Apparated into the house.
Harry froze, one hand still inside his robes.
"Oh, my," said Phineas Nigellus snidely from his picture frame on the wall. "So now this house is host to the Dark Lord's followers; I hope you are not going to try to be heroic again."
Hedwig was hooting, trying to get Harry's attention, but he barely heard her. The house seemed to shudder as the Death Eaters and the Order clashed; Harry could hear muffled shouts and screams. He stumbled to the door with his mouth set in a grim line, ignoring Phineas Nigellus; he was determined to get at least three Death Eaters back in Azkaban for what they had done to McGonagall. Incensed, he limped as fast as he could out into the corridor where a fully-fledged battle was raging.
"Harry!"
Mr Weasley, already sporting a magnificent bruise on one cheek and with his hair slightly singed, had apparently fought his way up the stairs to find him. He grabbed Harry's arm and wrenched him out of sight of the Death Eaters, who had not yet noticed Harry's emergence from his bedroom.
"Mr Weasley! Let me fight!" shouted Harry, struggling against the tight grip he found himself in.
"Harry, just get out of here!" Mr Weasley shouted in his ear, pushing him back into his bedroom. "Apparate somewhere, anywhere – before you get – just go!"
"No!" shouted Harry furiously, ducking under Mr Weasley's arm and throwing himself back into the fray. He sent an Impediment Curse at a random black-cloaked figure, and a Stunner at another, then was forced to lie flat against the wall to avoid several curses that came flying in his direction, though he wasn't sure that any had actually been aimed at him – yet.
Dust was falling all around them as the old house shook, and the portraits on the walls were all shouting and ducking out of the way of the curses that were flying in every direction. Mrs Black's portrait set up the most unearthly wail, but, uncharacteristically, her voice was screeching in triumph.
"Yes, yes! Kill them, kill all the filthy bloodtraitors –"
Crash! The magnificent chandelier came tumbling down, smashed by a misaimed hex, pinning both a Death Eater and Tonks underneath. Harry saw Tonks struggling desperately to free herself...
"Kill the half-breed scum who have befouled the house of my fathers –"
Harry couldn't see Tonks any more; a huge blond-haired Death Eater had loomed up in front of him, wand pointed directly at Harry's face.
"Protego!" Harry's Shield Charm was powerful, but it cracked under the strength of the curse the blond-haired Death Eater had shot at him; the spell did not touch him but broke into several jets of electric-blue light and bounced in all directions. Feeling oddly winded, Harry staggered, and the blond-haired Death Eater leered, raising his wand again for a second attempt.
"Kill them, oh, restore my ancestral home to the glorious pride of its former days –"
As Harry tried, awkwardly, to dodge, the Death Eater keeled over, landing flat on his face. The floorboards shook; through the swirling dust, Harry saw Lupin standing behind the fallen Death Eater, wand raised.
Lupin gripped Harry's arm and pulled him upright; wiping his sweaty hair out of his forehead, Harry gripped his wand firmly again.
"Thanks," he gasped.
"Harry, you should get out of –" Lupin broke off, blocking several hexes coming in his direction. Soon Harry was alone again, as they got separated in the confusion. He could see more Death Eaters thundering in and out of empty rooms, blasting the furniture with their wands; they were definitely searching for something. Harry felt the heavy lump of the golden locket bump against his chest, and felt himself go cold with worry.
"Kill, them, kill them, kill them!"Mrs Black's awful shrill voice screeched even louder, rising to a frenzy.
Tonks had freed herself from under the chandelier; Harry glimpsed her and Mrs Weasley battling a Death Eater together. Ron and Hermione were still on their feet, and Harry thought he glimpsed Ginny fighting, but was that Kingsley, lying at the foot of the stairs, and Charlie Weasley sprawled by the broken chandelier? Were they just Stunned? Harry was too busy ducking and dodging to see properly what was going on – where was Voldemort? He wasn't in Grimmauld Place; that was evident at a glance. Snape was opening battling with the Death Eaters; he'd evidently thrown his pretence to the winds.
"Kill them, kill them!"
"Serpentsortia!" Harry let out a shout as a snake glided across the floor, straight for him; the wizard who had conjured it gave a nasty grin, revealing several broken teeth. Harry kicked the snake unceremoniously in its face with his unbandaged foot; it recoiled, and writhed on the floor, lashing its coils in pain. A Death Eater yelled as he stepped on it; it reared its bruised head, and bit him. Harry threw a hex at the wizard who had conjured the snake, but missed; he only narrowly avoided getting hit by the Death Eater's retaliatory curse by ducking behind a black-robed, dark-haired witch engaged in fighting Mad-Eye Moody. Before Harry had collected his wits, another Death Eater fell right behind him. Harry stumbled into the wall, which, to his horror, he saw was splattered with what looked like blood. He hoped fervently that it was Death-Eater blood.
"Kill them, kill all the filthy scum!"
The banisters had been struck by some curse and the blackened wood splintered; Mrs Black's portrait got hit by a Stunner and fell mercifully silent; Bill Weasley, fighting halfway up the stairs, slipped and crashed inelegantly backwards down the lower steps – it was utter chaos.
Harry threw up another Shield Charm and readied himself to shoot a curse at a particularly rough-looking Death Eater with long, straggly brown hair who was causing Lupin some trouble. Before he could act, however, a stray jet of bright white light slammed into the ceiling, and BANG! With a noise like a gunshot, a large, ugly crack splintered through the ceiling, and plaster rained down upon the fighters below. Several people yelled, and Harry's stomach lurched; the house was groaning and creaking, its walls shuddering in earnest now. Fire – from a curse? – had somehow taken hold of the splintered banisters, and the flames leapt eagerly upward, consuming the dry, ancient wood with terrible swiftness. People were shouting, and the floor shook so badly that Harry fell to the floor, as many around him seemed to be doing. He struggled to stand, but the floor lurched again, and he was thrown flat on his back.
The portraits were shouting in horrified distress, running into different pictures and jostling each other in their haste to escape the hungry flames; Harry finally staggered to his feet just as the house gave an unearthly groan. The floorboards buckled, but Harry had already fairly thrown himself downstairs. Mrs Weasley, her eyes wild and plaster in her hair, screamed at him.
"Get out, Harry, get out, go – the house, it's breaking up!" All around him, the Death Eaters were Disapparating with terrified glances at the crack in the ceiling, which was yawning ever wider, and the roaring flames. In a remarkably short amount of time, the Death Eaters had all gone, except those lying unconscious on the floor.
"Everyone get to the Burrow!" Mrs Weasley yelled. "Quickly! Take everyone who can't Apparate themselves!" She seized the unconscious Charlie's arm, heaved him upright, and with a huge effort, turned and Disapparated with him.
As a huge chunk of plaster hit Harry squarely on the head, and the heat from the flames began to feel as though it was blistering his skin, he stumbled, shaken, to the nearest body on the floor. It was Tonks; she was still breathing, but her face was pale and her eyes closed. Harry pulled her to her feet, glanced round and saw people Disapparating all around him. Mr Weasley, panting under the weight of Kingsley Shacklebolt's limp body, saw Harry and nodded hastily to tell him to get a move on. Harry quickly focused his mind on the Burrow, held Tonks tightly, and turned. As he Disapparated and the wreckage of the hallway faded into darkness, Harry heard, as though from a very great distance, the sound of crashing and crumbling. The walls of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place were rapidly caving in.
I didn't want to kill off McGonagall! Sorry about that!!!
Anyway – thanks go to Mamacita-san for betaing this, and to my anonymous reviewer peacegirl because I couldn't reply directly!
And, of course – please review!